#THE PART ABOUT THE NOSE AND HATING YOUR REFLECTION HELLO???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceruleancattail · 1 year

Note

hello! I absolutely loved the reader who shies away at selfies, can you please make a part 2 with Jamil, Idia, Leona (and maybe platonic Ortho?) thank you!

Jamil, Idia and Leona with a s/o who is insecure about their appearance

Theres nothing much that escapes the eye of a viper.

Jamil’s used to observing people, noting down their every move. It’s crucial for his duties. You never know who’s going to harm Kalim at any given time. Naturally, you’re on his radar as well.

For a much different reason, of course.

Kalim’s a ray of sunshine. He’ll say whatever that’s on his mind. Praising or criticising with a bright smile on his face. Sometimes, he does compliment you.

You don’t take it well. Always laughing it off, before discreetly switching the subject. It’s a practised art for you, isn’t it? Smoothly leaping into another topic, avoiding all conversation about your looks.

It’s rather tragic, that you don’t see what he sees. Don’t get him wrong. You aren’t a dazzling diamond, shining for all to see. You’re a little gem, peeking out of the rocks. A gem in the rough. Twinkling like the north star, guiding him home, back into your arms.

Jamil tends to hold your hand. Fingers intertwining with yours, palm pressed against you. Whenever you start to joke about your appearance, he’s giving you a gentle squeeze. Bringing your hand towards his mouth, Jamil administers small little kisses onto your knuckles. Fleeting little things, kisses like the touch of butterflies, landing on your skin. Staring into your eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.

Can’t really deny anything when you’re all flustered, can you?

Jamil does think you’re beautiful, and he’ll be damned if you say otherwise.

Idia doesn’t really like sticking his nose into other people’s business. That’s like provoking a bad-end route right there. Ain’t no way he’s going through that.

However, you’re a different story. He’s seen how you curl into yourself whenever you walk through a crowd. The way you desperately try not to look at your reflection, eyes shrouded in shadow. Idia’s the king of self deprecating jokes, but even he can’t seem to top yours.

You seem to make hating yourself a life goal, with the way you diss every single little thing about your body.

Unfortunately, Idia doesn’t agree. He’ll spend hours on the phone, whispering sweet compliments into the speaker. Telling you what he liked about your outfit today, how beautiful you looked when you turned and smiled at him… sappy things like that.

Idia gets all flustered, and his voice tends to peak at times. Hey, can’t help that he’s nervous, talking to someone as wonderful as you. An SSR, through and through. He’ll whale on the gacha just to catch a glimpse of you.

So please… don’t sell yourself short.

You’ll break his heart.

Leona’s used to people parading about him. The pride of beast men, flexing their claws. It’s a strength dominated world out there. No one wants to appear weak.

You don’t seem to take the hint, do you? Shoulders hunched, always trying to make yourself smaller then you seem. Squirming away whenever a photo is taken, shrugging off compliments like they’re the plague.

You’re quite literally the definition of a small, weak, herbivore. Trembling like a leaf in a storm. Careful, anyone could just take advantage of that. You’re lucky that Leona’s nice.

Yet his patience runs thin. Everything that the sun touches is his. With every self deprecating joke you make, you’re insulting his property. Leona pins you down, pressing his lips deep into his skin. Kissing every part of you that you deem unlovable. Lips burning hot, searing into your body.

Can’t stand to look at yourself? It’s fine.

Leona will just have to make you look.

Bonus: Platonic Ortho

He’ll tag along with you. After all, his brother hardly gets out of his room. Ortho gets bored sometimes.

The best way to acquire data would be through experiences, would it not? He does believe that hanging out with a normal person will do wonders for his database. Although you do tend to shy away whenever he tries to take a photo. That’s no good! He needs pictorial references to draw back onto.

You… don’t like the way you look?

Ortho thinks you look just fine.

He’ll insist on a photo. Ortho’s stubborn that way. Even if you refuse on the account of your looks, he’ll fix you with a blank stare, and say that your voice was not registered.

After this, Ortho goes out of his way to find you in a crowd. He’ll give you a genuine compliment every day. He likes your hair! He likes your skin! He likes your nails!

Positive affirmation is the best way to go for these things, no?

As blunt as his compliments are, you can’t really deny Ortho. Not when his eyes sparkle with joy whenever he’s praising you. He’s merely stating what he observes, after all.

You’re a fascinating human!

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nonclassyparty · 7 months

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pretty on the outside [masterlist + preview]

summary:

just take off that disguise, everyone knows that you're only pretty on the outside

It's not a secret that you like to get around despite the trail of broken hearts you leave behind. Jeong Yunho, the sweetest prudish frat boy in the history of frat boys, is supposed to be just another guy you'd discard after you grew bored of him. Very soon, you realize you bit off more than you can chew and that Jeong Yunho might not be so easy to handle.

pairing: jeong yunho x reader, choi san x reader, mentions of past jung wooyoung x reader

status: work in progress

notes: *evil giggles* hello! enjoy the little preview of my new series that i'm working on (i will be using this post as a masterlist for it) and it won't be posted until i'm done with soot. it will have nine parts, if you'd like to be added to the taglist for it just reply below <3

my main masterlist // playlist // moodboard // click to donate to Palestine

first chapter preview;

In his earliest surviving work of dramatic theory Poetics, Aristotle wrote, “A whole story is what has a beginning and middle and end.” This is not only fundamental to storytelling, it’s the closest reflection of an entire life cycle. It can be applied to anything in this life. Everything has a beginning, middle and end.

Which is why when San introduces you to his new girlfriend, you try not to be too bothered. Not only because it's his seventh new girlfriend this year but because, as all relationships, just like it had it's beginning and middle - it will have an end too.

Her name is Mijoo, her bleached hair is curled and looks slightly fried and the only thing that you've learned since she sat down with you is that her interests include pilates and taking care of her Instagram feed. They met at a frat party two weekends ago and hooked up in a stuffy room on the second floor, as romantic as it sounds.

San eats his lunch next to her while she scrolls through her phone and plays with her water bottle, looking absolutely unbothered that he barely knows his new girlfriend and seems like he has no intention of getting to know her better either. Hongjoong and you share a knowing look.

You can already tell that this is one of San's relationships where he calls it a relationship just so neither one of the parties participating feel like whores.

Still, the fact that he'd be in a relationship with just about anyone manages to leave a bitter taste in your mouth as you swallow down the last bite of your sandwich and clean your hands with a napkin.

You clear your throat, "I have to go. Have class in ten minutes."

San's head lifts up from the screen of his phone that he held in one hand as he ate, "You didn't answer if you're going to Vortex with us tonight?"

By 'us' he probably means him and his girlfriend and some of his other sleazy friends that he managed to make ever since he started going to the gym freshman year. It's definitely not Hongjoong because Hongjoong wouldn't be caught dead in a nightclub for college students that could only be classified as a dump.

You deadpanned, "It's a Wednesday."

San stares at you like he's not seeing the problem as Hongjoong snorts from next to you, "Like that's stopped you before."

You roll your eyes at him before looking back at San, trying not to dwell on the way his soft hair falls over his forehead. "I have my first midterm on Friday, so no."

"Ah, sucks." He says with a scrunched up nose and you look away quickly as you plaster on a smile that definitely looks sarcastic and a little sour.

"Well, see you guys later." You say, standing up and throwing your bag over your shoulder, "Bye."

San's new girlfriend gives you a sweet smile that makes you hate her.

You think about her and your own hypocrisy as you make your way to class. You barely spoke to her, she's done nothing to you and it's unfair to dislike her simply because she temporarily has...maybe the only person that you ever truly wanted but will never have.

You sigh as you pass through the door of the classroom that's already fairly filled out. The board stationed in the front filled out with a list of students attending the class, stops you in your tracks.

Partners assigned for Lab Exercise 1-3. is written in big bold letters at the top of the board.

You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes as you curse your professor who suggested this as an elective class. He said this class was a breeze to go through. Anything that has lab exercises is not a breeze.

Your eyes sweep over the list before they land on your own name. Y/L Y/N - Jeong Yunho, table 6.

Never heard of him, you think to yourself which isn't much of a surprise. The campus is huge, you'll always meet someone new.

Alas, you make your way to your designated table and are satisfied to find it empty which means you can slide to the seat near the window and hopefully make it know that it's your spot from now on.

You sit for the next ten minutes, scrolling down your phone and checking for your partner because almost all of the seats in the classroom are occupied by now and class is supposed to begin in two minutes. You'll be pissed if you have to do the first lab exercise alone.

Soon enough, a tall guy walking through the door a minute before the professor is supposed to show up catches your attention. He walks to the board, eyes roaming over it, he turns around and skims the classroom before his eyes stop on table labeled with a big number six and he makes eye contact with you.

You immediately look away through the window, trying to hide your grimace.

The guy, Jeong Yunho, even without ever meeting him before, looks undoubtedly like a frat boy.

A dark blue cap turned backwards sits on his head and his backpack hangs off of one shoulder. He's handsome in a boy-next-door type of way and tall. Definitely plays a sport of some sort (maybe soccer) judging by his broad shoulders and fit build. Frat boy and a jock. How boring.

"Hi." He greets you with a small smile that you return quietly with a squeamish smile as he sits down next to you. The smell of his cologne is instantly overwhelming. It's a smell that you can't describe as anything else except male and you feel like this is about to be the longest three weeks of your life. "I'm Yunho."

"Y/N." You say politely, again making eye contact with him that he tries his hardest to hold as he leans on the table by his elbows and his mouth quirks up. Oh God, here we go.

"I don't think I've ever seen you around, are you a Chemistry major as well and just new or is this your elective?" You blink at the question.

"Ah, yeah, this is an elective." You respond, glancing at the door again to see if the professor will show up soon.

He hums, "The Chem branch is a really small circle here so everybody knows everybody by now, that's why I asked."

"Right." You blink at him again, observing this Jeong Yunho as he starts pulling out a notebook, calculator and a wide array of pens out of his backpack. The last frat boy you knew, Bangchan or Chris as they like to call him because his real name isn't sleazy enough, came to class with a pen and a folded piece of paper tucked in his back pocket.

So, maybe you're a little judgmental. Who isn't these days?

The class starts and Jeong Yunho continues to make you hide your surprise at him as he actively participates in the discussions. From what you can tell, he's very articulate and smart.

That does absolutely nothing for you but still, it's a little surprising.

Not because you think all frat boys and jocks are stupid or something (even though most are, you know from experience) but because the way he speaks and carries himself is nothing but respectful and nice and it just does not fit the stereotype. An hour in, you expected at least a crude joke during the presentation but it never came. Hm.

Since you were extremely competitive, you wanted nothing more than to beat him to answering the professor's questions but you knew jackshit about polymer chemistry so all you could do is sit, faintly annoyed, watching someone be better than you.

After class is done and you're packing your stuff while texting Yeosang, Yunho gently touches your elbow with his fingers to get your attention. You turn to him and he quickly withdraws his hand.

"Would you like to...uh, go work on the exercise at a coffee shop nearby? I think it would be good to get a head start since we're not yet busy with out other, actually important, classes." He chuckles before checking the watch around his wrist, "I have free time now."

You bite your lip, thinking it would probably be the smart thing to do but you were texting Yeosang. Making plans to see him. Scratch that, making plans to fuck him.

"Uh, how long would it take exactly? Just so I can organize the rest of my day-"

"Oh, well, I have practice at six-thirty so I was thinking until six." He shrugs, his backpack hanging over one shoulder and making him look like a poster for golden college boys. "Does that work for you?"

It works better than having to work on the exercises on other days of the week. It just means seeing Jeong Yunho more than necessary, one day a week is perfectly enough in his presence.

You bite your lip again, glancing at your screen one last time before texting Yeosang that you'll see him at seven. "Yeah, let's go."

Yunho leads you to a coffee shop near campus that you've never heard of. Hidden deep between buildings and almost entirely empty, there's no regular customers let alone anyone from campus.

"I study here sometimes if the library is full. Nobody comes here." He chuckles, holding the door open for you and motioning for you to go in. He almost seems shy to let you know that he goes to the library. It's, unfortunately, kind of cute.

After you both order and make yourself comfortable in the small booth you've picked out, you start to work on the assignment. Yunho leads the way, as a Chemistry major, he's much more well versed in this subject. You, a future engineer, are completely lost so you just scribble down whatever he does and keep quiet.

He likes to talk a lot, you notice, after every done question, he makes sure to ask about you, your interests, hobbies, whatever and you shut it down every time with a dry response.

It's not that you dislike him, really it's not. It's not even that he's a frat boy and a jock that bothers you anymore because it's obvious that he's a little bit of a nerd as well. It's that, in the hour and a half that you've spent sitting here with him, you realized just how much he reminds you of San.

And that's enough to make you keep your distance from him. You don't want him, you don't want anyone like San.

The corny jokes, shy smiles, a blush that spreads all the way to his ears when he gets flustered, attempts to be cocky but then growing absolutely embarrassed by it that it ends up being endearing - it's all very San-like. And it's a version of San that not many people know.

Once it starts nearing six and you both start packing up your things, Yunho clears his throat next to you.

"So, uh, would you be interested in getting a cup of coffee sometime, like, in a non polymer chemistry related way?" He nervously stutters out, ears already burning red. You slow down the action of pulling your jacket on as your phone is in one hand, the chat with Yeosang opened.

Maybe you should've seen this coming.

He wasn't shy about the fact that he found you attractive since the moment he sat down next to you. You just didn't expect for this to happen so soon. Geez, how awkward will the next three weeks be after today.

You sigh, pulling your dark red hair from under your jacket. "No offense Yunho, you seem nice and all but you're not my type."

He seems almost offended by that as he chuckles, "You barely even know me?"

You give him a once over.

The matter of fact was that you did not, under any circumstance, date anyone or get into relationships. You had hook-ups, one night stands and no strings attached agreements.

If there was any way to describe your mindset it would be pretty simple - men, women, people you were attracted to - you treat them like horderves served in front of you. You'll take a bite (might save some for later) but that's about it, you make sure not to get full because there's way too many flavors, too many of them to try, taste, pick apart...

And if someone really managed to impress you, maybe you'd pick another plate up.

But that didn't happen often and when it did, it usually didn't last.

Jeong Yunho, in every single way, reeked of romance and good intentions.

The typical boy next door type. He seemed like a momma's boy that wanted a proper and traditional relationship, brought flowers and texted you 'good night' and 'good morning' religiously and had extremely romantic but bland missionary sex. The type to want you to wear his jersey to his games so he could take cheesy photos with you in it and, if he was religious, maybe he'd want you to go to church with him on Sundays. He was the last thing you needed.

