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linabirb · 1 year ago

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👀👀👀 For the bingo, I'd like to hear your thoughts on Aki (csm just to be safe because its quite a common name haha), Makima, Isagi, Kaiser, Reo, and Mikoto.

.. OH BOY I HOPE YOU'RE READY TO HEAR SOME OF THE WORST TAKES EVER

.. i'm going to be honest. I GENUINELY FORGET AKI EXISTS SOMETIMES. like my brain just goes "uhhh remember denji and power's big bro" and im like "OH". if you remember my akutagawa bingo, i think you can see a pattern which can only be described as "i am so sorry but i just cannot make myself care about brooding dark-haired anime boys" 😭😭 (dan heng from hsr is one of the few exceptions) idk i really do think his story was sad but i'm also kinda like. i was too focused on other things when i read and watched csm JSKDSLASLSL. "what things" well.. let's talk about the next character on our list.

feel free to shoot me or stab me for this. but yes, THIS WOMAN IS ACTUALLY MY FAV CSM CHARACTER 😭 (along with kobeni and asa) i just love evil women! and i love well-written evil women! and i have so much to say about her. i genuinely love the way she was written and she's a very realistic character, but i am not a fan of how the csm fandom just. doesn't care about her character at all and cares only about her crimes and i'm not even talking about her basically destroying the whole world and killing SO MANY PEOPLE, i'm talking about her relationship with denji. which is, OF COURSE, bad and extremely toxic and unhealthy, especially considering that denji is a minor. however, i think seeing that as her only "personality trait" is so.. it just doesn't sit right with me. like i would be okay with people talking about everything she's done and analyzing it and going "yeah she's still a bad person even if she's well-written and deep" but i am NOT okay with people going "yeah she's a groomer and also she killed my faves :(" like. i don't know. if you don't want to interact with such "problematic" content just don't read it? though i'm gonna be honest i'm pretty sure most csm fans are very young and from what i heard, a lot of them haven't even read/watched any "dark" content before csm. me picking "they are innocent if u ignore their various crimes" is obv a joke, i definitely agree that makima is a terrible person, but also. i can't deny that she's pretty <3 and also the fact that she just needed a hug breaks my heart every time i think about it. i actually have a plushie of her too! one of the best purchases i've ever made, she stares at me with her big ol' yellow eyes and i do everything she says. thank you for motivating me to do my hw, queen.

but enough talking about my faves. honestly.. i don't really care about isagi? which actually makes me very sad bc i found him very relatable at first but then i kinda got bored? like i can't even describe his personality, i can only say "uhhh he's friendly with other guys unless he's playing football and also. uh. he likes football"? and ig that can also be very fun and i'm usually a huge fan of characters that usually act nice but also have a very rude and mean side, but isagi is just. idk, i don't really find him that interesting and those moments when he's like, busy analyzing everything and coming up with strategies.. honestly, i just skipped them JSDKSLSLS. I WANTED MORE ACTION OKAY. i think his relationship with bachira is cute though!

BACK TO MY FAVES. i would bite kaiser's head off if i ever got the chance but he's also one of my fav characters. yeah. he's so cool, i love his design sm, i need to look like him. i want to get into his head and figure out what's wrong with him. i want to squeeze him and crush him and tear him apart, but i also love him so much. tbh i don't know anything about the new chapters, but i'd love to learn more about him, it's like, at the same time, i want him to have a backstory that's a little bit (or maybe VERY) sad, but i also kinda want him to be like that just bc he can (even though i'm pretty sure it was implied that he does have a reason for acting like that). and yes, i love his relationship dynamic with ness. yeah.

reo. another fave of mine. though i actually didn't like him that much when i first saw him, but. i knew deep down that a purple boy will become one of my faves. love this gay disaster of a man, everything that happened between him and nagi was more entertaining than every single romance movie that i've ever watched. i want him to get better and realize that he's capable of doing great things without him. i also want him to become even more dependent on him for angst reasons. it's hard. and i honestly both love and hate that moment when he decides to return to nagi right after he finally started to get some character development, because YES I WANT HIM TO GROW AND I WANT HIS PERSONALITY TO BE SOMETHING OTHER THAN "if i spend at least one day w/o nagi i will die", but also it's very realistic and as someone who was in MULTIPLE (platonic) relationships that were exactly like his relationship with nagi.. that moment was very painful. in a good way. and again, i wanna look like him.

my relationship with mikoto is very hard to explain bc it's like. in theory, i'd love to learn more about him. i'd love to stan him. but also.. i'm not a fan of how the fandom pretty much makes his DID his only personality trait? maybe i'm just on the wrong side of the fandom, but i rarely see any posts about his other traits? again, i'd love to learn more bc i have a feeling that we have a lot in common, but. but yeah. i'm a huge fan of his minigram version though <3 so silly. so squishy. so funny. (honestly, me being salty that almost all convos about mikoto usually discuss his DID is so funny to me now that after three therapy sessions i've found out that i'm most likely a system SJHSJDKDLSL like bro THAT IS YOU) about "i would push them down the stairs" i mean it in a silly playful way :) like i want him to fall down and scream in a very cartoony and funny way.

#[ 💓 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ]#[ 💕 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 ]#[ 💫𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝: 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚 ]

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despite-everything · 2 years ago

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i dont even know what im going to write but huge trigger warning for issues related to self harm if you read this. i know i seriously need more psychological help but i dont even know what to do at this point. theres certain things i know that i need to do but feel like i cant and i feel like im sabotaging my future self but at the same time im doing so fucking horribly in the moment that i can barely think of anything beyond the present. like im trying so fucking hard to get better but literally just the tiniest change is setting me off these days. the barber cut my sideburns so they're basically shaved off and blunt whereas i prefer to have them come to a point so there is a little bit of hair under my glasses in front of my ears, but i forgot to tell it to the barber today so he cut that off. and i hate hate hate the way it looks and its a change i wasnt ready for and it freaked me out so much that despite doing all these fucking coping skills and breathing and shit that i spent more than a decade in therapy working on, i couldnt handle it. i guess this is where the trigger warning comes in and like i dont even know if im going to post this or not but i need to get it out there because this is just too fucking much but i freaked out and let myself break a bottle and then cleaned it up because usually breaking glass snaps me out of a downward spiral - its not the best thing to do but its usually a reliable last-ditch tool, but it did fucking nothing today and i fucking relapsed anyway. so i hurt myself pretty badly and then couldnt stop pacing and freaking out and pulling at my hair, and now ive calmed down a bit but still feel awful and now theres blood all over me and the floor and some even got on the wall in my apartment and i want to cry but i cant. i feel horrible and just want to crawl in bed but i dont want to get blood on the mattress and i know id soak through the streets, but i feel like i cant get clean yet and im really upset with myself and its this terrible feedback loop. and like i feel paralyzed. my computer was near where i ended up and now im trying to listen to music i love and im typing this out because i need to get it out smewhere or else im going to scream but like i cant even go pet my cat cause im fucking covered in blood and got it on my computer and everything about this is horrible and yet i still want to keep hurting myself. im not right now and im trying so fucking hard to get over this but like this is so bad. its just awful because i know progress isnt linear but i didnt think a relapse would be this bad. and i know i know i know that things can get better. but ive been like this since 2008 and it only seems to be getting worse and the world seems to be getting worse and i try so hard to be optimistic and focus on the good but i feel like im drowning all the time and its like the very most i can do is just not kill myself. im just so tired and so unhappy and yeah some things have been great lately but its only at work and everything else is so fucking horrible i dont know if i can handle it

#im sorry this is a lot im posting it because i just need to get it out somewhere and am not ready to talk to anyone about it #but this is pretty fucking negative and potentially very triggering so if you happen to see this maybe dont read it #i dont fucking know. sorry #tree talks

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navire190413 · 3 months ago

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i am exhausted. i really need to stop drinking so much. i almost didnt make it into work today just because i wanted to sleep more. probably since i've been going to bed around 2 every night. i really gotta adjust my life style soon or i feel like there will be serious consequences somehow.

ive been considering giving up on x-chan. its been 4 months since we broke up, and then 3 months as "friends", where we're just doing this stupid game of ohhh we like eachother so much one week then dont like each other the next week, repeat. we met up after work yesterday and went to 神田 to go to 神田屋. idk why we even went there, x-chan hates chain izakayas. we only had one drink then decided to walk to 秋葉原。we found another chain izakaya to go to since they allow smoking at your seat. usually when we're together he always holds my hand, but he didnt reach for it at all last night, so i didnt reach for his either. i felt like, oh maybe its actually over now and we're just actually going to act like friends and not be all ラブラブ like we are most of the time.

we left pretty early after having 2 mega lemon sours and some food. he was exhausted from work and was basically falling asleep at the table. we said bye and didnt kiss or anything. i went to my usual bar for a drink or two before going home. most of the usual people were there but i mostly just drank by myself and played with my phone. i was too exhausted and over thinking everything to even try to communicate in japanese.

i texted x-chan while i was there saying i wanted to hold his hand earlier but didnt know if it was okay or not so i refrained. he told me its always okay and he likes when i do it, so i guess i will from now on. i also told him i still like him and after i got drunk i asked him to please tell me if he ever starts talking to a girl romantically so i can stop pursuing him out of respect for the both of them. he agreed, so i guess i should stop worrying about if he's talking to anyone until he tells me he is.

