#while my health and I remain at odds | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pseudowho · 4 months ago

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"Why are we going to a scare trail, when you scream if a pan falls out of the cupboard?"

Kento grumbled, cosy in his cream turtleneck and teal overcoat. You preened, pressing the lids onto your travel mugs, and leaning up to nuzzle the shell of his ear.

"Because it's fun, you grumpy old goat. Come on. I need protection."

"You need sectioning, perhaps," Kento scoffed, opening the car door for you, "or the public needs protection from you." Kento shifted into gear, reversing with his arm behind your seat. You stroked a hand over his thigh.

"Well, you can be my supervisor then...sir."

Kento coughed, stalling the car at the turn, and grasping your hand with a warning glare.

"Don't. You know what that does to me."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Clearly, the gates of hell had been opened into the other end of the Funfair. The screams were not ones of delight.

But, at the entrance, autumn leafcrunch and early chill, swirled with wood fires and yakitori and street food, spicing the crowds with orange and gold. You tucked your arm into Kento's, as if an old married couple, and squelched through the mud to your destination.

Kento grimaced up at the entrance, opening his mouth to speak, before you interrupted.

"I heard they used pig's blood. Not fake blood."

"That is grotesquely unsanitary--"

"--come on, let's queue up--"

"--I should report them to the Health and Safety executives--"

"Shhh, sh sh sh, come on now...there. Lovely."

Bouncing on your tiptoes in the queue, Kento shot you a wary sideways glance, speaking slowly, testing every word.

"I...am perfectly serious, though. You don't usually tolerate frights like this very well. Despite your profession. Always something I found...odd."

You sighed, shrugging. "Just...an overactive imagination, I think. There's something thrilling about being scared but safe. A luxury that work doesn't give us."

Kento was quiet, looking pensively into the Horror Maze, while you allowed a zombie bride to scan your entry passes. "Yes...that makes sense."

Kento was absolutely right, as you headed in. Within minutes, you were rendered useless, in a maze of bloodstained walls and cells-- some crude, tasteless attempt at an insane asylum.

And Kento remained...utterly unshaken. Not a hair out of place. Not even a flinch. Just his usual flat boredom, and irritated rumbles.

'Patients', 'doctors', 'nurses' and 'orderlies' in various states of grisly disrepair, chased you through corridors, backed you into cells, and rattled bars at you until you clung to Kento like a baby monkey.

Neither of you noticed how one of the doctors you passed turned to look at your retreating backs, tufts of fuzzy peach hair peeking out from under his surgical cap and goggles.

"Does nothing scare you?!" You demanded of Kento, squealing like a little girl as a 'doctor' tried to strap you to his table. Lifting you to safety by your waist, and tutting at the perturbed 'doctor', who sagged, put-out, Kento replied, solemn.

"Perhaps my fears are a little more abstract." You almost laughed as an approaching 'nurse' cringed away at Kento's devastatingly withering look.

It was only when you were both chased through a corridor by a horde of screaming visitors and 'patients', that you and Kento became separated. Your adrenaline felt less fun with Kento's absence, and you backed against a black curtain, your heart pumping rapidly souring blood to your limbs.

"Kento!" You called, your voice pitched and rising, "Kent--ooooooh!"

You were yanked back through the black curtain, your sobs muffled beneath a thick brown glove, and your assailant was quick to reassure you. He lifted his goggles and lowered his mask to grin at you, sweet and sunny.

"Hey! Mrs.Nanamin! It's just me."

You melted with relief, sniffling, "Oh my god-- Yuuji-- what are you doing here--"

"Ahhh, just tryna earn some extra cash. I saw where Nanamin went, want to go catch u--"

"No! Wait...Yuuji. Help me scare him."

Yuuji faltered, blinking. "What? Scare Nanamin?" Yuuji pondered, pinching his chin in thought. Eventually, he shook his head, smirking. "Nah. Nothing scares him."

You puffed your cheeks out, shaking your head. Peeking out from behind the curtain and surveying the carnage the actors wreaked upon the screaming visitors, you shook your head.

"Nope. I insist. Let's scare my husband. We'll find something-- anything."

And so, at your insistence, you and Yuuji staggered through a montage of terrific failures.

You locked Kento in a dark room, and he only hummed in minor irritation as a hissing, ragged contortionist spidered out of an impossibly tight chest. He kicked the door open, and held it open for the bewildered contortionist to leave first; "After you."

Yuuji manipulated Kento down a corridor with naught but increasingly unsettling nursery rhymes and crayon monstrosities on the walls. Kento found the radio, switched it off, and gave the crayon-marked wallpaper a despairing side-eye. He tried to scratch some crayon off, grimacing in dismay.

You encouraged a 'nurse' to spill a bag of 'blood' over Kento; he performed exquisite manoeuvres to save his coat, before sternly berating her-- "I'd rather not explain that to the dry cleaners, thank you."

Eventually, leaning back on a rickety wooden railing on a platform above the exit, you and Yuuji admitted defeat. Yuuji rubbed your shoulder in sweet conciliation.

"I told you," Yuuji sighed, as if you didn't already know, "Nanamin just isn't scared of anything."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I just--"

The crack of the rail breaking behind you and Yuuji pierced the night, and you plummeted to the ground below, the air punching out of your lungs. Coughing, groaning, and dazed, you barely registered Kento calling your name, and calling your name, and CALLING YOUR NAME--

"--shit--" Kento swore, pale, and checking your head, and your eyes, and your body, and your eyes, and cupping your cheeks and surveying you for hurt or damage or injury, "--shit, are you hurt? Say something-- say something--"

You coughed, flapping a hand, saved by your Cursed Energy. "Fine, Kento, I'm fine--"

"-- jesus christ...you scared me."

You blinked up at him, feeling like the worst wife in the world. "I...scared you?"

Kento wasn't listening, still feeling your body all over in pale concentration. Yuuji sat up beside you, watching from beneath his goggles, cap and mask. He opened his mouth to speak, and Kento did not look up, but raised a single stern finger to point at him.

"Not a word, Itadori-kun. You scared me too."

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 16 days ago

Note

Could I request part two of "A Well Deserved Grudge" for the remaining OB guys?

Thank you for all you hard work Moss!

A Well Deserved Grudge Pt.2

You hate them after their overblot. Part one.

Characters: Leona, Azul, Idia, Grim

Content Info: Gn! Yuu. Yuu is fucking mean in this. A lot of angst. Azul and Idia self deprecated a lot. Mostly Yuu breaking down and snapping tbh. Grim Hate

Leona

“Wow look at who it is. The king himself. Tell me, what did I do to deserve the honor of being in his majesty's presence?”

Yuu locked eyes with Leona in the hospital mirror, no doubt out of bed against doctors orders. Their damaged face matched their voice that dripped the venom of sarcasm. They were smug, overwhelmingly smug with a slight smirk to match their upturned brows.

“Well…? I'm waiting.” There's no fear in their demeanor at all. There never has been. Even when there should be. Yuu was brave, he'll give them that. They had a right to be angry.

Leona closed his eyes, taking a breath, then opened them again. “I came here to apologize.” He kept it brief. The hatred in their eyes told him that them didn't want him here more than necessary. Not like he'd blame Yuu.

“Oh? But what for your Majesty?” By now Yuu turned around, and Leona could truly see the extent of the damage done to them. Cracks permeated their face, reaching from their cheek to across their nose along with the corners of their eyes. The small smirk on their dry lips twitched for a second and he could see a few more cracks on them that bled. It was like a porcelain doll knocked off its stand

“I mean…” They took a step forward, as if to circle him, maintaining eye contact the whole time. The thin hospital gown swayed with them as they continued. Odd squelches and snaps sounded with each step from damaged feet that shouldn't be stood on.

“You sure showed them, huh? Everyone will know how tough you are now when they hear the tale of how you… valiantly fought and won against a magicless human that dared to threaten your throne…” They continued to circle him for a bit before pausing.

Their smug expression dropped to a cruel glare, turning to fully face him. More pops and snaps sounded from them. Parts of their arms look warped, as if their flesh was made of plastic. Yet the cracks along their arms were nowhere near as clean as the ones on their face, crowded together in craters and showing raw flesh in between them.

There was no way to respond to this in a way that would smooth things over. There was no way to smooth things over. He debates between holding his tongue or speaking, brilliant mind now failing him. He knows for sure that Yuu deserves to curse him out and that they probably need it for their mental health.

“I am here to ensure that you're fully cared for. I arranged for some of the top doctors to visit you and ensure your recovery outside of the hospital as well.” There is no fully recovering from this. They both know it.

Yuu's expression becomes more neutral, then they seem almost impressed. “Wow. How utterly magnanimous of you, your majesty. Why I'm practically kneeling at your feet and singing your praises… At least I would but uh, ah I can't seem to fully bend my knees, hmmm?” Their leering only seemed to get more and more intense.

“Thank you for your kindness, your majesty. I finally learned my place now. I will never forget our first meeting where you threatened to take a tooth from me after a most egregious offense I committed to you. How awful of me to not be able to see everything at once while adjusting to a new environment. I apologize for my shortsightedness. This was a most appropriate response…” Their hospital gown stretched out with their arms, showing off their injuries

A mock pout they wore turned sour. They bitterly looked to the side, theatrics starting to fail. “Well, you did indeed take a few…” Yuu pulled the corner of their mouth, causing more cracks to form along the corners. He could see the raw, irritated gums that once held their molars.

“I'm glad you got what you wanted. Do you feel powerful now? Clap for yourself, I mean really, you do deserve it, I'll also give a round of applause as well…” Their damaged hand made a few slow, sarcastic slaps together that sounded like sandpaper.

“I do wonder… What would the news look like if they heard about this? ‘Beloved Prince Protects NRC From Human!’ or ‘NRC Now Safe From Magicless Maniac!’”

Their eyes searched his, staring deep into his soul. He couldn't tell what they found within them, but it was clear they saw something. “Oh relax, I won't tell. I don't have autonomy here remember? I don't exist, so why would they listen? Not that anyone would have believed me anyways...” The Prefect looked to the side, trailing off.

“...Okay I'm done with this, just get the hell out of here. You won, okay? I'm a weak little herbivore. I don't want to see you ever again. Just leave me alone.” They were disgusted as they backed away from him, watching him the whole time. Leona saw how Yuu carefully shifted their weight, trying not to wince from the pain felt by moving.

He didn't say anything. Yuu didn't want him to speak. They sat down on the bed and stared at him until he turned to leave. It was when he closed the door he heard sobs.

Azul

He was shaking. Shaking as he stood in front of the door of the doctor's office. No matter how much he tried to steel his mind, he couldn't relax. He felt sick. His hand quivered. He didn't have the strength to open the door.

He had to eventually…

A deep breath, and he pushed it open, holding back the urge to throw up from anxiety. From the hospital bed, he didn't fail to notice how Yuu’s expression dropped the second he opened the door.

“Oh. It's you.” The Prefect tried to sit up, just to let out a gag and choke for a second, laying back down. How many ribs did he break when he grabbed them? How much did it hurt?

“Great to see you again.” They snarked, wrinkling their nose in repulsion before relaxing their face again. “So? What's up? Here to visit a friend?”

Azul was silent, watching as Yuu stared straight up at the motivational posters on the ceiling as they wheezed with every breath, not wanting to look at him. They were clearly expecting a response. Now where was it?

“I- erm. Prefect– I mean Yuu—”

“Prefect is perfect.” Yuu spat.

“Ah yes… Prefect…” Azul found his footing. “I am…” He had a script for this. He had a script for this…

“I'm sorry–” he tried not to cry. He tried not to be that stupid crybaby, but he was. He's just a pathetic, stupid, ugly crybaby no matter how hard he pretends not to be. Stupid stupid fat fat stupid.

“Oh my god I don't want to hear your pathetic blubbering. If you're gonna do that, get the hell out of here. I don't want to deal with this shit.” Yuu was exasperated, damn near shaking.

“Choking on sobs while I'm choking just to breathe, are you fucking serious?” He was snotty trying hard to fight against the tears, they were right, they were right—

“Let's ‘make a deal’: take whatever you want, just get the hell out of my life, Azul. Don't talk to me, don't even look at me. Take Ramshackle, I don't care, not like I can go up the stairs to my room now anyways. You don’t even need to handle any medical shit I have. You won.” Yuu was crying now too, shaking in their bed.

“Got it? Just fucking go. And be sure to share my sentiments with Jade and Floyd as well. Spell it out for them: I hate them. I hate all of you. You're all so pathetic, you're not even worthy of being considered shit on this earth. I don't want you here.”

That was all Azul needed to leave. They hate him. You hate him. He feels sick. Filthy. He deserves it. He deserves it. He's just a pathetic little octobaby. It's all he will be.

Idia

Idia was beyond anxious. He was petrified to leave his room and see what he had done. Idia knew he couldn't hide forever. He had to confront Yuu and own up to everything he did eventually. He doesn't want to do this. Why can't he just hide away.

Just breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale… Exhale…

Phew… here he goes—

The second he stepped up to that door he could hear it. Faint sobbing. Idia’s feet were cold once again as he stood there.

Should he wait? Should he just go in?

C'mon c'mon c'mon— What does he do here?!

�� He can't do this. He can't. He's just going back to his room and will send a bunch of stuff their way with a lengthy, well-thought out written apology…

It won't work. He knows it won't.

Dammit! His parents and Ortho won't let him avoid this forever…

Another breath. He opens the door. He feels he's going to vomit.

Yuu jumps a bit startled. They blink as if to see if this is real, then stare at him with contempt. “... What do you want?” Their leer has Idia damn near shaking. It was even more unnerving with the darkened veins across their face.

“I- I erm– I came to um… ahem. O-Our doctors at STYX will continue to work with you and monitor your condition. We… We're sure with just a few tests we can get you back in p-perfect condition.” His eyes scanned the various burns and deep cuts along their body, most of which were covered in bandages.

“... Are you serious?” Yuu’ voice dropped dangerously low.

“U-um… Yes?”

“No, I mean are you fucking serious?” Yuu snarls at Idia, teeth gritted and eyes wide. “You seriously think I want to be around you sons of bitches any longer after everything that happened?! After you destroyed my dorm?! Took my friends?! Af… After you did this to me?!”

Yuu breathes heavily in and out. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?!”

“E-eep!” Idia yelped, trying to make himself seem small. He wants to go to his room he wants to go— They're crying now, they're crying!!!–

"Unless it's a way home I'm not interested! I thought…” a sniffle, followed by a bitter laugh, “I thought the ‘whole ending up in a different world’ thing was supposed to be fun! Was supposed to be cool! I was… I was supposed to go out and explore and make friends and learn all kinds of magical things about how this whole world works and all that it has been for me is hell!”

They're sobbing into their hands. “I'm no one! I have to do all of this on my own and I have no identity, no nothing! I always have to fix everyone else's messes! I have to learn everything with no help! I'm always left behind, I don't have anyone, I can't… I can't do this anymore…”

They look at Idia, puffy eyes filled with so much anger. “Why couldn't you have just kill me? Why? It would have been the one good thing you've ever done. Now I have to continue living like this! Doing this stupid job! Having to check on everyone— and no doubt when I'm able to walk again Crowley is going to make me check on you!”

Idia was whimpering, backing towards the door he came in from. He knew this was a bad idea. He should have just stayed in his room…

“I hate you! I hate everyone! Nobody here cares about me, no one here ever checks on me, I have to babysit all the time, I never get to rest! I can't rely on anyone– and I have no one.” Idia was shaking, and just like a shark to a drop of blood, Yuu smelt his fear was was going in for the kill.

They're leaning in as far as they can, holding the side of the hospital bed. “What are you cowering over? What, do I scare you that bad? Shouldn't I be the one afraid of you?!”

Yuu is now glaring, the fire inside them turning icy. “You are so pathetic, Idia. I hate you. Hate. You. Just go.”

