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tealmaskmybeloved · 1 month

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Toxic Consequences AU: Chapter 8

Regret

(As always, notes will be under the cut. Enjoy!)

Carmine was awoken by the sounds of Ogerpon wailing, and she immediately bolted up to check on the Pokémon. Scrambling out of the tent, Carmine saw Ogerpon frantically running up to her.

"Ogerpon, are you alright? What's wrong?" Carmine asked, hugging the ogre.

Ogerpon tried to explain the situation to Carmine, but they soon both realized that there was a language barrier between the two of them. Humans couldn't understand Ogerpon, unfortunately.

Despite that, Carmine did her best to reassure the Pokémon.

"Hey, it's okay. We can figure this out. Is it the Lousy 3 again?" She asked, noticing Ogerpon's shaking body.

Ogerpon went to the nearby tent and grabbed her Ivy Cudgel. With it, she drew a picture in the dirt.

Carmine watched with interest. While the drawing wasn't the best, she could understand the basics of what happened.

"So Kieran was taken by the Loyal 3 and got a Toxic Chain?" The girl asked. Ogerpon nodded.

"Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse.... if only I'd done something to help Kiki...." Carmine growled, clenching her fists. She felt like she failed as a sister. She didn't help her brother and only made things worse for him, and now he was taken by the Loyal 3!

"Florian, Juliana! Wake up! We got things to do! Kiki's been taken by the Lousy 3, and we're going to help him!"

The two exchange students woke up, with Juliana being more alert and Florian looking like he needs at least 2 cups of coffee.

Nonetheless, the twins packed up their stuff, ready to help.

"So where do we find Kieran?" Juliana asked, scared for Kieran.

"That's the thing, we don't know." Carmine sighed. She paced around a bit. Kitakami isn't that big of a region, but it's still dangerous, especially with the so-called Bloodmoon Beast roaming around.

"Wait that's it! He could be in the Timeless Woods! It's the only place I can think of besides the town, well, there's also the Paradise Barrens, Wistful Fields, Infernal Pass, Oni Mountain.... okay maybe there's a lot of places. How are we supposed to look for all of it?" Carmine sighed, clearly upset.

"Hey, don't worry. We can try 1 place at a time. We can split up to look for him faster." Florian suggested.

"Not a bad idea! Florian, use your Koraidon to look at Oni Mountain, I'll use my Miraidon to search the Infernal Pass, Carmine, you can search the Timeless Woods. Message us if you need anything." Juliana said, and with that, she hopped on her Miraidon and took off to the skies.

"That's Juliana as usual, always jumping to action." Florian sighed. "Anyways, do you want to take Ogerpon with you?"

"Oh! Uh, sure? She seems pretty attached to me, and you guys got to hang out with her a lot." Carmine responded, Ogerpon holding onto her leg.

"Alright, well I'm off." Florian declared, as he flew up on his Koraidon.

Carmine watched from below. She turned to look at Ogerpon.

"Guess it's just me and you now. Ready to find Kiki?"

Ogerpon nodded, and the two headed towards the Timeless Woods.

The woods were dark, and empty. Not a single other Pokémon could be found. The silence hung in the air like a thick fog. Odd, considering there was usually other Pokémon around, but this time it was silent.

Carmine and Ogerpon trekked through the forest, twigs and leaves snapping under their footsteps. Nervously, Carmine called out for her brother.

"Kiki! Are you here?! It's me, Carmine! Look, I'm sorry for how I was! I shouldn't have lied to you about Ogerpon!"

Silence.

Carmine grumbled in frustration. This was probably just a waste of time. She was about to turn back when she heard footsteps coming towards her.

Could it be?

"Kiki? Is that you?" Carmine called out again. The footsteps got louder, and a figure came into view, holding a camera.

It wasn't Kieran. Rather, it was a tall, lanky woman with blue shirt hair, holding a camera and wearing a short gray tank top and blue jeans. A Hisuian Growlithe followed behind, playfully jumping in the nearby leaves.

Carmine was disappointed. "Oh... sorry.... I thought you were my brother."

The woman chuckled. "No worries! I'm just out here looking for the Bloodmoon Beast."

"Hang on, the Bloodmoon Beast?! You're looking for it?" Carmine asked. Despite her disappointment, she was curious.

"Yep! I've been struggling with my career, so I was hoping this would fix it. Photography has kinda lost its spark to me, you know?"

Carmine wasn't sure how to respond. She was not expecting a life story.

"Oh, how silly of me to not introduce myself! My name is Perrin! I'm from Sinnoh!" She stuck her hand out for a shake.

Carmine reluctantly did so as well.

"The name's Carmine. You wouldn't happen to see my brother? He's about this tall, same haircut but shorter and is purple instead of orange."

Perrin shook her head. "Sorry, but no. If I do, I'll let you know."

"Thanks."

"Anyways, I've got to get going. Good luck with finding your brother!" Perrin said with a sincere smile before leaving, her Growlithe following behind.

Carmine sat down in the grass and leaves, Ogerpon sitting next to her.

".... You know, you would've liked Kieran a lot, Ogerpon. Sure he can be a bit... possessive, but he has a good heart."

Ogerpon looked up at Carmine, curious.

Carmine continued. "He was sweet and kind, and always a really shy kid. I remember dad always saying he had potential for something greater, but I never knew what he meant by that."

Ogerpon gave a small trill in response.

"See, Kiki never had any friends, at least until the twins came along... he wouldn't stop talking about them to our grandparents..."

Carmine trailed off.

"It's just.... when our folks died, I felt like I had to be the parent to Kiki, but I didn't even do that. I treated him poorly, always yelled at him, told him to go find someplace else to be.... no wonder he had all these issues. It was because of me."

Carmine started to get emotional.

"And now, I probably won't even get to see him again! If I'd just told him the truth about you, he wouldn't have been taken by the Lousy 3! If I'd done something right, then Kiki wouldn't be gone!"

Carmine buried her face in her arms. She could hear Ogerpon walking away.

Eventually, Carmine was nudged to look at something.

"Pon pon?"

Carmine lifted up her head to see Ogerpon holding out something. It was a handmade pendant, made of a rock and some string. It's similar to the one Ogerpon wore, except it was a bright blue instead of a pale orange.

"Is this... for me?" Carmine asked, reaching out to touch it.

Ogerpon nodded, and Carmine took the pendant and put it on. It felt nice, like it was made with a lot of care.

Carmine smiled back at the Pokémon.

"Thank you..." She said, tears in her eyes.

Carmine got up from the ground.

"We can't just sit around and mope, we got to find Kiki." She declared, turning to Ogerpon with a small smile.

The two friends leave the Timeless Woods, unaware that they were being watched by a familiar peach Pokémon.

Dokutaro's POV

So it seems that Carmine still does care for Kieran, surprisingly.

Not that it matters. Kieran still believes the opposite. And I'll do nothing to dissuade it.

As for the Ogre.... I'll have to deal with her later. But not now... not in this body of mine.

YIPPIE NEW CHAPTER HERE GUYS GALS AND NONBINARY PALS

Hmm I wonder what Dokutaro means by that last part hehehehehehe

Also I imagine that giving others special pendants is a sign of trust and companionship in Ogerpon's species.

Anyways, uh, feel free to reblog or send an ask if you have any questions or if you enjoyed it.

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luminesparkz · 2 years

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[📌] Hello, I'm Sparkz!

•Twin sister of the infamous @citrusdandelfly (Consider me the way less cool twin!! I cannot even compare!!) •📚I'm a busy Uni student (currently getting my BFA in Illustration) so I apologize if I do not respond to anything in the future. (With that in mind, I may not message!) •My Account with Citrus: @citrussparkz •❌DNI: Proshitters, z00, homophobes/transphobes, racists, ableists, or just any hateful people in general!!! (You will be blocked) •You might be looking for my castaway comic: #castaway au comic •My Instagram/Twitter is also luminesparkz! (Although, I have not been as active on Instagram as of late.)

•☕My Kofi: If you would like to financially support me while getting a drawing of your choice, my ko-fi is here! (And you get a GUARANTEED drawing and it will be A LOT FASTER than in my ask box!)

💡Things to keep in mind!

•✅I am open to many ships and do not object to any! (Unless they are shown to be problematic in some way, of course.) I love to see people's personal headcanons, AUs, and opinions no matter how different they are to mine, so never be afraid to voice your opinions to me! (However, there are some ships that do make me feel uncomfortable based on my own perceptions of media.) •✅This is account is SFW! (If anything I may do dirty jokes VERY rarely, but that's about it! And that is very rare!) •📩My ask box is open! You can put anything there. A question, request, or anything! It can be of any subject or fandom. In fact I encourage this because I never get requests. 😔 Even with that said, I cannot guarantee that they will all be answered, though. •✅Anyone is free to use my art as their banner/pfp/etc AS LONG AS YOU CREDIT ME!! I don't mind reposting on other apps as well but again, PLEASE CREDIT ME!! And please tag me or mention me (or BOTH) if you do credit me! I appreciate it!!

#️⃣Hastags! (Totally didn't copy my sister.)

#sparkz inbox (Any inbox submission answers) #sparkz reblogs (Any posts that are reblogged/not mine) #sparkz art (All of my original art) #sparkz other (Posts of mine that aren't art)

One last thing before you go! I know someone out there may need this. You are loved and wanted. You mean something to someone, and you matter. Your life matters, you are an amazing, strong person. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Don’t let yourself tell you otherwise. You are worth so much more than you think you’re worth.

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sweetswesf · 1 year

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Check In

What I Did

Responded to a post I was tagged in in the channel for the Black-male dominated professional engineering group I am in outside of work...was honest about what going through a layoff is like and how people should support people going through it and immediately regretted it

Got through 4 DAYS of 100 Days of Python in a day to catch up

Didn't work out...sat at my damn desk ALL day and neglected dishes and eating better and working out...all to catch up with Python

Received yet another request to meet with this CEO next week who made a random post about a podcast episode I did...I have no clue where it's going and why he has not given up on trying to meet ME after all these years, but we'll see...

Bumped my face against the cabinet door AGAINNN

Finished Alice & Wonderland finally a few days ago and couldn't help but draw parallels, pick out the themes, and cry when Alice slayed the Jabberwocky! "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"...that's what I'm going to do with these things I've been battling

online shopped for like 2 hours (I know...way too long) for back to back days because they're having a special: spend $150 and get $100...I'm very indecisive because I don't have much time to shop and don't want to do it often, and the stuff I buy tends to stay with me for YEARS...and I had a LOT of gift cards at Free People (THAT IS MY STORE!!!)...I bought these! Hopefully they fit, hopefully it was worth it...I feel like I keep trying with little pieces...one day, people are going to be sending me my designer wardrobes for free...these are going to hold me over and hopefully inspire me to the attract the opportunities that help get me there; I like comfortable, cute, unique, different things...with a feminine hippie undertone:

What I Learned

They say people will be more attracted to you the less they know about you, and for someone as open and vulnerable as me, this has been hard...I guess this is why I feel like this blog is so therapeutic: I can get my feelings out, have them read without knowing who the reader is and without the reader knowing who I am

Feeling

Dependent on my friend...I really look forward to meeting with her biweekly; she couldn't come to our meeting today and I felt a little sad...it made me scared because I'm so used to being left/made to look dumb

Accomplished...I've built Hangman, Rock, Paper, Scissors, and a few other things; I regretted starting the 100 Days of Python since I already know the language instead of going harder on the Algos, but I am doing it to get to the harder lessons on stuff I don't know and just to get faster with the language which will help me both in the algos and on the job eventually, especially since, I tend to lose my train of thought mid-algo sometimes...Like today, I figured out how to add recursion to my problem by accident, and recursion is really difficult for me...PLUS, I'm learning a lot of new tricks and resources I never knew of even in these beginning lessons...most importantly it's getting me up to work at my desk and reminding me that I can sit for long, knock out some Pomodoros and ...I worked more hours yesterday than I have in one setting all month...

My A1C levels are on the bridge for pre-diabetes...like if I was 0.1 over on my score, I would be considered pre-diabetic...so I need to get that in check...I was inspired to check by this healthy Black YouTuber Hallease and my grandmother has diabetes...that life is NOT fun...movement helps but it contradicts going hard on this interview prep stuff...I added the Pomodoro Gym Chrome extension to make sure I get up because my FitBit watch KEEPS giving me a rash...I hate it...

Glad I overcame the paranoid thoughts of having a brain issue...

Sad at all the time I've wasted in the past on social media procrastinating from doing the work and making things harder for myself

Glad I meet weekly with an old colleague...white girl gets me and we relate...but she reminds me of an old friend that ended up ghosting me and acting like she didn't know me...PEOPLE are hard to trust

Takeaways

I'm going to get better at this stuff

I'm not getting fat...looking in the mirror I see more definition in my body despite me feeling chubby cheeked in the Google Meets video

Going to start doing Advent of Code: 25 Python challenges in the month of December...happens every year since 2015...I attempted once and gave up after like a day; FINALLY found the name of it after reaching out to a mentor to me who helped me get ad revenue on my project from bootcamp

I don't judge homeless people who spend money on drugs or other non-essentials...it's a HUMAN thing to spend things on what feels good in the moment and lose sight of what the money is really for...we're all trying

I can't judge people who are laid off, collecting unemployment, or food stamps, etc.

