#you dont turn into this *gestures to all of me* by growing up normal

[milf-harrington]

*staring at the ceiling* i was a weird kid

[vixensbrainrotts]

Young and Beautiful — Hanma Shuji

Content: Imagines

Warnings: vaguely sexual tension, nothing nsfw though

Summary: you decide to take boudoir pictures, and pleasantly surprised by your (very) hot photographer.

Vixen’s two cents: hello! This started out as an imagine but i realized i dont really like writing imagines (it feels so unstructured), so have this little scenario instead. Also, whilst rereading this i realize that Shui seems a little creepy and i swear i dint want him to come off like that?! It was a hot idea in my head, idk how well that that translated, lmk about it! Remember my REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Also im still on the hunt for moots for proofreading and triangulation in case anyone is interested please contact me!!

When your auntie told you to go and take boudoir pictures, you thought she was talking crazy and waved her off with a polite smile, but she wouldn’t let up. “You’re as young and beautiful as you’ll ever be! Take them for yourself when you’re old like me! It might seem awkward but it’ll be worth it!”

If you would tell yourself from a week ago that you were had booked an appointment to the nearest place, you would have fainted. And if you would have told yourself from 4 hours ago, when you booked that appointment that you would eventually have to step INTO the store too, you would have freaked out. Screw that, you were freaking out now.

You had considered turning around and running about four or five times, but that little voice in the back of your head going pussy wouldnt leave you alone. In a burst of confidence you entered the shop and were met with a surprisingly comfortable atmosphere, and a cozy interior.

You scan the shop for a few seconds, deeming it good enough not to run out of right away, before a tall, slim figure emerged from one of the Backrooms. He wore a lazy smile when he came to you, clicking away at the computer on the desk before asking “Are you my boudoir at 4?” In a smooth, low voice.

You nod shyly in response, fidgeting with your hands a little. He chuckled in response “Don’t worry love, I won’t do anything- this is my job after all.”

He led you to a studio type room and handed you a robe. “Over there.” He said, and a long index of his rose to gesture to a little changing cabin in the corner of the room. “Ill go get everything set up for us.” And with that, he left you to freak out in the changing rooms because fuck he’s hot!

When you emerge again he’s already handling some sort of lenses to the end of the cameras, lights and props set up and ready to go. When he looks to you, you grow shy again and tug the robe a little tighter around your body. He sees this and nods reassuringly “It’s normal to be nervous, sweetheart.” Which only makes you more nervous.

He notices, but chooses to ignore it as he guides you to one of the chairs that are set up. “Now dont worry too much about anything. Just do your thing, ill do all the magic.” You sit, admittedly a little more relaxed but still stiff and he huffs with a smile. “Relax girl! You dont want these looking like pass photos do you?” And that makes you giggle a litte, finally loosening up again.

“There we go. That’s better already. Want me to talk you through it, distract you a little? Do you think that would help?” Eyes are soft but his gaze burns straight through you. “I think that would help, yeah.” And that makes him smile a little.

“How old are you anyway? You look very young- I don’t normally get a lot of girls your age.” He lifts the camera and clicks something on a little machine that begins whirring lightly in the background, producing little qualms of smoke. “I uh, im twenty two. Don’t get me wrong I would have never done this on my own accord, but my auntie, she said that id regret it my whole life if i don’t do this and all such things.”

Whilst you had been explaining, your robe had started slipping off your shoulders. You had noticed but found it the most natural transition into the inevitable. Getting more comfortable, you decided to throw your legs over one of the seat’s armrests, leaning back a little, getting comfortable, as he had advised.

“Thank your auntie for me then.” He whispered underneath his breath, the shutter clicking softly.

[lizzie-is-here]

lonely is a man without love

part iii- cairo

“i am a deserted sky, and you are the moonlight” - manoj muntashir

summary: you and marc head to cairo, and you make a shocking discovery in the form of a giant skeleton bird

wordcount: 4k

warnings: language, violence, vague references to the red room, drinking, slight pining, a saddening lack of steven

a/n: yuhhh posting this before my bday tomorrow so i can get crunk af. ALSO TAYLOR AND JOE? sobbing. but i hope y’all enjoy love y’all sm sm sm 🫶

taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope @undiscl0sed-d3sir3s @iateall-yourcookies @disregardedplant @sunflowers-4 @yellowumbrelllaaaa @bagsy-not-it @local-mr-frog @thescarletredwitch @jupitersmoon167 @creamecafe @stevenknightmarc @theluciansystem @kingtwhiddleston @spider-biter @mxltifxnd0m @sgt-morgan @no-dont-be-suspicious @onzayhe @namorslit @i-cant-write-for-shit

i’m sorry it won’t let me tag some of y’all 😭

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Marc pokes and prods for more intel on your profession the whole plane ride to Cairo.

Honestly, it’s more of a harsh interrogation at this point, with him making sure you aren’t working for any remnant of the Red Room that managed to stay alive. Once he’s satisfied and his temper cools, you explain why you were sent.

“Righteous” justice or not, he was a danger, killing random people all over Europe and shaking off hits that no normal person should be able to. And the team liked to keep tabs on enhanced beings.

“So the actual Avengers are worried about me? It’s not like I’m going after them,” he says.

You laugh, loud and obnoxious. “Worried? No, you misunderstand. It’s more of a public safety precaution. Just making sure all of our loose ends are tied.”

“Loose ends being…?”

“Hydra. The Red Room-“ You gesture to yourself. “Aliens. Things like that.”

“Yeah…” Marc says, hesitant. “‘Things like that’, sure.”

You lean over a bit, scanning the plane from your aisle seat to check for threats. All you see are tired passengers, dozing off or absorbed in the small TVs on the backs of the seats.

Once satisfied, you turn back to Marc.

“If you want to sleep, now’s a good time. Once we get to Cairo, we’re not going to have much time to rest,” you say, nodding to the TV. 3 hours away.

He eyes you, a bit suspiciously, but closes his eyes anyway. With a sigh, you stand up, snaking through the aisles to the bathroom. You grab your phone and tap a favorited contact.

“(Y/N)?”

“Tasha,” you greet. “Is it a bad time?”

Your friend shakes her head, holding up the phone to show the group. “We just finished a movie, what’s up?”

“So… Marc Spector is here. He has DID, and Steven Grant is an alter, not an alibi. Things are getting serious.”

She nods. “That explains a lot.” You’d been relaying your experiences to them for weeks, and they’d shared in your confusion. Her tone turns more stern. “How serious?”

“Cults, magic, something about a scarab? It’s out of my expertise.”

“Do you need backup?” Steve’s voice calls from the other side of the couch.

You shake your head. “No, it’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s just fucking weird.”

A chorus of laughter goes up on the other end of the phone and you smile, rolling your eyes when a knock lands on the bathroom door.

“I just wanted to update you. We’re heading to Cairo now, so…” You shrug. “I will maybe get some souvenirs.”

The knocking grows more incessant.

“Will you hold on? Your shits can wait!” you call. Turning your attention back to the phone, you sigh. “I’ve got to go. This person is going to kick the door down.”

Nat nods and mock-salutes you. “Have fun, stay safe. You can always call, (Y/N).”

With a brief goodbye, you wash your hands and leave, awkwardly waving at the small child who was the source of the knocking. Sitting down, you sigh, listening to the sound of air and propellers.

No sleep for you, you guess.

———————————————————————

When the plane lands and you rush off, you and Marc find the closest hotel and buy separate rooms.

Even after securing the room and stuffing a gun under your pillow, you still sleep lightly. A shattering sound wakes you, bright light from outside invading your eyes, and you curse under your breath as you clamber out of bed.

You slip out of your door and into Marc’s room, gun still gripped in your hand.

He’s sitting on the floor, head in his hands. A mirror is shattered.

“Are you gonna break more mirrors or can we start the day?” you ask. He raises a bottle.

Snatching it from him, you down the last of the fiery liquid and chuck the bottle. It lands somewhere on the ground behind you, brown glass joining the reflective shards on the tile.

He drunkenly laughs, looking up to where you stand.

Your hair is free and rustled, not like how you normally have it. Your hair is always braided or tied back, something he now realizes is a habit from your training.

There’s a gun in your hand, and he can see your finger on the trigger. Marc regrets waking you, partially out of guilt and partially because he’s once more been reminded that you’re a killer. Which reminds him that he’s a killer.

You’re just a much prettier killer. Much.

“Are you going to get up? Or are you going to stare at me like you want to fight me again?” you laugh. “Because it did not go so great for you last time-“

He waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah. ‘M gettin’ up,” he finally says, and you slip away, avoiding glass and heading back to your own room to dress for the day.

Light colors, thin fabrics. Anything to stave off the heat. Once you’re both ready, you and Marc head into the city.

You don’t mention the mysterious absence of Steven, who the vigilante is definitely suppressing. Said vigilante is too busy hunting down his target.

He shakes off the last bit of drunkenness as he leads you up a ladder, not really telling you where you’re going or why. It doesn’t bother you, per se, but you are curious as to how he knows where to go. Sometimes he glances at empty spaces, as if listening to something not quite there.

You have no time to ponder this strange behavior as you leap across rooftops and nimbly avoid obstacles that Marc barrels through.

Your question as to who you’re hunting down is answered when you see a group of men, with one being stabbed in the stomach right as you arrive. Great.

“Oh, shit,” Marc sighs. “You killed him? I needed to talk to that guy. About a dig sight.”

“I don’t think they can un-stab him,” you snort.

He nods. “True. Guess I’m gonna have to talk to you all instead.”

“You’re too late,” one of them growls. “You’re never gonna find Harrow.”

“That’s his name?” You audibly gag. “Eugh, that’s a shit name for a cult leader.”

The guy tosses his knife in the air, following it up by tracing the blade along the ground.

“Ooh,” Marc says. “What, are we dancin’? We fightin’? What are we gonna do?” You step back as one of them lunges, deciding to go easy on them and not use a weapon.

Slamming one against the wall is easy enough, though he gets up soon after and targets Marc instead. One of them, a kid, charges at you.

You disarm him and shove him on his ass, not wasting your time on a literal child. Whipping around, you grab the handle of a knife as it zooms past, a few inches past your shoulder.

“Seriously? Learn to aim,” you say to yourself as you toss the knife off the roof.

It’s going rather well for a street fight. Much more fun, albeit less challenging than any of your Red Room missions.

And then it all goes to shit.

Marc’s got a knife to a guy’s throat, but something changes. A brief moment of silence, and he slams the blunt handle on his head, hard enough for him to bleed.

You let him go to town fighting the other two, who are now much more scared of him. It’s only when he meets your gaze that you realize something is deeply wrong. The hairs on your neck rise.

That’s not Marc. Definitely not Steven.

Your suspicions are confirmed when he leaps from the roof and disappears into the crowd.

What the fuck?

You follow, sprinting down streets as you barely stay on his tail.

When you manage to catch up to Marc, or whoever, he’s staring down a cliff with two dead bodies on the ground. You don’t have to look to know that the third lies at the base of the steep drop.

“Marc? What the fuck just happened?” you demand.

He whirls around, fear in his eyes.

“I- I don’t know. That wasn’t me, or Steven. So what-”

The wind swirling interrupts him, and he stares off at a rusty car.

“And what is so interesting about the car that-”

“We have to find Harrow. What about the other gods?”

You furrow your brow. “What?”

A disembodied voice responds, “To signal with an audience with the gods is to risk their wrath-”

You’ve never pulled out a gun faster. Turning in circles, you find no source. No people, no tech. Your breath quickens, aiming the firearm at random.

“Okay, Marc?” you begin. “I’m all good with cults, and floating scarabs, and even some magic, but you are going to have to explain that voice before I start freaking out.”

The man sighs, glancing back to the air.

“I serve the Egyptian god Khonshu. I’m his… avatar.” The delusional nature of his statement is offset by how naturally he says it, so much so that you do a double-take.

“And you’re just telling me this now? Of course, of course, the first mission I go on after fighting a grape from space has Egyptian gods,” you hiss. “Don’t tell the public, Thor’s got plenty of fangirls that you don’t want.”

The voice sounds again. “I doubt they’d find the same appeal in me.”

You shrug, but when you turn in the direction it came from, you see it. And boy is it ugly.

An absurdly large bird skull, the body covered in mummification wrappings, and a large staff at his side.

“Cool. Cool-cool-cool. You were saying about talking to the other gods?” you mumble, trying to ignore the large bird thing.

“Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?” Marc asks.

“Anger them enough and they’ll imprison me in stone,” the thing -Khonshu- says.

“That doesn’t sound too bad to me,” the man next to you says. You nod in agreement.

“You are very ugly,” you state bluntly.

Evidently unused to people disrespecting him, the god slams his staff on the ground.

“Not many mortals are allowed to even see my form, much less speak to me. It is a blessing.”

“Yes, well, I don’t feel very blessed.”

He turns his attention back to his avatar. “See how well you fare against Harrow without the protection of my healing armor.”

“All right, so what? Do you have any good ideas?”

“I have a bad one.” With that, he disappears.

You glance up, noticing the light dimming. You are met with a solar eclipse. So he can fully move the moon with no regard to its position or that the next eclipse was not for a good while? Huh.

Marc leads you down some stairs, past Khonshu as they talk.

“The gods all have avatars,” he explains. “They’re gathering now, but I don’t know…”

A wall begins to open itself, revealing a tunnel lined with glowing hieroglyphs. “... how to get there,” he finishes.

“I don’t fuck with small, dark, magic tunnels,” you say. “Besides, I don’t think I should join you.”

Marc smiles, visibly nervous. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you shrug.

“You’ll be fine, okay? Meet me here when you’re done, I will wait and see what I can learn about any leads.” It’s the nicest thing you’ve said to him, so he nods, steels his nerves, and heads down the tunnel. As soon as it shuts, you sigh.

“‘Egyptian mythology’,” you whisper to yourself as you type into a search bar. “I guess the black market is a good place to start.”

———————————————————————

You’re wandering through a marketplace when Marc finds you. The Red Room taught you to blend in perfectly, but he manages to spot you when he hears a loud laugh.

In your hand are a drink and a tangerine, which you may or may not have stolen.

“Can you find anything about Senfu’s sarcophagus?” he asks.

“Ouch, no ‘Hi’?” you tease before obliging. As you search with Stark tech assisting you, you glance at Marc. “It didn’t go well.”

“No,” he agrees. “They brought in Harrow, called me crazy, and denied my request.”

“Hmm, some council.” You finally break into a smile, holding your phone flat and projecting your findings. “Mogart. Some black market collector that is conveniently… 24 miles away.”

It takes a while to double-check your intel and find a boat, and the sun has set by the time you’re onboard. Sitting on the end, away from the other groups, Marc watches you, observing the cheerful passengers. A few young girls dance to the loud music, just enjoying the night as you look away.

“You know, I know almost nothing about you,” Marc says.

“I could say the same about you. Other than the file.”

He doesn’t balk at the mention of a debriefing on him, just smirks. “Yeah? Well, you know I work for an Egyptian god, I’ve got a British man living in my head, and the basics. All I know is your name and your-” He gestures at you. “-previous job.”

“You don’t want to know about the Red Room, I promise.” Your smile is a bit bittersweet. “It’s not pretty.”

“My past isn’t either.”

You hum. “The Red Room makes child assassins,” you say, avoiding too much detail. “And… I was cycled through the Black Widow programme three times. I was good at it, too.” That’s all you give up, gauging his reaction.

His gaze softens, not with pity, but with empathy. “How young were you? When you started- The training, I mean.”

The question manages to cause a lump in your throat. This is why you don’t like thinking about it.

You soften the truth when you manage to speak. “I don’t remember a time before it.”

A hand rests on yours. And the two of you sit in silence for a bit, quiet understanding lingering.

“And you?” you say, blinking away the small amount of water building in your eyes. “Did you always work for the bird?”

“No. But I was fighting for a while before I met him. ‘ve done plenty of horrible shit in my life even without him asking me to.”

“And I’ve done horrible things to get out of the Red Room. We have something in common.”

Marc shakes his head. “No, you… you’re out. Hell, you’re working with the Avengers. You’ve made up for it.”

If he knew what you’d done, he wouldn’t be so quick to absolve you. You brush that thought away.

“Well,” you begin, leaning back on the seat. “It’s never too late to start.”

The boat reaches the banks before he can respond or be further distracted by the rings on your hands. Or how your body twists and curves as you quickly jump onto dry land.

“Got an alibi?” you ask, watching Marc stash the duffel bag under the dock.

He hums, shrugging. “A few. Rufino Estrada,” he decides. “What about you?”

“I’m going in as myself. Obviously, not an Avenger, but…” You tie your jacket around your waist, allowing your t-shirt to hide many of your weapons.

On your belt, there are two guns and a handful of knives, but Marc’s eyes are drawn to your wrists. Gauntlets flicker red, electricity in them crackling as you check your weapons.

He speaks after you fire an experimental blast into the ground. “And what’s our story here?”

“You hired me as security, and you are in the business for this sarcophagus. You’re a reputable antiques buyer who previously had ties to Dreykov, the head of the Red Room. I’ve already sent that information ahead.” You flash a charming smile to the man, who still seems a bit on edge. “Mogart made a few small deals with him, so he knows how serious the Widows are. It’s a perfect alibi.”

You two approach a large track, with men jousting under bright lights as music blares from the speakers.

Schooling your expression as you approach a man, you tilt your chin up.

“Where is your boss?” you ask, voice much darker and accented than usual.

“Ma’am-“

“I sent a message earlier. We’re here for the sarcophagus.” The man immediately nods and rushes off as you lead Marc forward. “Don’t drop the act,” you whisper. “Let’s go.”

The guy introduces himself as Bek and guides you toward the track. “He’s excited to meet you. He hasn’t been able to speak to any of the infamous Black Widows after the Red Room fell.”