He was relieved to finally get out of there. Now he can shut himself away and take care of anything he has to from a distance, behind a screen. Away from everyone.

Grim

Something was off.

Yuu wasn't themselves. They haven't been themselves since the whole STYX situation. The second they made it back to campus they didn't seem to be as tearful or relieved as everyone was. They were stiff in the group embrace. It was exhaustion. It had to be. The adrenaline had worn off and they could finally relax.

It didn't explain how Yuu continued to be so distant for the next week. They would always round him up and force him to at least try to study so he could be a great mage, how Yuu would get on his case about every single little thing. His chores, the food budget, their jobs.

It was bliss. Yuu was less strict and he could finally do whatever he wanted. No more holding him back, no more lectures, he was free. Surely the prefect as his henchman learned their place. But then it started to worry him.

Yuu didn't pay attention to him. They no longer helped him with anything. They didn't respond to any of his usual quips. They left whenever he started to instigate something. Yuu just… didn't back him up anymore.

Ace and Deuce noticed it too but when they asked Yuu about it, Yuu just shrugged it off. Seriously, what gives?! He shouldn't be treated like this!

It all came out in homeroom. As one student, he and his henchman were partners per usual. Yuu was careful. They handled everything with precision and care per usual— Proper safety precautions, careful measurements (their arm seemed to shake a bit more, that hasn't happened in the past), perfect stirs.

And, per usual, Grim barely did anything. Aside from messing everything up.

Crash!

Everyone stared at the broken vial on the floor, with Grim right above it. There was tension as Crewel turned to see the damage, looking to see who to punish before his head turned to Grim. “I-It was Yuu! They did it!!” He pointed his stubby paws at them not noticing how their eye seemed to twitch when he did so.

“Don't lie Grim, Yuu didn't do it, you're just blaming them.” a random student came to their defense, leaving Grim high and dry.

“I see. Well then. Grim will have detention after class, and as his caretaker, you will have to join him, Yuu. You need to learn to keep your partner on a tighter leash.”

Yuu seemed to deflate just a bit. “... Understood.” Then they turned away from him as usual. Not even a lecture.

“Geez Yuu, why didn't you pay attention to me? It wouldn't have fallen over if you'd have done your job.”

It looked like Crewel was about to step in to lecture him. But Yuu’s voice cut in front of his, voice cold. “Because I expected you to be able to do basic tasks without coddling after all this time… Besides, you aren't worth it.”

“Wh- What do you mean Yuu?”

“I hate you.” You could hear a pin drop in that room from how loud the silence was. Grim just stared. “Hah?” He then glared at them. “Don't joke like that its not that serious.”

Yuu just shrugged. “Hey! At least answer me!!”

“I meant it, Grim.”

“This isn't funny Yuu.”

“I am not joking.”The Prefect crossed their arms and stared down at him, gaze cold.

“Recently I had an epiphany, a realization more like.” Yuu was speaking in a clinical tone. In this moment they were a researcher sharing their findings in a factual manner.

“I can't remember a clear moment where you have done anything meaningful for me since we first met a year ago. It has just been cleaning up your messes and catering to your selfish whims one after the other. I think what finally made me realize, was this.”

Yuu pulled down the sleeve to their uniform to show off the deep cuts Grim left in them after his freakout. They were jagged and deep and would no doubt leave an ugly scar. Whispers broke out from the crowd, murmurs about the dire beast circulated.

“I struggle to close my hand quite often now,” To demonstrate, they tried to flex their hand. Their fingers didn't extend all the way. Their face contorted into pain as they winced, hand shaking Grim swallowed, guilt washing over him as he tried to look smaller. “It's not like I can get occupational therapy so easily here, so I have to live with this for now.”

They now leaned down to him. Grim's widened and Yuus face seemed to grow more and more snarky, more cruel. “None of this would have happened if you just listened. How many times have I warned you not to consume those waste gems?” Yuu then leaned away, hand under their chin as they continue.

“Anyways, I then thought some more about all the effort I put in just for it not to be reciprocated. This relationship we have is quite one sided. It's more like 90:10 on a good day… and since then, I started to hate you, and everything about you…”

“I am a brilliant mind, you realize that? It's just an objective fact. I can't believe it took me this long to realize just how pathetic you are. After all, I have picked up an otherworldly language and culture and became near the top of my classes with the effort I have put in. I have a better understanding of magic as a magicless student than you.”

The crowd just watched as Yuu paced a bit, sorting out all of their thoughts for all to see. It was different seeing them like this, bit the students seemed to eat it up, taking their side.

“You don't contribute anything to those around you. You don't even contribute anything meaningful to a basic conversation aside from complaining about how tired and hungry you are. You cannot even sit down and review simplified notes I made specially for you.” Grim was shrinking with each word spoken, it felt as though he was being stabbed a thousand times over. It was a betrayal that he should have expected of he had any self awareness.

“You're selfish. You always take from others and don't have any endearing traits to make up for it. I have gone days without meals because you couldn't fathom that I need to eat too. You fail to recognize others as people and use them as scapegoats. The only reason you're passing your classes is because I get straight As... Thank you for turning them into Cs by the way.”

They didn’t seem to care how he felt. They didn't feel bad. How could they? “Surely by now you should be able to take care of yourself, oh great mage? You always told me how overbearing I was. Thankfully, I have good news.” He had a feeling it wouldn't be good news…

“Crowley finally got around to making our grades separate from now on, so you can't rely on me anymore. Which is why I have been collecting and saving all of my graded assignments.” Oh no. That was bad news. It was good for Yuu, yes, but now he's screwed. I mean he doesn't deserve this right? It's not his fault this school is so hard! How is he supposed to pass now?!

“You're welcome. You got what you wanted. You're your own mage from now on. No need for a lowly human to drag you down.” This lowly human was the only reason he got this far.

"I'm sure I could find other students in my classes that will help me with any magic barriers— you are barely able to do it anyways. It doesn't matter if you get held back to me anymore, I can graduate without you. I no longer have to rely on you to exist here, so I can finally say it: I hate you.”

The class seemed shocked, asking each other if Grim really was that awful. Grim was blubbering, panicking. A firm smack of a ruler hitting the inside of a hand interrupted it all. “That's enough, Yuu! Bad dog!” Crewel tapped the ruler in his palm again.

“My apologies professor, I am done. I do hope my potion is up to your standards, seems like Grim hasn't started on his.” They set a delicate bottle on his desk, awaiting review.

He was panicked now. Wait. Fuck. He hasn't been helping. It was Yuus potion! The direbeast merely looked over to Yuu who cleaned up their workstation, not even sparing a glance to him until the very end. They looked over once more at Grim through their goggles.

“I do hope you remember your detention. In any case I am done here, I am going to go help other groups professor.” Just like that, they left him, Grim could only watch as the group they joined adopted them instantly, asking them if they were alright and offering their magic if they needed it. It was no suprise most student liked them. They were always kind. The only looks he got back were from other students that seemed to judge him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #angst #azul ashengrotto x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst grim x reader

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keruimi · 8 months ago

Text

Your Dream

Pairing: Obanai Iguro x reader

Warnings: Mention of Sexual Abuse, Death, Total Angst

Note: It has a similar plot with my other Obanai Oneshot but why do I feel like this hurts more? Anyways, I am back to writing Kny especially when it's angst. And yes, it's Obanai Iguro again, my favorite character. The only reason I wrote this is because of the Obamitsu Angst in my fyp like stop reminding me, it really hurts. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it because I don't want to suffer alone.

____________________________

It was a normal life I live, working as an average kakushi who is mostly assigned in the kitchen.

When an odd request from Oyakata-sama changes my routine. When he assigned me to deliver meals to the new pillar, the Snake Hashira, Obanai Iguro.

At the age of eighteen, I finally experienced the anger of a Hashira with just my presence.

Knowing I was silent my whole life, I never found the reason why the Hashira glared at me on our first meeting.

I can't even count how many meals have been ignored or thrown whenever I deliver it to him.

Feeding the Snake Hashira became part of my routine that I completely memorize the route of his manor since he doesn't want anyone to be with him.

"Y/n, please take care of Obanai Iguro's health for me"

Those are the words I hold onto as I tolerated the cold treatment of the Hashira.

I lost track of the times I stay outside the freezing cold when he doesn't want to open his door for me.

It became more torturing when my heart suddenly beat faster when he started treating me differently after a year.

When he finally started to accept the food I cooked and delivered to his manor. Even if he can't finish it, I am thankful that it wouldn't become a waste anymore.

I knew our simple interaction progressed more when he allowed me to come closer to his space. Even a job that I shouldn't be doing, I'm doing it for him.

Like cleaning his manor, grinding ink for him, and helping him sort different poetry he has written.

Those simple moments introduce me to the new side of him that I slowly fell in love with.

It made me want to try harder until the walls he built around him completely fall down.

Until he can finally open his heart to me.

But that friendship I tried to stabilize, brick by brick, became nothing when he met her in the Ubuyashiki mansion.

My effort is almost nothing with how easy she manages to make him soften to her.

And I started to look for the reasons why.

The friendship I tried so hard to build is ruined and I felt like I went back to the first time we met.

The cautious aura that made it difficult for me to connect to him.

And I knew those thoughts are really happening when the food I brought is left untouched.

"I have already eaten with Mitsuri"

It was the sentence I kept hearing but I didn't stop doing my duty of making his food for him.

Because I learned to love taking care of him.

Those tasty delicacies I used to love cooking, change when I noticed he was disgusted just by the smell of it.

I adjusted so many things that I completely forgot what I really love.

Just to serve him right.

I prevent the cough that is threatening to leave my mouth as I grind ink for the Hashira I am serving.

As he wrote the letter he always sent to her.

It was breaking me. But I have no right to feel anything for him.

I already knew ever since, that a high-ranking warrior like him is not meant to love me.

But the weak side of me silently yearn that he can return it.

But seeing how in love he is with another woman. I knew I never had a place in his heart.

But just a mere presence that accompanies him in the garden.

I was just a shadow he would never notice. A person that serves him, and he would not change his perspective on me.

I was beside him so I could serve him, not to love him.

I wipe the single tear and escape my eyes before he notices as I force my body to move according to what he wishes.

While he remained clueless of my emotion that I tried so hard to get rid of.

The emotion that broke my heart when I saw the ring in his room while I was cleaning.

I could never look at the mirror just to see how my eyes portrayed the pain I felt when I saw it.

"Obanai-san really liked Mitsuri, don't you?" I mustered up the courage to speak my thoughts with a slight teasing tone as my back faced him.

I bit my lip to stop the sob that is threatening to be heard as I heard shuffling behind me.

"Obanai-san must treat Mitsuri-san right. Marriage is a dream for every woman. Especially when they will have a good man to love" I turned to him with a smile as I slowly opened my eyes and saw how soft his eyes turned because of embarrassment.

I don't know his past. I don't know what he loves.

I don't know Obanai Iguro.

But I know he has a hard time trusting others.

"I hope you both live a happy life" I managed to let out but it came out as a whisper as I took my things and left the room.

I froze the moment I left his manor as the tears I managed to subside finally escaped my eyes as I found myself crying on the way back to the village I live in.

I knew it was coming but my heart won't stop aching. My eyes can't stop crying. My mouth can't stop sobbing.

I really love him.

But he is not mine.

~•°•~

I lost track of the years when the female kakushi started to serve me.

The only woman I allow to enter my manor with the excuse of serving me.

Because I thought of changing myself even a little no matter how much I feel fear or disgusted by a female approaching me.

Because she gave effort to providing me with the most comfortable thing I needed. Especially during my meal time.

Starting with a simple window being opened, creating less flavorful food that I can tolerate.

I knew she was adjusting for me so I let her presence in my everyday life. Until that became like a friendship I was thankful for.

I can talk to someone about things without including battles.

I love her like a family.

That explained how my body felt frozen when I heard the news of what happened to her on the way to my manor.

The news of her being taken advantage of by a man who manages to memorize her route to my manor due to her everyday routine of walking her way there.

The anger I felt was unexplainable that I can find myself hurting a fellow human.

I knew humans can be evil, but I didn't know I could hate them more than I hate demons.

But I thought I made a mistake too.

If I just let her stay in my manor so she wouldn't exert too much energy just for my food, I could protect her better.

I know I'm slowly losing control when my self-restraint almost fell apart when I visited her quarters and I found her silently sitting at the corner of her room, hugging her knees.

As the spark in her eyes completely vanishes.

"She refused to eat nor let another woman near her. When the others approach her, she flinches. We don't know how to approach her anymore" the Kakushi who led me to her room stuttered out as I felt my hand grip the wooden door in anger.

Yet my eyes badly wanted to cry for her.

"Shinobu tried to check on her but she started to cry whether she was near. We just confirm the situation when the evidence of the sexual abuse was present in her body when we found her unconscious in the forest"

"Stop talking" I snap at him who immediately keeps his mouth shut as my snake hiss at him who scurried away.

"Y/n, it's me" I knocked on the door even though it was already open to make her aware of my presence in the room.

I don't know how I control my voice who I thought will be expressed in a trembled tone.

I am a man.

That is the first thought that came to my mind that made me decide to sit at the floor near the door.

"Obanai Iguro, you know me, right?" I spoke again and she kept her silence making my hands tighten its hold on my pants.

I'm not used to this side of her.

"Are you scared of me?" I asked slowly as silence occupied the entire room before she shook her head a little.

"May I come closer?"

With that question, I notice how her hands tighten on the blanket surrounding her making me release a shaky breath.

I never knew I was willing to hurt a fellow human just for her.

It made me want to make the man suffer badly. Worse than what he did to her.

"I'm sorry" I was left speechless when those were left on her lips and I immediately shook my head.

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. It was them that wronged you" I am not good at words but I wanted to completely express my concern and pain for her.

I badly wanted to avenge her.

"It was me who should apologize because I was not there for you"

"I am not your responsibility..." She whispered and I shook my head once again, wishing for her to look at me even once so she can see how badly I am hurt for what she has experience.

How desperate I am to show she was not alone during this time.

"You are. Because you are important to me" I felt tears in my eyes as Kaburamaru slithered his way to her and slowly circled around her shoulder in a protective manner.

"I am tainted..."

"You're not" I firmly stated. "I am the tainted one between the two of us" those words quickly left my lips without any hesitations and she finally had the courage to look in my direction.

"So don't look at yourself that way. For me, you are still the same Y/n that accompanied me" I stuttered out as I tried to stabilize my breathing.

"I will seek justice for you. That's a promise"

I saw how a tear left her eyes as she looked outside the window. Removing her gaze on me.

"In our generation, marriage is every woman's dreams. Is a symbol of acceptance. Is where you will really feel you are loved and chosen by someone" she whispered.

"But in order to be chosen, you need to be pure, compliant, and well-mannered. That's what it takes to be a good wife" she stated as Kaburamaru nuzzled his head on her cheek when he noticed her difficulty in breathing.

I badly want to lend her my shoulder to lean on, an advice to make her mind clear. But in this situation, we both knew she just needed an ear to listen to her.

Someone to comfort her with just presence.

"But if you don't meet those requirements, you will be shunned by society. You will lose the qualification that a wife has."

"Right now, I will not be the wife of someone. I will not be married to a man I will dedicate my life to. Because I don't have my purity that only my husband should have." She whispered.

It was a painful word to state out loud. But right now, I can't read her.

Because she completely closed off her emotions.

"I don't fit the standard that a wife should have." She whispered as she buried herself in her blanket that hid herself from me.

"And it hurted so badly"

I closed my eyes when she spoke those words.

And I hate myself because I can't do anything for her but just torture her attacker.

"What else is your dream other than marriage?" I ask her as she closes her eyes to rest it for a little while.

"I want to meet the one that is willing to spend their entire life with me" it was a hopeful wish.

Silence occupy the room and I thought she fall asleep until she whispered the words I never expected to hear from her.

"I love you..." It was barely heard but I knew it was the words she hide for so long.

That made it known to me that I could grant that dream to her.

