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emeraldbloodcrown · 5 months

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Once More

Chapter: Two - Rumors and Hesitations Pairing: Poly; Tattoo Artists!141 x Baker!Female Reader Summary: It's time to explore the town a little, leaving you with some insecurities after sampling one of the big coffee shops your grandmother seemed to hate. Content/Warning: Still none, just small towns being small towns Word Count: 4k

You couldn't find it in you to argue with Anna's reasoning and taking another look at the flyer, you both agreed to take the opportunity to get to know your neighbors.

"We should probably take a walk around town before that. That would probably earn us some points when we talk to the owners"

"Sounds like fun. Tomorrow then?"

You nodded, putting the flyer away and reaching for your dinner again when you remembered another thing on your to-do list. Making a small sound of frustration, which got Anna's attention and a questioning look from her, as you pulled your phone out of your pocket, along with the small note.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing bad. I got some help while I was shopping from another customer, promised I'd text them so I could thank them properly."

"Properly, huh." Her voice dipped teasingly, getting a seductive edge and she waggled her eyebrows at your words. Rolling your eyes, you punched her in the shoulder, getting a yelp from her.

"Nothing like that"

Anna shortened the distance between you both so that she could look over your shoulder while you typed his number in.

"A note? Did you get help from the elderly variety?"

"Nah, just older."

She watched you as you quickly wrote a text, something short and straight to the point but with a kind tone still.

"We're barely a month here and you've already got a date," Anna grumbled before she scooted back to her chair to finish her food.

John wasn't the type of person who enjoyed texting. In fact, if it hadn't been for Johnny's encouraging, well really bothering him multiple times a day for almost a year, he still would carry his old Nokia. It had gotten the job done, he could text and he could call with it, but each time Johnny had seen it, he looked like he wanted to throw it out of the window, so John had relented and gotten a cheap second-hand one.

He still kept up the pretense of preferring his old one, just to get on Johnny's nerves now and then, but he had to admit, never out loud of course, that setting up a time in his phone to heat his house, so it would be toasty warm when he got home in the winter, was a convenience he didn't want to part from anymore. It had originally been to help his ex-wife with her arthritis but in the end, he had used that more than she had.

So when he had been cooking, really only heating up the leftovers Kate had brought him, and he'd been mindlessly staring out of the window, only to hear his phone go off with a new text message, he had half a mind to ignore it.

It would most likely be Kyle asking him something he had no idea how to answer or Simon who would use an administrative question, that he already knew the answer of, to weasle his way into a conversation about John's whereabouts and wellbeing.

Despite all of that, he still pulled the device out, and he was right. Well, partially. Because on top of Kyle's and Simon's texts was another one, from a new number but with a name he recognized. He had been hoping to hear from you soon, to go back into the little bubble, but he hadn't expected it so soon. It tugged a faint smile into the corner of his mouth.

'Just wanted to know when I'd get the chance to thank you, and where you'd like to go.'

His lips twitched. Even proper punctuation, hm? He didn't know if you'd done it for him or if that was something you focused on yourself, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

With a swipe of his thumb, he unlocked his phone, careful to not get on one of his boys' texts, and went to answer you.

'Like I said, there's really no need. Coffee will be fine.'

He watched as the little pen appeared, indicating you were already typing a response, and his smile widened a little.

'See, I'll show my grandma that and all I'm gonna get is a slipper to the face. If you only truly want to have coffee with me, that's fine.'

'But with how long you've helped me, I think it calls for more'

Ever since you had mentioned it the first time, he had wondered who your grandmother might be, what spitfire you might be related to, and while there was a handful he could see doing it, it mostly had left him with the amusing mental picture.

'And what does it call for?'

The pen stayed longer this time, the animation stopping a few times only to pop up again after a moment.

'Dinner?'

'Or lunch, if dinner's too much."

John felt the knot appear in his stomach again. Ever since his ex-wife had moved out, only leaving him the divorce papers that he had yet to sign, he had been hesitant to be seen in town for more than a few minutes. They were all lovely people but the disadvantage with as a tight-knit community as theirs was that everybody talked.

Between separation and his unwanted leave of absence had only been one afternoon, night, and morning, not even 24 hours, and yet everyone he had met that day looked at him with pity. A look so well-meaning but every time it was focused on him, it felt as if it was burning him, searing his very skin from the flesh. It had irritated him so much that in his effort to not say something unkind - so they would just fucking stop -, he had bitten his tongue so long that it had started to bleed a bit.

The almost altercations had been enough that it became obvious that John couldn't work like this, that a little bit of time off would do him good, and it did. It felt good to come to terms with it, even though he often caught himself reaching for her before his brain could fight off his dream with the bitter bite of reality. But for the most part, it also hadn't helped. He had grown so used to being on his own, to being able to exist without needing to worry about what others thought, that the idea of subjecting himself to their unwanted opinions was already grinding his gears.

Coffee had seemed like a small thing, something he could steel his nerves for, and then disappear for days on end before he had to endure the loud outside again. The two of you could've walked across town a little, he could've used it as an excuse to show you around just to not be in one place for too long, surely not long enough for anyone to make sure it was really him they had recognized.

But lunch or dinner? That meant being stuck in one place for a while, meant people would see him, meant people would perceive him once more, and acknowledge him not as his wife's husband, as the proud businessman and helpful handyman, but just as someone who failed.

The angry bubbling of his dinner pulled him out of his thoughts, his phone forgotten for a moment as he tried to salvage the damage. With the stove turned off and the pot pushed away from the hob, he took another glance at his phone, shooting you one last text before he powered it down.

'Think I'm gonna have to insist on the coffee. Maybe another time.'

You had always prided yourself on being able to read people's moods very well, even through text, a skill born out of necessity in your childhood that was only sharpened with experience as you got older. You tried not to let it get to you, but you couldn't help but feel a bit dejected at John's last response, noticing the change in his mood in his texts no matter how often you read them.

But each to their own, right? There could be a dozen reasons for that shift, and if he was only up for coffee, you wouldn't argue with that. If anything - your brain quickly tried to rationalize - it could be better, a chance to combine something fun with work, allowing you to see what you might wanna offer once you've rebuilt the bakery with Anna.

The next day came and John's text was forgotten beyond telling Anna what day and time you'd be gone. Instead, you found yourself outside, a light jacket wrapped around your body, autumn already chilling the early morning air. With a to-go coffee (once again, not from a fast-paced coffee shop) in one hand and the other in your pocket, hooked around Anna's elbow, the two of wandered the streets, heels clicking over the cobbles.

Your grandmother had been able to score the building for the bakery on a busy but cozy street, close enough to the town square that wandering customers could just stumble onto it but as you rounded the corner, it paled in comparison to the bustle the shops there received even this early in the day.

Anna noticed a shop to your left and just by looking at it, you knew that this would be one of the new shops that seemed to always put a frown on your grandmother's face.

"Coff-ee-holic, really?" You deadpanned, feeling a little bit of sympathy for your grandma.

"Can't go wrong with a pun."

You shot her a glare before you mentioned one word to her: "Henry." Anna's face contorted in disgust at your last long-term relationship. She had never hidden how much she had disliked him with you and mocked nearly daily his need to constantly spew puns, even when it was the wrong moment for them.

"He doesn't count. And it's an insult to puns to be compared to that…person."

Scoffing, you followed her to the menu display in one of the windows, glancing over the wide array of drinks. Passing your eyes past it, you could see the baristas working behind the counter, which took up almost half of their space, only leaving two seating sections in both corners. It was clear that they prioritized getting their customers a quick caffeine fix above comfort and coziness, which had been your grandma's priority above anything else.

"Hold that"

Faster than you realized, Anna had slipped her half-full cup into your hand and slipped out from your elbow, quickly heading into the shop. You opened your mouth to call her back but by that time you could already see her through the window standing in line, it was too late.

The line progressed at a pace that seemed like an impossible dream in the city you had called your home not too long ago. Sure, that was also due to the fact that this town simply didn't have the same numbers as a city, despite how well-patronized this shop was, but you'd also chalk up to these baristas being less stressed and more motivated than the overworked ones you had encountered before moving.

Hardly any time passed before Anna was at the front of the line and got her order, joining you again outside and taking a mouthful from her new drink. A moment later, her eyes widened and hummed happily.

"That's really good. Go on, give it a try."

Switching cups with her, you sipped hesitantly. Coffee wasn't something you usually enjoyed and while Anna preferred them nearly black, with just a hint of sweetness, yours could rather be dubbed as sugar with coffee than the other way around. It was generally just something you drank when you needed to get yourself going.

Despite all of that, although, you found yourself going back for seconds, this one was quite bigger than the first. There was still the bitterness, the telltale taste of coffee, but it wasn't overwhelming, mingling with a natural sweetness that made it tasty even to you.

"Okay, this is just unfair."

"Supposed to be some fancy blend that they make."

"Of course, it is."

The two of you shared a look - if this is what you'd be up against once the bakery is restored, you'd need a plan, and while that was music for the distant future, it wouldn't hurt to keep it in mind - before you continued your stroll.

It was true that in the years you were gone, the town had changed a lot but, as you and Anna kept exploring the streets, you found that it still had kept the charm you had yearned for in all the time away. Still largely immune to society's incessant need to rush towards goals, it invited you to take your time, to sit down and exhale, and really take this little town in. While progress clung to everything like mold in the corner, it hadn't been able to infect the base, hadn't been able to shake the ground and turn it into a mindless run-of-the-mill copy of everything else.

It still had heart, and in that moment, you made a promise to yourself. Regardless of what you'd need to do to fulfill your grandmother's wish because you knew it wouldn't succeed as an exact doppelganger of what she had created, so it had to change in some way, but you wanted to keep this. You didn't want the incessant grind to popularity, the soul-consuming hunt for bigger things that seemed to stare you in the face each time you opened your phone.

Instead, you wanted it to be the bliss of a job well done, the pride that would bloom in your chest when looking at what you'd achieved. You wanted the ache and tiredness in your bones from the hard work but free of infecting stress. No more thinking about quitting every day, only putting in the hours because you needed the money to survive. No, you wanted to enjoy yourself again, to have the drive to create your own living.

However, that would look like.

Hours passed and you were able to get the idea of how this town worked again: the gaggle of elderlies and adults who loved to spread gossip around, the people who seemed to belong to no group but who were largely protected by the whole community, and who could give you grief while living here if you got on their wrong side.

It wasn't a full picture by any means, but the corner pieces of the puzzle were in place, allowing you a glimpse at what the result might look like.

"Can we sit down somewhere? I’m hungry and my feet hurt," Anna grumbled and you cast your eyes around. You saw a glimpse of a small restaurant around the corner and you pointed towards it.

"That sound good?"

"Sure, as long as it has a seat and food, I don't care what it is."

Chuckling, you made your way towards it, only for you to catch sight of another shop to your left, making you stop and Anna stumble at the sudden movement.

The door was closed but all over it were names in a graffiti style but it looked less like it had fallen victim to a bored street artist and more like it was a design choice by the owners. Left and right of it were big, clear windows with several concept drawings, finished colored pieces, and pictures of people presenting those on their skin. Above the windows, in a graffiti font too, was the name of it.

"Death Or Glory… Jesus, that's edge behavior. You want some new ink?"

"Maybe…"

Anna opened her mouth for another question but paused as a dark shadow loomed over you, making you both take a look at the sky, where the sun was still brightly shining, only to hear someone speak behind you.

"'Scuse me."

The voice was low, a rumbling from deep within in the chest, but seemingly void of emotions, no polite uptick or annoyed frustration present. So, you turned around and felt the blood in your veins chill.

Dear fucking God, if looks could kill.

It didn't help that he was towering over both of you, making you reach for Anna almost on instinct and taking a step back, and covered nearly head to toe in black. Even his face was almost completely hidden, a mask sitting on the lower half, the fabric only stopping on the bridge of his nose. The little skin that should've been visible was darkened by him having the hood drawn deep into his face, leaving the only thing you could see of him were his eyes.

Despite the general warm attribution of brown as a warm color, all you could feel was ice as he glared down at you, and you felt yourself jump as his eyebrow ticked up, displeased by something.

"Move"

Never had one word sounded so terrifying and it was only thanks to Anna, who yanked you to her side so you'd free up the entrance, that you were even able to comply with his order.

There was no other word spoken, no thanks or anything else, he just walked through the door and let it slam shut behind him.

Utterly confused by that situation, you felt your blood thaw as your heart pounded painfully in your chest. The fear you had felt just seconds ago was gone and had been displaced by anger.

"What the hell? What was his fucking problem??"

Anna refused not to say anything to it, more focused on bringing her own heartbeat back to normal and avoiding being hit by your wild hand movements, your body's response of releasing the agitation in your system.

You grabbed her hand and took her with you as you stomped your way to the restaurant, muttering annoyances under your breath.

"Fucking weirdo. I hope I never have to see him again."

The door closed behind Simon and, alerted by the sound, Johnny peaked his head around the corner, arms full of boxes of protective gloves.

"Ye been ta John's?"

"Tried. Wouldn't open the door."

Johnny heaved a sigh, putting the boxes away and running a hand through his short hair.

"How many times is this now?"

"Didn't bother counting. Too many, tho."

Both men looked at each other. Something needed to happen. It had been several weeks by now and while they all knew that their boss wouldn't be able to just shake the pain off, the way John seemed eager to not be seen by anyone if he could help it, left them all with heavy hearts. No one expected a healed wound but it felt more like John was eager to keep them gaping as long as possible.

"What do we get today?"

"Next appointment's in two hours, longer piece but tha's about it. Pretty sure ye scared off a possible walk-in. Ain't like I'm doin' inventory fer fun."

Simon just shrugged, taking his balaclava off and replacing it with a surgical mask.

At first, they hadn't thought anything about it. Customers always fluctuated a bit, but it was never a cause of concern: tattoos were expensive, most weren't signing up for the next after one piece was done, and despite the town being somewhat of a tourist secret tip, walk-ins had never been a lot.

But after the second week of John being gone, it became clear that people were avoiding them as if they'd catch a dose of his bad luck if they stepped into his shop. A silly notion that Simon refused to believe at first until he heard it parrot back by their regulars, pushing their appointments to "just gimme a ring when he's back".

Of course, things only got worse after Johnny had gotten into a fight, the rumors got out of control, and now weeks later, they were fully struggling.

Perks of a small town, right?

"Off to better things."

Simon cocked an eyebrow and watched Johnny take a flyer out of his pockets, and as soon as he saw the big, colorful letters, he was rolling his eyes and pushed past Johnny, conversation evidently done.

"Absolutely not."

But had he ever been cautious around Simon, he had long grown immune to it because Johnny was hot on his heels.

"Oh come on, ye weren't coming to the last one, either. Or any before tha'."

"And I ain't going to. Same thing every time."

"Could be good ta mingle with the folks. Prove ta 'em tha' were not as bad as they think, aye?"

Simon turned around, staring down at Johnny, but when the latter refused to back down, he simply said:

"Ask Kyle."

The rest of the day had been uneventful. Anna and you had continued to explore a little after lunch, mostly following your foggy memories and piecing together who you remembered, and also who remembered you, and what had fallen away in the meantime.

By the time you were finally back, the two of you were satiated and fed but also so very tired and dead on your feet that the call of your bed was more similar to a siren's song, and nothing sounded better at that moment than to lie down on it, even if it was your turn with the mattress on the floor.

"We need a place of our own," she repeated the senitment and you only hummed in exhaustion. That was future you's problem while present you had a hot date with Morpheus. You could feel your eyelids growing heavier by the second, sleep taking over you as you heard a loud crash above you.

Anna and you sat up ramstock straight, sharing a glance for barely a second before you both jumped into action, immediately locating the source of the noise to come from your grandmother's room.

You yanked the door open, taking two steps at once to get to the upper floor, and only stopped once you were at her door, repeatedly knocking hard enough on her door that it shook in its frame.

You paused for a moment, listening for sounds on the other side and when none came, you pulled the door open and saw your grandmother kneeling on the floor.

"Are you alright?"

In a few long and fast strides, you were next to her, checking her for any visible injuries but, after noticing the concern in your eyes, she just waved you off.

"'m fine, dearie. Didn't fall."

Anna stopped next to you, blood pressure cuff in her hand. She pulled the loose fabric of your grandmother's nightgown up her arm and wrapped the cuff around it, making sure the tube was in the middle, and then started the device.

"Then what was that noise?"

She cast her eyes down for a moment, seemingly thinking about her answer before a kind smile appeared on her features and she spoke reassuringly.

"That book pile fell over. Had it on the chair and I accidentally tipped it over."

Following her eyes, you saw the chair still fallen over, the books she had mentioned weren't on the ground but on the table in front of the chair.

"So why are you on the floor?"

"Just had to take a small break. Didn't expect the cavalary to come knocking." She chuckled but it didn't reach her eyes. Something wasn't right and you felt a chill settle in your body; you didn't like this.

"On..the floor?"

"What, I remember you preferring to rest in all sorts of odds places. Gave me a fright the first time I found you in the tub sleeping."

Yeah, when you were fifteen. You hadn't done that in years because your job had left your bones too exhausted to be able to get up with no issue, which made it that less believable for your grandmother at her age to prefer the hard wooden floor instead of her soft bed, just a few meters away.

"Just help an old lady up, will ya?"

#crown writes #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader

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yandere-sins · 1 year

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The Orcas' Tale - Chapter II

Right choice, baby! And we get some alone and exploration time with Krill, isn't that lovely? Hope you guys will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it ♥ Krill's reference is getting drawn up just as I post this chapter, so it's double as exciting for me to see my descriptions come to life!

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Orca Mermen x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Monsters, Manhandling, Threats, Dub-consensual touches, Animalistic behavior, Mention of claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death, Long post

"Fine, then…"

Taking a deep breath, you looked between the three expectant pairs of eyes before locking onto Krill's. None of them created a feeling of safety, but of all of them, Krill was the one you had interacted with the most. Gulping, you nodded at him, not needing to speak his name out loud before a smug grin parted his lips, showcasing the rows of sharp teeth behind them.

"Everyone else, out," he ordered, his voice an assertive command as he lifted his body further out of the water, slowly clawing his way over to you. Lyr let out the longest, most disappointed sigh you had ever heard someone make, its high tone reminding you of the sharp whistle of a teapot. Still, he slipped into the pool with a taunting, "I've got something better to do anyway."

Nerrocan said nothing. When you pried your eyes from Krill's, you saw his upper body slumping, but the next second he jumped into the pool head-first and was gone. You had no idea if he was disappointed or relieved as he made his exit as fast as possible. And yet, you wished he would have stayed for some reason. Maybe just so you wouldn't have to face this giant predator, stalking towards you on his hands and arms, alone. Have someone be the voice of reason since the differences between you two were just too big to find common ground.

With a surprised squeak, you were ambushed by Krill, his arms wrapping around you before he turned you both around, squeezing and pressing you against his chest. With a loud "Uff!" you fell to your butt, only to realize the ground you were sitting on was wet and slick, making you shoot out your hands to find hold. However, it wasn't ground you were sitting on. It was a body.

It explained the weird sensation and friction against your wet suit, and you were always on the brink of slipping off as you realized in horror that Krill had pulled you on top of him while lying under you. A throaty laugh escaped the merman as he grabbed you by the forearms, having watched your struggles for a bit before steading you on top of him and placing your hands on his pecs. You bit your own lip as a moment of curiosity overcame you, seeing the sheer difference in size; the sensation of your teeth against your lips tearing you out of it.

You wanted to pull your hands away, but all you could do was release a gasp as Krill pressed his claws to your skin, a quiet warning. Finally, you looked up, puncturing red orbs watching your every move with a drilling intensity. Not even the blue light could make his eyes any less piercing and brilliant, almost as if they were made from rubies.

"Relax," he purred, the sound rumbling through his whole body and transferring onto yours. It didn't help you calm down, but you forced yourself to listen and focus, not letting the surprise and panic overtake you and upset him. Krill watched as you straightened your back, pulling your legs a bit higher so you'd find some hold on his massive body, your toes barely able to touch the ground when fully stretched anyway. You felt like a child on top of a way too big horse, legs barely able to go around his midriff, but the chortles and chuckles coming from him seemed to indicate Krill didn't mind as you tried to get more comfortable.

Sensing your newly acquired balance, he dropped his hands from your arms, one to capture your wrist, lifting it up so he could see. Krill had settled on what you assumed before was a bed, on top of the soft seal fur, slightly leaning against the back wall. A look over your shoulder revealed that his tail fin was still splashing in the pool, confirming your assumption that there wouldn't be enough space for their whole bodies inside this cave.

Flicking your wrist back and forth between his thumb and pointer, Krill hummed thoughtfully—a sound you'd come to hear more often as he explored onwards. First, his hands went to your legs, wet palms, webbing, and claws driving over your wetsuit, the fabric getting stuck on the gold rings he wore, briefly squeezing your thighs before he focused his attention on your right foot, scooping it up in his palm and demanding it closer to his face so he could watch you wiggle your toes. With bated breath, you put on the greatest show for him, making all five of your toes rise simultaneously and in turns as best as you could. Your effort paid off as Krill chuckled again, helping you back into your position on top of him by placing your foot where you had settled it before.

"You're really freakin' soft," he mumbled under his breath as his hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing the air out of your lungs but never pressing longer than necessary. It made you realize that he wasn't out to hurt you. In fact, he might actually be as curious about you as you were about him. "I noticed it before, but that's just…"

The feeling of his claws softly digging into your back made you arch. The tight muscles beneath you rubbed against your privates, the wet suit not giving as much coverage as you would have liked at that moment. Involuntarily, you let out a gasp, immediately burning up from embarrassment and averting your eyes while Krill's inquisitive hands drove beneath your arms, wrapping around your chest. He probed at your joints, pushing your shoulders back, your soft skin so very different from the hard surface his body created. You wondered if someone more built and muscular than you could even come close to the firmness of Krill. Inhaling deeply, you dared to look up at him again, noticing how his eyes shot up to meet yours, his grin widening as he pulled you a bit higher on top of his chest. "What about you? Aren't you curious?"

You gulped.

Yes, you were terribly curious about these creatures. No, you couldn't let this get the best of you. But, God. You wanted to learn more about them. Everything you could find, you wanted to know, preserving your knowledge in a thorough report forever. These creatures were dangerous and too sentient while also harboring animalistic traits to be comfortable with. But so were countless other creatures on this planet. And you just had a chance to research them thoroughly.

