#something something that theory about how your brain energy can be wasted on taking a million of tiny decions to the point where you are
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purplecelestial-buddy · 2 months ago
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After unknowingly becoming the leader of every freaking group I've had to work in (and let me tell you, my major is all about group work) I've concluded that being told what to do must be x100 times easier than doing your own part + being in charge of telling other's what to do (since this entails being fair and analyzing each team mates capabilities)
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airyspirit · 7 days ago
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It’s 5:27am, I have been awake for over an hour. I have indeed been complacent. Told myself I must stop falling asleep on this little loveseat and either make my bed and sleep in it or sleep on the cot downstairs to spend time with the boys. But the loveseat is convenient and out of habit I plunk myself down and reach for my phone and start scrolling. But there’s nothing new to read, I get the gist. There’s certainly no good news. It’s a doomscrolling time suck. I try to imagine myself finishing painting the house, or at least about 2/3rds of it. I have the supplies and the know how, though not the experience. I’m decent at troubleshooting. The problem is I feel demoralized and doubtful, I perceive myself as working too slowly, I don’t have much youthful energy, I fear that even if I try my best and meet my goal it won’t have any effect on you and I will be forced to concede that I have completely wasted half a decade of my life while you left me in the dust and stole my Story, which I believed was our love song. I also don’t know the extent of what you have been up to for the last three years and am afraid I would feel too betrayed to be able to forgive you if I found out. Then again it could be more benign than I fear. I don’t know and neither of us can know unless you show up here. I have to think it’s better to try and be together, and it’s better to know the truth (but I want to learn the truth from you directly, not try to piece it together from examining your sm for clues), and if we’re not able to make it work at least we’d know, we could arrive at an understanding. Hope prolonged like this is torturous. It’s being starved to death over years.
But, I try to understand what the heck is going on for you internally because it does seem that despite outward appearances, I have found the real you and you’re a traumatized little boy who loves me and wants to be with me.
Back to the idea of the mental diet. I still have *almost* two weeks before Thanksgiving. I can get the painting done as well as many other important house and yard projects along the way. You can likewise commit to doing your inner work. That can be with BM directly, or utilizing her prerecorded videos, or frankly you can manage it entirely on your own just by meditating by yourself. Enneagram theory advocates for meditation as the main path to self awareness, which naturally leads the ego to fall away. Unfortunately because my virtue is action, I don’t think meditation is likely to be helpful for me: it glides right into my passion for sloth, and instead of becoming self aware I zone out and fall asleep to myself, often literally. But it’s okay because I know taking the right sequence of actions *is* my solution. We both know what we want (to be together, right?) and what we each need to do to make that happen. I see myself falling into certain pitfalls that frequently involve my brain (or maybe my subconscious?) responding to my self doubt by sedating me. That is tricky. I just get very tired and often my body temp goes down and I have to put on layers and crank up the heat like a little old lady and then that makes me even more sleepy. And I think it’s just a self-sabotage mechanism that kicks in when I go up against my psychological block(s).
Hmm.
Mental diet is key. And, I have to find ways to limit my screen time on my phone and forbid myself from laying or even sitting down on this couch. The downstairs cot or the bed. I can sit in a chair in the kitchen, use my laptop to look things up on the internet if needed, or even sit/lay on the hard floor. I do have this issue with trying to keep myself physically cozy and comfortable because I feel like I don’t have anything else. What I want though, is for you and I to have a week (at least) where we are together and looking to one another as a primary source of affection, attention, love. I do believe you want and need that and that it’s something you’ve never really had. That foster kid thing again. In a sense, you’re Oliver Twist. I guess I would be your well off relative who is eager to adopt you, give you a secure home and family. But you still have to help yourself to approach me.
6:04am. I am still laying curled up on the damn love seat. I am sleepy and want to close my eyes again. But I must try. I will get up and put my phone away to charge and then if I feel too tired to do anything I will go downstairs to the cot or maybe put a blanket on the hardwood floor and rest on that for an hour.
I can get my bullet journal out at sunrise and ask my Te Boss to make a practical pre-noon To Do list with actionable steps that I can have the satisfaction of checking off as I go. I hope you likewise consider journaling for twenty minutes this morning to let your own Ti Boss articulate his thoughts.
Oof. I don’t feel very hopeful at all in this moment. But I will rest (probably on a blanket on the floor) and then start small, and try to build momentum.
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fenheart87 · 3 years ago
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Flowerful Language
KuraHi fluff... Subtle flower language to show affection, the idea was based off three things: white rose meaning young love and loyalty and two roses together meaning feelings returned.
Kurama was distracted from his studies by gentle fingers combing through his hair. Being touched by the owner of said hand wasn’t something new, just the context and type of touch. The redhead had not recently injured himself on his cranium nor anywhere else. Despite his brain being puzzled, his body remained curiously relaxed as he sat leaning against his bed and that was all the more puzzling. When had the smaller demon moved to his bed?
“Hiei?”
“Hn?”
“Is there something in my hair?” Kurama joked, not yet pulling away to look at the fire demon and break the soothing and gentle touch.
“You always have something in your hair fox.” The almost soft amused quality coloring the words had the taller moving away to glance at the speaker. Red irises were partially concealed by heavy lids, an arm tucked underneath his head as support. Hiei was completely at ease laying in his bed and Kurama suddenly couldn’t remember how to breathe.
“I supposed yes… Was there something you needed?”
“Hn, still wasting all those years of knowledge I see.” With huff and slight curl to his lips that the kitsune was certainly not distracted by, the shorter demon rose stood. Lifting his arms in a stretch before donning his cloak, boots and sword. “I do have an appointment to keep Fox, hopefully the storm will keep at bay while I’m gone.”
“If not, you know my window is always open for you.” He had abandoned his reading and carelessly shut the book without saving the page, the move seemed to bring amusement to other occupant once more.
“If only there were something more convenient that was open to me.” Opening the window Hiei hopped onto the sill, pausing for a moment and casting a long searching look into curious green eyes. “Perhaps one day when the kudzu is finally worn out its welcome there will be a hidden entrance elsewhere.”
Kurama sat alone in his room, the strange conversation and actions turning within his mind and the answer just out of reach. Collecting himself and shifting everything to the side for a moment, the human side of his brain was pushed to the back. If Hiei’s comments about his age and the kudzu vines were any indication he needed to think like a demon, like Youko. Hiei has referenced his life as the King of Thieves, knowledge gained during his reign would be mostly stealing something. Convenience could be a number of things, again leading to stealing something or maybe something else. The fire demon's mention of kudzu was interesting. If Kurama recalled correctly it was an invasive group of vines that strangled the plant flora and trees around it. The breeze distracted his attempt at puzzling out his partner's confusing actions, rising from the floor he crossed to the open window to close it. Luckily he noticed the small pouch before crushing it.
"Bad habit of leaving gifts without warning, some things never change." Kurama moved the pouch and closed the window completely, moving to his desk to inspect the contents. Inside there was a note and two seeds, their aura marking them as different species. Curiosity completely peaked and all other thoughts brushed aside as the redhead determined they were from Ningenkai and thus safe to pour a bit of his energy into to unfold the mystery of what the blooms would look like. The first grew until a bloom unfurled, black in color and with several smaller blooms in the middle. Thin tendrils sprouted from the middle as well fading from the black color to a white near the ends. Tacca chantrieri or the more common name, the black bat plant.
As intrigued as he was, Kurama set the plant aside in a spare pot and turned to the other seed. With one more burst of energy but more gentle the seed grew into a familiar shape. Glancing between the newly grown rose sporting stripes of cream and purple and the black plant, something was nagging at the back of his mind. Hiei was rather straightforward and blunt with most things, the only exception being… His feelings, oh. The rose was indeed beautiful but the knowledge behind the message made it breathtaking.
"I wonder if there's room in the garden out back."
---
Kurama knew it would take a time before his rather thoughtful partner would appear again and so he waited patiently, keeping a close eye on his newest additions and their welfare. Sooner than expected the ever elusive fire demon returned, occupying his window once more.
"I trust you didn't have to suffer the rain and that's why I haven't seen you in so long?"
"Hn." Not talkative but not opposed to idle chatter and maybe he could squeeze a couple of answers from the surly visitor.
"Well if you need a reprieve and some rest, I won't need my bed for the day." The redhead kept a playful tone, same as always while watching those crimson eyes scan his room to look for changes. They alighted upon the recent pot that had its home on the corner of his desk that housed a certain small but healthy black plant. Meeting the shorter demon's gaze head on, Kurama noticed it was guarded and calculating. A point in his favor to cement his theory. "The tacca chantrieri, I must say, is not the most common gift one would give. I've been wondering why you, of all people, would give me a black bat plant."
"I'm not wasting my breath. Is your mother due home soon?" Small deflection but the thoughts behind his eyes were still not very clear.
"No, she's out for a while yet. Feel free to use the bath and I can make you something to eat or heal as needed. Nothing has changed Hiei."
"At least I haven't outworn my welcome." Kurama felt it had been the wrong thing to say before the fire demon disappeared from his room. He needed to know if the gesture had the deeper meaning the older demon longed for but was unsure how to coax the truth from Hiei. Letting all the thoughts roam free from the last couple weeks, the plant wielder plucked a seed and bloomed his new favorite flower.
"If only you would be blunt this time…" A memory of his mother receiving a bouquet of roses from his step father came forth, there was a misunderstanding. Shiori was always overjoyed to receive flowers but one bouquet had made her concerned. It was a beautiful array of red, white and pink mixed but the number is what Kurama remembered concerning her. There had been fifteen instead of twelve for a solid dozen and what she had said back then had stayed with him until that moment when he finally understood.
"All colors have different meanings but when it comes to roses the number can be more important. Fifteen means 'I'm sorry’ so I thought you were apologizing for something."
After that he had spent his time with various books and recalling old information from his time before his human life to understand something his mother loved. With barely a thought, he reached a hand and grabbed a lesser used seed from his hair and helped it bloom with a burst of energy. The white bloom was pure in color and when laid across the other rose made a striking pair.
"Kurama, I found some-" The redhead turned his body slightly while still being seated in his chair. Hiei was staring intently at the pair of roses on his desk before his fire gaze met his calm and collected gaze. "Feeling sentimental fox?"
"I wouldn't say that, more like soulful."
With a snort the slightly shorter demon crossed the room and distracted Kurama from wondering when his friend had a growth spurt by pressing their lips together. Humming in contentment, he let Hiei break the surprisingly soft kiss with a grin.
"White really?"
"With all my soul." Another snort but this time there was no kiss, just a fond tug on his forelock and a small amused quirk of lips that made Kurama promise himself that wouldn’t be the only kiss between them.
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not-delicious-milk · 4 years ago
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So i was randomly scrolling through as you do lol and saw your timeline on the mindmap and how you said that Yuuji is a suitable vessel because Sukuna's blood might have become strong enough, do you think it could also be a case of genetics and Yuuji being a practically identical match genetically to Sukuna hence why he is a suitable vessel?
Also with the theory going around about Brain bring Yuuji's "Mother" do you think that is where his memory manipulation technique could possibly come from and why Brain is so interested?
wow this is gonna suck bc it’s on my phone but let’s go
i think that whatever relationship sukuna and yuuji have left some amout of genetic material in his body. i’m not sure if it’s directly that he’s his descendant — gege has stated that sukuna had no children, though of course he could just be trolling — but i think of what the brain said in shibuya about how the body and soul are the same. i think that part of the reason why yuuji can house sukuna without harm coming to his body AND suppress his soul is because they share some genetic material or otherwise have some overlap concerning their bodies. maybe yuuji is his reincarnation, or had genetic material implanted in him in utero, or is distantly related to sukuna through other means. or maybe he’s just sukuna’s direct descendant. whatever it ends up being, i think that something is definitely going on. it would be much easier for yuuji to merge with sukuna, as gojo stated they had in chapter 2, if they already shared genetic material, blood or some other physical congruence.
it was stated by gojo that the appearance of sukuna’s vessel was part of the “wave of power” in the new generation, and later during the spv arc it was revealed that gojo’s birth was the catalyst for this, that it forced curses to evolve and become more powerful, including dormant cursed energy in potential sorcerers. what if sukuna’s blood relation or whatever it is to the itadori family was distant and weak enough that they still weren’t suitable vessels? they don’t seem to be sorcerers, although pappy wasuke gives off the air of knowing at least something about sorcery, but they bear a striking resemblance to sukuna from what we’ve seen. and yuuji was born after gojo. maybe because of that wave of power, sukuna’s dormant influence was strong enough to make him a suitable vessel — probably having to do less with genetic material since that’s not quite how genetics work, but indirect influence on his cursed energy and body development. idk if that makes any sense but basically the little itty bit of sukuna that was in yuuji was enough, after gojo’s birth and the forced evolution of curses, to actually influence yuuji beyond physical resemblance to sukuna and cause him to be ridiculously strong and capable as a vessel.
so think of recessive genes as an example. through generations and generations of “carriers” it might never manifest, but given the right catalyst — an environmental stressor, reproducing with another carrier and getting the recessive gene from both parents, et cetera — it can suddenly show up almost out of nowhere. real life examples range from brown eyed parents having a blue eyed child to serious genetic disorders and illnesses.
now imagine, if you will, that that recessive gene suddenly became a dominant one because of, oh i don’t know, a certain blue eyed baby being born and shifting the equilibrium of the world.
imagine if a child like that is about to be born, or potentially about to be born, but there are complications with the mother and she dies. if you were an incredibly patient body hopping sorcerer with a vested interest in seeing that child born, what would you do?
the brain states that they altered peoples’ brains with idle transfiguration to make them suitable vessels for cursed objects, at the end of the shibuya arc. the relationship between the brain and cursed energy is an in-universe enigma, but it seems like changing the structure of the brain can forcefully awaken a technique or make someone able to handle a cursed object. yuuji most likely is not an experiment in this sense — creating sukuna’s vessel is a rather ambitious first attempt, and the brain didn’t have access to mahito’s cursed technique when yuuji was born, so they didn’t have a reliable and precise way to alter people’s brains to change their relationship with cursed energy. it’s possible that the brain STUDIED yuuji to determine what, exactly, made him a suitable vessel in order to be able to replicate it, but that would require already knowing that he would be a suitable vessel. either yuuji was an incredibly risky and ambitious experiment from birth, intended to be a vessel for sukuna, or the brain had some reason to know for a fact that he was one. such as being related to him.
jogo asks after yuuji’s first death whether it was “worth wasting a precious finger to determine the strength of sukuna’s vessel”. that suggests the brain was double checking to make sure yuuji could house sukuna freely and without limiting his power, since it resulted in sukuna taking over to fight the cursed spirit. this wasn’t to check if yuuji could handle consuming more fingers. the brain seems to be very sure he can.
with the cursed wombs, the brain states that sukuna’s fingers are an exception when it comes to cursed objects — that they are powerful enough to influence their surroundings even when sealed in the form of dormant fingers, and that they can choose their vessel. other sentient cursed objects, such as the death paintings, can reside in any vessel, albeit completely taking over their hosts. there is no relation between the objects and their vessels in this case, and the cursed objects can exercise their full power at the cost of taking over the host’s consciousness.
it’s possible that the brain wanted to make sure that being suppressed by a suitable vessel still allowed for a curse to use its full power, i.e sukuna, but that’s just me theorizing.
in terms of the memory manipulation thing, gege has stated that it’s not a technique and that the causes were different for todo and choso’s cases. i’m not inclined to fully believe him because again he could just be lying his ass off to distract from the very real similarities between the cases. i’ve seen some interesting theories concerning it, such as that it’s a technique that uses positive cursed energy, that it’s a defense mechanism, that it has to do with the soul like mahito’s technique, et cetera. i don’t think it’s why the brain is interested in him — that most likely has to do with his status as sukuna’s vessel. i find it suspicious that the brain knows so much about his body and how it will react to sukuna (for example telling the disaster curses that should yuuji eat one finger a day up to 20, he would most likely retain control, but if fed 10 fingers at once he would temporarily be overwhelmed) AND how it seems that they already knew he was sukuna’s vessel even before he consumed the finger — someone else said this in the notes of my other post, don’t remember who, but when discussing with the disaster curses after yuuji’s first “death” it seemed like he’d been part of their plans for a while and that they knew he was sukuna’s vessel before anyone else did. but! the memory shit is very suspicious and i am looking very hard at gege for an explanation.
gosh this got long. i will probably cross post this on twitter because i kind of popped off. anyway yeah
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bakugotrashpanda · 4 years ago
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For a Good Time, Call
Dabi x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2724
!!: 18+, oral, hooking up, alcohol
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Should you call the number you find? Probably not.
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The cool tiles on the wall are a welcomed relief after being stuck in a crowded bar for over an hour. Your friends had dragged you downtown for some local band, and as fun as it is, it’s also exhausting. The only thing separating you from the noise is the bathroom door covered in stickers and graffiti.
It swings open and someone walks in. You check your appearance in the mirror, feigning grooming for just a moment longer in solitude. Figuring that the person doesn’t want an audience while they do their business, you mentally prepare yourself to head back out into the fray.
Just as you’re about to leave, a number scrawled on the wall in silver sharpie catches your eye. For a good time, call xxxxxxxxxx. That isn’t unusual. What is unusual is the reviews other people left of the mystery person. Total tease. Sends dick pics. 4/10 Rude af. The last one made you snort. There’s nothing like getting a text from someone you don’t know when you least expect it to put you in a standoffish mood. Snapping a picture, you open the door and are met with a wave of music. 
“What took you so long?” Jiro asks when you come back. You can barely hear her over the band so you show her a picture of the number. Jiro raises her eyebrows.
“You going to do it?” Jiro shouts. You shrug, but a hint of a smile creeps on your lips. Did you want to do it? Why not? Worst outcome is the person is ‘rude af’. Best outcome is… What would the best outcome be? Hook up? Friend? Something else completely? Best outcome would be not rude.
“How would I approach it?” you lean closer and ask, “Like what if the person turns out to not be my type?”
“Block the number then,” Jiro suggests.
You stew on that for the rest of the evening. Even watching the band and trying to smile and nod along, it’s still in the back of your mind. Did you dare take the risk and text the tease who sends dick pics and is rated four out of ten for being rude?
There’s a small thrill that shoots through your body at the thought of messaging the stranger. Every time you type a message and hover over the send button, your heart does somersaults. 
It’s only at 2 AM when you’re back in your apartment and fueled by liquor that you send a message. 
 Y/N: I was told to call this number for a good time
You stare at your phone and wonder if anyone will respond. The nervous energy of anticipation electrocutes your body, zinging from your toes to your brain and back.
Unknown: What kind of good time are you looking for?
Holy shit. Still have to play this cool. Don’t want to look desperate… Who am I kidding, it’s two in the morning. I already look desperate.
Y/N: What are you offering?
Unknown: Whatever you want
Fuck does he really have to make this hard? 
Y/N: What do I call you?
Unknown: Call me Dabi. but don’t waste my time.
Y/N: It’s two in the morning and you’re texting me back.
Dabi: Touché 
Y/N: Y/N. idk what i’m looking for
Dabi: when you figure out what you want, you know where to find me
 The next morning, you sit in your Critical Theories and Practices course, staring into space. What did you want… For starters, a class not at 8:30 in the morning.
“Uh, hello?” Jiro says, breaking your concentration, “You there?”
“Huh? Yeah,” you say and clear the spot next to you. Jiro plops her notebook down before easing into the chair. Eyeliner smudges under her eye blend with the dark circles from a lack of sleep. You know you look just as rough.
“Coffee?” you ask and push a cup towards her.
“You had time to stop for that?” she laughs but inhales the earthy aroma deeply.
“Not really, but it was either this or sleep in class,” you joke and take a sip of your own drink.
“So,” Jiro raises an eyebrow at you, “Did you do it?”
“Do what?” you respond innocently.
“You know what,” Jiro raps your knuckles lightly with a pencil, “Text the number.”
“I texted him, his name’s Dabi, but that’s all I know,” you lean back in your chair and remember how you spent the early hours of the morning. “Tried to look him up and couldn’t find anything.”
“Wow, you’re actually bothered by this.” Jiro says. Of course you’re bothered, and of course your best friend would pick up on it.
“It’s the thrill, okay? I get a rush every time I text him,” you say defensively and straighten up as the professor walks in, “I don’t know who he is or what he does, or even where he lives!”
“So ask him,” she shrugs and starts taking notes. If it was that simple, you would have done that already. Is it really the electric rush you feel when you text him, or is it something more?
 -
Two in the morning seems to be your go to time for making questionable decisions. The message you typed waits, ready to be sent. 
  Y/N: I know what I want
Would he be up this late again? The phone screen darkens as you wait for a response. Maybe this is a mistake.
Dabi: ?
Y/N: I want to meet you.
He doesn’t reply right away, and the longer you wait, the more anxious you become. What if he didn’t want to meet you? What if he was disappointed when he saw you?
Dabi: why
Y/N: humor me
  After a little back and forth, you end up setting up a meeting at the bar where you found his number. A nice public space where you could let people know where you’d be. 
--
“What can I get ya?” the heavily tattooed bartender asks.
“Surprise me,” you say and look around the bar. You showed up early to scope out the area. Nerves also refused to let you be late.
“Looking for someone?” the bartender asks and sets a drink in front of you. Maybe he knows Dabi and can point him out for you when he gets here. But it’s also none of his business what you’re doing.
“I’m supposed to meet someone here, but I got here a bit early. It’s our first-time meeting in person,” you say nervously. 
“Tinder date?” he asks, a knowing smirk on his face. 
“Sure,” you say, heat creeping up your face. You didn’t want to tell him that it was just some guy whose number you got from a bathroom wall. 
It’s a weeknight, and the bar is unusually quiet, especially for a college town. There’s maybe five other people in the whole place, and other than the bartender, there’s one waitress flitting around.
“Is it always this empty during the week?” you ask the bartender. Anything to get your mind off meeting Dabi.
“Depends. Finals week is usually slammed, but on average there’s more people in here,” the bartender drawls, “I’ve seen you here once or twice before.”
“Yeah, my roommate knew the band that played here a couple days ago. I came so she wouldn’t be alone.” Jiro was too proud to beg you to go, but you knew that if you didn’t, she wasn’t going to.
One drink turned into two, then three, then four. Still, no one approached you at the bar, but your conversation with the bartender helped pass the time. You told Dabi where you were sitting, and now he was an hour late. Jackass probably stood you up. 
“Can I get you anything else?” the bartender asks as he cleans the bar for the umpteenth time. You shake your head.
“How much do I owe?” you ask, trying to keep the sadness from your voice.
“Leaving already?”