my old drinking buddy ended up coming to the bar while i was there and we drank until 11:30, which is why im so fucking exhausted today. he's american from texas and has been in japan for less than a year. he's kind of sort of studying japanese but he hasnt really made much progress lately haha. he teaches english and is stuck in that terrible cycle. i couldnt do it. all of the people i know who are english teachers are miserable and on the verge of offing themselves. the pay is too low and their hours too long and they have weird ass fucking contracts with barely any time off. i definitely got lucky when i decided to go to language school. but also extremely lucky i had the means to save up for it and afford it. i love japan but i dont love it enough to become an english teacher just for a visa. i would absolutely move back to the states before i even considered teaching english as a job. which is why i was so panicked the entire time i was job hunting.

im sure if i didnt come to work today it would have been fine, but i had a cold two weeks ago and something about me missing 3 days of work in a month when i just got my work visa 2 months ago doesnt sit right with me. i got ready in 10 minutes today so i could sleep in the max amount of time possible and didnt even bother with makeup. i really gotta get my shit togetherrrrrrr. x-chan also doesnt want to drink as much anymore and wants to save money, so if i stop hanging out with him as much i wont be drinking as much or spending as much money either. but if i dont hang out with him as much, he'll start hanging out with other girls! i dont think he will but my ocd is killing me. i want to give up so bad. i tried my hardest to make things right between us, but they keep going from good to bad and then from bad to good and i am frankly emotionally exhausted. he texted ME good morning today, and that made me more happy than it should have. i need to stop wasting my emotional resources on this and focus on myself. its so hard.

i think im gonna go pray at a temple this weekend. it usually helps me clear my head and i feel like my luck usually turns around when i do. fighting the urge to look up 縁結び祈願 temples because i should pray about getting my life together, not getting back with x-chan haha. i typed this then immediately invited him to go with me.

i do the money management and accounting at my job. im still being trained on how they like their stuff organized and how to do everything the right way in japan. japan's tax system is so complicated compared to how "streamlined" it is in the states. also having to add up big amounts of money here is kind of comical. so many 0's. so. many. 0's. also dont ask me to say any number larger than 999万円 outloud because it takes me like 10 seconds to count from the end of the number and backwards to understand if its 万 or 億.

i need to go shooting soon. i have a photo series in mind, but it requires me being out all night long until like 6am, and i dont feel comfortable doing it alone since random men always approach me when im by myself so im kind of relying on my friends to go with me. i also keep blowing off my friends to hangout and try to woo x-chan. my life is a mess. i also need to study instead of drinking every night. and i need to not go to the bar as much so i can save up to move. and and and and. and i need to buy more film for my camera. and i want to play pokemon in my free time. and i need to study more japanese grammar for my job because im forgetting a lot of it now that im not going to school everyday. and and and and. i need to go to the grocery store after work today.

yesterday on my way to the station after work, there was a guy puking on the sidewalk. first thought was, okay gross? and at 5:30? kind of fucking early to be hammered… then i looked at his vomit and it was a giant amount of unchewed ramen noodles. like. so so so much. we made eye contact and that man was in PAIN. i wonder if he just overate or something instead of being drunk 😂 that image of those fucking noodles will stay with me forever.

i need to do laundry and clean my room when i get home tonight.

#diary #personal blog #life in japan #tokyo

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kysfimagines · 1 year ago

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KYSF characters reacting to you dying during childbirth

warning: this is a very sensitive and sad topic which cointains youre dies. sorry

TUO: y/n noooo :( way to bring down the mood y/n!

MIKIYA: Oh, god, it can’t be... y/n is really gone, aren’t they? Well, it’s just you and me, Mikiya Jr. Mark my words, I will teach you everything I know, and we WILL avenge y/n by razing every last hospital to the ground! ...Oh, the good doctor! I was joking of course. Touchy, aren’t we? Obviously I’d never hold a grudge for you killing the person who birthed my child.

HAUNA: ok

CIJUNE: *cries for 19 minutes* my child.. you are all i have left. i will raise you into the best human being you can be for y/n's legacy. i swear i will protect you and love you the best i can *the whole time the baby is biting and scratching nurses and hissing*

PAYU: dang it! *snaps fingers* that’s such a bummer. welp. anyway. im gonna teach this baby to surf

AYASA: I am going to sue this hospital so hard that by the time I’m through with you, my child will be set for college AND retirement twice over. I have my lawyer on the line right now, actually, would you like to hear from him? *hands the doctor the phone but its his voice on the phone* Me again, bitch.

SOKEMUI: *rampaging though the hospital and screaming like a white woman in film's oscar winning scene*

ML: *kind of liked it* wow, y/n fucking died.. wow. kind of weird. i mean, i guess its sort of cute… oh yeah um *turns to the crowd of adoring fans and paparazzi* does anyone want this baby

HEAVENLY: i refuse to believe it… y/n CAN’T be dead! no way… it can’t be true…. *phone notification* oh! my starbucks order is ready. byeee

CADENCE: no.. how could this fucking happen… you’re a sham quack doctor *tries to fistfight the doctor and loses and dies*

JACOB: *through tears* y/n……. my poor sweet darling…….. i will send you off in only…. the finest of funeral rites. with highest honors. *blows up your corpse*

AURE: *glaring at baby* you did this...... you killed my beautiful yummy y/n..i am NOT going near that thing *the doctor: that is your child you have to raise them* no. i refuse to care for that creature

MARSHALL: what the fuck man...

ROO: Oh this is terrible :( Rest well, Y/N, you were wonderful... Now, who wants to raise this child? Nose goes!

LEN: this is so fucking sad *plays a perfect violin adaptation of Music of the Betrayed - 1 HOUR Of Epic Dark Sad Tragic Emotional Dramatic Music*

MIN: hahah funny prank ok y/n you can wake up now :p ....okayyyy,, theyre not waking up. you seeing this doc? o__0

CELESTIUS: *takes a picture* You’re going into my cringe compilation.

N*AH: ugh y/n 🙄 you know this is so embarrassing for me right? i couldn’t go to your seminars about “human rights” and “emotional intelligence” and “benefits of personal hygiene” because i was busy getting beer with the bros, ever think of that? you never think about my feelings. no, you always tell me that my cis white straight privilege clouds my better judgment and that i need to educate myself, even though i’m not even homophobic, no really. you always make ME look like the bad guy, and this is no different! you just went and died for attention. ohhh look at y/n, they’re dead, that’s so sad. boo hoo. because when people start caring about ME for a change you just can’t handle that because you’re a sensitive snowflake. god. and now i have to raise this stupid baby. pc culture has really ruined life for honest good men like me

#kysf

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spinoff-antithesis · 6 years ago

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i hate how whenever i end up venting i’m kinda just ending with. “but enough about me & my feelings!! i’m not that important how’s everyone else doing!!”

#like yikes why am i like this!!! i need to stop putting virtually everything & everyone above myself!!!!! m #am i gonna listen to my own advice though??? hell no!! have you fucks met me!!!!!#kitty rambles #congrats! ur post upgraded to a #kitty vents #god ok im just. gonna vent in the tags so here we go??#it’s so fucking funny how!!!! it’s just. oh someone’s venting in the group chat?? time to say something!! wait it’s sage? never mind then!!#like i genuinely understand that people are busy!!! but this happens almost every damn time i say something there!! which is. idk.#a lil shitty?? idk maybe that’s just me & my dumb ass overthinking shit like normal bc i’m a fucking stupid depressed bastard whos literally #getting nowhere with their life!!! wow!!!!!!!#also can i just say that it’s fucking FRUSTRATING that my mom said ‘yeah im getting ready to check out’ at 7:11pm and!! almost an hour #later!!!!!! guess what she’s still doing!!!! i just wanna fucking go home but yknow!!!!! who cares abt me amirite!!!!!!!!!#god i need to get out of my own FUCKING DEPRESSION bc i know there’s probably people who could help me #but instead i shove my feelings to the back of my mind bc yknow!! i don’t matter!!!#i’m so fucking bad at accepting help and letting people help me with my emotions but yknow what!!! oh well i guess!!!!!!#i’ve gotten better at controling my terrible emotional impulses but i just. fucking can’t man.#i wanna just call my mom out on her shit but i know she’ll probably turn it on me and emotionally guilt me like she tends to do so :)#please fucking kill me thnx

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princeresnikov · 2 years ago

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it's in my nature {Tangerine} // 3

three. the scorpion: the frog denies his fable.

Chapter Summary: The Scorpion experiences second-hand ego death watching as The Twins come to terms with her true identity. It may be her last job before she's no longer in debt to The White Death, but the conversation she has with his Son reminds her that there will be no love lost if she never speaks to him again. Or anyone in this godforsaken family.

{ Masterlist }

A/N: 4339 words. and we're back with more shenanigans! there's a lot to build here and im fighting the urge to explain all the backstory because i KNOW it plays out in the story and i just have to give it and myself time. anyways i think this went through three drafts before now, but im pretty happy with it all things considered. i would love to hear any and all feedback, suggestions, anything! these chapters keep getting far longer than i anticipate, i hope y'all don't mind. again im iffy on characterisation but that's mostly for The Son this time, but tbh it's not like that's going to be an ongoing issue as we all well know so... i hope it works for now.

Warnings: Don't be surprised when the OC is a terrible person and is implied to have done terrible things along with the rest of them. There will be smut in the future chapters.

Chapter Warnings: Discussions of death and violence.

Taglist: @venusthepirate @malar-region @tangerinesgf @esmaada @sarcastic-sourwolf @djjskfkskjf @justshutupmars @somikesoc @chachadelight @andydre4m @evangelineflowers @darkchai @basementsoup @bellatrix124 @kunikidaswhore @thewinterschildren178 @felhomaly @perksofbeingamultifandomm @aniglio18 @geeiz @mimidior

[ always open, just message or comment! ]

-----

Turmoil is a word Clementine is trying to stay away from when looking for ways to describe her current mental state. Turmoil, she believes, downplays the absolute clusterfuck of confused, startled, blinding rage she's feeling right in this very moment.