"Can I?" you asked, holding your breath as you wondered if you were testing your luck. This may have been a test. Maybe Krill would refuse, leading you on because he could tell your curiosity from the sparkle in your eyes. "Be my guest," he suddenly interrupted your thoughts, wrapping his palms around your arms to guide them forward. You were back to touching him, your hand barely enough to capture any part of him, but it guided your attention to really look at what you were dealing with.

His muscles should not have awed you as much as they did, looking almost the exact same as a human bodybuilder's who was dehydrated before a show. You weren't sure if he could even dehydrate as a mermaid, but since his skin was so taut, maybe he merely lacked fat in these regions. However, what made you wonder the most was the jewelry he wore. At least they looked like jewelry.

You leaned forward, one of his hands instinctively reaching up, supporting your lower body as you went for the sharp teeth dangling from a leathery necklace. "Are those… sharks?" you asked absentmindedly, knowing the answer without even needing one from him. "Yup!" Krill replied, pride swinging in his voice as he lifted one up in his hand as well. "One for every bastard I killed."

You hummed in acknowledgment, aware that real orcas and sharks didn't get along well, either. Still, with the words of the voice you heard before nagging in the back of your mind, another question arose. "Are they real sharks, or are they…" Swallowing the rest of the sentence, you let go of the tooth, gesturing at Krill instead.

"Oh, they're like me, alright."

He immediately understood your question, grinning from ear to ear as your eyes widened. You took in the size of the teeth dangling from his neck again and realized that these shark mermaids must have been giant as well. "Isn't it dangerous?" you whispered, fear crawling through your bones again, making your body prickle. However, instead of an answer, Krill suddenly picked you up, lifting you into the air as he twisted his body to the left side, placing you next to him and propping his head on his hand.

"Hm, for you? Maybe. Us? Not so much. You have an alright head on your shoulders. You should know who wins these kinds of fights."

Tapping his pointer finger claw to your forehead, you instinctively closed your eyes, only for him to chuckle at your reaction. "Orcas," you guessed, knowing very well that the real animals put up a good fight, but a shark had no chance against a group of orcas.

"Clever," Krill chuckled, the arm he used to hold himself up wrapping around you from behind, pulling you closer while he used his free right arm to direct your hand back to his body. Forcing your palm to smooth over his tail, you could have almost mistaken him enjoying your exploration more than even you did, but you wouldn't wait for him to ask again to take advantage. Kneeling, you were high enough to look over him, giving you the advantage of height to see. The patterns on his body were remarkably close to an orca, and you realized that until now, you still somewhat had doubts about their heritage. Doubts that were slowly dissolving.

Scars littered his skin, paling the black ever so often. Scars that were long and must have been deep to remain on his otherwise taut and strong body. You could only guess his age, but you didn't think Krill was too old to heal from wounds, so these must have been from fights, the marks looking like scratches that gave away who he must have fought with. The space between his hips and tail was covered by a leathery, brown belt, the fabric wrapping around him completely. There was even a small sachet dangling from it, and what surprised you more: a dagger. Sheathed in the same leather, the silver metal grip still had a remarkable resemblance to a human sword, but it was nowhere near your hand size. An authentic mermaid relict and you were dying of curiosity from it. However, you doubted Krill would give it to you, given the questionable captivity you were in. You were almost too scared to ask him, but the question resolved in a matter of seconds.

"Not there," Krill snapped suddenly as you lowered your hand to the top of his tail, on the inside between his human body and the fish one.

"Sorry!" you squeaked, taken aback by the sudden refusal and jumping away with your hands raised defensively. Krill grumbled a little, then suddenly decided to roll over onto his stomach. You got to your feet just in time to not be caught underneath his body, and Krill let out a satisfied sigh as he laid flatly on top of the ledge. But when you looked up at him, his head resting on his arms, you were met with his gaze, as intense and burning as ever.

"Continue," he ordered, fortifying your belief he might actually be enjoying this. You gulped, now feeling a bit more hesitant after the sudden outburst just now. Being unable to talk about the dagger you saw was disappointing, but you decided to stay on his good graces for now.

Stepping closer, the first thing that caught your attention came as a surprise. "A dorsal fin," you muttered, looking at the triangle on top of his fish half. You hadn't noticed it before, but you realized it must have been uncomfortable to lay on it. Even so, Krill didn't complain, nor did he when you placed your hands on it, even squeezing tentatively into the tissue, realizing it was almost the same as the ones you had studied before. That, admittedly, did get you a bit excited.

"Sorry," you whispered again as Krill's tail flinched from your touch, and he grumbled a little. But to your surprise, you found his eyes close as you searched for his face. It was both honorable that he seemed to be relaxing, as well as a bit offensive. You posed no threat to him. He had no reason to watch you. Leaving his dorsal fin, you continued upwards, your gentle touch tracing up the spine of his tail to where it connected to his upper body. You were almost scared to press, but you did so anyway, finding his tail to be a bit more tender than his human parts. Unfortunately, you couldn't feel his spine beneath it. But you found something else that piqued your interest.

"Are those from sharks, too?" you asked, tracing the scars on his body with your fingers.

"Sharks and others. I don't keep count of what bit and scratched me, just of the things I killed for trying."

"So there are many different species of your kind down here, huh?"

"Guess so. Too many to count or even remember. All that matters is protecting the pod and making sure we have enough to eat. Oh, and having fun while at it, of course."

You could hear the grin on his face as he added the last sentence. The cruelty of orcas was not something you were unaware of. Apparently, this merfolk had the same definition of "fun" as their animal counterparts. It wasn't a surprise, but somehow it felt like a disappointment as you had credited them for being better than that. Scary, nonetheless.

"Oh, but this one-" Reaching his hand back, Krill found yours, guiding it to a big scratch on his back, just above his tail. "-Mom was so angry when I got this one. I went out on my own to hunt for food for her since she was pregnant with Lyr. It was the first time I hunted alone, and I got ambushed by sharks. One of them got me good. They wanted my head just because they hate us."

Rightfully so, you thought but kept it to yourself. Given how Krill had admitted to being just as cruel as other orcas, you could only imagine the severity of hate between these two species. Krill raised his body briefly, revealing that the scar wrapped around to the front.

"Somehow, Mom must have realized where I was, and she came barging in with all the others to save me. But I will never forget the scolding I received while I got treated for my injuries. My aunts kept telling her to calm down because she was pregnant and I was in pain, but she shut them all down. She's the leader; her word goes above everyone else. And now, well... I blame that day for Lyr not being right in his head."

There was no bite to his words, only fond memories and a chuckle at the end about the joke he made. "Haven't talked about that in a while," he noted after a moment of silence. His eyes opened, but he stared off into the distance, unfocused. "I wonder if it's my fault…"

"What is? What do you mean Lyr's not right in his head?" The questions spilled out before you could stop yourself. Curiosity would kill you one day, but you couldn't help it. You had long settled by his side, innocently listening to his words and, unbeknownst to you, relaxed while Krill spoke, his voice even and melodic, and the conversation comfortable. But when he curled his body so he could look at you, the red of his eyes made you tense up immediately, never letting you forget that you were in no position to ask your questions.

Krill eyed you, perhaps suspiciously for the first time. As if he was wondering whether the information he could tell would give you a chance to hurt him. Him or anyone else. However, you weren't a threat, and you lowered your eyes apologetically for daring to overstep.

But to your surprise, he only ever reached out, pulling you from your place next to his tail forward until he could wrap the arm around you, forcing you to sit right next to his head. Unexpectedly, he collected your legs before heaving his head on top of them, resting the side of his face on you. He was heavier than anyone before who used you as a lap pillow, that much was sure, but since you could lean into his arms around you, it wasn't as uncomfortable as you feared.

His hair was shorter than Nerrocan's, short in the front, longer in the back, like a mullet. One side was cut down into a sidecut, and most of it was a dark white instead of Nerrocan's long, black hair. An odd choice for a hairstyle for such a fearsome creature you found, but it fit his daring attitude. He certainly had the aura of a leader, which made more sense now that you knew about his mother. And with him taking the time to talk to you and make deals, never showing fear or hesitations in this kind of situation, he definitely acted that way. You couldn't help but play with the strands, soft and wet from the water, shining black on top.

Scanning his features, an odd thought crossed your mind. Krill was quite handsome.

You had felt the same when you looked at Nerrocan, both embodying beauty standards in different ways. At least until the fish parts. Strangely, you didn't have this feeling for Lyr, though you had to admit you didn't really have the time to look at him either. Combing your fingers through his hair, you felt emboldened by having the apparent trust of this creature, deciding to prod a little more.

"Why did you say that about Lyr?" you whispered softly, not wanting to upset the giant in your lap. Krill's eyes fluttered open, his gaze shifting briefly to you before he let out a deep sigh, the sound echoing through the cave.

"Something happened to him. He… changed. Refused to hunt for the pod one day, despite being one of the best, and never went back to it. He ignores Mom and orders from me or her, and does whatever he wants instead. Sometimes he disappears for days before returning like nothing happened, with a few fresh scars and a grin on his face as if he's going mad. Also, he lost a lot of weight. Maybe he's sick? His fin collapsed, and we could help him if he'd let us, but he's stubborn, that prick."

Letting out another frustrated puff, the gills on his neck flaring, Krill lifted his head before plunging it face down into your lap, creating friction with your wetsuit. If you didn't know better, you'd say he liked the sensation against his skin, but he stopped before long, placing his head sidewards and looking up at you from the corner of his eye.

"Lyr has problems, and Nerrocan has ideas. I know they are their own orcas, but they could come to me, and we'd talk about whatever is going on. I taught them everything, you know? I've been with them since they were wee calves. You'd think that would mean something in this family."

With that, Krill lifted himself upwards, supporting himself on his arms and looking down at you, his brows furrowing as the mood turned serious. "Don't tell them what I said, understood? I shouldn't have said anything, but you're… easy… to talk to. You wouldn't dare to go against me—we both know that."

Slowly, Krill moved backwards, his body sinking back into the pool. "Besides, you owe me."

"Do I?" you questioned, his choice of words ticking you off. One second, it felt like you were building a connection between you two; the next, he pushed you away. Verbally and with physical distance. You could see the relief on his expression as he sank into the water, making you realize that a prolonged stay out of it was probably not comfortable. But then, his eyes snapped open, an authoritarian air emitting from the previously gentle giant in your lap.

"Of course you do. You would have died up there, and you know it. I rescued you, opened my home to you, and made sure you wouldn't be killed by the others in my pod. Our females would not have taken kindly to you had they found you first."

"Someone would have come for me, I know it! I didn't have to rely on you–"

"Oh, please," he snorted, running a wet hand through his hair, moisturizing his scalp and face. "You were lost out there. The sounds of that metal thing had long disappeared from the waters, and with your flimsy… legs, they're called, right? You wouldn't have come far on your own. You do owe me, and the same for the others who kept you a secret from the rest of the pod. You should be a bit more grateful."

"Excuse me–!" you tried to argue when he suddenly snapped his teeth at you, making you flinch away.

"No more," he hissed. "They're coming back, and I don't want to hear a word of what we said. Just be grateful and return our kindness. Amuse us, or I don't see why we should keep you with us."

With almost no delay, the water parted on either side of Krill, revealing the familiar heads of your other two 'saviors'. Lyr perked up at the sight of you, and if he noticed your hesitations, he pretended not to see. You glanced back at Krill, who held your gaze with a commanding aura, and you didn't dare to say anything, even though you hated that you had to bend to Krill. You knew he was right, and the anxious part of your brain tended towards thankfulness for the orcas for saving you. But it still didn't feel right. It was a reminder that you weren't their equal and they had no respect for you. With your differences, you had doubts that they'd see you as anything but a lesser lifeform, given how they felt superior over you. And you knew that they were, even if you wanted to disagree with their views.

"We're not sure, but the older females think you humans like to make yourself pretty, right? The pod's been collecting these, but we don't really have any use for them. Do you want them?"

Lyr's voice caught you off-guard, and you flinched, causing Krill to let out a curt warning growl that didn't go unnoticed by the others. They didn't question their leader. Turning towards Lyr, you scanned over the things he held in his palm: an ivory comb, a small plastic bottle of hand sanitizer, and a delicate-looking tube of… lipstick? You didn't even want to think about how long these things had been in the water, all of them looking worn down, with the plastic bottle being the newest addition. You couldn't see yourself using any of these items besides the comb. Even if just to regain some sanity from the familiarity of combing through your hair. But sticking to it were algae, and the material looked crusty, like it had been down here for a while. Not very hygienic.

"That isn't even close to what a human needs," Nerrocan suddenly spoke up. When he got out of the water, he didn't waste time presenting what he brought back, throwing a massive slab of meat in front of your feet. Not meat. Fish. And not just any fish, a gigantic one, the piece as big as your whole body. It lacked a head and fins, making it unrecognizable, but with the meat cut open, you could see the typical fish flesh. You were too scared to ask what it was as you realized you couldn't make it out on your own. Part of you wanted to think it would be edible, but a much more horrific thought crossed your mind.

What if it was another mermaid?

Your stomach betrayed you with a growl, and your mind unwillingly drifted off to freshly made sushi, a luxury you were sure wouldn't be served down here. But could you bring yourself to actually eat whatever they were serving you? You glanced back at the comb and its sharp edges, the crusts on top of it. It might cut your scalp and infect it, too, if you weren't careful. But by the look Krill gave you, you knew you had to make a decision soon. He wanted to see your appreciation for their efforts, no matter how much this made you feel sick to the stomach.

"What do you want?" Krill asked, voicing your racing thoughts in your head. Your eyes bounced from the strange food to the comb and back to Krill, everything screaming inside you to refuse either option and ask to be finally brought home after indulging him. But would that even work? Would they let you go this easily? As you thought about it, you were faced with three apparent choices.

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theamityelf · 2 months

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i am eating and chewing your yandere content, its so good, i love it so so much, if youre still taking requests maybe some yandere mukuro and naegi? I always think there's a lot of potential there but there's not a lot of content for it

Oh, I love it. I need to pick what time period I'm going with...

----

It didn't take much.

A smile, a greeting. Asking about her opinions and experiences. The time he asked if she needed help carrying her bag (and she had to run away because if he came any closer he would notice the smell of blood coming from inside it), the time he asked her if she was coming to lunch (and she blushed so badly, Junko later said her face looked like one big zit). Or maybe it was nothing to do with her at all; maybe it was because of how he was with everyone else, or how they were with him.

Maybe it was even as simple as the fact that she was used to traveling light, used to picking a few things she could carry and disregarding everything else.

She could carry him easily.

"Uh, Mukuro?" he said. "Are you okay?"

Right, she'd been staring. He'd taken the time to ask her if she wanted to join his group for ice cream after school, and she was being weird.

How embarrassing. She was definitely blushing again, now.

Well, it wasn't like that mattered. She was weird. She was socially inept and ugly and useless, and none of that mattered. Because the world was going to end soon, anyway. Maizono or Kirigiri could take him to a school dance, but Mukuro could pull him from the school before it turned into a warzone.

"Go on without me," she finally said. "I need to discuss something with Junko."

"Oh, okay. See you tomorrow!" Makoto and his friends vacated the classroom, leaving only...the 'despair sisters'.

Junko was sitting in her seat, filing her nails. Mukuro walked over to her and just stood there, waiting to be acknowledged. There was no doubt that her sister already knew everything she was feeling. She always did.

"Well?" Junko eventually said, her eyes meeting Mukuro's with cool amusement. "Are you too scared to ask, or do you just love wasting my time, skank?"

"I'm not scared," Mukuro answered. She did have a heightened awareness of the seriousness of this situation, but what she felt wasn't fear. "And...I'm also not asking."

"Gadzooks! Could it be that the worm has grown a spine?!"

"He can easily be spared from the plan. We don't need him in order to do what we intend to do."

"No sh!t, dumb*ss! The despair doesn't kick in when it's fvcking necessary!"

"The despair doesn't kick in if the plan doesn't happen, either." Mukuro's fingernails bit into her palms, as she forcibly steeled her tone and held her sister's gaze. She'd never threatened disobedience like that before. "You have everyone else in the class. You have me. You don't need him. Really, for a guy like him to keep his memories and watch them die that way...it would be more despairful than losing his memories and getting killed in the first or second round without understanding anything."

"So. You're suggesting he languishes in the data center while the killing game plays out, then you collect him in your nasty little arms once it's all over? Once the world is in ashes and there's no one else to love but you?"

"Essentially, yes."

Junko's lips curved. "And what's your contingency plan for how he'll react to knowing your designs for him?"

"He won't know about it until it happens."

And Junko's expression went blank, as though she found Mukuro's answer terribly boring. She rolled her eyes. "Fvcking atrocious. I can't even hint with you. Hey, Ultimate Soldier. You didn't secure your perimeter. Kind of a rookie mistake, dontcha think?"

"What?"

She dipped her head to the side, indicating a desk a few seats away where a familiar composition book lay open. "He forgot his notebook, smart*ss."

Mukuro wheeled around and heard a gasp from the doorway, and then retreating footsteps.

She broke into a sprint. Naturally, she was able to catch him, hand-gag him, and drag him into an unoccupied classroom before he could even think to yell.

Makoto's ineffectual squirming, his kicking and his elbowing, his growling and his vain attempts to speak...Mukuro was sure that she was blushing again, as she allowed more of her body to touch his than was strictly necessary to subdue him.

She was restricting his airflow, so he was going to pass out very shortly. And then she would have to contend with her sister. But for now...

"H-Hi," she said awkwardly, as he struggled in her arms. "Um, sorry. Sorry that I, uh...If I'd known that this would happen, I would've laid down a rug here. And maybe worn some perfume. I mean, I guess you can't breathe anyway..."

Fortunately, Makoto lost consciousness before she could say anything else.

She let go of him, so she could watch him slide out of her arms and rest on the tiles, all helpless. She took stock of what he must have overheard. Jeez, she must have sounded like such a pathetic, lovesick...

She heard Junko coming before the door moved. Immediately, she positioned herself defensively in front of him. Her sister was not allowed to kill him. That was the one thing in the world she wasn't allowed to do.

"Well, this is a clusterfvck, isn't it?" Junko deadpanned. "I guess not much of a cluster. It's just him. This one tripping hazard of a guy. I could just bite his little cheeks."

"I've never asked you for anything. Just him."

"Au contraire! You're not asking, remember? Where did that spine go? Did your body reabsorb it?"

"I-"

"This is boring. Take him to your dorm room, keep him there. I'll figure out what to do about this, as always. Can you manage an iota of stealth this time, you troll?"

Mukuro's heart soared. "Yes. Thank you."

"Oh, shut up. Out of my sight."

She princess-carried him to her room.

----

(I thought about making Kyoko the one who overheard, but the outcome there would be too similar to the Yandere Taka one.)

#danganronpa #yandere mukuro ikusaba #yandere naekusaba #mukuro ikusaba #makoto naegi #naekusaba #junko enoshima #yandere

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 27 days

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Here we go, part two of the werewolf Peter au.

Warning: Aro is an ass, as usual, and Peter is not doing well mentally, as usual but worse now

On with the fic!

It had been...

A weird morning.

To say the least.

Peter had kinda come to expect that he was going to wake up either destroying his bedroom, like he did last month, or waking up naked in a random place, like the first two months of this insanity he now called his life. It turned out to be the latter, which was fine, he didn't want to have to explain how sex left his room trashed and his bed smashed for a second time.

But it wasn't really that fine, he had found himself naked and covered in blood again, in some random alley far from the Vegas Strip. The last thing he remembered was drinking a whole hell of a lot, which has actually become harder to do since this whole wolf thing started, and blacking out while watching TV.

Next thing he knew, he was in a smelly alley way, and some smartly-dressed vampire was standing above him. Peter would have either been running for his life or being a complete bastard about the situation if it wasn't for the fact that he still hadn't finished transforming and pain was very much his biggest issue to deal with.

Body horror looks cool in the movies, but is the absolute worst in reality.

The vampire seemed super amused by all this, fucker, and then had the balls to offer to take Peter home to 'discuss things', or whatever. Peter should have told him to go sit on a stake, but honestly? He was exhausted, filled with horrible shame and hatred and guilt, and needed a shower like crazy. And maybe five cups of coffee.

So, he offered to let the vampire take him home, wondering how they would do that now that the sun was rising.

Apparently, this vampire could run. Really, really fast.

Peter threw up on the floor when they got to the elevator of the hotel and the vampire had been an ass and dropped him for it.

Once up in the penthouse, and going against every instinct and letting the vampire in, Peter had finally gotten his shower. It totally didn't last longer than it needed because he was crying, nope, never happened, he just wanted to make sure all the blood was gone.

When he came out, dressed in a robe and nothing more, he found the vampire at hardly-used kitchen table, the one that looked super gothy and was made of iron, with a fresh cup of coffee on it. Peter felt no shame in downing the damn thing, but he probably should have been cautious. The vampire could have drugged it.

Not that drugs have much effect now, uhg.

After two more cups, Peter was ready to talk.

"Who the fuck are you?" He asked, tapping his nails on the side of his mug.

The vampire had sat quietly this whole time, smiling that eerie smile of his, his red eyes practically twinkled with unspoken amusement. Ew.

"I am Aro, and I am to assume that you were Peter Vincent, yes?"

"How'd you know that?"

"You are not subtle with your egotism in this place. Also, I have seen the billboards around the city, and your 'collection' does not shy away from also being self-advertisement for you and your... magic act?"

"Performance." Peter sneered. "It's a performance. Anyway, what the hell did you even want to talk to me about? Cause I'm sure you can already guess that I do not like vampires and I do not trust or make deals with 'em."

"Your collection of memorabilia and weapons, if you wish to call them that, speaks differently about your hatred for my kind. But then again, it's cute if you want me to believe that you are a hunter, as I am guessing that's what all this is about." He waved a hand around lazily in the direction of the collection.

Peter glared over the rim of his mug, taking a long drink. "I am a hunter."

"How many have you killed?" He asked, but the tone indicated that he knew the answer, and Peter didn't like that.

"Does it matter?"

"It might."

Peter shifted and set down the mug. "A few, not a lot, but a few, it's better than none."

Aro just smiled more, it made his crow's feet show, he was messing with Peter. Fucker. "Maybe, maybe not. Does your hunting have anything to do with your current situation of being a shapeshifter? Or has this always been a thing?"

With a groan, Peter rose from the table, going to refill the mug and put a few splashes of scotch in it. "It's... not. I won't tell you the details, but I got bit about five months ago, and started changing afterwards, last night was the fourth one."

"And I am to assume you are of the wolf variety?"

Peter blinked. "There's more? Like, I mean, I know some myths and folklore mention other animals, but it's usually wolves. Fuck, I could have been somethin' else?"