“Yeah, he didn’t show, might as well salvage what’s left of the night,” you joke humorlessly. Digging through your wallet, you pull out a credit card. Your phone buzzes and you have half a mind to ignore it, but if it’s Dabi, you want to know what his excuse is.
  Dabi: or maybe i’ve been in front of you the whole time
   Confused, you look around the bar. Couples deep in conversation in hidden corners are too lost in each other to pay any attention to you. The people sitting on their own are lost in their minds and their drinks. The only person looking at you is-
“Dabi?” you ask the bartender hesitantly. He smirks and runs a hand through his black hair with red roots peeking through.
“Guilty,” he purrs. All your emotions sucker punch you at once and send you spiraling through the five stages of grief. There’s no way this man is Dabi. If he was, you would have seen it. But you also knew nothing about Dabi. How could you be so stupid and ask to meet a stranger without learning anything about them? For all you know, he could have been a serial killer and you would’ve been his next victim. Next time you meet someone, you’ll have to be more careful. If this is Dabi, he’s been watching you the whole night. He knows more about you than you do about him. What if he doesn’t like what he’s seen?
Bright turquoise eyes watch you process the information. All in all, you’re sure of two things; the bartender you’ve been chatting with all night is in fact Dabi, and Dabi is hot as fuck. He’s the type of guy your parents tried to get you to stay away from.
“You knew,” you accuse, “I’ve been sitting here for over an hour and you knew I was waiting.”
“Nothing personal, doll,” Dabi shrugs and sets another drink in front of you, “but I like to see the people that want to hook up with me.”
“Do you sleep with everyone who calls you?” you grumble. 
“No, only the cute ones,” he smirks. Your smile falls and suddenly you feel… gross, as if all the interactions with him were now tainted. You did have every intention of sleeping with him, but now… “It’s a joke, relax. Usually I send dick pics for fun, and when they want to meet up, I bring them here to see what they’re like before showing myself.”
“And you get to see what they’re really like,” you catch on. 
“Bingo.” He looks like the cat that got the cream. You take a good look at him this time, now that you know this is the man you’ve been waiting for. Tattoos reach up the pale skin of his neck towards his face, but barely crest over his jawline. A skull surrounded by flames at the jugular notch, where neck meets clavicle spreads beneath his fitted, black shirt. You assume it connects to his sleeve tattoos. Flames peeking out from under his shirt sleeves give way to smoke and clouds. A scaled creature wraps around his biceps and curls down his arms. Smoke turns into crashing waves which meet his wrists. 
Piercings in Dabi’s eyebrow and nose catch the faint light of the bar and reflect back at you. He is a tease, just like what the bathroom said.
“So, what do you make of me?” you ask. 
“You’re not as crazy as the others,” Dabi says bluntly. 
“Gee, thanks,” you roll your eyes. 
“So you must be wild in the bedroom.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “My shift is over in two hours.”
“I’ll be waiting,” you say. There’s no point in waiting here for him though. You’ll meet him outside. Standing, you gesture to the drinks, “Those are on you. See you outside when you’re done. 
The door isn’t even closed before Dabi has you pressed against the wall. Rough lips press hungrily against yours. It’s a bruising kiss that leaves you breathless and your heart pounding. Fingers fumble with pants and shirts as clothes and self-control are thrown to the side. Dabi wastes no time in sinking to his knees, one of your legs hooked over his shoulder. 
Your fingers glide through his hair and urge him closer to where you want him. He resists your pull and teases your entrance with his tongue. Warm metal is sturdy against soft flesh. Fuck, he’s got more piercings.
“You’re a fucking tease!” you gasp. In response, Dabi holds your gaze and flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue. He slides a finger inside and strokes your walls. You grind against his mouth and chase your pleasure, but when you feel the tingling sensation grow, he pulls away. A domineering kiss steals away your complaint, and you can taste your juices on his lips.
“To the couch,” he growls in your ear.
Dabi sits on the couch like a king on a throne, his cock standing ramrod straight. More piercings catch your attention. The thought of him stretching you out has you all but drooling. Straddling him, you sink down on his cock. He lets out a hiss as your nails dig into his shoulders. When you’re finally seated, you set a fast pace. You were so close before, and you’re not about to let your orgasm slip through your fingers.
Dabi’s lips fasten to your neck, leaving dark marks littered on your skin.
“I want everyone to know,” he growls in your ear and thrusts up against you. The sudden movement has you gasping as he hits deep inside you. “As long as you have these marks, you’re mine.”
Without warning, Dabi flips you onto your back. Strong arms push your knees towards your chest as far as they’ll go. Dabi pounds into you and all you can do is sit there and take it while the coil of pleasure tightened in your abdomen.
“D-Dabi,” you sputter breathlessly, “I’m-”
“Come for me,” Dabi groans. The rapid pace begins to slip and you know he’s close too. Relaxing hit tense muscles, the coil snaps and you’re seeing stars. You’re vaguely aware of someone crying out, it must be you?
Dabi grunts and slams into you one final time. Warmth blooms inside you, and in between your cunt clenching around Dabi post-orgasm, you can feel his cock twitch inside you.
The reality of what you did sets in as you come down from your high. You went home with a stranger and fucked him. And I enjoyed every second of it. But where do you go from here? Is it a one-time, quick fuck? Could it become a reliable booty call?
“Stop thinking,” Dabi chuckles as he gets up from the couch. He stretches and you marvel at his body while also feeling the need to cover up. “I can see the wheels in your head turning.”
“I should go,” you say after a lengthy pause.
“You could,” Dabi shrugs and saunters towards a closed door, “Or you could stay. There’s always the bedroom to explore.” You bite your lip and contemplate what you want.
“I should stay,” you say and walk over. Pulling Dabi into a passionate kiss, you bite his lower lip and tug it. Releasing it, you lean in and whisper, “As long as these marks are on me, you are mine.”
A fire burns in Dabi’s eyes and he tugs you into the bedroom.
--
When you wake up in the morning, you’re startled by the unfamiliar surroundings before the night comes crashing back in your mind. Dabi. The other half of the bed is empty, but your clothes are in a heap by the bedroom door. There’s a note on top in scrawling handwriting that reads: If you’re ever looking for a good time, you know where to find me.
--
“Why are we back here?” Jiro asks as you lead her to an empty table at the bar.
“That band with the bassist you think is cute is playing tonight,” you say. Pulling a silver sharpie out of your jacket pocket, you head to the bathroom. Turquoise eyes follow you, and you wink to Dabi as you disappear inside. Finding his phone number on the wall, you add your own rating to the mix. ‘I’d bounce on that dick all night if I could.’
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happyandticklish · 4 years ago
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Sensitive Connections - Part One
Notes: Based off a conversation I had with @tickles-tea and some others about the intermingling of voodoo magic into the drrr universe, and thus this was born. It ended up a tad longer than I expected, as I got vaguely carried away with exposition. 
Summary: Shinra comes into possession of an exciting new artifact that he’s eager to show his friend.
Shinra was practically vibrating with excitement when he met Izaya at the door, quickly flinging it open before sprinting back to the earlier room without so much as a word of greeting to the other. Izaya blinked, hand still raised where it had previously rested against the door in the imitation of a knock.
“Hello to you too,” he said, narrowing his eyes with vague irritation. “And such a warm welcome…”
Shinra popped his head back into the hall, seeming surprised that Izaya had not already followed him. “You got my call, then?”
“If by call, you mean the voicemail I received in the middle of the night calling me over here for some ‘strange new phenomenon you discovered, urgent’, then yes, I received it,” Izaya said, hanging his coat by the door and kicking off his shoes. “This couldn’t have waited till morning?”
Shinra wrinkled his eyebrows, giving his friend a strange look. “Well, I mean, it could have. I honestly didn’t think you would come right away. I didn’t imagine you would be this invested.”
Izaya bristled at the implication, but before he could say anything in argument, Shinra had moved back to the living room. Izaya sighed, following after him reluctantly.
Shinra stood triumphantly before the table in the center of the room, whereupon lied a simple doll. It appeared to be made of felt, almost like that of a stuffed animal, and was entirely featureless save two black buttons sowed where its eyes would be. Stitches crisscrossed its body, giving it a disjointed looking appearance. It sat utterly splayed out on the center of the table, its single occupant.
Izaya glanced between Shinra and the doll a couple times, attempting to decipher what he was looking at. “You called me here, in the middle of the night, for a… doll? A toy?”
“It’s not a toy,” Shinra countered, waving one hand at the notion. “This doll is actually one of the most powerful artifacts in this entire household.”
Izaya raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”
Shinra sighed, rolling his head back as he searched for a way to explain it. “How much do you know about the ancient art of witchcraft and the occult?”
Izaya had come across the concepts many times over the years, though he’d never devoted that much interest to them as he considered them the wild fantasies of fools. Admittedly, meeting Celty had certainly bought the ideas more validity, but each and every time he tried to look into it, he found himself unable to take the ideas seriously.
“Not much,” he admitted honestly, picking up the doll and examining it. It had a deceptively innocent appearance, that, knowing Shinra, was sure to be disproven soon. “Is this a talisman of some sort?”
“How do you know what a talisman is but not a voodoo doll?”
“Is that what this is?”
“Yep.” Shinra peered over Izaya’s shoulder, smiling affectionately down at the doll like a proud parent would. “Pretty cool, huh?”
Voodoo. That made sense. Izaya was vaguely familiar with the concept, mostly from pop culture and casual references of it over the years. Now that he was looking closer at the doll, he wasn’t sure how he had failed to pick up on it earlier. Leave it to Shinra to find something like this.
“And how exactly did you come into possession of it?” Izaya asked, glancing back at the other.
“Well, I’m not sure how much of that I could safely confess, but I can tell you that I received it from a good friend.”
“A good friend?” Izaya racked his brain, trying to think of the people Shinra was in association with. Celty, of course, and Shizuo, but he doubted the brute would have managed to acquire something like that. Celty maybe, but it was unlikely that she would care for such things. For some reason it irked him that there might be someone else Shinra was close friends with, close enough for a favor of this size.
“Of sorts,” Shinra agreed. He noticed the look in Izaya’s eyes, smirking suddenly. “Why? Are you jealous?”
“Of course not,” Izaya sniffed, tossing the doll back on the table. He whirled around, falling into onto the couch absently. “So how does this thing work exactly?”
An excited glimmer entered Shinra’s eyes, the likes of which Izaya had encountered many times over the years. It meant that the info broker would not be leaving the flat for quite some time. “I’m glad you asked. We’re still trying to work out the theory of it. Based off the myth, sensations placed upon the doll will be reciprocated on the owner, without any physical marks. For instance, if you pricked it with a pin, there would be no evidence on the owner of any kind of damage, but they would feel it as if it had poked them all the same.”
“The owner,” Izaya mused, leaning his head back. A vague hint of devilish interest entered his tone. “So are you the owner then? I think I would quite enjoy stabbing needles into you after all you’ve done to me.”
“Done to you?” Shinra scoffed incredulously, rolling his eyes at the other. “What have I ever done to you?”
“The time I was stabbed and you just—” Izaya started, but Shinra quickly cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“Okay, okay, point taken! I guess you could say we’ve both done some pretty horrendous things to one another.” Shinra sighed, taking a seat besides him. “The answer is no, by the way, to your question. I considered it, in the beginning, but Celty quickly vetoed it. She insisted it would be too dangerous, especially considering we don’t know if there are any harmful effects of it yet.”
“So it’s blank right now?” Izaya confirmed, throwing a suspicious glance back over at the doll. Its empty face gazed back at him, devoid of sympathy. He felt an unmistakable shudder make its way down his spine.
Shinra nodded, oblivious to Izaya’s inner conflict. “It could just be considered a normal doll in its current state. You’d have to actually connect it to a person for it to activate into anything.”
Izaya couldn’t tear his gaze away from the doll. There was something captivating about the concept that held his curiosity like a moth to a flame. He wanted—no, needed—to know more about it. Even as he grew more invested in the subject, however, he felt strangely reluctant to let the other in on his interest.
“Say you were to attach it to a person,” Izaya said slowly, trying to force as much nonchalance into his tone as possible as he spoke. “How would one go about that process?”
For the next half hour Shinra spoke excitedly, laying out details and charts and theorems before the other, entirely unaware of how closely Izaya was listening. Eventually, Shinra had to excuse himself to go grab something from his lab for demonstration. He bounded down the stairs, leaving Izaya utterly alone in the apartment.
He couldn’t explain what called him to do it. Only that before he knew what was happening, Izaya had snatched the doll from the table, racing over to the door where his coat remained hanging. He quickly pulled it on, shoving the doll inside its folds and out of eyesight. He was just shoving on his shoes when Shinra returned, holding a small object in his hands with wires sticking out of. Heaven only knew what it was meant to be, and Izaya certainly didn’t have time to find out.
Shinra tilted his head in confusion when he saw him, frowning. “Izaya? Where are you going?”
“I just figured it was getting late, you know,” Izaya explained breezily, quickly brushing the issue aside as he tugged on his final shoe. “I have quite the busy life, you know; wouldn’t want to disappoint any of the many people waiting for me.”
“You mean your online friends?” Shinra asked wryly as Izaya opened the door, waltzing merrily out of it.
“Try not to be jealous, my dear Shinra—it doesn’t look good on you.”
Shinra shook his head as the door closed on him, smiling indulgently.
 The clock ticked slowly on the wall. Three in the morning. Izaya spun slowly around in his desk chair, hands steepled under his chin. He glanced back at the doll. Two emotionless buttons stared back at him. He spun himself around once more, kicking off on his desk. The room whirled around as his thoughts did the same.
The drive home had held a strange energy to it, a mixture of excitement, nerves, and growing interest in the doll shoved inside his jacket. For once he was silenced, a blessing that the taxi driver escorting him was highly grateful for.
The walk to the door had been silent as well, a calm, practiced walk that spoke nothing of the ancient mythos hidden on his person. With every step up the stairs of his apartment, he could feel its weight. It was only once he finally set it upon his desk and was faced with the blank doll once more, a harmless toy, nothing more, that he began to feel maybe he was overreacting over the whole situation.
He pressed his foot to his desk, catching himself on his final spin. “I suppose there would be no harm in trying,” he mused at last to the empty room; Namie had taken the evening off for some unnamed activity she refused to reveal, so he had the place to himself for the night. “After all, the worst that can happen is I discover it truly is a simple doll after all and this whole evening has been a waste of my time.”
Reaching up, he pinched a stand of hair between his fingers, tugging firmly. He winced at the momentary pain, rubbing his scalp.
Shinra had explained the process of connecting the doll to an owner thoroughly, at Izaya’s bored request. There were a couple different methods one could try, but the simplest one would be to connect a piece of the chosen owner to the doll in one fashion or another. Izaya wrapped the hair carefully about the doll’s arm so as not to break it, tying it into a gentle but resolute knot.
Feeling a tad silly about the whole situation, he pressed his thumb to the doll’s forehead, tracing down to its chest and finally stomach, reciting as he did so, “I name you—Izaya Orihara.”
Afterwards, he removed his thumb, placing the doll once more on the table, and waited. For a while, nothing happened. No strike of lightning or crash of thunder, no cupboards rattling with sinister intent. Outside he could hear cars honking and racing past each other as people shrieked in joyous conversation. Nothing out of the ordinary for the bustling city. His body felt entirely his own, the only things he could feel being the leather of his chair and the slight stinging of his head from earlier.
Izaya sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised,” he said wryly, reaching out for the doll. “After all, what did I expect coming to Shinra for—”
He sentence broke off halfway in shock. Where his fingers had brushed against the doll, Izaya had felt a bolt of mirrored sensation run up his arm, sending pleasant shudders down his back. He jerked back with a start, narrowing his eyes. His fingers were curled hesitantly in midair from where they had retreated. After a moment, he reached out once more, stroking a finger down its arm. Again, sensation crawled unbidden up his skin and he instinctively shook his arm to rid himself of it, though the action did nothing to alleviate the feeling.
Izaya’s eyes widened. “Incredible,” he murmured softly, fascination lighting up his features. Quickly, he opened one of the many drawers in his desk, retrieving a pen. He held it up, carefully poking the doll up its leg. He winced as he felt the minor pain reflected in his own body, his leg tensing up with each stab.
A sudden shriek of a whistle interrupted his thoughts and he nearly fell out of his chair, his heart slamming about a mile a minute in his chest. The kettle. Of course. He had completely forgotten he had set it on. He quickly stood up, leaving the doll and the pen discarded upon the table as he sprinted to retrieve the screaming pot.
Removed to the kitchen now, he entirely missed the sound of the door opening and the disgruntled voice of Shizuo calling out, “Hello?”
Upon receiving no answer, Shizuo sighed, slowly clicking the door shut behing him and collapsing against it in exhaustion. The rounds that night had seemed to go on forever, and almost every client had decided that day of all days to pick a fight for reasons entirely unknown to the tired man. Tom had offered to let him go early, but Shizuo hadn’t wanted to leave the other alone. So he had stayed. And now it was three in the morning and all he wanted to do was sleep.
He dropped his stuff by the door, wearily making his way over to the living area where Izaya usually spent most of his time. He glanced around, but the info broker was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he found a bland doll thrown haphazardly on his desk in his place.
Shizuo raised an eyebrow. Knowing Izaya, it almost definitely wasn’t as harmless as it seemed. “Izaya? You there?”
Izaya paused midway through the process of pouring the kettle, his heart stuttering a little in his chest at the sound of the voice. He had almost forgotten Shizuo had promised to stay the night with the other amongst the chaos of everything Shinra had shown him.
“Late, are you?” he called out in response. “I was starting to think you had run off with Tom instead.”
Shizuo huffed a laugh, taking a seat in the leather-bound chair. “And what if I had?”
“Then I would burn to the ground everything you loved until you returned,” Izaya replied blithely.
“Mm, that’ll be unfortunate for you then. Deciding to experiment in self-arson, Iza?”
Izaya chose to ignore the heat creeping up his neck at the nickname. He poured the remains of the water into the pot, hopping upon the counter as he waited for the mixture to steep. “Flattery will get you nowhere, my dear brute.”
Shizuo smiled fondly, the exhaustion receding slightly as he fell into the ease of conversation. He turned his attention back towards the doll on the desk, wondering at its hidden purpose. There was no way in hell it was just some toy. He picked up it slowly, holding it up to his face as he turned it left and right in examination.
Sitting on the counter, Izaya’s mouth fell open in a surprised O as he felt a warmth clutch his body tightly, the comforting presence of a human body when there was nothing there. At first he was taken over by the sudden panic that maybe he had truly gone insane after all these years, when he remembered the doll sitting on his desk.
Shit.
Izaya slid off the counter with the intention of intervening, but before he could a sudden poke at his stomach made him jump, his mouth clamping down on a strangled yelp. Just as soon as he’d begun to regain his bearings from the first attack, there was another poke, this one angled down more towards his hips and sides. Izaya’s nerves flared up in anticipation, and he squeaked, falling quickly back against the counter, holding on with one hand for support.
Shizuo, meanwhile, had no idea of the effect he was having on the other. He innocently poked the doll as he searched for some kind of switch or button to activate whatever the toy’s true purpose was. He traced his fingers over the stitches lined haphazardly over the doll, scratching curiously at a cluster of them gathered at Izaya’s hip.
Izaya’s knees crumpled at the fluttery sensation, his face breaking out into a helpless grin. “S-Shizuo!” he stammered, sliding down to the ground. “Wait!”
“What is it?” Shizuo asked, momentarily stopping his attempts. “Wait for what?”
Izaya warily regained his footing, worried all the while for a sudden attack. “Nothing,” he responded, making his way out of the kitchen, tea entirely forgotten. He flashed him a disarming smile, hoping for a distraction. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Izaya—”
“Ah, I see you’ve discovered my secret,” Izaya interrupted, nodding towards the doll. “I found it on the road this morning and figured it belonged to one of the various Ikebukuro brats. I was just going to go out and try to return it.”
“You were…what?” Shizuo asked, genuine confusion wrinkling his brow. “You were going to return it?”
“Yes,” Izaya snapped impatiently, moving forward to try and snatch the doll out of the other’s hands. “So if you could just—”
“Since when have you cared about children?” Shizuo demanded, jerking the doll back and out of his reach.
“I’ve decided to branch out in my hobbies, now will you just—ah!” Izaya’s arm shot back where it had been reaching for the doll, coming down to snap against his side. When Shizuo had moved the doll back, his thumb had curled into its sides accidentally, shooting sparks of sensation throughout Izaya’s core. It was still there, still digging in, and fuck, Izaya was going to kill him.
Shizuo narrowed his eyes at the other. Izaya was strangely doubled over on his desk, but instead of a grimace of pain, his lips were turned up into a wobbly grin. Experimentally, he moved his thumb again and Izaya twitched, the softest of noises leaving his mouth.
“Izaya,” Shizuo said slowly, rubbing his thumb over that same spot on the doll’s side as he talked. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”
“I-It’s a v—hmm!—ah, that is, a voodoo doll,” Izaya stuttered, his arms coming down to wrap around his sides though he knew it would do nothing to prevent the sensation. “Shinra g-gahave it to me.”
“Gave?”
“Or rather I stole it from him—don’t!” Izaya squeaked as Shizuo scratched a finger over the doll’s hip again with a disappointed frown. The subtle tickling was insistent against the area, and Izaya found himself at a loss for what to do. No matter how he attempted to rub the spot, the feeling wouldn’t go away. Giggles, of all things, fell unbidden from lips. “S-Shizuo—”
“So, let me see if I have my story straight. You stole this from Shinra, a voodoo doll, a dangerous artifact, brought it into our home, and connected it to yourself? Why would you do that?”
“I wahahas t-testing ihit—” Izaya tried to explain, his sentence breaking off into more stuttered laughter. Of all the outcomes for the doll’s potential effects on him, this was certainly the least expected. He hadn’t anticipated Shizuo to take advantage of the artifact’s power so blatantly. Once again, the other had outwitted Izaya’s expectation.
Usually, this annoyed Izaya. However, as he fought against invisible sensations dancing merrily along his hips, the helplessness of his position beginning to set in, he found that he was almost… excited. Panic, irritation, delight… all of it mixed together into a confusing concoction inside him, and he struggled to find a way to understand just what it was he was feeling. He was finding it difficult to concentrate, with Shizuo now intentionally scratching his nails against the doll’s hips, running his touch featherlight along the other’s bikini line.
Izaya gasped, crumbling instantly to the ground as his laughter rose several octaves. “N-Nohoho, nohoho, nahahat thehehere y-yohohou—fuhuhuhuck!” His insult was lost between expletives and squeaked giggles.
Shizuo watched this display in amazement. Despite the very obvious effects it was having on Izaya, he still found it difficult to believe that it had worked. Voodoo. Genuine magic. He wasn’t surprised to have found it in the info broker’s possession—he was constantly discovering strange and unusual artifacts scattered about their apartment. Still… he couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed with this particular find.
