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giddyfatherchris · 7 months ago

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📱skz texts — how they react/comfort you (when you’re going through a rough patch with a friend)

| including. felix, han, hyunjin

warnings. none!

a/n. who am i 😮 posting two days in a row??😮 hehe sorry it took so long for the second batch to come! bang chan and lee know will be next<3 hope you enjoy babies xx tagging my sweet bubs @httpdwaekki as promised hope they measure up to your expectations 🙈

a/n. also i know these are ‘out of order’ but… whatever:)

changbin, seungmin & i.n

bang chan & lee know

Felix

He was just about to get into the car when he got your text.

He hefted up the last bags in before he smiled, knowing only from your words that you would be so happy with the surprise he had prepared for you. As he drove to your school, he reminisced on the last few weeks.

His knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel as he remembered the first night you had arrived at the studio, crying. Your cheeks were red, and you looked so disoriented. You explained in between sobs that you fought with one of your best friends. School was easy for you, you had to put in your fair amount of work, but it did come to you easier than for other people, aka them. They let that jealousy grow and grow and had it become a nasty tumor hogging everything in its path. Until that one night when they held your success up against you, and it all exploded, leaving nothing in its wake.

He tried calming you down, but it was one of those moments in his life when he felt the most unhelpful, helpless, and worried. You seemed to be reassured by his touch, but your breathing was still labored, a constant stream of tears flowing down your cheeks. He held you closer, thanking the universe he had been alone practicing, but he knew even if the whole group had been there, he would have let everything down to be there for you.

Releasing his grip, he breathed through the memories and hung to the truth that it was now over. Yes, you still had to see that person from time to time in school, and they were still being incredibly pissy, but you no longer were hurt by their behavior and attempts at screwing you. Thanks to many, many nights spent with Felix, you talked everything through, and he helped you process the situation. He was so proud of the way you handled things, and since it had been a while since you two had the opportunity to have a special date he impulsively decided to organize this getaway. He smiled as he pulled to the curb, noticing your confused smile.

"Hey you, isn't tonight a recording night?"

"Not for me. We're going away," he answered with an enigmatic smile. He nodded for you to get in, "It's a surprise. Yes, everything is arranged. Yes, your bags are packed, and yes, I'm totally free to go."

You narrowed your eyes as he answered all your questions without you having to ask them. "And, where are we going?"

"I'm afraid I can't reveal that information yet."

You rolled your eyes, secretly delighted. "Okay then, can I ask why?"

At that, he settled and grabbed your hand. "Because I'm proud of you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you lately, but you've handled everything so well and managed to get out of it stronger. There was not much I could do to help, but I can do this. I think you deserve this little getaway for all the hard work you've been putting in."

"Lix..." your gaze softened with his kind words.

"No complaints will be accepted at this moment. You just have to sit back, relax, and let me handle it, sounds good?" He brought your hand to his lips, softly kissing it while his eyes scanned your reaction.

"Sounds very good." You smiled back.

He kissed your joined hands once more before putting the car in drive.

You let a beat of silence pass before you tried again with a pleading tone. "You really won't tell me where we're going?"

He laughed at your impatience. "No baby."

A smile wouldn't leave his face as he imagined your reaction when you would pull up in the entryway of the little cottage he had booked near the sea. He could already picture your eyes growing in size and your excited screams when you would see the blue waves and sandy beach. Felix felt his heart strain under all the love he felt for you, as he promised himself to keep doing these little things for you forever.

Han

He already knew everything about the situation happening with one of your friends. Honestly, he had a hard time understanding why they were suddenly turning against you. But then again, he always had a bad feeling about them and never thought they treated you half as well as you deserved.

Still, he hated seeing you so affected by it. He understood why, but he hated feeling so unhelpful. He listened when you needed to vent and tried supporting you as much as he could, but he always felt like it would never be enough. So, when you texted him before heading home from work, hinting at how hard today had been, guilt started gnawing at him.

You got home about 20 minutes later. He was already waiting for you at the door. As soon as he saw the tired look on your face, the dark circles slowly settling under your eyes, his heart ached, but before you could notice his sad puppy eyes, he masked them with his warmest smile.

"Hey pretty, how are you?" Immediately he took your bag from your hands and helped you take off your coat before wrapping you in a hug.

"Could be worse, but could be better too," you sighed. "They were extra petty today, I'm not sure how to deal with this anymore."

He pulled back to grab your face, staring at you lovingly as he did. You looked back at him, the sight of his plush cheeks and chestnut eyes already easing the pain in your chest. "But, I'll be okay. I just want to think of something else. If you're still up for it, a movie night would be amazing."

His face lit up with a sweet smile as he kissed the tip of your nose. "You can head up for a quick shower. I already started the heater and laid down some clothes for you. I'm taking care of everything."

As soon as you disappeared in the corridor he started creating the perfect setup. He made sure to bring all your favorite blankets, pillows, and plushies on the couch. When he heard the shower start he was already preparing hot beverages for the both of you, along with a few of your favorite snacks. He proudly looked at the final result, dimming the lights to create the perfect cozy ambiance. Han would have done anything you would have asked of him tonight. Still, as he looked at his work, a proud smile illuminated his features. As outgoing as he was, he always liked when you said you would rather stay in with him than go out.

Your soft steps on the floor snatched his attention away from his thoughts. Your hair was still wet from your shower, your face bare, and as planned, you wore the matching pajamas he had laid out for you. You were now both rocking an adorable fuzzy set. His heart tightened at the sight of you, looking so relaxed and cozy.

"Since you said you didn't know what to watch, I made a little selection."

You snuggled up next to him, listening to his suggestions before adding one of your own. "While I was in the shower I was thinking we could watch one of our comfort movies. If you want to, of course."

"Sure, what were you thinking of?" he asked as he handed you the remote and placed his arm around your shoulders to pull your body closer to his.

You quickly typed in the movie title, and he felt a smile tug at his lips as he read it. "Are you sure you want to watch Howl's Moving Castle again? I made you watch it just last week."

You nodded confidently, "It's the first movie we've ever watched together and it gives me the best comfy vibes. So if you're down for it...?"

He only pressed play in answer, made sure you were snug in your fort of blankets, kissed the side of your head as you settled against him and the familiar soundtrack started playing.

"I wish I could do more to help you with this whole thing. I hope this still lessens your burden, at least a little. I'm sorry I can't do more." He whispered a few seconds into the movie.

You turned back to look at him, his hair falling in soft curls. The worried expression on his face made you want to hug him as tight as you could. Maybe then you would be able to squeeze it out of his body.

"It's perfect. I couldn't ask for a better partner to go through all this. You do not have to apologize. It's all more than enough." you kissed his plump lips tenderly, "You will always be more than enough." You added before focusing on the movie again, not seeing the beautiful smile now visible on the young man’s face.

Hyunjin

He stared at you in disbelief as you dropped to the floor from extenuation and frustration. You had barely closed the door that you laid your head on the wall and closed your eyes. Your handbag hung limply from your hands, and your coast rustled and creased from the awkward position you were in. He knew what this was about as it wasn't the first night you had assumed that position. The first time you did, a few days ago, he had panicked, thinking you had lost consciousness or were sick. Even if it was nothing of the sort, his worry was still called for when silent tears streamed down your face. That's when you first explained what you were going through, that you had made new friends at your workplace only to discover they were associating with you to steal your ideas. Hyunjin remembers your smile and shining eyes when you first came from work telling him you had made new friends. When you discovered they stole your ideas and presented them to your boss first, that dream had cruelly shattered. You had fought back and proven the ideas were yours, but still, the situation at work was horrible as they had decided to make it hell for you as revenge. Hence the exhausted slide down the door every night.

He crouched next to you, a silent support. "I'm sorry, give me two more minutes, and then I promise to get up and get in my pajamas." You sighed heavily.

"Can I ask you a question?" he softly spoke. You looked up before nodding silently. "If the situation has been solved, if you still have your job, and if your boss is happy you spoke up about it. Why do you still feel like this? I'm not trying to judge or anything I promise. I'm only trying to understand."

You thought about his question, analyzing his features, so soft and open. "It's just so- conflicting? In a way? I mean, I feel angry at them for doing this to me, but I also feel guilty for ratting them out, even if they deserved it. And I'm angry at myself for not seeing through their schemes. It's just a lot of contradictory feelings. Plus, it hurts... I really thought they liked me at first. It hurts to know they never did, it doesn't help all the little voices telling me I'm worth dirt. I don't know, I've just been stuck in this stupid loop for a week now... I'm not sure what to do to get out of it."

Even if he wasn't touching you, Hyunjin's attentive stare felt just as intimate. You loved that about him, how present he always was. You knew his silence was no indicator of his level of care. He stared a second more before suggesting, "You know what, I don't think you should get changed. I think we should do something different tonight. What would you say to go out?"

"What are you thinking?" you cautiously asked.

"I'm thinking you need a change of scenery. I think we should go out, have a drink, go for a little exploring, or we could even go to the amusement park! I think changing it up could help you get out of this loop you say you feel stuck in."

You stared at him in silence, weighing in the pros and the cons, still a spark lit your gaze. He dropped his chin on his knees and stared at you with his attentive eyes. You knew if you said you didn't want to go he would support you, but you also knew Hyunjin had that innate sense sometimes where he knew exactly what you needed before you even did.

"What do you say angel?" he finally asked, slowly reaching out to wrap his slender fingers around yours.

You simply nodded a slow smile spreading on your lips. For the first time this week, you felt the familiar pang of excitement.

You settled on going to the amusement park as it had been the thing that sparked the most interest in you. Your skin prickled as you neared the gate, it felt so refreshing, so new. You were about to head in when you heard a few familiar voices calling your name.

You turned around to see Bang Chan, Lee Know, Changbin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N approaching you, broad smiles on their faces. You weakly waved at them as you looked at your boyfriend, a proud smile already on his face.

"I thought you needed to be reminded just how appreciated and liked you are. I'm truly sorry it turned that way with those assholes, but please do not let it make you doubt your worth. You are surrounded by people who love you and think you are the most amazing human being. Me on top of that list." He leaned in to kiss your temple while he pulled you in for a quick hug and you felt your heart overflow with joy at the gesture he had pulled and the seven excited boys joining you.

You truly were blessed with the most amazing people.

#ilya texts fics #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids texts #stray kids fluff #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han skz #felix skz #seungmin #i.n skz #felix x reader #han x reader #hyunjin x reader

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pynkgothicka · 1 year ago

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Inspired by one of your reblogged posts..

I really want to see dark! misogynistic Jason Todd with a somewhat innocent! girlfriend. He was so sweet to her until they started dating; Now he just can't be bothered with her. He consults his friends about it on COD, or some other incel hangout, and they advise him to put reader in her place.

He comes home one day to reader laying in bed on her phone and he just can't seem to control himself. He's spewing out degrading thoughts, about how he's just so sweet to her and all she can do is complain, and not even be grateful that Jason's using his precious time to breed and lay his claim her needy cunt. Using and absolutely destroying her like the plaything she is.

(also, can i be 🐢 anon? i feel like I'll be returning to you for a while.. i love ur work!)

ＩｍａｇｉｎｉｎｇＪＳＴ

Pairing - Dark! Misogynistic! Incel! Jason Todd x Innocent! Girlfriend! AFAB! Reader

Featuring - Rest of the Batboys

Tags and Warnings - Incel behavior, noncon, name calling, misogyny, medication, gaslighting, degrading, abuse, violence against oc/reader

Authors Note - Back tew my roots!!!! And ofc I would love to finally have anons!! Also sorry this took eons-

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Jason watched you in your shared small apartment. He couldn't figure out what went wrong between the two of you. It started whenever he moved in. Jason was never so used to having somewhere there 24/7.

You were just so needy and particular.

“Jason? Baby… what do you want for dinner tonight?” You ask coming to sit by him. Your hands ran over his arm and kissing at his visable scars. Jason pulled away from you, the feeling making his skin tingle.

He watched as your face fell and you sigh before getting up and grabbing your purse. “I'm going grab something to eat tonight. Please remember to take your medicine.” You say heading to the door and leaving.

“I don't need them.” Jason replied quickly looking at you as you straightened up the living room before leaving. “I told you about reminding me to do shit.”

Jason watched as you just sighed again. “I tell you because I want you to be better baby. I don't want to keep doing things alone, I just want us to be better.” You said doting once again, keeping your sweet nature with Jason. But he only saw that as pity and he hated it. He hissed before rolling his eyes and getting up, the couch going back by his sheer strength. “I don't care what's for dinner. Just get out.”

💭

“I don't know what to do with her. She's just so fucking annoying.” Jason rambles into his microphone. He was playing COD with some online friends. One of his friends, N1ghtVV1ng laughs into his own mic.

“Well what is she doing huh? My girl treats me just right, and even allows me to fuck whenever I want.” He taunts. Jason rolled his eyes at his friends comments. “And she's so tight, god I trained her right.”

“Dude that's so gross.” RedRobinYum, another one of his friends said.

“Well, she just keeps bothering me. Then whenever I try to ask for something she just reminds me to take my meds.” Jason sneered. “Its the same shit, all these dumb questions. I just want her to stay with me and not bug me.”

“Well have you tried putting her in her place? Show her what you want from her.” DamitheBest says. Jason hummed at that suggestion.

“She's just so fragile, I'm afraid she might bre-”

“Get that shit out of your mind now.” Dami says. “Show her who's the boss before she does. Women will kick you to the curb and leave you for someone who'll tolerate that shit they pull.”

“Literally don't listen to these freaks, sit down and talk to her.” RedRobin chimes in. “With any relationship just talk it out, trust me I do that with my partner and we just talk everything out.”

Jason could hear Dami make a buzzer noise that almost broke his mic. “Nope, don't listen to him. Red, he's gotta put his foot down. Cut out any disobedience from his girl.”

Jason looked down at that, the thought of hurting you almost sickeningly turned him on. Dami was right and had always been. Jason just needed to man up and confront you.

💭

“What are you doing?”

You turn around from your spot on the bed too see Jason, standing in the doorway. You smile before getting back on your phone, his voice making you feel better that he's still around.

Yet majority of the time, Jasons voice always brought you a sense of worry and hurt. Worrying so much for and about him made you into someone who barely cared for yourself. It was always Jason, and everything you did was for him.

“Nothing really, I'm just kind of bored.” You reply. Jason stares at you, face blank. His eyes leered at your body as you just so casually laid down. Almost as if just waiting for you to say something. Anything.

“Your not going to bug me to take my meds?” Jason practically spat out. You turned around moving to where you sat on the bed. “Not gonna ask me to take out the trash, help around the apartment?

You furrow your brows. “What? Why are you talking to me like that?” You asked looking at him. “I- What did I do?”

“You dont like it when someone stands against you?” He replied completely ignoring your question. Everything about Jason's words and demeanor frightened you. It was like he genuinely hated you.

You stood up walking towards him slowly. “Jay… it's okay. I think you're having a episode…” You say keeping your voice low. Jason's chest came up and down as he kept getting more and more enraged. You reached out a hand to touch his arm, but Jason pushed you away. Your lower back hit the vanity you both built when you moved in.

“You think I'm having a episode?! Of course you do, you don't just think I'm pissed?” He replied moving to tower over you. You put a hand on the vanity to stand back up. Your chest heaved as your lungs tried to keep up with your heart. You pushed past him leaving through the bedroom door.

Back burning, you looked for your keys. “I'm done with this, all I want is what's best for you. But you've treated me like shit, and I'm done with it.” You said seeing reaching for your keys.

But they were picked up and thrown across the room.

Jason pushed your head against your kitchen island. You groaned out and began to thrash around. Jason snarled at you, keeping you detained.

