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siddyyyyyyyy · 4 months ago

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You're Only Sixteen

wc: 3.7 K

summary: child soldier joins taskforce 141 part FIVE; one, two, three, four ; six

warnings: discussion of child soldiers, discussion of character death

a/n: I have nothing to say, enjoy

Training hall, 7:32, one day before the mission

»C‘mon, focus.«

Ghost taunts you as he is sparring with you, having been at it for probably a few minutes after going out for a morning run. After that glorious nightmare that was indeed a flashback, you have been more focused than anything today. But Ghost doesn‘t care, he really wants to push your limits today and see how much more you can actually endure. And he is really sure you can handle more than you‘re letting on. He saw you take out a man twice your size with a simple fire extinguisher.

Obviously, his words do little to provoke you, but his punches sure do. The sheer amount of sass this man has during sparring sessions is always something you admire about him. With another hard hit against your side, you feel your adrenaline rise before your attacks start to become stronger, finally making him sweat. You‘re not sure why you‘re holding back on him, since back at your camp, you always made sure to be stronger and even meaner in fights, but you also know your camp was abusive, in some way or another. Ghost is quick too, however, and counters your attacks back, putting more force in his hits too.

Finally, the match is more rough between you two, making Ghost struggle to keep up with your movements. It is not clear who is winning the round before you kick his side quickly with more force, making him gasp and launch at you. Before he could actually attack you, you duck and aim for his abdominal area, finally making him stumble. But you don‘t stop there, encouraging him to fall. He does, eventually but not without letting out a curse so bad that you thought he was actually mad at you.

But no, he is far from mad at you. Actually feeling some kind of pride that you actually beat him. Even Soap has a hard time winning against Ghost, but he is also used to the competitive fights between him and Gaz. You help him stand back on his feet, and he gives you detailed critique. Well, he is mostly complaining about the way you‘ve been holding back until now.

»Seriously, you need to stop pretending I‘m fragile. I can take your hits. And I‘ve seen you take down men before. You can do better than that; just don‘t think too much.«

You give him a brief nod back, feeling somewhat lighter. Maybe today‘s morning training is making you finally take your mind off the things that are currently plaguing your mind.

You both start another round of training, having the freedom of taking out of frustration on Ghost, beating him a second time. You believe he is just going easy on you, but the way he pants while he gets up from the mat says otherwise.

Eventually, after some more rounds, in which you both win equal amounts of time, Ghost thinks you‘re ready for the mission, and it‘s time to go to the last official meeting before preparing for the deployment.

Arriving there, you see Laswell and Price already standing by the table, noticing you two enter as well. It seemed like they were talking about something, the room falling silent briefly.

»Still in for the task?«

Price questions you, his tone neutral but his expression having a serious hint in it. You give him a short nod, answering as the day before. Meanwhile, the rest of the team enters the briefing room and settles on standing around the table as usual. Laswell doesn‘t waste any time on getting to the point, starting the small PowerPoint and explaining the steps of the mission even clearer than last time.

The plan changed up slightly, changing up the positions mostly.

»You‘re still paired with Farah. But you will be taking care of the guards outside and keeping watch on the building. After that‘s done, you‘ll be joining the rest inside the building. Since you have the most knowledge about the camp, it will be your responsibility to lead the safest way into the director‘s room.«

The small changeup seems to be quite simple, understanding the task. Instead of ensuring the safety of the children, you will now help them get the so-called bad guys. Or your past superiors and boss. But it‘s better than having to escort your past rival, having dreaded the thought of possibly seeing him again. Laswell looks away from you, focussing her eyes on the slide of the PowerPoint that‘s projected on the whiteboard, continuing with the mission plan.

»Farah has enough men to safely escort the children away, leaving us a clear view of the task at hand.«

She glances back at you, her expression still as dead-serious as the day before.

»Your call sign from now on is ‘Bane‘.«

Soap grins lightly at the call sign, looking your way. Gaz does the same, glancing to you briefly. He only gives you a solid nod, but Soap even gives you a thumbs up. It‘s clear they both seem to want to hype you up in a subtle manner. Ghost, however, only gets the simple message behind the call sign; seeing the first mission together had left a big impression.

The briefing goes on, with Laswell mostly leading the meeting as the rest listens, only sometimes interjecting or asking questions. You stay quiet though, just letting the whole plan go over in your head several times and also getting used to your call sign.

Maybe you worry too much because you feel the muscles around your arms start to hurt lightly. It‘s not a sharp pain but more of a dull, throbbing pain around your forearms that makes you feel uncomfortable overall. No matter what, though, you stay still and calm during the briefing until you can finally leave for lunch and have a small break. The muscle ache subsides slowly as you make your way to the mess hall with Gaz and Soap, getting your food trays, and sitting down at your usual table. Finally, the ache seems to fully go away, letting you eat in peace. Of course that familiar ache was a thing even before joining this team. Due to being exposed to high stress situations at a young age, it must be your body‘s way of showing you stress since you mainly go through the stress and do anything to complete a mission.

Ghost passes by your table and sets the capri sun down on it, leaning his hands on the table as he looks at the rest.

»She beat me four times at sparring today.«

No one would have expected it, but Soap was the first one to process his words and drop his fork into his plate.

»You broke my record!«

He looks to you with a betrayed look, crossing his arms in a pouty way as he stares at you with his mouth wide open.

»Soap‘s havin‘ beef with a teenager now.« Gaz mumbles amused while he watches his teammate‘s reaction, only hurting his ego even more.

»I‘m not!« Soap glares at his teammate before looking back towards you, »In a matter of a few days, righ‘?«

You don‘t get what he is asking for a moment before you glance at Ghost, unsure of what to say. You beat Ghost four times today. Not four times in a year.

The lack of response makes Soap groan and hit his head on the table in a dramatic way. He could‘ve answered his own question, considering you are there for almost two weeks by now, and you have only been training with Ghost for today.

Ghost feels visibly smug and wanders off to his office, probably eating alone once again. The table isn‘t silent for too long as Gaz continues to tease him for getting his record broken by you, munching on the food while discussing this childish topic. In Soap‘s mentality, there is no such thing as ‚childish‘, because as long as it makes you happy or gives you a purpose in life, it doesn‘t matter if people find it funny or not.

Eventually, you finish your meal with the rest, starting on the capri sun now, as you walk out of the mess hall. Soap excuses himself to join Ghost in his office and bicker about his broken record, leaving you alone with Gaz, or ‚Kyle‘, for you, as he tells you to call him now. He suggests a walk around the park again, easily agreeing to such a request.

You start walking beside each other, the conversation starting off with him asking you something out of concern.

»Nervous for the mission? It‘s a pretty big one.«

»It should be fine. I‘m used to high-pressure operations.«

Kyle can‘t help but feel his heart break every time you say something mature like that. A literal teenager shouldn‘t be feeling like this. Getting a big responsibility thrown in their way, having to act tough and not be allowed to feel fear or back down, constantly needing to keep up your fitness and strength… it‘s too much, and he really wonders if you are actually so strong and capable, or if you are good at pretending.

Maybe he is worrying too much, but he knows he was busy trying to beat his friends at ‚Need for Speed‘ and ‚Mortal Kombat‘ in high school instead of worrying about things like you are right now.

»Are you though? It must be a lot, raiding your old camp and arresting your old superiors. There‘s a lot to process.«

He didn‘t mean to pressure you even more or get you into some sort of stressful situation, but you started to get defensive.

»I am used to this. There is nothing new about this, and...« You pause, trying to figure out how to say this and also not cringe at yourself, »I have a team now.«

Kyle raises his eyebrow lightly at that, not able to hide his light surprise. He doesn‘t know the system you had back there, really only Ghost being the lucky – or rather unlucky one – to know about the unusal system. And you are sure that Kyle would be even more devastated if he heard about those. A brief moment of silence goes by before he speaks up again.

»You trust us a lot, don‘t you?« His voice becoming more solemn. You give him a brief nod back, not daring to look into his eyes. He sees it as the best positive response he‘ll ever receive from you and just walks beside you quietly.

The conversation turns into something more light afterwards, getting to joke around a little bit with him as he mostly explains you what vines are and tells you some of the more popular memes, which you find rather absurd but funny.

The rest of the day went by relaxed. Or as relaxed as possible, since you still sometimes got a muscle ache and there wasn‘t any official training or meeting until the flight, leaving you some time to fully set into the new mission and get ready.

You keep checking for the small Polaroid in your bag; paranoid that it will vanish into thin air, but it doesn‘t.

Flight, 4:00

The flight came by quicker than you wanted it to be. Even though you want to get your revenge on every single one who wronged you, you can‘t help but feel wrought up about it.

But you don‘t have time to think about it now as you‘re getting into the helicopter with the others, being too tired to give a fuck about any of your worries anyway. Once you got all the essentials into the vehicle, you took a seat and put the headset on. Nikolai‘s chirp voice comes through, greeting everyone again.

»Ah, good mornin‘ guys! Ready to kick some ass?«

Kyle snorts beside you as he hears the motivated voice from the pilot, shaking his head lightly.

»Always. Drive already.«

Price responds as he makes it comfortable on the seat in front of you, looking towards the cockpit where Nikolai is just doing some final check-ups.

»It‘s flying, Captain. Flying.« Nik quips back, a little disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm from the team, eventually starting to fly to Urzikstan. You wonder how the pilot can be so cheerful most of the time, it being literally four in the morning, and you are about to fly for approximately eight hours. He must intake some serious drugs before every flight, because you‘ve never seen such a happy Russian man before.

Speaking of the devil, he calls you over to the cockpit, and you wonder what he might possibly want from you now. You step into the cockpit, standing behind him as he flies, glancing to you. He motions for you to take your headset off, wanting to speak privately.

»I didn‘t tell anyone, but I built a sound box in here. You listen to music? You can choose here, just play whatever you like.«

Meanwhile, the rest of the team discusses something among themselves, not paying much attention to your conversation with Nik.

And, of course, you know a thing or two about music. Well, you do have a favourite band since the camp played most of their music in the gym.

You look towards the device he shoves into your hands, having a bit of trouble understanding the mechanics of it, but you figure it out quite quickly. The first tones go off in the helicopter, making you flinch lightly. Nikolai nods along to the music for a moment, smiling satisfied and glad you didn‘t put on Taylor Swift.

»Nik?« You quickly give the device back to the man as you hear Price approach you both, playing as neutrally as possible. But the pilot doesn‘t even spare so much of a glance to the captain, seemingly too focused on controlling the helicopter.

»Why is Papa Roach playing at full volume?«

Price questions, looking to Nik and then to you. His expression seems more confused than annoyed, not having expected some music on the flight. But he seems to piece it together fairly quickly with how quiet you are and that you happen to just stand innocently by him.

»Bloody hell...« He sighs out softly and leaves you two be, returning back to the rest.

The rest of the flight consists of you talking to Nikolai, him mostly rambling about the helicopter you are both in and talking about some more mechanics and other planes and jets he once got to fly with. At the same time, the music plays in the background, realising mid-fly that he also installed some serious bass subwoofers within the sound boxes. The playlist seems to change, as you hear some unfamiliar songs that seem to be the stuff he usually enjoys. You ask him about it, feeling like he is the most easy and fun to talk to by far. Beside Kyle.

»Oh, that‘s my favourite band, Slaughter To Previal! I‘ve seen them live last summer in Moscow… Their show was something else. Do you like them so far?«

You take a small moment to answer, actually finding it rather strange and also a little too much. But you certainly respect his passion for this specific band. It seems like they are singing in Russian too.

»It‘s definitely energetic. And loud.«

Nik barks a laugh at your answer, understanding it might be something new and strange for you, considering you mostly know something about the nu-metal band ‚Papa Roach‘.

The last four hours of the flight go by with some occasional naps against Soap‘s shoulder and listening to the conversations the others have.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you are back in Urzikstan. The very same country you spent most of your life in. Where you wished to never return.

But this is about getting a mission done. The most important mission you‘ve ever had, probably.

Nik lands in a big landing field near a smaller base, the surroundings being familiar to you. The scenery is mostly bland, the sun being out by now, and the base being located in the middle of a desert. As you walk out, the hot sun surprises you, making your shield you eyes with your hand from it.