The absolute last person she wants to see in this exact moment would be that rat-fuck Son of the White Death. Yet here he is, of course, still calling her Clementine and Scorpion, like he has any right to either! Both are names he is responsible for in one way or another, both of which she absolutely hates him for! That stupid little frog! After everything he's done!

Unfortunately for Clementine, there is also a non-zero chance that he is in some way part of this whole ordeal, probably some last challenge or punishment before she's out of this godforsaken family's clutches; if anyone would know where her cash bonus would be, it's him.

But he's not the issue, he's easy to deal with after all the time she's known him, it's his babysitters who throw a real spanner into the works. Guards alone would be an issue considering she has know way of knowing how much they know about the situation, if anything, but The Twins, Lemon and Tangerine, present a unique challenge that of course only she would end up facing. She'dclosed her book with The Twins in New York, in a very permanent way, a way that would be messy to even attempt to reopen.

Messy. That's a word for it. Messy, deceitful history with the twins. Messy, definitive end to their time together. Messy, tumultuous clusterfuck in this exact moment.

The jig is up. Tangerine and Lemon are both looking at her, Lemon like he's seen a ghost, while Tangerine who's already powered through that particular revelation was quietly glowering at her like he was still trying to figure the rest of her out. Or like he's about ready to kill, which Clementine knows she absolutely deserves. It's also Tangerine who moves first, looking to Lemon with that same, burning intensity. She'll let them have their moment, instead turning her attention to The Son. He's regarded her warily, which Clementine had to admit, did feel rather good. Had he been his usual arrogant self she doesn't know if she could have stopped herself from mauling him.

Except in the next moment his eyes as grazing down her attire. Leering? Perhaps. Usually at least a little. But when he meets her gaze again there's noticeable tension in his jaw. It's a subtle shift, but Clementine knows the moment The Son stops regarding her as a threat to himself; perhaps it's the reproachful look in his eyes, or the way he slouches further into his seat, but some of that arrogance is back. It's never far away. Frog.

Clementine's chameleonic prowess is more than familiar to him, using it to his full advantage when she'd been assigned his security detail in the past, so of course The Son can see his sister's fingerprints all over Clementine's current aesthetic -

Ah. Right. Damn it, The Prince, four cars down and completely untrustworthy at the best of times. Whatever brief feelings of affection she'd had for the girl, thinking she may have been trying to help Clementine as some sort of final, kind gesture, have evaporated.

She hates every single part of this family and she'll be so glad to be rid of them after today -

Again it's Tangerine moves first, but this time he isn't the only one. Clementine may be watching him slide from his seat, but in her peripheries Lemon is fidgeting with something she can't see. But she has her guesses; The Twins were never unarmed if they could help it. Now beside her, Tangerine gestures to the window seat with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Still in his suit jacket, she can see both his hands; gun still probably holstered knowing him, not that she should underestimate him. An attempt at misdirection? Maybe, but probably more for the sake of the passengers around them than Clementine herself.

Lemon stops fidgeting, resting one hand on the table almost casually. His other hand rests beneath the table, subtle unless you know what to look for. The window seat is a trap.

"Hold this for me, would you?" Clementine's smile is all teeth as she passes Tangerine her bag, the little leather satchel. He's not thrilled to take it, but isn't exactly given a choice before she gracefully takes her seat by the window. Tangerine takes the aisle seat before she's even settled, the picture of quiet fury as he boxes her in as intended. Her bag rests on the table between The Twins rather than being given back directly, undoubtably a subtle power play. Clementine knew what she was doing handing it over in the first place, so she'll let it be for now, nothing inside is truly vital, though she'd be sad to leave her first aid supplies. Escape would be tricky if necessary, but not impossible -

"I'd keep sudden movements to a minimum," Lemon says carefully across the table. Clementine's darting gaze settles on him immediately. Her lips twitch into a warm smile out of habit; people generally have more patience in the face of kindness, a few moments of silence becomes more tolerable, less unnerving to people, if she wore a believable smile. But Lemon's frown deepens, unconvinced.

"I'll behave," and despite how she tries to sound genuine, the low, irate sigh that escapes Tangerine does not go unnoticed by her.

"Clementine isn't here for me," that goddamn smug voice has Clementine's expression darkening almost as if a switch was flipped. When she looks to The Son, he's not smirking but she can tell he wants to. Her lip curls in reflexive, visceral disgust at the nickname; the urge to maim him passes through her almost like a shiver, so strong they all see hints of it, down to the way her fingers flex out on against the table. It's a jarring contrast to the harmless expression she wears.

"You'll have to forgive us for exercising a healthy level of caution anyhow," Tangerine interjects. At least he sounds calmer; each word still sounds like a threat, but he seems to have settled into the situation. Only The Son, focused on Clementine herself, sees the split second that a wicked gleam shines in her eyes. The tense set of her shoulders visibly relaxes. Everything about her seems to change in the blink of an eye, from poised and deliberately calculating to sweet and understanding, as if trying to make herself appear as small and unthreatening as possible.

"Of course, you have every right to feel safe!" And maybe she raises the pitch of her voice, makes herself sound earnest as she turns doe-eyed looks upon The Twins. All three at the table with her see the act for what it is; internally she revels in the way Lemon and Tangerine are regarding her with growing distrust, "but surely, for three gentlemen such as yourselves, the gun is overkill against a little lady like me," her gaze locks on Lemon, making it abundantly clear that while she understood his threat, she didn't actually seem to take it all too seriously.

"Not after the little lady walked away from a bullet to the head," Lemon doesn't even blink despite how intently Clementine had been committing to the bit. Good. All that she'd managed to observe back in New York still appeared to hold true; she knew what tune to sing to make The Twins dance.

The smug look is gone from The Son's face when she finally looks back at him; the message has reached it's intended audience loud and clear. For as long as they'd known each other he'd held the power, he'd been The White Death's son, he was to be protected, his bruised ego cost her the life she'd been building and she'd never so much as raised her voice at him; his Clementine was never a real threat to him. He'd grown complacent.

Despite the messiness of the situation, it had to be said that there was something exhilarating about being respected as a competent threat. The Twins saw it, and from the look in his eyes The Son was finally seeing it too.

The White Death's children all play the same games; at least with this one she doesn't have to sit here and let him win today.

So she lets the act drop all at once with a pleased sigh, savouring this small joy amongst the mess of these moments. Another change in her demeanour, another deliberate choice of what she shows the world. There's a jarringly relaxed confidence to her now, languid movements almost masking how deliberate they were.

"Listen, Scorpion- Clementine -" Lemon straightens up, looking firmly between Clementine and The Son, finally settling to focus on the mercenary, who's instinctive, venomous 'Scorpion' goes mostly overlooked by The Twins, but not by the Son, who rolls his eyes. Lemon continues on insistently, "Scorpion, we can all have a big, old fuckin' tea party where you explain how exactly you survived a sniper round to the skull, after we deliver this prick to his dad," which is the exact point The Son checks out of the conversation, as Clementine had seen him do countless times before, choosing instead to focus on the blur of landscape beyond the window. "But right now -" but Lemon cuts himself off, heaving a deep sigh as he can't quite find a way to finish his sentence. Something changes in his expression and suddenly he can't look her in the eye. Had it finally hit him?

Does he remember how they used to run into each other while she had been on her lunch breaks back in New York? Does he remember the deli and how she'd listened so intently when he would talk? How must it feel to remember the way he had thanked her for recommendations around the city, or does he wonder if she knew he'd invite her out on her days off as a cover when he was tailing his mark? How long would it take him to realise there was no such thing as coincidence?

Even so, before that last revelation could occur, it had to be strange to have to hold the girl who looks no different from those memories at gunpoint, to ask her if she's here to kill the man sitting beside him.

"He's actually right," it physically pains her to admit as much, despite how she cushions it with a gentle sigh, thereby also easing the burden from Lemon, "our respective jobs on this train run parallel. This..." her gaze flicks for one resentful moment to The Son, "this is simply an unfortunate intersection." After a beat, Clementine wets her lips, diverting her focus from Lemon and Tangerine to her real target with a mean little smile at the corners of her mouth when her explanation was met with no resistance.

"Speaking of unfortunate, you look like shit," Clementine gloats, reaching out across the table to take hold of The Son's chin, gently angling his chin to get a better look at the damage he'd sustained. Almost as if by instinct, his focus shifts to her bag on the table, as if aware of the medical kit inside. There's bitter resignation in his face, like he expects her to do something about the wounds, as she's always done in the past. But he's not her problem today.

"I'd rather you kill me than make me listen to you talk like that," The Son can't meet her gaze, jerking out of her grip when it was clear she wasn't planning on aiding him, instead focusing instead on the scenery speeding past the window, "who are you today?" As Clementine pulls back, resting both gloved hands on the table between them, he can't help how his attention is drawn to them, watching from the corner of his eye, still mostly turned away.

"Depends on who you ask."

"Did my father send you too, you selfish little Scorpion?" He rolls his eyes, spits the word like it's an insult. Rage burns white-hot through her veins the minute the name leaves his lips. The tension that suddenly holds her hostage is the only thing stopping her from lurching across the table and mangling him in broad daylight on this otherwise pleasant train. Bright expression frozen, she flexes her fingers out against the little table again. He watches her hands; selfishly she hopes it's because he feels at least a flicker of guilt.