Hr laughed in your face and seemingly just waited for you to calm down. “I like it when your quiet.” He said leaning down to kiss the back of your head. Your breathing shuddered as you began to cry quietly. Jason reveled in your weakness a hand resting on the back of your neck, the other on your back.

“What did I do Jason … What did I do so wrong…?” You said, your words breaking with your own tears.

“Get on my nerves… I'm such a good boyfriend, yet all you do is complain. I'm sick of that, so I'm going to change it.” Then you feel Jason's arm brush against you as he reached for the kitchen scissors. “Stay still, unless you want to get hurt. I could care either less.” He said as he took the scissors to your shirt. Cutting down the fabric, leaving you exposed as you chose not to wear a bra.

Starting to kick at Jason again, flipping around to try and get away. That attempt was failed, as Jason took your throat in hand, slamming your head back onto the counter. Your vision blurred on impact as he took off your shirt completely. The impact made you dizzy and start to become unaware. Jason saw that, and quickly took advantage of it, kissing at your neck.

He was going to get himself off.

It was what you owed him.

His kisses trailed down to your stomach, tongue dipping into every dip in your skin. You let out dazed cries as tears poured down your cheek. “You've always been so gorgeous. Don't you see how good you could have it?” Jason commented quietly as he pulled down your sweatpants along with your panties. He blew on your cunt, watching just how wet you became at his actions. “Do I have to keep beating you for you to keep still.”

Biting at your bottom lip to hold back tears you shake your head. He smiled as you shivered from his breathing. Jason pushed his head into your cunt, lapping at your exposed pussy. You bit at your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, just once you wanted to be stronger than what you actually were. But Jason knew you, his hand coming down on your ass, making you yelp out. “Stop that, I want to hear you.” He said into your cunt as he continued to eat you out.

But Jason is Jason.

And Jason is selfish.

He only eats you out close enough to make you cum. He pulls away with the bottom half of of his face coated in your juices. You grabbed at the counter top, full on sobbing. “Please… Jay. Stop we can ta-” Jason's hand came crashing down next to your head, the sound of tile making you cry out more.

“You had your chance. You had multiple chances to talk, but you didn't. So now I'm putting you in your place.” He said, ignoring any protests you had. You could hear him undo his pants, the taunting noise of his zipper making your cries only louder. A dribble of spit hits your cunt, Jason's palm coming down to rub at your cunt. “Now shhh, while you take this dick.”

You let out a yell as Jason pushes his length all the way into you. He sits there, breathing heavy and labored.

His eyes stayed fixated on your pussy, swallowing his cock. He pulled out then pushed back in, your walls clamping on his length. His groans were deep as he took no time for you to adjust, fucking into you. Your body shook and shuddered as he held you down, using you for his own pleasure.

“You're so pretty like this,” Jason said his body pounding into your own. You continued to whimper under him, feeling your body become weak. His hand tangled in the mess he had made of your hair, using his strength to pull you up. “You need to be like this all the time, then I wouldn't have to deal with a bitch for a girlfriend.” He snickered into your ear. He said it like it was a threat, or a suggestion you couldn't turn down.

So you nodded in agreeance, his smile turning wicked as he fucked into you. You could feel his hips stutter as he reached his peak. Jason's hand moved to your clit as he rubbed at your bud. “You better cum with me or I'll keep raping this cunt.” That quickly snapped you back to reaily. The realization of needing to end the abuse he put you through, you tried feeling pleasure from the trauma he was putting you through.

Then you feel it. The feeling of you cumming alongside your cunt getting filled. You let out a choked gasp, Jason groaning as he filled you to the brim. His hand grabbed at your ass as he hissed. He pulled out watching as a dribbles of his cum dropped from your abused cunt. He quickly pushed it back into you with two thick fingers. Jason snickered before pulling up his boxers, leaving his jeans on the ground.

“Clean up in here, I'm getting back on the game.”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @fangirl-death-rose @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops

#dark writing #tw dark content #tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere blog #tw gaslighting #yandere jason todd #dark jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd #yandere dc #dark dc #dc smut #dc fanfic #tw violence #tw abuse #tw noncon

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novankenn · 2 months ago

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Nah-Nah =8P

In their third year as Beacon students team JNPR was sent out on what was supposed to be a simple grimm cull... it was anything but. Under assault from all sides Jaune made a final call, ordering a retreat... it was the last commend he ever made... as he was overtaken by the horde of grimm before reaching the safety of the evac bullhead.

So gathered in a small private conference room, Glynda Goodwitch proceeded to read out Jaune Arc's last will and testament to his grieving team mates.

Glynda: Now considering there are clauses in this document specifically related to Mr. Arc's family, and have been given permission I will address Jaune's final wishes for you... his team. Pyrrha openly crying.

Glynda: I Jaune Luna Arc being of sound mind and body hereby...

Nora: I wouldn't say that... is entirely true.

Glynda: divide the entirety of my estate as follows. To Pyrrha.

Civilian with passing resemblance to Jaune: Honey, they're talking about you.

Pyrrha: *sniffles* What?

Glynda: My dearest Pyrrha, the one who first believed in me and the future I wanted to achieve. My partner who helped me overcome my own foolishness and trained me to be not only a better combatant, but also a better person...

Pyrrha: *sniffles*

Glynda: ... and who abandoned me...

Pyrrha: WHAT?!?

Glynda: ... and our potential future because she was too afraid to take a risk... I leave you... A BOOT TO THE HEAD.

WHAP!

Glynda: And one for the wimp she chose to date...

WHAP!

Pyrrha: *shaking away the impact of Glynda's booted foot.* huh? What? I don't understand?

Glynda: Wait there's more... Dear Pyrrha I know you'll want something to remember me by, and you've always had your eye on my Pumpkin Pete Hoodie... so I...

Pyrrha: Thank you, Jaune... I'll cher...

Glynda: leave you a BOOT TO THE HEAD.

WHAP!

Glynda: And another one for the wimp!

WHAP!

Glynda: To my dear teammate Nora...

Nora: Ah no... I don't want no boot to the head.

Glynda: Who while made my life as a team leader very interesting, but also drove me to the brink of insanity with your vapid schemes and chaotic behavior...

Nora: *Ducking her head under the table* I'm covering my head!

Glynda: I leave three cases of pure Forever Fall refined tree sap...

Nora: Oh wow! Thanks Jau...

Glynda: and a BOOT TO THE HEAD.

WHAP! THUD!

Glynda: And another to Pyrrha and the wimp...

WHAP! WHAP!

THUD! THUD!

Glynda: To Ren...

Ren: It's okay. I don't want anything...

Glynda: ... my friend, and a rock on which I could rest when things were getting too much. You gave me health drinks and teas...

Ren: It was my pleasure...

Glynda: You did you best to curb in Nora and prevent me from strangling her...

Ren: I tried...

Glynda: a BOOT TO THE HEAD.

WHAP! THUD!

Glynda: In closing I hereby leave the entirety of my vast hidden fortune to the people of Vacuo... so they can finally move someplace nice... and a BOOT TO THE HEAD for Pyrrha and the wimp.

WHAP! WHAP! THUD! THUD!

/==/ the Inspiration /==/

youtube

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #lie ren #glynda goodwitch #jaune died #four on the floor #the frantics #boot to the head skit #stupid shit #Youtube

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alexa-fika · 4 months ago

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Some headcannons for youu ♡ :

Izou just having the time of his life designing outfits for dokusha.

Thatch teaching dokusha to cook bit by bit and supporting them no matter how bad the food is (think like Sanji's mother)

Related to Puppy love/escapes - Shanks secretly writing to dokusha now and then to check up on them

Dokusha sneaking into whitebeards room after having a nightmare, and whitebeard knowing that the kid is there but pretends to be asleep

Marco not leaving dokusha's side while there sick, not because it's serious but because he doesn't want them to wake up with no one there

Vista helping dokusha make flower crowns while telling stories

Ace breaking the rules and sneaking dokusha away while their grounded do to fun things

Tried to include a bit of everybody for ya, remember to eat water drink food and rest ♡♡

Let me start by saying that when they read the end my first reactions like HA they din’t include Vista, ima throw one in but then I saw you DID. Include him and I was damn they got ahead of me. 😂

Izou is one hundred percent ensuring Dokucha is always on flick 💅🏽 . Not only does he have a good eye for them on stores but he also comes up with both cutest and fanciest things for the kid. One day you wake up to them in the darnest dino costume

Another day you woke up to them in the fanciest outfits

You bet that Thatcher is gonna always have his little assistant even Baby Dokucha, he will always have them on his hip as he cooks (as long as it’s safe) trying to get some early lessons on the baby, making sure to narrate every step of what he’s doing.

Listen the crew don’t know this but Dokucha has bribed one of the delivery birds to come to them after they have dropped the usual new’s coo. In exchange for some quality food and perhaps a coin here and there they maintain contact with Shanks.

Dokucha is a kid, and with that comes scares wether from a nighmare or from a suspicious sound they keep hearing on their room, even though they sleep with the commanders on their room, nothing will provide more safety than good ol grandpa so Whitebeard always makes sure to ‘forget’ to lock his room, if you’re lucky he might even ‘accidentally’ leave out some blankets…

Listen, he might not do this for the rest of the crew, that dosen’t mean he doesn’t care for the others he just thinks they can toughen it out plus when it cones to stubborn pirates sitting next to them as the lie injures their pride but Dokucha, they don’t know any better. The others don’t know this but Marco sneaks some books into the clinic to read to the small child to help them rest better.

They know to nurture all sides of Dokucha and that means the innocent meaningless activities, just like izou Vista is more than willing to take on that role, helping them make flower clowns and teaching them of the different plants they might encounter in the different islands.

Oh remember how I said the commanders know better? They do but they also recognize when they have learned their lesson; sometimes the time frame of the punishment is longer than needed so they do kind of see what the situation calls for. However when the punishment do seem to be longer than what they need, Ace asks special permission from Pops to give the child a ride. Whitebeard most usually says yes but he does on the condition that Ace will also have a talk with Dokucha to make sure why they were being punished and try to find a middle ground to make sure the behavior gets curbed. (He does have to ask Whitebeard, Even Ace is aware he wouldn’t be able to sneak past the man)

I love making these with you guys, do you guys have any more takes?

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scummy-writes · 3 months ago

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Things I've learned about being in fandoms on tumblr

Sometimes when I am navigating fandom, I will have bouts of... depression? negative feelings? regarding it. I think a lot of people go through this, but in the areas of fandom I buzz around in, I don't see many people talking about ways to sort of re-center yourself and take care of yourself in an online space. I thought I would attempt to share some of my habits I try to follow when I hit one of these moods. So here are 14 of them covering various subjects I run into the most. They will not work for everyone, but I do encourage you to think a bit about each point and see if it would work for you.

Feel free to add some of your own, but I am looking for positive advice that is not meant to put down others in a harmful way. I would also like to preface that I've been in fandoms for over seven years, most of them smaller rather than huge, but a lot of this advice is centered around someone just trying to enjoy the space/enjoying it as a fan creator (writing fanfics in my case). The 'you' used in this is a general usage of the word 'you'.

-> It's good to celebrate milestones, whether its how many followers you have, works you've made in a year, or similar.

However... Don't let this become a competition or reasons to compare yourself to others. We're here to have fun and to celebrate us doing so- don't put completely unneeded and unnessacary competition on it. What's the point of that competition other than to make yourself feel bad or to belittle others? This extends further to notes - no number games. none. You can be proud of the numbers you have gotten, but curb all impulses to swing that in a negative way. The second that starts happening, talk to friends. talk to someone IRL. do something that isn't staring at your notifs, immediately. Even if its listening to silly things while washing the dishes- get out of your notifs tab!!! The numbers game isn't a game you have to be a part of, ever.

-> Don't put other bloggers on pedestals.

It's fine to be a fan of someone's work, and to be excited when they post or even talk to you and you're surprised by it. However, we're all just nerds together in a fandom- maybe don't put them up on a pedestal and hold their opinions/words as gospel rather than things you agree with. There's an unhealthy disconnect there for both parties, and can lead to unhealthy habits of a bad comparison game with one party not even knowing you're comparing yourself or others to them. And I promise that no one likes being pitted against others in those.

-> separating my main blog from my fandom blog has done wonders for me.

This one is a lot more of a 'me' thing that MIGHT be helpful towards others, but it's such a nice thing to have a 'normal' space where I don't have to worry too much about fandomisms but want to be online. I want to reblog other things that are not just fandom related and I don't want people from the fandom blog bothering me for. For the longest time I wasn't very upfront with my main blog purely because I wanted that separation, but for others to block me properly I put it up more bluntly.

I also think that this is good when you want to write about some things, but are nervous. In my example, I get nervous writing about my ocs. So what did I do? Made a sideblog for one, briefly mentioned it, and I post untagged drabbles at times when trying to explore her character. It's more practice on not caring about the note amount each post gets for me, and it makes me more at ease with things not getting any notes while exploring different subjects I don't usually write about.

-> Does everyone seem horrible, or are you just not in a good mood?

This is silly and maybe redundant for some, but it's good to keep a track of IRL verses Online. If IRL is weighing you down so much that you use online as an unhealthy habit (self destructive behaviors towards things you worked hard on, lashing out at friends for things out of their control, lashing out on other bloggers for inane things, focusing your bad mood on notes or fake popularity contests...) then try and figure out the big important things: Have you eaten, slept, drank enough water through the day, or are in pain/annoyance with something offline that you're not realizing? Is it one person online making you feel like this? Have you blocked them? Have you taken healthy breaks offline to reground yourself? When i am randomly bitter about the online world, this is typically my frustrations with smth IRL leaking out, and so I do something to help process that or to breathe through it. My personal go to is getting out of the house so I can listen to music, watch silly videos while putting together a simple craft I bought, or doing chores/playing games.

-> Is the fandom full of cliques, or are you witnessing friends just talking to each other?

I get it, it fucking sucks not being involved in a friend group. You know what makes that worse? By looking at other's friend groups bitterly and making up shit in your mind to justify it. The reality is this: people will be friends with a limited number of people, and frequently talk to them because that is who they are comfortable with.

You not being in that friend group does not mean there is anything wrong with you OR them. The honest truth is that it's hard to keep up with a ton of friends at once, and so people may not respond to your messages, or they might mean to but it gets lost in their hectic IRL, or they just don't mesh with you- and all of that is normal!

And... Really... It takes work to build up a friend group. You have to get out of your comfort zone and send the first few messages. You have to embrace the fact that it's possible a friendship won't pan out. It's natural, it's normal, and doesn't mean there is anything wrong with you or the other person. After trying and naturally just talking to people in the fandom, I promise that you will find a friend group of your own.

We are all socially awkward people trying to nervously talk to each other. Yes, even the people you follow that seem like 'everyone' likes them- they are nervous too. we're all just nerds here, remember that.

-> Understand that no one is obligated to do anything.

This ranges from so many things. Here is a list as short as I can manage it to get my point across: No one is obligated to comment, read, like, or reblog any posts. Any posts. No one is obligated to scour for new creatives in the fandom spaces and reblog their work. No one is obligated to tag their posts/creative adventures to your liking. No one is obligated to follow by your DNIs and BYFs. Obligation does not exist. Even your friends are not obligated to do any of this.

It is courtesy to do these things. Blogs will do their best to be supportive by nature, and to try and at least do some of this at any given time, but it's not a requirement. It's NICE to do so and encouraged, but the second you drill it into your head that no one, not even you, are obligated to do this, it's a bit easier to breathe and accept that no, it's a bit insane and difficult to read through 50 fanfics a week and comment a paragraph on all of them while also working on your own things and trying to manage 15 conversations while working 40 hrs a week and and and---

Instead, focus that energy on friends and yourself when you can and accept your own limitations.