I believe I am going through a lot of these experiences to become more humble and judge less

Taking this time to focus on building skills is a good thing...I'd rather do it now than when I'm too old...I saw another guy on LinkedIn leave his good job to do the same: train up skills as he knew he wouldn't be able to work and do both...I'm excited to see who I will become after I learn these skills

I don't like my gym crush anymore...I embarrassed myself trying to get his attention in the gym and it was like chasing down a child...I already attract attention being this short, bulky, Black girl amongst all the men on the weights level...I noticed his new neck tattoo of praying hands and it just read to me "irresponsible spending" and I know I shouldn't think that way because I just bought clothes when I have PLENTY of them already and nowhere to go...we all try...

I have to stop panicking and getting in my head

How I Got Myself Out of a Rut

Prayer; reminding myself that God won't leave me

Pushed myself to finish the coding lessons

Told myself that I won't be in this forever, I'm going to get better, I'm limitless, and me getting to the next level is predicated on MY actions

Goals Completed

Found a therapist

Stopped listening to people worried about their own circumstances and remembering God works on his own time and that I am in no rush...

Got back on the ball

Being kinder to myself and stopping guilting myself if my energy isn't always on 100%

Goals To Complete

Strengthen my relationship with God

Understand the main concepts I need to from Interview Cake, AlgoExpert, etc. in 6 months, NOT less than 3

Drop my body fat percentage to Marion Jones, Michaela Cole, or Jade Cargill levels

Consistently fight urge to fill up my time with social media/YouTube

Fully forgive my family & build a great relationship with them

Be more confident & faithful

250 steps/hour & 10k steps/daily consistently

Drink more than 64oz a day consistently

Go on a date with a guy I actually like who actually likes me too

Learn more about my gym crush & get him to ask for my number

Get a house similar to that one in Spain

Update my personal app

Complete 100 Days of Python

Complete Advent of Code

Decorate the plastic Christmas tree with the ornaments I HAD to buy

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rubymoon-snape · 2 years

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Disclaimer: I don't own Voltron Defender of the Universe. I do own Ruby though.

Summary: As Ruby heals, the team and her friends write/draw on her cast.

Author Note: This is Keith/Ruby, Lance/Rachel (belonging to QueenScene2), and Allura/CJ (belonging to 80sGayTrashGoblin).

"Cast Signing"

Keith normally liked going on patrol, but he managed to get Hunk to do it for him as he didn't want to leave Ruby alone too long. He did one time and came back to find her trying to do some work around the castle.

Ruby knew she needed to take the time to recuperate, but she didn't like being idle...unless she was cuddling with Keith. She hoped she would be cuddling Keith that afternoon, but he was supposed to be on patrol.

Even though it was Keith's room, they were slowly adding Ruby's things to the room that they would now both be sharing. The first things had been her clothes and toiletries, and the next things would be her books and mementos. It would go a lot faster when she could move on her own, but Keith didn't even want her trying to go out of the room on her own.

Speaking of Keith, he entered their room to her surprise and approached the bed. He tucked an errant strand behind her ear and leaned in for a kiss. She eagerly responded to his kiss, and when they came up for air, Keith put his forehead against hers. "Darling, would you like to go to the lounge today?"

"Sure, but I thought you had patrol today," Ruby replied, holding out her arms.

Keith gently swept her into his arms and left the room. "I did, but I asked Hunk if he'd do it for me."

"But why?"

"I wanted to spend this time with you."

"And to make sure I didn't try to do any work?"

"That too." Keith carried her into the lounge, set her on the couch, and sat down next to her. He smiled and pulled out a full set of markers, selecting the red one. He proceeded to draw several red hearts and then sign his name underneath in cursive.

As he was signing his name, Lance and Rachel walked in. Rachel hurried over and sat down on Ruby's other side. "How are you doing, Ruby?"

"As good as I can be."

"Can I sign your cast?"

"Yeah, sure."

Rachel picked up the purple one and wrote 'Get well soon' on the opposite side and drew hearts around her words. Once Keith was done, Lance picked up the blue marker and wrote his name in all capitals, making the 'L' all fancy, displaying his knowledge of calligraphy.

While Lance and Rachel were signing Ruby's cast, Allura and Pidge stopped by. Allura smiled when she saw everyone signing the purple-haired maid's cast. She selected the pink marker and started drawing a pretty good chibified rendition of a lion on the same side Keith and Lance signed, while Pidge used the green to draw some symbols on the opposite side.

"What are those?" Ruby asked.

"They look like just random symbols," Lance mentioned.

"You wouldn't know an alien language if you saw one," Pidge quipped, completely lying.

Ruby giggled at Pidge's comment, and Keith wasn't going to mention that he knew Pidge was lying. If thinking the symbols were an alien language made Ruby smile, then he wasn't going to ruin the trick.

Just then, CJ popped out of the vent, hearing the slight commotion in the lounge. "Are we having a signing party?"

Ruby looked up and smiled. "Apparently we are. Come on, CJ!"

CJ grinned and jumped down from the vent. She grabbed the orange marker and started drawing silly faces on the opposite side of Pidge's symbols.

The group didn't know how long they were in there, but they were joined by Hunk, who had just finished the patrol Keith requested him to go on. He saw what everyone had done and approached, grabbing the yellow marker. He found an empty place and wrote 'feel better.'

Ruby admired all the additions to her cast and smiled as she realized that all her friends were there with her and would be for her entire recovery period.

Fin

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aspenmissing · 10 months

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𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝙿𝚝 𝟸)

Now morning, Sam is kneeling miserably in front of the toilet, his hair covering his face, and Y/N is behind him, rubbing his back. Dean enters and grins at the sight.

"How you feeling, Sammy?" Dean asks, loudly. Sam groans again. "I guess mixing whiskey and Jäger wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it?"

"I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night, do you?" Y/N asks, looking at him.

"Ohh, I can still taste the tequila," Sam says, groaning. Y/N chuckles, and Dean smiles in relief.

"You know, there's a really good hangover remedy -- it's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray," Sam is heaving.

"Oh, I hate you."

"I know you do. Hey, turns out when Grandma Rose was a tyke, she had a Creole nanny who wore a hoodoo necklace," Dean's face scrunches at the smell. "Whoo. How can you take that?" Dean asks Y/N.

"Well, who do you think helped you when you got drunk off your ass?"

"So, you think she taught Rose hoodoo?" Sam says.

"Yes, I do."

"All right," Y/N says, and Sam stands painfully, with the help of Y/N. "I think it's time we talked to Rose, then." Dean grimaces.

"Oh. You can brush your teeth first."

Sam, Dean, and Y/N approach the door marked 'Private' and knock.

"Hello? Susan?" Dean looks around furtively.

"Clear?" Y/N asks.

"Mm-hmm." Y/N kneels before the door and picks the lock. The three enter the creepy doll room and go to the door in the back; it's open, and they go through to find a dimly lit staircase. They creep upstairs and to the end of another hallway, into a small room whose door is ajar. An old woman is seated in a wheelchair facing the rainy window, her back to them. They approach cautiously.

"Mrs. Thompson? Mrs. Thompson?" She is trembling, staring at nothing.

"Rose? Hi, Mrs. Thompson, we're not here to hurt you, it's okay-" Y/N says, but Rose does not respond, just trembles harder. "Rose?" then, quietly, "Guys." She draws Dean and Sam over to the side. "This woman's had a stroke."

"Yeah, but hoodoo's hands-on, I mean, you've got to mix herbs, and chant, and build an altar."

"Yeah. So, it can't be Rose. Hey, maybe it's not even hoodoo," Sam says.

"Or she could be faking."

"Yeah, what are you gonna do, poke her with a stick?" Y/N asks. Dean frowns, nodding. "Dude! You're not gonna poke her with a stick!" Susan enters.

"What the hell?! What are you doing in here?"

"Oh, we just wanted to talk to Rose…"

"Well, the door was open…"

"I wanted to say hello," The Winchesters say over each other.

"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits. I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops." They leave without hesitation. Minutes later the Impala rumbles out of the hotel parking lot.

The creepy wind blows, and Susan stares as the full-sized swing set also begins moving on its own. She approaches the playground cautiously; all the playsets are moving, and the car starts behind her. She lays a hand on the teeter-totter to stop it. Everything starts moving faster, and suddenly the car revs its engine and comes straight at her. At the last moment, Sam appears, tackling her out of the way.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks.

"I think so."

"Come on, come on. Let's get inside, let's go." They help her into the inn. The three guide Susan into the bar and to a table.

"Whiskey," Susan says.

"Sure. I know the feeling."

"What the hell happened out there?"

"You want the truth?" Y/N asks.

"Of course."

"Well, at first, we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse, but that out there? That was definitely a spirit," Sam hands her a glass of whiskey.

"Here."

"You're insane."

"Yeah, it's been said," Dean says, looking to Y/N.

"Look, I'm sorry, Susan. We don't exactly have time to ease you into this, but we need to know when your mother had the stroke."

"What does that have to do with any-"

"Just answer the question."

"About a month ago."

"Right before the killings began," Y/N says. Sam turns to the two.

"See? So, what if Rose was working hoodoo, but not to hurt anyone. To protect them."

"She was using the five-spot urns to ward off the spirit."

"Right, until she had a stroke and she couldn't anymore."

"I don't believe this," Susan says.

"Listen, sister, that car didn't try to run you down by itself, okay? I mean, I guess it did, technically, but, but the spirit can- forget it," Sam interrupts him.

"Look, believe what you want. But the fact is you and your family are in danger, all right? So, you need to clear everybody out of here: your employees, your mother, your daughters, everyone," Y/N says.

"Um, I only have one daughter," Sam, Dean, and Y/N share a look of confusion.

"One?"

"I thought Tyler had a sister named Maggie."

"Maggie's imaginary."

"Where's Tyler?"

Later, Susan leads Sam and Dean up to the playroom.

"Tyler!" They go into the room; the floor is littered with broken dolls. Susan starts to panic. "Oh my god. Tyler." She runs out of the room. "Tyler!" she comes back in. "She's not here."

"Susan. Tell us what you know about Maggie."

"Uh, not much. Um, Tyler's been talking about her since Mom got sick."

"Okay, did you ever know anyone by that name?" Y/N asks.

"Uh, no..."

"Think, think, I mean, somebody that could have lived here, might have passed away," Dean says.

"Oh my god. My mom. My mom had a sister named Margaret. She barely spoke about her."

"Did Margaret happen to die here when she was a kid?"

"She drowned in the pool."

"Come on." The four run through the gardens to the pool house; they reach the door and pound on it. It's locked tight, and Sam, Dean, and Y/N start pounding at the glass to break it.

"Tyler!" More pounding. "Tyler!"

"Mommy!" Tyler shouts. Maggie grabs her wrist and pulls her forward; she falls into the pool with a scream.

"Is there another entrance?"

"All right, let's go." Dean turns to face Y/N. "Keep working." As they run around the building, Y/N continues to pound at the door; she looks back and sees a large potted plant. She pulls the plant out, picks up the heavy pot, and starts pounding the door with it. Inside, Tyler flounders in the water, coming up for a second; Maggie pushes her head down. Dean and Sam approach the back door, and Sam holds Susan aside.

"Stand back." He front-kicks the door, twice, but it hardly budges. "Son of a bitch!"

"Let me try." Sam also kicks the door, twice, but once again, it doesn't budge. As Maggie holds Tyler's head under the water, a wavering voice calls from above.

"Margaret. Margaret!" Y/N finally breaks through the glass and wriggles through the opening. Without hesitation, she leaps over the railing and into the pool. She pushes past the plastic covering the pool to reach Tyler, lifting her in her arms. She is unconscious. Dean and Sam break through the back door, and the brothers and Susan rush in to meet Y/N as she exits the pool, Tyler in her arms. She lays her on the edge of the pool, and Sam, Dean, and Susan kneel down. After a tense moment, Tyler coughs and wakes up.

"Thank god! Thank God, thank God." Susan says, hugging Tyler.

"Mommy!"

"Yeah, baby, I'm here."

"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere?" Y/N asks.

"No, she's gone. Mommy." Dean, Sam, and Y/N share a look, and they help her out. Later, Susan holds Tyler close to her as they go up towards Rose's room.

"Don't worry, honey, we're leaving in two minutes, we've just got to get Grandma."

"I don't get it, did Maggie just stop?" Dean asks.

"Seems like it," Y/N answers.

"Well, where the hell did she go?" Upstairs, Susan screams. They go running up to Rose's room to find her slumped in her wheelchair, dead.

Sam, Dean, and Y/N watch as Rose's body is put into a coroner's van. They walk over to Susan.

"Paramedics said it was another stroke. Do you think...Margaret could have had something to do with it?" She asks.

"We don't know."

"But it's possible, yeah." There is a short pause. "Susan, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. You've given me everything." She turns to Tyler as she comes out. "Ready to go, kiddo?"

"Yeah."

"No Tyler, you're sure Maggie's not around anymore?" Dean asks.

"I'm sure. I'd see her."

"I guess whatever's going on must be over." Sam holds the taxi door for Susan.

"You two take care of yourselves, all right?" Before getting in the taxi, she turns and gives Sam a full-body hug. Dean and Y/N smirk.

"Thank you. The three of you." Sam shuts the door behind her.

"Think you could have hooked up some MILF action there, bud, I'm serious, I think she liked you."

"Yeah, that's all she needs."

"Well, you saved the mom, you saved the girl. Not a bad day." Dean turns to Y/N. "Of course you know, I could have saved 'em myself, but I didn't want you to feel useless."