"There are those of the vampire variety that can become bats, making them shapeshifters, but not of the kind of creature you are. You seem to be a full-on werewolf, though I have only seen you in a recovery state. I would need to see your full form in order to make sure."

"Oh, fuck no, you ain't seein' me like that! I don't even know what I look like!"

"Did you not see the creature that bit you?" Aro asked, tilting his head in a way that made Peter hate him a little bit more.

"He wasn't a wolfman when he fuckin' bit me, idiot. He was human, we were goin' at it and it was gettin' super hot, then this fucker bit me on the shoulder and tried to do it again. So, I punched him, he freaked out, ran off. Didn't even register it was the full moon that night until a month later when I woke up naked and bloody somewhere away from where I had been the night before."

Aro hummed, thinking on this, before rising from the table and approached Peter. He was slightly shorter, Peter noted, but he felt intimidated by him all the same. "Show me?"

"S-show you what?"

"The bite. Unless if it healed?"

Peter didn't want to, but he felt like he didn't have much choice. He pulled down the collar of the robe, presenting the still red bite on his shoulder. The teeth indents had scarred over, but the area around them was still red, it still hurt sometimes, especially after the full moon.

Aro stared at it, then gently touched it, making Peter hiss at the icy contact against his burning skin. "Fuck..." He breathed, feeling his skin crawl at the sensation.

"Curious..." Aro frowned, red eyes focused on it. "Hmm, this might be a true werewolf bite, how rare, I haven't seen one in ages."

Peter covered the bite with his robe again, frowning hard. "What's that supposed to mean? You know what this is then?"

He then quietly added, "Is it curable?"

The vampire looked at him, face impossible to read. He seemed like a statue all of a sudden, and yet he was clearly reading Peter like a book. "Possible. I'd have to look into it, as I said, it's been ages since I've dealt with true werewolves, they are extremely rare nowadays. Most shapeshifters I've come across have been in control of their abilities, or it is of a culture. This, however, is a curse of sorts."

"Fuck." Peter grabbed his mug and downed it. "But there's a chance?"

Aro smiled, and Peter hated it. "Possibly, it may take some time. But if I were to... help you, I would like something in return?"

"And what would that be?"

"For you to work for me."

Still gotta figure out all the details, but just know Aro is playing Peter like a harp. I don't think there really is a cure for the whole werewolf thing, unless if it's one of those curses where you have to give it to someone else.

But Peter is going to be desperate for a cure, he wants this to end.

#good omens extended universe #vincturi #john's drabbles

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666writingcafe · 1 year

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Exam Prep, Part Two

Solomon

"For the practical part of your midterm, you'll have to deliver a curse or hex, and you'll have to block one."

"I know," MC replies. "The professor went over that in class today."

"Right. I keep forgetting that you're the studious type."

"Does that surprise you?" I smile.

"For you, no. It makes perfect sense. I'm just not used to working with people who are quite so attentive."

"I've always tended to be a bit of a bookworm."

"That's good. Knowledge is power." MC snorts in amusement.

"You sound like Satan."

"Where did you think he got that from?" MC briefly looks perplexed by my statement, but quickly shakes their head.

"Is something the matter?" I ask.

"Not particularly. It's just that the questions I have will end up sidetracking us, and I can't afford to waste any time." I chuckle. They're definitely the most responsible person that has ever stepped foot in the House of Lamentation.

"All right then. Let's get started. I believe you'll do fine as long as you maintain control, but it never hurts to practice. So, today you and I are going to have a friendly duel." I position MC at one side of the room, and I take my place at the other.

"Why a duel?"

"Because other than wanting to mess with someone, you'll most likely curse or hex someone while you're in a fight."

"I see."

"Now, when you're actively battling someone, you can't afford for them to know your next move. You also don't normally have a lot of time to plan, so each second is valuable."

"So, you have to have the curse you want to use in mind, and then silently deliver it."

"Exactly." I appreciate the fact that they learn quickly. It makes things a lot easier for me when I don't have to repeat myself constantly. "For this exercise, just worry about blocking me. Once you feel comfortable, we'll switch to you delivering. If we have time, then we'll duke it out."

"None of this is going to be lethal, is it?"

"Of course not. You can't take your exams if you're dead."

"Except if I turned into a ghost."

"But then you would have to get ghost-friendly supplies, and that seems like a lot of work for a simple midterm." That makes MC laugh.

"I suppose you're right," they say once they compose themselves.

"So, are you ready?" MC nods their head.

If it weren't for the fact that I'm confident in their blocking abilities, I wouldn't even think about delivering this curse to MC. The brothers would kill me if it actually stuck. However, it's the first curse that pops into my head, and nothing else is coming forward.

So, I silently utter the curse, and its energy shoots out of my hands and heads towards MC. As expected, they block the curse. However, instead of simply getting absorbed, the curse bounces off MC's magical shield and hits me square in the chest with enough force to send me backwards. My back hits the wall, causing me to slide down to the floor.

To say that I did not anticipate this happening would be an understatement.

"Solomon!" MC's panicking. "Are you alright?!"

"I'm okay." As I stand up, I make sure to avoid eye contact with MC.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" MC walks over to me and places a hand on my shoulder.

"Not permanently, no. I'll definitely be sore for a few days, though."

"I'm sorry, Solomon. I had no idea that this was going to happen."

"Neither did I. Very impressive." MC pauses. They must have picked up on the fact that I'm not looking at them.

"Solomon, what type of curse did you send?" I sigh.

"A love curse."

"Go on." If their tone is any indication of their feelings, MC seems cross with me.

"The person affected becomes infatuated with the first individual they lay their eyes on. The effects normally last for about a hour." They don't say anything for a couple moments, and I wonder if it would be more or less terrifying to have them yell at me for what I've done.

"How long have you had feelings for me?" The question catches me off guard. I wasn't expecting them to be so blunt.

"A while," I admit.

"Why me?"

"To be honest, I don't know. I haven't allowed myself to feel this way about anyone in a really long time, and yet somehow I've managed to grow quite fond of you."

"I see. Are you afraid you won't be able to control yourself once you look at me?" Damn. They're really observant. What else have they picked up on?

"Something like that. The combination of your power and my emotions will most likely intensify the effects of the curse, and I don't want to put you in a situation you don't want to be in."

"And yet you chose that particular curse." I feel like they're smirking at me.

"I knew it wouldn't hit you. You're an excellent blocker."

"Thank you." Footsteps indicate that they're walking away from me, and for a moment, I'm convinced that they're going to leave me in this room alone as punishment. However, the door not opening indicates that they're still here.

What exactly are they doing?

"Solomon?" Their voice is coming from the direction of the couch. Are they sitting on it?

"Yes?"

"How long do you reckon the curse would last under these circumstances?"

"At least a couple hours. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just making sure that I won't be missed." I'm confused.

"What are you getting at, MC?"

"I want you to look at me."

"You better not be joking." The words escape more harshly than I was intending.

"I'm completely serious. Of course, if you would rather I fetch someone else..." They trail off as my eyes finally meet theirs. Sure enough, they're sitting on the couch.

"That won't be necessary." I quickly walk over to the couch, where I lean down and kiss MC on the lips. Before I can pull completely back, MC pushes me onto their lap and deepens the kiss.

This is going to be a long afternoon.

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me solomon

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weloveakechi · 7 days

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As Dreamers Do Chapter 6

At last, Goro gets to do some investigating! And meet up with some characters we haven’t seen yet!

Content warning for this chapter it does include two scenes of implied/referenced suicide. Those take place just after Goro finishes speaking with Yoshizawa, and right after he’s done talking with Ryuji and Akira (the second scene is the last in the chapter). Please take care when reading.

First Chapter | AO3 Link

“Thank you so much for being willing to let me come ask some questions.” Goro’s best television smile is firmly in place as he shakes the hand of Principal Kobayakawa, head of Shujin academy in his office. It’s a few days after his conversation with Kurusu and Sakamoto and he’s finally managed to get a meeting set up.

Kobayakawa’s smile is as false as Goro’s, if for a different reason. Goro is here investigating, while the principal just wants to get Goro to join the school, “It’s not everyday we have interest from one of Japan’s finest! I can’t quite believe it myself, the next Detective Prince, interested in our school!”

Goro’s chuckle is light, disarming, “You have quite the reputation. Even the students at my current school can’t stop talking about Shujin’s volleyball team.”

The lies fall easily, smooth as butter. Feigning interest in the school is the quickest way for him to get his foot in the door, ask a variety of questions, and make his presence known without causing too much of a stir.

This is the kind of situation he needs to be delicate about. He can’t just burst in demanding answers about the rumored abuse the school's star coach is inflicting on his students. That would get him nowhere. Especially if the teachers and Principal are on his side the way the others believe.

“I’d love to see the gym, and even sit in on one of Mr. Kamoshida’s training sessions. I have to admit, I’m a bit of a fan.” His tone is just on the side of shyly interested to help make the lie more believable.

He knows he’s succeeded as soon as Kobayakawa nods, a wide smile on his face, it makes him look almost like a frog, “He is quite the player. We just knew hiring him would take our volleyball team to the top.” He checks something on his computer, “It looks like the team is in the middle of practice, why don’t I walk you over now? Then I’ll have one of our teachers give you the full tour. If you’d like, we’d love to have you sit in on a class or two.”

“I’d be delighted.”

There’s little special about the gym itself when Goro finally sees it. Not that Goro thought there’d be anything particularly unique about the location. It’s only been recently that they’ve started to shine in the world of sports. The only team that had ever really done notably well was the track team until Kamoshida was hired, since then the spotlight switched to volleyball, and the track team was dismantled. Learning that, and who was on it, gave Goro quite a bit of insight into Sakamoto’s reasons for being so focused on the man. Another victim in a long line of them, but one at least trying to do something about it.

As a school, Shujin is a good option for potential students. They turn out a higher than average graduation and acceptance rate to good colleges than many in their distinction. His research told him that students from Shujin often go on to be rather successful, which is another point in its favor. In fact, it’s a school Goro would have seriously considered in the past.

That said, some further digging indicated that despite their good standing, the school’s had a slight downward tick in graduations over the past couple years. It’s nothing too detrimental presently, but if not corrected will end up hurting the school’s reputation.

It’s surely why Kobayakawa has pushed so hard to put the school in the news, from hiring a gold medalist coach, to pushing a new honors student, and even taking in a troubled teen to give him a second chance. None of that solves the actual problem of failing grades or better providing for their teachers.

It does however, make complete sense as to why they’d turn a blind eye to Kamoshida’s blatant abuse of students.

The man in question is in the middle of shouting orders as they step into the gym. Facing away from them, he’s too busy pointing out flaws in various team members’ performances to notice the two people who have walked in.

“Umm, Coach–” One of the boys says.

“I said start again.” Kamoshida snaps, “Stop wasting time.”

Principal Kobayakawa clears his throat, “Excuse me.” He finally announces them.

Kamoshida turns on them, the annoyance on his face instantly wiping away as he catches sight of the visitors, “Principal Kobayakawa, what a surprise. Who is this with you?”

“This is Goro Akechi, he’s touring the school today as a potential transfer student.”

“Another one, huh.” Kamoshida says lightly, as he puts a hand out, “Looking to join the volleyball team?”

Goro takes it, Kamoshida’s grip on his hand is firm, almost too much so.

“I’ve heard so much about the team I had to take a look.”

Kamoshida laughs —a self assured sound if Goro’s ever heard one— before he leans over with a wink, “You don’t have to say it, I can read it all over your face, you’re a fan. Good to see you here. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like and observe.”

“We were going to do a more comprehensive tour after this.” The principal hedges, a little hesitant.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have one of the team escort him back your way when we’re done. That way he can get his full tour.” Kamoshida waves off his concern.

“Well, if you’re sure.” Kobayakawa turns to Goro, “I’ll leave you in Mr. Kamoshida’s capable hands. By the time you get back I’ll have a teacher lined up to walk you around.”

Goro gets little from the practice. Kamoshida’s on his best behavior with a stranger in the room, even if he doesn’t seem to realize just who Goro is. Some of the students do though, he catches a number of eyes lingering on him through the practice.

Even with no major hiccups, it’s not wasted time to be there. In fact, Goro’s done exactly what he set out to do: be seen by the volleyball students. If they want an opportunity to tell someone about their coach, he’s making himself as available as possible.

One of the girls volunteers to take him back to the front office, and after a nod from Kamoshida sidles up to Goro with a shy smile to take him back.

It turns out that no teachers are readily available to tour him around the school, a fact Goro could have told him before he’d left. Really, how someone so completely inept has stayed in Shido’s good graces so long baffles him.

Instead of a teacher, he called in one of the student council members. The president in fact.

Goro can’t help but shoot Sae Niijima’s little sister, Makoto, a wicked grin as she steps into the office.

“Hello, Niijima-san.” He gives her a little wave, deeply amused by this turn of events.

He won’t call what he has with Makoto Niijima a rivalry. It’s not that. But it isn’t nothing either. They pick at each other, prodding for weak spots, and viciously tug when they find one. It started as him teasing her a bit when she got jealous of how much time he spent with her sister, and over the years it’s evolved. If he were feeling gracious, he might label it almost akin to being siblings vying for a parents favor, with Sae-san as the parent.

“Akechi?” In her surprise she drops her normal insistence on honorifics.

Kobayakawa looks from one to the other before he nods, “Good, good. You both are already acquainted. I’d appreciate it if you’d continue Akechi-san’s tour of the school for me.”

“Tour, sir?”

Goro gives her a blinding grin, “I’m considering transferring here. My current school is being difficult regarding my schedule and workload as a detective. As I’d like to graduate, and continue working, I’m looking for options more amenable to my lifestyle.”

“I see.” She narrows her eyes in a way that screams doubt, but she can’t call him on the blatant lie here in front of Kobayakawa. Instead she matches his smile, all teeth and sarcasm, “Let’s get started.”

The moment they’re out of the office, with the door closed securely, Makoto spins on him, hands already on her hips, “Now tell me, what you’re actually doing here.”

He goes for the lie again, giving her a wide look as if to say ‘what are you talking about?’, “I told you, I’m observing the school as a potential transfer option. I’ve heard great things, and the overall caliber of student is–”

She throws up a hand, interrupting him, “It doesn’t make sense to switch in your last year.” Her interruption is refreshing. That’s something he likes about Makoto. No matter what good girl act she puts on for the rest of the world, she’s got a mean streak hiding, and he loves pulling back the cover to make it show.

“There’s obviously something else going on. Tell me, maybe I can help.”

He considers it. While she’s not on the team most impacted by Kamoshida, she is the Student Council President. She has clout with students, and might have already heard something. Still, it’s a little early to bring her into the investigation.

So he holds up a finger to his lips, winking, “I’m conducting an investigation. It’s still early, but I’ll be sure to consult you if the need arises.”

This seems to appease her somewhat, “Does my sister know about this?”

“No. I have yet to bring in either the prosecutor’s office or police. Students reached out to me about the issue, and until I have more I’d rather not complicate things.”

That gives her pause, enough that she stops in the hallway to glare at him. Her eyes flash, a theory developing about his investigation. Before she can press further, another voice cuts in.

“Akechi-sempai?”

They turn and find a first year student, hair bright red and pulled back into a ponytail that swings as she walks. She’s stepping out of an office, and heads towards them, face alight with recognition.

“Yoshizawa-san.” Goro greets, giving her a softer smile than he’d given Makoto, “I didn’t realize you attended Shujin.”

“Oh! Yes.” She perks up, “I just started on an Honors Scholarship.” Ah, so she’s the new honors student, he should have guessed.

They aren’t close. Goro knows Sumire Yoshizawa only in passing really. He’d met her and her sister through her father, and they’ve spent a little time stuck together on sets. Her there to visit with her father, Goro for shooting. There’s a lot of time between takes or news segments, and when there’s so few people in the whole building even close to the same age to talk to? You chat.

This Yoshizawa is in stark contrast to the one he’d seen recently. That girl couldn’t look Goro in the eyes, voice distant and broken, body curled in on itself like she was trying to disappear. It had been so similar to how he remembers looking the few times he’d let himself look at the mirror after his mother’s death, it had sent him reeling.

Experience tells him she shouldn’t look this good. Shouldn’t sound so normal. He doesn’t wish that kind of grief on her, but he knows better.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Makoto Nijima, the student council president.” Makoto holds out a hand for Yoshizawa to take, “If you need anything at all, Yoshizawa-san please feel free to reach out. Starting at a new school can be difficult, especially with all the expectations heaped on an honors student. I’m always happy to lend an ear if you need it.”

The other girl bows, hair swinging over her shoulder as she does so, “I’m honored, Nijima-sempai. Thank you so much!”

When she straightens, she tilts her head at Goro and asks, “Excuse me for asking, but why are you here, Akechi-sempai?”

“I’m also considering transferring to Shujin. Nijima-san has been gracious enough to give me a tour.” He tells her.

Yoshizawa clasps her hands together, face bright and delighted, “That would be wonderful, Senpai! I’d love it if someone I know also attends here. It will be such a great opportunity to get to know each other better.”

“How do you two know each other?” Makoto asks, her tone more pointed than curious.

“We met at the tv station my father owns. Akechi-senpai has been interviewed a few times there.” She turns back to him, “You have another coming up soon, right?”

He nods, “I have to send in my approval for the questions this evening.” He rubs the back of his neck, “It can be quite a lot sometimes. I’m grateful for your father’s support.”

“I think he’s taken a liking to you.” Yoshizawa says, clapping her hands together.

The false modesty got him what he’d wanted to hear, “I’m glad to hear it. I’m sorry to take up so much of your time, it has been wonderful to see you.”

“Likewise. Even if you don’t transfer to Shujin, we should talk more. Maybe I’ll see you at the interview?” Yoshizawa asks.

“Perhaps.” Is all he allows.

They have only barely started the real tour when the hallway begins to flood with students. Doors crash open, and shouts echo around the once quiet halls as students and teachers alike fly out of classrooms and down the hall.

“Did you hear? She jumped.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“What are we going to do?”

Makoto’s eyes flash and she grabs a student by the arm, yanking him back, “Who jumped? Where?”

The boy shoves a finger in the direction of the wave of students, “Some volleyball girl. Out there, by the courtyard.”

It is chaos, but both Goro and Makoto make it through the throng of students and teachers, pushing and elbowing their way to the courtyard. The noise is on the verge of being overwhelming. Goro’s stomach is clenched in a way that promises he’ll be sick if he stops to think about the girl’s actions too long.

He hasn’t worked a suicide case in his entier career as a high school detective.

He tried only one time.

“Move please. I’m on the student council.” Makoto says, trying to push through the wall of people in the courtyard. But they’re not budging, rooted to the ground as they play witness to the tragedy before them.

“Out of the way.” Goro snaps, the anger in his words clear and authoritative enough to send the students in front of them scrambling. Good. It’s obscene to stand around and watch something like this. The teachers should be doing a better job getting students back into their classrooms. Unless, the lot of them.

He ignores the sudden flare up of whispers about police and detectives as students begin to recognize him. If anything, he’ll use his fame in his favor if he needs to in order to quell the chaos a bit. For now, his focus is the girl.

He makes himself a shield to push Makoto through the crowd, along with himself until they drop into an open area, ringed by shocked students. A teacher, perhaps even a nurse, is kneeling by the fallen girl. Her hair is a different color from the one who took him to the office, which for some reason is a relief to him.

“Everyone take a few steps back.” He starts snapping orders, whirling on the crowd, “Open up a path for the paramedics to get through. Time is of the essence. You don’t want to be at fault for delaying help arriving.”

The whispers of his fame have done their work, weaving their way through enough of the crowd his words penetrate the awed spectacle of it all and has the crowd moving to follow his directions. A further explanation of his job as a detective gains him the allyship of a few teachers, and soon he’s managed to get the crowd under control.

As Goro works the crowd, he looks everywhere but the fallen girl. Guilt pools in his stomach like acid, bubbling and sharp. He’s certain he won’t sleep tonight.

His eyes catch on Kurusu and Sakamoto in the crowd. Sakamoto’s shock is clean on his face, along with outrage. Kurusu on the other hand is shattered, grief etched across his features in a way that Goro doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. Like he’s to blame for all this. Before he has time to gnaw on that particular piece of information, his attention is dragged aside again.

“Akechi, could you give us a hand?”

The next hour feels indeterminately long. He keeps busy making sure the girl, Shiho, and her friend, Ann, make it into the ambulance. He takes statements, and has to shoot down Principal Kobayakawa’s attempts at interference. Nothing will save the school’s reputation in his eyes now.

Not that it’s ever really mattered. The investigation is his main goal, and he hates how things have turned out so far. Goro might be willing to do a good many things that paint him as irredeemable, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see an innocent girl pushed to her limit like this by someone like Kamoshida.

The temptation to pull out his phone and use it to take him to the Metaverse where he can put a bullet between the eyes of Kamoshida’s Shadow is all too strong. The man deserves worse than that. Goro wants to take him apart piece by piece and listen to his screams as he begs for mercy. He can feel Loki humm at the thought, agreeing wholeheartedly.

He realizes he’s got his phone in his palm, as he turns it over and over, the device slipping easily against the smooth leather of his glove. It makes a little swishing noise as it moves. He wants to leave it face up, to wake up the screen and tap the MetaNav, the others had told him the keywords already, all he has to do is enter them.

He can feel Loki agreeing with the sentiment, buzzing and burning with the need to destroy. To step into Kamoshida’s life and turn it upside down.

A message buzzes through, stopping him from making any rash decisions.

Kurusu: Meet us in the courtyard by the vending machines.

Goro: On my way.

When he finds Kurusu and Sakamoto, the blond is pacing between a bench and vending machine, steps so loud Goro can hear them at a distance. He can hear the swearing whirlwind Sakamoto is whipping up as well. The boy has some truly creative expletives.

Sakamoto storms over to him the moment Goro’s close enough to be noticed, “We have to do something now!” He looks about a second away from shoving Goro, “I can’t let that monster hurt anyone else.”

Goro holds his hands out, trying to placate him, “Calm down.”

Sakamoto spins and slams his fist into one of the poles by them, metal ringing out with a hollow echo, “Ain’t no way I’m gonna calm down! If we had any doubts about going and changing his heart they’re all gone now. You get that right?”

“I do.” He says it as soothing as possible, tone gentle, understanding, “However, you agreed I could investigate him first.”

“And you spent all day doing that right? That’s why you were wandering around campus?” He drops his hand, and steps back towards Goro, “Well? Did you come up with anything concrete to nail that bastard?”

Goro’s lips press into a hard line, he knows what he’s about to say isn’t going to go over well.