-> have other fandoms you enjoy where you DON'T feel pressured to do ANYTHING.

Due to my hard fixation at usually one to two games at a time, I am usually only writing for those at a time- but I need other things to enjoy where I don't feel like I need to make something to post online. I don't feel that pressure from myself, i don't feel the need to try and engage with others. Just a quiet enjoyment for me.

-> If creating is really stressing you out and making you feel worse than better, reflect on the reasons this may be.

Are you hanging out with people who are regurgitating really bad beliefs regarding creation ("shame, you only got twenty notes, that's nothing", "wow fifty notes? that flopped.", "how did this person's shitty work get 30 more notes than me?"). Are you getting anons putting you down? Is your depression convincing you what you've made is worthless? Look at some of the points in this post regarding friends, blocking, and if you're neglecting your body's needs. If that still persists, there may be some self-reflection as to why things get to you so badly. Try to journal out the reasons why until you believe you hit one that is not your depression speaking.

An example: I would freak out about notes because I had friends that would talk around or to me in the examples listed in the previous paragraph. Cutting them off, focusing on friends who focused on the joys of creating, and focusing more on what *I* wanted to write rather than requests... I still get depressed at times but it's been so much more managable now with better support and feeling free creatively. Usually calling myself out at staring at notes helps me shake my head and move on now.

-> Blocking/Filtering is your friend, but maybe don't over do it.

Blocking seems vaguely controversial at times, but I do believe it's needed for a positive fandom experience. Outside of the obvious, the reasons I block people are typically related to how upset I am by something the person has done or said, even if it's related to fancreations. If it's something like them berating others for not believing their headcanon/fanon? Or grossly demonizing some character's mental illness? Or harassing people who dislike some characters and vice/versa? That's all a block for me.

I personally try not to overdo it and make educated decisions based on like, hey, is this just someone misunderstanding and not realizing how they're coming off? Is this someone who I am misreading their tone? Is this just a weird one-off behavior? Ok, then maybe no block button. But if seeing poor takes makes you angry for longer than, say, 20 mins? an hour? It's a week later and you're still all huffy about it and legit pissed? Maybe dig into that while also blocking the person for now.

The Filters aspect of this is similar, but it's a lighter version of blocking for me. Maybe I don't want to block this person but seeing them talk about bugs really stresses me out, so I look at how they tag those posts and filter it out for myself. Maybe I love their fandom blog but they're multi-fandom, so i will filter out a fandom I don't want to see them post about. That's it.

-> Don't be afraid to cut anon off, even if it's for a few weeks at a time.

I feel like those of us who take requests for fan creations are terrified of this a lot, but truly, taking breaks from the anon function should be encouraged. It is indeed a button for shy people, but there are assholes everywhere regardless. When they occupy your time too much or just annoy you, take away their ability to actually say anything to you.

For a creative, sometimes this can feel like the end of the world. But... you Can turn it back on later. I frequently shut it off during major life events, fanfics I am worried I might get weird anons about, when I'm in a randomly bad mood and don't think I can handle it. I Sometimes have it off for months at a time. You can cut it back on. But if anons make you anxious just imagining getting one right now? Flip that off for now. (also please utilize the block function for mean anons!!!)

-> turn those tumblr notifs OFF!!! (mobile) Additional: Turn your status OFF!!!

The only notifications I get on my phone from tumblr is when someone IM's me, and I've had it like this for years. I cannot imagine having my phone constantly going off with random tumblr notifications, I think I would have a bad spike in anxiety having that happen. It would make any negative feelings with notes/followers/number worse for me.

The online status is debatable, some people really don't have an issue with this, but I tend to feel pressured to respond to people asap if they see that my status is online and similar. Those people have not said anything to me regarding it, it's just my personal issue. So..I turn that status off. And it helps me feel better about answering in my own time.

-> Look at who you are communicating with.

Do your friends regularly dunk or mock people on the daily, over shit that is inane and petty? Are you a creative a bit nervous with your work because your friends are pretty rude with how they view other's works? Are you scared to like a character because your friend severely hates them/is attached to them to an unhealthy degree?

There are other subsets to this, but those are ones I find really troubling and try my best to avoid. I dont want to be friends with people who regularly mock others on the legit daily. I don't want to be friends with people who nitpick notes and use notes as a measure on how much worth someone has. I don't want to be friends with people who mock other's creative endeavors.

So... I don't! If I notice things are becoming a salt pit, I try to talk things out at first, but if its clear that's not gonna work, then it's outties for me. It's very true that everyone will salt over something eventually, but it's up to you to decide how severe it is with your friend circle, how it wears you down, and are they really people you want to hang around with if they just make you anxious or stressed all the time?

-> That vaguepost isn't about you.

Friend venting about someone who sounds oddly like you? Does your favorite blog mention something they dislike and you think you fit into that catagory- guess what. It's not about you!!

It's something I struggled with for a while, but eventually I came to terms with it by going "If they truly have an issue with me, they can talk to me one on one. Otherwise, i am assuming that this isn't about me" and gritting my teeth and forcing myself to repeat that until I feel at ease. Truthfully, I also just stopped hanging out with people who do this a ton in a harmful way, so my anxiety about this decreased. If it's an issue, friends should be willing to bring it up to you personally rather than make really meanspirited vagueposts.

-> A personal one I am putting at the end since I believe can easily turn bad, is... Stop looking in the fandom tags if they continiously bum you out.

I will be transparent, I've had bouts of running into a ton of 'why you should love/hate this character' posts over and over, posts that are random but use 50 different character tags, posts about how annoying my fave is, posts from/about bloggers I dislike, etc etc. After a while, I decided to just curate my feed via whoever I was following, and stop looking into tags as often. At most, I do it once every 1-3 months.

Yes, this does limit what all you can see, however... There's only so much information I can take in at once. If I follow people who reblog a ton of fandom content I love and it's different across the board, that's good enough for me and I don't feel negative looking at the tags sometimes.

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bootheghoul · 14 days ago

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In your Pokémon au, do the boys have to deal with instincts or anything like that? Like does the Pokémon they (represent?) have any effects on their habits or behaviors?

Yes! So, for this AU, everyone in the universe has certain habits and behaviors pertaining to the Pokémon they are. Ex: Bird Pokemon molt and preen and have the urge to migrate at a certain time of the year Ex: Scolipedes and Centiskorches have an innate rivalry with each other It’s not like their instincts completely take over their minds, but subtle things in how they act. The boys’ personalities are exactly the same just with some additional quirks. I'm basing how they act from dex entries/ in-game animations/ and other media! This is long so strap in!

Ingo

In Ingo’s case, Chandelure tends to spin A LOT. It’s a habit they all share whether to battle or emote. It’s just what they do.

Chandelure don’t get dizzy so they can do so without repercussion.

This behavior started when he evolved into a Lampent.

Ingo either spins on his toes when he’s happy or when he attacks. But his twirls are sharper and not as smooth and elegant as other Chandelure

Think of a pirouette but very stilted.

He spins on his heel pretty fast, too, and smacks Emmet every now and then.

He tends to point his toes like a ballerina while he floats.

He often sways on his feet or in the air like a pendulum if he’s idle or deep in thought.

This is kind of a bad thing because he might accidentally hypnotize a passerby by the combination of the motion and his flames.

Luckily, riding the train hides his swaying as it’s already a bumpy ride.

Although sometimes he has to snap the person out of his trance. He will profusely apologize afterward.

His flames aren't hot unless he wants them to but they feel warm

Another thing that creeps Emmet out a bit is that Ingo can see and talk to spirits. Not ghost Pokémon. Actual spirits.

Certain Pokémon have this ability and fewer are able to help these spirits. Ingo is one of them

Chandelure, in particular, act as a lure. haha

Emmet can kind of feel if a presence is there but he needs Ingo’s clarification. (it's that twin connection they share)

Unlike popular belief, Chandelure do not destroy a spirit with their flames. It may look like it but it's to help a lost soul move on.

While he is a conductor for trains, he doubles as a guide for lost spirits because he believes it's his duty. (Idea from this wonderful fic!)

Some aren't ready and he’ll respect their decision and leave them alone

What does bother him is that he can sense when someone is about to die and hates hospitals for this exact reason

It's awful because he feels it multiple times a day from passengers

He doesn't want to burden Emmet so he stays quiet

Emmet knows when Ingo's overwhelmed and will try to distract him the best he can

He's terrified to one day sense Emmet's death

Emmet

Emmet, as an Eelektross, has a bad chewing problem! I kind of showed it in this post already but he gnaws at any pen or pencil any chance he can get. If not he’ll chew on his nails.

He lets out small bursts of electricity from his teeth as he chews in thought

He has pockets full of hard candy to curb the issue though

Low on sugar? He can help!

It's also used to bribe the Joltik Quadruplets. (I'll show them later!)

He does bite Ingo if they get into an argument. It's always Ingo's tails too. But they rarely seriously fight anyway

Emmet has bit through their cutlery before...multiple times... but it's on him to replace it. (Ingo has his own set of utensils now)

He'll either thump or swish his tail when he's agitated.

He has the tendency to wrap around anything if he stays in the same place for a while. (A pole/his office chair/ furniture)

He mostly coils around people verrry tightly when he gives a hug, which is a habit he started as an Eelektrik.

You have to tell him to let go because he unconsciously constricts the air out of you.

He's stronger than he looks so please tell him because he doesn’t realize and never wants to hurt anyone.

Ingo is mostly the recipient of this but Elesa is a close second. The depot agents are third.

With any body of water, he starts to think how the water feels and has the urge to jump in. It doesn't matter if it's freshwater or seawater. He wants to dive in.

In the water, Emmet is a completely different guy. It's like a switch flips in his head. It’s freeing for him to be underwater as he can move how he wants to!

Beach trips to Undella Town or Humilau City are a frequent thing, and he will be cranky if he misses a day!

His favorite place is the Marine Tube because Ingo can be there too!

Ingo will walk through the tunnel as he watches Emmet have fun

Since Eelektross in canon are ambush hunters, Emmet subconsciously acts like one

Is the type to silently enter a room and sneak up on you

He likes to wait deep below the surface watching above him

It's like his version of cloud-watching

If there’s a shadow at the top, he has to find out what it is!

He has a habit of swimming at an alarming rate and abruptly popping out of the water to greet whoever is there. He doesn't mean to! He's just curious.

He only gives them a really bad scare and a heart attack

Ingo will join him on a floaty and act as a beacon because Emmet sometimes swims out too far.

Other marine pokemon point him in the right direction if he does get lost.

Other miscellaneous things:

It’s a common form of greeting between Electric types to shock each other. It’s their version of a handshake/hello.

Ingo’s built up a resistance to electricity thanks to Emmet, but sometimes it’s really shocking!

Emmet sometimes bumps into things because of his body.

They both can see in the dark, but Emmet can see perfectly underwater.

They both have fallen asleep levitating before.

Ingo doesn't have a house key because he can just go through the front door or wall or anything really.

Because of this, he has a habit of not opening doors

Ingo is actually wary of water because he's afraid his fire will go out but he toughs it out for Emmet because he loves him so much.

He can swim but it's still the fear of going too deep.

There is battling in this AU! Ingo and Emmet still run the Battle Subway with their team, The Top Depot Agents! (I'll show them sometime!)

Also, if you have any ideas of your own, you can make your own post and tag me! What I say isn’t set in stone cause this is an idea for everyone to enjoy. I’d love to hear any new ideas!

#Submas Pokemon AU #talking #submas #this is a lot sorry but this is fun to wrack my brain over

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goingbuggy · 11 months ago

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Shanks' Savior Complex

A few months ago, I posted a joke tweet about Shanks’ savior complex and Buggy’s inferiority complex. While Buggy’s feelings of inadequacy are pretty obvious in the source material, Shanks is constantly evading serious analysis because of how little he appears in the manga and how nebulous those few appearances are. So, naturally, I was met with a lot of confusion. (What do you mean by ‘savior complex?’ Why Shanks specifically?) I thought I’d address all that now in one comprehensive, all-inclusive post.

Before I dive in, please note just a few things:

A SAVIOR COMPLEX is a pattern of unconscious behaviors. It is associated most often with self-sacrificial people – those who help others even at the cost of their own personal well-being, mental or physical.

Within the field of psychology, ‘complexes’ are just constructs. My goal is not to diagnose. Rather, this post is a conceptual analysis using the idea of a “savior complex” to better explore Shanks as a character.

Now that all that’s out of the way, let me begin!

For a character who is so significant in the grand scheme, Shanks is remarkably absent for the better part of One Piece. Really. He is so nonexistent, actually, that the first chapter of the manga is probably the most we’ve ever seen from him uninterrupted. This is for good reason, though; Shanks is the catalyst for Luffy’s entire journey. He owes a lot to Shanks: his devil fruit, his life, and even his dream, to an extent. Luffy learned a lot about being a captain from Shanks, and much of his advice – like picking and choosing your battles, for example – Luffy puts to good use later down the line.

So, considering his role as Luffy’s mentor, it’s fitting that Shanks’ character is defined by RESPONSIBILITY. He’s goofy, sure, but don’t let that devil-may-care attitude fool you – Shanks is a knowledgeable pirate, grounded by the weight he carries. His dialogue and actions throughout the first chapter reflect this. When Luffy demands to be taken out to sea, Shanks refuses, claiming he is too young. While the rest of his crew wax poetic about the freedom and joy of being a pirate, Shanks is the one bringing them back down to reality, telling them not to fill Luffy’s head with “crazy ideas.”

Those who know him best seem to agree. “The captain’s just doing what’s best for everyone,” Beckman states. “The safety of the entire crew and ship rests on his shoulders.”

Although Shanks is realistic, he is not a pessimist, and he certainly still values dreams. Let’s not forget: Shanks entrusted Luffy with Roger’s hat. Not only that, he asks Luffy to give it back when Luffy has become a great pirate – not if. Of course Shanks has hope for the future and the new generation. He's just also experienced enough to know the dangers and horrors of the current world, and curbs his own expectations as a result. Yet again, Beckman reinforces this when he talks to Luffy.

The future needs a strong foundation. Anything is possible, including what Luffy wants to achieve, but there are necessary sacrifices to make dreams a reality.

I believe Shanks sees himself as one of those necessary sacrifices.

Oda may not have envisioned Shanks losing an arm in the original draft of the story, but this decision sets a precedent going forward, for both Shanks as a character and the series at large. Sacrifice is at the core of One Piece’s identity; previously, I’ve discussed its emotional significance as an act of love. But sacrifice also serves as the foundation for the new generation. Corazón’s sacrifice, for example, enabled Law to outlive him and change the future. Toki and Oden’s sacrifices enabled their children and the Nine Red Scabbards to change the future. Queen Otohime, Fisher Tiger, Shimotsuki Yasuie… although these characters died without ever seeing the future they hoped for, their sacrifices are the foundation upon which their successors enact change.

And who do we also see facilitating the changing world, ensuring the “new age” succeeds?

Shanks.

Whenever Shanks reappears in the manga, it is usually on the precipice of a dangerous conflict, or at exactly the perfect moment to intervene in said conflict. Take Shanks visiting Whitebeard, for example; here, he attempts to navigate the growing tension between Ace and Blackbeard, which eventually results in the war at Marineford. Although he fails at convincing Whitebeard to stop Ace’s revenge quest, it’s clear that Shanks has a vested interest in balancing the current forces at play, including marines and pirates.