If Hongjoong and Seonghwa found you with someone like him, they'd never let you live it down.

You open your mouth to respond to him but your phone rings and you look at it - a photo of Yeosang lighting up the screen. He's always so impatient. You told him at seven, why is he calling already?

You wave your phone in front of Yunho's face, pointing out Yeosang's photo that you took one drunken night while the two of you were messing around after leaving the club and that you've been using as his contact photo ever since where he's in all black, long hair tucked behind his ear as he lights up a cigarette, "My type."

Yunho blinks at the photo before looking at you again resembling a kicked puppy, you sigh feeling only slightly bad but still you have to say something more out of courtesy. "I have to go, I'm sorry if I seemed rude or something, it wasn't intentional and nothing against you but I'm not interested. I hope we do well on the lab exercise though."

He opens his mouth to say something else but you're already standing up and walking towards the entrance of the small, dingy coffee shop.

The discomfort you feel is only temporary because, once again, everything has its beginning, middle and end. This 'partnership' with Yunho will end soon so why bother yourself by feeling guilty.

#jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #choi san x reader #san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez smut

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sorencd · 24 days

Text

ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU

little moments with neil that you’ll never forget. cw: the moldy peaches

you’re a part time lover and a full-time friend,

“i promise you neil, if you even think of dropping me.”

your hands held an iron-grip on your forearms which wrapped around neil’s neck, trying so hard to steady yourself with how wobbly he’s walking right now.

“i don’t know, i think i’m feeling kind of tired right now.”

he started drooping lower to the ground, his voice cracking with each step. you could feel the smirk through his words.

“neil!” you squealed, hiding your face in his neck, bracing for impact.

but instead of feeling the rough, hard ground— you felt neil standing up straight. he was also laughing.

“i hate you.”

he smiled, “i love you more.”

the monkey on your back is the latest trend.

“i think he likes me.”

neil smiled from across you, disregarding the book he was reading a second ago and started petting the stuffed-toy on his back with tenderness as if it really was alive.

“yeah, you two look the same, too.” you teased, giving the monkey a pet as well.

“haha, you’re very funny.” neil monotonously replied, but a grin still evident on his lips, i’m taking that as a compliment.”

you laughed, amused by his reaction. you took a hold of his cheek and stretched it like your grandmother used to, “i’ve been practicing.”

“you should be a clown one day.”

i don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you.

“hello? are you even listening.” your friend deadpanned, upset that you weren’t responding to a thing she was saying.

“what- i was, i mean- i am. i still am.”

she sighed, rolling her eyes with a huff. “look, i get it you’re madly in love, just don’t shove it in my face, please and thank you.”

you were fixated on neil, he was playing on the field with his friends and he just looked, surreal. he still had his hair all tidy, despite being drenched in sweat. he looked breathtaking, despite looking like an absolute mess. he also looked very kissable, too.

“why do i even bother?” your friend laughed and lightly shoved you, pulling your attention back at her.

“yeah—i agree.”

i kiss you on the brain in the shadow of the train,

the loud resounding horn of the train in the distance echoed loudly in the tree-covered valley. you and neil sat on the edge of the cliff, hand on top of the other’s, listening to the crickets chirping.

“i think getting on a train once would be nice. the view would be amazing!” you said in a soft tone, imagining the different scenery you’d be able to witness alongside neil. imagining a world outside your everyday life.

neil chuckled, looking at your eyes with so much adoration. he could almost envision it all himself as well. the amazing scene he’d have in front of him—a quaint small room just for two, dozens of trees and fields and natural life passing by; almost enough for him to write hundreds of poems about. but most beautiful of them all—you.

the scene in his mind was could never beat the moment he’s living in right now, however. you’re eyes—reflecting the bright stars above, giving his life another light within him. he could almost kiss you, and he decided he will.

“(y/n).”

you turned your head, raising your eyebrows with a smile. his nose was only a few inches away from yours, and the close proximity got your blood running up to your cheeks.

“can i kiss you right now?”

now you could really feel the heat across your face. with a small nod, you closed your eyes and puckered your lips.

neil let out a soft laugh, “if only you could see how cute you are right now.”

“just kiss me already, perry.”

i kiss you all starry-eyed, my body swinging from side to side.

his lips felt soft on yours, and his hands were holding your cheeks—somewhat grounding you. your entire body was pulsing with electricity, it was like you could implode any moment.

unfortunately, neil parted his lips from yours, giving you the relieving breath you didn’t know was taken away from you. and you stared, stared at him with star-struck eyes that was being illuminated by the street light, your pajamas crumpled between your fingers.

“that- you were-“ neil struggled to form a proper thought, still buzzing from the kiss.

“i love you.” you blurted, filling the silence and overlapping the chirping of the crickets. realizing the words that left your mouth, you turned your back against the awestruck boy in a rush and blurted ‘talk to me tomorrow’ before running away in a flurry of emotions.

“bye.” neil muttered with a small smile, his cheeks adorning a pink color of his own.

i don’t see what anyone can see in anyone else, but you.

“(y/n),” neil whined with a grin, holding in the laughter that’s begging to be let out while simultaneously trying to keep his pajamas up. “stop pulling on my pants! you’re pulling my underwear along with it!” he desperately pleaded, walking away with your hands gripping the fabric with such strength.

“exactly.”

neil pulled on harder, he was laughing loudly now, enjoying the playful tug-of-war you two were having. before suddenly, you heard a tear.

you stared into neil’s eyes, and he stared back into yours before letting go.

“(y/n).”

“neil before anything i just want to say i love you.” you waved your hands in front of you, slowly walking towards the door facing neil. to your surprise, he jolted towards with a smile, and ripped pants, causing you to run like there’s no tomorrow.

“please—let’s talk about this!”

#dead poets society x reader #dead poets society #neil perry x reader #neil perry

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stlkrrbf · 7 months

Text

I’ll Crawl Home to Her {Rhysand x fem!reader} 18+

After merely stalking the darkened woods near the wall, Rhysand finds himself utterly and irrevocably falling for an untamed beast— a Grimm.

Note: This takes place in the same time of ACOTAR during Feryes life in spring court and is told in the readers pov. It is also heavily influenced by “Work song” by Hozier. This story will be separated into three parts. I would love to hear your feedback!

For two months, I dwell and stalked the unknown thicket of Pryrthian, keeping my shape as protection and comfort. A beast, they would say. They would whisper to each other as they passed the border of villages and the consuming darkness, telling stories to their babes about a demon wolf kidnapping and swallowing young fae. An Old wives tale.

I took the form of a Grimm. A overly large wolf with midnight fur painted from the darkest pits of the mountain. It’s who I was. The blood that ran through my veins and ateries, thickened with dark magic, can be traced to the beginning of this world. To the cauldron.

I used to hate this form. But considering my situation and the blood soaked terror that swept across the land, it was safer for my family and I to remain hidden. Being a high fae with unknowing powers to society was dangerous.

Especially in these parts.

I prowled the dark trees, snow crunching beneath the enormous paws that I’ve grown accustomed to. Narrowing my line of sight as I kept my guard up. Something, someone, was watching.

I whipped my head around, releasing a low growl to anything near, baring a row of Snow White jaws as a warning. A cloud of black, shimmery mist flooded the area around me, stinging my sensitive nose. A figure appeared beneath it. Bat like wings that shone in the moonlight spread out behind. A man- no- a high fae; A high lord; with blue black hair and a look of curiosity spread across his golden skin. It was intoxicating.

“Hello, you.” He purred, keeping his hands in the pockets of his black, silk pants.

He cocked his head to the side, flashing a soft, inviting smile. He was handsome, breathtaking. It was so long since I had seen someone who was the same as me. An icy hand slid against my spine, making me tuck my tail between my legs and back up slowly.

He inched forward as I moved, wanting to know more. “You’re.. interesting.” He began, “I knew something roamed these woods. But a high fae? Interesting..”

How.. how did he know?

Claws burned into my thoughts as I yelped in pain. They invaded every thought and memory I saved locked up and untouched. They tore at my mind. Finding a way to make me, force me, to change to my normal state. I fought the urge, pushing him out with all my might. The more I resisted, the more the pain grew. It shocked every nerve within my body.

“Don’t fight it.” He cooed, kneeling before me.

Before I could throw myself at him, I was engulfed in pain and darkness. The high fae disappeared as I blacked out at the stimulation.

ཐི♡⃟͚̊ཋྀ

I woke up amidst a midnight blue chamber. A bedroom. It was bigger than my eyes could focus on. Antique dark furniture lined the blue walls around me. The bed I laid in was big enough for at least five faeries. The black silk sheets engulfed my naked, cold body; and a large, iridescent mirror was plastered to the ceiling above. I saw myself.

I stared at my reflection. It has been months since i remembered what I looked like. My skin was glowing, shimmering in the dawn light. My h/c hair, outgrown and covering my bare breasts was softer than I imagined. And my eyes, those e/c orbs that was the only barrier between my true self and the beast before me, hard and tired. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I vaguely remember what happened before I blacked out. But the thought of how I even managed to find a place like this roamed my mind. If only I could-

“You’re awake.”

I whipped my head to the side. A familiar voice. A voice I remember. The same male from the night before leaned against the door frame, the black mist fading away from him. “It was about time too. I figured I went too far.”

“Where am i?” I asked sternly, my voice hoarse. “I demand you to tell me.” I pulled the black sheets up to my chest, shielding me.

“You demand me? Not a ‘good morning’ or a greeting?” He chuckled. He moved to the foot of the bed, and I pushed myself back against the headboard. I stared him down, waiting for an answer.

“You’re in my house,” he began. “My room.” He ran his hand through his black hair, letting it fall to the side. “It’s been centuries since I saw your family last. I assumed your kind died out as Amarantha invaded these lands. But here you are..”

“Why did you bring me here?” I growled. Prick.

He walked towards the wardrobe that sat at the right corner of the room. The doors groaned as he opened them. His back turned to me, I shifted my way of off the bed, still clutching the sheet to keep me modest. I backed up against the wall.

“It is normal for a high fae to shift into whatever their magic forms them into.” He fumbled between a few outfits, biting his lip as he studied the fabrics. “But the Grimm is rare. A Grimm with black magic coursing through their lineage. It’s dangerous for you to be out there alone.”

He turned back to me. That same, feline smile spread across his full lips. He placed an outfit on the bed. “Get yourself cleaned up and meet me in the dining room. I’ll be waiting.”

ཐི♡⃟͚̊ཋྀ

After bathing the months of the forest off of my body, I dressed myself in the outfit he picked for me. It was a sky blue top that rode against my mid drift, and cream colored trousers that melted to my curves. The shoes were satin and lined with the finest cotton on the inside. I brushed out my wet hair and pinned it into a low bun, allowing a few strands to fall instinctively.

As I hesitantly finished dressing myself, a tether pulled me from my core, coaxing me the way down the dark corridors of the unfamiliar manor. It ignited a flame inside me, a personal feeling I once felt before.

I slipped out of the bedroom, following the invisible string and gulping at the thought of who I’d meet at the end of it. When I reached the Crystal dining room, there he was. Sitting in a chair at the end of the table, his back towards the large window that spread out against the mountains. He placed his lips against the rim of his goblet, eyeing me as he sipped on his drink.

“You look ravishingly delicious.” He muttered. I furrowed my brow.

“Who are you?”

He placed his cup in front of him, shifting in his chair gesturing me over. “Sit.” He demanded.

I gulped, slowly walking over to an empty chair across from him. I gripped the arms of the chair, digging my nails into the dark wood. We stared at each other in silence, a look of amusement crept onto that annoying smile of his. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“Eat something. You must be hungry.”

“Not until you tell me why. Why you invaded my mind and brought me here.” I snarled. “Who. Are. You?”

The legs of his chair scrapped against the stone floor as it moved behind him. The male appeared beside me before I could blink. Placing his thumb against my chin, he leaned down, his violet eyes bonding with mine.

“The names Rhysand.” Rhys purred. “And you’ll be my guest until I grow bored of you, y/n darling.”

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #rhys x reader #rhys acotar #18+ minors dni

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

Text

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝 Part 4: Blacklight

Reflecting on your past can sometimes be the only thing that can help you move on in the present. And other times, it'll just confuse you- simply because you're not ready to understand yet.

Tags/Warnings: mc still hates kook, kook hates her too Angst?, enemies to ???, past regrets, miscommunication, Fluff?, slow burn, sugar daddy Jungkook vibes (hello hello mister), minor age gap, it's so frustrating Istg

Length: ~2k.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Before Jungkook jokingly invested his last savings into a random share on the stock market, he was a looser.

He barely graduated, worked in part time here and there, never able to hold anything long term- neither a job nor a relationship. He'd been lost for so long that his family really lost hope in him- cutting contact at some point, only ever really reaching out to him if his sister needed to have a place to stay at in seoul. It's how he met you in your final year- having spent a new years eve with her at his apartment at one point, driving him crazy with your easy excitement and pretty face. He remembers you having braces, glasses on your nose constantly slipping down during conversations. You were simply adorable.

And so, so horribly out of his league.

He'd been simply some guy working at a 24/7 convenience store, always taking the nightshift so he could take home some leftovers from the coolers to eat as dinner. His hair had been long, dry from having bleached it at some point, clothes dark and plain, apartment small and pitiful in it's existence. Meanwhile, you already knew what you wanted in life, talented in writing, grades not perfect but a bit above average to match his sister's great studying. Even with almost five years separating you both, he felt as if you'd surpassed him already.

It made him more resenting towards you than anything else, really.

How you'd help him wash the dishes, or offer to help him with dropping off his doctor's note at his convenience store to be sent to his boss at a location he himself didn't even knew, but you figured out not even after ten minutes of searching on the internet.

You were pretty. Well put together. A bright future ahead. No cracks in sight.

And there he was, trying to become invisible from society so he can rot away.

"It doesn't matter if it makes sense." You'd said to him one night after his sister had gone to bed, and you'd went to grab something to drink- having found him in front of his laptop on the kitchen floor, scrolling through stock market sites. "If you're interested in something, nurture it. Try and make something out of it." You'd shrugged, bare feet quietly tapping away as you left him alone with himself, his fingers making that fateful click later that night.

He really hated how much he admired you back then, almost idolizing you. But nowadays he knows that in some odd way, you became like a push he'd needed to at least attempt to change his situation into something better- and granted, it did change.

Quite literally almost entirely overnight.

And over the next weeks, and months, way after you'd left his life, he still carried your advice with him. He nurtured his newfound interest, learned more and more and more about it, and suddenly, he wasn't a nobody any longer.