“These things take time. I started—”

Sakamoto explodes, “We don’t have time for that! That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time! He’s hurting people, Akechi. Are you so heartless you’ll let that happen?!”

“You are very much wrong if you believe I do not care about his victims.” Goro’s voice has dropped to something dangerously quiet, “I did not become a detective for the fame. I did it to stop men like him from abusing their power and hurting more people. Imply I do not care again, Sakamoto and I will prove to you just how much I do.”

The other boy takes a few involuntary steps back, swallowing, “Sorry, dude. I know you do, you wouldn’t be tryin’ to help us if not. I’m just—” His face is red, hands balled into fists by his side, shaking, “We couldn’t do anything! Feeling so powerless effin’ sucks, especially when we have the power we need to force that scumbag to admit to all his crimes!”

Throughout their exchange, Kurusu has been surprisingly quiet. Goro turns his attention on the other boy, examining him with a close eye. He looks lost, gaze distant, somewhere far beyond them, the courtyard, and probably even the present.

“Kurusu?” Goro asks, “I understand what happened was shocking. If you need a moment—”

Even Sakamoto seems to pick up on Kurusu’s mood now, but has a different answer for it, “I think he’s also shocked about Kamoshida’s threat earlier.”

“What?” Goro snaps.

The other boy swallows, “Akira and I went to confront Kamoshida about what happened.”

Goro wants to throttle him, “A decidedly stupid idea.”

Sakamoto ignores his bottled fury, plowing forward with the explanation, “Us and Mishima. He’s on the volleyball team. Said Kamoshida called Shiho to his office this morning. Apparently she came out lookin’ white as a ghost.”

Goro can only imagine what kind of conversation might have taken place to drive the girl to attempt what she did today. He desperately wishes it had only stayed a conversation.

“That asshole all but confessed to abusing her and the others when we confronted him about it. Only we don’t have any proof so the creep decided to report us for assault at the next board meeting to get us all expelled. Akira here is on parole, if he’s expelled for something like that? That’s it for him.”

Parole? Goro takes that bit of information and tucks it away. It’ll make searching Kurusu’s history all the easier for him when he finally carves out a single second to actually do the thing. It makes a strange sort of sense, considering the sudden transfer and Kurusu’s caginess around it all.

Through the explanation, Kurusu hasn’t moved at all. Goro’s kept half an eye on him, even while fuming over the idiotic decision to confront Kamoshida. Looking a little closer now, it’s not shock on his face, but fury. Burning behind those gray eyes, a flame that won’t be snuffed.

Kurusu moves at last, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw in a way that promises a fight if Goro dares argue even a moment, “I’m sorry Akechi, but we’re going to change Kamoshida’s heart.”

His tone isn’t sorry at all. It’s everything Goro has seen on his face and more. There’s no changing the resolve that has settled over the other boy, or his own need to see justice met at his own hands. Goro can understand that. He wishes he can change his mind, stop them all going down this path. Doing this will make things harder in the long run.

But he can’t say he’s not looking forward to facing Kamoshida’s Shadow and carving into him with his own two hands.

“I understand.” Goro nods, and Kurusu looks shocked, eyes going wide like he was ready to fight Goro tooth and nail on this.

Kurusu’s face relaxes into something thankful, “Good. Good, let’s go.”

“Tomorrow.” Goro insists, “You’re exhausted and emotional. Going in like this will only cause problems.”

Kurusu opens his mouth to argue and closes it again with a sigh, “Okay, tomorrow then.”

But he doesn’t have time to linger on it, Sakamoto and Morgana are already discussing a meeting time and location for the next day and Goro steps in to indicate that he should be able to meet at the school again.

Then, after they’ve settled on a time and place to meet. After he’s lingered long enough to make sure Kurusu actually leaves for home. After he tells the principal he’ll be back for a further investigation. That’s when Goro goes home.

That’s when he falls apart.

The shaking starts in his hands as he closes the door to the apartment. Fingers slipping on the lock as he attempts to turn it. It’s moved to his shoulders and back by the time he makes it through the living area towards his bedroom, and the attached bathroom.

By the time he reaches the bathroom his whole body is shaking.

He shakes and shudders as he drops to his knees and retches directly into the toilet. It’s mostly bial that comes up. He hasn’t had anything to eat today beyond an apple snatched at the station on his way to the school. He forgot a proper breakfast, and hasn’t been hungry since Shiho —that’s her name, that’s who he saw today collapsed on the ground, barely breathing— since she jumped. He’d hardly had any time to help her.

The retching doesn’t stop even after his stomach has emptied itself. Goro can’t stop it. Every time he thinks he’s done, he can’t help but see her again. Her dark hair, body crumpled, unmoving. It’s the girl until it stops being her.

It’s her until it’s his mother.

He flinches away from the shower curtain hanging beside him. Behind it, he knows what he’ll find. Tub full, water a murky pink as his mother —his mother— he retches again, chest heaving, stomach trying to turn itself inside out as he dry heaves, over and over and over again. His throat is raw. Tears stream from his eyes from the effort of it all.

At last, his stomach stills long enough for him to sit up a bit. As he does so he watches a tear slip from his eyes to hit the edge of the toilet, leaving a shining drop on the porcelain. Sweat beads at his forehead, and his chest hurts so bad he feels like he’s broken a rib, or pulled something. Blindly he reaches for the toilet paper and rips off a wad, rubbing first at his eyes and then his mouth.

He balls it up in his fist and leans back against the wall, chest heaving. Goro drags his knees up to his chest, and lets his head drop between them as sobs rattle his chest.

#goro akechi #persona 5 royal #persona 5 #akira kurusu #i need a fic tag #as dreamers do

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star--joy · 1 year

Text

5 TIMES PEOPLE THOUGHT PERCY AND VEX WERE DATING…

And the one time they decided to prove them right.

Chapter Six: +1

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1665

Originally posted: 7/23/23

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43509219/chapters/123095971

“Have you noticed,” Vex begins, with the kind of hesitant tone that tells Percy she’s about to bring up something serious. He immediately looks up from the book he was skimming, giving her his full attention, though she’s still idly scrolling through her phone.

When she doesn’t continue for a few seconds, he prompts, “Have I noticed what?”

The bobbing of her throat tells Percy that she’s swallowed several times before looking up from her phone to meet his gaze. They’re on opposite ends of the sofa in her dorm, and it occurs to both of them that that’s a bit unusual. Most of the time, they settle in side-by-side. “People keep assuming that we’re together.”

Percy tries to keep himself neutral, but he’s not sure works so well if Vex’s raised eyebrow is any indication. “I… have.”

They lapse into silence once more, but where they would normally settle easily into the comfortable, quiet atmosphere provided by each other, neither of them seem very relaxed.

“Does it bother you? When they think that?” Vex asks.

“Ah— I suppose not. It’s not like they mean any harm by it,” is what he says.

I don’t mind it as much as I should mind it, and I’m afraid that makes me a horrible, selfish person, is what he doesn’t say.

Vex fully sets aside her phone, eyebrows knitting together as she stares at him. “Right.”

“Do you mind it?” Percy asks. She doesn’t answer right away, and his heart deflates pathetically. Of course she minds it. Vex is far out of his league, and the fact that people would think she would settle for him is rather insulting. “I’m— I’m terribly sorry, I never meant to give anyone the impression that—”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Vex insists, lips pressing together. There are lines of deep thought etched into her face, and Percy wants nothing more than to soothe them out, but it really isn’t his place. “I don’t mind it either, really.”

Softly, he sets his book aside, turning so he’s properly angled towards her. “You don’t have to lie. I know I’m hardly the kind of person you would want to be with.”

His words make her scoff, catching him off guard. “You don’t get to decide who I would want to be with,” she mutters, defensive walls visibly rising in the shape of her posture.

“I didn’t mean that. I simply— you could do far better than me, Vex’ahlia.” Her full name rolls of his tongue like it belongs on his lips, each syllable enunciated with an emotion he doesn’t dare name.

“For someone so smart, you’re really fucking stupid, sometimes. Anyone would be lucky to have you, Percy, do you not see that?”

His alert rises at a rapid pace when he notices the strained tightness to her voice, like a rubber band about to snap. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he rushes to say, even though he’s not sure what he did to cause this distress.

Vex’s jaw flexes. When she speaks, her words are fiercely passionate. “I know you have your flaws, Percy, but you make me happy. And you make Keyleth happy. And Tary and Pike and Vax and— I don’t even know what I’m trying to say,” she breaks off, turning to stare away from him. “Just— you’re wonderful. You’re passionate and creative and the biggest damn nerd I’ve ever met.”

Percy wants, selfishly, to… to do something. He’s not even sure what, but he knows it involves Vex and being honest with his feelings. It’s as if there’s a string between them, pulling him closer, and it takes all his willpower to resist. “You always see the good in me.”

“There’s a lot of it to see,” she insists, turning back towards him. Something like determination is written in the harsh set to her face. “And I would like to see more. If you’ll let me.”

“I’m an open book, to you. You already know everything about me.”

Something possesses her, then, and Percy wonders if he’s somehow fallen into a trap as Vex smirks, sliding across the couch towards him. “Actually, I don’t know everything,” she murmurs, low and raspy.

He laughs, a little nervous. She’s hovering over him now and they’ve been close before, of course, but this feels different in a way he can’t describe. “What do you mean?”

And then her hands are cupping his face. Percy blinks, trying to sort through the thoughts in his brain that have suddenly become very unimportant in comparison to how close she’s gotten. Every one of his senses can’t fathom anything but her. He wants… He wants…

He just wants.

“I don’t know how good you are at kissing me,” Vex whispers, looking directly into his eyes, centimeters from his face.

Percy can’t help it: he looks down to her lips, breath trapped in his lungs. This close, he can smell her, woodsy with a hint of cinnamon sugar, and fuck it. He just barely musters the wherewithal to whisper, “May I?”

Her answer consists of her lunging forward so their lips connect. If Percy had known that this would be happening today, he would have brought chapstick, but that’s a distant thought. There are far more important things to be focusing on, he decides, hands blindly reaching to pull Vex in. It’s hard to find the right angle, with his eyes closed and movements clumsy, but eventually his left hand rests on her waist and his right hand cups the back of her neck.

She settles into him so perfectly once they find their footing, fingers exploring his stubble covered jaw in a way that makes him want to purr, despite not having the anatomy of a cat.

“Vex’ahlia,” he says, not bothering to pull away as he whispers it against her lips.

“Percy,” she responds, one hand leaving his jaw so she can clutch the collar of his button-up, neither of them giving a single shit about the wrinkles she’s leaving behind.

When Vex eventually pulls back, even slightly, Percy can’t help the way he tries to chase her. He hasn’t gotten his fill of this, yet. He probably won’t ever get enough. He needs to spend the rest of time kissing her, or he might just keel over and perish.

“We have all the time in the world, darling,” she assures him, and Percy wouldn’t even be surprised if he found out she actually could read his mind. He wouldn’t care much, either, despite the scientific implications.

The world could come crashing down around them, and he doubts he’d even notice.

“That— I, ah— You are very good at that,” he whispers, head still spinning too much to form a much better compliment.

Vex laughs. “You’re not bad, yourself. Though, it’s hard to really tell how talented someone is from just one kiss. I think I’ll need a few more before I make a final decision.”

That’s all the warning Percy gets before she’s surging up once more, pressing him back against the armrest of the couch. He goes easily, allows her anything and everything she wants. God, he’d allow her to tear the heart from his living body if it only it meant he got to stay here with her, like this, for the rest of time.

He tries to tell her as much, but she won’t let him up for air, much less to speak, so all that escapes him is a series of muffled, incoherent noises. It’s probably for the best— Percy can’t think of a better use for his mouth right now than kissing Vex.

And then the door to the room slams open. “Come help me put away grocer— oh, Jesus fucking Christ,” Vax announces. “On our goddamn couch?!”

Vex pulls away to glance at her brother, far too coherently, given how she’s still basically draped over Percy. She’s a little out of breath and a flush covers her skin, but her tone is clear when she asks, “You finished shopping already?”

“Yes, now come help me put it away. You too, Freddie.”

“Yuh,” Percy mumbles, head falling back against the armrest as he tries to think once more. The change of atmosphere has thrown him for a complete loop, and a large part of him is insisting that he ignore Vax’s presence and just keep kissing Vex. He manages to restrain himself.

Vax groans. “God, you’re disgusting, the both of you. Come on, the ice-cream is melting.”

“Mmph.”

“Jesus, Vex, look at what you’ve done. You broke Percy.”

Vex laughs, and that, at least, cuts through his foggy brain. It’s a lovely sound. “I didn’t break. I ascended. I’m on the next level of humanity. It’s quite nice,” he hums, watching as Vex climbs off him and stretches her muscles.

“Well, the sooner you finish helping me, the sooner you can get back to your little make-out session.” Vax’s nose wrinkles with disgust as he speaks. “But no more snogging on the couch. That’s off-limits. Take it to your room. And don’t be loud enough for me to hear you.”

Vex tugs Percy up. “You heard him, Love.” The nickname almost cuts through all of his composure once more.

“Alright, alright,” Percy huffs. “I can handle groceries. I think.”

Vax throws a loaf of bread at him that he barely manages to catch before it nails him in the face. “Good. Oh, and don’t forget to update all those people who thought you were together that the two of you finally got over yourselves and realised you’re hopelessly in love. I’m sure that won’t be awkward at all.”

Percy and Vex groan in sync as Vax giggles. They have a lot of explaining to do, that much is correct. And it’s going to be horribly awkward, yes.

But, they decide as they glance at each other, relenting to one final peck on the lips before helping Vax, some things are worth a little awkwardness.

#percy de rolo #vex #vex'ahlia #critical role #perc'ahlia #bad news bears #vexahlia #percahlia #percival de rolo #tlovm #the legend of vox machina #vox machina #lovm #crit role

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infinitethree · 27 days

Text

It doesn’t take long for Daz to clock that Aster is acting weird in a way that doesn’t fit with just seeing his past.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long to have an opportunity to corner him.

He does so very literally, too– Aster having gone to grab food in the little kitchen in the Council HQ.

Daz gets in his space to set him on edge. “What new secrets are you hiding, asshole?”

Aster blanches, pressing himself back against the counter behind him. “Uh– nothing. It’s– it doesn’t–”

Eyes thinning, Daz steps closer and braces his arms on either side of the bastard. “You owe me a bigger debt than you can even dream of repaying, so talk.”

A strangled noise escapes Aster. “Don’t do that, it’s–”

…Wait a fucking second. Is he blushing?

Blushing and not looking at him, cowering as far away from Daz as he can possibly get–

Disgusted, he laughs, “Sweeting fuckin’ Prime, did you get a crush on me? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Offense sweeps across Aster’s face. “No! I mean, not–”

Suddenly, his expression shifts to something resigned and dismayed. “...So, uh. I’m not– not just seeing your past.”

“...Who else are you seeing? And what the fuck does that matter now?” “Uhm, still– still just you. It’s, uh…more like–”

A nervous laugh escapes Aster. “More like the future?”

Of all the answers he could have expected, that was not one of them. “...Excuse me?”

Now Aster rambles, “It’s– I mean, honestly, you seem pretty happy? Uh, so do I, and the thing is that I don’t know that much so maybe we shouldn’t talk about it–”

“Aster.”

With a defeated slump to his shoulders, Aster admits, “We get married.”

He waits for some indication that Aster is lying or fucking with him.

None comes.

Disbelieving, he says, “...You’re serious. You actually–”

Aster swallows and says, “I, uh– you were serious about it. Very serious. We were dancing at one of the Christmas parties and it was…we had netherite earcuffs and matching suits. You made them, apparently. And…and they were, uh– they were…based on me.”

Wow, he didn’t know Aster’s face could get that red, he distantly notes, as he struggles to conceive of that kind of world.

Continuing, Aster quietly tells him, “You looked at my soul, somehow. And you made us suits based on that. I…I think hearing that made me happy.”

His breath catches. Something that intimate, being on full display– a powerful, potent symbol of claiming.

He knows he would never do something like that without being sure that it was actually wanted.

“You…you told me, uhm. That you loved me. To the, uh– the point of madness and ruin. That I– that I was everything to you. That…that your deepest wish was to die of old age in our sleep together. It was–” A weak laugh escapes Aster, who admits, “I don’t exactly…know anything about that? Like, uh, romance or– or whatever. But it, uh– it was a bit…”

Daz realizes he’s still got Aster pinned against the counter. Logically, he should move away and put as much space as possible between them.

On the other…

Aster is uneasy and flustered, being made to recount this. He’s feeling something, and it’s not an emotion this bastard knows how to handle.

In other words, Daz can use this to torment him.

“A bit what?”

Instead of answering, Aster’s gaze skitters even further away. “Nothing. I– nevermind.”

Because he’s not stupid, he has a decent idea of what Aster meant. “You were charmed by it, weren’t you? That’s funny. Almost cute, even.”

Annoyance flashes across Aster’s face. “I know you’re just being an asshole.”

Daz’s tone is deceptively light as he asks, “Are you going to argue I don’t deserve to be angry? To want revenge?”

“...No. I– I’d be pissed, too.”

He hums. So he’s not completely stupid, then– good to know.

“So you can learn! What a good boy you are,” he mocks.

He does not expect Aster to turn completely scarlet and make a pathetic noise.

Ooh, what’d he learn? What– does Innit have an investment in this melodrama?

I’m bored and he fucked me over, too. I want to see him suffer. This…and only this? I might actually work with you on. Maybe.

What a messed up scenario– that this is the one thing they can join hands on.

Cooing, he uses two fingers to forcibly tilt Aster’s chin back towards him. “Now, now, don’t be so shy. Share with the class, hmm? What could you have seen that got you so flustered?”

“I– I don’t want to talk about it,” Aster croaks.

Chuckling softly, Daz murmurs, “You know that won’t work with me.” “You probably don’t want to hear about it, either!” “Oh, but see– I don’t care if I’m dealt psychic damage, too. The thing I care about is completely humiliating you.”

There’s a visible resignation in Aster’s posture and voice. “I…we aren’t, uh. It’s– we do all the. Married stuff. So it's not just…romantic. It's– physical, too.”

Oh, that’s weird as hell. The idea of sex is kind of just…unappealing? And on top of that, with Aster of all people…blehg.

Whatever; he can still use this.

“No wonder you're so flustered. Me so close– am I making you think about it even more? How curious you are if it's as good as it looked…” his purr of a tone drops into something hopefully seductive.

“If being mine is really as incredible as it seemed.”

Aster turns scarlet, gaze darting away again. “Oh, don't be so shy! It's adorable, watching you grapple with the fact that I take very good care of those I get attached to.”

He laughs and forces himself to focus on his amusement rather than the way he feels vaguely ill at the idea of tying himself to Aster.

His hand slides down to wrap around one bicep and squeeze. “If you really want to know…grovel like a dog. Earn my forgiveness. Humiliate yourself for my enjoyment until you can crawl back into my good graces.”

Tone light but menacing, he warns, “Otherwise…I'll sever that future with my own two hands.”

Aster shivers, and it’s hard to tell what his dominant emotion currently is.

“Only then will I let you convince me you're worth my devotion. Assuming you aren't a coward and back down, of course. But…maybe you are, hmm? Maybe you're just too weak to even try and win me over.”

Then he opens his console and goes back home.

Really, he just wants to humiliate him and eat up his time. The less he can focus on Daz's past, the better.

He has no intention of ever accepting Aster like that. The bastard will be lucky to earn any sort of forgiveness, let alone love.

#chronotag #dazzlingvoid #shiningaster #innerinnit #NORMAL AND REASONABLE RESPONSE OFC #poor Aster lmaooo #He's Gonna Have A Bad Time

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angsty-violet · 9 months

Text

Chapter 1 - Kneel

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Pete wandered Kneel, his favorite kink club, checking each person's wristbands as he went. He had seen a few doms, but they seemed to be vastly outnumbered so far. That wasn't unusual. Most nights, the doms were outnumbered two to one. He had also seen a few switches, but they were even more unusual.

None of them had even held a second glance. He was looking for something very specific. He was so specific he wasn't entirely sure what he was after. However, he would know it when he saw it, and so far, he hadn't seen it.

He saw a blue wristband with a black stripe, indicating that the person was a dom and was looking. Pete figured he had nothing to lose at this point. If they didn't get along, he would just crawl back to his room and hope he could hold up for a while longer. He didn't get many days off, and this part of his routine was necessary for him to keep doing his job to the best of his abilities.

With his best smile, he slid up to a tight, toned body, about the same height but slimmer than him. God, he hoped this worked out because this guy was hot as hell, and Pete was just dying for it.

"Hi there handsome, my name is…," Pete's voice died out as he got a good look at the dom. A familiar set of cheekbones and eyes greeted him.

“Khun Vegas,” Pete said.

Vegas tilted his head to look at Pete's wristband and smiled. Pete's heart began to pound. His not-so-secret crush on Vegas was a point of constant teasing from the other guards. There had been a lot of encouragement from them as well. However, Pete hadn't made a move on Vegas.

For one thing, he was one of Pete's bosses. Pete didn't want to risk losing the job that was making his grandmother very comfortable. Not wealthy, but enough so she no longer had to clean houses. So, he didn't want to lose his job.

For another, the thing that Pete really needed out of romantic relationships was to be taken into subspace. He needed to be made to submit and serve to be able to do those things in his day-to-day life. Without that, he was lost. Which is why he came to Kneel so often. Every day off he could, Pete was here, looking for a dom strong enough to manage him. Often while thinking about Vegas in whoever's place.

"Pete, I didn't know you came to Kneel." There was a flirty edge to Vegas' voice, and Pete caught the double entendre.

Pete smiled shyly. Maybe his crush wasn't completely unrequited. His smile dropped when he saw Vegas' wide pupils and unfocused gaze. Kneel didn't offer any alcohol. It was part of their safety policies. He reached over and checked both eyes. Frowning at what he saw. They should have contracted a little when he tugged on the lids, but they hadn't.

"Vegas, have you been drinking?" Maybe he had imbibed before he came.

"No, don't serve alcohol here. Not good if you scene." His words were distinctly slurred.

"Alright, you've been dosed with something. Come on, let's get out of here."

"I have?"

"Yeah, honey, come here."

"Going to take me home, handsome?"

Pete snorted, feeling hysterical. "Stop that. Let's go."

Pete was panicking. He didn't know if the family knew Vegas was kinky, but he wasn't willing to out Vegas. He couldn't take him back to the family home. He couldn't leave him here while drugged and defenseless.

Well, there was only one choice.