"I appreciate it, really," Y/N says sarcastically.

"Feels good getting back in the saddle, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does. But it doesn't change what we talked about last night, Guys."

"We talked about a lot of things last night," Dean says.

"You know what I mean."

"You were wasted."

"But you weren't. And you promised." Y/N and Dean share a look. They get into the car. Sam in a full-on brood, Dean and Y/N flick their eyes towards Sam in worry and anxiety. They pull away from the inn.

#supernatural #older sister winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #reader insert

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demon-fucking-therapist · 2 years

Text

Dom Reader, Yandere Brothers - Greed Part 1

The series: You become the master of seven unruly brothers - and they don't want to let you go so easily. How it happened, and what it means for each of them.

Tags/warnings for this section: underwear thief, dom reader (obviously), yandere Mammon (obviously), afab reader (no pronouns used, addressed as 'master'), under-negotiated scenes/kink (though a safeword is in play and a check-in happens), use of the pact for sexual purposes, riding, orgasm delay/denial, this part is less yandere and more smut but it leads into yandere stuff I swear. The smut just got out of hand.

Minors DNI.

Now with a Part 2

---

You weren't entirely thrilled about being kidnapped from your world and tossed into an entirely new one. Pushed into a new school, surrounded by creatures that look at you like you're a meal, and suddenly dealing with 6 (actually 7, but you only learn that later) housemates.

Forced to complete homework you can barely understand, a guardian demon with no concept of personal space, and a voice in your head begging you to free him, you resign yourself to a shitty year.

But a discovery late one night in your room makes things much more interesting.

Mammon

"Sit!"

The single word sends him to the ground from where he was going through your drawers. Mammon yelped as he landed solidly on his ass.

You'd just had a long tutoring session with Satan and your brain was starting to hurt. You did not need Mammon trying to steal your shit on top of that.

It takes your tired brain a moment to realise the drawer Mammon had open was filled with your underwear.

Your exhaustion is swiftly replaced by rage, and you repeat your command - "SIT" - until Mammon is left with his chest pressed to the floor, panting, knees barely hold his hips in the air.

"What do you think you're doing?" you demand, standing over him. His eyes are trying to look up at you, but he won't meet your gaze, settling on staring at your legs, your folded arms, the book you'd borrowed from Satan.

Mammon huffed. "Figured you'd hide your expensive shit in some stupid place. Same as most humans."

And that - that didn't sit right.

Mammon had pulled a lot of shit in the months you'd been here, but despite it all, he'd never once stolen from you. He was nosy, sure. He had a terrible understanding of boundaries.

But a thief? To everyone else, yeah, but not to you.

It's out of character enough that it's got you squatting beside him. Mammon still won't look at you properly.

"Are you like... okay? Are the witches pulling anything?" It felt weird to respond with concern when Mammon is for sure the one in the wrong here, but for better or worse, you and Mammon were usually pretty good together. This was weird.

"No." Mammon insisted, squirming a little, trying to escape the pact. The movement makes you roll your eyes and draws your attention to his body, and-

Well.

Well shit.

"Mammon," you say, and something in your tone must tip him off, because he clearly realises that you know. His voice rises and he's saying something but all you can really pay attention to is the way his dick twitches where it's straining against the fabric of his jeans.

And you have some things to consider.

You're pissed. At Mammon, at being kidnapped, at being drawn into their whole fucking family drama with Belphie, at being treated like a fool for not knowing things you never had a chance to learn.

You're bored. Devildom Law sucks. You've been studying for 2 hours and you're still not sure you understand the readings.

You could fix one of those problems right now.

"Mammon," you cut off whatever he was saying. Mammon's cheeks are flushed, his breathing heavy, but he's still hard as ever as far as you can tell. "Do you... know what a safeword is?"

Your demon gapes at you. You think for a minute you've broken him, and that doesn't change when he starts stuttering out curses and questions faster than you can understand, but you wait him out until you repeat the question.

"'Course I do, human," Mammon was so painfully trying to act tough but his wet lips parted with every breath. You could see him calculating where this could go. He was finally looking you in the eyes, too.

"Colour system? Red for stop, yellow for slow?"

"Like I'll need to-"

"Safeword out if you want me to stop," you order. The pact shuts him up, but he nods. Mammon's breathing is getting heavier and he keeps shifting around as much as your command will let him, clearly uncomfortable trapped chest down ass up on the floor.

"How do you feel about me using the pact?" you ask him. Mammon growls.

"How d'ya think, human-"

"Mammon," you say, and-

And you don't even give an order, but you can feel the surge of power between you. Your power over him. And Mammon can feel it too.

"It's good," he spits out, face burning. You swear you see tears in the corner of his eyes. "It- fuck, it's good."

"Okay. Flip yourself over. Take off the jacket and your pants."

You don't need to make it an order, but you let a little bit of a command slip through. Mammon responds fast, flipping onto his back and raising his hips, fumbling with his belt. His jeans catch on his ankles and you sigh as you realise you're gonna have to help him out.

You toss the jeans and boxers away while Mammon throws his jacket somewhere. The black shirt stays on, the hem riding up on his waist.

You take a moment to look.

Mammon is painfully hard. The whole thing is red and swollen, his dick already leaking precum onto his stomach. Your demon bites his lip and mumbles something about making you pay for the view even as his cock twitches in interest at your stare.

You consider your options. Mammon is a nice average length, not large enough that you worry about how it’s going to fit but big enough for a nice stretch. You weren’t planning on fucking Mammon today, so you have a distinct lack of lube, toys, or anything else that you could mess around with in easy reach. There is also the issue of Mammon looking seconds away from blowing his load untouched.

“Don’t cum.”

The order makes him shudder and groan before he even fully registers it. You can see the moment Mammon’s brain catches up.

“What?!” he protests, raising his head as much as your command will let him. His scowl is even less intimidating than usual with his desperate expression.

“Only good boys come, Mammon. Maybe I’ll let you if you do well.”

Mammon grumbles. He doesn’t safeword.

His expression quickly slackens once more as you remove your own pants, keeping your top on but opening up the buttons. His eyes follow the fabric as it drops to the ground, flicking back up and finding the space between your legs.

You straddle his face, forcing his head back onto the wooden floor with enough force to indulge his masochism.

“You’re going to eat me out until I can take that gross dick of yours,” you tell him. You can already feel his tongue trying to reach for you before you’ve even properly sat down. “You can use your fingers to help. Tap on my leg three times to stop, okay?”

Mammon nods enthusiastically.

“Okay?” you repeat, harsher.

“Yes, master,” Mammon whines and fuck. You drop down onto his tongue, grinding against his face.

Mammon adjusts your hip with one hand while the other sneaks between your pussy and his mouth, gathering up slick and saliva, helping him find your clit. The first time he shyly wraps his tongue around it you buck against his face and Mammon letting out a long, drawn out groan that vibrates against you.

Mammon is passionate, to say the least. You can’t help but roll your hips against his mouth, gasp when one finger finally enters you - gentle and slow, in stark contrast to the actions of his tongue. Mammon’s eyes are half-lidded and if it weren’t for his clever fingers and silver tongue you’d think he was already fucked dumb before anything even touched his cock.

Mammon has to be experienced, no virgin's this good, but he's whining and moaning like he's never been touched before. He's so hard it looks painful, and if you hadn't walked in on him trying to steal your underwear you'd feel sorry for him. As it is you just grind down harder, only allowing him some air when he slips another finger inside.

You pull yourself away when you feel ready - commanding hands off when Mammon tries to keep you stuck to his face - and sit on his stomach, your fluids mixing with the inhuman amounts of precum already there.

Mammon is breathing heavy, glassy-eyed. You run your hands over his chest, cooing gently until he comes back to himself, eyes focusing on you.

"Hey, cutie," you say softly. It's the only kindness you intend to give Mammon tonight. "How are you doing?"

Mammon gulps heavily. His hands hover over your hips where you haven't yet removed your last command. A single word lets him grip onto you, squeezing into the fat of your hips.

"I'm... why'd ya stop?" Mammon whines. His hips try to buck but he's still stuck to the floor. His face is flushed but he's talking to you, which you take as a good sign. He licks his lips, then does it again when he tastes you on them.

"I'm going to put you inside me now, okay?" Mammon sputters and chokes on his words, but that's pretty normal for him. "Are you ready?"

"I- yes, human!" he snaps. Your frown is enough to cow him into submission once more. "Yes, master, please. I want inside you so bad. Please."

"Better," you reply with a smile.

You cut off his next complaint by lifting your hips and sinking onto him.

Your own groans are easily outmatched by Mammon's. He fits nicely, just as you thought he would. Mammon had prepared you well and while you'd probably rushed yourself a bit by just dropping straight onto him, at least you can take a moment to adjust. Mammon's certainly not going anywhere.

"You need to quiet down," you tell Mammon, but this time you don't attach a command to it. He bits his lip and squirms as much as he can, trying his best to do what you say. "I didn't lock my door."

Mammon groans - quieter this time, at least - and his head falls back onto the ground with a sharp sound. "Yer a tease."

"I don't think you can say that right now." You roll your hips to emphasise your point and one of his hands flies to cover his mouth. "Just don't get us caught."

You alternate your speed - sometimes going hard and fast, chasing that high, but slowing down before you can reach it. You purposely avoid playing with your clit too much. You want this to last, you want to really punish Mammon. You don't think you've ever been wetter.

Mammon tries to buck up into you but all he can really do is wiggle his hips and watching his frustration and helplessness rise only makes you want to push him further.

It takes minutes for Mammon's vocabulary to be reduced to pleas, whines, and the occasional apology. His hands, the only part of him he can control properly right now, roam your body. Sometimes settling on your chest, clumsily playing with your nipples - sometimes gripping your hips hard enough to hurt - eventually, endearingly, settling on holding one of your hands.

You ride him until your legs hurt, until you're starting to feel a little brainless. Turns out edging yourself fucking hurts after a while. You decide it's time to end this.

Mammon is long past complaining about being your living dildo, his volume rising again as you increase the pace in your final push, your hand circling your clit like your life depends on it. You watch Mammon's face the whole time, the tear streaks, the way his hair is starting to slick with sweat, the way drool has started to gather at his lips. He's a mess, this beyond powerful demon is a mess, and it's all for you-

As you cum you know this is going to happen again, that you can't just have him once. You ride him through it and fall against his chest, heart racing. The only sound that fills the room now is sound of harsh, heavy breathing.

Mammon eventually gets squirmy again, escalating to a sharp groan as you pull yourself off. Your legs feel like jelly and you curse when you realise you left your water bottle in the kitchen.

You resign yourself to catching your breath and getting it later when Mammon grumbles.

"Hey, hu- Master," he corrects himself at your glare. "Um, aren't ya forgetting something?"

Mammon's hands hover over his dick and you realise that he's already well-trained enough to not touch himself without your permission. He's a good boy when he's like this, but...

You don't want to reward bad behaviour.

"You want to cum?" you ask innocently, making your way to your feet. You manage to hide your wince as your legs stretch out after... a while on the floor.

"Please. I- I know I did bad, but I'll be good I swear, I won't do it again, so please-"

Mammon shuts up when a pair of your underwear lands on his face.

It's not a fancy pair, nothing particularly sexy. But his hands fly to his face and he holds it like it's precious gold.

"You can sit up and lean against something," you tell him, and Mammon scrambles backwards to your bed, props himself up against the mattress. "And you can cum if you jerk yourself off into those panties."

"Thank you, thank you, thank - fuck-"

Mammon wraps your underwear around his dick, fisting himself harsh and quick. He's not going to last. You can see it in the way his eyes roll back, hear it in the way he calls your name. You can practically taste it.

When he comes it's with a full body shudder and a loud cry. There's no way no one's heard you two now. His cum dribbles out of your panties and you settle down beside him to scoop it up and press it back in.

"Hey, sweet boy," you call softly. "Can you stand?"

Mammon, eyes closed, nods. You ruffle his hair and he growls a little at the feeling of his cum on your fingers.

"We need to take a shower, okay? Think you can handle that, good boy?"

Mammon finally opens his eyes, meeting yours with obvious, unfiltered, sleepy affection. It makes you smile. You're definitely in too deep.

"Can I clean you up?" Mammon mumbles.

"Of course."

As Mammon pulls himself up, you take your dirtied underwear and shove it in the pockets of his jeans.

Good boys should clean up their own messes, after all.

#obey me mammon #obey me smut #sub obey me #dom reader #afab reader #mammon #obey me yandere #yandere obey me #mammon x reader #obey me

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thevindicativevordan · 2 years

Note

thoughts on Captain Marvel as a “wish fulfillment” take on Superman?

Refusal on the part of some to ever refer to him as "Shazam" amuses me, but that's a battle they've long since lost.

What makes Shazam so appealing is that he embodies the dream of every kid who saw superheroes fly, or run faster than light, or fight crime past their bed time, and wished that could be them. With a simple magic word the ordinary child of Billy Batson gets transformed into his ideal self, someone stronger and smarter and more powerful than he could ever be. Irony of Billy's situation is that it's Shazam who provides an outlet for Billy to be a kid because Shazam lives in a simple world of black and white. There are evildoers out there that need punching and he's the hero who will deliver the required beat down. Meanwhile poor Billy has to grapple with issues related to family and his situation in life that not even the Wisdom of Solomon can offer an easy solution for. He can be as simple or complex as the writer wants him to be, with room to go dark in places without ever losing sight of the optimistic core which makes him so enjoyable. Johns take on Shazam during the New 52 didn't start out that innocent, but by the end of the story he was very much like the classic Billy Batson, and I never agreed with people who saw him as an asshole.

