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void-wolfie · 3 months ago

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I Can't Live Without You

summary: you and Jenna get into a fight, you get into a car crash before you can make amends [request]

pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

tw: swearing, arguments, drinking, a car crash (i'm probably missing something so let me know if i need to add anything)

words: 2.33k

a/n: one of my longest posts yet, sorry it took me so long to get to this request and even longer to post it. anyway, enjoy the angst :)

You stood there, frozen in place, watching the pair through the windows of the coffee shop. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them.

His hand was up her thigh, shoulders brushing with every passing word, her smile brighter than all the stars in the midnight sky. But that’s not what held your attention. No. The thing that held your attention the most, was the kiss.

You had no right to be jealous, it’s not like you were dating her. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

You liked Jenna, you really did… maybe even loved her… And you thought, or at least hoped, maybe she liked you back. But the scene in front of you told a very different story.

The couple sat towards the back of the café in a small corner booth, just against the windows. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed them if you weren’t about to head into the shop yourself. And yet, there they were. Hidden away like two lovers on a secret rendezvous.

You backed away, back in the direction you came from. You had plans for today, but those could wait. Right now, you needed to get away… anywhere far away from that.

Jenna saw you. She saw you turn and walk off in the other direction. There was something about the way you stormed off that caught her attention, it put a knot in her stomach.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

You wiped your eyes, hoping no one would notice if they saw you. You hated crying; it made you feel weak.

You patted down your pockets, looking for your car keys. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find them, and it took even less to unlock the car door.

“What’s wrong?”

Of course… You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole right then and there.

You didn’t want to talk to her, not after what you just saw.

“Not now, Jenna. Please.”

You didn’t turn around, keeping yourself facing towards the car. You didn’t want to see her, and you sure as hell didn’t want her to see you like this.

Jenna was taken aback. You told her everything. When something was wrong, you’d always go to her first. And now you were pushing her away? She couldn’t understand it.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the empty parking lot. Gravel crunched under Jenna’s feet as she got closer. You didn’t move though, you refused to let her see you like this.

“Seriously, Jenna, I’m not in the mood.” You tried again to get her to go away. But her footsteps didn’t falter or change course… Nope, Jenna was going to give you a piece of her mind, whether you liked it or not.

You wiped your eyes again and took a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together. You didn’t want her to notice what a mess you were… Not like it would matter though, Jenna noticed everything.

Her footsteps stopped next to you. You could feel her eyes boring into you, her concern practically radiating off her. You didn’t budge though. You couldn’t. It almost seemed like the closer she got the faster your tears fell.

“Hey, talk to me. Whatever’s wrong, maybe I can help…”

Fuck… You hated the world. You hated yourself, you hated that boy, you hated everything. Everything but her… How do you even tell your best friend, the girl you’re in love with, that the reason your entire world is falling apart is because of her? She was your everything, and she destroyed you.

But worst of all, she didn’t even know it.

You still had your eyes closed, praying that by some miracle she would go away.

She reached out to hold your hand, anything to try and comfort you. But you pulled away.

Jenna tried to ignore the pain in her chest as you pulled away, the feeling of your fingertips slipping past hers was almost foreign. She knew you were hurting, but it didn’t make the ache in her own heart go away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to tell her it was all just a big misunderstanding, that you were fine. But you couldn’t. Instead, more tears fell.

Jenna would never be yours. Never anything more than a friend… The longer the two of you stood there the more the realization crushed you.

“No, Jenna. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The words came out soft, muffled by the air caught in your throat and the weight of the world slowly suffocating you.

“Then what’s wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?” She was getting frustrated now, evident by the tension in her voice and her rising volume.

“Because I can’t!” You snapped, “Because for fucking once, you’re the only person I can’t tell!”

“Why not?!”

“Because it’s not your fucking problem!”

The second the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You didn’t mean it.

You never thought you could see someone’s heart break. You always thought that was the stuff of movies and shows. And yet, that’s exactly what you saw looking at Jenna. You saw her heart shatter. You could see the tears welling in her eyes, her hands looked like they were shaking, and her face twisted in anger and hurt. She seemed…

broken.

“Sorry I even bothered then.”

You didn’t even have time to interject before she turned on her heel and stormed off. And even if you did, you weren’t sure you would’ve said anything anyway. What do you say to fix a broken heart? What do you say when your own heart is crumbling to pieces?

You finally got into your car, practically throwing yourself into the driver’s seat.

You took a second to breathe and digest whatever the hell just happened.

You ruined it. You just ruined the only relationship that ever mattered to you…

fuck.

You slammed your hand against the steering wheel. You did it again and again and again, beating the crap out of the poor thing. You kept going till your hand was purple and blue and all the anger had finally faded away. All that remained was your shattered soul and bruised hand.

You’d give anything to take back what just happened…

You stumbled out of the bar door, your eyes struggling to adjust to the pitch-black sky after sitting under the tavern lights for so long.

After your fight with Jenna you decided to turn to the best distraction you could think of; crawling into the bottom of a bottle. All things considered; you’ve been worse off. You weren’t seeing double yet and you hadn’t fallen on your face. Both of which were good things considering how much you had to drink.

You fumbled for your keys, dropping them as you pulled them from your pocket. You bent over to pick them up, your stomach churning as you did so. You heaved, silently begging your body not to barf. It churned again. You nearly lost it, but the feeling seemed to pass as quickly as it appeared.

You looked down at the keys in your hand, quickly shoving them back into your pocket. If the way you nearly puked two seconds ago told you anything it was that you were too drunk to drive home.

You pulled out your phone, trying to think of someone who’d be willing to drive you home this late at night. You clicked the first contact you could think of.

You listened to the dial tone. Once, twice, three rings. Then to voicemail. You didn’t bother leaving a message, instead hanging up. It was crazy to think she’d pick up anyway.

You clicked a different contact, your brother. Once again, it rang only to go to voicemail. You tried your sister, but once again, no answer.

You looked over at your car, contemplating just how drunk you were. Your house wasn't that far away, maybe you could drive?

No. It wasn't worth the risk. You only lived a few blocks away, you could walk. You weren’t gonna be one of those idiots on the news who got a hundred years in prison for killing someone because they drove home drunk.

You headed towards the street, making sure to keep on the sidewalk. You didn’t want to stumble into the road like some drunk idiot, even if there weren’t any cars around. You decided to put on some soft music while you walked, the quiet beginning to make you uncomfortable.

Somewhere behind you could hear the rumble of a car. It was getting close and fast… definitely too fast to be safe. You turned behind you to try and get a look at the car, only to be met with bright headlights right in your eyes. It almost seemed like they were swerving but it was too hard to tell.

“Hello?” Jenna answered the phone with a sigh.

She’d been halfway through pouring herself yet another glass of white wine when her phone started to ring. She was just going to ignore it, but it kept ringing. Eventually, she decided to pick it up and tell whoever it was to call back tomorrow.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the fight from earlier. In fact, it was all she could think about all day. And the more she thought about it the more her chest ached. And the more her chest ached, the more wine she found herself pouring.

“Jenna! Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay?” It was her mom; she seemed worried, frantic even. She wasn’t sure why she was so worked up, but it couldn’t have been good.

“Yeah, mom, I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

There was a pause. A moment of silence. The tension that seeped into the air sent chills down Jenna’s spine.

“Mom?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Now she was even more confused. Did something happen? “You’re scaring me, Mom. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, hun. I was worried, I thought you might’ve been with her when it happened and- ”

“With who? What happened?”

“Oh,” she could hear her mom’s voice cracking from the other side of the phone, it only made her more worried, “Sweetheart… There was an accident, a bad one.” Her mom didn’t need to say your name, Jenna already knew exactly who she was talking about.

Her mom kept rambling, but she was hardly listening. Jenna made out some words; drunk driver, life support, critical condition… but all she could think about was you.

“What hospital?” Jenna interrupted. She loved her mom, but the conversation at hand was far from her mind. She needed to see you, she needed to know you were going to be okay. You had to be okay… she wasn’t sure what she would even do if you weren’t.

“The hospital just off of thirteenth street-”

“What floor?”

“The ICU-”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” She didn’t care how many stoplights she had to run or what laws she had to break. She’d be there in fifteen minutes, damn the consequences.

Before her mom could get another word in, Jenna hung up the phone.

True to her word it only took her fifteen minutes to get to the hospital, a feat which should’ve been nearly impossible given how far away she lived.

Jenna ran up to the nurse’s station, frantic and out of breath, “Where’s-”

Before she could finish her question alarms started blaring. Rapid beeping shot out from the computers, lights began flashing outside one of the rooms, everyone jumped out of their seats. All Jenna could comprehend from the chaos was ‘Code Blue’ and ‘Room 143’.

She watched the nurses rush down the hall towards the flashing lights, she noted doctors and other nurses rushing towards the same room as well. One of the nurses closed the blinds while another closed the door to keep the family from watching from the hall.

It took a few seconds before she realized she recognized the family. She noted your brother, looking pale and emotionless. Your mother, tears streaming down her eyes and holding onto your sister, who was crying herself, for dear life.

The alarms, your family, the term ‘Code Blue’… the realization of what was happening hit Jenna like a freight train.

“No…” Jenna didn’t want to believe it, she couldn’t. “No… No, no, no, no -”

Her legs were carrying her before she even realized what she was doing, her body acting off instinct.

She nearly tripped as a pair of arms latched onto her, holding her back from storming into the room. She tried pushing the arms off, her sights still set on the door in front of her, but it was pointless. Whoever had her wasn’t letting go.

Tears clouded her vision, but she could hear the doctors inside your room clearly; demanding voices talking about drugs and techniques, the sound of the defibrillator going, different nurses and doctors all talking over one another.

She needed you to be okay. You had to be okay.

Then, just as quickly as it all started, everything went quiet.

Jenna’s pleading had stopped, lost to her hoarse voice and sobbing cries. The doctors had all gone quiet, there was no more talk of treatments or drugs. The familiar tones of the defibrillator had stopped, no more sounds from charging or discharging. All that remained were the normal sounds of a busy hospital.

The loudest sound of all though, was the one sound that was missing. Your hospital monitor had gone silent, most likely turned off by one of the doctors or nurses. No alarms, no ticks or beeps, just cold steady silence.

“Time of death, twenty-three fifty-seven.”

Jenna heard one of the doctors say it, almost as clear as day. She never thought one little sentence could hurt her so bad, and yet, having her heart ripped from her chest would’ve been less painful.

You were gone.

Not just gone…

Dead.

#void-wolfie #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega

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snippetsnitch · 3 years ago

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(The post many people were waiting for! 😄 This time, I even managed to do it somehow close to Christmas, so I hope this snippet lifts your spirits for the cold season! 🥳🖤 You can find the link to part one underneath! 💫)

#7 - Cold (part 2)

(❗TW: Mentioned past torture❗)

[Hero] was fairly sure they had comitted at least a sub-category of high treason, when they had picked up [Villain] from the snowy streets.

God.

They would betray the internal law, their colleagues and - that was by far the worst factor - their boss, if they followed through with their impulsive plan. [Hero] could only imagine the turmoil that was about to happen, if anyone found out that they were coddling up one of the most wanted criminals in their cheap apartment; not to achieve anything business-related, but to save their fucking life.

Well, there certainly was no return now. [Hero] had made their decision and now they would face the consequences of it.

In for a penny, in for a pound, they say.

"Oh, man...", [Hero] sighed and took a look at their unexpected guest:

[Villain] was still unconscious. After passing out in the streets, their breathing had become even more shallow than it had been before. It wasn't surprising, though: Three of their ribs had been broken and now failed to stabilize their lungs. With their lack of medical equipment, [Hero] could only hope that there was no internal bleeding. Luckily, the other wounds were not as severe: Either small lacerations, bruises or frostbites. [Villains] nose was a different story, but it wasn't as urgent and also not something [Hero] could handle without professional help.

What worried them most, was the hypothermia.

They had not dared to move their nemesis too much after carrying them into their flat, not willing to risk that [Villains] cold blood spread even further into their ragged body. Cautiously, [Hero] had cut off the criminals' outfit (which looked like it was worth more than [Hero] made in a month) to wrap them in every single blanket they could find.

[Hero] had tried to look away when they had removed the clammy clothes: It was wrong to invade [Villains] privacy like this, even if it was necessary to get access to the wounds. It also didn't help that their enemies' body was fucking covered with scars: [Hero] had tried to shake off the nasty question of how many they had inflicted there by themself, but they were not quite successful.

Either me or my boss..., [Hero] had thought and cringed.

They'd finished the procedure as fast as possible. [Hero] couldn't afford questioning their occupational choices right now.

Not while bandaging my fucking enemy.

After that, they waited. For what exactly, they weren't even sure. For an idea to get themself out of this mess? For [Villain] to wake up and laugh at their enormous stupidity? Only heaven knew.

Agitatedly, they threw a second glance at their nemesis. Still sleeping.

[Hero] rubbed their temples. It was very likely that [Villain] survived. They had been adressable when [Hero] found them and had no severe internal injuries. The attackers probably thought that making the criminal immobile and leaving them in the snow would be enough to do the job.

What the hell was even wrong with people?

Just shooting [Villain] would've been more merciful and (ironically) far more effective. [Hero] snorted without a trail of humor in their laughter. The cruelty of their attackers had been [Villains] luck - and [Heros] possible downfall.

Fuck.

[Hero] wasn't stupid enough to think that this situation was going to end well, no matter the possible outcome: Either [Villain] would attack and kill them on the spot after waking up or they would get caught for betraying [Company].

I surely hope it's the first one., [Hero] thought and snorted cynically. [Company] had never been known for patience with traitors, let alone mercy.

God... They really had dug their own grave.

To divert themself from the depressing defeatism that was occupying their mind, [Hero] checked their flat for more blankets. Focusing on the predictable present was far more comforting than worrying about their already damned future. When they passed a window, [Hero] got caught by the mesmerizing sight outside: The twinkling lights of the city were completely covered by a heavy coat of snow by now.

They clutched the blanket in their hands.

If [Hero] had left [Villain], they would be dead by now. Lost in the cold and only found after the blizzard had finally vanished. Without wanting to, [Hero] shuddered at the thought of frozen blue limbs, hidden underneath a merciless cover of ice.

They turned to look at [Villain] again: If it wasn't for the bruises and the criminals' unnatural wheezing, one could think they were simply asleep. The warm light made them look just like every other ordinary person. Like one of [Heros] friends, maybe, staying over for the weekend...

[Hero] shook their head.

What the fuck?

It sure as hell wasn't like that.

[Villain] was a criminal who had scarcely cheated death, because [Hero] had been in the right place at the right time. Because they had been too fucking soft to do what would've been expected from them.

At least, that's what their boss would say.

Killing is a part of your duty, whether you like it or not., they would say, This scum isn't worth saving.

But in the moment [Hero] had decided to carry their nemesis home, they had also decided, that no, the idea of human lives having a variety in their holistic worth was not something they could accept as a virtue.

Because [Villains] life was a life, after all.

And because killing wasn't a fucking virtue.

[Hero] sighed.

...

Hell, they didn't even hate [Villain] the way they were supposed to. Even though arrogant and sharp-tongued, their nemesis had never inflicted unnecessary pain upon the innocents that weren't their targets. [Villain] was a criminal and possibly dangerous, but they weren't sadistic.

"They probably have a smaller body count than [Company].", they thought and didn't quite know how to feel about that.

[Hero] jumped violently, when all of a sudden, a hoarse voice behind them rose to a whisper:

"Where- Where am I...?"

Oh, fucking hell.

Fucking hell.

Slowly, [Hero] turned around.

[Villain] was looking at them from across the room, gaze still dazed.

"Um... In my apartment.", [Hero] said after staring at their foes' pale face for a little too long. They nervously cleared their throat.

Why the fuck were they already awake?

"I- I found you."

[Villain] didn't answer. It was visible how much the aftermath of their condition must've ached: The criminal was pale as a ghost and trembled heavily beneath the sheets.

It only took [Villain] a few seconds to recognize their saviours' features: "You're... You're [Hero].", they breathed, eyes going wide.

"Yeah... Yeah, it's me.", [Hero] answered and awkwardly scratched their neck, "...What a coincidence, right?"

The criminal stiffened. A tense atmosphere unfurled itself the whole room and [Heros] heart sank even further into their boots.

This had been a bad idea.

"Well, just start then.", [Villain] murmured after a few moments of silence had passed. The criminals' voice sounded too weak to match the contempt it was filled with.

"Start..?", [Hero] repeated with a frown.

"What the fuck should I start?"

[Villain] refused to look at them.

"Stop the shitty games. What does [Company] want to know, huh?", they asked lowly and [Hero] could see them grow tenser with every passing second (were they shaking?).

[Hero] shook their head in visible confusion.

"What..- What makes you think of [Company] right now? I don't-"

Oh...

Oh god.

Grave realization hit them, when [Hero] finally comprehended [Villains] words. The way their enemies' body had instinctly reacted after finding out [Heros] identity. How [Villains] gaze had become hollow after seeing who was standing in front of them.

Dissociating.

They think I'm gonna question them.

"I- [Villain], it's not like that!", [Hero] said, too baffled to hide the shock in their voice, "You were attacked, so I picked you up to bring you somewhere safe!"

"Being with your kind isn't safe...", [Villain] answered with an unnervingly blank gaze.

[Hero] scratched their neck. Fuck, they hadn't even thought about how damn threathening all of this would obviously be. [Villain] had found themself in a foreign environment, had awfully painful injuries and the first thing they saw after regaining consciousness was the face of their fucking enemy. Of course, they had instantly gone into a fight-flight response.

"Look...", [Hero] started lamely, not even sure what they could say to possibly fix this, "It's really cold outside and you would've frozen to death, if I had left you. All the hospitals are closed and- Yeah, whatever, you're in my apartment now. I'm not going to hurt you or anything, I'm going to give you some meds and painkillers to better your condition and then you can leave, okay?"

[Hero] cringed internally, when they looked into [Villains] alarmed face. God, this really rang hollow.

"Look, I won't... I won't torture you, [Villain]. I'll just patch you up and you can go."

The criminal visibly needed time to process this information. Their eyes wandered through [Heros] shabby flat and eventually stopped on their saviour again. Their gaze was clear enough to make [Hero] wonder how they managed to stay so alert despite the pain they must've been in.

Practice makes perfect., [Hero] thought somberly and couldn't wrestle down a certain amount of self-contempt at their own notion: [Villain] had probably developed their survival skills underneath the hands of the very people [Hero] was working for.

The good people, as they assured themself.

"You... saved me...?", [Villain] asked.

[Hero] sighed.

"Yes. I saved you."

"Why... Why the fuck would you do that?"

Besides the deep exhaustion that seemed to creep into their eyes, [Villain] looked honestly confused. A seldom sight in their otherwise confident features.

[Hero] kneaded their hands. Vocalizing this wasn't exactly soothing the unease they felt about the whole thing.

"You know...", they started, "It simply felt wrong to let you die... So I helped you."

[Villain] scoffed in disbelief.

"What, like the good samaritan that you are?"

"More like the stupid idiot who just saved your fucking life, asshole!", [Hero] shouted and glared at their patient, who looked equally belligerent.

"Okay,", they tried again after internally counting to ten, "I know how this sounds. Blame it on the fact that I'm stupid or that it's fucking Christmas, but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you to die out there." [Hero] pressed their lips together. "It would've been wrong and so I saved you. That's the best answer you're gonna get."

The last words came out with a bitterness that was acrid enough to shift something in [Villains] expression.

"I know you have every reason to think that this is some kind of trap.", [Hero] said firmly without breaking eye contact, "Honestly, it probably should be one. But I wouldn't have made you tea and wrapped you in the blankets that my mom knitted me last year, if I wanted to capture or torture you, [Villain]. You're not my prisoner."

Their nemesis didn't answer, but to [Heros] surprise, the openly hostile expression on their face was fading just the slightest bit. [Villain] didn't exactly look calmer, but... Weary. Weary and dead tired. [Hero] guessed that despite the dubious enviroment they had found themself in, their foe was simply too exhausted to stay alert for much longer; especially, if they had the slight but hopeful chance of temporary safety. Besides, [Villain] was too hurt to do anything right now, even if [Hero] would've had foul intentions.

[Villain] closed their eyes and let their head softly fall back onto the pillow. [Hero] thought they were already asleep again, when the criminal suddenly mumbled: "You must either think really high of me or really low about the people you're working for..."

[Heros] brow furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Their enemy pondered a little. "Everyone who's in your field would've left me. Should have left me. It's anticipatory obedience. With this...", [Villain] sloppily gestured around, "You betray everything your shitty organisation stands for. You will be killed for this... Provided that you're telling the truth, of course."

"I am telling the truth!", [Hero] snapped, more irritated by [Villains] distrust than the rest of their baleful forecast.