Shizuo couldn’t help but agree that it was the perfect oppurtunity for revenge. For the past week Izaya had been taking advantage of Shizuo’s inability to defend himself against this particular method. Sneaking up behind him and squeezing his sides when he wasn’t expecting it, Izaya would quickly render the man useless on the floor before he could muster enough strength to fight back.
Now, however, the tables had been reversed. He smirked as he held the doll securely in one hand, dragging sweeping touches along his hips with his thumb, the index of his other hand setting to work scratching gently around the place where his ears and neck connected.
There was something so oddly intimate about that casual touch, the slow, gentleness of the gestures, that somehow served to make the whole situation a lot worse. Izaya felt his face warming for reasons entirely outside the tickling.
Curled up on the ground, Izaya was taken over by fits of breathless giggles, unable to continue any kind of rapport. His fingers curled around the folds of his shirt, twitching and gripping it tighter as he forced himself to somehow deal with the devastatingly light tickling. If he would only move off that one spot, for even a moment—
“Can you imagine if I possessed something like this back in our heyday?” Shizuo mused, pretending like the other wasn’t dying on the ground before him. “I would have ruined you with this. What do you think all those top dollar yakuza would think if they saw you like this?”
Izaya dearly did not want to have to think about it. The mere thought of the Awakusu-Kai, or one very specific member at that, discovering a weakness such as this sent a chill down his spine. Luckily for him, holding any thought in his brain was becoming very difficult due to his current predicament, so he didn’t have to dwell on it for too long.
It was when Shizuo’s fingers curled just below the doll’s hips however, that delicate area where torso met thighs, that Izaya began to truly get desperate. “Shizuo please, no, don’t, c’mon, not that—”
“Are you… begging?” Shizuo repeated incredulously, startled delight ringing through his words. “Is the great Izaya Orihara begging?”
Izaya’s mouth snapped shut and irritation flooded through him at the trap of his own making. There was no way to get out of this without shattering his dignity through genuine begging, yet at the same time there would be no dignity left to salvage if Shizuo pursued that spot. In the end he settled on fuming silence, neither a confirmation nor a denial.
Shizuo examined him for a moment, clearly debating the risk versus reward in his head. In the end, he shrugged, holding the doll limply in his hand and thusly removing the threat. “Alright. You win. If you can’t handle it, then I’ll stop.”
Izaya eyed him suspiciously, doubt flickering among his features. “I’m impressed Shizu-chan—that was almost believable.”
“Hey, take my word for it or don’t, but I promise I’m done.” He held the doll out as a peace offering, its limbs splayed out invitingly in his hand.
Izaya narrowed his eyes. He waited several moments for the other to do something, but Shizuo merely appeared bored, his arm growing tired from its outstretched position. Against his better judgement, Izaya slowly stood up, walking over and reaching for the doll.
“Thank you. I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses—ahAHAHA SHIHIT!”
Izaya let out a veritable squawk of laughter as Shizuo jerked the doll back suddenly, curling his fingers into the death spot. Izaya’s legs buckled underneath him as he cackled, and he stumbled forward, falling into Shizuo. Luckily, the other managed to catch him just in time, letting go of the doll and placing it quickly on the table.
Izaya wheezed, the disorientating feeling of the sudden sensation and its abrupt removal leaving him reeling. He blinked wearily, only to find his face inches away from the other. He decided to blame the pink tinge to his cheeks on the laughter.
“Hello,” Shizuo greeted, grinning.
“You are atrocious, you know that? A despicable human being.”
“Hey, save it for tonight.” Shizuo leaned in, softly kissing him in a manner that made Izaya’s bones melt inside of him. When he finally pulled away he found Izaya glaring at him, though it wasn’t very convincing.
“You cannot simply kiss me and expect everything to go back to normal.” He stiffened when Shizuo pressed his lips to his neck in a manner that was altogether far too distracting. “This is not going to work.”
“Mm.”
“I am—” Izaya broke off, struggling to remember how words worked—“still very angry with you.”
“You talk too much.”
Izaya frowned in dismay down at the other, before eventually relenting with an exhausted sigh. He pulled Shizuo’s face up to his, kissing him properly this time. “You are truly insufferable,” Izaya murmured against his mouth.
“And you are tremendously annoying,” Shizuo agreed. It was as close as they got to saying the simple phrase, three words that would make all of this seem too real for safety. So instead they stuck to petty insults, each understanding their hidden meanings.
The doll lay discarded on the desk, but by no means forgotten. In several days, a disgruntled scientist would discover the missing doll and a long-suffering info broker would face the consequences of the phone call that would follow. But until then, the two were content to let the night go on without them as they sat curled together in the slightly spinning chair, their bodies saying what their mouth could not.
Izaya decided that maybe the night hadn’t been a total waste, after all. 
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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years ago
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Truth (Todoroki x Reader)
Pairing: Todoroki x Reader
Genre: Crack, fluff
Summary: By some dumb luck, Todoroki’s drank some truth serum, and it’s the only way anyone finally hears what’s on his mind aka my excuse for making Todo act like an incorrect meme
Word count: 1,802
Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​
a/n: I’m back on my Todoroki BS.  Only because I had no other ideas and I was babysitting most of the day so I had to pick something that I can passively write without any intense feelings.  And because Todo deserves some crack.  Not terribly proud of it, but it was a good idea in my head so, here ya go.
"It was a mistake!  Honestly!" Hatsume cries, backed against the wall at the group of students confronting her.
"Well, YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO FIX IT!" Bakugou yells, the most ticked off of all of them, sparks popping in his palms.
"How could you do something so irresponsible?  What were you even doing with something like that?"  Iida reprimands the girl, chopping the air as usual.
I was planning on asking Hastume for some adjustments on my hero costume, but instead I'm standing in the doorway watching a confrontation.  In addition to the two boys, Uraraka and Midoriya stand behind them, slightly flustered but still cross.  Yaoyorozu stands with them, arms crossed over her chest in disappointment.
"Uh...?"  All of their heads snap towards me.  "What's...going on, guys?"
Before anyone has a chance to respond, Bakugou bellows, "THIS IDIOT MADE ICYHOT INTO A RUDE EMO BASTARD!"
Huh?  I blink and turn to the three standing aside for a better explanation while Iida continues reprimanding the support girl for her wrongdoings.
Yaoyorozu rubs the bridge of her nose.  "Hastume-san made a truth serum for some reason and left it in a cup of tea, which he drank."
"I thought he would've liked it to cheer him up," Uraraka twiddles her finger nervously, "He seemed more stoic and quiet than usual today.  Deku and I came for some upgrades and we saw it on the table."
"Hastume-san said I could have it, but we figured Todoroki would've liked it instead," Midoriya whines out.  "It's all my fault, I did this."
"You had no way of knowing, Midoriya, don't beat yourself up," I assure the poor boy and I quirk an eyebrow.  "But, if Hastume said you could have it, and there was a truth serum inside it, then what was she trying to...?"  I slowly turn to the girl in question.
At my train of logic, Bakugou growls and steps closer to her.  "YOU BETTER START TALKING, PINK HAIR!"
Her face becomes flustered.  "I just needed to ask him a few questions, that's all!"
"You should be ashamed of coercing your schoolmates for information like that!  That's way beyond unethical!" Iida chimes in, truly the class representative.
"Guys, why she did it is a whole side issue, the bigger thing is that she makes something to fix it," I cross my arms in front of my chest and give her a harsh stare.
Hastume waves her arms around.  "I promise it's only temporary!  It should wear off by itself in an hour or less!"
"If you're wrong, I won't have any qualms about the two of us roughing you up," I crack one of my knuckles and she nods frantically.  I turn to Bakugou.  "Wait, so what do you mean Todoroki's a 'rude, emo bastard'?"
.
"I think it's unhealthy for you to be eating all those sweets, but it's part of your quirk, so I guess you can't help it."
Frankly, Sato doesn't know how to react to that.  The confused guy was just coming out of his dorm with freshly baked cakes ready to share with his classmates when Todoroki, quite literally, violated his quirk with such a stoic expression.
"Okay, I understand the rude part," I whisper to Midoriya, covering my hand with my mouth.
"Just wait, it gets worse."
Mineta casually walks down the hall towards the two boys and waves, "What's up guys-"
Todoroki looks down at the little purple boy.  "I'd love to file a restraining order against you on behalf of every girl in this school, it's a good thing you're not pansexual or else I would've done it myself."
Mineta's jaw drops to the floor.  "I- Where-"
Kaminari laughs from behind, patting the boy's back.  "Todoroki got you good, Mineta!"
Todoroki sighs.  "I don't know how to sugarcoat this, Kaminari, but I'm afraid that being around you might make me lose brain cells.  Sero should probably tape your mouth shut.  At least then he would be a more notable classmate."
My jaw drops to the ground and I shrink back a little behind the corner so they can't see us.  "Oh...my...god."  Half of me doesn't want to go out there for fear of what he might say to me.
Kirishima eases up to the sharp-tongued boy.  "Hey, hey, where's this coming from, dude?  We're your friends."
His mismatched eyes downcast.  "Unfortunately, I was never taught how to be friendly because I was isolated for most of my childhood.  Not to mention my father isn't the most personable or kind either."
The hallways falls silent.  What is anyone supposed to say in that situation?
"I'm going to bed.  At least in sleep, I can feel a percentage of the sweet relief of death," Todoroki casually turns on his heels and walks off.
"Holy shit, it's worse than I thought," I mutter.  I've always wondered what's inside the usually quiet and proper boy's head, but this is something else.
"OI, ICYHOT!"
"For fuck's sake, Bakugou, you couldn't have just left him alone?!" I whisper-yell at his sheer stupidity.
Todoroki turns around to face the spiky-haired hothead.  "Yes, Pomeranian?"
Bakugou growls at the insult.  "I'm still not finished with you from earlier!"
There's still the same cold expression on his face.  "What more do you want?  Do you want me to say that if I wasn't hesitant to use my left side at the Sport Festival, I would've been the 1st place winner?"
The ash blond pops sparks from his hands.  "You wanna test that theory out right now?!"
Todoroki puts his hands in his pockets, still keeping his cool.  "I'd rather not waste my energy ruining this building to appease someone with a deeply rooted inferiority complex."
"You better shut up before I smash your face in!"  He bends his legs into position, about to spring.
"And I'd still be considered better looking than you."
I come out from behind the wall to calm the situation down before it escalates anymore.  "Alright, that's enough."  I glare at Bakugou.  "You didn't need to egg him on, stupid, you just made it worse for yourself."  I brace myself and turn around.  "Todoroki, just-"
"I like you."
The rest of my words catch in my throat.  Huh?  I had to look up to make sure he was looking at me.
His heterochromatic gaze fixes on me.  "You can be just as aggressive as Bakugou at times, and it's frustrating how you have so much potential to be a great hero with such a strong quirk, not to mention that you can be such a mess during practice."  He steps towards me so we're standing arm's length away.  "But you're charming and sweet as well.  Just seeing you smiling makes me feel warm on the inside.  Sometime's it's the only thing I need to see in the morning to make my day better.  And I can look into your eyes..."  He trails off suddenly.
My heart's already pounding and I can feel the heat from my blush reach my ears.  When he stops, I finally let out a breath.  I thought I was going to die if he continued.
Todoroki's expression morphs into slight confusion before his eyes widen and he looks around at all the slack-jaws and smirks around us.  A blush as intensely red as his left side colors his entire face and neck.  When his gaze finally rounds back to me, he nearly bursts into flames and slaps a hand over his mouth.  "Pardon me," he murmurs before retreating to his room.
I'm dizzy enough that I could faint, from both embarrassment and joy that the guy I like has feelings for me too.  My legs are about to give out until Midoriya holds me up.  "I guess...the serum's...worn off now," I let out shakily.
"Are you okay?"  The freckled boy looks concerned trying to balance me back onto my feet.
I nod, my thoughts a little scrambled, but I still need to address the rest of the students.  "So, uh, Todoroki was under a truth serum, which is why this all happened.  Just thought I'd let you guys know."  I lean over Midoriya's ear.  "Can you take care of the rest?"  The weightlessness in my stomach tells me I should go knock on a certain someone's door and talk to them.
The boy nods and I stumble over to Todoroki's door, leaving Iida's signature class rep voice to deal with damage control.  I take a deep breath to calm my rattled nerves as I stand there.  I'd say we're friends by association, since we both talk to Midoriya, but we've never really been alone to talk before.  Somehow, I'd developed a crush on him, but I'd never really planned on confessing.
I gather my wits and knock gently.  "Todoroki?  It's me."
There's rustling of clothes very close to the door, which means he was probably sitting behind it, before the boy opens it a crack.  He clears his throat, "Yes?"
It's cute how he's trying to sound like everything's normal.  "Can I come in?  I'd like to talk."
Without another word, he opens the door fully to let me in, closing it behind me.  He doesn't meet my eyes, trying to hide his face behind a closed fist.  The image of this normally cool guy falling apart embarrassed is priceless.  "I'm...sorry...I embarrassed you.  And I wasn't very kind to everyone else either.  My behavior was completely out of line, and I'd like to take back everything-"
"You want to take back what you said about me, too?"
His face turns even more crimson.  "If it makes you uncomfortable..."
"It doesn't, actually."
The boy finally looks at me, childish shock clear in his eyes.  It makes me want to hug him and not let go.  "Really?"
I nod, "I'm just a little upset that you cut off where you did."  I close the distance between us and tug the fabric on his sleeve.  "What did you want to say about my eyes?"
It seems I might have asked too much of him.  He's the complete opposite of how he was 2 minutes ago, but that's what makes this more genuine to me.  "I...was going to say...I can look into your eyes...all day."  And he finally does so.  "Because they hold the entire soul of the person I'd like to get to know."
My heart flutters at the cliche but sweet line and throw my arms around him.  "Was that so hard to say?" I tease.
"Somewhat..."
I rest my head on his shoulder.  "I like you too, Todoroki."  The words coming out of my mouth feels almost like a liberation.  And when his stiff figure finally loosens up to envelop me too, I smile.  "You know, you're gonna have to apologize to everyone formally tomorrow."
His body becomes hotter.  "I know..."
1K notes · View notes
rowanwhitethornisbae · 4 years ago
Text
Faking It Ch 3
A/N: I don't remember Aedion’s mom every being explicitly named in the series so I just kinda made up a name. I picture her as being the young cool aunt so that’s just my portrayal, not canon lmao. 
Also I'm going to reveal what happened between them in the next few chapters so send me some theories in my asks!!!
Despite Aelin's attempts to forget about Rowan, the day continued to drag on slowly. First science class, where somehow her brain managed to relate molecular compounds to Rowan's face. Then lunch, when luckily Aedion had managed to distract her with donuts for the short fifty minutes. Now she was back in the last period of the day, left to brew in her own apprehension as the on-screen lecture lapsed by and turned into silent reading. 
Rowan had agreed to drive them both to her house after school, saving Aelin from walking back in the crisp autumn weather. She’d put more energy into her appearance today than she’d like to admit. If Aelin had one thing she love about herself, it would be her style. Today she was wearing a slightly too short wrap skirt and a loose satin black button up which she tucked one side into the skirt. She had chosen to wear her platform Doc Martens, naively assuming she could handle the ankle pain. Her hair was done up in a tight bun and she pulled back her short layers from her face with gold pins. Aelin fiddled with her hoop earrings as she watched the second hand move around the clock. 
“You’ll be fine.” Lysandra whispered, her head still staring down at the book they were supposed to be silently reading. 
Aelin scooted her chair a little closer to her friend, careful not to make a squeaking noise against the marble tile. “But what if I'm not?” 
Lys didn't look up but Aelin couldn't tell she was no longer actually reading. “Then call me and we’ll get white girl wasted and watch pride and prejudice for the hundredth time.” 
Aelin laughed under her breath, images of Mr. Darcy’s hand flex flashing though her mind. “Can you blame me? I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers.” 
Lysandra shot he a conniving look. “Maybe this is your chance to experience your own enemies to lovers?” 
Aelin scoffed a little too loudly and someone behind them glared. “It would be more like friends who slept together to lovers to enemies to awkwardly fake dating to lovers.” 
Lysandra stifled her laugh and went back to reading. Aelin was glad that she had someone to talk to about whatever the fuck she and Rowan were about to do. Saying she hadn't thought several times about putting the breaks on this whole thing would just be a futile lie. Rowan resented her, he’d made that much clear over their very brief and clipped conversations. A part of Aelin was holding onto a hope that today they’d be able to work some shit out at least. If not, she was in for an incredibly uncomfortable few months. If they even lasted that long. 
Unable to focus, Aelin began doodling on the front of her binder. She was about to run out of space when the bell signalling the end of school rang at last. Aelin swung her bag onto her shoulder and grabbed Lys’ hand, pulling them both out of the classroom. 
“Holy fuck you are so pale.” Lysandra exclaimed. 
Aelin released her and offered a small apologetic smile. “I feel like I might throw up.” There was a moment of awkward silence before Aelin spoke again. “Will you walk to his car with me?” 
Lysandra grinned at her. “Duh! What are best friends for?” 
Normally Aelin would've hugged her but she was too focused on not emptying the contents of her stomach on the school floor. Lysandra was going on about something trivial in her attempts to distract Aelin when she spotted him. 
He was leaning against his car talking to Lorcan and Fenrys. Or more, Fenrys was talking and the other two were listening. Aelin approached him carefully, Lys an ever steady presence on her left. 
“Hey.” She said softly. Fenrys’ talking ceased and all three massive males turned towards her. They all seemed to bear matching expressions; disdain. Despite Lorcan’s body language suggesting indifference, his eyes held a hatred Aelin had rarely seen before. 
She swallowed nervously and bumped Lysandra lightly. Lys, thank god, received the message and smiled widely. 
“I’m Lysandra.” She said, her voice filled with fake sweetness. 
“We know.” Lorcan grumbled at the same time that Fenrys said “Nice to meet you.” 
They both then shot each other matching looks and fell silent. “I’m fine guys.” Rowan said at last, his first time speaking thus far. He had yet to look straight at Aelin. “I’ll come over after.” 
They nodded reluctantly and walked away, Lorcan fighting back a laugh at something Fen said. 
Aelin pulled Lysandra into a long hug. “Call me if you need anything.” Lys whispered in her ear. Then they pulled away and her friend was gone, leaving Aelin and Rowan alone. 
“Hi.” She said again. 
He only nodded at her and walked around to the drivers seat of his car. She groaned internally, already dreading the next few hours.
The car ride to Aedion’s house, where Aelin had been living for two years, was deadly silent. It wasn't really awkward, just the type of tension that you were too scared to break in fear of a storm. 
When they finally pulled into the driveway, Aelin unbuckled her seatbelt and was halfway to the door before Rowan even got out. She unlocked the door with a spare key and walked into the house. Aedion and his mom, Althea, lived in a small semi a few miles from the high school. Upon Aelin’s parents sudden death, the spare room had been shifted into Aelin’s room and Althea had taken her in with a warm heart. 
“Althea I'm home.” She called out into the house. 
A voice came from the kitchen. “I made some sandwiches.” 
Despite herself, Aelin smiled at the prospect of food. Without turning around, she led Rowan through the small hallway and into the kitchen.
Her aunt was sitting at the island, munching on celery and dip when they walked in. Upon recognizing Rowan, she dropped her food, mouth agape. 
“Althea,” Aelin spoke through her teeth. “You remember Rowan. We’re going to study for a bit.” She silently begged her aunt not to question it. 
Ever so slowly, her aunt nodded. “Of course. It’s nice to see you again Rowan.” 
Aelin swiped the plate of sandwiches off of the table and handed them to Rowan. “Take these to my room. I’ll be up in a minute please.” 
He nodded and turned on his heels quickly, clearly desperate to get out of this room. Once Aelin was sure he was out of earshot, she turned back to the kitchen. 
“Oh my god.” Her aunt whisper shouted. “Is that the same Rowan who’s dick I walked in on you sucking.” 
Aelin cringed at the reminder. She selectively tried to forget about that very awkward encounter that had traumatized all involved parties for several weeks.
“Yes.” Was all Aelin could manage to say. 
“The same Rowan who’s heart you shattered on my front lawn while me and Aedion watched from the upstairs window.” 
Aelin began tapping her foot. “Still mad at you for that.” 
Her aunt wasn't deterred. “The same Rowan -” 
Aelin put up a hand to stop her. “From now on how about we just assume it’s all the same Rowan. It’s probably wise considering I only know one.” 
Althea let out a small laugh at that and shooed Aelin out of the kitchen. She walked up the stairs slowly, her steps unhurried on the wearing carpet. Upon arrival at her room, she found Rowan hovering over her desk. He was looking at the pictures she had framed, none of which included him. There had been a time, when nearly every single one those pictures had been him and Aelin together. In the heat of the moment, she’d smashed them all on the ground, glass shattering on her wood floor. She’d immediately regretted it, but the damage was done. Over the months since, she’d gradually replaced the photos with new ones. Her and Lysandra smiling from pool chairs. Her and Aedion drunk and laughing at something Aelin could no longer remember. There was one on the far left of her and Chaol at junior prom that Aelin had forgotten to remove. She looked beautiful that night, with a stunning pale blue dress that shimmered in the moonlight outside the venue. Chaol had looked handsome too, but he wasn't who Aelin had really wanted to be there with. 
It was that photo which Rowan was now staring at, his back to her. Leaning against the door frame, Aelin cleared her throat. Rowan whirled around, his face red as if he’d just been caught in the midst of something illegal. 
“I was just - uh...” He ran a hand through his silver hair in a way familiar to Aelin. 
“It’s fine.” She said, waving her hand dismissively. 
They both took up positions on opposite sides of the bed, Aelin at the head and Rowan at the foot. He crossed and uncrossed his legs a few times before deciding at last to lie on his stomach, legs hanging off her bed. 
“This is awkward.” He said, surprising Aelin enough that she fumbled with the sandwich in her hand before regaining control. 
“Yep.” She nodded, and took a bite to refrain from having to answer. 
He shook his head as if he wanted to say more and pulled out a notepad from his bag. “Let’s make rules and a contract.” 
Finished chewing, Aelin halted to gape at him. “Are you seriously going to make me sign a legally binding contract or some shit. Rules make everything less fun.” 
Rowan didn't meet her eye when he spoke again. “I’ve learned not to trust your word.” 
A blush crept over Aelin’s cheeks and she ignored the sudden pain in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, to say what, she didn't know, when Rowan interrupted. 
“Besides, this isn't about fun. It’s a mutually benefitting deal.” His voice was dead serious but Aelin couldn't help but scoff. 
“You’ve always been good at making fun things sound like physics homework.” 