Shazam is an even more idealistic take on being Superman, because he's fundamentally a childish fantasy of what it's like to be grown up: you know what the right thing to do is and you do it. Superman has to wrestle with adult debates over morality, while Shazam gets to keep that pure child-like sense of right and wrong. It's why creators keep pitting the two against each other, because they make good foils for each other, with Shazam representing the "uncompromised" Superman archetype that Superman himself isn't allowed to be anymore. Personally I enjoy their interactions, with Superman realizing that he may have let life jade him from his optimistic beginnings, while Shazam starts to understand that adults don't have all the answers, and life throws curveballs at you that you simply have to respond to as best as you can.

Frustrates me that DC can't seem to do right by the character, he's got all the building blocks in place to be one of DC's A-Listers with a rich mythos and supporting cast to draw on. Yet he spends a lot of time on the sidelines, cameoing in other books at best. Given he's one of the few DC characters to have a well received movie that made enough profit to get a sequel, it's high past time DC prioritized the character more and put a team who can actually give him the attention he deserves on a new Shazam mini or ongoing.

#shazam #dc comics

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fabricated-misslieness · 3 years

Text

pairing: chūya nakahara x lazy male reader

req: yes | wc: 1.87k | cw: nsfw, size difference, praise kink, biting, blood, dirty talk, belly bulging | minors dni

anon: Hi! I was hoping I could get a smut for chuuya if you could make it kinda of a part two from the other chuuya fic u have and if u can could u add a size kink and a praise kink if so thank you so much!

a/n: you thought the demon was a himbo, ha!

"You know these don't tend to last long." You send the man pushing you against the wall a wink, making sure he knows you're still top. Chūya chuckles in response.

"I'm prepared for that." Chūya gives you a smirk. You don't know it, but he doesn't mean it. He hopes it is only your sheer amount of power that attracts him to you, but he knows it's not true. He really isn't that keen on having this be a one time thing. He rather it be a long, loving relationship, keep it lasting for as long as he can; if he has to teach you commitment, he will.

You raise an eyebrow for a minute, judging his composure. "Mkay.. good. You need me to lift you, though? You're quite a way down."

Chūya huffs and rolls his eyes. With you, he's heard something along those lines about a million times. He can't control his height and he certainly can't control yours. Jeez, it's as if you were a giant. If you and him stood next to each other, he'd look like a child, not that he was that much taller than a child anyway.

"Oh shut up with that… but yes." As much as he didn't want to admit it, even though it was very clear, he couldn't kiss you from 'all the way down there'.

"Thought so." It's the shit eating grin on your face that makes him regret this. "Hold on to the horns will ya? You'll need the support."

"Doesn't bother ya?" Chūya asks, doing so anyway. They feel rather tough, like how he imagined crocodile scales to feel. Your wings, on the other hand, weren't as he'd imagined them to be. They felt like leather, despite the fact they looked like rubber. He couldn't fathom how hot they'd be in summer.

You shake your head, in turn moving his arms. "Nah. Anyway, what do you think about the fangs?" You momentarily open your mouth wider to show him. "Would you rather I don't bite you or I do?" They're not as sharp as say, a vampire or a werewolf, but they could definitely puncture.

"Maybe test them first?" You know, what he meant was that you bite his finger, or something, not his neck. It definitely stung, but it hadn't punctured. He was sure if you hadn't controlled your strength, he'd bleed. He hissed at the pain. Though it was nothing he couldn't handle, you'd taken him by surprise.

"My bad, precious." That was a new nickname. "What do you think? Did you like it? No judge if you're into it." The mention of a biting link made him think of some past lover with said kink. It sort of made him jealous.

"What if I find your sweet spot? Would that persuade you?" You bite his neck, finding the spot that made him moan. "Knew it. They're usually there." He hated the way you rubbed your past lovers in his face. In time, he'd make you forget. He was sure of that.

"Well?"

"Okay.."

"Would you look at that?" Chūya couldn't focus on anything right now, the pleasure, and pain, was too much. You would pester him for how long he took to adjust for sure. "I'm balls deep in you and I can actually see it." He hadn't registered that first part until now.

He looked down to see his stomach clearly bulging. He laughed at the sight of it. You were really a giant, in more ways than one. It was kind of.. hot though. The size difference was already turning him on, at this point it was a lot.

"Sexy." You remark, licking your lips. If it weren't for your dick, he would want that tongue in him.. again. "Can you even talk right now?"

Chūya chuckles, fixing you with a playful look before pulling you down by the horns. "Of course I can." He whispers in your ear.

"Good." You move the slightest bit, though to him it felt more than that, which urges a moan from his throat. "Although I'd like to see you try when I fuck you with no mercy."

Chūya is flustered to no end, but as the competitive guy he is, he can't just back down, even with your dick inside of him. "Is that what you say to everybody? 'Fuck you with no mercy'? How about 'fuck you 'till you're begging for hell?'"

You smirk, shaking your head to mess with his arms. His hands were surely indented with the pattern of your horns by now. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Are you ready now?" You were going to nag him about the time, just like he'd predicted. "You've been sitting on it for so long you could call it cockwarming. But maybe you're into that, haven't discussed the deets just yet."

"What can I do?" You laugh. "Your dick is big, you said so yourself."

"Then the details. What do you like?"

"P-Praise." He's a little nervous to admit it, what with the fact he acts like a tough cookie. He had to build up some courage for this moment.

You shift a bit as you think about it. All of a sudden, you start moving slowly. It's still quite a bit painful for Chūya, but your praise makes up for it. "You're doing good, baby." Your rough voice along with the way you grip his hips with your claws sends chills down his spine. "Just a bit more."

You chuckle, toying with the idea in your mind. You thrust a bit more, barely even containing yourself with how horny you are, before stopping to ask. "Like that?"

He had bitten his lips to keep his moans from coming out; he'd nearly drawn blood "Yeah, yeah, just like that." If his eyes weren't shut so tightly he'd be so much more flustered by the look you're giving him.

"Think you're ready yet?" The impatience was clear in your voice.

"Mm, yeah."

Your thrusts are slow at first, as a precaution. It was a wonder how you hadn't started going fast, though. You'd been in him for so long without moving that the impatience and anticipation were building up.

"You can go faster now." You smile, but you don't speed up, which confuses him. He was sure you wanted more, so why didn't you give him more?

"How much faster?" It's only now that he realizes it's a cheeky grin.

Your sultry eyes seem to enchant him, making him unable to think properly; well, that and the thrusting. "I don't know."

"My terms, then." He doesn't like the sound of that. Luckily, you catch onto his uneasy look in time to reassure him, but your words don't do much. "Don't worry, you'll be just fine."

There's no warning after that. Your thrusts are quick and hard, just how you like them though only a little less than normal. After all, you'd gotten from, say, a 1 to a 7. Since when did you start calling your thrusts like a vibrator?

"You're doing good, baby!" He didn't know why, he did but he didn't know now, but he thought you'd sound more sarcastic.

His grip on your horns loosen and his arms feel weak. Just how vulnerable did you make him feel? He couldn't hold back from letting out a loud, high-pitched moan. It caused you to laugh, which he hated since he knew you were about to tease him. "High-pitched, just for me?"

He rolled his eyes at you, maybe a little bit because of pleasure, responding just as quick. "I mean you– oh! Holy shit!" He was interrupted by his own moans.

"What was that you were going to say?"

"Straying from– ah shit! Shit shit shit!" He repeated. That chuckle of yours made him realize you'd been hitting him hard on purpose to tease him. "Straying far from," He stops himself from moaning by biting his lips momentarily. "p-praise here."

You almost pout when he finishes his sentence, but you nod. "Right, sorry, precious~" You basically purr. “You’re taking my cock so well. Are you ready for more?”

“What?” You’d only just changed pace, so why would you- “Ah! Fuck me..” You hadn’t even given him time to answer, and you didn’t mean to either. This pace was the fastest, and roughest, Chūya had ever felt before, and god, did he love it. He could barely even form words, apart from curse words that were oh so familiar. The only thing that left his mouth were moans and he couldn’t even bite his lips.

“Mm, can’t talk anymore?” You weren’t really good at praise, were you? Well, it was new to you, since most of your lovers turned masochists at the sight of you. You didn’t make them, they just did. smug hoe

His arms, tired and a little sore, fall from your horns and grip your wings, which are wrapped around him. It causes you to hiss, but it’s a mere feeling in the back of your head from all the pleasure you’re getting. “Careful with those, darl.” You say with a chuckle. “You can’t break them in your state right now, but they still hurt.”

“S-Sorry.” He manages to say, continuing with moans afterward. They’re high pitched, most of them, as much as he tries to at least make them a little lower.

“Oh? A word?” Your smirk is as much a nightmare as it is a dream. He wants to punch it off your face but also kiss it off your lips. “Right, right, praise. You take me in so well~” Chūya just barely manages a laugh.

“Ah, fuck!” Chūya shouts. He can feel himself getting closer and closer.

You smirk, moving to his neck, kissing and nipping. Your fangs sting his neck everytime you bite down, but you make sure to control yourself. Though sooner or later you’ll bite him and draw blood, it’s only inevitable.

“Go on, baby. Come loose for me, let me feel your seed on my abs.” You move to his ear, whispering and licking the lobe.

Your words are what sends him over the edge of bliss. His seed spills all over the both of you, which is a turn on for sure; it moves with his constantly bulging belly.

You close your eyes when you feel yourself coming closer. Instinctively, you move to his neck, giving him a harsh bite, which makes Chūya groan. You couldn’t control yourself from not biting him, even when his neck is already littered with other marks. Blood drips from the wound, two small holes.

It’s only when you go over the edge that you apologize. You move off of him, pulling him on top of you instead. He snuggles into your body, hissing in pain. “Sorry.” You move your wings to wipe the blood away.

“It’s fine… well, not really, but eh.”

You chuckle, keeping one wing on the wound and the other over the top of you. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

The promise of another time is reassuring, whether it be sexual or not, though he rather it be a date. He likes to know he has a little bit of a chance.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x male reader #chuuya nakahara x male reader #bsd x reader #bsd x male reader #bsd smut #anonymousrequest #⚠️nsfw🙈

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 11: Under Pressure •

TRIGGER WARNINGS: blatant homophobia from Nicklesmart The Beatboxing Jester™️ in disguise as someone you know, internalized homophobia throughout the whole chapter. As usual, will put a skip marker for the heavier scene before and after if you need/want to skip. It is not light, ngl 😔 [trigger words: f*iry + the f slur, each used on exactly one occasion, and (as an insult) queer. I'm so sorry, this was not easy for me either and please do not read this if any of this in any way bothers you, i won't be mad if you skip the chapter 💕]

A/N: Next chapter will be all fluff I promise 🥲, I'm so sorry, but I needed something that could solidify Richie and Y/n's friendship for good, and her helping him through his worst fear is the best way to do that and will be explored in other ways throughout the rest of the series, specifically in the sequel. all that aside, I missed you guys and this series so much!!

LGBTQ+ RESOURCES AND SELF HELP LINKS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CHAPTER

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

- 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

Richie keeps his eyes trained on the dried mud on his navy blue slip-ons as he makes his way across town, his mind buzzing twice as fast as it normally did. He felt as if his entire body had been put through a blender; his skull still vibrating in his head turning his brain into jelly. His stomach empty and lurching as it twisted into knots far more impossible than what you'd see from a circus performer and his heartbeat could rival a hummingbird's. Not to mention he was walking with two extra legs he'd grow from time to time, another freaky affect the physical and mental toll these past few weeks had put on him and his eyesight. The caffeine he had been living on hadn't helped him one bit either he reckoned.

Insomnia had become his best friend in the past few weeks, hence this last-minute trip to the old gravel pit just behind Derry Town dump. At least, this was the lie he told himself to pluck up enough courage to call Y/n up. Richie hoped she could talk him through it, give him some advice. He was never this nervous to talk to her and deep down in a corner he wished to bury forever - that small part of himself that begged to be free - knew exactly why. This small, repressed Richie Tozier that lived locked away in the center of his heart was calling the shots that day. Hell, he probably had been his whole life but he wasn't ready to admit that to himself yet, let alone his true attentions of seeking her help.

All he knew is he was nervous as all hell, his palms were sweating, he couldn't stop fiddling with his glasses and he was sure one wrong move and he'd shit his pants. For fucks sake, he needed to shake this! He had already freaked Y/n out, that he knew. He could still hear her voice over the receiver. It was soaked in static and every 's', or 'c' sound she made felt like a pencil was being shoved into his eardrums cause of her shitty outdated telephone.

"You," she had asked with a pause. "want to meet at... the dump?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, scratching the same spot behind his ear for what had to be the billionth time out of nervous habit. "you got wax in your ears, L/n?"

"Nope. Just, a little confused is all. You seem kinda... I don't know, squirrely," she said wearily, and through a sharp crackling hiss from the receiver he can make out a nervous chuckle on her end. "You sure nothin' jumped up your ass or anything?"