Vegas didn't know where the fuck he was.

He was lying on a bed, still wearing the clothes he had dressed in to go to Kneel. However, he didn't recognize the bed or the room.

His dry mouth and pounding head told him he had been drugged. But when he did a check, it didn't look like anything had been done to him. He hadn't been tortured or raped.

The door opened, and a familiar face peeked in. Once Pete saw that Vegas was awake, he entered the room. He attempted a small wai, but it was hindered by the tray of food and drink.

"Pete," Vegas growled. "Where the fuck am I, and why the fuck am I here?"

Pete stopped a few steps from the bed and set the tray on a table. He held his hands up and didn't step any closer.

"We met up at Kneel last time. You were slurring your words, and your pupils weren't contracting properly. I'm unsure if the family knows you go to places like that, so I didn't want to take you home. But I was worried about what would happen to you if I left you there."

Vegas inspected Pete's face for veracity and then nodded at what he found there. He chewed his lip and gestured for the bottle of water.

Vegas had checked his phone and shot off a couple of texts. One to his upcoming business contact that he wouldn't make the meeting, and one to Kinn to make sure the man didn't send a search party after him. Then, assured they wouldn't be interrupted, he and Pete had gone out to breakfast.

"I want to thank you for taking care of me."

Pete shrugged and ducked behind his bangs. He didn't want Vegas to know how that made him feel. To know that Vegas thought he had done a good job was, well, it warmed him. "I was just doing my job."

"Saving me? Sure, but taking me to a hotel so my family doesn't find out I'm kinky? That's above and beyond. Just so you know, Kinn knows I go to clubs; he was actually the first person to take me to one. However, the rest of the family doesn't know. It's…complicated."

Pete nodded in agreement. He completely understood. No one in his life knew that he needed to be taken down in order to feel like he was once again a human. There was hardly anyone that even knew he was gay.

"I'm glad I could be there for you, Khun Vegas."

Vegas raised an eyebrow. "What's with this Khun business? I've known you for over a year, and you just stopped me from possibly being raped. Although, I'm not certain what someone would do with a drugged dom."

"You'd be surprised. There are a lot of drugs and a lot of things that can be done, even to the dominant in the dynamic. You weren't incapacitated; you were just easy to convince and very flirty. Combined with the numbers last night, I'd say your culprit was somebody looking for a hard scene, maybe even with some of your limits, that you turned down."

Vegas' face shifted into thought. "I can't remember very much. I barely remember getting to the club. It must be pretty strong to have affected me that way. Shame, I would have liked to see you dressed up under those lights."

Pete's cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head shyly.

"I bet you go down beautifully. I bet that you are exquisite in your submission."

Pete ducked even further. He couldn't believe this was happening. The gorgeous, suave, apparently dominant Vegas Theerapanyakun was flirting with him, of all people.

"I know this isn't the best start, but I'd like to get to know you more. Is there any way that I can see you again? I want to get to know you better, Pete."

Despite the extraordinary effort it took, Pete lifted his head and looked Vegas in the eyes. He expected there to be a twinkle of amusement and a teasing edge, but there wasn't. Instead, there was an unexpected shyness, and Pete was confronted with the reality of him being only 18. Sometimes, Pete forgot that he was four years older than Vegas and that the changes between those ages were massive. This boy really was still just a boy. Technically an adult in the ways that mattered, but still a baby. Pete's baby dom. The thought of some other sub teaching Vegas the intricacies of a d/s relationship soured his stomach.

"I'd really like that."

Kinn paced his office. Vegas had said he'd be home in a few minutes, but Kinn could barely restrain himself from running down and meeting him at the door. When the door opened, and Vegas entered, he was still wearing the clothes Kinn had seen him slip out the door the night before. Kinn frowned. That usually meant he had spent the night with someone. He did not always have sex; sometimes, it was just a straight non-sexual scene he had gotten really into.

"Did you cancel a meeting and make me worry because you were getting frisky?" Kinn's temper was starting to rise. He was working his way into being angry when Vegas hugged him gently. Kinn felt the thin arms wrap around him to his chest.

Kinn got very worried. Vegas rarely initiated physical contact. He didn't mind accepting it, but it was still just too awkward for him.

"V?"

Vegas just shook his head and buried his face in Kinn's chest. Vegas hadn't wanted to show it to Pete, but this had scared him.

"Tell me what's wrong, and I'll fix it, nong."

"I went to Kneel last night and ran into someone we know. When I started flirting, he immediately noticed that someone had drugged me with something."

If someone had touched his little brother while he was drugged, Kinn was going to kill them!

"Calm down, hia. He just took me to a hotel and put me in a bed. He didn't touch me; everything was fine."

Kinn smoothed a palm across Vegas' cheek, reading between the lines. "But it almost wasn't. Someone took care of you, but if he hadn't, you might have been hurt."

Vegas nodded and cuddled closer.

"So, who was it? So, I can give them a reward."

Vegas shook his head. "It's private. I might tell you when I'm ready, but not right now."

Kinn sighed internally but didn't push. Vegas would tell him when he was ready. More curiously, he said it was private.

"Alright, as long as you're okay. I don't want you going back there for a while."

"Hia!"

"That's final. I'm not going to risk you just because you're horny. If you go against me, there will be consequences. You're not too old to ground. You can spend a week or two on house arrest if you like."

Vegas pouted a little but didn't argue. "Fine, I'll leave off going to Kneel for a while."

"Good. Now, you need to change. We have a meeting in a half hour."

Since Kinn had banned him from going to Kneel for a while, Vegas had settled on one of his favorite restaurants. It was a hole-in-the-wall place with only half a dozen small tables or so crammed into the room that passed for a dining room.

Pete had looked both surprised and delighted when he realized they weren't going somewhere expensive.

"I was worried you'd take me someplace with a menu that costs more than my whole paycheck."

Vegas smirked. "Don't worry, I will. But I thought we should go someplace a little more low-key for our first time. That way, I know if you're worth shelling out for."

Pete looked surprised and then caught on that he was teasing. "You are such a smooth guy."

Vegas shrugged. "Not really, I practiced that one. I just really like the food in this place, and I didn't know if you liked other ethnicities of food."

Pete smiled. "Good bet because I don't like Western food."

"Noted. So, tell me about yourself."

Pete snorted lightly. "Like you haven't already read my file."

"I have, but all it gives are cold facts and nothing more. I want to know the real you. Why you became a fighter? Why you came to work for the family, everything."

"Well, I'm from a very small village in the south...."

#kinnporche the series #kinnporsche #vegaspete

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little-mouse-adventures · 1 year

Note

4 headcanons meme for Butler!! :D

okay so this is literally from a month ago and i do not remember what the actual prompt thingy was BUT i know one of them was like... a sad headcanon or something, which my brain took as "hey how does Butler react when Juliet has to kill someone for the first time" and now here we are, a month later, with nearly 3k words about that. so that was fun.

“…east wing has a staff corridor that we can –” The Major cut off his description of the best exit route should things at Mr. Fowl’s upcoming meeting go sideways as the intercom sounded. He glanced towards it, and then at his nephew, who gave a slight nod and moved to answer the ringing phone.

Artemis the First was asking just how crammed the staff corridor would be when Butler stepped back into the room.

“Excuse me. May I be dismissed for a few minutes, sir?”

“Whatever for?” Major Butler asked. “Deliveries ‘round the back, everyone else can be seen into the sitting room by the maid.”

“It’s… Juliet’s back. The taxi’s coming up the drive now.”

“Juliet? I had thought we weren’t expecting her for another three weeks,” Artemis the Second chimed in.

“Yes, she’s returning early.” Butler answered his employer but kept his eyes on his uncle’s. There were precious few reasons Madam Ko would allow an acolyte to return early from the Academy. None of them were pleasant.

“Of course, you can go. In fact, I think a break would be good for all of us.” Artemis Senior said. “We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s go say hello to Juliet, and then I think it’s about time for tea.”

The Fowl patriarch stood up from his custom-made leather chair at the head of the table, giving no one a chance to argue with him. He passed his arm over his son’s shoulders and spoke to him quietly about the behaviour he expected of him at the meeting as they walked down the stairs towards the front door, sandwiched between Butler in front of them and Major taking up the rear.

Butler tried not to hurry. If Juliet was seriously injured, Madam Ko would have called ahead. Still, though, something must be wrong with his baby sister, and worry coiled through his stomach like a snake.

Watching her step out of the taxi, though, nothing seemed immediately wrong. No limp, no casts or slings, no telltale hunching that would indicate broken ribs or damaged internal organs. A concussion was unlikely to be reason enough to send her home, which really limited the possibilities for why –

When she turned around, bag slung over her shoulder, Butler took one look in her eyes and knew immediately why she’d been given early leave. He saw her catch sight of the two Fowls standing between him and their uncle, and she made a valiant effort to put on the professional mask Blue Diamond bodyguards wore unthinkingly.

“Hello,” she said, and managed a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Sir, permission to take the rest of the day off,” Butler requested.

Artemis Junior started. “A few minutes to say hello, certainly Butler, but the rest of the afternoon? What about Mother’s request for dinner at Bozzini’s later?”

“Granted. Tomorrow, too. Unless…Major, any objections?”

“None, sir.”

“Father, what – “

“Not now, Artemis. Welcome back, Juliet. Take all the time you need to get settled.”

Artemis Junior was even more shocked at his father’s tone than his bodyguard’s request. He couldn’t recall Father using that kind of gentleness used except when speaking with Mother.

“Thank you, sir,” Juliet’s voice was barely above a whisper. Her brother moved forward and draped his arm across her back. She managed another smile, slightly stronger this time, for her uncle, who nodded and lightly squeezed her shoulder as Butler led her through the entryway.

Artemis Junior was thoroughly puzzled. And slightly irritated. At nine, he knew better than to ask what was going on after being told not to by his father, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was the only person in the group didn’t know something. He didn’t like the feeling.