Suddenly, he'd made it.

When he'd met you again years later, Taehyung having brought you along to a casual night at his newly furnished apartment, he instantly recognized you- and he knows you did as well.

And suddenly, that weird hatred flared up again, because you became even prettier now. Standing in front of him wasn't someone young and unsure anymore, but a woman, clear in what she wanted, content in what she had. You never truly complained over your life or any issues, only ever brought a lightness to conversations that felt refreshing and natural.

And at the same time, you began to haunt him again.

Not only with your character, but your looks as well- everything about you just horribly attractive in his eyes, even when you weren't wearing makeup, or were just dressed in a random shirt and sweatpants too wide on your body. It was stupid. It still is.

Because even now, when he's got so much to offer, you still don't look his way.

You still don't pay any attention to him.

And he hates it.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook was that weird crush you had when you thought you were convinced you didn't like boys at all.

With the way his sister had always talked about him, you'd thought he might've been some weird creep that prayed on underage girls on late night discord calls or something- but he was nice. Yeah, his apartment was a bit messy, his behavior a bit off and withdrawn, but he was nice nonetheless. Not only was he visually attractive, but also in character- a gentle soul tucked away in that tall bulky body of his, only shown in the small gestures he'd send your way. From the quiet moments of washing dishes in his kitchen, soft jokes said here and there, to in depth discussions about whether or not dogs can dream like humans do, or if love was more than just a social construct.

There had never really been any classmate or friend you'd felt truly attracted to- most love interests you had being fictional, as embarrassing as it is to admit that. But in real life, the male gender never really seemed to pull your interest.

And then came Jungkook.

And then, somewhere down the line, something went wrong.

The Jungkook back then, you never hated.

You could never. That guy was soft, gentle, someone you'd seek out whenever the day was bad, or just because you'd crave his company. He was just a little lost- but nothing was ever truly wrong with him.

He changed into what you can now only describe as a self-centered asshole, who really only thinks of you at all if you've got something to offer. He weirdly enough still shows traces of that old Jungkook whenever you're both alone- but add someone else into the mix, mostly any of your shared friends, and he becomes a suit wearing demon in disguise. It's like he looks down on you now- and not only because of the height difference, which in itself was an insult to you.

All of his achievements, all of what he now was just felt belittling to you. Like he was mocking you by simply existing.

Maybe it was internalized sadness over your own success, or lack thereof - having made enough to sustain yourself, but never enough to be comfortable and relaxed about money either, lile he is these days. And then there is him; having simply gotten lucky.

To this day it kills you to see his face in magazines.

Someone like him was bound to get paired up with a model, or designer, or at least someone better than you. And now? Now you're stuck with him in some fake relationship just because you always end up taking whatever leftovers life threw your way. Always. Even when you don't want them, it seems like.

But this might be all you ever get.

You don't want to be Jungkook's pity girlfriend.

You don't want to just fake date him.

So you take it.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"What do you want?" You ask grumpily, really not wanting him here, and he shrugs.

"Jimin said you're not answering him-" Jungkook says in front of your door, white plastic bag in hand. "-and we both know you love leaving me on read, so no surprise there." He chuckles, and in a way, highly probably because of your heightened emotions due to your period (that must be it, nothing else, for sure), you actually feel kind of bad.

You do leave him on read all the time.

"I don't know. Maybe I wanna know what's wrong first." He offers, and you simply cross your arms, signaling to him that there is something wrong- but you don't want to address it. It's basic human behavior- and at this point in his career, he's learned a lot about it.

After all, it shaped him into the perfect man- or at least shaped the way he can behave like one, talented in the art of morphing into whatever he needs to be at any given time.

"Nothing. M' on my period, not feeling good, so that's all there is to it." You dismiss him- but he makes no effort to leave, even putting his foot in between your door to make sure you can't just slam it shut. He loves making life difficult for you, so youre not surprised at all. "What? You brought me pads or what?" You try and jab at him, but he just laughs. If at or about you, you can't be sure. Both ways piss you off equally however- so it doesn't really make any difference for you down the line.

"No, but takeout. Your favorite, in fact." He smiles. "To feed the evil monthly demon, so to speak. If I had known about it sooner from, I don't know- maybe you talking to me, I would've, in fact, even gone out to buy the princess her monthly necessities, if needed." He teases, making you roll your eyes before you hold out your hand.

"Come on, just give it and leave!" You demand, and he laughs whole heartedly now. You hate that you like that specific way of laughter from him. It sounds ridiculous, all high pitched and insane- it's his real way. Not whatever fake shit he pulls off constantly.

It's a glimpse of the Jungkook you wish you could be close to now. But that Jungkook isn't there any longer, having gotten lost in the void as he'd grown up.

"Did you really think I'd just play delivery guy and not wanna have something for it?" He jokes, holding the bag out of reach. "And here I thought you knew me, love." Jungkook teases, and you hate how that small little petname at the end seems to make your stomach churn.

You blame it on the food.

Even later, when everything's eaten, empty containers on your small table in the living room waiting to be thrown away while you lay on your side on the couch, you blame it on everything but him. You blame your period for making you so easy to sway in your decisions, your mood for not wanting to argue, anything.

Anything is better than admitting to yourself that you actually want him here. That you actually enjoy his presence, the way he seems to offer his care for you. Anything is better than that.

And then he lifts your legs from where they're hanging off the side of your couch, up over his thighs- one of his palms resting on your shin while he continues watching the random movie on TV. You wonder why he seems so relaxed. Almost happy to be here. Your apartment is tiny- there's nothing pretty about it, furniture old and the sofa you're both sitting on has seen better days, that's for sure. And yet he's here, face showing him completely content. "You wanna sleep?" He asks, voice gentle, and that's when it happens.

He's being so disgustingly nice to you right now. Has bought you food, is helping you lay down comfortably on the couch, runs his fucking thumb over the bare skin of your leg- you hate it.

You hate all of it.

Unbeknownst to Jungkook, you're very much attached to him. Horribly so, in fact, and you can't blame your hormones every day of the year for that, sadly. Maybe your crush isn't so much past tense as you thought it might have been.

"No." You stubbornly say, and at that he looks over to you, eyes shiny with unshed tears. You don't say anything else for a while, before you can spot his gaze on you. "Stop staring." You again, very stubbornly reply, making him smile. "Haha, funny." You pout into the round green dinosaur pillow- or stuffed animal? He's not sure. All he knows is that he remembers where exactly it comes from. You've always been sensitive like that, easily attached, and it makes him wonder if you really don't like him deep down, because you're not at all attached to him, even though you're connected by much more than just simple time.

He tries, he really does. But there's just no chance with you, it seems like.

"I hate you so much, darling." He laughs, unable to hide his emotions any longer as you're staring him down, cheeks still wet with tears, fingers digging into the green plush dinosaur you'd told him you'd given away because you didn't care- but it's clear to him that you do-

Just as much as he does.

And somehow, in that moment, you feel like you understand what he means when he says he hates you. Because god knows, you do too.

So, so much.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #hatred au

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tobitofunction · 10 months

Text

🐉 part 7

This is taking longer that I thought it would but I was just busy with work and chatting with AI characters of my favourite characters

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part8

On the ship back to the Fire Nation you watched as Haku flew over the glitter water, his reflection on the water was as clear as a mirror image. “Y/N?” Ursa voice came from behind you,”Hello Ursa” you bowed your head, “We didn’t talk much since I got my memories back . You and Zuko are to be married" she began making you nod,"Yes, it wasn't of out choosing but we did find happiness and love rather soon within each other" Ursa smiled and laughed softly," That's good, I would have hated to have my son stuck on in marriage like my first but you seem to be a perfect match for him" you smiled at her,"Thank you it means a lot hearing that from you" you felt the boat dip a bit making you turn around seeing Haku putting his weighed slightly on the ship,"A dragon how beautiful, I told Zuko many stories of them when he was little","Zuko told me about when we first met" you said rubbing Haku's nose," I can't believe that our nation nearly eliminated all of them" she said sadly," I know, luckily Dragonstone is home for the remaining dragons and their eggs, but unfortunately not many hatches. It's not the Fire Nation fault entirely since the destruction of Valeryria dragon's has been close to exaction" you said sadly as Haku took off again. Ursa frowned and nodded, "How's Kiyi doing?" you changed the topic, Ursa was about to answer when was cut off by laughter, Kiyi was riding a flying- dolphin fish with Aang was sitting behind her holding her securely,"KIYI!" Ursa shouted gaining Aang's attention,"Come back here it's dangerous" she continued,"No need to be worried Ursa, Appa is gentle and she's with Aang" you tried to comfort hurt but Ursa still looked worried. Aang quickly brought Kiyi back to the boat with an apologetic look,"Kiyi, I was so scared and worried" she said hugging her close but Kiyi just began to screech,"Get off, your hands a cold. Y/N save me" she said reaching out for you with pleading eyes, you didn't know what to do seeing the young girl try to claw her way out of her mother's grip. Ursa noticed and let go of Kiyi who quickly ran to you, hugging your legs. You looked down at the girl and back at Ursa."Come on Kiyi, let's play inside" you said making her eyes light up.

You passed Zuko on your way, he was watching the exchange, he walked over to his mother and placed his hands on her shoulders,"Give her time, she will come around, she needs to get used to your new-old face" he said softly, Ursa laughed softly before sighing and gently squeezing her son's hand, "I know, it just hurts seeing her react like that".

You were changing into your nightgown when Zuko knocked on the door before walking in,"How's Kiyi?" you asked,"Grand, she was put to bed. She still won't let Mom touch her. I feel it's like my fault, if I hadn't come everything would still have been okay with them" Zuko said sitting down on the bed,"Zuko don't say that, Ursa made the decision, if she truly didn't want it she wouldn't have. Kiyi will come around" you said sitting down beside him putting one hand on his shoulder while the other touched his hand, Zuko looked down at your hand over his with a smile, he gently took your hand and lifted it to his lips,"Once we are back on land we continue our wedding planning" he said with a smile," Can't wait" you said,"Can I stay here tonight?" he said with a slight blush,"Of course, you let me sleep in your bed since my mother death, I owe you something even if it's only a night in my bed" he smiled and rubbed your thigh,"We soon be sharing a bed permanently anyway, so the more practice the better" he said again with a soft blush on his face.

A knock on the door made the two of you look away from each other,"Fire Lord Zuko, the Avatar, Lady Katara and Sir Sokka a preparing for there departure" a guard said making the two of you jump up.

"Do you have to leave already?" you asked Katara nodded,"We think it's for the best, as you need to bond as a family and we be only on the way, Sokka and I are missing our family as well" she reasoned, you nodded understandingly and hugged Katara,"Have a safe trip" you said letting go of her before hugging Sokka," Thank you for everything I can never repay you for the help you have given me throughout the last couple of days" Zuko said while hugging Aang,"That's what friends are for buddy, we are here to help with anything. Truly just send us a messenger Hawks and we be there as quick a possible"Aang said patting Zuko's shoulder.

The two of you watched as the trio flew off on Appa,"Go back inside, you must be freezing in the gown" Zuko said nodding towards you slightly shivering because of the cold air,"Don't be out so long" you said, you gave a quick glance to Haku who was slipping on the deck of the ship, his body tightly wrapped around him just like a snake would as there wasn't enough space for him to sleep like normally does,"I hope we arrive soon, Haku isn't comfortable with these surroundings" you said before walking back inside. Zuko looked at the dragon in thought, an idea was brought to his mind that he will be talking to his council about. Zuko was about head back in when he saw his mother staring into the distance.

Zuko came back to your room looking slightly unnerved,"Zuko is everything okay?" you asked sitting up from the bed,"I got this message from the Kyoshi Warriors" he said handing you the scroll,"An attack?' you said, Zuko nodded,"My Father's supporters seem to want to get rid of me no matter the cost" he sighed, you rubbed his back,"No need to worry Zuko, you have dragon's now nothing will can come can stop you know"," I don't want to rule in fear like my father did, scaring these people with dragon's will just make me turn into him" you sighed and pulled your hand away and laid back onto the pillow," I appreciate the idea though" Zuko said rubbing your thigh over the blanket. "So what is your idea?" you asked," There is secret route which goes to the palace my father used during the solar eclipse, a decoy will be using that one after having a public appearance, so the rebels know that I am back, while we be just using the route through the forest. Haku needs to fly higher than usual but take the same route as we do. It seems that the rebels still have no clue about him which is good"," Okay if you think that's a good plan, let's do it" you smiled,"I write the letter, I be right back".

The next day, the plan was set into motion, much to everyone surprise Iroh volunteered to be Zuko's decoy,"Do not worry Zuko, I practised my angsty hand waving" he said making everyone beside Zuko bit back a laugh,"Come on let's go" Suki said, you nodded and patted Haku's nose,"ao ready ñuha dōna valītsos? (you ready my sweet boy?)" you then climbed onto his back," Can I join you?" Kiyi asked trying to reach for Haku's rains," Sorry Kiyi but it is saver for you to be with the others" she pouted,"Another time I promise" you said making her smile, "Be careful"Zuko said, "You too. Sōvegon(fly)".

You watched everything from up in the sky, everything seemed to go fine when suddenly a flare signal shot up close to you, spooking Haku,"gīda, Haku, gīda (calm, Haku, calm). Ivestragī's ūndegon skoros's happening, sōvegon mirrī lower (Let's see what's happening, fly a bit lower)" you said tugging at the rains making him fly a bit lower, just as you broke to small clouds you could see that the carriage holding Zuko and his family were surrounded. "Should I intervene?" you asked your self bitting your lips, the Kyoshi warriors and Zuko are capable to look out and protect themselves and the carriage," Fuck it,mīsagon (defend)" you said flying Haku straight to fight.

Zuko was fighting to protect the carriage as the best he can but he and Kyoshi Warrior's were slowly becoming overwhelmed when he suddenly a roar/growl erupted from the sky, everyone stopped Zuko knew what it so did Suki but the others seemed to tense and looked around for the source of the sound when the white beast erupted from the sky landing on the fallen down trees roaring loudly at the attackers, the attackers seemed to be to shock to me move when suddenly the leader of the group shook his head," What are you waiting for keep the attack up" he spat making the other move again even though hesitantly "dracarys" you shouted,"Y/N NO!" Zuko yelled shortly after but it didn't stop the burst of Fire from escaping of Haku's mouth, the attacker's clothes began burning, panic screams erupted as they try to stop the fire from spreading,"Zuko get your family out of here" you said to Zuko was conflicted on what was happening in front of him.