The criminal smiled. "Then you are as good as dead."

"Well, thank you, [Villain], that's fucking reassuring."

"Must be either because you don't like the way your business works... Or because you've grown really fond of me..."

The smile on [Villains] bruised features grew a little bit wider. "Personally, I think it's the last one."

[Hero] rolled their eyes. "Shut the hell up...", they grumbled without any venom behind the words.

They turned their head to look out of the window again. The snow was still falling.

Oh, man...

Only a few hours ago, [Heros] only problem had been internally debating if they wanted to visit a Christmas Market. Now, they were actively risking their career, their reputation and - according to [Villains] more than convincing assumption - their very life, if someone found out about this.

"What am I supposed to do now, huh...?", [Hero] asked despondently and turned to face their guest. [Villain], however, had placidly drifted off into the depths of sleep again, leaving them alone with the chaos of their own confusing thoughts.

God...

What kind of mess had they gotten themself into?

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

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Y’all are too nice to me I swear… here I am being horny and nasty on main and I’m getting encouraged, damn. But for real ( ´ ω ` ) thank you so much!!

I’m gaining more confidence to post more smutty stuff and the kind of dark shit I like, so I might go back and make more nasty Childe content later on too… After Albedo, I got Razor and Zhongli coming up, and a few ones I just worked on for fun. But yeah, just in case it wasn’t clear for anyone who followed me, I’m going to be writing almost entirely dark content and some really nasty stuff, so just be aware of that, and don’t consume my writing if that’s something that may be harmful to you.

Albedo is so pretty… and such good dark content material… He treats you like a science experiment but has the audacity to make it hot smh

I haven’t seen a whole lot of him outside the cutscenes, so potentially ooc (as if yandere content isn’t already ooc, lmao)

Albedo - Yandere Profile

tw: general yandere content, obsessive behavior, stalking

tw (below cut): smut, noncon (seriously, you’ve been warned)

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Very much aware. In the beginning, it frustrates him. He’s never been particularly attached to anyone, outside of his former instructor. He’s always enjoyed being out on his own, spending extended amounts of time by himself – the desire to be around someone is a foreign feeling for him. He immediately notices how bizarre the emotion is for him, how it changes his behaviors. His self awareness combined with perceptiveness makes him able to acutely recognize not only how unusual this emotion is for him, but also how the extent of his feelings, the types of desires they ignite in him, is unusual even for “normal” people who aren’t social recluses.

He’s frustrated by his own actions, feels embarrassed at how attached he is to you, how easily you make him flustered and trip over his words. As he is a very aware yandere, he’s definitely afraid of rejection to some degree. He has no idea how to navigate feelings and interactions with other people, he’s never really had the desire to form a particularly strong bond with anyone before. As such, he’ll come across as very awkward, and he will interact with you less than most yanderes – he knows he’s just going to embarrass himself if he talks to you, right? He’ll just mess up and say something strange, so instead, he opts to watch you from the shadows, go to places where you are, but keep a distance from you, just being able to watch you makes him feel fluttery and overwhelmed.

He will definitely be one to collect things from you. He collects plenty of things for the sake of science, this is no different. Or so he tries to tell himself, but he can’t delude himself even if he tries. He knows its weird, he knows its wrong, but the overwhelming urge to have things of yours is too great to resist. He’ll start off with more innocent things, but it will gradually progress to not-so-innocent… items of yours.

It may not be obvious, but he’s actually a fairly sensitive person, at least regarding you. He places a lot of value in what you think of him, and wants to ensure you’ll respond positively to him. He views it like a science – there should be some formula by which he can put in the correct actions, and produce a specific result. Unfortunately, unlike real science, there’s not much room for trial and error – he feels he only has once chance.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

It will take some time, as he’s got to get over his own nerves first. He’s torn between the fear of you hating him for such a thing, it would be the end of the world for him, but also the desire to pull you away from the world, to keep you hidden from others, to have you all to himself, to be the only person that gets to look at you. If you start showing positive signs, reacting positively to his gifts, expressing interest in conversation with him and going out of your way to see him, he’ll start to get more confident, think that he can afford to do something that might sour your opinion of him, hoping it will merely be temporary.

He’ll probably start to do so several times and back out. He’ll set out at night, make it all the way to your room and stand over your sleeping form, and he’ll start to worry, wonder if someone saw him, see holes in his plans, he gets too nervous and bolts. He’ll persuade you into being alone with him, and although its the chance he’s looking for, again, he’ll get nervous, worry about being caught, run through all the what-ifs, and miss the chance. Honestly, when he does finally take you, it will probably be not planned, but in the heat of the moment, a rash decision from desperation. Something like you coming to visit him to tell him you’re leaving the area, came to say goodbye, and he’ll panic, ultimately grabbing you by the arm as you try to leave and dragging you back inside, silently, but forcefully.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

Moderately difficult. Your best bet is to take advantage of his tendency to be absent minded when he’s absorbed in his work. He gets very lost in his thoughts, to a point where he’ll completely zone out and be oblivious to the world around him. On the downside, this means you won’t have much time to cover distance, he’ll be close behind the moment he realizes you’re gone.

The route he’ll probably take is actually one where you won’t need to be too restrained, because you’ll be taking… a little research trip. Out to the most freezing, desolate areas of the mountains. He’s convinced the knights he needs to stay there for his research, but in reality, he’s internally panicking, as he tries to figure out how to make this work – after all, you two can’t stay here forever. You’d be foolish to run out of the little cabin he’s bought, out into the perilous freezing cold and jagged, high slopes. At first, he thinks there’s no way you’d try it, so he’s content letting you have free reign to walk around as you please. If he has to leave for whatever reason, he’ll probably lock you into a single room, but he won’t chain you up, as again, he's really trying to avoid making you hate him.

If you prove to be determined to leave, he’ll be hurt, but mostly concerned for you. He’s actually not one to get too mad over an escape attempt – he’ll blame himself, or theorize it’s just a natural response your brain triggered. Against his first choice, he’ll end up having to get more strict with your restraints. If you get too whiny, though… you might trigger one of his more frustrated moments.

“I didn’t want to have to do this… I’m sorry. I can’t risk anything bad happening to you. Tell me if it’s too tight… I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t blame you. I know you’re probably panicking over all this, but you’ll get adjusted to it, I promise. Just… just give it some time… it’s not so bad, living with me, I promise.”

“Don’t be like that. You’re only tied up because you tried to leave. You should understand why you have to be kept like this… If you don’t want to be restrained, you shouldn’t have run out, trying to get yourself killed.”

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

For all his academic intelligence, he’s not highly skilled with people and socialization. He’s not too good at being able to tell when he’s being lied to, and he definitely won’t pick up on subtle manipulation. It’ll be pretty easy to wrap him around your finger, he’ll do what he can to make you happy.

Once he finds out you’ve lied to him, though, he’ll get pretty upset. He likely won’t trust you again, and will require proof of anything you say, or set out to find out if you’re telling him the truth or not.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He’ll try to accommodate you, giving you things you ask for, but he has limits. He’s too paranoid to let you have any contact with the outside world. You do have him wrapped around your finger to an extent, though. Whatever he’s doing at the moment, he’ll drop it in a heartbeat if you want to spend time with him in any way, even if its just you asking for food or to take a walk. He’ll be willing to take you for very short trips outside, no further than a few yards from the lodging, if only because he knows sunlight is vital to your health.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

The basics will be there – don’t try to leave, don’t be difficult with him, try to cooperate, be obedient. However, he’s also particularly overprotective of anything that can hurt you – even yourself. Under no circumstances can you handle anything that can hurt you – that means no cooking, no knives, no lifting anything heavy, no going outside without him. If you’re determined to cook something, he’ll have to stand right behind you, and watch while you do it. If you get so much as a little cut or burn, he’ll take over, insisting you go sit down after he tends to your “wounds.”

At the very beginning, he’ll be hesitant to punish you too much, as part of his plan to get you to like him. However, he can be a little easily frustrated, and your safety and well-being comes first, even if it means he has to make you upset. He will have to restrain you, take away what little privileges you had. If you try to bolt while you’re outside, no more going outside. If you try something foolish like attacking him with a knife when he gives you cooking privileges, you will lose said privileges. Really, the worst part of it all is the humiliation, being treated like a dumb, incapable baby that can’t do anything for yourself. He insists on doing everything for you, even down to bathing you and dressing you, even feeding you if you can’t convince him to take restraints off your hands. He’ll talk down to you in that way, too, talking to you as if you were a child.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

It’s a situation he’s not prepared to handle, and he’s unsure of what to do. It strikes fear in him that you might have someone else interested, so he has to get rid of them as quickly as possible. He’s not opposed to killing, if it comes down to that, but initially, he’ll try to work behind the scenes – expose something that will ruin their reputation, get them accused of a crime. This would also be one of the possible aforementioned situations that might cause him to kidnap you a bit earlier than he normally would, as well. If he can’t get rid of them easily, he’ll just take you away from them.

He will absolutely try to make you hate them, try to ruin your image of them, and he’s rather good at falsifying evidence for his claims of their behavior. With his alchemic skills, that sort of thing is easily possible.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

He gets more frustrated than anything, when you’re being difficult. This is mostly just him sighing quite a bit, speaking a bit harshly, even pouting and sulking a bit if you’ve offended him. But true anger in him is not pretty, and almost never happens. It’s a buildup, a slow rise that has a boiling point. If he reaches that point, he can definitely get mad enough to hurt you, it’s actually kind of terrifying in how sharp of a contrast it is to how he normally is. It’s a side of him that’s very difficult to draw out. He’s not one to yell or shout, no, his anger is a suffocating silence, he slams down whatever he’s holding as he stomps over to you, grabbing you by the arms hard enough to bruise, and dragging you by the hair to whatever he has planned.

With mild frustration outbursts, he will feel justified, but if it reaches that intense anger, he’ll usually give at least a little apology, tell you he didn’t mean to go that far. He hates to think of you fearing him, but ultimately, if that’s what’s necessary to keep you safe, then he can live with it.

Do they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It’s an odd mix. On one hand, he sees you as utterly fascinating, the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, more than any landscape or art he’s seen or made, an invaluable treasure to be kept on a high pedestal. Simultaneously, however, he will treat you like a child, thinks you can’t do anything for yourself. It’s a bizarre duality, but one he is consistent on. You’re precious, so very precious, and he’s undeserving of you, but at the same time, you need him to be safe and sound.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Of the genshin boys, he’s one of the most determined. He’s not good with people, and he doesn’t really have anyone particularly close to him left anymore. He tends to keep people at a distance. You sort of fill an space inside him that he never knew was empty, a void he wasn’t aware he had until it was consumed by thoughts of you. He doesn’t need anyone or anything else, so long as he has you with him, but he really, really wants it to be true that you love him. He doesn’t need you to even love him as much as he loves you – he doesn’t even know if that’s possible – but he just wants to know that, even if only in the slightest, his feelings are returned. He’s so distant from everyone else, but you wormed your way into his heart, even if you didn’t intend to, with your smiles and softness and kindness towards him. For the first time, he feels weak around someone, but in a way, it’s a good feeling. He wants to be able to be vulnerable, be weak, and not have anything to fear by doing so.

He’s lucid, though, so he doesn’t expect you to love him immediately. As he’s not good with words or displays of affection, he’ll get you all sorts of gifts. Rare items that you wonder how the hell he obtained them, beautifully crafted little trinkets from all his searching and time traveling, more clothes than you could ever wear. You’ll start to feel a little guilty, it’s so much, and you’re certain he doesn’t have that much money. He’ll blow it off, say it’s no big deal, but if you insist, he’ll have to start finding new ways to convey his affection. In captivity, he won’t stop trying, but he’ll understand why you might be angry. In that case, he will utilize what he’s learned from research in books he’s read. He knows that eventually, with him being the only one you have, the only company, the only one to talk to, the only source of touch, you’ll eventually have to cave. You’ll become attached to him, bond with him, whether you like it or not. He knows how powerful the affect of touch can be, and will make sure to hold you in his arms, keep you on his lap, make you crave the only source of human touch you can get. Dependency, he thinks, is the gateway to you loving him.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Drawings. So many of them. Much like his drawings he uses in notes, he’s found he tends to start scribbling a familiar face when his mind drifts off. He’s memorized every little detail of your face, every curve on your body. If you’re ever snooping around, you’ll eventually uncover a book of sketches he has solely dedicated to drawings of you. Drawings of you laughing, smiling, sleeping, drawings that you’re certain were of real events you were at, that you didn’t remember him being at. Every bit in perfect detail. If you confront him about it, he’ll be horrifically embarrassed, insisting they’re no good, or, if you’re upset, trying to reassure you it was all from his mind and totally not him lurking in the shadows as he watches you.

Also, if you want to make him happy, get him on one of his spiels about his work, his interests, anything that he can catch onto and go on and on about. He’ll catch himself rambling and apologize for being “annoying,” but if you reassure him, and express interest, that will make him feel particularly appreciated. It would be a primary way to get on his good side and manipulate him, or lull him into false security to make your escape, if that’s what you’re looking to do. But be warned, it will only work once, and he’ll be far too hurt to let himself indulge in sharing these things with you again.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Publicly, definitely highly reserved. He’s easily flustered, and thinks of sex in a very scientific way, for the purpose of procreation. For fun? He knows it’s enjoyable, but can’t separate it from his very analytic, scientific way of viewing things. It’s a formula, you touch this here and pull that there, and the result is supposed to be orgasmic bliss. He just isn’t very familiar with pleasure – he doesn’t drag out masturbation, even, as that would be a waste of time. He gets it over with quickly, taking short breaks during his work. He is a fairly high drive, though, and gets the urge fairly frequently, about once or twice a day.

He’ll be hornier with your presence, having to leave more frequently to get off to the little things you do, quickly getting himself off while recalling the mental image of you holding a pen in your mouth, the little moan when you stretch, the way your clothes fit to your frame.

Prior to abduction, he’s not particularly touchy at all, in fact, he’s very jumpy if you touch him. Once he’s gotten you alone with him for the foreseeable future, isolated, dependent, he’ll gain more confidence, be willing to give into his cravings to touch you, hold you, eventually progressing to groping you, moving his hands up and down your body, under your clothes, slowly peeling them off.

He’s initially a bit ashamed of his urges towards you, feels guilty every time he gets off to you, but will likewise gain more confidence once you're his.

A guy can only fight off the urge for so long before he cracks, before he can’t continue to care about the consequences. For him, that point is when he knows he finally has you all to himself – his worries fade, and while the guilt is still there, it’s far outweighed by desire.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He does care, but as stated previously, it’s hard to fight the urge for so long. It will be torture, but for the first few days, he wants you to “adjust” to your new “home,” and not add to your panic. After that, though, he’ll try to assess your reactions. If you’re extremely resistant, he’ll give you more “adjustment” time. He can’t really hold off forever, though, and eventually, maybe a few weeks in, comes to the conclusion that if he just does what he wants, so long as he’s gentle and reminds you he loves you, it will help you get past the mental barrier in your mind. He’s convinced there’s simply a psychological issue, and that sometimes, people need a push. It’s like having a friend who can’t swim – sometimes, you just have to throw them into the water, help them get over that mental hurdle, and they’ll be grateful in the end. That’s what he tells himself to justify it, anyway. He has enough… anatomical prerequisite knowledge to know what’s good and what’s bad, and will take your body’s positive reactions as a sign of what you really want. Is definitely the kind to use that against you, holding up his fingers to your face after you cum on them, as if to prove a point.

“See? I told you, you just have to let go and give in to what you want… if you didn’t, my fingers wouldn’t be dripping like this, now would they?”

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

He wants to experiment on you. This manifests as him being something of a service top without really intending to be, even if you’re not exactly happy about it. He likes to watch your reactions, watch the way your body moves, test the pleasure you get from different things, discover what it is that you like, even if you weren’t aware of it. In particular, he’s fascinated by the fact that girls have so many types of orgasms. He’ll want to try them all, watch and see which ones are more intense than others, which ones make you convulse, makes your toes curl, your eyes roll back. Which erogenous zones make your breath hitch, make you twitch and whimper. Probably the type to be determined that he can make you cum just from something like sucking on your nipples, and he won’t stop until he achieves it. He’ll also want to try everything. At least anything that he thinks has some potential to appeal to him, mentally. He’s a busy man and hasn’t really taken the time to explore his own sexuality, and has virtually zero experience.

Edging, overstimulation, forced orgasms

Experimentation also means testing limits and thresholds. He’ll bring you up to the edge, learn to watch for the slightest of signs that you’re close, listen to your breath, watch your face, wait until you’re just so close and then draw back, stopping just short of letting you catch that high. Then he’ll let you drift back down, and bring you back up again. No amount of begging will make him show you any mercy, you’ll only cum when he’s decided he’s observed enough. He wants to push the limit, see just how close to the edge of orgasm you can get without spilling over, just how much it takes to drive you insane. He’ll also want to see how far you can go after it as well. Orgasm won’t be the end of his ministrations, no, he wants to see how much stimulation you can take. You won’t be able to get away from his tongue, he’ll grab you by the hips and slam you back down, continuing to lap at you even if you’re so sensitive it’s painful. Watching you cum will just make him rut into you harder, bruising and abusing your insides to a point that they’re so sore you can feel it long after it’s over. At first, he might feel a little guilty, and may very well after it’s over, but in the heat of the moment, he can’t fight the insatiable urge to listen to you squeal, feel you convulse, watch the tears from overwhelming pleasure run down your face.

He’ll make it his personal mission to see how many orgasms the female body is capable of within a given amount of time - per day, per hour, how quickly you can have them in succession. For scientific purposes, of course. Anatomy and human biology isn’t really his main field of focus, but he likes to expand his research horizons.

“Just one more… cum one more time for me, then we’ll be done. Come on… I know you can, just one more.”

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He’s actually good with children, usually. He has a calming effect on kids. He isn’t sure how he feels, though. To some degree, he fears his capabilities to parent, thinks he would be too cold to be a good father. But he also likes the idea of a protege, an heir to his title, one he can teach everything he knows. If he does end up having one, this fucking nerd man will read every book on pregnancy, birthing, and parenting that he can get his hands on.

Also, he’ll absolutely be one to track your cycles, even better than you can. He’s researched enough to know exactly when you’re most or least likely to get pregnant, and you can’t help but notice how much more he seems to cum in you when you’re at your most fertile. Nor can he deny how satisfying it is to watch his cum slowly drip out of you, watching you twitch with aftershock and slowly drift off in exhaustion.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Unfortunately for you, since overstimulation and edging are already normal and everyday for you, he’ll have to amp it up a bit if he’s trying to make you regret something. He might get rougher, abusing more pleasure spots on your body, keeping his hands, mouth, and cock occupied all at once with driving you over the edge until it’s painful. But if you’re exceptionally misbehaved, you might not ever get a release to his edging, instead left to suffer from being so close, tied up so you can’t finish yourself off.

In moments when he’s really, truly angry, the peak of it, and that blends with arousal, he’ll really, really throatfuck you. Grabbing the back of your head and shoving his cock down as deep as he can, holding you there as you gag and choke, feeling your throat convulse around him, desperately trying to pull back for air. The movements are harsh and brutal, pulling harshly on your hair, moving at a pace so fast you barely have a second to breathe. Thankfully, when it gets like that, he won’t last long, emptying out into your throat, holding your jaw shut and demanding you swallow. If any spills off on your chin, he’ll gather it up on his fingers, hold it to your face, and command you to open your mouth, suck it off, and swallow again. That’s at the peak of his anger, though, and you’ll have to substantially piss him off to reach that point. He’ll apologize later, holding you close, but his guilt doesn’t change the fact that it’s one of the most intense orgasms that he’ll have, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes think of doing it again, even without provocation. He’s restrained enough not to, but the thought is there… and deep down, he’ll entertain the idea.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

The curves of your body, no matter how defined or faint they are, no matter the general shape of your body, to him it’s the most beautiful thing. He’ll definitely want to draw you, even if you’re not too keen on posing. He’ll run his hands up and down your body, squeezing every little bit of flesh he can, moving his palms over every little curve, every inch of your skin.

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere albedo x reader #tw: extreme content #tw: noncon #yandere albedo

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creweemmaeec11 · 3 years ago

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When person A is trying to be mad at person B, so person B tickles person A juuuust enough to make not smiling hard, while teasing them until they eventually crack a smile

Saw this on one of your posts and loved it....so...and uh....villain as person A and hero as person B? And could the hero and villain be lovers? Though it...would be cute.

So sorry for such a long wait! I really don't want to be known for this topic so I'm trying to space them out xD anyway, hope you enjoy!

Original prompt came from this list.

"Hey, I'm going to make some pasta for supper, is that alright?"

"Yup. Don't break the stove while you're at it," the villain in the bed monotoned, not taking their eyes off the tv as they flipped through the channels.