But I decide to give her the time she needs to heal from that painful experience.

She needs to heal.

Those are the thoughts I could only think of as I laid her down in her bed in a more comfortable position when I noticed she had finally fallen asleep.

But I never expected that it would be the last time I would see her with her eyes open.

Because when I came back the next day, the news of her death was the one that greeted me.

It was a nocturnal death because her heart failed during her sleep.

It finally felt like my whole world collapsed and my mind completely shut down.

If it weren't for Sanemi being beside me, I would have completely fallen on the floor as I kneel in front of her room.

It hurts.

I wanted it to stop.

But I know that nothing could make her happy anymore.

Because that nightmare would continue living within her for the rest of her life.

I never manage to cherish her smiles more. I only shrugged the moments I have with her because I thought we would stay that way.

That I never knew I was running out of time.

It took every cell in my body to approach her cold body that is covered with white cloth as I kneeled beside her.

I silently slid the ring that she found on my mansion in her finger as tears continued escaping from my eyes as Sanemi just stood behind me.

I lost someone who made me feel like I have the family I never have.

In this life, we were parted to heal.

But I will make sure that her wish will be granted.

"In this life" I started to whisper as my lips lean on her fingers where the ring stays.

"As God as my witness, I promise to take you as my bride. Give myself as your other half" I keep mumbling as I squeeze her cold hand as tears continue to fall from my eyes.

"That even death can never separate us. Because in our next life, I'll make sure, that I will utter this words to you again"

And in that life, you will be alive to hear it

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muzaktomyears · 26 days ago

Text

Yoko’s life revolved around her acquisitions, but her most valuable acquisition was John. By marrying Lennon she had established herself as a celebrity and financial power to be reckoned with. It was the process of acquisition – not the object itself – that kept Yoko going. Antiques were routinely delivered, examined, and carted off to Apartment 71 or to the basement for storage. Clothes were bought and hung up, never to be worn. Once she had acquired something, Yoko lost interest in it. She lost interest in John after they were reunited and she lost interest in Sean after he was born. She treated them both with an icy reserve bordering on contempt.

Life became complicated for Yoko because John was not an inanimate object, but a human being – one with an active imagination, a strong sex drive, boundless energy, and a terrible temper. Indeed, Yoko lived in fear of John’s occasional outbursts of anger and frustration. Although he remained quietly behind closed doors most of the time, she knew well that John’s passive and self-absorbed behavior masked an overwhelming restlessness. Like an old lion, he could turn and bite your head off when you least expected it. Whenever John got a little stir-crazy upstairs and threatened to become “difficult”, Yoko attempted frantically to appease him with vague promises, or she would scare him with ominous psychic predictions and mystical mumbo jumbo. Usually, Yoko could keep John in line with a few carefully chosen words. One of her favorite ploys for controlling him was to tell him that the planet Mercury was going retrograde, a perilous astrological period during which accidents were likely to happen. When I asked John what Mercury being retrograde meant, he explained that it was an astrological period when the planet Mercury, “the messenger”, appeared to move backward against the sun, causing massive disruptions in communications and generally creating “chaos in the cosmos”. Yoko was always to tell me that we had to keep John isolated for his own good. Once in a while, John would try to circumvent Yoko’s strict rules, but he would often regret it soon afterward. For instance, one day John was listening to radio station WBAI when he heard a very eloquent, urgent plea for contributions. New subscribers were to receive a copy of a book titled The Devil Was a Woman. John wanted the book, and as WBAI was one of the radio stations he frequently listened to – he was particularly interested in nutritionist Gary Null’s health show – he impulsively ordered me to call up and contribute one thousand dollars on his behalf. Immediately, the station announced the contribution. When Yoko heard about it, she read me the riot act. She reminded me angrily that whenever John acted impulsively, I was to bring his behavior to her attention before following his orders. I was to consult her about all matters involving John and “human relations”, or his having dealings with the outside world. “After all,” explained Yoko, “I’m here to protect him.” I assured her I understood perfectly. Yoko had the key to John Lennon, and she used it to make John her sole possession by taking him out of public circulation. The old lion had pulled in his claws eagerly and agreed to give up rock and roll and its deleterious lifestyle. Because of his self-destructive behavior when he was on his own, John believed that the only sane alternative was to isolate himself. Moreover, Yoko had offered him the opportunity to try parenthood all over again. When she managed to give birth to Sean against all odds, John took it as a sign of divine intervention. He told me that both he and Sean were “riding on Mother’s good luck”. His childlike dependence on Yoko was so great that he dreaded the thought of Yoko dying before he did. “I hope I go first,” John had told me, “because if Mother died before me I wouldn’t be able to face life on my own.” He had resigned himself completely to the proposition that he could not survive without Yoko. Thus, John willingly sacrificed his freedom for the illusion of safety. And it was part of Yoko’s Faustian pact that she had to keep John, for better or for worse, and remain an appendage to John’s fame and to the pervasive Beatles legend, no matter how much she craved independence and personal fame. It was no wonder that she bitterly resented John, even as she was constantly conscious of the need to retain his loyalty. Without John Lennon, Yoko Ono was just an eccentric lady with no money and no power – and for this she would never forgive him.

John Lennon: Living on Borrowed Time, Frederic Seaman (1991)

#john&yoko #yoko ono #john lennon #fred seaman #books

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sansaorgana · 2 months ago

Text

— HUMBLED (II)

PART ONE

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Vala!Reader // Morgoth x fem!Vala!Reader

SUMMARY — Driven by guilt after abandoning him, you went back to the place where Mairon had been slain. You find out that he is still alive but in the weakest form and shape. You take him in to nurse him back to health in the solitude of your Mirkwood fortress where you are hiding from the Valar, disguised as an ordinary human.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — 👀 The Reader in this fic is a Vala (and Varda's sister but she remains undescribed as well), so she changes her appearance like Sauron does but I am not describing any of her forms in any details. The smut part is not with goo!Sauron although I'm sure some of your freaks would probably want that. 😂 I know that the fortress in Mirkwood was built by Sauron much later in canon but I wanted to use it in this fic, although I didn't use its name, so it doesn't have to be the exact same one anyway. Once again I want to thank @dinsbeskar & @olchr-1 💚 Special mention to the queen of Sauron fics @just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace and her fanfic Remade where the iconic evil!Reader is nursing goo!Sauron back to health as well. 🥺

WARNINGS — Reader is evil (reshaped by Morgoth but not completely evil), mentions of domestic abuse (with Morgoth) & of Sauron and Reader being tortured by Morgoth, goo!Sauron, murder, SMUT, dom!Sauron (with sub undertones)

WORD COUNT — 3,830

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

HUMBLED (II)

Perhaps it was embarrassing for a Vala to feel so enamoured with a Maia but you could not help it – Mairon was all you could think of after your departure.

And after finding out that he had been slain during his coronation after your departure, you could not help a pang of guilt filling what was left of your heart. You had abandoned him and left him all alone at the mercy of all those dark and rotten creatures your husband had created and lured. Of course your sweet Mairon would never handle them on his own, without your support.

You missed him, too – your devoted servant who had worshipped you like nobody else before. When you were being an object of his desires, it was as if you were no longer Varda’s rival because Mairon could make you feel like the most important goddess in the whole world.

Therefore, after many years of being tormented with guilt and yearning, you decided to go back North and inspect the fortress where he had been slain. You could easily trace the very floor where he had laid dead because a black stain remained there. And you tilted your head while examining the cracks between which his blood had to be streaming down.

Your instincts led you underground where you found yourself in a cold and damp cave filled with sinister, ominous presence. There was no doubt that whatever was left of your servant still lived there.

And then, as if it was drawn to you, you spotted an odd, small form creeping towards you on the floor. It was not humanoid but visibly alive although its breath was barely present. The way it moved caused your heart to clench inside your chest out of pity. When it found itself by your feet, it wailed pathetically and whined.

You had a new form now as you were disguising yourself as a young woman of the human kind but his spirit would recognise Mother of Flames everywhere and in every form. Just like yours would always recognise him.

“My poor, sweet Mairon…” You crouched down to touch the malicious substance gently. “I am so sorry for abandoning you,” you whispered as you opened your hands and watched him struggle to slide onto them. “Just a little, my darling, you can do it. And once you’re with me, I will take care of you,” you promised. “I will nurse you back to health, my Mairon,” you encouraged him as he eventually managed to crawl up to lay in your hands. He sighed out of exhaustion and you chuckled softly.

You stood up and brought him closer to your face. He was like a little, gruesome pet and you found it adorable in a way as your godly instincts to take care over weaklings awakened.

“I shall take you away from here, my sweet spirit. Rest now, darling, you are safe now,” you cooed to him.

And inside your hands you took him safely back to the place where you had been living in hiding these days – in the southwest of Mirkwood where Hill of Sorcery was and you spent your days there alone in a fortress long-abandoned, away from everyone, trying not to attract any attention.

Having Mairon with you in his odd shape was merely counting as a companion although you were speaking to him all the time and he would answer with squeals, whines or sighs. You prepared him a cosy spot near the fireplace, which was always lit up due to your control over that destructive element.

As a fallen Vala, you had no power anymore to create life – not in the same, pure way as the others at least. Therefore, you did not want to risk bringing him back to life with your will because it could end up badly. You’d rather the process of his healing take centuries than to bring him back twisted and deformed in any way.

You felt bad for not being able to help him more, so you devoted your days to finding him wild animals to feed on and sometimes you would allow him to feed off of your own godly energy to gain strength as you would caress his foul form and coo to him.

As time passed, slowly but progressively, his shape was growing in size and getting more and more humanoid. He was even more gruesome now because he no longer resembled a pet but became a dark shadow that was creeping around the fortress as he kept following you around obediently.

Oftentimes, he would exhaust his weak form by doing so and you would turn around with a soft sigh and a smile at the sight of him breathing heavily on the floor.

“My sweet, Mairon, you should rest,” you crouched down to help him move back to his usual spot by the fireplace. “I am not going anywhere, do not worry, my dear. I shall never abandon you ever again, you have my word,” you caressed him.

He reached out his limb towards you and you smiled lovingly at the gesture.

“You seem to be quite ready, don’t you think, my dear? Should I fetch you a bigger meal?” You asked him.

You were excited to finally bring him back fully but on the other hand you had grown so used to this shadow following you around for the past few centuries that you were not sure if real, bratty Mairon was someone you wanted to handle again. However, you did not want him to suffer anymore.

The dark shape nodded, eagerly and you leaned in to place some sort of a kiss upon where his forehead would be.

“Be patient, dear. Soon, you will be back with me. And now, regain your strength,” you assured him and watched him fall asleep.

When he did so, you left the fortress and hunted for a human or an Elf who would walk around unguarded. Not that you would not handle someone of this sort – you were a goddess, after all. You simply did not want any witnesses. The woods were dark and mysterious, therefore one disappearance would not alarm anyone but to have a rumour going around that there was some dark spirit living amongst the humans and the Elves of Mirkwood – that you did not want.

Therefore, using your craft of deception and luring, you teased a young lumberjack into your fortress. He was in a trance but once you locked him inside the same chambers where Mairon’s shadow laid, he screamed out loud with terror. However, he was too far away from the nearest village for anyone to hear him.

You smirked to yourself as you paced around impatiently, waiting for Mairon to deal with his prey. The sounds coming out of the room were concerning but you knew that an act of rebirth required lots of dirty work.

Finally, the doors creaked as someone opened them slowly and you turned your head around rapidly.

There he stood in front of you – your Mairon. He chose a new form for himself this time, a little shorter, with curly brown hair and beautiful green eyes. He was in a human shape but you assumed he was not strong enough yet to create a form as pure as Elven. In fact, he looked like a commoner – him wearing his victim’s clothes was not helping the impression.

He was smiling proudly and taking deep breaths in as you watched him with widened eyes.

“You… You look different,” you pointed out, taken aback.

“So do you,” he answered and you cracked a smile at the sound of his new voice. What a privilege it seemed to be now to be able to hear his voice. “My Lady,” he added and bowed his head slightly. “I am yet too weak to take more noble form but in this one we both look the same. I would never dare to take a form higher than yours. I know you need your disguise but so do I. I hope you do not mind this choice.”

“Not at all,” you shook your head and approached him. “I have nursed you when you were a… A shadow. How can you think I would ever be able to cast you away because of your shape or form?” You cupped his cheeks as his stubble scratched your hands.

Short silence occurred, in which you two were staring at each other intensely. You were the one to make the first move as you pulled his face towards yours to plant dozens of tiny kisses all over his face while your hands brushed his curls.

Filled with joy to be in your arms and to be greeted by you this way, he wrapped his new, strong arms around you and made an attempt to give back at least half of those hasty and desperate kisses.

“My Lady, my Queen,” he whispered between them, “my saviour, my Goddess.”

His kisses grew more hungry and passionate as his lips moved down to your neck, kissing it eagerly and sucking on the sensitive skin. His hands, shaky from anticipation, worked on the lacing of your gown. He was too desperate to ask if he could stain you with his touch but you would never reject him.

Whatever was between you two now had differed greatly from whatever you two had back in the day. After all those centuries of taking care of him in his weakest state while you two were hiding away from the outside world, you felt that the connection between you two was as strong as ever. Perhaps even stronger than the one you had once had with Melkor.

“Mairon…” You gasped when his hands finally untied the corset of your gown and he tore it off of you like a wild animal in heat, pushing you down onto the floor.

This time it was you underneath him, at the mercy of his will and his desire. And you should mind that but you did not – in fact, you craved it. It had been ages since he had a body and now his flesh was filled with uncontrollable desires. You wanted to be the only subject of them as you would never allow him to fulfil them with anyone else.

“You are mine,” you reminded him when he grabbed your wrists and crossed them above your head, pinning you down.

He looked deep into your eyes as his pupils widened and nearly overtook the beautiful green colour completely. He growled and leaned in to give you yet another hungry kiss and you wrapped your thighs around his waist, pulling him closer. You could feel his erection already because the clothes he had taken from the commoner were thin and loosely put on.

“You belong to me,” you whined between one hungry kiss and another while he took both of your wrists into one of his hands now to be able to remove his clothes with the other. He was chaotic while doing so, desperate to get rid of anything between your bodies. “Tell me, Mairon. Do you serve me still?” You asked.

There was a new energy about him in this form. He was still only a Maia but you were a very weakened Vala and he was no longer a pathetic spirit you had remembered. He reminded you of your husband in a way that you were now anxious about.

“I am yours,” he breathed out and held onto your hip with his free hand as he buried himself inside of you and groaned out of pleasure. You shivered as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your hips bucked up as your walls throbbed around his length, welcoming him in by greedily sucking him in deeper. “I am your servant and yours only. There is nothing holy to me except for you,” he confessed and let go of your wrists to squeeze your cheeks, which caused your hazy eyes to open and look deep into his.

They were no longer green; not even black. He was too driven by desire to be able to control his form and his eyes were terrifying and animalistic as if he was a serpent and not a human. Yet, the sight only made you throb around him some more.

“In your name I shall heal this realm and you will have your temple like I have promised,” he hissed out. “But if you ever abandon me again, I shall give up on you, too. Like I have given up on all the other gods,” he threatened and perhaps he had earned a reprimand for that but you couldn’t help a moan at his words as your hips bucked once more and he began to thrust into you.

His rhythm was far from steady; it was chaotic and desperate, rough and fast. He groaned and buried his face in the crook of your neck, assaulting your skin with kisses and bites as his big and strong hands held onto your hips to be able to fuck you even deeper.

You tangled your fingers in his brown curls and pulled on them, which only spurred him on and with your other hand you scratched the flexed muscles of his back. Your moans and whines filled the whole fortress and lucky were the habitants of the near villages to live far away enough to not be able to hear you.

Like two desperate animals with your clothes scattered around and torn, fucking on the floor. There was nothing holy about you two at that moment and nothing noble either. Even your forms were human, therefore you had to resemble two primal and primitive creatures instead of the regal and holy spirits that you had originally been.

