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inkblot22 · 4 months

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Give You Something To Cry About

Yay, my time management skills continue to be straight ass. Sorry to the anon who has waited so patiently for this, and thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write this depraved ball of snot. Headers by @/cafekitsune. Also don't believe everything you see on the internet, there's no scientific proof that certain things work for your skin. I think Vil would know that, considering.

This Fic Is For: Anyone who can handle it! Once again, I tried to make it as gn as possible, considering Rook's use of Franglais, but I'm delusional and will say I did exactly that. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns, and no real allusions to specific body parts are made for them.

TW for DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, forced dieting, non/dubcon, mentions of death, questionable use of magic, captivity, someone has a case of dacryphilia and a strong sadist streak, won't say who, Rook Hunt because he freaks me out, unhealthy relationship dynamics, abuse, forced BDSM if you squint, I feel so bad for the reader in this one, toxic relationships, possibly OOC characters.

“I am not going to tell you again, my love.” Vil bends down to get in your face, already wearing his ceremonial robe and heels. He points a finger in your face, like you’re a small child or a dog, “If you continue to pick at your skin, I am going to let Rook punish you this time.”

You swallow and look away, and Vil pinches your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling your head so you’re looking at him again. His violet eyes bore into you, and you swallow again.

He looks offended, almost, “Well? Have you forgotten basic manners? Speak.”

Your voice sounds dry and weak, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

He seems satisfied enough with that, moving around as he continues to prepare for whatever school-wide assembly is happening today. He elegantly tucks his hair behind his ear and sighs, scrolling through some page on his phone.

You remain standing where you are, turning your head to look out the window. It’s so pretty outside, but you only get to leave this room whenever Rook is watching you or Vil sends you on an errand. It’s always spring, never too hot, never too cold, but you’re sweating anyway.

Vil approaches you again and tilts your face back so you’re looking at him with a hand on your cheek. His eyes narrow a fraction.

“Your skin doesn’t seem to like this foundation. Make sure you discard it today; I’ll get you a new one.” He bends down again, this time to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He rubs his own together after pulling away and smudges his thumb over your bottom lip, “Hmm. What lipgloss is this?”

Your voice doesn’t sound so dry, but it still doesn’t sound like you, “Uh… The dark red one with the metallic purple? ‘Electric Berry’?

He’s silent for a second, just staring down at your lips as he cups your chin, and then he sighs and turns away, “It’s sticky. I’d tell you to wash your face and reapply your makeup, but that’d be a waste. Make sure you put on lip balm next time.”

You swallow, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

“I have to get going now. You’d better be at least halfway done with that list by the time I return.” He breezes towards the door and gives you a last, long look. He’s completely silent before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

Your palms ache. You stiltedly wander towards the list pinned in the closet, glad to see it’s not insane today. All you need to do is tidy the bathroom and skim through Vil’s mail to see if it’s anything but hate mail or advertisements. Tack on getting rid of that foundation and that’s it, at least until he returns at lunch.

You relished this time to yourself, even if it was just cleaning or whatever else. Vil always said that motion is good for you, a structure does the mind good. You didn’t care much anymore. As you sat down to search through his mail, finding nothing but the usual hate mail and what appears to be a poem from Rook (why did he even mail that? He’s not even down the hall from this room,) you catch yourself craving something sweet.

The diet Vil has you on sucks. He has assured you that your body is lovely, and he is having you eat like this to help clear your skin, but really you just want something. Anything, you’d even take a breath mint over this lack of junk food. You’re young, what young person doesn’t enjoy gratuitously unhealthy food? A basket of french fries? Ice cream?

You frown to yourself and toss the last of the mail into the recycle bin. You know he’s just going to check it over again anyway, but at least you’re moving around. That’s what he would say.

By the time you’re almost done scrubbing the tub, you hear the door open. You don’t want to go greet him, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything and keep cleaning, making sure to disinfect the non-slip mat that resembles a bunch of ugly gems glued together.

You hear him clicking towards you, and his hand rests on your shoulder, “Going above and beyond today? I have lunch, come eat.”

You school your expression and stand up, pulling off your cleaning gloves and hanging them on the rim of the tub before you follow Vil. He ensconces himself in his desk chair, leaving you to awkwardly lift the stool near his vanity. He hates it when you push the furniture.

He clucks his tongue, not even looking at you, “Lift with your knees, darling. As much as I’d love to massage your back if you pull something, I simply don’t have the time.”

You can’t help it. You shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster as you lift with your knees, right as his eyes flick up to meet yours. You nearly drop the chair as his lips curl into a cold smirk.

“Do you have something to say?”

You hastily shake your head, “No, Vil-”

“Then don’t allow me to see that expression on your face again.” He bites, “Come sit down.”

You put the stool down a little harder than you mean to and take a seat beside Vil at his desk. He passes you your nice little container containing one of several things he gets you- a pile of leafy greens and chopped veggies on a bed of quinoa, fresh fruit, and a murky green smoothie topped with chia seeds.

You don’t like chia seeds. They remind you of frog eggs- a bunch of slimy lumps, sliding down your throat. You accept the straw Vil passes to you and stir the smoothie before eating in silence.

Vil doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him for feeding you. Since he’s keeping you here, it’s pretty much the least he could do. Still, it doesn’t make up for hearing about his boring day.

“This morning’s assembly was complete and utter chaos, as usual.” He muses, sipping his own smoothie. It’s a soft purple. “It’s ridiculous. Those brutes never wear their robes correctly.”

You don’t respond. There’s two reasons: first of all, you don’t care, and secondly, there’s a knock at the door. Vil hums, as though he��s been waiting for someone, and turns to face the door.

“Who is it?”

That boisterous voice you are so used to hearing echoes past the door, “‘Tis I, Roi du Poison. I have come to join you for lunch.”

You can hear the smile in Vil’s voice, “Oh, of course. Come in.”

As Rook walks in, you feel a stab of jealousy in your chest. He takes a breezy seat on the loveseat in front of Vil’s bed and glances at you. You break eye contact and dully pick at your salad.

Vil treats Rook so nicely. He considers his feelings and opinions, although he doesn’t always listen. He speaks to him as though he’s a person. You suppose Vil’s obvious care for Rook trickles down to you in some capacity, but it hurts. Vil claims that the two of you are lovers, but really you’re more like a doll.

“Do you mind meeting me in the lab later on, Rook?”

Rook chuckles from where he is and you cast another glance at him. His eyes meet yours, again, and you look away, again.

“I can always make time for you, beautiful Vil.”

You lamely pick at the fruit, having finished the salad, before you decide to save it for last. You take a sip of your smoothie after stirring it again and openly recoil, trying not to cough. You didn’t smell it, but there must be ginger in there, because there’s a mellow burn alongside the bitterness from the kale. It makes your eyes water and settles in behind your nose.

“Mmm. Something wrong?” Vil smiles at you.

You shake your head, blinking rapidly so you don’t start crying. There’s not enough tears to fall, but taking your chances is stupid, “No, Vil. The ginger just caught me off guard.”

“Oh. My apologies, I should have warned you. I don’t want you catching a cold, and you’ve been a little irregular. The smoothie also has spinach, kale, avocado, chia seeds, and, of course, a little mango.”

You nod and force yourself to smile, taking another sip and soldiering past the rush of that aromatic pain in your sinuses. “Oh, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, darling.” Vil turns away from you to speak to Rook again, “What else did you have planned?”

“I thought I might take a walk. It is a wonderful day, non?” There’s a slight mocking tone to Rook’s voice, “Hardly the type of day to be cooped up all day, hmm?”

Vil furrows his eyebrows as you choke down the last of the smoothie. His voice is curt, “You can say what you mean.”

“Est-ce que je peux? You are not very open to suggestion.”

Vil narrows his eyes at Rook, taking a deep sip of his smoothie before he places it on the coaster sitting upon his desk. He uncrosses his long legs and stands, walking over to sit with Rook on the loveseat. Rook watches him approach with a smile, the same pleasant one he usually wears before he shoots you a beaming grin and turns to look at Vil.

Their conversation is hushed, and you can’t really make out all of what they say. You can hear someone say your name, Vil’s tone swiftly turns vitriolic, then sweetens once more, and Rook chuckles under his breath. When their little meeting is over, Vil walks back over and finishes his smoothie before petting your head like you’re some kind of cat.

His hand strokes the crown of your head, then smooths over your cheek, he cups your jaw and thumbs over the swell of your lip, all while staring at you with a look you cannot read. And then he tilts his head, and smiles.

“Make sure you thank Rook. And you mistook a letter from my father as garbage.”

“Yes, Vil.” You reply obediently, “Sorry, Vil.”

He smiles. Your palms ache, and you have to bite back the urge to move, to peel at your cuticles or scratch the sides of your fingers.

“I’ll see you in class, Rook.” Vil says politely before he tilts your face up and pecks you on the lips.

You’re left alone with Rook. He doesn’t get up, not yet. You remain where you are, looking at your slippers. You hear Rook stand up and discard his garbage. You can feel him come up to stand behind you.

“Has today been particulièrement difficile? My poor dear… You seem so sad today.” His arms wrap around you, looping them around your shoulders so they warm your collarbones like a scarf and he can rest his cheek against the back of your head. You hear him take a deep breath in.

With Vil, you don’t even try to speak anymore. You know he won’t really listen to you, because he knows better than you… But with Rook, as long as you wait a moment to make sure he is done speaking, he welcomes and even encourages you to speak your mind.

Your breath hitches and you swallow, “Uh, I mean… I guess I’m just having a bad day. It’s really been the same as usual.”

“Hmm.” Rook hums, completely devoid of emotion. You feel him turn his face so his nose is buried in your hair. He presses a kiss against your hair and sighs, “Ah, yes, the monotony of life is très épuisant, mmm?”

You wait for a second, then deliberately don’t answer the question in favor of asking your own, “Um, he said I should thank you?”

“Perhaps you should ask why more clearly. I have convinced our very own Vil to allow me to arrange a surprise for you.” Rook removes himself from your back and turns you around to face him, “And thus, I believe I have earned a kiss from you.”

“Wait, what?” You don’t get time to really back away or tell him to explain, as Rook squishes your cheeks with one of his gloved hands until your lips part.

His grip isn’t as harsh as Vil’s, but this is still something that only happens when you’re in more trouble than usual, so you involuntarily wince and close your eyes, cowering away from Rook as he dips his tongue into your mouth and slithers it between your teeth.

It is very easy to like Rook. He is passionate, and he’s far more kind to you than your supposed lover is. He’s intelligent and has an adonis-like form, and if not for the taste of blood on his tongue from whatever he ate for lunch or the grip he has on your face, maybe you would enjoy this kiss. But the big issue is that Rook honestly frightens you a little.

It’s absolutely not his fault, not entirely. Upon first meeting him, it was hard to tell if he was being genuine. He’s difficult to read, as he is often wearing the same set of expressions and his tone is always a bit melodramatic.

His hand releases your face to clamp around the base of your head, his tongue twisting in your mouth, pressing against the crevices in your teeth.

Not only is Rook hard to read, he is also uncannily observant and will not hesitate to ask somewhat invasive questions about his observations. The fact that he dresses in a way that conceals his mass is also disconcerting, as you were unaware that he had such a build until you saw him roll up his sleeve one time. You were aware Vil could do a lot of damage, but that was the day you realized that Rook was capable of doing about as much as Vil, if not more.

He purrs into your mouth, the vibrations feeling oh-so-wrong, and his other hand clamps down on your shoulder. He sucks your tongue into his mouth. It’s not a good feeling, as he is literally stealing what little air is in your mouth. When you feel something feather light flutter against your lashes and cheek, you feel a bit confused for just a moment, not even a second, before you realize that Rook just blinked. His eyes are open.

He pulls away and sighs, almost dreamily. You suppress your distressed sputtering, holding your breath as Rook stares at you.

“Ah, enough time has passed. I will need to leave you, mon lapin. Thank you for indulging me; your kiss was divine and tasted sweeter than the finest fruits!” He presses something into your palm and adjusts his hat before he casts you a wave and shuts the door.

You stand there, your lips drying out from the saliva left on them and your cheeks feeling a little odd from the way he was holding your face. You’re processing, because, ever as always, Rook is simulated spontaneity. So many things just happened, and you don’t…

You blink a few times and look down at your aching palm stupidly. The crimson cellophane crinkles as you unclench your fist. He gave you a piece of candy.

Just looking at it makes you start crying. One second you’re staring wide-eyed at the little lump of sugar, and the next your vision is blurring and you’re crying off your makeup, plump tears cascading down your face. Your nose begins to run and you sniffle. You can’t find it in yourself to sob, because you’re mostly certain that these are happy tears.