Everyone else was deeply grateful the young boy hadn’t yet seen first-hand what someone looked like after having committed their first murder.

~~~~

Butler led Juliet down the hall to the wing of the Manor set aside for the Butlers in residence and their families. He didn’t offer to take her bag. He knew how prideful she was at being able to handle things on her own, and how much it mattered to maintain the feeling of control after taking a life. He could feel her slight trembling and opted to guide her into his own room, rather than hers.

“Do you want a shower?” he asked.

Juliet shook her head.

Usually, when she returned from the Academy, she was nearly bouncing off the walls, and chattered endlessly. Now, though, she just stood in the middle of the room, silent, still, looking as lost as she had when she was four and told her parents wouldn’t be coming back.

Butler helped her guide the heavy field kit off her shoulder and put it beside his own bag near the door. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Juliet shook her head again. Then she turned to look at him, and he saw the tears well up in her eyes.

Butler wrapped his arms around her tightly with a deep sigh. “C’mere, baby sister,” he murmured.

She broke against him, leaning into his chest and throwing her own arms around his waist, holding on like his presence was the only thing keeping her from falling completely apart. Sobs tore out of her throat. Butler felt her knees buckle and caught her weight easily.

“Alright. Alright now. I’ve got you,” he said into her hair. “I’ve got you now. You’re alright. Everything’s alright.” Butler continued to speak quietly, offering gentle reassurance, as he carried his little sister to the bed. He settled her on his lap and tucked her head under his chin, like she was seven years old again and waking up from a nightmare.

They sat like that for some time, Juliet’s tears soaking her brother’s shirt, her sobs nearly drowning out the lullaby he was humming as he rocked them both back and forth. Eventually, exhausted, Juliet’s uncontrolled keening settled into shaking breaths and hiccups. She didn’t let go of her brother.

Butler leaned back slightly to look at his sister. He pushed some of her hair off her forehead before reaching for a tissue from the box on his bedside table and holding it to her nose. “Blow,” he ordered.

“I’ll get you all snotty,” Juliet argued.

“Bit late for that,” Butler countered, which coaxed a watery smile out of Juliet. She blew her nose noisily and reached for the tissue to wipe her face. Butler snatched it away and wordlessly handed her another.

Neither spoke. Butler knew how this went. He’d gone through it himself. He’d helped younger acolytes through it, and even some young colleagues after he’d graduated. It was a natural and expected consequence of their career. That didn’t stop his heart from breaking for his baby sister.

She leaned against him again, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder. Butler could feel the dampness of fresh tears against his neck as she turned her face into him. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around her as she quietly cried.

Eventually, the hand she’d fisted in his shirt tightened and she took a deep, shuddering breath. “I… I just… grabbed him, his head, from behind, after Tony shot his leg, and I just…” Juliet stuttered. The tears and memories made her gasp. “I just twisted… and he… I could feel him… just…”

“Alright, easy now. Easy,” Butler said.

“He just died! He just fell! One second, he was alive, and had a gun, and I was behind him, and then he was just… just dead!” She couldn’t seem to stop crying. Her throat was raw, her nose stuffed, her eyes sore. And still she couldn’t stop the tears. It was all she could do breathlessly cling to the solid weight of her brother while the scene played out again and again in her mind.

Butler pressed his cheek to her hair and squeezed her tightly. “I’m sorry,” he told her, knowing it was inadequate, but all he had. “That’s a hard thing to process. Especially for your first time.”

“Have you ever…”

“Yes.”

Juliet nodded silently and pressed herself closer against Butler, desperate for the support he offered. He took the chance to shift their positions slightly, so he was leaning against the headboard instead of sitting at the edge of his bed. Juliet shuffled off his lap when he did but curled up against his side, not willing to relinquish the comforting weight of his arm. Butler tucked a strand of Juliet’s hair behind her ear, and when she leaned into the touch, started lightly stroking his hand down her braid.

Thoughts and emotions swirled about in Juliet’s mind. Slowly, the tumult died down. The quiet, steady rhythm of her brother’s breath and heartbeat and hand gave her something to focus on, to use as a backdrop of consistency to settle the maelstrom of emotions.

“When you… the first time you…” Juliet paused. Questions sat heavy on her mind, the words on the tip of her tongue. It was indescribably hard to face what she’d done. She was, and forever would be, a different person now than she had been before. But different didn’t mean wrong. Her family was proof of that. Still, she needed the confirmation that she wasn’t alone in this. She took a deep breath and tried again. “The first time you killed someone. What was it like?”

She felt more than heard her brother’s sigh. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke.

“We were ambushed, and my squad leader took a bullet in the arm trying to shield our Principal. It made him drop his gun. The enemy still had his, was still aiming at us. I picked up the gun. Fired. He took it in the chest.” Butler’s voice got quiet. “I remember how focussed I was on him. Not while I shot. But after. It wasn’t an immediately fatal shot, and I could hear him breathing. Trying to breathe. I must’ve got him in the lung. It was that kind of gurgling, choking… even over the screaming of our Principal, the orders of my squad leader – he’d gotten himself sorted, grabbed the pistol of one of our fallen, and started shooting back. Even over the screaming and the shooting, I could hear him trying to breathe. And then, suddenly, I couldn’t.”

Juliet had tilted her head back to look up at Butler as he spoke. He didn’t seem to notice, though he did keep absently passing his hand over her hair.

“How old were you?”

“Twelve,” he said, then let out a short huff of mirthless laughter. “Twenty-five years ago, now. I didn’t realize that.”

There was no regret in his voice. There was no sorrow. But there was a quiet, calm pensiveness to it that did more to relax the tension in Juliet’s muscles than she had thought possible.

She had spent years being told she would eventually have to kill someone in in her training, or line of work. It had seemed like a game before.

Her brother, her uncle, her senseis… all had tried to drive home that murder, even for a good reason, was not going to sit lightly on the soul. She hadn’t really believed them. She’d seen her family shrug it off. Her tutors talked about it like it was nothing. After snapping a man’s neck in her bare hands, though… even a decade of psychological indoctrination and practice in personal debriefing and emotional regulation couldn’t quite prepare a fourteen-year-old for that kind of trauma.

A wave of calmness hit her as she realized that her brother didn’t just shrug off killing, that the memories of it still made him pause.

“Does it get easier?”

“Hmm?”

“Not the… killing. I don’t think I’d want that to get easier. But the… processing.”

“No. But you get better at it. You learn what works for you and what doesn’t, and how to constructively handle the emotions and physical reactions.”

Juliet nodded. One of the first things acolytes learned at Madam Ko’s was identification, sorting, and processing various emotions. As ten-year-olds, it didn’t always work, but the basics were there. In hindsight, Juliet could see just how much of her tutelage had been based around the methods with which one could center oneself during and after traumatic events.

She was surprised to find herself unconsciously using some of those tools. Madam Ko hadn’t let her leave the Academy until she, her sensei, one of the psychologists on site, and Madam Ko herself had sat down and worked through the immediate aftermath, but Juliet hadn’t been aware of just how effective her compartmentalization skills had gotten until she was sitting at home and able to unpack everything around those who wouldn’t judge her, and would support her no matter what.

When a quiet knock sounded at Butler’s door, Juliet made to sit up, to look professional and grown up. Her brother’s arm tightened around her, and he pulled her back down against him.

“Come in,” he said, and the Major opened the door and walked through. He had a tray balanced on one arm, and Juliet’s stomach growled as she smelled the homemade spaghetti sauce that had always been her preferred comfort food. She didn’t remember when she last ate something besides airplane peanuts, the weight of what she’d done heavy in her stomach.

“I figured you two hadn’t eaten,” Major said as he put the tray down on the bedside table. He raised an eyebrow at his nephew for the clutter already on the surface – consisting only of a cell phone, charge cable, pistol magazine, novel, tissue box, and bottle of Tylenol – before sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking at his niece. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.”

“Eat, then. It’ll help.”

The teenager took the offered bowl, careful of the hot edges. She leaned back against her brother, not yet trusting herself to not fall apart without the support – emotional and physical – his presence provided. For his part, Butler settled his own meal on his lap so he could eat it one-handed.

“We still need to talk directions,” Major said to Butler.

“Of course. You were saying the staff corridor, east side? Isn’t that the staff fire escape?”

“Yes, but if it’s viable it exits closest to the car park. There’s another exit, bit more awkward to get to, at the southeast entrance by the coat check. That’ll be the backup.”

Juliet sat quietly as she listened to the soothing depth of the voices of her family as they talked shop. They didn’t seem to pay her much mind, but as soon as she was done eating large hands took her bowl away and pressed a large bottle of water into them. She drank it slowly, head on her brother’s chest. The steady rumble of his voice and thump of his heart had her eyelids drooping, but every time they closed, she saw the same image of a dark-haired corpse falling to the ground, surprise and pain on his face, and she jerked awake again.

“You need to rest, kiddo.” Juliet started as her uncle’s hand landed on her knee. “You’ll be alright, but you need to rest.”

Juliet bit her lip. She didn’t want to leave this cozy little corner of the world just yet, with her family around her. “I know. Can I… can I stay here?”

Butler shifted so he could lever Juliet over him and onto the floor. She reacted automatically, feet planting themselves firmly even though her legs were numb from the hours she had sat curled up. Her uncle had stood at the same time, and immediately reached out to pull her into another hug.

Butler stood as well and pulled the covers down on his bed. The Major picked Juliet back up and put her in the middle of the big bed before resting his hand on her head for just a moment. “You’ll be fine, Juliet. Just rest.”

He stepped back and nodded at Butler. “Let me know if I can expect you in the morning,” he said. Butler nodded back.

The Major left the room, taking the dishes with him and closing the door with a quiet click. Juliet glanced at him as he left, but then watched her brother as he tucked her in and settled back down onto the edge of the bed.

Butler ran one large thumb over his sister’s brow, wanting to ease the pain he saw in her eyes.

“Close your eyes, Jules. It’ll be alright. Just close your eyes.”

Juliet shook her head. She didn’t want to see the endless repetition of what she’d done.

“Juliet. Close your eyes.” Butler’s voice was firm.

Juliet took a deep breath doing as she was told, hands curling into fists in the covers.

“Just relax,” Butler murmured. “Just relax, recognize what happened. Recognize it was a different place, a different time. You’re here now. You’re here now, and it’s over. You did what you had to do, and it’s done. You’re safe, you’re here.” He kept repeating much the same, continuing to stroke her forehead to ground her, until he felt her shudders slow and her muscles relax.

“Dom?” Juilet murmured, taking the chance that given the circumstances, she could use her brother’s given name.

“Hmm?”

“Will you stay?”

“Of course, baby sister.”

Juliet’s smile was weak and watery, but genuine, and stayed with her as she fell asleep.

#domovoi butler #juliet butler #i'd post this on ao3 but i haven't the fuzziest on what to title it #suggestions for that are welcome

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sunshine-scented · 2 years

Note

Hello, I wanted to ask you: How would they react and what would they do to a reader suffering from menstrual cramps?. - Sun Wukong, Macaque, Red Son, Nezha x Female Reader. - Comfort

Huhuhu~ anything you want

❀ Lean on me if you want to ❀

: How would they react when their s/o is suffering from menstrual cramps

: Sun wukong, Macaque, Red son, Nezha x fem!reader

: Fluff, Comfort

Sun Wukong

Since he's lived for a long time, it's surprising on how much he knows of this stuff

Despite his,, unique characteristics. He's still a very responsible person if it's really needed

When he sees you clench your stomach and complain on how much life sucks, he already knows its that time of the month again

He's got everything and I mean everything prepared, you need anything? He has it packed on your corner shelf <3

If you're dating, he's much more physical

Will never leave your side once the cramps start to kick in, holds you in his arms and runs his fingers through your hair to soothe you

Is very soft cause he really doesn't like to see you in pain :(

Really really hates the state that you're in cause he doesn't like to see you suffer, so he takes it as his responsibility to help you feel better

Forehead kisses and words of affirmation, just loves to praise you on how you're doing

"that's right, hang onto me whenever you feel like it okay?"

"shh you're doing so well ♡"

"everything will be fine, I'm here, I'm staying"

And when you finally feel better, he's now ten times happy cause you're smiling again :)

If he's just crushing on you, once again he will never leave your side

Acts like a panicked mother who's constantly asking questions

"Do you need anything? How are you feeling? When does this last cause I wanna be with you :(("

Nothing different happens with him since he's just a naturally touchy person

But since it's you then he'll give you privacy and space if needed, although he really just wants to be with you, he doesn't wanna invade your space for his selfishness

Also, your mood swings are scary haha,,,don't hurt him please

Six eared Macaque

Doesn't really have the much experience, so he kind of googles about it

Once he understood what you're going through he immediately was shocked, panicked,,,maybe even intrigued

You have to go through this much bs? Every month?? And you're still standing?????

His respect for you just rose up tremendously

Very awkward since he only has limited knowledge of what's going on, but wants to help you as soon as possible

Rubs and massages your stomach while he kisses your face

Since he doesn't know that much of this he leans onto the one thing he's best at, telling stories

He likes to distract you from your pain to this voice, telling tales of old and new

Maybe would even hum melodies just to keep you calm, his chest reverberating everytime he speaks

Overall, he's more vocal than usual

When you finally get better, he scoffs and teases you to pay him back for the effort he's done for you with a smirk

But the slight brush from his tail on your arm when he turns his back towards you indicates on how much he's grateful you're better ♡

Red son

He's got plenty of experience from his mother so this will be easy for him

Sike, he's the most panicked among all of them

Constantly asks you questions on how you're feeling or what you want him to get for you so much to the point it just amps up your suffering

But he genuinely has good intentions so go easy on the poor guy

Is now your personal servant, trademark

"Do you want water? Or maybe some food? Do you want anything sweet?"

"I want you to shut up"

Will tone it down for you, also cause your mood swings are scary

Shouts way less when you're there, feels like you could break any second because of said pain

Impossible really since you're such a "material girl" as Mei loves to call you

But he loves you so much so that's your problem

Once you feel better he starts to chill as well, but pretends that none of the stuff that happened even existed

Look a little closer, and you could see a pink tint on his ears

Widdle babey :((

Nezha

Pretty sure this man also has no experience in this what so ever, so when you were in pain he literally thought you were cursed by a low life demon and immediately went feral

"Who dares to confront my beloved and chain them into a curse of such agony, I'll tear through their teeth and rip them to shreds."

"Nezha, baby it's okay, it's just my period where blood comes out and gives me massive pains, really normal actually"

"...A BLOOD CURSE?!"

"NO—"

After a bit of explaining and teaching, he kind of gets the jist of it

Thankfully no one died

Doesn't still knows how to help so he, begrudgingly, asked Wukong for advice

Monkey man was so smug and teasing "aww, widdle baby needs my hewlp for his bewoved🥺???" Nezha just exploded his mountain and left

So he kind of goes on instincts for this

Is much for physical for you, massages your shoulders and tells you to sit on his lap so he can properly massage your shoulders

Why didn't he just let you lay down? Baby just wants to be selfish and wants to feel you on his body is all ♡

Runs his fingers through your stomach as a way of hoping to soothe the pain in a way

Never leaves your side, ever

Is always at your back and call, you literally whispered his name once and the he came at the front of your door

Overall, very very physical towards you

Once you feel better, he can't help himself but to smile and give you a peck on the lips praising you on how well you did ♡

Nezhaa<33 I'm so happy someone requested for him

I apologize for my lack of updates, I'm not living the vida loca right now :(

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qtsickchiq · 3 years

Text

ONLY YOU

with Haitani Rindou

“What have you done this time Rin?” You asked with a serious tone glaring at the younger brother of the Haitani who is currently sitting in the opposite of you.

You are surprised when you heard about the news. You knew something would happen in that Kantou incident but this exceeds your expectations. You make some time to visit the Haitani brothers at the Juvenile Centre.

Rindou has his usual bored expression on his face. “It’s none of your business y/n.”

“So this is how you’re speaking to me now huh?” You mumbled under your breath, gaze trailing down to the man in front of you. The young man let out a loud sigh as a response to yours.

“You know what Rin? I’ve enough. Let’s end this.” You whimpered, your fist tighten around your dress.

He raises a brow, trying to catch the things you were saying. “What nonsense are you spitting out now?” He let out frustrated chuckles.

“I don’t see any way we are going to work.”

“Stop, you can’t leave me. Not now.” He hissed, slamming both of his hands on the table.

“Rin, this is not going to work! You don’t even give a damn about me, about our future. Have you ever thought of me in that brain of yours?” You wail as the tears start rolling down on your cheeks. He flinches back, his eyes widen at your words. He was at a loss for words. It’s true, he know it himself. He knows damn well.

You looked at him, teeth gritted, frustration clear in your eyes. “As I thought, let’s end this. I can’t keep waiting for you like this.”

He tried to grab your hand but you end up slapping his hand away. “I’m sorry please- please don’t leave me.” He whimpers. He lowers his head and his eyes were teary, hands slightly trembling.

“I love you Rin, I love you so fucking damn much that it’s hurting me. I just want you to give a damn about me for once.” You murmur as you slowly getting up from your chair, wiping away the tears on your cheeks using both of your sleeves.

“I know.”

That was the last time he saw you. He hadn’t seen you at all for the past years. It’s been years but he still gets dreams of you. He missed you so much. He missed your soft-spoken voice when you talks to him, your sweet laugh when you laugh at his boring jokes, your honey sweet lips when it touch his. The thoughts of you linger in and out of his mind. He regrets everything he has done to you before.

He can’t stop loving you. Believe him, he tried. He lies awake every night, trying to think of ways to get you out of his mind. But he fails every time. He tried looking for you several times before but you keep on avoiding him. He still waits for you days by days even until today.

“Rindou, what are spacing out now? Come on, let’s enjoy the drinks. ” A voice greeted his ears and snapping him out of his pondering. Sanzu give a curious stare at him, brows knitted together before a grin emerged on his face. “Come on.” Rindou shrugs, running his fingers through his hair while following his friends from behind. Many years have passed from the incident and he’s in Bonten now. Sanzu drag him away as he passes him a bottle of alcohol.

With the loud music booming at every corner of the club, Rindou can’t help but to let out a sigh. His eyes are wandering around the club. He leaned back at his seat, having his second drink of the night. That is until he could catch a glimpse of you. What the fuck. You walk briskly to the dance floor in your low cut red silk dress draped around your body. You raised softly curved arm, and a myriad of gold bangles jangled to the rhythm of the mounting beat. You are dancing along to the music with a glass of wine in your hand. He keeps his gaze trailing down to you, not noticing the ways the other Bonten members are staring at him.

The older Haitani brother raises a brow, clicking his tongue. “Hey what’s wrong Rindou?” He was only greeted with silence from his younger brother. Rindou plopped down in a chair, his intense gaze fixed on you. Ran turns his head to look at the way his little brother is looking, his lips slowly curving up into a smile as he realizes the things that are bothering his brother “Oh is that y/n?” A loud laugh erupted from Ran.

Rindou shrugs it off as he leaned back at his seat. He flicks the lighter in his hand and watch the tip of his cigarette ignite as he inhale it and blow the heavy smoke from his mouth. It has been years and you are still able to catch his attention from everything. The most beautiful creature he has seen in his entire life. His steady gaze on you gave no indication of what else was on his mind. Fuck, he misses you. He wants to touch you. He wants to stroke your cheeks once again, while looking into your lustrous eyes. But he understands that you hate him now. He doesn’t want to be a bother in your life again. He hurts you once. The last time he made you cry was something he doesn’t want to remember ever again. All Rindou could do was to stare at you as you drown yourself deeper in the glass of wine, giggling. Everything felt so heavy to him.

That is until he notices that there’s a group of men staring at you with their lustful eyes as they are laughing to themselves near the bar. They are pissing him off. He tightened his grip slightly when he saw the men start making their way towards you. Without a second thought, Rindou clears his throat as he stands up from his seat, slowly walking towards you. His hands touched your waist and then he slipped his arms around you from behind and drew your back against his chest. You are too drunk to notice. He shot them a glare.

One of the men yells, “Hey! What the hell?”

“Don’t even think about it” He bits the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress his anger.

“Huh?”

His jaw clenched. “Don’t even think about touching my woman.” His voice is harsh and cold. He harshly grips your wrist, pulling you away from the creepy men. His eyes are flashing anger.

Your lips parted for a second trying to recall the man that is fully dressed in suit. You winced when you recognize him. “Wa-wait…hic…Rindou??”

“Let’s go.” He grumbles under his breath. He pulls you closer as he walks out from the club heading to where he parked his car. You try to jerks your hand away, but his grip is stronger than yours.

“I don’t… I don’t know if I… hic… if I wanna go…?” You mumble to yourself before you stumble forward losing your own balance. Rindou quickly catch you in his arms. He let out a heavy sigh.

“You had enough. Let’s go.” Picking your unconscious self in bridal style, he gently places you in his car.

The moment you blinks your eyes you were already in an unfamiliar bedroom. Your ears perked up from Rindou’s voice, you take a glance to see the man standing right next to a window talking to his phone. He already changes from his suits that he was wearing at the club earlier to a comfy black t-shirt and grey sweatpants.

A deep furrow ran across his forehead, “Yeah, I already went home. There’s something I have to take care of. See you tomorrow, brother.” He ends the call, placing the phone in his pocket.

You sat up in the bed and look around, with your hand rubbing your head to ease the throbbing in you temples, “Rindou? What’s happening here?” You clutch the comforter to your chest.

“I didn’t lay a finger on you.”

You flinch as you hurriedly look over yourself underneath the comfy comforter. Yes, you are still fully clothes. Rindou let out a loud sigh as he passed you a glass of water.

“Um, thank you for saving me.” You mumble under your breath. His lazy eyes are staring straight to you. You took a sip of the drink.

He scoffs, “Don’t bother.” He makes his way to a chair beside the bed. “Who the hell think it’s a good idea to drink more than you can handle?” He asked, placing both of his hands in his pockets.

You shot him a glare. Ah! Now you remembered. You were at the club earlier with you friends celebrating the promotion you just got from work. Rindou suddenly stands up from his chair, making his way towards the huge wardrobe in that bedroom. You turn your head to stare at the man who is busy looking for something in the wardrobe. He did change a lot huh. You push the thought from your mind as you can see him coming towards you. He passed you a new freshly clothes.

“Wear this. I don’t think you’re comfortable enough in that shitty dress anyway.”

You narrowed your brows at him. “Excuse me sir? This dress is beautiful okay.”

“Well seems like to me you couldn’t even breathe in that dress.” His brows knitted together, pointing his finger to your dress. Rindou admits to himself that you do look gorgeous in that dress but none of it matters at this moment. He only wants you to be comfortable enough.

You shrug, “Fine.” You grab the clothes from him as you stripping yourself, taking off the silk dress from your body. Rindou roll his eyes as he turns his head away from the sight. You glance down at the shirt that is way too big for you as you sniff it, you can smell his scent there.

You took a deep breath as you turn your head to face him. “So how are you doing now?”

“M'doing fine.” He mutters to himself.

You frown, clicking your tongue. “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing.” He murmurs as he place a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, his long fingers then searched inside the nightstand and finally emerged with a match. He lights up a cigarette in his mouth, blowing the heavy smoke out.

You waited for his reply in tense silence, but his response filled you with equal anger. You shot a glare at him. “Rin, I’m talking to you. At least make some efforts in replying.”

“I am.”

You glare at him with frustration clears in your eyes, teeth gritted. “Fuck off!” You curse as you plops yourself on the bed yanking the comforter over your body. You turn your face away avoiding his stare.

Rindou raises a brow at your sudden outburst. He puts out his cigarette as he slowly scoots over to sit next to you. “Language babe, anyway where have you been all these time?”

“Home duh.” You replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

“I’m serious now y/n.” He hissed, grabbing your wrist forcing you to face him. His brow knitted together.

“Oh now you know how to communicate properly. Why the hell do you care about me anyway?”

He slammed you down with him being on top of you. Both of his hands stay on the side of your head supporting him. “Because I was fucking looking for you, you dumb woman.” His body stays in between your legs.

You wince as you tried to escape from his grasp, “You what?”

He places his head on his palm, trembling as he stared down at you. Tears burned his eyes and his lower lip trembled, “I was looking for you all these years y/n.”

You scoff, “What the hell are you saying now? I told you we won’t work!” You tried to push him away. Your eyes were filling with tears.

His troubled gaze came back to your face, pacing from your eyes to your lips. “I don’t fucking care. I’ll make it work. I can’t live like this y/n.”

“How the hell you want to make us work if you don’t even give a damn about me before?” The tears are spilling past your eyes as you sob.

“I care about you y/n!” He grabbed your shoulders, pulling you roughly against him and kissed you in a demanding way that roused more anger than anything else. You flinch as you push away from his grip.

“LIAR!!” You scream pulling away to glare at him with tear-filled eyes as you wipe your lips with you hand. “Don’t you dare lie to me in front of my face? You barely made time for me before. Where were you when I need you the most? All you think about is your gang shits and fighting alongside your brother! Have you ever thought of me? How long do you expect me to wait for you?” You began to cry, you sob muffled as you leaned forward against your arms, hugging your knees.

His heart instantly drops to his stomach. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I fucking love you, babe.” He slowly lowered his head, gathering you gently in his arms. He pulled you closer in an embrace. “I love you, y/n. I love you so fucking much that it hurts me so freaking bad to not being able to stay by your side. I’m sorry, please forgive me. I miss you so fucking bad. Let me fix this and I know we weren’t perfect but I’ve never felt this way for no one. I care about you. I fucking do. Just for once, please trust me this time.” His warm lips brushed your forehead, peppering it with kisses. Lips quivering as the tears flow from his eyes. You bury your face in his chest.

Your hands making your way to hold his back as you fall deeper in his embrace. “I can’t Rin, I’m married now.” You whispered in his ears.

He jolted away from you, eyes widened from your statement. He gripped your wrist hard, lowering his head to look at you, “You what?”

You let out a giggle, “I’m just joking, you silly.”

He sigh, “That’s a dumb joke, I was about to kill your husband if it’s true.” He frowned as he releases his grip from your wrist turning his head away from you. His lips pressed in thin line.

“Sorry~” Your eyes brimmed with tears of mirth and the smile tugging your lips broke into a grin. You place your hand gently on his hand to pull him back in your embrace. An annoyance huff could be heard as he nuzzling himself into your hair, sliding his fingers down to your hair. He leaned back in your grasp, staring straight into your eyes.

“Say do you still love me?”

“No.” You shook you head with a smirk plastered on your face.

He rolls his eyes,“Y/n…”

“Hold me?” You held your arms out, welcoming him in your embrace. “Of course I still love you, you dumb ass. How can I forget my boring high school sweetheart?” You chuckles as you strokes his hair and kisses his forehead.

He cuts you off, “Shut up.” He was sitting on the bed, legs spreading as he places his hands on the back of your thigh and pulls you forward him. He makes you sit down on his lap, inching his face closer to you.

“But you said you missed me earlier.”

“I do.” He slowly lowered his eyes as his lips touch yours. You surrendered yourself to his warm lips and secure embrace, clinging to him as your heart stepped up pace. He grabs his shirt from the back of his necks, and yanking it off over his head. “You’re mine”, his gaze trailing down to you and his warm lips kissed their way down your neck and across you shoulder. You both fall deeper into the warmth of each other.