There are already some extra people that help with the baggage and all the equipment you brought for the mission. You stand by the others, making sure not to get lost, and stay by Kyle‘s side, seeing him stretch his back from the long flight.

Two people approach your small group, seemingly apart of the operation and base, the same people who will help with your task just tomorrow.

»Good morning, old man. I heard you have a new addition?«

Farah greets Price, making you finally look to her and to the man beside her. Kyle goes in for a hug with the man who introduces himself as Alex Keller to you, seeming like a decent dude.

Price goes to introduce you to them but gets cut off by Farah.

»No, I know her. How‘s your arm?«

Even you are surprised by her directness, and the team seems to be even more surprised. Gaz is the first one to actually speak up about the initial surprise, gesturing between the two of you.

»You… know ‘er?«

The air seems to tense for a moment before Farah nods and explains finally, seeing that you are still not a talkative one.

»We met three years ago, during a raid. I‘m glad she‘s with you now.«

After that brief explanation, it seems like some were still confused at the absurdity of you both knowing each other, but no one will press any further for now.

With some more words between the team and Farah, you walk into their base and get back to discussing the mission. Everyone seems to know their task pretty well, but there are still speculations about the operation and camp. What is actually their motive behind it? Why do they even need child soldiers?

»From the information we received from the warehouse, we could only determine where the building is and who it belongs to. We also got a list with all the children inside; they have full files of each of them.«

Price explains as Farah listens, the second in command, Alex standing beside her.

»Bane has most of the intel from all of us, which is why I think she is essential for the mission.«

Farah‘s eyes are mostly on you, studying the way you stick by Ghost‘s side during the brief and seem to be focused on the task as well. You‘ve clearly grown quite a bit during those three years of not seeing each other, but she can still see the scared and rageful thirteen-year-old she once almost took out.

»And this is why she will stick with us after clearing the guards outside. Farah, you still have enough men to escort the children, right?«

Finally, she tears her eyes away from you and nods, getting back to fully focus on the briefing again. The air is serious but not tense. Again, something you are not used to at briefings, even after having been in several one‘s with your team.

Once some more information and planning has been done, checking afterwards if everything is working right, it gets back to preparing more. But before you could join your team in preparing your equipment, Farah gets ahead of you and speaks up. She stands by your side, leading you more towards the exit to speak more privately.

»Seriously, how‘s your arm? I stabbed it really back then.«

She questions with more concern in her features this time, looking at you while walking outside and abandoning the rest.

»It‘s fine, you don‘t need to worry about it. Just got a bit of a scar.«

You dismiss quickly, feeling really glad you are wearing long sleeves today, even though you knew it‘s pretty warm in this country.

»Well… I‘m glad you got into better hands. Your decision?«

She asks again, this time being more light, but not without a hint of seriousness and genuine curiousness.

»Got sent to them because I was starting to lack.«

»Why were you getting worse?«

You really dreaded that question, and there is no way you will be able to answer that without at least your voice breaking. The conversation pauses for a moment before Farah sighs out, realisation setting in.

»I‘m sorry for your loss… When did it happen?« Of course she would realise it that quick. After all, she tried to interrogate you after stabbing you before finding out you are actually still a child.

»Two years ago. Raid mission; I was first in command, but she insisted on entering first.«

You bit your inner cheek, focused on staying calm and not letting any emotions escape as you talk to her. Even when you have only met her two times, she grew on you quite a lot. She is definitely the reason why you kept going as well.

»It‘s like she knew… she - it should‘ve been me.«

Against your will, your voice breaks and apart of Farah breaks too, as you try to explain what really happened. She stops walking and embraces you into a hug, her arms wrapping gently around you with a strong intent to comfort you.

»Don‘t say that. Halime wouldn‘t want you to beat yourself over it. It‘s not your fault.«

She tells you gently as she rubs your back lightly, feeling how tense your shoulders are. Farah always saw a part of herself in you. She was, too, being thrown into a difficult situation as a young child and was forced to continue. However, she also had a brother to care about and also had some sort of company that way. Now, you are the one who has nothing left but your team and this life, in which you are still fighting to survive.

»You need the will to continue, and you have it. But most importantly, we are here for you, and we will make sure to help you through each step. Understood?«

Her voice became a little lighter at the end as she pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

You were caught off guard by her hug and comforting words, but you had an even stronger will and motivation to go on the mission with the rest and get it done nicely. Now it‘s time to gear up and make your way to the old camp that once made your life a living hell.

a/n: I actually love Slaughter to Previal, I've seen them live in January and my life changed. Had to really strain myself from not writing from my perspective as Nik was speaking lol. Some proof, lmao:

Hope you enjoyed it!

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satocidal · 1 year ago

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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ “Opposites Attract?!”— Gojo Satoru

Synopsis: the famous rich boy of the campus and the Dean’s daughter? Scandalous—especially when they’re both jealous as hell.

— A/n: Roughly based on something from my real life lmao— except that we didn’t get together because hehe. Also, this is the first part of a kinkmas fic that I have planned, it’s been broken since the fic was getting too long <3 (both can be read stand-alone!) Tagging @romiyaro @draecys @maeby-cursed because yes; nsfw version <3

— Word count: 5.7k

— warnings: Fem! Reader x Satoru Gojo; slightly suggestive Suguru and Mei Mei (they deserve to be warnings here); undertones if jealousy; a kiss (or three) at the end, I know—scandalous right; Reader wears spects in one scene; this has a LOT of bickering. Just banter for that matter, reader says smn about sex work BUT I assure you it’s not supposed to be in a negative light <333

4.5 g.p.a—a perfect reputation that you held, a decent social life—an amazing father to back you up, you weren’t ever part of the fraction of people who got in through with scholarships, why would you when your father stood as the dean? —but you��d worked for it.

3.7 g.p.a—it could’ve been far better, easily, if he only put himself in—far too loud a social life with a following of 4k+ on his Instagram while he only followed back his best friend and pretty little things (for a day or so)—part of the fraction who got paid in, who never struggled for it.

Sure, you hadn’t really struggled either—but hypocrisy was only allowed to one and you chose to take your chance.

You didn’t…despise him, the man that Gojo Satoru stood out to be, but lords, you hated the concept around it.

The loud cackle at the back of each lecture—the proxies and his fan girls, you hated it all.

More so, you hated just how enamored your dad was—after all, it was Gojo Satoru that had won the trophies and the plaques—Satoru Gojo that was a Power Player.

But the credit wasn’t to be forgotten for you too—dabbling in all that was academic, if the second half of your dad’s office as the dean were filled with Satoru’s achievements, the first half was yours.

Two sides of the same coin.

Your eyes never left your dad for a second, “you can’t possibly expect that out of Me dad,” the whine wasn’t subtle, nor the snicker that gojo let out at your words and outlet—earning a hard glare.

And to all the pampering and spoiling your father had to offer, it all failed when it came down to the pride and prestige of the university.

“It’s non-negotiable y/n,” the sleek brown in his room shone that afternoon, polished—every groove, every rounded corner—almost a story to behold.

“Yeah! Tell her Mr.Dean,” another snicker- another glare, your father sighed in his dismay.

“You,” your father glared at him, “need to find a way to shove it in your schedule as well—you’re both the elected representatives.”

To end with all whines and groans.

“I have no idea how but I need you two to find a presence of mind and perform your best in curating an experience at the fest. Dismissed.”

A sharp inhale, yours and the roll of Satoru’s eyes, your dad was aware how interesting an evening and a fest in general he would be witnessing.

You’d known Gojo Satoru for 3 years now, spending the last together at the University, standing as the President of Student Council—all against Gojo’s constant “nepotism” comments while he stood as the Captain of the Football Team—against your criticism as well.

A certain peak in the way you two governed your particular fields independently but, together?

Well.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t always that you both disliked each other but, you couldn’t exactly deny the certain distaste the day you’d set eyes on him…

~First Year~

“Dad, please, make sure that no one knows that you and I are, at all related,” a chuckle your father let out, “of course darling, but don’t get prissy when I don’t let you out with attendance matters and all,”

Another chuckle shared, nothing too serious.

“I’ve heard Gojo Satoru will be joining this year too?”

An innocent question, curious is all you were—anyone would be, one of the best the country had seen in years.

Your father nodded slowly, “just so happens to be true, stay in check though, don’t want messing with people like that,”

It was evident, the wary tone that your father had acquired over the years, dealing with all that was the ego of such students, who stood tall with the heap of money that belonged to their daddies.

A slow nod you passed too—your father smiled, you were a smart girl after all.

But fate was decided and what had to happen would happen for sure.

Because you swore to maintain the secret, you weren’t to be even found to have the slightest relation of blood with the Dean — but then whatever could you do when you step out blindly, bumping right into the guy you wanted not to.

A hiss and a curse—“the fuck? Watch where you’re going,” he mumbled-eyes boring into yours, and then simultaneously, at the car.

Anger that flashed down right—“watch your damn language,” unironically, you muttered—something he’d never let you live down.

“Woah there princess, what are you on? Some patrol duty round here-?” The smirk was infuriating, his disheveled hair all the more—especially when he continued messing it up all the more.

A scoff, yours—“Mind your own business,” a shove passed and an attempt to move away—“Y/n L/n?” He held your campus manual.

The certain way your name rolled off his tongue, it caught your attention—“ya dropped this,”

A smirk adored his face as he handed back to you the campus manual, of course it wasn’t anything you required but to solace your father, there you held it.

A cramped “Whatever,” you let out, snatching the booklet from his hands quick—wanting nothing more to do with the stranger that you’d bumped into.

Just as you walked away though, “L/n huh?” The words, his, that you knew would cause you issues.

“He’s Satoru Gojo?” Your surprise lay hidden under the music that boomed all too loud—watching closely the white haired boy you’d bumped into a couple days ago.

“Yeah? You didn’t know?” The grin on your now best friend, and then just-roommates-friend offered little help.

Of course you hadn’t, and now you wish you didn’t still.

It was true you’d spotted him all so much over the past few days, and the people that followed him and the rumors still—unaware to why and how.

But now, with all the pieces in your hand you wanted to hide away—especially when those blue eyes stared right back—with a grin he trampled over.

“Oi! L/n right? We met at the first day?”

You cringed at how loud he spoke—so very sure that absolutely everyone could hear him, all over the booming music.

A subtle nod you passed, trying to get away from the spotlight he’d casually thrown round you.

“Your dad’s the Dean right?”

Silence- literally, just as he said that, the music system paused too—you wanted to curse your luck.

Widened eyes—star-struck stares from all those adored Gojo, amused ones at you from everyone who bothered to think.

You’d have considered lying—unless Satoru Gojo hadn’t chosen to be a dick about it, “You guys have the same last names so I thought- and then, the other when we bumped into each other- remember?” He chuckled as a couple of girls let out audible gasps, envious that you had already touched him so.

Before opportunity even lay still, he continued, “so I thought, because frankly either you’re his daughter or…you know, mistress—but that I doubt,” you wanted to punch away the grin he held, the snicker and the secrets he dropped out like flies.

So while you stood there, waiting for the ostracism—Gojo only giggled, “Don’t worry though, you’re fine, got more of your mom’s genes right?”

Fuming, you stood there—red that masked your vision—“excuse you?” A brow remained cocked, Gojo’s facial expression never once changed—it was about to.

“You’re one to talk about dads huh? Your daddy donated in just about how much into your esteemed football team huh? To get you selected?”

Satoru wasn’t new to comments such, in fact that’s what he’d built his career over but just the way you said it—just the way your angry face stared back at him—he found you annoying, adorably so.

That night, Satoru’s fan following increased by a decent thousand or so, people became aware of you and maybe, you realized, being the Dean’s daughter wouldn’t be that bad a fact.

But all the more, Gojo and you formed a sudden bond still, dislike and nothing less masking the two of you whenever the other was mentioned.

A farce? Maybe—but you were easily, in too deep to stop now.

Often nights you spent, thinking how the two of you could be friends—but huge egos that clashed in, something told you it wouldn’t happen all so easily.

The following week and there on were interesting—you joked all week that you’d blocked Gojo, you never did.

Gojo swore he’d have you black-listed for being so audacious—he never did.