Unfortunately, you can’t eat the candy now. If you threw the wrapper away, Vil would notice it in the garbage and you’d get in trouble for “breaking your diet plan.” So you hide it in the very back corner of the drawer of Vil’s armoire. You’ll be tidying it on your own anyway, and Vil never reaches all the way into the back of it.

Once your tears have stopped, you stand up and go back to cleaning the bathroom. It’s spotless and smells like lavender and lemons about an hour before Vil gets back, so you decide to skim one of the books on the shelves.

It’s not long before you’re bored with that as well. You carefully put the book back and wander over to the lattice window, staring out of it. The window, paired with your usual low mood, made you sort of feel like a bird in a very ornate cage.

From where you are, about three stories up, you notice a familiar figure notching an arrow before he unnotches it and takes a knee. You blandly spectate as he fiddles with the bow.

Partway through him notching the arrow again, you see his hat tilt. He’s far away enough that you can’t see his eyes, but you can feel his stare. His gloved hand bends his brim and you jerk away from the window, only to bump into someone.

You don’t get to shriek, as a hand clamps over your mouth. It’s just Vil, but you don’t relax yet as he drags you towards the bed and deposits you there.

“How many times must I tell you to stay away from the window?”

He’s never once told you to stay away from the window. Not as far as you can recall, at least. Your lips tremble and you decide it’d be more wise to keep silent.

Vil glares down at you and you feel the rest of your body start to tremble. His lips curl into a displeased sneer, “You didn’t wash your face after crying?”

“N-no, Vil-”

“We do not stutter.” Vil hisses, bending to get in your face. He stares at you for a moment before standing straight again, “Speak up.”

You swallow and clench your hands into fists, “No… Vil. I… got rid of the foundation like you, um… asked me to. I wouldn’t have been able to redo-”

“Alright. Go wash your face.” Vil interrupts you again.

You jump up and rush into the bathroom, going through your skincare routine. You can feel Vil staring at you, your skin crawling under his gaze. As you rub moisturizer into your skin, Vil finally says something.

“Did Rook do something to you, darling?” His tone is soft, tentative.

You glance at him, blinking a few times. What does he mean by ‘something’? He did do something, but it wasn’t bad, or particularly different.

“Um… Not exactly.” You say, massaging your forehead.

“I see. What did he do?”

You look down at the sink. You’re not saying anything about the candy. “Rook kissed me?”

“That should not be a question.” Vil says. You see him shake his head through your peripheral, “Would you like to change your clothes before I redo your makeup?”

You’d like to ask what he’s talking about, but instead, you look down at your clothing. You don’t have a proper Pomefiore uniform because you’re not a part of this dorm. You’re an interloper- or a caged bird.

You don’t know what to do here. You don’t want to say something wrong and unintentionally offend Vil. Your palms ache. You give him a confused look from where you are.

He doesn’t look impressed, but before he can say anything about you gaping at him, you speak up, “What… am I supposed to do?”

You’ve only seen Vil surprised a few times. He raises his eyebrows and looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads, then sighs, “Well, I suppose I’d like to see you in something else. I’ll choose your outfit.”

That’s nothing new, he always does that. You wait in the bathroom for him to return. He strolls back in with a mockery of the Pomefiore uniform. There’s a deep purple cloak and capelet, which Vil drapes on the bed before handing you the actual clothes. It’s a very ruffled dress shirt, the long, puffy sleeves cinched into more ruffles at the wrist paired with a pair of black bloomer-style shorts. The buttons are all white and gold, marbled together.

Vil leaves the bathroom and you change, neatly tucking your previous clothing away in the hamper. When you leave, as usual, Vil picks at your clothing, making sure it looks as good on you as he pleases, and then he steers you to sit down.

For however vicious he can be, Vil can be oddly gentle. For every time he grabs you roughly, his touch is feather-light ten more times. He hums a soft tune as he puts light makeup on you, just your eyes and lips, and then he drapes the cloak around your shoulders and places his hands on his hips.

“You look lovely. Go put on the pair of gold boots with the black decals.”

You do as told. He very likely wants to just take pictures of you or something so he can ask that Mira app about it.

Except when you stop in front of him, he doesn’t tell you to go sit in the loveseat or on the table near his window, no, he scoops you up and presses his forehead against your jaw.

“Oh, when did you put on this cologne? What a ravishing smell on you.” He presses a kiss on the column of your throat and breezes out of his dorm room's door.

Almost immediately, you go limp in his arms, like a doll. He never gave you explicit verbal permission to leave this room, so the curse he placed on you when he decided you should be his smashes into you like a giant wave at the beach.

Vil carries you all the way outside and looks at your face, then happily struts along the path behind the dorm. Since you can’t turn your head, you can only go off of the view of Vil’s neck and chin, the sky, and whatever you can hear.

“Ah, I am glad to see you did not change your mind, Roi du Poison. J'aurais été très déçue et triste pour notre chéri.” You hear Rook say.

You can almost feel Vil get a mite warmer, “Yes, well. Hand me the basket. Since you want to make out with them and make them cry, you get to carry them as an apology.”

Rook happily scoops you out of Vil’s arms, giving you a cloying look as he strolls along. He and Vil chat as they walk, something not really worth listening in on, just boring musings about class and “this teacher did x” or “that student did y”. An insect lands on your cheek and you are incapable of batting it away or expressing your discomfort. Its legs tickle the peach fuzz on your face and you remain still, like a corpse.

Rook slides you into a seated position, posing you like a toy before shooing the bug off of your face. Now you can see that you’re in a clearing in the woods, seated on a picnic blanket. There’s a few lanterns staked into the ground, and Rook and Vil are busy with whatever is on the floor. You can’t look down, so your best guess is that it’s a picnic.

Vil leans over and snaps in your face, smiling kindly at you, “Now. If I release you, you are not going to run. You are not going to so much as consider running. We are going to have a nice picnic with no shenanigans from you.”

You can’t nod, so you just stare at him, trying to telepathically communicate.

He looks pleased enough, “Wonderful. I give you permission to leave our room.”

Your muscles relax and you look back, finding that you’re leaned against a log. The picnic spread is very nice, as well. It looks like finger sandwiches. You’re not expecting to get to eat one, as you haven’t had bread since Vil switched up your diet. Vil passes something to you.

“Oh.” You mumble, staring at the plate Vil hands you.

It’s a sandwich. A very wonderful looking sandwich, cut into triangles and with the crusts still on. You blink at it a few times and look back up at Vil.

“Don’t expect this to be a pattern. This is a treat for good behavior.”

You look back down, “Yes, Vil.”

“There’s no need to remind them. They’re being obedient.” Rook’s voice is more firm than you expected to hear him ever speak. Usually his tone is buoyant, and you’ve never seen him outright pick a fight with Vil like this.

“Please. You give anyone an inch, they’ll take a mile.” Vil cuts back, then turns to you and pets your head like a dog or a cat again, “Eat your food, beautiful.”

You take a bite. Bread is just as good as you remember it. The air feels thick, like you’re in a bubble as Vil and Rook communicate through eye contact alone. Before you know it, your sandwich is gone and your hands are covered in crumbs. Rook, still staring at Vil with that happy little smile, wipes your hands and places a glass in your hands. Whatever is in it smells sweet. You take a tentative sip.

Were it Vil, you would have never drank whatever this is. It kind of tastes like a mellow mixed berry juice. It’s very pleasant, actually. Better than the potion Vil used to lace your food and drinks with. You smile into the cup and Vil snatches it from you.

He takes a sip and frowns, handing it back, “Mmm. I have an even better surprise.”

Rook pulls your legs into his lap and gently kneads your calves as you watch Vil rifle through the picnic basket. What is happening? You sip your juice and Vil produces a triangular container. He places a fork on top and hands it to you.

You finish the last of your juice and accept the box, looking conspiratorially at Rook. Something you can’t put your finger on dances in his eyes and he digs his thumb into your shin a little strongly. You flinch and cautiously open the box. It’s a piece of fluffy white cake, with even fluffier meringue and an uncannily perfect cherry wedged into it.

You look at Vil, expecting some kind of trick. Not that he’s ever done that before, usually he’d just take it from you or make some snide comment, things like that, but he and Rook are acting really strange today,

“I know how much you long for junk food, so I spent some time after club activities today whipping up some angel food cake. It’s got agave instead of sugar so it won’t completely break your diet and your skin won’t suffer as much.”

Yeah, this is weird. The cake is good, though, it’s fluffy and sweet. You pace your bites so that Vil won’t make a comment and you can savor this. You can feel both of their eyes on you and it makes your skin crawl.

You lower the cake box and look at Vil, who looks a bit offended for just a second. The fleeting expression is replaced by a pleased little grin, the mauve lipstick making the curve of his lips all the more sinister in the dimming light.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, Vil.” You glance at the cake and then back at him, “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.”

“Why?” Rook asks.

Your shoulders jerk as you turn your head to look at him. You weren’t expecting him to say anything. His chest swells in what appears to be a suppressed chuckle as he squeezes your knee. It seems his hands have climbed.

“Uh…” You swallow, “This is just… not what I’m used to.”

“The cake?” Vil looks hurt. Why does he look hurt?

You shake your head rapidly, “No! Oh- No, Vil. I… It’s just been so long since I’ve been out here…”

“Do you want to go inside, chéri?” Rook murmurs.

You do, but you also don’t really want to risk sounding ungrateful. Being outside has stressed you out more than you’d like to admit. You’re not really sure what to do because Vil has you trained like a dog, and none of what he’s hammered into you involves picnics. You’re scared.

Rooks eyes narrow as you just stare at him. Your chest hurts from how hard your heart is throbbing, and on the other side of you, Vil sighs.

“Well, I’ll start cleaning up, then. When we get back, I expect you to take a seat on the bed.”

That sounds like what happens every time you get in trouble. A terror shudders through you and your eyes water a bit as you gnaw on your lip. Your palms ache as you fight to keep from picking at your cuticles. Vil packs up everything and Rook offers you a princely hand to help you up.

You can feel the calluses on his hands through his gloves as he essentially lifts you to your feet. You keep between Rook and Vil as you walk back to the dorm.

It’s quiet, since everyone else is winding down for bed. For a moment, you think you spot Epel, but you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. None of your old friends talk to you anymore. Not since Vil started having eyes for you.

Just as you were told, after taking off your boots you take a seat on the bed and retrieve the silver ruler from the side-table’s drawer. You place it beside you as you look down at your feet. You look down at the streaky bruises on the lighter skin on your palms and try not to start crying. It’s always worse when you cry.

He adds smacks by twos. Depending on what you did, you start with four or six, and then any time you flinch or pull away or make a loud noise, he adds two more. Last time, you spilled one of his nail polishes, and after watching you clean it up, you ended up getting ten lashes.

At least Rook didn’t do it then. He tries to make it quick but that just makes it hurt more. A tear slips down your cheek.

You don’t even know what you did. You tap the tear track dry with one fingertip and Vil and Rook fully enter the room.

“Why is the ruler out?” Vil asks, and then his voice goes sharp, “Are you crying?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Vil.” You sob.

“I don’t know why.” He grabs the ruler and shoves it away before you can raise your hands, “Go wash your face.”

You stand up and shakily do as told, returning to sit on the bed. Vil goes into the bathroom after you and Rook takes a seat next to you, his hand on your shoulder.

He smiles at you, rubbing your shoulder, “You are très précieux, chéri.”

You look at him in a state of hollow bewilderment as he brushes his cheek against yours and presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear.

You hear the bathroom door close and a tired sigh from Vil, “Do you have no patience?”

Your head jerks to look at VIl, “Rook is…?”

“Yes, he’s joining us tonight.” Vil plucks the loop of his sleeve from his middle finger and loosens his belt. You get the feeling that the next words he says aren’t for you, “Well, go ahead.”

You feel Rook’s chuckle more than you hear it. With his lips against your neck, his hands begin to slide. The hand on your shoulder rests on the nape of your neck and his other hand slides down to your thigh, then up to your waist. You try not to cringe against his touch, but it’s difficult.

His hand slides down again as he trails his teeth against the back of your ear. His thumb hooks in your pants and starts yanking them down. You outright flinch.

“Wait-”

“Relax, darling.” Vil mumbles, hanging his clothing in the armoire.

You try. You absolutely try. Rook throws your bloomers aside and rests his hand on your lower belly for a moment. He sighs into your ear and reaches up to unclasp your buttons.

You feel stiff. You want to push him away but you can’t move. It’s as though your body is frozen. It’s not due to a curse, so the only possible solution is that you’re quite literally scared stiff.

He pulls away your shirt and glances at Vil, “Are you prepared?”

“Please.” You can hear the smile on Vil’s lips as Rook turns back and kisses you again, his hand smoothing along your collarbone and shoulders.