The hero blinked, before fully stepping into the bedroom as they tilted their head with a lopsided smile, "you're not still mad about earlier are you?"

"Nope," the villain replied sarcastically.

There was an exasperated sigh, "I already said I was sorry! I didn't mean to break your little figurine of me, it was an accident!"

"Mhm,"

"I don't know why you even need one when we live together, it's not like you don't see me enough," they tried to joke, but the villain didn't even bother to reply.

"Come onnnn," the hero groaned, "It was only a cheap little trinket anyway-"

They were cut off by the villain full-on glaring at that comment.

"Wait- no! That's not what I-" The hero sputtered, before catching themselves and taking a breath, "I can just get you another one, okay? There's like hundreds in the hero academy's gift store. Regardless, I can assure you the real deal is way better anyway,"

The villain just rolled their eyes as they glanced back at the screen and flicked to a different channel carelessly.

The hero narrowed their eyes. Something was... off. They knew the villain like the back of their hand, and the other didn't typically get like this.

Usually, if they were upset about something, the villain had no problem being blunt and upfront about what was wrong, and they were rarely petty after whatever dispute had been settled between them.

Which meant, something hadn't been settled yet. The hero was clearly still missing a piece of the puzzle.

"I cleaned it up already, you know, there's no mess," the hero tried.

The villain just hummed in agreement. Nope, it wasn't the mess.

They thought back to the incident, remembering being taken aback at how genuinely upset the villain looked.

"What was so special about it?"

Immediately, the hero saw the villain stiffen slightly, catching the ever so slight red that appeared on their cheeks.

Bingo.

"Nothing," the villain dismissed, "You said yourself it was only a cheap trinket,"

"Uh-huh," the hero drawled, slowly stepping closer, "to which you responded by glaring at me, meaning you clearly disagreed,"

"No, I was-... just saying it-... wasn't helping your case," they argued, "Anyway, weren't you about to go make supper?"

"An obvious lie followed by trying to distract me? Wow, apparently that thing was *very* special,"

Wait, when had the hero gotten that close‽

Before the villain could react the hero grabbed their ankles, pulling them downward on the bed so they fell backwards before jumping up and straddling their waist.

"And apparently," the hero continued, smirking mischievously as they loomed over the other, "you *really* don't want me to find out why,"

The villain paled slightly, looking up like a mouse that had been cornered by a cat before steeling their features and crossing their arms over their chest.

Alright. If that's how they were going to be, challenge accepted.

"Maybe I should talk to the hero academy about making a little figurine of you," the hero commented, while their index fingers began drawing slow circles along the villain's sides.

"Nobody would buy one," the villain grumbled under their breath as they tensed but tried not to make it obvious.

"I dunno about that," the hero replied, fingers creeping higher, causing the villain to twitch whenever the hero brushed over a particularly sensitive spot. "I could imagine kids playing with them like dolls. Maybe they would act out me finally catching you," they teased.

That... was admittedly a pretty funny mental image. But they weren't going to be giving in that easily.

Suddenly the hero's fingers fluttered along their sides, and the villain had to bite their lip to keep from smiling. They couldn't help the way they squirmed slightly, unable to sit completely still any longer.

"Are you gonna tell me yet?" the hero questioned playfully, yet tauntingly, lightening up on their soft tickling momentarily.

The only response they got was in the form of a sharp glare.

The hero shrugged, smirking, "suit yourself," they replied in a tone that was infuriatingly confident the villain would break eventually, and that they were perfectly content to wait. Some perfect balance between mischievous and innocent.

Immediately the villain could feel the sneaky fingers returning to dancing lightly along their sides, and they had to bite their lip to keep from smiling.

The hero above them laughed at this, "Gods you're adorable,"

Okay now that was just plain evil, the villain thought. The hero knew they were still terrible at taking compliments, especially direct ones, and even more so from the hero.

They also knew "adorable" was one of their worst ones. They could take being called smart, clever, even charming, but they'd never get used to being described as sweet, cute, kind, or most of all; adorable.

Unfair. It was completely unfair.

The hero only laughed again as the other lit up bright red beneath them.

They hadn't even done that intentionally, the hero just couldn't help the comment when the villain truly did look the part right now. However, if they were going down the path of flustering the other....

"I love you," the hero suddenly stated out of nowhere, voice and expression sickeningly earnest and genuine. Their eyes were shining as they tilted their head slightly.

Unfair. It was unfair. How could the hero just say things like that so easily?

They only got redder.

The slow circles were *just enough* to make not smiling difficult already. But it was so hard not to smile when the villain heard those words aloud. They were words the villain never thought they'd get to hear! Even hearing them normally caught them off guard!

Still, the villain stayed quiet.

"Last chance," the hero drawled warningly, "Don't make me do something you'll regret,"

They waited a moment, but still got no response. The hero gave an exasperated sigh, "Have it your way. What do you call a tailor that specializes in superhero costumes?"

The villain glanced up in confusion.

"Very *cape-*able,"

The punchline was accompanied by the fingers on their sides speeding up, and the villain broke, hands darting down to stop the hero's fingers as a smile broke out on their face.

"You're an idiot," the villain chuckled lightly, shaking their head.

The hero laughed, genuinely, before leaning down to kiss the villain beneath them, "I'm * your* idiot though,"

The villain hummed mid-kiss in agreement.

"So, what was so special about the figurine?" The hero asked when they broke. Their partner blushed, having momentarily forgotten the consequence of giving in.

The villain sighed, glancing away, "It was the first thing you ever gave me..." they explained quietly, "even if it was only meant as a joke at the time. It was the first thing *anyone* had given me in years, and it happened to be from you..."

There was an unbearable beat of silence, which forced the criminal to risk a glance up. Their lover was looking down at them with the most charmed smile they'd ever seen, which only caused them to blush more.

"I had no idea," they replied, "I promise I'll get you another one, okay?"

"It's alright, don't bother," the villain replied, causing shock to flash on the hero's face. The villain smirked, "You were right anyway" they explained, reaching up to grab the fabric of the hero's collar, "The real deal is so much better,"

With that, they yanked the hero back down again.

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fairyoftbz · 3 years ago

Text

lavande | l. hyunjae

🥡 pairing: crush!hyunjae x fem!reader 🥡 wc: 3.2k 🥡 genre: fluff, university au, slice of life 🥡 tw: none? i think? 🥡 synopsis: as you are talking to Chanhee, your crush appears in the lecture room, leaving you with a hammering heart. 🥡 a/n: it's already Monday again, so posting time!! i wrote this because i kinda miss uni without covid, I had such a good time back in 2019 😩 feedback is always appreciated!! <33 🥡 requested: yes, thank you! i hope it's good enough!!

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“Have you done the readings we were supposed to?” Chanhee whispered in your ear as you turned on your computer, the screen remaining black made you frown as you quickly glanced at your friend, hand deep in your backpack to find your charger.

“Wait, let me guess. With the abandoned puppy eyes you're giving me, you want me to summarise what this was about, am I right?"

“Please Y/N, I didn't have time this week, it has been so hectic! I promise I'll buy you a coffee," you waved your hand in front of your face to let him know that he didn't need to, and you leaned your arm under the table to look for a plug while summarising what you had understood to your friend.

He listened intently until his eyes looked over your head, a smirk forming on his mouth. You frowned for a split second but continued your explanation, noticing that the smile didn't want to leave Chanhee's face. You deeply sighed, trying to make your friend pay attention, but it was to no avail. He was busy looking at something else.

“Are you listening to me, or am I talking to my computer?” you asked, and your friend returned your attention to you, his puppy look made you shake your head and roll your eyes. He looked behind you one last time, and you turned around in frustration, your breath getting stuck in your throat as you discovered what was amusing Chanhee so much.

You did a double-take when you noticed the man standing at the entrance, your pulse quickening as your hands became sweaty and hot. Every student around you, including Chanhee holding your arm to hear the rest of your explanation, disappeared from your field of view. You only had eyes for the one who stole your heart without realising it.

Hyunjae pushed the lecture door open and held it out for the group following him, politely nodding at the blushing girl that thanked him. He pursed his lips and scanned the auditorium, trying to find a familiar face to sit next to. The air was stuffy and odorous, the young man cursing the caretakers for not ventilate it more often as he was almost sweating because of his outfit. His white turtleneck and pants, as well as the lavender sweater, were thick enough for him to be warm to walk from his apartment since it was still quite chilly in the morning, but he felt like he was wearing winter clothes in the middle of a heatwave when he entered this room.

“Wow,” you murmured under your breath and looked down on your phone, trying to hide your attraction for him from your friends around you, your right hand holding your head up, hiding your eyes at the same time. You heard Chanhee mockingly exhale through his nose as he noticed you munching on your bottom lip, a habit of yours he had caught a glimpse of you doing when you were stressed or embarrassed. In this current case, you were both.

Tugging on the collar of his white turtleneck, Hyunjae sighed in annoyance as he walked down the first few steps. Cursing himself for arriving so late, he sighed as the only remaining seats were in the first few rows, where he had almost 99% of the chance of getting chosen by the professor to answer a question. He dropped his bag from his shoulder onto the table as he looked at the rows again, his eyes immediately discerning the funny stickers at the back of your computer.

“It won’t hurt anyone if I just check where he is,” you thought, but it was probably the worst idea you’ve ever had because your eyes met his dark, chocolate ones, his eyebrows lifting in relief when he recognised other familiar faces in your row.

“Y/N, you’re drooling, be careful,” your friend Chanhee whispered in your ear, teasing as you looked away from Hyunjae and wiped your mouth as quickly as possible, warmth flooding your veins as you keep your finger pressed on the power button of your computer. Your best friend laughed at your antics, but you turned a blind eye to him and mentally cursed yourself for not being as wary as you thought you were.

“Idiot, how could you be discreet if you made direct eye contact with him?” You shook your head at this thought and took a deep breath, inwardly praying that he would sit far from you as you mindlessly scrolled down through your notes.

“Hyunjae, over here!” Sunwoo stood up and raised his deep voice over all the hubbub of the auditorium, pointing at the empty spot between you and Chanhee. It was reserved for Eric who was running late, but you noticed the vacant seat next to Sunwoo and whined. You swore that the rest of the row was packed when you arrived, but it looked like a spot magically freed itself when Hyunjae appeared. It was as if your friends had planned this behind your back.

“Can I sit here?” A gentle, deep voice said, and you looked up. Much to your dismay, it was Hyunjae. “Uh, s-sure,” you stumbled on your sentence as if it were your first time speaking, closing your eyes and inner face palmed yourself at the mess you had just become in a matter of seconds.

You gathered your belongings and held them against your chest as you stood up and sat next to Chanhee, giving your crush your now empty spot. Placing your bag on the floor, you turned your head to the right and stared at your friends, only to find them laughing and bickering together. Changmin was imitating your bashful answer, and Sunwoo’s smug grin painted on his face as he cheekily winked at you, everything confirming your doubts that this situation was one of their playful plans. You sighed in exasperation and typed the title of your notes on a new document as if the entire situation weren’t bothering you.

“Thanks,” Hyunjae said as he sat down, and your heart skipped a beat when you heard his gorgeous voice that caused the hairs on your arms to stand up. His smile made him ten times more attractive, and your heart seemed to struggle to cope with his beauty.

You tried your best to ignore your crush’s presence on your left as you typed down your notes at high speed, but it was harder than you thought. He was close, too close for you to function properly and pay attention to the lecture, his presence and cologne distracting you. There were times where you could feel his gaze on you when you were typing or taking a sip of water, your hands immediately tensing and jolting under the pressure of his aura.

As the lecture finally finished, you quickly packed up your stuff and zipped your backpack before putting it on your shoulders. You didn’t even bother saying goodbye to your friends as you stood in your seat and jumped on the table of the higher row behind you to escape your group. Kevin tried to hail you by calling your name, but you were quick to pace towards the exit and vanish into the mass of the crowd.

You almost reached the library, your safe area where you always sought comfort and peace when a hand gently caught your wrist, your eyes immediately drawn to the familiar lavender knitted sleeve. You breathed heavily at the warmth of the slender hand, and you turned around to face none other than your crush.

“Gosh, you were walking so fast,” he chuckled as he finally got you, his hold still wrapped around your wrist blasting electricity through your veins. The contact felt pleasant, yet it felt so wrong to be this close to him. “I wanted to ask you something before the lecture ended, but you disappeared,” Hyunjae smiled as his cheeks became the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen. You shyly smiled, muttering a soft apology, and you frowned, not letting him time to say another word.

He opened his mouth to say something when you drew him behind one of the colossal pillars holding up the second floor as you saw Chanhee’s bleached hair peeking out from an opened auditorium door, spying on you two. Hyunjae looked confused but let you drag him anyway.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You tried to look unbothered, but your fidgeting hands betrayed you, making your crush smile. “Hum yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me today?” he asked, looking straight into your eyes, a big, bashful smile decorating his face. "I know a good café not too far from college, so I was wondering if-” “S-sure, why not?” you blurted out, and you heard muffled laughs coming from behind Hyunjae.

You both peeked out and noticed your friends piled up on top of each other, trying to listen to the conversation you were having with your crush. You sighed and shook your head in annoyance, tired of the lack of privacy your love life was experiencing every day because of them, Eric laughing even louder for getting caught eavesdropping like that.

A hand landed on your shoulder, and you felt a breath near your ear, making your heart skip a few beats in a row.

“Let’s go before they follow us, okay?” you glanced at Hyunjae, and he looked at you with something in his eyes that made your chest tighten, making the process of breathing troublesome. He grinned at your state and innocently grabbed your clammy hand as you two sped off towards the exit and ran past your friends into the mob.

As you slowed down in the streets, trying to look as civil as possible, you readjusted your backpack strap and caught your breath while laughing, Hyunjae smiling as brightly as you did. He found your laugh so pretty and light-hearted, he felt internally lucky to be part of the reason for it. You went down to the end of the street, still walking close to him, and he paused in front of a takeaway place. Holding the door for you, you shyly thanked him and entered the restaurant, the smell of Chinese food making your stomach grumble in hunger.

“Choose whatever you want, it’s on me,” you turned around and immediately backed up a bit, startled by the proximity of you two. Hyunjae only smiled, and you turned your attention back to the food. “Really?” you asked, and he snickered at your shocked state, nodding with a soft smile on his face. "Gosh, I am so hungry,” you muttered under your breath as your eyes roamed on the menu above your heads, heavily breathing as you were still trying to catch your breath back from the sprint you had just run to escape from your foolish friends.

Relief rushed through your veins when he took the reins and ordered for the two of you, your mouth uttering thank-yous like a mantra, only to have your crush waving it off.

“Y/N, it’s okay, don’t worry about it!” he said, and you stopped to look at him, Hyunjae beaming at you while grabbing the paper bag with your steamy food at the bottom. You quickly seized some napkins and disposable utensils and walked back to Hyunjae, who was already outside, waiting for you. “So, where are we going now?” he said, and you shrugged, looking around you, not knowing anything only outside from the library. “I know a good place, it’s not far from here,” you vaguely pointed to your right, and Hyunjae immediately started walking. “Let’s go before the food gets cold!” he exclaimed and let you take the lead.

It was a small park hidden a few streets away from your university, meeting other students since there was another park inside the campus. Bowing down to pat the grass a few meters away from the artificial pond, you sat down as it was dry, but Hyunjae handed you the food and took out his folded waterproof jacket from his bag. Placing it on the ground, he gestured you to come and sit with him.

“Here, come sit with me, you’ll be more comfortable,” he said, and you obeyed, your knees touching as you set the paper bag down next to you and handed him his food and drink. Your proximity didn’t leave you indifferent, but you tried your best to hide it as much as possible.

Hyunjae noticed your little change of behaviour and found you adorable when you looked away at each of his compliments. Your arms were now touching since his jacket underneath you wasn’t a picnic tablecloth, and you were slowly getting used to his body warmth surrounding you.

As the lunch break went by, you talked about your respective majors, and you joked about the shared lecture of this morning, getting closer and closer to each other. He was kind-hearted and became more comfortable when you were alone, gently nudging you in the elbow when you were about to lift your chopsticks to your mouth, the noodles falling back into your bowl. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you were quick to nudge him back and laugh, still careful not to stain any of his clothes.

“You… look really nice today. I like those colours on you,” you complimented him, and he smiled at your hesitant voice, taking a sip of soda before answering. “Thank you Y/N, I appreciate it,” you nodded and started chewing on your bottom lip, eyes divagating towards the pond surrounded by plants and flowers. “You look really pretty as well,” he whispered in your ear, and you froze at his words, your heart skipping a beat as he had seized the opportunity of you letting your guard down as you were paying attention to the pond. You offered him a soft smile and took a sip of your drink as well to try and calm your racing heart.

He kept playing with it since he was having fun by making you embarrassed and shy with his compliments and proximity. Hyunjae knew that it was working despite your never-ending tries of hiding it, and he felt proud to have this effect on you. Although it was hard for him to see you chew on your lip like that, he had to force himself not to cup your face and tell you to stop, because he was really tempted to do so. However, when you started scratching your lip with your fingers, that’s when he grabbed your pitiless hand and held it in his.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he said and grabbed a napkin to dab the blood coming out of the little cuts on your bottom lip you had caused out of nervosity.

You guiltily avoided his eyes and searched for your lip balm in your bag before quickly applying some. The temptation of starting again was real when your hand was still cradled in his, your crush not giving a single sign of him being ready to let go of it. Alternatively, he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as you both observed the pond and the people chilling around you.

Much to your dismay, your little romantic moment was interrupted by the church clock striking thirteen times, announcing 1 PM. You both didn’t pay attention at first, but it was when you couldn’t see a single student around you that you realised something.

“Oh god, Statistics! We have statistics in less than fifteen minutes,” you hurriedly said as you jumped on your feet, placing all your trash in the paper bag. “Oh shit!” Hyunjae imitated you and grabbed the bag from you, jogging to the trash can on the other side of the pond while you grabbed your belongings and quickly folded his jacket. He thanked you, and you left in a rush, under the confused eyes of your neighbours.

Even if it wasn’t too far from your college, you still jumped in the bus that was about to drive off from the stop right outside the park, the doors closing right behind Hyunjae. You sighed in relief as you both made it, and you tightly grabbed the metallic bar as the bus sped uphill.

“I’m glad this bus was here, I don’t think I could’ve walked back up there after our lunch,” you smiled at his words, his hand holding the bar above your heads, his lavender sweater going high enough for you to see his black Gucci belt keeping his turtleneck tucked in his pants. “I don’t know who had this marvellous idea of building the university on top of a hill,” you sarcastically mumbled and pressed the button next to your head as the screen announced the stop.

Hyunjae was the first to jump off the vehicle, grabbing your hand as you were quick to imitate him, the mass of students behind you forcing you out. Your crush followed you like a lost puppy through the different staircases and corridors, your great sense of orientation leading you quickly to the auditorium you were almost late to. You were out of breath when you finally arrived there, right before the clock struck 1:15 PM.

Surprisingly, the rows were practically empty, but you instantly spotted your friends in the middle, some of them still eating while the others were laughing or reading together. Hyunjae grabbed your hand for the nth time today, slowly getting used to this new feeling, and you dragged him towards them, but he resisted.

You looked at him, his eyes scanned the auditorium just like he did this morning and looked back at you with a smile before gesturing over a good spot, a bit higher and further away from your friends. Changmin, with his eagle eye, was quick to notice Hyunjae's lavender sweater and warned your friends, all turning around to observe you and your crush sitting together. Chanhee gasped as he quickly saw you holding hands, gossiping about it to his hyungs. Juyeon just shrugged, unbothered by the situation as he cracked his fingers and neck, getting ready to type.

You noticed your friends smirking at you and hid your head behind your computer screen, Eric leaning back in the vacant seats just enough for him to appear in the corner of your eye, his mouth transforming into a pout to mimic a kiss. You rolled your eyes and groaned, offering him a disapproving look, your antics sending him in a fit of giggles.

Hyunjae smiled at you before looking at your friends, who cooed and loudly gagged when he grabbed your hand and lifted it for them to see. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, embarrassment taking over your body as your friends cheered, drawing attention towards you and your crush, the latter replacing your linked hands on his lap, under the table.

“Why would you do that?” you dared to ask, and you shouldn’t have, your voice breaking mid-sentence made your crush giggle. “Let them be, they’re just happy that their best friend is getting out of their comfort zone. Plus, you look cute when you are flustered,” he said, and the professor started talking, preventing you from answering him.

He just sat there with a satisfied smile on your face, while you were trying not to pass out here and there with your heart beating this fast.