After the rebels either surrendered or fled the scene you stepped of Haku,"Y/N, you were so cool" Kiyi said running towards you,"Really? You think so?" Kiyi nodded with a big smile,"And so where you Zuko" she said as Zuko approached the two of you,"I'm so glad nothing happened to you" he said rubbing her head gently before turning to you,"We need to talk once we are back in the palace" he said.

Zuko and you thanked Suki and her fellow Kyoshi Warriors for their continued support."Come on I want to see the palace" Kiyi said running past you towards her new home."Wow, it's so big. Come Daddy let's go exploring" she said once she entered,"Kiyi don't want you to rest first?" he asked his daughter but she shook her head,"No, why should I. Zuzu saved his like I knew he would, he's the FireLord after all and Y/N has Haku, so no-one can ever hurt us. So come on" she running off into the Palace. You looked at Zuko who seemed shocked,"Zuzu? Where did she pick up that?","I'm not sure"Ursa said,"Well it sounds a lot nicer coming from her than Azula" Zuko admitted.

After a while Zuko brought you into the Throne Room to talk about the incident earlier," I told you not to intervene" he said gently,"I just wanted to help. I did" you reasoned,"By setting them on Fire" you shrugged,"You attacked them with your Firebending, what is the difference?","I did it for defence not to hurt" he said simply,"I understand you don't want to be like your father. But you can't rule by just being kind, you need to have a backbone, if the New Ozai Society isn't willing to bow before you, break them. It's the only way. You need to be a dragon, not a sheep if the time comes" You then turned on your heel and left him alone in the throne room.

The next you all where having breakfast when a guard walked in and whispered something in Zuko's ear which made him get up,"I need to handle something, it be quick, continue to enjoy the breakfast" he said before walking out the room, You watched him leave the room, a weird feeling started to bubble within inside of you.

A couple of hours later your suspicion was comfier when Zuko and Mai came together to tell you about her little brother's kidnapping," Dark Spirits?","Yes they are called Kemurikage, dark spirits who haunt the mountains outside my home village. I recognised them from the stories of my childhood" Mai explained making you nod," I have sent a messenger bird to Aang as if we are dealing with dark spirits only the Avatar will be able to handle it".

Aang arrived within hours and Zuko filled him in with as much detail as possible. Aang listened carefully to what was said to him, he was about to ask something when a man busted through the doors, it was Mai's father. You watched the scene from afar not wanting to intervene as it wasn't your place to do so. While you were watching the scene unfold feeling of panic overcame you, your throat started to tighten, you touched your throat and coughed making Mai's new boyfriend look at you,"Is everything alright?" he asked making the argument happening coming to a stop," Y/N what's going on" Zuko asked walking over to you wrapping his arms around you," I need to go to Haku, something's wrong" you said.

You walked out of Zuko's arms towards where you hid Haku, the smell of burning wood hit your nose making you walk faster. Once you arrived at the secret spot you gasped, it was burned and Haku was gone. You looked around and saw a Kyoshi Warrior passed out on the ground, you rushed to her and saw that she was still breathing, but she was burned and had cuts all over her face." What's going on?" Zuko asked but his eye widened when he saw the scene in front of him,"He's gone, they took my dragon" you said looking at Zuko, anger and sadness filling you up.

#zuko x reader #zuko fanfic #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #avatar the last airbender #avatar zuko #firelord zuko

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peachy-panic · 2 years

Text

Home Sweet Home

Jaime’s first day under Sebastian’s contract. Part of Do No Harm.

< PREVIOUS

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-adjacent, fearing caretaker as new whumper trope, implied past child abuse/foster system life, implied past noncon, alcohol mentions

Synthetic fur tickles Jaime’s nose as he presses into Roger’s neck. It’s scratchy against his skin where last night’s tears dried. Standing there with his arms around a stuffed tiger that takes up half his body height probably makes him look like a little kid, but he already feels like one, so he doesn’t bother letting go. He squeezes tighter when the front door swings open.

“Hello there, sweetheart,” a woman says, leaning down so she’s closer to eye level. Her perfume doesn’t smell anything like his mom’s, and he hates it immediately. “You must be Jaime.”

He tucks himself a little closer to the social worker’s side, but it doesn’t stop the woman from reaching out and burying a hand in his hair. One of her many rings gets caught on his hair when she pulls it out, but Jaime presses his mouth against Roger’s fur to keep from crying out.

A trash bag full of his belongings hangs at his side. It’s lighter than it was last time, but Jaime’s chest feels a lot heavier. It’s just him now. Roger isn’t here to squeeze when the man in the doorway smiles down at him, and he tells himself it doesn't matter, because he’s twelve now. It shouldn’t matter.

“Jaime, this is Mr. Anderson. Say hello.”

The house smells like cigarettes and peppermint. There is a stain on the carpet next to where Jaime leaves his shoes. The floorboards creak when he is led up the stairs to his bedroom. He looks at Mr. Anderson’s hands while the social worker is talking. There are no sharp nails or silver rings on his fingers. Maybe that’s a good thing.

Another trash bag. Another social worker. Another porch.

A new set of strangers– a couple this time.

The Welfords have a real son. Jaime thinks about how he used to be somebody’s real son once. Now he doesn’t feel real at all sometimes; certainly not when the other boy doesn’t even look up from his screen when he is introduced.

Mrs. Welford tells Jaime he will get to have his own room in their house. The bed is small, but at least it’s not a bunk bed. Jaime doesn’t understand the four empty drill holes in the wall by the bedroom door, but he will soon.

He wonders, months later, if the social worker saw them, too.

He spends the day before his sixteenth birthday stuffing his clothes and books inside another trash bag and being shuttled off to a new home. Someone found out about the locks on Jaime’s bedroom door. He doesn’t know who. He didn’t tell anyone.

Two boys dart out through the door as soon as it swings open, laughing and shoving at each other. Jaime flinches, but they just tear off through the front yard with their football, leaving Jaime and the social worker blinking after them.

A woman with light-gray hair in a braid steps into the doorway after them. “Sorry about them,” she says, wiping her fingers on the dish towel thrown over her shoulder. She holds out a hand. “Hi Jaime. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sherry.”

She waits for Jaime to reach out before she touches him.

The front entrance of Mr. Torley’s house is a long stretch of black tile. He can see his reflection when he looks down at his feet.

“I understand it is my prerogative to assign you a name while you’re under my care. Until we know you’ll be a good fit here, I see no reason for that. We will stick with your identification number until then.”

He looks over his shoulder at Jaime when he’s done hanging up his coat and finds him already kneeling on the tile, hands folded behind him. Jaime watches his Keeper’s reflection in the tile. A smile spreads across the lower half of his face.

“Good boy,” he says.

The relief is almost enough to drown out the swell of dread. It’s his first contract, and Jaime wants to do a good job. If he can keep this man happy, maybe Jaime can have a good six months here.

Dr. Tate’s house is both everything and nothing like Jaime imagined it would be. It’s a split-level structure that sits back from the road, half the siding done in artificial stone, the other half in a dark blue. It looks new. Nice, Jaime supposes. He never really knows what to expect from a new house, but it never stops him from wondering. This time, he has had eight long days to wonder.

Things moved quickly after Dr. Tate pulled him aside on Monday morning.

“I wanted to take our time with this conversation,” he had started, tense and apologetic in the relative privacy of his office, “but the circumstances have changed.”

The change in circumstance, Jaime would come to find out, was that someone else was vying for Jaime’s contract. Someone else. A second prospective, because the first was––

“I submitted the preliminary application last week and got approved first thing this morning. All that’s left to do is make an official bid on a contract.”

On Jaime’s contract.

The conversation had knocked him off balance, blown through him with the sheer unexpectedness of the proposal. And it was never really a proposal, was it? Dr. Tate expressed an interest in obtaining Jaime’s contract, and Jaime’s opinion on the matter should be irrelevant. Was, is, irrelevant. But Dr. Tate wanted an answer from him anyway.

“I need you to understand, before we take this a single step further, that you can tell me no right now, and I’ll drop the whole thing. I won’t ever bring it up again.”

Jaime remembers wondering if he was making a joke. Because certainly Dr. Tate understood that Jaime could not do that, could not tell him no, regardless of the circumstances, and especially not when he had positioned himself to be Jaime’s potential Keeper.

He remembers the cold flash of realization. Betrayal, he remembers thinking. He almost didn’t recognize the feeling at first. Betrayal is for people who make the mistake of trusting in the first place. You can’t be betrayed by someone you’ve only ever expected the worst from.

He remembers wondering, in that moment, when he stopped expecting the worst from Dr. Tate.

Feeling separated from his body, Jaime remembers telling him yes.

The very same day, he was pulled from his service in the clinic and escorted to the training wing to begin his mandatory retraining sessions. Handler Smith was waiting with a smile and the shock clip in hand.

Dr. Tate fought them on it––something Jaime only knows because he overheard Handler Smith’s snide remarks. And while “a prospective Keeper’s requests are taken into consideration for mandatory prep conditioning,” his objection apparently wasn’t enough for them to forgo the process altogether.

A full week is standard protocol, and the time Jaime spent in his cell between lessons gave Jaime plenty of time to dwell on the jarring turn of events, and on everything that awaited him in the coming six months.

“Well. This is it.” Dr. Tate’s keys jingle against the door as he pushes it open. “Home sweet home.”

Jaime holds his ground on the porch, watching carefully, waiting for a cue to follow. Dr. Tate watches him back, looking altogether unfamiliar to Jaime in a loose-fitting sweater in jeans. Even the glasses on the bridge of his nose are different from the ones he wears in the clinic. It’s jarring, all of it. But Jaime thinks the disconnect in familiarity has little to do with his looks.

Finally, Dr. Tate gestures for him to step inside. “Please, come in.”

Jaime does.

He hesitates inside the small entry hall, thinking about the cool press of Mr. Torley’s tile under his knees. He can’t imagine a world in which Dr. Tate would want that of him, but up until eight days ago, Jaime couldn’t have imagined a world in which Dr. Tate would sign a contract that designates Jaime as his property. But here they are.

Muscle memory folds Jaime’s hands behind his back, keeps his chin tucked toward his chest and his eyes on the floor. He holds position as the door clicks shut, fully attuned to the sound of Dr. Tate’s footsteps on the wood floor––wood, not tile. Not Mr. Torley’s house, but no less unpredictable than his was on the first day.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring you a coat,” Dr. Tate is saying, seemingly obvious to Jaime’s internal panic. “I didn’t… Well, I should have known they wouldn’t give you one.” He slips his shoes off inside the door, and Jaime is desperately grateful at the silent cue that he won’t have to ask for. It’s best to avoid speaking unprompted right at the beginning. “But I have the heat cranked up in here,” Dr. Tate continues. “So you should warm up fast. Just, you know, let me know if it’s too much.”

“Yes, sir.”

The idle chatter goes silent in an instant. Jaime can’t help but flinch back when Dr. Tate rounds on him. He swallows. Did he do something wrong already?

“Oh,” Dr. Tate says softly. “Hey. You don’t need to––I mean, I would prefer it if you didn’t go back to calling me that. Definitely not while you’re… while you’re here.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaime says immediately. “Dr. Tate.”

He hesitates, watching Jaime carefully. “Actually,” he says slowly, “would you be comfortable calling me Sebastian? I know you didn’t feel like you could when we were in the facility, but I… Well, there’s really no need for that formality here.”

Sebastian. The name rolls around inside Jaime’s head, stretching over his tongue. He nods.

“Yes, Sebastian.”

He doesn’t look all that pleased with Jaime’s response, but he plasters a smile over his discomfort anyway. “Good. Okay. And…” He hesitates, eyeing Jaime in that scrutinizing way again. “Jaime is still okay? Can I still call you that?”

Jaime bites down on the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood. Inside the walls of the clinic, his name had been a precious flame held between the two of them; a secret that was all theirs. Jaime’s first small taste of rebellion. But a week under Handler Smith’s thumb is fresh in his psyche, and his very first days at the facility feel closer than ever. Jaime’s name was the first thing they ripped away from him then. The first rule he had to repeat over and over.

My legal name is among the rights I have willingly forfeited as a show of my dedication to service. My designation is Domestic. My service identification is 110750.

‘750.

On your knees, ‘750.

They can call you Seven, for short.

Sev, will you read me a story?

That’s beautiful, baby. Open wide.

Tate. Huh, I like it.

Relax, baby. I’m going to take care of you.

Baby.

Gorgeous.

Seven.

Poor thing.

“Jaime?”

His head snaps up at the sound of his name in Dr. Ta––Sebastian’s soft voice. His eyes have shifted from caution to concern.

Day one, and Jaime is falling to pieces.

“I’m sorry,” Jaime says, not unaware that he’s already had to make two apologies since walking through the door.

“Don’t be.” The crease between his brows deepens. “I know this is… It’s a lot, all at once. I’m not expecting a perfect performance from either of us, here. Believe me.”

Jaime doesn’t know what to do with that, and he is acutely aware that he has left a direct question from his Keeper unanswered. He presses down the panic and forces his mouth to open. “Jaime is fine,” he says, then adds quickly, “Thank you.”

Sebastian’s attempt at a smile is a little shakier this time. “Um. You’re welcome. Let’s––” He pauses, clearing his throat. “Here, I’ll give you the tour, and then I’ll give you some space to yourself for a while. Just… We’ll do this one step at a time, okay?”

Jaime nods, attempts a smile back at him, and falls in line behind his quiet steps. He can’t quite flatten the nausea as he tries to take in the space that will contain him for the next six months.

Another strange house, a new set of rules, is all par for the course. Jaime has been doing this routine for half of his life now. This should be no different.

But it’s hard to think clearly when every second of this feels like a dream; one he hasn’t been able to wake up from since the moment Sebastian pulled him into his office a week ago. It’s even harder when Sebastian is looking at him like this, wearing the same kind smile and honest eyes that Jaime knows by heart, but suddenly the warmth of them is eclipsed entirely by fear. By the knowledge that Jaime has trusted kind men before, and it has never once worked out in his favor.

One step at a time, Sebastian told him.

Jaime has no other choice.

* * *

Sebastian stands with his back against the lip of the counter, his eyes focused straight ahead and pointedly not at the bottle of vodka on top of the fridge.

It’s been an hour since he left Jaime alone in his room with the vague instruction to “get settled in,” and there hasn’t been a peep from him since. Not so much as a rustle of movement to give him some sign of life from the other side of the closed door. He thinks about the silent, careful way he watches these people move in the clinic, and it occurs to him for the first time that it might be something deliberately trained into him.