“I will never abandon you again, sweet Mairon. Have I not promised you already?” You whispered. “Whatever path you want to take, I shall take with you. Reunite all the dark creatures of this realm for you again, command your armies, I shall do it. Stay here forever and get lost in each other’s embrace for the whole eternity instead? I shall do it, too,” you confessed.

Your devotion – the loyalty of the one he had been worshipping ever since his creation – was enough to make him spill himself inside of you with a groan of pleasure and relief after such a long time of yearning. He moved up to look at your face and he caressed your sweaty cheeks while he kept thrusting in and out of you to make you reach your peak, too.

“Once we heal and take over this realm, I will defile you on every altar built for you,” Mairon promised you in a raspy voice, his eyes back to normal now but still foggy from his orgasm. “There will be no more Valar for our subjects, there will be only you. The only goddess. Any form of worship of the other Valar will be considered blasphemy,” he whispered sweetly and you moaned, feeling the muscles of your abdomen tightening as your walls clenched hard around him but he kept on fucking you. In fact, he picked up his pace. “Such a goddess you are and look at you, so humbled underneath me. How humiliating it must be for you, my Queen,” he teased, cruelly and instead of getting angry or ashamed, you finally came all around his cock, shivering and moaning as he watched in awe with a smirk, fucking you throughout your orgasm.

He was slowing down alongside your breath going back to normal and his rough human hands were caressing your cheeks now, brushing out the hair strands away from your sweaty face.

“You forget yourself,” you breathed out eventually.

“You liked it,” Mairon pointed out. “And I shall do everything to please my Queen,” he chuckled with a sparkle dancing in his eye. “I bet you would like to do it again, my Lady.”

“I do,” you grinned but he shook his head as he laughed.

“Work before play,” he leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead. “And we have a lot of work to do,” he pointed out and moved away as you whined at the sudden emptiness.

“What are you talking about? You have just regained your form back,” you sat up and tilted your head at him.

“I have had centuries to come up with a scheme and I do not wish to waste more time,” Mairon told you, gathering the scattered clothes from the floor to put them back on.

You sighed and rolled your eyes before laying back on the ground.

“What is it, my Lady?” He furrowed his brows at you.

“Nothing, my sweet,” you chuckled. “You’re back at it, are you not? You cannot ever just let it happen or have fun. You must always work and be a perfectionist about it.”

“I might have a new form and a new will but some things never change,” he answered.

“I wonder sometimes why the Valar have not found me yet,” you sat up again to look at him and he froze at the mention of the other gods. “I mean, they are not searching for me hard enough because I am not that well disguised. Yet, they have not come for me yet and I know that in their eyes I deserve a punishment.”

“Do you have any theories about it, my Queen?” Mairon asked, curiously.

“You are my punishment, I reckon,” you told him. “I am humbled to be enamoured with a servant and I have to endure your annoying ways,” you added but with a playful smile that signalled your affection.

Mairon smirked nervously. He had once fantasised about something similar when his heart had still been pure and he had been Aulë’s disciple in Valinor. In what a twisted way his dream turned out to be real. He pitied you at that moment.

He crouched down next to you and caressed your cheek gently before leaning in to place a kiss on the top of your head.

“I wish to perfect myself as much as it is allowed for me to but I will never be your equal, which I am aware of and it will forever be my biggest regret,” he confessed. “If only I could… All I want is to be worthy of you like he was. My master.”

You flinched at the mention of your husband. Melkor was immortal like you were, therefore he was not dead but locked away instead. You were still his wife because of that and you would forever remain in the eyes of many but at that moment, you would not mind to break the tradition and become Mairon’s bride. Even if it would be considered a great humiliation.

“I wonder what he thinks of us,” you mumbled out. “But I care not,” you looked up to meet Mairon’s concerned gaze.

“Even if he comes back by any chance, I shall not allow him to hurt you or take you away from me. No matter what it takes,” he promised with all seriousness and you batted your eyelashes to dry out your fresh tears.

“If he comes back by any chance,” you chuckled sadly, “it will be me having to protect you from his wrath, my sweet Mairon,” you caressed his cheek and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips.

You would never leave his side and you would always watch over him, take care of him and nurse him back to health whenever he would need it again.

He was your lesson in humility but you were a very eager student.

You were sitting by the fire amongst all those poor villagers who had lost their homes. Mairon had his arm wrapped around you as you clinged to his chest as if you were cold, pretending to shiver slightly. The old man named Diarmid who had taken you both alongside with him squinted his eyes at the two of you and decided to join you by sitting next to you after a while of hesitation.

You moved slightly to make more space for him and he smiled.

“Halbrand and Brynn,” he addressed you by your new and fake human names. “How much have you lost there if I might ask?” He asked but there was no rudeness about it, only genuine concern.

“Everything,” you answered, refusing to look him in the eye as you watched the flames dance. It was the very element you had full control of but now you just allowed it to burn naturally as you smiled at the memory of casting the very first fire that had ever existed in Arda. Mairon leaned in to kiss your temple and he was the one to look at the old man.

“This might be a second chance for us,” he said. “I like to think of it as such. We are free now from the burdens of the past. As if we were new people.”

“And that is how you should be perceiving it,” Diarmid pointed out as he nodded. You smirked a little because he was so naive and so oblivious to your Mairon’s malice.

“My husband’s always been the more positive one,” you mumbled out. “I like to perceive things the way they are,” you added.

“That is certainly a useful quality,” the old man smiled at you. “But sometimes we all need a little hope and a little white lie here and there. Such wisdom comes with age that the true purpose of the fairytales is not to entertain the children but to bring hope to grown men and women for the reality of life can get too gloomy to bear faith for a better tomorrow. Yet, we must keep going. No matter what.”

You looked up at that moment and locked your gaze with his as your heart skipped a beat. The man kept smiling at you softly and you would never tell Mairon about it but he was no ordinary human. He was a spirit sent to you – he was one of the Maiar with a task given to him from the Valar.

They knew about you and Mairon and they wished for you both to redeem yourselves and choose goodness this time. Indeed, it made your heart clench deep inside of your chest as you remembered them all, especially your sister – the one you had betrayed the most.

But it was too late for you and too late for Mairon. Melkor’s corruption and darkness were reaching deeper within your souls than the Valar’s lightness ever would. You two were the most exquisite subjects of the Dark Lord’s torment.

Instead of fixing your malice with his love, like Marion had once dreamed of, you both descended into the paths of sin and destruction disguised as the act of healing. Together, at least.

MASTERLIST

#sauron x reader #annatar x reader #halbrand x reader #lilysfiction

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 5 months ago

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Words: 3,844 Pairing: Negan x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, after the war, Negan is imprisoned Warnings: language, mild gore (killing walkers) Summary: In lieu of Negan's failing mental health, Michonne looks for options and Y/N steps up to do her share. A/N: This is part 1 of a miniseries (maybe 3?? parts) for Negan that I've been working on! I started it as a one shot, but... you know me lol so here we are! Part 2 will be released next week on Wicked Wednesday! Happy reading! “I’m afraid we’ve got a problem,” Michonne said seriously. You exchanged a glance with Daryl.

“What kind of problem? Like, Annoying Steve is being annoying or a new horror is coming to destroy everything we have and love?” you asked wryly.

Daryl let out an appreciative dry laugh but Michonne remained serious. “Somewhere in the middle, I think,” she said. “It’s about Negan.”

Daryl swore and paced a tight circle. “Course it is. Somehow, it’s still always ‘bout him, ain’t it?” he growled.

Michonne forged ahead. “Gabriel is—fed up with him. There’s no other way to say it. He’s not trying to do anymore counseling and he needs a break. I don’t blame him. He’s taken on everything with Negan since—since Rick—”

You frowned, your brow furrowing as grief roared upwards in all of you. “What exactly is the problem?”

“His mental state is really deteriorating,” Michonne explained. “Being in there by himself all the time, just the odd hour or two outside, no one talking to him—”

“Why should we give a shit?” Daryl asked in a low, dangerous voice. “Ain’t the whole damn point of him bein’ in there so he has to suffer for what he did for the rest of his life? His mental state… Fuck. They fed me one fuckin’ dog food sandwich a day after they shoved me into a fucking closet naked. They —”

You reached over and put your hand on Daryl’s arm before he got further charged up. He stopped abruptly and drew in a long breath.

“I know. I know what he did, but no,” Michonne said. “The point isn’t for him to just suffer. If we do that, we become no better than him.”

Daryl glanced at you and let out an exasperated exhale. “Hell, ya already know what I think about it,” Daryl said firmly. “He shouldn’t even be breathin’ still. ‘M the wrong damn person to ask ‘bout this.”

Michonne sighed and leaned forward on her hands. “I’m just trying to honor Carl and—”

“We know,” you interrupted her quickly. You paused thoughtfully. “I—I can take this on. I’ve dealt with him the least so far out of the three of us. Probably makes it my turn.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “What’re ya gonna do? Rub his back while he cries? Hold his fuckin’ hand? I mean, how do we help somebody like him.”

Michonne shrugged. “A little more conversation to start, I think. He said being alone and the boredom is eating him alive. Maybe we come up with some more things for him to do outside the cell.”

You nodded. “I’ll brainstorm,” you said.

Daryl looked concerned, his eyes flickering over you. “Yer gonna have to be careful. He’s a manipulative asshole. And I dun trust a damn thing ‘bout him. If he can get out, he will. Don’t matter what he’d have to do.”

“I’ll be careful. I’m not an amateur, Daryl,” you said, shooting him a smile.

He nodded, ducking his head. “I know. I just gotta say it.”

“Are you sure?” Michonne asked. “It doesn’t have to be one of us. I can talk to some other people.”

“I’ve got it. I’ll start today. I’ll take him his meals and check on him, make sure he gets some time outside the cell. I’ll take care of it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Flat on his back, Negan heard the door open and shut but he barely moved. His eyes stayed closed and he heaved a heavy sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in some anticipation of annoyance. “Gabey-baby, I am not in the fucking mood for your guidance counselor horseshit today, so why don’t you just turn that tight little toosh around, waltz back out, and leave me the fuck alone…” he said.

“Wow. That was—gross…” you said.

Now, his eyes opened. This was something different. You were different. He swung his legs down and sat on the edge of his cot, his hazel eyes finding you and looking you over. “God Bless America, a change in the fucking monotony,” he said. “Is Gabe still mad at me?”

You approached his cell, tray in hand and nodded. “Yep. In fact, so pissed that he’s officially on vacation from you.”

“Gotta envy that,” Negan quipped. “How do I sign up for one of those?”

“A vacation from yourself?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that’s in the cards.”

“Damn. It was worth asking.” He seemed to be looking you over again and you rolled your eyes.

“My eyes are up here, Negan,” you joked.

His lips curled into a half-smile. “Sorry. But Gabe isn’t exactly my type and I don’t get much chance to look at anything so—”

“Just stop right there, okay?” you interrupted him. You slid his tray through the slot at the bottom of the door and straightened back up.

But Negan wasn’t interested in his breakfast. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” he asked.

“You know perfectly well what my name is, Negan,” you countered.

He cocked his head slightly. “You’re right about that,” he admitted. “So, what’s on the agenda?” he asked, finally moving to grab his tray. He returned to his cot and set it on the small side table.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Gabe was always counseling me. Trying to rehabilitate me. Were you a therapist or something in the old world?” He grabbed the small apple and shined it on his shirt before taking a bite.

“No. But we’re perfectly aware that your mental health has taken a nosedive recently,” you said.

Negan let out a low laugh. “And you give a shit?” he asked skeptically. “I nearly fucking destroyed all of you and you’re worried about my mental health?”

You sighed and nodded once, stiffly. “We’re not the same as you, Negan. We’re trying to do better. And Michonne wants to honor Carl’s vision.” You watched as Negan’s face fell. The look in his eyes grew distant and his shoulders slumped slightly.

“Yeah… He was a helluva kid,” Negan said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you replied, taking a seat in the stiff wooden chair set outside his cell. “I watched him grow up from a scared little kid and survive everything this world threw his way. You have no idea what kind of loss that was.”

Negan was looking at you thoughtfully and you were surprised when he didn’t reply, only nodded, and then returned to his apple.

“The agenda is for me to—” you hesitated for a moment. What the hell was the agenda? “For me to help you how I can. I know you’re alone a lot and you probably need some company, a change of scenery every now and then, mental stimulation…”

Negan laughed and smirked. “That’s not the only kind of stimulation I need,” he said.

You glared at him. “Jesus, Negan…” you murmured, rolling your eyes.

“It’s the truth,” he laughed.

“Yeah, well, I’m not helping you with that. I guess you’ll just have to try your hardest to think back to one of your past six wives,” you sassed.

The grin stayed on his face. “Five,” he corrected you. Then, the smile faded. “But, uh, only the first really counted.” Negan’s head dropped and you watched him curiously.

He was struggling. You’d never sensed so much truth or vulnerability in a single thing that had left his lips.

“I see,” you said.

For some reason, this made him laugh again. “You know, Gabe used to say that all the time. It’s some of that non-value, non-judgement counselor language.”

You stood up suddenly and sighed. “Finish your breakfast. I’m gonna go do a few things and then I’ll be back. We’re gonna get you out of that cell for a while today.” You fixed a stern and perceptive look on him. “If you think you can behave.”

Negan looked curious. “For you? I might.”

You cocked your head at him and looked unamused. “You will, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Negan laughed again and turned back to his food. “Got it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Why don’t I come with ya?” Daryl asked, watching as you slipped the pistol into your holster.

You looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “You think I can’t handle this?” you asked.

“Not that ya can’t handle it. It’s just—it’s Negan. We all know what he’s fuckin’ capable of,” Daryl said, walking behind you out the front door and across the steps.

“You’re conflating past Negan with Negan now. I just talked to him, and I’m telling you—it’s like he’s been robbed of all his menace and power. He’s been sitting in that cell a long time, Daryl. I don’t think he’s the same and I don’t think he’s going to—to suddenly hit me over the head with a rock or something,” you said.

“But outside the walls? Already? Why dun ya just—just start with somethin’ in here first and see how it goes? That way there are other people around and I can stop by when I can and check in.”

You read the intense concern on Daryl’s face and then nodded. “Alright. We’ll stay in the walls today. But I think part of the problem with him is that he hasn’t seen a single different thing outside in too long. He’s going a little stir crazy in there and I can’t entirely blame him.”

“Yeah, well, he fuckin’ deserves it,” Daryl growled.

“He does. But Michonne is right… we should be trying to be better. Otherwise, we should have just killed him.” You paused, trying to come up with something for him to do that would give him a little exercise and change of pace. “I’ll have him help me clear out that area for the new garden plots. There are some plants to harvest over there anyway before we clear it. It’ll teach him something too.`”

Daryl nodded. “ ‘Kay. I’ll stop by and check in,” he drawled. “Just be careful. Dun let yer guard down.”

“You know I never do.” You turned and headed back toward Negan’s cell.

Negan rose from his seat on his cot, the tray from breakfast sitting empty beside him on the small side table. He watched as you withdrew a ring of keys from your back pocket and fiddled with them a moment as you stood in front of the cell door, eyeing the lock. Was this a good idea?

Negan took a few cautious steps toward you, watching your face intensely. “Am I… getting out on good behavior, warden?” he quipped, flashing you a half-smile. It seemed to draw you back out from your reverie.

“Temporarily,” you replied, finally fitting the key into the lock and turning it. The metallic clunk was striking. “If you can handle it…” you added.

The pistol on your hip wasn’t lost on Negan. He nodded. “I think so,” he said. “What’re we doing? Hard labor?”

“Not so hard,” you said. “But I would appreciate your help with something.”

Negan froze just after stepping out of the cell and fixed a queer look on you. “Appreciate?” he repeated.