Your underwear is the next to go. Of course it is. You fight to keep from breathing oddly, because you’re aware that if you pass out, Vil will get annoyed.

“Mmm.” The devil’s hand glides up your back and you fight back a shudder as Rook leans you backwards into his arms. “How are you feeling, darling?”

You’re honest, “I’m scared.”

“I thought you would say that.” Vil freely manhandles you, shifting you so you’re leaned chest to chest. He slides something off of the side table and passes it behind you, then cups your cheek, “You would save a lot of time and stress if you’d just learn to trust me.”

“I…” You hate him. You hate him so much. He keeps you here like a pet, and you don’t know how he’s supposed to expect you to treat him like a lover when he treats you the way he does.

Before you can articulate an answer that pleases Vil, a wicked burn besets your sphincter and you clench your jaw.

Vil’s voice is sharp, “Rook, please.”

You hear Rook make a noise underneath the harsh sound of blood rushing in your ears and your own heavy panting. Something cool oozes around the ring of your ass and you press your face against Vil’s chest. His robe is lazily tied, which is not particularly like him, and you can see his cock poking out where the fabric separates. You let out a strangled noise and Vil shushes you, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Relax. I know, you weren’t prepared. Relax.” Vil soothes.

“I don’t mind if you remain tense, chéri. Mon plaisir n'en est que plus grand. And your little cries and whimpers sont terriblement mignons.” Rook mumbles behind you.

Rook is better than Vil in most areas, but once he gets his dick inside of you, it’s as though he forgets to be caring and kind. The tables flip, with Vil acting the part of a caring lover and Rook becoming a sadistic bully. You let out a ragged sob as Rook rolls his hips and Vil hisses something that you don’t quite catch.

It almost sounded like he was telling Rook to slow down. That very well could have been the case, as Rook eases back a bit and only shallowly thrusts.

Vil continues petting you, coaxing you so your cheek is pressed against his thigh. He is always a perfect warm. He is always perfect, so it sort of makes sense, but his skin is a pleasant temperature. He feels alive, a perfectly human temperature that tells you he’s breathing and his heart is beating. As he fingers through your hair, Rook gives a harsher than usual thrust and you cry out.

“Rook, if you’re impatient then you’re going to hurt them, and neither of us have the time to take care of them all day.” Vil chides, and then his tone softens as he rubs the space between your shoulders, “Are you ready for me as well, darling?” “What…?” You ask, blearily. Somewhere in the back of your awareness, you know what he wants, but you can feel Rook’s thrusts growing impatient and seeing as you weren’t given any prep, you’re in a bit too much shock to think straight.

“Mmm… You’re awfully cute but I need you to be a bit more lucid.” Vil snaps in your ear and resumes his petting, “This isn’t the first time, sweetheart. I’m not going to hold your hand.”

The soft tip of his member spreads his pre like lipgloss against your lips. As you shakily open your mouth, you figure you’re lucky that Vil doesn’t have a chaotic, unhealthy diet like Leona or Ace, that he doesn’t drink coffee for fun or often like Deuce does. The taste of his skin is lightly floral and dominantly human, likely thanks to the body lotion he applies daily.

He hisses and presses against your forehead, “Ah-ah. You’re taking enough from Rook. Just the tip for me is fine.”

From behind, you hear Rook grumble under his breath, “Je n'en peux plus de cette merde…”

“Watch your- unf- watch your language, Rook.” Vil snarls, massaging the nape of your neck as you carefully lave your tongue over his glans.

Rook’s patience breaks, his hands clamping down on your waist, just above your hips. You have the sense to pull Vil’s cock out of your mouth as Rook begins battering into you.

As much as you feel okay about Rook, he is not a doting lover by nature. He’s mean and brutal, chasing his climax, and only after he cums does he bother to think about you or your needs. Your palms ache as you grab Vil’s member and gently tug on it. Vil flinches and snaps at you to get your attention.

You look to the side and for a second, as the pain ebbs, you assume you’re having an out of body experience, and then you realize that you’re staring into his vanity mirror. Rook’s hair exaggeratedly sways with his motion. He removed his hat but just haphazardly displaced the rest of his clothing. He’s not smiling, he’s making some sort of smug expression.

It’s funny. As Vil is satisfied with you weakly jerking him off, his touch gentle, Rook is wild on your other end. Every time you just barely begin to relax, he thrusts harder, which makes you tense and a spike of pain batters through you.

You endure as best you can. You endure every day, enduring through eating the same unfulfilling food, enduring through walking on eggshells around Vil, enduring getting your palms beaten to hell for the most human of errors, so what’s getting sodomized in the face of everything else you can handle?

You bite back a shriek as a harsh pinch on your bottom, followed by a smack administered by Rook. He leans down and blows in your ear, snickering as he leans back, “I thought you had given up the ghost for a second there.”

Vil sucks in a breath and you quietly mumble against his thigh.

“Hmm? I didn’t hear you, mon chou.” Rook’s voice is almost mocking, like before.

“P-please… Rook, I can’t-”

“You can. You’ll live.” He grunts, the steady clap of your ass against his body punctuating his statement.

“It hurts.” You sniffle. You’re not particularly prone to crying, but, then again, Rook and Vil usually prepare you before deciding to fuck your ass.

You sob and Rook’s grasp tightens on your waist, a ragged moan punching out of his chest. He pulls your body flush to his and jerks his hips into you, drilling a bit harder for all of four or five thrusts. And then he’s no longer on you, and you feel your body getting shifted so your head is still in Vil’s lap but you’re lying prone.

You tilt Vil’s dick down to massage the head with your tongue and something warm drips on your back. You hear a noise of disgust from Vil, capped by a quiet moan.

“Absolutely not. All three of us are getting in the tub if you don’t clean that up right now.”

Rook chuckles and coos, “Hmm, but it looks so lovely. My alabaster essence creates a wonderful contrast with their soft and supple skin.”

A flush of humiliation crawls up the back of your neck and you hide your face against Vil’s belly, using your own arm to hide the other half. Vil shudders as he pushes your head down a bit, but his voice sounds incredulous.

“That’s vile. It doesn’t have any proven health benefits, you know that.”

You felt Rook’s hands spreading his semen into the skin on your back and your palms ache as Vil cums in your mouth. He doesn’t do that often, so it hits you like a shock.

You gag but force it down and Vil shoots up, fretting over you.

“Did you just swallow that?” He bends down to look into your eyes.

“Yes, Vil.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” Vil snips, sounding much harsher than he might intend, “I’m going to run us a bath, alright, darling? I’ll make sure you can brush that icky stuff out of your mouth.”

It didn’t taste bad. Vil usually cums on your face as an incentive for you to wash your face very well after a day of wearing makeup, or he has you jerk him off until he cums, but the few other times you did taste it, it was the same as this time. It was mostly salty, not too bitter, likely from his good diet. Regardless, he breezes away and Rook gives your bottom a light tap. You stand up and glance at Rook, who is looking a bit disheveled but pretty pleased with himself.

“How are you feeling, cheri?”

“That hurt.” Your voice is quiet, and your throat is still lined with tears.

“Does it still hurt?” He smiles and tilts his head.

The sound of the tub running is thunderous even where you are. Vil would never tolerate you complaining, but Rook is amicable, “A little.”

“The bath will do you good, then. Come.”

You let Rook guide you into the bathroom, his hand on your elbow. As he undresses and joins Vil on the edge of the tub, you look down at your bruised hands and glance at the slowly closing bathroom door, then at Rook and Vil where they stand near the tub.

You can’t say you prefer either of them, really, but you don't get an opinion. Do dolls at tea parties get to ask for a different kind of tea?

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nogenderbee · 1 year

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May i request headcannons for childe thoma and diluc with a reader that plays piano but has never played it infront of them coz shes shy? But one day they caught her playing a song dedicated to them by accident

Of course! I may have had a little too much fun with it~ but like seriously I loves the idea so much since I can relate a little but the difference is I play on keyboard instead of piano but that's close enough! But anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this just as much <3

Childe, Thoma, Diluc catching shy!reader play song dedicated for them

TagList: @bleachtheidiot - come get your people~

⊱ Childe knew either from someone or you told him yourself (or he noticed the big ass piano in your room) that you can play on piano

⊱ and since that day he's been BEGGING you to play something for him, he didn't care if you can play only basic songs or if you can play something advanced, he still would love to hear you play

⊱ he probably tried to eavesdrop when you played piano but he always was so obvious about it so no wonder you always catched him

⊱ he understood that you're shy and maybe even not so sure of your abilities so he also tried reassuring you about it but it's up to you if it worked or not

⊱ but you still had to practice your song and your lover wasn't home often so it was good opportunity for you

⊱ one day tho you didn't heard him come home early and continued your practice

⊱ so as usually, once he heard you play, he tried to eavesdrop on you playing and this time he succeed

⊱ your song better include some words or else he most likely won't get that it's for him

⊱ once you end playing tho, you can see him leaning against the frame and clapped with admiration

"Well, well, it looks like someone really has a talent~ oh? You wrote that for me? Wow, you're really deserving to be spoiled then!"

⊱ he most likely spoil you with his affection and money after that

⊱ Thoma is the most understanding person you've met, it's enough that you tell him you're noy feeling comfortable playing in front of him and he'll always understand and respect your decision

⊱ whenever he's home and he'd hear you play, he'd always give you a sign that he's home, be it yelling that he came back or knocking at your door

⊱ so he usually heard a little bit of your play but he always gave you a sign that he did since he knows you're not comfortable sharing that with him yet, so he patiently waits untill you decide to show off your abilities to him by your own will

⊱ one day, he came back and yelled that he's home like always but this time play continued so he took it as a sign that you might have not heard him

⊱ so of course he knocked at your door but play continued even when he opened and stood in the door frame, so he took it as a sign that you're finally comfortable sharing your music with him

⊱ he stood there with a warm smile on his face just enjoying the music played by his lover

⊱ after the performance he began to give you small applause and compliments, and of course asked if there's a meaning to this song out of curiosity

"That was great, love! I'm so happy I could hear it with my own ears, you're truly amazing at this. May I ask if this song had any specific meaning?"

⊱ when you tell him that it's mean for him, he'll become a blushing mess but will spoil you with even more compliments either way making his blush even worse

⊱ you can be sure he'll make your favorite meal this day and his excuse is that he "just wanted to see your smile"

⊱ I think Diluc plays piano himself I dunno he just looks like the type of guy so I'm sure he completely understands your shyness

⊱ he's not the type to yell and make his appearance known, instead he'll simply knock whenever he passes

⊱ he usually doesn't even focuses on your play and does his own stuff but if you tell him to make it obvious he's home, he will

⊱ of course he was curious about hearing you play but he wouldn't force you to do it, instead he promised himself and you to patiently wait for you to show him out of your own will

⊱ one day, he simply forgot to get his presence known and simply opened the door, completely forgetting to knock since it was important

⊱ but once he realized you're playing piano so peacefully, he couldn't help but stop and admire your play for a while

⊱ once you stopped he simply praised you and if you think he didn't notice the romantic meaning behind this song, then you're completely wrong

"That's a very nice song. Could I ask if it's meant for someone? I couldn't help but notice it's a romantic song."

⊱ once he knows the truth, he'll give you a small smile followed by small peek on your nose

⊱ he's definitely the type to ask you to play more often for him on any occasion he gets, maybe you two will even play this song together

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

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punkeccentricenigma · 11 months

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Can I pretty please request the rise boys having a significant other that knows how to mimic their comfort characters voices? Like a voice impressionist <333

Rise!Boys with Reader, who can mimic voices.

Relationship status: Romantic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

TW: Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language, Handling stress in an unhealthy way in the parts with Raph and Leo

A/N:

I'm sorry for the long wait! Lately, I've been under a lot of stress, and I tend to overthink to the point that, while writing, I also translate text, watch YouTube, and anime to replace my thoughts with something better. I apologize again! And I'm sorry if these headcanons suck! And don't worry, I'll fulfill all orders! I won't forget any of them! Please be patient!

Leonardo

◇Let's be honest, after the Kraang invasion, he's traumatized, or at least has many moments of weakness where he needs comfort.

◇During those times, he often immerses himself in various comics or shows to forget what happened.

◇So one day, as he slowly began to stress over memories and didn't have access to the aforementioned things, you stepped in.

◇It's not like Leo didn't know your skills; he heard often and even insisted that you imitate his brothers to make fun of them.

◇Which kind of annoyed Donatello a bit; he didn't like being mocked that way.

◇Anyway, you started by imitating Jupiter Jim's voice, knowing he's one of the boy's parental figures.

"My boy! Don't give up yet! Furry creatures are attacking our base!"