They were scattered across every continent on Earth, rebuilding their lives. Of course he wouldn’t find them.

“Excuse me a moment. Mr. Mogart will be with you shortly,” Bek says, slipping away.

You lean against the railing, the Widow Bites on your wrists glowing red at the movement.

“So what?” Marc starts. “This joker just puts on El-Mermah games in his backyard for fun?”

You click your tongue. “Ah, who knows? Rich people are weird.”

“Sir, Agent. Come in.” The man, dressed in a dark red robe, greets you with a more than relaxed attitude. “I hear you’re interested in my collection?”

Marc nods. “I hear you have Senfu’s sarcophagus.”

“And who told you that?” This is tedious, you think to yourself. Diplomacy and bargaining, it makes you want to heave.

“The best in the business.” Marc gestures to you.

Mogart seems convinced by this, and you begin to head toward a group of buildings.

“I hope you understand this is more than a collection to me. Preserving history is a responsibility I take very seriously.”

“No one asked you to do that,” you comment mildly, baring your teeth in a sinister grin when he frowns at you. “Yet, here we are.”

Mogart brushes off the thinly veiled insult with a chuckle. “I forgot how deep Widows cut,” he jokes. “How was the old boss before he died? May he rest in peace.”

“Pieces,” you correct, struggling to speak well of the man that previously controlled every aspect of your life. “Helicopter explosion. He… He died powerful and influential. What he would’ve wanted.”

Mogart doesn’t push further, thankfully, coming to a stop in front of a glass pyramid.

“If I may ask, why such interest in Senfu in particular?”

You have a fake reason, but he gestures for Marc to answer. Shit.

“I think that… I just think I would love to take a look,” he says. He’s confident, but it’s an awkward pause.

Mogart concedes. “Funny man. Feel free.”

As you enter the area housing said tomb, you glance at Marc.

“You need to let Steven out. He knows more than either of us and we cannot afford to blow this,” you whisper.

Marc scoffs. “Not a chance. All right, what do you see?”

“The burial practices,” you begin, recalling your research from earlier. “They’re in line with the Studenwachen texts.”

“The what?”

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “Apparently I’m the only one who studied. It means it’s real. But all of this is just instructions to guide the dead.”

“So?”

“No locations indicated.”

Marc glances up at the ceiling, likely listening to Steven. He turns back to you, voice hushed.

“Ok, will you give me a minute? I gotta talk to Steven. Keep him occupied.”

You nod, slipping away with a sigh of relief.

“Mr. Estrada needs some time alone,” you announce, watching said man ramble to himself. “He’s… praying.”

This doesn’t stop Bek, who storms in and grabs Marc’s arm. On instinct, the ex-Marine disarms him, also giving up your cover.

Guns are trained on you in an instant, and you raise your hands.

“Marc!” you shout. He spots you, and for a second you think he’s gonna shoot the guy and leave you to fend for yourself. Instead, he curses and gives up the gun.

“Do you really think I’m an idiot?” Mogart asks. “Get on your knees.”

Marc obliges, and the robed man sneers at you. “I really thought you were a possible ally.” A gun shoved against your neck forces you forward. “I used to be Dreykov’s customer, a friend, even.”

“You think I’d want anything to do with the man who ruined my life?” you laugh. “Dreykov was a coward. And I wish I’d been the one to kill him.”

“Hey-“ Marc steps in. “Take a look inside the sarcophagus. There’s somethin’ really, really big.”

Before Mogart can look, Bek speaks to him in French. You freeze.

“It appears we have a concerned third party here,” he says. “Get up.”

“Harrow,” you mouth to Marc, trying to find the zealot. He stands with two men, leaning on his staff.

“Whatever they’ve told you, I’m sure I can offer something much more tangible.” The scarab floats above his hand. “Why settle for a clue when you can have the treasure?”

Arguing breaks out as Marc snaps at Harrow, who simply turns to each of you. “You all have more in common than you know.”

“(Y/N), you think that ignoring the past will keep it from catching up to you. That missions can give you a purpose, but it’s closing in.”

You’re so taken aback by him knowing your name and reading you so well that you don’t hear another word.

“Do it. Summon the suit,” Khonshu says, appearing on a rooftop. “Give them what they deserve.”

You exchange a glance with Marc, subtly nodding to your gun, and then to the distracted guards.

Meanwhile, Harrow calls on his staff, using it to destroy the sarcophagus. By the time the cultish leader is gone, so is Marc.

Panic starts immediately, and you grin despite being surrounded.

“Well, boys. Looks like you’re in trouble.”

Mogart and Bek run as Marc starts attacking, throwing down curved blades as you grab your gun. Shooting down three guards is easy enough, but more are firing from the track.

“Here!” Marc covers you with his cape, blocking the gunfire in a way you don’t understand.

You catch your breath, looking up where his eyes glow through the suit.

“Can you buy me some time?”

“Absolutely.”

You run to the tomb, grabbing the tattered fabric. When you turn around, you come face to face with Bek.

Thinking fast, you throw shards of glass at his face and kick him in the stomach. He grabs a knife as you dodge his attacks, ducking in time for his knife to land in the mummy.

You take the advantage, slamming the grip of your gun into his nose. He tosses you away to grab the knife, but as he turns around, you fire off a single shot.

A quick death, it could be worse.

Running to the track where Marc is pinned down, you jump the fence. There’s multiple javelins stabbed through him, and you shoot a rider with another ready.

As you aim for the rest, however, you take a blow to the head. You hit the dirt, trying to rise as your vision blurs.

You can hear hoofbeats pounding in your head, only increasing the incoming headache. He’s got a javelin.

“Fuck that hurts,” you mutter, pushing yourself into a sitting position with your gauntlet trained on the figure. Even as Mogart heads for Marc, you don’t waver, especially when he sticks out the weapon to attack you at the last second.

Marc tackles you out of the way, enveloping you as he rolls to safety and tosses a last knife. It doesn’t miss.

Sighing in relief, you let your head flop onto his shoulder as you try to fight off the ache. He pats you on the back as his wounds mend under the suit. A luxury you don’t have.

“There you go. That’s it, deep breaths,” he mumbles, not really sure when you got comfortable enough with each other to sit like this.

He tries his best not to focus on the weight of you leaning on him, trusting him enough to rest, safely tucked in his arms. It feels nice, to have someone trust him like this. Marc hasn’t had that in a long time.

He coughs a bit and you pull away, leaving a cold, exposed feeling where your touch was. Shakily standing, you observe the bodies scattered on the sand.

“We should keep moving,” you say softly. “Don’t want them to catch up.”

Marc can only nod as he fights to keep from reaching for you.

“Yeah. We’ll keep moving.”

[blurbios]

Being Dabi’s Doting S/O (Part 2)

cw: none

other: gn! reader, fluff

follow up to this

As odd as it still felt when Dabi thought about it, he had gotten used to you caring for him. The mission Shigaraki had sent him on was a long and tedious one, no intense fighting, but tiring nonetheless. He was absolutely exhausted, the only thing that kept him going was the thought of seeing you light up when he walked through the door. Nobody told you that Dabi was coming home that night, so you were sitting in bed, typing out an essay for some random college kid that commissioned you. You started writing papers as a side hustle after having met the league so that you could help keep the lights on in the place. You were nearly finished when you heard the doorknob turning. “Ah, you’re home! Nobody told me, I’m sorry. Should I run you a bath? Did you eat?” You rambled on and on as he walked closer to you, visibly fatigued. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back, you quickly moved the laptop from your lap, careful not to delete your hard work. 

“I missed you.” He looked up at you, his head now resting on your thighs.

“I missed you too Dabi, I’m glad you’re back.” You ran your fingers through his messy hair. “How bad was it? Because I’ll fight Shiggy, I don’t care.” You hated seeing him look so drained.

“You don’t have to do that, it wasn’t bad. It just took too long, don’t worry.” He laughed a bit at the thought of you actually confronting Tomura. 

“I always worry, you know that.” You smiled down at him, taking a second to take in what was happening. Not one sarcastic remark, not one hand swat, he was nothing but genuine. He brought your free hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on each individual digit, you could feel the smile on his lips as he did so.

“I love you, y/n.” he said looking up at you admiring your features. He still had a hard time saying it, but he couldn’t believe that you were his. 

“I thought I was supposed to be the mushy one.” You joked. 

“Maybe you’re rubbing off on me too much.” He retorted like normal. He sat up and turned toward you, taking your hands in his. “Sometimes I think you’re too good for me.” You raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the sudden sincerity. “You’re so caring and kind, you shouldn’t be around people in the league, people like me.” His eyes dropped as he felt a bit ashamed. 

“If you really think all those things, you have to tell me what I can do to make those thoughts fade.” You removed your hands from his grasp and placed them on either side of his face. “I love you, Dabi. I want you to realize that you deserve good things too.” You inched closer to his face, so he had to look at you. “I mean it, I love you, more than anything.” He leaned forward to press his lips gently to yours. You both felt heat growing in your cheeks. You felt the familiar sensation of butterflies in your stomach, the same feeling as when you had first confessed to him. He leaned all his weight on you causing you to lay down. You wrapped your arms around him as he laid on top of you. 

“Maybe I am rubbing off on you too much.” You laughed. It was nice having the tables turned, him clinging to you instead of the norm. 

“I’m so lucky to have you.” He spoke lightly into your hair as he nuzzled closer. 

“And I’m even luckier.” You placed a soft kiss on his temple. You felt so lucky that he felt comfortable with you, comfortable enough to seek you out and rest his whole weight on you, comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you, and comfortable enough to show that he loves you. You were used to him doing little things, silent gestures of love, but this was new and it made you feel treasured. After all, you were his treasure, the treasure that he was lucky enough to stumble upon, and the treasure that he would never ever let go of.

a/n: i dont think every league member is gonna get a part two, but this popped in my head and i knew i had to do it. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh thank y’all for enjoying these lil stories i write btw makes me happy xx

[aggressivenesswhilecrying]

Give me one good reason

Summery;

Instinctual mimic Flirting tactics normally involve shifting to have similar traits, and martyn is not beyond this. Grian and Jimmy just have to deal with the consequences.

Beta read and edited by mayself

No trigger warnings!!

Ao3 link

(This is for the @mcyt-halloween event, for my giftee @v1neyy)

“It’s not my fault…”

Martyns voice was more of a defensive huff than him actually talking, despite the fact it, very much was his vault. Small green parakeet wings puffing up with his defensive words. Jimmy just sighed into his hand. Gesturing at the man sat on his couch. Trying to find something to say to him before grian takes the words right out of his mouth.

“Pray tell, how exactly is this, “not your fault”?” grains voice grumbles out, arms folded over his chest, his own wings spread awkwardly in the arm chair, as if to show his own emotion, even though it was clearer than need be across his face.

Martyn wasnt born an avian. That was just a simple fact, he wasnt born anything even near human like, to be completely honest. Being a mimic, martyn was more of…a moving glob of sludge when he was born. One that jimmy and grian were warned against growing up.

Being two little kids they thought martyn was more of their…new shared pet between the two. Martyn would hide in grains garage one week, and jimmys backyard the next. Well. that was until one day jimmy went out and on his porch sat a boy with the exact same shade of blonde hair as himself. And grains brown eyes. And a height right between the two. And he just waved, flashing the, at the time, human, a large toothy grin that jimmy knew well, and waving his hand.

After those days, no one really, knew martyn was a mimic, that he just copied traits as he went, eventually his eye color changed, and he started to become more of his own person. A person who was really just a collection of the people he loved.

When grian texted jimmy this time though, jimmy is going to be honest, he didnt expect the words. “Martyn decided to grow wings.” it was not on jimmy bucket list, hes going to be completely honest. Of course he invited the two over, to talk this out of course, but, there hasnt been much talking about it. No. it’s been mostly martyn denying that he meant to do this and the two only questioning him further.

How the actual fuck do you explain mimic courting to an avian and a guy cursed with bird wings? You dont. Thats how.

“Listen it’s just, not my fault, i didnt mean to.” martyn said. Bargaining for the two to just, let the subject drop. Jimmys wings puffing up, making all the wings in the room puffed up and spread out in some form of emotion. “Cant you like, control your form??” jimmy asked, his voice raising as he stressed the words, both hands flaring out gesturing at martyn.

“Normally yeah!! But not right now!! So can you please, show me how to take care of them while theyre stuck to my fucking back?” he pleads, curling up further and holding his head, grian’s sigh is far more disappointed than what jimmy has ever thought hes ever heard. Pinching the bridge of his nose.

Sighing deeply as he decides to give in, standing up and folding his wings against his back.

“Bloody- fine. I guess martyn. Lay down on your stomach. On the floor. “ he grumbles looking over to jimmy. Martyn lets out a breath he knew he was holding in. chest heaving with relief, at finally being left alone. And jimmy lets out a sigh as well. The 3 only mirroring each other without really noticing it.

“I’ll make us some tea.” he says, finding his way out of the room for his own mental sake.

“This is called preening.” grian said, hands on the base of martyns wings, as he sat on the small of his back, sharp talons picking scratching at the skin, causing martyn to let out a happy sigh at the feeling. “You’ll need to do it just about every other day to keep your wings from hurting.” martyn nods turning his head to look at jimmy, who sits with his back against the couch, sipping at his own mug of tea watching the two.

‘True avians, like grian, only let people they trust preen their wings.” jimmy pipes up as he grins at martyn’s relaxing and happy face. “You preen grian wings all the time.” martyn says quietly, half a question and half a statement. And jimmy only grins. “He preens mine too.” jimmy trails off, sentence ending as he sort of changes topics. “Ill let you preen mine when you get better at your own.” jimmy states and martyn feels the smallest flare of joy in his chest at the words. Jimmy would trust him with that. Maybe martyn does have a chance.

“Youd have to cut off my wings before i let you.” grian said jokingly as his hands move through the outer feathers. Silently hoping martyn learns by the way it feels. But martyn just lays like a puddle on the floor as talons move through his new found wings. A small trill rises in his throat as he closes his eyes and lets himself become one with the floor. It isnt uncommon for martyn to trill as he often picked up vocal habits from the two. But from some reason in the smallest bit where his eyes are still open he sees jimmy.s face turn pink. How odd. He doesnt say anything about it, because thatd be like pointing out the way grian has always rested the ends of his wings on their backs. Thatd be like pointing out the way martyn inspects them, or the way hes never made himself look exactly like the two. It’d be crazy to do so. It’d just be calling eachother out, and if martyn calls them out, then they can call him out, and that never ends well for anyone.

Martyn hums, stretching his arms out across the floor, only relaxing more into it as grian goes further. “You pull out any bent or broken feathers, straighten out the other ones, and scratch out the dirt.” grian says absentmindedly like he isnt quite paying attention anymore to his words and just trying to get the job done. Martyn does see anyone reach for the remote, but he hears the clicks of it and the sound of the tv turning on. “What do you guys wanna watch? Jimmy asks with a hum as he scrolls through the movies, and martyn isnt even sure what streaming service hes on. But he hopes its a good one. Like. nextflix. Well. actually. No, fuck netflix. Hulu. he hopes its hulu.

“Nightmare before christmas” grian answers before martyn even has time to realize how lost in his own head he is at this point. His voice still mumbled with focus, and martyn just nods his head. Grian sounds cute like that, all focused. He bets he has that little frown he’s always had when focusing on school assignments. And martyn feels whats close to a purr rise in his chest at the thought of grian focusing on him like that, having all of grians attention. And he can hear jimmy’s surprised laugh at the sound, mixed with grians. “Oh he’s already gone dude.” jimmy giggles out as he reaches down hand in martyns hair, only causing the purring to go up in volume. He must be so lucky, two pretty boys, both touching him. What did he do to deserve this.

“Im surprised it took this long.” grian laughed as one of his hands moved to scratch the spot between the wings fondly, causing martyn to let out a long, happy trill. Jimmy only cooed along with his laughs. Martyn pays attention to the words just enough to understand them, but his brain only circles back to how nice the two sound and how he’s the one making them laugh and giggle like that. “Feels nice..” martyn grumbles into the floor, word airy and light as he seems oh so happy about the turn of events.

“It’s going to, naturally relaxes you.” jimmy chuckles as he scoots closer to martyn, lifting the mans head and setting it in his lap to give himself more space to mess with the mimics hair. And martyn swears he almost chokes, hiding his turning red face into jimmy’s thigh. It is both the best and worst feeling to have all their attention. Both of them paying so much detail to every single noise or twitch from martyn. Both driving him crazy and making him so fucking happy that he cant stand it. So he decides to not face any feeling and just try to close his eyes and hide.

Grian returns to simply preening, and jimmy puts on the movie like planned. The two whispering words that martyn doesnt have half a mind to make out. All the roams in his mind is the hands on him. God. he should have sprouted wings years ago if this is how itd go.

Time ticks by and has much as martyn would like to say its been hours, its more likely to have only been a singular hour. But every single second feels like forever, even in his almost entirely asleep state, his eyes feel heavy and his body is warm, a perfect mix that leaves his trails and purring quieting down, but still going.

Before he can really notice grian is done, the man is getting off his back, a high whine leaving ,martyns throat as he tries to blink his eyes open to look at whats happen, a small sound of distress leaving him at the mere thought of grian leaving. He cant go. Martyn needs him. He really does. Jimmy’s hand only smooths down his hair. braiding a piece between his fingers. “Snap out of it mar.” jimmy snorts out in a laugh, martyn can only huff and flop fully back into jimmy without a single care for what the avian says.

[vivitalks]

you are a wildflower garden growing in my head

not to be insane about my own fanfiction that i wrote but i am a little insane about this one. so like come be insane with me. join me. dont be afraid. i dont bite (lying) nico deserves hobbies especially when they enable his own self-actualization. anyway. this was written for the bingo prompt "jason remembers nico" i'm normal normal normal about it (still lying) title from the witching hour by the ready set. nico di angelo ass song read it here on ao3

Jason finds Nico among the strawberry plants, staining his hands and knees with dirt.