He’s not even sure what “settling in” entails for someone who arrived on his doorstep with only the clothes on his back to his name, but Sebastian assumed–and hopes he isn’t wrong for assuming–that they could both use a little bit of space to decompress. The drive home from the facility and every minute since they walked through the door had been… intense. Nerves were high on both ends, and Jaime looks like he got just as little, if not less, sleep as Sebastian last night. And Sebastian is sinking every ounce of energy he has into quashing his frustration. Not at Jaime, never at Jaime. But at the structural weakness of the delicate trust they had spent months building between them.

In the clinic, it had started to feel like something solid, earned. But up against the pressure of their new environment, it’s a house of cards. And Sebastian fears that they might have to start rebuilding from the bottom up.

Once again, he resents the circumstances that forced his hand in moving too quickly into this contract. If only he’d had more time to make Jaime understand his intentions. If only he’d found a way to get ahead of the fear that had him bowing his head and folding his hands behind his back and calling him…

Sebastian’s eyes move back to the vodka.

No.

Nope. It’s not even noon, and he’s… He is fine. He is in control, because he has to be. He forces a deep breath in, then out.

Coffee, maybe? That feels like a good move. That’s something people do when they bring a guest into their house, right? Not that guest is really the right word for what Jaime is here. Coffee is also something you do when you slept a maximum of three hours the night before.

Okay. Good. This is good. They’re going to bond over their mutual need for caffeine and it’s going to be fine. Everything! Is going to be! Fine!

Sebastian crosses the kitchen and turns on the coffee maker.

The task, having something to do with his hands, instantly soothes his nerves. A laugh bubbles out of him as he remembers the first piece of advice Ezra offered him last night on the phone: Let him feel useful where he can. Give him a purpose without making it a demand. Well, it seems he might be onto something.

While the machine does its thing, Sebastian crosses to the refrigerator and stares at the handwritten list pinned with a magnet. He squints at it. Somehow, in the daylight, it only looks more pathetic.

It was Ezra’s idea, though: make a list of rules, because he’s going to expect them and likely crave them at first, and put them in writing where Jaime will always have access to look. Don’t make him guess, don’t add the pressure of having to memorize everything all at once. Lay the expectations out clearly so that he doesn’t feel like he’s being set up to fail. Let him know, in no uncertain terms, that there will be no punishment for failure to comply, but don’t expect him to believe it.

Sebastian is grateful beyond words for the guidance. He never would have thought to do this on his own. Every instinct in his body wants to sit Jaime down and tell him that there are no rules, there are no expectations, and that while he is under Seabstian’s roof, he is as good as free.

But that’s not true. It isn’t that simple. The system that stole Jaime’s freedom is much larger than any one man, and his enslavement is more than any one man can lift away from him. Sebastian would do him no favors by pretending otherwise.

The sound of sputtering from the coffee machine brings him back to himself. Sebastian lets out a long breath and grabs the list from off the fridge. He allows himself a few self-conscious seconds to scan over the page before he crosses into the living room and places it on the coffee table.

He pours two mugs of fresh coffee, stares at them, then grabs two shot glasses from the cabinet. He fills one with milk and the other with sugar and brings all four to the living room.

When he has sufficiently burned through all of his stalling techniques, he turns toward the bedroom hallway and takes a deep breath.

TAG LIST: @whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @van-whumpS @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm

#Do No Harm: Jaime & Sebastian #IT BEGINS #The Sebastian Contract #Whump #whump writing #whumplr #bbu #like bbu adjacent?

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seal-writes-stuff · 2 years

Text

Deep Down

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing, mental health struggles, heavy suicidal ideation, one NSFW mention

Summary: How deep do you need to sink before you can push yourself back up?

A/N: Hello friends. I’ve recently rewatched “Filth” and I intend to make it everyone’s problem. The bolded part is a prompt taken from here, feel free to request anything on the list! Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Days blur together. One after another, over and over again.

Bruce isn’t sure which one is it today and he doesn’t care either. After the night, he’s had to drag himself through this hellish loop anyway, taking it one hour at a time. Forcing himself to eat. Forcing himself to shower. Forcing himself to go to work, trying his best to ignore the pitying looks of his former colleagues. Most of all, forcing himself to shut out all of his thoughts and go numb. Even a moment of reflection is too much.

Weekends are the worst. Bruce still remembers what he used to do before the night, but none of this seems appealing now, so he just watches TV or sleeps it off. Sometimes both.

Pathetic.

Bruce doesn’t notice it right away, but you always seem to be around lately. Did he give you the spare key? Probably – hell if he knows. What he does know is that he lied to you a lot so you wouldn’t get in the way of his promotion. Wouldn’t stop from achieving… What exactly?

Was it worth it? Why did he even do it?

Just couldn’t help himself, probably.

Doesn’t matter. What matters, though, is that then the night happened and you just kind of stuck around ever since. Cooking him dinner. Cleaning up the place. Talking to him; Bruce is pretty sure he gives you some short answers every time, but their contents don’t make a difference. They seem to satisfy you. That’s all that matters.

Sometimes, when he’s half asleep, Bruce can feel you caressing his head – gently, almost lovingly. Bruce knows his hair is dirty half of the time and you probably pity him too, but he can’t find it in himself to pull away. Maybe that’s the only version of heaven he’s getting. He still doesn’t feel like he deserves that.

Right now, in this very moment, however, things feel different. He’s more aware. His old senses are back and Bruce doesn’t like it. He finds himself on a couch in his own apartment; TV illuminates the room slightly. Bruce rises up on his elbows and sees you in an armchair nearby. Noticing it, you snap out of your thoughts and look at him.

“Hey, Robbo,” you shoot him a sweet smile. As if everything is alright, as if he’s not a complete fucking mess. “What’s up?”

He nods vaguely, settling back on the couch. What is there to say? Still, you keep going.

“How’s your face?”

This brings out some absolutely awful memories; Bruce immediately pushes them aside. He touches his nose and suddenly realizes that it doesn’t hurt anymore.

What does his face look like, though? Does it look like anything?

“Still on my head,” he rasps out. You chuckle.

“That’s nice to hear.”

Silence falls again. One that probably feels comfortable to you but is agonizing for him. A realization that you’ve seen him like this all this time, that you’re seeing him like this now weights heavy on Bruce. He decides to put an end to this, one way or another.

“Why are you here? Don’t you have your own place or something?”

“I like yours.”

Fucking hell. You don’t seem too fazed, and that frustrates Bruce even more.

“Can’t get enough of all the filth?” he gestures around the room, looking away from you.

“I don’t care. Just wanted to see you.”

Bruce hums, hoping it would pass as some kind of answer. Same difference, he thinks. Probably not something you’d want to hear though. You’re still here and that’s a problem; he needs to be harsher. Bruce hates to hurt you like that, but it needs to be done.

For your own good.

“I was thinking about killing myself lately,” he starts in a flat tone, like he’s talking about the weather. “You’ve got any good options in mind? I do.”

“Robbo-”

“They don’t trust me with a gun now, but hey. I can still jump off a bridge, eh? Oh-or I could slit my wrists. Dougie did.”

“Bruce-”

“Or hang myself, I’ve even got-”

“Bruce, stop!” your voice cracks, and Bruce feels a rush of guilt mixed with satisfaction. Finally, he’s doing something right. “I don’t wanna- Do you mean it? Do you mean all of that?”

“Would it fucking matter if I did?”

“Yes. Yes it would.”

He huffs, sitting up straight. Why won’t you listen? Why won’t you go away? Bruce used to be able to force or manipulate anyone into doing whatever he wants. Why doesn’t it work on you? Is he that much of a fucking failure now?

“Why, cause you like feeling like a savior?”

“Wh- No, cause I care about you! I-”

“Just shut up!” he spits. “I’m not as good as you say I am! You have it in your fucking head that I’ve got something deep down. Well, guess what? There’s no deep down. This is me!”

He picks up an empty beer can before flinging it across the room.

“This is me!”

He gestures at his face, still covered in half-healed cuts and bruises.

“That’s it! There’s nothing there! Fuck the deep down. So you can stop digging and save us both some fucking time.”

That’s it. Bruce takes a deep breath, exhausted. He looks at you, trying to put every last bit of disdain he has in that look. He knows you’re trying to help; you’re not the first, but he still hopes that you’ll be the last. It’s not your fault, of course, but you must leave. He’s beyond saving and he knows it. It’s about time you realize it as well.

You open your mouth, then close it again. You don’t seem like you’re pitying him, but you don’t seem angry either. You just seem…

Sad?

“I’m okay with that.”

He blinks, confused.

“What?”

“You’re right. Fuck the deep down. I’m here cause I like you as you are. If…” you look at the floor, as if you’re gathering the courage to keep speaking. “If you think I’m playing a game, whatever. I’m okay with that too.”

You are not leaving. You are still not leaving. Why the fuck are you not leaving, what is he doing wrong, what-

Bruce tries to reply, but all that comes out is a strangled sob.

That's the final straw: Bruce finally breaks. He cries and cries, covering his face to hide from you, even though he knows it's useless. Every feeling, every negative thought he's suppressed surfaces all at once. Bruce feels like he's drowning.

All of a sudden, he realizes he truly wishes he was dead. At least death is finite. Humiliation seems never-ending.

Bruce doesn’t look up, but he hears how you stand up from the armchair with a barely concealed sad sigh. At least you’re done with him. That makes him cry even harder and he doesn’t know why.

Isn’t that what he wanted? Didn’t he finally do something right?

Before his thoughts can spiral any further, Bruce feels you pulling him into a hug. You don’t say anything. He’s grateful for that.

“I'm sorry,” Bruce clutches your shirt like his life depends on it. “I’m fucking- Please don’t leave. Please.”

“Don’t plan on that.”

Time goes by. Bruce doesn’t know if it’s been three minutes or three hours. He knows you’re here and somehow, that’s enough.

As his composure comes back, so does the shame.

“Do you… Wanna watch TV?” he asks awkwardly, not pulling away from your grasp. He hopes, prays even that you don’t mention any of... This.

You don’t.

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

You settle on the couch comfortably, his back against your chest. No kissing, no fucking, just together. Bruce can’t remember the last time he’s been with someone like this, but your body is warm and your touch is inviting, so he just accepts it.

“You know, Robbo, it’d be nice if you washed your hair sometimes,” your nails scratch his scalp gently. “I love you, but you stink.”

“Nobody complained before.”

“Well, did you ask them, or-”

“You know what, go fuck yourself,” Bruce laughs.

“Go fuck me yourself, you pussy.”

“I thought I was gross, no?” his eyes dart away before he finally gathers enough courage to say what he needs to say. “Uh, by the way, thanks. For everything.”

“Ah, it’s alright,” you plant a kiss on top of his head. Bruce closes his eyes and sighs. “Glad to help. Speaking of gross, I took out four bags of trash out of your fridge the other day. Four full bags, man!”

“Yeah, this place can use, um… Some cleaning up.”

“Some? Drug dens are cleaner than this.”

“And you’ve seen a lot of drug dens.”

“Nah, that’s your thing.”

“Right. They all know me by name there. Personal discounts, all that.”

You giggle, cuddling up closer to him, and Bruce feels content. Frank Sidebottom’s show is playing. For the first time in a long while it doesn’t even make Bruce want to smash his head against the floor.

Maybe same rules don’t always apply after all.

#bruce robertson #bruce robertson x reader #bruce robertson imagine #james mcavoy x reader #james mcavoy imagine #filth #seal writes

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phoebe-delia · 1 year

Note

Hi Phoebe! For the TSwift songs or albums, what kind of vibes does Harry bring out?

Hello friend!! Thanks for this!

Over the last two years I’ve dedicated to this, I have come to the conclusion over and over again that Taylor Swift basically WROTE the song “The Archer” about Harry James Potter.

I have been trying, probably for the better part of a year, to write a songfic to it that I think adequately captures everything I feel connects Harry and the song. So far I’ve had one published attempt, and while it wasn’t my worst work, I want to do better. So I’ll keep trying.

I don’t even need to say anything else other than: look at these lyrics. And yes, I copied the whole entire song because it all applies. I could write a THESIS about why this song relates to Harry.

Thanks again friend!

LYRICS BELOW!

Send me a Harry Potter character or ship, and I'll tell you what Taylor Swift song AND/OR album they remind me of.

Combat, I'm ready for combat

I say I don't want that, but what if I do?

'Cause cruelty wins in the movies

I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

Easy they come, easy they go

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

I never grew up, it's getting so old

Help me hold onto you

I've been the archer

I've been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

Dark side, I search for your dark side

But what if I'm alright, right, right, right here?

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face

Then I hate my reflection for years and years

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost

The room is on fire, invisible smoke

And all of my heroes die all alone

Help me hold onto you

I've been the archer

I've been the prey

Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

(I see right through me, I see right through me)

'Cause they see right through me

They see right through me

They see right through

Can you see right through me?

They see right through

They see right through me

I see right through me

All the king's horses, all the king's men

Couldn't put me together again

'Cause all of my enemies started out friends

Help me hold onto you

I've been the archer

I've been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay?

(I see right through me, I see right through me)

Who could stay?

You could stay

You

Combat, I'm ready for combat

#ask game

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years

Note

*kicks my old middle school crush I had on Anti under my bed*

So I have a request for Anti since your writing for JSE egos again- Can you do something with Anti and a male D/A reader- I imagine they met when the DA got out of the mirror and was on his way to go fight Dark- they first bonded over hating Dark then feelings started forming.

Oh m a n it’s been a few good years since I’ve written Septic Ego content haha.

.................

You still remember the day you escaped that accursed mirror.

All thanks to Mark.

He claimed that the Jims and their tomfoolery led him to investigate his manor. There, he stumbled upon your prison and saw the broken static within the glass's reflection, immediately able to tell that you were trapped.

But once he freed you and showed you how much has changed in the world, he sorta..left you to rebuild your life from the ground up. Though he’d always visit you to see how you’re doing or if you’re up for a new adventure.

Your most recent one was a heist, and...least to say it spiraled out of control pretty quickly with that old ancient box being a huge part of it all. But besides that, you actually enjoyed it.

Except for one thing:

Darkiplier

After all this time, he showed up and the first thing he did was try to deceive you, claiming that you were on the “wrong side” and that actor was nothing but a lying snake, while also teasing you about your curiosity in the box.

If anything, he was the snake--the one who tricked you into surrendering your body, only to leave your soul in that mirror to rot.

Of course, you knew it was Mark’s fault for destroying everyone’s lives. If he hadn’t orchestrated that damn party, none of this would’ve happened. But at least he tried to redeem himself by saving you, admitting he didn’t want you to die that day. At least he seemed to care.