He bit his lip. Hard. As if punishing himself for drawing her suspicions this early. What if she somehow caught on to what he was gonna talk to her about? Her walk to the gravel pit would surely give her enough time to get to that conclusion, and Richie wasn't daft. He knew he wasn't exactly subtle about... "insomnia". What with how many times he teased insomnia, called it that special nickname he knew it hated but secretly loved. That forbidden flutter in his chest when insomnia would laugh at his jokes, and the small but precious moments they shared from time to time when the others were late that would stay in his heart and mind for weeks to come. But it didn't matter now, as everyone knew; insomnia kept Y/n's company now.

Thankfully his mouth was faster than his brain, and it fired a rapid response before a lull could form.

"You bet your fur," he fires, his lanky arm had rested awkwardly against the wall beside the wall mount. "I am right as rain, toots."

He of course hadn't seen it, but she had frowned at her phone. Her concern was growing with every word spoken from him.

"Yeah," she snorts, throwing back a sarcastic remark. "Cause you sound it."

She had eased a bit, growing soft and falling back into their usual banter. Their special dynamic always seemed to coax down his guard a bit.

"You're talking like a 1950's gangster in a speakeasy," She straightened a little and had begun pacing as much as the phone cord would allow her. "Ya know... More than usual."

Y/n smiled when she could practically hear the smirk taking over his face, and she certainly had no trouble picturing his hunched shoulders and intimidating snarl he was most likely dawning.

"It's a little somethin' called moxie, kid," he spoke with curled his words, imitating all the gangsters he had seen in those cheesy old films. "somethin' you just don't have,"

Y/n had rolled her eyes again, at least Richie could see her doing so when he heard her respond. "Right, right. My bad Baby Face."

"Hey!" He barked, snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor as if she could see him. His voice lowered in a thick Chicago accent. "That's mista Baby Face to ya."

"Mista Baby Face Nelson!" She strained, her annoyed shout tainted with a laugh. "Are we meeting at five or not?"

Richie released a quick and silent breath, expelling as many nerves as possible.

"You bet your fur."

The exchange kept playing over and over in his mind and Richie wondered if the same rang true for Y/n. He hoped not, cause that would mean she was thinking about it too much. Hell, he was thinking about it too much now. A heavy sigh rolls off of his chest as every anxiety collectively manifests into its own dark thought.

Fuck, he really had it bad.

How pathetic he was.

Eddie would surely be horrified to know what Richie really thought of him, that was for sure.

And as if he hadn't felt crazy enough, the thoughts actually began to feel like voices calling him from the darkest shadows of his mind.

'And the other Losers? You'll be lucky if they even look at you again.'

Richie was surprised to find himself fighting back, pushing back as much as he could. Despite all the jokes and jabs, he couldn't be completely alone. A small part whispered in his heart that he wasn't, and he thought briefly of the turtle strangely enough but it was gone just as soon as it had come. All he knew was that whatever was telling him this thing was stubborn. But so was Richie Tozier.

He treated it as an intrusive thought. Made a decision then and there that it was, never occurring to him what it could be if wasn't.

No way. Not those assholes, he tells the voice. These are the Losers for fucks sake!

The more he thought about it the more he was sure of it. God forbid Eddie did find out, which Richie had no intention of, and what would happen was in fact unclear. But no matter how he looked at it, he just couldn't picture the little spaghetti man ever cutting him out of his life completely. Not by choice at least.

Now Ben, that lovable sappy haystack of his that was too passionate for his own good. Richie may not be the silent type but he does pick up on things, and Hanscom's affections for Beverly Marsh were far from subtle. Always opening doors for her and turning redder than a tomato when she smiled at him. Not to mention Richie was about ninety percent sure there was a poem of some sort involved. And that was just Beverly, Ben was always thinking of the Losers. Now Richie knew for sure that boy had no hateful bone in his body to the point it was fucking annoying.

Mike, Richie felt, might be a little similar. The kid had a lot of heart, always going on about the animals on his farm. Would even go as far to say he considered them his friends, what with how much Richie knew about Mooriuel the calf and he hadn't even met her for cripes sake! Richie imagined he'd be a bit more shocked but would try some sappy speech when he came around. Would make a whole big thing of it, pat him on the back, and even invite a conversation. He scoffed at the thought, the image of Mike slapping him on the back and his signature grin... Yeah, he appreciated the hypothetical gesture but it wasn't Richie's style.

He could easily see Big Bill sputtering up a storm, but managing a smile. He'd probably even manage to forget their differences long enough to say something stupid but supportive. And Beverly and Stan were the ones he worried about the least. Stan would probably be too indifferent to care, throw him some snarky ass comment like, "took ya long enough, dipshit," and Beverly? Well, Beverly had always been cool, very laid back. She never took shit, and she never dished it out if she didn't think it was deserved which Richie admired greatly. This was one of many reasons he was so shocked she had taken Bill's side in the fight.

The thought brings him back down again, and as soon as the memory touches him so do the nerves in his jaw tensing up again where he had been hit. He could feel the punch all over again. And he suddenly remembers why he is here.

He is here, he realized.

Just around the bend, coming into view was the gravel pit. Old and crumbling it was, and overrun with weeds and bushes. One could easily scale in and out of it, and at the very bottom Rich had discovered one day was a beaten and tattered leather seat from a car that found its way from the junkyard just a ways over. This was where he told Y/n to meet him.

Y/n...

Jesus fuck, what would Y/n say? How would he tell her? Would she still wanna be friends with him? Would she laugh and crack a joke, not taking it seriously? Would she hate him for it? More importantly, why in the ever-loving fuck was he here and willing to tell her?

His gangly legs tumble into a sprint as he picks up momentum descending the uneven terrain. The rubber soles of his shoes kicking up the layers of dirt and shaved gravel that lay beneath the rocks and he had to put effort into not crashing as he comes to a stop. He manages to avoid a nasty fall, completely ignorant to the fact that his right foot had been only inches away from a root peeking out from the rocks surely would have broken his neck had he made even one wrong move. He puffs out his chest, dusting himself off, and once again tries to dispel the nausea broiling in his stomach like hot tar.

He closes his eyes tiredly as he drags his feet to the leather bench, letting his backside fall through the air and into the somewhat plush cushion with a deep groan. "Fuck."

His fingers rub his tired eyes, his fingertips finding bits of crust he hadn't gotten earlier and his knuckles brush his glasses further up onto his forehead. Not quite knowing what to do with the overwhelming thoughts and emotions clouding him, his fingers dig further into his eye sockets until all he can see are inky splotches behind his eyes.

Richie doesn't know why he would ever think those things of Y/n. He hadn't ever told her this, not directly at least, but she was just about the only person in the world he trusted most. He knew in his heart of hearts this was why he found himself dialing her number before he could even register what he was doing. Even after their separation and the bitter feelings they took with it, the Losers were and always would be his best friends in the world.

So why did everything about this feel so wrong?

From the moment the phone call ended, he felt like he was waltzing into a trap like some putz...

"Well, look who it is..." snarled a voice from up above the surface.

Richie's blood ran cold and it felt as if the remainder of the air in his lungs had been squeezed out like air in a deflating balloon. He whipped around at the voice, his head twisting up at the silhouetted figure so fast he was shocked he hadn't broken his own neck. The figure held their hands on their hips, thousands of the sun's rays spilling around them as they blocked out a part of the sun, an advantage they reaped from where they stood before Richie at just the right angle. His breath caught in his throat as he had recognized the voice immediately, but the figure didn't quite match the voice.

The last thing person he needed to see right now was Henry fucking Bowers, that was for sure.

The universe agreed so it would seem. The figure shifted, just out of the light revealing the teasing smirk of his best friend Y/n. Her hands snapped together, her palms forming a handgun, the barrel aiming right at Richie's forehead.

"The jig is up," she snarled. "We knows it was you. You was the ones to steal from Big Bill's dame, and I wouldn't be surprised if yous was in cahoots, neithers."

Despite the fear that had clutched his heart only seconds ago, a small chortle left Richie at how awful her accent was. Hadn't she learned anything from him? A smug smile overtook Y/n's face as he broke. She holstered her handguns and gracefully descended the pile of gravel. His smile expired not long after, and despite the thin veil of clouds creeping over the sun the light in the sky was much too hard to even glance at his friend without blinking back several painful searing tears from the harsh light. But he could still make her out.

She was dressed in her usual ratty and eclectic garb; a mix of something far too big for her frame and something that seemed far too tight to be comfortable. Richie was certain she had never once owned even a thread of clothing that had always been hers. Her s/c brow had its usual, light glossy sheen of grease that Richie had learned very early on to not ask about. But there was something about her now, something he couldn't quite place.

Though one question kept popping up in his mind. One that left an itch in his brain he couldn't quite scratch in his dazed state. And that was how could he have possibly thought she sounded like Henry Bowers?

He finds himself looking down at the gravel now, wiping away as much of the sun's damage pooling in his eyes as he can. Unbeknownst to him, she watches him studiously, the ghost of her smile still on her lips as if she was enjoying his discomfort. His long and gangly limbs are folded awkwardly, still, onto the leather seat that sits on the ground. Finally, she takes a seat beside him with a huff as he had.

As he rubs his tired eyes for a second time she takes a long look around, breaking the silence when her trip around the gravel pit lands on him.

"Well, you've looked better." She quips, offering a smile.

Richie snorts, pushing his slipping glasses up the bridge of his nose with a friendly smirk. "This comin' from Raggedy Ann?"

They both breathe a small laugh and for a moment - just one beautiful, fleeting moment - Richie forgets he was ever scared. This is what he needed.

"So," she says, pulling his gaze towards her, sending him a cocky smile as a knowing look sparkles behind her eyes. "I'm guessing there's a reason I'm here, and not helping you with your summer training?"

Richie, for reasons unknown to him, feels his muscles tense up again involuntarily. Like a puppeteer suddenly yanking the strings, ripping his shoulders up to his ears and his muscles bracing. He felt rigid and he was, but he was doing all he could not to show it. All his unease came back in steady waves marching up the sand, but what could he do now? He could already feel her eyes burning holes into the side of his head as he kicked around a sizeable rock with the toe of his shoe, studying him. Waiting.

Finally, his shoulders slumped in a shrug, lower lip in an indifferent pout as he looked around at the sky hanging above the gravel pit.

"Just needed a change from all those ugly mugs, I guess," he manages a laugh, and he rises to his feet to lazily chase the rock that had rolled out of his reach.

He can feel her eyes on him still, and he doesn't know what to make of it until finally she breaks her silence with a chuckle and rises to join him. She catches the rock with the heel of her dirtied sneakers. They're worn down to the very last thread and several shades off from the original color. She kicks the rock back to him, and they engage in a lazy game of rock soccer.

"I can understand that," she says calmly, eyes trained on the rock as it tumbles across the gravel with several chunky clanks. "Reckon it'll be good for you, too,"

He frowns confused without looking up at her, winding one lanky leg back before one big kick. "Whad'ya mean?"

"Well, you don't wanna spend your whole summer inside of an arcade, do you?"

Richie's face freezes in a frown, the rest of his body going rigid. His eyes cement on the rock underneath his shoe, willing away the veil of tears that threatened to fall. Had he not been so caught up on why he was here, Richie might have had a clear enough head to realize Y/n wasn't there for that conversation, nor had she heard about it from anyone there. Instead, all Rich can think about is the small hypochondriac boy that had stolen his heart.

He can hear the conversation he had with his best friend, all those weeks ago when school let out. And if felt like a lifetime since he had seen that squishable, pouty little disgusted frown Eddie always put on that made Richie's inside melt. As if reading his mind, Y/n spoke.

"This is about Eddie, isn't it?"

Her tone is gentle but veiled. Something was concealed about the way she held herself, ever since she had arrived, something that Richie couldn't quite place. And there it was. He was right about her suspecting him, he must be. Richie battles the lump forming in his throat, and he can feel his ears turning pink under her unwavering and unblinking stare.

Richie does all he can to fight a snarky response, not knowing how else to navigate and survive the intensity of his feelings. All he manages to do is nod.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■]

"Rich, it's okay," she says, taking a step forward, his gaze is pulled to her eyes. And here it is, he thinks. The moment he had been dreading, the moment he hadn't even allowed himself to think about. "...I miss him, too."

His face caught in another frown. That's definitely not what he expected her to say. Quickly as he could, he wiped away a spot of snot at his nose. He had managed to keep the tears at bay but now they had found another way out. He felt like a fucking fool, and he wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Of course she didn't know what he was talking about. Why would she - how would she? His spirits were crushed, and he suddenly didn't feel like getting into it now. She seemed off today, not that Richie cared. All he wanted was for this whole day to be over with, not even knowing the worst had yet to come.

She studies his reaction, almost as if she had been waiting for this and she blinks for what Richie is now starting to realize must be the first time since she got here. Y/n's face screws into a frown, and yet there still lingered an uneasy smile that taunted him. Her eyes squint suspiciously at Richie, her head tilting in an expression he never knew he had always feared would come.

She laughs finally, a shrill and grating laugh he hadn't quite heard before and she nudges him playfully. "Oh, come on! It's not like you've got some faggy crush on him or something?"

When he doesn't answer, she scoffs, turning away and shaking her head in disbelief for a moment.

Richie felt he just might vomit. Or cry. Or both. He had never felt so distraught, so dejected. So broken.

How could she be saying these things?

He tries with all his might to conjure a response, any fucking thing at all so he wasn't some blubbering broken chump breaking down in front of her. But for the first time in his life, Richie "loudmouth" Tozier was speechless.

