#but not human enough that there’s something off. they don’t quite fit in and they always felt on the outside looking in
Text
When MC is a Writer
You’ve written several books back in the human realm, some posted online while others were published. You have some works unfinished but since you were taken to Devildom, you had to put them on hold. Eventually the brothers find out about your hobby.
Hi I had this idea while I was reading light novels. Certain brothers would have certain themes in whatever is being written to fit them, but feel free to imagine what kind of story your MC would write. Thanks for reading!
------------
Lucifer
Lucifer was out on a stroll on RAD when he spotted you with Simeon having lunch together, looking deep in discussion. He does notice that you both have been spending a lot of time together and a part of him is curious as to why that is. You’re either talking with Simeon during lunch breaks or meeting up with him after school. He’s not jealous, Lucifer is more intrigued as to what must be so important that you come home late after your visits with the angel.
You were both in his study when he finally asked you about it. You were late for dinner yesterday after coming home late from purgatory hall, Lucifer wouldn’t want you to start ditching your duties if it’s your turn to make dinner for the week. You explain to him that you’re not trying to avoid your chores at all, there’s just something that you needed Simeon’s help with. Now what could possibly Simeon do that Lucifer couldn’t? He probes a bit more until you spill the truth.
You tell Lucifer that you and Simeon are meeting up together because you’re trying to tie the loopholes in this story that you were writing, and Simeon has given you great advice as a fellow writer. Now Lucifer is intrigued, enough to the point he put down his fountain pen and paused in his work. That can wait until tomorrow, he wants to hear all about your writing. He won’t pressure you into talking if you don’t want to tell him yet, but he promises not to make fun of whatever you make.
You both enjoy a glass of demonus while you tell Lucifer the premise of your story, giving him enough background and detail for him to understand the part that you’re having trouble writing. Surprisingly, Lucifer is also quite a big help as he asks you thought provoking questions and offers suggestions that you can try to implement into your works. Given that he’s read several pieces of literature for the years he’s been alive, he has a lot of insight on what you can do to pace your story better.
There’s a small smile on his face as he notices how your eyes shine every time you figure out a way for you to write the next parts, and he sits there in his spot sipping on his drink while you talk about what you can do for future updates. It’s impressive just listening to you untangle such an intricate story as if you’re just placing pieces of a puzzle together. To him, your mind is beautiful.
Some time later, you found Lucifer by the living room with your book in his hand. He said that even though you explained the story, he still wanted to see how it really goes and appreciate your work. You asked if there’s anything you can do to thank him the other day for helping you, and all Lucifer asked is that he’s the first to know once you update.
Mammon
Mammon is lounging in your room while he’s checking his stocks and latest lottery results (he lost) when you start asking him questions about gambling. He interpreted this as you finally having an interest in his gambling habits so he began talking about the mechanics. Roulette tables, machines, you name it and he’ll explain it with great detail. It would make the brothers wonder why Mammon can’t even remember to do all his chores when he can recall all of these with ease.
You also ask about how people normally scheme and cheat in casinos. At first he thought you were accusing him even though he often does that in game nights at the House of Lamentation (Levi caught him), but then he realizes it’s just pure curiosity so he explains how he’s heard some people pull it off. It’s a high risk kind of stunt and since he doesn’t want to be banned from the casino then he doesn’t resort to those methods.
Mammon then starts questioning why you’re asking these. It’s not like you were going to gamble right? He silently hoped you weren’t in debt to the point you’re resorting to gambling but no that’s not the case. You tell him that you’re trying to write a scene and it takes place in a casino, and since Mammon spends a lot of his time in those places then his experience makes him the best person to ask. He was definitely turning red at that last part.
Mammon goes back to his room and since you talked about your writing, he searches for it online to check out your works. He didn’t know you were such a big shot in the reading community so he wants to see what your stuff was about. It started as reading the summary, to reading the introduction, and now he’s updated. They were all right, you’re good.
Mammon starts reading more often, though it’s mostly limited to the things you’ve written before. Satan has been trying to get him to read his personal recommendations but if it’s something written by you then he’s not hesitating to pick it up. Lucifer is personally thanking you for giving Mammon something that helped temporarily forget his gambling habits and dumb schemes.
If you have any more questions about gambling or anything, Mammon is always happy to tell you everything he knows. Heck, he even offered to bring you over to the casino to let you have some personal experience of whatever that is you’re writing but the brothers warned you against that idea if you want to come back home with Grimm still in your pockets.
Levi
Lately Levi has been reading a lot of Light Novels. Usually he’d be updating himself with manga he’s read to check for any new updates but he decided to pick on light novels that one of his favorite manga’s are based on. He claims that despite the manga and anime adaptations, there’s still a whole world of lore that there’s yet to discover so he wants to pick up on those, and he eventually came to appreciate these sorts of books.
He was going through some recommendations and read through some of them, but one series definitely caught his attention and he spent an entire night trying to catch up to the latest update. He went to the breakfast table with heavy bags in his eyes and a big pout on his face so you ask him what’s wrong.
He tells you that he found an interesting book series that has all his favorite tropes, but the author went on a sudden hiatus so there weren't any new updates as of recently. Biggest problem is that the chapter was left on a cliffhanger. You let him ramble on with the story until you realized that was one of your works. You were debating if you should admit it or not but maybe it’s best you do.
You explained that you were actually the author and the work was on pause because of the exchange program. You wrote it in the human realm but because you were taken to Devildom, you couldn’t find the time to continue writing. Levi wasn’t sure if he should believe you were actually the author because no way can this happen to him twice, first it was TSL now it’s this one.
He asked you several questions about the series like another TSL trivia quiz. His question went from easy basic knowledge to something oddly specific, but since you wrote it then you answered everything perfectly. Levi has that sparkle in his eyes that he usually has when he looks at his idols, except this time it’s with you.