You nodded. “Mhm…”

His eyebrows lifted. “You better be careful with the way you’re talkin’ to me, Y/N. I might just fall in love with you,” he chuckled. “I haven’t felt appreciated in… oh, I don’t know—how long have I been in here?” he asked, brushing a hand back through his hair.

“Didn’t Gabriel speak nicely to you?” you asked, shutting the cell door behind him, giving him a questioning glance.

“Well, sure. Or maybe not nicely. He was at least neutral,” Negan said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I think I ruined that though.”

You shook your head and sighed. “Yeah, he’s not pleased with you, Negan,” you agreed. “Look, this is just a test run. We’re staying in Alexandria today, but eventually… I’d like to get you outside of the walls on occasion.” Negan looked shocked. “Obviously, that’s going to take trust,” you emphasized. “But I think it would do you good.” You hesitated, wondering if you should admit this to him, but you decided it would be good for him to hear it. “You’re not the same as you were when you were locked in here. And—I intend on finding out if you can really be rehabilitated. Not that I’m ever going to forget what you’ve done… but there’s got to be more than this,” you said, gesturing to the cell behind him, “in your future. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“You’ve just explained exactly what has me so depressed,” Negan admitted. “I’ve spent most of the last however many fucking years wishing Rick had just killed me.”

Those words hung in the air like a toxic cloud. You gulped and couldn’t help feeling an ache of compassion at his words. Compassion for Negan. What a peculiar thought… You tilted your head toward the door. “Come on. Follow me and stay close. And let me be perfectly clear; I will shoot you if you try to pull any bullshit,” you emphasized.

He nodded, his expression surprisingly serious. “Got it.”

You led him out into the summer sunshine and walked through Alexandria until you reached the overgrown section near the wall that you planned to tackle for the day. The two of you had gotten plenty of stares as you moved down the street, but you noticed that Negan had mostly kept his head down. His shoulders were somewhat slumped and he made no witty comments on the walk, though you caught him closing his eyes to enjoy the breeze or staring up at the blue expanse of sky overhead multiple times.

He stopped beside you, his hands in his pockets, as you stared at the tall grass and brambles ahead and sighed.

“What’re we doin’, boss?” he asked.

“We’re going to start clearing this area out so eventually we can put in some new garden plots. But there’s a little more to it. We used to have some medicinal plants in here before it got overgrown. I’m hoping to find them and save them for transplanting, so we can’t just start ripping everything out.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what’s medicinal and what’s not?” he asked.

“I’m gonna teach you,” you said confidently.

Negan laughed a little at the assertion. “Look, doll… I was a gym teacher in the old world. ‘Not Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,’” he said.

Your eyebrows lifted. “Wow. That was a deep bench reference,” you said.

He smirked at you. “I was pretty proud of it myself,” he said.

You couldn’t help a dry laugh and small shake of your head. “It’s not that hard. We’ll work together to start and I’ll show you how to identify them. The grasses can all be pulled, but we’ll identify the broadleaf plants and get them ready for transplanting if they’re something we can use.”

Negan looked skeptical but shrugged. “Well, you’re the boss. Not like I’ve got a full schedule,” he said.

“Exactly,” you agreed. There was a reason you weren’t just having him pull all the grass and doing the rest yourself. Negan was smart and not having any mental stimulation was probably contributing a lot to his mental health issues. If you gave him a task that was a little physical and a little mental, you were hoping it’d give him a sense of purpose and productivity.

You got started right away, mainly just pulling the grasses and clearing a large area that remained dotted with forbs. It was summer and the respiration of the plants you were sitting in made the air humid. It wasn’t long before you were wiping at sweat along your hairline and stopping to push wet strands back out of your face. For a while, you worked in silence beside Negan, only speaking to instruct him, but he finally tried to start some conversation on his own.

“So, what the hell did you do in the old world anyway? Were you some kind of plant guru?” he asked, pausing to pull off his gloves for a moment and get a drink from the canteen you’d provided for him.

You paused, standing up to look down at him where he knelt in the grass. He was sweaty too, like you were, and his dark blue shirt was clinging to his back in the heat. “I don’t think I owe you my backstory, Negan,” you said. Your tone wasn’t unkind, but it was a little stern.

“Aw, come on. This is part of that trust-building thing you mentioned earlier,” he said, taking another drink. “I’m just trying to figure you out a little bit,” he said.

You crossed your arms and surveyed him. “So, you can better manipulate me when it’s beneficial to you?” you asked.

“What? No,” he said with surprise, and you almost believed him. “I mean—I currently have no concrete plans to manipulate you…” he admitted, a small bit of jest in his voice. “I’m bored all the time in that fuckin’ cell. I could sure use the conversation. Isn’t that what this is about? My ‘mental health’,” he quoted, shooting an expectant look at you.

You sighed. “What do you wanna know?”

Negan licked his lips and then smiled, thinking about what he wanted to ask, but before he could say a word, bootsteps behind the two of you caused you both to look over to see Daryl standing there.

You went to greet him, pulling off your gloves.

“How’s it goin’?” he asked in an undertone, glancing past you to shoot a glare at Negan.

You shrugged. “Fine. It’s been completely fine so far.”

Daryl nodded, but still looked suspicious. “He ain’t tried anythin’?”

You shook your head, dusting the soil from your gloves. “Nope. We’re just working.”

Daryl nodded, still clearly apprehensive. “Well, s’almost noon. Get him back to his cell by 1 and I’ll bring his meal down,” he drawled.

“I can take care of that,” you offered.

“S’fine. I wanna have a word with him anyway.” He put his hand on your shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze, giving you a small smile. “Yer doin’ enough for him. Be careful.”

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding. “See you later.”

When you turned around, you noticed Negan had been watching the interaction carefully. There was a thoughtful look on his face, but when you simply returned and got back to work, he joined you again in silence. You continued on for another hour or so, managing to clear quite a wide area by the time you needed to get Negan back to his cell for a late lunch. You walked beside him, both of you now dirty and plenty sweaty, and your hand strayed to the handle of your pistol again absently.

Negan noticed and broke the silence that had stretched for what felt like a long time. “You’re a fuckin’ great shot with that thing,” he said, nodding toward the gun.

“What?” you asked, turning to look at him, puzzled.

“I said, ‘you’re a great shot’,” he repeated. You still looked confused. “I noticed… during the war,” he said. “I mean—I noticed you but also your aim.” You stared at him, your brow furrowed. “You almost blew Simon’s fuckin’ head off,” he said with a laugh. “If he hadn’t flinched at the last second…” Negan let out a low whistle.

“How’d you know that was me?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I noticed you.”

You looked… unsettled? Uneasy? Negan couldn’t quite define it, but there was some sort of tension in the air as you walked him back the rest of the way and finally locked him inside his cell again.

He gripped onto the bars and watched you turn away before he managed to get your name out. You turned toward him again, the high arch of your brow inquiring. “Thanks,” he said. “For today. It was the best fuckin’ day I’ve had in a while,” he admitted.

You gave him a baffled look. “I made you work outside in the sun all morning,” you laughed.

“Yeah… but I wasn’t alone. And I’ve had waaaaay worse company. Just—even if you decide you can’t do more than today, I want you to know that it mattered to me. Thanks.”

That look was on your face again, some mix of surprise and bewilderment. Finally, you sighed. “Daryl’s gonna bring you lunch. I’ll see you later, okay, Negan?”

He nodded, still gripping onto the cold, iron bars of his cell, and watched you walk out.

A short time later, Negan had washed his hands and splashed cool water from his basin over his face, dabbing at it with his small scratchy towel, when he heard the door open again. He looked up to see Daryl coming in with a tray of food and a scowl. He set it down by the slot at the bottom of the cell door and pushed it roughly through with the toe of his boot, almost spilling the water cup. Daryl’s expression didn’t change. It was stony and guarded.

Negan eyed him and then wandered over to grab the tray. He did feel hungry for once, something that had been rare for quite some time. When he straightened up, Daryl’s blue eyes were narrow and stinging.

Negan grabbed the apple off his tray and took a big bite. It was sweet and crunchy, satisfying and refreshing after being in the sun all morning. “Something on your mind, Daryl?” Negan asked, a faint smile on his lips.

Daryl stepped closer, right up to the bars. “Yeah. One thing. If ya fuck up, if ya try to hurt Y/N, if ya pull anythin’ I dun like, I don’t give a shit what Michonne or anybody else is tryin’ to do—I don’t give a shit about your rehab, I’ll put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Got it?”

That smile was still on Negan’s face, annoying the shit out of Daryl.

“I mean it, Negan. Ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said, taking another bite.

“Good,” he growled, and the archer left.

#negan smith x reader #negan fanfiction #negan series #negan smith #negan imagines #negan drabbles #wicked wednesday #negan smith x you #negan x y/n #negan fics #the walking dead #negan twd

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jiminjamms · 6 months ago

Text

sex therapy :: 30. breaking news

chapter tags/warnings: manipulative! naoya. physical aggression. verbal abuse (not to reader). infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.4k

notes: thank you again for your patience with the chapter! life update: i resigned from my company (on good terms, even though the work had sucked my mental and physical health), and i am soon doing a trip to japan and southeast asia as part of my recovery. still, i will be actively writing and responding since this community is so important to me! also, has anyone been keeping up with jujutsu kaisen's manga?! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

Life without a sugar daddy was rough.

As Toji Fushiguro's ex-wife and Naoya Zenin's ex-mistress, Mari faced this harsh reality since no one threw their money in her direction anymore. She slept little this past week, overwhelmed by financial stressors. While she still subsisted on the younger executive's credit card (with his fortune, Naoya hardly noticed the charges on his bill), she realized that she actually had to work for an income.

Such was the case as Mari walked home one evening after interviewing for jobs, her body and mind exhausted from fielding mundane questions about her previous professional experiences (which she had little of).

Upon unlocking her apartment door, she was immediately greeted by the sight of her illuminated living room.

That struck her as odd.

She always switched the lights off before she left.

However, when she spotted a familiar face down the hall, she found the answer.

"Tsumiki." Mari dropped her purse by the door. "What are you doing here?”

The woman had not seen her one and only blood-related child in months. While she knew that her daughter—who was, without doubt, a fantastically accomplished and intelligent young lady—just completed her second year at Oxford University, she thought the girl had chosen to remain in England for her summer break. Didn't Toji mention that she did not want to return to Tokyo?

Not that Mari complained. She was just...confused.

Admittedly, Mari should know the answer to her question, but she had been too ‘occupied’ to contact Tsumiki as much as a good mother should. As a result, Mari found herself in the dark about the girl's life in the United Kingdom, her plans for the university holiday, and her recent classes in…what was her field of study again?

Surely, Toji and his twerp son Megumi would know all the answers since Tsumiki had always been closer to her Fushiguro stepfamily. Quite a shame, since Mari would have considered her daughter as the most perfect angel otherwise.

She toed her shoes off.

“When did you arrive in Tokyo?” Mari continued with a plastered smile and approached the girl sitting with crossed arms in the living room.

Genetics ran deep between mother and daughter. Uninformed observers might even mistake the pair as sisters, the physical resemblance uncanny in how Tsumiki presented a more youthful version of the older woman by sharing the same warm chocolate-colored eyes, long dark hair, and flawless porcelain skin.

Yet, physical similarities meant nothing when Mari could not fully decipher her own flesh and blood.

“I came back to Japan earlier this week,” Tsumiki responded a terse edge in her tone.

“But I haven’t seen you until now.”

“Because I’ve been staying with Dad.”

“Oh.” So, she meant with Toji. “You mean your stepdad.”

“No,” she corrected sternly. “He's my dad.”

Theoretically, Mari could go into a whole tangent on how Tsumiki’s actual father was some middle-class nobody whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to since her first divorce (and that was many years ago). Or how the Fushiguros technically were Tsumiki’s ex-stepfamily since Mari had divorced her second husband Toji earlier this year.

But she spared her daughter from the reminders.

“Well, I’m glad to see you back, honey.” With a bottle of unfinished cabernet sauvignon in the fridge, Mari meandered to the kitchen to pour herself a full glass. She returned to living room and joined her daughter on the sofa. “How have you been? I’m guessing England has been treating you well? I have never been, so I wouldn’t know. Heard that the fish and chips are good there."

No response.

Am I being ignored? Mari commented inwardly and swirled the red wine in her chalice.

She took her first sip amid the long and awkward pause before switching the topic to encourage conversation. "Anyway, whenever you would like, you’re always welcome to stay a few nights here. Wouldn't hurt to spend some more time with your mother."

Only for Tsumiki to quip, “We’ve talked about this before. I don’t want to live with you.”

Now, this—Mari believed—was certainly uncalled for. "Watch your tone with me, young lady."

"For what? I am not here because I miss you," her daughter resumed. "If I had a better option, I would not bring myself to show up here and be in front of you."

The older woman placed her glass down and tried to appear calm. Hearing Tsumiki speak with such contempt twisted a deep knife into Mari's heart. Once upon a time, her daughter had been the sweetest girl—warm, full of life, and eager to express her innocent thoughts with anyone she encountered. Now, however, that same person had been tainted into someone cold, guarded, and withdrawn, demonstrated by her disrespect to the very woman who had given her life.

"That is no manner to talk to your mother," Mari cautioned.

"Well, maybe because I have my reasons."

"Which are?"

"Do you want to know why I did not bother to text or call you these past several months?" and Tsumiki did not wait for an answer before she angrily added, "Because I am so upset that you filed a divorce with Dad!"

While Mari had hoped to not bring up the topic before, she had no choice but to do so now.

"That big, burly, bulky man is not your father," she snapped. "He and his emo Harvard-bound son are not your family! In the eyes of the law, there is no longer any relation between you and them. But, I am your mother. I had given you life, and this is what you think of me?"

"Because I love them!" Tsumiki opposed through a hardened glare. "Dad and Megumi treat me more like their blood-related family than you do!”

Mari could not believe the preposterous words her daughter spewed. She always presumed that the Fushiguros had been corrupting her child, and to see her suspicions confirmed had Mari standing up promptly from the couch.

"How dare you say after all I have done for you, Tsumiki?" Mari interrogated angrily. "Did you think that I left your biological father and then divorced your stepfather for what...for fun?! These choices were difficult for me, too! But I made those judgments because I wanted to give you a better life in which we didn't have to worry about where our next meal, our next piece of clothing, or our next rent payment would come from! Your biological father is a no-name nothing. He could’ve never supported the lavish lifestyle you had experienced during your adolescent years. In fact, if I hadn’t married Toji Fushiguro, you probably wouldn't be studying at the University of Oxford right now! I, alone, could never have afforded all your years of expensive tutors or private school tuition. Please, think before you speak. I know I did not raise an ungrateful brat.”

Tsumiki furrowed her brows from the comments.

“You're the ungrateful one, Mom!” she insisted, and the said woman visibly reeled back when the girl continued to seethe with antipathy. “All the money that you had spent while married to Dad, he never asked for a single cent back. Never. In fact, he still pays for my university. In his eyes and mine, I’m as good as any blood-related child to him. He hadn't asked you to chip in because he knows you wouldn't have the money to. Divorcing the man you've been leeching off of isn't a sign of appreciation, Mom."

To hear her child defend another family, Mari wasn’t sure if she was going to laugh or cry at how ridiculous this scene was, the only thing she could process being the pain and betrayal that slammed her with one bitter blow.

"Well, did you want to become a laughingstock?" the woman rationalized. "Given our ties to the Zenin name when Toji left the company, those nasty journalists would've clung onto any scrap to label you a buffoon. You know what those tabloid writers are like! I had the foresight to divorce that man. I did not want the disgrace if we remained attached to the Fushiguros."

After that response, Tsumiki turned quiet with one sharp exhale as her eyes snapped shut, and Mari, whose entire body had undulated from heavy and irate breaths, thought that finally—finally—she had won this godforsaken argument.

Until she heard the younger girl speak again.