"Your father," there is poison in every single sweet syllable she utters, "was right about you, you pathetic, little frog!" The malicious tone she uses is almost a threat unto itself, and it's enough to incense The Son from his feigned apathy to lurch forward, against the table, against where he was restrained in his seat, growling that he isn't a fucking frog while he looks her in the eyes like he hopes she gets the message. "If it walks like a frog, and runs it's mouth like a frog," her lip curls in defiant cruelty, "it'll bleed like a frog," Clementine's fingertips are arch and spidery braced against the tabletop, slowly leaning in to meet his challenge head-on, nose to nose, practically made of malevolence. In that moment her Brooklyn accent drops, the words spilling from her with a weight and tone that is distinctly Russian, mirroring The Son -

"Clementine?" Tangerine's jarringly casual tone immediately brings her out of the moment; how long had his hand been on her thigh? How long had he been trying to get her attention? But the intensity is gone the minute the name leaves his lips. Clementine blinks, looking as if she'd been caught off guard by her own anger, immediately softening to rectify that, if only for a second before she catches herself once more. A second is all it takes, however, and despite her mask barely slipping, The Son had seen it. His eyes light up with recognition, the kind that pits worry in Clementine's stomach, the kind she can't predict the consequences of. Still she allows her focus to shift to Tangerine, not even realising that she's started fidgeting with her gloves again. The Son simply shifts low in his seat.

"What, Tangerine?" In matching his energy she'd gone back to the Brooklyn accent. When she looks at him she's surprised by how calm he is, or at least how calm he seems; when he tilts his head to meet her gaze, the smile he's wearing is one she almost recognises. It's almost warm.

"Play nice would you, love? Don't wanna do to you what they did to Old Yeller," the way he talks is completely incongruent to the words themselves, sounding so warm and casual one might think he was joking, that it might border on fond teasing to a passing stranger. He gives her thigh the faintest squeeze for emphasis.

The Son actually snorts a laugh, but Clementine ignores him.

"That's grim," Lemon added, chatting just as casually with his brother as if it wasn't a threat, as if he wasn't the one with the gun, "even for you that's grim."

Tangerine takes the bait, because Tangerine always takes the bait. It's all so familiar. When Clementine leans further back in her seat, she pushes her luck and leans her shoulder is against his. Tangerine seems to allow it. The points of contact grounds her, but The Son's gaze darts between them, not that she can bring herself to give a shit, she'd always enjoyed The Twin's petty squabbling. Brief moment of dark amusement aside, The Son once more checks himself out of the conversation before Clementine's very eyes. However, this time he fixes his gaze on her, watching her with intrigue. Unfortunately, this too she is used to. It's easy enough to ignore.

"Well I don't dictate how to deal with rabid dogs, I just know the reference."

"You've seen Old Yeller?"

"I know the reference well enough to make it; you harass everyone on Big Brother on if they've read 1984?"

"You haven't -"

"'course I bloody well haven't watched Big Brother!"

They're arguing about how to best allude to killing her, this should not be the kind of strangely familiar that makes her chest grow warm. But Tangerine's hand is still on her thigh, thumb running back and forth in comforting repetition, most likely out of distracted habit. At least that's what Clementine tells herself. Even so, it's a reminder to behave, to not scare the poor civilians around them by causing any sort of scene. A small, familiar moment of contact. She not even fidgeting with her gloves.

"She should be put down," even The Son's cruel interjection is thrown into the conversation light enough to not bring the banter down. Clementine parries in kind with a roll of her eyes, telling him that she'd put him down in a minute -

"Now that's not playing nice," Tangerine's hand is still on her thigh, that hint of warning back in his words. Clementine almost trips on the subtle tone change, you've never complained before pressing against the back of her teeth behind her teasing smile, before she meets his gaze. In his eyes she sees his warning, but watches as he seems to realise what she'd thankfully left unspoken.

"I'm not Old Yeller-ing Clementine," Lemon cuts through their moment. When Clementine looks at him, she makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat clearly directed at his use of the nickname. Tangerine's disappointment matched Clementine's disgust.

"You are holding the gun."

"I'm not Old Yeller-ing The Scorpion," Lemon repeats in the exact same no-nonsense tone, adding, after a beat, "I'll pull the trigger but I'm not calling it that."

"Call it whatever you want, I'm not gonna argue the referential fuckin' semantics of Clementine's public execution," it's said like it's final, and it at least seems to satisfy Lemon for the time being. It takes only a moment, however, for Clementine to chime in hesitantly.

"I have an argument."

Tangerine turns to her so slowly, as if he can't believe she'd have the gall to keep this inane argument going. When both his hands come to rest on the table she's already disappointed at the lack of contact.

"Hate to burst your bubble but you don't exactly get a say in your own execution."

"Actually it's about that; it's about the semantics," she corrects. Tangerine blinks at her. There's something undeniably conflicted in his eyes for a moment; there's a different cadence to the way they used to talk to each other, but he still has to be remembering it in this moment. It passes, however, in half a second landing instead on being unimpressed. But lets her continue, "it's not a public execution."

"Not public enough for you?"

"No, no, not that at all! The Shinkansen is definitely a top ten spot to be killed, definitely enough passengers for it to be considered a public execution -"

"Then what is your problem with my semantics?"

"I just think it's a bit bold to call it an execution," when she glances over at the other two, Lemon is giving her the most deadpan look she thinks she's ever received. But, in a shockingly rare moment of solidarity, she catches The Son turning away as he struggles to fight off an amused smile, knowing her well enough to know where she was going with this. At least there's one moment of levity on the last day she'll ever have to put up with him again, she finds herself musing.

"A bit bold?" Tangerine's dry tone brings her focus back to him. Perhaps it's wrong to be amused, but she can't help the faint smile she wears as she explains her thoughts.

"Execution implies -" hesitating, she can see Tangerine's already looking like he doesn't like where she's going with this, "or, well, no, there's a certainty to the implication that I'll die." She should have probably stopped talking before now. Someone should have stopped her. But they haven't, so that's on the other three she reasons, "and I think it's bold of you - either of you -" she gestures off-handedly to Lemon, who's expression is mirroring his brother's, both exasperated, "to, you know, guarantee that, or implicitly guarantee that- that you'll be capable of that. And presumptuous," she adds after a beat, making a show of straightening her posture. Here is where her tone becomes more than a little wry, watching The Son out of the corner of her eye, "that you'll have to injure me that is; I'm playing nice with the frog."

"Why do you keep calling him that?" Lemon chimes in, choosing wisely to mostly ignore her rant, and The Son now actively glaring at Clementine across the table. They all were. And really she did have a point; shooting her was the absolute last resort, the arguments were unnecessary. Lemon's always been particularly reasonable about most things, which in this moment she's grateful for.

The question still managed to surprise Clementine, the woman growing quiet and pensive in the moments that followed. It takes her several moments of looking between both Lemon and Tangerine before she fully seems to believe that the question was genuine; both seem too genuinely curious to have already pieced it together.

"Because I'm The Scorpion." Like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

They aren't given proper time for the explanation to sink in before The Son himself tells her to fuck off if she isn't here to kill any of them, which might be the only thing she's glad he's said this entire time. It had become abundantly clear that even if The Son did know where her money was, he'd torture her like this for as long as he could before he'd hint at a cent. As always, he is of no help whatsoever. But Clementine can't help but take the bait -

"God I can't wait," Clementine cuts him off with a smug kind of vitriol, gloved hands coming to rest on the table in front of her, fingers spread wide and palms flat against the wood, "for your father to finally take something permanent from you," this time she speaks solely in Russian, clear and elegant, "I hope he starts with your idiot tongue." She's well aware that The Twins can both understand her, but she couldn't even begin to care. The message is clear.

The Son hadn't even been looking at her as she'd threatened him, only able to fixate on her gloved hands against the table; that too was deliberate on Clementine's part, a particularly cruel attempt to make him feel guilty when he can't look her in the eyes. But when he does, when he looks up from her fingers splayed out wide and meets her gaze, he has no tells, expression carefully controlled. He seems unphased by her threat. For a moment his eyes roam her face, analysing her. He's drawing this out, toying with her. It seemed to be an inbred skill within their family, this capacity for a specialised kind of cruelty. The way his gaze deliberately then slides to Lemon first, then Tangerine sets Clementine's teeth on edge.

So she'd gladly fuck off.

"Feels wrong somehow," Lemon muses quietly, there's unease written all over his face. Clementine can't blame him, "are we just takin' her on her word here?"

"I don't have time for this," Clementine snaps, finally, "I'm going to get an earful from my charge if I'm not back before the next stop." She shoves at Tangerine's side, but he doesn't protest, sliding out and graciously making room for her to pass. Standing once more, she gives pause to rifle through her bag in case The Prince had sent her any kind of message. None.

"Seventh car, right Clementine?" Tangerine's tone is unreadable, looking at her expectantly. It's not a threat, but it is some sort of promise, of this being unfinished, of her still owing them an explanation. The anticipation is warmer than expected, not wholly unwelcome, but she'd never admit that out loud.

Her phone goes off. Uncanny timing from The Prince, just like always.

Instead of answering Tangerine, Clementine turns on her heel and leaves in the direction of the seventh car, answering the call with a brisque what.

"Tone, fruit fly," The Prince chides her with faint amusement. Clementine's unimpressed silence speaks volumes, and the young girl tsks for a moment before continuing, "you've left me alone far longer than I anticipated, you really are searching thoroughly." There's something about the way she speaks, so carefully casual that it sets off alarms in the back of Clementine's mind.

"What have you done?"

"I rather like the word 'shenanigans' now that I've had time to think about it."

"I'm heading back now; what did you do?"

"Did you find the money?"

"Answer the question."

"Really you need to work on your tone," again The Prince's inherent air of superiority bleeds through the phone and grates on Clementine's nerves, "if you haven't found it I'm not too concerned, I'll have a look myself later on. But I'm glad to hear you're headed back, as I've found myself," she takes a long moment to pause and Clementine picks up her pace instinctively, "caught up in shenanigans, I suppose."