“And you’ve always been good at taking nothing seriously and thinking only of yourself.” He looked dead at her when he spoke, his features stone cold. 
Aelin froze up and placed her half eaten sandwich back on the plate. “You’re being mean.” 
A smirk crossed his lips, although she read no real amusement there. “My apologies, your highness.” 
“Fine.” Aelin said, turning away from him to blink back a few barely there tears. “Let’s make rules then.” 
-------------------------
Rowan was being a dick. He knew that. And yet somehow, every time he opened his mouth something mean and condescending came out. Clearly, he wasn't as over Aelin Galathynius as he’s convinced himself to be. Sitting on her bed after school, scrawling notes in a notebook and eating sandwiches brought back memories he’d honestly rather forget. Maybe it had been her Aunt’s reaction to seeing him, or the picture of Chaol on the dresser, but all Rowan knew was that somewhere between the threshold and here, he’d turned into a douchebag. 
Currently, Aelin was rummaging through her desk drawer for a pen. She returned a moment later and handed it to him, careful to avoiding their hands touching. 
“Fake Dating Contract”
Rowan scrawled a title messily at the top of the page, trying to ignore Aelin’s eyes on him. 
“So what’s number one?” He asked out loud. 
She tucked a few loose blond strands of hair behind her ear and bit her lip in the way she always did when she was thinking. Unable to watch the familiar motions anymore, Rowan turned back to his paper. 
“Tell no-one.” He suggested dryly. 
“I already told Lysandra,” she admitted guiltily, “and I’ll have to tell Aedion as well.” 
He had already been expecting that response. “That’s fine. I wanted to tell Lorcan and Fenrys anyway.” 
She nodded in his peripheral vision. “But no one else. If this gets out I'll be the laughing stock of the school.” 
“Of course princess. How dare I endanger your precious reputation? Need I remind you that this was your idea.” His tone was mocking, even as his brain scolded him for the cruel words. 
Aelin blanched and shot him a glare. “Don't act like you don't need this either. I’m getting you what you always wanted.” 
 “How are you even planning on doing that anyway?” 
She wouldn't lie to him about this. Would she?
Then it crossed his mind, he had no fucking clue what she would do. There had been a time when he thought he knew every thought that Aelin had. But then she’d broken his heart and altered his view on people forever. His distrust was both justified and entirely her fault. 
“You won't like it.” Aelin said softly. 
“I don't really care how you do it.” It was a lie. Despite his disdain for her, he didn't want her methods to be anything that put her in danger. 
They went silent for a moment before Rowan spoke again. “What are the limits?”
Aelin arched an eyebrow at him. “Limits.” 
“Yeah.” He sat up, suddenly feeling too uncomfortable to be lying down. “Like if we're going to make people believe it then we’re going to need some displays of public affection or whatever.” 
Rowan didn't even need to look to know Aelin was delighting in how red his face had gone. A wicked smile crossed her face, “Are you trying to seduce me Rowan Whitethorn?” 
He couldn't help the short laugh that escaped his lips. “Stop that,” he grumbled halfheartedly. Aelin had always been the best at making him blush. 
“We’ll kiss here and there, go to a few parties together, and hang out with each others friends a few times. It won't be too hard.” She shrugged as if they were just discussing the weather. 
“Alright.” If she wasn't going to act like this was a big deal, than neither was he. 
Half hour of back and forth conversation and a few snide comments later, the rules were complete. Rowan ripped out the looseleaf paper and held it up for Aelin to read. 
Fake Dating Contract
1. Tell two people each ... ONLY
2. No making out for longer than 30 seconds. 
3. No being rude or resentful to each other in public
4. Rowan must fake date Aelin for four months or until she says otherwise. 
5. Aelin must get Rowan a football tryout by week two
6. Rowan and Aelin’s friend groups have to sit together at lunch
7. ANY RULES BROKEN RESULT IN THE SAID RULE BREAKER BEING BURNED ALIVE. 
Rowan had added the second one, much to Aelin’s amusement. She had stolen the paper at the end to add the last one and sign her name at the bottom, handing it back to Rowan to do the same. 
Once both their signatures were at the bottom, he pocketed the paper and stood to leave. 
“You’re leaving?” Aelin blurted out, clearly uneasy. 
“Why would I stay?” He meant it to come out rude, but it sounded more like a plea for a reason to. 
Aelin hesitated for a moment before offering him a small smile and turning away. Sighing, Rowan quickly exited the room, tiptoeing down the stairs and out the door to avoid any awkward encounters. It was only when he got to his car that he realized just how badly he had wanted her to make him stay. 
--------
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purvishraick · 4 years ago
Text
A TALE OF ALWAYS AND FOREVER
CHAPTER 7
Fanfiction : Bloodbound (Choices)
Pairing : Adrian Raines x Amy Richard Parker (MC)
Warning : none
Rating: Teen
TAG LIST : @otherworldlypresents ​  , @evelynistic ​   , @silma-words ​ , @fireycookie , @lauren-raines-x , @nala-raines
If anyone wanna be tagged in future do let me know….
read previous chapter here ….. Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6
So here i promised this last night but sorry it got delayed ...got stuck in some important work .... now here i am .... i hope u like it
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Amy had to forcefully cut the call, in order to shut her brother and she new that this will make him angry. But she didn’t need a pep talk for not getting wasted in the club before her interview. She could handle her brother afterwards and the interview was important. She wandered here and there and settled on the bench. She felt like she is being watched from behind but didn’t find someone. Just then a stunning woman with an icy demeanor came towards her.
“Amy?” stern woman said .
“ yes that’s me “ she replied .
“I am Nicole Anderson, VP of operations at Raines Corp. I will interview you . “ she said .
Amy was surprised to see that she was going to be interviewed by someone so high at post but her queries were eased when she reminded her that they take their hiring process very seriously and she followed her in the conference room keeping her confident look .
“ now then. The Raines Corporation is a global leader in technology and innovation . Why exactly are you interested in being the executive assistant to our CEO ? “
“well…” Amy took a deep breath and continued , “ I’d love to help make the world a better place . what I admire most about the Raines Corporation is your dedication to global innovation and improvement. The clean – water initiative …the vaccine for the cerella virus …the green energy project… you guys aren’t just getting rich. You’re trying to help people, to make technology that’ll save the planet. I can’t think of anything better than being a part of that.”
“hmm……a good answer. A bit cloying , perhaps, but Adrian might actually like that “ Nicole said with an appreciative look.
Just as she was going to speak the next thing , the door at the back of the room swings open , and a handsome man in a perfectly – tailored suit strolls in.
Intelligence sparks through his eyes . He was extremely charming , with his black obsidian eyes assessing her , her already killer nervousness now peaked a whole new level.
“ Adrian I wasn’t expecting you…” Nicole asked unable to hide the surprise in her voice .
Adrian as in Adrian Raines …well all escalated very quickly for her .
“ I had a free minute. Is this the candidate ?” he asked taking the authority in his hands as he decided.
Professionalism and seriousness reflected in his voice .
“ yes …but I’ve just started the interview and—“ Nicole asked stammering .
“ I’ll take over from here “ he cut her off not wanting to take any excuses .
“……of course sir , go right ahead “ she surrendered .
Adrian sat across Amy , eyes burning right through her . He has never seen such a beautiful person in his entire existence , god knows how would she be as a person .
Amy’s nervousness grew even more when his eyes bore through her but she remembered once more , she is Amy Richard Parker and nothing in this world ever scares her , she remembered her brothers’ advices on professionality and confidence and recalled her dad’s proud thought about her and her mother’s loving smile . Now that was enough to calm her down , so she put on the brave and fearless smile again on her face and straightened her back.
“ Amy , is it ? “ Adrian looked at her and saw her hazel brown eyes which her so hypnotizing , with all his strength he prevented himself from being lost in them .
“ that’s right “ she said interrupting his thoughts .
“ tell me Amy , what do you desire ? “ he asked her and she was surprised at the question .
Amy was already so mesmerized from him that this question surprised her.
“ You mean ……why do I want this job ? Because I – “ but was interrupted by Adrian .
“ I didn’t ask why you want this job. I asked what do you desire . “ he asked seriously and professionally.
“ I desire ……PASSION “ she answered after thinking fir a while .
“ oh , really ? “ he asked , his brows raising , he was in true sense intrigued by her answer .
“Sorry , if that is too personal but I am just being honest . I want to feel deeply. I want to experience life , live every moment like my last. We never know when is our last moment , it is better to live our life to the fullest than to regret it afterwards . That’s what I desire “ she answered honestly and it was the true answer she saw what happened to her family everything was good and happy then suddenly they lost everything , she do not want to regret anything .
“ I can relate“ Adrian was impressed internally but didn’t expressed it. He supressed a smile to reach his face. He was truly impressed by her desire to live and feel and experience. He now looked at her resume .
“ lets see here … graduated college 3 years ago …masters in communication …interned at Mannon financial…volunteered in San Torbida and France abroad for a year “ he read out and again was impressed from her but wondered why it took her an extra year to sign up for this interview or for that matter any other one .
“ yep that’s right “ she said .
“ well , how was that tell me in three words “ he asked .
“ difficult. Enlighting. Rewarding. “ she replied easily .
“ good , this job can be challenging and unpredictable , are you comfortable running unusual errands ?”
“Absolutely “
I have been doing them since a long time now , she thought to herself , smiling .
“ Handling confidential information ? “
“ I can keep a secret “
You wont even realise how many I am keeping right now too , she thought again and smirked .
“ Working nights ? “
“ Always been a night owl “
Okay , I atleast told him one thing fully without strings attached , she smiled while thinking .
“ Good , Anything else I should know about you ? “
“ Hmmmm …… I have got WORLD CLASS people skills “ , she said with a proud smile .
“ Oh , really ? “ he asked with questioning eyes .
“ I was voted ‘ most likable ‘ in my high school class . Also ‘ most popular ‘ and ‘ best smile ‘ . Technichally you are not supposed to win in multiple categories , but I was able to persuade them . And also the cherry on the top I was the PROM QUEEN “ , she stated out all of her achievements proudly and remembered how happy and proud her father was to see her that day . She and her brothers has always been the brightest in the whole family , anyways. Suddenly feeling nostalgic and tears building in her eyes she averted her gaze on the floor.
“ Thus proving your point “ said a grinning and impressed Adrian , but he saw a glint of sadness in her eyes and he doubted that he saw tears too , and was unable to understand why counting her proud moments made her sad .
“ exactly” Amy said after controlling her emotions and forcing a smile.
“ one more question “ Adrian leaned forward hands folded on the table and with an intense expression , told her the story of a man who got a genie lamp and destroyed everything , and then finally asked her about what should his final wish should be .
“I think his final wish should be to undo his first two wishes “ she said after thinking for a while .
“because ?” Adrian asked curious to know her theory .
“ because he already had everything he could ask for a family and many friends …what could he ask for more it was more than enough …all he wanted or ever needed was right there in front of him …this is a story of temptation and greed …he should have never played this game …all now he can do is making things as they were before “
Her answer was something totally honest … Adrian glanced at her and then noticed how true each and every word was . she was not only beautiful but also quite intelligent …in true sense beauty with brains.
She was quite interesting too …Adrian personally never saw such a person in his entire life … and he needed to know her …he knew that it is a huge risk and a mistake but he already did that when he decided to interview her himself …now he couldn’t resist her … so then he does the only thing he could do …he knew that Nicole will be a big trouble after this but guess he was okay with that if it was what would keep this girl around .
Then he grins brightly at Amy and says
“ You’re hired “
“wait what ? …seriously “ Amy asked with wide eyes , she was surprised , how in world is it possible that someone gets hired so fast …this was weird to her … but of course she was happy .
Adrian left an inside giggle watching her surprised reaction …she looked adorable with those wide eyes …his smile grew even wider … and he extends his hand …which obviously she took .
‘ oh my god …his skin is impossibly smooth…and hold so firm …wow he is really handso-……no no no …stop brain stop thinking …no eyes …don’t look in his eyes for too long … fuck …, I am a disaster …stop cheeks don’t turn red …god please ‘ she thought .
Good god if god wanted to kill her please kill her in this exact moment …someone save her from this embarrassment …she was a disaster with wide eyes blushing cheeks …FUCK.
Adrian saw her flustered reaction which was by far the cutest thing he saw in his life … his vampire senses made her blushing cheeks clearly visible …the dark pink tint on her cheek made her impossibly adorable.
“welcome to Raines Corporation “ , he said with a bright smile
They made eye contact for just moment but everything stood still for that particular moment …it was mesmerising .
In that moment Adrian didn’t knew about Amy but he knew that they were going to go a long way .
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@choicesficwriterscreations
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heauxplesslydevoted · 5 years ago
Text
Under My Skin (Ethan x MC)
Warning: 18+, NSFW
Summary: Set in the middle of chapter 6, Ethan and Naomi have it out over the current state of the diagnostics team.
Tags: @colourmeshy @virtualrain202 @fanmantrashcan @writinghereandthere @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune ~v~
Naomi stares at the textbook in front of her, eyes tired and blurry. She checks the time on her cell phone and 3:22 AM stares back in bold, white letters. Craning her head slightly, she spots Ethan standing at his kitchen island, looking at something on his laptop. 
She never thought she’d be back in his apartment, but he invited the entire diagnostics team over so they could get some research done on Leland Bloom’s case. Ethan wants it to be solved as quickly as possible, and he wants to be rid of the tech billionaire, so after work they all congregated in his apartment, eating Chinese food, drinking wine, passing around textbooks and throwing out theories. 
They’ve been at it for almost 6 hours now. 
The energy in the room is off. Ethan’s been pissed ever since the board told him they’d need to be for-profit and start accepting wealthy clients and potential donors, and everyone feels it. June, Baz, and Naomi have been walking on eggshells around him, but aside from occasional snark from Naomi, they’ve been extremely curt.
Jenner likes her though. The golden retriever took a shine to her the moment she crossed the threshold to Ethan’s condo, sniffing at her feet and attaching himself to her hip. He’s now lounging with her, head in her lap and she pours over this book, and she’s glad. The friendly dog provides an excellent distraction and Naomi is thankful, because his owner currently sucks.
Naomi has dealt with a lot of Ethan’s moods before: upset, defeated, angry, happy, the works. But she’s never had his ire directed at her before. They’re in this mess because of her, and it’s a tricky space to occupy. It’s not fun.
“As much as I love reading, if I look at another word, I think my brain might melt,” June says, breaking the tense silence. She stifles a yawn.
“I’ve tapped out for the night as well,” Baz adds. “I’ve looked up every possible kidney and bladder disease and disorder known to mankind. I’m on sensory overload. I think it’s time I go home.”
Ethan looks up from his laptop. He knows his team is probably exhausted. He can’t believe they’ve actually stayed over this long. “Well, thank you for staying. Go home, get some rest, I’ll see you at the hospital.”
June and Baz gather their belongings and all of the study material they brought along with them, returning Ethan’s living room to its original tidy state. Muttering goodbyes, the two of them exit the apartment. 
And then there were two. Naomi ignores the tension, ignoring the fact that they haven’t been alone together in over a week. Instead, she buries her face in her book, trying to focus on the words.
Ethan doesn’t bother sparing Naomi another glance before asking, “You didn’t want to leave with them?”
“Why, are you about to go to bed?”
“No.”
“Then, no.” She’s not going to stop now, and give him the satisfaction of thinking she’s given up for the night. Her stubbornness won’t allow it. “I don’t want to disrupt the process. I want this guy diagnosed and treated as badly as you do.”
Ethan scoffs. “I doubt it.”
Naomi has been giving as good as she gets when it comes to the passive aggressive snark, but it’s just exhausting at this point. She refuses to be his emotional punching bag any longer. She whips around in her seat. “God, is being a petulant little crybaby a second full-time job for you?”
That manages to get Ethan’s full attention. He levels a cool glare at the young resident, eyebrow raised in challenge. “You’ve gotten real comfortable calling me out of my name recently. Care to repeat that, Valentine?”
“You heard me loud and clear, Ramsey. You’re being a petulant little crybaby. You’ve been trying to pick a fight with me for the past 2 weeks. Look, I apologized, multiple times, for going behind your back or over your head, but I will not apologize for doing what I believe is right, not just for the team, but the hospital.”
“And you’re an insubordinate know-it-all!” Ethan shoots back. “You’re the type to touch the hot stove despite being repeatedly told not to because you think you’re a special snowflake who’s above getting burned. You lack foresight and analytical thought and self-preservation.”
Naomi recoils, having not expected Ethan to snap at her like that. “Excuse me?”
Jenner recognizes the change in tone between both adults. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, he moves from his spot on the couch and trots out of the living room, disappearing into the hallway.
“You thought this was going to be easy, that patients would just come flocking to us, but look at us, and everything would be perfect. We’re part of some social media...something or another’s video diary, we’re competing with a subpar hospital for patients despite being better than them, wasting time and resources because he wants to treat this like a reality show contest, and who knows what’s next, because you’ve opened Pandora’s box. We’re whoring ourselves out to the highest bidder, and the integrity and core foundation of this team has been compromised. So please spare me the martyr act, Naomi, and while you’re at it, please remember that I’m still your boss the next time you want to spout off at the mouth.”
Naomi’s hands are shaking, and she can practically feel the anger boiling in her blood. The nerve of this man. She stands up, ignoring the heavy book that fall out of her lap and onto the floor as she does so. She charges over to him, and sizes him up. Ethan’s almost a foot taller than her, but Naomi doesn’t care about the height disparity. She tilts her head back so she can look him in the eye.
“I’m not a martyr, but you’re a self righteous hypocrite. You’ve been pouting and waxing poetic about Naveen’s mission when you were the first one to mess with his legacy.”
Ethan’s nostrils flare at the accusation. “Excuse me?”
“Last year, you got into bed with Declan Nash and big pharma, compromising your own shaky moral code in order to save the life of one person. I’m trying to keep the team around in order to save a lot more people than just Naveen!”
“That was different!” Ethan argues. It doesn’t even feel right coming out of his mouth, but they’re far too deep in the argument for him to do anything besides dig his toes in.
“The only difference is you were the one in control then. But because it is my idea, you’re rejecting it. You’re being completely unreasonable here, Ethan. We’re standing in the middle of a sinking ship. Edenbrook is in trouble. My friends and I didn’t get our new salaries upon becoming residents, there’s talk of them shutting down the free clinic, and they’ll be coming after our team next. Who knows, maybe they’ll decide that mental health isn’t important and the entire psychiatric department should go. And then the nurses. And then they’ll start ordering less and less supplies, just to stay above water. And maybe you don’t care, because you’re Ethan Ramsey, you’re so wealthy that you only get a one dollar salary from the hospital, you’re established, your livelihood isn’t on the line, and I’m sure any hospital in the world would kill to employ you, but the rest of us? The little guys? We don’t have that option, so again, if you’re looking for me to kiss your ass and grovel because I made an executive decision, you’re going to be looking for a mighty long time.”
Ethan studies her, his gaze coolly fixated on her as she rants because he’s waiting for the second she stops talking, so he can jump back into his own argument. He realizes that it’s not an effective way to debate, and he falters slightly.
“What’s wrong?” Naomi goads, her voice taking on a singsong tone. She’s embroiled in the fight now. “Cat got your tongue?”
In his 37 years of living, Ethan can confidently say Naomi Valentine is the most infuriating woman he’s ever met. A stubborn, impulsive, hot-head with a smart mouth. 
And fuck, he’s made a mistake.
Her mouth. Now his gaze is fixated on it, her full lips that she’s repeatedly bitten down on during this argument, the tackiness of her lip gloss, the way her tongue darts in and out.
Their argument is now the furthest thing from his mind, and he’s actually annoyed by it. What is it about this…woman that completely bewitches him? He wants to argue, not be transfixed on how pretty she is. She doesn’t even have to do anything and he’s under her spell again. 
A sharp jab in the middle of his chest pulls Ethan back to reality. He looks down and realizes that Naomi poked him in the chest, out of anger or to get his attention, he’s not sure.
“Hey!” The fact that he’s ignoring her only makes her more incensed. He started this fight, he doesn’t get the right to dissociate and shut down in the middle of it. “Have you listened to a word I just said?”
“No,” Ethan answers honestly. Naomi’s eyes darken at the response. He didn’t say that to piss her off further, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the sight.
He can tell she’s going to launch into another tirade, one that’s completely separate from their original issue, because that’s just how things are between them; they spiral before either of them knows what’s happening.
Before she can even fix her mouth to call him another name, his hand cups her jaw, tilting her head back, and he slants his mouth over hers, kissing her fiercely.
She gasps. This is the first time he’s ever caught her off guard and initiated a kiss. She’s usually the one to be in control.
All too quickly, Ethan pulls back, locking eyes with the young woman in front of him. She’s dazed, chest heaving and eyes glazed over.
“Did you do that to get me to stop talking?”
“No, I kissed you because I wanted to. But the fact that it got you to stop running your mouth is a personal bonus.”
Naomi huffs, but doesn’t say anything else. God, he could be such an asshole at times.
“I want to do it again,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. His blue eyes pierce into her own, and it suddenly becomes hard to focus on anything other than him. “Can I?”
She doesn’t know why it’s so sexy, him asking for permission, but she feels the butterflies in her stomach rumble at the question. She’s barely able to nod her head before Ethan launches himself at her, sending her flying back into the kitchen counter.
It’s so different from any other kisses they’ve shared. This one she can feel all the way down in her toes. His tongue darts out, gliding against her bottom lip and demanding access to her mouth, which she eagerly grants him.
Everything about him invades her senses: the feel of his calloused hands touching her jaw, the scratch of his beard against her face, the smell of his cologne (something by Gucci that she’s been yet to narrow down), his taste (she can still taste the wine on him, even though he drank it earlier), his sounds (the little groans that only she’s privy to, always gravelly and smooth, that make her knees buckle). It all culminates into this one man that is so all-consuming, it makes her lose her mind.
The kisses become shorter, more teasing, allowing Naomi the opportunity to actually breathe. He leaves kisses along her jaw and neck, making her whimper.
Ethan wraps an arm around Naomi’s waist and spins them, pushing her against the wall. She winces upon contact. “Warn a girl next time.”
“You want to know what’s been on my mind recently?” Ethan asks, nipping at Naomi’s earlobe.
“W-What?”
His hands find purchase underneath the grey Henley she’s wearing and he lifts it up. Her stomach clenches under his touch and it’s maddening just how responsive she is to him. “I haven’t been able to get the sight of you out of my mind since I came to pick you up from your apartment the other day.” With trembling fingers, Naomi helps him remove the shirt, and it’s tossed somewhere behind them.