It's not…like, he's not embarrassed. Plenty of people like to garden. Nico is entitled to his hobbies. Even secret ones. And it’s only a secret because he doubts the Demeter and Dionysus kids would be particularly receptive to Nico tampering with their beloved source of income.

Despite this, he can't help his instinct to be defensive when Jason walks up, the early evening sun haloing him in light.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Nico gestures. “Weeding.”

“Cool,” Jason says, because he’s Jason. “Mind if I join you?”

“To keep me company, or to help?”

“Whichever.”

Nico points to a few rogue sprouts. “If you're here anyway, you might as well get your hands dirty.”

“Done,” Jason says, immediately tearing out the weed with ruthless force. Nico cringes.

“Try to be gentler,” he says, and demonstrates on his own. “Like this. And make sure to get the roots out, otherwise it’ll just grow back.”

“What's the difference?” Jason asks. “We're killing it either way.”

“Yeah, but…” Nico squirms. “Just because we're killing it, doesn't mean we have to make it suffer. Wouldn't you rather die in your sleep than bleed out with all your limbs torn off?”

Graphic, but it gets the point across.

“Fair enough.” Jason looks a little faint, but he tugs out the next weed with a lot more precision, careful to unearth its roots and all.

“I know it takes a little longer,” Nico says, “but mercy is a worthwhile use of time. In my opinion.”

Jason has this look. It lands on Nico. “You never cease to amaze me,” he says. Almost reverently.

Nico turns the color of strawberries. “Shut up. Keep weeding.”

“Aye aye.” Jason salutes and returns to his assigned task. Every so often he'll stop to check with Nico if something is a weed or not, but he's always gentle pulling them out.

After a few minutes, Nico says, “How did you find me?”

Because realistically, anyone looking for Nico would probably never consider checking the strawberry fields. In fact, most people would discourage him from being there at all.

“I don't know,” Jason says, which causes Nico to look up in surprise. A thoughtful look crosses Jason's face. “Lucky guess, I suppose.”

“Hell of a guess,” Nico says, reaching for another green shoot. It comes out of the earth so easily, barely old enough to have burrowed down, and some part of Nico feels a sting at that. Plants uprooted before ever having a chance to grow. Nico knows what that's like.

He also knows that weeds don't mean to be bad. They don't mean to be anything; they're harmful only when rooted near bigger, better flora. It's not their fault they hog the nutrients and land. Like any living thing, all they want is to survive. Their only crime is trying to grow with something prettier flourishing close by.

Nico knows that feeling, too.

He really hates weeding. But he's long since learned it's a necessary part of gardening, and of life. Not everyone can live. Not everyone can grow. Some plants — some people — are poison. Sometimes the only thing to do is to whisper apologies and dig out the roots, and hope that whatever this dead plant becomes next has better luck than what it was first.

“Did you need something?”

“Do I have to need something?”

“No, but…” Nico shrugs. “I don’t know. I assume you hunted me down for something. And you didn’t have to stay here and help me weed.”

“I did not hunt you down,” Jason says indignantly. “I was looking for you because I wanted to hang out with you. You’re doing this, so I’m doing it too.” 

“I'm not trying to say you shouldn't. And I always—” Nico falters. Stupid. This is his boyfriend. If he wanted to continue being an unknowable enigma with emotions under lock, key, and unbreakable steel trapdoor, he wouldn't have gotten himself involved with Jason ‘Heart On His Heroic Sleeve’ Grace. “I always want to hang out with you. I just meant, you didn’t have to help. You could have sat and done nothing.”

“Look, if I'm that bad at weeding, you can just say—”

Nico throws a handful of weeds at Jason and he dodges, laughing. “Shut up. I hate you. I wish I could pull you up by the roots.”

Smiling, Jason says, “You kind of did.”

Nico's brain gives him an error message.

“What does that mean?”

“I mean…you literally uprooted me.” Once again, he has that pensive expression, like Nico is an abstract painting that Jason is admiring while also trying to interpret. It's not the worst way to be looked at. “My whole life before you was Camp Jupiter. The legion. Being Roman. Being Jupiter's kid.”

“I didn't change all of that,” Nico points out. “You did.”

He can feel the chill of the cold ground through his jeans. Every inch of his palms is smudged with dirt. Jason's hands are starting to look the same. There's a dark streak by his hairline, and one on his jaw, and the setting sun keeps glinting off his glasses. It is, on the whole, unfairly attractive of him.

Jason hums like maybe, maybe not. “It still feels like you were the catalyst to all that change. The good change, not the…manipulated-by-Juno change.”

“I appreciate what you're doing,” Nico says, “but you understand that's ridiculous, right? We didn't know each other until after the prophecy and the quest and everything. I can't have had any impact on you before then.”

“But you were at Camp Jupiter. You arrived just before I disappeared.”

“I know that,” — People suspected me, Nico doesn't add — “but we barely spoke.”

“Yeah, but you…” Jason falls silent, his eyebrows drawn together. If Nico was art before, he's a riddle now, and Jason is struggling to solve it. “I just…feel like it was important. The timing.”

Nico buries his fingers in the ground, relishing the way the dirt crumbles and closes around his touch.

“The timing was important,” he says. “My dad knew Hera was planning something, so he sent me to Camp Jupiter like…an advance team. But it had nothing to do with you.” He pauses. “No offense.”

“No, none taken.” Jason’s laugh is a little off. “I don't know. Maybe I'm going crazy.”

“If you're crazy, I belong in an asylum,” Nico says, digging and digging until he can feel the roots of the closest weed. He pinches it between his thumb and forefinger, and watches as it turns brown, then shrivels into a dead, drooping dandelion.

He winces. That's his least favorite weeding strategy. He didn't even mean to do it just now. It's like his own body is saying, You're damn right you should be locked up. See what you can do?

I'm helping plants grow, he retorts.

His brain says, Only you would inflict death and call it ‘helping’.

Nico growls under his breath and stops listening to his brain.

“Anyway, you're not crazy,” he adds belatedly. “A goddess literally played with your memory and identity like Play-Doh, so cut yourself some slack.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Nico figures Jason is deep in thought, but when he glances up, he sees a different look on Jason’s face — like he’s just solved the riddle.

“I’ve seen you do that before.”

It’s quiet and distant, Jason’s voice, and weighted with a revelation. Of something, though Nico’s not sure what. Nico doesn’t mean to, but he recoils a little — at the thought of Jason, some previous Jason, watching him ruthlessly murder an innocent plant, maybe even without meaning to.

“At Camp Jupiter,” Jason murmurs.

Those words don’t make sense. They smack into Nico’s memory like birds into a glass window pane, seeking a target and failing miserably.

“What?”

“At camp,” Jason says slowly, his hands resting limply in the loam. Behind the frames of his glasses, his eyes are unfocused. “One of your…first days there. I saw. You killed a hyacinth.”

An icy hand reaches into Nico’s chest, past his ribs, and closes around his heart.

“You saw that?”

Jason nods, still lost in the memory. “You were coming up to the principia, and you knelt to admire the flowers.”

To admire the flowers. Yes. That’s all he'd been doing. The walkway leading to the principia had been gorgeous, elegant flora lining the path in a rainbow of colors, a dozen or more different varieties in bloom. And Nico had only wanted to appreciate their beauty. To breathe in the fragrance of something so alive. 

“As soon as you touched it,” Jason says, “it died.”

Nico flinches.

“I was— I was nervous,” he says anxiously. “You and Reyna had asked to see me, and I was afraid you would decide I couldn’t stay. Couldn’t— be trusted.”

“I…” One of Jason’s hands comes up to rub the back of his neck, smudging dirt all over himself. “When I saw that, I had my doubts. But the way you reacted — like you were scared of yourself.” He shakes his head, his eyes sliding over Nico but with the distinct impression of looking beyond him. “I thought you must not have done it on purpose.”

“I didn’t.” Nico feels sick. He doesn’t know what to do here. Jason can’t even look at him. “I had never done it before, not by accident. I was scared.”

“And then I saw something else,” Jason says, blinking repeatedly. He pulls his glasses down the bridge of his nose and rubs his eyes with grimy hands, leaving the impression of twin shiners behind. But when he pushes his glasses up again, his gaze is sharp and focused. He faces Nico, straightening his shoulders. “That night, I watched you plant a new hyacinth.”

Nico stares. The ground underneath him might as well be thin air. “You…you saw that?”

“It was late,” Jason says, perfectly clear now, growing more certain every second. “I mean, later than anyone should have been up and about, but I left something in the principia, so I went back to get it, and when I came out, you were there. Kneeling by the flowers, just like that morning.”

Nico vividly remembers this. The wilted hyacinth had haunted him that whole day, a lethal combination of guilt and fear in equal measure. Something beautiful and alive was now ugly and dead, because of him. If he could do that to a flower, without even meaning to, what could he do to another person? What if he could stop someone’s heart on contact? How could Nico ever trust his own touch again?

And then something else had arisen, the way a new substance can emerge from two chemicals interacting. Determination. Nico may have been a child of death, but damn it, he could be more than that. He had to be more than that.

“I killed something,” Nico says hollowly. “I wanted to give something else life. To atone.”

Jason puts his dirt-stained hand over the knee of Nico’s equally dirt-stained jeans.

“Nico, I watched you plant that flower. I saw…” He hesitates. “I saw you pray. I couldn’t hear you, but the way you just…” He shakes his head, obviously overcome by the memory. “You didn’t do it for anyone else. You weren’t trying to prove anything to the Romans, you were just trying to make up for your mistake.”

“I didn’t know you were there,” Nico says weakly. How long had Jason stood in the shadows of the principia, a silent observer, as Nico mourned for one dead flower?

Jason ducks his head for a second. “I thought— I didn’t want to embarrass you,” he admits. “I figured you would misunderstand me if I said I had been watching you.”

Well, that’s true enough.

“I forgot,” Jason says, which is a familiar sentence out of his mouth. He grips Nico’s leg tighter. “But now I remember, and I was right. It was important. The timing was important.”

“What timing? What are you talking about?”

“My whole life, I had this feeling like I wanted to be more than who my father was,” Jason says. “I mean, you know. Big Three dad. They named the camp for him. Big shoes to fill, and it wasn’t that I didn’t want to fill them, but a small part of me was always thinking, why me? Why can’t someone else lead? You know?”

Nico nods. He does know.

“And then you came along,” Jason says. “The only other Big Three kid I had ever met. And yeah, at first, you seemed like the quintessential descendant of Pluto.”

“Scary, unapproachable, and surrounded by death?”

Jason breathes a laugh. “Yeah. But then I watched you plant a flower.” A slow-growing smile starts at his lips, then spreads up his cheekbones and illuminates his eyes. “The son of death. Nurturing life. Showing remorse and empathy for the living thing he’d killed, that he didn’t even mean to kill.” There’s impossible brightness in Jason’s gaze. “You were so much more than just the son of Pluto. And I thought: if he can do it, why can’t I?”

Nurturing life. Like now, Nico thinks, deliberately closing his fingers around the base of a strawberry plant. That instance, the one Jason is talking about — that had been the beginning of a chain reaction in Nico, turning all of his fear and self-doubt into stubborn conviction. The slow dawning of his refusal to being bound by his father’s name. He would always be Hades’s son, but sooner or later, he had to become his own man, write his own story, choose his own fate. Be Nico di Angelo, and decide who exactly Nico di Angelo would be.

He’d known then who he wanted to be. Someone who protects. Preserves. Sustains. Someone who accepts death and who cultivates life, who one day strikes a balance between light and dark.

He’s not that person yet. But he’s a hell of a lot closer than he once was. And it began with that hyacinth, planted under moonlight.

To which Jason bore witness.

If Nico believed in coincidences, he would call this one. As it is, he tends to believe that everything happens for a reason. Nico was fated to plant that flower. Jason was fated to watch.

“I’m telling you, Nico, it was you who got me thinking about how I could be more than just Jupiter’s son,” Jason says. “You really opened my eyes. And then a month later, when Juno took me…” He chews his lip. “I didn’t remember that moment until now, but I remember how I felt afterwards, like I wanted to just — do something spontaneous, something completely out of character. Surrender my rank and figure out what Jason Grace could do that Jupiter couldn’t. Even when I had amnesia, and even after that, I still had that feeling. It’s what made it so easy for me to choose Greek, to promote Frank as praetor, and then to stay here.” His fist knocks a quick pattern against Nico’s chest. The rhythm is indistinguishable from Nico’s heartbeat. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised it started with you.”

Nico, historically not great with emotions, pulls Jason in by the shirtfront and kisses him in all his dirt-smudged glory. Jason laughs, but he doesn’t break away to do it, so it vibrates over Nico’s lips and travels down his throat like a mild electric shock.

“What?” Nico asks, pulling away.

Jason’s smile looks indestructible. “Nothing.”

“You laughed.”

“I like when you kiss me,” Jason says, with the sun shining from his dimples. “That’s all.”

Nico blushes. “Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to stop you.” Jason’s lips twitch. “But while I’m at it, I guess I should thank you.”

“Thank me for what?” For kissing you? Nico considers, but he’s not that deluded. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You always say that,” Jason says, “after doing something amazing.”

This blush is not going anywhere, anytime soon. “Well, I didn’t do anything on purpose. I didn’t know you were watching.”

“Exactly. You inspired me without even meaning to.” Jason cups his face, so tender. Always. “Then and now.”

“It’s like you want me to kiss you,” Nico says, because he can’t take a compliment to save his life.

But Jason only grins. “I do want you to kiss me.”

Out of respect for Jason’s request, Nico kisses him again. 

This time, Jason doesn’t laugh.

Nico twists Jason's shirt into his fingers, right over his hips. Jason buries his hands into Nico’s already-tangled hair. A cool breeze rustles the plants on all sides and tickles their exposed skin.

Jason is gentle. Not like Nico is fragile, but more like Nico is worth taking his time. He breathes, “Sorry if I get dirt in your hair.”

“Don’t care,” Nico murmurs.

If only Nico from Camp Jupiter could see him now. Kissing a beautiful boy in a field of living things. 

I did this, he thinks. I nurtured this.

[memelda]

i cant help but feel a sense of inferiority whenever i am around my friends

i consciously feel the weight of the trauma and insecurities on my shoulders almost every single moment

i am sick and tired this deep immense insecurity of my background, my family, our lack of discipline, the way i grew up.

i am ashamed to admit this, but i cant help but feel ashamed of my living conditions, my dysfunctional family etc.

i am so ashamed to be ashamed of my life and myself that it brings me so much misery and sorrow.

shouldn't i give myself more credit for all that ive been through?

i grew up conditioned to accept unhealthy habits as 'normal' and 'nothing wrong'. i grew up around laziness, tardiness, hostility, anger. negativity. parents who stayed up until 4am and woke up in the late noon.

and yet, i was always pressured to be perfect in everything i did - and especially an emphasis on excelling in simple tasks, such as bringing a cup of teh tarik to the table at the kopitiam without spilling. if i spilled the teh, it meant that i was incompetent, i was clumsy. and that would be my label from then on. emelda is a clumsy person.

and then joining band in secondary school fed into this perfectionism. i needed to be perfect, perfect, perfect. sure, we were building up our skills. if you made a mistake, you'd get a mere head shake in disappointment from the conductor. but that small gesture took the heaviest tolls on my mental health.

so these were the traumatic experiences that shaped me in my adolescence years as a young, easily impressionable girl.

and then at the same time, papa wasn't paying my school fees on time. my form teacher always had to bring me to the side and remind me of this. i did not know how to internalize this reminder from the teacher. how could i have known to react to this? they couldnt possibly have known how much i feared papa. that lead to another ringing cause of anxiety -- building up the guts to convey this reminder to my father. after all ive seen that was happening at home - the conflicts between him and mama, how abusive he could be, i could barely look him in the eye and talk to him. i always envied tiara, for her perception of him and the relationship she had with him were the opposite from mine.

building up the courage to bring myself to interact with him was the hardest thing for me to do in my life at that point of time.

i never reminded him about the outstanding fees.

so, i hung my head in shame, especially in the presence of my form teacher. the school fees were not going to be paid off.

i carried this burden from my secondary school days even until after the passing of my father. it is considered his debt, right? i now have the responsibility to pay off his debt, i thought, at just the ripe age of 17.

always hung my head in shame. all i knew how to do well.

as i was growing older and taller, so was my pile of insecurities.

----

i am turning 24 this year.

and i am doing my best in unlearning so many unhealthy habits. overcoming my trauma. regulating my

with every chapter of my life, i have met with new people and new experiences, new aspects of myself. i could write a whole book on a single chapter but i dont enjoy spending too much time on dwelling on the past.

everything is ever changing. and i look forward to what life has more to offer me.

[bakuhoes-dumbass]

ABERRATION BOYS BIRTHDAY SPECIAL!

A/N: Hello my nerds, today is my Birthday! So to celebrate my unfortunate birth, I'm doing a special scenario post for my Ab!Boys!

~~

What do the boys from Aberration get you for your birthday?! (GN!Reader!)

These are NOT cannon to the storline.

Warnings: VERY DARK CONTENT. Yandere Headcannons ahead. Mentions of skinning, non-con cum-eating and video recording, stalking, murder, mutilation, manipulation, etc. If you are uncomfortable with these types of things, DO NOT READ. Proceed with caution, as I do not feel bad if you choose to do so while being warned.