◇Expect a shocked face, and then a wide smile.

"You didn't tell me you could imitate these type of voices!!"

◇He was really impressed.

◇After that, you just started role-playing for fun because why not? Lmao

◇Thanks to that, the boy felt much better <33

Raphael

◇Let's not kid ourselves, Raph didn't handle stress very well when he was the leader of the Mad Dogs.

◇He just didn't want to let his brothers down! His father! April, or definitely you! He wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to you because of his incompetence.

◇That's why he often buried all those negative emotions deep within himself to replace them with fake joy or a smile.

◇But since you've been in a relationship with him for some time, and you've known him even longer, you knew something was bothering him.

◇So you often tried to talk to him about it, but the response was always the same.

"Oh, I'm fine! Really, you don't have to worry about me."

◇You didn't want to give up, but was there any way out of this situation? What could you do? You decided to take a break from it.

◇Finally, it came to a boiling point when you started playing Jenga in his room.

◇During the game, you could feel the scent of stress coming from him. You should get him deodorant sometime... Do deodorants work on reptiles??

◇In the end, Raphael lost, but he reacted differently than usual. He wasn't sulky, he wasn't embarrassed, and fired up for the next round... he was aggressive.

◇And he scattered the remaining blocks around his room, cursing.

"Screw this, I've had enough!"

◇You immediately reacted, calling his name in a firm tone.

"Raph! What are you doing!? It's just a game!"

◇He looked at you with a stunningly negative expression, accentuated by furrowed brow bones, and then all of that turned into a suffocating sight of sadness, with transparent tears soaking the red mask. He cracked; he finally cracked.

◇In a slow voice, he began to apologize, burying his head in shame between his spiky arms.

◇Finally, you started talking about what was bothering him, accompanied by his crying at some words. You tried to listen to him, hug him, comfort him with kind words, but you felt that in this situation, it might be too little, much too little.

◇So you looked around, and a risky but interesting idea came to your mind.

◇After a moment of searching through Raph's drawers, you stood in front of him in a proud pose, wearing on your wrists the distinctive spiked bracelets that were definitely too big for you.

"What are you doing?" Raphael asked in a sluggish tone, tilting his head slightly to the side. Emotionally, he had no strength for anything; he just wanted to sleep. [Y.N] had a satisfying smile on their lips.

"Hear this! I will kidnap Peach OVER and OVER until I pull it off! And no one can stop me! Losing is not an option! And neither is giving up!"

◇On his face, just like Leo, a painted shock appeared. You never boasted about being able to imitate voices! Amazing.

◇He's genuinely thrilled with this discovery.

"Oh, here you are, princess! Accept my love, or I'll kidnap you and lock you in my fortress forever!"

◇A genuine laugh escaped from the boy's lips, causing a blush of satisfaction on your face. Even though Bowser was Raphael's favorite comfort character, Peach was second, so why not play out such a scene?

◇And so, for the rest of the evening, you chased each other around the Lair, playing your roles, and incidentally involving the others in the fun.

◇Raph felt at least momentarily free from unhealthy stress, and he's grateful to you for that.

Donatello

◇"Oh fuck, damn it, I'm about to smash this thing--!"

◇Yes, this string of curses was uttered by none other than the teenage genius Donatello Hamato. And why? It's simple; he was trying to improve one of his battle shells, but for the past few hours, he couldn't get anything done.

◇His mind was exhausted, and his three-fingered hands ached every time he took one of his screwdrivers. He couldn't take it anymore!

◇Finally, Mikey suggested he take a break from it all, so Donnie put on his favorite purple hoodie and left the house. Where could he go? Simple.

"Oh, hey D, what's up?" [Y.N]'s voice echoed through their room as they noticed the window opening out of the corner of their eye. Soft-shell didn't respond, and if anything, he snorted softly as he closed the entrance and sat down next to the teenager who was currently sitting on the floor, leaning against their bed while watching an anime he wasn't familiar with yet. "Everything okay?" They asked, this time giving theri full attention to the boy next to them. His face indicated negative emotions, which worried [Y.N.] a bit.

"Not really." that's all that came out of the boy's mouth as he tucked his hands into his pockets and rested his head on their shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know."

◇Now you were quite worried about your boyfriend. Something must have happened, and Donnie needed comfort.

◇You suggested rewatching his favorite series where Atomic Lass appeared, and the boy agreed.

◇You knew that this character was his childhood idol, and knowing from your experiences, every child would want to hear something nice from their favorite character, so you decided to take a risk.

"You can do it, Donnie!"

◇You felt the boy shudder, and he immediately pulled away to look at you with disbelief written on those artificial eyebrows. He had known about your skills for a long time, but usually, they were used for ordinary jokes.

◇You smiled slightly, leaning closer to the turtle.

"Now, will you tell me what happened?"

◇And miraculously, it worked. Your boyfriend struggled a bit, but he finally shared what was bothering him, allowing you to support him.

◇And then there was fun with voice imitations again.

"Oh, oh! Do Dio! Or Gojo!"

Michelangelo

◇Mikey knew from the very beginning of your relationship that you had excellent voice imitation skills.

◇He even used that (with your permission, of course) to dub his webcomics!

◇However, other than that, you didn't use this skill until now.

◇Because your boyfriend was going through a slight breakdown related to drawing, specifically facing an art block.

◇So when he once again threw his pencil and started acting like a sulking child over the lack of a lollipop, you decided to step in.

◇Knowing that one of his comfort characters is Yatora Yaguchi, you decided to imitate him right then.

"Give yourself some time, Mikey!"

◇He looked at you slightly surprised from behind his shoulders, and a moment later, he smiled warmly.

◇Honestly, comforting Mikey is the easiest thing, so after a while, he took a break to spend time with you.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise donnie x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x y/n #rottmnt x you #rise leo x reader #rise mikey x reader #rise raph x reader #rottmnt x reader #headcanons

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sleepyficss · 7 days

Note

taco (ii) x reader headcanons? general headcanons would be nice, although if you could include ones involving reader having a cutesy girly gender presentation + having BPD and NPD that would be even better. please and thank you :3

taco, bpd & npd headcanons!

taco x reader, fluff

authors note:

as my first actual request, thank you so much!! the fact that its for taco, too <33 i don't have either bpd nor npd myself, but i will try my hardest to make it accurate!! + by general, i wasn't sure whether you meant romantic or not, so i left it up in the air. could be read as either.

- written as post-ii season 2 in mind (so don't blame me if she seems inaccurate in a few episodes time lolol)

- taco has struggled a lot with her own relationships over the last few years, so the fact that you've gotten this close with her? she must really trust you.

- she's honestly terrified of you leaving her, considering the number of people who have done exactly that in the past (although, it hadn't been unwarranted...)

- swears to do whatever she can to keep you from leaving her, especially since you might be one of the very few people she has left.

- because of this, she completely understands it when you're afraid of the possibility of abandonment – but you learn to work through it together.

- she loves to remind you of how much you mean to her, that she wouldn't want you to be any different than the way you currently are <3

- the last thing she wants is for you to feel that you aren't good enough, or to have bad self-images of yourself.

- makes SURE that you know her opinion of you is highly regarded, that she loves you for you, no matter if you've had a bad week.

- taco has definitely picked up on any micro-expressions, or usually unseen habits you have that reveal the way you're feeling; especially for times that you struggle more to show those emotions.

- in turn, she's learned how to keep her own emotions in check. taco is a very grounded person, and knows how to keep calm in most situations, and will often be the one to sort out difficult situations that involve either, or both, of you.

- of course, she has her own triggers that may set her off. as long as you're there to remind her that she has you, and that the past is the past, and it can't be changed, she'll calm down enough to listen to you.

- she's a very patient person, and takes pride in understanding other people easily.

- if you're ever having a difficult day, or particularly bad 'flare-ups', taco understands not to always take any harsh words you say to heart. most of the time, she knows you don't really mean them anyways.

- she'll always wait for you to have calmed down to talk things through with you. trying to talk while hot-headed will only make things worse, she of all people knows that.

- at the end of the week, though, all she wants to do is sit down with you and relax.

- whether thats having sort of a parallel-play with each other (where she'll often read a book, or do some sort of puzzle, while you do your own activities), or you'll simply talk to each other for hours, about anything and everything.

- she's almost clingy herself, wanting to spend most of her free time with you when there's nothing else to do.

- taco isn't the type to admit it, but she enjoys seeing the outfits you come up with, complimenting you any chance she gets.

- if you ask her for ideas (in terms of what you should wear, what colour you should do your nails, etc), she'll be at a bit of a loss. she won't be much help in that department, you're better off giving her a few options to choose from, first.

- i can imagine you'd be able to convince her to match a bowtie to your outfit, though. you two would be the cutest !!

- if either of you have days where you feel almost too tired to get out of bed, the other will be happy to join in setting up the couch with blankets and pillows, and turning the television on to a show that both of you enjoy.

- taco just wants a cosy life, now that she's put her past 'plans' way behind her, and would be happy to spend every day with you.

#inanimate insanity #ii taco #taco x reader #inanimate insanity x reader #fluff #inanimate insanity taco #ii taco x reader #inanimate insanity taco x reader #reader

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illleavemymessageinmysong · 7 months

Text

same love hey diddle the mess name and address playboy to a man i’m carrying San ferry anne if you wanna love in song struggle arrow through me the other me no more lonely nights twice in a lifetime write away this one my brave face footprints secret friend I do the lovers that never were so like candy demons dance turned out lifelong passion anyway looking at her souvenir long-tailed winter bird only love remains sixty second street hosanna nothing too much just out of sight off the ground hope of deliverance say say say getting closer to you get enough beware my love cage 4th of july

So many songs about, or more often, addressed to, an ex. Of course , some, from before John’s death, might be messages to him, under the cover of a relationship song format. Not included here but I think ‘Coming Up’ is a John song. ‘Call Me Back Again’, if it’s about anybody, might be John. Linda, of course, is a massive presence in his songs. Some of them here might well be about contemporary events with Heather, Nancy. Some, of course, might just be words to fit a tune.

It’s the accumulation, though. Also, I think, a sense of distance: distance in time and in place from the person being addressed.

Yet, in all the articles and blogs written about Paul, many of which are great, this is not addressed at all. As someone commented on a YouTube video of one of these songs: “Sometimes I don’t know how people don’t pick up on what Paul is putting down”. There are, of course, people here and there who have picked up on this and whose thoughts have influenced my own on this subject.

Within these songs, there are some recurring themes that we can go on to have a look at. In the meantime, a lyrics jumble:

If I give my love again to you, will it be the same love that we once thought was true….hey diddle, I want you back.. I wouldn't make her her wooden table, I wouldn't care…. you sailed away one night in June..the mess I’m in…. you packed a bag, and like a birdie flew away, meanwhile, I'm sitting here, I'm getting in a mess…. you had your own way one too many times and now you’re going to find out what it`s like, just what it`s like, now you`re a mess….

by dawn’s first light I’ll come back to your room again..ah, long time no see baby sure has been a while…. your little man brings you trinkets when he can, but he can't stay, dear…. If you wanna love me again, I’ll take you for a ride in my Cadillac….my heart cries out for love..I can see the places that we used to go to now….want to get you in my heart again, want to love you once more..we can work it out together, we'll get through this somehow….

you couldn't have done a worse thing to me if you'da taken an arrow and run it right through me…. I know I was a crazy fool for treating you the way I did.. I wish that I could take it back..and if you let me try again, I'll have a better attitude…. I can wait another day until I call you.. and I won't go away until you tell me so, no I'll never go away…. once in a lifetime I'm a lucky man If I can find the kind of love that’s gonna last for me, twice in a lifetime is one of those unspoken dreams we usually reserve for fantasy…. you need love, write a letter, you need love write away..hey Cinderella, did you need that other fella…. did I ever take you in my arms, look you in the eye, tell you that I do?….

ever since you went away, i’ve had this sentimental inclination not to change a single thing.. ever since you left I have been trying to compose a 'baby will you please come home' note meant for you…. but his heart keeps aching in the same old way, he can't help feeling that she might come back someday….

here we are, where are we, cast adrift on some uncharted sea..I know we'll find our way, i know we'll reach the end if you will say you'll be my secret friend…. please remember this, after a time it's through and nevermore will there be days for me and you…. I hang patiently on every word you send, will we ever be much more than just friends?.. and I know dear, how much it's going to hurt, If you still refuse to get your hands dirty, so you, you must tell me something... I love you, say goodbye or anything…. what did I do to make her go, why must she be the one that I have to love so….