She’s not wearing the grey bra he saw the other day, this one is a soft pink, and he groans at how it contrasts against her skin. There isn’t a color that doesn’t look good on her. “I stood there…” he only pauses to place opened mouthed kisses on her collarbone. “...like a floundering idiot…” this time he kisses slightly lower, earning a sharp inhale from Naomi. The noise does nothing to soothe the erection straining in his jeans. “...while you decided to tease me.”
“You’re the one who decided to stay,” Naomi shoots back with a shrug. “So I had to put on a little show.” He hums in agreement. His tongue darts out, flattening over her lace covered nipple. “Fuck, just take it off!”
“You still have no patience,” Ethan observes. He yanks at the material, until he hears a loud tear.
“That’s La Perla!”
Ethan blinks, struggling to find the significance in that statement. Was it supposed to mean something to him? “Okay?”
“It was expensive, you jerk!”
“I’ll buy you 10 more,” he replies with a shrug before resuming his previous activity, pulling one of her nipples between his lips, sucking lightly. Naomi’s breath comes out in quick bursts, and it’s becoming harder for her to stay grounded to reality. She reaches out, wanting to touch him, but he intercepts, catching her wrist. “Hands to yourself, Valentine.”
Ethan’s fingers make work of the button holding her jeans together, and he drags down the zipper. He yanks at her jeans with the same care he afforded her shirt and bra, tugging them down until they pool at her feet. Naomi does the rest of the work, hopping around until the pants are fully off.
“You and the thin scraps you call underwear, have been driving me insane all week,” Ethan confesses. “The other day when I came to pick you up, part of me was so mad at you because of your blatant defiance, but the other part of me wanted to push you onto that bed, and do very, very inappropriate things to you.”
The wetness that floods her panties is overwhelming. She clenches her thighs together in hopes of alleviating some of the tension, but it doesn’t help. Figuring out a new strategy, she wraps a leg around his waist, pulling him flush to her. She rolls her hips, grinding into him. The growl that escapes his lips only fuels her and strokes her ego. “You should’ve.”
Ethan kisses her again, reveling in the needy way Naomi claws at him. Her fingers are desperate, fingering into his t-shirt, twisting at the fabric. He’s unsure if she wants to take it off, or if she’s impatient enough to say ‘fuck it,’ and just rip it.
Whatever the case, he doesn’t let her continue. Grabbing both of her hands, he forces them on either side of her. “You really do have a problem with listening. No. Touching.”
The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down her spine, but whatever rebellious side of her that wants to challenge the command is squelched with one look into his eyes. She can tell he means business and now isn’t the time to challenge his authority.
With restraint she didn’t know she had, Naomi places her palms on the hall behind her, and she stays as still as she can.
“Good girl.” Ethan smirks and drops her hands. He untangles himself from her and steps back an inch to admire his work. “You followed directions for once.”
Whatever smart aleck reply that was about to fly from her mouth is stifled by Ethan pulling her soaked underwear down and slipping two digits past her folds. The noise she lets out is a mixture of a high pitched yelp and a strangled moan, something that threatens to choke her.
The pace he sets is random and uneven, never giving Naomi a chance to settle into a rhythm, and she wonders if this is his way of punishing her, keeping her keyed up and writhing on him for what feels like eternity, trapped in her own form of purgatory.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and bucks her hips wildly into his hand, trying to keep pace with him.
“Stop doing that,” Ethan demands, using his free hand to pull her lip out of her mouth. “I want to hear you, Rookie.”
Something about the use of her former nickname makes her moan, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Ethan.
“You like the nickname,” he states. “It’s funny, you know.  You take every opportunity to defy me, argue with me, and push my buttons, yet you get off on me controlling you.”
She can’t focus. He’s too close, it feels too good, and her brain can’t function properly under these conditions. He presses forward, the heel of his palm pressing into her clit, earning a hiss.
“Admit it.”
At this point Naomi would admit to committing armed robbery if it meant he’d keep doing this. She nods frantically. “Yes, Doctor.” He groans at the use of his title, and he pumps harder, curling his fingers inside of her. 
Naomi stands on tiptoes and desperately claws at the wall behind her. “Fuck Ethan, please!”
“Please, what? What do you want?” His lips find her neck again, and he sucks on her pulse point, only making things more hazy. “Use your words, Rookie.”
She wants a lot of things. She wants to cry out, she wants to dig her nails into his back until she draws blood, she wants him to keep talking her through this, his gruff voice in her ear as she shatters around him.
Unfortunately, Naomi cannot form a coherent sentence to save her life. She just rolls her hips, shamelessly grinding herself into his hand. “I...I…” The pleasure mounts, building in the pit of her stomach, spreading out. She’s so close, she can almost taste it. 
“Do you want to cum for me?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, please, I want–” Ethan rewards her for her honesty and his thumb drags into her clit and he rubs the sensitive nub in tight, quick circles. That’s all it takes, and she orgasms with a strangled cry and she’s thankful Ethan is right here because he holds her upright as her legs momentarily give out.
When Naomi regains the ability to stand on her own, Ethan lets go and slowly removes his fingers. Moving fast, Naomi grabs his hand, and without breaking eye contact with him, she slides the two digits into her mouth, licking them clean.
Ethan’s next breath is a shaky gasp that leaves his lung far too quickly. “Fuck, Rookie.”
“Why don’t we move this to the bedroom?” Naomi suggests, releasing his fingers with a loud pop.
Ethan shakes his head. “No.”
He registers the confusion on her face, but Ethan doesn’t give her a chance to respond. He grabs her by the waist and kisses her again, walking them towards the living room. He only breaks the kiss to pull his t-shirt over his head, and it joins the growing pile of discarded clothing scattered around. Naomi helps him speed the process along, getting rid of his belt and popping the button on his jeans. Her fingers hook into the belt loops of the pants and she pulls them down.
Before she can do anything else, Ethan stops her wandering hands. “Wait, wait.”
“Wait for what?”
Ethan knocks his forehead against hers and he sighs deeply. “Naomi, if you don’t want to do this, please stop me now.”
She thinks it’s cute that he’s giving her an out, but she doesn’t need it. Her fingers slip past the waistband of his soft cotton boxers, a warm dainty hand wrapping around him.
Ethan shudders as a warmth spreads through him at the touch of her hand, and he mentally curses himself. He pushes her hand away.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I’m not cumming into your hand.” Ethan spins Naomi around and bends her over the arm of his couch. 
While it’s not the desk in his office, Naomi won’t complain. She feels one of his calloused hands trace the length of her spine and her eyes flutter shut in anticipation.
No patience left, Ethan tugs down his underwear, letting the material pool at his ankles. Without another word, he lines herself up at Naomi’s entrance and thrusts into her all at once. He groans at the sensation.
Naomi has never been more thankful for couch cushions, as they muffle the scream that escapes her.
“Fuck, Naomi.” He digs his fingers into her hips before pulling out and slamming back into her. He doesn’t give her any time to adjust, but she doesn’t mind. They both know patience isn’t her forte. “You’re...so...tight.” His words are punctuated by sharp thrusts that threaten to steal the air straight from her lungs.
He leans forward slacking against her, but Naomi welcomes the weight. His beard scrapes against her shoulder blade, his breath warm against her ear, his fingers which are no doubt going to leave a bruise, all of it makes her dizzy, and god, this isn’t going to last much longer.
His thrusts become sloppier, more frenzied as the pleasure mounts, his blood boiling in his veins like molten lava. The only thing he can hear is the sound of the skin slapping, and his ragged breaths.
“Are you close?” He asks. But Naomi can’t think, let alone actually speak words, even if something monosyllabic would suffice. Why does he keep trying to make her speak? Her head drops with a thud and she mumbles something incoherent.
“For someone who had so much shit to talk earlier, you’re mighty silent.” Letting go of her hip, Ethan tangles a hand in her hair, yanking it back so she can’t hide her face in the cushions anymore. His other hand reaches around and he rolls her clit with his middle finger. Still way too sensitive from her last orgasm, she thrusts back, clawing at the couch with her nails, but he holds her in place, refusing to let her move.
“Ethan, fuck, don’t stop!” The words fly out all at once, shaky, fast and jumbled, but it’s all Ethan needs. 
With a burst of energy he didn't know he possessed, he drives into her, plunging deeper. “Cum for me, Rookie.”
Naomi screams. Loudly, and she’s sure his neighbors might be very annoyed, but she doesn’t care. Everything goes white behind her eyes as he all but pushes her over the edge. She clenches around him and Ethan hisses as she’s holding him in a vice-like grip. A few quick thrusts later, and he’s joining her in ecstasy, spilling inside of her. The hand holding her hair tightens for a second, then relaxes.
She’s pretty sure she blacked out for some period of time because when Naomi is finally able to focus, they’re no longer obscenely bent over the arm of Ethan’s couch. They’re on the floor, in the cramped space between the couch and the coffee table. 
She’s hot and sticky and absolutely exhausted. She places her hand over her heart, willing it to stop beating so erratically. Stealing a glance, Naomi peers up and looks at Ethan. He looks as disheveled as she feels, his hair tousled, lips swollen, chest and neck flushed red.
Her voice is horse and completely shot to hell when she finally speaks, “If that’s how our fights are going to play out from now on, I’ll let you pick more fights with you. And I’m a Cancer, we’re stubborn people.”
“I think we can find a happy medium somewhere.”
Naomi rolls over, until she’s nestled into his side and her head is on his chest. She can feel his heart beating rhythmically under her cheek. “Are we still fighting?”
“No.”
“Are you still mad at me?” He doesn’t answer the question right away, and a sense of dread fills her.
“I was never really mad at you,” Ethan admits after a long bout of silence. “I’m just mad at the entire situation. I’m mad at the budget cuts, I’m mad at our country’s healthcare system, I’m annoyed with your inability to listen to me. I’m mad at Leland Bloom’s obscene wealth and the fact that he gets to dangle his money in our faces like we’re horses waiting for carrots.”
“You made the right call, Naomi,” he continues. “But it’s a call you shouldn’t have been forced to make in the first place. I’m sorry for making you carry the brunt of my misplaced anger.”
“Apology accepted. And since we’re apologizing, I’m sorry for calling you a petulant little crybaby.”
Ethan chuckles. “Do you apologize for calling me a goddamn diva, as well? Don’t forget ‘entitled jackass’ and ‘spoiled child’.”
“You co-signed ‘spoiled child’ so I am not apologizing for it.”
“Fair point,” Ethan concedes.
Blindly searching with an outstretched hand, Naomi finds her cell phone and checks the time. She has to be at work in 2 hours, though she’d much rather get into Ethan’s bed and go to sleep.
“That happy medium that you mentioned? I think I have it figured out.”
Ethan raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Oh, yeah?”
“First and foremost, I promise to never go over your head again, if you agree to do a trial run on whatever ideas I may come up with. You can’t shoot me down immediately.”
“I’m...willing to agree to that.”
“And once this all settles down and the hospital isn’t on the verge of complete financial collapse, maybe we can convince the board to only take on one or two billable patients a quarter.”
“That’s actually not a bad idea.” 
“Yeah, I tend to have those every once in a while,” Naomi teases.
Ethan stares at Naomi as she laughs at her own poor joke. Everything about her is an anomaly to him. She blew into his life a little over a year ago and here he is, willing to adapt his entire ethical code for her. And here they are, entangled together as if he didn’t spend 2 months on a different continent in order to get her out of his head. What is it about her that he can’t shake?
He gently cups her jaw and kisses her as if she’s a precious gem, like he didn’t just try to devour her. “What are you doing to me?”
Naomi smirks, recalling that it’s the same question he asked her in Miami. “Hopefully something good.”
He kisses her again. “Better than good actually.”
Realization washes over her that once she leaves this apartment, things are going to go back to being the way they were. He’ll go back to pushing her away. “So does this mean you want to have another reset?”
The question throws him off, but he soon understands what she means. “No.”
“No?”
“No,” Ethan repeats. If there’s a happy medium to be found between his team and the board, maybe there’s one for him and Naomi.
She doesn’t allow herself to get swept up by his words, but instead she braces herself for the chance that he pulls the rug from under her feet. “Well, what does that mean?”
“It means you and I are going to take a shower together, go to work, and we deal with our obnoxious patient. And after work, you’re going to put on something fancy because I’m taking you out to dinner. How does that sound, Dr. Valentine?”
Naomi can’t stop an annoying grin from spreading across her face. “I think it sounds pretty damn good, Dr. Ramsey.”
513 notes · View notes
houseof-harry · 4 years ago
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omg that blurb of y/n going down on gray during a business call but instead it’s gray going down on y/n during one of her online class lectures 🤤🤤🤤🤤 omg please
(im basing this off of my online school experience and the classes I take as a political science major so if you’ve never taken a philosophy lecture........you’re so lucky)
Online learning had really opened up a new window for Grayson when it came to understanding what school is like for you. Sure, you would tell him things that would bother you at school, complain about the work, etc. but he never got to witness it.
So when you decided to quarantine with the twins, he saw first hand the way you’d go about your day and what was expected of you. And he had to give it to you, it sounded tough as fuck. He was grateful him and E were able to be successful enough to support themselves doing something they loved, because by the looks of it, school was something Grayson would have hated.
You, on the other hand, love it. Like 85% of the time. But for political theory lectures? There was very little love in your heart for those. Yes, the information was important for you to understand, and you found it interesting sometimes, too. But damn, those lectures are dry as fuck.
You were at the kitchen table, computer open as your professor went on about the Ideal City, your pen almost never leaving your notebook as you took your notes. Grayson was next to you, scrolling through Pinterest for inspiration for his new project.
One of your classmates takes a stall in the lecture as an opportunity to ask a question and you take this as your chance for a little break. You lean back, sighing as you stretch after being hunched over the table for so long.
“How’s it going?” Grayson mumbles, aware you have your mic muted, but still wanting to be considerate of you if you were still listening intently.
You groan, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes to try and wake yourself up a bit. “I’d rather be doing anything else right now.”
He chuckles, watching your professor answer the question on your screen. “Anything?”
“What, you have a suggestion?”
He bites his lip, closing his laptop and scooting closer to you. He wraps one arm around the back of your chair, his other resting on the table in front of you to trap you. Your shoulder was touching his chest and the new close proximity already had butterflies going around your stomach. Your eyes were quick to glance at your screen, double checking your camera was off so that no one could see your potential distraction and whatever plans he had.
“Keep taking notes, my smart girl,” he mutters, almost completely against your ear and you oblige, no idea what’s going on but loving whenever he takes charge.
You lean forward again, grabbing your pen and going back over your notebook as his hand falls to your lap, giving you the space you need to start writing down what your professor is saying.
His hand drags up your thigh slowly, cupping it and squeezing as he moves closer to your center. Your eyes widen as you give him a side eye to make sure he knows what he’s doing, and you’re met with his smirk as he watches you begin to squirm around. You attempt to close your legs a bit, preventing him from moving further up but he just brings his other hand to your other thigh to separate them farther than before.
“Thought you said you were bored,” he whisper, one finger coming to the crotch of your shorts, the heat radiating from you to the point where he can feel it before he even touches you. “So you’re gonna keep listening, keep taking notes, and I’m gonna make you cum all over this chair. Cool?”
You hold your breath for a second, contemplating your options. You of course could be a good student, push him away and tell him to wait until your lecture ended. Or you could indulge in the fine greek god next to you instead of the greek philosophy being spewed through your computer speakers.
You give him a quick nod and he wastes no time in sticking his hand in your shorts. He’s easily able to find your clit, and the slight brush he gives it is already sending shivers down your spine at the idea of what’s about to happen. You spread your legs wider for him, and he lets out a confident chuckle at your body’s reaction to him barely touching you.
You start to write again, doing your best to pay attention to the current description of the role philosophers play in the Ideal City your professor seems to drone on about. But Grayson is in no mood to tease you, so you feel his finger moving down to your slit, swirling around the wetness already collecting at your entrance.
He grunts, his ego only growing knowing he got you wet that fast. “Already soaked for me, baby. Excited for my fingers?”
You close your eyes for a second to try and collect your thoughts while you nod your head. Plato was falling farther and farther from your mind every time you felt the tip of his finger slide over your entrance, dipping in a bit to collect as much as he could but not enough for you to feel any satisfaction.
You let out a low whimper when you were able to open your eyes again, doing your best to focus on your notes, but Grayson seemed to want to make that impossible. As soon as your pen touched the paper, his finger was back on your clit and rubbing harsh circles.
“Gonna make you cum while everyone else is a good student. Can you be a good student, Y/N?”
“Yes,” you moan, and he seems temporarily satisfied with that answer because he continues his well thought out movements against your clit.
You let out a satisfied breath, your elbow bending so that your head could rest in your free hand. You barely had the energy to keep jotting down barely legible parts of your lecture, never mind to hold you own head up on your neck.
Grayson knew your body well, and he was using that to his advantage as he made sure to brush his finger right over the spot that made your legs twitch, and you could feel the heat from your pleasure spreading through your whole body. You’re sure if you had your camera on, your peers and your professor would be able to see your cheeks becoming read slowly, your eyes drooping.
You start rocking your hips against his movements, your high already approaching from how well he was working you up. Your brain was foggy, barely able to understand what your professor was saying, never mind the little cocky comments Gray was whispering in your ear about how easy it was to get you to cum.
You drop your pen, your entire focus going to the pleasure taking over your whole body and Grayson, unable to feel anything but the way he so delicious strokes your clit.
As soon as he notices, though, he pauses his movements which prompts a high pitched whine to come from the back of your throat as you turn to pout at him.
“Don’t give me that fucking look, you said you’d be a good student. Good students take notes.” He motions towards your computer with his chin, his brow raised as if to dare you to challenge him.
You decide today isn’t the day, though, because you’re too close and too desperate to try and have an attitude with him right now. So you pick up your pen, continuing on with your notes the best you could.
This makes him happy, because he is fast to lower his fingers, dipping two of them into you without any warning. You let out a deep moan, your hand dropping from your chin to the edge of the table to hold on as he moved his fingers so that he was directly stroking your g-spot.
“Fuck.”
You see him lick his lips from your peripheral, and you’re sure if you let your gaze drop you’d see a bulge growing there as well. But you knew if you tried, he’d stop because you’re supposed to be a ‘good student.’
You start to rock your hips more into his movements, rolling them so he could reach deeper inside you at the angle he was working with. With each thrust forward, your sensitive clit would rub against the rough palm of his hand, shooting pleasure through every part of your body.
Your hands were getting clammy, making it even more difficult to hold the pen up as he leaned in closer to your body.
“Gonna cum all over my fingers, baby? Gonna be a good girl and soak them?”
You nod profusely, and he doesn’t mind when you drop the pen to slam your hand down, throwing your head back as your orgasm started to take over.
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he mumbles, dragging his fingers from your walls as he feels your clench around them repeatedly, bring his wet fingers back to your clit to prolong your orgasm as long as he possibly can.
After you start to come down, you look over to him as you pant, your eyes heavy and your face totally blissed out. He chuckles, giving you one last harsh flick against your clit that makes you whimper, your legs twitching and clamping together on his hand.
“Okay, okay,” he laughs, removing his hand and bringing his fingers to his mouth immediately. You watch him slowly suck off your wetness from his fingers as he seems to savor every moment of it. You can see his jaw flex while his tongue gets every last trace of you from his fingers before they fall from his lips that settle into a smirk.
“Alright folks, as always it’s been a pleasure. I appreciate everyone who comes to the lectures, and I hope to see you next week,” you professor signs off, ending your lecture.
You slump back in your chair, eyes unable to leave Grayson as he watches you try and recover.
“You should tell your professor it’s truly a pleasure.”
178 notes · View notes
readingsbylibramc · 3 years ago
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birth chart reading for @myirlfa1ry
hello! welcome to your reading. I’m gonna give you a quick overview of what I’m going to analyze about your natal chart. feel free to ask me anything if something isn’t clear, of course. you’ll find out your dominants’ influence on your persona, your physical appearance, impression on others and the way you approach the world; your ego, identity, the real you; your reactions, your desires, inner emotions; your way of expressing your feelings, your mind and ideas; your desires and approach to love; your energy tank, instincts and temperament; in-depth analysis of each house with their rulers and analysis of heavy aspects; love life + soulmates/karmic partners interpretation; your relationship with your friends; your family life; your approach to career and work in general + possible jobs suggestion; your style, fashion sense analysis; life purpose and past life description; basic transits’ analysis to describe your current mood and, last but not least, your secret skills, how to make the most out of your soul and manifest what you desire based on your birth chart.
🦋 chart shape, dominants
your chart is a bucket shape, with jupiter as the handle of the bucket. your jupiter is in the 9th house, hence matters regarding foreign cultures and languages, education and experiences will be your priorities in this lifetime. you also have clear ideas about your future and who you want to be. even though you may have different passions and talents you’re capable of only sticking to one and mastering it, giving your all.
your dominant planets are mercury, venus and pluto. you are a very smart person, you can be quite astute and you have great problem-solving skills. you're also quite creative, or at least you have an eye for aesthetics. you may experience some karma throughout your life, meaning that if people hurt you, they'll eventually get hurt too and vice versa.
your dominant sign is aries. you may have a reputation for being impulsive and straight-forward. you don't like beating around the bush, especially when people purposely get on your nerves. on the other hand, you're very loyal and generous when it comes to your loved ones. you're very opinionated, and you always wanna make sure that your voice is heard. you're proud of yourself.
your dominant element is air. in your life, you adore seeking for knowledge of any kind. you may be interested in studying different subjects, from those you study at school like science, maths, literature etc. to more unconventional ones, such as astrology, psychology, criminology and so on. you enjoy interacting with people; even if you’re not that sociable, you’ll still be interested in their point of view and their ideals, as you see it as a way to expand your own mind. you’re also interested in vintage, and you may have a retro aesthetic or just like history in general.