At Marineford, not only does Shanks intervene to stop the war, but he saves Koby, a member of the new generation who will undoubtedly change the future on the marines' side of things. His words also reflect my point about sacrifice as a foundation for change. As he stops Akainu, he praises Koby for putting his life on the line: “The seconds of courage you bet your life on creating, for good or bad, have just now greatly changed the fate of the world!”

This aspect of his character remains consistent in Film Red, too. Even though he has grown to love Uta as a daughter, Shanks still encourages her to stay behind because her singing brings happiness to a world where "peace and equality don't exist." Afterwards, when Uta causes the massacre on Elegia, Shanks shoulders all the blame, effectively hiding the truth to protect her. He sacrifices his own connection with his daughter for what he believes is the greater good. Note that Shanks’ own personal feelings on that decision are never explored or discussed; obviously, Shanks loved his daughter, and it's safe to assume he didn't want to leave her. But he set aside his own happiness and made the hard choice anyway. (Sound familiar? The "savior complex" alarm bells should be ringing in your head.)

Even as an emperor, Shanks sacrifices his own strength, influence, and reputation. His fleet is “notoriously weak.” The pirates within it even admit that they never would have survived this long without Shanks protecting them. This fleet is another responsibility weighing Shanks down, and yet he takes on that burden anyway for their sake.

We don’t have the full context behind Shanks’ decision at Loguetown either, but it’s likely that his refusal to go Laughtale right away ties back to responsibility, too. We know whatever Roger said to Shanks the day their crew disbanded rendered him to tears. (Did Roger’s answer to his question change his mind?) We also know he regards Luffy as Roger’s successor, and claims Luffy acts just like he did as a kid. (Shanks "crowning" Luffy with Roger's hat also parallels Shanks' moment with Roger visually, placing them in similar roles.)

Given this, it’s possible that Shanks believed he could take on Roger’s legacy, but later realized he would not be the one to change the world. Roger might have even tasked him with finding the “true” successor, who will “turn the world upside down.” (Shanks’ fixation with the “new age” would also make sense in that case.) This is all speculation, but I thought I’d throw it out there anyway, because if this were true, Shanks would have sacrificed his own dream for the sake of the world. (Very fitting!)

But how does Shanks feel about his role in the bigger picture? The short answer: we don’t know, and I think that’s purposeful. Oda consistently draws Shanks looking wistful and resigned when it comes to his choices; although he has severed relationships and damaged his body, not once has he expressed resentment, anger, or sorrow. In fact, he's usually smiling.

Shanks also has his own monologue where he discusses the act of crying.

If you apply his advice to his own character journey, it raises a lot of questions. Does Shanks view his current sacrificial actions as “overcoming” his own tears from back then? Is that why we so rarely see him cry now? Considering how reserved Shanks is in expressing negative emotions, I think it’s possible. His emotional restraint could also be seen as “saving face” for the sake of others – something I’ve discussed before. That is my own interpretation, though, so take it with a grain of salt.

Speculation aside, Shanks has shown time and time again that he prioritizes the future over his own life. His dedication to/fixation with the "new age," his role as a mentor, how he believes in putting his life on the line and "overcoming" negative emotions... these indicate a pattern of behaviors seen in those with savior complexes. Even if it's at the cost of his own mental/physical well-being, Shanks plans to facilitate the world as Luffy changes it.

Is the "new age" his dream, or did he sacrifice his real dream for the sake of the new age? Does that dream even matter to him, anymore? The reasoning for Shanks' motives is still unknown, but the answer must lie in whatever mysterious question he asked Roger – otherwise, why hide the context for his massive turnabout at Loguetown? Once the curtain is drawn back on that moment, I think we will begin to see Shanks in a new light.

#one piece #shanks #red haired shanks #luffy #one piece meta #op meta #long post #meta #akagami no shanks #character analysis

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nutzgunray-lvt · 1 year ago

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Why I Hate Canon Dadzawa

I'm pretty sure I've said this before multiple times, but Aizawa is my second least favorite character in MHA behind Bakugou and ahead of Shinsou. Most of this is because of his canon actions/how he's written, but a lot of this is due to people INSISTING that Fanon Dadzawa is Canon Dadzawa.

To put out a disclaimer, I don't mind Fanon Dadzawa. There's been some really well written Fanon Dadzawa fics that I like, and I'm of the belief that you can and should write whatever fics you want. I also think that Canon Dadzawa/Aizawa as a whole could have been such an interesting character had he been written better. Instead (like with almost every other character in MHA) we get someone whose actions don't match how he's supposed to come off as.

This topic is a sore spot for me, because the people who got me into MHA tried selling me on Dadzawa, Dadzawa, Dadzawa. I felt so tricked when I first got into it and saw that none of what they were saying was true.

Just like how Bakugou is a Temu version of Vegeta (so insulting to Vegeta) and Sasuke (who is another character I don't really like, but will put well above Bakugou), Aizawa is a SheIn version of Kakashi; a conventionally attractive, badass, no-nonsense teacher who genuinely cares about and is protective of his students. I have my problems with Kakashi, but it's at least been actually shown that he cares for his students, and whenever he does a "Rational Deception", he not only immediately explains himself, but he only ever did them in his introduction. For that matter, he's actually a good friend to Guy.

Aizawa, on the other hand, is a hot mess of a walking, talking contradiction in writing and Character Shilling. We're constantly told that he's this amazing teacher and amazing person, but the evidence doesn't match up with these claims.

He never owns up to his failings, choosing to a) ignore them entirely, b) excuse them away, or c) throw other undeserving people under the bus to make himself look good. We see this in how he halfheartedly acknowledges Ida angrilly calling him out on his repeated lying to 1A, when he excuses away his utter failure in curbing Bakugou's awful behavior with his "deep seated conviction" in bring a hero, and when he tries throwing All Might under the bus when Hound Dog calls them out in exaserbating Izuku's trust issues after the Gentle Criminal fight.

For that matter, he has yet to apologize to Izuku after his realization during the Liberation Front War of how much of jackass he was to him. Seriously, Izuku has saved his ass I don't know how many times, and he continued being such an ungrateful bastard towards him. I'm not saying he should have gotten on his knees and proclaimed his life to him, but you would think that would have at least changed his attitude towards him.

And speaking of Izuku, while he's always on his ass about his Quirk control... he completely ignores the issues that Aoyama and Kaminari have with THEIR Quirks. Kaminari being taken hostage at the USJ due to his lack of Quirk Control goes completely unacknowledged, and Aoyama's lack of Quirk Control is treated solely for comedic value. You'd think Dadzawa: Best UA Teacher would try to help the two of them as well, but nope.

I could go on all day about his expulsion record, but the point is, he's ruining these students' lives due to him projecting his own traumas onto them. I have to reiterate this, but these expulsions DO IN FACT stay on their permanent records. In Japan, having an expulsion on your permanent record CAN AND WILL prevent you from getting a well paying job. Expulsion is treated as an absolute last resort for a reason, and to see him throw that threat around like it's nothing is horrible of him. Nedzu is a horribly negligent principal for letting Aizawa do this, and the fact that nobody has sued UA for this is a miracle.

Then we get to his favoritism of Bakugou and Shinsou, probably the biggest indicator of his hypocrisy.

It makes absolutely NO SENSE that Aizawa's presented as this strict hardass of a teacher, and then he's shown giving preferental treatment to an abusive egoist (that was canonically how Bakugou was described in his character profile) and a whiny, Quirkist Troll doll that's not even in the Heroics Course. This is especially egrigious considering how often he bitches and moans about All Might mentoring Izuku! He sticks his neck out for Bakugou when he absolutely doesn't deserve it and when you know for a fact he wouldn't do this for his other students.

For that matter, he's such an awful friend to Mic and Midnight. His relationship with both of them is all take and no give. Mic canonically surpressed his own grief and trauma surrounding Oboro and Midnight's deaths for Aizawa's sake, and while it was wrong of Midnight to throw Aizawa's name into the teacher's ring behind his back, he repays her trying to get him a job by doing all the above I just listed. His relationship with them is unhealthy as hell, especially since they NEVER take him to task for his awful behavior.

On top of all of THAT, he genuinely thinks he's this amazing teacher and person, given how angry he gets at Mic for calling him a terrible teacher during the Sports Festival. He calls Vlad King a better teacher than him... but doesn't do ANYTHING to change his ways. You can't have it both ways, Aizawa.

In conclusion, Aizawa would have been such an interesting character had he been allowed to examine and change his attitude and teachings. Instead, we get someone who unfairly has a reputation of being a paragon of goodness and rationality.

#anti shota aizawa #anti aizawa shota #anti dadzawa #present mic deserves better #class 1a deserves better #anti katsuki bakugou #anti shinsou hitoshi #izuku deserves better #midnight deserves better #mha critical #horikoshi critical #bnha critical

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years ago

Text

Apologue.

Yan Albedo x F Reader. Commissioned piece.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, Albedo just having this strange unsettling energy... Word count: 3k.

There’s a homely atmosphere to Mondstadt that you don’t experience in other cities.

Everyone knows one another and does their part. If a neighbor falls ill, without requiring formal organization, the community provides meals so fresh, you can still see steam rising off it. Birthdays are remembered each year, you go to one childhood friend’s wedding then the next, and funerals pack the Favonius Cathedral to its limit. There’s an unspoken sense of togetherness each denizen of the city of freedom possesses. It is invisible, yet tangible, like a gentle breeze.

That’s why you don’t think much of it when Noelle seeks you out, carrying the news that once again, Klee has been placed in solitary confinement.

When the stalwart maid departs, you just sigh and shake your head. Klee’s solitary confinement punishment has become synonymous with ‘wait until [First] comes to take her off our hands.’ The Spark Knight may not be your blood relation, yet you often care for and look after her. Her eccentric mother is gone more than she’s around. While you can appreciate Alice’s zest for adventure, you wish she’d take her daughter into account before disappearing for half a year.

You can practically hear the globe-trotter’s voice from the last time you raised this concern.

“That’s what I have you for,” Alice would say. “Klee is fortunate to have such a kindhearted influence like you in her life. If it ever gets to be overwhelming, why not rely on her big brother more?”

At the mention of him, you dropped the topic. If Alice noticed the change in your demeanor, she didn’t comment on it. She instead elected to discuss a stipend you then respectfully refused. Monetary compensation was the last thing on your mind — you were raised in a community that helped one another because they wanted to.

You slide a bookmark into the latest novel that caught your interest. Chapter five will have to wait until after you’ve rescued Klee from the strange way the Knights try curbing her behavior.

Not even a second later, a shadow envelops your form on what is otherwise a sunny day.

“[First],” a calm voice belonging to a certain alchemist greets. Then there’s a gloved hand held out for you to take. “I assume you’re also going to headquarters?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you inspect the choice you’ve been presented with. Presently, you’re sitting in a field of fluffy dandelions, right outside Mondstadt’s gates. This particular gesture is harmless enough. It feels like a concession on your part, but nonetheless, you place your palm in his and he hoists you up from the ground.

You come eye to eye with Mondstadt’s resident genius, Albedo.

It isn’t until silence resounds that you realize you should respond.

“Yes, I was just about to walk over there now. How did you…?”

“I heard about Klee’s predicament. As her guardian, I wanted to smooth things over with Jean.”

“Of course,” you say a little too hastily. Your eyes flicker downward, to where your hands remain connected. Should you tug it back? The thought doesn’t sit well with you, it’s too flagrant. Fortunately, he notes where your attention lingers, and releases his hold. You pray the relief you feel isn’t too palpable.

You dust some imaginary dirt off your blouse. “I’ll let you get to it, then. I know you’re busy.”

“You aren’t planning to come with me?”

His tone isn’t the slightest bit accusatory, and still, you’re burdened with this burning need to defend yourself.

“Ah, well, there’s no need for both of us to go, right?”

“Klee’s missed seeing you around, you’re all she talks about,” The edges of Albedo’s lips tug into a smile. His eyelids then droop ever so slightly, and he tilts his head. “I hope your reluctance isn’t because you’re trying to avoid me.”

Incredulous, you gape at him, heat flooding your face. He’s impossible to get a read on. If eyes are windows to the soul, then that wall of impenetrable teal might as well be shutters. Most consider Albedo to be aloof and polite enough, if not impersonal. He doesn’t entertain conversations longer than necessary and prefers to be left alone to his own devices. You either pique his interest or you don’t. Depending on the category you land in, he’s more willing to show his wry disposition.

“I’m joking,” Albedo claims, though his composed visage remains impassive. “You’ve already done plenty for her. You’re under no obligation to do more.”

This snaps you back to reality. “It isn’t like that. Should we discuss this later? I don’t want Klee to be in that dark closet longer than necessary.”

He takes a moment to study you. You instantly regret the way your words came out, they were more abrasive than you intended. He didn’t technically say anything to incite your displeasure. From a purely logical standpoint, this rings true every time you’ve talked. You’re never given a justification for the apprehension his presence brings.

At least with a bad omen, you know what to expect, even if it foretells disaster. There’s a paradoxical comfort that comes from learning certain doom awaits. It is kinder to tell a man he’ll be killed tomorrow than to say he’ll be killed sometime in the future. He’ll rest easier the night total oblivion awaits compared to an agitated lifetime of glancing over his shoulder. True anguish comes not from knowledge, but a lack of it.

This is the limbo you occupy where Albedo is concerned. A permanent state of inertia that could equally be a product of your overimaginative mind or a legitimate threat. A pendulum swings yet tauntingly, yet never fully settles between the two.

Albedo finally grants clemency from being held prisoner beneath his stare.

“You’re right. That takes priority,” he relents. When he’s no longer facing you, he then casually adds, “It’s never good to be kept in the dark.”

You scrunch your lips to the side and follow him into Mondstadt.

“Big sis?”

Klee sits before you on a red gingham blanket. The little girl pinky promised not to try playing leapfrog with her bombs in Mondstadt’s main square again, but in return, she wanted an outing with you and Albedo. This request was paired with doe eyes and a pout. Although you had your reservations, this infamous combination easily demolished your defenses. So here you are, sitting beneath the shade of the monumental oak tree in Windrise. For the moment, Albedo is absent, the only sign he’d been here is his easel. He said something about needing a more accurate shade to faithfully paint your hair and took off to his workshop.

“Hm? What is it, Klee?”

You continue brushing through her platinum blonde locks. In all the excitement today, her signature hairstyle got entangled in knots.

“Are you mad at big brother?” She inquires, much to your astonishment. You’re grateful she’s situated in such a way that she can’t see your face. “When he comes back from the snowy mountain, I don’t see you as much.”

Your grip on the hairbrush tightens. Kids are nothing if not observant. “I’m not mad at him, no. I’ve just been busy lately.”

“All the fun grownups are always busy,” You can practically hear the way she puffs out her cheeks. “No one can tell stories like you, big sis. The chatty lady with a bird tried, but I couldn’t understand.”

What’s admittedly a cute anecdote tugs on your heart in a painful way. You do come around less often when Albedo is in town. For the longest time, he seemed content to conduct research for months in the frigid climate of Dragonspine. This allowed your interactions to be few and far between. Lately, however, he’s been hovering around Mondstadt like a storm cloud that refuses to dissipate.

Hence your current predicament: avoiding him meant avoiding Klee. It’s a temporary solution in desperate need of a better fix.

Not wanting to sully the mood, you extend an offer. “Would you like me to tell you a story now to make up for it?”

She practically leaps up in excitement. Stars twinkle in her eyes as she wraps her arms around your form, pulling you into a tight hug. You can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. You’ve never found the stories particularly impressive, though Klee would vehemently disagree. It must have to do with your flexibility to retcon Dodoco into every fairytale. He’s been a valiant knight, a mad scientist, an explorer of the sky, and far more. Your humble apartment is decorated with colorful drawings from Klee, depicting these collaborative storytelling efforts.