MINORS DNI

~~~

Tokoyami

You're seated on the bed, staring at your simple but beautiful ankle bracelet Tokoyami bought for you. Smiling, you fiddle with the gems, entranced by the sparkle that reflects off them.

"Starlight?"

Your head snaps up to see your boyfriend sticking his head through the door way. A love-sick smile grows on your face. "Fumi, you're back!"

He chuckles before slipping through the door way and sits down on the bed, hands behind his back. "Do you remember what today is?" Your face scrunches up in thought before shaking your head. He sighs warmly at the cute look on your face. "Today's your birthday, my starlight. And I got you something."

Tokoyami moves his hands from behing him and your eyes light up upon seeing the book he hands you. "Fumi, thank you! It's beautiful." Your hand traces over the cover, following the lines of the ornate designs. "It looks so familiar..." you mumble.

Tokoyami swallows the lump in his throat. "It's one of a kind, love. Would you like me to read it to you?" He tries to steer the conversation away from your feeling of familiarity, not wantinf you to realize it's one of your old books from before he took you.

You nod excitedly and climb into his lap. His arms circle around you and hold you tight, as his thumb grazes over your anklet, eyes boring into the gems that track your every movement.

Kirishima-

"Happy Birthday to my Pebble~ Happy Birthday to my Pebble~"

You glare at the redhead smiling and dancing in front of you as you tug at your restraints. A low huff leaves your lips. "Can you stop? I don't want you celebrating my birthday."

Kirishima stops dancing and gives you a puppy-dog stare. "But why? It's the day my beautiful wife was born! It should be a day to rejoice!"

"Kirishima, I'm not your wife! I'm nor your girlfriend! I'm not anything to you!" You sit up in the bed you were restrained to, only able to move so far forward. "You drugged me, kidnapped me and are currently holding me against my will."

Kirishima watches with a mixture of sadness and anger at your defiant attitude. He hates it when you struggle. He doesn't understand why you're so reluctant to be here! With him! Your husband! That's when he remembers your gift.

"Oh! This is a perfect time to give you your birthday present!"

He drops to his knees and crawls under the bed. You hear rummeging underneath you and your terror spikes. You knew what he kept under the bed, so this couldn't be good. As he comes back up, he's holding a pair of black leather cuffs.

"Surprise! I got you new cuffs!" He climbes onto the bed and straddles you. "These are so cool because instead of being just normal cuffs, they have these two little metal rivets that will shock you whenever I want!"

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens to scream. Kirishima is quick, however. He grabs your face with his hand, hardening it so your scream is muffled. His face geta closer to yours, that sickening grin never leaving.

"Baby, you don't like it? Do you want something else? Don't worry! I have another gift in mind. How about a fresh, bloodied heart that was ripped out of the chest of that mean boss of yours?"

Hawks

"You see this right here?" Your cowroker holds her hand out, showing you and your fellow employees her brand new diamond ring. "He finally proposed! It was about time. It took him awhile to get an ACTUAL ring worthy of me, though. But it's so expensive and beautiful, EEP!"

Keigo watches as you roll your eyes for the thousandth time. He could tell you were getting annoyed, and I mean, who wouldn't? Your coworker has always been a complete bitch to everyone, a lot directed at you.

"Oof, it just sucks that Y/N can't seem to find someone. That's probably the only way they'll be able to look a little less," she looks you up and down. "Er, homeless."

Keigo watches from his perch as you flip her off snd walk away. His hands clench tightly into fists, desperately wanting to knock a bitch out. That's when it hit him. It was your birthday today! And now he knew just what he wanted to gift you.

~~~

"Bye guys, and thank you!"

You wave to your friends after they drop you off at home. They had taken you out for dinner for your birthday and you bad fun. Definitely something you needed after the crappy morning you had.

As you walk up to your door, you notice a small package waiting for you outside. You smile, wondering of it was your long distance partner sending you a birthday gift. You carefully open the package, but once you see the contents, a scream is ripped out of your throat and you stumble away from the box.

Inside, what a severed finger with an absolutely beautiful diamond ring still on it. You failed to notice a small blood-covered note flitter to the floor.

'Happy Birthday, babybird. I hope you like it.'

Tamaki

Tamaki stares at you from behind a tree. He's been following you for a few hours now, just basking in all your wonderful glory. He stares at you with nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes, wishing he could actually get up the nerve to speak to you.

Finally you're off of work and headed home. He really hates seeing you talk to all those really pretty people. What if you were to get a partner?! That wasn't him?! He whimpers at the thought, hands clenching and unclenching.

"Y/N!"

The sound of your name snaps him out of his thoughts. He watches as your friend, whom he deemed not-a-threat yet, skip up to you.

"Are you doing anything for your birthday tomorrow?"

Tamaki's face turns pale. Your birthday! How could he forget the most important day of his life?! The day his precious bunny was born. You would be so disappointed in him. He reluctantly scrambles away from his hiding spot and runs home to get your gift.

~~~

"Oh?"

You stand in your doorway, a package sitting on your front steps. You tilt your head in curiosity and pick it up. Opening it up, you find the most adorable stuffed bunny you've ever seen. And a note.

"Y/N, Happy Birthday! I hope you like this bunny, I thought if you when I saw it. Love, your secret admirer."

You squeal slightly and hug the soft fluff, thinking this was from your flirty coworker. You bring it up to your room and sit it on your bed next to your other stuffies.

Tamaki stares at the screen on his phone, his face bright red at the hug you gave the stuffed bunny. It actually felt like you were hugging him! His happiness was through the roof. He knew you would love it!

But his attention now is back on you as he watches you slowly take your clothes off, one by one, to get ready for bed. His tongue practically falls out of his mouth, watching your bare back closely.

One day, he swears he won't have to watch through the camera.

Overhaul

Chronos watches you closely over the top of his book. You glare at him with tears in your eyes while huddled up in the furthest corner of your human sized cage. Hugging your knees tighter to your chest, you turn your gaze away with a sniffle.

"You know the boss wouldn't want you to cry on your birthday."

You roll your eyes and grip you legs tighter. "I doubt someone who keeps a human in a cage really cares about when they want to cry." You sigh. "Besides, he probably doesn't even give a shit if it's my birthday. I don't even give a shit, at this point."

"Of course I care."

The hair on your body stands up on end as the voice of your captor appears. Fear shoots through you upon seeing his masked face. In one hand he has a gift bag, the other stuffed in his pocket.

"Why wouldn't I care about my pet's birthday?"

He squats to unlock the cage and gestures you over with his finger. You swallow the lump in your throat and crawl out to him, knowing the consequences if you don't follow his rules. He sits down in his chair and pats the side of his thigh for you to kneel next to him.

He opens the gift bag and pulls out a dog collar. A part of you wanted to gag at the thought of being collard to this maniac. But another part of you couldn't help but think how absolutely gorgeous and expensive this collar looked.

"Oh, it's beautiful... Master." You wanted to slap yourself for calling him that, but you had no choice. The last thing you want is to be punished.

Kai hums with approval at your words before buckling the collar around your neck. He finsihes it off with a small padlock to the back, so no one can remove it except for him. A gloves finger grazes over your neck in admiration before looking over to Chronos.

"Prep them for a routone cleaning."

The calmed state you were in was once more replaced by terror. "No, please Master! I've been good, I promise! Please dont do this!" You scramble backwards, away from the two masked men. But Kai was quick and hooked his fingers under your collar, dragging yoi back to him.

"You know this is a must, pet. I need to make sure every inch of you is cleansed before I send any more time with you." He taps the side of your collar with his free hand. "And there is no use attempting to run away. This will forever track any movement you make from here on out."

Kai throws your body over to Chronos, who throws your struggling self over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Happy Birthday, my pet."

Shoto

"Darling~"

You stir in your bed, hearing your boyfriend's voice.

"Darling, wake up~"

Eyes open to see a blurry red and white haired man softly smiling down at you. You stretch your body out and yawn with a cute smile.

"Mmmm Sho, good morning~"

Shoto sighs softly, admiring your beautiful features. "Guess what day it is today. It's a very special day."

You tolt your head, trying to remember the exact date but you are the sure. It's been while since time actually mattered.

"It's your birthday, darling! Happy Birthday! I've got something fun planned for you~"

You sit up, your chains rattling against the bed frame. "You do? I'm so excited! What is it?"

Shoto holds up his black card. "We're going shopping. I'll be getting whatever your heart desires."

Your eyes widen. "Wait, does that mean I actually get to go out? Really?!"

Shoto's smile falters before returning to a softened look. Slight guilt flashes in his eyes. "Darling, you know I can't let you go outside. It's not safe. No, we're doing online shopping~" Shoto grabs his phone and crawls behind you, sitting you in his lap. "Here lets look through some sights and get you some cute stuff."

"I want my darling to have everything they want, so they don't want to leave~"

Dabi

"Mouse."

You stay huddled up in the corner of the room, knees to your chest, not even daring to look at him. Dabi frowns at your defiant behavior. He knows he took you without your permission, but that was so long ago. Shouldn't you have been broken in by now?

"Little Mouse."

You continue to rock back and fourth on the floor, chains clanking together. Dabi sighs, annoyance starting to eat at him. He walks over to you and grabs yoi by the throat, lifting you up.

"You are to respond when I'm speaking to you. Understand?" You let out a little squeak and quickly nod your head with widened eyes. He sits you down on the bed and gives you a lazy smile. "That's better. Now, I have something for you."

He opens the closet door to bring out a box. He places it in front of you. "Happy Birthday, my little mouse."

"Oh, yeah. That's today." You mumble quietly. Kmowing Dabi, this gift was going to have some sort of catch but curiosity got the better of you. But curiosity turned into regret immediately as you throw the lid and scream.

Inside the box were a pair of boots. But they weren't jusf any pair of boots, they were handmade. It was human skin staples together, making them look just like Dabi himself.

"What, does my little mouse not like them?" He smirks before climbing on the bed. He grabs your legs and pulls you down towards him with a manic look on his face.

"That's fine. How about I burn my name into you instead?"

Bakugo

"KATSUKI!"

You jolt up in bed, suddenly awakened by a nightmare. Looking next to you, you see your boyfriend's side of the bed empty. A whimper escapes your lips as yoi trt to calm your racing heart.

"Angel?!" The door to the bedroom slams open, Bakugo's quirk popping in his hands and waiting to attack whomever touched his precious angel. He looks around frantically but notices nothing except your heavy breathing and sweat covered body. "Are you alright? What happened?"

You motion towards him with a sniffle and grabby hands. "I had a dream that you locked me back up in the basement again for days, without you." He comes sits next to you on the bed and pushes the hair out of your sweat covered face. "It was dark and silent and terrifying. Please don't do that again! I would miss you! I've been good, I promise!"

Bakugo sighs and pulls you into a hug. "I know, Angel. You've been doing so well, I'm so proud of you." He plants a kiss on your head as you relax into his arms. "I have a surprise for you actually. Stay right here."

You nod your head, watching him leave the room for a moment, your ankle tugging on the chain that attached you to the bed. I mean, it's not like you would get very far. Bakugo comes back in with a plate of cake and a candle.

"Happy Birthday, my beautiful angel."

Your eyes light up as he sets the piece of cake in front of you. You blow out the candle and take a bite, savoring the taste. "Kats, this is so good! The cake is so fluffy and the frosting is creamy and sweet. Thank you!"

Bakugo watches you with a lovesick grin on his face. He goes to adjust the tightness in his pants as he watches you devour his specially made cake without hesitation.

Denki

"Yeah, it's been super weird. I've been finding these little pieces of jewelry on my bed almost every night the past week."

You continue cleaning the counter as you explain to your cowroker the weird things that have been happening to you. She gives you a strange look.

"Are you sure you haven't misplaced your jewelry on your bed and just forgot?"

You turn your head to give her a dumbfounded look. "Uh, yeah. I think I would remember putting jewelry I've nevee seen before on my bed at the same time every night."

"Well, I don't know! It's just so weird. I don't have any other rational explanation." She suddenly gasps. "What if you have a stalker?!"

"Shh, don't say things like that." You hiss at her but a part of you is wondering if that might be true.

After your shift ends, you wave goodbye and begin your journey home. Unbeknownst to you, an energetic blonde watches as you walk home, excited for you to see your final birthday gift.

Once you step through the door of your house, something feels off. Having a weird feeling, you immediately but slowly make your way to your bedroom and turn on the lights. That's when you see a small but long white box placed on your bed, this time with a note. You carefully open the box to reveal a gorgeous necklace with a small black and yellow lightning bolt charm. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you reluctantly open up the note, hoping to finally uncover some answers.

"Happy Birthday, my dear. You can call me Kaminari. And soon, you will be all mine."

Midoriya

*Click*

You turn around upon hearing the closing of a camera shutter but see nothing. Thinking it's all in your head, you shrug and continue to walk to your parents for your birthday dinner.

"Shit, that was too close." Midoriya mumbles under his breath as he hides in a set of bushes just beyond your vision. He scrolls through his camera roll, looking through every single shot to make sure he's got what he needs.

"These aee perfect! Oh they're going to love it!" He checks to make sure you're long gone before he scrambles out of his hiding spot and runs home to make your gift.

~~~

You unlock the door to your house and step inside with a sigh. As much as you love your birthday and seeing your family, sometimes they can be a little much. Now it's time for you to sit back and relax. You change into your pajamas and turn on your comfort movie with a drink in hand, when suddenly your doorbell rings.

"Who the hell is here at 10 at night?"

You carefully peek through the peep hole in your door, not seeing anyone. Slowly, you open the door and look down to see a neatly wrapped gift. You know you probably shouldn't take a strange gift off of your doorstep, but curiosity gets the better of you.

Taking it back to your livingroom, you open it to reveal a scrapbook. Anxiety raises through your body as you open the first page. Eyes widen in horror the further you flip through, non-consentual pictures taken of you and your family litter the pages. Not only are there ones from being out in public, but private, intimate moments that no one should have seen. But the moment you found a lock of your hair glued to one of the pages was the moment you called the police.

Shinso

Shinso squats infront of you as you stare at him with dead eyes.

"Kitten, I have a surprise for you today."

You shake your head, mumbling. "I don't want it."

Shinso caresses your cheek with his hand before giving it a quick slap. You try ti3 jerk your head away but he grips your cheeks, squishing them together. "Stop being a brat, you don't even know what it is yet. Now, stand up."

You don't even get a chance to stand up yourself as Shinso hauls you up by your face. "I'm taking you out for your birthday."

Your eyea widen in fear and you shake your head. "N-No, please. I'd rather stay here. L-Let's do something together here. Please."

Shinso clicks his tongue. "Come now, kitten. I'm letting you go outside. We don't do this very often, it's a special treat. Is it not?"

You shake your head. "Please, no, everytime you take me out you-"

You go silent, mind fogged over and once again, under his control. There are moments when he mind-controls you to where you don't remember anything the morning after and those moments are awful. But when he feels like being extra cruel? He finally takes you outside, taking you out to eat, to see a movie, to go shopping. You're under his control the entire time but you remember everything. You are right there, fully aware of whats happening around you but can't do anything to ask for help, to save yourself. And it's terrifying

A tear rolls down your cheek as you follow him out the front door, his hand in yours. He smirks, knowing you could never leave him.

"Happy Birthday, Kitten."

[ilysmxiao]

scarred palms | xiao x reader

summary : xiao had told you the story of the scars on the skin that showed, perhaps he was insecure of so, as he was shy to speak of such stories. as one wouldn’t expect, words shared amoungst humans were rarely ever original, though, it was the first he had ever heard such words . character(s) : xiao warnings : mentions of self harm. tho this is comfort !! a/n : came up w this and thought it would be nice !! pls send me some nice requests, rn i mainly write for zhongli, xiao, and kazuha -- though, i can try out other characters! i need to experiment w my writing pfft