🌎 ascendant in scorpio, 29° / 3rd decan ruled by pluto and the moon
your scorpio rising makes you quite pessimistic; you see the world as a place full of dangers and malice, hence it’s hard for you to trust people. this may be translated to fear; you’re either scared of other people, and hence you look more vulnerable, or maybe you’re the one who prefers to look intimidating to avoid problems. I don’t think you look unapproachable, though. there are other placements in your chart that say the opposite, so I imagine you project an image of yourself that makes you look quite naive. you can sense others’ emotions very well, so they have no secrets for you. you can perceive any single emotion in people just by looking in their eyes. while this is good, as you understand who’s best for you and you’re aware of the dangers you may face, scorpio risings tend to take advantage of this and be a little manipulative. this awareness of the world makes you look mysterious and secretive, as if you always know something more than others (and you probably do). pluto is also the planet of transformation, and you might experience a lot of rebirths throughout your life, both physically and emotionally. you might lose/have lost a big amount of weight, for example, which makes you look like a different person. or maybe, you like dying your hair of a different colour, giving you a different vibe. you wish you could be softer and show your inner emotions more easily, as scorpio is a water sign. the thing is, since it’s a fixed sign, it’s hard for you to be flexible and adapt to changes. when they happen, they’re usually out of your control as they’re literally life-changing. physically, I see you having a square face with high cheekbones. overall, your bones are very prominent and you’re naturally skinny. your eyes are extremely magnetic, and they could also be quite big and/or round. you might have either very pale skin, or just an olive skintone. sometimes, even a mix of both. your hair, eyebrows and lashes are very thick and dark too. you're at least of average height, and you could have something smaller on your face, like a small button nose, eyes, lips etc. you may also have very thick, naturally healthy and straight hair, as well as nice lips with a defined cupid's bow.
scorpio ascendant opposite taurus sun: this placement indicates that, when you’re in public, you tend to act in a different way from who you truly are. perhaps you’re shy, so you tend to hide your bubbly, charismatic scorpio rising with your modest, reserved taurus sun. this can obviously interfer in your relationships and bonds with others; some may expect you to be different, so you may often lose friends because you turned out to be more astute than what they were expecting. in fact, you may often attract people that try to take advantage of you. I wouldn’t worry too much, though, as I find this placement beneficial in your case, exactly because of this reason. but just in case it bothers you, now that you’re aware of this tendency of yours you can try to understand your real self more thanks to this reading, and start acting like who you truly are to get out of your shell.
scorpio ascendant square virgo jupiter: you probably learn a lot from people around you. you're most likely surrounded by wise, spiritual and possibly foreign individuals in your life. they help you to grow up, both spiritually and mentally. this placement also softens your rough scorpio image, making you look more outgoing and approachable. you're also very open-minded, and you rarely have prejudices. the downside to this placement is that you may be depend too much from your friends or lovers, especially when it comes to your beliefs. you're easy to influence, and you may change your mind often if others disagree with you. you could possibly have high expectations from others, creating a false idea of those who surround you. at least, you're aware of your abilities and you have the potential to make the most out of them, but you're modest about it. you don't come off as bossy, as other jupiter - asc aspects would.
🌞 sun in taurus, 19° / 2nd decan ruled by venus and mercury
you’re more sharp-witted and pragmatic than the typical taurus. you value stability in both romance and in your day-to-day life, like at work. you take care of your body and style in any sort of way, as your 1st house venus confirms. after all, the 2nd decan of taurus is a great balance of beauty and brain. I imagine that you're not very extroverted, you prefer staying in, but I repeat that you still probably have nice social skills. or at least, they're your secret skills. you like keeping your mind active everyday, especially by following your passions. if you’re the logical type, you might enjoy playing sudoku or things like that. on the other hand, if you’re more phylosophical you might enjoy reading, writing etc. you have a great sense of duty, that makes you want to excel in whatever you do. in addition to this, you’re also very stubborn. you probably get in arguments with others because you don’t accept their advices/criticism and prefer going your own way. you may also tend to overindulge a bit, and become a bit lazy. you're also very attached to food, but you still keep a healthy diet. you enjoy the finer things in life, but might struggle with jealousy because of that. you have the tendency to look at other people’s achievements and get disappointed about yours.
🌙 moon in aquarius, 2° / 1st decan ruled by uranus
with the moon in aquarius, you must be very unpredictable. you’re the type to change your mind often, probably because you’re constantly coming up with new thoughts and theories since you’re so intellectually active. you seem emotionally cold, and you may actually be like that. in your case though, I see that with your heavy water energy, you feel so much all at once that at one point you need to detach from reality to calm down. even though you have troubles showing this side of you, you’re deeply quite sensitive. you’re very creative and intelligent, even though you may risk to waste this potential of yours; in fact, I’ve noticed that most aquarius moons tend to put their intelligence aside because they’re way too rebel to keep up with it. it’s such a shame. perhaps, in school you didn’t really push yourself to the max, or overall you don’t give all of yourself to things that are not of your interest. you’re only a perfectionist with things you care about, and this could make you waste some of your potential. this placement makes you extremely spiritual as well. you may have some sort of psychic talent, or at least you’re just very intuitive. you’re interested in finding out the truth in the world, and you’re willing to dive deep to uncover it.
aquarius moon square aries mercury: your thoughts and feelings are constantly in contrast with each other. your aquarius moon is rational and logical, while your aries moon is more blunt and impulsive. this results in indecisiveness, you change your mind pretty often, and that can cause you conflicts due to communication problems. you're also pretty opinionated, you don't hide your feelings when you act by impulse. at least, the positive side of this placement is that you're probably very intellectual, capable of taking in consideration both the subjective and objective side of an argument.
🗣 mercury in aries, 24° / 3rd decan ruled by mars and venus
you are a fast-thinker, even though that doesn't mean you always take the right choices. in fact, you can change your mind very often. you probably have a beautiful, melodic voice, even though it's likely very loud. you also speak as fast as you think, making it hard sometimes to keep up with you in a speech. you could also switch from a topic to another casually. you don't really enjoy thinking about the past nor the future, you only care about the present and you live it they way you feel; hence, you're not really the type to care about learning from your mistakes. you always see the positive side of them, which can be both good and bad actually. that's because you're quite stubborn, it's hard to make you change your mind. you're very straight-forward, and that could lead you to conflicts as you don't understand the impact your words have on others.
❤️ venus in gemini, 25° / 3rd decan ruled by mercury and uranus
this is the flirtiest, most romantic gemini decan, but also the flakiest and most indecisive. your flirting style most probably includes jokes, teasing… things like that. even though you may seem flaky, as you like experiencing romance with different types of people, you’re actually quite picky. in fact, in order to fall for someone, you need to feel mentally attracted to them, not just physically. someone ignorant and stubborn that doesn’t care about learning something most definitely isn’t for you. you’re not the type to be super romantic and sweet with your partner or just people in general. you show your affection for example by sending them memes, making ironic jokes about them etc. also, when you’re into someone, you probably get very talkative! you start asking them simple questions about their life, even things like 'did you have lunch?’. also, you talk about them with all of your friends, and you find yourself thinking costantly about them. you’re very curious of nature, but you’re only interested in getting to know what catches your eye.
gemini venus conjunct cancer mars: you are very serious when it comes to love. you seek intense, long-lasting relationships, filled with both romance and passion. ironically, you tend to attract people that are the opposite, who are only looking for fun and casual romance. that could afflict your self-worth significantly, as you feel unlucky in love. this is also another placement that indicates that one of your parents, probably your father, or still anyone of the opposite sex probably influenced your approach to romance and sex. there are different scenarios I have in mind, but I'll talk about it later in the family life section.
gemini venus opposite sagittarius pluto: you find yourself having crushes on random people often, love at first sight is common for you. but when you seriously fall for someone, they’re your only thought. you start searching for info about them online, and you wanna become part of their life too. you love intensely, but not everyone may enjoy that. there are people that could feel overwhelmed by your love, others that would vibe with you and offer you the same kind of affection. ironically, you tend to attract detached, free-spirited people that most of the times don’t want anything serious. you’re prone to get jealous and possessive very easily, and this makes you suffer, as you may think there’s something wrong with you. maybe, it may even remind you of something that happened during your childhood, perhaps your parents were also very protective of you. love for you is a constant grow; your relationships will be hard, but there’ll always be something to learn to improve yourself and your confidence. little side-note, you may often date karmic partners, aka partners from your past lives, so you may often experience this 'I’ve already seen you before’-vibe in your new encounters and relationships, and you’ll always learn something from all your relationships.
☄️ mars in cancer, 1° / 1st decan ruled by the moon
in life, you have the need of feeling grounded and stable. you want to feel secure, and that makes you think deeply about your decisions, you don’t rush them. you’re not much impulsive, you think deeply about what to do and / or say, you are very cautious. this sense of being careful makes you quite indecisive, especially since you also have your sun in the sign of taurus, this energy is even stronger. you may change your mind often, or perhaps it takes you a lot to finally make a decision because you kept changing your mind. you tend to try and be collected whenever someone is getting on your nerves, but your feelings are extremely intense to totally bottle them up. you either get slightly passive-aggressive, and hence you could get very sarcastic and call them out indirectly, or perhaps you just lose your temper and face them angrily. possibly, you could even be the type to bottle up all of your feelings, until you explode all of a sudden. that can also make you more furious than normal, as you have all these repressed, strong feelings inside of you that were screaming to get out. you’re also extremely protective of your loved ones, especially of your family.
cancer mars conjunct cancer saturn: you're a serious competitor, as your mind is very strategic. your ambition makes you want to be the best wherever you are, and you may actually overwork yourself to achieve your goals. establishing your status is important for you. you may not be the type to act instantly, you prefer taking your time to follow a plan. in fact, you probably write down what you have to do in an agenda, or even in your phone's notes app. you have this strong sense of duty, as you feel 100% responsible of your fate. you're sure that, if you don't work hard, you don't deserve success and recognition. in fact, you don't take orders from others, you are your own boss. you could have materialistic tendencies, as wealth is what motivates you the most to work or just take action in general.
🏡 houses
your 1st house is in scorpio, with also pluto in this house making this energy even stronger. you fulfill your ego when you deal with intense situations that satify your needs. that is, you find strenght in getting out of your comfort-zone. even though you may be afraid of it. you’re an enigma: you know everything about others, but others know nothing about you. it’s your way to protect yourself from eventual enemies, as you’re prone to have a few of them throughout your life. your existence revolves around discovering your value, worth and purpose in general. your self-esteem is based on your physical appearance and on your achievements. you may have this mentality that you can’t take care of yourself if you don’t have enough money. you could also earn money through your appearance, or at least achieving confident is going to be a huge theme for you in this lifetime.
your 2nd house is in capricorn, with also the moon sitting in this house. you may have an artistic hobby, such as acting, drawing, etc. that could earn you compliments and praise, and hence it increases your sense of worth. you could also increase your self-esteem by taking pictures or videos of yourself, for instance. you love challenging your mind, but you're kind of lazy. you'd rather stimulate yourself through your hobbies and interests rather than using school / work, which are quite stressful for you. you need to find something material and concrete to motivate you and make you assertive. you could study just because you need a good grade, or maybe work just to get paid. you don't really do it with interest, as you care more about nurturing your passions than responsibilities. you're not really into conflicts; you'd rather be peaceful with everyone, as you find it a waste time to argue with someone. you're very peaceful, you try to avoid conflicts when you can. this placement makes you crave stability, whether it's financial, in love etc. you must be very stubborn, as taurus, the sign associated to the second house, is a fixed sign. this placement, paired with your imaginative moon energy, makes you settle on making your ideas concrete, and it's very beneficial. it makes you capable of achieving any goals in your life. you're also very artsy, and you may fancy particular art styles. you have a good eye for aesthetics, and you care a lot about the looks of your house, body, clothes etc. you have excellent concentration, and that is another thing that helps you achieve your goals and make your ideas concrete.
your 3rd house is in the sign of aquarius, with also neptune and uranus placed there. when it comes to speech, you’re most likely more introspective. you may not be much talkative, and most of the time you keep your ideas and thoughts to yourself, but actually it's hard for you to hide them. you may be secretive, but you're easy to read. you learn the best when you’re close to creativity or imagination, you’re very intuitive and hence it's easier for you to learn new topics. while you're very empathetic and you're able to properly convey your thoughts and feelings in your speech, you may also come off as sensitive or even insecure. you may have a quiet voice, and hence you could come off as shy. you have a very distinctive way of thinking and speaking. you don't like being like others, you don't follow trends. you're probably the trendsetter, and you may find confidence and pride in your ideas and opinions. some may even define you weird, but you have very strong beliefs that could actually be helpful for the world. you're quite 'ahead' of others from this point of view, you're able to find beauty in things without being influenced by others. for example, you may follow a fashion trend before it gets viral. you are able to come up with very innovative ways of solving problems, you're extremely creative. you may even be the type to invent your own words, or perhaps you love learning and reading new words, you have a wide vocabulary. you're also probably interested in science and any darker or logical topic, you want to use your words and theories to change something in the world. you want to leave an impact, maybe even help others through your mind. you have a very witty sense of humor, you most likely speak fluent sarcasm and you're also very astute. I would say that the only problem with this placement is that you may come off as a know-it-all, especially with your taurus sun.
your 4th house is in pisces. when you were young, you probably didn’t feel at ease with yourself. you might have been the outcast, that one kid that stood out in the daycare. you probably didn’t have many friends either, but you weren’t that sad about it. you enjoyed playing, drawing and watching your favorite cartoons alone. you find emotional comfort and security in your home, in your parents and in just family in general. you used to be very attracted to arts when you were a kid, and you kept this love with you while growing up. maybe, you were the type of child to lie to your parents. you have a good relationship with your parents, even though you may argue often as you're all quite impulsive and unpredictable. you may even be an absent parent, maybe your parents are divorced or one of them died.
your 5th house is ruled by aries, with also mercury sitting there. you find confidence in your creativity, and you have the desire to express it to the world. I think you’re probably the type to organize and arrange all the meetings and parties with your friends, you're practically the leader of your friend group. you may have aries hobbies, therefore you may be into sports and challenges of any kind. you could also enjoy working out and taking care of your physical appearance in general, you always try to look good. with mercury here, you may also be very creative. you are probably a good writer, and you could even gain money from these skills of yours. you have a spectacular way of speaking, almost dramatic, that could make you come off as a know-it-all. when telling stories, you may exaggerate a bit, but at least you’re entertaining to listen. you could also gesticulate a lot while speaking, and maybe you like mimicking voices as well. you aim to express your feelings through creativity, it’s very important for you to write poetry, songs, drawings etc., it’s also a way to relieve stress and worries.
your 6th house is in taurus, with also your sun sitting there. you may find yourself dating people at your work place, or maybe at school you go out with people from your class/school. romance is a part of your daily life for you. you like surrounding yourself with venusian aesthetic, so you probably take care of your body, your fashion, your home and so on. you may also be very fond of animals and money. basically, this placement makes your 2nd house even more prominent in your chart. this placement usually makes someone procrastinate a bit, you may have the habit of dedicating yourself too much to your passions without finishing your work, but I don't think it's your case. there are other placements in your chart that make you more hard-working than you look. you are in fact very dedicated to your job and routine. you probably don't like changes, you'd rather follow a schedule in your day-to-day life. your job and skills could be the key to make you gain more confidence in yourself, as they would give you the independency that you crave due to your sagittarius rising. you may have a job that allows you to earn a great income, and perhaps you could heal people with it. hence, you could be some sort of therapist, counselor, nurse or even something more artistic, like a writer. anything that allows you to heal people with your words would be suitable for you. you could also work in a place where you have to handle others' money or possessions in general. you're also a very practical individual, and you may have good health.
your 7th house is in taurus, and venus is also placed there. in marriage you seek security, both emotional and financial. you want a loyal partner that would never do anything to hurt you, and that has a wealthy job as well. intimacy and trust also matter a lot for you in a long-term relationship. your future partner will surely be like that, but you may unluckily attract possessive, jealous people, so beware of that. it may be a problem, especially considering your heavy sagittarius energy that wants to be free. you may date someone that looks good on your side. they may be someone important with great presence, and they could help you increase your self-esteem. they may actually resemble you, you could have similiar physical features. in addition, this is a huge indicator of a nice, peaceful marriage, I don't see you having to go through divorce or anything stressful for your love life, even though it may take you a while to finally find someone that you truly love, as you don't want to be tied down.
your 8th house is in cancer, saturn and mars are also sitting there. you are a very private individual, you have trust issues and you only share your concerns with people you're sure you can trust. you tend to preserve yourself, even though it’s hard for you to repress your emotions, as they’re too to intense to bottle them up. you absorb people’s feelings like a sponge, there’s no way that you won’t instantly understand their real emotions. overall, you tend to overreact a lot; you have cancer's sensitive energy on one side and 8th house’s mysterious, almost scary vibe. dealing with these emotional burnouts may be stressing to you, as you totally get caught up in them. even if it looks like you get to know other people often, you actually don’t let others know you. you’re the type of person to talk and socialize, especially after your saturn return, but you never reveal your deepest fears and thoughts to strangers. you only open up to people you’re sure you can trust. when you’re angry, you can literally go as far as using violence; you need to let out your emotions by screaming, swearing… anything that can make you feel better. when you don’t get rid of all your negative vibes when angry, you may tend to get physically sick; you could get stomachaches, or maybe even headaches. there’s a secret, sensitive side in you that needs passionate and romantic partners in love. yet, you can’t help but feel more attracted to the ones that may hurt you badly. you’re possibly quite sensitive to entities too, like ghosts, spirits...
your 9th house is in leo, and jupiter is also placed there. you’re able to grasp a lot of information that makes you think more about your identity. you’re probably interested in philosophy, poetry, literature... you are a perfectionist at school, and you probably have amazing grades. you are very justice-driven, you like learning new things and being the #1 at pretty much everything you care about. yet, you could be quite bossy at times, as you could come off as a bit too arrogant but you're just very dedicated. on the other hand, you're also very intelligent and open-minded above all, you could feel particularly drawn to foreign cultures and languages and you could be naturally skilled. you may also get to travel a lot or even move abroad at a certain point in your life, you're definitely a citizen of the world and you hardly ever have prejudices.
your 10th house is in virgo. you might be seen by strangers as a caretaker, someone extremely organized who has their life together, but that also doesn’t hesitate to take care of their physical appearance. your ultimate job would have to be some sort of healing career, you want to give and teach something through your work. in addition, your career is where you put most of your energy. you're driven by a strong sense of duty, and your career is also able to increase your confidence. you want to be a leader and create a name for yourself. jupiter is also conjunct the midheaven, therefore I definitely see you travelling around the world for your job. you may have to interact with people from all over the world, therefore you may have to speak a different language or deal with other cultures. you also have strong writing abilities, you are very philosophical and you could become known for your messages. you don't have to necessarily communicate through words, you could even become an artist, a designer, a singer who tries to communicate through their art.
your 11th house is in libra. you enjoy getting to know new people, maybe you have to do it because your job requires that. but just because you need to communicate with other people, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re your friends. basically, you're the type to know a lot of persons, but you may always feel lonely. that's because your bond with them is kind of shallow, they're not someone too intimate with you. hence, you feel as if you can never share your feelings with anyone. your friends may also be very good looking, perhaps even a bit more extroverted than you. since venus, the ruler of the 11th house, is in the 7th house, the house of marriage, I feel like you may befriend your future spouse first before marrying them. it may start as a simple friendship, or perhaps you're going to be introduced to each other by your friends. you could also meet online or in a very crowded place, such as a concert for example.
your 12th house is in scorpio. this is another placement that indicates that you crave intense, life-changing bonds, but that you also tame them. you're afraid of being betrayed, and hence you just end up repressing your feelings. on the other hand, this placement makes you extremely spiritual. you may be attracted to the occult or any spiritual topic: astrology, tarots, even spirits. and, since the ruler of the 12th house, pluto, is in the 1st house, you may use these tools to get to know yourself more. you can become aware of your karmic issues thanks to astrology for example, and use it to finally solve and break free from your limitations. it's important for you to get closer to your spiritual, higher self in this lifetime. it will probablt make your life much easier.
❤️ love life, soulmates
in love, you attract aries, taurus, libra, gemini, capricorn and virgo. your future spouse is probably going to be very magnetic and mature, but also very caring, playful and affectionate with you. with your soulmate, it may be love at first sight. you're also most likely going to meet someone very spiritual, and your future spouse could actually be your soulmate. in addition, I feel that you're going to marry someone foreign, they may have a different cultural background from yours or at least you'll have to travel to meet. your children will probably have aries, virgo, gemini placements in their chart. they're going to be very active and fiery, possibly also naughty. yet, they'll also be very fond of their parents, hard-working and intelligent too.
👶🏻 family life
your mother is probably a very caring person that knows how to stand up for herself when she has to, but she may struggle to do that. she's very smart and optimistic, and she could come from a different country from yours. maybe she's of another religion, or she can speak other languages. she also has very strong beliefs that you inherited from her. yet, she coule be a bit moody and impulsive. she may have aquarius, sagittarius, pisces and / or virgo placements in her chart. your father is a bit more serious and focused on work, but he always made sure you always had what you needed. he also has a more playful side to him, that he may not show often. he could be a pisces or virgo. if you have siblings, they probably have prominent capricorn / aquarius / pisces placements in their chart. you may fight a lot with them, and you may be quite possessive of each other. yet, this relationships gets naturally better as you grow up, you are going to get along more in the future.
📊 career
I imagine that you would do best at a career that involves healing, teaching... I can see you doing well in the medical field, for example. especially as a nurse, where you mostly interact with patients. you may also work for associations like the onu, where you're surrounded by people from all over the world. hence, you get in touch with different cultures that can help you opening your mind. you want a wealthy job, where you can be your own leader and use your imagination. I can also picture you doing some sort of online job, you could become an influencer for example or you may be known online for your talents. as I've already said before, you have probably a creative talent to you that could make you quite successful. overall, you want a job where you don't really have to depend on others. actually, you probably strive to be your own boss.
👚 fashion sense, style analysis
I imagine you put a lot of effort into your outifts, yet you don’t show it. you want to look effortlessly good, you don’t want to give the impression that you tried. your style may be quite minimalistic and simple, with lots of jeans, sweatshirts, plain t-shirts… I see you being more into natural shades, like white, grey, beige etc. you’re also not very fond of using too many accessories, you’re stylish but still very simple. you have this natural charm to you, hence you still look good even though your outfits may not be too complex.
👁 past life, life purpose
in your past life, you were a very spiritual individual. you were close to your higher self, and you probably were able to talk to ghosts, you used to interpret your dreams and you most likely were also interested in astrology and other occult matters. in this lifetime, you need to put your spirituality aside for a while, and focus on finding out your identity here on the earth. you can still use spirituality to find out, but your priority is learning your karmic lessons regarding your self-esteem and work. you’ll finally be able to reach happiness and fulfill your soul when you start having an organized schedule, which allows you to balance both your hobbies and work.
🤔 major transits analysis / june 26th
this month could have been a bit rough for you; you probably felt a bit down, you don't feel much sociable, you just want to stay by yourself and think about your life. you could be feeling the urge to improve yourself, maybe something about school or even about your physical appearance, and as a result you could be a bit anxious to be perfect. you could be quite insecure in these days, and you could also be struggling with finances lately. yet, you don't have to despair: this is caused by the planets transiting your 8th house, making conjunctions to your saturn. in a couple of weeks, you should be feeling much more active and motivated to achieve your goals in a healthy way.