"Yet, you have humiliated me more than anyone," and noticing how her mother quirked a brow, Tsumiki went on. "Who are you really trying to protect, Mom? Are you truly making these decisions for my benefit? Or is it...for yourself?"

Despite hiding a gulp, the older woman noticed her heart race. "What do you mean?"

"How can you explain this?"

As though that was her cue, Tsumiki reached for her phone. She tapped onto the front page of the Yomiuri Shimbun, the most highly circulated newspaper in Japan. Before Mari could read the bold title labeled as 'Breaking News,' Tsumiki provided her with a verbal summary:

"The world knows you're a homewrecker, Mom."

Naoya found no surprise when Naobito Zenin burst into his executive suite as an angry bull would charge toward a provoking cape.

Plenty of times, his father barged into his private office completely unannounced, slamming the door open with enough force to rattle the wooden bookshelves behind him. Usually, the dramatic entrance would be followed by a slew of harsh admonitions, and this encounter—Naoya could tell—would be no different.

The astringency cast on his father's countenance gave the executive no other choice than to rise from his seat, his office chair sliding back so he could pose tall and confident as the heir to Japan's largest conglomerate should be.

"Father," he greeted, curt.

Taking hurried steps around his mahogany desk, Naoya aimed to meet the older man halfway until he instead came into contact with one harsh blow that sent his face flogging to the side.

Naoya froze, his gaze lowered.

Instinctively, he reached for his throbbing cheek with one hand as the other wiped briefly over his busted upper lip. To have his father approach him physically like this didn't even register as a surprise. Despite his title as the Zenin CEO, Naoya continued to be scolded, lectured, and outright ignored because, in his father's words, he 'never seemed to get anything right.'

Even now, the older man found no hesitation in cursing out his only child.

"You fucking son of a whore! Want to explain why your affair with Toji's ex-wife is all over Japanese media?!"

Slowly, Naoya lifted his eyes from the floor. He had suspected that this would be the topic of discussion. In the last hour, Naoya saw his name plastered over tabloid pages, news websites, and social media feeds as an anonymous whistleblower tipped publishers in regards to his scandalous affair with Mari—and the millions Naoya spent to hide it. Evidence ranging from supposedly long-gone paparazzi photos to screenshots of money transfers circulated quickly with the internet.

Naturally, Naoya had seen the headlines too...

'Zenin Corporation CEO Exposed for Concealing Affair with Predecessor's Ex-Wife' 'Everything to Know About the Zenin Household's Uncovered Drama in Family, Business, and Love' 'Billionaire Naoya Zenin Entangled in Cheating Scandal, Accused of Bribing Press to Silence Coverage'

...and the comments:

'That’s why you can’t trust rich people. They never have any shame.' 'His wife and company deserve better.' 'Disappointed that this is the scumbag leading our country's largest company.' 'The Board should fire him.’

Now, that last comment struck a very particular chord, especially since the Chairman of that very Board stood before him.

Naoya clenched his hands, yet he stood mute. With every wrong move certain to cost him far too much in return, he was completely powerless in front of the family patriarch and, as a result, his first logical reaction was to defend himself.

"I do not have the evidence yet, but I am certain Toji had planned this, Father. Him, and also Sukuna, Geto, and Choso. All four leaked these details because they didn’t want to see your son succeed. I will resolve this. I am going to call Toji immediately and—“

"You're right," Naobito interrupted coldly. "If Toji had still been CEO today, he would've made sure that none of this bullshit would’ve happened.”

Naoya widened his eyes in bewilderment, not anticipating his father to twist his logic like that. He already received a literal slap across his face, but to realize that Naobito still compared him to his older cousin all these months later drove him insane!

"No, Father. What I meant was—"

"Oh, there is no need to correct me. I know what you meant," Naobito tested in a low voice. "What I gathered from this conversation is that I have given you a million chances in life, and you know what? You blew every single one of them. You're an asshole, you're a cheater, and you're a complete humiliation. I can always count on you to paint me as a failed father."

Outrageous.

With the bitter staring contest between father and son, the latter boiled internally listening to the insults from the man who sired him. For the ruthless Naobito Zenin, Naoya meant no value as an heir without the ability to achieve his high standards.

"Some twisted brain you have for sleeping with your cousin's ex-spouse,” Naobito then chided, yet amusement remained absent in his tone. “Was that the low-class tramp I saw in the photos with you on the private jet the other day?"

The blonde kept his mouth shut.

But his father wanted an answer. "Well?!"

Suck it in, Naoya. That's all you can do now. "Yes."

What a sight, to see how someone blazing as a furious flame then erupt into a violent volcano. Naobito grabbed his son's collar, pulling him forward and shoving him against the wall. His fists shook as he sought the other's gaze.

"You're fucking married, you realize that?!" he snarled.

"I do! Which is why I have cut Mari from my life! I don't talk to that woman anymore."

Unimpressed, Naobito tugged forcefully at Naoya's shirt again. "I am truly astonished by what an idiot you are. Your answer doesn't change shit." He tightened his grip and did not care that his son wrapped both hands around his wrist to prevent himself from choking. "Let me tell you something, boy. I did everything—everything—to convince our Chief Operating Officer to let his treasured daughter marry you, you despicable bastard. He didn't want to hand the girl over because he knew—oh, that man is wise!—he knew that the union mainly served as a tactic to improve your public image and that there was little obvious benefit for his child. Power and money did not interest him when compared to his daughter, so the one promise I made is that you would love her," and he roared, "so, what the hell have you done?!"

Naoya had heard his father’s warnings countless times, yet he previously brushed each one aside with an ambivalence he now acknowledged as foolish. Unlike before, the threat to his hard-earned position suddenly became very, verypalpable. He grappled with a strange fear, unable to pinpoint what precisely unsettled him the most. The scorn from a world that no longer saw him as an honest businessman? The sneers from relatives with an undeniable reason to mock him? Or perhaps the fury from his draconian father, whose disappointment cut deeper than any public disgrace?

"I—" Naoya's choked voice resembled a croak. He could hardly breathe. "I apologize. This entire situation...this got out of my control."

Alongside his callous disregard for his son’s feelings, the Zenin patriarch even scoffed.

"This isn’t about getting out of your control, boy. This is about your complete lack of judgment. In fact, Daisuke called me when he saw the headlines, and you know what he told me?" and he had to refrain from flinging his son onto the ground before he continued, "That Y/N's been staying in her family residence again because she is going to leave you!"

Naoya held his next breath. Fuck, he knows. Naoya intended to keep his recent arguments with you a secret, hoping to resolve the situation first. However, since your father snitched...lying would be a dangerous move.

"I have not seen Y/N in a week because we've had a few fights." Naoya did not dare admit the details about how you two became arguing spectacles, first in his cousins' presence and later on at the café. "Just...marriage quarrels. We will get over—"

“She would be a moron to stay married to you,” Naobito cut off. "Y/N and your unborn child deserve more than to have a public disgrace like you in the household."

Right. Had he not been reminded, Naoya would've forgotten that he had lied to his father about your pregnancy, too. His hands grew clammy where they still seized his father’s wrist.

“There"—a cough—"there is no child,” Naoya blurted out, determining to rip all bandaids off in one go.

Naturally, his father became perplexed.

“Excuse me?” His hold loosened just enough for Naoya to gasp properly for his next breath.

“Y/N is not pregnant,” Naoya repeated, his voice hollow with resignation. “During our last family dinner, I only said that because I wanted to please you.”

The older Zenin became still, appalled by the younger one's bravery to say those words. For a moment, Naoya braced himself for another physical blow before his father released him, shoving Naoya backward such that he stumbled.

“If you weren’t so disappointing, there would be no need for you to lie to me,” Naobito pointed out coldly. "Not only to me, but also your wife, your colleagues, and your shareholders on matters about your family, your marriage, or your commitment to the company. If Toji had not brought this to the media's attention, how much longer would you have manipulated the truth for your benefit?"

There he went again.

"I don't understand," Naoya protested, unable to contain his frustration any longer. "Toji doesn't belong in this family anymore! Why do you keep talking about him? Father, you forced him to leave earlier this year, citing his threat to our family and company's reputation."

"You're the one to talk!" Naobito shot back. "At least Toji has the brain that you utterly lack." Before the younger man could react, the Chairman had already turned on his heel. "I have made my decision."

His decision?

A confused Naoya watched his father head for the exit.

"Wait, Father...!"

"Enough!" The infuriated man raised a hand right as he neared the door, a warning for him to not speak further. "Our discussion has concluded. Effective immediately, Toji Fushiguro has been re-instated as the Zenin Heir and CEO."

Instantly, Naoya slumped forward in disbelief.

Even as the older man disappeared, the room appeared to spin dangerously. Toji Fushiguro...re-instated? As the heir and CEO?

Naobito Zenin could never make up his mind, now could he? In Naoya's head, this must be some cruel joke.

Ever since he comprehended his ability to bend fate to his will, he had promised himself to fight tooth and nail to defend the (very rightful!) position that he worked hard to earn. He had disposed of his cousin through slander, he had to put up with shitty corporate politics, and, hell, he had to even marry you!

Some may label Naoya's current negative publicity as irredeemable, but he held hope the situation would normalize once the steam blew over.

With these thoughts in mind, Naoya regained his balance and rushed out as well. "Father!"

However, by the time he reached beyond the doors, Naobito Zenin was no longer there. Even his secretary could not be found as, instead, two imposing figures stood by the desk where his assistant should be. Naoya didn't recognize them. The men were tall and well-built, their muscled arms and thighs visible despite the fabric that covered their tattooed skin.

"Nice to meet you," one started after the long silence. "I am Eso and this is my younger brother Kechizu."

A stumped Naoya frowned.

"May...I help you?"

"No," the other answered nonchalantly, "because we are here to knock you out."

"Wha—"

And Naoya's vision went dark.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Note that Eso and Kechizu are Choso's younger brothers in JJK. (Both are not completely human in canonverse, but we shall suspend beliefs.) Also, I cannot explain the satisfaction as I wrote about Naoya and his mistress finally getting wrecked! Talk about justice being served! There were many ways these scenes could have played out, but I strategically chose Tsumiki and Naobito as the agents in the discussions. Freed from corporate America handcuffs, I plan to post again soon. Love you all!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzuruu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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alexa-fika · 1 month ago

Note

HIIIIIIIII

Ive been dead uh, I read abandoned treasures. If you EVER, get the chance or time to write a part too I will literally melt beneath your feet-

I LIKE to think reader might be scared of someone- xd for some odd factor. I think a interaction like that might be a saucey base Xd

XOXO - FROM THE DEEPTS OF HELL!!

Sick Treasure ( Thatch x child!reader x Marco)

A/N LEEE NO IT’S ME WHO IS BACK FROM THE DEPTHS , two whole seasons later and your request has arrived! Dokucha is still a savage on this one but the character is going trough trauma soo.

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese for the enjoyment of both reader and oc character readers alike!

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics

It turns out that emotional burnout was not the only that led to Dokucha’s body giving out; the effects from the sun poisoning they had subjected themselves to had finally hit its climax, leaving the small child bedridden and with a high fever at the clinic.

“How are they?” Thatch questioned as he entered the clinic, gaining the attention of Marco, who sat at the desk looking through papers, a pair of glasses perched on his nose as he did so, watching as his brother placed a small plate of food next to the sick bay bed.

“Their fever has begun to recede-yoi, the swelling has also gone down though because they are healing, the skin has begun to peel, so we have to give them distractions from the itching so that they don’t delay the healing by tearing the skin open-yoi.” he listed, removing the glasses from his face and tossing them on his desk as he spun on his chair to face the chef.

“Hells’ bells!” Thatch yelled in surprise as Dokucha suddenly shot up from the bed. They looked around, confused, frowning as they saw the two commanders. Their little minds slowly filled in the pieces as they glanced at the IV attached to their arm, their hands inching towards the tube.

“Don’t think about it-yoi,” Marco warned as he also shot from his chair and approached the kid.

“You take those off or get out of this clinic without being cleared off, and I will make sure you have no access to your little watch post-yoi,” he warned, pointing a finger their way in a silent challenge.

“I can sue you for malpractice and kidnapping,” they snapped back, not willing to step down from the argument

“First of all, I’m not sure how someone your age even knows that-yoi,” Marco started—throwing a slight glare at Thatch as the latter let out a snicker at Dokucha’s words.

“Second, I am doing my job as a doctor and ensuring you are back to health; that includes making sure you remain here while I do, lest your sun poisoning gets even worse-yoi. I would be performing malpractice if I let you leave in the state that you are.

Third, “We’re pirates; we’re already wanted, so accusing us of anything will do you no good-yoi,” he informed her, letting a little snicker himself at the horrified look they sent his way at his final words.

“Hey, Don’t worry Kid, your safe here; I just need you to stay a little bit longer so I can be sure you won’t faint on us-yoi” he reassured with a smile as he ruffled their head, retracting it just as quickly when Dokucha swatted at him.

“Now, I’ll be at my desk looking through your labs. I’ll leave you to Thatch-yoi; I need you to eat and drink something,” he called as he walked away and took his previous position. He began browsing through a small array of papers, his glasses now back on his face.

“Howdy Sweets!” Thatch greeted, taking Marco’s previous spot. He opened a small table connected to the bed and placed the plate he had brought to the room on it.

“Seeing as you probably have nausea, our options aren’t big, but we still have to try to get somethin' in you. M’sorry, my first dish to ya is hospital food,” he told her as he offered them the dish.

“…This is hospital food?” They mumbled in awe. The dish itself was pretty, like nothing Dokucha had ever seen, with a serving of noodles on one side accompanied by what Dokucha could only guess was some type of curd that seemed to have been baked to perfection. Those were surrounded by different vegetables, from leafy greens to bright red vegetables whose names escaped the child’s mind; a vibrant yellow liquid surrounded the array of food, and the smell was beyond anything they had smelt.”

“Yeah?” Thatch tentatively answered, confused about the reaction of the child, worried that it perhaps was not to their liking

“B-But this is…

“M’sorry if ya don’t like it sweets, I would still like for you t-

“The yummiest food I’ve seen…”

-eat some so ya ca- hah?” Thatch shared a glance with Marco, who by now had lowered the papers and watching the interaction a similar frown on his face.

It was true that Thatch’s skills were well above those of other pirates, not only in cooking ability in general but also in making food an essential part of treatment; but for a simple broth, a food simply meant to help the sick be nursed to health, to be called the best food they had, well, that certainly raised some alarms in both their heads, though they chose not to act on them.

“Well, Marco thinks you’ll be fit as a fiddle come tomorrow, so I’m sure I can get you somethin’ even betta.”

“No, I won’t need it. Papa and Mama will be back by then, so I don’t need your food.” Dokucha called as they seemingly snapped out of the reverie they had entered at the sight of Thatch’s food; their previous attitude to them returning

“Dokucha. They are not coming back-yoi,” Marco stated

“Yes, they are! You guys are liars! Dirty liars!” they yelled, throwing the plate onto the floor in a fit of anger, the sound of the broken ceramic echoing around the clinic.

“Thatch, could you come a bit later? Maybe bring them some dinner instead-yoi.”

Hearing this, Thatch let out an exasperated sigh, and Dokucha could have sworn they heard him muttered something along the lines of ‘not again’ in his heavy accent before he nodded his head and waved dismissively to the Doctor as he left.

“Dokucha, do you know how long it has been since you last saw your parents-yoi?”

“Why does that matter? It doesn’t matter how long it’s been; they are coming back,” they snarled.

“Alright, Let’s make a deal-yoi

You have around a month until you are out of the woods from this sun poisoning. If during that time you let us do what we need to get you there, I will talk to pops about returning to the island we found you in if your parents return during that time great-yoi. But if they don’t, you have to listen to us; you have to listen to what we have to say about it without giving us the cold shoulder.”

“…you won’t force me to stay?”

“No, even if your parents don’t come, you just need to listen to what we have to say about it. Afterward, you are free to go or stay-yoi”

“My parents will be there.” They stated, determined, glaring at the man

“So you agree-yoi?”