I can't wait much longer till you tell me baby, there’s some chance we'll get together maybe sooner or later, I'll be in with half a chance.. exorcise my demons, cast them out today, only you can do it, make them go away…. if you don't mind some stormy weather, we’ll be together in our fantasy..looking back it didn't hurt me, it did something for my soul, it taught me when you find a love don’t break it…. step into the misty mountains with your hair like ambered honey..give me love, be my lifelong passion…. If you love me, won't you call me, I’ve been waiting, waiting too long..in my soul is constant yearning, always singing, singing this song…. she’s good, she's kind, she's so refined but me, I'm losing my mind..though she haunts me like the sound of the rain, or a river running down to the ocean, I hate to complain, but it's happening again….

If you want me, tell me now, if I can be of any help, tell me how, let me love you like a friend, everything is gonna come right in the end…. do you, do-do, do you miss me? Do you, do-do, do you feel me?…. and if you take your love away from me, I’m only going to want it back.. to bring a happy ending to our song, I’ll carry on believing in a love…. well you could make my life complete, if you say that we could meet,for a minute on sixty second street…. come now lady don't you do me wrong.I fell for you and now it wont be long, before I hold you in my arms, before I take you to my heart again…. I said I love you I thought you knew, the last thing to do was to try to betray me, the new morning light, I'll never forget it….

there must have been a lot of heartache for you to sink so low.. I need loving, you need loving too..wouldn’t take a lot to get off the ground…. I will always be hoping, hoping you will always be holding my heart in your hand…. all alone I sit home by the phone waiting for you baby..through the years how can you stand to hear my pleading for you dear?…. when will you see me, my salamander..now don't try to tell me, oh no, don't answer, oh no, I’m getting closer, I’m getting closer to your heart….

well if the same thing happened to you, will you still put me through what you put me through?…. it was a time when we walked by the docks, I told you, "I need you all of my life" and watching the tugs rolling by together, do you remember?..do you remember the lights on the shore, how they reflected the rain on the road? I believed that you love me alone, it was real, do you remember?.. get enough, girlI can't get enough, enough of you…. I have to leave and when I'm gone, I’ll leave my message in my song…. emotional moments, you left in a rage, but if you could love me now I wouldn’t be in a cage..dramatic performance, direct from the stage but if you could get me out, I wouldn’t be in a cage….sunset’s painting up the sky, there’s something in my eye, why am I crying, it’s the 4th of july.. could it have something to do with the fact that I've been feeling blue since friday..you came in with him again and, suddenly, I knew it wasn't my day..why am I crying, it’s the fourth of July….

#paul mccartney

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lunazuniga-smith · 1 year

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What to Expect When You're Expecting Who: Luna Smith & Dr. Leonard When: Saturday, June 10th, 2023 What: Luna gets some unexpected news Tagging: @detkhamani

Luna kicked her feet back and forth as she sat up waiting for her doctor to come in. The nurse's had taken care of her dip-stick and her vitals. For the last couple of weeks, the high-risk reproductive doctor had been monitoring Luna every couple of days, taking her bloods, checking her A1C, and checking her hormones. The last two cycles didn't go too well and the doctor had reassured her they usually wait for four more before considering fertility treatments. This cycle, she decided not to think about it too much. Luna had a few things going on with the court hearing for Cannon and prepping for other family matters. Between that and work and raising a toddler, she had fallen into a comfortable ryhthm. As always, the dip-stick was performed as a precautionary measure. At this appointment, she'd have her pap since her annual was due anyway. It wouldn't be a big appointment and hopefully she'd be back home to surprise the boys with lunch in no time. When she heard the knock on the door, Luna smiled and let the doctor know he could come in.

"Luna. Always a pleasure." Dr. Leonard smiled at his patient and then sat by his mobile computer to log into the hospital database. "Your sugars are great by the way and your last labs were phenomenal. How are you feeling?"

"Fine! I've cut out sugar from my coffee and I've taking sugar free creamer instead. It's helped a lot."

"Excellent. That does come a long way sometimes." He began typing away. "And nurse Elena tells me your cycles have been a bit wonky?"

She nodded. "Mm hmm. I'm assuming from the ovulation medication?"

"mmm I'm not too sure. It shouldn't be messing with it too much. Did we run a dip stick last month?"

"No. My annual is today so you said it wasn't actually necessary until today's appointment and since nothing was really changing. Pregnancy tests have been negative at home so..."

"Luna, when was the first day of your last cycle?" He looked up from his typing with concern written all over his face.

"What? Uh...Sorry, Dr. Leonard I haven't been keeping track. The hearing and finding a summer camp but I spotted pink last month around ...the first week of May?"

"And how long did that last?"

"I don't know. three days maybe?"

"I see. When did you do an HPT last?"

Luna pulled out her phone and pulled up her woman's cycle log. "Last month? I promise I'll get better at tracking but there's no way I'm pregnant because the ones I have done have been negative and I got my period so..."

There was another knock on the door and Elena came in, waving at Luna with a smile from ear to ear. She sat beside the doctor and asked him to pull up the labs tab on Luna's chart. "Oh your dip stick is back." the doctor reassured her once more that her A1C looked fantastic at a steady 5.1 and then he got quiet."

"What is it?" Luna perked up as if she could look over the monitor somehow.

"Luna...you're pregnant." He smiled widely at his patient and nurse Elena cheered. "Of course on the appointment Khamani isn't here for!"

Luna's eyes widened and she stated blankly at the doctor and nurse. "That's impossible. My hpts have been negative and I got my period. I don't understand. "

"Well, mostly likely you're very early and with your cycles being out of wack, it's very possible that you're easily four weeks or so. Elena ordered a sonogram so we're just waiting for the machine and we'll get to it!" Dr. Leonard asked his nurse to bring in what he needed and then asked Luna to lie down. "It's early yet so we won't be able to pick up a heart beat most likely so just bear with us. I want to make sure we see what we need to see and then I'll want you to come back when you're able 8 weeks or so. Okay?"

"This is...this is a lot. I want Khamani here for this. I--I'm not ready. I haven't done anything and I was supposed get on more insulin. What if the baby is not okay?" She felt the tears fill up her eyes and Dr. Leonard planced his hands on her shoulders.

"Luna. One thing at a time. Remember? Just like we spoke about when Khamani was here. He'll be here for the heartbeat, ok? I just want to make sure you're doing alright and we'll go from there. This is a happy time." He pulled a tissue from the tissuebox beside him and handed her one.

After wiping her tears and nodding at the doctor's words, Luna lied down, glancing from her position toward the sonogram machine being rolled in. She wanted her family here with her. This wasn't how she expected any of this to go down.

"You're going to feel some cold jelly over your belly. We'll start with a transabdominal before we use the probe, okay?"

"Okay." Luna sniffled and looked over to the screen. As much as she wanted to be happy, she was scared and that only heightened when she caught the change of expression on the doctor's face. "What's wrong? Something's wrong?" She couldn't decide if that was a question or a statement. In that moment, Luna was glad for Elena who came to hold her hand.

"Eveything's okay." Elena whispered, eyes on the screen and a smiled pulling at her lips. "Luna...there's your baby."

Dr. Leonard smiled at his nurse and pointed to the little spot don't he screen. "Gestational sac and pole..." He measured the screen and then stopped. "And that right there is your baby, Luna."

Luna was full on crying, squeezing her nurse's hand tight. "My baby. Our baby. How is that possible? I thought it was too early."

The doctor didn't respond at first and asked Luna to move forward on the stirrups so he can perform the second part of the ultrasound. "Actually..." He looked back at the screen and pointed with his free hand. "Looks like you're about ten weeks today. Are we doing okay?"

He looked up at his patient that had completely passed out and Dr. Leonard quickly ended the ultrasound and asked his nurse to bring her water and a few compresses.

"And please call Khamani at the emergency number!"

Ten whole weeks.

#para: expecting

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anvoo · 2 years

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Thoughts, and updates on how I'm doing

I'll try having contrasting hot/cold showers, and see if it's any better than just my usual hot-water-ones.

I haven't been sleeping well for the past few days, but at least I'm going to bed and waking up at normal-ish times.

Sometimes I'm afraid of not finishing ALL my plans or not doing as well as I hoped, so I end up just not starting. Sometimes I get distracted easily and end up procrastinating and/or making up excuses to not do something. Sometimes I feel tired, demotivated, and down, and I just lose sight of my goals and wants, and spend the day just passing the time.

I have a lot of bad habits and thought patterns that I'm trying to work on, but it's a slow-and-steady kinda thing - my least favorite xD. I always hated waiting and not getting what I wanted immediately, but that's just how it is I guess. I can't rush some stuff no matter how hard I think about them or try to force them.

I have enough to spare when something "needs and comes with time". But on the other hand, I can't afford to wait on something and be stuck in one place. I can't afford to wait until the ideal conditions are met; to wait until I wake up feeling motivated, refreshed, and energized to get a move on with my plans; to wait until whatever it is that is troubling me completely goes away after hours of me thinking and wrestling with it in my head. I'm becoming more at peace with the fact that things won't always (and probably most of the time) be ideal and exactly what I hoped for, and that's ok.

I'm breaking things down more and learning to be more satisfied and content with my progress and accomplishments. Less black-and-white, all-or-nothing thinking. There are many facets to life, and all the little happiness adds up.

Being critical of yourself to avoid stagnation is great, but moderation is key, the same goes for everything. When being self-critical exhausts you and tears down your motivation, that's probably a bit too much v.v In conclusion, I'm trying and learning still. Things aren't easy and comfortable, but I don't want and expect them to be anyways! I believe in myself, being capable of navigating through this and coming out on top. Everything's a journey, and journeys take time, so I'll be patient and take mine too.

#journal #diary #writing #self reflection #thoughts #a little bit tired but that's ok #motivation #art

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starlightiing · 2 months

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hey jess! 5, 12 and 19 pls <3

Hey hey! Thanks for these!!

What made you start your blog?

Weeeeeelll this blog has been around for about 15 years now. I started it, believe it or not, as a Big Time Rush blog ahaha right in the middle of their heyday! But I didn't start it JUST for BTR, I started it because most of my friends from livejournal and greatestjournal had moved over here so I wanted to check it out.

What is some good advice that you want to share?

Oof, it's very cliche but: time heals wounds. Any wound. It doesn't mean it will ever COMPLETELY heal the wound - some wounds will never be healed (ie; grief). But time does help heal you and it does make things easier to deal with. In the moment, it feels like nothing will ever be okay again. In the moment, it feels like it's crawling underneath your skin and you'll never catch it and get it out. In the moment, you can't possibly see an end in sight - but there is one. Time. I am not a patient person and I forget this advice myself every time I go through something awful - but it WILL be okay again. It will. It always will be okay again. Try to tell that to yourself the next time you're going through something really hard. "I know this is hard now and that I'm struggling, but it won't be like this forever. Things will change. Give it time." I've been around a while and I've been through some horrors I'd rather not go into, and I can confirm that every single time, it got better. I just had to wait a little bit and hang on.

Favorite thing about the day?

Going to bed. NO IM KIDDING. I actually hate going to bed, that's when my anxiety is at an all time high, right after waking up anyway. My favorite thing about the day is when I get to talk to Stu! He's off of work at 6pm his time which is 1pm for me, and I usually sneak in a little chat with him before he starts streaming F1 games for the server <333 That's the best part. I also do like the early evening as well - typically he's gone to bed but a few of my friends wake up and start streaming.

#ask games

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minifrenchfry-kabbit · 1 year

Text

It certainly didn't feel like a day that would result in a near-death event.

In fact, Benji had felt more calm and at peace than he had in weeks, patiently waiting for his charge to wrap up her study group so he could take her home. It'd been too nice of an early evening to wait in the car, so he'd been leaning against the passenger door, arms crossed and eyes closed.

This side of town usually proved safe enough for him, so he didn't think much of letting his guard down, enjoying the cooling breeze ruffling through his fur, thankful that the oppressive heat of the summer was finally being usurped by the encroaching autumn.

His focus was elsewhere, considering what to do with night off he had to look forward to. If Lopey managed to finish her assignments, maybe they could pick up a few movies, and some snacks on the way home for them all to enjoy.

They hadn't had a real family night since their beach trip during her break from school, and with no shift to work or plans set in stone, being sweets-binging couch potatoes was an enticing start to the weekend. Maybe even Pup could play hooky from the kiosk and join their lazy lump fest, he could always send a text while he waited, to see if he'd be interested.

And even if he didn't, maybe he'd work up the gumption to finally have that talk with Fynn.. once Penny had succumbed to the inevitable sugar coma.

He'd try anyway. He was about sick to death of his own cowardice on that front.

With a quiet sigh, he pulled his phone from his jeans' pocket and started on that invite text to Rohan, when he was abruptly halted by a cloyingly sweet stench in the air, horrifyingly familiar and nearly making him reflexively gag on the reek of it.