Levi refuses to hear any major spoiler from you so that his reactions are genuine by the time you update. You’re instantly one of his favorite writers and he won't hesitate to hype up your work on any forum platform. He can talk about how much he loves your writing to the point that you’re motivated to go back to finishing the next chapters. Maybe you could let Levi take a peek to be the first person to read once you’re done.
Satan
It’s always a nice leisure time to just sit in a room with Satan, both of you doing your own thing while discussing books you’ve both read recently. Often though you both do that in his room but since his recent rampage left everything a bigger mess than it already was to begin with, your book discussions were held in your room for the time being until his place gets cleaned up. Barbatos is not going to be happy about it.
You can see how he’s dying to discuss the latest book he’s read so the moment you say he can go first, he’s talking almost to a Levi level kind of excitement. Satan tells you how he recently found a series he’s invested in. The story and pacing are so good that he was hooked on it immediately, recalling all his favorite lines and scenes from it. He talks about the work in high regards and how he hopes the author comes back soon with some updates.
You don’t know if you should be surprised that Satan has already come across your works considering that most of his days are dedicated to reading. You haven’t told him about this part of your life since he’s read so many good books, you fear it may not be up to match with other great writers so you kept it a secret from him. It's nice to see that Satan is praising your works, unaware that you were the author.
You left your laptop on one day and Satan didn’t intend to look but accidentally did. He thought it was a homework essay for one of your classes, but he was surprised to see your drafts of the next chapters. Satan wanted to assume you were those fanfic writers that Levi has been talking about, but he does see that it was all aligned to the latest update. Realizing how much he just talked about your work in front of you made him red from embarrassment, but he’s proud more than anything else.
He comes clean that he knows your secret while apologizing for taking a peek, but he’s quite ecstatic to be associated with someone as talented as you are. It’s one thing to be a fan of books, it’s another to be writing a good one. If you need a beta reader, he’s always ready to lend his services. He’s a quick reader and he can lend useful advice or proper criticisms. At least he can be useful to you and it’s a bonus to be the first out of everyone to read about it.
Other than being a huge bookworm, Satan is the most knowledgeable among the brothers so if you’re struggling with writing something you don’t know too much about then he’ll help fill in the gaps of your knowledge. If it’s something he’s not familiar with then expect to wake up the next day finding out that Satan spent the night researching it for you so he could answer any question you have. He’d love to help you out in whatever way he can.
Asmo
Asmo has been whining to the house of purgatory for any ideas because he needs to make some new content for his account because he wants to keep his followers entertained. He’s always doing makeup and skin care reviews because it’s what he does best (and also because he’s sponsored to do so), so Asmo is thinking of what’s something new he can do this time. It’s good to do something new from time to time to shock his fanbase.
Simeon suggests that Asmo should go read a book. At first the demon thought he was being condescending, but given that it’s a suggestion from Simeon then it’s definitely a genuine one. Asmo wanted to turn down the idea, though Simeon adds that he should read books up his alley. Perhaps a romance book should suit his tastes? They’re not too complicated to read and can be entertaining if written well. Being an Avatar of Lust, romance does sound intriguing and Simeon has the perfect book to recommend.
Asmo shocks everyone at the House of Lamentation when he comes home reading a book. It has a pretty cover and talks a tale of lovers, plus it was easy for him to digest since the book isn’t as thick and heavy like the ones that Satan normally likes to read. He seems overjoyed by the book that Simeon suggested to him and it must take a lot for a story to captivate Asmo that he almost forgets his nightly skin care routine.
He’s laying on your lap, swinging his feet with glee as he talks to you about this book he’s been fussing over. The story progressed so nicely between the two lovebirds, and each obstacle is so entertaining that Asmo can’t help but go through the next pages to see what happened. Does it strain the relationship? Do they break up? How will it go from here on then? It’s all too good! One of the best romance books he’s read so far.
The more he talked about the twists and the plot, the more you realized that he was talking about your book that you published before you even got to Devildom. You ask Asmo how he got his hands on that book since it’s from the human realm, and he tells you that Simeon suggested it. You sighed, of course it was Simeon. He was the only one who knew you wrote books because you told him, though you didn’t expect that he’d suggest it to Asmo of all people.
Eventually you come clean to Asmo that you were the author, and it took a bit of explaining until he would believe you. You showed him your old drafts of when you worked, maybe some pictures of that time when you were storyboarding the book so you could convince him. He’s shocked to see this precious human has quite the talent of writing romance novels, he almost believed that your works were written by cupid himself! His new promotional video is him raving about your books, talking about how his heart skipped a beat and whatnot. The sales spiked that day.
Beel
Beel came home from practice one afternoon and due to the intensive workout, he’s definitely starving for something. He bought some Black Puddle Jelly from Madam Scream’s before he went home because he thought about sharing them with you. Food always tastes better when it’s with you. He would’ve brought Belphie with him, though his twin is still in detention for pulling a prank on Lucifer during class earlier.
He looks for you but before he goes to your room, he spots you by the kitchen instead trying to cook up something. As far as Beel knows, it’s Levi who would be on dinner duties for tonight so he’s wondering what you’re doing in there. The aroma of what you were making is what drew Beel to you, and he asks what you were up to when you spot him behind you, mouth already watering.
You tell Beel that you’re trying to cook some recipe you found online while making use of the ingredients here in Devildom. It’s the first time you went out to buy every ingredient on your own to experiment, and Beel immediately points out to you which ones would probably be safe to eat and what would be dangerous to add in the dish because some ingredients won’t react well with each other. Even though Beel can most likely eat anything, he wouldn’t want you to accidentally poison yourself.
Beel watches you type down some notes on your phone and asks if that was for the recipe, though you tell him that you’re writing details. You’re attempting to cook with foreign ingredients because you’re trying to immerse yourself with a character you’re writing in your story. A character that’s trying to discover some new recipes with things they’ve never seen before.