“Yes”

Our men are so equipped to deal with trauma 😷

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

@epochal-oracle

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smehur · 1 month ago

Text

HP Rec Fest 2024 Summary

This event was delightful! I didn't have a rec for every day of December, but I did for most, and a good portion of the recs were for fics that aren't on any of my previous rec lists. I wanna list them all here for ease of reference, but also because:

✨ The artwork in all the banners is my own! ✨

It's scanned watercolor or acrylic on paper, all made in the last several months, mostly while listening to podfic :D

👉The pictures link to the original rec posts. Enjoy!

Albus Potter and the Elixir of Erised by @bettsfic

After dropping out of Hogwarts, Albus moves to London and deals an addictive potion to Muggles. Now the most wanted wizard in the country, he goes into hiding at Malfoy Manor, enduring terrible withdrawal which renders him powerless in the hands of his best friend's father: Draco Malfoy, the only man willing to help him.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain by @faith2wood

It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

A Present by @faith2wood

Sometimes you just have to give yourself a present and kiss Harry Potter.

Draco in Darkness by plumeria47

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

The Sin in Your Grin (and the Shape of Your Mouth) by @xylodemon

The Order needed Sirius, but he doubted they'd mourn him very long when he finally disappeared.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

Running on Air by eleventy7

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Alphabet Soup by @phoenixortheflame

Harry Potter, investigative reporter for the Daily Prophet, leads a perfectly adequate life. When he’s not trawling back-alleys for a juicy story, he’s playing tea party with his favourite niece or eating curry with his former house-elf. Draco Malfoy, renowned chef in muggle Paris, was perfectly content living a life of obscurity. But when his mother’s health begins to fail, he must return to wizarding London and face his past. When Harry gets an odd assignment to interview the enigmatic chef of the new muggle-wizard restaurant Le Cerf, he’s reunited with his childhood bully - and is reminded just how much a person can change in ten years. Hijinks, mystery, and food-related dirty talk ensue when Harry receives an anonymous tip of a blackmarket dragon trade and enlists Draco to be his concierge into the shady underworld of the wizarding elite.

Twilight Eternal by @hsvh-hp

Wherever Draco is, the sun sits eternally on the precipice of setting. His father feeds his peacocks on the manor grounds. Harry is the only one who can communicate with Draco. A malevolent force haunts the house, nipping at Draco’s heels. Draco intended for himself to come to this place. He only wishes he could remember why.

A Doll's Tale by @faith2wood

Harry/Draco, as observed by Draco's childhood doll. Please note, this doll is very self-absorbed.

Per my last letter (I hope you choke on it) by @fluxweeed & @lastontheboat

Dear Mr Potter, The answer is, and will remain, a no. Sincerely, Draco Malfoy Accounts Manager, Phoenix Press Or: the one where Harry has writer’s block and Malfoy isn’t helping.

Turn by Saras_Girl & podfic by Queenie_Mab

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

The Boy from the Piano Shop by @soliblomst

After going blind in a reckless attempt to avenge Ginny's death, Harry battles with severe depression. One day, he stumbles upon a quaint piano restoration shop in the heart of London and meets the owner, a kindly old man, and his introverted young apprentice, whose voice sounds strangely familiar. As Harry and Draco slowly reconnect through private piano lessons, the small workshop becomes Harry's refuge, offering him a glimmer of hope in a world without eyes. (Set five years after the Battle of Hogwarts)

A Dark Place in Time by Leporella

What on earth was her son thinking, falling for Harry Potter of all people, Narcissa wonders. But after the death of her husband, she finds him useful in many, and sometimes surprising, regards.

vapour by @yiiiiiiiikes25

Draco's getting cruised. Isn't he?

Probationary Action by @toomuchplor

As part of the terms of the probationary contract, DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY shall submit for inspection his WAND on the last day of every month, such inspection to be carried out by a duly registered and fully qualified AUROR in the employ of the MINISTRY OF MAGIC, and such inspection to include a PRIORI INCANTATEM spell to ensure that no PROHIBITED MAGICS as heretofore described have been practised by the aforementioned probationer.

The Illusion that One Can Get Things Right by umbrellaless22

Blindsided by Ginny's sudden departure from his life, Harry struggles to care for his family—replete with a new baby. The situation plummets from disarray to pandemonium just as Draco Malfoy arrives to drop Scorpius off for a visit, because of course it does.

Glory by @mintawasalreadytaken

Every boy at Hogwarts knew about the hole.

A Case of You by @epitomereally

Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down. Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter.

with a fabulous Podfic by @cailynwrites

You can also see all my HP Rec Fest 2024 posts here. 👈

#harry/draco #drarry #rec list #hprecfest2024 #harry potter #myart #my post

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mavrintarou · 4 months ago

Text

[3:33 PM] Suna Rintarou [1]

OKAY. I started something. I don't know where it's going but it's going to go somewhere.

Warning: TW - death & kidney failure disease, angst, daddy Rin (literally)

Rin sits with his face buried in his hands, elbows resting on his trembling knees as he tries to process the news he just received just ten minutes ago. It was the best news he’d heard in what felt like an eternity.

A matching kidney donor has been found for his little girl, Ren.

Eight months ago, his five-year-old daughter was diagnosed with kidney failure and began treatment right away. Rin and his wife did their best to stay strong and hopeful for her, but things only seemed to get worse.

Six months ago, he lost his wife and mother-in-law in a car accident. In such a short time, life had completely turned upside down for both Rin and his daughter. With trembling hands, Rin dialed his mother’s number, and she answered on the first ring.

“Rintarou?”

“Mom,” his voice cracked, and immediately, he was bombarded with questions. “No, no—everything is still the same… but I just got good news from the hospital…” he took a deep breath. They found a donor match for Ren. We’ll be going to the hospital tomorrow to get more information.”

“Oh, that is wonderful news. Thank the Gods,” she cried.

“The donor match currently lives in the US.”

Rin’s heart collapsed, “so… what does that mean?”

“When we submit test results to find a match, we don’t limit the search to within the country – it’s worldwide. We always consider the possibility that a match could come from anywhere,” Ren’s doctor explained, reminding them when they had agreed to allow any match. He gave a half-chuckle as if the situation amused him. “This is a unique case. The donor, a female adult, just so happens to be a vascular surgeon who specializes in kidney transplant patients. And now, she is getting first-hand experience.”

“Really?” Rin gasped.

The doctor nodded, “yes, I spoke to her directly this morning and she will fly out here with the time comes, so you do not need to worry about taking Ren abroad.”

A shaky breath is expelled from his chest and he looks down at his daughter who seems to be unaware of the conversation, just watching her iPad. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“If…” Ren’s doctor hesitated before continuing, “if you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Suna, I cannot reveal certain details I can’t disclose, but when I saw the donor’s match results, I was honestly stunned.”

Rin’s head tilted as he frowned, “why do you say that?”

The doctor frowned slightly and scratched the back of his head. “I recall when we were conducting tests, your family members all agreed to come in and see if they were a match for Ren. Was that… all of the family members?”

All immediate family members were tested as soon as Rin and his wife found out they weren’t a match for their daughter. Rin’s brow furrowed. “Yes, my wife was an only child raised by her mother. Her parents divorced, and she hasn’t seen her father since she was one year old. I only have one sister and my parents. Why? Is there a problem?”

“No problem at all, the donor has matched the blood, tissue, and antibody types and is currently undergoing a health test, and as soon as they pass, we can move forward with the next steps.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?” Rin murmured as he carried her into their home. With her treatment, she is often tired and vulnerable. She would sleep at odd times throughout the day.

“Am I going to get better?”

“Yes, baby. You are,” he promised, “you’re going to get better very soon.”

Three weeks later felt long, but according to the doctor, it was an incredibly fast process.

The donor was on their way and will arrive in a few hours. They will have to conduct one final test before proceeding to the surgery.

Rin has offered to pay for their stay while they’re in the country but they have politely declined.

He was thankful for this person but understood why they would like to remain anonymous.

“Some donor wants to remain anonymous to protect their confidentiality and protect the recipient.”

For some reason, Rin felt an overwhelming, eager desire to meet this donor. His heart yearned to encounter this person.

“Go, go enjoy a night out with the twins.”

Ren hugged her teddy bear tightly, “you’ll be back later to tuck me in?”

Rin nodded, crouching down to her eye level. “Just tonight, grandma will tuck you in, is that okay?”

She nodded, “okay, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, baby, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be home later but just late after your bedtime.” He kisses her forehead, “I’m just going out with uncle Osamu and Atsumu for their birthday.”

“Okay,” she answered with a small smile, “tell them I miss them.”

Rin smiles, “I will, good night.”

“Thank the Gods my baby girl found a donor!” Atsumu slapped a hand over his heart. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

Osamu raised his glass of beer, “cheers boys, cheers to baby girl matching a donor.”

They all raised their glasses in sync. “Thank you, it’s wonderful news and everything is going well.”

“Are you going to meet the donor?” Atsumu asked.

Rin shook his head, “no, they want to remain anonymous.”

“So, that means you guys will never know this person who is giving their kidney to Ren?”

Rin nodded his head, “correct. It’s unfortunate, I really wish I could meet them to thank them but the best I can do is give them a card, maybe?”

“That’s a bummer,” Osamu muttered, “I understand where they’re coming from but it’s not like… you guys know each other, you know? What’s so bad about meeting each other.”

“I’m not sure either, but I’ll respect their wishes, it’s the least I can do after all they are doing for my baby girl,” Rin says, twisting his wedding band around his finger.

After parting ways with the twins, Rin decided to take a walk. He stuffed his hands into his jacket, the nights have become colder and colder. His wife’s favorite scarf hung loosely around his neck. It was one of the few items of hers that still had her scent and on days that he missed her more than usual, he would wear it, feeling a little closer to her.

It has been a while since he has gone out with the boys, let alone have some good beer and relax. It was much needed and he felt the buzz kick in.

It was a weekend and downtown was busy with a live crowd.

Normally he would avoid the crowd but something was pulling him towards that direction.

With a soft sigh, his feet began moving. He didn’t know where he was going, but he was going somewhere.

He needed to sober up before calling for a taxi, not wanting to return home intoxicated.

As he headed towards the busy part of town, it was like he was going through memory lane.

He is suddenly reminded of when he met his late wife Sumi seven years ago. They were set up through Osamu and his wife, Hayumi, and immediately hit it off. They married a year and a half later and welcomed their daughter shortly after.

Everything was going well, they were a happy family.

His heart nearly broke when his daughter was diagnosed with a disease that could take her away from him. His career was put on pause and he put his focus on his daughter alongside his wife.

His whole world completely shattered when he received the news his wife and mother-in-law were involved in a fatal car accident trying to make it to their daughter’s treatment.

He felt like a shell, barely living. The only thing keeping him going every day was his daughter.

A rush of school girls ran towards him, excitedly screaming as they recognized him.

“Oh my gosh! You’re Suna Rintarou!”

“Can I have your autograph!”

“Can we have a picture with you!”

Suddenly sobering up, Rin accepted the marker from one of the girls, signing his name and forcing a smile for the cameras.

“Goodness,” he murmurs, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of life knowing he was still admired and recognized in the volleyball world.

“Excuse me, did you drop this?” A hand holding Sumi’s scarf.

“Oh,” Rin said, instinctively reaching for the scarf that was no longer around his neck. As he extended his hand to grasp it, he glanced at the person offering him. “Thank… you.”

At that moment, his world froze. It had been happening a lot lately, but this time, he truly felt everything stop. Time itself seemed to stand still as he stared into the eyes of the person before him.

How?

“Sumi?”

Her brow rose, “excuse me?” She blinked and then looked at the scarf and then up at him confused.

Rin grasped her shoulders, his eyes wide. “Sumi. Sumi?”

His grip around her tightened. His eyes scan her face. The eyes, the nose, the lips… everything looked exactly like his wife.

His breath heaved heavily, cold air burning his lungs.

He searched her eyes, finding anything that would prove it was his wife.

“You…” she breathed, her breath clouded the cold night.

He was unable to read her expression. Her eyes narrowed, in the way Sumi’s would when he and Ren was playing a trick on her.

His heart ache.

His hands drop and he turns away. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he rubbed his face with his hands.

He was drunk.

He was hallucinating.

He turned around and the person was still standing there, looking at him with concern and hesitation. “Are you… okay?”

She looked so much like Sumi.

Exactly like her.

“You…” he blinked, tears blurring his vision. “You look - look so much like… my late wife.”

“I think you have the wrong person, I’m sorry.” She shoved the scarf into his arm and hurried away.

“Is something wrong?” Rin asked his daughter’s doctor who seemed to be distracted, unlike himself.

“No, Mr. Suna.”

Rin wasn’t convinced.

He had been unconvinced by anything since two nights ago when he ran into a woman who looked identical to his late wife.

Nothing made sense.

He swears by his life that he was not dreaming or hallucinating.

She looked exactly like his wife.

“It was strange,” Rin mumbled, his eyes fixed on the chipped wood of the desk. “The other night… I ran into a woman…” he trailed off, unsure of where he was going with this conversation with his daughter’s doctor. “She looked…”

“Just like your late wife.”

Rin’s eyes met the doctor’s eyes. “You’ve met her too?”

His breath caught before he softly replied, “that is your daughter’s donor.” A heavy silence settled between them. “I had a video call with her and couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought maybe… I was – seeing things? That was a similarity but then again, we were on a virtual call.” He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I met her… in person, this morning… and she shocked the living shit out of me.”

. . .

E/n: to try and combat this writing slump, I'll be posting random writings to get back so bear with me on this bandwagon.

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu suna #suna angst #suna rintarou scenario #suna x y/n #suna x reader #suna rintarou angst #suna rintarou x y/n #suna rintarou x reader

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xuchiya · 5 months ago

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"Lean on Me" || choi san || one-shot

| genre: non!idol ateez. fluff. slice of life | mentions: teasing. fainting. jewelry gift. | This is literally my high school delusions. My old school is literally an 'old school' school like no phones and computers, being in a relationship is not allowed, and big ass windows as our source of fans--- i mean we do have electric fans and ceiling fans but with the weather and a very old, close to dying, e-fans? We really have to depend on the wind from our windows. Anyways, this list is basically a true experience. My personal favorite? Song Mingi's.

It was one of those lazy afternoons nearing the end of the school year. Normally, students were allowed to skip the last few days before summer break, but ever since the head of the high school department conducted an inspection, that freedom was gone. Now, everyone had to stay and use the remaining days to complete any missing requirements.

You were among those students, just a few subjects away from being done. You had been absent the previous week due to a health check-up, and as a result, you missed a few assignments and notes. The classroom was a mess—desks were scattered or arranged in odd shapes, some forming semi-circles where students were busy compiling assignments. Others had stacked chairs into strange structures, a testament to their boredom. Most of the faculty were either preoccupied with grading or caught up in the frenzy of graduation preparations for the seniors. The classroom felt emptier than usual, with many of your classmates still absent despite the new rules, or hanging out in other classrooms.

You were sprawled out on the floor, a book in hand to pass the time. Chaewon had her head comfortably resting on your lap, while Jongho had placed his nearly empty backpack on your leg and drifted into a deep sleep. Both of them often used you as a human pillow, their steady breathing filling the quiet space around you.

There were usually four of you together, but one of your friends was currently out practicing for the opening flag ceremony at the graduation. You understood that San had to fulfill his duties as the next student council officer, so you had prepared some clean clothes and extra food for him.

As you flipped to the next chapter of your book, you barely noticed the classroom door creak open until Choi San stepped in. He was the fourth member of your small group, and the most active when it came to extracurricular activities.

You glanced up from your book and took notice of his presence. His usual lively demeanor was dimmed by exhaustion, his face flushed and his hair slightly damp from sweat. He had just returned from practicing for the graduation flag ceremony, and it was obvious how much effort he had put into it.