Her attention goes up and over your shoulder. “Big bro! Big bro! Big sis is gonna tell a story!”

He must be back. That was fast.

“Oh, is that right?” You hear Albedo reply. Klee nods fast enough that it’s a miracle she doesn’t get dizzy. “I had good timing then. It’s been a while since we’ve been treated to a [First] narrative.”

Is he going to make a point of mentioning that as well? You pay him no mind, instead opting to fix Klee’s hair before she gets too impatient. She sits crisscross, unclasps Dodoco from her backpack, and places him on her lap so he can participate. Meanwhile, Albedo gets to mixing his paints. He’s already roughly sketched various outlines onto the canvas. So far, it’s Klee tugging on your hand, pulling you to some unknown yet fantastical destination.

Klee once told you her big brother has drawings of you “everywhere” in his laboratory, prolonging the first syllable for emphasis. You still recall how you shuddered upon hearing this revelation.

“Let’s see… what kind of story would you like to hear, Klee?”

“A scary story!”

You knit your eyebrows together. “... A scary story? Are you sure? I don’t want to give you bad dreams.”

“It’s okay. I have Dodoco and my big brother to protect me,” Klee reassures. “Ms. Lisa told me I can’t check out a scary story until I’m older. She said you’d share one with me instead. Pretty please?”

That’s one crafty librarian. What is it with the Knights of Favonius and pawning their Klee-related problems off onto you? Your genial nature must lend itself to such dilemmas. After mulling it over a few moments, you arrive at a story that frightened you as a kid, but not excessively so. You’ll still tone down some elements regardless.

“Once upon a time, there was a poor married couple who lived in the woods. The wife was pregnant with their first child, yet she never had enough to eat. She asked her husband to pick vegetables from a nearby field, believing it’d long been abandoned by its owner, who they never saw. Her husband did as he was asked. He returned with cabbages, carrots, and potatoes. His wife cooked a yummy stew. Full and happy, she no longer had to worry about being hungry. A healthy baby girl was soon born. Their daughter grew up to become a sweet young lady who everyone in the nearby villages loved. Though the family had little, they cherished one another. All seemed well. Until one day, the father went hunting, and came across a man wearing a cloak.”

Klee’s eyes widen and she leans in closer.

“The man wearing the cloak revealed himself to be a warlock who had magical powers. He knew that many years ago, the husband had taken vegetables from his garden. The warlock demanded to be paid back for what was stolen. The husband said he had nothing of value. The warlock threatened the husband, saying that he’d place a curse on him and his family for a thousand generations. Unless, that is, he made it right by giving up what he loves most. And there was nothing the husband loved more than his sweet daughter. Left with no other choice, the married couple tearfully gave up their daughter to the warlock.”

“Oh no!” Klee exclaims in a whisper. “The poor daughter…”

You nod solemnly in agreement. “And so it was that the daughter was taken to a dark, isolated tower where the sun never shone. The warlock quickly fell in love with the woman, for she was very beautiful and kind. He did everything he could to make the young woman love him too. He gave her the finest jewelry and clothes in the land. Still, she wept bitterly at the sight of him, no matter what he tried. The warlock then thought to use his magic. One night, when he approached her, he created a pretty bundle of the reddest roses from nothing. She—”

“He made a flower? Like what big brother can do?”

…

An audible snap can be heard behind you.

You look over your shoulder to see Albedo holding his paintbrush, which has splintered into two.

There’s a quiet intensity radiating off him in waves. He’s frowning, though other than that, his countenance remains as unreadable as a tome in a foreign tongue. He ignores you completely and fixes his strange stare on his younger sister.

“Klee,” he starts in a monotonous voice, “Would you mind running back home and getting me a new paintbrush?”

“Aw, but big sis is in the middle of her story! I wanna know what happens to the nice girl and evil magic man.”

“You can find out when you get back. I’d really appreciate your help, Klee.”

It’s rare that Albedo ever asks for help, much less from her. She promises that she’ll be right back and sets Dodoco onto the picnic blanket, so that “you and big brother won’t get lonely.” She then skips off onto Mondstadt’s main road. Once she’s out of earshot, you stand to your feet, smoothing out the wrinkles on your skirt.

“Unaware of your own strength, huh?” You ask Albedo, almost absentmindedly. When he doesn’t respond, you swivel on your heel.

The alchemist is scrutinizing his work with a hand on his chin. He must’ve been in the middle of painting your hair when his paintbrush broke, the glossy streaks revealing that it’s still wet. You pull your lips into a straight line. It isn’t like him to zone you out. You’re about to voice a similar sentiment when he finally speaks up.

“It’s smudged,” he mutters under his breath.

The impossibly idyllic scene he tried depicting is marred with an imperfection.

Teal hues scrutinize you next. “Would you be open to changing the tone of the story when Klee returns?”

“Hm? Why’s that?” You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s important that she learns there are people in the world who don’t take no for an answer, always testing the limits of what they can get away with.”

It’s such a miniscule motion, you almost miss it, but you know for certain his eye twitched.

“Is that so?”

The calm waters of his voice obscure the raging tides hidden beneath the surface. Soft tufts of sandy blonde hair brush against his face as a zephyr passes through, rustling nearby branches with it. To be a citizen of Mondstadt and a child of Barbatos means to ascribe importance to the wind. The direction it blows, its strength, and what scents or sounds may come along with it. The Anemo Archon watches over his people with a certain fondness the other gods lack.

You wonder what it is he’s trying to get across to you.

“You have that expression again,” Albedo comments.

“... What expression?”

“A prey warily eyeing a predator,” he’s walking toward you now. You go stiff yet remain firmly planted. “Attempting to access the threat level and plan accordingly. To fight back, flee, or do nothing. Do you no longer find the last option appealing?”

The pendulum errs to the side of warning.

He still isn’t giving you anything substantial. In passing, you’ve heard of Sumeru scholars who spend their entire lives trying to find rare, elusive species. Camouflage is what allows these lifeforms to go undetected for so long. They slip under the researcher’s noses, almost tauntingly, blending into their surroundings and giving the false impression there’s nothing worthwhile to look at. Then the researcher moves on to the next area, frustrated and at a loss.

Perhaps you came to a conclusion prematurely. A lack of knowledge may be damning, but possessing it and being unable to do anything might be the cruelest fate of all.

“I don’t get it. Why don’t you just do something already? Say what’s really on your mind?” You seethe in a fit of frustration, jabbing your fingers at his chest. He doesn’t so much as flinch. “You obviously want something from me that I’m not willing to give. Is this some sort of punishment for not feeling the same way you do?”

“Nothing I do is intended as a punishment on you, [First].”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Waiting.”

You take a step back as if the word had physically pushed you. “What is it you’re waiting for…?”

Albedo extends his hand into the air. The sensation surrounding him begins slowly, a focusing of energy. He sees the world for what it can be, not what it currently is. A light golden hue emanates from his outstretched palm. You’ve seen him do this enough times to recognize the alchemical process. For a natural like him, overlooking notes or extensive preparation isn’t necessary. Sucrose often impressed upon you just how prodigious Albedo’s abilities are.

The gold light fades.

Dark green stems twist into vivacious hues of blood-colored petals. Utilizing his esoteric knowledge, Albedo produced a bundle of red roses from thin air. He takes one, inspects it for thorns, and once he confirms there are none, nestles it gently behind your ear. He sweeps your hair aside with such tenderness that any passerby might mistake you two as lovers.

Dumbstruck, you accept the bouquet into your hands at his prompting.

There it is. That mischievous glint, flickering in his eyes briefly, just long enough to burn. It extinguishes before you can gauge how dangerous the fire will one day become.

“Finish the story and maybe you’ll find out.”

#albedo x reader #yandere albedo x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #my stuff #commissions

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Note

gojo’s younger sister with nanami pls

Your wish is my command. Planned this for sooo long and now I finally have an excuse to write it down haha. Please let me know if you like it <3

Nanami and Gojo's little sister meeting again years after their ugly breakup

Pairing: Nanami x Gojo's sister

Word Count: 3,5k

Synopsis: It's been some hell of years since Nanami left Gojo's younger sister for another woman. But when her big brother invites her to Jujutsu HIgh again, things start to unveil...

Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, just got a new laptop so there might be some spelling mistakes (sorry about that)

As usual, I'm always thankful for comments, likes and reblogs. Thank you for your support <3

„Why me?“, Nanami growls, looking up from the paper in his hands.

“Because I’m absolutely not in the mood to listen to her gossip. Also, you’re her favorite. Sometimes I even think she loves you more than me…”

“Satoru, I’m not the babysitter for your little sister.”

“Come on Namani, I bet she’s happy to see you again! You guys got along so well!”

The imagines of your last meet-up crowd into his head and inevitably make Nanami grimace.

“The emphasis is on ‘got’. You know exactly what happened last time. What makes you think she wants to see me after all of this?”, Nanami questions in annoyance.

Deep down, he knows exactly that Gojo just wants to mess with him. It’s been years since he dumped you. Years in which you never saw each other again. Satoru mentioned that you are travelling somewhere in japan and driving out curses there quite successfully. You’ve always been a very gifted jujutsu sorcerer. It seems to run in the family – as well as your bratty behavior and good looks.

“That was years ago, I bet her sparrow brain has long since forgotten who you even are. Please pick her up”, Gojo purrs and rubs his head against Nanami’s shoulder.

Nanami signs in defeat. Does he have any choice at all? Hopefully you know about it and there is no nasty surprise…

-later at the airport-

Your bag falls to the ground with a rattle.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here, Sir”, you cry out, eyes covered in sunglasses.

“Your brother said to pick you up from the airport and that you know”, Nanami explains briefly, like it would somehow help curb your upcoming anger.

“That shithead. I just shouldn’t have come at all. Urgh, fine. Just don’t talk to me, idiot”, you snap back and angrily throw your bag in the trunk of the car.

Kento is the last person you want to see and Satoru knows that. Why is he sending him here? He could have moved his lazy ass to pick you up himself. After all, it was him who invited you to his academy in order to help him out.

You demonstratively sit in the back seat and cross your arms in front of your chest, not gifting him a single look. Kento was the first man to ever break your heart – extensively. And you will probably never be able to forgive him for that.

“That should not be a problem”, Nanami mutters to himself and starts the car.

Your eyes pierce through the back of his head. What did he just say?

“Like you’ve got a reason to be mad at me”, you hiss.

“May I remind you that you didn’t even give me the chance to work things out? You just packed your things and left”, Nanami comments dryly and starts the car.

“Like it was ever your intention to fix it.”

“Good that you know better what I thought than me”, he barks back, unusual aroused.

God, you’re still as annoying as back then. Always having the last word, you always think you know better, your overconfidence. It drives him insane. But you still look as good as you did then, like you haven’t aged a second. The only thing that catches is eyes are your now fuller curves and the fact that you cut your hair a little shorter. Well, you are a woman now, all grown up in your twenties.

“You left me completely shattered, asshole. I had no choice but to go. You made me lose faith in love and relationships forever”, you mutter, gaze wandering around the trees outside.

The thought alone runs shivers down your spine. Kento was your first and last love. You never believed a man would upset you like that, even though Satoru is your bigger brother. It hurt like hell for several years. Seeing him now, with his hair styled in a delicious undercut and the sharp lines of his jaw makes your heart ache in agony all over again.

“I sincerely apologize for that. It was never my intention to hurt you like that, (y/n)”, Nanami replies with a soft voice, completely startled by your confession.

He knew you had some rough years. Sometimes he just couldn’t hold back and had to ask Satoru how you were. But hearing from your own mouth how much he hurt you makes his heart sink in his chest.

“Whatever. Leave me alone and focus on driving.”

-at Jujutsu High-

“(y/n), there you are! You have no idea how much I missed you!”, Satoru shouts across the athletic field that separates you both.

Your whole body shakes in anger. That fucking asshole, the cheeky grin on his stupid face says it all. That was pure intention to get on your nerves. Satoru is probably the worst big brother you could wish for.

“I will beat your ass in front of your students, shithead!”, you yell at him and stomp across the square at a frightening speed.

“Who is that?”, Yuji questions and squints his eyes in order to see you better.

“That’s Gojo’s little sister. Be careful, she looks pretty pissed off”, Panda whispers while all pairs of eyes are set on you and Nanami walking behind you at a safe distance.

“Come on, (y/n). Let’s talk abou-“

Satoru isn’t able to finish his sentence as you blow him away with a simple hand movement.

“Pretty stupid to piss off the only person who can breach your sphere”, you hiss through gritted teeth, more than ready to hit him again.

“Oh, how much I missed our little fights. How was your ride? Nanami is an excellent driver”, he keeps digging while dodging your unfocused punches.

“I thought you valued my feelings more.”

The hurt in your voice makes him stop your flying fists in track, you can feel his eyes staring at you behind his blindfold. He knew, of course, that the breakup hurt, but the pain that glitters in your eyes is unknown to him. And the tone of your voice…You were always so confident, so sure of yourself. At the moment, nothing seems to be left of it.

“I would never hurt you on purpose sister. After all these years, I thought you guys-“

“Shut up Satoru, I don’t wanna hear it”, you hiss back and wrench your arms free from his grasp.

“Hey Megumi, how have you been?”, you question over your shoulder.

“I’m alright. Nice that you’re here, you are definitely my favorite Gojo”, Megumi answers with a disparaging look towards Satoru.

“Well, the competition isn’t that big. Excuse me, I’ll bring my stuff in the house. See you later, kids.”

Without giving your brother another look, you stomp towards the sleeping wing, body still trembling in anger. Why is Satoru such a jerk? He knows full well that this breakup has left you completely shattered. It would have been absolutely avoidable to meet Kento here. Instead, he decided to get him to pick you up from the airport and ruin your trip right from start. You don’t want to see his stupid handsome face, the exhausted veil that covers his overworked eyes and his outrageously strong body. Damn, his new undercut really does look good.

“Here is your suitcase, (y/n). Have a nice stay.”

Nanami’s voice behind you makes your blood boil in an instant. Fuck, why can’t he just leave?

“Stop saying my name”, you bark at him while literally ripping open the door to the familiar guest dorm.

“Why can’t you act grown up for once? I’ve always appreciated you, this childish behavior doesn’t suit you at all”, Nanami replies dryly and loudly drops your bags on the floor at the corner of the room.

His words hit you like a wall. In the matter of seconds, he rips open all the wounds you desperately tried to heal over the last years. Has he forgotten what he did to you, why you act this way? Hot tears begin to burn in the corners of your eyes, your throat feels dangerously constricted. No, don’t cry. You’ve never been the type to whine a lot, especially in front of other people. Kento has never seen the tears he caused. Why now, after all these years?

“I gave you everything I had, Kento! I gave you my virginity, my whole fucking heart, you were everything for me this whole time! And after our very first night together you just left, after all the things we’ve been through. The things you threw at me…I will never forget the words you said. You claim you always appreciated me? That sounds like an insult. Don’t you dare to ever judge me again for treating you as badly as you treated be. How’s your girlfriend, huh? Was it worth it to dump me because of her? You fucking idiot, if you talk to me like that again I’ll blow your head off”, you scream into his face at the top of your lungs.

You can’t help but let your feelings out. Fuck, it feels good to finally tell him what you think, to tell him how you felt this whole time. He ripped your heart out of your chest when he informed you about ending things because he met another woman, just after fucking you for the first time. You felt miserably for years, never let another man touch you again. He has some nerves, standing in front of you and blaming you cowardly. Fuck your outburst and your tear-stained cheeks.