You’re thankful for Beel’s advice about the ingredients earlier, it helped you gain some more insight and inspiration on what to do for the next chapters. You’re already imagining the culinary endeavors your character will go through while you’re chopping the mandrakes you got. The demon is happy to help and all Beel asks is that you feed him whatever you’re making when you’re done, since he likes your cooking after all. He sits by the island counter, chewing on the Black Puddle Pudding while he listens to you discuss your book with him.
Beel eventually walks up to you one day and admits that he tried to read your works. Your culinary adventure storyline is fantastic, but when it starts to describe all the delicious food that the character makes, Beel’s hunger starts to spike that he almost ate the page. There’s just something about the way you discuss the food that makes it sound so appetizing to him, he almost wants to recreate it with you. When you offer to read it with him while he eats some snacks, he has this happy smile on his face as he nods.
Belphie
Belphie just got back from RAD, stretching his limbs a bit and yawning as he opens the door. He just came back from detention for pulling pranks, and all he wants to do is to just fall asleep right now. He wanted to invite Beel for a nap but his twin is still in practice so he’s not available. You were the next person he had in mind, so he went out searching for you around the house.
He finds you by the planetarium, and he was ready to invite you to sleep but he sees that your focus has been going back and forth between your notes and the stars in the sky. Since Devildom always has an endless night time, you’re able to study the constellations as freely as you want. There’s no need for you to wait for the sun to set like you had to back in the human realm. There are books about Devildom stars scattered around you, ones you’ve borrowed from the library or from Satan’s collection so you can study them better.
He sits down next to you, resting his head over your shoulder and asking if you’re trying to memorize the constellations. You explain that you’re trying to get inspiration and notes for something you’re writing, a short fairy tale that’s dedicated to the stars this time. You’ve written fairy tales before you got here, and you want to make something inspired from Devildom stars. The constellations they have here are way different from what you normally see in the human realm, so you’re sure that the stories behind them are different as well.
A fairy tale about stars? Written by one of the people he cares about the most? Belphie is definitely interested in hearing more about it. He doesn’t try to tease you or anything about the fact you’re writing stories, he’s even willing to offer to help you by telling you everything he knows about the stars and the stories behind each constellation that he can remember at the top of his head in hopes that may spark more inspirations. Satan may know a lot of things, but Belphie is passionate about stars and you can feel it from the way he talks.
Belphie is incredibly drowsy the next day since he spent the night talking about your writing and helping you with it. He can’t help it when it’s about stars, and Belphie loves the way your eyes light up whenever you get an idea that you can put in. To him, it almost shines like the stars you’re writing about. He may have a vague idea of your story based on yesterday’s conversation, but he’s excited to read the final outcome. He’s seen glimpses of your works when you showed him your notes, it would definitely be worth the wait.
You invited him back to the planetarium because you want to show him your draft underneath all the stars. Even when he’s tired, he shows up and lays next to you to rest with all these pillows. The only favor he asked was that you read the fairytale for him while he rests, he promises he’ll try not to fall asleep. You read the story to him, occasionally checking if he’s still awake or not. Whenever you stopped, he would squeeze your hand and despite having his eyes closed, he would tell you to continue with such a groggy voice. He manages to at least hear the rest of it before falling asleep with a smile on his face.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios
72 notes
·
View notes
Text
How do people do OCs, I can never get them to click properly
#i think i’m holding back too much the idea is there in my head#but when i’m drawing i’m conscious that i might want to share this stuff at some point so the whole time i’m thinking#about making a good design and i don’t want to give them anything vaguely similar to anyone else’s oc because i don’t want to step on toes#so they end up barely a visage of what i want to be creating#idkkk#the idea i have in my head is an oc who’s a horse girl LMAO their companion is a fathier who they have a very strong inseparable bond with#i am a lifelong horse person and i grew up reading pony club secrets and watching stuff like flicka so i feel like i can bring#something personal to that concept#but i don’t want them to be a mando. i don’t know much about mando culture and i cba to learn so that was the one i did not want hem to be#and yet. i can only imagine them with mandalorian armour#they’re the same species as dryden vos. there’s next to no lore on his species and they’re non human in a way that’s easy to draw#so i can just make stuff up and not be constrained by canon#them being near human is also relevant to their story. they spent a lot of time around humans and they’re close enough to human to get by#but not human enough that there’s something off. they don’t quite fit in and they always felt on the outside looking in#hence why they prefer the company of animals#maybe i’ll have them formerly working in fathier racing but that might be too projecty#this is so rambly i apologise i’ve been very talkative on here recently#ohh this is very off the cuff but maybe they’re the child of loyal mandalorians but never really subscribed to it themselves#having spent a lot of time around fathiers also meant they spent less time around mandalorians. so despite technically being mando#and wearing the armour they don’t really identify very strongly as a mandalorian
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prompt 257
Now Danny loves space. He loves everything about it, to the point his core quite literally is space. And he’s also a baby ghost, even if he could argue he’s not in human form. But see, being baby has an honestly great consequence once it’s noticed- despite the Observants’ best attempts at hiding it, the assholes.
Of course he would be far more worried- and even a bit pissed- if his caretaker wasn’t who it was. Look, he’d never met Clockwork’s siblings before, but apparently everyone was really against Clockwork himself adopting.
But Clockwork as his uncle is fine. Besides, his caretaker is Space! Space itself is holding him, cooing gentle words in the sounds of the very cosmos. And they’re huge, like parts of their body going through portals so they can fit outside Long-Now sized big- and apparently Clockwork can get just as big and they can get even bigger-
Okay, he needs to take a breath- even if he doesn’t need to breathe- to stop his squealing because holy Realms this is so cool.
Space is awesome! And he’s getting so much more rest than he did in Amity- and even if Space sort of shrugged at the idea of school at first, they did help him set up online schooling. So there’s that, and it’s just the start!
He gets to learn so much about space and it’s honestly kind of… nice? To be taken care of? And he can do whatever he needs for his Core and Obsession with only a few interruptions to take care of his living needs. Erm, sort of living needs?