When the huge messaging group—meant to be dead in a day—was formed, you both ended up saving each other’s number discreetly, never to approach it again, at least for a while.

And that was just how it went on “he annoys me so much,” and “she annoys me so much,” but little by little, small steps in the dark—you both were each other’s biggest cheerleaders still- applauding each other louder than anybody else.

Hands clutching onto your notepad you continued jotting down the points—fingers working fast so as not to let a single bright thought escape you.

The event was huge—the University’s 150th Anniversary—perfect, grand, extravagant—to be organized partially, by you.

There was time, plenty—absolutely 1 months before the panic would settle in, 2 before it would be over.

But seconds were quick—hasty in the way they changed into minutes, hours to come and days passed by, never realized.

A finger raised to push your spects up the bridge of your nose—you sighed, eyes landing on the form in front of you—mouth ajar and his sunglasses fixated in his hair, another piece of candy tossed up high before he caught it in his mouth.

A frustrated sigh you let out—“can you please sit straight and help?”

His eyes bore into yours- cerulean, they were pretty, almost prettier than the whole of him, you hated it.

“Isn’t it your job?” A grin he passed, a clench of your jaw was all you could—“we’re in this together, don’t give me that bullshit,”

Another grin, “talk to me when you need booze,”

“You don’t even drink,” the words fell out your mouth all so quick, hesitant you looked at him—“how do you know?” It was an amused smirk that he held, it annoyed you how the man in front seemingly only talked in three supposed emotions.

A small break, “well, I uh- noticed through the parties,” it was true, you did notice through the parties—it was hard not to, since you didn’t drink—you couldn’t be all so sure about the rest.

“You notice me at parties? You notice me at all?” Urges inside you that had to be controlled, such a perfectly punchable face Satoru Gojo held—“help me work on this damn idea,” you mumbled, ignoring all of what he wanted to discuss.

A roll of his eye and yours—“not gonna do it so easily,”

A huff you let out.

Frustration at peak.

“Actually,” your voice was quieter than you expected it to be, “wouldn’t it be better if you were there to advise us? Me? You’ve been organizing parties for so long and,” your face turned towards him—smile never faltering at his disgusted expression—he knew what you were doing, he wasn’t new to sugar coating after all, “I would love learning from the best.”

Jaw clenched, hands sauntered over to the back of your chair—most would consider it an action of endearment, you knew better.

“I would beg to differ Ms. Daddy’s princess,” Your blood boiled at his ignorance—sure, he was Satoru Gojo—but nothing gave him the right to act superior when he stood at his father’s money itself.

Hell, all he was meant to be was just a batchmate, captain of a stupid team that barely mattered—you?

Sure, a well suited empire would never land on your back, nor a fortune as his until you’d worked half your life into it— but you were better, you knew it. Denial onto his privilege to negate the Authorities could’ve never been acceptable by you.

your eyes remained stuck onto the ground —defiant—“well, i suppose it would only be for the best,” stubborn you sat and so did he—stuck in between the thickening tension.

“The best,” his voice exasperated, “would be for someone like you to sit back down and do as you’re told.”

Mouth hanging just in the slightest, you dared not to meet his face—focusing on the little stains and creases you’d administered on your sneakers—eyes sneaking onto his pair, perfect, as expected.

“That’s a little rich, coming from you—”

“—and this is the best they’ve found? You? To help me huh?”

Bigoted. Nose flared, curses at the tip of your tongue and you could do nothing as he further scoffed, “getting a privileged bitch to do my job, now they know my worth huh?”

“Excuse you?” Shaky, you sat—words spilling out before you could stop it—“your worth? Absolutely as nothing, but a spoiled man-baby who cannot deal with things maturely?”

Confusion marked his face—of course he would be, all so blind to the simple generosity that gets offered to him—all so he can kick a ball.

“The event is in 2 months sir,” address regained to the topic, you spoke flatly, “I would well appreciate that you helped us in the organization of said fest—if not, well, it would be a sheer pity that the entire football team would have to suffer,”

And there lay your ultimatum, naked and threatening—and he knew it was all but empty.

“L/n,” Gojo coughed—not quite sure, uneasy evidently, with the tension that hung lose in the atmosphere—“You maybe influential in your own ways on the campus but-”

“-but I’m just a student here, as you are,” you looked directly at Gojo now, “And to adhere to rules is the basic of most authoritative environments. So I suppose, you’ll be all the more pliant in helping us plan the fest and encouraging our juniors to help us out.”

Defiant—squinted eyes of Gojo simply stared blankly—“Alright,” he muttered.

“If help is what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”

And the deal was settled—to your compromise and his.

A week had passed since—the discomfort only grew.

“What the fuck? You’re speeding rumours now?” Rough were the words that greeted you first the moment the two of you entered the study you currently sat in—a half shrug you passed him, “I would need help and rather than begging you for it, why not just keep you as my assistant?”

“Excuse you?” His tone, bewildered as he shut the door behind the two of you—“Your assistant?” He barked out a laugh—“They really are making sheer idiots now huh?”

“Says daddy’s little prince who couldn’t use his academics to get in like everyone else,”

A scoff he passed—“How very original, at least my daddy has the power and how is yours, at all better?” he let his words trail off, a smirk on his lips as he pulled a chair to lounge in, and well, all cases be true, his dad probably had more money than you could imagine.

The certain charm of Gojos, after all.

“Don’t gotta flex your daddy’s sex work like that buddy,” you muttered, pulling a chair across him—peculiar you found it that he didn’t do so much as throw a fit in objection to the forced responsibility.

“Just giving inspiration baby,” he drew out—he winked, phone pulled out fast as he typed, you sat by forgotten.

A roll of your eyes—“Help me at least,”

Silence- you sighed.

“You’re supposed to help,” again, the very same cold air met you—“Gojo,”

“Nope.”

A sharp intake of breath and you stared at him, had it not been for the pretty face he had you’d have punched him long ago—a second too long you stared however, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,”

Another eye roll—“Just fucking help me,”

“Ain’t gotta princess,” he finally looked up, “I’m here to advise you right?”

An inhale, exhale—biting down on your teeth you nodded, “Of course,” you muttered—which was what had led you to the current situation, tired, exasperated and annoyed.

An hour and a half, slow—very, spent staring a few times at the blank paper and then the ceiling, often Satoru Gojo and then his phone; a couple ideas popped by here and there, all useless—you knew that.

“You know,” you spoke carefully, “As someone who’s helping you bunk without losing attendance, you should really really be thankful,”

“A bouquet will be present in your dorm tonight doll,” not a single glance spared still—it was frustrating simply to sit such.

A sharp exhale you let out, head hung back—this was a stupid idea.

“You know what?” Chair pushed back, you stood up—“I’ll manage,” fingers clutched hard onto your notepad—it hurt when he didn’t do so much as even shrug as you moved towards the door.

Silence, as you turned the handle of the door to leave—not even a look from him.

You despised him.

#6942619412: Yo [11:54 p.m.]

Your eyes narrowed at the sudden text that popped up—ignorance enveloped you still, eyes focused onto the book of applied physics in front of you—regret boring into you as you tried your best to drill the concepts into you, preparing yourself for the soon-to-end semester exams.

#6942619412: busy? [11:56 p.m.]

You ignored still, creeped a little at the protrusion—not enough to let your book down—

#6942619412: idc [11:58 p.mp]

#6942619412: show me your plans [11:58 p.m.]

Face scrunched in annoyance, you stared at your screen—the periodic chimes of notification and the switch from the dull background to immediate light up—Satoru Gojo was somehow a master at infuriating you.

However, as stubborn as lay, you were no better—‘ignorance is bliss’ they said, and you were all too prepared to test it out.

#6942619412: bro wtf. Reply. [12:03 a.m.]

You noted mentally, the time gap between his texts—a sly smile adorning your face. Something in you screamed to not do it—to not go against Satoru Gojo such—the certain something fell to deaf ears as a shit-eating grin you beheld, typing your words in.

You: it’s pathetic of you to message like this [12:03 a.m.]

You: desperate? [12:03 a.m.]

A minute went by, then another—you sighed.

It was perhaps, a bad idea— chime!!

#6942619412: it’s needy of you to message back [12:04 a.m.]

#6942619412: you desperate? [12:04 a.m.]

A smirk—yours, a smirk—his.

You: you realize the first text of your day is to me? [12:04 a.m.]

#6942619412: you realize you’re taking note of how my day goes? [12:05 a.m.]

You: because you decided to bother me in mine—get to whatever you were saying [12:05 a.m.]

#6942619412: there there princess—I demand respect and send me your ideas- or better still I’ll come over to your dorm [12:06 a.m.]

Your eyes remained fixed at the screen; ‘come at your dorm’? Was he stupid?

You: there’s no need to come here gojo. I’ll send you everything right now.

You waited, patiently, however, ever so cruel—time was always slow, especially when waiting onto someone. 5 minutes grudged slow- you were afraid that he would actually show up. Would he?

No, of course not— even for him this was absurd, given the security and the time at night—he was probably asleep—

Knock.

A twist of your window pane’s handle- a thud of your heart and widened set of eyes.

Another knock and you were at your feet, stupidly, opening the window—widening it to welcome Satoru Gojo is your room—scandalous.

A smirk he held, form towering yours by a decent couple inches, “Neat room,” he whistled as he stood awkward, unsure onto whether to place himself until he found your study—making himself comfortable on the spot you just sat.

“Applied physics?” Curiosity laced his voice and a shrug you responded with — “So what?” You muttered, reaching in to close the book—he certainly took note of the tiredness your voice held.

“So you’re an idiot—it’s a tough field.”

Another shrug—“Gets me going and nothing could’ve sucked more than chemistry so,”

A snort he lay bare—only then did you realize how quiet it was, soft breaths, the new morning dancing about the timelines—your gaze on his, and his on yours. How so eccentric—not.

“You couldn’t deal with chemistry? Gotta be dumb or some shit,”

You scoffed—knowing where he was leading it, “do we really need me to redo the whole ‘got in because of your dad’ shit here?”

He grinned wide—and just then you noticed the perfect set of teeth—the ones you’d hoped to punch and break some day, “I think I’d wanna skip it tonight baby,”

“Don’t call me that,”

“Prissy, eh?”

A scrunch of your face, a wink his.

“Why, and dare I ask, how, did you get here?” Brows raised, expression amused as he paced about your room—taking it in, familiarizing himself.

“Don’t worry onto that doll, just show me your ideas,”

Your eye twitched, it was simply alien to you—the feeling of being treated normal by him. By Satoru Gojo- reality set in straight Every Time you realized that something in you, even if small, craved his attention, his validation.

Maybe that was why you were hurt—when he’d ignored you initially, when he’d shove you in the hall without a thought spared—when his gaze was all so disrespectful Everytime you approached Him.

Maybe it was just the social construct of it all.

Maybe it was something else.

So surprise was bound to grip you hard— he wanted your ideas?

“Well?” Fidgety, you noted his actions to be—nervous? You wouldn’t be sure.

“Why?”

A shrug, half hearted, “I heard stuff on you,” and now your interest sat piqued, “They say you’re as good as me when it comes down to getting shit done,” a wink—you gagged internally at his words- his charm?

Not quite so.

“You’ve been snooping around since the past week? Got you that hooked?” A smirk you channeled, unsure still- suspicious more so.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered—his eyes were quicker, quicker that yours, cerulean, I suppose something to do with the color of them—all too pretty to have one care about anything besides themselves.

“I’ve heard of your accomplishments beforehand, you know it—you just weren’t so important and most of the time I was trying to stay off your radar,” his face panned towards the shelf you kept full of books—“but you did interest me,”

A scoff let’s your lips, “Anything with a vagina and boobs will interest you,”

“Hey now-” and for a second he seemed offended, not that you cared, “don’t forget about the ass—and please, I sincerely accept dicks too.” And just at that you chuckled slightly—a small win he deemed it, “man-whore,” you muttered past him- closing your books and grabbing onto the notepad from before.

“Here,” you handed it over— a sudden feeling of embarrassment washing over—after all, as much of a jerk he was, Satoru Gojo sincerely was experienced and amazing at what he did.