The shakes began immediately, and his phone went crashing to the pavement, the licorice scent fogging his senses, making his attempts to get back into his car to escape it ineffectual.

What rational thought was left, was shattered by the source of the sweet miasma making herself known, suddenly feeling himself being slammed back against the car by a much shorter figure, accosted by a ripping grip to his shoulder fur, and a pair of hateful yellow-purple eyes.

Absolutely paralyzed with shock and fear, her malicious voice barely penetrated the traumatic haze that clouded his mind, trembling paw clawing, fumbling at the door handle to try and retreat, though she'd leaned her hip against it to prevent it from opening, even if his desperation eventually lent him some capability in operating it.

"You better fucking listen to me when I'm talking to you, rapist Rusty! I don't know how, but I know you're responsible for it! You won't get away with it, I'm going to make you pay for hurting my boys!! YOU HEAR ME??"

Her voice was a snarl and her nose was wrinkled with disdain and rage, eyes burning with malice. Even if her words weren't muffled by sheer panic and his brain trying to shut itself down from the rising trauma, he'd have absolutely no clue what she was insinuating.

Before he could attempt to formulate a response, anything.. ANYTHING to get her mind-breaking candy scent and horrifyingly familiar weight off of him before his soul gave out from the hysteria rooting him in place -.. she was suddenly gone.

Ripped away from him with a vicious scream and yelping from a sudden assault of her own, Benji staring at the fight taking place in front of him without at first comprehending that it was Penny who had come in like a little bat from hell to pull Josephine off of him.

No sooner than this fact had pierced the trauma fog of his brain, that the thrashing combatants had edged closer to the semi-busy street, noticing the flash of a switch-blade his former tormentor had pulled from a pocket, bleeding from several scratch wounds and clearly intent to inflict some damage of her own, her shrieking unintelligible.

White-hot rage surged through him, overpowering the ice that had kept him paralyzed, and he charged toward the two to snatch Josephine's knife-hand moments before she attempted to put it to deadly use, gripping tight and wrenching the arm up toward the air as far away from his charge that he could manage.

The need to protect overpowered his terror of her, and he wrestled to try and gain control of the knife, fully prepared to break the bitch's fingers if it meant the weapon was no longer a threat.

In the midst of the chaos, Penny - whom had still been trying to assist him in disarming their dangerous assailant, was savagely kicked into the street in the path of a fast-encroaching car, and with a roar of equal rage and dismay, Benji yanked them both into the street to try and reach the prone, stunned teenager.

"LOPEY!! THE CAR!! .. GRK..!"

Taking advantage of his preoccupation with Penny, the same knife was re-seized and plunged into his side, it's wielder desperate for the freedom to get out of the path of the car that had swerved around the girl, and was careening for them both, going far too fast for the brakes to be utilized in time to circumvent disaster.

The shock of excruciating pain was more than enough for the smaller rabbit to slip free of his grasp, just as the furiously honking car, with a too-late squealing of over-taxed bald tires, slammed into them.

Benji had tried to lurch out of the way - he was sure of it, desperation for his own life and the ever-prioritized life he was tied to, ticking down in the seemingly contradictory eternal and fleeting seconds before the car made impact... but it wasn't enough.

Pain the likes of which he'd never felt before as the car simultaneously struck and he was bodily thrown over the hood, and top of the car, crashing hard onto the asphalt behind, that knocked the wind out of him, wheezing and rolling onto his side, vision and hearing blurring and deadening down to a muffle.

His ears were ringing from the force of which his head had met tarmac, and he was vaguely aware of a warm ooze of pooling magenta blood soaking into the fur of his cheek. The pain was so intense that it was beginning to numb, shock setting in as he lay there, wheezing around newly broken ribs.

There was a cacophony of chaos around him that he was oblivious to, blissful black invading the corners of blurred vision, before his eyes were forced to shut, vaguely wondering as they closed, if they would ever open again.

A wheezed apology was uttered into the bloody gravel before his consciousness was completely stolen away, unaware of anything else that centered around his rescue and emergency triage.

---

The next he woke, he was hooked up to beeping machines, and only able to see his heavily bandaged body through one blurry eye, feeling stuffy gauze wrapping the other half of his face and limiting his vision.

Pain was muted due to the painkillers being pumped directly into his soul, the same of which he could feel would soon be putting him back under in a medicated coma.

His immobilized arm was slung against his bandaged chest, one leg casted and hung up in a medical hammock to keep movement limited, and every wheezed breath stung like fire.

He recognized that feeling at least.. his ribs had been rebroken, among the rest of the currently insurmountable damage that had been done via car and knife.

But.. he was alive.

The allaying thought drifted through his quickly-fading mind, a sudden flare of panic making him reflexively try to rise, when he remembered that Penny had narrowly avoided being hit herself, with a sudden desperation for assurance that she had fared better in the aftermath than he had.

Unfortunately, the tsunami of pain that struck from even his feeble attempt to move from his sickbed, made him black out anew, visible eye rolling back as his bandaged head lolled toward his shoulder, the rising crescendo of harrowing beeping lulling back to a more neutral rhythm as he unwillingly slept.

#🐇

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ladyazulina · 1 year

Text

✧‧͙⁺˚･ Outside World Adventure ･˚⁺‧͙✧

Main Quest: Go out and come back victorious!

So, I already talked about the Part 1, and the last time was about the Part 2.

Let's finish it with the last part, all right?

Part 3: Take a public car just outside the audiologist to get back to the main avenue.

You probably won't know this, but I'm really bad at doing new things, especially if I have to do them alone. In theory, I knew how it worked. In practice... well, that's another story, but I was trying to do my best that day and, seriously, I didn't have any other way to get back home without that route that wouldn't include walking a freaking long way that my ankles won't be able to bear.

So, I waited outside.

For a public car to appear.

I waited for probably not a long time, but for my undistracted mind, it seemed a lot.

One car passed, but wasn't doing the route I needed. I had to wait more.

When the second passed, I knew why it didn't work with the first one. The driver was so nice. They asked what was my intended destination and though I didn't say the exact thing, I referenced closer points and they wanted to make sure I was using the better route. I was, though. They concluded that after a little chat.

The ride was smooth after that.

Side Quest #5: Stop to buy a delicious croissant ❌ I wanted to, but I also wanted to get home asap. The heat of summer isn't a joke.

I reached the main avenue! So that made Part 3 of 3: Take a public car just outside the audiologist to get back to the main avenue ✅

But that wasn't the end.

I went to the bus stop. Waited patiently for my bus. Mounted it. And... well...

🎉 Surprise Part 4: Let the bus driver know when you need to GET DOWN!

People with anxiety understand this.

The button to call for the stop wasn't working on that exact bus, so I needed to raise my voice above all the noise to be heard. And I'm barely heard in my own house. It was going to be tricky, so I started to muster the courage from the first moment I noticed that.

I would love to say I was successful.

There are a lot of ways to suffer anxiety during a bus ride, but fortunately, that was my only source. I was already tired from my whole trip outside, so it was quickly becoming my last straw as well.

I did cry out on time for my stop.

The driver didn't stop, though.

When that happens, I usually start angrily crying. The next stop is like 10-15 minutes away from mine, and I was tired, but at least someone was getting down at the next stop, so I only had to walk 10-15 minutes more than my usual 5-10 minutes to get home.

The surprise part wasn't accounted for in my premade list, so I didn't feel as bad when I wasn't successful there. I anyway was successful in the main quest and that was the real intention. So...

Main Quest: Go out and come back victorious! ✅

Let me know if you want to know more about my outside quests! I would love to share 💙

#azu's adventures #in the real world #writers life #in real life #real life #outside adventure #outside world adventure

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ticklish-n-stuff · 2 years

Text

Insecurities

Ok so like ya know what I find attractive? Crop tops. Y'know what else I find attractive? ...stupid Akito KDJSKSHSJSH. Look I know this bastard has caused me a lot of pain but I can't help but fall head over heels for him🥺🧡🥞. Anyways, my brain was like 'why not combine the two and make Akito wear a cropped outfit'. So that's what I'm doing! Also, have y'all listened to the new VBS archive?? Those boys sound fcking awesome!! Toya sounds amazing like always but like...can we take a moment to appreciate Akito's vocals??! Like he absolutely ate that song up!!

Also I just wanna say tysm for 80 followers🥺💖

Ok I'm done with my rant, hope y'all enjoy~!

___________________________________________

Akito x Toya (romantic fufufu :3)

Lee: Akito

Ler: Toya

Warnings: Tickles!

___________________________________________

It was a normal day at the Shinonome household. Akito was currently trying on a new outfit he had gotten the other day while Toya patiently waited for him to reveal the final look. The redhead then walked into the room, wearing a cropped hoodie which exposed all of his tummy. Toya smiled at him in adoration, he couldn't help but think that Akito looked cute in whatever he wore. "It looks nice".

"Thanks..." Akito shifted awkwardly in place as a blush spreaded across his cheeks.

"Is something wrong?".

"I don't know, I guess it's just a bit too revealing..".

It was uncharacteristic of the redhead to feel embarrassed about something, and Toya didn't like it one bit. Suddenly, he tought of a fun and playful tactic to get rid of his boyfriend's worries. He gently guided him by the hand to his bed, softly pushing him down to lie on his back. Akito's face instantly flushed when Toya took a seat along his waist. "W-what are you doing?!".

"I'm just here to tell you that there's nothing to worry about. Plus, now I have easier access to do this~" and just like that, Toya's fingers latched onto Akito's exposed sides, softly wiggling away at the ticklish skin.

"Pfft! Ahahahahaha! T-Toya nahahahaha!" Akito tried swatting away at Toya's hands but he wouldn't budge, not that he minded of course. The bicolored haired male then proceeded to climb his fingers up to Akito's lower ribs, playfully digging in between them. "GyAh! Nahahat thehehere!!" silly Akito tried covering up his bashful smile with one hand while trying to grab at Toya's wrists with his other one. His face all the way down to his neck was fully red tomato.

"Now that just won't do. Let me see that smile~" teased Toya as he trailed his fingers down to Akito's tummy.

The redhead instantly let out a high pitched squeal, his giggles getting more frantic. "NaHAhahaHA! Thahat's even wohorse!!" he kicked his legs out as he threw his head back in laughter. Toya continued to playfully scribble all over Akito's tummy, enjoying all the cute laughs and squeals his boyfriend produced. He then proceeded to circle his index finger around Akito's navel. "NohoHO! NaHAt theHehere!" poor Akito bucked his hips and tried sucking in his stomach, but the crop top was putting him at a big disadvantage.

"Tickle tickle~" teased out Toya as he playfully wiggled his finger inside his bellybutton.

"NAHAHAHAHA! Y-YOU JEHEHERK!" Akito screeched in laughter as he tugged on his hair, he was too ticklish for his own good. Toya kept tormenting the sensitive 'lil spot as poor Akito got lost in his boisterous laughter, his bright smiled exposed for everyone to see. His eyes were getting a bit teary and his hair was a complete mess from all his squirming, but of course Toya wasn't done with him yet.

"I'm gonna go for your worst spot now, prepare yourself" he warned with his usual stoic expression, but there was a small smirk at the corner of his lip. Toya then proceeded to lower Akito's pants just a bit to better reveal his waist. He then got to work by massaging deep circles into his partner's hipbones.

"GYAH! TOYA NAHAHAHAHA!" if he wasn't losing his shit before, he definitely was now. Akito screamed in laughter and thrashed around but Toya's stubborn hands kept tickling away at that dreaded spot.

"It's so cute how ticklish you are here" mused Toya out loud as he smiled down at his partner fondly.

"S-SHUT UHUHUP! AHAHAHAHAHA!".

As much fun Akito was having, Toya didn't want to overdo it. So he slowed his fingers to a stop, opting to rub at the redhead's bare tummy lovingly. Akito quickly gasped for air, his chest heaved as aftermath giggles spilled out of him like a waterfall. He was so lost in his giggle frenzy he honestly forgot what he was so worried about. It was nice to have a kind partner help tickle his insecurities out of him.

___________________________________________

I wrote this on two hours of sleep aksjsjdhsh. Akito come cuddle me so I can finally get some rest 😴

My brain kinda just stopped working towards the end but I still think it ended up pretty good~

#project sekai #tickle #colorful stage #colorful stage tickle #project sekai tickle #tickle fic #fic #colorful stage tickle fic #project sekai tickle fic #akito shinonome #toya aoyagi #lee!akito #ler!toya #akitoya #akitoya brainrot

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evacado3 · 3 years

Note

I’m simping hard for samuel 😭😅😱 can I Nsfw for him anything is fine

Oh look what we have here~ Ngl I was literally think about this in class, and it’s my first time writing actual nsfw soooo it might be a little awkward, bare with me lmao 🤣

Make Me Yours

Warning: nsfw, mentions of yandere behavior

Word count: 760

He's staring again, you took a deep breath, recalling the past few days where you've caught Samuel looking a little longer than normal. Honestly you didn't mind, you wanted to know what made him like this, and what you should do to make him look at you more.