320 notes · View notes

cdroloisms · 3 years ago

Note

Dream tried to stop Wil from creating L'Manburg, Phil tried to stop him from blowing it up, BOTH value people over items and builds, Phil has said that they're replaceable but people aren't, Dream traded spirit for his best friends fishes (we kno he's not someone to talk abt feelings:[) BOTH were kind and selfless but used by almost if not everyone, BOTH were ready to be THE VILLAINS if it meant everyone else could live better after. ONE of them always had someone there, ONE didn't. Intentional?

aaaa sorry for the really inconsistent posts ,, im gonna try to post a little more in the next few days. i have a few things written up, so look out for them? maybe? for now, have this *gestures vaguely* thing ,, it’s kinda a mess but *shrug*

phil is such a fun character, anon, especially for all the reasons that you mentioned in the ask!! he’s a really fun character with a lot of complexities that go (sadly) overlooked by a large portion of the fandom, but he’s super cool even tho i havent analyzed him too much. hope you enjoy (and i hope my interpretation of c!phil isnt too ooc lmao)

tw: mentioned blood, injury, implied torture/abuse, starvation, trauma, mentioned death, prison arc/pandora’s vault

When Techno first brings Dream back from the prison, Phil doesn’t quite know what to think.

“I don’t trust him either,” Techno assures him, but there’s a flickering anger in the backs of his eyes, one that had emerged ever since he came back from the prison with the other man in his arms, and Phil knows his friend well enough to know that the words are empty in the face of the piglin hybrid’s particular brand of to-the-death loyalty. He shakes his head in reply, refusing to voice his thoughts for Techno’s sake, at least, but the look that the other slants at him suggests that he’s caught onto them all the same.

At first, the work is thankfully mindless; even if Phil has reservations on the man that Techno has more or less dumped into his house, he would hardly wish the clear suffering he’s been through on anyone. The first few days pass in a flurry of brewing potions, wrapping and rewrapping dressings, stitching up cuts and setting broken bones straight. The damage is extensive; Phil has to take more than a few breaks to just leave the house and breathe - he’s far from a stranger to blood and carnage, had received the title of ‘Angel of Death’ for a reason, but even he had never been particularly familiar with this form of cruelty. Torture was a level of violence that extended beyond what even he was willing to bestow - his hands may have caused many deaths, and the weight of each one would continue to haunt him for the rest of his life, but even those had the mercy of being a quick end. The wounds and scars that ripple over Dream’s skin, thin and stretched tightly over his bones with little muscle and fat left to cushion them, speak of horrors that were anything but merciful.

“I didn’t know they were capable of all of this,” Techno says, once, as they huddle of Dream, wringing towels in cold water to wipe his feverish skin. Techno’s hand reaches for the ribboning gold-filled scars that remain from the execution - carefully, Phil raises his hand to let his fingertips brush over them as well. “I mean, I knew he was dangerous and all, but-”

“I know, mate,” Phil looks back at Dream’s face, tight even in unconsciousness, at the darkened, hand-shaped bruises that remain around his throat, at the scar that runs over his left eye, clearly meant to mirror the same one that makes its way down the duck hybrid’s own face. “You said that Quackity and Sam were working together?”

“Yeah,” Techno’s expression darkens, eyes focused somewhere on the wall, seemingly very far away. He said that nothing happened to him in the prison, and he seemed relatively unharmed when Phil activated the stasis chamber, but ever since he came back, sometimes he’ll have moments, and Phil can’t help but - wonder. “Quackity does the dirty work, Sam gives him the way in and out, probably also the tools to do it. It’s-” he huffs a short, self-recriminating laugh. “It’s bad, Phil.”

“Mate-”

Techno shoots him a look, and Phil cringes, knowing already that he’d used the wrong tone. Even with the execution, Techno had been adamant to hide all traces of his own terror and fear away from him, masking it all with fury for Phil’s own sake. He knows, just from the way his old friend looks at the ribboning scars that remain sometimes, that he is far from as over the whole ordeal as he acts, but Techno never wants to talk and Phil never knows the right time to ask and they smooth it all behind plans and explosions and hope that the TNT can blow apart the trauma, too. He’s got a sneaking suspicion that the same thing is going to happen, here.

“As soon as we can,” Techno starts again, pointedly shifting his eyes away from Phil’s face, “we’re calling a Syndicate meeting to figure out what we’re going to do about the prison. Like- come on, man, you couldn’t make a more transparent abuse of institutional power if you tried, really-” he looks over, uncharacteristic uncertainty warring over his features. “If you think that’s good, I mean-“

“Of course, mate.” Phil’s voice softens. “Whenever you’re ready.”

‘Whenever he’s ready,’ as it turns out, is easier said than done, becoming even more evident when their charge wakes up from his days long spell of unconsciousness. The worst of his injuries have, under their careful care and the benefit of many potions, healed enough to no longer directly threaten his life, but the vast majority have quite some time to go before being healed completely. Being as the goal was torture and not death, most of his injuries weren’t made to be life-threatening, but rather to cause as much pain as possible - from the grimace that twists Dream’s face when he struggles to force himself awake, they’re doing their jobs.

“Hey, mate, slow down,” Phil murmurs, pressing the man down by his shoulder when Dream weakly tries to push himself up and off the bed, and his struggling only lasts for a few more minutes before he gives up and slumps against his pillow, eyes cracking open and seeming surprisingly lucid.

“Where-“ his voice is wrecked, and Phil reaches for the glass of water at the bedside as Dream coughs. “Where am I?”

“You’re at Techno’s house,” Dream’s eyes widen and then slip closed as he processes the information, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows as they knit together. “We broke you out, after Techno escaped with a stasis chamber with your book. Do you remember?”

Dream gnaws on his bottom lip. “Um- yeah. I think.” His head turns as his eyes crack open again- “Techno-“

“He’s out, right now. He’ll be back in a bit.”

“Oh.” Dream falls back into the bed, strength seemingly sapped from the short conversation. His breathing stutters, then steadies. “Okay.”

Recovery is slow. Phil doesn’t actually find himself seeing the man very often; now that he doesn’t need around-the-clock care anymore, he’s moved back into his own house, letting Techno do most of the work when it comes to rehabilitating the escaped convict crashing at his house. As he begins to spend more of his time awake and aware, he brings a whole slew of new problems; Phil catches him screaming one day, blurting harsh, angry words as Techno reads, unbothered from the other side of the room, and he stops in his tracks standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Um-“ he winces when Dream curses, smashes something against the floor, and then curls into himself at the sound. Techno doesn’t even flinch. “Am I interrupting something?”

Dream stomps away, face flushed, arms wrapped around himself. Techno raises an eyebrow.

“You lookin’ for something, Phil?” he asks, and the unpleasant knot in Phil’s chest refuses to unwind.

The episodes, unfortunately, don’t seem to get much better. Though he’s rarely outright violent, Dream looks constantly murderous, usually muttering underneath his breath about something or another while he stalks the grounds of Techno’s house. It’s not too long before Techno sends him out to work around the house instead of just moping within the cottage, which also means that Phil sees him a lot more - tending to a small farm behind the house, feeding the dogs, hacking away at mobs, and usually complaining the entire time. It’s unnerving, even as injured and unarmored as the man is, to see him walking around like this; despite his rather pathetic appearance, swamped in sweaters that dwarf him thoroughly and thin enough to look like the slightest breeze will knock him over, his eyes are flinty and intelligent and bubble with promises of revenge.

“FUCK!” Phil turns to see him slamming a shovel into the snow, stomping away into the woods, and his hands tighten around his cup of tea. Next to him, Techno shrugs.

“Nerd’s got a few issues,” he drawls, and Phil laughs shortly.

“That seems like an understatement.”

“He’ll ease up in time,” Techno sounds surprisingly confident, completely content despite the muffled curses that come from the woods next to them. He’s probably used to it, with Chat and all, but Phil can’t quite seem to find the same calm.

“I just don’t know, mate,” Phil shakes his head. “You sure having him around is the best idea? He doesn’t seem...stable.”

Techno looks up at him over the rim of his cup of coffee. His head tilts, considering, but there’s a small smile on his face that tells Phil that Techno, inexplicably, doesn’t share the same sentiments. There was always a part of him that was, for the lack of a better word, softer than the rest of the server for his self-proclaimed rival, a sort of understanding that Phil could hardly hope (nor would really want to) understand.

“Don’t worry, Phil, if he tries anything I can always just tie him up in the attic or something,” Phil huffs a small laugh, amused, and nods to concede the point. “And- well, call it intuition. You could really try talkin’ to him, you know. He reminds me of you, sometimes.”

The words stick in his head despite his best efforts, rattling in his skull when he tries to sleep, lingering when he catches glimpses of the green-clothed man stalking around their properties. He can’t imagine what would’ve prompted his old friend to make the comparison, can’t think of a single thing (besides their affinity for the color green) that would mark him as similar to the - from what he’s heard - deranged menace with a particular penchant for destruction (not that his rants and fits of anger are doing anything to correct that impression). Even so, Techno had sounded so sure when he’d made the comparison, the words offhand like he’d thought them a million times before, like it was a simple observation that held no more weight than commenting on the color of the sky. Phil watches as Dream lugs a pile of logs behind him, huffing at one of Techno’s dogs that comes to chase and nip at his feet and grumbling loudly before faceplanting into the snow. He just...can’t see it.

Days later, Wilbur comes to visit, a grin on his lips as he dramatically recounts his newest exploit: a nation by Las Nevadas, a supposed safe haven away from the glitter and glory of Quackity’s city; it sounds brilliant, it sounds lovely, and more than anything it sounds stupid, and Phil tells him as such immediately.

“You’re being reckless,” he rants at his son, wings flaring outwards and only barely noticing Dream watching from the corner of his eye, “What are you doing- picking fights with Quackity? Starting another nation- didn’t you see what happened to the first two you made? You’re going to get yourself killed, Wil!”

“Well, I’ve already seen what’s on the other side of death, and it’s really not that bad-“

“You’re my son!” The words are angrier than Phil would’ve liked, and he knows that he looks ridiculous and overbearing, criticizing the actions of his fully grown son, but all he can see is Wilbur’s face, slack with pain and grief, stained with ash and soot as his eyes flutter to half-mast in the midst of the rubble of a country he loved and destroyed and destroyed him in turn. “I can’t lose you again, Wil!”

Wilbur doesn’t quite storm out, but it’s a near thing, leaving with a clipped goodbye and leaving Phil seething on his doorstep. He spends the rest of the night pacing around the house in a sort of mad frenzy, wings stretching and folding over and over. Not for the first time, he longs for the sky, to feel the air through his wings and let the world fall into pinpricks below him; it’s this that leads him to the roof of his house, staring stubbornly at the clouds as the sun sinks down to the horizon.

“Hey.”

Phil startles; there, down below him, is Dream. He rocks back on his heels, seeming awkward, before clambering up the wall (Phil rolls his eyes at the ease with which he scales it, the feeling in his chest almost fond) and settling himself on the shingles at Phil’s side.

“Hey, mate,” Phil shakes his head. The fondness leaves, and the irritation that had risen at Wilbur’s words, earlier, comes back full-force. “Sorry- Wil came to visit, we talked. I just needed some time to think.”

Dream hums in acknowledgement, and they fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the sun dipping down past the mountains in the distance.

“You know,” Dream starts, sudden, “I told him the same thing.” He looks up at Phil, eyes faraway with old memories. “Wilbur, I mean. When he made L’manburg- I told him he was being reckless.” He shrugs. “I guess he never listened.”

Phil pauses, Techno’s words ringing in his ears. He reminds me of you, sometimes.

Dream looks surprisingly normal up close - face no longer reddened with fever or pale from blood loss, even the scars fail to really take from the boyishness of his face. He bites his lips, eyes falling away at Phil’s scrutiny, golden blond hair flopping over his forehead, newly trimmed to be something a little closer to his old length, at least in the front, the back pulled into a small ponytail. He’s young, and shockingly awkward, teeth worrying his lip, hands fiddling with each other, shifting his weight from one foot to the other several times a minute. He looks like a kid.

“He never does,” Phil lets himself smile, watches as Dream smiles back, almost like they’re sharing a joke. He wonders how well he really knows the man behind the mask. “Want to come in for some tea?”

Dream smiles wider, and something old and worn in Phils chest, knocked loose ever since he felt his son fall limp in his arms with his own sword shoved between his ribs, falls back into place.

“That would be great,” Dream replies, the words almost hopeful, and they go inside.

#tw trauma #tw death #tw blood #tw injury #tw torture #tw abuse #tw starvation #prison arc #pandora's vault #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !!#-> my asks

266 notes · View notes

faeri-meadow · 3 years ago

Text

Keep calm (Awesamdude x reader)

Okay! Enjoy psycho Dream and protective Sam!

TW: Attempted murder via choking, heaving.

While in any other situation quiet was calming, at this moment it was thick and uncomfortable. I was making my way through Pandora’s vault, going through all of the processes the warden gave me. I felt weak due to the potions and the haste, but continued on, I had to. I saw the wall of lava and watched as the lava stopped flowing, I stepped onto the platform and followed it to the main cell holding one of the worst people I’ve ever known. I stepped off the platform and watched as the lava once again flowed, not looking at the prisoner until I could no longer see Sam. “Ah, Sam told me I was getting a visitor, but I would have never guessed it’d be you (Y/N).” I slowly turned around, hands held behind my back, “Hmm, I suppose it is slightly out of character for me, but I thought it was time.” I took this time to take in his appearance, him doing the same in return. His hair was long, some parts matted, and his uniform was utterly disgusting, having several spots of XD knows what. What caught my attention most was his mask, it was nearly destroyed, and yet still held a portion of that ugly smile. “So, Dream, how have you been?” he motioned around the room with a wide, psychotic grin, “Wonderful! I’ve got all the journals I could ever want and a clock! ” I nodded, walking around the room, taking in the dark scenery to the best of my ability, “Looks cozy.”

His grin only widened, showing his unnaturally long canines, “So! To what do I owe the pleasure of being in your presence (Y/N)? ” During my look around, he kept trying to walk closer to me, like a predator. “Did little Sammy talk you into seeing me? That would definitely be a surprise given the fact that whenever I’d ask for him to send a message to you, he would refuse. ” I looked at him with an unamused expression, “No, for your information I was genuinely curious as to how you’ve been. The warden has nothing to do with my visit. If you would prefer me to leave, however, I will gladly do so. “I turned around and started towards the lava wall, shouting for Sam to bring me back. I could hear the button to stop the lava be switched, but then there was a hand around my throat. “Oh no, no, no, I never said I wanted you to leave (Y/N), why don’t you stay a bit longer~” I clawed at his hand that tightened around my neck, the thought of just taking his last life crossed my mind, no, Tommy deserves his last life, not me. All I could do was watch as the lava sank slowly, waiting to see those green eyes on the other side. Before I could see them though a trident was thrown through the lava, piercing Dreams arm as well as nicking mine, the force driving us both into the back wall. The hand keeping me from breathing never left my neck, in fact, it got even tighter, “Release them.” I heard his voice before I saw his face, venom laced his tone. My heart pounded in my ears as my vision was fading, I could however make out my savior's form walking towards us, smoke leaking from his mask, green irises practically glowing against the blacks of his eyes. Then, everything, unfortunately went dark.

The next time I woke it was dark outside and I was in my house laying in my bed. I looked around to the best of my ability, the pain in my neck almost making the action impossible and saw nothing out of the ordinary. I sat up, albeit slowly, and lightly touched my neck, yanking my hand back when a wave of pain crashed over my body causing me to double over and heave. The door was thrown open and a hand was placed on my back rubbing it lightly, “You should lay back down, you’ve been through a lot (Y/N). “I tilted my head to see who was speaking, already having a good idea. Green irises stared at me as Sam helped me lie back down, his touch gentle. “Here, this should help your bruises and your arm.” He pulled out a bottle that held a pink fizzy liquid, a healing potion. I downed the potion quickly, waiting for the pain in my throat to fade away, I tried to utter a thank you, but I couldn’t speak. “It would be best if you didn’t speak until your bruises heal, it could cause trauma to your vocal cords. “He then let out a sigh and kneeled by the side of my bed, grabbing my hand and resting his forehead on my arm, “I’m sorry, I should have known he would do something. I should have been quicker. “I tightened my grip on his hand and slightly sat up motioning towards my neck, him being one step ahead of me pulled out a pen and journal from his inventory, handing it to me. It wasn’t your fault, I knew he would try something, I just didn’t want to risk taking his last life. I showed him the journal, giving him a warm smile, “It is though, he’s been asking for you, I can only assume to try and get to me. “I couldn’t help the confusion that laced my expression, practically begging him to continue, “I don’t think it is a secret that I care for you, especially after today's events. I think Dream saw right through my act, and while I hate the situation you had to be put into for me to finally admit this, I am happy that I told you. “

I let go of his hand and cupped his cheek, making him look at me. I pointed towards the mask that covered his face with my free hand and gave a silent request for him to take it off. He complied, unclipping the mask and letting it fall onto the bed, both of us just taking in the others features. His face itself was pale-ish, but it faded to a green on the edges, his ears pointed with the green covering the tips as well. There were freckles covering his face as well, different shades of green all standing out in the dark room. His eyes however are where my attention was caught once again, bright green irises sitting in dark black pools. I pulled his face close to mine and placed a kiss on his forehead, turning to write in the journal once more. When I tried to pull my hand away though, Sam held it in its place, rubbing his face into it. I released an airy laugh and wrote without the second hand, I tried to hide how I felt if I’m being honest, I didn’t think you wanted a relationship because of your job and those who may be after you, I didn’t want to be a burden. I once again showed him the journal, only for him to take it out of my hands when he was done reading. He held both sides of my face gently, my hand still cupping his, and leaned forward, “You are not a burden, never were, never will be. I know you are strong, I know what you are capable of. I don’t want you thinking that you have to hide anything to protect me.” Tears were gathering in my eyes as he held eye contact with me, when they fell, he was there to catch them and rub them away. He glanced down for a moment before coming to a conclusion and placing his lips onto mine. It was soft, as if he was worried he’d hurt me more, and yet it held all of the unspoken words that swirled around us both. When we parted, he placed his forehead onto mine, “We can protect each other, if you would like.” I opened my eyes and nodded, and then patted the spot next to me, allowing him to crawl under the covers. I slowly turned onto my side as Sam pulled me to his chest and started playing with his hair. We both let out content sighs at the peaceful atmosphere and started to doze off, “I love you (Y/N).” I cracked open my eyes and looked at him once more before giving him a peck on the lips and snuggling further into his chest. His chest rumbled as he let out a soft laugh, “I’ll take that as an ‘I love you too’.” I nodded to the best of my ability with my face being hidden in his shirt and we both fell asleep in each other's arms.

AN- Sorry it’s shorter than my other posts! I hope you enjoyed it!

#awesamedude x reader #c!awesamdude x reader #c!awesamdude #awesamdude #sam #sam x reader #dsmp

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acnelli · 3 years ago

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First Time Falling

This is my entry for the @hpqueerfest 2021. Thanks to the mods who hosted this! And a big thank you to my great beta-readers @nagemeikenu and @static-abyss who put up with my phone-writery (writing time is hard to come by these days).

This story was inspired by Prelude and Fugue by shes_gone, and it’s set in a world where Harry didn’t go to Hogwarts, but had been prepared for his destiny.

Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley Rating: T TW: strong language, mentions of war time, mentions of drug and alcohol consume Prompt: Falling in love for the first time as an adult (late 20’s-early 30’s) Summary: Harry Potter –Head-Auror and Savior of the Wizarding World– spontaneously asked out a cute redhead and it turned to so much more than he could have ever hoped for.

You can also read this on AO3 and FFN.

*** *** *** *** ***

Not bothering to knock, Ron Weasley marched into Hermione Granger’s office. The heavy mahogany door slammed against the wall, making Hermione jump up from her chair.

“Ron,” she shrieked as a bunch of paper fell off her desk. “What happened?”

Instead of providing his best friend with an explanation for his sudden intrusion, Ron paced back and forth. The panicked look in his eyes made Hermione assume the worst.

With one swift motion, Hermione stepped in front of the redhead, forcing him to stop his frantic pacing. “Ron, please talk to me,” she pleaded, taking his hand into hers. “What’s going on? Is someone hurt? Is your family okay?”

Hermione’s worried expression and the panic in her voice finally brought Ron to his senses. “No, don’t worry, Hermione,” he sighed as he closed her office door. “I’m sorry! But...do you have time for a quick cup of tea in the cafeteria?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. This report is giving me a headache and I need a break.”

Hermione grabbed her purse and gestured for Ron to lead the way.

“I swear, Ron, if you almost gave me a heart attack over something Quidditch related, I’ll hex you into next week and make your new Firebolt disappear forever,” Hermione added as they made their way down to the Ministry cafeteria.

Ron glanced over at the bushy-haired witch, suppressing a grin as he told her his distress was indeed about Quidditch. They grabbed their beverages and headed towards a free table. Gracing him with a dark look, Hermione gestured for Ron to finally tell her what’s going on.