Lips pursed, you stared as he read through the stuff- “I know it’s all too-” a hand raised to quieten you, he continued reading—quick at that too.

It took him a minute or so, to go through each of the 4 pages you’d jotted down—“Not bad,” you nodded, “not the best,” you bit your tongue.

“I uh- i know it’s a little extravagant?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “or more so, it’s not very realistic? You have steps planned out and …you know, it’s supposed to be done by humans not machines,”

Your eyes raised in understanding, you weren’t too sure, but just enough.

“Put yourself into it—you’re cool you know that?,” eyes squinted, you watched him carefully- not a word let out.

“Just a little…uptight, learn to let go,”

“how do I…?”

He grinned, “have fun figuring that out—the ideas were cool, gotta go now doll,” you blinked once, twice, and without a word he was gone—you let him. However could you even ever stop him?

And you knew well, the rumbling in your room was sure to get your father awake.

A click on the lock—you closed the window behind him—swift was the way he came about, annoying, the way he left. And yet you still stood alone in the room, pacing about with a dorkish smile.

And only five minutes after he’d left, after the daze was gone—you noticed the bouquet of jasmines on your bedside—huh.

Certainly understood the charm now—especially when your eyes focused onto your phone right before closing.

#6942619412: you’re actually cute when you’re not frowning yk? [1:05 a.m.]

You went to sleep.

~Three weeks before the Fest~

“I’d say it’s coming along amazing,” another fruit roll up popped into his mouth—the fifth packet in last three hours, you were only surprised how he wasn’t sick of them yet.

A nod you passed—“but they’re slow-”

“-because they’re people, they are bound to be slow,”

Another nod.

There was something that Satoru Gojo did help you with, and there was something you’d helped him with as well—his eyes panned onto the elaborate list of numbers he’d gathered, oh how you’d spun the man, Satoru ‘never gonna help nobody’ Gojo into your actual assistant.

“Tell me though, when will you order the booze?”

“It’s an official thing- how can you expect booze to be there?�� A ridiculed laugh met you—“ever heard of sneaking shit in princess?”

Of course you had, given that Satoru Gojo snuck himself into your room almost every night, uninvited—so far as to snickering when you squeaked out lies to your father about talking to your friends.

“Shut up, there will be no beverage,” he chuckled at your formal tone, beverage, “you and I, or anyone can get expelled for that—it happened last year,”

“You’re your daddy’s only princess though,”

“And you’re not,” a deadpan from you shut him up quick—“dad’s gonna be mad if he finds it, I won’t be expelled but you might, especially given your record and everything—and yes that means your captaincy and everything too,”

A month ago, the nervousness on his face would’ve made you chuckle—giddy maybe but now it only troubled you for him—hours spent on the floor of your bedroom had opened up conversations after all.

“But you’ll save me right?”

He stared at you; you stared back, you noted the closeness.

There was no reply to be offered—but it did ruin the small moment to hear the causal, “Satoru~” from the lips of her, Mei Mei, long time family friend of his and an equatable annoyance to Satoru Gojo.

Both of your faces whipped to meet hers, yours scorned while his broke into a grin—“Oi!” He chuckled—arms spreading out to greet her, hug her.

“Y/n,” she greeted you too, a smile you passed back—part of your council members after all—“how’s the planning going?”

“Fantastic,” tight lipped you muttered—“fabulous,” she grinned, “mind if I steal Toru’ for a second?”

You mentally gagged at her—‘steal Toru for a second’—except those seconds never really were seconds, rather hours and to your utter annoyance, Gojo never add moves to counter it.

“Of course!” And just like that, gone, daily.

A sigh you let out, staring at the preparations—“why’d you let them walk over you all the time?” A deep voice met you, “Suguru?”

A short smile, a short breath of cigarettes met you—in the best way, “Good day to you too,” he grinned, patting the seat beside him, eyes stuck on his best friend and his rendezvous partner.

“You as , and what exactly do you suppose I do? Stop them?”

“He’s your assistant, ain’t he?”

“Yes but-”

“Am I seeing you finally turn into a push-over, like all the other girls when it comes to him?” All in good humor he spoke, but mostly because it was true.

You were bending your walls for a certain someone—it didn’t feel right.

“You think I shouldn’t?”

“I think you should only if this lasts after the rest as well,”

“Will it?”

A pause, a shrug, “I don’t know, ask him.”

You stared at him—“why are you two the legitimate same at advices? And equally bad?” A laugh met you—“go on, ask him—because as of now, Mei Mei seems to have done what she wanted,”

“Huh?”

A look at him and then at them, your heart sank—he was kissing her, your heart sank more, why were you so bothered by it?

A nervous chuckle you passed to Suguru, an empathetic one he did, “it’s fine,”

“Yeah.”

———

It wasn’t fine, hell it was far from fine—especially when you saw them together there on, all the time.

3 weeks, dates here and there—she was around you all the time, and him, it was infuriating in all aspects of the word.

“Who’re you going with?” Almost everyday he questioned, and you never had an answer because somehow, just something in you had made you reject every proposal—something in you supposed that you two would go together.

You were the organizers—but then, it was no rule.

And even if it was, Satoru Gojo wasn’t big on rules.

“Ready?” Suguru grinned, last minute date that you’d found—all so grateful that you stood.

A small nod with a smile you passed—“how do I look?”

“Gorgeous,” another smile, wider—eyes however, they remained stuck onto Gojo.

“It’s not about him tonight doll,”

“It’s never about him,” you mumbled—melancholy—ironic onto how the entire fest that you’d built was based off of youth and what not.

But it was about him, everything was about him- especially in the way your dress, bought just for the occasion was the same cerulean, your hair was braided just how he once mentioned liking, you were wearing the perfume he bought you for you.

Everything.

And you despised all of this everything while having nothing.

“Yo! Y/n,” you paused, Suguru did too—his smirk widening, as did Mei Mei’s, Satoru walked- sauntered over.

“Don’t you look hot?” The grin was wide, your nose scrunched in disgust, “you’re reeking of alcohol,”

He was—of course he was, right after you’d advised him not to.

“Chill, nobody’s gonna know-”

“-we have to meet my dad in 15 minutes.”

“…oh.”

“Well anyways, I see you came with Suguru? You’ve been getting close?”

Your eye twitched—so he did see it—“yeah he’s cool, and helpful, unlike you,”

A giggle, “I have a life outside of you, remember?” Your blood boiled—“of course you do, enjoy it.”

A sharp turn you made, lips bitten, unsure, uncertain—“Honestly though, if I weren’t with Mei tonight I’d actually fuck ya “

Your jaw clenched at the audacity—the other two, Suguru and Mei Mei long disappeared as you flared daggers into Satoru’s soul.

“Can you take one thing seriously? You- you bloody idiot I can’t even-” you whipped around to face him again—eyes boring into his.

Satoru, even in his drunken state knew it would last long, the lecture, a hand pulled you in very quick, a corner, secluded.

“Stop fucking shouting,” slurred his words, they lay bare.

“What do you want me to do then? You- you- I- ugh.” You paused, hard breaths let out—“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Annoying? You’re the one screaming woman,” the small smirk that he adored annoyed you all the more so.

“Excuse you? I’m annoying?” And at that moment, you let go, “I’m annoying after you spent three weeks fucking with Mei Mei? I’m annoying after you’re the one acting irresponsible? I’m annoying after you ended up treating me like all your others girls? I’m annoying after- after you just chose to walk all over me- I’m annoy- mmph!”

Words lay interrupted quick, a rough hand reeled you in while the other held your head, the kiss was soft, passionate of one would call it, sloppy in the way his lips attached to yours, hungry.

And amusingly, unlike all things Gojo, this did not feel wrong.

But it wouldn’t help your emotions being all over the place—“what the fuck?” You asked, the moment he pulled away—“was it that bad?” An amused chuckle rolled off his lips.

“No? You can’t do this- we can’t just kiss- I-”

“-okay, then take it back,” and just like that, he pulled you in again, lips attaching once more, hands exploring each other easy, slow gasps of breath as you pushed him away this time.

“N-no you- I don’t- what? You take it back,” and almost as if his alcohol was on your mind too, you pulled him in this time—a small peck, harsh, Satoru loved it all the same.

Frustrated you pulled away, grinning his hand held your wrist—“don’t go,” he mumbled, your face contorted into the expression which screamed your annoyance.

“Don’t go? Fuck you Gojo. Fuck you and your damn ego and the audacity you have,” your breaths were shallow, the two stood so close.

“Don’t kiss me when you’re with someone else—you might be a whore but-”

“It was for you,” another mumble, quieter, “to get you jealous and I think it worked?”

A pause.

“And The alcohol?” You whispered—he loved it though, the way you prioritised the reputation above him—somehow you humanised him, “only I’ve drunk it, no one else—to…get your attention,”

“But you never drink…”

“And I never fucked Mei either, or kissed her…or anyone since you,”

“That’s supposed to make me feel special?” It did, but you were done for the day.

“I think so…?”

You blink, once, twice and instead of the third that Satoru expected a sharp slap landed on his face.

“You’re very fucking dumb,” while one hand clutched the cheek he’d been hit at, the other still held your hand, pulling you closer when he heard your choked words—eyes widening at the wetness in your eyes.

“L/n…” a sigh, “fuck I’m- fuck.” He held you close, unnatural to your relation, you let yourself be held.

————

“Sorry?”

You glared at him, the Music blared behind you loud— the both of you stood outside your father’s office, “we’ll deal with that later.”

A slight nod, Satoru was glad you even agreed to talk to him, Satoru was glad you even looked at him—Satoru was simply glad you were standing beside him.

A knock, two more, you walked inside—Satoru, as advised by you stood outside—your father would know of course, instantly.

The room seemed a breath of freshness as you walked, away from the stench that Satoru held, “where’s Gojo?” You were prepared for the question.

“Do you like the fest?” You father was prepared for the dodge—he hummed, “you both did good together, as I supposed,” you hummed.

“He won’t be coming?”

“He’s busy,” you lied through your teeth, “some kids snuck in alcohol, he’s dealing with it,” you were sure you caught your father’s smirk—“that would be highly…inappropriate,”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “of course, we’ll see to it that they’re punished well,”

Your father hummed again, “having a good time?”

“Wonderful,” your father grinned, “well, you can go then but…maybe not today but I do hope meet your assistant soon after, kind of tired of seeing him sneak in through the windows,”

“Dad?!”

“What? You’re grown up and I’ve seen the potential and I kind of think opposites do attract, and you proved me right so,”

Idiots, all around you.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

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augiewrites · 1 year ago

Text

"secret admirer" - dead poets society (part 5)

summary: y/n receives a curious invitation from meeks and has a surprise encounter with neil and todd

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.2k

previous | next

It was finally Friday, and Y/N was looking forward to spending the weekend recovering from a week of non-stop exams, cramming, and a nonexistent sleep schedule. The morning’s classes had been a drag so far, and they were looking forward to the reprieve of Keating’s class. Knowing they'd be in close proximity to their admirer aside, Keating’s class gave them an opportunity to activate another part of their brain—one concerned less with grades and formulas.

No, this part was more concerned with matters of feeling. Matters of love, art, expression—everything crucial to finding true meaning in life.

Meaning.

Something that Y/N’s life—and the students of Welton’s lives—was severely lacking.

Y/N shoved the existential crisis to the back of their mind, shooting Todd a smile as he occupied the desk at the front of the class.

Their desk compartment was empty aside from their textbook and notes. Y/N felt their heart drop. It had been empty for days.

Did I make a mistake leaving that poem?

Y/N did their best to not look disappointed. The only thing more embarrassing than their poet’s lack of response was the thought of him observing their discontent.

Keating’s class didn't give them much reprieve that day.

_________________________________________

Against their better judgment, Y/N found themselves in the library during common hour. In all truth, Y/N just wanted to go back to their dorm and bang their head against the wall until they fell asleep. Alas, the expectation of a 4.0 GPA was looming over their head.

Thankfully, Meeks was the only other person to show up. Y/N didn't think they had the strength to deal with Dalton.

“So are you just going to keep side eyeing me, or do you have something to say?” Y/N set down their pencil and turned to face Meeks.