San's eyes scanned the room and landed on you. A slight frown creased his forehead as he saw Jongho and Chaewon monopolizing your attention. Without a second thought, he walked over, reaching down to gently but firmly pull Jongho and Chaewon away one by one.

“Ehh~ Sannie!” Chaewon whined.

“Yah, hyung!” Jongho protested, but San's determination won out, and soon enough, you were freed from their grip. You chuckled as the two of them huffed and, resigned to their fate, leaned on each other instead.

You reached into your bag and handed San the extra clothes and towel you had prepared for him earlier. He smiled at the thoughtful gesture, his heart fluttering as he thanked you softly. Turning his back to you, he removed his sweat-soaked shirt. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you quickly hid behind your book, though you couldn’t resist peeking over the top. You caught a glimpse of his muscles flexing as he slipped into the fresh shirt, your heart racing despite yourself.

When he turned back around, you were quick to pretend you were still reading. San let out a tired sigh and plopped down beside you, his usual politeness momentarily forgotten. This time, instead of asking for permission as he normally would, he simply leaned against your shoulder, too exhausted to bother with formalities. You felt the warmth of his skin against yours, and although you were used to being leaned on by your friends, something about San was different. His presence was soothing, yet his closeness made your heart flutter.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a moment, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “I’m just so tired.”

You smiled softly, shifting slightly to make him more comfortable. "It’s okay, Sannie-ah. Rest up." You gently draped the towel over his head, letting him relax further. His breathing slowed, and you could feel the tension leaving his body as he settled into a deep, peaceful rest.

As the classroom quieted around you, you realized that these moments—when the world seemed to slow down and it was just the two of you—were the ones you cherished the most.

Closing the book and placing it on your lap, you look down on San’s relaxed figure before you place your head on top of his as you slowly find yourself in a short bliss of nap.

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minimomoe · 2 months ago

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Fever n Frosting

here's a little sneak peak of something in my wips... Toji centered, ofc. fluff and whatnot

“Don’t look at it.”

“I don’t even know what I’m looking at.”

“God, it’s ugly, that’s why,” you cried out.

It was a new week, new day. You have since gone back to work in good health. Your subordinates had left a plethora of messages and emails the days you were out, wishing for a speedy recovery as you have never missed a day of work since… well ever. The day after you packed your own lunch, smiling fondly at yourself at the nikujaga in your thermal cup that Toji had cooked. You loved it so much that you tried your hand in the kitchen. Baking, to be exact. You thought that it would be easier and wanted to surprise Toji the next time you saw him. You were horribly humbled by the deceptively easy food blog.

Toji stared at the cake on the countertop, and then stared some more. It was uneven for one, the left side much lower than the right. You put icing on it before it completely cooled and the pink sugar dripped down onto the table, exposing the yellow cake that laid beneath. Toji wasn’t sure how exactly he could tell, but it looked dense.

“You don’t have to eat it—“

“I’m eating it,” Toji cut you off. You gave him a look of horror.

“I didn’t even ask you if you liked sweets! Spare me the embarrassment,” you squealed.

“Nah, you made it for me. Might as well give it a taste,” he said.

Toji ignored your pleas and rummaged through your cabinets for a plate and fork. He cut a hefty slice and held up the fork for you to taste first, which you profusely shook your head at. He then shrugged and shoved the fork in his mouth. Toji was quiet as he ate, only looking at you with little reaction. You held your breath as you waited for his verdict.

“Are you sure you were trying to make a cake?”

“Oh kill me now.” You threw your head in your hands. “Is it really that bad?”

Once again Toji held the fork up for you, gently nudging it on your lips. You opened your mouth, suddenly more embarrassed at the fact that he was feeding you than the failed baking experiment. He stared at your mouth while you stared at his face, noticing how his mouth slightly parted when he slipped the cake behind your teeth. His eyes flicked up to yours and you found it hard to chew.

“Speak, woman.”

It was a dry, crumbly mess that wasn’t even sweet. Your eyebrows then flew up in realization for the odd taste. Once again, you wished the floor would open up and swallow you.

“I forgot sugar,” you groaned. You groaned again, a long and exasperated one, resting your head on the countertop in hopes of expelling your failures. Unexpectedly, laughter fell onto your ears. You peeled off of the surface to gape at Toji and he was laughing, a genuine one, not the half chuckled he usually handed out that brought color to his face. It was a beautiful sight to bear that lifted your spirits a bit.

“It’s been a while since anybody made me something,” Toji said softly after he was done. The look on his face stirred something in you. Ruddy blush painted over his cheeks and the crows feet around his eyes deepened. “It’s not the best but trust me, I’ve eaten worse.”

“I’m not too sure if that's a compliment. It certainly doesn’t make me feel any better.”

What a lie. His words warmed your face. You shoved the wretched butterflies that wanted to dance in your stomach down by scooping icing up with your finger and eating it.

“This doesn’t taste bad.”

“Let me have some more,” Toji said, licking the remaining off of your finger. His hand wrapped around your waist and your wrist as he stood behind you, and your jaw tightened as you felt his tongue pad moved on your skin. “You’re right. I bet it’s store bought.”

“Hush you,” you nervously giggled. He remained standing behind you, his body caging you to the countertop, eating his slice over your shoulder even when you told him you wouldn’t take it personally if he heaped the whole thing in the trash. He offered you bites every so often, and at the very last bite you accepted it. It was just as tasteless as the first, but when he cupped your chin to face him so he could kiss you, it was as sweet as could be.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

#minimoe #toji fushiguro #jjk #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk toji #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji #toji x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x y/n #fushiguro x reader #soft toji #toji drabbles #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles

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likethexan · 4 months ago

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What's your opinion on Hermes in adaptations ? I personally think that, like with other gods, a lot of nuance is often lost.

He's usually just a fun speedy guy in modern vision and we don't really see his status as god of merchants, travels, rhetoric, theft or his role as a psychopomp. It's really a shame, honestly.

He's portrayed as a bit witty, but I'd love to see him more as a trickster god (like in Argos' story), a persuasive talker, a traveler who explores the world and his relationships to mortals and various gods alike.

(like his relationship to youthfulness, being the second youngest Olympian, at odds with Apollo before reaching an agreement, taking care of Pan then Dionysus, some interactions with his mom Maia or his chthonic coworkers, etc...)

Idk I wanted to talk about him a bit instead of complaining about Dionysus for the 100th time this week 🤣. Since Hermes is your favorite god, I thought it'd interest you 😉.

@superkooku thank you for this ask aaaahhhh!!!

Honestly, Hermes as a deity has so many layers of potential when it comes to story writing, and while he is a Certified Happy Go Lucky Extrovert^TM, there are so many aspects of him that aren't just the comedic messenger!!

I could make a list of all the aspects of Hermes I'd personally love to see more in modern media, so here we go:

Hermes' role as the god of thieves and trickery (his darker self, his suave nature, how he killed one of Hera's favorite servants so effortlessly and still remains in her good graces? His caduceus has two snakes- in a dual way representing his slyness along with his role as a protector)

Hermes' role as the god of trade and merchants (you telling me my boy won't be good at haggling prices and owning the market? I need some version of him where he owns the black market or some crazy stuff)

Hermes' role as a psychopomp (and by extension his relationship with his Uncle Hades. What is his relationship with the other chthonic gods? I love what Hades Supergiant did with Hermes/Charon but I long for more! Especially when he's very much there as Persephone's personal escort to and fro the Underworld. Thanatos should not get all the credit for reaping souls and guiding them home. )

Hermes and Maia (extroverted son, introverted mom, so many things we can explore here! How he felt growing up in that cave, his relationship with Arcas who his mother adopted!)

Hermes and Zeus (his aspect of being the god of hospitality!!) (Modern Media might never give us the Zeus-Hermes-Baucis-Philemon adventures but I am still for it always)

Hermes' mental health and depression (+ the bad side of his relationship with his mother and father) (more specifically Lucian Dialogues of the Gods 4, where Hermes states he is the most miserable god in all heaven, working every day and waiting upon Zeus' grander sons from mortal women. Now in my interpretation, Zeus wouldn't be that harsh to Hermes to make him almost like an indentured servant, but reading this dialogue you can really feel his exhaustion from the God of Trade and many other things. We can all relate to the feeling of being brushed off when you're feeling down, and I think this is the least likely aspect of Hermes to be explored since we will be putting him out of the "lucky, carefree" god persona that most put him in)

Hermes and Atlas (going back to Dialogue 4, Hermes mentions being the grandson of Atlas. I find it fascinating bc how does Hermes feel looking at his grandfather? Does he hate his grandfather for siding with Kronos? Does he resent his dad for creating this void for them to not have a relationship? Does he fear that if he steps out of line Zeus could do the same to him? Does he talk to Atlas forced to hold up the sky? Very compelling stuff)

Hermes and Hera (*holds them very tightly* they are the stepmother and stepson duo. Hera can be a certified Apollo-Artemis-Dionysus hater but has almost no hate for Hermes from what I know. There is no retaliation for Argos' death, and we all know Hera can hold a grudge! She milked him once in an obscure myth and that makes him her honorary son alongside Heracles, even appearing to bind Ixion alongside Ares, Hera's biological son. Hermes even makes an effort to deliver all of the invitations to her wedding to Zeus. Sure all of these can be explained by his messenger/servant role, but they seem to have an amicable and fun relationship that most media just writes them down as "Hera hates him" looking at you Blood of Zeus **EDIT: all of these are mostly headcanon-territory, so apologies for that!)

Hermes and Perseus and his role as helper of heroes (his canon bf... people out there shipping Perseus and Medusa when HERMES IS RIGHT. THERE! Perseus is called a beloved of Hermes and I'm sad that people are erasing that in their Perseus retellings. Gifts seem to be a love language for Hermes since he gives him his sandals, sword AND invisibility helm free of charge)

Hermes and Ares / Mercury and Mars (sorry I'm biased the Ares stan in me is coming out forgive me I think Hermes and Ares as a symbiotic relationship is something that can be explored more. The Jar Myth where Hermes saves Ares lets into some of the vulnerabilities Ares has, Lucian Dialogue #1 and the differences with how they view Zeus, war vs diplomacy, both being athletic gods, both being lovers of dogs, and many other things I can pitch for the secret Ares/Hermes fans out there)

Hermes and Dionysus (more modern media of Hermes taking care of his little bro-bro!! To be best buds in the future, that's just so endearing and sweet and we need more interactions between them. Their duality is similar to Ares/Hermes, with the additional madness factor. How would Hermes react to Dionysus' darkest side as his guardian and brother? Also, Hermes would definitely shake up Dionysus' parties. Would they murder together? Maybe. Definitely.)

#hermes #greek mythology #maia #zeus #ares #dionysus #perseus #hera #atlas #hades #charon #thanatos #asks #superkooku #yes i didnt include athena and peitho and his other lovers and him as a Father they're so very fascinating too #just *pinches both his cheeks* I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHH #please chat to me more about him he's my darling angel

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potato-frenzy · 4 months ago

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"You can't keep food down....... because you can feel it digesting?" Ford speaks slowly, careful whilst folding wirey limbs up off the floor of the latrine. Eternally concerned at the way Bill's joints overextend in this shape, he wonders what the rationale in giving him such a dysfunctional body was. As far as he understands, this is meant to be part of his former friend's(possibly rekindled, he's not sure) rehabilitation. Perhaps navigating a less than ideal health situation is part of that? Or it could an adjustment period?

Bill remains dead weight, letting his head loll with an uncomfortable looking arch to his neck over Ford's arm. His voice sounding appropriately strangled as he speaks from such an awkward angle. "My brain apparently can't handle the awareness of such an inefficient breakdown of fuel........."

Ford sighs gruffly as he settles Bill back into the berth the formerly multidimensional being is occupying for the interim. Even in a solidly human form, there's still something uncanny, somehow slightly inhuman about Bill. The subtle glow of his sclera in the dim light of the cabin, the reactive slits to his pupils, joints that bend too far, etc. Even as he looks at him now, the curve of Bill's spine is hunched into a shape that is nearly exaggerated with his too long legs pulled to his chin. "Humans aren't generally aware of that particular process, my would be tyrant. Besides, you've nearly passed out just from standing up twice this week. If it weren't too risky, I'd convince Stan to let us drive into town to see a doctor."

Bill makes an unhappy sound that is nearly a growl, mostly a grumble, slightly a gurgle. The low light from the lantern on the wall plays across the shaggy blonde hair that this corporeal came with as it falls into those glowing eyes. Mere firefly light colored slits in the shadows while Bill squirms. "Everything fucking sucks, Sixer ........this body is brand new and it's already falling apart......I think I'm dying........."

"You're not dying, Bill. At least not yet." Ford leans against the frame of the berth, grunting softly as his joints protest. He looks down at the miserable creature before him and in his care, ill-fittingly clothed in his own apparel. "You've only been here a few weeks and while you have lost some weight, the vomiting hasn't become life threatening. The fainting could be attributed to that anyway. I've been formulating some theories though."

"Oh joy, theories. What has my great wise one deduced from my useless human form's failure to function?" Bill's feet thump the wall as he attempts fruitlessly to stretch in the tiny berth.

Ford doesn't like the odd quality that human vocal cords bring to Bill's voice, making it sound flat and featureless. Or perhaps, he was just too used to the sound of a voice beyond human capability. The rich and layered tones and pitches that were just barely outside of his mind's ability to grasp. This voice felt so small, so digestible to mortal senses.

Another sigh, pushing his glasses aside to rub his eyes tiredly, Ford begins slowly. "At first I didn't think I could ascribe normal human body processes to you. But as time has passed, Stan pointed out to me that your body is functioning like a regular human. Albeit a regular human with health issues. Apparently he's seen it before."

Ford idly begins to pet Bill's hair, the texture something between a myriad of different textures. Impossible to place it as it seems to float from certain viewpoints. It's as fascinating as it is frustrating. Ford's caught himself reaching for it more than once in the time he's been here.

Bill never makes comment on it.

"Your immune system seems confused and your vascular system over reactive. And factoring in how unnaturally flexible you are...... you've said you're overly aware of everything happening in your body-"

"It's getting easier to ignore if that makes a difference."

"It does, thank you my m- my mortal ward. Ahem, there's a number of conditions that can cause such things to occur in a body. It could be something like Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome or Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. A proper doctor would need to run tests but it's very likely. We might also just need to keep trying to help you keep food and water down until you're used to human body processes."

Ford looks down at Bill then, seeing two faintly glowing slit pupiled eyes blinking up at him in the low light should be more disconcerting than it is. Which is to say that it is oddly comforting, knowing that Bill has been peacefully listening like he did all those years ago. The now solidly human shaped creature looking up at him, curled up in HIS berth on the Stan O'War II, wearing HIS clothes. A comfortable T-shirt with a silly cartoon on it that Soos gifted him, a grey cardigan with sleeves that keep slipping over Bill's long spidery hands and hangs down to his thighs.

The pants had to be procured for him, fished out of a donation bin on the interstate. Not quite long enough to cover Bill's boney ankles but fit comfortably around equally boney hips, it didn't help that he had no ass to speak of though. A tote with clothes collected from the neighbors had made Bill a few outfits that made him fit to be seen in polite company was stashed in a storage locker on the ship. But no matter what the day held, Bill managed to change into some of Ford's clothes when the opportunity arose.

Ford tried not to look too deeply into it but there was that niggling thought some measure of the same regard he used to hold for his multidimensional muse may still be returned. He didn't let himself linger on the possibility too much, especially with Bill in such a vulnerable state.

Besides, Bill's current form looked barely a few years older than Wendy at present. Considering anything untoward sat uncomfortably in his stomach with such youth looking up at him.

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

Excuse me while I just dump this here and run. Legit I don't even go here but this mental image possessed me and I had to write it down. I think Bill getting put in a meat suit purgatory would be made all the better by having a chronic illness come free with the body.

#gravity falls #billford #bill cipher #stanford pines

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