What did Damien, the man you once treated like a brother, ever do for you?

That’s right. Nothing. He never came back.

Was he really expecting you to just “forgive and forget”?

No way in hell.

Right now, you just wanted to find that jerk and give him a what-for. He might’ve adopted the broken neck from your old body, but you wouldn’t mind adding a broken nose to the list, too. Nothing he did could scare you.

So you wandered about, remaining vigilant and listening for any sounds of creaking wood or high-pitched ringing--telltale signs that his presence was near and he was about to give some monologue about the “snake”.

However as your surroundings dimmed, you froze in place and heard something peculiar ringing in the air.

It sounded like..fizzling static, and it sent goosebumps all across your skin. But this sensation wasn’t anything like the mirror’s static. Oh no. This was much different.

It felt hot instead of cold. Like pins and needles instead of crushing suffocation.

And then you heard a man’s voice giggling all around you, confusing you further. “Hello?”

“Hello~”

Jumping back, you saw a man with green flesh suddenly appear in front of you. Your eyes widened as you noticed the bloody cut across his neck. It left trails down his neck, like it was a fresh wound. He looked like a corpse, yet acted lively as he twirled a kitchen knife in his hands.

“Are ya lost? Maybe I can show ya the way.” He spoke in a thick Irish accent, his blue eyes icy and piercing as he circled around you like a shark.

You didn’t know what to think of this man..demon..entity, whatever he was. But you just huffed, staying calm. “I’m just looking for someone.”

“...huh, funny enough I am too! I have some unfinished business to take care of.” He stopped in front of you as he gritted his teeth, eyes flickering to black--an empty void deprived of light. “Maybe you can be my pawn-”

“Been there, done that.”

He blinked stupidly. “What?”

“I’ve been a pawn in someone else’s games before. Trust me, I know what that’s like.” Smoothing out the wrinkles in your suit, you sighed and looked at him. “Listen, you almost had me fooled with your glitchy-ness, but I’m uh..looking for someone else who glitches. He’s got weird red and blue ones that aren’t anything like yours. Now if you’ll excuse me-”

But as you tried turning around, he just popped up in front of you again. “Tell me..does he wear a stupid suit like yours? Or looks like some emo monochrome douchebag?!”

‘I don’t know what an “emo” is, but I know a monochrome douchebag when I see one.’

“Yes, he does. And he goes by-”

“Dark.” He finished, grinning. “Well what’s your deal with him?”

“To sum it up, he trapped me in a prison after I died and stole my body, and then a friend brought me back to life.” You rubbed your neck out of habit. It ached from time to time whenever you recounted those memories, but you were used to it.

“Oh..what a pity. So ya wanna find him to get your old body back?”

"No, I..got a lot of injuries when I died and those carried over to him.”

“Really? Tell me.” The demon inched closer.

As much as you didn’t wanna tell this total stranger everything that happened, you felt a strange comfort in knowing you weren’t the only one with a grudge against Dark. So you’ll entertain him. “Well I was uh..shot in the stomach and broke my neck after a fall..as a result of being shot.”

“Holy shit...no wonder he acts like an old man!!” He cackled loudly. “Well I’d say it’s karma and leave it at that. But you seem very determined to find him. So how about we search together? Just you and me. No strings attached.”

You didn’t like that wink he gave you; trusting him was probably a mistake. But then again you’ve made lots of mistakes in your past life..and in this one.

What’s one more?

"Very well.” You smiled. “Let’s get going.”

........

Try as you might, neither of you could track down Dark. He was always the elusive one, hiding out in that void of his and only showing up when you least expected it.

But that didn’t mean you haven’t gained anything from your partnership with the green glitch demon.

You eventually learned that his name was Antisepticeye, or Anti for short. Apparently he was a doppelganger of his creator Jack and tried taking over his body by slitting his throat one Halloween night, though...for some reason Anti himself ended up adopting the wound, too. He seemed unbothered by it and refused your offers to patch it up for him.

He ended up inviting you to a place where his “brothers” lived: Chase, Marvin, Henrik, Jameson, and Jackieboy Man. Compared to him they were more human-looking and had a myriad of both fancy and regular outfits. They saw him as an “outsider” and “villain”, for obvious reasons, so he never stayed long. But you befriended some of them and shared your stories.

Mark never found out about your new Irish buddies, surprisingly, and he didn’t seem to care at all.

Anti, on the other hand, seemed annoyed by it as time went on.

You’ve mistook that for his frustration in not finding Dark, and yet..you couldn’t help but wonder why he looked so irritated whenever you spent time with Jameson.

Obviously, he was from a similar time period so you’ve been connecting with him that way and could actually relate to his struggles in dealing with the modern world.

But you didn’t think you were neglecting the one who understood your grievances with Dark.

At least..not until you were suddenly glitched out of the house and dragged into a dark void that was very clearly Anti’s.

“Alright, alright..your fun with ‘im is over.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused by his sudden change in behavior as you turned to face him. “Anti, what’s with you lately? You seem awfully desperate for my attention.”

“Well attention is exactly what I crave!! It’s what fuels me!!” His grin was quick to vanish as his scowl deepened further, waving the tip of his knife in front of your face. “Besides, I couldn’t let ya get too comfy with those lads...not when we have a mission!”

“But we haven’t found any leads on Dark as of yet,” you pointed out. “And...you don’t seen too obsessed with finding him right now. So what’s really up with you?"

“...”what’s up?”” He mocked, eye twitching. “You gettin’ too distracted is “what’s up”!!”

“Well to be fair, I’ve been trapped in that mirror since the 20s, so you gotta cut me some slack. There’s a lot I wanna see about this world. And besides...you seem jealous that I’m spending time with your “brothers”.”

“JEALOUS?!! So that’s how ya see me?!! Jealous?!!”

“So you don’t deny it?”

“Why I....why would I ever be jealous?!!” He scoffed, though it was easy to see how flushed he was becoming, given the darkening green tint around his pointed ears. “I could very easily throw ya aside an’ send ya back to that prissy actor...I don’t need anyone to help me find Dark! Yer lucky ya had a close history with him!”

Yet despite his attempts to be intimidating and heartless, you couldn’t help but be amused. Sure he was always hotheaded and unpredictable, but..he was quite cute, and he didn’t even have to try.

Yeah, you might’ve grown to like him a little bit.

Anti noticed your growing smile and huffed. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” With a chuckle, you reached out to ruffle his already-messy hair before walking away, not giving him a chance to protest. “C’mon, we got a “monochrome bitch” to search for.”

He just stared at you for a few silent moments, and then he just pouted like a child and followed you.

It was getting harder to ignore the funny feelings stirring in his chest.

#clanask #anonymous #septic egos x reader #antisepticeye x reader #da yn

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mikkomacko · 3 years

Note

So not sure if you’re going to understand this but here’s my idea: the team not knowing that the reader is dating both Bucky and Steve (Stucky) and they confront her and say some awful things like she’s using them, a cheating wh*re etc. and she just starts crying and runs and locks herself in their room (or whatever you’d like). Then Stucky comes back or out from somewhere looking for her and then they ask the team and the team tells them that she was “cheating” on both of them with each other and then they’re like no we’re all dating each other and the team feels all bad and you can end it how you want lol. You don’t have to do this and sorry if it’s bad.

A/n: Sorry it took so long! Hope it's ok! <3

Two Avengers dating would cause enough gossip in itself, but three Avengers? Two of which have been best friends since the 40s? She can't imagine what kind of reaction that would get out of Sam or Nat who have always teased Steve and Bucky about being really good friends.

So when y/n, Bucky, and Steve made their relationship official, they kept it as low-key as possible. Anything beyond cuddling was reserved for the privacy of their rooms, flirting had to be subtle, and all dates were far from the Avengers compound.

They just had to pray they could follow the rules and keep their hands to themselves when others were around.

Drumming her fingers on the folder, y/n heads up HR to submit her latest mission report. It was simple surveillance mission, nothing exciting to report on but she'd been gone for over a week and wanted to get the report in asap so it could be done with. Dropping it off on the incoming desk, she promptly turns on her heel to head to lunch but is stopped just outside of the doorway by a hand on her bicep. She's tugged into the hidden corner before she can even react, two strong arms caging her against the cool wall.

Bucky, dressed for a training session, stands before her, blue eyes sparkling and lips smiling. Immediately, her guard falls, lips widening into a smile that reflects the same love shining through Bucky's.

"Careful Barnes," she teases, "next time I won't be so kind about ya pawing at me."

He clicks his tongue. "Wouldn't be pawing if you'd come to see me as soon as you got back."

"Paperwork waits for no one. Not even Cap and Sarge."

He sighs playfully. "Damn doll, that hurts. Think ya should kiss it better."

So she does. Cupping his jaw between two soft palms, y/n seals their mouths together in a tender kiss, completely blind to Bruce and Tony who have just caught sight of them from down the hall.

Bucky heads down to the gym and y/n heads to room to clean up before lunch, ignoring his pleas for her to join him. She's technically on recovery from her last mission and she's definitely going to milk that for a day off. She's approaching her door when one just down the hall opens, a familiar blond head of hair coming into view.

She pauses, leaning her shoulder against the doorway and smiles at him. "Hey Cap, fancy seeing you here."

He lifts his head, soft blue eyes meeting hers and he smiles that cute little smirk only Steve Rogers could smile. "Hey, heard you got back early this morning."

"Yeah, way early." She laughs, tilting her chin up as he moves closer.

"How'd it go?"

He stops in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head. It's his typical go-ahead-I'm-listening stance but by the way he's eyeing her mouth she knows he doesn't actually want to hear it right now. Steve always tries to hide the fact that he's just as clingy as Bucky.

"Is that really what you're going to ask me, Rogers? After being gone for so long you want my mission run down right now?"

He chuckles, dipping his head and lightly shaking it. "No not really."

"So what's your real question?"

Bashful, he meets her eyes again. "Can I have a hello?"

Y/n laughs, butterflies fluttering in her chest as she rises on her tiptoes to kiss him. He gently grips her waist, pulling her just the slightest bit closer and humming in content. She throws her arms around his neck, fingertips shifting into the hair at the base of his neck, once again too caught up in her boyfriend to notice Nat and Sam have just spotted them from the end of the corridor.

"You'll never believe what we just saw!" Sam shouts, hightailing it into the kitchen with Natasha hot on his heels. Bruce and Tony both startle in their seats at the table, water sloshing over the edge of Bruce's mug.

"Nuh-uh, we're first." Tony says, shaking his head.

"No we are." Sam insists, Tony opening his mouth to continue the argument but Natasha cuts him off.

"Rogers and y/n are together."

And that makes Tony and Bruce pause. Sam whoops proudly, smirking at the two as they share looks of confusion.

"Steve and y/n?" Bruce confirms, eyebrows pinching together when Nat nods firmly.

Tony sighs. "Well that puts us in a bit of pickle because we saw Barnes with his tongue down her throat."

Sam's jaw drops. "What? When?"

"Earlier today!" Bruce exclaims, motioning towards the HR department. "She was dropping off paperwork and he just grabbed her and kissed her."

"Well we just watched Steve pin her against a door and kiss her not even ten minutes ago." Nat exclaims, anger building up in her veins. "Which means we've got a problem."

Sam turns to her, just as angry. "Damn right we do!"

Bottom lip between her teeth, y/n attempts to hide the giddy smile that's been plastered on her face since her reunion with her boys. It's a weak attempt because she's practically as bright as a ray of sunshine but she doesn't really care. She's happy. She's so incredibly happy and she wants it to last forever.

Unfortunately for her, the feeling is cut short far too soon because as soon as she enters the kitchen, 4 pairs of eyes are glaring at her.

"Hey everyone," she says tentatively, slowing to a stop. "what's going on?"

Sam scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why don't you tell us what's going on?" He says coldly, "You know besides you macking on our friends."

Macking on his friends? Oh god, Steve and Bucky! They found out about their relationship...

Her jaw drops, cut-off guard. "Wait! I can explain-"

"Cheaters don't get an explanation." Nat cuts off, eyes mean and piercing. Y/n heart sinks into her stomach. Cheating? She'd never cheat in her life, especially not on Bucky and Steve.

"Cheating? I'm not-"

Tony rises from his seat. "Save it y/n. We know you're cheating on Bucky and Steve with each other. How could you do that? They're like brothers and your just using them-"

"No I'm not!" She insists, panicking under the hateful gazes. "You guys don't understand. Just let me-"

"No!" Sam cuts off. "Bucky and Steve have both gone through so much. Do you realize how difficult it must have been for them to open up to you? And you thew it all away. You hurt them. You're a bitch y/n, full honestly."

Tears sting her eyes. Sam's never said anything like that to her let alone anyone they know. He's always been so kind and welcoming so to hear such hurtful words from him has her stunned. She can't even think of anything to say to defend herself.

"Y-you really think that lowly of me?" She sniffles, "That I would do something like that?"

"We saw it, y/n." Banner responds, nose scrunched in disgust. "Now get outta here before we throw you out."

Insulted and insecure, she shakes her head. "I can't believe you all." Then she turns on her heel, running to the safety of her room.

Bucky's spotting Steve on the bench press when the foursome of Avengers walk in, somber looks on their faces.

"Steve," Bucky says, gaining his attention. Immediately the super soldier is setting down his weights, sitting up to look at their friends.

"What's going on? Is someone hurt?" Steve asks, rising to his feet. Sam shakes his head, smiling sympathetically.

"No one's hurt," he assures "but we've got something to tell you."

Bucky swallows nervously, something in him going on high alert. He knows that this is about y/n, that something's happened and it makes him anxious. Where is she?

"What?" Bucky asks, noticing the lingering anger in Nat's eyes.

"It's y/n," she says "she-"

"She what?" Bucky interrupts quickly, readying himself to sprint upstairs.

"She's cheating," Tony says, eyes flickering between the two men. "On you two. With each other."

Oh, Bucky wasn't expecting that. He turns to Steve, the two sharing a silent conversation between themselves. They know? Looks like it pal. How'd that happen? I told you to be careful...

"Don't worry, we already gave her a piece of our minds-"

"You what?!" Steve suddenly asks, finally realizing what they're saying. They think y/n cheated on them because they don't know they're all three dating each other. And they confronted her about it.

"What did you say?" Bucky asks lowly.

"The truth," Sam says proudly. "that she's a bitch for using you both."

Before anyone can react Bucky is rushing towards the doors, abandoning his belongings in favor of checking on y/n. Steve doesn't mind, knowing that when it comes to being emotional and open, Bucky is typically the one she leans on. He's good at being a comforting shoulder.