“Y/N, you've sighed three times within the last minute,” Meeks quipped, "seems like you're the one with something to say."

“But I'm right, though. You have something you want to say."

“I'll share with the class if you will.”

The two stared at each other for a moment—Meeks' expression much lighter compared to Y/N’s frustrated features.

Y/N gave in first.

“I’m tired, Meeks."

“Of?..."

“Everything.”

“You’re going to have to give me a little more here, Y/N.”

“…”

"I'm waiting."

“My GPA dropped to a 3.7," Y/N’s gaze was fixed to the table, “my parents are not happy. I feel like all I ever do is try, but it's not enough, and it never will be. My social life is practically nonexistent, I don't remember the last time I had fun, and I can feel my spirit dying. Some days it feels like I'm dying."

“You’re more than your grades, Y/N. You have to know that."

“I know that, Meeks. They don't,” Y/N let out a bitter laugh, “they ship me off to this prison, don't let me come home for breaks, and they call me maybe twice a semester if I'm lucky. They see my grades more than they ever see me."

Meeks was silent for a beat as Y/N cradled their head in their hands.

“Tomorrow night. Meet me outside the East wing at 10PM.”

“Meeks, what are you—“

“Just trust me. If you care about your spirit, anyway."

“Fine,” Y/N began packing their bag and stood up, nodding absentmindedly, "yeah, okay."

Because everything was cosmically determined to go wrong, Y/N crashed into Charlie as they rounded the corner out of the library. Their armload of textbooks crashed to the floor.

“Don’t you know to look both ways before crossing the street?" Charlie joked as he knelt to pick up Y/N’s books.

Y/N kept their head down as they gathered the mess of note paper that exploded out of their trig book.

“I mean, really, Y/N. If you want to feel me up you don't need to be so aggressive about it—“

Charlie’s sly smile melted into concern when he noticed the tears in Y/N’s eyes.

"Hey, are you okay, Y/N?” Charlie passed the books to Y/N and placed a gentle hand on their upper am.

Y/N gave the boy a tight lipped smile and stepped away from his touch.

“I'm fine, Dalton," Y/N was already moving down the hall.

“Y/N—“

“If you're looking for Meeks, he's still in there."

Y/N disappeared around the corner, leaving Charlie staring at the space they just occupied.

_________________________________________

Y/N wasn’t one for skipping class, but it was the last period of the day and Y/N thought their head would explode if they didn’t get away from everyone as soon as possible.

They triple checked that the hallway was empty before rushing into the storage room filled with students’ empty luggage.

But the room wasn’t unoccupied like they expected.

Neil Perry and Todd Anderson were in the middle of the room, locked in a gentle embrace.

They jumped apart when they heard Y/N’s soft sound of surprise, and the trio looked at each other in shock for a beat.

“We were just—” Neil took a step away from Todd before the other boy cut him off, surprising everyone, seemingly including himself.

“We’re together.”

They all stared at each other for another moment before Neil stepped forward again.

“You can’t tell anyone, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” Y/N blinked, suddenly coming alive again, “I would never.”

Relief washed over the two boys. Todd was more red than Y/N thought was humanly possible.

“Okay, I’m just gonna,” Y/N took a step back and jerked a thumb over their shoulder at the door, “go…”

They turned quickly to leave.

“Y/N.” Neil’s hand enclosed their wrist as they reached for the doorknob.

They looked up into Neil’s soft gaze, a faint smile on his face, “thank you.”

“Of course,” they returned the smile and waved to Todd as they slipped out the door, rushing to their dorm to avoid being caught for truancy.

_________________________________________

Y/N had been laying in bed for all of fifteen minutes before they heard the familiar sound of paper sliding under the door.

They were out of bed and rushing to open the door before they could think twice. Truancy be damned.

The empty hallway mocked Y/N.

Frustrated tears welled in their eyes as they slammed the door and grabbed the envelope off the floor before ripping it open.

Beloved Y/N,

In your eyes, a storm silently brews, Emotional tempest, tears it strews. I stand close, a silent observer, Love entangled in your pain, a fervent preserver.

Your hurt, a whisper in the quiet air, A shared burden, a weight to bear. In the shadows, love stands strong, A balm for wounds, a solace lifelong.

In the heart's tempest, emotions entwine, Love persists, a steadfast lifeline. I may not heal all that pains your soul, But together, in love, we find a way to be whole.

x, Yours.

Y/N let the tears flow freely as they sunk down onto the bed.