"Ma'am." Through gritted teeth.

"Tone, fruit fly! Really!" And a sigh that was both far too blasé and far too dramatic all at once; The Prince's malicious theatrics left her frustratingly unpredictable at times like these, "anyways if you could, hurry back. There's a situation developing. I already know you won't like it, but it's not as if you're being paid to enjoy your job as much as you are to keep me safe in situations like this."

"Like what?"

As she's then promptly hung up on, Clementine picks up her pace almost past the point of acceptable on a train, once more lamenting why The White Death couldn't just have had at least one normal goddamn child.

#tangerine bullet train #bullet train #tangerine imagine #tangerine x oc #tangerine x reader #bullet train oc #tangerine bullet train x oc #bullet train 2022 #tangerine #tangerine x clementine #tangerine bullet train x reader #tangerine bullet train imagine #lemon #lemon bullet train #the son bullet train

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funkys-pen · 3 years ago

Text

“Oohhh!!! That soulmate au where any writing on their arms shows up on the others arm!!! And they end up complaining about each other to each other until one of them finally realizes” [prompt via @mothman-files]

word count: 1056 | warnings: none ! | overall: fwhip/jimmy, soulmate au :D

Hello?

woah?? hello???

Hi.

Im your soulmate.

what??? no way

Yes way.

this is so weird, what?

Were you not expecting this? Eventually I mean

no?

how’s this even work?

When I write on my arm it shows up on yours. And vice versa

oh??

I take it soulmates aren’t a big thing in your culture.

i guess not

Thats fine. Its mainly a human thing.

and yet here i am

and yet here you are

how have you been?

Sorry. I felt you write something but I didnt see it. Ive been really busy.

it’s alright.

i just asked how you are :)

Aw.

Ive been fine. You?

same here.

I know its been a while again. Im sorry. Lots of family stuff.

I probably wont be back for a while. Have a good day though

all good. i hope everything turns out alright.

2.5 per star

3 stars

7.5 hearts per rocket

2 rockets bare

what murder am i witnessing?

Im sorry I forgot you could see this

you’re fine, you’re fine

been like… a couple years, i get it.

you’re definitely plotting murder though, whats up with that?

Ugh. Just this guy.

Hes annoying as hell.

so you’re killing him?

yeah.

okay. fair

whatd he do to you anyways?

Not much today.

He doesnt really do much, hes just irritating and its funny when hes mad.

i think i’m about to learn my soulmate’s a massive prick.

Me? No, never.

Yeah, a little bit.

i might be ready to plot a murder myself

Oh? Do tell

this smug twit. he took something of mine and cgod i hate this guy.

Whatd he take?

idk if i can tell you that.

something really important to me.

Secrets, secrets.

Whyd he take it?

hell if i know.

to be a twit.

He sounds like an ass.

he is.

Best of luck. Kill him slowly and terribly for me.

i will.

i think i just made a really big mistake.

i’m sorry. i know its late

Its fine. Me too actually.

what’d you do?

Dont think I can say.

me neither.

if you do something, and you know the consequences, but you’re just so angry that you don’t really realize the severity

does that make you a bad person?

I dont think so.

why not?

I guess its all about intent in the end, right?

You didnt really mean to do what you did.

But maybe thats just wishful thinking cause I sort of did the same thing.

huh.

Not quite, I mean. I wasnt really angry. I just didnt expect everything to happen like it did. I probably shouldve.

i get it

Or maybe were both just assholes.

maybe. we’re destined for each other for a reason.

Right.

I need to go to bed. If I can.

alright. rest well.

I’ll try. You too.

by the way, did i tell you i got my thing back?

the thing he stole from me.

Oh good :) Congrats

what's your name anyways?

Oh I definitely cant tell you that

aw, come on

No seriously. Youll know exactly who I am.

what are you, a celebrity?

Something like that

How about you, what’s your name?

well now im worried about saying mine.

What are you, a celebrity?

i mean sort of??

its a really generic name but i feel like it + the things i’ve told you would clue you off

especially if you know my empi

ignore that

Wait

No chance

ignore that ignore that

Youre an emperor?

Who are you?

dammit

Wait

Oh for fucks sake.

what?

hello?

look, i’m sorry if that freaked you out or something but

Its not that, christ.

I mean it kind of is, I guess

Ugh.

Hi Jimmy

there it is

hi.

you’re not a citizen are you

no one out of the codlands calls me jimmy

and we don’t do the whole soulmate thing here.

so after much deliberation, i think i’ve figured you out

Go ahead.

sausage.

Oh my fucking god.

what’s that mean?

Howd you get that. Please do tell.

is that a no?

well because we stopped talking due to your family issues right

and around that time was when the whole grimlands heir thing happened

and you’re too mean to be gem, and sausage is the twins like stepbrother or something

Godbrother

And Gems pretty mean.

either way

it was either sausage or fwhip.

and you wrote to me after the end fight saying you made a mistake and sausage helped free the demon

+you wouldn’t tell me your name because i’d know

fWhip also has a pretty unique name

and he led you to the dragon in the first place.

i mean sure

but that would mean fwhip is my soulmate

Is that really that much more unbelievable than it being sausage?

eh. sausage isnt really all that bad.

but not him, got it.

well there goes my one lead.

What do you mean?

the family issues thing. i can’t remember anything else around that time.

What about fWhip?

Again. That’d mean he’s my soulmate.

Jimmy.

what?

Youre ridiculous.

what??

come on, what do you mean?

Im going to fly to the Codlands and Im going to kill you

what’d i do???

wait really?????

you could’ve just told me.

You couldve just guessed better.

And I reiterate, you are dense as brick.

“What about fWhip” “How do you know it isnt fWhip” etc etc

Seriously I thought I was being too obvious.

well clearly you weren’t

it's not my fault. why would you be my soulmate i hate you

You didnt seem very hateful when you k

okay okay okay i get it

that aside

that aside you're just not what i expected

Uh huh

You literally called me a prick when I was talking about blowing you up, I think that

you were talking about me???

fits my bill pretty well

Yes??

God you are hopeless.

aw. that heart feels passive aggressive.

Maybe it is.

whatever

we need to talk about this tomorrow

Oh are we going to be doing as much talking as we did today

Thats “talking”, with quotation marks, by the way. In case you couldnt tell.

shut up

cod i hate you

Do I need to remind you of my previous comment?

shove off

#empires smp #fwhimmy #fish husbands #empiresshipping #empires fwhip #empires jimmy #empiresblr #tumblr exclusives

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yesimwriting · 3 years ago

Note

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

it a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!!

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door.

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz.

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing. When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact.

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.”

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.”

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.”

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.”

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?”

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...”

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me.

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone.

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz.

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.”

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?”

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis.

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.”

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.”

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.”

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely.

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.”

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.”

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.”

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.”

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.”

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.”

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt.

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read.

“You’re falling asleep.”

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple.

“You’re impossible.”

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?”

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.”

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.”

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.”

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.”

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.”

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.”

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.”

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?”

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?”

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards.

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?”

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.”

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.”

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final.

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone imagines #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows show #shadow and bone show #six of crows netflix

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shadyteacup · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! Im the one req 7 for chuuya sorry i didint specified, i just realized it. Can i get angst prompt 7 for chuuya?

Hiya! This pained me to write, so I made it fluffy at the end... sorry if u were looking for pure angst! I can't go to sleep peacefully peacefully after writing angst, I need to clutch my soft toys and cry myself to sleep..

Warnings: Angst to fluff, maybe a swear word at the end.. dw, it's just "bish", but like the actual word.

Word count: 2006 😳yes, I got carried away

Nakahara Chuuya + “Please wake up”

Forewarning

“Don’t move, Chu.”

You grumbled against his chest. It was yet another lazy morning for the two of you. Lazy mornings consisted of waking up late, cuddling on the bed till lunch time, getting dressed and having dinner at some exotic place, going for a long drive, then coming back home. It was a perfect day for a traditional lazy day, except for the fact it was a weekday.

Chuuya sighed. He had to get to work, and so did you. You both couldn’t afford to miss any workdays, considering that you both worked for the same organization, one that didn’t hesitate to punish for untimely work. Chuuya was an executive, and so were you. You both had multiple solo missions planned out for today and one mission wherein you both had to team up. It was going to be quite a busy day, and Chuuya wanted nothing more than to just get it all over with. He was looking forward to some lazy cuddles in the evening, after both of your jobs were done.

“We have to get dressed, dove.”

He tried reasoning with you. You were a workaholic, just like him. It surprised him to see this lazy side of you. But then again, you must be tired, he thought.

“I know. But let’s bunk today!”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, hoping to convince him.

Chuckling, he pet your head affectionately.

“The mafia isn’t some school that you could just bunk. Besides, don’t you love working?”

You frowned at that. You were feeling weird today. It’s like something was forewarning you. But about what?

“I just have a bad feeling about today. I don’t know why, but I feel like something bad is going to happen.”

He sighed. He was never one to believe I such things. That was why you weren’t telling him until now.

“We work in the mafia. How worse can it get?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

You smiled, getting up to get ready.

....

“The target is in the warehouse.”

Chuuya said to you. You both were currently seated in Chuuya’ s car, parked on a hill. Your stakeout point had a clear view of an abandoned warehouse. Apparently, it was the location where a rival gang was coordinating with some members of the mafia and stealing their goods. You both had already executed the moles and had sent in one of your trusted members as a pretend mole. He would send you both a signal when he felt that the security was the weakest at the entrance. You both would then attack. He was supposed to cause a commotion in there, resulting in majority of the guards to rush inside and leave the entrance wide open for you two. Your men had already sealed all exits to ensure no one got out. Now you were both waiting for the signal.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”

Chuuya pouted at your jab.