But even that gets turned into a bit of play or even a lesson too! He’s honestly having such a good time right now! He’s learning so much about spaaace! And dimensions! And interdimensional portals and- oops! No one saw that.
Ahem- But he’s learning so much about space and getting to explore other dimensions with Cosmos! And sure he no longer looks as human as he once did and all that, but he’s seen so many people who also don’t look human that does it really matter?
Of course it doesn’t, and he matches his sort-of-dad! Even though the streaks of color in their hair are more of a brown-red like they’re literally bleeding out the cosmos around them instead of it fading to void and space like his own. But still! They match and it’s fun!
And they’re going to go on another trip from the in-between to one of the dimension realities! He’s going to start a game of tag this time he thinks! But no cheating with portals or bending space! Tag!
Look, the Justice League? Not paid enough for this. In fact, technically not paid at all due to being volunteers (not that it stopped them from finding money in their accounts) but still.
There is some sort of figure… being… thing… zooming around the asteroid belt, about the size of Earth itself. Let them repeat themselves. A planet-sized creature (are those hands or paws? Tail or simply its body stretching? Hair or the Abyss-) is currently darting around the asteroid belt like a child running through grass.
That is, without noticing or caring if something bug-sized might be crushed. And they are very much bug sized, as the governments are concerned about. Like really concerned about. Like talking about trying to nuke the entity if it wanders closer sort of concerned.
Which they are all very concerned and very much like, against. Because it isn’t seeming to notice the asteroids it’s knocking into their area. It’s like… not a space whale or eel or anything like that but also is something like that.
And they would also maybe like to see if they can attempt to talk it down first maybe and-
oh.
Oh.
That creature is the baby. And mama just arrived, stretching across the entire galaxy, from them to Pluto and beyond, like something took the cosmos and shaped it like clay into some sort of form. Like reality itself has wandered into their galaxy with what they are suddenly realizing must be a very young child.
Shit, they really have to make sure no one tries to piss either of these things off-
#Prompts#DCxDP#DPxDC#Danny is like Lil Baby Man compared to Cosmos#But he’s the same size as the world too lol#Space Core Danny#Clockwork is a triplet lol#Clockwork Chaos & Cosmos the children of Infinity & Reality#Let Primordials & Ancients be Eldritch#Are those stars or eyes? Hair or strands of time? Clothes or the fabric of reality? Wound or black hole?#Danny: I am doin good at hidin- the best at hide and seek#Cosmos veery slowly floating after: Oh nooo where has my ghostling hid where could they have goone to *knows exactly where he is*#Can they *technically* go smaller? Yeah but they’re used to where All of Space-Dimension-Portals meets#Danny is Not ghost king he’s bby Space Ancient#Why were people against Clockwork adopting? He never finished divorcing Pariah before he got thrown in the nap box
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
But Put Together, the Cracks We’ll Close In
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Setting: Early Alexandria
Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of past child abuse; mentions of suggested abortion; blood and injury
Summary: Fresh into Alexandria, Daryl meets his match in a two year little girl and slowly loses his heart to her mother. You.
A/N: Based on the request/headcanon from @louifaith
Just a couple of things. The child is described as in hair and eye color. Nothing is mentioned of reader so these traits could come from her father. There is also the mention of an “Eskimo kiss.” I grew up using that term but I’m not sure if it is offensive or PC nowadays. please feel free to send me a message if I need to change it. It is not my intention to be offensive to anyone! Also, sorry if anyone likes Spencer. He's always my go to asshole.
“S’that?”
Daryl felt the opossum sway in his grip, looking down with a scowl firmly plastered at the bright eyes returning his gaze, brimming with curiosity. She was a toddler, maybe two years old? Christ, someone had a toddler in this mess. “Dinner.” He grunted, pulling the dead animal out of her reach. He found out quickly that the curious little creature would not be deterred so easily. Standing on her tip-toes, she made a grab for the marsupial. “Knock it off.” He huffed and took a step back, bumping into Carol.
“Daryl, she’s a child. Don’t be such a grump.”
“Ain’t you got a mama—family to get back to?” He snapped, ignoring his best friend. The little girl’s eyes brightened.
“Mama! Mama!” She clapped. Daryl rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm.
“Yeah, go get ‘er.” There was an intense sigh of relief when the little human went running (waddling?) out of sight. “They got kids here.”
“Yes, Daryl. That’s what that was.” Carol nudged him playfully. “The people seem to think they’re safe here. It gives me the creeps.” He nodded but didn’t comment. “They obviously don’t know what’s going on out there, not like we do. I think we need to be cautious here. Find a way to fit in but keep our guard up, you know?”
Daryl snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Ain’t got no intention of tryin’ to fit in with these folks. Livin’ in a fuckin’ fairytale here. Ain’t gonna last.”
“You’re such a ray of sunshine.” Sasha clapped him on the shoulder as she passed, earning yet another grunt.
“Mama, here!”
Oh dear god, no. “S’back.” The hunter stated flatly.
“Oh, and she brought a friend.” Sure enough, the little girl was dragging you along, tugging incessantly at your hand as if the child had found the world’s most priceless treasure. “You did tell her to ‘go get her.’”
“Nadia, slow down!”
And slow down, she did. Right in front of a scowl-wearing redneck with a bleeding opossum in his grasp.
“Mama, dinner! Dorl dinner.”
Dorl?!? Daryl looked helplessly over to where Carl was carrying Judith, the little light of his life. Would this be what she was like as she grew up? She already knew him, loved him despite how broken and hopeless he was. She would laugh at him if he was ranting about something and hold out those chubby little hands and he was done for, whatever had irritated him was forgotten.
But this child? This wasn’t his lil’ asskicker.
Daryl liked kids but he liked them from a distance. He had no business being around them, save for Carl and Judith. I wish I could have known Sophia. He wouldn’t bother getting to know anyone in this place. It’d burn like every other home they had anyway.