            “ it’s the way you speak,                            forming words so easily.                                          i think of the way you think,                                                         it keeps me from falling asleep. “                                                   °· ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ·°

it had been a rough night for xiao, after returning from a recent battle. he rest upon the roof of wangshu inn, settling under the stars that found their spot amongst the very place he protected. the calm, but very much alive atmosphere buzzled below -- the people finding their way back home after the small celebration they held, holding the hands of their lovers as they walked to their rooms.  the thought of love was one he despised, hating the human emotions that created a home in anothers heart -- though, at the same time, he knew that he, himself, had grown ill to such a particular thing.  the tiles shifted ever so slightly, as feet carefully scaled their way across them. it had become a normal thing to hear, at times at these, and the barer of who made those tiles shift was not unknown. it had become a normal routine, and to xiao, it was one he looked forward to on days such as these -- he would never admit to such, instead, hide his delighted heart from his lover when he felt the pressure of their head leaning against his shoulder, and the way they cautiously and lovingly they rubbed the back of his shoulder blades.  in all of xiaos years of guarding liyue, watching many people walk along the very land he protected, seeing many pleasing faces that he had shown no care for, he had never expected one to be the fault of the feelings he had never seemingly dealt with before. one to make him feel human, almost, showing him that any person, human or not, could learn to love. as if, that anything but humans felt that emotion, more or less understood it.  a question was not needed to know how the adepti was doing, nor did an answer need to suffice. after spending the time that they had with the male, seeing him come home with new scars and marks on his already tethered body, it was enough to understand how long those scars would stay with him.  resting a hand upon the fresh scars, you glance at xiao, who had trained his eyes on the abyss above the two. his hand shied away from yours, retreating to the home by his side.  “our scars hold meaning, yours show and hold such complicity that many would never understand -- sometimes, even i will never truly understand what you go through.” to this, xiao turned his ill gaze to his lover, curious of what else they had to say. though such words were often spoke amongst the morals he protected, he had yet to have one say such things to himself. never would he recover from his battles, his scars earning their place on the patches of skin he had, taunting him, but words of comfort from his lover would suffice and slowly take away the hurt that they held. “that takes away no meaning. no matter what you do, how many layers you wear to protect yourself from the blades colliding with your skin, you can not escape it. it is important to understand that, and while doing so, know that you can slowly heal from it.” you comfortingly reached towards xiaos hand, softly picking it up and bringing it to your lips. the feeling brought tingling sensations through his body, earning a slight shiver from so. “scars are horrible, but we all have some. they’re unavoidable. what matters is not how they were formed, but how we deal with it, and what we do from there on.” after letting go of the others hand, you raised yours slightly and brought to attention of the many that littered your own. it had been known to xiao that you had your own scars, but to his dismay and disappointment, he truly never understood how many you had. it made his heart sink, seeing how many of them were seemingly self inflicted -- he wondered why you would ever do such a thing to yourself, not understanding why mortals would hurt themselves, or how much could have lead themselves to the point to doing so. “whats the point in self loathing and wishing for better, if you won’t take steps in that direction? they’re apart of you, you can’t escape that, but you can give them meaning and make them worth seeing. my point is, you can’t hide it, don’t embrace them if you dont want to, but don’t let your scars define you. it’s a thing thats often said.., but as much as it is said, it still holds meaning. and you do not deserve to forever hold onto these things and only see them as bad, no matter where they are from, or how they were caused.” despite having multiple, loving occasions the both had shared that made their relationship ever so more beautiful, xiao felt himself grow even more attached to you, the coldness in his heart melting ever so slightly with each word you spoke. silence followed after the few words you spoke, making you begin to regret ever speaking up in the first place -- showing your vulnerable side, showcasing your own scars as if you had healed from them yourself.  “i’m sorry, i rambled on,” you admit, shame contorting your expression into a unsatisfied one.  though, unexpectantly, you felt a warmth engulf your body -- xiao replacing the cold breeze that comfortably sat between the gap. xiao had never been one to show his affection, finding small gestures more suitable for the feeling of love he had never fully understood. as days progressed, he began to find out more, finally beginning to realize that this what was love was. what was shown by mortals, the affection they gave each other on a day to day basis, it was only the surface; the surface being all that he knew, thinking it was just that. you had taught him that it was more than so, it was not just loving kisses and comforting hugs, it was the mutual understanding that no matter what happened, you would both be there for each other. to care for one another, to relic in the moments that would soon become history, and to cherish them as if there would be not another day to experience them. love was what you taught him, and until the day you left the day of the living, he would be sure to do what he could to show that -- even if all that he was capable of was muttering a small ‘i love you’, or giving you a hug if he could not find the correct words to show how much you meant to him. the grip he held on your shirt tightened, your arms intertwining with his to return the gesture. xiao nuzzled his face into your neck, eyes shutting tightly as he did so. a small smile formed on your lips, understanding that the other had appreciated what you said. “i love you,” xiao said quietly, breaking the small silence that had grown comfortable in the lap of your air. you could hear the slightly labored breathing escaping his lips, the warm air grazing your neck and dissipating each time he let another breath of air out. his warm body was pressed against your own, chest rising and falling until he soon calmed down. “i love you too, xiao.” in that moment, xiao’s repulsive and deprecating thoughts ceased, thinking of only you and the comfort you gave him. the silence from before returned, engulfing the area near, but this time, it was comfortable -- he could bask in your presence forever, especially in this moment. he couldn’t wish for anything better than you, in the life he had been given. although he was an adepti, prone to straying away from such putrid human feelings, he felt himself nearing acceptance of his want for such love to stay, more or less to stay beside him forevermore.  xiao was unable to be healed from the horrid fate at which he had been given, but little by little, he understood that not all was bad and he could one day learn not to hate it.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Pro hero Deku is asked a lot if questions about his love life (no he's not dating kacchan, no he's not dating shouto, no he's not dating ochako she's married what the hell) and at some point he decides to get himself a boyfriend just for it to stop. Fake ofc, but no one needs to know that. He just wants some peace and quiet.

But of course the questions dont stop, if anything they're starting to get worse, only his mom seemed so happy that hes dating someone and now he's committed damn it, and the stories keeps getting more elaborate and like, maybe this was a bad idea but he's in too deep.

And he's also sort of growing attached to his fictional boyfriend, cause he seems like a cool and competent dude, izuku would not mind dating him if, you know, he actually existed.

Plot twist: hizashi is always one to stay on top of hero news, he loves and lives vicariously through gossip with nemuri any chance be gets, so he definitely keeps track of all the clues deku gives about his secret boyfriend (bc the nr 1 hero having a secret boyfriend is Grade A Gossip, and hizashi is intrigued and yearns to know more) and it's all fun and games until hizashi starts to grow suspicious that he KNOWS this secret boyfriend, that he is BEST FRIENDS with this secret boyfriend, and why the hell hasn't shouta told hizashi personally??? How dare???

Oh oh yes yes this is perfect.

And it gets even better because of course Hizashi is gonna confront Shouta. Of course he is. Shouta’s breaking some sacred best friend rules by not telling him that he’s been dating the #1.  Like, Hizashi understands the want/need for some level of privacy, really he does, but surely he should be exempt from that. Bro Law and everything.

So of course this means Shouta gets a phone call at like 5 in the afternoon when he’s actually trying to get some sleep.

“SHOOOUUTTTAAAA,” Hizashi screeches down the line so loudly that, even though he’s laying down alone in his own apartment, Shouta can’t help the way his quirk activates on instinct.

“What.”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL MEEEE?” Hizashi sobs dramatically down the line.

“Probably because you always act like this,” Shouta huffs. “But I also have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m your best friend,” Hizashi prattles on.  “You could have at least told me, I can keep a secret you know?  I wouldn’t have told anyone, probably.”

“Hizashi,” Shouta breaks in.  “What. Are. You. Talking. About?”

“You’re Deku’s secret boyfriend!!” Hizashi announces victoriously. 

Shouta pulls his phone back enough to stare at the screen for a moment, brows furrowed, before he brings it back to his ear.

“Have you been kidnapped?” he practically barks the question out.

“W-What?” Hizashi sputters.  “NO! Sho what the hell?”

“What’s your safe word?” Shouta demands.

“Meatloaf,” Hizashi replies instantly. “Wh-”

“Are you trapped, currently bleeding out, injured, or in need of backup?” Shouta spits the questions out rapid fire.

“No, no, no, and no,” Hizashi answers back just as quickly. “I’m perfectly fine and at home, just wondering why my best friend hasn’t told me about his secret affair -”

Shouta hangs up.

Hizashi’s in no danger which means he doesn’t have to humor his ridiculous bullshit right now when he could be taking a nap.

His phone rings for the next ten minutes straight before Trash comes toddling into the room and curls up on top of it to go to sleep.

~~~

It doesn’t end there. Because of course it doesn’t.

Hizashi keeps badgering him about his supposed love affair with Deku of all people, the #1 hero Shouta’s never even met in person before.

Mainly he ignores Hizashi whenever he starts in on the topic or tries to badger him for detail that don’t exist.

But then...

Then it comes to a bit of a head when Shouta gets dragged out for drinks with Hizashi, Nemuri, and Tensei like they normally try to do every other week or so if possible.

Only this time they’re not the only pros at the dive bar they end up at.

Because Joke is there, because of course she is, because the universe officially hates Shouta.

Joke is an excellent hero, a good teacher from what he’s heard, and overall a nice person but Shouta only has enough spoons for a select group of people in his social life and sometimes even that’s pushing it.

Joke with her constant laughing, her attempts at comedy without her quirk involved, and her insistent need to constantly hit on Shouta is someone who drains him faster than should be possible.

Only this time it’s different.

They’re a few drinks in when Joke tries to slide her way into the booth beside him, a grin already stretching her mouth.

And while normally the others would just laugh and smirk and leave Shouta to suffer, this time Hizashi steps in.

“Yeah, no,” Hizashi slides the drinks he’d gone to collect onto the table and then shimmies his way in between Joke and the booth to steal the seat right beside Shouta instead.  “Seats taken.”

“Awwww,” Joke pouts, “don’t be like that.  Why’re you trying to get in the way of me and Eraser’s love story?”

"Find someone new to hit on, sweetheart,” Hizashi tips a look at her over his shades.  “Nemuri’s always free you know? Our Shouta’s a taken man now.”

There’s a sort of collective spit take around the table.

“What?” Nemuri croaks from where she’s trying to clean what looks like cream off of her face.  “Are you two ...?”

“Oh no, not us, we’ve told you that before.” Hizashi waves a hand in front of him with the ease of an argument they’ve all had more than once over the years.

“Then?” Tensei prompts.

Hizashi leans forward across the table, expression turning sly and secretive, the rest of the group leaning in as well, anticipation practically wafting off of them.

And Shouta immediately knows where this is about to go.

“Our Sho’s been keeping secrets,” Hizashi sing-songs.  “But honestly I can’t believe it took me so long to put it together when the clues were right there.”

“Get on with it man,” Nemuri orders.

“Our unkempt goblin friend is dating none other than the adorable and stacked force of nature that is our #1 hero Deku,” Hizashi throws his hands up in a ta-da sort of gesture.

For a long moment there’s silence.

And then every head at the table swings in Shouta’s direction all at once.

For a split second Shouta debates on nipping it in the bud, putting an end to this ridiculousness once and for all.  But then he stops, thinks about it, flicks a look towards Joke and quickly runs through the list of advantages having a fake SO could provide him with, and immediately course corrects.

“It’s a secret,” Shouta deadpans.  “We’re deeply in love.  Tell no one.”

Which, of course, means that by the time Shouta rolls out of bed the next afternoon everyone knows.

[ghostdrew22]

angst fic where ravenclaw!reader has thalassophobia and is playing with the water by the shore in the dark lake with the necklace draco gave her before they broke up a few years back when the new girl he’s been going out with throws the necklace into the middle of the lake in spite, and the reader cannot afford to lose it djeiwis sorry if it’s messy u dont have to do it ure uncomfyyy

Prompts:

If you die, I’m going to kill you.

Jump In || Draco Malfoy

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: ANGST, a bit of swearing, panic attacks and thalassophobia mentioned. Summary: Years after breaking up with Draco you find that the last gift he gave you is still the only thing comforting you, and his new girlfriend doesn’t like that.

WORDS : 3546

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

The crescent moon outside begs for your company and you oblige, preferring to be alone than stuck in a room full of people who pity you. You lift the bottom half of your dress from the ground and sneak out of the ballroom nonchalantly, anxiety dissipating as the soft breeze comes in contact with your face.

The sound of your heels clacking against the cobblestone fills the air as you walk toward the boardwalk hanging above the lake, and it reminds you of a time when Draco would bring you down here. The lake behind the Malfoy Manor has always been subject to your fear, and you rarely ever go toward it, but tonight you’ll do almost anything to feel alone and normal for once.

The tiny ripples forming on the surface send shivers running down your spine and you look up at the sky immediately in an attempt to subdue your anxiety. A few meters away lies the ballroom, full of dignitaries and old family friends of the Malfoy’s who attend their annually ball every time without fail, and you can hear the faint sound of laughter mixed with a beautiful crescendo. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and drag your fingers up to your neck to toy with necklace lying around it, as you try to imagine that you’re anywhere else.

You’d thought that it would be easier, coming to the ball and seeing him with his new girlfriend, but it had proved to be a bigger challenge than you’d anticipated, and residual feelings that you’d been trying to stuff down for months had resurfaced like anchors being pulled up from the bottom of the sea. It reminded you of what he said that day, “I’m yours forever, even if you’re not mine.”, and the only thing that stopped you from running back into his arms was the chain hanging around your neck.

A silver chain with a midnight blue sapphire dangling on its end, worth one of your arms and a gift from the blond himself. He had given it to you as a promise, one to love you till the sun stopped rising, and at the time you had thought that it was the perfect gesture. But reality hit and you soon realized that a life with Draco Malfoy would be one filled with envy and uneasiness, and you knew then that you both deserved more.

The necklace’s monetary value reminds you that Draco belongs to a long and esteemed family line which demands attention that you cannot cope with. But the fact that it had been his proclamation of love reminds you that in order for you both to lead happy lives, you must be apart. The way it gleams beneath Chandeliers is so captivating that it always brings you back to earth; a life with Draco is inviting, but some invitations mustn’t be accepted.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

All eyes instantly fell on him the second that he appeared; sporting that notorious smile which always brought people to their knees, and a priceless suit that hugged his figure so well it made all the straight men positively envious. A true Malfoy; charming, rich, attractive, easily the whole package. You didn’t get a chance to speak with him because he was instantly preoccupied with the ramblings of his mother as she dragged him around the room with pride, showing off the son that she’d done such a good job at raising.

Draco’s life had always been politics and he’d been raised to invariably stand tall, look presentable, get good grades, converse well. You watched him in awe every time, admiring the grace and ease with which he conducted himself. But it made you wonder when he’d been taught the art of letting the spotlight go, to focus all of his attention on the one he loves instead of the search for approval. And the answer was that he hadn’t, Draco never grew out of the desire to have everyone’s praise and approval.

‘If everyone loves you, if everyone wants to either be you or be with you, then you’ve succeeded.’ He’d told you late one night after one these balls. You’d looked at him with pity, not having the heart to tell him that love and validation are not synonymous, and you’d hugged him so hard that somehow you both knew it was all coming to an end soon.

He grew up being a magnet to both jealousy and admiration, a symphony of applause being the background track to the movie of his life, and he didn’t know how to live any other way. When all you’ve ever known is lustful stares from fellow peers, stolen glances at the back of your head, and unbridled acclaim masked behind attraction, then it’s hard to put that life behind and settle for the love of only one person.

Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush

He truly was magnificent though, even you couldn’t deny. Years ago, when he’d walked down the stairs in one of those clad black suits, he had met you at the bottom of the stairwell and you could’ve sworn that you were floating on cloud 9. He had smiled so brightly at the sight of you, had laughed so sweetly in the space of your ear, and fit so tightly into your side like it was a home made only for him, that you were intoxicated on the feeling of him and hadn’t noticed what was happening.

You were falling in love. You weren’t flying, no, you didn’t have wind beneath mystical wings that you’d somehow managed to grow. You were falling, and at a speed so treacherous that you didn’t even realise it was happening until it was too late. One day you were falling, and the next you were ruins buried so far into the ground that you couldn’t even tell where the earth stopped and you started.

Falling in love with him was fast, like a bullet train, but everything after was so slow that you felt as if you weren’t even moving at all.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominos I see me padding 'cross your wooden floors With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town we wandered 'round had never seen a love as pure as it And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause it could never be

Promises to run away together and start a life somewhere off in a distant town.

Fingertips, laced with the narcotic effect of young love, tracing lines across the expanse of each other’s faces and trying to figure out which of the other’s features would be inherited by your children.

Dreams about a time when your lives would no longer be dictated by the paths your parents had set out for you, but instead by the spontaneity and reassurance that came with endearment.

Tastes of tea replaced instead with the taste of each other as long-forgotten tisanes made home on bedside tables because you both got lost in the haze of tenderness.

Arguments about mundane and useless concepts that would go on for longer than necessary, because he insisted on disagreeing with everything, and always ended with your acute responses.

Lives that had once lacked passion, that had once been so dull they compared to Snape’s drawling, instead replaced with all the colours that the world had to offer.

It was the perfect life, the one you two had planned.

But it was too perfect to ever be real.

You take a deep breath and unhook the necklace to observe it once more, hoping that it’ll provide some comfort for the ache in your chest.

'Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush

“Y/N.” A voice slurs behind you.

You turn with furrowed eyebrows and roll your eyes when you see who it is, “Pansy.”

“Don’t be rude.” She hisses and hiccups as she stumbles toward you, “What are you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” You narrow your eyes at her, “Are you drunk?”

“Just a tad.” She replies as she hiccups again and finally stands before you. You watch silently as she gracefully sits on the wood below her, making sure not to create creases in her dress or fall over in her heels.

“Shouldn’t you be in there? On his arm like a trophy?” You ask, and inwardly groan when you hear how jealous you sound.

“Probably.” She shrugs and looks out into the water. “It doesn’t matter though, I’m not you.”

She looks up and into your eyes, you look away immediately. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that.”

“Yes, you do.” She states bluntly, “He told me why you left him. That was really selfish of you.”

You gasp and turn to look at her, “How dare you? You have no idea-“

“No, actually, I do.” She gets up from the ground swiftly as a fire rages in her eyes, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be like him? We’re the same, we were practically raised on the same blueprint. Despite what you think, there’s a lot more to the issue than what lays on the surface.”

“Oh and I guess you have all the answers?” You spit out with a scoff.

“I thought Ravenclaws were meant to be smart.” She shakes her head and hiccups as she turns to face the water, “Draco’s entire life has always just been this.” Pansy turns and gestures toward the Manor with a grimace.

“It’s always been about being the best in the room, just so that he can earn five seconds of approval from his parents. But you came, and you showed him more, you gave him a glimpse of what love feels like. Then, because you were scared and couldn’t hack it, you left him.” She continues and you grip the necklace tightly in anger.

“That’s not what happene-“

“How can you possibly expect him to come back to me, to this bullshit, when he’s experienced actual happiness? How is he supposed to come back from you?” She finally turns to face you and you hear a slight crack in her voice with the last words, “I love him so much and if I could make him half as happy as you do then I would.”

“You can.” You breathe out shakily, “If you two try a little more then you’ll realise why it just makes sense.”

“Love isn’t about sense Y/N. It’s not about appearances, it’s not about applause, it’s not about any of the crap that him and I were raised to prioritize.”

“You call it crap but that’s all he knows, and he just isn’t ready to give it all up.”

“Why do you get to decide that for him?” She tilts her head to the side and raises her eyebrows, you look away from her.

“I should probably get back inside.” You mutter as you start to turn toward the manor.

“You’re righ-“ She gasps and you turn to see what’s shocked her, “You still have it?”

“Have what?”

“The necklace.” She points to your hand and you nod awkwardly in agreement, “I helped him pick it out.”

“Oh.”

“A sapphire to match your virtue and faithfulness.” She says absent-mindedly as her eyes lock on the piece of jewellery. “Guess he got that wrong.”

She laughs coldly and you scrunch your face in confusion, “Excuse me?”

“You’re just like the rest of them.” Before you even know what’s happening she’s reached for the necklace in your hand, “You love him until it’s no longer convenient, until the paint starts to chip.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice comes out shaky and lacking conviction, it makes her laugh again in disgust.

“And then who has to pick up the fallen pieces? Me.” She continues to ramble as she walks toward the edge of the boardwalk, you feel your breathing start to pickup as you try to focus on her instead of the lake behind her. “As if I don’t have my own pieces to pick up.”

“Pansy, please just come here so we can talk about this nicely.” You respond and swallow.

“No. You don’t deserve a civil conversation.” She spits out as she finally reaches the edge of the boardwalk and hangs the necklace out by her arm, “In fact, you don’t deserve anything. You don’t deserve his love and you definitely don’t deserve this pendant.”

“No!”

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore

Everything after falling in love with Draco happened in slow motion. You don’t know how, or when, but your life had become a slackening slideshow of bad decisions.

You hold your breath as you watch the necklace fall into the lake. It’s as though minutes, hours, days pass in that moment, but you know that it’s merely a few seconds. When the splash finally sounds, you let out a huge gasp and Pansy laughs as she turns to leave.

Panic sets in and you start to contemplate your options. You could jump in and get it yourself? No, that’s absurd, you’re not going to overcome your fear that easily. You could rush into the manor and find someone who’s willing to get it for you? No, no one would take you seriously.

You shake your head and decide to just do the easiest thing; try and work up the courage to get it yourself. You start to pull off your heels and scrunch up your dress so that you can step into the water and you walk toward the edge of the boardwalk.

But as soon as you’re near the water you realise that you can’t do it and your panic rapidly worsens. You step back a few paces before falling to the ground and pulling your head into your knees as silent sobs begin to shake your core.

Breaths, in rapid beats, are going to and from your lungs as the sound of the water swishing fills your ears. Nausea begins to set in your stomach as you think more and more about your terrible predicament, your fear of bodies of water and your sadness at losing the necklace combining to form one indestructible lump in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N? Are you out here?” A voice calls out from a yard or two away and you try to recognize it, but everything is foggy in your state of trepidation.

“Shit, Y/N!” The voice calls out once more and you hear footsteps pick up to a run as the person approaches you. “I swear to Merlin, if you die I’m going to kill you!”

You realise that the person still hasn’t noticed you, and is probably assuming the worst, so you try your best to croak out a word- any word.

“Here.” You manage to rasp out between sobs and wheezes, and the person immediately runs toward you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” They ask as they pull your head out from your knees and you try to nod slowly.

You blink back a few tears and try to focus on the face in front of you, “The- the-“ You try to say and shake your head of the confusion as the words refuse to formulate.

“Hey, breathe princess.”

You recognize the nickname and then soon enough your eyes register that Draco’s kneeling in front of you. “Draco?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He responds softly as he cups your face in his hands and tries to wipe a few of your tears, “Take a few deep breaths for me, yeah?”

You nod and do as told, breathing until you finally calm down and manage to think clearly again. “I’m okay.” You breathe out and he sighs in relief.

“I was so worried, Pansy came in rambling about getting back at you and something about tossing and water- And I was just so scared that she’d thrown you in or something, because I know that you can’t swim and you’re terrified of the lake so I-“

“Hey, slow down, I’m okay. I’m right here.” You respond and manage a weak smile. He nods and sighs again. “She didn’t toss me into the water, though I think she would’ve liked to. She threw in the necklace. Shit! The necklace, it’s still down there!” You exclaim as you try to stand up but find that your legs are asleep, and end up coming back down instantly.

“Calm down. What necklace?”

“The one you gave me, the one with the sapphire that you said was a family heirloom?” You ramble and he furrows his eyebrows.

“You still have that?”

“Yes, I do. And it’s at the bottom of the lake and I need to get it back!” You stand up and Draco immediately does the same, placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you still.

“It’s just a necklace Y/N, you don’t need it.”

“It’s not just a necklace, it’s-“ You pinch your nose and sigh, “It just means a lot to me, okay?”

He narrows his eyebrows but nods in understanding, “Okay.” He steps back from you and pulls off his suit jacket, looking absolutely magnificent with his toned shoulders showing beneath the well-fitted shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to get it for you.” He shrugs and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to, I can figure something out.”

“You tried to figure it out and you had a full on panic attack, I’m the best option.” He says sternly as he looks at you and you nod in agreement, “Now just wait, very far away, and let me find it for you.”

“Thank you.” You call out behind him but he doesn’t respond.

At dinner parties I won't call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it 'Cause it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause it will never be

“Here you go, in perfect condition.” He says as he drops the necklace into your hands and runs a hand through his hair. He looks gorgeous and you look down to avoid getting lost in his eyes.

“Your suit is wet.” You mumble with a sniff and he chuckles, the sound makes your heart race.

“We have magic, I’ll dry up.”

“Thank you.” You whisper as you finally look up at him and he smiles, that same hypnotic smile. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without it.”

“It’s just a necklace Y/N.” He smiles softly and you shake your head as tears begin to stream down your face again.

“No, it’s not just a necklace.” You sniff, “It’s you and I. It’s all that I have left of the love that we had, it’s all that I have left of the life we were going to build together.”

“Y/N.” The sternness in his voice makes you swallow hard, but you pull your hand up to indicate that you’re not done.

“Let me talk, please.” He nods and you continue, “This little gem is all the words that we never had the chance to say. It’s the nights we would’ve spent climbing into bed together, in our little house that’s tucked safely into a small town. It’s the cups of coffee I was going to make you when you woke up in the mornings, and the cups of tea you would’ve made me when we went to sleep. This little gem is the only thing I have to remind me that our love was real.”

“It also doesn’t hurt that it costs a fortune huh?” He asks with a grin, despite the fact that there’s sadness in his eyes, and you nod with a choked out laugh.

“Definitely a bonus.” You say as you laugh a little more and wipe away a few tears.

Draco pulls the necklace out of your hands and opens it to put it around your neck once again, and you turn around so he can put it on. “Look, Y/N, life is too short to fill up with ridiculous mistakes. You left me, like I never mattered to you, and it broke me.”

You turn back around quickly, “That wasn-“

He twists you back around abruptly, “Let me talk now.” You nod and he continues to hook the chain around your neck. “It took me months to decipher what you meant when you said that I had too much love for the spotlight, that I didn’t have the capacity to let it go. It took me months to finally grasp what you meant when you said that people fall at my feet, that my contrarian demeanor is a crowd-puller. And the recognition hurt, a lot, because I realised that you we right about most of it.”

You feel his fingers leave your neck as he places a soft kiss on your shoulder, “What was I wrong about?”

He pulls you back to face him and smiles as he looks down at you, “The only thing you were wrong about was my unwillingness to let it go.” He pulls you into his arms for a hug, and you sigh in his arms.

“You can’t just leave this life Draco, we both know it isn’t that simple.” You muffle into his chest and the vibrations of his chuckles make you smile.

“That’s where you’re wrong angel, I can just leave this life. You never gave me the option but,” You pull apart and he smiles so wide that you think his face might come apart, “I would give it all up, for you.”

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

His eyes are shining as they look down at you with adoration and commitment, and it takes all the strength you have left inside to not pull him back into your arms. He brings his fingers up to the sapphire and rubs his thumb along it.

“It’s not all you have Y/N.” He pulls your chin up so you look him in the eyes, “I’m still right here.”