“I was just being thorough!”

“By stating the obvious?”

“You’re so mean.”

“Says the angry redhead.”

“What has my hair got to do with anything?!”

“Your hair has got to do with everything! I-”

A sharp sound was heard. Both you and Chuuya were blinded for a second as white filled your vision. You felt your torso pinch a little. It almost felt like someone was sticking a few needles into your tummy. You heard screams. They sounded frantic. A few moments later, your vision cleared, and you saw yourself floating in the air, a frantic Chuuya saying something to you. It all sounded mangled and mixed up. If you could have laughed at the moment, you would have laughed at how funny he sounded.

The screams had turned to cries, now. You were so confused. Who was crying? And why was Chuuya pressing down on your stomach?

Looking down, you saw the blood. There was blood everywhere. It had completely soaked your shirt. Chuuya was using his ability and his hands to keep it in. He seemed hurried. His eyes were watery, and streams of tears were flowing down his cheeks.

Finally understanding the situation, you realised that you were injured. Looking down at your torso, you saw the two bullet wounds. And now, you finally felt them. The pain was overwhelming. It rushed in like water at the breaking of a dam. It completely filled you up. You now realised that those cries of pain were actually your own. You wished to have never woken from your daze. You wanted to remain oblivious. You wanted the pain to go back to mere pinpricks. It was too much. Succumbing to the enormous pain, you let your eyes shut close. You realised that your body was going to sleep. Maybe for the last time.

....

Chuuya sat in a chair next to your sleeping form. You were lying unconscious on the clean white sheets of the hospital bed. Your entire torso was covered in bandages. You had taken two bullets, one in the side and one right next to your belly button. The doctors were able to save you in time, and it was a matter of time till you gained consciousness.

Chuuya held his face in his hands. The memories of just moments prior to visiting the hospital kept running through his head. He kept seeing flashes of your blood oozing out of your body. He kept remembering the way your eyes had glazed over while he tried to apply pressure on your wounds. There was so much blood. His mere two hands were proving to be inefficient. So, he had activated his ability to push the blood back in. He had no clue if that had helped. He remembered activating his ability the moment you had let out a blood curdling scream. He had levitated you both out of the car and high up in the night sky.

He should have listened to you. Your forewarnings were right. Something terrible had ended up happening. The mole he had sent inside was found murdered by the backup team, and the head of the organization had fled. His men had taken up sniping positions all across the hills. Two of them had shot you at once. He remembered going on a mad spree and pelting boulders at all the men in his sight using his ability right before he flew to the hospital with you in his arms.

“Has she gained consciousness?”, the doctor asked as she peeked in. Chuuya had asked all medical personnel to leave him alone with his sweetheart, a little too passionately, after they were done treating you, and hence the poor doctor was a tad bit scared to check up on your vitals.

Chuuya whipped his head up.

“No.”

The doctor scrunched her brows in worry. Rushing in, she did some tests.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if the patient doesn’t wake up in another hour, we will have to declare a coma condition.”

“What?!”

The doctor jumped at his outburst, but answered him, nonetheless.

“The body is behaving as if it is already in coma. This can also be because it is repairing itself. It doesn’t necessarily have to be coma.”

She sighed.

“But, if the patient retains this state of unconsciousness, we will have to rule out a natural healing process. I suggest you try to communicate with the patient. Sit close, hold hands, maintain physical contact. Try speaking. That way, maybe the body will react to a familiar scent, touch or voice, and gain consciousness.”

Chuuya gulped, worried, and nodded.

“I understand.”

He shakily made his way to your face, observing your serene features. He hesitantly put your hair behind your ear, breathing unsteadily. He felt immense guilt and anger. He was guilty of not paying your uneasiness an ear, and he was angry because he couldn’t save you. If only he had been more vigilant, more aware of his surroundings, he would have been able to smell a rat.

“I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have been able to protect you.”

He gasped inaudibly, trying to keep his sobs in. He couldn’t stop the tears. They flowed freely down his cheeks, a symbol of his immense fear of losing you. He couldn’t bear the idea of loosing you. It might be selfish of him, but he wanted you to live, because God-forbid, if you didn’t, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He knew that if such a devastating situation ever occurred, he would lose all sanity and go mad. He would lose his mental balance and completely fall off the edge. He couldn’t bear to be separated from you for two days, forget the rest of his lifetime.

He caressed your cheek, smiling bitterly at your sleeping form. Nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, he let himself truly cry. He let out all his emotions into your hair. He found comfort in your warmth. He has always felt the safest in your embrace. That’s where he could truly be himself.

He didn’t realise how long it had been when he began talking to you. Telling you how much he loved you and how he couldn’t live without you. He pondered on how he would take his life if you left him.

“I’d have to go to that stupid mackerel for guidance. But then again, he has been unsuccessful in killing himself for 22 years. He’s probably the worst suicidal guy out there.”

He was lying next to you now, cradling your frail form in his arms.

The doctor waltzed in, a serious and sorrowful expression straining her pretty features.

“Nakahara-san, I’m so sorry.”

Chuuya gritted his teeth, holding onto you tighter.

“No! There’s still a chance that-”

“Its hopeless. The patient has already been in this state for 16 hours.”

“16 hours?”

The doctor smiled sympathetically.

“I gave you a lot more time. I thought maybe the constant contact would help. But sadly, it’s out of our hands now.”

Chuuya sat up, holding your face in his large palms.

“Wake up! Wake up, damnit!”

He shook you gently, desperate to get any kind of reaction out of you.

“Nakahara-san! Please get away from the patient! You mustn’t cause any harm! Security?!”

The doctor rushed forward to pull Chuuya off of you, but he held onto you. He grabbed your arms, looping his own around them and pulling you towards him.

“Wake up!”

He rested his face on your chest, sobs escaping him.

“Please... please wake up...”

The doctor reached forward to clasp his shoulder, trying to pry him off of you.

A large gasp followed by couple of coughs were heard.

You took in a large breath, trying to swallow. Your throat was dry and scratchy.

“Y/N!”

Looking up, you saw Chuuya holding you in his arms, a relieved and surprised expression on his elegant features.

“Hey.”

Your voice sounded raspy, but it was music to his ears.

He engulfed you in a hug, one that knocked the air out of your lungs.

“She’s still a patient!”

The doctor reprimanded as the security guards pulled Chuuya off of you.

You smiled at the tiny ginger.

“I’m alive, Chu. Stop being dramatic.”

Chuuya laughed at your carefree attitude. He didn’t resist the men as they pulled him out of the room. He was relieved to see you awake. He didn’t care about anything else. Just as he was about to leave, you spoke up.

“Call Gin and tell her that I’m not dead!”

“You don’t need to call me, idiot. I was waiting right outside.”

You smiled as she walked in, giving you a hug.

“Why does she get to go in but not me?!”

Chuuya whined.

“Hey Gin, guess what?”

Gin smiled at you, sitting at the edge of your bed at the nurses did their check-ups.

“What?”

“I’m alive, bitch!”

Your snickers could be heard till the hallway, where the rest of your friends were seated. Shaking his head, Tachihara snickered.

“Good ol’ Y/N.”

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nobutfredweasleytho · 3 years ago

Text

YOU JUST DON’T LISTEN(F.W)

Summary: Fred’s ex girlfriend writes him a letter to explain the how him using her wrecked her emotionally.

Warnings: angst, like a lot of angst, depressed Y/N, mentions of self doubt, a little swearing, mentions of parents not loving correctly, used reader. Let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Major thank you to Gabriella @onlyfreds for being an amazing person and encouraging me to write whatever this mess is. I am forever grateful to you

(The font is terrible Im sorry im just getting used to working on tumblr)

Fred Weasley checked the muggle clock on his nightstand. 10:30 AM. His mom will call him for breakfast anytime now. He has been awake for quite some time if he can even count the 30 minutes he tried to sleep but couldn’t, not when every time he tries to close his eyes his mind and eventually dreams are clouded by her. By the last time he looked at her, how devastated she looked, How her face was wet from her tears and her eyes bloodshot red, but the thing Fred will never be able to forget is her voice. How raw and vulnerable she sounded while saying the most horrible thing’s anyone has ever said to him, but he can’t blame her, he has no one to blame but himself because in the end it was he who caused all of this and now its come to bite him in the ass. He hears the door open and his twin brother George enters.

“Mom says breakfast is ready and she wants you downstairs. She says she’ll drag you herself if you don’t show up again today.”

“Tell her I’m not hungry and I’ll come grab a bite later.” I really don’t feel like being surrounded by other people right now. Not in this pathetic state I’m in. Besides it will take me willpower I don’t have to not hex Ron into oblivion.

“Well she will not take no for an answer and I wont either. What’s done is done now and you’ll have to face the world someday so start with your own family because everyone down there is worried sick about you and the least you can do is show your face once in a while so they know you haven’t died of starvation or sleep deprivation.” George has worry written all over him and I’m sure the rest of the family has it too. I feel even more like shit for worrying them.

“Fine. But I come back here if she is mentioned are we clear?”

“We weren’t gonna mention Y/N anyway now lets go moms worried sick for your dumbass.”

Breakfast was going smoothly with Ginny and Ron being exited for Quidditch season, Harry and Bill discussing the unfortunate events of the Triwizard tournament last year, dad asking Hermione about a rubber duck whatever that is, but the most shocking thing is mom asking me and George about the joke shop products. George is doing most of the talking but still the fact that shes even asking is awesome. I was finally feeling peaceful this whole winter break until I heard a hoot outside the window.