You blinks your eyes, hours has passed. The birds are chirping and the sunlight is peaking through Rindou’s bedroom curtains. You can feel his warmth surrounding you as you can feel his arms around you. You leaned closer to him. You both are cuddling together under his comfy comforter. You glance at the clock showed 9 in the morning.

“Hey Rin~” You face the beautiful man that is snuggling closer next to you. Enjoying the sight before you, he is still half asleep. You brush your fingers to his face gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ears.

“Hm?” His voice is raspy from the sleepiness.

You huff your cheeks and lips forming a pout. “I’m hungry, let’s go out for a breakfast.”

His arm is sneaking around you waist gently to hold you closer to him, “M’no. Stay here with me.”

“But, I’m shooo huuungry~” You whines.

“I’ll cook for you later.”

“What?”

“I’ll cook you Katsudon, it’s your favourite right.” He stops, his eyes are wide open after realizing what he just said “Shit” He quickly covering his face with his hand, looking away from your stares to hide the light shade of pink on his cheeks.

You sat in confusion before it finally clicked. “Eh you still remember about that? I mean yes, it’s my favourite since high school. I can’t believe you still remember that.” Wide smile plastered on your face as you pulls his hand away from his face. “You love me that bad huh.”

“Shut up.” He cuts you off by dropping himself on top of you, nuzzling his face on your neck. He’s blushing red. You blink before letting out your giggles. You tried to suppress your giggling, but ended up bursting into laughter

You put a hand on your mouth as you laugh at him. “Say, do you truly love me?” You gently stroke his pinkish-purple mullet hair with your hand.

A scowl appeared on Rindou’s face as he glances at you. “I said it already yesterday.” He mumbles to himself, sighing into your neck and ignoring the fluttering of his heart.

“Come onnnn say it again.” You chime, grinning at him. “Say it.” You giggle softly staring at him as your fingers gently tracing the tattoo on the left side of his naked body.

He let out a loud sigh as he gently pulls your wrist making you face him. He leans his forehead to yours. He smiles as one of his arm trailing down to wrap around your waist to bring you closer to him. The other hand of his is gently brushing your cheek. “I love you y/n, I love you so fucking much and trust me I won’t ever let you go ever again. You are my one and only. ” You both giggle as you both dozing off in each other’s arms.

yours truly @qtsickchiq

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #rindou x reader #rindou x y/n #tokyo manji gang #tokyo revengers

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yanderenightmare · 4 years

Note

How would the yanderes react if their darling was the one to initiate intimacy/sex for the first time, and how do you think their darling would come to that point? (stockholm syndrome? being touch starved/deprived as punishment? etc.)

thirsty ! BNHA imagines

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon/dubcon, abuse, profanity, anxiety, guilt, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, mind control

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

-ADDICTION

She was riding for dear life, chasing that light at the end of the tunnel.

Eyes tightly squeezed shut as she hopped up and down, sliding upon Bakugo’s impressive girth, moaning each time his tip poked into her cervix as she clapped down onto his lap again and again and again and again, harder and harder, deeper and deeper, hitting knew spots upon new spots, messaging uncharted territory, rearranging her organs, poking and prodding and fitting so snuggly and perfectly inside her she could all but start crying from the bliss of it all.

She was crying. Hot tears streaming down her cheeks, numb with how warm she was, feverish and febrile and growing madder with pleasure, drunk and drowning in euphoria.

“Fuck.” He stuttered out his gruff moan, barely holding onto her hips anymore.

He'd been inspired and insured that it would be fine to let her move on her own now, knowing he’d made it clear enough she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him being satisfied first, thinking she was showing so much enthusiasm simply to make him come quicker.

He hadn't yet sensed how desperately she was chasing the same release he was, especially since he’d already made sure she came twice before they even started. Once on fingers, once on his tongue. He wasn’t at all thinking she was preparing herself for a third time, especially not on his cock.

Having left her to do all the work for a while now, having been rendered completely blissed-out and awestruck with feeling her eager movements on top of him, he couldn’t really care much for how pathetic a mess he must have looked beneath her.

His eyes scrunched together to hold onto every sharp movement of her hips, lips pursed out and puckered with his grit-teeth, his cock standing proudly, pushing into her again and again at such a fast pace he was barely able to feel his climax coming dangerously close, too numb with pleasure to part it from his release, but as his balls were emptying inside her he shot up into a sitting position in favor of lying down, needing to hold her still so he could pump his load without it spilling, arms reaching around her to keep her pushed down and impaled on him.

She tried humping for more friction even in the tight secured lock, rocking into him, kept snug against his chest, trying so desperately to reach with his cock what was screaming inside her.

He made some indication he was done. His thick arms losing their grip around her torso, head resting on her shoulder as he panted, not yet understanding what hell or heaven he was in for, taken by surprise, by overwhelming panicked surprise.

“No!” She roared out her little whine. Her smaller hands protruding nails digging into his chest to push him back down on the bed, then continuing to ride despite feeling him tense beneath her.

He tried moving again, fearing, panicking because of his overstimulated cock being continuously pleased almost enough for it to be painful. The hunger already quenched being kept fed, drowning the thirst, so much he felt as though something might burst.

Her hands moved to yank his hair, pulling him back to rest on the pillow, her other hand pushing, seizing around his throat, violating his Adam’s apple, forcing him to gasp as he choked both on the action itself but also at the sheer controversy of it all.

Her mouth hovering above his own as he groaned from the pain of having his hairs ripped from his scalp and his vocal cords abused, whereas she only moaned in return, too concerned with feeling every inch of her being on fire to care.

“Oh fuck, please, Katsuki, please, more.”

Something tight tugged in his pelvis at the same time awe blossomed in his chest at the sight of her and those pretty eyes looking at him with tears and that sweet crinkle of plead between her brows.

His name dripping from her tongue like honey as she continued going up and down the length of his oversensitive cock, slipping even easier in now when coated in his cum. Her thighs sticking to his in juices as her head dipped to lay against his chest while she continued slapping, jumping on his cock with an unrelenting, unsatisfied determination.

His cock throbbed inside her, nearly crying, screaming with something playfully akin to aching, a pressure building again even as he thought it impossible.

She was stabbing herself with his cock, squeezing and seizing and fluttering around the blade, driving him mad.

But as soon as he got over the feeling of bursting, could he pull himself back.

Grabbing her waist and hoisting her off him, she nearly sobbed at the loss of contact.

He pouted in mimic, condescendingly. “Is the little slut begging for more?”

He grinned maniacally as he mounted her, surprised to see and feel her desperately trying to get closer as he pushed her down into the sheets beneath him, lining himself up with her sopping greedy cute little cunt.

He only teased for about a moment more before impaling her on his length once again, pushing all the way into her in a mere swift second, dragging a real pornstar-beautiful moan from her, gleeful to see her squeal with pleasure as he began thrusting into her sharply, angled to hit that sweet blissful spot inside her.

“Be a good girl and cum for me again.” He growled and she swore she felt it like thunder in her stomach, like explosions, like lightning striking. “That’s what you want isn’t it?” The frenzy in his voice, once only terrifying, now made her toes curl and her head feel like cotton. “You want me to make you cum? You want to cum on my cock like a good slut? My slut? Come on, cum for me.”

She was being fucked completely silly.

Tongue falling from her mouth along with a string of wet moans and drool and his name. Her eyes swimming with tears as she tried focusing on his and the gut-churning look of feral dominant lust in the heat of them that had her pussy clenching around him, yet was barely able to hold his gaze as she was being fucked into a cross-eyed mess, feeling the pressure build and build and build and getting so close to bursting she was crying with how she was being kept from her climax by some unknown cruelty.

She just needed him to go harder, go faster.

She just needed more, she just needed him, needed him and his glorious cock to help her.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

-APOLOGY

“I hate you!”

It slipped before she was able to stop it, before she could reconsider, before she could save herself.

She watched with terror-wide eyes locked on his, awaiting whatever awful murderous intent he chose fit for her punishment, and was at once trembling.

Knees growing weak, apologies falling broken on her tongue as her fear’s need to cry outweighed her wish for recovery, resulting in simply blubbering on her sobs. Small frail hands reached out in protection, in a timid means of making him give her a second to gather herself as she fell apart with the painful fear that clenched around her heart, making it hard to breath, making it hard to see, hard to stand, hard to think, hard to do anything except for gasp for air, air that seemed to not want to enter her lungs quick enough.

“Hey, hey… breathe.”

She hadn’t even realised she’d collapsed, nor that Izuku had come to catch her fall, rocking her back and forth in his arms, head resting in his palm. Her eyes wide and frantic as she looked up at him for help, helpless in her crippling anxiety, anxiety he was the trigger of and seemingly the only source of comfort as well.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I take it back, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, please, forgive me, forgive me!” She gulped on shuddering breaths, sobbing, hysterical in her scrambling, so completely panicked, so utterly destroyed by her fear of him, knowing how those hands of his could hold the world just as easy as her head and her heart, where despite knowing that through and through she still sought out the comfort in how his fingers stroked through her locks, petting her calm.

Her hands, retrieving more and more mobility, reached up to fold across his back.

“I don’t hate you, I’m sorry, I’m just stupid, forgive me, I’m just ungrateful and spoiled and stupid.”

Tears rolled down her face as she propped herself up in his lap, hands desperate as she intertwined them in his locks, fervently trying to make up for her mistake, trying to prove she was able to correct herself, that she didn’t need another lesson, another one of his mind-shattering bone-crushing lessons.

The fact that he’d forced her into a perverted set of lingerie had fallen to waste, the fact that he’d been lecturing her about how she belonged to him, how she had no right to disobey him, how she was just a dumb little girl in a world too big for her to ever possibly understand, how she was good for nothing but being stress-relief for him. None of that mattered anymore.

What mattered was persuading him into taking enough pity on her to let her indiscretion slide.

She just needed to beg enough, she just needed to grovel and plead and cry enough.

“Sweetie…” He hummed, no anger present in his voice, but then again, there never was. Tone always laced or dripping with honey, giving no hint as to where his mindset was or what he was about to do.

And all it managed to do was make her cry harder, hold onto him tighter, fear climbing higher.

“It’s okay, Sweetie… I know you didn’t mean it.”

His words were all but reassuring, as she was waiting for the other side of the coin to show its face, waiting to hear his but’s and if’s and punishments and corrections, waiting for those hands of his to show her, to prove to her what she already knew yet let herself forget, that she was a small helpless stupid girl and he was nothing short of god.

“But…”

And there it was, her worst fear, her worst nightmare, all sounded in one word.

She couldn’t let him continue, and by god she couldn’t let him finish.

Wet soft bloated lips met, or rather pushed, forced themselves upon his stiff ones, suffocating all reprimanding comments, all and everything he was about to say.

She shuffled into a cradling position on his lap, body and chest glued tightly in his embrace, hands running, tangling, gripping desperately onto the emerald locks at the nape of his neck, lips whimpering upon his ones, as though begging them to kiss back.

That desperation tasted delicious on his tongue. How she sat on his lap like some wounded animal, begging for the kind and nurturing hand of their master to help soothe the pain away.

He wasn’t about to discourage that type of behavior, that form of apology.

She wasn’t ready to take his cock, but then again, she never was with how gifted he was and how cursed she were. His cock being so threateningly huge, just like the rest of him.

But given the rest of him was just as threatening, she could manage, she could survive taking but one of his limbs rather than having all his brutal strength take care of her.

So she buttoned up his pants, trembling fingers working hurriedly, spiked by fear of both what was to come and what would come were she to stop. Her mouth still laying sloppy tearful kisses onto his lips, as he didn’t seem to mind just how much she was sobbing to please him.

She was at once stroking him when he was out, her other hand rushing to save her own life as it messaged her clit, trying to warn her of what was to come, what needed to come.

Still he hadn’t said anything, still let her slave for him. Though that might be for the best in this case.

His large hands placed palms down on the floor, simply supporting him as he leaned on them.

When she broke off the kiss, he was about to correct her, yet she ducked quicker, wrapping her warm and wet lips around his cock and giving th head a swirl with her tongue before pushing down as far as she could, glucking on him so eagerly and desperately, rendering what reprimanding movement was to come of his hand to an encouraging petting of her head instead.

She only sucked for a brief moment, leaving the proudly bobbing spit-slicked pole cold once she parted with only strings of drool connecting them. She shuffling back up to align him with her entrance hurriedly.

Her lip quivered as she looked at him to search his stoic features, her body frozen, left to simply hover and sway above his impatient member, as she tried her best to quickly brace herself for the pain she was about to feel.

But then his patience wavered, and strong hands griped her hips and forced her down to take the cock, impaling her as he sheathed himself fully, earning a high-pitched screaming whimper from her.

She fell to his chest, hands tugging his shirt to steady herself as she winced at the feel of him tearing her apart.

“Silly me…” He chuckled, the sound cold and gut-wrenching. “Rewarding you when I should be punishing you.”

She breathed sporadically, hitched and hiccupping.

“I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve it-”

Agreeing was the only course of action for her, the only thing she could afford.

“That’s right, you don’t deserve it.”

But the world is far from fair.

TODOROKI SHOTO

-DISTRACTION

He was coming.

He was coming and nothing could stop him, nothing could change his mind, nothing could help and nothing could save her, except maybe the next worst thing.

Bargaining pain with unwanted pleasure, the price being her pride, her dignity, her strength.

It would happen anyway after he was done making pretty artwork of her flesh, after he’d tampered with her limits long enough.

She had the chance to skip to the end. But the price remained her spirit, steep like her fear and heavy like her mind, heart and soul scaled together.

And yet, she made the gamble.

It was either she let him bite, chew and swallow her heart and spirit and soul on repeat or she bit back.

This was her biting back.

This was survival of the fittest.

This was her surviving.

She needed to take her aim now or never, before he did it first. So, she barreled the arrow, struck the bow, leveled her hawkeye and took the shot.

“I love you, Shoto.” She proclaimed.

Arrow flying, hands smooth in receiving his chest before he could tug her towards him. Meeting his hungry approach with a focused desperation of her own, dedicated as she pushed him back so that he was the one sitting and she was the one on top for once.

Hands gentle, without much pressure, drumming up the bruises and scars of his chiseled stomach, one side cold, the other hot.

“Will you let me show you how much I love you?” She questioned.

Time to see if the arrow had hit, lips pressed firmly to his forehead a short second later, before pressing one against his temple, careful to not hurt him where the skin was scarred and sensitive around his eye, then one against his jaw, and neck, and shoulder, and chest, trailing down further and further.

He stirred once she kissed on a particular cut, his hands coming to hold her back as he began sitting up.

Yet she was firm in her resolution, her own hands pushing his shoulders down.

“No, no...” She tutted, tone still soft. Not at all as though she was giving him a demand. Not at all like how he thought a command should sound, what he’d learned his mistakes would grant him from those people he trusted.

Not at all like his father’s voice of tyranny and terror.

“Let me take care of you.” She whispered it, and his heart clenched with memories of how his mother would patch him up after training.

The arrow well planted in his chest now.

“You just lie back...”

She kissed his cheek then, adamant she’d make him cry, make him become soft, help him, to save herself.

“Relax....”

She kissed his lips then and she swore she heard him whimper like a kicked pup, all fragile beneath her, broken and just a boy rather than the cruel man she knew him to be.

And then he was crying. Softly and quietly, but crying nonetheless. Thin streams of saltwater running down the corners of his pretty eyes.

He looked so vulnerable then. Vulnerable like glass, no… like ice melting.

And when the ice had finally melted she could either swim or drown in what ocean was left behind, all depended on how softly she handled him, where one wrong word would make him sharp like bladed icicles again, and the right words would keep him like this. Small, weak, needy, tame. You can only kiss storms when you’re right in the eye of them, where one misstep will send you flying, falling, to your despair, to your death.

She could make no mistakes.

She aligned her naked sex up with his. The steam in the room layered thick with dew on their naked bodies, alongside nervous sweat.

“You and I are the only ones that matter in this entire world, Shoto…”

She sat down, hungrily ripping a groan from his chest at her almost brutal pace, and she moaned as she dipped down to lay herself on his chest, feeling him sink and twitch inside her, fill her up so perfectly, like two things falling into sync, like yin and yang, like balance.

“It’s only you and me between heaven and hell.”

She whispered the words like a chant, like witchcraft, the breath of them tickling his skin as she kissed down his pelvis, still firmly planted on top of him, hand trailing after, running over him smoothly and precisely, careful in their venture, before dropping down from the loft of his hips to entangle her small breakable finger in his destructive hands

“And everything else is just falling snow…”

She rocked her hips, like a smooth wave rolling into shore, thighs cradling his torso snugly, keeping him safe and trapped beneath her as she continued lolling forward on repeat, tentatively feeling after the pressure his hands gave hers, how tightly he squeezed, if it were a form of encouragement or discomfort, their wrists laid on the warmth of her thighs.

“I love you, Snow-Angel.” He cried, voice jagged and so far away from anything she’d ever heard.

And though this was what she’d been aiming for, having it enrol before her was a frightening type of uncharted waters she hadn’t at all any knowledge of how to tackle.

And that fear, the fear of drowning, increased so spectacularly when he sat up.

His fingers slipping from hers, leaving her control and wrapping around her torso instead, tightly, so tightly she feared he’d break her spine.

And then the heat followed, the blistering heat.

And then the cold, the promise of frostbite.

But then… he was still crying...

Crying like a toddler into her shoulder, nuzzling in her neck and all those terrifying and painful promises seemed to mellow, leaving her unscathed yet panicked, as without the pain she had no way of knowing when or where to go, resulting to her simply sitting there, comforting her captor, speared on his cock of her own choosing, with his tears running down her back.

Her heart beating painfully rapid in her chest as she slowly and unsurely raising her freed fingers to wrap into his dual-coloured locks, petting his head and hoping, praying she wasn’t falling prey to any false sense of safety.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

-HABIT

They were doing what they always did.

Simply lounging.

Slugged on the bed, in each-other’s arms. Sickly sweet fumes in the dank room. Air thick like a cloud, dark and grey and matt.

The walls having been erased or rather blurred out into nothing, leaving them there, floating in and about nothing, each-other’s warmth the only constant.

Where in the complete lack of scheduling it had become like schedule, like ritual to simply lay and do nothing, then do something that threw them back into exhaustion which in turn resulted in yet again doing nothing, except maybe sleep.

The day lacked much, and in its lacking there were certain expectations, certain instincts and impulses that had arisen inside her.

She knew something was coming, anticipation, she knew something was supposed to come, and yet they still laid there and did nothing, when they were supposed to be doing… well… something, so that they yet again could go back to doing nothing.

It was safe to say her head had become rather empty at this point.

“Are we forgetting something?” She felt the need to ask, felt the need to hear Dabi tell her, give orders in where she should go and what she should say, something not allowing her to feel the terror of why those necessasties had become second nature or why she found refuge in them.

He mumbled in return, tone dark and scratchy like gravel or coal, evoking something to twist in her lower abdomen and purr with pleasure. “And what would that be?”

Dabi’s hand still fingered a rolled blunt, perfect with his expertise and nimble lanky fingers. Hand dragged to his mouth to take the final blow, smoke puffed out into the small space of the bedroom, layered thickly in the air.

Her eyes puffy and watery and red yet remaining open out of habit. Her lips burned, or rather stung, prickled from the after affects, her mouth dry as though full of ash, and as she breathed she felt the scratchy raw feeling of her throat by how much she’d been coughing earlier.

Dabi was always certain she didn’t take proper drags, therefore resulting in taking the drag for her, locking his lips painfully tight around hers, blowing until her face turned red and he could be sure the smoke reached her lungs. He was never satisfied before her eyes glossed over, blank and stupid, blinking at him so softly, as all off her became softer and softer, both her gaze, her voice, her words, her actions, her thoughts, her resistance.

“I don’t know…” She honestly didn’t, all she felt was that something was missing, that she required something, or that something was required of her, the feeling that she was supposed to be doing something or have something done to her.

Dabi turned his head to look at her, inspecting her features, the cute confusion warping her face into a feeble timid expression, brows softly scrunched together, eyes focusing on nothing yet something as she raked through her empty head, her foggy ditzy subdued head.

A look of near endearment present on his face as he watched on for a second for the sake of amusement.

He cupped her cheek, her eyes quickly skittering to meet his, as though on command, knowing by instinct that was what she was supposed to do.

“Are you waiting for something, doll?”

Her lips quivered, and he could already spot the brimming of bubbling tears that came flooding to the surface. Soon to be spluttering out hopeless mumbles if he didn’t save her from the fall first. He was almost tempted not to, if only to scoop up what was left afterwards, put the pieces back together in whatever order he so wished, but he was feeling benevolent tonight.

His smile was soft as it neared her, deceptively so, kind and well-wishing, as his lips met with hers.

It felt like salvation, it felt like peace, it felt like all was falling into place, the way they should be, and she felt safe, no… she felt saved. From what? She did not know, as she had not the mind to care. All she had the mind for was to kiss back.

She moved more on her own now, with the reminder of his tongue in her mouth, the taste making her feel like she was being welcomed home.

Leg sweeping over his to plant herself in his lap, in her rightful place, feeling the all too familiar poking of his hard cock kept bulged beneath the comfort or discomfort of his briefs and jeans, brushing into and past the thin fabric of her cotton laced panties, soon to be drenched, as on cue, as though she’d been taught that would be best.

Her eyes were wide, wide with falling, with being lost, with wanting him to catch her, to save her, wide with waiting, hanging onto his every movement, as though incapable of doing anything on her own, as though only capable of taking orders. Just as he’d shaped her.

His finger drummed alongside her thighs where she knelt on his cock. His other hand doing the same, meeting where his jeans were kept on, unbuttoning, then zipping down, all so slowly, all to watch her features turn even more lost, into something that looked so adorably like hope.

“Is this what you wanted?”

He pulled his stiff dick out of his boxers, having it spring and stand proudly in the air, curved and pierced with all sorts of fun.

She licked her lips mindlessly, eyeing the pole, wanting, no, needing, no… compelled to pull her underwear aside, revealing what dripping drooling well-trained mess had pooled from her.

Feeling so utterly fulfilled, it feeling so positively right, as though what she’d lost was now returned, was she’d been missing she’d found, and what more, what she’d been missing had been missing her as well, hungrily so, painfully so. It was all she could think of when she eased down onto the towering pole until she was filled up to the brim, only to push down some more to envelope him entirely, feel him stretch and curve inside her.

More after that, she didn’t know what she needed to do, but she was sure she’d know once she got there, she was sure Dabi would be a saint and tell.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

-BOREDOM

She was losing her mind.

It was a horrendous type of silence. Silence that wasn’t really silence at all as it was cut and sliced and murdered and bled out into the tactless endless mocking clicking of Tomura’s consoler.

Sharp aggressive smacks where he thumbed the joysticks, quick slaps with his long veiny bony fingers slamming with unneeded force into fragile buttons.

She felt the sting in her temple, eyes squeezed so impossibly tight to a close as her ears sung with irritation.

“I’m done.”

She only barely recognised her own voice. Though she knew she mouthed the words and she knew she added timber and tone to sound them, but that whine, that sickly sweet defeat that laced the syllables, as though she were crying, as though she were begging, that wasn’t her, but that was who she’d become.

“You win.”

And she wasn’t at all sure if she cared anymore about her defeat.

“No… I’m about to.” He mumbled, eyes glancing to her briefly, split-secondly, before they swiftly, with lightning speed, stuck back to watch the bright screen a foot in front of him, the clicking made by his ruthless fingers never once stopping.

She wondered how such force was even possible, given he had to lift one digit on each hand in order not to destroy what he held so preciously. How he had the grip, the agility, the mobility and speed and precision was something that spurred through her mind each time she watched him go on, winning more so than losing. She guessed it was practice. Sometimes it would amaze her, somedays she would watch mindlessly as he sped through all levels, all ranks, all challenges, all side quests, win after win, wondering if it even posed any challenge, any stimulation when he seemed to complete them all with such ease and finesse, effortlessly.

Sometimes it would amaze her, but this was not one of those times.

She swore her ears were bleeding, they were screaming and crying and strangling all wishes she had of sleep. The bed was too soft and everything was too soft, too quiet, yet not quiet at all and she was so fucking bored, so fucking drained of everything and anything except irritation and the need for something and anything, something loud, something sharp to wake her up, something terrifying or something anything everything that could make her feel something anything everything.

She needed it, and she needed it desperately, all things aside, fuck who she was, and especially fuck that shitty fucking game he was playing.

“Fuck! Your stupid! Game! Tomura!”

She hadn’t even realized she’d slid off the bed and was standing on her numb feet, game controller snatched from him in one second and smashed to smithereens on the wall in the next.

She looked more shook than him, if he was being honest.

Nonetheless.

“What the fuck?!”

He was mad, no, he was fuming.

And she lived for it.

“I swear, you’re gonna pay-”

He hadn’t even reached her before her lips split into a grin, eyes like lightning awaiting the thunder.

“Gladly, punish me, do something, do anything!”

She wasn’t proud with her playful hinting, but you aren’t supposed to live your life without doing things you regret. And though she was playing spoiled brat for a notorious villain, the most dangerous individual she’d ever met, he also had a cock crafted by monsters that seemed to hit every spot it needed to, finding and creating new ones as it filled her up to the brim and she was salivating just by the thought of being split open on it, especially by seeing what mood she’d conjured from him.

But, even though her pride dripped from between her thighs, she was not too eager to plainly say that she desired his dick balls-deep within her needy cunt.

“What?”

He’d stopped in his tracks, eyeing her. And though some part of him wanted to believe what disgusting depraved thoughts he had regarding why she was seeking his attention, he knew better, rendering her annoyance to simply picking a fight with her captor, quite like a how child throws tantrums at their parents or prisoners riot.

Turns out her playful words did little to sway his thoughts regarding the situation.

“You’ve been playing your dumb videogames all week!” She whined, almost screeching. Eyes angry and lips pouty.

He wanted nothing more but to show her what bad behaviour would give her, but seeing how punishment would be giving her what she had requested, he wasn’t too quick to fold to his desires.

“It feels like I’m dying, make me feel something, anything…”

She was pleading he realized, and stopped in wonder at the revelation.

She was pleading with him, begging for him, for anything of him, anything meaning anything…

Yet… surely not what he wanted it to mean.

“No.” He forced on a nonchalant tone. “You smashed my controller, I’m not rewarding you for that, there are nicer ways of asking…” He drawled and turned casually to get back in his chair, pondering his need to purchase another custom-made console, thinking he had a couple things he wanted to fix anyway.