~~~

get added to my taglist 

taglist: @dracoscene @dreaming-about-fanfictions @astoria-malfcy @gwlvr @wh0re4blaise @marrymetheonott @dracomalfoyposts

~~~

hi lovies! guess who’s finally feeling good enough to write again! :) we’re going to ignore the fact that the FOOLWAG sequel is beating my ass though

I will not lie, I had a great time writing this, possibly one of my favourite requests by far. I was originally going to make the ending angsty but I figured  @evermoreeve (thx sweetie<3) reminded me that we all deserve a happy ending now and then.

anyway, i love you all,

jean <3

[miwtze]

mediocrity is a skill in its own right (sakusa kiyoomi x reader)

cw: insecurity in ones self, self hatred, depression yk the good stuff 😐 post time skip

wc: 1.2K 

notes: i dont ever edit anything so as per usual no beta i die like a bitch. 

you feel stupid. it’s another day past twelve when your body crumbles with exhaustion but your mind doesn’t allow you to rest. you can’t count the number of times you’ve stayed up attempting to shove the thoughts of inferiority eating away at your soul. the feeling of giving yourself up whole only to never be enough. after all no one wanted someone mediocre.

sometimes you wonder would what it would be like to be like sakusa, a person who cultivated a skill into a talent that’s become second nature. maybe if you stuck to one thing instead of throwing things at a wall to see what stuck you would feel more complete. you can’t find it in your heart to be upset at the sakusas of the world or even the hinatas of the world, who have been blessed with both talent and ambition. of which you have neither. you don’t have the desire to be something great, to be standing at the top, to be the sole messiah leading a legion of lost souls but you crave to anything, anything at all.

it was dizzying the amount of times you’ve tried to grow as a person only to be left with the fleeting sense of being just okay. maybe you were selfish for wanting more because technically being half way decent at anything is better than being dogshit at it. you wish you could hold on to the moments where you felt as though you had potential, to bottle it in a jar and let it build up but like sand in an hour glass it always seems to slip though.

you always find yourself telling yourself that if you can spend time feeling like this you can spend energy doing better. but you never do, instead you always find yourself curled into yourself letting the bubbles of insecurity trickle down from your eyes. you’ve gotten good at keeping quiet when you cry, never wanting to bother sakusa in his slumber who found it unpleasant to be disturbed by mundane things.

when you shuffle around to curl into sakusa you’re met with tired eyes looking down on you. you realize that everything that has can be given to you will always settle with dust no matter how hard you try to brush it away. at some point or another, becoming far too exhausting to clean up and way to dirty to keep around. it feels like lifetimes pass as you stare into each other completely unsure as to how to navigate the situation presenting itself on your queen sized mattress. eventually sakusa shifts, gesturing for you to sit up as he reaches over to turn the nightlight on. you wait with your palms folded over each other for something.

“you know you can talk to me right?” he seems uncomfortable, like words he wants to say aren’t the ones coming out of his mouth. “i know i’m not the most approachable person by any means but i don’t want you to be alone.” he’s words are gently, heartfelt. you can’t bring yourself to believe that someone would speak to you with such affection. “i know you don’t reach out when you need someone. i know you’ve been upset for a while i just didn’t know how-”

“it’s not your fault, omi. i didn’t want to be a burden is all.”you wanted to ease some of the tension you placed on him, but when you see his jaw clench, you realize you’re probably doing more harm than good. “i didn’t realize i was being so loud, i’m really really sorry i didn’t mean to make it hard for you.” he sighs opening his arms, you crawl into them with your heartbeat in your ears.

“that’s not the reason why it’s hard for me. i want to be able to support you the way you support me, but you’re about as emotionally constipated as me. fuck, actually you’re probably worse.” you giggle into his chest as he brushes through your hair. “i’m not a therapist or anything but i can always listen and comfort you.”

you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, the tears poking the corners of your eyes were threatening to spill into a whole new emotion. one that made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy even as your head tries to reel them them in convincing you that you didn’t deserve his love. “do you really want to know or do you want to go to sleep and your conscience won’t let you go to sleep without at least doing damage control.”

“babe if you’re going to be annoying the only thing my conscience is going to want to do is toss you out the window.”

“omi we’re on the first floor nothing will come of that.”

“no critical damage then.” he leans down to place a kiss on your lips, hovering over to rest his forehead on yours. “so what’s got your feelings all twisted?” you want to tell him it’s okay, that he should go to sleep, that he has practice in the morning but more than anything you want to let him into the dusty hallways housing your insecurities on picture frames that you can never seem to tear your eyes away from.

“you know like it’s kind of stupid.” he shakes his head, encouraging you to continue. “but i just, i don’t know, really want to feel fulfillment in the things i do you know? but for someone like me-” you’re crying again trembling in his arms as he coaxes you into spilling more. “-i can never really be anything more than just okay at something. and it’s hard because you’re so amazing, almost everyone around me is but i’m just some npc support character. i just wish i had more to offer because you deserve someone better and can-”

“i’m not sure where you got the idea that i am the one that deserves more when i know you offer the world and back to be when i can only give you myself, but rather than that i feel like-” he stops picking his next works carefully as to not unintentionally hurt your feeling. “-you’re spending more time comparing yourself and ultimately end up ignoring the little things that make you reason that you’ve become a pillar in my life.”

“but i’m so so just boring and normal.” he smiles down at you, brushing away your tears.

“you’re the only one that sees yourself that way. maybe you’ll always only see yourself as mediocre but i hope you know that people have define normal in different ways.” he pulls you down into bed placing you on his chest and securing you in his warmth as he continues. “you’re far more than normal. there really isn’t a word that can justify what you mean to me and how otherworldly you are.” he pauses. “maybe extraterrestrial?”

“omi you were doing so good.” it’s hard to hide the laughter spilling from your lips.

“what you don’t like katy perry?” but it’s much harder to ignore sakusa’s growing smile. 

[bloodycassian]

** PT 2 Azriel x reader - enemies to acquaintances PT 2. ** - reader gets a backstory, they clear another enemy camp together and bond more. Azriel apologizes. 

Slight TW for violence/domestic abuse mention. Trying to keep reader as genderless as possible but sometimes I inherently switch to using woman POVs- asks still very open ;)

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

"It seems I owe you an apology." Rhys began, pacing at the end of the makeshift bed the healers had set up for you. Your stomach rolled with nerves. His tone was not genuine, and you could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. The healers buzzing nearby suddenly found different things to do.

 Azriel and Cassian stood at the edge of the canopy, the drizzle of rain making their armor shine. "Azriel informed me of your injury- I'm impressed with your bravery." He smiled, his dark eyes making him look like a snake. 

You glanced to the shadowmaster, who nodded the slightest amount. "Did you receive my message from him?" You asked, and when he had a genuine wide grin - showing almost too many teeth - it gave you chills.

"I did in fact. I wish the same to you." He said with that deadly calm. Cassian tried to hide his laugh, Azriel remained stonefaced. "Let's take this to the war tent. Whenever you are...suitable." he glanced to your wing, still stained with crusted dry blood. 

You felt your cheeks heat slightly, and nodded. He strode out from the healers canopy and into the rain without a look back. The generals followed him, Azriel glancing back to you only for a second. 

+

Once you had mustered the strength to get out of the cot, you thanked your healers. They insisted on giving you healing potions before you departed. And tried to get you to promise to come back for a check in daily. Mobility tests, stretches and strength building. You gave them loose affirmations and took the potions without putting up too much of a fight, given that the wing still ached slightly. Two days of rest had done a lot for the healing process, but it would take at least a week before it was fully healed. 

The short walk to the war tent was cold as the mist of rain poured down. Many of the soldiers were inside or drunkenly asleep in the mud. Sitting around and waiting was not an ideal situation with a thousand males ready to fight all around. 

You pushed open the tent, shaking out your jacket on the pelt rug. Earning a scowl from the high lord, seated at the head of the table again. "This one tells me you were a sight to see in the skirmish." He said, gesturing to the shadow master. 

You glanced to Azriel, his face was blank but his cheeks had gone a duskier shade of brown. "But maybe I took that the wrong way, and what he meant was that you were a disaster, considering someone managed to put a hole in to your wing." He laced his fingers together in front of him. You curled your lip at him, ready to tell him to get his ass out there and do it himself then. 

Before you could, Azriel turned to the high lord, opening his mouth to protest but he was quickly silenced by Rhysand's dagger like eyes. The shadowmaster pressed his full lips together tightly. Looked to his feet, as if in shame. It made your head thrum with adrenaline filled rage. Rhysand - the most powerful high lord in history - coudlnt get off his ass to take care of some second class Attors himself? Perfect. Just your luck. Being hired out like the hundreds of your kind before you, only it was worse because you weren’t even getting any gold from it.

"We now have a bigger force than originally planned coming directly at us." He said softly, a dark wind organizing enemy pawns on the table to show where they spread out. how they had your forces stuck against a wall of mountains.

 "Because you were brave enough to somehow miss the group of Attors flying away..." He glared those snake eyes at Azriel again, then Rhys let out a bitter laugh. He was upset, understandably so. You could admit that. But it wasn't your fault he decided not to believe you in the first place. 

You glanced to Azriel. His face was grave as his high lord tore into both of you with a tone of a disappointed parent. Like your parent. The thought of your father made your jaw clench, your teeth grind together as you fought to not begin screaming at Rhysand.

"The two of you will see to it that this is taken care of." He took a breath, gesturing to the pawns on the table. "There is a ravine to the west of here-" His dark gifts had the pawns lifting in the air. A fist of fear clenched your stomach. You had forgotten just HOW powerful he was.

"If you cut off the bridges their advancement will be paralyzed. We then may be able to regroup and massacre our way through this group here-" He pointed to the north, a smaller force lay there. Without the flanking force able to be a threat behind you it would work. Your strategist mind flushed out the plan.

 "I expect you both to fix this - as you both caused this issue. I want it done before dawn comes." The pawns he held in the air turned to dust on the table, making a neat pile before the dark lines that indicated the ravine. Hitting his point home, in a non subtle way you supposed. Arrogant cock of a high lord.

"It will work, Rhys." Cassian said softly. He glanced to Azriel. His eyes were pinned to your wing. Your stomach flipped, you glared at Rhys. Before you could call out his plans' faults - or how terribly he was treating you and your considerable 200 units in his army- you saw Cassian shaking his head slightly at you. He rested a hand on Rhys' shoulder. The gesture stood out. The cocky high lord had a sensitive side, perhaps. Your lip curled at the thought.

As if sensing your disgust with him, Rhysand's lip curled "Now get out." He said, voice low and gravely. Cassian gestured for you and Azriel to follow him out. Rhysand reminded you so much of your own father it made you want to spit. A territorial, abusive cock without enough dignity to spare your family name.

You took a deep breath of cold air, hoping to clear your mind. It did little to shake the tension in your shoulders, or the stiffness in your jaw. Making a mental checklist of the weapons you needed to bring, you noticed Azriel following you. Or seeming to.

The shadow singer stalked past your tent, going to the west where the bridges were. "What are you doing?" You asked, jogging to catch up with him. He was already fording through the tall shrubs and grasses by the time you caught up. 

"Taking care of it. I can fix it myself." He growled. You tried to keep up with him, but the jostling was upsetting your injury. 

You put a hand on his shoulder, "Wait, hey." He shrugged you off, scoffing to himself. "I should have gone alone in the first place. I dont understand why he had to send you." He muttered, stalking deeper into the forest. The rain didn't reach you here, under the darkening shadows and mist.

Rage erupted inside you at his words - and you called out the only thing you could think of that might stop him. If he wanted to fight he could damn well stop and have an actual fight with you. "I guess you are just like all the other Illyrians after all." Your blood rushed in your ears, seeming to dampen the sound of everything. The dull hiss of the rain hitting the trees above was barely audible. 

He stood rigid, wings flaring over his shoulders, growing larger with the shadows writing around them. "Do you even have a clue what real Illyrians would do to you right now if you were talking to them like this? What a normal male would do?" He was close. Too close for comfort. Too close to not be fighting or fucking. 

"Considering my father was a very real Illyrian, yes" He stuttered at that. You'd never seen him do such a thing. It would have been funny if that angry set of his features didnt come back. You were ready for more fighting, more yelling but his face went slack, and his eyes met yours finally. They were no longer the cold dark color like in the tent with Rhysand. They were a hazel that matches the warm colors of pine bark in summer. Your heart clenched at the sight of it.

"You're like the Peacemakers, then." He muttered, referencing the old tales of mighty warriors with mixed breeding. Unfortunately a lot of that breeding was not willing. It usually never was, and it had ruined two generations of Illyrian and Peregyn pairings. "Axios was always my favorite." He smiled at the memory. You bit your lip, remembering the true stories of each hero. Not the bastardized verisons peddled throughout the realm.

The offspring became ostracized and cast out of most communities. On Prythian and on the continent. The ones who survived long enough to become trainable though were given the name Peacemakers for a reason. Known for hired bloodletting, no questions asked. 

"I hope your end is not met like theirs." He seemed to shudder at the thought. All the anger boiled out of you at his concern. 

You felt the shame begin to creep up around you. You had sold your services to make ends meet at times. It always left you with a sickening feeling in your gut after. As if the Mother herself was disappointed. "You can help that not happen." You said softly, voice barely audible. If you weren't so deep into the forest you doubted even his shadows could have heard you. "I need.. I need to find my father." Your voice trembled, he approached you slowly. Like he was approaching a wild animal. 

"It might seem-" He began coaxing, holding a hand out to you. Just like he had the other night. A question, a temptation. 

"I know your pain, shadowsinger." You took his hand, letting him lead you to a fallen tree. The soft moss growing on it was a welcome seat after walking for so long following him into the woods. "He would beat my mother and would pluck her feathers." You were grateful for your mother every second she put into resisting his influence for you. For keeping him at bay until you grew enough to be sent to the Peregryn camps for training. She never revealed your cross breeding, only that you had your wings and could use them well. Only because she had taught you. 

Azriel was quiet for a long moment, his shadows moving slowly like waves around your ankles together. "I'm - sorry.. .about your mother. I didn't know." He whispered, pausing and cursing to himself. "I can help you find him. We can look, but we need to get through those enemy lines first. I need you to help me do that." He grasped your hand lightly, as if asking.

 "Lets slice some attor, I guess." You sniffed, the cold making your nose run. At least, you blamed it on that.

+

The camp was mostly asleep by the time you got there. Under the cover of nightfall you were able to silently end most of the Fae that lurked in the camp. With everything going so smoothly, your heart lurched at the sight of Azriel falling backwards, a calling horn in his hand. His siphons flared, and it shattered. But left his siphons dull. He winced as he rolled out of the winging range of a fellow Illyrian with a flail in one hand and a mace in the other.

"Traitorous bastard." Azriel grappled with the Illyrian commander, but they were evenly matched. They knew all the same moves, sparring and sword wise. You launched yourself through the scattered bodies lining the clearing, dodging over puddles of blood and forgotten weapons. The commander had Azriel in a hold that had his wings flipped outward, and the male took the opportunity. He pressed his boot against Az's back and pulled them backward, bending them father than was natural. You roared, not bothering to waste the time to draw your weapon. 