But the stack of work in front of you cut off your ideas, there's no way he's making you hand it all in tomorrow. Does he know what the word mercy means?

"Why are you still here."

That was more of a statement than a question, he adjusted his glasses before walking over to your desk.

"Uh, cause I haven't finished work?" you tilted your head, a bit confused about where this conversation's going.

"No, I'm asking why are you in this company." he leaned forwards to you, giving a perfect view of his cold eyes.

Eyes of a born leader, no, dictator.

You gulped, not anyone would understand what he meant, but you knew well just what he's trying to say. Did he find out?

Find out about you're obsessed with him? Oh he knew that well, since the golden age of Big Deal, he's always spotted you around.

Being unhealthily obsessed is one thing, but the unwillingness to change is the real problem. The things you'd do just to be in his arms are preposterous, and so is your behavior.

From following him to all the way to Workers without a guaranteed position, working your own way up to assistant manager just for him to acknowledge you have been nothing but amusing to Samuel. Of course, he knows all your efforts, it was him who recommended you to the boss anyways.

"T-that's a weird question director, are you tired? Maybe you should go home first." you chuckled, so what if he knows, would he make a move? Obviously not, why would someone like him want to touch you?

His scent flowed to your nose which you had to resist taking a sniff. He smiled, a really fake smile, "Miss y/n, I think you comprehend me perfectly, is there an issue as to why you won't answer me?"

Now he's just teasing you, after a long day at work, you could slightly see the makeup fading away. His neck tattoos were slowly revealing themselves.

Samuel honestly didn't know what fueled him to make theses actions at this moment, all he knows right now is that your perfume smelt sweeter than usual. Bending down even more, his nose almost touching yours, he stared.

"Director?" you snapped him out of trance, he cleared his throat loudly before replying.

"Are you finished?"

-----

He flattened out his tongue on the crook of your neck, broken moans escaping from you in satisfaction.

You forgot how you ended up there, spread out nicely on his desk, waiting to be pleasured.

"I-hmm I never thought you would be interested," you breathed out, his hands busy fiddling with your bra. The blouse was already out of the way, his shirt torn in desperation, even his glasses were nowhere to be found.

"Sweetheart, you were the one who never approached me, was watching from afar that fun?" he whispered in your ears, hands trailing from your back to waist, squeezing softly.

Busted, Samuel has always knew. You whined in embarrassment, his grin didn't help you feel better about yourself. His hair was back down the way it was when he was still in the Gangseo Union, you didn't realize just how much you missed it.

He proceeded to connect his lips with yours, indulging you in a rough and passionate kiss. The faint taste of cigarettes laid on his tongue, looks like he never quitted smoking after all.

All that elegant facade to lure in clients has blinded you from his actual character. They say old habits die hard, they weren't lying.

Groaning lowly in your mouth, Samuel couldn't wait anymore, he was never a patient person to begin with. He could see you can't wait as well from the soft pleas falling out of your mouth.

"You're enjoying this a little too much aren't you," he taunted while unzipping his pants.

Bullshit, if you've waited after the same dick for years, naturally you'd be eager when he's finally in your palm.

"Put it in already," you gave out a needy cry, rubbing your thighs together to give yourself some pressure.

"What should I do, should I make you my little girlfriend?" he hummed, tearing your skirt apart to display your wet panties.

"Fuck Samuel, just make me yours already."

"Your wish is my command."

====================

Andddd my job here is done, please imagine the rest, I still can't write a full smut, man I'm getting there ok DO NOT JUDGE MY SMUT BROS

Sometimes I forget Samuel's a two faced bitch with a really pretty smile

#lookism samuel #samuel webtoon #seo seongun #samuel seo x reader #samuel seo #lookism x reader #lookism #webtoon lookism #samuel #come pray with me besties #fics

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 4 years

Text

It’s very ambiguous

Pairing: Loki x reader (gender neutral)

Summary: You have finally come to age; your soulmate mark draws itself in your skin. You can't figure out who it connects you with, but, oh dear, you can only hope and wish it is to him. But Loki won't make it easy for you to find out. Will you both overcome the pride and fear that would involve your love?

Word count: 4.6 K

Warnings: a bit of angst. (English is not my mother tongue and it’s my first time writing fanfiction in english, so forgive me if there’s any errors, and feel free to correct them!)

Sighing at your reflection, you stared for the Norns know how long to the fresh image that drew itself in the side of your abdomen.

You thanked it was easy to hide; saving you endless mockery from your friends if they saw that. The vivid portrayal of who you loved the most, in the most ambiguous drawing you could’ve ever gotten. How ironic.

What the Heavens would that mean, you asked yourself at least five times until the impatient knocking on the bathroom door pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Hurry up, we’re late”, said Sif. You knew she was already all dressed up for the Ball, and she would kill you, seeing you were still on your robes. You opened the bathroom door slowly, with burrowed frows. You couldn’t hide it, as much as you tried to. “Oh, for God’s sa…” she started complaining, but stopped as soon as she realized you were in a terrible state of mind.

“I got it”, you explained after she made you get out of the bathroom and sat you on the edge of the bed. “I got the mark. Impossible to guess”.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll know who they is when the time is right”, said she, comforting you and eyeing the outfit you’d chosen earlier. “But crytime is over. Guess what time it is now. Yes, you guessed right. The Ball”.

The last thing you wanted to do in that moment was to dance; or to stay in a chair drinking wine the entirety of the night, for that matter. You didn’t need another reminder of your frustrated attempts at making him notice you. And you knew he wasn’t the one (if he were your soulmate, it would’ve already happened years; no, decades ago). But you still couldn’t help but falling in love at every little smirk, every little comment, every little thing he did. Dear, you were lost, completely gone in love.

That’s why you knew you wouldn’t find your soulmate for a long, long time. At least not until your crush for Loki had finally gone away.

“I’d rather stay”, you stated, and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I want to go, and I can’t go alone. Please, at least do it for me”.

“Why would you want to go? Ever since we’re on age of being asked to dance, we have only gotten invitations from… well, anyone except them. And in the Balls we can’t even be their friends”.

“We can be friends, if they talk to us first we can talk back”.

“Yeah, we could, but they don’t talk first. They never do”.

Both of you were completely lost for the princes. But, unlike you, Sif had a chance with Thor. She was graceful, divine, a wonderful woman; a whole Goddess, an amazing warrior. There was no question Thor would sooner or later find love in her friend. But you… why would a prince like Loki lay his eyes on you? Romantically, he never showed a single trace of interest in anyone, much less someone in his friendgroup. You were the closest to him, yet he never said a thing.

He probably knew you drooled over him. He must have noticed how you looked at him in the library when he read to you, how you always defended him from everyone else’s mockery, how you intentionally pretended like you didn’t know any better in spells so that he could help you out. How your heartbeat raced when he fell asleep on your lap. He must have noticed, yet he said nothing.

She finally managed to convince you to go, with the condition that if you weren’t asked to dance at all, or even talk, you’d go back to your manor early.

You got in your best clothes, and undressing the best attitude possible, you both arrived at the palace and entered the ballroom as quick as your feet let you. The ambient was marvelous. Subtle lighting, most of them by candles. The golden details that characterized Asgard so well were everywhere. Both King and Queen were sat in their thrones, waiting patiently for the rest of the royal family to arrive before giving the annual speech and getting the party started.

“Do you think they’re not coming?” asked Sif as you got comfortable in your seats, eyeing the entrances.

“They can’t miss it, they’re sort of the hosts”, you said, “but… well, I don’t know. The other day after training, Thor mentioned something about this year being particularly difficult for them”, you added in such a low whisper that Sif had to pull closer.

“What did he say? He didn’t mention anything to me”, she whispered back. You two looked like you were merely gossiping, if it weren’t for the lack of giggling that would usually follow.

“He said… he said something along the lines of ‘we’re expected so much more than before in these dances, they’re more than just for fun now’, and, Sif, I think he meant…”, but she abruptly interrupted you.

“Courting? Oh, for the Norns, they’re not expected to choose a partner now, so soon, aren’t they?”.

“Soon? Sif, they’re already at each other’s throats for who’s becoming King, and they have been for a while”.

“They’re not exactly competing, anyways. You don’t have to worry about this. It’s not like Loki’s the one winning” said she, earning a subtle kick in the leg. “Auch!”.

“Would you stop being so hard on him?”.

“You know I’m right!”.

“You know it hurts him. If you think so, at least keep it to yourself, Sif”.

You could’ve kept lecturing her if it weren’t for the sarcastic clapping of the Queen upon seeing the arrival of her sons. You read the ‘you’re late!’ on her lips and the apologetic looks on their faces. But nothing of that distracted you from admiring how marvelous Loki could get sometimes. Just when you thought he couldn't look any better, he outdid himself. You let out a sigh and Sif laughed.

“You’re staring”.

“And rightfully so. Look at him”.

But no matter how much you looked at him for the whole evening, you couldn’t get even a gaze from him. He didn’t even eyed you from the distance. You would’ve even gotten actually mad at him if it weren’t for the fact that he wasn’t looking anywhere. He didn’t seem like he was avoiding you; he was actively staring at the floor, with the saddest look on his face. And Thor looked pissed off.

“There’s a story in there and I will ask for as many details as possible once Loki spills the beans to you”, said Sif, elbowing you.

“I don’t think he will. Look, it looks like more than a fight. He looks so upset”.

You could only wish you were brave enough to break the stupid rule of the royals approach first so you could take his hand tightly and comfort him in whatever he was going through. As you always did. As he always let you.

The music played for three hours. Everyone was on their feet, dancing away, drinking away and chatting away, as one should in a Ball dance. Everyone except you and certain dark prince you didn’t even bother staring at anymore. You gave up looking for his attention an hour after the dance properly started, and it did nothing good to your pride to have been trying for that long anyways.

Sif got her chance, of course. Thor took his time, but after long he gave up with whatever quarrel he was having with his brother and approached her decisively. You were past pissed. Disappointed. After another sip of your wine, you couldn’t resist and stole a glance to Loki’s seat. To your surprise, you met his gaze. The God of Mischief was staring at you, and he apparently has been for Gods know how long. He quickly dropped his head and went back to looking at the floor, now with a completely red face.

You soon realized he was even more upset than before, as he watched Thor and Sif dance. And then you understood. Everything fell into place. Of course. Of course he liked Sif. Who wouldn’t. That’s why he fought with Thor. That’s why he was so worked up. You didn’t even need to read his mind to confirm it.

You waited, still holding your eyes on him. You waited for another half an hour, but your patience was already on thin ice and he didn’t look like he would do anything more, anyways. So you did what you should’ve done hours ago. You got up and left.

“No, brother, you can go, I’ll let Mother know I’m staying”, said Loki from his room.

He could hear Thor’s patience shatter in pieces from the other side of the door.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we can’t miss the Ball. Father will kill you”.

“It’s not my problem”.

“I think it is quite your problem, brother”. Loki sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for his mockery. Thor sensed it and lowered his tone of voice, insisting. “Tell me what it is, Loki. I promise I’ll try to help out”.

But he only scoffed and locked the door, to start pacing around the room, feeding his anxiety even more. He covered his arm with his palm and tried his best to make it go away. It’s just an accidental illusion. I’m making it out of nervousness. I need to make it go away, he kept saying under his breath. But it didn’t go away. It wasn’t an illusion.

“Oh, FOR THE NINE REALMS”, he kicked his chair as a sudden burst of anger ate him alive.

“Loki, let me in!”, insisted Thor. “I’m going in”.

“You can’t help me”.

“I might, if you just tell me what is it. You love the dances. Come on”.

“I do love dances, Thor, I’m not particularly fond of the weight this one has on us; not this year” he growled from the floor, knees on his chest. “Not with what I had planned, I can’t do it now” he whispered. Thor pretended like he didn’t listen to that last bit.

Loki had been circling around the idea of asking you to dance for the last few months. It was all he wanted; to caress your hand and gently hold you by the waist, to move at the pace of the music, to feel your heart on his chest, his rising heartbeat with every breath you took. He wanted you, and if that wasn’t possible (and he was sure it wasn’t) he wanted to dance with you all night long.

But now, he would have to court you and marry you if he did. And, of course, it was what he wanted. It was definitely all he wanted. But he knew you wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t risk your beautiful friendship over anything in the world. What if he lost you forever? He could never bring himself to lose you, in any form or way.

“Brother, let me in. Or get out of the room. We’re late”.