“Harry Potter asked me out on a date!”

This statement caused Hermione’s drink to go down the wrong way, resulting in a violent coughing fit and her spitting out the tea.

“What?” she wheezed out between coughs, as Ron cleaned his face and shirt with his wand.

He waited patiently until Hermione recovered, both from the coughing fit and the shock. “See, even you don’t believe me,” Ron sighed, harshly rubbing his hands over his face, “I don’t blame you, though. I can’t believe it myself, after all.”

Finally being able to speak again, Hermione put her elbows on the small table and leaned forward, determined to not miss a single thing about this story. “Spill! How? When? Where? And don’t you dare to leave out even the smallest detail.”

Ron shook his head, still in disbelief about what had happened to him just twenty minutes ago. Not being able to wrap his head around it, he decided to tell Hermione today’s events from beginning to end.

“Today, Robertson sent me a memo to come to his office to discuss the ridiculous complaints about the Tornados/Harpies game last week,” Ron started and couldn’t help rolling his eyes about the things he had to put up with at work sometimes. “So, I went there, gave him my report about the match and a brief overview. Thank Merlin, he only asked his usual useless questions about referee bribery claims. I was ready to launch into a whole speech but he suddenly dismissed me and told me to write up a statement for the press.

“I was just on my way back to my office when I met Seamus. The fucking wanker had the nerve to claim the next Cannons match for himself. I know he did that just to spite me so, naturally, I gave him an ear full about it as we waited for the lift. We only noticed Harry Potter standing right behind us when we got inside the lift. I probably sounded like an idiot but Seamus and I kept the conversation up because I always get second-hand embarrassment when people stop talking if Potter walks by or joins the lift.”

Hermione patiently listened to his ramblings, restraining herself from telling him to get to the point already.

Ron sipped on his tea and shook his head. “You know what? I read too much into this. Just realised that I’m acting exactly as everyone else does. What’s the big deal? Just a bloke who wants to have a pint after work.”

Hermione stared at Ron, expecting him to go on with his story, but he just kept sipping his tea.

“Ron!”

“What?”

“How did he ask you out?” She accidentally raised her voice but Hermione was finally losing her patience with him.

“I told you, he most likely-”

“Just tell me the damn story, already!” Hermione snapped, blushing a little when she noticed the people on the other tables giving her funny looks.

“Alright,” Ron said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Calm down, barmy woman.”

“You're the one marching into my office like a lunatic. Spill it! Now!”

With a heavy sigh, Ron continued with his story, curling his hands around the tea mug to keep from fidgeting.

“Seamus had already gotten off at another level, so it was just me and Potter in there. I tried to avoid the awkward silence, so I asked him if he followed Quidditch and was going to listen to or even watch the Tornados match tonight. He said that he does follow Quidditch and that he intended to listen to the match at home but if I'd be up to it, we could listen to it at this new pub that just opened in Diagon. He totally caught me by surprise, but I must've agreed because he told me he'll meet me at the fireplaces at 5. Then he left the lift. Then I freaked out and came to your office.”

Ron marked the end of his story by taking another sip of his tea before he defiantly crossed his arms in front of him.

“Jesus, Harry Potter actually asked you out! Oh my God!” Hermione almost squealed, grasping one of Ron's arms.

“Nah! I don't think so anymore. I bet he just wanted to have a pint and was only being polite when he asked me to come along,” Ron said. “Who'd ask someone out like that anyway?”

“Someone looking for a partner?”

“Yeah, but think about it, Hermione. Why would he ask me out? The guy is not only fucking famous, he's also devilishly handsome. He could have anyone he wanted.”

“So?”

Ron looked at Hermione as though she'd just declared the desire to live as a chicken.

“So? So, why would someone ask me out while on a random stroll through the Ministry? Who'd think ‘Oh, that freakishly tall ginger with more freckles than skin looks kinda awkwardly cute. Let's try to get a leg over?'"

“I dated you,” Hermione interjected.

“You don't count.”

“Well, thank you!” Her sarcasm was all but ignored by Ron.

“I just know I'll embarrass myself tonight,” Ron insisted, looking quite unhappy. “Let's go back to work. I still have to write that useless report.”

“Devilishly handsome, hm?”

“Shut up!”

**** **** **** ****

Harry didn't know what had possessed him to ask the cute ginger out for a pint.

Maybe it had been the Prophet article speculating for the umpteenth time about when the Savior of the Wizarding World would finally settle down and make some black-haired, green-eyed babies. Rita Skeeter had many ideas about what worthy witch could conquer the heart of Harry Potter. All things considered, the article had probably not been the worst thing written about him so far.

Sometimes he wondered if he should've taken Sirius’ advice to feed the press and public meaningless details of his life. It wouldn't stop the constant speculations and made-up affairs, but it probably would reduce the paparazzi following him around, the crazy fans sending him love letters and maybe, they would find something more newsworthy than where Harry Potter bought his toilet paper.

But he hated the fact that people demanded this from him. He was 29 now, and while the great hype about him was over, he still seemed to be interesting enough to write about, even over a decade after his defeat of Voldemort.

He knew the majority of the Wizarding World was sincerely grateful for what he'd done. There were so many parents thanking him for the simple fact that they're still alive and able to see their children grow up.

It reminded him that it was all worth it. The sacrifices, the nearly friendless childhood, his secret life away from the public, the growing up with the knowledge that he might not live long enough to celebrate his 17th birthday. All of that had resulted in ending Voldemort once and for all.

When he'd destroyed the Dark Lord and his Horcruxes though, Harry’s hope of finally living a normal life got crushed soon after. In the post-war world, it had been next to impossible to lead a life like everyone else. Because of his childhood and his training by Alastor ‘Mad Eye’ Moody himself, he learned not to trust easily. And since occasions to make friends or interact with strangers had been few and far between, he never really learned what to look for in a friend.

He was well aware that he was complaining about a comfortable life. His parents had left him a respectable amount of gold, and Sirius bought him a flat in London after he graduated from Auror Academy. Maybe he'd gotten this job because of his fame and reputation, but he knew he deserved the position as Head Auror. There was hardly anyone with the same amount of training and experience he brought to the table, and he was under the impression the people working for him did genuinely like him as a boss. Two of them he even considered friends after all these years.

Aside from the two friends at work he also had his family. He had Sirius, Remus, Andromeda, Tonks and his godson, Teddy. He wasn't alone by any means, but he'd never met someone he could possibly fall in love with. Hell, aside from one of Tonks’ old friends from school and her father's attempts to set him up with several of his countless nieces—and later nephews when Harry told his family girls didn't do it for him—he'd never even dated. Toby—a fellow student from elementary school and the only friend his age—dragged him to Muggle pubs and clubs, resulting in the occasional snog or even a shag with a stranger. Needless to say, his first time hadn't exactly been romance novel material and it sure wasn't something he liked to think about. Sometimes, Harry feared that he would never fall in love, that he wasn't capable of developing those feelings for another person.

Those unpleasant thoughts combined with the Rita Skeeter article may have been the result of his sudden impulse to just go for it and ask the redhead out. But it also could have been the brilliant blue eyes, the kind, shy smile and the lean shoulders. Harry was sure, though, that the main reason for it had been the fact that this man hadn't treated him like a Messiah. It had just been an easy conversation, even if it had been only two minutes.

Harry hoped it would remain that way when they watched the game later. In fact, he could just brush it off as a friendly meeting with a fellow Ministry worker if Cute Ginger wasn't interested in anything more.

But when he thought about the redhead’s lopsided grin, Harry felt a foreign flutter in his stomach and he couldn't help but hope for more, even if it was just another visit to the pub.

**** **** **** ****

In the 30 years of Ron Weasley’s existence, he'd never been on time for something not work-related. Today, though, he was almost ten minutes early as he waited by the fireplaces for Harry Potter.

Again, he felt rather pathetic. For a hot second, he considered waiting in a nearby bathroom to pass the time, pretending to get to their meeting place just in time. But then he reminded himself that he wasn’t a petty teenager anymore, and even if Potter found it pathetic, Ron didn’t expect a repeat of tonight, anyway.

He decided to just treat this like a meet-up with Dean and Seamus every other Thursday after work. Just two guys, enjoying a couple of pints together, talking about Quidditch. Nothing special. Nothing to freak out over.

The atrium was busy as ever but he spotted Potter right away when the Head-Auror stepped out of the lift and made his way towards the fireplaces. He still wore his magenta work robes and Ron couldn't help but notice how sexy they looked on him.

“Hi!” Potter greeted Ron, smiling somewhat shyly. “Ready for some beer and Quidditch?”

“Sure! But I forgot to introduce myself earlier, so I figured I'd do that now,” Ron said, giving the dark haired man a smile in return, as he offered his hand for a proper introduction. “I'm Ron. Ron Weasley.”

“I'm Harry.”

**** **** **** ****

“No way! How did he get out of there?”

Harry barked out a laugh at Ron's tale of a night out with Seamus and Dean. His outburst was loud enough for the other guests of the pub to look in their direction. Ron found it amusing how a simple change into Muggle clothes, different glasses, and a slightly lighter hair colour resulted in no one recognizing the Boy-Who-Lived.

“Since it was a Muggle police station, Seamus had to spend the night there. Statute of Secrecy, and all. We picked him up the next morning and filled him in on what he'd done the night before, including showing everyone his pale arse.” Ron grinned deviously at the memory. “I invented some things for good measure. Unfortunately, Dean is too good for this world and told him a few hours later that I was taking the mickey.”

Harry shook his head, chuckling. “That reminds me of Remus searching the whole of London for Sirius, only to find him several hours later in a hidden spot on the roof. He was gazing at the stars and totally stoned. Combined with Firewhiskey, he didn't remember a single thing from that night.”

“Sirius?” Ron looked quite interested at the mention of his Godfather’s name. “Sirius, as in Sirius Black?”

“Yes. He was my Dad’s best friend. And he's my Godfather.”

“I'm just asking because I'm related to the Blacks. My grandfather married Cedrella Black.”

“Yes, I recognize the name. Her face got blasted off the family tree,” Harry said, and at Ron's raised eyebrow quickly added, “Sirius’ mother blasted everyone off that tree who didn't uphold the Black family's motto ‘Toujours pur’. So, Cedrella must have gone against the high and mighty Black Pureblood tradition.”

“Well,” Ron said, taking a swig of his beer, “she married a Weasley. I'm sure that alone was reason enough to disown her. The Weasleys have been notorious blood traitors since forever.”

“Sounds like your grandmother had good taste in men if you ask me.”

Harry winked at Ron, and the redhead felt the burning blush creeping up his neck.

Ron was once again amazed at how little time it had taken him to lose his nervousness. But Harry Potter made it very easy for him. Harry was confident, yet humble and polite. His humor didn't have Ron's sarcastic edge, but the redhead found Harry delightfully witty with a good amount of sass.

Ron didn't know what he expected but it was undeniable how easy it was to talk to Harry. He could only hope the raven-haired man enjoyed this just as much as he did. Harry laughed at his jokes and seemed genuinely interested in Ron's more-than-mundane life.

As much as Ron tried to see this as a meeting with a good friend, he couldn't help the warm feeling in his chest every time Harry smiled at him or his leg accidentally bumped against Ron's. And if the alcohol hadn't gone to his head already, making him imagine things, Harry's eyes kept flitting down to Ron's lips.

When the woman behind the bar announced the final round, they decided to call it a night since it was one of Harry's work Saturdays tomorrow.

As they ventured out of the crowded pub and into the cool night air, Ron was disappointed about the evening coming to an end. Time had flown and he was sure they could've talked for several more hours.

“Would you mind if I walk you home?” Harry asked just as Ron wanted to wish him a good night.

Ron nodded, not being able to suppress his smile as Harry obviously remembered him mentioning that he only lived a few blocks away.

They kept their pace slow and walked a little closer to each other than necessary, their hands bumping against one another. Every touch sent a jolt through Ron's body and he wanted nothing more than to take Harry's hand.

Eventually, they reached their destination. During the entire walk home Ron had gathered all of his Gryffindor courage to ask Harry out, this time for an official date.

“I- um,” Ron started, rubbing one hand against the back of his neck to ease his nerves. “I really enjoyed this evening and I was wondering...Maybe I got this all wrong, but you seem interested, and well, I'm interested too. And if you're not, that's totally fine. But...caniseeyouagain?”

And before Ron's face had the time to go completely crimson, he got his answer as Harry took his hand to pull him close, leaned up and kissed him.

Harry pulled back from Ron's lips, his stunning, green eyes slightly darker than usual and holding a hopeful glint.

Ron didn't give himself the chance to overthink as he put his hand on the back of Harry's neck and kissed him again. A deep groan escaped him when Harry licked at Ron's bottom lip and Harry took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

Ron was positive that he'd never experienced something more incredible than kissing Harry Potter. The only things he was capable of paying attention to were Harry and the wild thumping of his heart. And while it was exhilarating and new and positively made him weak in the knees, it also felt a lot like coming home.

Having lost all sense of time, Ron couldn't tell if they'd kissed for a minute or several hours when they broke apart. Harry's hands still gripped his shirt and Ron let his own hands glide from Harry's dark hair down over strong, well-defined shoulders to finally rest at his hips.

Both of them tried to catch their breath and Harry, who finally let go of Ron's shirt to put his arms around him, smiled up at Ron almost shyly.

“Yes, you can see me again,” Harry said, grinning.”What are your plans for tomorrow night?”

“Well,” Ron pretended to think about it for a second, “I thought I'd do this.”

And with that, he leaned in to kiss Harry again.

“I think that's a brilliant idea.”

**** **** **** ****

Just as he turned off the radio and grabbed his coat from the rag beside the door, a loud knock sounded through Harry's now quiet flat.

“Ten minutes early. Eager, aren't we?” Harry said as he opened the door for a tall ginger with a picnic basket in one hand and a broom in the other.

“Says the one waiting right beside the door like a good dog.”

Ron shoved his way inside, putting down the basket and broom before pulling Harry into his arms.

“Happy Birthday,” Ron murmured against the other man's lips. “And I thought I was supposed to give you a present, not the other way around?”

Harry pulled back a little, apparently confused. Ron grinned at him and squeezed Harry's arse. “Thanks for wearing my favourite pants today.”

Chuckling, Harry pointed at the broom Ron had brought with him. “No way I'll fly on a broom in these. Good thing I also packed my joggers.”

Ron hadn't told him where they were going for Harry's Birthday. He'd just instructed Harry to be ready at 9 in the morning, so they'd be back in time for dinner at Grimmauld Place with Harry's family.

Only two months had passed since their first kiss, but Harry already felt as though he'd known Ron for much longer. Every kiss, every touch, all the teasing and banter, and late night talks felt so completely natural, yet blissfully exciting.

“Come on, grab your broom. We're on a tight schedule.”

Ron winked at him and before Harry knew it, they were standing in the middle of a giant Quidditch pitch.

There wasn't a single soul besides them, but Harry immediately recognized the giant Hogwarts House banners from his family's keepsakes of their school years. Aside from that fateful day when he'd fought Voldemort on those grounds, he'd never visited the school. Not before, not after.

Harry tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. The surprise must be the result of one of their late night talks, when Harry confessed that his deepest desire while growing up had been to go to Hogwarts.

“Are we allowed to be here or do I need to arrest you for breaking into school grounds?”

Arms wrapped around him from behind and Harry could feel Ron smiling against the back of his head. “I wouldn't be opposed to playing the big bad Auror and the naughty Suspect later, but this is actually 100% legal. Having contacts with important Quidditch officials has its perks sometimes. And my annual chess game against McGonagall helped too, I suppose.”

“Okay then,” Harry said, lifting one of Ron's hands to his mouth to brush his lips against his knuckles. “Fill me in on that plan of yours.”

Ron let go of him and reached for their brooms, tossing one of them at Harry. “I thought we'd fly over the grounds first, so I can show you everything from above. The castle looks fucking amazing from up there and the Great Lake is a sight to die for when the water reflects the sun.”

Ron mounted his broom and flew in slow circles around Harry as he continued to talk. “I hope you don't mind that I invited your family for dinner. But I thought we could all show you the castle, introduce you to our favourite spots and secret places. Andromeda can show us the Slytherin common room. I've never been there myself. I'll show you the kitchen first. That's where I'll cook dinner later while the others show you around.”

Jumping down from his broom, Ron looked at Harry with a mixture of excitement and reluctance as he rubbed the back of his neck. It was a telltale sign of the redhead being nervous, Harry had learned in the last weeks.

“So, I thought this to be fitting for a 30th Birthday. I wasn't sure what to get you that you don't already have, and I reckoned this might be fun.”

Harry didn't know what to say and his silence only made Ron doubt his plan more. It always baffled Harry how Ron didn't realize how wonderful he was. He wished Ron could see himself through Harry's eyes.

Right at that moment, as Harry looked into Ron's blue eyes, it hit him. In fact, he knew he'd been harbouring these feelings inside him for weeks now, but only now he could see it with shining clarity.

He was falling in love.

The feeling was new, something he'd never experienced, but still he recognized it for what it was.

Love.

***

#hpqueerfest #mine #my stories #my fanfics #rarry #rarry fanfic #rarry fanfiction #hp #hp fanfic #harron #ronarry #harry potter #ron weasley #harry x ron #ron x harry #ron and harry #harry and ron #ron/harry #harry/ron

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potteresque-ire · 4 years ago

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More ask answer about Word of Honour (山河令, WoH) and the so-called “Dangai 101 phenomenon” under the cut ~ with all the M/M relationships shown on screen, does it mean improved acceptance / safety for the c-queer community?

Due to its length (sorry!), I’ve divided the answer into 3 parts: 1) Background 2) Excerpts from the op-eds 3) Thoughts This post is PART 3 💚. As usual, please consider the opinions expressed as your local friendly fandomer sharing what they’ve learned, and should, in no ways, be viewed as necessarily true. :)

(TW: homophobic, hateful speech quoted)

Here are the key points I’ve picked up from these op-eds:

* The state believes Danmei can turn young people queer. * The state also believes Dangai dramas can turn young men “feminine” to suit the taste of Dangai’s young, largely female audience. * The state views queerness in both sexes, and androgynous beauty in men as negative traits. * The state is wary of Danmei and Dangai’s popularity and wishes to contain them as subcultures. * The state is particularly annoyed by how the Dangai dramas have achieved their popularity with CP-focused promotions and marketing tactics, in which the actors are involved and blur the line between fictional and real-life suggestions of queerness.

What do I think of, concerning the acceptance and/or safety of … everything, with the above opinions given by the state media about Dangai?

* For c-queers, I don’t think things are different from before—these op-eds didn’t change the big picture for me. The op-eds taking traditional BL characterisation for Dangai / Danmei means the state’s intended focus of the genres is not its queerness; this is not unexpected, as the established review system is supposed to have removed the show’s queer elements, and to characterise those elements as queer would be a critique against the NRTA.

While unpleasant, the veiled, antagonistic view towards non-traditional gender expressions and homosexuality isn’t new: the state has long believed popular culture can turn its young male audience “feminine”; the NRTA directive that bans homosexual content from visual media already makes clear its stance that homosexuality is, while not criminal, something that is Not Good in its eyes.

A (very) good thing that can be said, I think, is that none of the op-eds explicitly disapprove of the queer elements, the things that got away from being censored—of which there were, arguably, many in WoH. While Article O2a noted such “playing edge ball” (note the articles use this term to avoid mentioning “queer”), the comment right after was neutral / positive (“provide their audience with room for imagination”). Article O3, meanwhile, acknowledged that Dangai can be imitated by introducing suggestive atmosphere between male characters in their plot layout, thereby admitting that suggestive atmosphere between male characters in their plot layout is a defining trait of Dangai—and it didn’t say anything bad about it; the criticism was only for non-Dangai playacting Dangai.

This signals, to me at least, that Dangai can continue to be the cover for queer relationships to reach its audience for now — which is, perhaps, the best case scenario for continued queer representation on TV, given the current sociopolitical climate.

* For Danmei / Dangai, I’d also venture to say the genres are safe. Upcoming Dangais may need to undergo stricter / further reviews (if the rumours surrounding Immortality 皓衣行 are to be believed), and whether they can still achieve explosive popularity after such reviews remains a question; the genres themselves, however, will likely survive.