Was she really going to have to be so literal? Was she really going to have to bend over and beg for him to take her? Was she really going to have to serve him her heart, her spirit, her mind, and soul and body on a silver platter for him to take it?

She thought he was greedy. She thought he was depraved enough to hear what she was asking of him.

No way he was ignoring the invitation, right?

If that were the case, he could at least mock her for her begging, but he barely seemed to even recognise her change in attitude at all. Granted, she couldn’t really see much of his expression beneath that mop of hair.

She wanted to scream, pull her hair out of her head, yet as her knees hit the floor and Tomura sat back down in his chair, she realized she had but one thing to do.

Crawl.

She was silent, shuffling under the table, taking one gluttonous drag through her nose, mouth watering at the reek of male musk, his musk, Tomura’s musk, a smell so undeniably him.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to let him know she was there yet, but decided to be a tease and better prepare him for what she was about to do.

Experienced and confident fingers pressed a woman’s touch to his ankles, running skilled tender touches over the flexing of his calves’ muscles, despite feeling him tense beneath her. Undiscouraged as they went smoothly over his thighs to reach the hem of his boxers, reaching inside them to pull out what she was proud to feel thick and stiff and just as needy as her, warm and pulsating in her tiny palm.

Handling him delicately. First she licked her lips wet and gave the head a pretty popping kiss, before producing her tongue like a pillow for the cap and flicking the pink muscle from side to side under the sensitive skin that was already oozing with precum onto her tastebuds.

She her his breath stifle, but allowed him no rest as she closed her warm wet mouth around him.

He broke instantly.

Now knowing it wasn’t his mind playing tricks.

“Fuck! You win, you win!” He hissed, hand wrapping around her throat to pull her up from her conquering. “If I’d known what a needy little slut you were I'd have given you cock earlier. You should’ve just said so...”

They both giggled ludically as he threw her down on the bed, Thrill already bubbling up a storm on her insides with such lust to be fucked out of her bloody mind she was quaking from head to toe and screaming out her moan when he pushed perfectly into her wetness in one fell swoop.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

-NECESSITY

He heard the padding of her approach. Soft footed and gentle. Not at all like how she would usually stomp around in rage of being trapped.

He didn’t look up at first, thinking she didn’t want anything to do with him, as per usual, yet in his blurry unfocused vision he could spot she’d stopped in front of him, waiting for his acknowledgement, where he sat on the coach, undisturbed and undisturbing until now, scrolling through his phone.

He decided to ignore her, testing to see if she’d speak up and announce her demands, yet was surprised to see she stood there patiently, no words, no screams.

Curiosity getting the better of him he looked up, finding her standing there bare-footed, skin wet, towel wrapped around her, hair dripping, eyes leaking, though not from shower-water, but from brimming with tears.

His instincts kicked in then at the sight of her.

“Are you okay?”

He sprung from the coach, expecting her to push him away once he reached for her, yet was surprised to feel her attach to him, latch around him, welcome his warmth and his offered condolence instead of her usual rejection and snarling.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, why are you crying?”

He realized then that her body was quaking, seemingly febrile, so much plead knotted between her brows he’d never seen anything like it.

It made him concerned to say the least, eyes searching her body for any possible explanation in the form of bruises, thinking maybe she’d hurt herself, already scolding himself for having left her alone.

“Baby? What's going-”

He didn’t smell it at first, what with the scent being washed off and all at the hands of her shower, but the aroma was soon layered thick in the room, growing alongside her desperation.

A scent so heavenly, so lavish and sweet and ambrosial, already making water pool in his mouth.

Her shaking made sense then, so did the tears, and the desperation and the potent adorable look of despair written all over her pitiful little cute face.

“Oh… I see.”

He was going to take advantage of this.

He was going to ring it for every drop it was worth.

“Does my little angel need me?” His voice shed its concern swiftly, curling into something sweetly sadistic and salacious.

His fingers hung onto her chin, or rather, her chin hung off his fingers.

“If you ask nicely perhaps I’ll-”

“You’re being cruel.” She stated, voice so sweet, so vulnerable, breaking as she sniffled, bottom lip trembling so preciously, as he wasn’t sure the shower-water was instead not indeed sweat. Knees weak, arms heavy, head pounding, stomach hurting, eating her from the inside in desperate need to feed the bottomless hunger that was growing and weeping in her lower abdomen.

Her hand held loosely over her stomach, visibly shaking.

He ignored her statement. “That was a long shower…” It was an insinuating observation, cocky in its nature. “Were you trying to help yourself on the showerhead?”

He quirked a brow at him, a smirk playing in the corner of his mouth.

“Trying to get out of grovelling for me, hm? Despite knowing how my cock is the only thing that can save you.”

He was gleeful, sadistic bliss tickling through his body, sending pleasure through every nerve, because he knew, he knew he was right and he knew what was coming. He knew she would fold, surrender, succumb, and he knew how grateful she’d be afterwards, dripping with his cum, eyes opium-blown, euphoric and fluttering, and looking at him with such wholehearted, such won-over love.

Though, know all that filled her eyes were glistening tears and swirling suffering.

“It hurts…”

His heart clenched at that.

She looked like a toddler, small and weak and helpless and innocent, as though if it weren’t for her predicament she wouldn’t be abusing every ounce of energy in her being to make him miserable.

How ironic, she being the miserable one now, all dependent on him.

“It hurts, please, please help me, help me, Keigo.”

She was aching. Her small needy hands coming to grab at him, to pull him closer as she sobbed, whining so beautifully for him.

“I need you, Keigo.”

He was getting wrapped up in it, hanging onto every perfect needy jerking she did to try and get closer, to try and help herself against him, licking it up as though he was parched

And he was, he truly was, she’d drained him dry, rejecting each and every proclamation of his love. She’d laughed at it, waged war against it, and here she was, finally, embracing it, begging for it.

He realized, he needed this just as much as she did.

He didn’t need anything weightless like a stupid apology, he just needed to hear her say those pretty words.

“I need Hawks.”

Her eyes grew dark, pupils blown wide with lust as her words were laced with such feral carnality.

His hands grabbed ahold of her ample hips, grinding her into himself, where she met his attack by effortlessly maneuvering her legs to wrap around his torso, hands cupping his face as she peered into his eyes, wanting to drown herself in the gold.

“I need you deep inside me, filling me up, wreaking me…”

Her lips hovered above his own as she clutched tightly onto him, begging with every inch of her body, clinging to him as though it were for her very life.

“I need your cum, I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk or talk or think or feel, until I’m numb and all I can see is you, all I can think is you, all I am is you and yours.”

He was left awestruck by the way she looked at him, as though he were the world, or her god, with so much love and so much desperate desire and fear.

A fear he’d come to know all too much chasing her. A fear of rejection, a fear of having her heart broken, a feeling that’s all too much like dying.

“I need your love, please, please love me, Keigo.”

He couldn’t refuse, despite wanting to have used this opportunity as a lesson, he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave her suffering and he most definitely couldn’t leave himself suffering now that his cock was hungry for the attention she was all too eager to give him.

SHINSO HITOSHI

-SUBMITANCE

She knew she should be disgusted, she knew she should be angry, she should be fighting it.

If she were the feral creature quite alike the lioness or tigress or any other wild cat, she should by law be scratching and clawing and snarling. She should revolt, reject, uproar at the feel of a collar around her throat.

But here she was, big wide glossy opium-soaked eyes staring up at her Master and his compelling lilac orbs, feeling her stomach curl at the feel of his big fist tugging her leash as he hovers above her, purring like a little kitten, like the little kitten she was, at the feel of his swollen thick cock filling her up so snuggly, breeding her good, while she drools at the collar put, not just on her throat, but on her mind, panting over the thought of having his commands lick every nerve of her body, making her twist and bend and bow all to his wishes.

Fluffy tail wrapped around his leg, holding onto him in the softest form of embrace as her hands are otherwise occupied with being tied to the bed-post.

She whimpered, aching fingers wanting to touch, to run smooth soft fingertips over his skin, his scars, tangle in his wild lavish purple locks.

She bit her lip and clenched around the member inside her, making him groan as he bottomed-out and pulled back again.

“Could- could Master… untie me?” She needed to ask, voice timid and hopeful, again feeling him slowly inch into her core, messaging her insides, her walls kissing alongside his girth, sucking on him gratefully.

He quirked an eyebrow, as if to ask why, or to tell her why he couldn’t do that.

“I want to touch you…” She pleaded, a confession so sweet and voice anything but brazen or wanton, blinking shamefully, guilty of her lust, even though in the light of what he’d done to her and made her do to him, it sounded like mere child’s play, something she shouldn’t even be allowed to be embarrassed about.

His eyes scanned her, curious, doubting her, yet having felt how her legs wrapped around his torso, and the ever-playful cuddling tail that had slithered between his thighs and latched itself around his ankle, tugging on him like such a clingy little devoted kitty.

His lips curled up into a smile, looking down at his little bashful housebroken pet, thrilled to see her look up at him too, eyes full of awe on both sides, lustful, loving.

He pushed himself fully into her, cockhead kissing her cervix, and she gave a mew, moaning while he bowed down to meet her lips with his.

His hands danced up her arms, drumming alongside her limbs before they met with the knots around her wrists, tugging them loose.

Once she was free she hesitated. Eyes still so wide, as though asking for permission, as though asking for guidance, or… as though she were waiting for him to tell her what to do, and then, as though a question was burning at her lips.

“Master… ask me a question?” She requested, slowly bringing her hands down from their position, placing them around the back of his neck, fingers playing with his soft wild hair.

He needed to take a second or two to really fathom what she’d just said, where his mind seemed to leap once he did.

“Something you don’t want the answer to.”

He swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling a rush of blood pool in his cheeks. His breathe grew heavy and eyes intense.

“Do you know what you’re asking?”

He needed to be sure, he needed to hear her say it, admit to it

His doubts were answered as she blinked, biting her lips, looking away shyly, clearly knowing how wrong it was of her to request him entering and playing with her mind like that.

“Yes…”

He couldn’t help but smile at her timidity, how she blushed under his gaze. But still, he needed her to give him the entirety of her desire.

“Tell me…”

He rested his forehead on her hers, happy with butterflies in his stomach at the feel of her affectionate hands running through his locks.

“What do you want from me, Kitten?”

Her breath shuddered, legs climbing higher up his back, pulling him closer. Their eyes so adamant on looking, drowning in the other. His storm of lilac so dominant and dangerous, making her mouth water and toes curl and head flutter with knowing how she was completely trapped, completely where he wanted her, loving it all the same, finding refuge in the fact, finding safety and belonging and peace.

“I want…”

Her eyes where only wide, wide with hope and searching for if he’d catch her when she now jumped, leaped into his arms.

“I want you. I want your- your teeth in my mind, marking me, making me yours, making me… feel…”

All of her was clinging to him now, her tail so neatly and snuggly slithered around his ankle, as though chaining him to her, her hands as well entangled with the unruly hair at the nape of his neck, her legs wrapped around him so tightly and desperately, pussy clenching around his cock like a vice, and her eyes hanging off of all and everything of what was giving her.

“Making you feel what?” He pushed, giving another thrust where he barely pulled out only to rock into her again.

“Safe.”

That was such an innocent word, such a sweet wish it made his heart hurt with something he couldn’t quite place, whether it was guilt or satisfaction he couldn’t tell.

“Will you do that? For me?”

He could get lost in those eyes of hers forever, those moon-big round eyes, opium-black and blown pupils so wide he thought he was falling through space with how much they reflected the limited light inside their room.

“Do you love me?” He asked then, fearing the answer.

“Yes.”

A word can be so many things, a vow, a promise, an echo, a welcome.

Her eyes went blank then, but not before she gave the softest hum as though to say thank you as she felt his presence seep into her mind. Her limbs losing all types of stress, becoming numb and soft. All her worries blanketed, where all she dreamt of was velvet lilac-tinted oceans, getting drunk on grapes and the smell of lavender and all things purple like those great godlike eyes staring down at her, the ones keeping her spellbound and tethered in a deadlock, the ones she belonged to.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

-COMFORT

The slamming shut of the apartment door, followed by the digital clicking of the lock being closed is how she knew he was home.

He hadn’t said anything.

Where usually he would at least greet her as she quickly sprung across the marble floors to welcome him home, take his jacket, kiss his cheek, all so perfectly like he’d taught her.

He hadn’t said anything.

No ‘I missed you’ or ‘thank you, princess’.

He hadn’t said anything at all.

But most things with Kai weren’t verbal anyway.

She’d learned to pick up cues, analyze a raised brow, or a slight shift in posture, or the almost imperceptible narrowing of his eyes.

He hadn’t said anything, but the scowl that accompanied his aura spoke volumes to the girl. Finding his state of mind, concerned with what she found, as it was not his usual nonchalance nor his occasional contempt, but bitter.

He groaned then, once she’d helped him out of his jacket, green and tacky, purple faux fluff, something so out-of-place on Kai, yet also serving as one of his key recognizable traits.

He kicked off his shoes, also something so very out of character it brought her concern, followed by him shuffling, feet dragging on the floors in complete opposition to how he would usually walk, with his head held high, regarding the floor as though it should be grateful to be gifted by him walking on it.

Now though, he slumped, still without a word, up the stairs, sauntering without haste, without enthusiasm, all in goal of reaching the bed, which he laid out flat on once he got to it.

“Are you okay?” She asked timidly, having followed him and standing unsurely on the threshold of the door, not knowing whether she was welcome or not.

He simply pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, giving her the answer she’d guessed already.

“Can I do anything to help?” Again, she kept her voice soft and tender, hopeful; cheerful in hopes of cheering him up.

“I doubt it.” His answer was curt and bitter as he sat up on the bed, tugging loose his tie with an exhausted growl of irritation.

She padded around the bed then, not exactly having been given an invitation to stay, but not exactly having been given any indication to leave either.

Careful as she climbed up behind him, like a cat easing in on its prey, gracious and soft and focused on not alarming or disturbing the goal.

“Surely there must be something I can do?”

His ears picked up on the play in her voice, the thin hairs at the back of his neck rising, yet his curiosity was stifled as her hands, once so small and insignificant, became the hands of God.

Fingers kneading into his back, thorough and forceful yet welcomed by him through a breathy guttural groan, closing his eyes with much needed rest as he let himself fall completely to the feeling of her messaging all his tense stress right out of his shoulders, seemingly sucking all the bad out of him.

He gave yet another throaty groan as her fingers rubbed and dug into his back, her hand stopping his head from slugging forward, cupping him tenderly and guided him to rest against the softness of her chest instead.

“Do you feel better now?”

She spoke like how a mother should, sweet like summer breeze, just above a whisper, eager to please, affectionate, without ill-will, without anything to gain, selfless and beautiful, and something he was in desperate need of.

He moaned, a long dragged out breathy moan, one filled with such potent gratitude it made her smile.

“Getting there...”

She hummed, her hands like absolution handling his back like dough, thumbs rubbing the stiffness into tender soft flesh once again, working through the knots, before climbing, mounting his shoulders and ensnaring his neck, gentle fingers running smoothly to unbutton his shirt, her face nuzzling in his neck as it was exposed to her, soft plump lips kissing the sensitive skin found there, knowing exactly where to focus, hearing him moan in relief as she zeroed in on his soft-spot.

Her hands running, dancing down his chest, unbuttoning the last of his buttons, helping him slide out of it.

Quick to take her bra off, still while kissing his neck, before pushing her warm soft mounds into his back, hugging herself against him.

“How about now?” Her voice like honey as her words tickled on his neck.

“Almost…”

She slithered around to seat herself in his lap, hands cupping his cheeks as she leaned in to kiss him, naked chest rubbing up against naked chest, warm and soft, homey and safe.

Her hand drummed playfully down his stomach, reaching his pants, moving skillfully on its own to undo the belt-buckle, then the button, then pulling down the zipper.

He shuffled them down his thighs on his own, still keeping his chin lifted to receive her kisses. His clothed erection bumping up into the thin protection of her panties.

Her hand, still so smoothly, reached under the band of his boxers to pull him out. Though his rough way of ripping her lacy underwear off managed to break through her calm demeanor as she yelped a bit and flinched.

However the surprise was quickly followed by giggles as she continued to kiss him, feeling his smirk against her lips and soon his hand cupping her ass before running hungry pressured fingertips around her thigh to play with her slit, thumb roughly pushing into her clit as other reckless digits ran though her folds to test the waters, quite parallel to how carefully she handled his cock with her own elegant hand, rubbing him up and down ever so gently, with the tenderness he carved.

He hissed once her thumb rubbed over his sensitive head, biting into her lip, and though his beastly impulses used to alarm her, now she could only think of them as an invitation.

Holding his cock up to her entrance, giving him time to remove his fingers from her now soaking folds.

She sunk down on him slowly, moaning softly against his lips as he groaned upon hers.

“Better now?” She asked, without giving way to the cockiness her question carried, but he deciphered it with ease nonetheless, giving her ass a playful squeeze before guiding her to lay down on her back, nibbling on her neck as he chuckled at how she disguised her devilish naughty humour as being innocent, wanting to make her choke on that haughtiness as he gave a quick sharp thrust up into her.

Her moan rung throughout the massive penthouse where no doors were kept closed, as he licked the sin right off her expression with one needy hungry kiss and a promise as well as a threat.

“I will be once I hear you scream my name, princess.”

TIP-JAR

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sunder-soul · 4 years

Text

PROMPT 1: Hellooooooo! First off ur writing goes off, second off listen to this idea that i truly think u can bring to life... reader n tom r in a relationship and someone tried to slip tom to love potion but ofc he doesn't fall for it and his gf is like ??? and then they rub their relationship in her face LOL. anyways no worried just thought this would slap! Admire u n ur work!!

PROMPT 2: hey i love your the last of your rules series and everything else you’ve written. i’m not very creative so idk what exactly i’m looking for plot wise i just trust you since everything you’ve written is good but i was wondering if maybe you could write a tom x ravenclaw reader please. the ravenclaw reader tends to be more emotionally reserved and isn’t big on physical affection and maybe tom finds that interesting in a way? idk this idea might suck but felt like asking anyways...

Decided to combine these two because I could see them working really well together… :D

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Retribution

Summary: After somebody tries to slip Tom a love potion to break up him and Ravenclaw Reader’s relationship, they get a little bit theatrical in response...

Wordcount: 1.8k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Good morning,” says Tom evenly, lifting a wide-brimmed cup to his lips and taking an even sip as he looks at you.

“Is it?” you say dryly, sitting down opposite him at the Slytherin table and pulling out the new Magical Theory textbook. “Have you looked over this yet?”

“I have,” Tom replies with a very small smile. “Not to your liking?”

“Sophus writes like it’s still the seventeenth century,” you say with a shake of your head, “which isn’t surprising considering I don’t think he included a single reference from the last two hundred years… I mean honestly –” you wave at the title on the front of the book, “– ‘Corpus Magikus?’ Even the title makes it sound ancient.”

“Did you have any criticisms about the actual content per chance?” Tom asks as he lifts his tea again – though it doesn’t quite hide the amused smile on his lips. “Or did you not manage to get past the articulation?”

You give him a look. “The articulation is just as important as the content.”

“I completely disagree,” he replies easily, his cup clinking as he rests it back on its saucer, “regardless of how it is written, his points are extremely sophisticated.”

“I’m not talking about the quality of his points, I’m talking about how well he makes them accessible,” you say at once, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it lightly, “he can have the best criticisms of Magical Theory in the world and no one will care if they can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Tom arches a brow and leans forward on the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re placing the responsibility of understanding an argument on the person presenting it, and not the person receiving it,” he says fluidly, “personally when I find something difficult to understand, I take it as an indicator that I need to return to the topic after better preparing myself.”

“That works fine as an individualistic perspective,” you reply at once, leaning forward to match him, “but a book isn’t written for an individual, is it? It’s written for an audience. A book like this is measured by how wide an audience it can reach, meaning the responsibility is half on him to write accessibly, and half on the audience to go away and fill the holes in our own understanding. That’s when information is dispersed most effectively.”

“Your priority is the dispersion of information as a whole and not the expansion of your personal field of knowledge, and that is the crux of our differing opinion,” Tom says, sitting up straighter and tilting his head calmly.

“I am very aware,” you say dryly, “but you shouldn’t dismiss the importance of charisma when it comes to spreading information. After all, academics aren’t exactly known to be the most charismatic people most of the time, so you end up with intelligent, useful tomes that are utterly incomprehensible to most people –” you nod at the text again, “whilst compelling idiotic drivel is widely consumed.”

The Daily Prophet lands with a thump on your breakfast plate as the delivery owl swoops away with a mournful hoot, and you share a pointed, very wry look with Tom.

Tom breathes a little laugh and laces his fingers around his cup. “So you’re not looking forward to Magical Theory, then.”

“I am,” you amend, frowning, “I just hope the class follows more like Waffling’s work than this.”

“Of course you like Waffling,” Tom smirks, lifting his cup, “he effectively writes in verse –”

Tom suddenly freezes, his brow furrowing lightly. You raise a brow at his sudden reaction. “What?”

He looks down at his tea, still frowning.

“Tom?” you prompt, bemused.

“Someone has attempted to drug me,” he says in complete seriousness, looking up at you.

You stare back, bewildered. “Is… is this more Tom humour?” you ask after a moment, “you seriously need more practice at making jokes, Tom, you really are terrible at it –”

“I’m not joking,” Tom interrupts crisply.

Your scrutiny drops to the cup in his hand. “How can you tell?”

“My tea smells like you.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“My tea,” he repeats evenly, his dark eyes coming alight with a flicker of amusement as he leans closer, his cup still in one hand, “rather suddenly smells like you. I can only assume someone has managed to slip Amortentia into my cup sometime during this conversation.”

You blink at him. “Oh,” you say simply.

Tom’s lips curve into a more defined smirk at your expression.

“Well who’s trying to drug you then?” you ask quickly, looking away.

“An excellent question,” he says silkily, eyes still on you. “Their motive is hardly a mystery, so that should narrow it down.”

You roll your eyes and level him with a flat look. “Nothing could narrow it down less, Tom,” you drawl, “half the school is in love with you, and the other half is in denial about being in love with you.”

Tom arches a brow and looks very pleased with himself. “Should I drink it and we can find out?” he asks in amusement, lifting the cup.

You huff a laugh and take a bite of your toast. “Go on then, but don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re pouring your heart out to some random stranger in front of the whole school a minute from now.”

His hand freezes with the rim of his cup an inch from his mouth, amusement faltering.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk. “If you want to play it that way you’re going to have to be smarter than that.”

“Oh?” he asks, dark eyes narrowing. “And what would you suggest?”

“If someone drugged you during this conversation then they’re probably watching for your reaction,” you say casually around bites of your toast, “so just look out for someone who’s waiting for you to dramatically break up with me.”

“According to you, that would be the entire school,” Tom mutters, looking significantly more disgruntled than before.

A grin slowly builds on your face. “That was nearly a real joke, Tom,” you say ironically, “Merlin you’ve come so far…”

He shoots you a flat glare and you snicker. “Alright, sorry, I’ll stop – look, if I storm out of here looking upset and you act all conflicted and brooding for the rest of the day, whoever it was will probably try to come talk to you.”

“How theatrical,” Tom deadpans.

You shrug. “Do you want to know who drugged you or not?”

His eyes remain on yours for a moment, and then he lifts the tea to his lips. You watch him pretend to drink, your eyes lingering on the tea glistening on his lips as he lowers the cup.

“Don’t lick your lips,” you say quietly, not quite able to look away.

Tom’s other hand shifts slightly where it’s resting on the table between you, and the tea vanishes both from his lips and the cup. You give him another dry look. “Show off,” you accuse, smiling, “wandless and non-verbal, huh?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll teach you how to do it,” he smirks.

You huff a laugh and slide Corpus Magikus back into your bag. “I should make my dramatic exit soon,” you say casually, finishing your toast and looking around the hall absently. “Perhaps we should have a fight first.”

“That would make it more convincing, yes,” he says delicately, still looking amused.

“What shall we fight about?"

Tom’s expression immediately cools and he leans in so close that you can see the patterns in his dark irises. “The content doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, a glimmer in his eyes despite his utterly blank expression, “rather, the articulation.”

You hold his gaze for a second, fighting the urge to smile. You force yourself to stand suddenly, as if he’s said something of great offence. “I’ve never seen you so quickly converted to my opinion, Tom,” you say icily, leaning down to him over the table and hoping it looks like you’re angry.

“You made your argument very convincingly,” Tom says immediately, lifting his chin coolly.

“Actively demonstrating my point, I suppose,” you snap, standing straight. “I’m going to storm out now.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he says dismissively, pouring himself more tea.

You turn on your heel and leave, ignoring the curious eyes following you on your way out and not letting the smile break on your face until you’re well outside the Hall. Now all you have to do is wait.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Amelia Staghart,” Tom says in your ear before swiftly sitting down next to you in Potions that afternoon.

You raise a brow at him, watching as he arranges his Potions kit on the desk – Staghart is sitting a few desks behind you at that very moment and can most definitely see the both of you. “Are we no longer having a fight?”

“I grew tired of that pretence rather quickly,” Tom says curtly.

You smirk. “Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.” He looks decidedly irritated.

“A lot, huh.”

He shoots you a glare and you bite back another smile. “Are you going to report her then?” you ask, writing the date out on your parchment.

“No,” Tom says softly. You glance up curiously at his tone and find his dark eyes watching you write, before they flick up to yours. “I can think of a more pertinent retribution for her to endure,” he finishes quietly, not looking away.

“Retribution?” you echo, arching a brow with a slight smile. “And you accuse me of being theatrical.”

But Tom only leans closer and – to general astonishment – places a very gentle kiss on your cheek. His lips linger soft and warm on your skin for a moment as you’re frozen in place, staring at him as he slowly draws away an inch. His eyes roam your face as you blink in surprise, his lips curving into another humorous smile at your expression when there’s a sudden SMASH from behind you.

The entire class turns from where they’ve been staring wide-eyed at Tom’s display of affection to see Staghart’s inkwell knocked asunder on her desk, spreading black ink across the wood and dripping down to the floor, her eyes wide and her expression thunderstruck as she stares at you.

“Clean that up at once, Staghart!” Slughorn says disapprovingly as he strides into the room. “I certainly hope your clumsiness does not extend through today’s lesson – we’re brewing poisons today, class!”

Staghart goes red as the rest of the students titter and chatter, furiously glaring at the pool of ink dripping into her lap.

You glance at Tom and share a silent look of amusement before the two of you simultaneously turn back to your notes, still smirking.

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