“Dorl, huh?” You smiled.
“Daryl.” He replied flatly, his lip curling.
“I’m Y/N. I assume Aaron found your group?”
He didn’t answer, too occupied with trying to continuously move away from the small child clumsily reaching for his knife sheath. “Stop that.” He barked, expecting the kid to balk. She did quite the opposite and wrapped her tiny arms around his leg, just below his knee. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Shake her off? Of course not. She might get hurt. While he really didn’t want to be touched, he couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow his job to make sure this kid wasn’t hurt. “Can ya—would ya—?” Shoulders slumped, he didn’t even gesture. You know what he was asking.
Chuckling, you reached down and gently pried the little girl loose. “Nadia, you’re supposed to ask before hugs, remember?”
“Hug Dorl.” The dark-headed child pouted.
That was his cue to step away, as quickly as possible, without running. He absolutely did not run.
When you looked up, he was already gone, lost in the middle of his group as they headed in to surrender weapons and be interviewed by Deanna.
Daryl sat on the now red-stained porch, prepping his kill for cooking later. Carol had scolded him and made him promise to use the backyard going forward, but he doubted they would be there long enough for him to need the area. It was just the way the world was. Nice places like this could never last.
“Dorl dinner!”
Jesus take the wheel. “Ya need a bell.” He grunted, looking around for you. “An’ apparently a leash.” Maybe if he ignored her, she would go find you. But what if she wandered off alone and somehow made it out of the gates? Shit. “Sit down, gremlin.”
She giggled and patted her chunky hands against her chest. “Nada.”
Daryl stopped moving and stared for a moment. Wasn’t that Spanish? Maybe? Wait. You had called her Nadia. Maybe that’s what she was trying to say. “Nadia?” Blue eyes squinted in wait.
Nadia bounced and nodded and then pointed at him. “Dorl! Dorl, Nada!”
He released his knife and leaned his elbow against his knee, the heel of his hand pressing into his forehead. “Dare-ul.” He tried.
“Dooorl.”
“Oh, for fucksake.” The archer gave up, picking up his knife and continuing with his task. Nadia didn’t even seem to notice what he was doing but leaned in closely with the most serious look he’d ever seen. He needed to lean back once she made it much too far into his personal space.
“Fucksy.” She said, maintaining eye contact as if she were challenging him.
“No! Don’t say that. Can’t be teachin’ ya sh—stuff like that!” He panicked, opossum forgotten. Daryl threw back his head with a groan. “Can’tcha please just go to your mama?”
Nadia’s little face lit up and off she went with a chorus of mama mama mama. Watching her go, Daryl wondered where the little one’s father was, but soon banished the thought. It was none of his business. What was his business was to make sure the annoying curtain-climber made it home safely. Abandoning his dinner—no time to cover it if he was going to catch up—he walked briskly until he caught sight of her. Little legs can fuckin’ move. We’re fucked when Jude learns to walk.
He stayed close, but far back enough to not catch her attention. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. Rounding the curb to the end of the street, he caught sight of the small house. Quaint compared to the other homes. The front door was open but he dared not go closer. Boots firmly planted on the sidewalk, he observed the struggle of a tiny human tackling front porch steps. Nadia was determined though. Had he chosen to help, he was certain she would give him that serious look again and yell at him in baby-speak.
“Nadia Avery, how do you keep getting out the door!”
Maybe cause you leave it open? He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.
Regardless, there you were, swooping down to gather the bundle into your arms with a couple of sobs and more than a few sniffles. “Baby, you have to stop doing that! You scare mommy.” Nadia was nuzzling your jaw but then suddenly pointed right at him.
“Dorl got Nada.”
When your eyes found his own, Daryl froze. His arms were out to his sides, his eyes wide. He looked nothing short of a deer caught in the sights of his crossbow when it realized it’s about to be shot. “I—uh, kid found me.” Forcing himself to relax a fraction, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Didn’t want ‘er wand’rin’ ‘round by herself.”
Your face softened into a grateful smile. “Thank you for making sure she got home.” He nodded curtly and you turned away, only to turn back in the same motion. “Would you like to come inside? I have some stew that I’m heating. Plenty for the three of us.”
A part of him that he didn’t know existed wanted to immediately accept the offer but the part of him that had kept him alive this long spoke louder. “Nah, got my own dinner I need to take care’a. Thanks, though.”
You nodded, the smile never faltering. “Think of it as a standing invitation. Nadia seems to like you. She’s a good judge of character.”
He snorted. “Alright.”
“Goodnight, Daryl.”
“Night.” He took two steps.
“Nigh’ nigh’, Dorl!”
He heard the sound of a kiss being blown his way, but didn’t turn around. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.
It had been three days since he had last seen you or Nadia. He found that it unsettled him but not enough to go looking. Aaron had gifted him a work area and parts to build himself a bike. It was the best thing anyone could have offered him at that point. He felt like he still wasn’t fitting in, and while that was the idea at first, now it just felt…lonely.
Carol was always gone when he got up and not home yet when we retired to bed. Rick and Michonne couldn’t stay out of the bedroom for more than five minutes unless something ‘coppy’ needed to be handled. Carl was always outside with Jude in the nice weather.
Daryl was alone. Though he usually preferred it that way, he couldn’t seem to shake the negativity it seemed to bring to the surface.
Spending time around something familiar from the old world came to be a comfort. When the posh little community with its “good morning” while walking the dog and laughter over coffee at the gazebo became too much for Daryl, he disappeared into Aaron’s garage. Aaron and his husband seemed okay in the archer’s book. They never once stared at him like he was going to rob them blind or beat them to a pulp. They showed him kindness even if his only attempts at conversation consisted of nods and grunts.
“You going to this party tonight?” Aaron asked from the doorway the led into the house from the garage.