Article O1 was a very positive, very enthusiastic review of WoH; its determined focus on the show’s aesthetics (as TU’s review) signals to me that the state approved of the genre’s take on aesthetics—which, again, also includes the aesthetics of a world cleansed of its real problems, which also aligns with the NRTA’s directive on TV / web dramas to focus on the positives of life in the country (Previously translated in this post: D12: … They [Pie note: the dramas] cannot place too strong an emphasis on social conflicts, must showcase the beautiful lives of the commoners.). Article O2b was very critical at places, but actually tried to sever Danmei / Dangai from its major complaint, argued that the attention-grabbing gimmicks path was taken * instead of * aspiring to positively, proactively guide and display Danmei culture, therefore positioning Danmei on the “good side”. While Danmei was named a (bad) influence for potentially turning youths queer (and predator, by the cartoon) in Article O2a, no mention was made of eliminating the genre both in the same Article or its editorial (Article O2b). The focus was placed, instead, on the subculture’s “containment”, and how it has been broken for “Rot Culture” to reach mainstream. The implied solution to Danmei’s “bad influence”, therefore, was to re-contain rather than eliminate.

[Logically, of course, this makes little sense. Blaming Danmei on turning youths queer is already confusing correlation and causation—youths may be drawn to Danmei because they are queer, rather than Danmei turning them queer. Re-containment, meanwhile, suggests that the state, which isn’t a fan of gays, is okay with Danmei turning kids gay… as long as there aren’t a lot of kids.

However, I’m hoping to tease out what the state may do, not whether the state is logically sound.]

Article O3 had the harshest wording on Danmei—“the canon and the Rot Culture behind it still hides large amounts of pornographic, violent content…”; “this vulgar custom of “playing edge ball” as a means to tempt, to lead the audience into indulging in fantasies [Pie note: sexual fantasies implied by the idiom 想入非非] have spread from visual media production…” . Still, no word on axing the genre, only containment.

* For CP culture, specifically, actor-character based CPs that are promoted with the dramas: while I don’t see it on the chopping board yet, these op-eds are, I believe, warnings for those in charge of the promotion and marketing of the upcoming Dangai dramas to tread carefully. I find the reach of these warnings difficult to predict still, because these warnings can be genuine—as in, the government truly believes the CP-focused promotion and marketing tactics are morally objectionable—or they can be more for show, in that the true reason behind the warnings is that CP-focused promotions, which also put a heavy focus on in-drama candies, make the NRTA / censorship board look like a joke and the government had to put up some objections to save face.

In all cases, companies will likely need to talk to the government to nail down its stance. Whether to heed the warnings afterwards, tone down or eliminate the CP-focused promotions will require a thorough risk-benefit analysis. After all, CP culture appears to sits at the heart of the money-making machinery of Dangai dramas. The expenditure of fans is mainly to support their favourite actors and see their interactions, and money is, ultimately, what Dangai 101 is about.

Finally, for the sake of completion ~ how likely did these op-eds reflect the actual opinions of the state? Here are the sources of the articles:

Article O1: 上觀新聞, which is under Liberation Daily 解放日報, the official daily newspaper of the Shanghai Committee of the Chinese Communist Party.

Article O2: 半月談 Banyue Tan, a state-controlled biweekly magazine published by the Xinhua News Agency, the official state-run press agency of China.

Article O3: 光明日報 Enlightenment Daily, a newspaper associated with Central Committee of the Communist Party of China (中共中央機關報).

None of them are of the calibre of People’s Daily (official newspaper of the Central Committee of the Chinese Communist Party). However, they’re all very well-respected state-sponsored sources. Banyue Tan does require an asterisk ~ while affiliated with the Xinhua News Agency, the massive influence of which has earned it its nickname “the world's biggest propaganda agency”, Banyue Tan‘s authority on this particular issue of Danmei/Dangai has been somewhat undermined by a … strange (?) trivia to end this super long piece: the magazine has also been caught in the controversy surrounding 227. Due to its pro-TU, pro-Gg stance, antis have insisted there are Gg fans within its writer’s ranks, who have used the state-sponsored publication for their private, support-Gg purposes. To this day, the argument is ongoing—with the criticism of Danmei in Article O2 sparking another round of “discussion” due to its previous approval of TU—and the lead anti is a well-known international politics professor and CCP (Chinese Communist Party) mouthpiece named Shen Yi (沈逸), whose claim to fame was the US government cancelling his visa and denying him entry due to suspected espionage …

[Banyue Tan was not the only state-sponsored publication caught in 227′s cross-fire. This is one of the reasons why some political watchers have suspected 227 to have a political component, that some form of political power struggle was happening in the post-227 chaos and disguised as the fan war.

While the truth may never be revealed, one thing is for certain ~ fan wars are about the worst things fans can do for their favourite idols, by lending space for such veiled conflicts to happen, by lending the names of their idols / their idols’ fans to the actually warring parties who may not wish to reveal who they are.]

[Okay okay, I will shut up now :) ].

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 <-- YOU ARE HERE

#pie metas #yizhan #bjyx

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spiderling-space · 4 years ago

Note

Henlo Liho-san~! A new follower of yours uwu May I ask for hcs of how the dorm leaders would react with having an f!s/o who is mostly respectful and polite, suddenly about to throw hands with someone as they may or may not have said or complained about the dorm head they were dating. It was not a compliment in any way or form- I hope I didn't cross over any rules! But if I had to pick 5 out of 7 of them, it's Riddle, Azul, Idia, Kalim, and Vil. Thanks a bunch if you notice this~! Good Luck!!♡♡

Hey yo Nocturne! I know of you from liking I and Brew’s OC (twisted-whimsies): Mozerella Trein and a couple TW related posts of mine.

Prefects and Vice Prefects are exception from character limit.

After finishing this, I realized I wrote something between a ficlet and headcanon. I hope you’ll like it though 💕

My German knowledge is bugging me to write Vil’s surname with ö instead of o yet my order-loving side is telling me to stick to how it’s written in TW

Before I start I’m gonna add a quote from a fandom of mine 👀 one look at my OG blog would reveal which fandom it is.

“Fallaces sunt rerum species”

Meaning: The appearances of things are deceptive

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle can handle himself. At least he could before his overblot episode. No body dared to talk behind his back.

But now he holds back, not using his unique magic frequently anymore which caused some students think he became too lenient and a couple students started to abuse this leniency

Every time someone tries his patience he counts to 10 internally or just ignore them. Don’t get him wrong, he still sticks to rules and makes his dorm follow the rules but he cannot force people to stop talking about him

Today is going to one of the days when he would ignore any bad mouthing because he is with (Y/N), the sweetest person he ever met

(Y/N) already saw at his worst when he overblotted. He doesn’t want her to see any more incidents such that.

He and (Y/N) decided to take a walk in Rose Gardens as a date. Then decided to get into Rose Maze, holding hands strictly for to not get lost.

“Prefect Rosehearts became such a softie. He is no longer fit to be our prefect.” “He never was. Mommy Issues needs to go back to kindergarten.”

(Y/N) and Riddle were in East side of Rose Maze when they heard 2 Heartslabyl students talking which made (Y/N) stop in her track. Riddle tugged her hand to move on but she didn’t budge.

“Riddle, honey, either push away those bushes or I’ll climb over it and have a nice chat with them.”

“There is no need.” — “okay then I’m climbing”

And she did. Riddle didn’t know how but she managed to go to other side of bushes by climbing to them.

“Hey jackasses! Would you like to say that again?” The two students were shocked to see Riddle’s girlfriend jump from above. “Wh- what?”

“I asked if you wanted to say those to my face.” And no answer.

Meanwhile Riddle was on the other side of bush walls, listening what’s happening.

“Did Riddle or did he not manage to increase Heartslabyl’s average grade?” “He did...” “Did he or did he not helped your dorm to have better ranking at Magift?” “He did...” “Did he treat you unfair ever since he fixed how he acted?” “No...” “Then what makes you say he is unfit? Is it because he is more tolerant on rules? Is it because he cares how his dorm mates feel?” No answer again. “I hope you come to your senses now because next time I hear something like this will be the first and last time you taste my wrath. Are we clear?” — “Yes ma’am!”

(Y/N) climbed over the bush again and landed in front of Riddle. With a kiss to his cheek, “Just because you give less punishment doesn’t mean you need to let people bully you. If anyone else acts this way, I’ll have a talk with them.”

She held his hand and pulled him into the maze again. Meanwhile Riddle was still wondering how his girlfriend climbed over a maze’s wall.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is used to people bad mouthing about him back in his palace. While in Savanaclaw, his dorm mates respected him and didn’t dare to oppose him. That is until they saw his vulnerable side during his overblot accident.

He heard a couple dorm mates say “He can’t do anything by himself.” “Good for nothing.” “All that lazy lion does is sleep.” “He must have lack brains to repeat the same year over and over again.”

He is used to ignoring them and sleeping it off. And his favorite pillow, (Y/N), helped him to dismiss their thoughts.

Leona only asked (Y/N) out because he figured she would be great body pillow. Certainly not her lively and cheerful attitude, nor her bright smile.

Leona asked (Y/N) out for a night date in Savanaclaw. It’s because he wanted to nap in his dorm. It’s absolutely not that Savanaclaw lounge looks romantic at night.

When (Y/N) arrived, she unfortunately heard those.

Leona tugged her arm to lead her to where their date suppose to take but no avail.

“Hold my purse, kitten.” (Y/N) handed her purse to Leona and went where those dorm members stand.

“Hey there is something in your face!” The main jerk looked up “Huh?” Proceeded with a punch to his face. “It was PAIN!” And ended with the guy falling to ground, holding his nose.

“Does anyone else have something on their faces?” The remaining ones shook their head in NO. “Good.” She turned on her heels and went to Leona’s side.

All Leona could do was admire her right hook. He did not think how she wouldn’t feel out of blue in Afterglow Savannah if she were to live there because women in his hometown are strong and fighters.

🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙

Azul Ashengrotto

(Y/N) first caught Azul’s eye when she sat down for 7 hours to read every single detail in his contract and demanded a change in certain conditions. Azul refused to make contract with her then offered her a job in Mostro Lounge.

With persuasion from the twins, Azul gathered courage to ask (Y/N) out. And she accepted.

They often stayed late hours in Mostro Lounge to spend some alone time.

After their quick date followed by closing of Mostro Lounge, Azul walked arm in arm with (Y/N) until the mirror passage. As they were walking, 2 Octavinelle student were messing around.

“Look at me! I’m the crybaby who hides behind two eels!” — “No one is making contract, I’mma cry now!” — “Maybe I can turn my crying into money. I can sell all the ink I cry!” “Nice one dude!”

One look to Azul’s face, (Y/N) understood he would deal with them either personally or the twins would play with them.

Not today Satan!

(Y/N) let Azul’s arm go and slowly approached the duo. “I am (Y/N), you can’t insult my boyfriend like that; prepare to die... socially I mean...” — “What are you saying?”

“I don’t have patience, time nor crayons to explain this to you but I’ll let you on a secret. Sometimes a nasty rumor, which doesn’t have to be true, can ruin someone’s entire school life. Maybe telling everyone your secret wish that you once asked from Azul or you offering a different type of payment to teachers to pass the grade.” — “You can’t do that!” — “I can and I will unless you cut the crap, ask for forgiveness and work for free in Mostro Louge for a week.” — “It’s a deal!”

Azul came to (Y/N)’s side as the two boys run away. Azul once again saw his angelfish using her wits to get what she wants. He knows she didn’t need to do that but he is flattered by the fact that his girlfriend wants to protect him.

🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞🌞

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim asked (Y/N) out after spending time together after Jamil overblotted.

He is still the sunshine bean that brings smile to everyone’s faces. (Y/N) is as cheerful as Kalim and that’s why he hit it off

Kalim took (Y/N) to another carpet ride as a date. She loves the feeling of wind on her face on top clouds.

As they returned to the dorm, they heard a couple students talking.

“I don’t care what Jamil did. He was right! Kalim is unfit to represent us. After he became prefect, we became the last at everything.” — “How many Kalim can change a light bulb? None because he is too idiot and too incapable to change one. Hehehehe”

(Y/N) saw tears building up on Kalim’s eyes then she snapped. She made carpet to fly over them in law altitude then she jumped down in front of them. “Surprise motherfuckers!” Before anyone can understand what happened. (Y/N) kicked the one that made bulb joke between his legs then held and twist the ear of the other two. “You have 10 seconds to reconsider what you just talked. I suggest not to waste time.”

The trio tried to dismissed what they said but the glare they received made them comply. “Prefect Kalim, we are sorry to make fun of you.”

Kalim as the personification of sunbeams forgave them. Then turned his attention to his beloved. He was impressed by how she jumped down and was ready to protect him without any hesitation. He never thought someone as kind and happy person as her could hide a fighter in her. Not going to lie, he loves seeing this side of hers

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

Vil Schönheit

Being with Vil is exhausting. Don’t get her wrong, it’s not him (Y/N) is complaining. It’s the people around them.

(Y/N) started paying more attention to her appearance

(Y/N) was waiting for Vil to get ready, sitting on his bed. Vil had free time that day and they were going out.

As they went out of the room, whispering ensued as always but this time, for the first time, a Pomefiore student bad mouthed about Vil.

“He is compensating his wretched personality with his looks!”

Vil isn’t someone to care opinions of a no-mark but (Y/N) is

“Hold my earrings, my love.” (Y/N) took out her earrings and handed them to Vil. “I’m going to snatch his wig!” — “He’s not wearing a wig...”

“I take it you weren’t burned with overabundance of schooling. You think you’re a Gucci but you’re not even Lacoste. Now apologize before I think your face needs a makeover.” — “Gucci? Lacoste?” — “And I suggest hide your jealousy better. You can’t get near Vil as a fan and you try to make up for it by talking about something that you have no idea on. Honestly I am jealous of people who haven’t met you.”

(Y/N) waves back the boy, going back to Vil’s side then putting her earrings again.

Vil is quite pleased what has occurred. Not only he saw how (Y/N) can destroy someone with just words but he also saw a glimpse of what she thinks of him. Maybe he should hire some people to insult him so he can see this side of hers again.

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Idia Shroud

Idia tries everything he can to stay in his room but there is an anime con that he and (Y/N) are going so he needs to get out of his room.

Idia and (Y/N) dressed up as his favorite anime couple.

Idia left his room voluntarily without any compulsory reason! It became a quick hit topic in Ignihyde.

Idia and (Y/N) went to anime-con and Ortho tagged along to record the ordeal.

They had to return early because some drunk in the con spilt juice on (Y/N).

So they returned NRC then Ignihyde. Ortho left for somewhere as Idia and (Y/N) walked in Ignihyde lounge.

“He doesn’t even go Dorm meeting but doesn’t have a problem with going a stupid con! Idia is an embarrassment to Ignihyde! All he does is play games and ramble about them!”

(Y/N) coughed gathering attention from the group.

Idia freaked out by being in highlight, hand pulled his chest, eyes widened.

“Baby, get behind me.” (Y/N) stepped in front of Idia and strutted to the Ignihyde student that was shit talking. “Pick a God and pray.”

The boy gulped. “Wh-What?!”

“Did I stutter?”

“I don’t know what—“ He threw his hands to air in frustration. (Y/N) grabbed his wrist, twisting and pulling his arm. The momentum caused the boy to fell face forward. (Y/N) still holding his arm twisted, “Now, dear, you’ll apologize and promise that you’ll never speak of Idia that way. Then get out of my face or else..” — “Yes ma’am!” The boy did as he was told.

Idia couldn’t guess in a million years that his goody two shoes girlfriend was capable of pulling this stunt. What he saw right now made him think the fighter beautiful ladies in anime. It was like a dream come true for him.

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Malleus Draconia

People feared Malleus for a really long time that he couldn’t remember anything else.

People avoided and tend to talk behind his back yet those didn’t reach insult level.

Who was stupid enough to dare that?

Malleus asked (Y/N) if she wanted to explore Diasomnia dorm and hear about the gargoyles of Diasomnia.

Of course she would love it. She loves when Malleus goes on about gargoyles for hours. And she is the only member in his club. Plus nightly strolls are their dates.

“He has no friends and no body loves him. For goodness’ sake, his intimating aura makes rest of dorm unapproachable! Can’t he just be gone already!?”

No genius is needed to know who that Diasomnia student was talking about.

Malleus’ mood turned sour immediately. He could curse that boy but this would only prove those wretched rumors.

(Y/N) finds Malleus’ sulking face extremely attractive (he is too attractive to be real) but no one has any right to upset her beloved.

“I’m about to end this man’s whole career.”

“Dear, wait me here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Off (Y/N) went to defend Malleus’ honor.

“Hi there! Couldn’t help but hear you. Have you ever thought you have no friends because you’re an ass?” — “Who do you think you are? Oh it’s you.” — “It’s me Mario!” — “Huh???”

“Now now, let’s talk shall we? All you do is complain yet you don’t do anything to improve anything. You hold others accountable when you fail while there is no one but you to blame. You’re so wrapped in your tiny bubble that you can’t see outside world. That’s what small minded people do. Whoever told you to be yourself simply couldn’t give you any worse advice.” The guy was left speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. “Close your mouth or else you might swallow a fly.”

(Y/N) went back to Malleus side, winking at him. His heart skipped a beat, thinking this was such a queen act. Defending her beloved with her words. To be fair, Malleus finds everything (Y/N) does a fitting trait for a queen, the way she rambles, snorts, breaths, smiles...

Malleus only wishes he met (Y/N) ages ago.

#riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #pomefiore #ignihyde #diasomnia #prefect #female reader #headcanons #heartslabyul

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wanderingchocolateeclair · 3 years ago

Text

A Frayed Thread of Hope

[Part 3] (this was written quite a while ago, just a heads up for the quality of it)

Ao3 Link here! :)

Finally got round to transferring and posting this chapter to here!!! It’s taken a little while, but I’m hoping that this being in here might remind and motivate me a little more to write the next part out...the fic is up on ao3 and will be updated on there first when I get round to it and then transferred over here at some point too :)

Tagging (you can ignore if you’d like, or tell me if ya wanna be tagged or taken off the list. This is just a repost of a chapter that’s already up on ao3 so sorry if you’ve already read it 😅 I also haven’t posted in a while so sorry if I’ve accidentally tagged you or forgotten to tag): @kouricaesar @chaotic-trash-can @kiriderp @theshisthings

TW: slightly graphic description of injury, mentions of blood, slight mention of nausea, a lot of crying and sad.

——————————————————

(Flashback)

‘No no no, please-’ Shinya panicked as he heard the lack of response coming from Jeanist’s side of the raid. Minutes prior to this, he had felt his heart drop and a ringing sound echoed through his head. He knew that this was not a good sign, but pushed it away as he helped to apprehend the LoV. ‘Please, please be okay...’

Dammit. He knew that he should’ve tried to stop him. He saw it in his eyes...those eyes...his eyes. Tsunagu knew that something was going to happen and that the worst part would hit his team, he always knew when the worst would happen, and it always had to happen to him.

‘That’s why he looked at me like that...Dammit....DAMMIT! Shinya, you are such an idiot!’ Shinya’s mind was racing as he made his way towards Kamino with Endeavour, where the other team was based.

“We can only hope that we are not too late.” Endeavour said harshly, knowing that he had to reassure the other man but unaware of how to do so.

Shinya simply hummed in response, taking a large leap from one building to another. He wasn’t really listening, his mind was way too busy to hear anything but his own thoughts. ‘Tsunagu....why? You knew that this would happen, and you knew the pain I’d be in once I found out...so why?’ He found himself trailing off into thought, ‘heh....nevermind....even if you could answer me now, your words would always stay the same - that it was “the only way I’d prove myself to be heroic” by taking a hit that could kill you, for the sake of others....’

“Dammit....”

(end of flashback)

————————————

Shinya was torn away from his rapid train of thought by the sound of footsteps hurdling towards him and Tsunagu’s family. Before even he could react, cold hands grabbed his shoulders and shook him gently, a pair of red wings knocking over several items along the way.

“Edgeshot-senpai! You’re okay! Well, you look okay! Are you okay?” The flustered young man exclaimed in a panicked manner, blond hair ruffled across his head as messily as a bird’s nest.

“Ah, Hawks...yes...Yes, I’m alright. Ju-just still a little shocked, I guess...what about you? What are you doing here?” Shinya shakily answered, his mind still thinking back to what happened.

The winged hero sighed in relief, giving a small apologetic bow to the family that was scattered around him. “Isn’t it obvious? I heard the news and came as quickly as I could! All Might-san retiring, Endeavour-san...moving...up the ranks...” Hawks eyed the end of the corridor wearily, “it’s all a lot to take in right now...for everyone.”

The ninja hero nodded, gesturing for the other to take a seat. Hawks simply shook his head in response and mumbled something about feeling too uncomfortable to sit down in this situation, making Shinya chuckle lightly in agreement.

“Hey....Shinya-san...”

“Hm?”

“...Tsunagu...” Hawks trailed off, staring cautiously at the door standing opposite them.

The mention of the fiber hero’s name caused Shinya to snap his head up a little too fast, making him wince at the sudden pain that shot through his neck.

Hawks paused for a moment, before slowly carrying on. “Tsunagu-san....will...will he be okay?” He looked at Shinya with sad eyes, nervously fiddling with a small marble that he held in his hands.