They were certain of who wasn’t their poet, but they were in denial about who it could be.

~~~

part six

a/n: any reality where neil and todd aren't in love is a crime against nature

taglist: @vvnbxz @edb954

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legitalicat · 11 months ago

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Out of Time

Chapter 1 - "Along Blackwater Bay"

AN: This dedication has been removed. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy your works.

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: Princess Y/N Velaryon awakes on the shore of Blackwater Bay confused, hurt, and alone. She is found and escorted to the Red Keep, where she learns the circumstances surrounding her awakening.

TW: memory loss, reader is AFAB, talks/descriptions of injury, first person POV because I suck at any other POV I am sorry

Word count: 3.7 K

I awoke on the shores of King’s Landing, the water from Blackwater Bay rushing up my lower legs. My heart was pounding as I sat up. There was no reasonable explanation as to how I ended up here. Last night I went to sleep in my bed, feeling rather warm and fuzzy from the wine I had consumed at dinner.

The early morning light was shining through the mist that was coming off the water. Slowly, I made my way into a standing position. My black dress was torn around the hem, soaked from the sea water. My muscles were sore and my bones stiff. Every breath I took felt as though I was being punched in the left side. I was near certain my brown hair was wild, no longer in the neat braid I most commonly kept it in.

There weren’t any citizens on the shores this time of morning. For many, they would have already went out in their boats to begin their fishing for the day. The others, it was simply too early to start the day. However, I did see two city watchmen doing their rounds on the docks.

“Excuse me!” I shouted to them, waving my arms. They approached me, their gold cloaks shining in the sun. I recognized neither of them.

“Princess Y/N?” One asked as he stopped in front of me. I nodded softly. “Come with us.”

I could not really tell which guardsmen they were. They were in full armor, donning a helm and chainmail covering all but their eyes. Being roughly the same height as each other, that wasn’t even helpful to determine who I was following. However, I knew that nobody wearing golden cloaks would bring any harm to me. My stepfather would have their heads if my mother didn’t get to them first.

So, I made the only decision I could make in this instance. Silence laid over us like a thick fog as I walked with them through the city streets. One in front of me, one behind me, their hands on the swords at all times. We went to the barracks at which point they told me to stay in the front room. The one that had walked in front of me went off , I suppose to inform his commander of this situation, while the other man stood in the room with me. It was not long before there were a few other watchmen and even a serving girl to sit with me.

Nobody dared to speak to me other than what was necessary. Even when I threatened them with my status, first born child of the heir to the Iron Throne and betrothed to her heir, so that one day I would be Queen, did not loosen their tongues. None of my questions were answered. All that was said was that my mother would answer any question I had.

They spent longer than I thought necessary preparing a carriage to take me up to the Red Keep. I was almost certain I heard their commander send a small group of men to shut down the streets between here and the Red Keep but that couldn’t be right. Never had the streets been closed because of my travels, as there had never been a time that I was in danger. Once he received word that all the streets were closed and nobody would be looking to the street, I was put into a carriage.

My ride to the Red Keep was done with the singular maid in the carriage with me, one watchmen controlling the carriage, and three others riding around on horseback. They weren’t brought to my precession until after I was already in my seat. And still, nobody spoke to me. I could only glance out the windows at the city to try to see the citizens of King’s Landing, but it seemed though I had heard the Watch’s Commander correctly and the men did completely empty the streets.

It was midday by the time that the carriage stopped in front of the door to the keep. The door was opened and I was offered a hand to help me out. It was the first protocol that had been kept in my presence. And now that I was on the ground, I finally saw the first people besides the Gold Cloaks and the maid.

At the top of the stairs stood my mother, my step grandmother holding her hand tightly as they both looked at the carriage. Queen Alicent had always been a forceful presence in my life, demanding things of my mother and father that were crude and unfair. Though she never liked my brothers, I seemed to be near and dear to her in a way that not even her own daughter was. One could almost convince me she viewed me separately from them as though I were anyone but my mother’s daughter.

Flanking each of them were their respective sides of the family. My twin, my betrothed, Jacaerys stood beside my mother. He was more shocked than I had ever seen him when we made eye contact. There was Lucerys beside him, who looked older than he should as he was a man grown, and the same could just about be said about Joffrey. The other two boys on my mother’s side could’ve only been Aegon III and Viserys II, my two baby brothers, but they were not babies. They were easily nine and seven respectively. It shouldn’t have been possible. It was only last night that they could have easily fit in my arms, now they were half my height.

When I looked to Alicent’s side, Aegon and Aemond stood beside her with Helaena further back. Her three children, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor stood hand in hand beside of her. Again, everyone looked older than they should, older than when last I saw them.

My step father Daemon and my step sisters Rhaena and Baela were not with my mother, but the maid whispered to me that they were visiting our grandparents in Driftmark. She gave me no answers to any other question.

Out of everyone, there were three people that desperately wanted to break free from the crowd. Obviously my mother was trying to hold some decorum, some sort of semblance of what it means to be a Targaryen, even though I could see her inching closer. Jace was completely frozen with shock, the pull that existed between us not enough to motivate his feet. Then there was Aemond, who seemed to be willing to disregard all things that could be considered proper as he took the steps two at a time to close the distance between us.

His arms were around me before I could blink, and despite the physical pain when he touched my side, it caused a comfortable feeling in my brain that soothed something inside of me. I returned his affections, desperate for some sort of connection. As much as it had always annoyed my brothers, Aemond and I were very close growing up. He and I were the last to get dragons, the last to fulfill what it means to be a Targaryen. It binds you in ways that you can’t explain to anyone else.

“Byka zaldrīzes,” he whispered to me. Little Dragon, the name he gave me the moment he claimed Vhagar, to assure me one day I would have one too. “How I have missed you.”

“I don’t understand, Aemond. Why is everyone acting as though I am not real? One would think I died.” I asked him, loud enough so that my voice would carry.

“You have been gone for nearly six years,” my mother said. I pulled myself from Aemond’s grip to look at her.

“What?” my voice was cracked under the pressure that was building in my chest. “No. No. I was just with you all last night. I would know if I had been gone.”

Then I turned my gaze to Jace, who still looked as though he has seen a ghost. His inability to come to me, the way he watched me like I was about to dissolve in the wind, not even commenting on Aemond’s grasp on me, it told me all I need to know. The words were true and I had missed out on six years.

But I needed him beside me. He was my brother, my twin, I have existed for as long as he has and will continue to exist as long as he does. We were written in the stars, always destined for each other. We had given each other everything as we knew we were to be married one day.

“Issa dārys,” I called to him. My king. He will be my king one day, a good husband and father to my future children. We will rule the kingdom together, side by side. We’ve known this for our entire lives, and once we could really understand it, there was no turning back.

He slowly descended the stairs to me. Our eyes stayed glued to each other as he closed the distance. My body yearned for him. He was my other half; we were not two separate entities, simply just two pieces of the same soul.

When he was within arm’s reach of me, his ability to show restraint faltered. He grabbed me by the face and kissed me, all regard for propriety out the window. But it wasn’t as though I minded. I belonged to Jace, I always had, so it was only natural that I returned his affections. Propriety be damned.

It was less than a minute, rather tame compared to all other kisses we’ve shared, but the moment it was over, I become increasingly aware of cracks forming in my heart. His forehead resting against mine, I could guarantee I was home. I was safe as long as we were together.

My mother had informed me that I was not to be alone for the coming weeks. When we were alone in the room I had growing up here, she held me to her and cried. She insisted on me having a bath before I see the Maesters. A few of her most trusted maids helped me out of my dress and into the bath. The way her face contorted in mental anguish, tears forming in her eyes, as she looked over my body was something I would never forget. A glance in a mirror showed I had bruises and scars scattered across my body, including over my ribcage on the left, and a busted lip I was unaware of until now.

“If it brings any comfort, I do not remember it happening,” I said to her quietly as she sat beside the tub. There was a failed attempt to prove to her I was okay as I went to pour water over my hair, but the stretching motion caused enough pain I lost my breath.

“It causes me more worry than anything,” she told me. Her voice was fragile in the same way a flower is, soft and delicate, able to be broken in one move if anyone chose. “But it is nothing you need to fret over. We shall have the Maesters examine you and treat you, in a few weeks it will be as though this didn’t happen.”

Mother asked the maids to go inform the Maesters of our need and then sent one to bring me food from the kitchens. I think it was in equal part that she needed to feel useful but also needing to just be alone with me. There was no part of my brain that could even fathom what she had been feeling for these years.

She caught me up on all of the happenings in our family while she washed me. The night I had gone missing, my grandsire was greeted by The Stranger. She lost the babe she had been pregnant with within a few days of that, a girl that was named Visenya. It was an impossible amount of grief to deal with in such a short time and all I wanted was to take away all of her pain and suffering.

“Did Otto not try to put Aegon on the throne?” I whispered to her as she took her time gently washing my hair. She refused to let it wait for the maids, insisting that five years is long enough for someone else to care for me.

“He wanted to, but when I sent Alicent a letter informing her of your disappearance, she halted her father’s plans,” she told me. “Nobody, not Aegon nor Aemond, cared for the throne after you were gone.”

“But why? She has hated you for as long as I can remember. They have hated us for just as long. What difference did I make?” I asked.

“Oh sweet girl, they have never hated you. I cannot say how they felt about your brothers, nor can I deny the resentment Alicent and I have felt for one another. You, however, have been loved throughout it all. You were the light of your grandsire’s life, Alicent has adored you from the moment she laid eyes on you. Aegon and Aemond both used to beg for your hand. You, darling, take after your father.” She ran the water through my hair, rinsing all of the dirt and oils from it. I ran my right hand through it, as that was the only arm I could lift so high without crying, and it felt much cleaner than it had before.

“Which father?” I spoke, barely above a whisper, standing with her assistance.

“Both Laenor and Ser Harwin loved you dearly, as they were both loved by you. You enchanted them from the moment you made your entrance into the world, and you did so until they died. You are both of them, the best of them, in a perfect package.”

I could only nod. Jace and I knew from a very young age that Laenor was not our blood. He claimed us all the same, cared for us as much as he could. Ser Harwin, though, made every difference in our lives. Even if Luke wasn’t completely aware, our father spent every moment he could watching over us. He trained with the boys every morning, attended my lessons as much as possible, trained me in swords in the eve. He was there for Luke’s birth, was there within a few hours of Joffrey’s. And the love he held for my mother, to be willing to love her from a distance and sire children he could never claim…it was admirable.

“Jace never married,” I stated. It was not a question, but an observation. I knew far too well that if he had, he would never have put the shame on his wife that would’ve been given to her when he kissed me so publicly.

“The two of you share a special connection. He could not bring himself to agree to any marriage proposal until we knew one way or another. He said that he would only be with his other half unless there were no other options,” she spoke softly. She helped me into a new dress, a beautiful sea green color to represent House Velaryon.

“So, until my body washed ashore somewhere?” I asked, a ghost of a laugh coming through. I could see a frown slowly creeping onto her face. “Mother, I’m sorry. I can’t Imagine how difficult the last few years have been.”

“You are back now, my darling girl. That is what matters,” she told me, sitting me in the nearest chair so that she could braid my hair. “Aegon asked me to annul his marriage to Helaena. Their’s was not a happy one, I do not wish that upon any of my family.”

I was grateful for her gentle touch as she worked carefully with my hair. It wasn’t as though my mother had ever been rough with me, but there was a gentleness that she always seemed to have whenever we were sick or hurt.

The first time Jace flew on Vermax, he pulled me onto the saddle. We both returned blistered and aching. Yet once it hit midnight and my fever had fully set in, it was realized I had an Infection because I wasn’t wearing proper dragon riding clothes and my skin was rubbed off until I was bleeding. She sat by my side for nearly a week then. She prayed to nearly every god, even the ones she had no faith in, and she was so soft with me you would think she was a mere common woman instead of the future Queen.

“And Aemond?” I asked her once she pulled her hands away from my hair.

“Refuses to marry. He has wanted to marry you since the two of you attempted to run off to Dragonstone when you were children,” she chuckled. “If I did not know you, I would say that was his idea.”

“In my defense, we had been speaking about the Valyrian traditions that have been lost. He and I were going to marry in the tradition of Valyria and then Jace and I would marry under the Seven,” I told her, a smile on my face.

I was approximately five years old when that became our plan in life. Aegon the Conqueror had two wives, so I would have two husbands. Of course, whenever Jace was told about this plan, he vehemently denied me. He said he would give me everything that I would ever need when he was king.

“He was hoping that Jace would find a new bride, so that when you came back he could have you,” she told me, taking my hands in hers. “Before you ask, yes. He was certain you would come back. He spent nearly a year searching all of Westeros for you on Vhagar. He only returned at the request of Helaena.”

“What do I do, mama?” I whispered. “It has been so long, so much has changed. Little Aegon and Viserys won’t even know me. Is Vhaela even alive?”

Vhaela was my dragon. She had been a wild dragon that approached King’s landing near six moons before my eighteenth nameday. She was the most gorgeous shade of amethyst, her scales glittering in the sunlight whenever I flew her. She had rested on a mountain not far out from the city and I snuck out of the castle to get a closer look. Never had I known of a dragon who was so calm and regal when being approached. It was like she was royalty and she knew exactly what the difference between us was. It was this confidence she carried that lead me to attempt to claim her, and she graciously agreed to a partnership with me.

“Vhaela is in the Dragon Pit. She enjoys flying when Aemond and Jace go, I believe she feels close enough to you through them to allow them to care for her. As for your younger brothers, we did not let them forget. They know you, not in the same way they know Jace, Luke, and Joffrey, but you are not a stranger to them,” she assured me. Her voice did not waiver in this. It was instead supported by a firmness that could only result from a confident truth.