You barreled into him, Azriels hands still reaching backwards to claw at his hands. He toppled over a stack of bodies, yanking you down with him. You scrambled away from him, hands clambering for any weapon. By the time you turned back around to face him, Azriel had already put him on his knees before you. Bending the males wings back just as he had done to the shadow singer.

Your borrowed blade went through his throat, pinning him to the ground as he kneeled. He looked like a statue in the position.  

You spat on the body. "Dont touch wings, asshole." You muttered. Azriel stared at you, as if in shock. You picked up a better looking sword from the ground nearby, wiping it on the cloth inside of your armor sleeve. "What?" You asked. Azriel seemed stunned silent. He seemed shocked in place. After you were sure there were no rogues readying to flee or informants spying, You took a breath, returning to him where he still stood beside the body of the commander.

You pointed back at the winged body speared to the ground behind him. Smiling, you titled the pose. "A prayer to the mother." His eyes went somehow even wider. 

Then he broke out in laughter. You couldnt help but join him, the high of battle making you both delirious. You laughed at his laugh, the stupid face he made laughing back at you. Laughed at the half spoken words that were cut off by more breathless giggles. 

Your sides ached by the time you both sat around the enemy fire, enjoying their spoils of war from a nearby town. The roasted duck smelled particularly good. Azriel heated a pot of tea over the coals, throwing in fresh pine needles from a tree nearby. 

"You know-" He handed you your cup of tea. It was warm in your palm, but his hands were still somehow hotter than the boiling water. He blew on his cup, the steam not going much farther than what his shadows allowed. They seemed to almost play in it. "I am sorry about your mother. I understand why you regard some of us with such...distaste." He put the lid back on the pot and took it off the fire. He looked so natural doing...normal things. Not just posturing for his court and killing. 

You nodded in thanks, not needing too many words with him. "She fled the week after I was formally invited to train in the Peregryn ranks. He found her, and killed her for leaving him. My court holds no rules against such things. He hasn't suffered for it." Your voice shook at the end. "Yet, that is. This.." You gestured to the battlefield, the bodies behind you. "This is just along the way. Killing him will be my destiny. My retribution for my mother." You sipped your tea, letting the burn of it sink in. You hoped it would warm your insides.

"I miss my mother as well." He said, taking a gingerly sip of his tea. He stretched his wings, you could tell by the hesitant way he folded them back in that they pained him. You made a mental note to give him one of your healing potions when you returned to camp.

You sat in silence with him until that fire burned out, and only dull coals were left.

+

"I'm glad you both seemed to have fun. Is the camp clear?" Cassian hissed, following you to the war tent. You sipped your mead, nodding. "Yes, oh strategic one. The bridges are cut too, courtesy of yours truly." You winked at him, making him stop in his tracks. Azriel patted him on the shoulder without a word, then followed you into the tent where Rhys waited. Wrathful or not, you knew he had no rights to tell you off this time. 

Azriel's hazel eyes met your own as you entered the tent together.

[delimeful]

(dont) take this the wrong way (6)

warnings: misunderstandings, trauma responses, illness

-

Patton and Roman went in circles for a moment on who should carry Logan, eventually settling on Patton, since Roman was the quicker between the two of them and they were alarmingly unsure of what the small mer was planning— or how negatively that plan would affect the little guy.

Roman couldn’t help but be a little jealous anyways at the sight of the human pressing his tiny face against the palm of Patton’s hand, still mostly unconscious despite the jostling. It was unfairly adorable, and he never got to hang out with humans that weren’t terrified or fled at the sight of him.

Logan had started off scared too, sure, but after they’d cleared that little misunderstanding up, the human had shooed him away with an itty bitty stern look.

He’d listened, of course, he certainly owed these two that much, but internally he was gleeful at how bold Logan was when hanging out with them. Maybe he’d even come back and they’d learn more of his language and he could needle the nerd into telling him more about surface life—!

But of course, that required that he get better first.

It seemed obvious now, with the feverflush to his skin and the subtle tremor even as he slept, but the signs were so tiny on him, they might not have noticed for ages yet. He was inordinately grateful that the little mer had brought it to their attention, even if it also meant learning just how lowly the little guy thought of them.

When they returned from the air room, the tiny mer hadn’t twitched from his spot, though he looked as though he wanted to vibrate right out of his skin.

Agonizingly, he only seemed to get more stressed at the sight of Patton’s cupped hands, gaze darting between them for a moment before he flitted forwards and pressed an earfin to the makeshift airseal, staying in place only long enough to catch the sound of Logan’s little raspy breaths.

Roman opened his mouth, arms sliding up to gesture, and the tiny mer shot all the way back across the room like quicksilver. He had a moment to realize that with that speed, they’d never have ‘caught’ him in the first place if he hadn’t been trapped by that net, and then he felt immensely guilty for clearly spooking the little guy.

“How about you lead the way?” he asked, trying to distract their flighty little friend before he started tearing hair out. “The exit is one cave down, we’ll follow to wherever you think is the best place.”

He was shaking his head before Roman even finished. “No, I’ll follow, you— whoever stole him, you have to take him back to that beach. You remember... right?”

Roman turned to glance at Patton, who nodded firmly. “I’ll get us started then, kiddo.”

He cradled his cupped hands to his chest and swam deeper, easily twisting through the exit tunnel into the open ocean. Roman nodded at the little mer and followed, hoping that the little guy wouldn’t just vanish.

Only a moment later, he flitted out after them, and Roman caught the desperate longing that crossed his expression for a moment at the sight of wide open terrain. It vanished after a single glance at Patton’s cargo, replaced by a grim scowl.

If it weren’t for the human, Roman had the feeling that the mer would have turned and vanished, too quick and small for them to ever see again.

Instead, he hovered carefully out of lunging reach as they traveled, watching their every move with narrowed eyes. Every unconscious twitch of Patton’s hands seemed to make him flinch in response, as though he was expecting something horrible would happen to the human at any moment.

Normally, Roman would have been quite offended about this implied slight against Patton’s character, since his friend was just about the gentlest guy he knew. With circumstances what they were, however, he remained silent. He knew that this wasn’t really a reflection on Patton, but rather someone else entirely, a phantom presence that was still haunting the small mer.

Roman let out a breath of relief when they finally resurfaced, a human beach visible nearby. Patton unfolded his hands as soon as they were above water, and they both peered nervously down at the human.

“He doesn’t look like he’s gotten any worse,” Patton murmured, angling his hands so their small tagalong could see as well. “This is fairly close to the beach I found him at!”

“It seems the early hour has served us well,” Roman added, making sure not to gesture as he usually would. “There doesn’t appear to be anyone else around. Should we set him on the beach?”

The tiny mer jolted when he realized that they were both looking to him, flitting back and forth in nervous motions. “Uh, yeah— Yes. But be careful. And make sure you put him high enough that the tide can’t drag him back.” He continued in an undertone, “With his luck, it’ll be ages before another human appears.”

“I’ll do it!” Patton announced, already pushing forwards to shallower waters. “Roman’s likely to beach himself if he goes too far inland, and that’s shore to make things difficult!”

Roman groaned, flicking his fingertips at the siren. “That was one time! One-time incidents don’t qualify for pun-based bullying!”

Patton’s muffled laughter got quieter as he shifted to lay vertically, scooting forwards until his chest was scraping the sand and his arm could extend to set Logan gently against the beach incline. Logan’s head lolled to the side, but he seemed unlikely to go anywhere, and was in plain sight of anyone passing by.

Roman glanced down at the tiny mer, who was staring over the waves at the human, finally looking a little less stiff and stressed.

Patton wiggled back until he could tread water upright again, sharing a little cheer with Roman at a successful quest. Their guest’s tension returned immediately, that little shadowed gaze snapping back onto them.

Roman and Patton exchanged a glance, uncertain of how to proceed, but before anyone could speak, they heard a small, hacking cough.

Logan was awake, just a little too late for him or Patton to say goodbye. He probably wouldn’t have understood, but it would have been nice anyhow. Roman watched as he rolled to something resembling upright, his limbs trembling weakly. He was looking back and forth, not just noticing the new decor, but searching.

Roman glanced down to the small mer, who had set his shoulders and continued looking firmly away from the beach. He sunk a little lower in the water, trying to make eye contact. “Would you like to go and say goodbye before he leaves? Or, tell him what’s going on, perhaps?”

He shook his head once, sharply, and Roman felt a little pang of sympathy at the way his ear fins kept angling back at every noise the human made.

Logan was calling out now, the same word repeated at increasing levels of urgency. “Virgil?”

The mer still refused to glance back. “I’m not breaking the deal. You upheld your half, and you’re going to keep upholding it, and I’ll uphold mine. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’d drifted closer to Roman as he spoke, but it didn’t feel like any sort of progress. He’d tucked all those extra flares and frills away, smoothing himself down as though he was calm— or resigned.

Roman glanced up at the beach, where Logan still called. As he listened, that little voice cracked midword, desperation slowly turning to despair. He moved to cup his hand underneath the little mer, his heartstrings pulling at the way he let out a slow, shaky breath and closed his eyes, even as Roman lifted him up from the ocean entirely.

Patton opened his mouth as if to speak, but Roman met his eyes and shook his head, promising with his gaze alone that he knew what he was doing. His friend glanced down at the little guy worriedly, but held his tongue.

With one strong push, Roman slid up to the beach’s edge, grimacing slightly as the water became shallower and shallower. His arms were longer than Patton’s, though, and so he had little trouble reaching over and depositing his handful of seawater & tiny mermaid directly next to Logan.

“Virgil!” the human said, relieved, and he reached out to latch onto the mer, confirming Roman’s name suspicions.

‘Virgil’ had yelped like a baby seal upon being upended onto the beach, and he was now blinking between Roman and Logan with an air of extreme bewilderment.

“Virgil,” Logan said again, now in a very different tone. He wore a tiny, furious expression as he launched into what sounded like a somewhat-feverish lecture. He also reached over and pulled the mer into a hug, confirming Roman’s ‘he had no idea Virgil was going to pull this’ suspicions.

Roman was so right about so many things today. Everyone should listen to him all the time!

He wriggled back a little, intending to give them some privacy to talk, and made absolutely no progress. Uh oh. He glanced down at the others.

“I am just a little bit, slightly, somewhat, completely beached again,” he told them, his face growing hot. “I hope you two appreciate that I did this even though Patton is absolutely never going to let me live this down.”

“Need me to reel you back in, kiddo?” Patton called, right on cue. Roman sighed, planting his face in the crook of his elbow for a moment.

“Just a moment,” he called, and then met Virgil’s wide eyes from over Logan’s shoulder. “It seems like there’s still much for you both to discuss, my undersized acquaintances. We shouldn’t stay so close to land for long, but I imagine you’ll feel better if you keep him company until someone comes for him, right?”

Logan’s brief spark of energy seemed to be flagging, but every time Virgil attempted to disengage from the hug, he clung on tighter. After a brief moment of hesitation, Virgil conceded to the clinginess and simply nodded at Roman, still half-braced for something awful.

Roman gave him his most reassuring smile. “Then that’s what you’ll do. You know where to find me or Patton, if you need us!”

“Really?” Virgil asked, hands fisting in the back of Logan’s shirt. “You’ll let me-- you’ll leave us alone? Just like that?”

Roman nodded, lips twisted in sympathy. “Just like that.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, fins flattened against the sides of his head-- and then he took a deep breath, loosened his grip just slightly, and nodded back.

[krxideprnz-archive]

I feel a big amount of guilt from asking this but can i request a Sub!Toji x Dom!Reader where Toji’s legs and arms are cuffed to the bed, he is blindfolded and we are basically trying out different toys on him and edging him every time he is about to cum, then pegging the shit out of him and overstimulating him 😍 I feel like this is too complicated so if you dont want you you dont have to do it

Hey hun 🥰 thank you for requesting! I love me some good old Toji smut ✨ and a big apology, I didn’t really mention the blindfold 😭 I hope it’s still alright-

Sub! Toji x Dom! Reader

This includes content not suited for minors

Includes - orgasm denial/pegging/use of toys/petnames

Muscular arms and legs were chained to the bed, completely restricting the man under you from moving the way he wanted to, watching you hover above his naked body.

Toji wasn’t exactly the man who gave up control easily, but something about you- the way you spoke and behaved, the way you looked at him-

He was completely wrapped around your finger.

You ordered him to lay on the bed?

He did it.

You told him to strip for you?

He didn’t hesitate.

Even though he growled and protested when you chained him to the bed, you could see him grow with arousal, a faint blush coating his cheeks when he caught you smirking at his current predicament.

“So, honey, let’s get to the point, shall we?” you addressed the elephant in the room, gesturing to a big box placed next to Toji’s body on the bed, but the man underneath you didn’t answer, he only kept staring at you with his resting frown. “Answer me when I’m talking to you, fucking brat” you spat squeezing the sensitive flesh of his nipples as to further prove your point.

He sucked in a sharp breath at the stinging sensation before answering “Yes- fuck just do it!” He hissed and you let go of him, instead directing your attention to the box.

“I bought some things I want to try out on you, Toji~ I’m sure this is gonna be fun for the both of us” you licked your lips and grabbed the first item, a item he was kind of familiar with from his earlier days, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

In your hand was a realistic looking fleshlight that you hovered in front of his face. A grin was etched on your features as you observed his expression and how he couldn’t seem to look you in your eyes.

“Let’s start with this” you decided and grabbed his dick to guide it inside of the toy, engulfing the entirety of his length with it.

With your hand wrapped around the fleshlight, you moved it up and down his dick, the intricate walls of the toy dragging and squeezing around him.

“Hngh-“ he swallowed hard at the pleasuring stimulation on his length, tightly squeezing his eyes shut. Your other hand caressed his lower abdomen, tracing and feeling his muscles move under your touch.

Your other hand squeezed the toy tighter around him, altering between the pressure to draw the most sounds out of him.

His limbs struggled against the restraints as he let out a strained groan- he was close.

You could see the way his breathing got heavier, mouth hanging open to let out his pleasured sighs.

Stopping your movements completely, you quickly removed the fleshlight and watched Toji’s face contort in frustration.

“C-come on! I was so close- ngh!“ his sentence was interrupted by you pressing a wet kiss to his leaking tip. “We haven’t tried all the toys yet~ you’ll have to be patient” you spoke, warm breath fanning over his erection.

Tossing the toy aside, you grabbed the next item from the box- a bright pink vibrator.

“I think you’ll like this one..” you pressed it to his nipples as you turned it on, stimulating the sensitive buds. “Last time you came so fast when we used this” you sighed, running the vibrator further down his chest before coming to a halt right before his aching length.

“shut up” he mumbled, looking at the wall next to the bed in embarrassment.

“Behave, or I won’t let you cum at all, whore” his cock twitched at your harsh words, and you pressed the vibrator to the base of his dick.

“M-mhh! Fuck..”

You moved down to lick and press wet kisses to his red tip, while you kept the vibrator moving on the base of his length.

Licking a long stripe on the underside of his dick you savored his blissful moans and his desperate thrashing against the bed.

He’d give anything to tangle his hands in your hair and push you down until you were taking him completely- oh but he couldn’t- and it was driving him insane.

“P-please- f-fuck! ah!” You sucked on his tip before releasing him from your mouth and moving the toy away.

You laughed at his needy whines and curses. “What did I tell you, Toji? Patience~”

His breathing started to normalize, his cock still leaking with precum, red and desperate to be touched.

The next toy you picked was a dildo, along with a tube of lube to prepare him for the unfamiliar sensation.