🧿 manifest what you want, secret skills
your secret skills revolve around finances and just security in general. with a positive attitude, you may attract material luck: money, clothes, houses… everything that you desire. since you’re a logical person, I assume the most efficient way for you to manifest through the LOA is writing! take a notebook and just write down positive affirmations, such as 'I have the car of my dreams’ etc. you may also write them on post-its and glue them around your house, so that you can accelerate the progress. you can also try to idealize your wish before trying to manifest it. for example, if you want a new sweatshirt, try to imagine yourself wearing it. you could also go into a shop and actually try that sweatshirt it on; being in contact with it will boost the law of attraction even more.
and this is the end! thank you again for booking a reading :) let me know if it resonated!
- libramc xx
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scullydubois · 4 years ago
Text
Only the Light: Ch. 8
8/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, some fluff | currently: s2, ep 12, Aubrey | T (for now?) | 2.3k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic
Scully deals with the trauma of her nightmare when she and Mulder meet BJ in the park; a migraine leads Scully to breakdown to her sister.
[this is an especially angsty part...TW for mild implication of rape]
------------------
The rest of their breakfast passes without fanfare. After their conversation about love languages, neither feels like diving into particularly deep topics. Mulder spends their meal providing commentary on the songs other customers picked off the jukebox, turning Scully into a captive audience who occasionally nods, chuckles, or otherwise utters a phrase of approval. It’s not that they’re bored of each other, but that they feel they should preserve their energy for the taxing conversations sure to come along with the case. The electricity between them lingers in the air, waiting for a match to spark it. When the waitress asks if they want to split the bill, Mulder gallantly insists that he will take care of it, then pulls out the Bureau credit card with a wink his partner’s way. To Scully, his wink feels like a lighter flaring into flame. A brief moment of blaze, there and then gone again. One day, she swears to herself, one day she will let him ignite her heart. 
Back in the car, they buckle up and reacclimate themselves with 1994. The local country music station hums in the background, too low to make out any lyrics. It’s just a few stoplights to the park, not even long enough to get through an entire song.
They find BJ at a picnic table nestled among Aubrey’s fall colors. She notices them first, waves them over. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Mulder says as he and Scully take a seat across from the detective.
Scully is struck by reality’s intrusion on the version of BJ she met in her nightmare. BJ is not heavily pregnant; she does not even show. She’s not covered in blood either, but looking polished in a pantsuit. Yet the sight of her conjures up vivid images from the dream, ones that Scully hoped would stay hidden in her psyche forever. The resolute darkness of Duane Barry’s eyes, like his soul had been sucked out of him. The way droplets of blood splattered when he pulled BJ by the collar. And the image of her own body, how it had been desecrated and she hadn’t felt a thing. She felt nothing.
“How are you, BJ?” she asks, her voice stiffer than intended.
BJ rests her hands on the wooden table. “I’m okay.” Then-- “I’ve made some decisions.”
Scully nods, not wanting to pry. The three of them sit with the silence. Sometimes this is all you can do. Her courage gathered, BJ looks to Mulder. 
“I don’t know if Agent Scully told you, but I’m pregnant. It’s Tilman’s. It’s made things...complicated.”
“I’m sure,” Mulder replies, not particularly moved by this announcement. 
“I don’t think it will impact the case in any way, but I wanted to be open with you. Staying quiet about it was only making the situation tougher.”
“Well, thanks for sharing.”
Scully shoots Mulder a look, as if to chastise his blase attitude toward BJ’s courage. He doesn’t see it, which makes her feel oddly guilty, like she had talked about him behind his back. 
Across the park, a little girl plays with her dog. They run through a pile of leaves together, and she takes a tumble. 
“Ow!” the girl exclaims loud enough to be heard throughout the park. BJ stands up, her gaze snapping toward the sound. Scully turns, fighting the urge to join BJ. The girl’s mother bends to check the girl for injury and seeing that she’s okay, sets her on her feet. BJ exhales, joins the agents back at the table.
“The mothering instinct,” BJ monologues. “I've been feeling it a lot lately. I used to hate it when my mother hovered over me. I swore I'd never be like her.”
Scully’s throat tightens. She felt the gravitational pull too. I mean, she’s always liked kids, but she’s not sure she would be a good mother and so she’s tried not to think much about it. Certainly her situation is unfavorable for motherhood. What kind of life would it be for a kid to have their mother gone all the time? She knows what it’s like to tuck herself into bed without a goodnight kiss and a bedtime story...to feel like an afterthought in a parent’s life. It made her push herself harder, trying to shed the inadequacy her father must have seen in her. And still she fell short. Is it all in her head, this fledgling maternal instinct? Or is it a sign of changing brain chemistry?
“I think we all feel that way at some point or another,” Mulder says. For a moment, Scully thinks he’s read her mind. She’s about to ask him whether there’s such thing as a paternal instinct when BJ continues on--
“My father was a cop. A good cop. That's all I ever wanted to be. He'd say what we're doing here is nonsense. That you can't solve a crime from a dream.”
Scully is somewhat relieved to know that she’s not alone in failing to measure up to a father’s expectations. This is not the point of the conversation, but this is what her mind latches on to. Her own father felt that the X-Files was a waste of time,, and she could never put into words why the work was so fulfilling to her. It’s not medicine; the results aren’t as obvious. Yet she can’t help but feel like she and Mulder are tuning into a rarely heard frequency, listening to its message, and passing it on. Little by little that will change the world, won’t it?
“Well, I've often felt that dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask,” Mulder offers, rising to meet the gravity of the moment. Scully wonders what question her nightmare was answering. She shudders at the thought.
---------
Her skull feels like it’s being cut in half with a chainsaw, there is no other way to put it. She’s lying stretched out on her motel bed, a washcloth over her eyes, praying the pain away. Migraines aren’t a common occurrence for her, but she recalls all the times her mother would turn off the television, pull the curtains, and lay flush in her recliner in an attempt to ward off the pain. As little as she was, Scully would pull a step stool over to grab a glass from the cabinet, then fill it with water and bring it to her mother like a dog itching for a treat. She’d get a ‘thank you’ from her mom’s quiet, steady voice and sometimes a pat on the head, but nothing she could subsist on. She always wished for a little more to fill the deficit in herself. Now she understood. Pain chips away at your capacity for love.
What had started as a dull roar now felt more like the scream of a banshee. It came on suddenly around 4 while she and Mulder were reviewing the evidence of the 1942 murders. Their day had been pretty slow, one of paperwork and manila folders and bureaucracy. Not a lot of progress on the case. It’s as if her brain weren’t working hard enough, and so decided to punish her by making work impossible. She let on nothing of her plight until the way back to the motel when she leaned her head against the window and Mulder asked if she was okay. She responded nonchalantly, saying it was just a headache, and he in his savior complex offered to stop for Aspirin, but she insisted she had some in her suitcase. She did--a bottle with only two left--and she took them both. So far they’ve done nothing to combat the pain. 
It occurs to her that her ardent desire to avoid coming off as a damsel in distress doesn’t exactly mesh with Mulder’s tendency to be the hero. What is she to make of that? Nothing, not in her current state of mind.
She lies there, wonders if it’s reached a late enough hour to change into her pajamas. She can’t deal with the monotony of the shower tonight, not even if Mulder’s on the other side. She turns, glances at the digital alarm clock. 8:09pm. Certainly that’s appropriate pajama time, right? She can never be sure that Mulder won’t come knocking on her door with a new interpretation of the evidence for her to shoot down or a theory somehow more outlandish than his original. She likes that they keep each other on their toes, but tonight that’s not where she wants to be.
Her head berates her for sitting up. She figures that if that’s wishful thinking, changing clothes will be too, so she lays right back down. She has gotten very used to ending up back where she started.
Seeing as modern medicine is failing her, she decides to try meditation. Missy swears by it, but Scully doesn’t see the benefit of willingly turning off your brain. She can hear her sister now: “It’s not about turning off your brain, it’s about transcending your thoughts and being present with the world.” Since when am I not present with the world, she always wants to reply. She can’t afford not to be present with the world.
But the older sister always has some semblance of sway over the younger one, so Scully closes her eyes and listens to the nothingness of the room around her. Well, it’s not exactly nothing, but nearly so. The mini-fridge, which she doesn’t dare touch even if the bill isn’t her responsibility, hums like it has something to prove. The remaining leaves on the trees in the parking lot rustle with the wind. In the adjacent room, Mulder’s TV is on. She can hear the droning chitter-chatter of sports commentators. Baseball, probably. That’s played in the fall, right?
She slips out of active listening and into mindless musing on her lack of sports expertise. Her father was never a sports junkie himself, but her brothers were. She was often made the referee of their wrestling matches or t-ball games, having been deemed more impartial than Melissa. And yet her understanding of plays and pitches and batting averages never progressed from there. She could name all 206 bones in the body in alphabetical order, but she couldn’t tell you what 3rd down meant. Usually she doesn’t care, but at the moment, this is making her indescribably sad.
Overcome by her isolation, she grabs the phone off hook, dials her own number. Melissa picks up right before it stops ringing.
“Hello?”
“Missy…” she doesn’t know it’s going to happen until she opens her mouth and tears fling themselves down her face.
“Dana, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you safe?” Missy’s voice is concerned but controlled, like a 911 operator. 
“I-I’m okay,” Scully manages, in probably the least convincing delivery ever.
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the motel. Mulder and I are safe, we’re okay,” she stammers. 
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Melissa says with utter calm. 
“My head is pounding, Missy, and I know mom used to get migraines, but I’ve never felt anything like this before--” Her voice catches, a sob slips out. “And I’m scared, Missy. Something’s wrong with me.”
“It sounds like you need medical attention, honey.” Melissa always knows when to slip in a term of endearment. “Can Mulder take you to the hospital?”
“No, no, it’s not like that.” She squeezes her eyes shut, sees stars. She hopes Mulder can’t hear her crying. The embarrassment of hurting is almost worse than the hurt itself. She pulls the bed sheet over her head like some over-dramatic teenager. She wouldn’t be able to look Mulder in the eye if he heard this next part. 
She sniffles. “I’m six days late, and I’m never late, and I can’t be pregnant unless…” She wonders what would happen if she just stopped the sentence there and never spoke of it again. Could she do that? Would Melissa mind? 
She lets the bottom drop out from under her. “...unless they did something to me.” The words are barely audible, she hates to have them on her tongue. Worse still, she’s not even the subject in her own sentence. She’s the object, of course. 
She hears Missy take what she’s deemed “a cleansing breath.” Then--”Can you come home? Tonight, tomorrow morning?”
“I...What would I tell Mulder?” Her tears have stopped flowing, but her brokenness still lives in her voice. 
“Anything. That I locked myself out of the apartment, that it’s mom’s birthday, maybe the truth. That man will listen to whatever you say. He’s not gonna stop you.”
“Well, I have to tell the FBI something.” 
“Say you have a family emergency. Or that you’re experiencing trauma from work-related events. You don’t owe them anything, Dana.”
Scully knows this, but could never operate as if she actually believed it. The FBI is her job, her duty, her choice. How can she be up in arms about something she wished upon herself? 
She takes as deep a breath as the pain in her head will allow. “I’ll fly out tomorrow morning.”
“Call me with the deets before you take off. I’ll pick you up.”
“Okay.” Scully feels a rush of safety, of being held & supported. “Thank you,” she breathes. Missy has saved her from herself.
“You’re welcome. And Dana…?”
“Yes?”
“We’re gonna figure this out. Whatever it is, we’re gonna figure it out.”
Scully flutters her eyelids shut, feels the temptation of tears at the back of them. “I know...Thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Missy echoes. “Get some rest, and try not to worry. I’ll see you in the morning.” 
Scully wonders what gene her sister has that gives her such a distinct ability to say the right thing every time. She wishes she hadn't missed that boat. How much easier would life be? 
She notices that Missy has refused to hang up first. “Goodnight, Missy,” she says into the phone.
“Goodnight, Dana. Sleep well.” Her words are a balm to the soul. 
Scully puts the phone back on the hook, feeling like Missy just put hope back in her vocabulary. Hope or belief? Which is stronger?
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dragonswithjetpacks · 4 years ago
Text
Theurgist
Chapter Three: A Night with the Magistrate
-dragonswithjetpacks
Summary:  Astarion chuckled, pulling another blade of grass from the ground and spinning it between his fingers. There was more to the woman in front of him. From what he had gathered, she had already given more than what she was willing to share. A warlock from Baldur’s Gate with a bag full of books and smirk full of secrets. He may have found decent company  in the most unexpected of places.
Read here on Ao3.
“A temple?” Shadowheart glowered behind her. “Are you sure?”
Ferelith climbed up the debris, her hands rough and hot from touching the hot fleshy walls. She brushed off the soot and looked down at the rubble below. Flames were still rolling, sending ash and smoke through the sky, now growing darker. They would have to find somewhere to camp soon. Which shouldn’t be to difficult considering there was fresh water nearby. Now that they had crossed the remains of the crash, it would be easier to find spot.
“I’m entirely sure,” she finally answered between thoughts, waiting for them to follow her up the path. “The architecture resembled something of the sort. I can’t imagine what other structure would be placed in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like it’s a bakery.”
“The luck we would have if it was,” Astarion sighed.
“Then there must be something in there that could help. Perhaps even shelter.”
Ferelith was partial to the idea. If they made it in time. “Let’s focus on what we can, first. It doesn’t look like we’ll have much-”
Her words drifted off as she stopped on the trail. There was a slight buzzing sound, like energy activating at a source. She turned, watching something flicker across a marking on the stone wall.
“What is it?” Shadowheart inquired as she grew closer.
“That glyph,” Ferelith cocked her head to the side to study it. “Sounds like someone’s using it.”
With a loud crack, a large hole twisting with energy opened against the stone. A wayward glyph, one that could be used to travel quickly. She was familiar with such means for transportation. Shadowheart jumped back, her mace already in hand. Ferelith lifted an arm out, holding her back in case whatever came through was not hostile. Though with the luck they had that day, the likelihood of something else trying to kill her was very high. It was a bit of a relief to find a man walking through to the other side, stepping lightly into the brush next to the path. He took one disbelieving look at Ferelith and gave a warm smile.
“You’re alive,” he said as the light flashed again, dismissing the portal. “That’s unexpected.”
“I’m sorry?” Ferelith approached, inquisitive to the nature of their newly appeared friend.
“Last I saw you, you were lying in a crucible’s worth of blood, an intellect devour nibbling at your ear. Glad to see my eyes deceive me.”
Ferelith shuttered at the thought of one of those walking brains near her head, but was somewhat relaxed by his friendly tone.
“I’m Gale,” he nodded. “Well met.”
“Ferelith,” she continued to watch him carefully, observing his stance. “Well met.”
There was a time in her life she had been surrounded by magic users of excellent caliber. And she had grown used to a certain aura they emitted. It was a mix between arcane energy and arrogance, always aggravating her as it made her feel less superior. Wizards were always assuming their magic was the only the kind that mattered. She was never fond of them. But she always knew one when she saw one. And Gale held his confidence at a level where she could not mistake him as anything but. His robes were even loud.
“You were on the ship, I presume?” she shifted.
“The very same,” he replied. “A traumatizing experience, if an instructive one.”
“An interesting way to put it,” Ferelith couldn’t help but chuckle. “By trauma I’m assuming you mean the worm that was forced into my eye?”
“Yes,” he pointed at her. “The ocular penetration by an illithid tadpole which will-”
There it was. The all knowing ramblings of a man who liked to overshare his intelligence. Typical and common in nearly every wizard she had met. Though, she could think of a few who were humble enough. Mostly those in the abjuration school. They were never that much fun, though. No, Ferelith was more attentive to listen to the words of the necromancers and their theories of the dead. Now they had some interesting thoughts.
“You’re staring at me like a Rashemi at a blackboard,” he said when he realized she was hardly listening. “You’re no wizard, are you?”
“No,” she crossed her arms. “I’m a warlock.”
“There’s a gust of Weave about you, but it’s a mere breeze.” he squinted at her. “I need a tempest. It’ll have to wait. The primary need is a healer. I take it you recall the insertion of the parasite?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Quite vividly.”
“Are you aware that after a period of excruciating gestation, it will turn us into mind flayers? A process known as ceremorphosis?”
“I am aware of that, yes,” she noted the intensity in his voice.
“It is to be avoided,” he said firmly, his eyes shifted from her to the other companions. “I assume you’re no accomplished healer, either? A powerful cleric maybe?”
“It seems you’re out of luck. We’re all in the same predicament as yourself.”
“Well, we’re all in a whole lot of trouble. We need help and I’m not sure where we’ll find any in this wilderness. How about we embark on the quest for a healer together?”
“We have been looking for others,” she glanced back to her other companions. “So I imagine that’s just the plan we had envisioned.”
“Most excellent!” he proclaimed, a bit more excited than she had anticipated. “Then without further ado, let’s be off. Besides, it looks like you keep some interesting company.”
His gaze fell back onto Shadowheart, biting the corner of her lip with a menacing glare.
“A woman with shadows for eyes- deep as the Darklake. A pleasure, madam.”
“Is it, indeed?” she tilted her head with a mocking tone. “We’ll see.”
Astarion snicked, remaining hidden behind the two women. Ferelith looked back to cast a look of disappointment, but it hardly phased him. She turned back to Gale, the wizard with the optimistic grin. He would be useful. And if anything other than, he would at least bring some positive musings to their solemn thoughts. Even if those musings were just the truth spoken in a happy manner.
“We were just headed up the hill to the ruins,” she motioned. “We were looking to see if perhaps there were supplies we could scavenge.”
“The ruins?” he looked in the direction she was pointing. “The old temple, yes.”
Ferelith took another look behind as if her eyes would tell the others that she had been right on her earlier assumption.
“I took a peak during my rounds. Looks like the place is covered with bandits.”
“Which means there’s supplies,” Shadowheart stepped closer.
Ferelith turned to her at her left shoulder. “We’ll have to prepare for a fight.”
“Prepare for a fight? You’re going to raid the bandit camp?” Gale looked at them with surprise.
“It’s them or us,” Shadowheart shrugged.
“We can try to ask nicely, I suppose,” Ferelith smirked. “But something tells me they won’t be willing to share.”
“This is going to interesting,” Astarion smirked, his enthusiasm rising in the two women whom he it seems he had not judged fairly.
“Let’s just assess the situation when we get there,” Gale raised his hands, clearly not anticipating a battle ready party so soon.
“He’s right,” Ferelith came to reason. “We should make camp, first. Somewhere close to the water? I’d like to wash this soot from my face.”
“We should head back, then,” Shadowheart agreed.
“Yes, I think I saw a nice bank to camp on from the cliff side. Shall we?”
With the sun setting and weary bodies, the party had agreed to settle on a flat surface near the river. There was enough sand to make the ground soft. And enough dead wood to create a fire. Gale was gracious enough to provide flames while everyone helped collect wood. There was little they had salvaged from the wreckage, but Ferelith and Shadowheart managed to pull together a few bedrolls from the fishermen they had looted earlier that day. They all pooled their findings together to create a meal of bread, cheese, and two apples. Ferelith was even pleased to find she had a few leaves left in her apron to make tea. If only she had a kettle. Feeling around her waste for her belt, she found the component bag which had remained empty. She placed the leaves inside, deciding there would be another time she would need it.
"So," a voice approaching from behind. "We're resting here? Turning in for the night?"
She stood up to face Astarion who seemed a bit uncomfortable if not distraught. He not only seemed worried, but he was shifting as he stood in front of her. As if he were too embarrassed to say what was honestly on his mind.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, trying to catch his veering glances.
“No, not at all,” he smiled, appearing grateful, but unconvincing.
“It’s nothing what you’re used to in Baldur’s Gate, I’m sure. But it’s a lovely spot.”
Ferelith looked about. It had been a long time since she camped in the wilderness. Truth be told, she would consider it one of the best campsites she had rested in. There may not have been beds or tents, but the sound of the river nearby was calming. There was a waterfall close. A ruin to other side. And a group of rocks and logs to provide seating and shelter.
"I suppose," he said politely, noticing her admiring looks around the scenery. "I'm not sure what I expected, really. This is all a little new."
She couldn't help but feel some satisfaction from his suffering. A noble forced to sleep on the ground. It was nice to have some sort of entertainment for the evening. Still, he appeared not to be completely broken about it. She imagined if he was truly upset about the matter, he would be demanding more bedrolls. And for that, she was somewhat impressed by his humility.
"You mentioned you were from the city as well,” he went on. “The night for us normally means bustling streets... bursting taverns..."
His eyes narrowed a bit, searching her face for a sudden realization. But... there was none. Ferelith had not recalled their run in whatsoever. The illithid must have cleared the memory of his face when he mind controlled her. It made having to explain himself nonexistent. And it made smoothing her over all the more obtainable.
"Curling up in the dirt and resting is... a little novel," he went on with a sigh.
"You're being terribly polite for not having much a choice," she crossed her arms.
Again, he saw the hint of tease in her nature. She was going to be fun. A challenge... but fun... He smiled.
"You expected me to be rude?" he questioned, impersonating someone who was hurt. "No, I won't complain. Not while everything remains unsettled."
"Agreed. Not that I want to hear your complaints. But we should get some rest so we can catch up on that unsettled business in the morning."
"I'm in no place to rest yet," he raised his brow. "Today has been... a lot. I need some time to think things through. To process this. You rest. I'll keep watch."
There was something ominous about the idea of resting in the midst of three complete strangers. Her perception had not failed her yet, but it seemed odd to put her life in the hands of someone who had tried to stab her just hours before.
“I’m afraid I won’t be needing much rest,” she stated. “Besides, I’m not so eager to completely trust any of you just yet.”
There was a pause as the two elves stared at one another, as if two predators had spotted each other from across an empty field. It created a tension that could crack the moment it was disturbed. Or could wither away with a simple word. Astarion plotted his next statement carefully, as he knew if he went about it the wrong way, she would never learn to trust him at all.
"You know,” he leaned forward, “if you wanted to spend time with me, you only have to say so."
The drop in his tone during the last few words caused Ferelith's expression to drop. In most occasions, she did very well to conceal her emotions. But the audacity of this man was enough to change that. The familiar flutter in her chest had returned. And she was not so willing to bury it this time. Her jaw had nearly dropped open, but the long pause gave her away.
"But suit yourself," Astarion said smugly. "I'm sure we'll drift off at some point."
"Yes, well," she closed her mouth and shook her head, looking down into her book. "I've got work to do... with this..."
"Good evening, then," he gave a slight nod before he sauntered back across the fire.
As she rummaged through notes she had written that day and the small black leather book she clung to tightly, she couldn't help but feel she was circling back to an unanswered question. There was still no word from her patron. She was lucky she could even still feel him. And as the night grew quieter, she could hear the feint whispers in the back of her head. They were only causing more distractions. As if the occasional on looking eyes were not enough. Looking up from her book, she glanced to Astarion, picking grass and throwing it to the fire. They really were the only ones awake. Then again, they were the only ones who did not need to sleep.