She turned me to face her directly, hands starting to squeeze mine. The look on her face was so tender, so comforting, I wasn’t sure what to do except let a few tears leave my eyes. It all felt so overwhelming, and there was no certainty as to what I should do.

“You wished to be betrothed to Jace at a young age. Do you still wish it?” she asked me quietly. “Or does your heart desire another?”

“I love Jace with my entire being,” I told her firmly. It was everything I could do to ignore how my heart began racing.

“Save for the piece of your heart that has long been held by Aemond.”

My head dropped. There was nobody that I had ever told of my affections for Aemond. He had never exactly been subtle, that I would admit. A year before Luke’s claim to Driftmark was questioned, my Grandsire the King had requested my appearance at court. He wished to spend time with me. And during that time, Aemond and I grew as close as we were as children. Maybe even closer.

But that did not matter. Those were the adventures of a young girl. I was promised to Jace formally when my family came to King’s Landing. Any affections that I had for Aemond was left behind in that moment.

The kisses that we shared In the library or in the gardens were innocent. The nights spent in my chambers, talking until the sun comes up. We absolutely did not do anything that was considered something that could ruin me. We did not make each other come undone for hours every night.

“That was a girl’s exploits. I belong with Jace, we were brought into the world together and together we shall always be,” I said while trying to keep my voice steady as hers. Yet, when it came to the overwhelming truth of Aemond and I, I was never steady. And so I turned away from her, withdrawing my hands from her touch. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her stand.

“I only wish to see you happy, to marry for love and not for duty,” she told me, taking a flower from a vase nearby and sticking it in my hair. “Allow yourself to court both of them. There have been many changes during your time gone. When you have been made completely sure, I will not question your mind again.”

Before I could say anything in response, knock on the door echoed through the room. The Maesters were here to examine my injuries. Instinctually I turned to face mother, who silently promised me she was not leaving. With a deep and painful breath, I was able to nod and allow them inside.

#dividers by benkeibear #aemond targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #out of time

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pleistocene-pride · 11 months ago

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The secretarybird or secretary bird is a species of is a large, mostly terrestrial, bird of prey which is endemic to sub-saharan Africa. The secretarybird prefers to inhabit open grasslands, savannas, shrublands, and highlands rather than rainforests, swamps, and woodlands. In these habitats Secretarybirds will form monogamous pairs and defend a large territory of around 19 square miles ( 50 km2), and while capable of flight secretary birds are a primarily terrestrial animal. Hunting in pairs or with there offspring they stalk through there habitat in long careful strides in search of prey such as large invertebrates, lizards, amphibians, small turtles and tortoises, hares, hedgehogs, rodents, polecats, small felines, young gazelle, mongoose, birds up to the size of guinea fowl, and especially snakes. Once found a secretarybird will chase after prey with the wings spread and kill by striking with swift blows of the feet. Standing around 4.3ft (1.3m) tall, 3.7 to 4.11ft (1.1 to 1.5m) in body length, with a 6.3 to 6.11ft (1.9 to 2.1m) wingspan. The secretarybird is a large instantly recognizable bird with an eagle-like body on crane-like legs, featherless red-orange face and predominantly grey plumage, with a flattened dark crest and black flight feathers and thighs.Breeding may occur year round and during courtship, they exhibit a nuptial display by soaring high with undulating flight patterns and calling with guttural croaking. Males and females can also perform a ground display by chasing each other with their wings up and back. Both sexes build a relatively flat 3 to 5ft (1 to 1.5m) wide platform nest out of sticks and grasses at the top of a dense thorny tree, some 8 to 40ft (2.5 to 13m) above the ground. Here 1 to 3 chalky blueish whiteish green eggs are laid and incubated for 45 days until hatching. The young remain with there parents until becoming independent at some 4 to 7 months of age. Under ideal conditions a secretarybird may live upwards of 15 years.

#pleistocene pride #pleistocene #pliestocene pride #pliestocene #cenozoic #ice age #stone age #dinosaur #bird #secretarybird #secretary #secretary bird

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polish-art-tournament · 10 months ago

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round 3.7 poll 2

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Kucie kos (Scythe forging) from the series "Polonia" by Artur Grottger, 1863:

about the artist: grottger was a poor little meow meow who really wanted to participate in the uprising in 1863. he even came to lwów to join. but all his friends were like ARTUR BABY NO!!!!! YOU ARE A SICKLY CHILD (he was like 25 or something) so he stayed at home and while the uprising was happening he made the Polonia series depicting scenes from insurgents' lives. his brother was an insurgent and got exiled to siberia for it btw. and grottger also made a Lithuania series bc he was all about that Commonwealth restitution cause. and he continued to be obsessed with the uprising but who can blame him. i mean he also painted other things both historical and portraits of his contemporaries but this is what he is famous for i think

Pożegnanie Europy (Farewell to Europe) by Aleksander Sochaczewski, c.1894:

propaganda: Sochaczewski himself was sentenced to katorga and exile to siberia for 20 years and when he came back he painted many paintings portraying the traumatic experiences there. in this painting he portrayed himself and many of the people who shared the same fate, and showed how diverse the group was bc in this painting he shows the poles, the jews, the women, january uprising participants, common criminals, people from different social strata etc all condemned for the same punishment

#aleksander sochaczewski #artur grottger #polish history #siberia #polls #round 3.7

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mechs-track-tournament · 16 days ago

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Round 3.7.1

youtube

#the mechanisms #round 3 #round 3.7 #round 3.7.1 #loki #thor #the bifrost incident #Youtube

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lilyandthegenshinbrainrot · 2 years ago

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venti after casually kicking my ass repeatedly in serious showdown:

#not shown: him telling me to cut him some slack after beating two of her cards as if he hadn't frequently beat me in 4 rounds #smh my head #he just goes “hi traveler :) !! *kills you* *kills you* *kills you* let's drink !!” and you just gotta be okay with that #venti #venti genshin impact #genius invocation tcg #genshin impact 3.7 #lily's rambles #venti beloved #game screenshots #genshin impact

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agentchimendez · 10 months ago

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Sorry for the delay! It's because y'all didn't just write down a single character's name for the written sections like I so desperately asked!

Introducing the results of the 2023 Bittersweet Candy Poll! This was polled back in November-December of 2023, and here are the results of people's favorites, least favorites, most controversial/mixed opinions, and the one with the least opinions!

Click here for 2022's results and here for 2021's. Click the read more to see the total results for this year's poll beyond the top 10s.

Now color coded so you know if they've ranked higher (green) lower (blue) or were a new addition (orange)! Characters who stayed in the same place are listed as normal.

BELOVED

Lucy - 560

Paulo - 559

Augustus - 486

Rachel - 452

Amaya - 442

Daisy - 435

David - 382

Sue - 355

Mike & James - 345

Matt - 342

Molly - 336

Janet - 330

Paulo's Dad - 306

Abbey - 298

Tess - 282

Lucy's Mom - 269

Jessica - 251

Jasmine - 239

Daisy's Dad - 237

Kevin - 224

Zachary - 218

Charlotte - 214

Chris & Catherine - 206

Jordan - 190

Haley - 189

Lily - 185

Daisy's Mom - 181

McCain - 180

Madison - 168

Stacy & Mr. Noodles - 160

Justin - 156

Mike's Mom - 154

Lucy's Dad - 153

Principal - 152

Felix - 150

Amaya's Dad - 147

Chirpy & Lucas - 141

Sam & Finn - 139

Flower Girl - 132

Yashy & Lani - 121

Mina - 119

Darwin - 114

Sandy - 113

Gym Teacher - 102

Blur - 97

Max - 93

Courtney & Melanie - 92

Katie - 88

Sex-Ed Teacher (SET) & Aaron (Rachel's brother) - 85

Cassidy - 60

Tiff - 47

Dylan - 30

Alejandro - 26

Toby & Sandy's Mom - 12

Craig & Abraham - 11

BELOATHED

Alejandro - 721

Abraham - 599

Sandy's Mom - 307

Sandy - 301

Toby - 256

Craig - 216

Yashy - 181

Mike - 175

Katie - 149

Tiff - 145

Paulo - 101

David - 99

Lily - 97

Melanie - 92

Lucy - 91

Dylan - 74

Sex-Ed Teacher (SET) - 66

Abbey - 64

Madison - 57

Sam - 47

Chirpy - 46

Stacy - 44

Gym Teacher - 43

McCain - 42

Daisy - 40

Blur - 38

James - 34

Zachary - 30

Jasmine - 24

Augustus - 22

Tess & Jessica - 21

Darwin & Justin - 19

Mina - 16

Mr. Noodles & Finn - 14

Jordan - 13

Matt, Chris, Principal & Lucy's Dad - 12

Haley, Cassidy & Daisy's Dad - 11

Lucy's Mom, Courtney & Charlotte - 9

Flower Girl - 8

Lani - 7

Rachel & Paulo's Dad - 6

Sue, Mike's Mom & Lucas - 5

Molly, Aaron (Rachel's brother), Max & Catherine - 4

Amaya, Janet, Felix & Daisy's Mom - 2

Amaya's Dad - 2

Kevin - 1

CONTROVERSIAL

Melanie - 18400 (the numbers canceled each other out at first so this is why her number is significantly larger)

Sex-Ed Teacher (SET) - 695

Yashy - 403

Katie - 289

Lily - 220

Mike - 206

Gym Teacher - 146

Dylan - 136

Blur - 129

Sandy - 120

Madison - 103

Sam - 102

Chirpy - 97

Tiff - 96

Stacy - 76

David - 70

McCain - 61

Abbey - 55

Cassidy - 45

Paulo - 44

Darwin - 40 (most of these numbers are rounded, but this was a true 40.00)

Lucy - 39

Zachary - 32

Mina - 31

Justin - 28

Finn - 22.4

Jasmine - 22.3

James - 21.8

Courtney - 21.6

Daisy - 20

Mr. Noodles - 19

Jessica - 18

Principal - 17.1

Lucy's Dad - 17.02

Tess - 16

Jordan - 15

Flower Girl - 13

Chris - 12.37

Haley - 12.35 (everyone after this point is ranked lower than before im lazy)

Lani - 12.28

Aaron (Rachel's brother) - 9.87

Toby - 9.83

Daisy's Dad - 9.73

Augustus - 9.48

Max - 8.9

Charlotte - 8.7

Sandy's Mom - 8.1

Alejandro - 7.4

Lucas - 7.3

Matt - 7.2

Lucy's Mom - 6.9

Mike's Mom - 6.7

Felix - 4.08

Paulo's Dad - Pure 4

Catherine - 3.9

Abraham - 3.7

Daisy's Mom - 3.3

Sue - 2.8

Amaya's Dad - 2.7

Rachel - 2.6

Molly - 2.4

Janet - 1.8

Amaya - 1.3

Kevin - 0.8

THE PEOPLE DON'T CARE.... (i dont feel like marking these either sorry)

Cassidy - 142

Aaron (Rachel's brother) - 135

Courtney Dylan & Max - 132 (i realize now the ranking i listed was wrong. sowwy)

Darwin - 118

Blur & Lani - 114

Flower Girl - 112

Mina - 109

Gym Teacher - 107

Amaya's Dad - 106

Finn - 103

Sex-Ed Teacher (SET) - 102

Felix - 99

Lucas - 98

Lucy's Dad - 94

Principal - 90

Mike's Mom - 89

Chirpy - 87

Mr. Noodles - 86

McCain - 85

Melanie - 82

Sam & Daisy's Mom - 80

Toby, Craig & Tiff - 79

Justin - 78

Chris - 75

Charlotte - 74

Catherine - 71

Kevin - 68

Stacy - 64

Daisy's Dad - 59

Katie - 58

Yashy & Zachary - 57

Lucy's Mom - 56

Haley - 55

Madison & Jordan - 50

Sandy's Mom - 44

Sandy, Tess, Jessica & Paulo's Dad - 39

Jasmine & Janet - 35

Sue - 34

David - 30

Amaya - 27

Mike - 23

James - 21

Matt, Alejandro & Abraham - 20

Abbey & Molly - 19

Rachel - 18

Augustus - 15

Daisy - 11

Lucy & Paulo - 9

#bittersweet candy poll #bittersweet candy bowl #pc reads bcb

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leilani-lily · 9 months ago

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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 7)

Apologies for the delay, life has been a lil busy for me lately. Lots going on, and only more to happen. My introverted battery is crying ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧

This chapter's a lil shorter than some of the others, but it's for the best. The next one I have planned is gonna be a 2 parter. And it'll be a whopper. Wish me luck hehe! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Synopsis: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. It's time for the daily meeting amongst the hotel staff and guests. You're feeling particularly exhausted, and before you know it, you fall asleep. What you don't realize is what kind of chaos it causes afterwards… Word count: 3.7 k

Chapter under the cut!

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“What if we offad a free bag o ‘Hero-In’ tada first 50 custamers?”

Charlie blinked in bewilderment down at the Spider Demon, not sure if he was actually being serious. The other resident demons either nodded in agreement or weren’t even paying attention to the conversation, blinking tiredly and eyes glazed over. Vaggie groaned in frustration at the apparent lack of brains in this hotel.

“Por el amor de Dios.” she muttered under her breath, dragging her face down with her hand. “Angel. We can’t offer drugs to encourage more guests to the hotel. That goes against, like, everything we’re even doing here.” She gestures to the hotel lobby, where you were all sitting on various armchairs and couches. It was one of your daily meetings where Charlie rounded up all the demons and tried to come up with strategies on how to recruit more sinners. Her and Vaggie were standing before you all, a chalkboard behind them with… some pretty terrible suggestions scribbled on it (and a faded dick drawing done by a certain 8 limbed demon). Said sinner looked around his settings before turning back to the silver haired woman, looking at her in confusion.

“Booze?”

“No.”

“Dildos?”

“Jesus. NO.”

“Blowjobs??”

“FOR FUCK SAKES ANGEL!”

“Whaaaat? Sounds like a good deal ta me! Especially if da blowin’s done by a prafessional like yours truly~!” Angel wiggled his chest fur rather sensually towards Vaggie and threw her a wink. The fallen angel slapped her hand against her face in exasperation.

Now usually this type of banter would have you practically shaking in your seat trying to hold in your laughter. But this time around, all you could muster was a tired chuckle as your eyes ping-ponged between the two. Your early mornings and long days at the hotel were starting to catch up with you, and today in particular was extra exhausting for you. You had spent most of the night reading, too absorbed in the novel to put it down even though you knew how late it was. And now you were paying the price; all you wanted to do was sleep. But then Charlie called this meeting and now you were stuck here, daydreaming of your bed.

“W-well Angel, I’m afraid I have to agree with Vaggie on this,” Charlie piped up, awkwardly looking between her partner and friend, “But I am LOVING the participation and enthusiasm! Good job!” She clapped cheerfully to Angel, trying so hard to encourage his good habits, even if his suggestions were questionable. Angel clicked his teeth at Charlie while shooting a finger gun, slouching back into his armchair. The Princess of Hell turned back to the group, her expression a mix of determination and desperation.

“Alright everyone, what else do we got? Come on, let’s keep the creative juices flowing!”

Other demons' voices droned on in response, but you could feel your brain shutting down as they faded to muffled noise. You were seated comfortably on one of the couches, feeling yourself being swallowed into the cushy pillows. It was honestly really nice being able to sit on this couch in particular, it was the comfiest of all the furnishing here.

When you had first arrived at the hotel and attended these meetings, you were sitting in one of the armchairs beside Angel. And you had to admit, they were pretty stiff. But at some point, as you and Alastor’s friendship began to grow, the deer demon began inviting you to sit on the couch beside him, and even began saving you the seat before anyone else could take it. What more, would even begin to shoot glares at demons if they attempted to take it before you had arrived.

You had caught wind and scolded your friend for a moment, but he insisted with how much work you were doing, you deserved the cushy spot more than anyone else. And that just so happened to be beside him. You had eyed him suspiciously but didn’t argue further; it really was a nice couch. Now it was just known fact that you and the Radio Demon always sat together, and others didn’t even attempt to sit there anymore.