“I-” Shinya’s voice cracked as he tried to find an answer, looking down at his own hands, that were still bloody and shaken. “...we don’t know...we- we can only hope...” he blinked rapidly to try and clear the tears that blurred his vision once again. ‘Not here, dammit, not here. You are so weak, Shinya, don’t cry- you can’t...’

They shared a small silence, standing there, gazing at the closed door in front of them. Just as one of them was to try and break this silence, a rather loud buzzing came from the winged hero’s jacket, causing him to fumble around for his phone.

After exchanging a brief conversation with the mysterious caller, Hawks looked up at Shinya apologetically and lightly grabbed his shoulder. “Ah, sorry, urgent call from the commission...I gotta go...”

Shinya smiled slightly. “Of course. That’s understandable. Thanks....thanks for checking up on us....”

“Yeah,well, someone’s gotta do it. We wouldn’t want our favourite parental ninja to pass out from shock all by himself!” Hawks exclaimed brightly, his wings spreading out even more, almost hitting Ai in the face. “Oh, Rumi sends her regards, by the way. She’s busy so she couldn’t come in person, but she said for me to tell you ‘if that jeans bastard dies I’ll kill him, give him a good thump ‘round the head when he wakes up, will ya’ so....uh....yeah! Um....well, please make sure you let us all know how he’s doing...”

“Heh, yeah I will, don’t worry,” Shinya chuckled at the other’s enthusiasm. Waving at the winged hero, he watched as he briskly disappeared from his sight.

Shinya sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, his mind overflowing with doubts and worries yet again. He thought back on the sight of Kamino, destroyed and in ruins. All might’s thin and frail form, barely holding back that monster....and.....Tsunagu... ‘dammit! Stop it!’

——————————————

(flashback continued)

As they arrived, they realised that this was no ordinary villain, and that the LoV had already managed to escape. Shinya scanned the area anxiously, trying hard to mask his panic but failing to do so. ‘Where......where are you....I’m here, please, Tsunagu where are you....’ he tore his attention from the ruins and glared at the madman that was loitering in the air. He was absolutely filled with rage, his body shaking, he could barely breathe. He wanted to lunge forward and completely rip this...thing...apart. He wanted to completely let go, just like he did all those years ago, this time with no regrets. But he knew that it was not his fight to do so. He knew that he was only there for support, with the rest of the heroes, to help All Might.

A huge gust of wind from one of All for One’s blasts knocked him over, sending him tumbling backwards. He was never brilliant at going against power types (he’s a light little man, leave him alone) but this was troublesome. Bracing himself for the impact of a harsh landing, he was startled when he felt himself being caught by something wrapping around his arm.

“Edgeshot-senpai!” Kamui called out, catching the other man before he could hit the ground. He set them down, away from the main fight, sheltered by a huge chunk of a building. His shoulder was occupied by a rather unconscious Mount Lady, but he had another in his arms...

Shinya gave a brief nod of thanks, before noticing the condition of the lanky figure that hung loosely from the other hero’s grasp. ‘Oh please- please, oh god, no...’ he felt his heart drop.

He started panicking as he took in the sight in front of him. Eyes lifeless, staring out at him. Hair, messy and dirty. Tsunagu’s body laying limply, now on the ground, his arms and costume bloody and torn. What’s worse, is the gaping hole that was present in the middle of his stomach. He wasn’t breathing, he wasn’t moving, it was as if his life had been drained straight from his body.

Shinya felt as if he was going to be sick, his body shaking too hard for him to stand. This feeling....this feeling was way too familiar. He was so worried in finding him, but when he finally found him...when his partner’s body was lifted from the rubble...he felt even more hurt than before. He started choking on the tears that he couldn’t hide....that he wouldn’t hide....gasping for air as he stared at Tsunagu’s broken form, imitating that of a torn rag doll, riding the edge of death as if it were a knife with which to cut the rest of the strings that connected him to his life.

“No no no, please, no- not again....not again....why- why? Tsunagu, why you....why my family? Why is it always my family?! The people I love....mother...father...my....why did it have to be you?!” He blurted out, unable to contain the rest of his pain. He held onto Tsunagu’s unconscious form, clutching it tighter as more and more tears soak into his mask. He would hide his anguish, but he didn’t care. Not anymore. He didn’t care who saw him crying. He didn’t care who heard his silent screams and cries of lost hope. He ignored everything around him as he hugged his partner closer.

“Senpai....I’m sorry....I’m...we really need to get him to hospital....he’s...it’s...” Kamui spluttered out quietly. He watched as the ninja hero lost all of his hope and felt his heart beat rapidly at the thought of what else could happen. “We are...we’re out of sight from everyone else...it’s- it’s...”

Shinya sniffled. He looked up at the younger man, his eyes still blurry and unfocused. “Thank you....I’m sorry....I....”

“No...it’s okay....I understand.” Kamui replied, cradling Takeyama in his own arms gently.

(end of flashback)

————————————

His thoughts became muffled, his ears ringing, and only one sound echoing through his head.

“Shinya...”

It was Tsunagu’s voice. He snapped back to reality, looking around anxiously.

“Shinya.....I’m sorry...”

16 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

I NEED TO SEE THAT LUPIN VS GREYBACK FIGHT HOLY SHIT THE WOLF IS A N G R Y ALSO- sirius’s reaction after the game 😏 maybe if you feel comfy with that if not it’s fine i just feel like sirius would go buck wild if he saw remus fight lmao. o r——— remus being vv bossy and dominating and- you get the idea lmfao. work your magic, love, ill love it regardless of what you do with it ❤️

Anon, this ask made me laugh so much when I first saw it. If anyone has computer skills, please record a live reading of this and send it to me so I can giggle for all eternity. I love you.

As requested, Sirius’ POV! It’s almost 2k words again and some of the dialogue is the same as Remus’ POV, but since he was in an......unreliable headspace the first time around there have been some changes. I hope you like it! Credit for Coops/ Sweater Weather goes to our savior @lumosinlove

TW for a panic attack, fistfighting, and scabs/ bruises/ minor blood

Sirius was so gone for Remus Lupin it wasn’t even funny. The whole game, he had been a force to be reckoned with on the ice as he dodged checks and slammed two goals in without breaking a sweat. Remus had gone to bed anxious and awoken with a determined set to his mouth that was incredibly attractive, though Sirius had been unable to properly appreciate it at the time.

Then Leo got hit, hit by Greyback of all people.

Sirius hesitated at first, torn between rushing to Leo’s side or going to beat the living shit out of Greyback for what he did. Finn crossed the ice with Talker and Kuny on his heels and they carefully pried Leo off the posts—oh, god, he looked like he was in so much pain—while a flash of black and furious red slammed Greyback down. Remus?

Greyback seemed too shocked to fight back as Remus landed hit after hit on him, pinning him to the ground with one hand wrenching the front of his jersey until it nearly tore. Sirius had made the foolish mistake of thinking yesterday’s emotional breakdown would be the end of his nerves, but no; no, this was the culmination of years of looming terror.

By the time Sirius got his arms around Remus and tried to pull him off, Greyback was a wreck. His lips was split and both eyes were already swelling with purple-black bruises as he stared up in shock. “Let go!” Sirius shouted over the stadium noise. “Re, you have to let him go or you’ll get in trouble!”

“—fucking let me go—”

“Stop it, this isn’t you!”

“—if you even breathe on them again—”

“Remus, sweetheart, that’s enough!” Sirius heaved backward and Remus came with him, writhing in his hold like a cornered wildcat. His threats were low enough that Sirius could only make out every third word, but the pure, unbridled venom in his voice was palpable. “Just—just stop fighting me, love. You have to breathe, Remus, take a deep breath.”

“Get off me, I’m not done with him yet,” he spat, struggling to break free. Remus was strong, but Sirius was stronger—his arms didn’t budge as he leaned back against the boards and nearly lifted Remus off the ice.

“Yes, you are. Leo’s going to be fine.” Sirius grunted as one of Remus’ sharp elbows caught him in the side. “Greyback’s going to get kicked out but you need to stop.”

Remus’ sudden weight as he slumped was a surprise; Sirius nearly dropped him. His whole body shook for a second and he grasped at Sirius’ hands. “Leo—around the goal post—“

Sirius wasn’t entirely sure what reassurances came out of his mouth, but they must have been good enough, because Remus listed to the side and stopped thrashing entirely. “Lupin!” Coach barked as Sirius pulled him off the ice. Please don’t be angry, please don’t be angry. “What the hell were you doing out there?”

“ ‘m sorry, so sorry, Coach,” Remus wheezed, leaning all his weight into Sirius, who scrambled to catch him. His face had gone from flushed to alabaster pale, almost gray in the bright lights. His pupils were so dilated there was barely any of the warm amber Sirius’ loved around the edges and every breath was shallow. “Fuck, wasn’t thinking, ‘m sorry.”

Coach visibly rocked backward, his gaze flickering to Sirius’ face. “Alright, Lupin, why don’t you head back into the locker room for a bit. Black, make sure he’s okay.”

Thank you, Sirius mouthed as he wrapped one of Remus’ arms around his neck. Coach nodded silently and he felt his eyes follow them as they headed for the tunnel. “You’re okay, sweetheart, just hang on for a moment—”

Remus mumbled something and dropped like a stone.

Sirius’ knees smarted with pain as they hit the ground, but he was too consumed with Remus to focus on that. He couldn’t seem to decide what to do with his hands, grasping and grabbing at the walls blindly. “Remus, look at me. Come on, you’re okay, just open your eyes.”

“Bad. This feels bad ohmygodIhithim.”

“You did—”

“Sirius.” His voice cracked and Sirius’ heart broke. “Sirius, I hit him. ‘m not scared, just angry.”

“I think you’re a lot of things right now,” Sirius murmured under his breath. “Can you open your eyes for me, love?” Remus sucked in a few harsh breaths as tears slipped down his cheeks, but soon frightened amber met grey and Sirius reached out to hold his arms. “It’s just us right now. We’re in the tunnel.”

“So much happening. Can’t stop shaking.”

“I know, Remus, just take your time. Let it out. I love you so much, you know that? You’re okay now and you can just hang on to me. I’ve got you.”

“Why do I feel like this?” he asked in little more than a whisper as he desperately reached out for Sirius.

“You just worked through a lot of trauma in under a minute, honey.”

“It is, it really is.” Sirius frowned; he started to wonder what Remus was talking about when he began…laughing? He was laughing. Okay. That was new. It wasn’t really laughing, just short, broken-off wheezes that were a cruel imitation of the little down-up that happened when Remus read a funny passage in a book or Sirius made a pun.

And then he cried, and cried, and cried.

So Sirius held him.

“I hate him, and I feel better,” Remus mumbled into his shoulder on the tail end of a heaving exhale. It was the first coherent thing he’d said since the ice.

“Ride it out, sweetheart, you can do this.” Sirius pressed a kiss into his hair as cold hands tangled in his jersey and strong shoulders shook. The guilt was eating him alive—how could he have missed this last night? Just how long had Remus been bottling this up?

“Pads?”

Sirius looked up at the end of the tunnel but never relinquished his hold. “Hey, Pots.”

James’ eyes flickered once to Remus and his heartbreak was clear. He had always been an open book like that. “How is he?”

A pause. “He’ll be better soon. We’re just gonna head home, I think. Any news on Leo?”

“Bruised ribs, no major damage.” James raked a hand through his sweaty hair. “Three weeks and he’ll be good as new. I’ll let the guys know you left, alright? Do you need a ride?”

“I’ve got it, but thank you.”

“Sirius.” Remus’ strangled voice made them both wince and Sirius rubbed his back gently as the sobs abated into trembling breaths.

“Keep me updated?” James asked, resting one careful hand on Sirius’ shoulder.

“I will.”

“Drive safe, Sirius.” And then it was just the two of them, twisted together as Remus slowly came back to himself.

Sirius didn’t say much as he led Remus to the car, both in their socks with their skates in his other hand. The drive home was quiet; Remus curled up against the window and closed his eyes immediately. The worst of it was behind them.

Even Hattie seemed to understand something was wrong, because she nuzzled Sirius’ thigh once and licked Remus’ hand before laying down in her bed and watching them leave. “Good girl,” he said softly.

Remus managed to get two whole buckles undone on his pads before Sirius stepped in with careful fingers and lifted the heavy gear away. The scabs and bruises on his knuckles had been hard to see in the darkness of the tunnel, but they were stark in the gentle light of their bedroom. Sirius took his hands and stepped into the shower, then turned the water on hot.

A slow ripple worked its way down Remus’ back as the steam rose and fogged up the mirror. Sirius reached for a bar of soap—not mine, he says it’s toothpaste on steroids—and smoothed the suds down his spine. “Is this okay?” he asked as the muscle jumped under his touch.

Remus sighed. “Yeah, it’s good.”

He worked his way up to his shoulder blades. “Are you okay?”

There were a few heartbeats of comfortable silence before Remus spoke again. “I think so? I feel lighter. I don’t know yet. Did I scare you?” His voice was fragile, but not laced with panic, just exhaustion.

“What?” Sirius laughed a little in surprise. Of course he scared him, what kind of question was that?

“Your voice was shaking when you pulled me away. I was worried.”

You were having the worst panic attack of your life and you were worried about me. Sirius’ knees nearly gave out with how much love flooded through his body. “You scared me a little, yeah, but mostly because you didn’t seem like you,” he admitted, sliding his hand up to wash the nape of Remus’ neck. He had been so tense on the ice, so viciously angry and vengeful in a way that Sirius would have never expected. He spat and snarled and flailed like he was going to die if Sirius held him a second longer.

“You were fighting me like I was going to hurt you, and then in the tunnel you just kind of dropped. I was expecting something to happen once the adrenaline wore off, but it was really fast.” He poured some shampoo into his palm and began working it through Remus’ curls.

“It felt fast. That’s nice.” Damp, soapy skin slid against his chest as Remus leaned into him, then turned to face him. His face was cast in shades of pink and gold again, and his eyes went soft as he looked at Sirius. “Hey.”

The breath rushed from his lungs. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Do not cry, do not cry, nobody else gets to cry tonight.

“Are you…using my soap?”

“It does have an intense smell.” Remus looked up at him and smiled. “You make it work.”

“Thanks?”

The pre-laugh hiccup made the lump in Sirius’ throat return and he closed his eyes against the burn, only for a feather-light kiss to touch his nose and make him freeze. One pressed to his left cheekbone, then his right, then one to his jawline, and finally, finally, the lingering pressure of Remus’ lips on his own. Lean, strong arms settled over his shoulders and Sirius held his hips like the world would come crashing down if he let go.

“Are you ready to go to bed?” he asked, leaning in once more.

A wry smile, one that was so Remus it hurt, flickered over his features. “I’m not tired yet.”

“Okay.”

And as Remus dragged him into the bedroom by the hands, laughing at Sirius’ antics and lighting the whole damn place up with his smile, Sirius knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life right here.

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mysticeyeliner · 3 years ago

Text

SA Fanfiction! Ilse getting help to heal from her friends! Part 1

Chapters 1-3, 2,921 words

IDK how to name fics lol but this gets it across. I’ve never posted fics before but I wanted to share this