That fuck-awful grating laugh returns, a sour look screws up her face as she looks him up and down in disgust.

"Wait, seriously?" She gapes with a scoff, making him feel about two inches tall. "You actually think he'd want to be with some fairy freak like you?"

"F-f-uck off," he sputters, though he does not feel better.

The trembling in his voice, the vulnerability, hearing it in himself strips any remaining scrap of confidence he had left. He's crying now and there's no hiding it. And she heard it in his voice, he knew that now as he looks at her. Her lips curl into a malicious smile and she takes another step closer, Richie fumbles a step back.

"He isn't some," her nose crinkles as she continues to advance on him, the fire in her eyes building as he stumbles back to escape her sudden venom. "rotten queer like you."

Y/n spits the words out like they were poison on her tongue, and this was true in every way. Her fiery stare never left Richie, it burned holes right through him as she advanced on him like a wolf on a wounded doe. They were nearing the edge of the gravel pit, and Richie had nearly run out of room when her finger stabbed his chest like a sword's final strike to the heart, pushing him to the ground as she spoke those poisonous words.

Richie felt his backside meet several jagged rocks that brought even more tears to his eyes, though none of them hurt as much as her words. She towered over him now, the sun beating down on her back and pouring over her shoulders, trapping Richie in her shadow. She shakes her head, and he can still make out the pathetic look on her face as she glowers at him.

"It's girls he likes. It's me he likes." she points to herself, shaking her head. "He was mine the second he saw me, but you?"

She scoffs again, and her shadow releases him as she kneels to balance on her feet, legs folded before him with a snide look.

"You've always been the insufferable loudmouth he couldn't get rid of." A sharp laugh escapes her, the clutch on his heart tightening to dangerous amounts he fears it will give out. "Well, I guess he doesn't have to worry about that now, huh?"

His heart feels as if it has been ripped to shreds, the claws of the wolf had struck and now he was drowning in his own sorrows as pain as the heartbreak filled his lungs. Richie could no longer see behind the thick wall of glassy tears that blanketed his eyes, and the sounds of his own sobs amplified his embarrassment and despair. He was hopelessly broken, and he could feel himself crumble, each piece disappearing amongst the gravel underneath him until he couldn't be found. He blinked only once, but it was enough to send every tear racing down his cheek at once.

Another malicious smile contorts her face, her e/c eyes burning darker until they looked almost a completely different shade. Her lips seemed to stretch on and on and on in a way only one thing could. And it was then that it occurred to him.

Not one thing she had said to him is something he could have ever prepared himself for, each word constricting his heart and lungs and swelling his throat with the ever-growing lump.

Nor was any of it something she would ever dream of saying, he knew this now.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■]

This wasn't Y/n, this was never Y/n. She had never showed, and if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own fucking head he would have caught on from the second "Y/n" arrived. Especially that entrance, Y/n surely would have fallen on her ass on her way down into the gravel pit never mind the fact her accent wouldn't be nearly as shit.

But none of this mattered now. This thing that looked like his friend had him cornered, and It knew it.

A wicked grin overtook the mask of Y/n's face that chilled Richie to his bones, and yet it also reassured him. Y/n was tough and could be scary from time to time, but he knew she could never be capable of the pure evil that now danced in It's eyes. Richie's body was already in motion, his arms and legs scrambling for any sort of grip that could take him up the side of the pit and to safety. But the gravel beneath him was always shifting, rolling out from underneath him when it wasn't raking his palms to pieces and all he was accomplishing was a small plume of dust that clung to his backside.

Richie didn't know where it came from, but his actions were faster than his feelings as his fist collided with It's nose. And no sooner did the heel of his shoe collide in a painful crack that sent It's head back, did his eyes widen in horrific shock. The painful crack that would surely haunt him for many nights to come, had not been from the collision of his heel on It's nose but It's head - or Y/n's as this was still It's disguise - had snapped completely back and dangled completely off It's/her shoulders.

The only thing connecting her head to her shoulders was the suit of s/c skin. Protruding from the center of her neck just under the skin was the end of her spine where it had disconnected, giving away a disturbing lack of muscles and veins in her neck as if it had been hollowed out like a pumpkin. Her head rolled back and forth limply, and Richie could feel bile climbing up his throat, ready to burst out his digested mac and cheese.

His mind was screaming at his legs to run while all was still but a small part of him knew this was all a gambit, that it didn't matter if she was frozen stiff or not. Richie knew as soon as he booked it, It would spring to life with something even more twisted. That now, without his friends, he was as good as dead.

And It was more than happy to prove Richie right.

The clone of his friend sprang to life, It's head still rolling around on It's shoulders. Connected only by the skin of It's neck, and moving around like some fucked up slinky toy. Richie was already halfway up the gravel pit, bits of rock and dirt finding their way into his shoes as he kicked up the earth though that was the farthest thing from his mind.

By the time Richie reached the top of the pit, he could no longer hear the thunderous boom of his heart attempting to break loose from his chest, which was saying an awful lot. His screams echoed out into the air only to be swallowed by the screams of other children and Richie didn't know how he knew this but he knew those were the screams of Betty Ripsom, Ed Corcoran... Georgie Denbrough. The bloodied screams of It's victims were drowning Richie as he ran for the junkyard, and he wondered if he might live to hear them stop.

The screams were so fucking loud in his ears he could see them. Each of them a blinding, deafening, gut-wrenching, and blood-curdling scream that danced through the air like ribbons as they begged for their lives. Richie cried out and he couldn't even hear his own voice, but he didn't let this stop his legs from pumping as hard as they possibly could. He was nearly to the junkyard, surely he could use something to fend It off but he knew he was just buying time.

He could taste the blood on his tongue from where his teeth bit into his cheek. In all his short life, Richie Tozier would not have guessed child-eating clown to be the way he'd kick the can. When ever the thought of death began troubling him, he always liked to picture something like a western. Him and his rightful enemy squaring off against good and evil, he'd shoot first and save the day but still sustain an injury and bleed out. But it'd be a hero's death. And that was something.

But this... this was something born out of darker than evil and Richie was about to be pulled into the gravity well of this black hole and swallowed up. And he knew in his soul, the very pits of his stomach it would reach out with its shadowy arms and pull him into darkness.

And it did.

Richie had been rapidly approaching the edge of the junkyard without realizing and within an instant found himself on the ground, caved in on himself as he tumbled in the dirt and rocks accepting he was to join them soon enough. He closed his eyes and waited for death as a hand curled around his shoulder and pulled him around. Another jolt of shock shot through his entire body at the sudden contact, locking his jaw and paralyzing his entire body in fear as he was met with the new threat. He didn't dare open his eyes, and certainly not when he heard his best friend's voice again.

"Richie! Richie?"

It was her again, he realized. Y/n's real voice, the one that he heard on the telephone that was dripped in static. The one now dripped in fear.

"Richie?!"

When the boy opened his eyes, they were filled with terror and his sobs continued. A lense Y/n never thought she'd see Richie look at her through. Her heart broke in an instant when she realized he was afraid... of her. Instantly, she released him and let her backside fall back into the gravel. She watched through a thick wall of tears as he trembled, crying to himself, and never in all her life had she seen Richie Tozier so broken.

It tore her apart.

She didn't have to be a genius to realize what had happened here. Before she had even reached the junkyard on her bike she had heard his screams strangled through the wall of trees gating the area. When she had reached the gravel yard, she was happy to see him still in one piece but he was running for his life from an invisible force. The damn coward had gotten what It wanted and scared him shitless, but why would he disappear just because she showed? She had wondered.

Now she was beginning to understand. It didn't need to be here to scare her. Just the sight of Richie in such a state was enough to tear her down and it took just about everything in her not to scream into the sky from a mix of fury and fear.

Besides the tears that race down her cheeks and wet her legs, all Y/n could feel was a painfully numbing fear. Fear that Richie would never be the same. Fear that Richie would never speak to her again. Fear that Richie would never trust her again. Fear for whatever the fucking hell that thing did to Richie. Fear that It would do it again.

All she felt now was fear for Richie.

Y/n doesn't bother to fight the sob that breaks loose, her bottom lip quivers violently and her arms fall to the gravely pavement beneath her. As if her head had filled with lead, it grew heavy enough to fall into her chest where her chin landed, shaking several more tears loose.

"I'm s-so sorry, Richie,"

Y/n yearns to say more, but her body is physically weak from sadness and shame. Yet still, she repeats it in her mind hoping with everything in her it slips out of her mouth, or maybe if she thought them loud enough he'd hear them in his mind.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry for whatever happened. I'm so goddamn sorry...

"I'm sorry," she whimpers. "I promise..."

I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise I'm not gonna hate you. I promise I'm gonna be there for you, from now on. I promise.

Her sniffles blend with his own, and Richie is unsure why this is the moment he knows for sure this is the real Y/n before him; maybe he was just too exhausted to think it through, perhaps it was the godawful sound she was making trying to keep herself from snotting as bad as he was but he knew It had gone. And the Y/n sitting beside him — crying with him, was the one he dialed up today. This was the Y/n he had been prepared to bare his soul to. His true self.

So with one shaky hand — the other still tucked in close to his chest — Richie's left hand slid out from under him and across the gravel to Y/n's open palm. Her fingers were digging into the gravel, sharp edges of the rock digging into her skin as if to assure herself she was really real. Suddenly, she felt Richie's shaky palm slide underneath hers, carefully taking it.

Y/n picked her glassy stare up from the ground to look at their intertwined hands, and she melted a little. Several of those fears — not all of them, but some — were ebbed away and she looked to Richie. He was still curled up in the dirt, his eyes closed and silent tears streaking his dirt-covered face. Each tear paved a path of clean skin, washing the dirt away in wild streaks where ever each tear had fallen. Several large and swollen beads of tears collected at his chin where they dangled, threatening to fall.

She gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know she was there for him as she had promised him. And she was ready to sit with him for as long as he needed.

For hours that feel only like minutes, they sit together in tear-filled silence, clinging to one another's presence and the knowledge that they are now all they have left.

And there was no way they were letting go.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here are some LGBTQ+ resources for mental health and self help if you feel you need them:

How do I find LGBTQ friendly therapy?

An article on safe ways to find the best sources of help that are right for you

The Trevor Project

Self Care Tips for Trans and Non Binary Folks

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hobisenby · 3 years

Text

role model

jungkook x male reader

Summary: a young male, y/n, debuts into bighit. The boys from BTS take it upon themselves to help and guide him, but one of them in particular seems to take a liking to the shy boy.

Y/N Y/L/N, latest addition to the bighit "family" as some might call it. A shy and kind, but talented boy. But then again, how couldn't he be talented if he was allowed to debut? It was a surprise to the boy as well, his audition not having gone the way he hoped for. But luckily they saw potential, and looked through the mistakes he made.

During his tour through the bighit building they'd show him where the other artists work, so he'd know where to stay quiet, and where he is to work on his songs. He got a little studio of his own to write and produce his songs, knowing his debut would be soon. So when he was left alone he got to know the place a bit and then got right to work.

A few days later is when he ran into some txt members, Soobin and Taehyun. They all politely greeted each other and got to talking for a bit, the main topic being y/n's upcoming debut. They gave him some encouraging words, and a bit of advice based on their experiences, and then went on to join their other members, leaving y/n alone to wander back to his studio.

A week after that is when y/n first ran into Jungkook, literally. The older boy seemed to be in a hurry and didn't look when he turned a corner, bumping into y/n, causing him to fall over. Jungkook exclaimed in surprise and quickly bent down to help the small boy up. "I'm so sorry, I was in a rush and wasn't looking where I was going." But instead of replying the other boy just nodded, his cheeks seemingly turning red, and his eyes slightly bulging. Unknown to Jungkook, the younger boy was just kind of intimidated and shy in front of the good looking but sweet boy. "I have to get going, I'm sorry again." And Jungkook continued on his way, leaving the flustered boy behind.

Ever since that incident y/n had been bumping into him and the other members quite occasionally, and he got along with each of them well. They all seemed to want to help him with the debut and the stress that will come with being an idol. All of them offered a different kind of support.

Jin is mostly the type to make sure he takes care of himself. Always reminding him that eating and resting is important. Yoongi is the type to listen to the boy rant for a bit, maybe not giving advice, but the fact that he listens can be enough. Hoseok is the one that has assisted him with the choreography for the debut. Namjoon as a leader knows a lot about responsibility, and as a solo artist you'll have to face a lot of stress and responsibilities. So he gives advice and tips concerning all that. Jimin and Taehyung aren't people y/n runs into a lot, but when they do its all so natural. They talk and have fun, making y/n forget about all of his stress for a little bit.

But the one to have been there the most is Jungkook. And to be fair, y/n always goes to him the most, feeling the most comfortable around him. See, y/n is a very shy person, so approaching someone for any reason at all isn't a common accurance and is very hard for him. But Jungkook is one of the few people he would dare ask if needed. Maybe because Jungkook is and always has a huge support to him. Like right now.