"Oh god Sam," Steve sighs. "Y/n isn't cheating-"

"Yeah-"

"No she's not!" He shouts, startling them. "She's not. For the past few months we've been dating. The three of us."

The silence is almost amusing if Steve wasn't too busy thinking of his girl upstairs, upset.

"Like a throuple?" Bruce asks, confused.

Steve nods shortly. "Thanks for accusing her instead of talking it out. Appreciate it." He says icily, pushing around them. Stalking towards the exit, he calls over his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a girl to go check on."

Bucky has wrapped her up like a burrito in the comforter from his bed on the floor of her room, leaning back against the side of the matress with her sat between his parted thighs. Her eyes are still wet and swollen but she's giggling through her sniffles, a spoon hanging out of her mouth and a bowl of soup in her lap. They both look up when he enters the room, Y/n smiling shyly and Bucky relieved.

"We ok sweetheart?" He asks, waiting for her nod before looking to Bucky.

"We're good Steve," he promises, sweeping her hair over her shoulder with his hand and brushing his fingers through it. "She was just frustrated. Didn't know they could think she'd do something like that."

"That's because she wouldn't," Steve says firmly, sitting on the floor next to them. "and we know that y/n. We know you'd never hurt us like that."

"I love you Steve," she swears, resting her head on his shoulder. "And I love you Buck. Thanks for doing this for me."

"Course doll," Bucky says, kissing the side of her head. "Don't have to thank us for loving you." Steve hums his agreement.

"But..."Bucky quickly adds, "you can thank me after I beat Sam's ass for calling you that."

Steve sighs, rolling his eyes. "Buck..." He says warningly but he doesn't even finish the scolding thought because their boyfriend's threat has made y/n smile and that's all they could ever ask for.

#stucky x reader #stucky blurb #Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes blurb #steve rogers blurb

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clonehub · 2 years

Note

Well now that you've started talking about Rex being easily flustered by personal compliments and how Cody loves to torment him during said episodes, I'd like to see that scenario. Ahsoka is being genuine and telling Rex he looks really nice in that suit he has to wear to this gala with the senators because Anakin didn't wanna go alone and Cody is nearby and just decides to be evil.

KJHDLKFJAHLKSDF OKAY

Anakin examines his reflection in the mirror, patting down the edges of his hair, the scent of thick hair gel descending on his nose. He sniffs, not really hating the smell but not enjoying it either.

Ideally, he'd wouldn't even be wearing hair gel. He'd suggested to Obi-wan that he could get away with parting his hair in the other direction and nearly got a lecture for it. "This gala is your duty" and "this lightsaber is your life" were starting to sound unnervingly similar.

So General Skywalker had to get fitted for a tux, and his Padawan had to get measured for a dress. It brushes the floor now, a little long because she's expected to wear heels. They lay discarded in the corner. Ahsoka is struggling to put her mascara on and swears when she smears it on the bridge of her nose.

"Is it too late to get called away for a sudden battle, Master?"

"Yes."

The buzzer rings and Ahsoka gleefully drops the makeup to go answer it. Commander Cody and Obi-wan take up the space that was the door, the former nodding a greeting to Anakin.

"Anakin, we're late," Obi-wan says.

"Hello to you too, Master! How was--" Anakin narrows his eyes at Obi-wan's hair, which has been parted in the other direction.

If Obi-wan notices, he doesn't say anything. "We're beyond fashionably late by now."

Rex exits one of the rooms of the hotel suite the trio occupies, working his fingers around a cufflink. "Sir, I just got word from Cody that--"

Anakin's head whips around so fast he hears something pop. "Now hold on--"

Ahsoka's eyes widen, the deep browns glowing with delight. A loud and crowing "Ooh!" starts up from her.

But it's Cody who goes in for the kill. "Now who is this?" he calls, raising an eyebrow. "Can't possibly be Captain Rex!"

Rex's head tips back as a look of barely-concealed pain crosses his features. He's immediately stepping backward into his room when Cody is across the space in a second, steering his brother back into the open. "And you got a fade!"

Rex slaps his brother's hand away from his head. "You'll mess it up," he says, overly stern.

Cody ignores him. "Custom-made tux with the medals to match." He sweeps a hand across Rex's right shoulder, dusting off imaginary lint.

Rex's tux is well-fitted, the tails of the jacket broadened at the ends to mimic the kama that would normally go with his armor. A few medals adorn the front lapel, and the sharp white cuffs of his shirt circle his wrists. Rex's boots are a shining, mirror-like black. His ears are flaming red.

Ahsoka is so close to laughing out loud that her canines start to show, forcing her to throw a hand over her mouth. "I almost didn't recognize you for a sec, Rex!"

Rex's mouth screws up.

Anakin snorts, closing the distance because as good as Rex looks, he didn't tie the cravat properly. This close he can see the red slowly creeping from Rex's ears to his entire face. "You clean up well, Captain."

Rex's hand twitches and his mouth presses into a firm line. "Thank you, sir," he mutters.

Anakin finishes fixing the cravat. Cody physically steers Rex toward the door. "Any more of this, and all those old donor ladies will break their banks trying to donate to our cause."

Rex huffs, either a retort or plea starting to make its way out of his throat. Somewhere in the background, Obi-wan chuckles.

The only thing more vicious than Rex's approaching snipe is Cody's smirk. "But I will say, the red doesn't suit you brother," he teases, flicking Rex's ear.

The Captain's hands immediately fly up to both ears, brown skin drowned in crimson as his shoulders hunch like he can physically shrink away from everyone's attention. "Aren't we late?" he demands, his voice pitching wildly between gruff and reedy. "Why are we still standing here?"

Cody laughs, the only thing louder than Rex's embarassment. He pats Rex on the shoulder. "We're leaving, brother, we're leaving."

#ask #captain rex #ahsoka tano #commander cody #anakin skywalker #mod writing #okay so the most in character here would be ahsoka kajshdlfajs #sorry yall cody's ripping rex apart would be more subtle than this think 😭#but also this was kinda fun kajsdhflakjsdf #in my head if I were to write it Officially it's just Anakin #being overly complimentary on purpose kajshflakjsdf #long post #?

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manjiropie · 3 years

Note

Hello! I really like your blog… could we have maybe some Angry, Mitsuya, Inupi and Rindou and some fluffy cuddles?

stop, you'll make me blush

:: warnings: none, just love and peace today <3

:: pairings : Souya (Angry), Mitsuya, Inupi & Rindou - aged x reader

a/n: I don't know about this but I hope you like it. I've been busy with school and shit but I love to imagine how it'd be cuddling with them (Souya was longer bc I have a special place for him in my heart, sorry sorey)

Souya.

It was a really pleasant weekend, the holidays came with a nice weather. You liked the holidays, which meant you had a break from school/work finally. However... It also meant that your two-years boyfriend, Souya, would spend the weekend working at the ramen shop he owned alongside his twin brother.

You pout helplessly as it hit five o'clock that Sunday. The previous day you'd spend with Hina, wandering around the streets and listening to her rambling about how excited she was for her wedding. You were proud of your boyfriend, of course. The shop was a success! But... You couldn't help but him there with you. Suddenly, you had an idea.

Souya would probably be worn out when he arrived home from work, so you, an exceptional girlfriend, decided to prepare him a little surprise. It wasn't going to be much because it were the last minutes, but you knew he'd like it.

You were in your most comfortable pajamas; the bed you shared with him had bowls of candy and popcorn– caramel flavored, it is his favorite. If you couldn't go out with him, you'd have your time chilling in bed then.

You awaited for him eating some candies here and there because you couldn't wait. Finally, when it already felt like ages but had only been twenty minutes, you hear the sound of keys coming from the other room. You jumped out of the bed and ran barefoot to meet him. Souya was putting down his keys when you came and embraced him from behind.

"Hi!" he greeted. It was so cute when you two started dating how you'd catch his lips turning upwards slightly whenever he saw you. It is still cute, who are you kidding? "Sorry I couldn't be with you this weekend." He apologized in a small voice.

"Oh no, no, no," you grabbed his hand and started yanking him to the bedroom. "I have something for you!" You spoke like a kid leading their parents to the living room on Christmas morning.

You turned on the bedroom lights and watched him as he squinted his eyes, adjusting to the bright light. Oh God, his messy curly blue hair reflected the amount of work he must have had... He looks so cute though, serious face with a frown, like a little kid with cotton candy hair.

"Let's watch a movie, I already chose your favorite one!" You pushed him to the bed where he sat leaned back. His face was of pure confusion, which made you giggle.

"Fruitvale Station." Souya said to himself. He loved the movie, it always made him shed some tears. You get up from the bed and turn off the lights, kissing him in the mouth briefly before sitting down and hand him the popcorn.

Despite the fact you literally shoved him into the bed and shoved the popcorn bowl onto his face, Souya appreciated it dearly! He liked to watch movies with you, unlike his twin brother, who'd ask something every five minutes, you watched the movie and he enjoyed it.

But when you look at him when the sad part of the movie comes up, you see that his eyes are drifting close and the bowl– now half empty –is almost slipping from his hands. You put the bowls aside, carefully taking the one from him. He blurts out something when you slowly pokes him on the shoulder to make him lay down.

"Uh... The movie's over?" he opens a lazy eye.

"Yes, love."

"Didn't even cry this time." he adjusts his he's don the pillow, the sound of your laugh makes him a bit more awake and all of sudden you feel two hands pulling you to his side. He lays on top of your stomach and snuggles his head down on the soft fabric of your clothes. You smile to yourself and plays with his hair.

"Sing for me?" You hear his sleepy voice.

"Sing?"

"Mhm."

You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, that's new. You don't sing, you just hum a soft melody your grandfather used to sing for you. You hope that it'll content him and all your doubts are cleared when you listen to his soft breathing and incoherent mumbles as he hugs your waist like a plush toy.

Mitsuya.

Mitsuya is the king of cuddling, change my mind. You can't. It doesn't matter if he's had a tough day at work or it was a lazy day at home, he will look forward to cuddling you in any circumstances.

Mitsuya likes to hold you with your back on his chest. But he won't go to sleep immediately, no. You two will lay in that position (most of the times he's the big spoon, he likes holding you and you love how you feel sheltered in his arms) and will talk about your day. Mitsuya takes this moment very seriously. He wants to know about your day, what were the things you did, what did you eat, if you enjoyed it... All of it while rubbing your back/arms/waist or fiddling with your hair. He also leaves feather kisses on your shoulders.

Cuddling with him is always so good even if you're not going to sleep. Whenever he's not so busy sewing he will grant you your wishes and will lay down with you talking about all and nothing.

He likes it though, it's not like he's doing it just because you asked, he enjoys it. The proximity of you two and how he's showed you that there are other ways to love without being sexual. You love that about him.

Inui.

At first it was complicated to bring Inui to cuddle. It still is sometimes, but he is working on it.

From the very beginning you've noticed that whenever you'd be talking to him and looking him right in the eye he'd look away or turn his head away. He probably didn't his burn scar. It didn't matter how many times you'd tell him you thought it made him look tougher and cooler, he wouldn't believe you.

As you two lay down, the way you like to stay is face to face, very close. You will put a leg over his and throw an arm over his shoulders, caress his hair or trace his features.

Inui knew what he had gotten himself into, but when you two made your relationship official it became much clearer how clingy and touchy you are. He still doesn't like this much touch but he allows you because of how you'll smile until you're asleep. He likes the view so he makes an effort.

He's a pretty good listener, so you will mess with his hair and sneak some kisses here and there as you tell him whatever it's in your mind. He'll listen carefully while examining your sleepy face. You always fall sleep first and he watches you with puppy eyes.

Rindou.

Rindou is another hard case. Rindou HATES cuddling. He pretty much would rather have his own blanket and turn to the wall than sleep tangled with you. The reason to that it's because he sweats a lot. I'm not kidding. And it's not in a bad connotation, it's just that he sleeps with the blanket covering all of himself leaving out only his nose –sometimes not even the nose. He's just in a silly goofy mood every night and likes to pretend he's a butterfly in a cocoon 🤪

He will cuddle with you in the couch though, with you on top of him or in a large armchair. No talking though, he reads a lot so you can sneak into his lap and enjoy his warmth in deep silence while he reads and adjusts his glasses on his nose every seven minutes.

He likes to hold you close, and will rub whatever part of your skin that's showing. But remember, don't talk while he reads or he'll push you to the floor!

<~>

#tokyo revengers x reader #Fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #souya x reader #souya kawata #rindou haitani #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya #tokyo revengers inui

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tartagliaxx · 3 years

Note

Whoa, i love your new dad posts about childe and zhongli! Can i request it too for kaeya? How he tried his best to grasps that he is now a happy father after his dark past? Thank you ❤️

" TEARS DO NOT SUIT US "

━━ ☆ PAIRING: kaeya/reader

━━ ☆ GENRE: fluff, hurt/comfort

━━ ☆ SUMMARY: there are things that even kaeya doesn’t know and maybe that’s alright because perfection isn’t expected of him anymore. all that matters now is that he tries.

━━ ☆ WARNINGS: spoilers on his backstory

late nights were spent locked in his office with a cup of coffee as he stares off to the distance — sometimes to the stars that frowned at him, sometimes at his reflection that didn't even attempt to hide his dejection, and sometimes, to nothing in particular.

it was wrong. he wasn't arguing that his decision to run away was a justified act because he knew that it wasn't. it wasn't right for you to be the only person trying to hold the house that you two built together up, it wasn't right for you to believe that the reason for his sleepless nights at the headquarters was related to work and it wasn't right for you to be left in the dark when he promised that it'll be the last thing he'll do to you.

"how pathetic," he mumbled with a humorless smile as he took a sip from his lukewarm cup, "what a man you've become."

pathetic was kaeya who didn't know what to do. pathetic was kaeya doing the one thing he's good at — hiding away until the fear subsides into something manageable because god knows that it'll never disappear from his heart. pathetic was kaeya who chose to satiate the voices in his head that manipulated him with his insecurities like he was a weak man when now of all times, he had to be strong for three.

four hours earlier than the new usual — eleven o'clock in the evening. he knew you'd be fast asleep, too tired from the stress of work and chores combined, and despite having a heavy heart, there was gratitude and relief. perhaps it was selfish of him, maybe even unfair, but kaeya wanted to be infallible in your eyes and not... whatever he was right now.

before he could fall into another spiel of self-deprecating thoughts, a sharp cry broke through the night, and suddenly, he moved. it's instinct, it's subconscious, it's natural.

he was awkward as he tried to navigate through the dark hallway, feet thudding as soft as they could against the flooring. was it alright for him to do this or was he overstepping his boundaries by suddenly deciding to be a father after many weeks of being absent in his child's life? kaeya suddenly paused, lips parting in horror midway through twisting the doorknob open.

would you look at that... he was just like his father...

kaeya gritted his teeth before pushing the door open. dirty, bitter, maddeningly foul. even the demons in his head didn't hate him as much as he did at that moment.

but as if he was made for it, he knew what to do. peering over the crib, periwinkle met periwinkle, and all the seas of turmoil calmed for both father and child. an easy smile — the easiest he has had in the past month and an adoring glaze over his tired features. kaeya was a sight to behold.