Beside you, Alastor watched as your body sank into the couch and brought a hand up to stifle a yawn. His eyebrow quirked up in amusement, but he didn’t attempt to try and keep you awake. He could tell this meeting wasn’t going anywhere; there was no point in forcing you to participate. Instead, his pupils slid back to the group of demons in front of him. Somehow Nifty and Sir Pentious had gotten into an argument, and Vaggie was yelling over them to shut up and stay focused. Alastor’s smile creaked up eerily, reveling in the chaos unfolding before him. Charlie looked at her business partner, a semblance of despair in her eyes.

“Alastor,” she practically begged, “Please tell me you have some suggestions that we could actually use?”

Alastor gave a hearty laugh as he waved a hand at her.

“Oh please my dear,” he dismissed, shaking his head and giving her a smug look, “You know very well that I do not participate in such matters. I’m simply here for the entertainment that comes with it~!” He gestures to the three demons arguing in question, as Angel and Husk seemed to be sharing a bowl of popcorn and watched the mayhem. Charlie looked at the group tiredly.

“Besides,” Alastor drawled on, his eyes practically dancing at the chaos before him, “I honestly think-!”

His voice was cut off by the sound of a record player scratching to a halt.

The group of demons that were bickering immediately stopped dead in their tracks at the sudden abnormal sound, their gazes zipping to the Radio Demon. Angel and Husk’s eyes also locked in on the deer demon, a piece of popcorn falling out of Angel’s open mouth.

Alastors was frozen in place as your sleeping form had slumped up against his side.

The deer demon looked like he was caught in the headlights; His entire face was frozen and eyes wide as dinner plates, smiling mouth still half open in mid speech. His whole body was stiff as a board as his shrunken pupils stared off ahead in shock.

The room fell quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Every one of the hotel residents were ready to shit themselves, eyes darting between you and Alastor. Anyone that knew the Radio Demon knew how much he despised physical contact not initiated by him. Husk especially was terrified for your sake, fully remembering Alastor practically ripping demons apart limb by limb simply because they looked at him the wrong way. The gambling demon’s fur began to stand up on his neck. This couldn’t be good.

You sighed in your sleep and nuzzled closer into Alastor’s arm, subconsciously seeking out his warmth. All of the onlookers breathed in sharply, Charlie even covering her mouth with her hands to keep herself quiet. The Radio Demon’s eyes slowly slid down to you, carefully tilting his head to get a better look. His eyes looked over you, pupils sharp and calculating as his open mouth creaked shut and grin tight. Everyone watched in horror, unsure what the Overlord was thinking or what he was going to do.

Alastor’s first instinct was to immediately shove you away. But he quickly pushed that thought aside once coming to terms that this was you. As much as he wanted to peel your body off of his, another part was… intrigued. He had never been in this type of situation before, and moreso, with someone he actually found tolerable. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes and mentally tutted you. It was clear you were more exhausted than he had realized, especially given you had fallen asleep amongst all the commotion. And he knew first hand how early you were up everyday; how hard you worked for this hotel. Hell, you were one of the hardest working ones here, besides Charlie and Vaggie.

Mentally coming to a decision, Alastor’s shoulders began to soften, his body finally beginning to relax under the newfound weight. Your rest was far more important than this silly meeting that wasn’t going anywhere anyways. His chivalrous nature had ultimately won out.

“Hey uh… Smiles…” Angel stuttered, his voice low and cautious as to not wake you, “Ya… Ya got a lil Puddin’ on ya sholda” He pointed to your sleeping form, his eyes darting nervously between you both. Vaggie immediately zipped to the Spider demon and slapped her hand over his mouth, shooting daggers at him before looking nervously at Alastor. Eventually, the Radio Demon’s eyes slid lazily to the group of anxious sinners, his lips curling up in amusement as he observed everyone’s expressions. If you weren’t sleeping on his shoulder he would’ve relished in their horror. Careful not to move too much, he turned his head back to the group.

“Now then,” he murmured, his voice surprisingly low, “If the three of you finished with your ridiculous squabbling… ” He shot Nifty, Sir Pentious, and Vaggie a dirty look, making the three cower under his judgemental gaze. His eyes narrowed a moment before turning to Charlie.

“Then I believe we should really get back to our brainstorming. Wouldn’t you agree, Charlie dearest~?”

The goat demon stared at Alastor in surprise, eyes flicking to you before back to him. Her eyes squinted in confusion at the scene in front of her; Alastor… was allowing this? But she quickly shook it off, realizing he was still waiting for her reply. After blinking a couple times, her eyes lit up with joy as her smile overtook her face.

“YES! Yes of course we-!”

Alastor’s static crackled dangerously as radio channels shuffled in the background. His scarlet eyes flashed red, shooting Charlie a look of warning. The princess immediately covered her mouth, silencing her thunderous excitement. With a quick clearing of her throat, she continued, her voice softer this time.

“Yes. Right. Everyone, let’s continue from where we left off.”

For the next twenty minutes, the group of demons quietly continued their discussion and strategies. Alastor sat in complete silence, his grin casual and hands in his lap as he sat still. Only his pupils moved as his gaze darted between the sinners. You continued to sleep soundly against the Radio Demon’s shoulder, nuzzling even closer to his warmth and even wrapping your arms around his at one point. He only flinched a moment when he felt your arms trapping his, but he made no other movement; no change in expression.

As the discussion continued amongst the others, the group couldn’t help but glance at you and Alastor on occasion, still in utter bewilderment at the entire situation. He must have been sick… or an ulterior motive maybe? They all secretly had many inquiries, but none of them dared to question the Overlord. Especially with the way he acted if one of them spoke too loudly. The dangerous hum of static would remind them of their place, and the power he held in this establishment.

Finally, the meeting was adjourned by the Princess of Hell, and everyone began to trickle out of the lobby. Alastor could hear the various murmurs of confusion between the demons as they left to go back to their room, but he ignored them. Little whispers between rats were of no concern to him. Charlie slowly approached the couch, eyes darting between the two figures and smiling sheepishly.

“Do you want me to take her?” she whispered, arms outstretched as if ready to take your sleeping form. But the Radio Demon raised his unshackled hand as if to halt her, shaking his head softly with eyes closed.

“No need to fret my dear,” he reassured, opening his eyes and giving a gentlemanly smile, “I will see to it that our little chef is taken care of.”

Charlie hesitated a moment, unsure of what exactly was going through her business partner’s mind. But finally, she nodded her head and tip-toed away, meeting her angelic partner at the elevators. Hand in hand, Charlie and Vaggie left the vicinity, leaving you and Alastor alone in the lobby.

As silent seconds passed, the Radio Demon’s eyes eventually slid down to your sleeping profile, a mix of amusement and slight curiosity crossing his features. You looked so small, so vulnerable and helpless compared to his tall, powerful form. He watched as your shoulders slowly rose and fell with every breath. Your body was warm against his arm, your head heavy on his shoulder as your entire weight pressed on him. It was a feeling foreign to him; he had never had anyone rest on him in an unconscious state. In all honesty, if baffled him.

No one had ever seemed so… comfortable around him. The group of demons were scared out of their wits for your safety because of the stories they’d heard. And they had a right to be scared. He was the Radio Demon after all. An all powerful Overlord and a force to be reckoned with. He could strike fear into the heart of any creature, make them fall to their knees and beg for their lives and for his forgiveness. There were only a certain handful that could match his power, and even then that number was dwindling (he would make sure of it). He was a terror. A killer. A living nightmare. And yet…

Here you were, sound asleep on his arm, peaceful and unaware of the position you were in.

Your fingers twitched under his bicep, eyelids fluttering a moment before you stilled again. Clearly you were dreaming about something, and it made Alastor wonder what was going on in that little mind of yours. What was it you dreamed about? Perhaps reliving your life before you descended to Hell? Or maybe… Reliving a memory of when you had spent time with him? Alastor rolled his own eyes at that last question, yet his pride couldn’t help but wonder. Would it be obscured of him to think he could occupy a spot in your mind?

You stirred a moment against his arm, and Alastor was immediately taken out of his trance. Your face twitched a moment, before scrunching up as if in disgust. Alastor had to catch himself at your expression. Your face eventually settled back into a relaxed state, but a soft, low chuckle still managed to escape the demon’s lips.

Yep. Definitely a dream about him.

Shaking his head mirthfully, 2 long tentacles of shadow began to rise up from the floor. Ever so gently, the shadows lifted your head and body off of Alastor, allowing the deer demon to carefully remove his imprisoned arm from your grasp and stand up. He took a moment to stretch his neck and roll his shoulder around, the stiffness of not moving for nearly half an hour catching up to him. Finally, he turned back to you, still sleeping soundly and being cradled by his shaded tendrils in bridal style. A thought crossed his mind as he looked over at you, taking a moment to evaluate his next move.

He could very easily snap his fingers and have you transported to your bed. Or have his shadows carefully carry you to your room while he trailed behind. But somehow, despite all of the options he had debated on, he found his arms slowly reaching out underneath you and pulling your body close to his. You immediately curled up closer to him and his warmth, making the Overlord stiffen a moment. But finally, he began to saunter towards the elevators, his shaded tentacles slipping back into the floor.

Of course, being the Hotel’s Facility Manager, he knew exactly where your room was. And obviously, he had a spare key. Using his shadows to unlock the door, he carefully opened the door and stepped inside, stopping a moment to take in his surroundings. He had never actually been in your room before, and he was surprised to discover how fascinated he was about it.

Naturally, it was washed in a deep maroon colour like every other room in this building. It was mostly clean, save for a few articles of clothing scattered around the floor. He simply chuckled softly to himself. Honestly, what was he going to do with you…

Your odor was faint in the room, but was still picked up by the demon thanks to his heightened animalistic senses. He took a moment to breathe it in, shocking even himself at how he enjoyed the smell. Like the scent of spring after a chilling, heartless winter, mixed with your own natural musk. He quickly shook his head from his thoughts, suddenly feeling disgusted in himself and his barbaric impulse.

He noticed an old record player in the corner with various records tucked away. He sauntered over and peeked at the various discs, using his magic to lift them to his face and inspect them. He was impressed with your mix of genres, not at all surprised by the jazz music, but also intrigued by your interest in classical, old fashioned rock and roll, and showtunes. He hummed contently to himself, realizing he could learn a thing or two about you by the contents in your room. And oddly enough, he wanted to learn more.

Call it the hunter in him.

You had a large bookshelf similar to his, and he took a moment to browse the titles you had. Mainly cookbooks, which were of no surprise to him, but there were mixes of fantasy and romance as well.

Romance. Ugh.

Alastor practically rolled his eyes at some of the disgustingly cheesy titles. How people, women in particular, found this entertaining was beyond him. Especially those who would write about it.

Pathetic.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that made them so popular to begin with. And if they seemed to be something that you in particular enjoyed, then perhaps… he would be willing to give it a second chance.

One book in particular caught his eye, sticking halfway out from the shelf. Most likely the one you had finished most recently. A green hue pulled it off the shelf as he flipped it open and pursued the contents. After reading a couple sentences, he felt himself stiffen; his eyes widening and smile growing uncomfortable.

Were all romance novels nowadays so… sultry? He knew sexual activities were popular for most beings. But for Hell’s sake, the novel was practically filth. Instinctively, the book became engulfed in a green flame, burning in seconds. Alastor watched the fires fizz out, ashes of what once was your novel now fluttering and disappearing into thin air.

Hm… hopefully you wouldn’t notice it missing.

He was learning many things about you with his little scavenge through your room. Things that he found oddly charming. Others he found… debateable. Nevertheless, one good thing could be said about the secrets he had discovered. The Radio Demon’s grin began to widen deliciously at the thought.

He could so use this information against you in the near future.

You murmured softly against his chest, causing the demon to focus back on you and away from his scheming thoughts. As much as he would’ve loved to continue to snoop around, he knew he had to finish what he had originally come to do.

With a sigh of contentment, he proceeded to walk to the edge of your bed, once again using his emerald magic to pull the covers back. As gingerly as he could, Alastor lowered you to the bed and carefully removed his arms out from under you. Your one hand had somehow clutched onto the lapel of his jacket, causing him to chuckle before gently unfurling your fingers from his suit. Finally, you had settled in the bed and curled up on yourself, already missing the heat from Alastor’s body. Long, clawed fingers grabbed at the blankets by your feet and pulled them up to your chin, making sure every inch of you was covered and enveloped in the sheets.

You sighed in your sleep as he pulled his hands away, and Alastor took a moment to take in the sight. Even throughout the meeting, and with all the movement of him picking you up and walking around, you had remained fast asleep. It had simply proven how fatigued you were. His mind flashed back to his mother, remembering how tirelessly she would work to provide for the family, and the many nights when he would catch her sleeping at the kitchen table, bills and notices scattered around her. How helpless he felt as a child, not able to do anything to ease her workload or stress.

He looked down at you, eyes flickering over your sleeping form and feeling something stir inside of him. He couldn’t be there for his mother, not as a weak, impotent child. But he was grown now. And he was strong; practically a God with the power he held over Hell. And he would make sure to repay the debt he owed, one way or another.

His hand reached out and paused for a second, as if debating. But something urged him on, and his hand found its way to the top of your head. He began to gently pet your hair, feeling the tendrils slide between his fingertips. You hummed in your sleep, causing the deer demon to flinch and ready to sink into the shadows. But then you sighed contently and subconsciously nuzzled your head into his hand, a soft smile curling up before relaxing again.

Unbeknownst to Alastor, his ear twitched.

He had to stop his own grin from creeping up higher on his face as he continued his previous motions, feeling his body relax and eyes soften. He continued the gentle caresses, embracing the peaceful silence and watching your chest rise and fall with each delicate breath. Eventually, Alastor had felt like he had overstayed his welcome, and slowly removed his hand from your head. As your hair tumbled through his fingers and fell to the pillow, he couldn’t help to lean over and whisper in your ear.

“Sweet dreams, my little songbird~”

He quietly stepped away from your bed, taking a moment to pick up your scattered clothing around the room before placing them in the laundry hamper nearby. And with a final peek to your sleeping form, the Radio Demon’s smile curled up ever so slightly before carefully shutting the door behind him.

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Y-yeah Alastor... Those romance writers sure are pathetic... pff... pffffft (; ̫ಠ ̫U ̫ಠ ̫ ̫; ̫) We do love a self deprecating joke around here k'know

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#hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor #oh deer #leilani-lily

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