“If only you would listen to-“

“GET OUT. NOW”, you yell, whole body trembling in agony and rage.

“I think it’s time to go, Nanami”, Satoru’s unusual serious voice announces in the background.

“I hope that someday we can talk about what happened, (y/n).”

With that, he turns on his heels and leaves the room quietly. As soon as his frame is out of sight, your body gives in. You sink to the floor, hands covering your blood shot orbs while you urgently try to calm yourself down.

“I’m just not interested into you anymore, we should end things right here.”

“That night meant nothing to me.”

“Don’t ever call or text me again.”

You need to get him and his words out of your head, ban them out of your heart. But how do you forget all those nights you snuggled each other to sleep, his sweet words that followed you wherever you went, all those missions you accomplished together. What about the plans you made? What about the trust you gave him? Your shallow, rapid breath hanging dreadfully in the air. You just can’t forget.

“Come on, (y/n). Seeing you like this is killing me”, Satoru sits beside you and gently wraps his arm around his shoulder.

You want to yell at him, tear your body away from his touch, to slap his arm firmly. But you can’t. Your body refuses to move, completely consumed by the feelings you tried so hard to avoid.

“I think you two should talk. Of course I don’t know all the details, but I do know for sure that Nanami isn’t a bad guy. Whatever happened must have a good reason.”

“He left me for another girl, Satoru”, you breathe out.

“You may be the most annoying woman on this earth and I’ll never understand how well you two came along in the first place, but I’d cut off my hand if that’s true.”

“Better cut off your tongue, man…”

“I’m serious, (y/n)”, Satoru’s features are entirely stern, not even a spark of humor gleams in his eyes.

“Nanami may not be a great guy like me but he would have never cheated on you, let alone left you because of it. Talk to him, ask him about it. Must have been something else.”

He straightens himself up again, pouting your head just the way you hate it.

“And now get yourself together. I’ve got a very nice mission for you to go on.”

You stare at his back as he leaves the room, his words still hanging in the air. Satoru knows Kento since he joined Jujutsu High. If he is so sure about his friend…

No. You shake your head vehemently. Even Satoru doesn’t know everything. You would rather die than talk to Kento Nanami ever again.

-the mission-

“Huh, are you finished already? I thought we’d have a little more fun together…”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Your whole body is covered in bruises and your own blood while you stare at the creature in front of you. Who the hell is this guy? And why on earth is he so fucking strong? You are a grade 1 sorcerer, easily able to defeat most curses around. But this one? You stare at his scarred face, grimaced into a dumb grin.

This is something out of your league.

“Send someone here before I croak here, dumbass”, you hiss into your communicator just in time before he hits you again.

His attacks are merciless, almost impossible to block even though he doesn’t use a sphere.

Yet.

You wipe sweat and blood of your forehead. Who knows what this fucker is capable of.

“Ms. Gojo, we are here to help you!”

You can’t believe your ears. Who the hell is this guy waving at you like an idiot? And who the hell is walking next to him…

No. Not in the world. Let it be anyone but Kento Nanami. His blonde hair waves through the air while he forces himself onto the scar head, distracting him from your very own self before he hits you full force.

Nanami. What is he doing here? Thick anger crawls up your veins. Yes, you ask for help. But not from Nanami and some random jujutsu sorcerer.

“I thought Satoru would come here himself. This is nothing to joke around”, you bark at Kento.

Just as you want to turn away, a scorching pain radiates from your leg and takes your breath. Fuck, where does that come from?

“Oh, you’re injured!”

Your heart sinks into your chest, palms covered in nothing but your own blood and met by a giant gash in your thigh. When did this happen? This asshole has hit you so many times that you probably didn’t even notice it in your adrenaline rush.

This is bad. Very very bad. Even though he didn’t hit you critically, the amount of blood that runs down your leg is enough for you to know that you might bleed out if you won’t get any help.

“Are you alright?”

His tall frame lingers over you before you are able to stop him, kneeling down in front of you to take a look at your wound.

“Leave me alone-“

“This is serious. You might die, (y/n). I can’t afford to lose you.”

Like in trance you stare down at him, his words repeating themselves over and over in your head while your heart hammers against your chest.

“I can’t afford to lose you.”

“Why did you leave me, then?”

“Not now, (y/n). Yuji, stand your ground as long as possible. I need to escort (y/n) out of the curtain.”

“Gotcha!”

You slap his hands away, whole body trembling in…what? Anger, fear, agony? Maybe everything at once, you aren’t sure. His brown eyes dart towards you immediately.

“I’m trying to help you”, he comments dryly.

“This injury is nothing against the pain you caused me years ago.”

Your cruel words hit him like a wall. For a moment he can only stare at you, the way your striking blue orbs begin to glister and that look of distress on your beautiful face. No, you didn’t deserve what he did to you back then. You deserved so much better. But still…

“I did it for you.”

The words escape his mouth before he is able to stop himself.

“Oh, so traumatizing me was best for me? Wow, thank you so much for your help then. Maybe I should-“

“I saw what can happen. I saw what can happen when Yu died in front of my very own eyes. And I swore to myself to never let anything like that happen to you. I hoped you would quit being a jujutsu sorcerer, that hurting you enough would make you leave Jujutsu High for good, that you’d find a nice job. That you’d be safe.”

You stare at him through wet lashes, brain desperately trying to make sense out of his words. He can’t be serious, right? This can’t possibly be the reason why he left you.

But his eyes don’t lie. No, they never did.

“So you…you didn’t cheat on me?” you breathe out.

Fuck, you hate the way tears start to pool your eyes and how your whole body begins to tremble in emotion. All these years, all these horrible years you thought you meant nothing to Kento, that he ended your relationship because of another woman. All the things he said to you…They never left your head, always present in the following years.

You thought you weren’t good enough for him.

“I would have never cheated on you. But this was the only way to make you believe that I didn’t have any feelings for you.”

“Did you?”

You stare down at him, time standing still. All these wasted years of thinking you aren’t good enough. All these years you loved this man so much that you never let another man touch you. All these years of grieving his touch, of imagining him while touching yourself, of crying yourself to sleep instead of laying in his strong arms.

All this time. Can it really be fake?

“I never stopped loving you.”

Maybe it’s because of your blood loss or because your entire world turned upside down, but your knees give in, making you sink onto the floor if it wasn’t for Kento’s arms that catch you just in time.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

With fast steps he crosses the battlefield, eyes set on you from time to time. You still can’t believe it, everything seems like a dream that you’ve had multiple times before. He loves you. Nanami Kento just told you that he still loves you. After all these years of pretending he doesn’t care and breaking your heart.

“I wish you would have told me”, you mumble against his chest.

“I wish you would have told me the real reason. I would’ve understood, especially because I know how hard it was for you.”

“I realized how wrong this decision was. But every time we’ve met you were so distant, not even willing to talk a single word to me. I never had the chance to make up”, he explains briefly.

“You said you cheated on me”, you remind him weakly.

“I would have never cheated on you. Since you’ve been gone, I never touched another woman.”

You look up at him through wet lashes, the way his jawline is so tensed up that it might snap any minute. The urge to let your fingertips brush over his chest just like back then seems so unbearable all of the sudden. God, how much you loved caressing his soft skin, the scars that even then decorated his whole body. How does he look now? He definitely got older, aged like fine wine. You want to stop yourself from looking at him, from grieving his touch. After all he lied to you, he shattered your heart instead of just telling you the truth. Yes, he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness so easily for how he lied into your face this whole time. But still…

“Would you mind…Holding my hand?” you ask all of the sudden.

Nanami’s heart almost beats out of his chest, the way you look at him simply takes his breath away. He would have expected anything, but not this. No, this doesn’t suit your hot-tempered personality at all. Never in his life did he think that you would ask him to hold you hand after all the things he did to you, after he hurt you this badly. But who is he to resist your vibrant eyes, especially when you’re feeling unwell?

“Of course…” he stutters.

When his fingertips gently intertwine with yours, you feel as if he fired a firework inside you. God, how much you missed this. How much you missed him.

You allow your tired eyes to rest for a minute, whole body suddenly feelings so numb and light. Maybe all of this is just a dream and you’ll wake up any minute. But until then…

You want to hold his hand just like back then.

“But don’t think I’ll forgive you this easily”, you mutter weakly.

“This wouldn’t suit you at all”, he replies.

And for the first time in years, Kento Nanami is able to grin again. Because he finally confessed to the love of his life, because you’re laying here in his arm while holding his hand.

Everything will work out eventually.

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harrywavycurly · 1 year ago

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Eternal Obsession Part 1: Evening Stroll

Masterlist: here

TW: Slight obsessive behavior

Tag List: @dream-a-little-nightmare @josephquinnsfreckles @chickenandsheep-blog @sweetmoonlove0214 @justheretoreadleavemealone @eddiesgirlforever @ali-r3n @joantje @mrsjellymunson @munsons-mayhem28 @manda-panda-monium @cherrymedicine13

A/N: I am so excited for this mini series! There’s going to only be six parts and you’ll get a new update once a week the last one being on Halloween! I hope y’all enjoy this first look at Vampire Eddie and also in this series it’s modern day and you’ll get more details on when Eddie was turned as the series goes on✨

Eddie lets out a sigh as he zips up his leather jacket before walking down his driveway towards the sidewalk. He might not be able to feel how cold it is outside but he can tell by the orange and brown leaves taking over the ground that there’s a chill in the air and he likes to do what he can to blend in with the people of Hawkins as best he can even if it means wearing a ridiculous jacket that doesn’t do anything for him besides be a source of annoyance. He returns a semi friendly smile to his neighbor Greg who’s putting his trash by the curb, he’s always enjoyed having him as a neighbor because he never actually talks to Eddie but he’s always polite and offers a wave or a smile when he sees him.

Eddie relaxes as he starts on his now routine evening walk around his neighborhood and downtown Hawkins. He likes how peaceful and empty everything is at this time of night, when everyone is getting ready to turn in for the evening. He doesn’t ever have a route in mind for these walks he kinda just goes where he feels drawn to the most and tonight that means he’s turning left at the end of his street, leading him to a dead end at the beginning of the forest that eventually would take him all the way to Lover’s Lake if he kept his path. He raises an eyebrow as he looks around the trees as he takes a few steps into the forest, something isn’t right but he isn’t quite sure what.

“Oh fuck.” His ears twitch a bit as he hears a voice mumble from what sounds to be at least a few hundred feet away from where he’s stood. “That’s just great.” The voice adds with a bit of concern mixed in with what he can only guess is sarcasm. Eddie’s feet lead the way and within a few seconds he’s a mere few feet away from where the voice is coming from.

“Do you need-“ Eddie stops talking the moment you turn around and face him, your eyes lock with his and at that very moment Eddie swears a chill ran up his spine. Eddie notes the way your cheeks get flushed as you break eye contact with him making him smile as he thinks he quite likes the way you look when you blush.

“Do you need some help?” Eddie asks again as he looks around at what appears to be a very sad excuse for a campsite of some sort. “Bit cold for a night in the woods isn’t it?” He asks as he bends down and picks up a lantern that had been knocked over.

“I’m not spending the night out here.” You explain as you turn and watch him turn on the lantern allowing you to see his face for the first time. You have to remind yourself to breathe as Eddie’s eyes find yours as he lightly chuckles before offering you a smile. “I uhm…” you take a calming breath as you look away from him after grabbing the lantern from his hand, mentally taking a note at how cold it was when your fingers brushed with his. “I’m uh..erm..star.. stargazing.” Eddie takes a small step towards you as you struggle to form complete sentences.

Eddie takes this moment to really look at you, he doesn’t know why but he’s overcome with the urge to pull you into his arms and never let you go. He doesn’t know what’s happening as he gets hit with an emotion his hasn’t felt for decades, nervousness. He tilts his head to the side as he watches you struggle to compose yourself and he can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips as you let out a huff and turn so your back is now facing him.

“Stop doing that.” Eddie raises an eyebrow at your request as he takes another step towards you.

“Doing what?” He asks as his curiosity gets the best of him as he reaches his hand out and places it on your shoulder turning you around so he can once again look at your face that’s being illuminated by your lantern.

“Making my mind all mushy.” Eddie carefully reaches his hand that’s on your shoulder up to your face so he’s every so gently caressing your cheek. You flinch at how cold his hand is but you get over it quickly as you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“Mushy?” He questions as you reach up and place your free hand over his that’s still on your face. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to elaborate on that sweetheart.” He smiles as he hears your heartbeat almost sound like it fluttered as the word sweetheart slipped out of his mouth.

“I know it’s a vampire thing.” You close your eyes as you speak, hoping it’ll help you get control of your thoughts enough to be able to have a normal conversation. “You can make people’s thoughts all cluttered and make them confused and disoriented.” Eddie studies your face as a small wrinkle appears between your brows as you slowly open your eyes and instead of the soft gaze he was expecting he’s met with a hard glare. “It’s rude.” You snap as you drop your hand from top of his making him frown at the slight loss of contact.

“Am I making you disoriented?” He asks as his thumb begins gently rubbing over your cheek bone. Eddie doesn’t know what’s happening as he fights the urge to grab your face with his other hand and pull you into a kiss, he hasn’t had these urges since his human days and he’s confused as to why one look from you has almost sent him back in time as his heart feels like it’s getting closer and closer to actually beating with each second he stares into your eyes.

“Just uhm a little.” You know he can tell you’re lying but you don’t really care as Eddie’s almost dazzling beauty finally hits you when you raise your lantern up allowing his jawline and smooth skin to get hit by the light.

“You’re beautiful.” You’re caught off guard at his compliment making you blush and look down at your boot clad feet. “On second thought.” Eddie’s hand slides from your cheek down to beneath your chin so he can make it to where you’re looking up at him again. “Beautiful isn’t good enough…I don’t think there’s a word that accurately describes how…you look to me.” You feel your hand that’s holding the lantern fall to your side as Eddie’s sweet breath fans across your face making your knees begin to feel weak as he slowly places his other hand on your face so you can’t look away from him.

“Who-” your voice is more like a whisper as your knees finally give out on you causing your lantern to fall to the ground with a soft thud, but before you can even think about hitting the ground Eddie’s arms wrap around your middle holding you up. “Who are you?” Eddie just laughs and shakes his head at how silly he’s been having not introduced himself to you yet.

“Please forgive me I normally have better manners.” You watch him smile as he helps you get steady on your feet again. “I’m Eddie Munson.” His name is one you feel like you’ve heard before making Eddie raise an eyebrow at your confused look.

“The mechanic?” You ask after you quickly introduce yourself making Eddie laugh and nod his head, everyone in this town knows him as just being a mechanic. “You’re friends with Steve Harrington right?” Eddie feels a sense of jealousy overtake him as he rolls his eyes and releases his hold on your waist.

“Friend is a strong word.” Eddie argues as you take a seat on the fold out chair you’d brought so you could sit comfortably and watch the stars. “Just because we are both vampires doesn’t mean we are friends.” He adds as he takes a look around your little set up, he smiles as he finds a notebook sitting on top of a backpack that says “important things” in what he can only assume is your handwriting. His mind begins to wonder what kind of things you deem important enough to be write about in the notebook but before his curiosity could get the best of him he takes a few steps so he’s standing in front of you.

“Don’t you guys sort of stick together?” You ask shyly as you look down at your hands that are in your lap, needing a minute to breathe normally before you look him in the eyes again.

“Some form little gangs.” Eddie chuckles to himself at his use of the word gang, the crowd Steve hung out with is far from a gang. In reality they’re just a bunch of misfits who think they run Hawkins but the embarrassing truth is that Hawkins is just incredibly boring so they don’t have much to do besides annoy the locals any chance they can get.