"You seem nervous." Jungkooks voice is soft and gentle, like talking any louder will startle the younger. And to be very honest, it actually might. Y/N flushes, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of him. "I am." He whispers. He sounds very unstable and shaky, sounding like he might fall apart any minute. Jungkook sighs softly, turning the chair the boy in sitting on and kneeling, getting to his eye level. He gets close and lays his hands on the boys knees, taking note of how y/n looks anywhere but him. So to create eye contact he lifts one hand to the boys chin and turns his head to his. "Its okay, its been 7 years and I still get nervous when we drop an album, it's natural. But you'll be okay, people will love it." He smiles, dropping his hand to y/n's shoulder instead. This seems to cause the boy to feel flustered, as his ears turn a bright red and he chuckles nervously. "Thank you, Hyung." He stutters out. Jungkook laughs and pulls the boy up from the chair and into a hug. "Anytime."

"Whatcha working on?" Y/N startles at the sudden voice behind him, but doesn't turn around. Instead he keeps drawing. "Some sketches for upcoming mv ideas." He softly tells Jungkook.

Y/N is still that shy small boy around Jungkook. He still speaks softly, stutters and gets flustered by almost anything Jungkook does. And for some reason it drives Jungkook to him, he finds his responded cute, endearing. He loves it and purposely draws them out. Like this

"Hmm, like what?" He comes closer, almost standing against the back of the chair y/n is in, and lays his hands on the boys shoulders. It's impossible to miss the way y/n tenses under his touch, but doesn't respond to it. Still drawing the boy starts to explain his ideas, talking more freely the more he gets into it. Which is another thing Jungkook loves, how he starts talking louder and faster when he's invested in something. But instead of paying attention while y/n speaks he focuses on something else. The way the boy seems to jerk and tense as Jungkook softly starts to massage his shoulder. Y/N starts stuttering and tripping over his words, clearly not being able to think properly while being touched like this. But what neither of them expect is the yelp he let's out when Jungkooks hands wander to his back. Both of their faces turn red and they go back to what they were doing earlier, neither of them wanting to bring it up.

"I don't know if I can do this, Hyung." Y/N and Jungkook sit on the couch in y/n's studio late at night. Both of them next to each other as y/n talks about his troubles. In this case its an upcoming award ceremony, and the boy has to do a speech. But he knows his shyness will mess it up for him, and he's terrified. "You can." Jungkook simply says, laying his head on y/n shoulder and yawning. He feels the boy tensing one again but he doesn't milk it this time, knowing it's not the right timing. "You're y/n. You're talented, kind and amazing. You can do anything." He continues snaking an arm around the younger. Y/N coughs and looks to the left, the opposite way of where he'd be able to see Jungkook basically cuddling into him. "I hope you're right."

"I WON!!" y/n yells as he runs up to Jungkook. He has a huge smile on his face and his yell could probably be heard throughout the entire building, but neither of them care. As the younger gets closer Jungkooks first response is to wrap his arms around him and lift him up. "I'm so proud of you." He exclaims and puts the boy down. Y/N face could be compared to a tomato and while the smile is still on his face his eyes show just exactly how flustered he is. His excitement gets a bit lesser and the shy boy Jungkook knows so well is right back in front of him. He smirks, knowing how easily he can make the boy act like this. "It's all because of you, Hyung." The smaller whispers, causing Jungkooks heard to flutter.

He moves some hairs out of the youngers face and smiles the way someone smiles at the one they hold dear and love the most. "I told you you're amazing."

#kpop mlm #bts mlm #kpop male reader #bts male reader #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x male reader #male reader #fluff

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bellsyafterdark · 2 years

Note

BTW I hope I understand your request right lol, english is my second language so I am not that sure, whatever sorry for mistakes too. This is getting too long so let me summarize next steps in couple sentence: (1) RF was training w her in secret from the beginning, he realized she needs a good fuck after part2 (2) little bit fighting with lot of touching happens, (3)XL pinned down, couldn't help herself in the position and RF is born ready to go on, (4) XL still a virgin yet she has a pride

I really wanted to respond to your asks in order and pad this out with more plot but I got too thirsty, I'll backtrack to the others next 😅 In this story, Xialing is 18, Mattias (Razorfist) is 21 and Xialing did not run when she was 16.

Warnings for step-siblings seducing each other (watch the deleted scenes if you don't understand) training turned sexy times with frottage and Xialing's lewd inner dialogue

///

It is one matter to observe Xialing's training and suggest improvements (though Mattias's ideas were not welcome, she could not argue their merit), but if he must watch he may as well involve himself. Xialing does not know why Mattias refuses for so long to spar with her. When he finally concedes, he holds back.

She is not weak.

"I understand you are intimidated," she goads him one evening, the corded rope of her sheng biao coiling one way then the other over her wrist.

Mattias's nostrils flare, blue eyes narrowing. "I'm not intimidated. But if I hurt you, Wenwu--"

Xialing snarls. It's always about her father. "You think you could lay a hand on me? I doubt it. You are muscle, no mind. Slow. Are you a boxer or a swordsman? Your style is so confusing, you couldn't touch me if you tried!"

Mattias's jaw clenches and his hand almost curls to a fist at his side, reining himself. His immense chest heaves with the deep inhalation for calm, glancing away from the heat of Xialing's glare. He is so changed from the lean, over-enthusiastic kid her father brought home all those years ago.

Xialing herself had not changed much. She is stronger now. Angrier. Hungry.

"Wenwu travels tomorrow," Mattias says at last, meeting her gaze, piercing, holding, drawing her in. Xialing represses a shiver. "He'll be gone for three days. If you still want to fight, I'll find you here tomorrow."

Waiting. Waiting.

Xialing was a fool. Her whole life she had been waiting on the men in her life: for her brother to come home, for her father to look at her without the sting of grief, for Mattias to realise she would never accept him as brother, but could tolerate him as a training partner in secret.

Two years ago, she had a plan to flee her father's compound. Two years ago, Mattias convinced her to stay on the promise things would be different with Wenwu. Xialing was still waiting to be recognised as Mattias's equal, like a fool. She can do so much more than this.

She is finished waiting.

Mattias is early, already seated in meditation when she arrives the next evening. His energy is infuriatingly calm and only incites hers to boil over.

Xialing points the head of her dagger at him. "I will not be coddled. Give me your best or I'll be gone by morning."

His eyes widen in alarm. Good. A reaction. "Where would you go?"

She scoffs under her breath. "Why? So you could drag me home to him again?"

His gaze falls. After a thoughtful beat, he pushes himself to his feet. "You're right. Don't tell me."

Xialing believes she has this fight in the bag: she is smaller, more agile, her strikes like the bite of a viper. Mattias towers above her, bulked with muscle, raw power in every swing of those massive arms. He has been heavy in his motions, lumbering.

That evening, he is faster than Xialing expects. She underestimates the reach of his arm.

It's thrilling: her first worthy contest in years and it's the interloper in her home. Their fight brings her alive, pushing each other back and forth across the enclosed training room where she dare not walk when her father is home.

Mattias is breathing hard and she herself is sweating. At last. Someone almost worthy.

And then, a fatal mistake. She had been toying with him, confident in her superior ability when she noticed he was flat-footed in his steps. His hand lashes out, catching the rope of her weapon. She is yanked forward, stumbling, and Mattias lunges in to meet her, catching her arm, twisting. A sharp hip digs into her side, her whole world twists on its axis and in her effort to avoid that wicked, glowing blade so close to her face, she is flipped and thrown to the mat.

The air rushes from her lungs. Her vision blurs white out of focus.

When the world comes back with colour and sound, Mattias looms over her, knee pressed none too gently into the side of her ribs, captured arm still twisted back. His blade has retracted. His eyes are dark and careful.

"Satisfied?" He asks.

Never.

Xialing's lip curls. Her superior agility and flexibility surprises him, contorting in the blink of an eye to protect her shoulder, twisting like a coil on the mat. Mattias's eyes are comically wide when her legs hook through and around his leg, realising what she's about to do a moment before he's toppled to the ground in the wrestling hold.

He falls on his stomach and she's over him in a blink, weight on his lower back and bending that thigh at a unnatural angle, grinning at his howl of pain, palm slamming the mat in defeat.

"Hn," she relents and rolls him on his back, smirking at his dazed stare for the ceiling, face flushed. She does not relinquish the hold on his thigh and lifts, pushes it back, parting him to grind her clothed core against him and thrilling in the shocked noise that strangles in his throat.

His blue eyes snap to her, startled. "Xialing--"

That disarmed look sends a rush of heat South, pulsing between her legs and she rises to her knees for the leverage, scowling, daring him to continue. "I am not so easily satisfied."

Mattias stares, speechless, a high flush climbing in his cheeks. His hand claws helplessly at the mat beneath them. "What are you--"

"My father brought you home but you're not my brother, Mattias," she growls, head canting to draw his eye to the long line of her jaw down her neck and soft shoulder, bared around her training clothes. He watches her, entranced, wary, like he dares not to breathe. "But you can still look after me. See?" Her fingers trail the vulnerable curve of her throat to her exposed collarbone. "No one has ever touched me here." She holds his unblinking gaze as her hand trails down the centre line of her chest, between her small breasts, "Here," she palms herself through the loose cotton, watching Mattias's eyes narrow at the motion, a low groan escaping him as her fingers squeeze.

Finally.

"... You were watching me in the showers," he accuses her, a new gravely quality in his voice she has never heard before.

Xialing swallows down the moisture suddenly gathered on her tongue at the memory of his back muscles tensing under the shower's spray after their training a week ago, how his shoulders had flexed as he braced himself on the wall, head bowed to the tile. "You knew?"

Mattias's gaze drags from her face to her hand before returning to her eyes, arresting. "I heard you."

Her heart pumps faster and she rocks against him subconsciously, a wave of arousal surging through her at the feeling of Mattias's cock hardening. Her next question falls breathy, rushed, "What were you thinking about?"

When you fucked your own hand, when you heard me whimpering as I touched myself and you didn't stop--

The heat in his eyes steals the breath from her lungs. "You."

She can't stop her cocky grin. She knew it.

A huge hand closes around her thigh and she yelps, laughing, as she's flipped onto her back, handled with the weight of a feather and the knowledge of Mattias's strength only makes her arousal wetter, grinning at the sight of Mattias clambering over her, huge and hot, engulfing her in his shadow.

"Did you mean it?" He's breathing harshly, a strange vulnerability in his voice. His eyes search hers, appealing. "When you-- you haven't--"

She leans up on her elbows, thighs falling open around his waist. Tearing her gaze from the plush bow of his mouth, she purrs at the question in his eyes-- are you sure?

"Don't coddle me," she reminds him, words falling in their shared air, lips almost brushing. "Give me your best," she growls, tucking her heels behind his thighs and yanking him against her; their groins crush together and Xialing shivers, arching under his molten groan and the sensation of that hard, unyielding heat pressed so mean against the pillowy folds of her cunt.

The thin layers of cotton between them is just maddening foreplay.

Mattias's hand thuds to the ground above her head, breathing hard. "Xialing--" his brows knit with difficulty.

He's trembling against her. She has no time for that.

"Give me your best," she repeats, thighs flexing to roll herself up against him, sweet, sweet pressure where she needs it most; her words break on a moan, but she reclaims her breath, "Or I'll-- I'll be gone by--"

Mattias's eyes thin dangerously, he surges down and Xialing's cry of surprise is muffled in the crush of their kiss. She hasn't kissed many people before, two to be exact. She doubts he has either. Somehow, messy, groaning and deep, it still blows any of her expectations out of the water. Mattias moves against her like he wants her, all of her, making her head spin with the plunder of his mouth, the harsh thrust of his hips, and she wraps both arms around him for more, more more.

Their kiss breaks with a wet sound, gasping. The air between them is searing hot and starved of oxygen.

"You're not going anywhere," Mattias growls against her lips.

"No?" Xialing taunts, pushing greedy hands down his back and under his shirt to feel those muscles that have been the star of her fantasies.

Mattias bows against her, hips rolling hard with the possessive scrape of blunt nails down his lower back. "Nnnngh-- no-- I'll--" his weight shifts, bracing himself on the elbow of his amputated arm to curl his other around her, palm flattening under the cradle of her hips. Centring her for his attention. "I'll chase you down. Bring you right back."

Xialing purrs at the threat of aggression heating his voice. Her thighs hike high and wide, ankles linking behind his hips. "What would you do… when you caught me?"

Mattias presses them flush, chest to chest, face burying in her neck with a tortured groan. "God--" his hips surge against her, once, helpless, shocking a high moan of pleasure from her throat, but Mattias pants, shaking, "N-no, not like this--"

Xialing almost kicks him with the back of her heel, resisting the impulse to scream in frustration. Yes yes exactly like this it's everything she's been dreaming of for days. She decides to hook into his earlier interest. "Yes, I want it like-- you're the only--" her throat closes abruptly and she swallows to get past it. "I want it to be you. The first time."

The moment his expression falls in defeat, she knows she's got him. His face buries in her neck with a whine.

"I'm going to hell," he moans. "I'll be kicked out--"

Her hands claw into the muscle of his lower back. "Should I find someone else?"

"No," the answer is immediate and he pulls back, eyes stern. He glances at her mouth. His voice softens. "Nobody else gets to see you like this."

That's kind of sweet. Her heart skips a beat but down below it's the pounding throb of her clit that's steering all direction. "Show me what they'd see."

His mouth thins with regret and just a lick of his own frustration. "I-- I don't have anything-- I didn't bring any-- I didn't think you had this in mind when you challenged--"

Rolling her eyes with a groan of exasperation, Xialing shoves a hand down her own pants and strokes fingers up her folds-- shuddering as they part, short curls pushed out of the way to bare her hole and clit. Watching Mattias watch her, cursing under his breath, she circles the little, slippery bud, feeling the sparks of pleasure down to her toes.