“You’re late, Thor. Must I repeat myself? I’m not going”.

“I’m kicking the door”.

Loki sighed, and waited to hear Thor’s intense footsteps get closer and closer to the door to open it just in time and see him land on his face. Thor got up off the floor with blood on his nose.

“It combines with your crimson cape, brother, no need to worry” said Loki mockingly.

But Thor paid little attention to his silvertongue. Instead, his eyes were fixed on his arm. Then, he understood exactly why he was acting so terrified. Loki covered his arm as soon as he realized, mortified, but it was now too late and Thor had already seen it.

“Do you need any other reason to invite them to dance with you?”, he said with a grin of pride.

“It's not them. I’m certain”.

“How are you so certain? It’s such an ambiguous drawing, and you haven’t seen theirs!”.

“They doesn’t even have a soulmate mark yet. They told me the other day”.

“You didn’t have one at that time either, it must have changed. Come on”.

Loki sighed and put on a long sleeved outfit, while letting Thor rant about how much he was sure you’d reciprocate his feelings. And Loki couldn’t say anything against it, because it would only bring ruin to everyone; to spill the obvious secret that haunted him everyday.

The fact that you lusted over Thor.

And it hurted him like anything else, because he knew even though you didn’t say anything. He knew he was the lesser prince. The one that gets looked over. The shadow in his brother’s spotlight. The always-prince, never-King. It hurted like Hell.

But there was nothing he could do about it. And now he had a mark that linked him to the Norns know who, but he only had eyes for you.

Because you were always there. You were the one to defend him against his own insecurities, and everyone else’s accusations. The one to laugh the loudest at his jokes, the one to hold him the tightest when you were in fear, the one to call him first to anything. And you were perfect. But you, for obvious reasons, didn’t think the same of him. You thought the world of him, but not in the way he wished.

And he wouldn’t even get to see you happy from someone else’s love, because his brother didn’t even have eyes for you. The idiot of Thor could not see your brightness, and Loki wondered how could anyone not fall in love with you.

“You need to try, Loki, you’ll never know if you don’t risk a little”.

“A little? To you this is a little? Do you have any idea what would happen to me if I lost them forever? If the person that I love the most leaves me because I just decided to stop hiding my feelings?”, yelled Loki, completely angered.

“Ah, there it is. If I decided to stop hiding my feelings”, repeated Thor, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”.

“You are afraid; so incredibly afraid of letting anyone know you fully. That is your problem, Loki. They’ll accept you no matter what, because they already know you. You think you’re hiding, well, you’re not so good with this little lie of yours”, said finally Thor, tired of biting his tongue about it.

“You know nothing about their feelings”.

“I know enough”.

“Believe me, you don’t. And you don’t get to say a word about my love life, or anything about this situation, for that matter. You don’t get to make light of my situation, as you do with everything regarding me. Now, leave. Me. Alone”.

They continued fighting about it until one of their tutors had enough of their unpunctuality and came to look for them. Both entered the ballroom still highly upset at each other and said nothing about it all night. Frigga knew exactly what they were talking about, and didn’t make too much of a fuss about the delay in their arrival.

Loki tried to not look at you in the entirety of the night; avoided all the eye contact he could with anyone, specially you. He was too afraid you’d choose that exact time to practice your special abilities at mind reading (since you’ve done this at previous dances, when Loki didn’t approach you), and if he didn’t see you, you couldn’t do it. Because if you dared reading his mind you’d only find yourself. And in those little moments he got to glance at you, while you were distracted with something else, he sank in sadness, because all he wanted was to embrace you and dance with you. You looked as fantastic as you always were and more. You looked especially excellent. And it didn’t go unnoticed to him that you looked annoyed. From the eye-sided glances he got to steal from you, he saw you staring at the seat he and his brother were in. You were expectant. You wanted to be taken out to dance. And Loki’s suspicions about your crush on Thor only got reassured when he asked Sif for a dance and you looked the most annoyed you’d ever looked in ages.

You left the dance early. After about ten minutes Loki decided to go after you. Outside of the ballroom you could still be a friend; that was the whole point of swallowing his feelings. He wandered the palace until he heard fireballs collapsing against the huge walls of your typical training spot, but he lingered his entrance to observe you in an incredibly angry state of your magic.

“You’ll set the palace on fire” said a gut-wrenching familiar voice. Of course Thor was there. Of course Thor would get earlier to comfort you in something that he destroyed.

“Then so be it”, you answered with a crack in your voice. Loki didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but he couldn’t help himself but to listen.

“I know why you’re upset. Believe me, it upsets me too”.

“You have no idea what upsets me”, you answered, and Thor chuckled. Loki could sense that Thor was thinking about how similar you and Loki were. You threw another fireball against the wall.

“Let me guess”.

“Enlighten me, your majesty”.

“You didn’t get to dance with the man you like”.

“You know nothing about the man I like”.

“When will you all stop treating me as if I were blind? Come on, why won’t you tell me? I’m your friend. I know you’re burning up in love and you still think you don’t have a chance because… because what? Because he’s the prince of Asgard?” said Thor. You stopped your magic and stared at him with teary eyes.

“Because the prince of Asgard I love, is in love with Sif. And there’s nothing I can do about it” you answered. Loki’s heart broke. Hearing you admit your raw feelings to Thor that way, and Thor not even understanding you were talking about him.

“What makes you think he’s in love with Sif?!” insisted, still clueless.

But Loki didn’t need to hear any more of that. He ran through the halls of the palace until he got to lock himself in his room.

“What makes you think he’s in love with Sif?!”, Thor asked, and you scoffed. You lowered your gaze to the floor, trying to make the tears go unnoticed. They didn’t, and Thor hugged you tightly.

Thor was almost like a brother to you. You grew up together, but it was more than that. You were always for each other. He never had to ask about your love for Loki, he always knew. And you never had to ask about his crush in Sif; it was transparent. So you both supported each other. You didn’t even bother telling him how she felt about him, it was bound to happen. Now, you and Loki, on the other hand…

“He is, you can’t deny it”.

“I’m denying it, I assure you”. You wiped your tears away and touched your mark over your clothes. He smiled. “You got the mark, didn’t you?”.

“Yeah”.

“What is it?”.

“Ugh, it doesn’t matter. Maybe I should just forget him and start looking for my soulmate. If the mark showed up today, then it must be for something. There has to be a reason”. Thor nodded, still smiling. “What are you so happy about, dumbass? My heart’s broken".

“Nothing. You keep on looking. Can I see it?”, said he, patting your back.

“It’s too ambiguous, you won’t guess it”.

“So I expected”.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you know anything?”.

“Nothing whatsoever”.

You got in your fighting position. Loki bent down in his seat, focusing on the next fight. He was sure you’d win; he has been teaching you new moves and you completely mastered them. And your rival didn’t know any better, anyways.

One kick from your opponent; you avoided it and threw a punch. Another kick. Another punch. The rival grabbed your leg, making you lose your balance and almost fall down, but you used that impulse to push him away and get him to the ground. He got up and started using magic. A blue light shone around him and started getting closer to your feet. You closed your eyes and focused intensely; soon, water drops started emerging from the tips of your fingers. They quickly transformed into a stream of water that wrapped your opponent from head to toes, making his electricity magic attack him, instead of you. Loki smiled.

Your rival pushed further his strength and one of the electrified waterjets hit your leg. You fell to the ground with a scream. It hurted, a lot. Loki gasped and Thor had to grab his shoulder to remind him it was just a training fight. For his tranquility, you got up on your feet soon and started using your magic again.

An aura of sparks and wind formed around you while you closed your fists, extremely concentrated. Your opponent waited without attacking, but behind the shield of his armour. Loki saw Thor smile proudly; this was the part he taught you. For your fire side of your powers, Thor was the one to train you thoroughly. Loki sighed, frustrated because you haven’t yet shown what Loki had taught you with such enthusiasm. He still observed you with attention.

“This part is awesome, look, brother”, whispered Thor in his ear, which only made him angrier.

“I’m sure it is. They is awesome. And wait until you see what I taught them”. Thor chuckled.

“No need for jealousy, Loki. They’s all yours”. Loki rolled his eyes and directed his attention to the fight again.

The sparks and wind grew bigger and bigger around you, circling your whole body. Once the sparks became fire, you directed your whole energy to your opponent, sending him against the wall. If it weren’t for the gigant fire-proof shield, he would’ve gotten completely roasted.

You put your guard down, and as you did so, the wind and fire around you dispersed. Loki got to see you again once the magic flew down, and realized you had your clothes slightly lifted up. He tried not to look out of respect, but Thor gasped, and that drew his attention directly to what surprised his brother. And it did not disappoint. Loki’s chest got as tight as it has ever been. His breathing became irregular and unsteady, and his face got completely red. You didn’t notice your shirt had lifted up, so you didn’t realize what was going on. You got closer to your defeated rival and shaked his hand.

“You win. I see you’ve been well trained”, he said.

“I have”, you answered, and directed your gaze to the princes who were watching the fight. You walked closer to them to chatter, as you always did, but Loki got up fast and ran out of the training room. Thor told you to follow him, and Loki heard your footsteps behind him for the entirety of the hall, until you two got to the gardens.

Loki was shaking. He didn’t want you to be there. He didn’t want you to see him that vulnerable. And you knew it, so you didn’t get closer than two meters apart.

“Loki”, you said after a while, behind his back. “What’s wrong?”.

He turned around, face still red. He was usually cold, but at that moment he was burning up inside and out. Maybe he was burning out of love for you. Maybe out of anger, for being so pessimistic and making himself a martyr when his brother was clearly right. Maybe out of rage to himself, for waiting so long to make a move and losing so much time lost in his own head. But you were still standing there, concerned. And he had to say something, because you still didn’t know anything.

“I saw your mark”, he stated. Now you were the one with the red face.

“Oh… I, I don’t, uh…”, you stuttered, and he got closer to you. He grabbed both of your hands and you looked at him in the eyes, clueless. “I try not to give it that much attention”.

“Why?”, he asked. “It’s your soulmate. The person you’ll love the most”.

“I already love someone” you said, in a burst of confidence. Loki swallowed in nervousness. Your hands started to get sweaty. “I… ugh. Sorry. I don’t want to say…”.

“Who? Tell me, I’m your best friend”.

“I don’t want you to be”, you finally said. “It’s you, Loki. It’s always been you. I don’t care about this stupid soulmate mark, because I know I’m in love with you and I always have been”.

Loki stayed silent, which only made your anxiety increase. He finally looked at you in the eyes and formed a subtle smile.

“I thought you loved Thor”.

“What? Why would I…?”.

“I heard you after the Ball; you said the prince you love was in love with Sif”.

“Yeah, you”.

“I’m… what? I’m not… I’m not in love with Sif, darling”.

Your heart stirred, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the pet name he just gave you, or the fact that you got it all wrong. He wasn’t in love with Sif?

“I’m sorry, did we both think…?”.

“We’re idiots, apparently”.

You both laughed. That was it; that cotidianity, that normality that felt, even in the most embarrassing and intense moments, completely fine. Because you were, before anything, friends.

You hugged him. He returned the hug and caressed your neck and back with one hand. You felt his heartbeat rise, and from that position, he whispered in your ear with that beautifully deep and raspy voice; “I saw your mark”.

“I don’t care about it. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, ignore my feelings if necessary. But my heart only beats for you”, you whispered back. He sank his nose on the crook of your neck and felt his mouth form a smile against your skin. You shivered and felt warmth in your stomach.

“I don’t want to ignore your feelings”.

“I love you”, you said once again, regretting it in that instant. You couldn't stop your words from falling out of your mouth. You felt like you sounded desperate.

“I love you too, my dear”.

You, in shock, looked at him in the eyes. He kept smiling, and putting a strand of your hair behind an ear, placed a small kiss on your red cheek.

“I don’t know what to do next. I like being your friend”, you said. “And I don’t think we’re meant to be. I got a mark, and you haven’t, so it’s obvious we won’t end up together anyways. And I want you by my side for all my life; even if it’s just as a friend, you know? I don’t want to lose you”. Loki chuckled at your rant. “What?”.

“What makes you think I didn’t get my mark yet?”.

“Well, I… I don’t know. Did you?”.

“Yes”.

“What does it look like?”.

He smiled.

“It’s very ambiguous”, said he, sarcastically.

“Hard to guess, is it?” you chuckled, realizing what was going on. Loki lifted his sleeve, uncovering an identical soulmate mark to yours.

“Hard to guess, yet so obvious”, he said. He grabbed your waist and neck and both melted in a long, desired kiss. You sank your fingers in his hair, caressing his scalp. “Yours?”

“It’s very ambiguous too, you know?”.

480 notes · View notes

youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not��

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

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