“But not you?” Eddie bends down so he’s face to face with you while you’re sat in your chair. He places a hand on your knee and you’re not sure why but you find yourself reaching for his hand so you can place your smaller one on top of his.

“No not me.” He answers as you flip his hand so it’s palm up allowing you to interlock your fingers with his. “I like to keep to myself.” You smile when he gives your hand a small squeeze.

“This doesn’t look like you keeping to yourself.” Eddie just shrugs as you look at your hand in his wondering if he’s bothered by how warm your skin is compared to the coldness of his.

“Meeting you has changed me.” You know his words should spark some sort of confusion or at least a slight sense of worry in your mind but yet you find yourself feeling the exact opposite. “You have awoken something inside of me that I thought died a long time ago.” His voice is like velvet as it brings you a sense of warmth that you can’t help but find comfort in.

“I don’t understand.” You mumble making Eddie laugh.

“Isn’t it thrilling? Not knowing?” You feel a gust of wind as Eddie quickly and effortlessly picks you up and places you in his lap as he sits in the chair you were just occupying. “I don’t know what it is about you that has me feeling like this but I’ll figure it out eventually.” You feel his arms snake around your middle pulling you closer to him so your back is flush against his hard chest.

“Feeling like what?” Eddie leans his head down as you speak so his nose is tucked in your hair allowing him to be engulfed in your scent.

“Like death would be easier than being away from you.” Eddie frowns when he feels a shiver run through your body reminding him that unlike him you can feel the chill in the air and his abnormal body temperature isn’t helping.

“You feel that way about me after meeting me not even an hour ago?” Your voice betrays you as it makes you sound like you’re in awe of what Eddie just told you instead of the alarmed tone you meant for it to have.

“Yes? Is it not like that for humans?” He asks as he wraps his jacket around your shoulders allowing there to be extra fabric between your body and his hoping it’ll help warm you up.

“Not exactly.” Eddie’s brows furrow as he begins slowly running his hands up and down your arms.

“There’s love at first sight isn’t there? I distinctively remember learning about that when I was still alive.” You roll your eyes at the idea of love at first sight because there’s no way that’s what happened between the two of you, it has to be more of a vampire thing than just a love thing.

“Well yeah but that’s for humans.” You argue as you get comfortable in Eddie’s lap. Eddie just smiles as you rest your head on his shoulder so you can look up at the sky.

“I was human once.” Eddie whispers in your ear causing your cheeks to get warm at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie just hums in response as you all of a sudden become aware of the situation you’ve gotten yourself into.

“I won’t let anything harm you…including myself.” Eddie promises as if he can hear your thoughts but really he can just hear the way your heartbeat began to accelerate and your pulse quickened. “Ever.” He adds in hopes it’ll help you relax and to his surprise and yours you do find his words making you feel at ease.

“How’d you find me?” Your voice is quiet as you look at the stars as Eddie tightens his hold on you ever so slightly.

“I just knew where to go.” He explains because he hasn’t really got a logical answer. “I just went for a walk and wound up here.” You just nod as you place your hands over his that are resting in your lap. “How come you didn’t scream when you saw me? I know vampires aren’t a rare sighting but still you didn’t even try to run.” You feel your face get hot as Eddie asks you a question that you know the answer to is just going to feed into the already oddly intense relationship the two of you have.

“I knew you weren’t going to hurt me.” Eddie smiles as he leans back so he can look up at the sky. “I honestly felt relieved when I first saw you.” You mumble but you know Eddie heard you loud and clear.

“Relieved?” You just nod and Eddie smirks as he looks down at you just to find you’re already looking up at him. “I thought you were feeling…what was the word? Disoriented?” He teases making you roll your eyes.

“That was afterwards.” Eddie takes in every detail of your face so he can think back on it later as you give him a small smile. “But first I felt this sense of relief as if..I’d been waiting for you my whole life I just…didn’t know it until I saw you.” Eddie swears his heart almost leaped out of his chest at your confession, a silly thought since his heart hasn’t been functional in over forty years.

“Well I’m here now.” You watch him lean down so the tip of his nose gently brushed against yours. “And I’m always going to be here.” He smiles before he ever so softly places a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Forever?” Eddie knows your version of forever and his are entirely different so he just smiles as he leans in to place a kiss to your rosy cheek.

“Didn’t you come here to stargaze? I’ve been extremely rude and distracting to you and I apologize.” You can tell he’s changing the subject but you don’t mind as you look away from him and back up at the stars. A wave of exhaustion threatens to take you under into a deep sleep as the realization of the situation hits that you’re sitting in the woods with Eddie Munson, who is a vampire that seems to be in love with you and you don’t really mind because you might possibly feel the same.

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kinkandkreep · 1 year ago

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Hey hey y'all! 👋🏾

Soooo...𝑫𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒚 is complete! What did y'all think? Did you enjoy the ride? Were you surprised by any of the developments of the story? Were you on Team Forgive Miguel and Try Again or Team Kick that Bastard to the Curb? Let me know down below! 😁

I thought I'd do a little FAQ regarding the story, and also answer a few extraneous questions I received.

So, here we go!

First Question: Why did Miguel cheat?

Simple. Miguel cheated because he was weak.

...

Nah, I'm just playin'. Sorta.

Miguel cheated because, as was mentioned in the story, he was a coward and thought it was easier to run and seek comfort in the arms of someone who fed his ego and fed into the illusion he'd created about what true heroism is, than to try and actually talk it out with the one who truly held his heart.

Of course, I am by no means attempting to justify Miguel's behavior in saying this, but I will say that he was under a great deal of pressure trying to maintain the situation with the multiverse and had resolved himself to sacrificing whatever in order to keep it intact. (He also felt he was under pressure by the reader to have children, and though he wasn't opposed to the idea in the sense that he didn't want any, he didn't think it was safe enough to have them.)

When the reader naturally A.) couldn't comprehend why he was so willing to do something so comparatively extreme and B.) subsequently was against it, Miguel saw this as selfishness, and his tired mind sought out someone who he could relate more easily to.

The more time he spent with Layla, he naturally spent less time with the reader, and subsequently wasn't getting his carnal needs met because when he did spend time with the reader, the atmosphere was tense and they would argue. This eventually lead to him sleeping with Layla, to sate his sexual desires and take out his frustration in a way he couldn't with the reader.

Did that all make sense? 🙃

Second Question: Why did Miguel kill Layla?

Though this was explained briefly in the story, I realize that it might have been a little unclear, and that quite a few details were omitted. In short, Layla was a threat. She threatened to expose Miguel's affair to the other members of the Spider Society, none of whom had any knowledge of Layla's existence. If she'd exposed not only his affair, but the fact that he was harboring an anomaly from a different timeline without making the other society members aware, they very likely would have turned on him and he'd have lost his credibility and support. He couldn't have that, and so he dealt with Layla as his instincts dictated.

Third Question: What was the reader's plan?

The reader's plan is simultaneously simple and a bit convoluted. The reader, having been negatively influenced by her bitterness about her situation and Miguel's actions, decided that she also wanted to have her cake and eat it to. She decided to play the long game, willingly getting pregnant because A.) she still wanted a baby and B.) she could use her pregnancy to manipulate Miguel.

She essentially gaslit, gatekept, girlbossed her way out of her situation with Miguel. 😂 Over the months leading up to her conversation with Peter B, she used subtle manipulation to get Miguel to do beneficial things for her, such as changing her lodgings so that she could mor easily explore the complex and look for ways to escape while simultaneously making sure he was none the wiser.

Fourth Question: Was Layla a Spiderwoman?

Short answer, yes. Layla was a Spiderwoman from a separate universe who had lost her family during the collapse of her timeline.

Fifth Question: Why did Miguel already have a room ready for the reader prior to her discovering his affair?

So, this might be a bit of a longer explanation. Essentially, Miguel was a yandere for the reader before she tried to leave him. I didn't go into too much detail about that (and I may do a little sequel-prequel talking about that in more depth 👀) but he only created the room once the affair began. He always feared that the reader would find out, and created the room as a precautionary measure.

(Oh wait, actually, this explanation was pretty short and straightforward...yay!)

Sixth Question: Did Miguel ever love Layla?

Short answer, no.

He was admittedly fond of her, but only because they shared a similar responsibility. He also felt pity for her, given that she had lost everything and was forced to abandon everything she knew.

Seventh Question: What was in the vial Miguel had in the lab in chapter 5?

Contrary to popular speculation, the drug in the vial was neither meant to make the reader addicted to Miguel nor was it meant to solely act as an aphrodisiac. The drug in the vial was actually meant to increase fertility exponentially, as Miguel's intention was to get the reader pregnant and make it so that she couldn't, and wouldn't want to, leave him.

That's all the questions I could think of for now. If y'all have any more, leave them in the comments below or drop me an ask and I'll get them answered! Also remember to let me know if y'all would want a companion drabble detailing how the cheating started and the buildup to that with Miguel and the reader.

Aight, that's all from me. Thank y'all for readin'! Ari out! ✌🏾

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #cheater miguel o'hara #cheater miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099

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epochofbelief · 8 months ago

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Strictly Confidential: Chapter Six

A Modern Feysand AU

She’s a law student turned confidential informant. He’s a federal prosecutor with one goal: bringing down her boyfriend for his white collar crimes. What could go wrong?

A/N: I would like to thank "girl i've always been" by Olivia Rodrigo for helping me produce this one. Thanks for your patience and your love on the last chapter. Enjoy, and let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Also, I make no promises on the accuracy of international travel, time changes, and FBI investigations from this point forward. Welcome to the world of fanfiction, everyone--everything is subject to the machinations of my own mind. 😈

Sorry if the editing is crap. Needs must, and all that.

TW: drinking/alcohol

Strictly Confidential Masterlist

My other, completed, Feysand AU: What to Expect When You're (Not) Expecting

Chapter Six

It took Rhysand two days—two days—to get in touch with Feyre after Azriel’s attack.

“I’m going to kill you,” Feyre hissed through her teeth as she stepped onto the Illyria Station platform, the final station on the Prythian City Metro Line. Rhys’s eyebrow rose at the venom in Feyre’s voice, one large hand resting on the small of her back as he guided her away from the train and through the station, up the stairs, and into an awaiting black car.

“You realize you just threatened to murder a federal prosecutor,” Rhys noted as he tapped on the window separating them from the front seats. The driver pulled away from the curb.

“What of it?” Feyre asked. “Bare threats won't get you anywhere in court.”

“Maybe so, but if you do kill me, there are plenty of witnesses on the platform who could testify to your intent.”

“Good luck tracking them down when you’re dead,” Feyre said, holding Rhys’s gaze, his eyes twinkling in the dimness of the car.

Feyre almost smiled back at him, at the way words tripped so easily off her tongue whenever Rhys was around. But she swallowed the urge, instead rolling her eyes and slumping down in the leather seat, Rhys’s eyes tracking her every move. “Are you going to tell me if Agent Lapis is alright or not, or are you just going to press me for more information on—?”

Rhys lunged forward, his large hands covering her mouth. “No names until we get to the safe house.”

He waited for her to nod, his very large body taking up so much space as he hovered over her, the scent of salt and citrus enveloping her at his closeness.

Feyre struggled to suck down a breath, and it wasn't because Rhys was covering her mouth.

“Don’t you trust your driver?” Feyre asked when Rhys removed his hands, her body suddenly cold as he slid across the leather seat, back toward his side of the car.

“Of course I do,” Rhys said. “But we can’t be too careful. After Azriel’s attack, it’s best we take a little more care with our conversations, where we are, who sees us together.”

Feyre didn’t say anything, folding her arms over her chest.

Rhys blew out a breath. “Azriel is fine. He took a bad beating, but he’s had worse. He’ll be on his feet in another day or two, albeit with a few extra bruises.”

“And do you think it was—was—” Feyre pressed her lips together, unsure if she refrained from saying Tamlin’s name because of Rhys’s caution or because she still could barely fathom that someone she had thought she knew might sanction such violent behavior.

Rhys nodded curtly. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. We can talk then.”

The ten minutes passed quickly, Feyre mentally reviewing the information she had gathered in the past few days. She had managed to glean the location of Tamlin’s next business venture by going through his phone well past midnight the night before, slipping his phone from his nightstand and hiding away in the closet until she had found something, anything that might put a stop to everything Spring Solutions was doing.

Illyria was a pleasant enough town, if a little run down. The small main street the town car carried Feyre and Rhys down boasted a few cafes, a restaurant or two, and even a bar. Feyre caught sight of a bookstore, already closed for the evening, at the very end of the street, and something else that might have been an arts and crafts shop. She continued to observe as they left the main street and entered a series of residential neighborhoods, partly because she had never visited Illyria before, and partly because it gave her something to do in such a small space with Rhys mere inches away.

At last, the driver turned into a gated neighborhood full of quaint historical homes. The car pulled into the driveway of a red-brick home, two stories tall, with black shutters and white columns. Feyre unbuckled her seat belt as the car pulled around the back of the house, entirely out of sight of the street.

“Home sweet home,” Rhys said as Feyre rounded the car to stand next to him.

“Home?” she stammered, turning to stare up at him.

“One of them,” he said. “Once upon a time.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes as he strode up the back steps, producing a small key and unlocking the back door. He stepped back to let her enter first, and Feyre slid past him, her elbow brushing his stomach as she set foot on the dark wood floors.

Rhys followed her, flicking on a light switch, a warm glow flooding the hallway as Feyre delved further into the house.

Warm dark floors stretched down the long hallway that spanned from the back door directly to the front, the rooms of the first floor on either side of the hall. To her left was a small kitchen, with white appliances, light wood cabinets, and forest green tile backsplash. To her right was a closed door that she guessed led to a bedroom or office. Rhys ushered her toward the front of the house, gesturing to a small sitting room to their right. Across the hall from the sitting room was a small dining room. Both rooms boasted floor to ceiling, built-in shelves bursting with books and trinkets of all shapes and sizes.

Feyre settled herself onto a grey couch in the sitting room, gazing around the small space as Rhys ensured the curtains facing the street were drawn shut.

“This is your house?” Feyre asked as Rhys, satisfied with the curtains, crossed the plush red rug to the fireplace on the far wall, leaning down to start it with the push of a button. Flames danced to life in the hearth, Feyre’s brows raising at the sight. The house itself felt old, quaint. But the fixtures—the fireplace, the chandelier above them, even the appliances in the kitchen, were all quite modern.

“I grew up here,” Rhys said. “It was my mother’s house. My father didn’t want it—hasn’t been here in years—after she died. He gave it to me, told me to sell it if I wished. I thought about it for a while. It’s too far from the city for me to live in full-time. But I couldn’t stomach the thought of someone else living here. So I decided to keep it, update some of the appliances, the heating system, all that, thinking one day I would sell it for a higher price after all the improvements. But I… haven’t.”

“It’s lovely,” Feyre said.

Rhys gave a brisk grin, sitting down on the couch across from Feyre and clasping his hands between his knees. “Azriel and Mor should be down any minute.”

Feyre's brows creased, but Rhys shook his head. “Azriel’s staying here while he recuperates, and Mor arrived about an hour before us to check on him and make sure things were in order for this meeting. It's nothing... like that."

Feyre nodded, filing away the information for later.

They sat in comfortable silence while they awaited, and the creaking ceiling above Feyre told her Mor and Azriel were aware of the scheduled meeting and coming to meet them any second. Indeed, they emerged from the narrow staircase that occupied part of the central hallway, Azriel’s face several shades of black, blue, and yellow bruises.