“Nah.” Daryl picked up a wrench and continued his work, not giving the question a proper thought.
“You really should make an effort to get to know more people here.”
“They don’t like me. Shouldn’t, really.” The archer shrugged.
“They just don’t know you. Maybe you should give them a chance.” Aaron kept his persuasion in the doorway. He had gifted Daryl that space and was unwilling to step into it without an invitation he was unlikely to receive without asking.
“Better they don’t know me.”
There was a sigh that made Daryl curl his lip. “Just think about it, okay?” The shuffle of feet and the door opening signaled the other man’s exit.
Why should Daryl go? He had little interest in fitting in, even when his own group was making such an effort. Carol and Rick were wary and had whatever it was they had but Carol would tell him if she felt it necessary. Daryl was just plain wary, utterly uninterested. Most of them would likely be dead soon and he didn’t need anyone else to mourn.
So why he found himself showered and in a fresh set of clothing that was his own form of presentable was absolutely beyond him. It had nothing to do with the fact that on his walk home, he thought maybe you’d be at the party. Nope, nothing like that.
He had made it at least to the yard outside, watching the festivities through the window. Everyone he knew seemed so at ease in there. Dressed up, laughing and drinking. Mingling like they belonged there. He didn’t belong there.
“Nah.” He said softly before turning away. He was passing by Aaron’s house when a call of his name from that familiar voice had him stopping with a sigh. “Yeah?”
“You went. Good for you. Did you have a good time?” Aaron asked from the porch. Daryl shrugged. The man’s eyes narrowed and suddenly the archer was nervous, feeling judged. “You didn’t go in, did you?”
Daryl shook his head. “Just ain’t my thing.”
“Hey, you tried.”
“Why didn’t you go?” That wasn’t supposed to sound so accusatory but Daryl was tired and had simply had his fill of the day and that place.
“Eric’s ankle is still giving him trouble. We just thought it best to skip out on this one.”
This one? Christ. That insinuated there would be more. With an inward groan, he answered outwardly with a grunt.
“We’ve got dinner ready. More than can feed us. Can we tempt you?” The offer was sincere and Daryl was hungry, but his battery was running on fumes. He glanced toward his own home and then back at Aaron. “Eric makes a mean spaghetti, man. Come on, you’re already out.”
Daryl sighed. “Fine.” He was grateful for the invitation, he just sucked at showing it, as with almost every other emotion. Aaron held open the door and with a nod, the archer entered, still ill at ease being inside someone else’s home when his own still felt less than comfortable.
“Dorl.”
Before he could prepare himself, Nadia was latching onto his lower legs. Arms out awkwardly, he glared at Aaron. “Didn’t say she was here.”
The man just shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t say she wasn’t either.”
“Hi, Daryl!” You came around the corner from the dining room, no doubt to gather your spawn but he couldn’t seem to form a thought around the smile you were giving him.
“Mama! Dorl!”
“I can see that, baby. You think you can let go so that he can walk?” Nadia shook her head with a vicious pout.
“Dorl up?”
“What?” He looked down at the toddler and back up at you, silently hoping you’d act as translator for the little gremlin.
“She wants you to pick her up. You don’t—”
For reasons unbeknownst to even him, he bent down and placed his hands beneath Nadia’s arms, lifting her onto his hip. It felt no different than holding Judith. Nadia was heavier of course.
“Dorl!” Chubby arms wrapped around his neck, her little cheek rubbing against his stubbled one. “Tickle.” She giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world and repeated the action.
You were still smiling but much more softly. “She really likes you.” Daryl grunted. “You don’t say much, do you?”
“Ain’t gotta lot to say.” He shrugged the shoulder Nadia’s chin was resting on, sending her into another fit of giggles. She pulled back suddenly, very in his space and then pressed her face against his cheek. He flinched but otherwise didn’t move. There was the smallest flutter that tickled his skin before she reared back again, smiling proudly. “What—”
“Butterfly kisses.” You informed, arms crossed but your smile hidden behind your hand.
“What the fu—heck’s that?”
“Oh come on, you never gave your mom butterfly kisses?” You chuckled.
Daryl felt nauseous at the mention of his mother. The only thing he’d shared with her were bruises and a few after-beating hugs. But you didn’t know him. He took the anger and locked it down, but it must have spilled into his expression.
“I’m sorry.” Your smile was gone, but to his surprise (and relief), there was no pity in your eyes. Only understanding. Still, it wasn’t a subject he cared to let linger.
He turned his attention to the child, who had developed a sudden interest in the hair over his ears. “Ya ever gave a Eskimo kiss?” He almost laughed out loud when Nadia’s eyes flew wide with wonder. She didn’t confirm or deny but the fact that she hadn’t moved was answer enough. “S’simple.” Daryl brought a hand up to the back of her head and gently urged her forward, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers. “There. Eskimo kiss.”
She kept those wide eyes as her little mouth began to spread open into one of the biggest smiles he’d ever seen on a kid, granted he hadn’t spent much time around any.
“Again!” She squealed, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him forward. He expected to have a bloody nose from the force with which she came at him, but her movements became deliberate and gentle, as if getting it right was the most important thing in the world.
Nadia was incredibly pleased with herself, her little hands patting against Daryl’s chest before she wiggled out her request for freedom and sprinted toward the dining room with this newfound information to share with Eric and Aaron.
“Careful.” You said, though there was no hint of anything unkind in your tone. When he looked away from the other room, he found your expression to be one he couldn’t seem to identify. It was soft yet guarded. He didn’t move away when you reached a single hand out to adjust his vest. “You’re smiling.” And you walked away, leaving him there to realize that he was indeed wearing a small, lopsided grin.
He shook it off with a groan, absolutely regretting his decision to come in for dinner.
“Dorl!” Came the loud shout from the table. “Dorl, sketti!”
This was not going to end well.