Tw: Rape mentions, Abuse mentions, Alcoholism and drug addiction

Also includes homelessness, running away

"...Ilse?" Ilse glanced up from her spot in the dirt, seeing Anna standing with Moritz. They looked concerned. "Are you alright?" Anna asked. "I'm- I'm fine. Just hanging out before I leave again." "In the dirt?" Moritz asked. She ran her hands through the clover patch on the ground. "Picking flowers,' she said with a smile. "Can...Ilse, can you come with us for a moment? Moritz beckoned to her. She stood, concerned but too curious to say no. She really only paused to think. So maybe it was in a shadowed alley between two houses, but she hadn't been doing anything. Anna took her hand and smiled. She started swinging it like they were still young girls. Hell, Anna still had the same bows in her hair. They stepped up into her house, which always smelled of tea and fresh flowers. Moritz pulled out chairs from the table while Anna closed the door. Ilse suspiciously sat down and averted her eyes to the blue and pink embroidery of the tablecloth. "Can I make us all some tea?' Anna asked, already pulling out a jar of rose petals from a cabinet. That was the fancy stuff her mother always made when she had guests over, sometimes while they all played outside and only half tried to be quiet. Moritz nodded, and Anna began the rose tea. "We wanted to talk to you. About some stuff," he said. "What stuff? Are you planning something?" Ilse asked. "No, it's...you. We're worried about you. You haven't done anything wrong, but you're not Okay. I don't know what exactly you've been through, but the way you act, the things you say and do...it's not like the Ilse we know. We love you. But Priapia, being away from home...you're too lonely and you have trauma and addiction. I just, we want you to talk to us." Anna came around holding three steaming teacups in her fingers and a bowl of sugar. "We don't hate you, please don't think that, we just know somethings wrong. We're your friends. Please." Ilse stirred her fingers around in her pocket, brushing against the clovers she stuffed in it. "I- I don't know what to...to say." "Then drink." Anna passed her a teacup with marigolds painted on the base. Ilse took a sip, letting the warmth flood through her chest. Anna watched her, stirring several teaspoons of sugar into her own drink. "Martha got beaten. A lot." She looked down into her cup. "I don't know if I'm supposed to tell you thqat, but it's true. She hid it from us. I'll never understand why, but eventually Wendla up and reported her papa. Martha doesn't get hit anymore." Ilse had guessed. She'd seen it, in the long clothing she wore, her demeanor. it was the same as Ilse's own. Thank goodness it was over. "My father isn't a good one either. Nothing compared to what Martha went through, but...still. You're not alone, Ilse. Other people can understand your pain. You have no one to talk to back in that artists' colony, but we're here with you now." Ilse swallowed. She didn't prepare for this. Anna drank some tea, then stood up from her chair and positioned one behind Ilse. "Can you tell us what's happening?" "I- I don't want to burden you- I mean. I don't believe you really want to help me." Ilse's voice cracked. "Oh, we do, trust me," Moritz smiled. "This is all we want to do today. You're not burdening us, I promise we want to be here, listening to and helping you." Anna started gently pulling her fingers through Ilse's hair. About half of them caught on tangles that Ilse rarely bothered to brush out herself. Anna got to work, gently unknotting them. "It's..it's a Lot. I'm used to it by now. The drinking, the smoking..." "Is that all there is?" Anna asked. Ilse brushed her sleeve against her nose. "No." She squeezed her eyes shut. Moritz gently grabbed her hand. "I- I wish I could say I'm used to the violation. The..." She opened her eyes. "But sometimes, all the time, I'm not. Sometimes they start pulling me back to their beds and I'm too drunk to know better, or only enough to know what will happen if I resist. Sometimes they just push me against their walls and there's nothing I can do. Once, the first time, I tried to hit him back, and I ended up with a black eye sleeping out in the freezing cold for two nights. It's a miracle no one killed me then or worse. But every time, I can't stop wondering if I deserve it, thinking maybe it was on purpose. Maybe I wanted it and there's just something sickly wrong with me. Like it's all my fault and I can't blame anyone but myself." A tear fell. "Ilse," Anna said gently. "I know that's not true. I know who you are. You would never. It's those men, they're sick. You're, Lord, you're only fifteen. You were, what, thirteen then?" Ilse nodded. Moritz handed her her teacup. "Wendla was raped. I wish it wasn't true, but it is. She never asked for that. She didn't know what was happening. But I see her ask herself every day if she wanted it. From what I hear, it wasn't clear. But I really don't think she consented to that. No victim deserves to doubt themselves every day, no one deserves to ask if they secrelty desired trauma. But I think, maybe they all do. Look, Wendla is kind and young and caring. She would never ask for that." Anna said, "And you're wild and hopeful and just trying to be free and safe. Please, try and believe us, you didn't deserve that, no matter what you did." Ilse started crying. Moritz reached out and she grabbed him in a hug. He held on tight to her. "You're our friend. We never want you to be hurt again." "That's what they'll do when I go back," she sobbed. "They'll beat me too. They'll get me drunk and make me pose naked and get me high and there's nothing I can do about it." "Stay with us tonight," Anna said, putting a hand on Ilse's knee. "I'll keep you safe in my sister's old bedroom. Or you can come into mine, if you'd like." "They're expecting me back. They won't like it if I'm not." "They won't find you. I promise, Ilse. You never have to go back there," Moritz said. Ilse put her cup down. "I don't deserve your protection." "Yes you do. And it would mean the world to me if you just spent the night here." She looked Anna in the eyes. Ilse couldn't understand every emotion she felt. Still, she told her yes. ====== Ilse stood in Anna's washroom, washing her face off and looking in the mirror. Not the worst she'd seen herself. And at least her hair looked nicer. She felt the heavy prescence in her boot and pulled it out. A flask mostly filled with liquor. She couldn't keep doing this. She always told herself she wasn't a drunk, she couldn't be, but the flask would beg to differ. God, she didn't know if she could get over this. "Ilse?" A call from down the stairs. She set the flask on the counter and went to see Moritz. "I'm gonna go now. I'll be back tomorrow?" She smiled and hugged him. "Of course. And, I'm sorry about your dad. Is there anything I can do?" He grimaced and shook his head no. Then he squeezed her hand and said, "Don't let Anna put bows in your hair. She's tempting, but it isn't worth it." He shuddered. Both girls waved him goodbye. As soon as Moritz closed the door, Ilse said, "He's the next project, right?" "I don't think of you as a project, Ilse. But, I'm not sure there's much I can do to help him. He just failed school, he doesn't have many places to go..." "Christ, I forgot about that. I with I could help him." "He's doing okay. Better than you have been. Now come here." Anna beckoned for her to sit on the rug in the living room with her. She held a notepad and a pencil. "Mama gets home in an hour. We can have supper then. But what do you want to do after that?" "...Do we need to do much?" "Yes! I'm here to make you feel better, so we're gonna talk some, especially with Moritz again tomorrow, maybe Wendla, but for now? It's sleepover time." Ilse groaned that she had been pulled into this. But Anna played the mother half the times they played house as kids, so at least her stay would be comfortable. "Wanna come to my room?" Anna asked. "Sure." Ilse followed her up the stairs to a room with pink curtains and a bed covered in stuffed animals. "Oh, is this Soby?" she asked, picking up an old pink bunny. "I still sleep with him every night," Anna said proudly. She carefully moved every animal off the bed onto her floor. "Do you want to sleep here tonight, with me? I have plenty of blankets." Ilse was hesitant. "I don't want to intrude." "Please! I want to make sure you feel safe." She began smoothing her sheets out. Ilse moved to look out her window for a minute. "They're not going to find you, Ilse. And they won't be mad at you. As long as you never go back, that is." Ilse sighed and pressed her head against the glass. What was she going to do? "They don't deserve you. For anything. No one does, really." Anna came up and put a gentle hand on Ilse's shoulder. "I'm honored to have you as my guest, Miss." She swept into a curtsy. "For now, the best you can do is just stay here for the night. And a good long sleep in my very comfy bed will help you." "Okay," Ilse breathed. She walked over and picked up Soby, staring into her stitched on eyes. "For now, if you're not too tired..." Anna opened the door to her closet. Inside were numerous dresses with ruffles and bows. She grinned evilly at Ilse. "Noooo!" Ilse ran from her as Anna pulled a purple dress from inside and chased after her. --- Ilse was caught and turned into a doll for Anna. She was grumpily adorned in the purple dress, which had flower details on its sleeves, much like everything here. But before Anna could start on the rest of her, Anna's mother got home. "Oh! Mama, Ilse's staying here for the night. We're having a sleepover." Ilse emerged in her pouffy dress with an exaggerated frown. "Be nice to that poor girl." Frau Wheelan shook her head and started cooking supper. "She doesn't need to know why," Anna said softly, taking Ilse's hand. "But in the meantime..." Anna lifted part of Ilse's hair. Ilse dashed away from her saying no with a smile. Frau Wheelan called her daughter down to help with dinner. Ilse looked down at this princess dress again and craved a hit. No. No, she couldn't think like that. She had to stop. Soon enough it was suppertime. "Go clean your hands!" Anna's mother told them both. Ilse helped set the table while Anna went up to the washroom. "Ilse, it's been a while since I've seen you, dear." "Yeah, I haven't been up to much. It's lovely to see you, though." Her mother smiled and went to bring the food out. Anna came out of the washroom looking a little uncomfortable, sad maybe. Ilse was going to ask about it, but Anna saw food and her face lit up. "Let's eat!" Frau Wheelan declared. ===== They had pieces of seasoned chicken to eat. Despite disliking this dress, Ilse was sure to not drop anything on it. "Ilse, where have you been all this time?" Frau Wheelan asked. "Um...I'm living with some artists. Splitting rent." "Oh! Do you paint?" "I do." Ilse blushed. "And how's life treating you?" Ilse turned even redder. "Mama, can we not shower her in questions? Tell me how I should do her hair with this gown." "Please, she looks miserable...but some bows wouldn't hurt..." "Ooh, can we make hot chocolate after dinner? I wanna put on fuzzy socks and tell stories by the fire before bed." "Of course. Just make sure to go to bed at a reasonable hour." When they cleared their plates and Anna and her mother put dishes away (Ilse was quickly dismissed from the task) and Frau Wheelan went to go read, Anna went to the washroom again and came down to talk to Ilse. "Sorry she asked all that. You definitely don't need to give her details. She's just excited to see you." "It's okay. I'd be curious too." Ilse glanced at a clock. "Ilse, be honest with me...is this yours?" Ilse turned and saw Anna pull out the flask. Which she has left in the washroom. "Um..." Her silence said enough. Anna's voice got sad and quiet. "Look, I'm not trying to judge you. i just need to know how often you do this. How often you drink. Is it a serious problem? Do you need it?" "I...I wish I could say that wasn't mine. I don't want to be a drunk. I just, I'm so used to it...to always being a little inebriated...it makes it harder to feel the pain." "Are you wounded? Is that the pain?" "No." Ilse looked down sadly. "Okay. I'm here to help you. With everything. Any problem you have." "I have a lot. I'm not sure you want to get involved." "You're my friend. I'm always gonna be here for you." Anna touched Ilse's face. "If it makes you feel better, you can help me in return by letting me style your hair." --- Two braided pigtails later, Anna and Ilse were sitting around Anna's fireplace drinking hot chocolate. Ilse had socks on her feet for the first time in years, covering the blisters she was always getting. "No one's cared for me so well in a while." "Well, they should. You deserve it. You've always deserved it. Just wait until I make you take a bubble bath." It had been many years since she'd had one of those. "Wendla is hopefully coming tomorrow. Maybe Martha too. We can talk and figure something out for you. You don't need to go back there." "...I left my paint back there." "I'll buy new paints for you. I have some here. They're old, from a phase, but they should work in the meantime." Ilse smiled. "Thank you. It means a lot." "Of course. And might I just say, you look lovely." "Not my style, but thank you." "We'll all get you clothes you like. That show who you are. Until we figure that out, you can use mine. Your green dress needs a lot of cleaning anyway." "It's fine." "You sat in the dirt in it today." Ilse got closer to Anna until they shared a blanket. "We can go to bed whenever you want, okay? I'm pretty blind to other people's fatigue." Ilse nodded and continued watching the fire. ---- Anna offered her a light blue nightgown, this one without any embellishments. Ilse changed in the washroom, watching herself in the mirror. She hadn't seen herself look this nice- this well-treated- in years. Since even before she left for Priapia. Her brushed, styled hair and not-cheap dress just for sleeping in, her stomach filled from eating right... This didn't feel like her anymore. Maybe the old version of her wasn't right, and she was meant to be a dirty teenage artist who spent her nights between the beds of men and women that she would have to treat with respect the next day. "There's a spare toothbrush and paste in the drawer!" Anna called. A commodity she didn't have for the last two years. The paste tasted weird in her mouth, but, knowing she was doing something good for herself, cleaning herself, it meant something. A small change. A good change. She washed her face again and came back to Anna's room. It had electric lights as well as candle jars with flickering painted roses on them. Anna sat on her bed, adorned in a pink nightgown with plenty of bows. "I got you a glass of water," she said with a yawn. "Now come on in here." Anna turned out her lights, leaving the candles glowing. Ilse followed her, sitting on the cushy bed, facing the door. Faint moonlight shone through the window. Anna pulled out a sleep mask and placed it on her own head. "I'll tuck you in." Ilse slid under the soft covers and layed her head back. These pillows were better quality than she was used to. Anna reached over and pulled the covers up to Ilse's shoulders, then tucked herself in right next to her and pulled the mask down. "Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning," Anna yawned again. "See you," Ilse whispered. A glowing bedroom, goodnights, precious quiet. Someone softly falling sleep next to her, who wouldn't do anything to her. She missed it. Still, she needed something else. Ilse sat up and grabbed Soby with her fingertips, pulling her up by the ears. The soft bunny felt nice in her arms. She tucked herself back in and snuggled the bunny until she slept.

#big text tw #rape mention tw #abuse mention tw #alcoholism tw #drug addiction tw #fanfiction #my fics #spring awakening #Ilse neumann #sa #anna wheelan #moritz stiefel #I haven't worked on this in a few days so I hope it's good #also I have designs of the dresses but it includes one from the wip chapter so im not sharing it yet

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savebatsfromscratch · 3 years ago

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WHUMPTOBER DAY EIGHT - Am I gonna die? Ugh-

Prompt: Pneumothorax / exotic illness / “definitely just a cold”

Hareta has a cold.

. . .

wait, Hareta doesn't get sick-

(I am awful at summaries XD)

Sorry I had to do something for basically all of yesterday and couldn’t get this posted. >^-^’< I apologize!

Title from “I’m Not Fine (Alderheart song)” by Blixemi on YT. (Warrior cats fan song.)

Tws: Blood, death, sickness

Words: 601 and some drawings from scratch bitmap

To any hermitcraft fan reading this wanting more Testing Chamber AU, I'm sorry lol. I like Pokemon too much.

I’m back on my Pokemon bulls__t.

If anyone knows how to make an image description of the comic at the end, please do so in a reblog, I don't know how to do it!

Koya listened worriedly as Hareta coughed next to him. He had been sick for the past few days, which might not sound strange, but Hareta never got sick. But here he was, wheezing like he had an entire Wailord stuck in his lungs.

“Hey, are you okay?” Koya asked carefully, placing his hand gently on Hareta’s shoulder. (His concern leaving room for shock to shoot through him when he feels the fever like temperature of his friend’s skin.)

Hareta looked up at him, eyes half closed with the effort not to cough as he spoke. “I’m fine-” he cut himself off, sneezing loud enough to be worrying. After it was done, he wiped his nose on his scarf and continued, “It’s just a cold, that’s all.”

Koya had his doubts about that, but instead of pressuring him, he just nodded slowly and turned back to face forward. Even though the ‘cold’ was still bothering him. Since when did Hareta get sick? Hadn’t he eaten astronomical amounts of mud as a child? Wasn’t that supposed to protect you from stuff like this? (Koya didn’t honestly know, he had never worked with medicine.)

He sighed, and leaned back on his hands. (Hoping that the natural scene could clear him of his worries.) Of course, that hope didn’t have much basis in reality, but he had to admit that it was quite pretty. His eyes caught on a Drifblim, floating freely above the tree cover, it’s fat purple body bumbling the same way a jellyfish would in the water. Carelessly drifting on the currents. He watched interestedly as it floated out of his line of sight, the heart-tipped tendrils the last to disappear.

He shifted slightly to look forward, tipping his head happily to watch a rabbit, just a normal rabbit, hopping out of the undergrowth. It sniffed around for a moment before looking up, nose quivering slightly. It had noticed them!

Koya leaned forward slightly, watching as the rabbit lifted one foot into the air, as if trying to decide if it would rather run away or eat the delicious little patch of grass it had found. But, before he could see what decision it would make, it was disturbed by the loud coughing of the trainer next to him.

As the rabbit ran into the bushes again, Koya jumped and whipped his head around to face Hareta, unsettled by the volume of the sneezes and coughs he was doing. The blond dex holder reached out worriedly, but jerked his hand back as Hareta went into another coughing fit again.

But… the coughing wasn’t the worst part. It was the feeling of horror that shot through both of them when Hareta removed his hand from his mouth, for, in the palm of the hand was a small splotch of red. Koya froze.

Hareta looked up at him jerkily, eyes wide with fear as his body began to be wrecked with coughs again. Koya stood up slowly, all thoughts of the rabbit gone as he tried to think of the best way to help his friend.

“Help-” Hareta tried, only to be cut off by violent coughing. (yet again)

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Koya told him, trying not to panic as he helped him to his feet, “We’ll get you to the hospital, it’s okay.”

Hareta nodded in a way that told Koya that he was trying not to panic as well.

“You’re gonna be fine.”

Hareta sneezed loudly.

“You’ll be fine!”

Hareta nodded at him as the two boys stumbled down the path, “Thank you-” he broke off to cough, “Thank you Koya.”

#whumptober2021 #no.8 #definitely just a cold #pokemon dpa #koya pokemon #trainer koya #trainer hareta #hareta pokemon #sickness #tw: sickness #my art #writing #actual post #No beta we die like Koya’s Growlithe #tw: blood #blood #tw: death #death

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years ago

Text

I'M BACK!

So, like I said in my break announcement, I got some ideas for Toppat!Henry, but that unfortunately happened AFTER I posted Part 4.

I was thinking of ideas like this:

Everything remains the same after the chase with RHM, rather than getting captured, Charles pulls a Bold Action Man and jumps off the building. Or so we think, because we'd switch to Henry watching 'Charles fall' and shoot to his feet and shout, "NO! CATCH HIM!"

Funny thing about Bold Action Men: they're plans work. They horribly mangle themselves, but their plans work.

Charles actually landed on a window cleaning lift, which kind of broke when he landed on it. His phone, however, wasn't so lucky.

The lift breaks and Charles catches himself before he falls for real, swinging and climbing into an open window so he can then roll to the floor.

The supplies, including a heavy coat, all fall to and hit the ground; the phone's absolutely fucked, by the way.

Right rockets down to see if Charles actually died, and Charles sees him fly down.

When Right's gone, Charles groans and sits up, opening his jacket to see that he caught himself a little too well, evidenced by a gash that's opened on his ribs, right on the side that was already injured, too.

He groans and stands up, stumbling to the wall.

With Right, we see him hiver over the ground and report back to Henry that Charles did not fall at all. It was just a bunch of supplies and a spare coat. Henry, on the orbital station, sighs and falls back into his chair, silent for a second before he orders them to look inside the building they're on, in case Charles slipped inside to escape.

With Charles, TV perspective, we'd follow a blood trail to see him stumble through an office space, panting and light headed; he's walked down a couple flights of stairs and reached the office to try and look for an elevator, and that gash he has is doing nothing to help.

A wave of exhaustion washes over him and Charles catches himself on a desk, dry heaving as a whistle catches his attention.

"Don't look so good there, pilot. Heh, guess what they say is true: a Nine'-to-Five' does get you killed."

Charles demands the owner of the voice reveal himself, and he obliges.

Hope you remembered him from the "epilogue" in the secong Henry Stickmin Headcanon post, because, ladies and gentlemen, you know him, you either love him or you hate him, please welcome with open arms the worst leader in Toppat history: Terrence Suave

Before they can make proper introductions, Terrence grabs Charles and pulls him behind a wall, into that rec-room in the office space for coffee and food, and puts a hand over his mouth as he shushes him.

Right flies around each floor to survey and find Charles. He does try to get in the window, but the group has to leave and report back to Henry while the beam is hot and ready.

Right flies off and, once he's sure they're gone, Terrence lets go of Charles, who immediately backs away from him, which makes his wounds worse.

Charles doesn't exactly recognize his face, but asks why he's there, all things considered.

Terrence only laughs and admits he likes THIS version of Charles, bold, brave, confident even with a wound, and not an absolutely mindless psychopath working for or with the Toppat Clan- "Well, not as long as Right or Henry get a hold of you."

Upon seeing Charles's confusion, Terrence backtracks and says he'll explain later as he helps Charles to an elevator, grabbing a stapler on the way.

"What... What's that for?"

"Well, I can't really have the fireworks expire before the show begins, now can I?"

Charles shakes his head. "I don't know what you're saying."

"Don't worry about it. Let's just get you back to your government friends."

They enter the elevator and leave, Terrence admitting that he hopes Charles is in that numb state of shock as he knocks him down, lifts his shirt to reveal the gash and then pulls out the stapler. "Try not to move to much, pilot. This might sting a little."

At the base, the twins are getting a HUGE scolding and shout-at by Galeforce, who's very angry that they didn't tell him or anyone else about what Charles was doing, or the fact that Henry had called him.

They're still sorry, but, when asked, admit they don't know where Charles went, only that he was in a hurry and wanted to go alone. Again, Henry had called him, so maybe he had something to do with Charles running off.

Galeforce rubs his temples as Canterbury admits that Charles has been breaking his rank a lot recently, even blindly and stupidly wondering if he's a Toppat spy.

The twins, Galeforce, and Rupert all gkare at him for this, and he holds up his hands and admits he got the idea from remembering how slippery Henry is.

Rupert politely disagrees, as the government is all Charles has. Sure he's broken rank very often, but that's out of impulse and drive to stop Henry without anyone getting hurt. And before you say Charles is being a martyr, his sole goal is arresting Henry and making him call a total surrender for the Toppats. He can't take the clan all at once, and he won't because the government is on his side. He doesn't really care about taking out the clan as a whole, but he does want to stop Henry; and he's focused on Henry the most because of the failed airship mission and the still raw wound Henry left behind. Yeah, he took that very personally.

Regardless, just as Rupert offers to go and look for his friend, the phone rings and Galeforce answers.

"Ch... General? Are y-you there?"

"Charlie!? Where are you right now!?"

In the phone booth, leaning against the wall and paler than Snow White, Charles fights a gag. "Mid... Midtown. I-I got chased. They tried... They to kidnap me. Or-or kill me. I don... don't know, but-..."

Charles groans and slumps down, the pain fading, adrenaline wearing off, and exhaustion catching up to him.

Terrence catches him and sets him down, sitting him down as he takes control of that phone call.

"General Galeforce, I believe I've found your pet pilot for you. Thank goodness, too, he's injured. Bad."

"WHAT!?"

He shrugs and waves a hand. "Don't worry, a couple staples solved that." He turns to Charles. "Right, Charlie?"

"Screw you," Charles spits.

"Don't tempt me."

"Where is he?" Galeforce demands. "Wherever he is, bring him back!"

"Relax, Hubert. He's fine. Just needs a doctor andsone rest, that's all."

Galeforce, tired and just wanting to see his boy, tells Terrence to meet at the base, and to get there as soon as he can.

Terrence agrees and hangs up before helping Charles up and getting him in the car Terrence is "borrowing from a friend😈" and setting out.

On the orbital station, Henry paces as Right and Reginald explain what happened, admitting that they didn't see Charles fall all the way down. Just a little bit. If they didn't know better, they'd say he vanished into thin air.

Right also informs him that he saw Charles's phone fall, but there was nothing there when he went looking for Charles. Reg even explains that on the way up to the roof, the door jammed for a second, having been barred by an old screwdriver.

Apparently whoever was there just wanted to distract them for just a few seconds.

Henry notices this and growls, slamming his fist against the table.

Back with Terrence and Charles, the half cybernetic man is tapping Charles every now and again to keep him awake, in case he checks out for good.

Charles is sick and tired, but also extremely confused as to what just happened.

"I don't... Who are you?"

"Terrence Suave. Nice to meet you, Charles Calvin."

"How d'you... how do you know-... Are you-"

"Before you call me a stalker, just think of it like this: Are you religious, Charlie?"

Charles cringes at Terrence calling him a nickname only Galeforce uses or is allowed to use, but still shakes his head. "That's none your business."

"Fine. Believe in spirits? The afterlife? After some folks die, their souls are free to do whatever they please only catch is they can't DO anything because they're, you know, dead."

Charles only stares at him incredulously.

"I'm basically a spirit, kid. I see just about everything. I see things and I know them."

Charles shakes his head and asks, "How'd you know I... I'd be in the city?"

"I guessed. Good thing I was right."

"W-... Who-"

Terrence waves off the questions and tells Charles to stay awake as long as he can, so they can get him help.

They get to the base just as Charles passes out, Galeforce, the twins, and Rupert all rushing over to catch him.

Terrence tells them not to worry because he just passed out, even admitting he really shouldn't have used staples to close the gash.

Galeforce berates him and demands to know who this crazy bastard is and what he's doing, and Terrence reveals the bits of Charles's phone. "Give the kid a fossil. It'll be harder to track and tap."

They get him to the infirmary, Charles murmuring about keeping the twins safe and that they're after him, they being the Toppats, and he needs to leave town.

Galeforce hushes him up for this and tells gets him to the infirmary.

As Charles is carried away, Terrence watches, amused and perky as he smiles.

Slight gore tw, he then sighs, takes out his glass eye, cleans it off, and then puts it back in, groaning about how finicky it is.

Once it's back in, Terrence sighs and relishes in the fact that he's probably giving Henry a couple migraines

Again, this is just a possible revision, and if you guys like it, I can continue Part 5 off of this

Sorry for being away, I'll try to be more consistent now

Either way, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!!!!

#henry stickmin #charles calvin #completing the mission au #completing the mission #toppat!henry #slight gore tw #blood tw #terrence suave

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