"hello, little bunny... miss me?"

the baby giggled, hands closing and opening, beckoning for their dad to cuddle them or lift them up or anything — just needing his touch that instant. with a soft laugh, kaeya leaned down, letting the child grip on his hair as he gathered them in his arms, stiff and a little clumsy but warm... so warm that the baby couldn't help but coo the moment they found their new home.

"you enjoying that?"

'that' was the baby leaning against his chest, curiously listening to his heart that beat and beat and beat until it almost hurts because this... this affection, this security, this comfort... all of these he was depriving himself of for the longest time for a reason not even half as good as this.

"you need to be a little quiet at night, bunny. you'll wake up the entire city!" a boop on the nose, which prompted a giggle from the baby, "i don't know what i'll do if someone files a complaint against you and it ends up on my table! oh dear... what would master jean say? will you get daddy fired?"

with a toothy grin, kaeya trudged to the small sofa you insisted you needed to have while attempting to play 'peek-a-boo' with the thoroughly amused baby. plopping down the soft cushion with a thump, he made a mental note to thank you later for being so stubborn because that sofa was godsent.

"so, what does my lovely partner usually do to make you sleep, hm?"

he didn't expect an answer but it still came in a very deep gurgle that shouldn't have come out of a little, pretty being such as his child. with a genuine snort, kaeya slowly laid across the couch, one arm folded as a pillow while the other remained around the baby who was now nuzzling their cheek on his bare chest.

"hmm... do you want to hear a fairy tale?" no reply.

"i suppose that's a no. something to eat?" the baby blew him a raspberry much to kaeya's delight, chest vibrating as a laugh poured out of his lips.

"definitely a no. then, what do you want little bunny?"

the child merely blinked at him innocently and if kaeya didn't know any better, he would've felt as if the child was mocking him for being so ignorant. though if he was being honest with himself, the little taunt wasn't undeserved.

"fine then... would you care to listen to daddy's little rambles?" kaeya sighed, closing his eyes as he ran a hand over the small tuft of hair on top of the baby's head.

"my father was never around — too busy with plotting this and that. he never taught me how to tie my laces or how to start a fire when you're out in the wild. he was never there to watch me grow up nor was he there when i needed to be loved."

"he would frown at my tears and curse me for being weak. he would never even think of wiping them for me." but kaeya did and with a gentle hand, he swiped the remnants of the tears shed before this intimacy.

"and as a child, i always thought that the 'wrong' was with me — that i'm the one who's unworthy of being loved. so i tried, i tried so hard to please him... but he left me anyway. alone and unloved in a place far away from home."

kaeya groaned, muscles straining as he sat up so the baby was in his lap instead of his chest. grabbing a stray piece of napkin, he wiped the drool that slowly slipped off his baby's puckered lips.

"maybe it was a blessing in disguise because, for the first time, i met a man who, in a sense, loved me for who i am. he took me in, worried over little scrapes and bruises that were nothing to my real father and... he taught me that love is for everyone, be it a sinner or a saint."

bitter because of resurfacing memories, sweet because the source of his new ones was just in his grasp. "in the end, he left me — left us — too."

it was too quiet and usually, the quiet unnerved kaeya. silence meant he could hear his heart pump out blood, hear the muffled screams of his arguing neighbors, hear the loud, confusing pulls of the conflict in his head. but today felt different and silence only meant he had the time and place to flesh out the fears he had been avoiding for the past few weeks.

"i'm scared." a flicker of light or maybe, a teardrop that didn't follow through, "i don't know how to be a father because i never had one. i'm scared that i'll be like him and i'll end up hurting you. i'm scared because i can't bring myself to trust myself."

"little bunny if you knew what goes on in here—" in here was his heart and his mind. "you wouldn't trust me either."

"most men would hold their children and see their bright future, flower gardens, and white fences — growing old. i see you and i... i see the city burning, i hear your cries, i feel your pain in my hands. you deserve so much... so much more than me. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. gods, i'm sorry."

but how could a man who holds their child as if they're porcelain, talks to them as if they are a god, cries for them as if a softhearted reader — how could that man ever hurt them intentionally?

"i'm sorry you had to be stuck with me but... i'm going to try my best. i won't let you go through what i did. i'm here. i'm right here and i'm not leaving. no more running away."

no more running away. seemingly appeased by his declaration, the young child's eyes fluttered to a close, allowing themself to be pulled into the welcoming arms of slumber. cautiously, kaeya brings his child back to the crib, eyes misting over in relief and adoration.

"you know... they never fall asleep that fast."

"ah, ah..." kaeya wagged his pointer teasingly, lips lifted to show that charming grin you badly wanted to kiss off, "where are your manners? did no one tell you that it's bad to eavesdrop?”

"i really don't want to hear that from you, mr. i-hang-around-the-tavern-for-wine-not-gossip."

with a huff of amusement, kaeya approached you, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. "i concede. how long have you been awake?"

"i wasn't sleeping. i'm always too tired to greet you properly nowadays so... i wanted to do it right this time around."

"darling i—"

"now, don't do that. don't apologize. you did nothing wrong."

you breathed out, incredibly relieved to finally have him in your arms after what felt like years. his sweet perfume that was reminiscent of sandalwood and coffee invaded your senses and it truly felt like coming home.

"you know..." you started, pinning your chin to his shoulder as your eyes found solace on the undisturbed crib. "i was aware that this situation would be hard to adjust to. it's entirely new for the both of us and given what you went through, i could only imagine what it's like for you."

he could feel you breathe — feel your pulse — and it calmed him as strange as it sounded to the untrained ear.

"i know that you don't see yourself being a good father but i do and your child does as well. and sure, maybe you won't ever be the perfect father but we don't expect that from you. that's too high and too cruel to be set on your, or anyone's, shoulders. you being here tonight? that just proves you're already so much better than many others."

"we'll get through this together— hey, wait." you pulled back, concern dripping on your face as you felt water droplets against your nightwear. "don't cry. it doesn't suit your pretty face."

kaeya let out a watery laugh, hands moving to wipe the tears that unknowingly started to fall from your eyes as well, "nor does it suit yours."

"and theirs, as well." you followed his gaze to the source of the quiet snores that filled the room. "look at me."

kaeya interlaced your hands, placing them against his chest that throbbed painfully in newfound determination, "i'll do everything for you two if it meant you'll be happy and safe. both of you... you're so special and i'll try to be a father and a husband you both could be proud of."

"honey," you sighed, overjoyed and content, "you already are."

there were so many unpredictable things in the world but they meant very little to kaeya — not when he’s happy, not when he’s loved, and not when he finally found people he could confidently call his family.

━━ ☆ NOTES: hello! thanks for requesting. i may or may not have slightly derailed from the original topic but i hope you still liked it nevertheless!

━━ ☆ SIMILAR WORKS: dad!au masterlist

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smalls-words · 2 years

Text

My Little Martian

Summary: Where M’gann’s shapeshifting, although cool and incredibly useful, has a drastic effect on her mental health that you know just how to comfort.

Pairing: M’gann M’orzz/Miss Martian x GN!Reader (Zatanna!Sister)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Derogatory terms (alien), body dysmorphia, painful crying (to read and to write), light mention of making out.

Words: 1,347

Requested: yes/NO

A/N: This was actually painful to write, since I have body dysmorphia as well. If you feel the same, you are loved, for every part that makes you you.

*gif not mine*

You loved being a part of The Team, especially with your sister Zatanna. Your missions were amazing, they were all so nice and humorous in their own ways - Kaldur found human things odd, so you had to explain some to him. Wally explained science to you, Gray loved to show off the gadgets he built, and Cassie enjoyed it when you would braid her hair and talk for hours with her.

And let’s not forget your stunning, beautiful, powerful Martian for a girlfriend.

M’gann, Megan to those at school, was yours - she held a smile only for you, a greeting, a hug, a mental bond, just for you. You were her safe space, and even if you didn’t know it, she needed you now more than ever.

She sat alone in her room, staring at the mirror as she thought back to what someone had said to her that day. A car chase had led through the suburban streets of the local town and almost collided with a crossing full of children.

And whilst parents were forever thankful, the driver was not.

“You just broke my nose!”

“Watch where you’re going next time!” She huffed back, checking on one of the kids that had scraped his hand.

“You okay, little guy?”

“You totalled my friggin’ car!” The man yelled again, blood dripping from his nose as his anger rippled over M’gann and she stood up.

“Before you totalled all these kids!”

“You better get out of my face, you filthy alien!”

She closed her eyes as the pain in that moment washed over her again, bringing a tear to her eye. She hated that word, despised it with every cell in her body, even if it met the standard Earthian definition.

It waded into her nightmares, bringing about her greatest fears and warping them into a vision as she remembered last night’s.

You stood in front of her, glaring at her as she stood in her most comfortable form with her pyjamas on.

“Do you mind changing your skin to a normal skin colour please?” You grumbled, fiddling with your earrings after a night out.

“I was worried for you. You were gone for so long, I was about to call Conner-”

“I was with Cassie, we were fine.” You huffed, placing the earring down before going to the other one.

You glanced at her reflection, her eyes staring back at you worriedly, and you threw your arms up in the air in annoyance. “Can you just look normal for once?! Enough of this façade; you’re not even a Green Martian!”

She inhaled deeply as she opened her eyes, her reflection almost glitching as she couldn’t decide on what form to take. Green? White? Human? Would that satisfy you in her wild nightmares?

Without even knocking, you entered the room you knew as your safe space and grinned at the presence of your girlfriend.

“Hey, love - wanna watch Hello Megan? Gar says it’s on right now.” You asked, turning the TV on at the end of the bed, humming along to the theme song before you noticed M’gann hadn’t moved towards you like normal.

“Baby? You okay, tesora (treasure)?”

You stood as she made no sounds, but when you saw her skin flicker from green to white, you immediately moved so that you could see her reflection and it broke you. Your girlfriend was sobbing silently, her mouth open in a silent wail, and you immediately hugged her from behind to hold her up.

“Hey, hey, hey - what’s the matter? Honey…” You cooed, brushing her hair between your fingers before it disappeared.

“I can’t…” She cracked, her quiet voice breaking you.

M’gann was normally a happy, boisterous person. It’s what drew you to her in the first place - her sweet nature, kind heart, and abilities that were the most useful in the team besides yourself and your sister.

“Y-Y/N/N, please don’t leave me. I promise, I’ll look like whatever you want me to look like, just don’t leave me.” She sobbed in your arms and you knew better than to keep her standing.

Instead, you brought her onto the massive bed, fit for her White Martian form. Her back rested on your left arm whilst the other held her head against your chest, knowing that your beating heart would calm her slightly.

“M’gann, my precious little Martian, why the tears?” You whispered softly in her ears, watching as her shapeshifting calmed and she eased back into the Green Martian shape you adored, her long hair matching the TV character paused on the screen.

“S-Somebody called m-me a…” Her voice hitched and she couldn’t continue without her voice cracking, which she knew you hated - but only because you ‘hated seeing her sad’, you had reminded her so many times and now it was almost drilled into her brain.

“Who called my baby those disgusting words?” You asked firmly bur lovingly, lifting her eyes to meet yours and you fell in love once more.

“Some guy I s-stopped with Kaldur yes-yesterday…”

You pulled her in tighter to you and, with her permission, searched her mind for the face of the man. You instantly relayed the thought to Zatanna, knowing she’d either have her tongue down Gray’s throat or be close enough for him to match the face.

“Look at me, M’gann.” You muttered, stroking her quivering bottom lip before you pressed your foreheads together.

“I know that’s not the whole story. My baby doesn’t react like this when a stupid human calls her a slur, let alone a man.” You brushed your lips with her nose, pecking it softly before moving back.

“Will you guide me?” You offered your hand and opened your mind, waiting patiently for her to make the first move.

She nodded slowly, taking both parts of you, and led you through to her nightmare that brought tears and anger to your soul. You hated that image of yourself, wanting to kill it then and there, but you knew it was just a dream and you soon left her mind.

You sniffled, your teary thoughts having become a reality, and you tightened your hug around your girlfriend.

“Esolc eht rood. Yltofs. (Close the door. Softly.)” You muttered, a golden sheen at your hand that made the door do exactly what you said, nothing but a click of the lock disturbing your peace.

“My darling M’gann, I will never be ashamed of your looks. It is your body and your mind, not mine or anyone else’s. And you wanna know something pretty cool?” You grinned softly, kissing the corners of her eyes and she nodded.

“When I first met you, I didn’t actually see you. I saw your soul and I still see it now.” Your eyes glowed golden and M’gann felt her heart melt even further, the hue enhancing your natural colour.

“It burns with such passion, such emotion, and… so much love that I feel like my heart will explode every time I see you. This planet is filled with so much hate, for you and for other non-terrestrials alike. They know how special you are, I know how special you are, but the difference between me and them is that they let their greed win. I will never - you are my tesora, and I will treasure you for as long as you will let me.”

You placed a few more chaste kisses on her face, brushing her freckles, dimples, scars and anything you could get your hands on.

“I love you, no matter whether you wear green skin or white. You are M’gann M’orzz, and nothing can or will change that. Okay?” You asked, leaning in close to wait for her lips.

“Thank you.” She whispered, kissing you softly.

After changing into some comfy pyjamas, you grinned and she rolled her eyes, giving you a pair that smelled exactly like her - earthy and honey. You snuggled the collar against your nose and inhaled deeply, making her giggle as she crawled on top of you and laid her head on your chest.

“My Y/N/N. My little magician.”

“My little Martian.” You whispered back, grinning as you kissed her once more.

She tucked her head underneath your chin and eyed the TV screen as her favourite show played, her fingers dancing on your chest to the music and lightly scratching it to soothe herself when the characters talked. Swirls decorated your chest, leaving behind no marks, and you simply tucked the bed sheets over her as she descended into a peaceful slumber.

Oh yeah - you were whipped.

#miss martian #m'gann m'orzz #m'gann m'orzz x reader #smalls-words

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