"Is there something you need?" he asked, catching her staring.
"No," she replied, looking back down to her book.
“You look like you need a break,” he suggested, crossing his legs.
Ferelith sat up, stretching her lower back as she pushed her chest out. “What is it they say? No rest for the wicked?”
Astarion chuckled, pulling another blade of grass from the ground and spinning it between his fingers. There was more to the woman in front of him. From what he had gathered, she had already given more than what she was willing to share. A warlock from Baldur’s Gate with a bag full of books and smirk full of secrets. He may have found decent company in the most unexpected of places.
“If that’s the case, you and I have a long night ahead of us.”
“Long nights never bothered me,” she placed her hands on her lap. “What about you? What were your long nights like back in Baldur’s Gate? Other than those bursting taverns.”
He felt a tightening in his chest at there may have been a hint of recognition. “There were nights spent outside of taverns.”
“I see,” she nodded at his quick dismissal. “Likely filled with entertainers and wine, then.”
“Not always,” he shrugged, picking the grass apart just as he did the one before. “Some nights were spent studying. Much like yourself.”
“A scholar,” she shook her head in jest.
“A magistrate,” he corrected. “It was all rather tedious.”
“Oh,” she brought a hand to her chest. “Excuse me, then. I must apologize. I didn’t realize I was in the company of someone so formal.”
Astarion sneered from across the fire, remembering that she had been in the upper district when they crossed paths. “You know,” he inhaled, holding his breath for a moment while he contemplated her remark. “Something tells me you’re not so humble, yourself.”
“I’m quite proud of my work,” she blinked. “And I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“You carry yourself with a strange sense of power,” he glared at her now, as if he were searching beyond what her face would show. “Something greater than pride. You wouldn’t happen to be familiar with the nobility of Baldur’s Gate, would you?”
Her heart sunk as her mind began to search her memories for his face. There were none. She was certain she had never met this man before. But his in-sinuous tone told her otherwise. If he was asking, it only meant he was unsure of himself. And if she gave him the answer he desired, it would mean she was admitting to something she was not certain she was guilty of. Whatever the case, she remained firm in her decision to remain as unapproachable as possible.
“I can’t say that I am,” she lied.
“That’s disappointing,” he threw the rest of what was left in his hand into the flames. “You seem like someone I would have acquainted myself with.”
A commendation cloaking the questions of an obvious interrogator. She knew the tactic and dismissed it, taking it only as a backhanded compliment. Turning her attention back to work to ignore his presence, she began to scratch more useless notes across the paper. Anything to keep her from talking to him further. Her heart began to pound against her chest. And again, she tried to recall the memories of Baldur’s Gate. Even as far back as her time in Neverwinter. But not a thought was found for a handsome white haired magistrate. She was sure she would have noticed.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said softly when she had been quiet for a few minutes. “These are strange times and I find myself in need of… a friend.”
Ferelith couldn’t help but feel he was looking in the wrong the direction. Still, she looked up with interest to find he had rose to his feet, towering over the flames and looking down at her.
“Those are not so easily acquired,” she retorted.
“Weeeell,” there was a shift in his brow, “if you ever warm up to the idea, I’ll be here. For now, I think I’ll take my leave to admire the night. I’m growing ever more anxious for the sun to rise.”
Ferelith said not a word as he strode off toward the ruin. She watched as he hesitated crossing the log, but found his footing to be rather graceful as he strut across it. He was being very careful. Not just about the river, but about how he was speaking to her. There were too many blank spaces that she could fill detailing what he could be hiding from her. That, of course, was also due to her the charade of what she was keeping to herself. And with that distracting her from any more work, she shut her book with the conclusion that she needed rest more than she needed answers. She was anxious now, as well.
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lances-wormhole · 4 years ago
Text
More Than Any Title, I Love You (Fraxus One-Shot)
Read on Ao3 here
Please leave a kudos on there if you have the time : ) But I’d also really appreciate a like and reblog on here!
(Not Beta-Read)
***
Freed ignored the mud that splattered against his boots as he paced back and forth in the heavy rain. He was alone. Or rather, he kept telling himself he was alone just so he could save his heart from the unpleasant feeling of someone else hiding and watching him when he wasn’t aware.
Now, everyone gets the gist. This job was “different from typical jobs”. Every member of the guild has probably heard those words a billion times before… so many times. But this time it is painfully true.
Laxus Dreyar asked Freed to go with him alone, so he went along with a severe lack of questioning… And now here he is, standing in the mud, soaking wet, with only one question now on his mind:
Where is Laxus?
Freed didn’t fear many things outside the typical “I hope my friends are alright” mentality that seemed to be strikingly popular amongst the wizards of Fairy Tail. And you could say that maybe, just maybe that sense of protectiveness peaked around the Raijinshu… and, according to Bickslow, it especially showed when Laxus was involved. Freed couldn’t quite help that. The large lighting mage had a knack for getting himself into tricky situations. He found that he had no choice but to always be by Laxus’s side to get him out of it… Not like he minded being near him anyway.
Grunting, Freed pushed his sopping wet bangs out of his face, squinting across the field in lookout for the missing wizard.
“Laxus!” He called uselessly, shivering slightly. “Laxus! You’re out there somewhere, I know it!”
No reply.
Freed frowned, rubbing his hands against his arms as he slowly spun in a circle. He could feel his heartbeat steadily picking up his pace because of all the what ifs floating around in his brain.
“The storm is picking up!” He continued, one hand drifting down toward his sword. “We should call it a day and head back towards the hotel! Laxus!”
Again, no reply.
Furrowing his eyebrows, Freed unsheathed his sword and pointed it down to the ground. Trying to think around his panic, he attempted to cast some sort of rune that might be able to help him get in contact with his team mate. But before he could complete it, a loud crack of lightning flashed off somewhere towards his right, into the woods.
“Laxus?” Freed gulped, pushing back his wet bangs again as his gaze darted around the area. Without a second thought, he found his feet already running off towards where the lightning had striked, ignoring the buzz of electricity and static in the air.
Breathing heavily, Freed could tell he was starting to lose any sense of composure he may have left. But the mere thought of just finding Laxus, not completing their job, and going back to their hotel rooms where it is safe was just oh so compelling… he couldn’t even think of anything else.
Coming to a stop where the lighting striked, Freed could feel the static in the air causing the loose strands of his hair to rise to the sky. It was a familiar feeling. Whenever Laxus got too worked up, he would emit electricity ever so slightly into the air around him. And Freed, often being at his side, had slowly grown accustomed to it.
“Laxus…” Freed called, stalking into the woods cautiously, “Please.”
The Rune Mage could feel his throat start to squeeze, every ounce of emotion starting to bud at his eyes.
“I don’t…” He clenched his hand tightly against his sword, “I don’t know what you were thinking. Just bringing you and myself out on this quest. You can really be a big idiot sometimes.”
He expected to hear Laxus’s all too familiar disgruntled grunt, but all that could be heard was the continuous patter of rain against the leaves.
“I know you enjoy taking charge. I know you think you're strong enough to do these jobs on your own…” Freed spoke, an unwanted hiccup escaping his lips. This wasn’t like him at all. “But please. I can’t take it when you get hurt more than you’ve been. I’ve seen you suffer and I don’t want to see it anymore.”
He couldn’t help the tears that began to roll down his cheeks. If anyone else were here he would excuse it as rain.
“I could never live with myself if you were to be suffering more without me around to be with you.” He sobbed, body shivering from the overflow of emotion and the freezing rain. “Laxus—”
Another loud crash of lightning boomed from nearby, so close that Freed had to take cover, shielding his head with his arms.
Breathing heavily, Freed anxiously surveyed the area before running off where the lighting had struck.
“Laxus!” He shouted, nearing a mass of rock and rubble. “Are you—”
A low mumble from the wreckage interrupted his question. Overwhelmed, it took Freed a second to process before finally spotting a torn piece of Laxus’s jacket wedged in between a few rocks.
“Hold on.” Freed said seriously now, wiping away his tears as he neared the rocks, but before he could get further, a wall of runes blocked his path, surrounding the entirety of the scene. “Ah…”
Composing himself, Freed quickly dispelled the runes, keeping a mental note of the style and formation of the spell for later aid in the job, and hurried over to where Laxus was buried.
“Can you hear me?” He asked, already tugging the large rocks off and throwing them behind him with little care or attention. “Are you hurt? What happened? Why aren't you speaking?”
“Give me a second to explain myself and I will.” Laxus finally said, weakly pushing the final boulder away from himself.
Freed looked down at the lighting mage with a glare, whilst simultaneously looking over his body for any injuries. Fortunately nothing too serious, but he couldn’t miss the obvious signs of magic drainage. “Go on.” He urged impatiently.
Laxus watched him for a moment, noting the redness in the whites of his teammate’s eyes… however he chose to ignore that for now in the matter of current circumstances. “Firstly… I'm sorry for leaving you behind. It must be an undying habit of mine to go off and do things on my own.”
Freed clenched his jaw but stayed silent so Laxus could continue.
“I chased after what I thought was one of our targets. I remembered hearing something about a rune mage, that's initially why I thought to bring you along I guess. But I guess it didn’t cross my mind that he was a trickster like you and probably set a trap.” Laxus sighed, patting a rock that sat beside him. “The runes were slowly draining my magic energy. On top of that, a stupid second thief trapped me down here the minute I let loose that first lighting strike. He must’ve caught on that I was trying to lure someone over… that being you.”
“An idiot you are for using such large blasts.” Freed scolded, his hand subconsciously moving to cup Laxus’s cheek, letting his thumbs brush over the dark circles beneath his eyes. “I would have known it was you with the smallest sliver of lighting.”
“You would,” Laxus agreed, watching Freed with amusement. “I’m as much an idiot as you are reliable it seems.”
***
Getting back to the hotel, Freed forced Laxus to promise that they’ll postpone their raid on their targets until he had properly regained his lost stamina. Although the job requester didn’t seem too happy with the news, all it took was for Freed to give a dark, haunting glare, and they were well on their way.
After compelling Laxus into taking a bath, Freed immediately got to work cleaning and patching up the lighting mage’s wounds.
“Back in the forest,” he started, spreading ointment generously onto Laxus’s collar bone, “You said you thought of me initially. That makes me assume the reason changed.”
He was greeted by silence at the theory.
Looking up and away from the wound, he noticed that Laxus was looking away towards the window with an odd expression on his face. “Laxus? Is there another reason you brought me, and left without Ever or Bickslow?”
Freed watched as Laxus’s facial expressions flowed between different emotions before landing on one that could only be described as a calm dedication.
“Since the war ended, I’ve found myself talking to the old man more. Both of our run-ins with near deaths helped us mend whatever crack in our bond we still had.” Laxus closed his eyes for a second, thinking over his words. “He started to talk about seriously stepping down… wasting no mercy in saying that he was deciding between Erza, Mirajane, and… me.”
Freed’s eyes widened at the reveal, forgetting about the wound he was treating. “That’s… wow… But that doesn’t explain why you brought me.”
Laxus shook his head weakly against his pillow before continuing with his story, ignoring Free’s statement for the time being. “I thought he was crazy to think of me. After everything I’ve done. My selfishness in the past... But he didn’t give me a chance to argue. And he left to go think about his decision.”
He paused for a moment, nibbling at his lower lip.
“Since then I started thinking over and over about what the future had in store for me. If I were the guild master, I couldn’t imagine what I would do. All those past thoughts of ruling and taking control… it's all so… undesirable to me now. But I know that if he picked me, I would never say no to him. So I just had to figure out how I felt. I knew that once I became guild master I wouldn’t be able to go out on these missions with you or the Raijinshu as much as I like to. Maybe not ever since our guild is rather… crazy.” He chuckled, looking up at Freed now who was watching him with such pride and adoration. “Evergreen urged me to take this job with you… alone. Originally it was going to be the four of us as usual but she turned it down and promised that you alone would give me the answer.”
Freed couldn’t help the blush rising to his cheeks at the sentiment. “Answer?”
“I needed a reason to decline his offer. Straight up. Before he could even say anything to anyone. I… I planned on this job going much easier. I lost sight of my purpose here in the first place really.” Laxus huffed out a laugh, his eyes never leaving his partner’s. “But the way you found me, dispelled those runes, patched me up and ordered me to take care of myself. The way you look at me, Freed, I am so fucking helpless.”
Freed gripped onto the bed sheets, lower lip quivering despite his efforts to remain stoic.
“Even though I have a habit for getting myself into this idiotic situations ending in me usually getting hurt, I would still miss it so much if I can’t just be out here doing jobs with you. I know as a guild master I’ll always be able to see you but I’d never see you in action when I want to.” Laxus spoke softly, moving his hand to rest on top of Freed’s shaky ones. “I don’t want to lose any time I have to watch you conquer the way you do. I’m afraid that I love that too much to lose to paperwork and meetings.”
Laxus watched as Freed started to move closer, and in turn he slowly started to rise from his pillow to match the other’s movements.”
“I love you more than any responsibility and title I ever thought I wanted. I love you.” He spoke quickly before colliding with Freed, cradling his jaw in his hands as he pressed a fiery, yearning kiss against the other’s lips.
“I love you too,” Freed whispered, smiling against the other’s lips as he leaned over him from his forgotten seat beside the bed. “I love you so much.”
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touchmycoat · 3 years ago
Note
HX/LQG!anon: oh, Ella!LQG just pings my kinky heart - he's SURE HX is just messing with him, but there's just a tiny bit of his brain that says, but what if he really needs it? And he just. Wants. He wants to give HX what he needs. And there's that other bit of him that just feels really really good doing what HX tells him to do, a weapon put in good hands. LQG is all-in/ ride or die if he trusts (loves) someone, even if he tries to pretend that's not happening. (Such sub energy!!)
p.s. First David and Second David???????!!!!!! *SCREAMS* I HAVE TOO MANY FEELS! Talk about emotional whump... *bites nails in anticipation*
--
YES YES YES YES AAAAAAHHHHH lqg honestly wants to be the weapon SO bad, just do as he's told because he knows he's in trusted hands. SUB!LQG IS YUMMIEST LQG. And He Xuan, well, he thrives off of control, that much is obvious. Not to be cliche but I want them to do every single con that involves He Xuan coming in and posing as LQG's debtor or employer or owner in some way, and at some point he just impatiently beckons LQG over, asks LQG why the job's all screwed up, and backhands LQG. LQG murmurs a "sorry sir" with no prompting at all, and HX nods, satisfied, before returning to the job.
BABE. BABE. I ALL OF A SUDDEN REMEMBERED NATE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A CATHOLIC PRIEST. WAS THAT WERE HX WAS HEADED?? NOT CATHOLICISM BUT DEVOUT DAOIST SCHOLAR, MAYBE HISTORIAN??
(then HX's entire backstory got a revamp so warning, this got super fucking long)
Like, he and his sweetheart got engaged during undergrad, and for HX's last year he got this huge grant to travel to China to do his research on, I dunno, the original sutras that brought buddhism to the mainland and the daoist sociopolitical interests that propelled the translations. His fiancee makes a joke about how he's like Tang Sanzang from Journey to the West, but will he be okay all by himself, all the demons out there wanna eat his flesh y'know. HX laughs it off and goes—but it's during this time that SWD's entire shit strikes. It's probably a real estate thing to begin with—HX's dad's little Chinese diner refuses to sell to the rich corporate developers. They send people to smash things up, and the first time dad gets hospitalized HX tries to come home, but his mother convinces him to stay put, bc she's heard the real estate developers have some internal issues and are going down.
Sure enough, the company does, and the Hes thought it was over. HX reluctantly stays in China bc they really do have so much money riding on this, but a little while later, he hears about his baby sister falling sick. He and his mother argue for a period of time, but in the end it's HX's father's sudden death—complications due to his injuries from before—that makes his decision for him. So HX drops the research grant, comes home, realizes it wasn't just his sister sick, it was his mother as well, and takes academic leave to take care of his mother and sister.
But he realizes something's wrong. He's already pretty clever, and through mild grifting figures out there's something hinky with the whole "real estate company going down" thing. At the same time, this guy who just calls himself the Reverend shows up, and tells him look, you seem pretty desperate. Your family's sick, you're working yourself to the bones just trying to keep getting them treatment, you'll probably never return to school. But how about you come work for me?
HX puts on a damn good show. He pretends to refuse at first, forcing the Reverend to show him more and more of the business they got running. Then he "accepts" the Reverend's jobs, but tips off the people who were supposed to be the victims, and has them escape or resolve the situation in ways that wouldn't reveal it was HX behind it all. But it was all just a matter of time, of course, and he wasn't trying to trick the Reverend for the longterm, he was just trying to ferret out the people behind the Reverend. Why did they want HX's dad's shop badly enough to kill him, and why do they keep sending goons to smash up the storefront every time HX tries to clean it up?
Meanwhile, his fiancee, who's always helped out at the diner, is getting sick too. That's how HX put the pieces together, that it's...something like radiation poisoning (gotta figure out the deets),, and the real estate situation was an entanglement of coverups to hide what was probably improper waste disposal way back when.
Some good news though—there's a treatment being offered through a special program at the hospital for the thing HX's mom and sister are sick with, and its rep? A bubbly young corporate heiress out to perform some philanthropy, Shi Qingxuan. SQX befriends HX's fiancee first, and after learning about HX's situation, she prepares a whole grant application to the parent medical insurance company, says if it goes through HX wouldn't have to pay a dime. HX's naturally skeptical, but SQX is like "don't worry, I know people high up, wink wink"
But halfway through this the Reverend figures out HX is compiling evidence. Instead of confronting him straight, they want to tie HX down as an accomplice instead, so they send him on another "job" that's totally a set-up. HX's clever and figures it out, sends people packing, and in the end confronts the Reverend like, "the state police are coming, I have evidence and testimony to your crimes, you're going down."
But then the Reverend goes ahead and says, "good job then, you wanna keep patting yourself on the back or go see your mom and sister for the last time?" And plays for him a message from the hospital about his mother and sister's situations suddenly worsening. HX knows this is their doing, but what else can he do? He rushes to the hospital, and finds his fiancee weeping, SQX trying to comfort her. HX's mom and sister are already dead.
At this point, there are strains and fractures in HX's relationship with his fiancee, because of course there is—they're both still so fucking young. Miao-er had wanted to go on academic leave too, but HX refused, saying one of them needs to graduate college at least. The Hes are paying for her tuition anyways, and he kind of strong-arms her into continuing her education. Then he started taking the jobs for the Reverend, and Miao-er knows it's bad news because she sees the way HX's going kind of dark-sided. She always tries to bring him out of his funk, with varying levels of success, but she also kind of wishes he would just stay, and be there, and make this simple instead of diving into what kind of looks like a crazy conspiracy theory.
So here, that confrontation happens. The Reverend had given HX a gun for the set-up job from before, and HX turns right back around at the hospital room and goes to kill the Reverend. Miao-er tries to stop him, finds out he has a gun, is like jesus shit what the fuck dude, SQX's in the background trying to calm things down. HX ends up storming off anyways, and Miao-er is crying. SQX gets a little pissed off too and runs after HX to tell HX that Miao-er needs treatment too. She's really, really sorry that HX's mom and sister didn't make it in time, but the case went through for Miao-er, she can get the full course of treatment with all costs covered, and if HX storms off for revenge right now and gets caught, that means Miao-er gets left completely on her own, you know? The Hes are basically her adopted family, she doesn't have anyone else here in the States, and she just needs HX, please, calm down.
HX listens, manages to calm down, but when they go back, Miao-er's gone. Figuring she just needs time to deal with things herself, HX makes arrangements for his mom and sister's bodies. SQX continues to keep him company, and when she learns about the Reverend, she brings all her personal lawyers to help out. Together, they successfully resolve the entire Reverend ordeal. The Reverend goes down for everything, from the initial improper waste disposal to the real estate situation to getting HX's entire family killed. HX gets a payout, and wonders what to do next.
But then, Miao-er never came back. HX gets all tense and intense about searching again, but then SQX hesitantly informs him that according to the medical grant, Miao-er is currently receiving the full course of treatment. As for where, she's not at liberty to say, but, well, it kind of looks like she's just avoiding him? Maybe he should give her time?
Then HX gets smacked with an insane amount of student debt, both his and his fiancee's, which made no sense, unless Miao-er had cashed out the year's tuition that the Hes gave her and paid for school with a loan instead? And Miao-er continues to be gone, not answering any of HX's calls, and it just doesn't seem like something she would do but over time, HX doesn't know anymore. In the span of months, he's lost everybody, and the only person who still gave a damn enough to check up on him all the time, no matter how much of a bastard he is, is SQX.
Then SQX tells him her brother is hiring. "Look, we're an insurance company, we need case investigators. Normally they only hire out of prestigious schools but I can vouch for you, alright? I've seen what you can do. Take the job, pay off all these debts, smooth things out, and see where to go from there."
HX listens. He works under SWD and becomes the firm's top investigator. He pays off his debts, helps out his neighbors with zoning shit, and somewhere along the line starts dating SQX. SQX loves loves loves him, and keeps proposing to him ("but hahaha no pressure only if you really want, because I really want, like, spice girls really really want"), so finally, HX accepts.
Soon after their engagement though, HX suddenly gets a call. It's an unknown number, but he recognized the voice immediately. It's Miao-er.
She's crying, she sounds weak, she says she's sorry, so sorry, she let them lie to her for so long, that she never should have trusted them. She says he's been right all along, that there's been a cover-up, and now they're going to kill her for it—
The line goes dead. HX doesn't really remember how, but he loses consciousness. When he wakes up again it's to SQX telling him the doctors said he had a panic attack.
HX's brain puts the pieces together faster than he's really aware, and he has a fist in SQX's collar. He asks her where Miao-er is, what she knows, what happened to the treatment payments, did SQX lie to him about Miao-er taking—
But SWD's also there. They're staying at the Shi mansion, post-engagement. SWD pulls him away from SQX and has security take him down. SQX tries to protest, says HX's not feeling well. HX just keeps demanding to know where Miao-er is, and SWD just coolly opens HX's phone, shows him he hadn't received any calls, and basically calls off the engagement, gaslighting HX into thinking he's had a psychotic break triggered by the engagement to SQX.
Everything goes downhill from there. HX knows what he heard, and knows if something really did happen to Miao-er, then SQX must have had something to do with it. Their relationship completely falls apart, SWD fires him, and HX leaves a complete and utter mess. He drinks himself stupid, lives out of his car, sells his car, and ends up running in the dark side of town, where he mostly just wants to be left alone, but ends up making a name for himself anyways as someone immensely powerful and dangerous.
Then he meets Xie Lian. Everything kicks off again from there.
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