It had been two weeks since the spaghetti dinner, which in fact had ended rather pleasantly. Aside from your giggles when he realized he was eating his meal with the same gusto and manners as the toddler next to him, Aaron had offered him a job that let him go outside the walls. He’d accepted almost immediately.
Little Nadia had been determined to take him home with them, so he walked you there with her tiny hand in his. Halfway, she had begun to tire and fuss, instinct had kicked in and he scooped her up in the same manner he would Judith. The child was asleep on his shoulder almost instantly.
He had zero intention of entering your home and was thankful the kid was out cold so that she couldn’t initiate the suggestion. He had passed her off to you and started to leave.
“Daryl.” You had called quietly. He still wasn’t sure why he had turned back to you so quickly. “That invitation is still open.” You smiled, he grunted. “Thanks for being so sweet with her. Goodnight.”
There had been a heavy feeling in his chest but he had nodded. “G’night.”
Now, you and little Nadia were almost a constant presence when he wasn’t beyond the wall. A presence that he found no longer really irritated him.
He would sit on the porch with the kid, working on his crossbow while Nadia colored or played with toys. He had to find her some of her own to have there because it seemed she and Judith were at odds about Daryl’s attention. He had made the mistake of lifting lil’ asskicker out of her playpen while Nadia was on his heels and the latter had begun to wail.
He had quickly passed Jude off to an equally concerned Michonne and scooped up the kid. “S’wrong? Hey.” Little arms wrapped around his neck and, though he didn’t see the angry pout directed at the other baby, Michonne did. He turned at her chuckle, eyes wide and confused.
Before she could explain, those little arms squeezed harder. “My Dorl.”
From that moment on, he saved time with Judith for emergencies (there were none) and for after Nadia had gone home with you.
“Don’t touch that, Dia.” Daryl huffed, catching her little hand reaching for the knife he had on the porch table. He had spent the morning skinning a few squirrels for Carol to use in a stew but was at that point, working on the tension on his bow.
And babysitting.
You had some inventory to do at the infirmary with Pete. The doctor gave him bad vibes so when you had asked, he’d accepted all too quickly. Even offered to tag along and keep an eye on the kid there. In the end, after you had politely declined, he had reasoned that you were a grown woman and could handle yourself.
“Babysitting, again, hmm?”
Daryl glanced up from his crossbow toward Carol on the top step, Nadia already beaming up at her from the hug around her waist. It lasted all of three seconds before the kid was back to her toys beside Daryl’s boot.
“Mhm.” Was the only answer he offered, one that was mimicked from the little person below him. He didn’t smile but Carol didn’t miss the way his eyes left the weapon to regard Nadia for a moment before returning to the task.
“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, plopping down onto the other chair. She grabbed a toy that had rolled away and handed it back to the child.
“Some inventory shit at the infirmary.” Daryl shrugged, rotating the bow to check his work. Carol made a noise that gave him pause, one he didn’t like. “What?”
“No one’s at the infirmary. I was just there for Mr. Henderson’s blood pressure medication.”
He could feel his heartrate picking up, a sense of foreboding so strong that he could barely think straight. “Pete weren’t there?”
Carol shook her head. “No one.” She sat up straight when Daryl stood, sheathing his knife and placing his crossbow on the railing. “Daryl?”
“Dia, I’m gonna be right back. You’re gonna stay with Carol for a few minutes. Tell me the rules.”
Nadia’s wide eyes narrowed into seriousness. “No bow. No move. Be good. No shit.” It took her a moment to babble through the small list but Daryl ruffled her hair with the smallest of half smiles.
“No shit, Daryl?”
He was already stepping off the porch. “Her mama hears ‘er sayin’ that an’ m’a dead man.”
Carol laughed and shook her head, turning her attention to the little human that was already working up to a cry as Daryl walked out of sight. “Do you like cookies, Nadia?”
He checked the infirmary first. He didn’t doubt Carol, but maybe she had missed a room or something. It was, as Carol had said, empty. “Fuck.” The next most logical place would be your home. He ran the entire way. He’d feel like an absolute fool if you were fine, but he’d cross that bridge later. The door was open, he could see that from the moment he rounded the curb. You had a habit of doing that and he hated it, but who was he to tell you what to do?
“Y/N?” He took your steps two at a time and stopped on the threshold. “Y/N? Are ya here?” No answer. He felt like shit the moment his boot touched the floor inside. He’d never taken you up on an invitation for the dinner you continuously offered him, much less any offer to simply come inside. Now here he was tearing room to room, in your safe space. There were covered pots on the stove and the oven was on, but where were you? “Y/N!” He placed a booted foot on the bottom stair before your voice stunned him frozen.
“Daryl?”
He nearly collapsed in relief.
“What’s wrong? Where’s Nadia? Daryl?”
“She’s fine. She’s with Carol.” He rasped, sheathing his knife when he saw you staring at it. Your hair was wet, your clothes damp. You must have been in the shower. “M’sorry. Carol said ya weren’t at the—just got worried. M’sorry.” His eyes had lowered to the stairs below you but then your bare feet were padding down them to stop directly in front of him. “I’ll, uh—lemme go get ‘er.” He had barely moved before your hand was on his shoulder. To his shock, he didn’t flinch; didn’t even have the urge.
“Are you okay?” You asked, ducking your head to seek out his gaze. He continued to expertly dodge.
“M’fine. Just—I’ll go get Dia.” He stepped away and out of the loose grip you had on him, immediately missing the warmth of your hand. What the hell was wrong with him?
“I was making us dinner.” The words rushed out of you, like you were trying to get them out before he could leave. Daryl looked over his shoulder from the doorway, an eyebrow arched. “Us. Me, Nadia, and—well, you.”
“Me? Why?” He hadn’t meant to sound so unkind, ungrateful, but that was just who he was down deep, wasn’t it? Still, you seemed unbothered, your nervousness born of something else entirely.
“Because Nadia likes you. I like you. We’d like to spend time with you that doesn’t involve me asking for favors or the entire community leering and making assumptions.”