“I thought it was Tuesday but since mail is here does it mean its Friday already? Oh how fast time is going.

“No Arthur honey you are right it is Tuesday, Bill or George can one of you see if that owl has the owners name attached to it and bring whatever letter he has here to see who is it for.”

Bill got up from his seat and went to the window next to the countertop to look at the mystery owl. “Do we even know a Y/N Y/L/N?”

The room went quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the owls hoot asking for its treat. Bill seemed not to realise this as he took the letter from the owl, gave him a treat and sent it on its way.

“To Fred Weasley from Y/N Y/L/N… Who’s Y/N is she the girl you’ve been crying over this whole time huh Freddie?” Bill chuckled but I just grabbed the letter. I had no time to even be mad at him because once again my mind fogs up with only her. I couldn’t help but feel relieved and the happiest I felt in a long time. She has forgiven me. Y/N forgave me. That has to be it. Why else would she send me a letter?

“I had a great time with you guys but there’s important matters for me to attend so I have to go to now. Thanks mom the breakfast was amazing as always.” And with that I sprinted towards my room, locked the door and examined the letter in my hands. It was a bunch of them in here. I went to mine and George’s worktable threw some papers that were on top of it to make room for these letters and carefully opened the envelope.

The first thing that I grabbed was a photo. It was a polaroid of me and Y/N on the Gryffindor common room. Happiness filled my heart when I started remembering this night. I looked at the back of the polaroid and surely enough there was a writing on it.

Fred and Yn on the Gryffindor common room at 1 AM the night she turned 17. Listening to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”. Picture taken by major 3rd wheel George Weasley.

Tears filled my eyes when I remember this night. It was the night I looked at her the way I always should have. Not as a replacement of someone who didn’t care about me.

The next one was also a polaroid photograph but this one I don’t remember being taken. It’s a picture of Y/N teaching me how to play the guitar. I can make up that we are in her dorm but not more as the picture is taken in black and white. I look at the back and surely this one also has a writing on it but the handwriting doesn’t look familiar at all.

A drunken Y/N accompanied by a even drunker Fred trying to play the guitar in the middle of the night. If I fail my charms exam tomorrow I’m killing you both but right now you two look adorable. Picture taken by Cho Chang.

The third one is an actual letter. I chuckle looking at the handwriting. Always so precise and not even one line out of place. I always thought Y/Ns handwriting always contradicts her hot headed persona but it’s actually really cute. I start reading the letter and my heart stops.

Dear Freddie,

I can only imagine the shock that receiving a letter from me would cause you right now especially after our last conversation.

But I have a lot to get off of my chest and I wont be able to move on if I haven’t said it all. Call me a coward but I was really scared to ask you to meet me so I can say it in person, but maybe that’s what I have always been. A coward. A coward because I get scared when someone wants to enter my life, a coward because I hate trying new things at the expense of failing, a coward because I should be able to confront people who brought darkness and sadness to my life.

But one thing I will admit Fred Weasley is that I wasn’t a coward when It came to loving you. It was the first time that I let someone come into my life and heart the way you did, and it will probably be the last. Throughout our “relationship” if you can even call it that as it was more of you customizing me to be her, to be someone I’m not. But that’s why you even talked to me is it, because I reminded you of her.

The signs were right in front of me and I feel stupid enough not to have seen them. But I guess people are right when they say love is blind. Love is such a funny thing to me as the first time I experienced the right kind of love was through you. But that was me creating stuff in my head. You didn’t love me no, you loved the idea of me. But I loved you. I loved you more than anything or anyone I have ever loved, I loved everything about you. But you just don’t listen. You don’t listen to anyone around you. Not George, not your other siblings, not Lee or any of your other friends for that matter, not your professors, but most importantly you don’t listen to me.

You didn’t listen when I told you that the love my parents gave me was only because I reminded them of my brother, the love my old friends back home gave me was one of interest. Everywhere I go no matter who I talk to no one will love me for me. I came to accept that until I met you.

You were funny and crazy and brave and oh so gorgeous. You were basically everything I looked for in… well everything. In a friend or in a partner it doesn’t matter. I thought you saw me for who I am. A broken teenager with issues but that at the end of the day was deserving of love. Oh how wrong I have been but no more wrong than you. You knew this but you just didn’t listen.

That makes us both horrible people now does it. Me who thought you were some kind of savior or some kind of saint and selfishly wrapped myself around your love and you who used me because I remind you of your ex girlfriend who broke your heart. But mine is excused I feel like and yours isn’t.

You would have kept me going for who knows how long just so you can live your imaginations you had for someone else.

Did you think about her the first time we slept together?

Was I not enough for you Freddie?

Was I too clingy too soon?

Is it my hot temper that gets the best of me?

So many questions will be left unanswered on my end because frankly, I never want to speak of you again. Sure I am deprived of love but I will not take it if its not directed directly at me.

I still care about you and will continue to support you and George on whatever you set your mind into. I was waking through Diagon Alley last week and saw this little store with a “for sale” sign. It’s right in the middle of Diagon Alley. I hate how my first thought went that you would have loved it but I seem to do that a lot recently.

I’ll get dressed and think would Fred love this skirt or this shirt.

I start applying lipstick and I’ll think will Fred love this color.

I start eating and I’ll think does this look good enough that Fred would’ve stolen a piece of it when I’m talking to Ginny.

I don’t even know why I am telling you this. How pathetic I’ve become clinging into someone that doesn’t want me.

Anyway I’ve probably bored you enough with my ranting but I wouldn’t have been able to move on unless I said everything that felt heavy on my heart. I also attached some photos I thought you’d like to keep seeing as now you can see yourself with Kayla without having the burden to be near me.

Say hi to your siblings and Harry for me.

Have a nice life,

Y/N

#harry potter #fred x y/n #fred weasley series #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley angst #george weasley #hogwarts #fred and goerge weasley #weasley family #sadnees #i hate this

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jaesvelvet · 3 years ago

Text

jealousy jealousy — kim junkyu

words: 1.7k words

warning: grammartical errors,idk what i write does it make sense? reader being insecure!

pairing: junkyu+fem reader

notes: i want to publish my jihoon's ff but i haven't finish it yet since my school is starting soon😭 anyway this ff inspired by olvia rodrigo's song, jealousy jealousy (remember you're beautiful just like the way you are!!!🤍)

you couldn't help but grinned as you step into the famous YG building. it feels like a dream come true. you used to be a trainee in a small company for 5 months before decided to left, you realized that you didn't have the talent to be an idol, you're just average on everything, that's all. you gasped when you saw a huge screen in front of the escalator playing blackpink's mv on the screen. YG is that rich exactly like the news said.

"y/n!"

you turn, grinning widely at junkyu, who from the convenience store with some snacks on both of his hands. you waved at him and junkyu laugh in response

"i'm sorry for being late," he said, handing some bread to you

"no it's okay i just got here," you said

you and junkyu are best friends since high school, you're the one who supported junkyu's journey to debut, and junkyu was grateful to have a friend like you, junkyu always convince you to audition at YG but you refused since you now want to focus on your studies. but after junkyu accidentally saw a book full of lyrics song at your desk, he forced you to record one of the songs in his studio and release it on soundcloud so junkyu could promote the song to his fans.

of course, you reject the offer saying you can't sing and you don't want any attention in the university. a medical science student releases a song on a soundcloud, out of the blue, and treasure junkyu promoted her music?? no way!

however junkyu being junkyu, he didn't give up and keep encouraging you to record one of your songs, you didn't need to prepare anything just bring the lyrics and yourself, and the rest, he will work on it. after weeks tried to convince the you, you finally agreed with one term; which is junkyu need to buy you food. a lot of food.

"okay so here it's my studio, um it isn't something to brag about since half of the members have their studio," he said, opening the door of his studio showing his messy studio with a big portrait of treasure on the wall.

"you should clean your studio if you want to impress a girl kyu" you joked, getting a whine from junkyu mumbling that he would never see the world again if he brings a 'girlfriend' over.

junkyu pressed something on his keyboard and bass sound came out, making you flinch, the instrument that junkyu creates is mellow and kinda strident? as soon as you heard the instrument you know which lyrics from your lyrics book would go along and make a perfect song

"i have a perfect song for this" you excited, taking out your black notebook and turn to a back page—clearly the lyrics are fresh from the oven.

"okay i'm gonna play it and you sing the lyrics okay?"

you nodded and sing a little bit of the lyrics

"i kinda wanna throw

my phone across the room

'cause all i see are girls

too good to be true"

"woah! it's perfect" junkyu gasped, amazed at how the instrument he made suits perfectly with your lyrics. you smile, you didn't suprised much since you know how much passion junkyu has in music.

"okay now you eat first, i'm gonna rearrange the lyrics to suit with the melody," he said and get a nod from you. you eat the bread that junkyu bought for you, you also eyeing the studio, it's kinda cold in here cause the space not too big and they put a big ass aircond on top of you.

junkyu notice your quiver, he rolled his eye when you only wearing a thin black shirt material, he scoffs before handing you his pink hoodie that he left in the studio yesterday.