“Gods above,” Feyre breathed, leaping to her feet and meeting Azriel halfway across the room. “Are you alright?” She asked, arms reaching toward him before she realized she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

But Azriel softly gripped her upper arms, his swollen lip breaking into a small smile. “I’m fine, Feyre. Occupational hazard.”

Feyre let Azriel lead her over to the couch after she greeted Mor, who had frozen in the hallway, gazing wide-eyed at Feyre and Azriel. At Feyre's "Hello," Mor swallowed, stepping into the living room at last.

“You were truly concerned for him,” Mor noted, taking a seat next to Rhys as Feyre forced Azriel to sit down first before she settled herself next to him.

Feyre folded her arms, glaring at Rhys. “Ask his Royal Highness the United States Attorney.”

“She threatened to kill me for making her wait this long,” Rhys admitted, eyes never leaving Feyre’s.

“Well, you’ve seen me. I’m fine,” Azriel said in that soft, but cutting, voice of his. “And I appreciate it, Feyre. I really do.”

Feyre tore her gaze from Rhys’s violet eyes and met Azriel’s hazel ones, nodding once before she strengthened her resolve.

“I know where Tamlin’s going next,” she announced.

----------------

One week later, the plans were arranged.

Cassian and Mor would board a plane for northern Washington State, hours after the private plane Lucien and Tamlin had chartered that would take them to the same place. The agents had arranged to rent a car to follow the two Spring Solutions higher-ups to the manufacturing plant that Tamlin had arranged a relationship with. Thanks to the vague map Feyre had found that first night of her sleuthing, the group had determined the estimated location of the exchange—the place Tamlin would accept responsibility for the non-compliant environmental materials. Then, the FBI Agents would trail whatever transport Tamlin had arranged until he either stored it or disposed of it. At that point, they hoped to have witnessed enough illegal activity that there would be plenty of cause to make an arrest—or at the very least to bring charges against Tamlin and Spring Solutions and end the illegal operation once and for all.

The plan made sense, despite the limited information it was based upon. The agents had planned everything to perfection. The intel Feyre had provided had allowed them to skirt the problem they had run into time and time again—because Tamlin and Lucien flew privately, under an ever-changing roster of company names other than Spring Solutions, and were careful to take nondescript vehicles to the private airport, it was difficult for the FBI to follow the duo when they jetted off to consult with their next client. But Feyre’s provision of the location had changed everything. The entire case might be resolved in less than a day.

Feyre, however, was pissed.

She had provided the information. She was the one who continued to stay with Tamlin, who still slept in his bed, in order to get this information for the FBI. And yet she hadn’t been invited to come along for the bust.

It was infuriating, and the worst kind of insult. She had spent the better part of an hour arguing with Rhys, Mor, and Azriel about it as they had discussed the information in Rhysand’s mother’s home that night a week ago.

It all came down to protocol, however, and civilians weren’t to be pulled into such dangerous surveillance activities if it was avoidable. And unfortunately, Feyre was a mole and nothing more. Cassian and Mor were the FBI agents, and they would be taking the lead in the investigation. Not even Rhysand was going.

Feyre lay on her couch, her casebooks unopened on the coffee table next to her as she stared at the clock on her phone. She was at least trusted enough to be told what time Cassian and Mor’s plane would be taking off—2:27 p.m.

Feyre rolled her eyes. What an honor.

The clock turned to 2:28, and she knew they were gone.

Feyre sighed, rolling off the couch and laying on the floor for a minute. Then two. Then three.

If they didn’t catch Tamlin—what then? How much longer would she need to stay here?

Feyre knew she could change her mind at any point. The FBI, and Rhysand, wouldn’t blame her. But what then? How could she live with herself knowing she had taken away the FBI’s only viable opportunity to bring down Spring Solutions?

No, Feyre didn’t have a choice. She was in this until Tamlin discovered her treachery or he was behind bars.

Eventually, Feyre peeled herself off the floor and padded through the empty apartment toward her closet.

Sure, it was 2:28 pm on a Friday, but Feyre didn’t have plans for the rest of the day.

Or the rest of the weekend.

So why not jump into her pajamas and read for her Corporations Law class until her eyes ceased focusing properly?

Feyre snorted at herself as she flicked on the light in the closet. Here she was, an informant for the FBI, a job that sounded so glamorous, so important, so mysterious.

And yet it was mid-afternoon on a Friday and Feyre was already shedding her bra for the day.

What was her life?

She sighed as she crossed to the enormous dresser against one of the walls of the closet. She shoved aside the suit jacket Tamlin had worn that morning, hastily discarded over the top of the dresser, the fabric emitting a faint crinkling sound as it hit the floor.

She had just reached into the drawer to retrieve the tattered old t-shirt and sweatpants that she slept in when she froze, slowly turning to gaze at the navy blazer, crumpled on the floor at her feet.

Because that crinkling sound. . . That wasn't just fabric.

Feyre knelt, sweatpants forgotten as she fished through the pockets of Tamlin’s jacket. A month ago, she wouldn’t have even considered doing this. Wouldn’t have been so hyperaware of everything having to do with her boyfriend, so anxious that the sound of what was probably a gum wrapper wouldn't have raised her hackles.

But a month ago, she hadn't known her boyfriend was a criminal mastermind.

Feyre drew out a small slip of paper from the inside breast pocket of the jacket.

It was a receipt.

A receipt for a set of plane tickets.

And in tiny black script across the top was the destination of those tickets, scheduled for that day, October 7th, at 10:53 a.m:

Dublin, Ireland.

Fuck.

---------

“Where the hell are you, Feyre?”

Rhysand’s voice was so loud in her phone speaker that Feyre actually held it several inches away from her ear as she responded.

“The airport…”

“You’re kidding. " Feyre heard what sounded like a door slamming in the background of the call. "You are actually calling me because you thought it would be fun to give me a heart attack as a prank, and you’re actually home right now, on your couch, watching The Nanny or whatever ridiculous show you and Mor were discussing the other night in Illyria. You’re not at the airport about to board a flight to Dublin because your boyfriend purposefully set a red herring in case anyone was on his tail.”

Feyre didn’t respond, just smiled at the woman manning the security line Feyre currently stood in, shedding her shoes with her one available hand, the other holding her phone to her ear.

“Feyre. Tell me I’m right. Tell me you’re not at the airport.”

“Can’t, sorry. Oh, hold on, gotta send my phone through the x-ray machine thing.”

Feyre ignored Rhys’s protests, placing her phone on the x-ray belt, call with Rhys still active, before she stepped into the line to go through the human scanning machine.

It was at least five minutes before she made it through the line and retrieved her stuff from the security belt. To her surprise, Rhys was still on the line when she retrieved her phone.

“Turn around right now. What are you planning to do when you get to Ireland? Find Tamlin and confront him yourself?”

“Of course not!” Feyre exclaimed, checking the departures board and smiling as she saw that her flight was right on time, although in her eagerness to get to the airport, she had arrived much too early. She had at least an hour before boarding the flight that would take her from Prythian to New York, where she would transfer to a flight to Ireland. “I just want to follow him and record everything he does.”

Except for vague background noise, and something that sounded like the rumble of traffic, the line remained quiet for several long moments.

“I swear, Feyre Archeron, if I die before I turn thirty, it’ll be because of you and this gods-damned case.”

“You’ll thank me later!” Feyre said brightly, and hung up the phone.

An hour later, Feyre had shuffled toward her gate with the rest of those boarding her flight to New York. She had spent the last hour consuming two glasses of wine at the airport bar, her productivity while reading for her Environmental Law class sharply declining as her glass emptied. Her original intention had been to stick with one small glass of wine so that she might fall asleep more easily on her flight.

But after half an hour of staring at her textbook, a sizable pit had formed deep in her stomach. Was she truly flying to Ireland for the weekend? Chasing Tamlin halfway across the world to—to what? To make up for the fact that she had fallen for the red herring Tamlin had left in his emails, had given the FBI wrong information, and sent them in the complete opposite direction of Tamlin’s true destination? She had nowhere to stay when she got to Ireland, no idea where to start on finding transport to whatever location Tamlin had arranged his rendezvous.

So Feyre had ordered another glass of wine, and downed most of it in the last ten minutes before her flight started boarding.

Thus the world had taken on a softer light, a slower quality that had loosened Feyre’s shoulders so much that she didn’t even care about the nearby toddler who had been crying for the last half hour, or the strong smell of weed emitting from the woman in front of her, or the enormous man who was standing a little too close to her, smelling of citrus and the sea and—

Feyre whirled around.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded when her eyes met violet ones, the intensity of Rhys’s gaze reminding her of her tipsiness.

“You thought I was going to let you run off to Ireland by yourself?”

Feyre bit her lip, suddenly wishing she hadn’t had that second glass of wine. Rhys was so poised, dressed in his signature black suit, pressed to perfection even after what must have been a long day at work. The shadow of a beard graced the lower half of his face, and his sea salt scent caressed her, pulling her closer. . .

Feyre blinked once. Then twice, reaching an arm out to steady herself against one of the barriers used to corral the boarding line.

Rhys's eyes narrowed. “Are you—drunk?” He asked, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice.

Feyre folded her arms. “I’m not drunk,” she insisted. “I had a two glasses of wine.”

“You can barely stand up straight,” Rhys noted, pocking her shoulder with a finger.

Feyre flashed her palms up at the prosecutor. “I’m fine, see? I was having a perfectly wonderful time until you decided to show up and crash my spontaneous trip to a foreign country.” She didn't mention the wave of relief that was sweeping through her even now, as she realized she wouldn't be leaving the country for the first time all by herself.

“Did you tell Mor and Cassian?” She asked, changing the subject, although the creeping grin on Rhys’s face told her he wouldn't let this go anytime soon.

And for some reason, Feyre didn’t mind that he found her amusing.

Tamlin would have told her she was being unprofessional, would have chastised her for doing something as unsafe as getting a little tipsy in the safety of an airport. Even though he and Lucien drank during their own travels, Tamlin would see Feyre’s unsteadiness as a weakness, something she should only do with him around.

And while Rhys was laughing at her, she didn’t feel . . . judged. Teased, yes, and perhaps a little embarrassed. But not ashamed.

Rhys gave a curt nod. “They’re staying the night in Washington and flying back tomorrow. Weather conditions are awful up there, so no planes, even private ones, are going up until the morning.”

“Will they fly over to meet us?” Feyre asked, falling into step beside Rhys as the line started moving, bringing them closer and closer to the gate.

Rhys shook his head. “If this trip is as short as Tamlin told you it would be, by the time they got to Ireland, they would have to board the plane to come back again.”

“So we’re on our own,” Feyre muttered, allowing the flight attendant to scan her boarding pass.

“We’re on our own,” Rhys echoed as they stepped onto the jetway.

------

It was a very long night. Feyre slept for most of both of their flights, occasionally waking up to turbulence or to use the restroom or eat the snacks the flight attendants provided. Every time she did, Rhys was a solid presence next to her, wide awake and reading through various legal documents on his laptop, his privacy screen preventing her from glimpsing much. If he slept at all, Feyre never saw it.

When they touched down in Dublin, Feyre jolted awake, something soft against her temple. She looked up, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she met Rhys’s stare.

“Sleep well?” Rhys asked, shifting in his seat, the movement jostling her.

She reared back, tearing her forehead from where it had been resting on Rhys’s shoulder. “Yes, I—I did,” she said, sure her cheeks were burning bright red. She had slept on his shoulder. Had probably drooled all over him while he read his professional legal documents and thought of her as a very silly, very impulsive young law student. “Sorry,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

But Rhys only shrugged, folding up his laptop and sliding it into the backpack beneath the seat in front of him. “No need to apologize. I’m positive my shoulder is much more comfortable than the window.”

Feyre huffed out a breath, a grin tugging at her cheek as she thought about just how muscular Rhys's shoulder was—if it was more comfortable than the window, it was only by a margin.

“What time is it?” She asked.

“Dublin time?” Rhys looked at his watch, Feyre’s eyes tracking the flick of his wrist. “About seven am. . . Prythian time? Two am. What time did you say Tamlin’s meeting was?”

“Not until this afternoon—two or three.”

“Plenty of time to find a hotel, then, because someone decided to come all the way over here without a plan,” Rhys said, his fingers gripping her chin lightly for a fleeting moment, his lips pursing as he gazed down at her.

“Come on, Night,” Feyre said, following him from their seats and out into the aisle. “Live a little.”

Feyre regretted those words two hours later, after the only hotel with a vacancy they could find had one room available--with only one bed.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything else? We’ll even take a bed and a pull-out couch,” Feyre pleaded with the receptionist, who was so busy staring as Rhysand that Feyre doubted the woman even heard her question.

“What was it you said to me on the plane, Feyre darling?” Rhys asked, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye, his fingers tapping on the front desk. “Live a little?”

Feyre groaned, exhaustion tugging at her limbs, at her very soul, despite the sleep she had managed to find on the plane. “Fine.” She snatched the keys out of Rhys’s hand and stomped over to the elevator, arms crossed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Rhys offered as Feyre led the way down the hall, her suitcase rattling behind her.

“That’s ridiculous,” Feyre said. “It’s a king bed. Plenty of space.”

What was she saying? No amount of bed space would be enough if she was sharing it with Rhys. He was so . . . all-consuming. Feyre could feel him behind her even now, though she knew he was several feet away.

She unlocked their room, Rhys’s arm sliding above her head to hold the door so she could drag her suitcase inside.

"Thank you," she said quietly, swallowing at the gesture.

Neither of them spoke as they took turns in the bathroom, each taking a quick shower to rinse off the travel. Feyre let Rhys go first, insisting that she had to call her father anyway. But instead of calling, she sat on her side of the bed and thought about what Tamlin would say if he knew she was sharing a hotel room with another man.

Even if her relationship with Tamlin had an expiration date, even if it was over in Feyre’s mind . . . It wasn’t over in Tamlin’s.

Sharing a bed with Rhys, sleeping on his shoulder, flirting with him . . . It was one of the worst betrayals, no matter what Tamlin had or had not done. She knew her boyfriend would be livid if he knew about what she was doing with Rhys. Even if nothing had happened between them, even if Feyre wasn’t sure she felt anything more than sexual attraction for the federal prosecutor who had suddenly turned her entire life upside down... It was wrong.

Even if being with Rhys brought out a side to her that had long been dormant. She spent all of her time with Tamlin and Lucien these days.

How long had it been since she had joked with a new friend? Spent time with someone who shared her interests, her career path? Done something just because she wanted to?

She had booked an international flight without a second thought, for crying out loud.

She had never done something like that before.

And Rhys had followed. With some grumbling, yes, but he hadn’t tried to drag her out of the airport or convince her to change her mind.

And perhaps he cared more about indicting Tamlin than he did about Feyre’s safety, but . . . Feyre couldn’t shake the feeling that Rhys understood just how badly she wanted to see Tamlin pay for his actions. That he understood the guilt that clawed at her in the middle of the night, the guilt that told her she should have seen it, should have recognized that there was something fishy about Tamlin’s business, should have done something long ago to stop it, something that might have prevented what Rhys’s sister had endured…

Feyre was startled out of her spiraling thoughts by the sound of the bathroom door swinging open, Rhysand emerging in nothing but black sweats, his hair still damp from the shower.

Feyre’s mouth went dry.

“I, ah, left my shirt out here,” Rhys offered, crossing the room to his suitcase, every muscle on display.

Feyre bit her lip at the sight of his cheeks, which had turned every-so-slightly pink, before she averted her gaze.

She didn’t say anything, simply grabbing her stuff and shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Tamlin would certainly object to the sight of a shirtless Rhysand.

Feyre took a very, very cold shower.

---

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