"Then show me how it'd be," she says. That, finally, seems to be the order that pierces the shroud of objection in his mind. Xialing's thighs splay wider under the press of Mattias's bulk and she groans, deep and pleasured, when the hard line of his cock grinds their thin layers directly between her parted folds, against the slippery hole she cants up to meet him, clit firing little zings of heat under the blissful friction.

Mattias's head hangs to her shoulder. "Fu-uck--"

"Yes, like that," she clings back, and mewls when he obeys.

Head lolling, Xialing arches as Mattias rolls his hips against her, firm and hungry, never parting for an inch, speeding up when she cries out, planting her heels against the mat and thrusting her own hips up to meet him.

Time blurs without meaning as they writhe together on the training mat, frenzied and grunting with all the impatience and hunger of their youth.

Anyone could hear them from outside, anyone could decide to slide the wooden door open to see Wenwu's ward and daughter clawing and crying out for each other like animals.

The illicit thought sets Xialing's whole body on fire and she can feel the promise of bliss building low in her belly, hot and white coiling tighter and tighter where Mattias slams against her with all his vicious strength; she's close and his fevered moans are driving her wild. She snarls, whimpers, pushing her thighs as wide as they will go to meet Mattias's rocking thrusts against the wet mess of her hole, grinding the bright pearl of her clit, thin cotton all but moulded to the folds of her cunt, drenched and dripping as she clings onto his back to stop from sliding on the mat.

Almost there almost there you're perfect don't stop--

The strength of Xialing's release crests over her like the crash of the tide, head thrown back, spine locking in a low arch, thighs shaking and splayed on a full-chested moan. She writhes, clenching down on nothing as Mattias curses, crushes her close, hips surging against her, to hold and press excruciatingly close as he spills and spills, and she wishes she could feel it against her skin, or deep inside--

The thought is a cold douse of reality. She does not want to be getting pregnant.

Her head thunks back against the soft training mat with a sigh and Mattias takes care to roll off her, collapsing on his back at her side.

The look on his face is shell-shocked and he throws the back of his wrist over his face with the deep groan of someone reorienting themselves with reality.

It makes her laugh.

"Okay," she rolls towards him, ignoring his flinch when she leans in to kiss his cheek. "You've convinced me for another day. But next time, you better bring something."

Mattias's hand pulls away from his gorgeously flushed and sweaty face, looking incredulous. "Next time?"

Xialing's eyes narrow at him and she doesn't deign that with an answer, rolling to her feet to leave him stewing alone with his silly regrets and anxieties. Well, next time, she can be prepared enough for both of them.

#lingfist #xu xialing #razorfist #shang chi #xialing stayed au

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allbrainrot · 4 years

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Sjfkskd I immediately thought of Ashe for 🖤 from your FE3H prompt list!! If you don't mind adding hcs for Dimitri and Sylvain to the list as well I'd love to see your take on them but just Ashe is okay <3 thank you!!

Woo Allister here!! Heck yeah, I just started this blog two days ago so I totally have time to do all three! I always have time to write Dimi lmao that’s my emotional support Dimitri!! 😭🩹

Ashe:

- you’re catching up over lunch with the blue lions and someone (we all know it was Sylvain) asks you if you’d spare a dance for them at the upcoming ball.

- you casually reply that you’re actually not going, much to the surprise of your house members. Sylvain is probably incredibly dramatic about it and tells you that you’ve wounded him. Mercedes and Annette will try to get you to change your mind because they were excited to get ready with you, but when you tell them that you’d have much more fun chilling in your room they accept it.

- Ashe on the other hand, is suddenly staring very intensely at the table and silently panicking. He’s been trying to think of a way to confess to you for weeks, and was slowly building up the courage to tell you after asking for a dance. While he internally freaks out, he’ll probably pick up a nervous habit and fiddle with his fingers or the hem of his shirt WHAT THE HELL WE GONNA DO NOW.

- Dimitri is the first to pick up on it, since he knows a thing or two about troubling thoughts. He starts to ask Ashe what’s troubling him, but, being snapped out of his thoughts, Ashe just sort of nervously blurts.

- ‘are you certain you’d really be alright missing such a big night?!’ You’re a little surprised at having elicited such a response from Ashe, but you assure him that noble events just aren’t your thing. ‘Oh but umm you know that I’m not a noble either! We er-we can work our way through a little party! You really don’t even have to stay long-’ followed by a lot more rambling of Ashe trying to string together reasons that you must attend. You tell him you’re not so sure about that...

- oh this boy clings onto that little sliver of a response and all week he’s constantly proposing new reasons that he thinks you should come. At this point, any member of the blue lions that wasn’t already aware has definitely picked up on the fact that he’s pining for you. Some might even try to help out and encourage you to go just to hang out with your friends. You, however, long ago made up your mind that you weren’t going anywhere near the stupid dance and instead you’re just growing concerned at Ashe’s increasing distress and exasperation for you to go.

- you adore the sweet archer, you really do, but you just refuse to ever attend a ball. As the week goes by with this boy following you around with a very cute pleading look, you start trying to cheer him up in other ways. When he stands in front of you and asks you about attending again, you take his hands in yours and give them a reassuring squeeze as you reaffirm that you’ll be lounging in your room. When he sits next to you while you’re feeding the cats to ask again, you lightly pet his hair. You start sitting next to him with your knees touching in hope of providing comfort, and have even started holding hands when he trails behind you in town. Although your firm answers still make Ashe’s stomach drop, it doesn’t compare to the butterflies he gets when you start giving him affection. Maybe he’s starting to cling by your side more to get pats and hand holds than to try and convince you to go to the dance...

- tonight is the night. You’re finally comfortably leaning against your bed while drawing/reading/sewing (whatever you do in your spare time) as the footsteps of the dance goers fade away when you’re shocked by a gentle knock on your door. When you open your door to see a very blushing Ashe, you’re rather taken aback, but you gently take his hand and lead him to sit beside you in front of your bed. He takes your hand in both of his own and stares down at them sheepishly as you ask him what he’s doing here when he still has the whole night to ask someone to dance. He clears his throat and squeezes your hand a little more before telling you that, with you in your room, he has no need to be at the dance and must be here instead (if it’s ok with you). You are super confused, but tell him he’s welcome to keep you company before asking why he’s suddenly skipping the ball after being so hellbent on it all week. It’s then that he takes a deep breath and looks up at you, his face bright red. He finally confesses and explains what was going on all week, and how he had found he appreciated your affection so much more than any dance.

- you’re very surprised, but you tell him you reciprocate and pull him into a warm hug in front of you. You spend most of the night talking with him in your arms, and you both eventually fall asleep on the floor with him curled up into your chest. It’s a good thing no one there has a camera because when someone came to check on you later, man that would’ve been a wild photo.

Sylvain:

- you’re probably walking down the halls of the monastery when he approaches you, leaning on the doorway in front of you. Gives you a bright smile and tells you he’s looking forward to nothing more than a dance with you at the end of the week, if you’ll indulge him.

- when you laugh at his usual antics and tell him that you’ll be skipping out on the dance, he probably gives you the same reaction of being a drama queen and you punch him lightly on the shoulder before walking past and telling him you’re sure he’ll be plenty busy with any other female in his line of sight.

- once he’s alone though, he’s definitely pretty stressed. Probably tugs at his hair or clenches his fists as he beats himself up for his own actions and the impression they’ve given you.

- when you and Sylvain first started becoming friends, it became pretty quickly clear that you weren’t trying to cozy up to him for brownie points with his family. And by that I mean, you masterfully skirted around any advances he made and teased him about trying it out on every other female at the monastery, much like you had just done.

- because of that, you actually ended up becoming pretty close genuine friends. You were just a cool person being friendly because that’s just how you were. You started sitting next to him in class and giving him a heads up on notes, assignments or tests that he may have forgotten about while spending every hour flirting with someone new. He even started proposing to actually hang out with you as bros. It was pretty sick, until he caught feelings..

- from the moment he caught himself yearning, he knew he was in deep shit because you’d never believe him. In the meantime, you still shut his flirting down, but as close friends you really didn’t mind things like sitting knee to knee with him or leaning on him. You even occasionally ruffled his hair and indulged him in leading you through town by the hand when you needed to get somewhere. You had always thought of it strictly platonically; you just figured he loved physical affection and getting to receive it from a friend was a win-win because he didn’t have to bother courting someone. Well, you were half right.. Sylvain does seek affection from you all the time, but not because you’re friends..

- oh boy as this little crush got worse and worse, Sylvain has to physically restrain himself from showering you in cuddles and kisses. You’re just so cute and every little action drives him crazy! So he’s devised a plan: he’s going to be with you every second of the ball. Dances only with you, talks with you in the corner, follows you outside if you want a break, he figured this was the perfect way to confess to you. Surely you’d have to realize how hard he’s pining for you if you saw his commitment and the contrast to his regular behavior, right? Welp now we officially have a code red for the ONLY plan and Sylvain is freaking out.

- it’s only after a day of darting around the monastery like a headless chicken and baffling everyone with his antsy behavior that he leans against a wall, takes a deep breath and realizes that he may be a little dumb. Well, more like he can’t think straight when 99% of his brain is occupied by you. He’s going to be just fine, plans have just changed a little last minute. What’s the difference between being glued to your side at a ball and being glued to your side in your room? It spares him from the possibility of being interrupted, but it’s still a pretty grand gesture for him of all people to skip.

- tonight is the night. While everyone else sways around some daunting, packed room with people they probably don’t even actually like, you’re sitting cross legged on your bed flipping through Alois’s ‘hilarious’ joke book that you managed to snatch with everyone else occupied. You almost wish someone else was here to witness this (no one would even believe how ridiculous that book was without seeing it for themselves), when you hear two knocks on your door, a code you’d set a while back. At first you were taken aback and thought it might be an angry Allois, but you mutter a ‘you can come in’.

- you were even more caught off guard by the fact that it was Sylvain and he looked..incredibly shaky. He almost stumbles on his way to plop down next to you, and the anxious face he’s making confuses you to the max, but out of concern you ask if he’s ok. He looks at the ceiling and mumbles a broken yeah to you, and it’s then that you realize you think he’s..trying not to cry?? Your head is spinning, having never seen him like before, when you put together a narrative of what you assume happened, given the context of this night. ‘Holy shit, Syl are you ok? OH MY GODDESS did you catch feels for some chick?? AWWW MAN did-did she reject you??!’ you’re sputtering out words way faster than he can even start to respond to you, but at your last question, he actually starts to laugh a little at the irony. A bitter laugh, probably mixed in with a little bit of crying out of hurt.

- you instantly wrap yourself around Sylvain, petting his hair and doing anything else you can remember that he loves as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you to keep you in place. When he’s calmed enough to speak, he mumbles into your hair ‘1.) yes, and it’s been a disaster, so I’m a mess. 2.) I guess..not yet? But I’m almost too afraid to even ask, knowing the odds that it’s not reciprocated.’ It takes you a moment to realize that he’s just answered you while you sit on his crossed legs, pressed against him trying to be good emotional support. You think on what he’s just told you, and eventually give the best advice you can, ‘Hey, you can’t think of it that way! Walking away from a chance is much harsher than the possibility of being rejected.’ He sighs deeply before replying slowly ‘Have you ever just, theoretically imagined..dating me?’

- WHAT? Ok, that’s definitely the most unexpected question possible, it’s gonna take you a second to get over the shock. When you’re grounded in reality, it’s actually a pretty easy answer, ‘Well sure, after we first started talking, but naturally I made myself forget about it because it couldn’t truly happen.’ At this, he perks up quite a bit, and you can feel a little bit of his confidence returning to him as he holds you tighter. Time for him to play his cards, ‘So..let’s say, if you ever believed that I was seriously committed, would you have dated me?’ Alright this man may have just officially made this the strangest night of your life. ‘Ummm, I mean sure I guess, if I had believed you I’d have liked to date you.’ BINGO FOR SYLVAIN!!

- ok, it’s now or never for him, ‘So, do you believe me right now?’ he says in the sweetest tone you’ve ever heard from him. OK THIS IS OFFICIALLY BONKERS. You can’t help but tense up and widen your eyes as the realization of the true meaning of this conversation dawns on you. When you come to, your face is burning up and you throw your arms on top of his shoulders and bury your face into his neck to hide your embarrassment. ‘Syllllllll good goddess I’ve never been so utterly shocked!! Goddess, I guess I really do have to believe you after all this insanity!’ This makes him laugh, but a happy, genuine laugh this time, and he flops backward onto the bed with you still on top of him, clutching you close and rocking with joy/relief. At this point reader either conks tf out with Sylvain or lowkey has a makeout sesh idk man I’m tired LMAO imagine as you please

-future note after writing: OK SO it was really a challenge to write how Sylvain would wrap his head around confessing pre-timeskip so I lowkey wrote a wholeass character arc essay I have problem. I hope you like Ashe’s, but ima be posting a part 2 with Dimi because this post is like at its limit lmao!

#fe3h x reader #three houses reader insert #three houses fanfic #three houses x reader #fe3h imagines #sylvain jose gautier #sylvain x reader #ashe ubert #ashe x reader #fire emblem three houses x reader #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem fanfiction #self insert #fire emblem x reader #three houses #fe3h sylvain #fe3h ashe #ashe ubert x reader

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