"i won't turn off the aircond so you must wear this hoodie, it's been a week since i wash it," he said in a teasing voice, you frown yet you have no choice to wear the pink treasure hoodie or else, you're gonna die in this cold studio.

you sigh in relief when the hoodie warms your cold body, you side-eyeing junkyu who looks so serious rearrange the lyrics, you then click on the instagram icon, you felt blue as you saw haeri post on your feed— haeri is a popular rich girl in your university, you and her once assigned in a group for an assignment and she is very kind and open about her opinions, she also very serious when it comes to study/work and she is pretty, to your eyes she is like a goddess. she is so pretty, kind, and selfless, and you really lying if you didn't jealous of her. she has a perfect life and you still struggling to get a diploma.

you slowly pressed the screen twice, liking a picture of haeri; wearing a beanie and a mask in a cafe without posing too much, getting 2 thousand likes within 1 hour. you wonder how is it to be like a rich popular pretty girl in university? well, damn sure you will get all of the pretty privileges in your life. you sighed as you realized you're comparing yourself again with haeri. you always remind yourself not to compare yourself to anyone since you're beautiful enough but you can't. the funniest thing is you and haeri didn't even know each other, yet you being so jealous of her life. sometimes you just feel small, you want to be like them.

"y/n!" junkyu shakes your body making you slap his hand

"what!?"

"i called you for like thousand times! you didn't hear me?" junkyu said, stroking his hand that got slapped by you

"oh i'm sorry, im zoning out, you're done rearranging?"

junkyu nodded

"you can listen to the instrument and practice your lyric with it," he said

"okay"

an hour passed, you finally get the tempo, beat, and rhythm right, you grin excitedly as junkyu put the headphones on your head and directing the microphone to you

"you ready?" junkyu asked

"yes i am" with that, junkyu clicked on something and you could hear the instrument, you begin to sing the verse of your song choice.

i kinda wanna throw my phone across the room

'cause all i see are girls too good to be true

with paper-white teeth and perfect bodies

wish i didn't care

you stop singing and look at junkyu curiously making junkyu paused the song and look back at you with a confused look

"why?"

"doesn't singer usually stop singing for producers fix their mistakes?" you asked making junkyu giggle

"yes that's true but you didn't have any mistake, you're doing good, i will pause the music if i have something to fix" he explained, getting an 'oh' from you. you continue singing the song.

i know their beauty's not my lack

but it feels like that weight is on my back

and i can't let it go

com-comparison is killin' me slowly

i think i think too much

'bout kids who don't know me

i'm so sick of myself

i'd rather be, rather be

anyone, anyone else

my jealousy, jealousy started followin' me

started followin' me

as you singing the song that you wrote, junkyu couldn't help but wonder who is the person, you dedicated to? or how you inspired to write this song? this song is obviously about your insecurities about some girl, and you don't even know her! junkyu pout when you felt like this, he knew how insecurities could kill you, back then when he was a trainee he felt insecure with all of the trainees that beat him to debut, he felt he doesn't belong in here but with you and his members on his side, he gained confidence and prove to the world that he is himself and nothing can change that.

all your friends are so cool, you go out every night

in your daddy's nice car, yeah, you're livin' the life

got a pretty face, a pretty boyfriend, too

i wanna be you so bad and i don't even know you

all i see is what u should be

happier, prettier, jealousy, jealousy

all i see is what i should be

i'm losin' it, all i get's jealousy, jealousy

you remove the headphone as soon as the instrument stop playing, you handing the headphone without noticing junkyu's face, chaeyul grabbed the water bottle and drink, her throat felt dry after singing a whole song which you have never done in your life, making you wonder how did singer voice so stable when singing live?

"kyu—oh my god why are you looking at me like that?" you take one step back as you saw junkyu looking at you with frowns on his face, you bit her lips was your singing that terrible?

"sit down here" he ordered, you quickly took a seat beside him without saying anything

junkyu grab your hand and rubs it softly while looking at you with his brown eyes.

"what you see is all fake y/n. she living her best life is what you see what you want, but you didn't see her pain, how hard she must through a day in her life, we didn't know if she struggles behind, you also know you can't compare yourself to others right? you're beautiful" he said

"but, i don't know kyu. i couldn't help but felt all jealous of her, i feel like a total loser" you said

“no y/n, you're not a loser! hear me out, you do great, you beautiful and an amazing person, so why do you need to be insecure to a person you never know? everyone is beautiful on their own, you're an original version of yourself and no one else could be you. you are special and unique, you wouldn't know if someone is jealous of your life, a successful medical student who has a great voice. you need to love yourself more, let yourself shine in your spotlight. trust me popular life wouldn't great as you think" he said

you smile at his words

"thank you kyu, honestly, you're right.i didn't appreciate myself enough this past week, hearing you said that making me feel great about myself, i am me, there's nothing anyone could change about me"

junkyu smile and pat your head

"that's my girl"

#treasure imagines #treasure scenario #treasure yg #treasure junkyu #kim junkyu #junkyu imagines #junkyu scenarios #junkyu fluff #junkyu angst #treaure blurbs

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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

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Title: nocuous [the intruder] Pairing: Jujutsu sorcerer!gn!Y/N x Sukuna [heian era] Genre: tragic dose of angst [almost!lovers au]

Synopsis: “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I knew how this was going to end but I’m still terribly hurt by it.”

Warnings: smoking, teeny tiny spoilers, and brief mentions of sacrifice brides-ish? Notes: well our professors were nice enough to give us a free week and my mind has been poking around with jjk angst so i ended up with this. Anyways, hope yall enjoy it like you did with pretty eyes! in case ya havent noticed, im just self-indulging myself with angst fics and idk why

lil dictionary: kiseru pipe- cigars used by old japan in the meiji era. haori- it’s sort of like a jacket used but it’s not thick!

masterlist || taglist

“...You have quite the terrible habit of breaking into my home.”

The only source of light and sound in your large room is the dimly-lit lamp and the crickets from outside. The presence of the man who invaded your territory was too strong to ignore that you wondered if your neighbors felt such thing, “...and you’ve grown old.” he retaliated. If this were any shaman or sorcerer, they’d be scared out of their wits, probably even pissing their pants as they ran away from this curse.

But to you, he was simply just Sukuna.

Despite the countless attempts of chasing him down and battling him under the darkness of night, he still manages to sneak into your home and sit right across you just like when you were the ripen age of sixteen, filled with big dreams while he was the boy who was deemed as the strongest, the protector, the hope.

You chuckled, “Are you about to kill poor and defenseless old me?”

Unlike Sukuna who maintained his rather ‘youthful’ appearance, you’ve grown old and the wrinkles on your face are not hard to miss anymore. You were human after all and aging was only something you could welcome with open arms.

He scoffed, looking away from your appearance. The king of curses did visited you random times throughout his years after he defected from your side and he wonders why you’ve never ratted him out nor why you’ve never had a knife ready up his heart, “I feel like we’ve come to an agreement that we wouldn’t be at each other’s throat here.” he grumbled, watching you light up the kiseru pipe.

“Hm.” you hummed, “That’s right, I don’t really like cleaning and it is quite expensive to have everything fixed up.”

“You’re rich.” he deadpanned.

“And I plan to stay rich by not having my countless properties destroyed.” You huff out a smoke, “You getting lonely up that shrine of yours? Was that why you’re visiting me now? Miss having my knife up your neck?”

“Why would I be lonely?” He asked, laying his head on one of his hands, “The villagers who worship me seem to send women and men my way for company.”

You raised a brow at his statement and Sukuna seems to notice the flicker of disappointment on your face. He senses an odd feeling blossom on his chest at that moment, something familiar that makes him want to take back what he had just said because despite the villagers sending him those things they considered beautiful, he’s never touched them yet he decides against telling you because what good would it actually be?

“I hate you.” You confessed out of the blue.

“You aren’t the first one.”

“Oh, trust me. I hated you before you became a curse so I think I’m the first one.”

It’s silent once again.

“I’m guessing that I’ll take that as my cue to leave?”

This was how these secret late night meetings would end usually; it was fleeting, quick, and bitter. You wondered why he even bothered to keep visiting you, it’s not like you don’t see each other when you’re hunting him down, “Why do you even bother to visit?” you ask, ignoring his previous question.

“Why not?”

“You’re impossible.”

“What’s wrong with wanting to see a friend?”

His tone was condensing as if he was mocking you for that so-called friendship that you two had shared.

This made you place one hand flat on the floor, making your haori come off loose on one shoulder, exposing a part of your skin as you take another huff of your pipe, “Friends, huh?” you were almost hurt by the way he put things into his perspective, looks like this bastard had become more of a sadist now that he was infamous with a title , “That’s an understatement to describe what we were.”

The heavy silence lingers in the air once again, Sukuna clicks his tongue, “You’re too emotional.” he stated, eyes narrowing in judgement, “I’m your enemy, Y/N. You’re suppose to kill me and I’m suppose to kill you.”

Hearing him call you by your first name is foreign to your ears every time, unlike the soft tones before. It now sounded hollow and empty.

“You make it sound like it’s easy.” You blink, containing yourself, “But then again, what did I even expect?”

Sukuna is was human.

He did feel things.

He wouldn’t deny that when he was a mere boy thirty years or so ago, he felt something strong for you but right now it was just void and darkness, every positive emotion all gone.

He’s even surprised on his part that he hasn’t laid a finger on you during these secret meetings. Maybe he was just reminiscing? Unlike him, you were bound to death and it seemed as if he succumbed to that small flicker of emotion in his body. Was it regret? Sadness? He’d never really come to understand these types of things after he turned to a curse.

“I guess that’s my signal to never visit you again, then.”

Yet before he even leaves, your small and melodic voice envelopes the room, “It’s ironic, isn’t it?” this time, when he turns to you, you're both facing each other eye to eye across the room. The distance between you was so near yet so far, just like the memory of the man that you loved when you were twenty and hoped to grow old with, “I knew how this was going to end but I’m still terribly hurt by it.”

The king doesn’t give you a reply that night, instead he keeps his word and never visits you again.

taglist [if crossed out i cant tag you]

@airybnb ;; @hcn421 ;; @shinhiromi

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine

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