“Fuck no” he hissed, watching you snap the bottle open and put a generous amount of lube on your fingertips.

“Fuck yes” you spoke with a smile, pressing your digits against his hole. His hips involuntary bucked against your hands, pressing your fingers deeper inside of him.

Toji could feel your fingers bend inside of him, stretching him out diligently.

“A-ah! Shit-“ his head fell back, hands clenching around nothing, desperately trying to keep his moans in check. But it was no use when you removed your fingers, his walls clenching around nothing as he let out a needy whine.

“Shhh, honey. I’m gonna take care of you” you kissed the inside of his thighs, leaving some red marks to remind him of this night the next few days.

Pressing the toy to his hole, you carefully pushed it in, stretching him out even further than before.

“W-wait! Fuck- ngh!” His back arched of the matress, angling the toy to a sensitive spot inside of him. You started to move the dildo slowly, aiming for the spot that made him cry out in bliss.

Each drag along his walls forced a moan out of his throat, you kept on hitting that one spot inside of him- that one spot that made him see stars- and he couldn’t get enough of it.

The pleasure was clouding his mind, he was loosing himself in the new sensation, giving up control and letting you pleasure him the way you wanted.

“(Y/N)...! Now- no! p-please!” He cried out as yet another orgasm was denied, leaving him hanging once again. He felt like he was going to cry out of sheer frustration any second now.

“This is gonna be the last one, Kay?” You pressed a kiss to his lips, wich he hungrily met, tongues tangling and swallowing each other’s groans and sighs.

“I’m getting desperate to see you loose yourself too..” you whispered against his lips and sat back to grab the last item- a strap on.

Watching you step into it and sauntering back to the bed felt like time was moving in slow motion to him- anticipation bubbled in his chest as he was unable to hold his whines in any longer.

“-need you.. now!” You removed his restraints and ordered him to roll over on the bed on all fours. Like the obedient man he was, he did without asking, nice and ready for you to take him.

You steadied yourself behind him, teasing the tip of the toy against his puffy entrance before entering him.

“A-ah!!” His eyes watered and his face pushed into the pillow underneath him to muffle his cries.

Starting to move inside of him, you heard the headboard bang against the wall with each hard thrust, only adding to the lewdness of the obscene moans and cries he let out.

You grabbed his hair to yank his head up. “Let me hear how good I’m fucking that tight ass of yours!” your thrusts became increasingly faster, still aiming for his sensitive prostate.

The way you were manhandling him turned him on even more, moans spilling from his lips continuously.

His juices dripped onto the sheets, forming a wet spot under his trembling body. Every touch of your hands on his skin felt like fire, every noise you let out sent a shiver down his spine.

He was truly drowning in pure bliss, and his incoherent cries of your name told you as much.

Your continued thrusts made him clench around the toy as he let out a breathy moan, hips moving in rhythm with yours to match your movements. Every time you hit his prostate it brought him closer to his climax, his fists were clenching the sheets.

“Fu-cking- close! gah-!” Drool was pooling in his mouth, fighting back the urge to cum right then and there.

“Since you’ve been good, I’ll allow you. Cum like the needy whore you are, Toji!” you yanked his head up once more as a breathless cry escaped his lips.

“A-ah! Shit! Shit! (Y/N)-“ ropes of cum hit the bedsheets under Toji’s shaking body as you fucked him through his high before his body collapsed onto the bed.

You pulled out of his puffy hole, moving to gather the used toys to properly clean them and prepare a warm bath for Toji’s tired body.

In the other room, the man was still coming down from his intense climax, in disbelief how much he enjoyed you taking control.

As he heard you humming next door, he covered his eyes with his arms.

The things you did to him...

[gamerwoo]

[SVT Imprinted] Chan: Pup

Anonymous asked: Hey I saw that Chan hasn’t been requested for your imprinted series yet so can I request him pls? Something angst smut with a fluffy ending if I may?

Characters: Chan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, angst but not a lot tbh, kinda fluff ig???, smut (it’s not too in depth tho, dom!chan, implied overstim, unprotected sex but he pulls out [but also still use protection duh], kinda angry sex)

Word count: 2,522

Summary: You didn’t know a lot about werewolves considering Minghao told you about them when you were pretty tipsy at a college party while the two of you were supposed to be playing Seven Minutes in Heaven. But what you do know is that the wolf in his pack that has imprinted on you is too young for your taste.

a/n: the reader is written to be older than chan so if that’s a problem for u uhhhh idk dont read this ig lmao

Tags: @psshwa​ @uglyratlmao​ @brokenbutchocolate​ @shra-vasti​ @killcomet​​

Unable to tag: @junuoyi

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It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that the youngest of Minghao’s pack had imprinted on you. Well, it would’ve taken a rocket scientist to get you to notice when you were only coming over for emotional support for your new friend, but after you finally started paying attention to something other than Hao, you’d seen the obvious signs.

And felt them.

The pack teased him about it constantly, telling him their ‘little puppy is growing up’ which would make him frown and insist he was an adult. Which, yes, he was, but…you were still older. You were his elder, and the idea of dating a younger boy made you a bit uncomfortable. You normally dated people your age or older, but that was just your preference.

You had explained this to Chan once when he was following you around the house like a child, grinning at you like you’d brought him home a box of kittens. You had to sit him down at the kitchen table and explain that you weren’t into younger people. His face had fallen for a moment, but then he regained his composure.

“You know what, that’s fine. I can prove that I’m just as mature,” he swore before standing up and marching away with more drive in his eyes than you’d ever seen.

But you still doubted he could change your mind, pull or no pull.

So began the next few weeks full of cheesy gestures, lots of longing stares, and Chan appearing out of nowhere to carry your books and backpack for you. While you were definitely flattered, you couldn’t help but continue to see him as just the pup of the pack. You didn’t tell him this, as you felt bad for the poor kid, but he could see in your eyes that you weren’t convinced.

It was definitely starting to get to him.

“What am I supposed to do?” Chan groaned out of frustration when he’d gotten home from a late class one night. His hands were gripping his dark hair, tugging angrily at the strands. “It’s not like I can suddenly age myself up for her! How come Yoona went for Minghao? Not only is he younger than her, but she had a mate already!”

Minghao just shrugged in response, holding the girl in question in his lap, his arms around her. Jun, who had his hand in hers, looked up at her and chuckled, shaking his head.

Aya sighed, brushing hair out of her face, “Chan, she can’t ignore the pull forever.”

“Well can we get to the part where she just falls for me?” he whined, laying back into the couch and slowly sliding onto the floor. “This is torture!”

“Tell me about it…” Joshua muttered.

“Everything will work out,” Seungcheol assured Chan before glancing over at Joshua, “for both of you.”

“How do you know that, though?” Chan wondered, still groaning as he covered his face with both hands.

“First of all, you’re being over dramatic,” Eunmi informed the youngest wolf, coming into the room to sit on the arm of the chair her mate was sitting in.

Seungcheol glanced at Eunmi before turning back to the dark-haired wolf laying on the floor now, “She’s right. But besides that, you should just believe in me; I’m your alpha.”

“So?”

“So I know what I’m talking about.” he scoffed. “What do you mean, ‘so’?”

“Since she doesn’t come over as often,” Juri began, “why don’t you invite her over for dinner?”

Chan removed his hands from his face, sitting up so suddenly it made him dizzy, “That’s…actually smart.”

Juri frowned, resting her head on Seungcheol’s shoulder, “Don’t sound like I don’t usually have good ideas.”

Chan ignored her last comment, getting up and racing out of the room to go text you, “Thanks, Juri!”

Soonyoung looked away from the Uno cards in his hands and over to the alpha and his mate, “We’re all leaving the house when she comes over, right?”

Aya snorted, “Duh. _____ is going on a date with him whether she wants to or not.”

“Isn’t that kind of…mean?” Juri asked slowly.

“Uno!” Seokmin grinned as he placed a draw four card onto the deck.

Soonyoung looked like he was about to start throwing his cards and flipping tables.

Faye couldn’t control her laughter, “No, but that is!”

-

Minghao had told you to come over, saying it was a family dinner. You had only really seen Minghao at school now that he had finally confessed his feelings for Yoona to her and Jun, so he didn’t need you to come over constantly to comfort him and be his only shoulder to lean on. You were happy for him, and you were happy that neither of you were only spending time with each other. Minghao deserved to have a social life just as much as you did, and neither of you needed to be stuck in that room all the time.

You did miss talking to the boy you’d become close with, though. That’s why you agreed to join their family dinner. However, when you got to the house, you noticed the lack of vehicles in the driveway. You got a weird feeling in your stomach, but you ignored it, assuming they had moved the vehicles to the garage that Minghao had told you they were planning to clean out.

When you collected your phone and keys and went to the door, you were greeted by Chan, who looked incredibly nervous, “Hey, _____. Did you get here okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, stepping through the door when Chan moved to the side to allow you in. “Where is everyone?”

“I’m…trying to figure that out too…” he admitted, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

You paused in the middle of kicking your shoes off, one hand on the wall to keep you balanced as you looked at the younger boy, “They’re gone?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “There’s food on the table but the house is quiet and nobody’s in their rooms…”

Your entire face suddenly felt hot, but it wasn’t from embarrassment or anything else but pure anger. Your mind immediately went to the idea that Chan had set you up for some forced date. How could he do that? Didn’t he get that no meant no?

You rolled your eyes, putting your shoes back on, “Yeah, sure. This was a really fucking dumb plan, you know.”

“I-- …What?” Chan’s eyes widened when he realized you were blaming him. “But, _____! I-I didn’t do anything!”

“Cut the shit,” you told him sharply as you threw the door open again. “I can’t believe you’d force me to go on a date with you.”

“_____, I didn’t--!”

“You know, Chan,” you laughed dryly, marching out the door and back to your car. Chan followed, running after you. You opened the door to your car, turning to look at him, “I was actually pretty impressed with your behavior lately, but you really are just as immature as I expected in the first place.”

You saw Chan exhale with force, his golden eyes narrowing, “No I’m not.”

“Well this plan-_”

“This plan wasn’t mine!” he insisted more forcefully, and you could tell by the way his eyes were starting to spot red that he was angry with you for accusing him and implying he was some sort of child in your eyes. “Do you think I would actually put you in a situation that would make you uncomfortable? Do you actually think that?!”

“Chan, I-_”

“Do you actually think that lowly of me?”

Before you could even process his question or your thoughts to gather into a reply, he had turned on his heels and stormed back into the house. You frowned, feeling an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your heart ached in a strange way, and you assumed it was because of the pull Minghao told you about.

Mechanically, you shut the door and walked back to the door, opening it slowly and peering inside. As if he knew you’d come after him, Chan was standing in front of the door, a hurt expression on his face.

“Chan…” you sighed, looking into his red eyes. “Look, I…I’m sorry. I don’t think lowly of you, but-_”

“You know how I feel about you, _____,” he stated, reaching for your hands with his. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, yet you blamed me for this without even stopping to consider I might be innocent. You jumped to conclusions and-_”

“And I acted like a child,” you mumbled, looking down at the floor. 

Chan let go of one of your hands and reached behind you to close the door. He had to lean to fully reach, so you backed up cautiously, but he followed until your back was against a wall and he was standing right in front of you. You were surprised that you didn’t hate the closeness, but your stomach started doing flips when he smirked, his red eyes glinting mischievously.

“If you’ll give me a chance, I can apologize and prove to you I’m as mature as I say I am,” he said lowly, licking his lips as he looked over your body.

Your mind went blank, but you found yourself stiffly nodding anyway.

That’s all it took for his lips to crash hungrily into yours, a low growl emitting from his chest that started a fire in your lower abdomen. Your arms wound around Chan’s neck as he placed his hands on your hips and pressed his body against yours, his heat radiating through the barrier of clothed between the two of you.

Everything happened so fast that you didn’t even realize Chan had lifted you up and had brought you to his room until you were on his bed. That was when he finally broke away from your heated kiss, taking no time in removing your shirt from your body, as well as his own.

Considering how eager he seemed, he took his time kissing across your skin and telling you how beautiful you were, relishing in the soft noises you made and the way you pulled him closer and tugged at his hair.

Instead of him getting impatient, you were the one to start whining for him to keep going. He chuckled to himself, licking his lips as he removed the rest of your clothing before taking off his own teasingly to watch you squirm and try yourself to get it off faster. You even tried to flip positions, but Chan was far too strong for you to overpower.

“Nice try, _____,” he winked as he leaned over you. “It’s cute seeing you try to take charge.”

“This doesn’t make you-_”

“This doesn’t make me what?” he teased as he slowly slid his length into you, causing all words to escape you, only a moan coming out. He smiled smugly down at you. “Something wrong?”

As much as you wanted to give him a dirty look and put his ego in check, you couldn’t even form words; the pleasure from how well he filled you was just too great for you to think of anything else.

Because of his anger – that you had to remember you caused – his thrusts were at a mind-numbing pace that had his name falling from your lips while your nails scratched desperately at his skin. He encouraged your moans and mewls of pleasure by whispering in your ear things like ‘tell me who you belong to’ and ‘louder, baby, I can’t hear you’. Those noises you made only egged him on to go rougher and get you to your high faster.

It didn’t take long for you to warn him you were close. Somehow, he found it in him to go even faster, making you cry out his name loudly as your nails dragged down his back, creating red trails that were sure to be there for a while. He refused to stop until your body relaxed back onto the bed, and you were twitching and whining from over stimulation.

Carefully, Chan pulled out of you and pumped his length until streams of white were falling onto your stomach as he let out a high moan. You were in awe as you watch him above you, his features looking absolutely gorgeous.

He let out a deep sigh when he’d come down from his high, and immediately told you to stay put before he left the room. You had to say you were surprised he was going to get something to clean you up right away. Most guys would’ve just collapsed beside you and let you take care of it. Maybe Chan was just as mature -- if not more -- than the people you were used to dating. 

He returned quickly with a towel, cleaning you up and retrieving your clothes for you before he put his own back on himself. With the two of you fully clothed again, he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. It was so strange how he always naturally looked innocent, but only minutes ago, he looked anything but.

“Does this mean you accept me?” he asked shyly, brushing one of his hands against yours.

You took it before he could pull it away, nodding slowly, “I supposed…my taste in significant others have changed.”

You laughed softly at his excitement hearing that, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turned his head at the last second so you’d kiss his lips, “Hey, what the hell, you little shit!”

“Come on, let’s go eat the food Juri made for us,” he told you, ignoring the fact you were pointing at him for his little trick. He pulled you to your feet, but carried you on his back when he realized you looked too uncomfortable to walk – again, you figured you deserved it. As he carried you down the stairs, he hummed softly as he thought. “You know, _____, if you think I’m a child, you should meet Soonyoung.”

Over dinner, you found that Chan had a lot of insightful views and deep thoughts that even most people you’d dated that were older than you couldn’t ever comprehend if they tried. You assumed that it was probably because he was the youngest and took after the elders in the pack, but he seemed to have acquired his own opinions that weren’t like those of the pack. Like, he didn’t think violence toward the pack that was giving them trouble was going to do them any good, but he knew his pack wouldn’t agree. 

He also made sure to warn you of the oncoming danger. You were filled in on everything that had to do with Jinsoo’s pack, and how Joshua had imprinted on a girl who was the mate of someone from that pack.

“But don’t worry,” he smiled at you, “I’ll keep you safe.”

And even though he was younger than you and the youngest in the pack, you trusted him with your life.