He still hadn’t fully turned, but narrowed his eyes. “Think they ain’t gonna make assumptions when ya have me in your house?”
“Fair point.” You nodded, chuckling. “Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what they think but I worry that you do.” Head tilted, Daryl turned but remained in the doorway. “You seem so private, quiet. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth for a moment. “So, will you come? Please?”
As much as he tried, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of dishonesty or ill intent in you. It was certainly there, wasn’t it? No one outside of the group that had grown to like him over months of death and sorrow wanted anything to do with him. So, why you? Why Nadia? “Alright, I’ll go get ‘er an’ be back.” He turned and took a step before you called out again.
“Don’t worry about changing or anything. Just bring you, okay?”
He nodded around the very foreign flutter in his chest, clearing his throat and leaving the house before he could overthink things right there in front of you. He’d be able to do that in abundance on the way to grab the kid.
To say he was confused was the largest of understatements. You were a beautiful woman. Where was Nadia’s father? In that world, the absence usually meant he was either dead or had willingly left, which he couldn’t fathom either. Was the kid the reason all the single men weren’t knocking down your door? That couldn’t be it. Nadia was amazing, all bright smiles and such an innocence that was refreshing in a world as dark it was.
Even if you did have suitors, why were you taking the time to get to know him? He was damn sure nothing special and had nothing to offer you. Daryl growled at himself. He was jumping the gun. You hadn’t expressed any real interest in him. You wanted to have dinner. Aaron and Eric had him over for dinner all the time. It was what friends did. He was your friend after all. He had to be for you to trust him with Nadia. He snorted. Maybe that was all the brat’s doing and you were just along for the ride.
His shoulders were slumped, feet dragging by the time he made it back to his house, already opening his arms in expectation of the bundle of Nadia that would be leaping into them any moment.
“Dorl!”
“She was about to strap on your crossbow and come find you herself.” Carol teased from the doorway.
“I was barely gone twenty minutes, kid.” He nodded to Carol and turned back to take Nadia home. “Your mama’s at home makin’ something for supper. Ya hungry?”
“Mmmmhmmmm!” Little legs were swinging while bright eyes watched the street in front of them, her arms loosely around his neck, trusting him to not let her fall. And he would never. Daryl craned his head to look at her, all dark hair and big blue eyes. She could pass as his own kid to anyone who didn’t know better.
Whoa. That train of that was roughly derailed.
Easily done when the top of her head leaned against his temple and she began to hum some tune he didn’t know. It calmed his anxiety enough to not eat him from the inside out before he made it back to your house. Nadia was wiggling to be lowered before he could even get her to the steps. Much to her annoyance (if her little growl and pout were anything to go by), he didn’t place her on her feet until they were on the porch.
The door was still open and, man, he really wanted you to stop doing that.
“Mama!” Nadia squealed, running right into your arms.
“Hi, baby! Did you have fun with Daryl today?” You hefted her onto your hip, your face turned toward hers even though your smile was aimed at the archer.
“We always have fun.” He was close enough to ruffle the kid’s hair without invading your space.
“No shit!” Nadia proclaimed with her arms in the air. You were smiling but your eyebrows shot up toward your hairline. Daryl cleared his throat.
“M’a tell Carol to watch ‘er mouth.”
“Carol. Right.” You chuckled. You started to reach for his arm but must have thought better of it and motioned toward the dining room instead. He found he was disappointed. “Go ahead and sit down wherever. There’s some wine and water already there.”
Daryl liked wine. He’d partake when at Aaron and Eric’s for dinner but here? He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. The table could seat six but there were three places set, the middle chair holding a booster seat. He didn’t sit, wouldn’t until you did. Instead he noticed how close the glasses of wine were sitting to Nadia’s place and took the liberty of moving each of them to the other side. Not that the kid would bother them but it just felt—right?
“Alright, kiddo. You get to eat first.” You weren’t carrying Nadia anymore but she was right behind you, looking up at the bowl of pasta like a pup that was about to get its kibble. Daryl was already lifting the kid into her seat when you turned from placing the bowl on the table. “Thank you.” You did touch his arm then. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be right back.”
Nadia had apparently chosen his spot for him, patting the back of the chair to her left. Chewing on the side of his thumb, he glanced toward the kitchen. Wasn’t he supposed to pull your chair out for you or something? Aaron had.
“No, no, Dorl.” Nadia pulled at his elbow, earning a halfhearted scowl before he realized she was trying to get him to stop the anxious habit.
“Sorry.” He mumbled, not sure why he was apologizing when she just went back to dancing and eating once he had dropped his hand. He watched her for a moment, just being a kid, innocent and oblivious to the dangers and heartache that lay in wait just outside of Alexandria’s protective walls. She and you—just two more people for him to mourn in the end. What was he doing there? He had no business being in your lives. If he didn’t lose the two of you, then you would lose him. It was inevitable. It was fate. It was the way the world worked now, tirelessly snuffing out any semblance of light that could give someone like him hope.
And goddamnit, he’d be devastated. He adored your kid and though he couldn’t quite decipher what it was that he felt for you, he knew that if anything happened to you, he’d shatter.
“Daryl?”
“What?” He snapped out of reflex, not fully out of his head before he had realized you were speaking. You flinched, the pasta in the two bowls you were holding bounced but didn’t spill. “M’sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” The bowls were placed on the table and a basket of fresh bread that he hadn’t noticed you had already brought out. How long had he been standing there?
“Yeah, uh—yeah, m’fine.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very trapped in the small room. It wasn’t really that small, was it? “M’just—” He didn’t finish before he all but ran to the door, closing it behind him like he really wished you would start doing. He had a cigarette lit within seconds, trembling fingers bringing it to his lips for a long drag.
Pale light from inside cascaded around him as the door opened. You didn’t move any closer, obviously staying near Nadia while the little girl ate. “You okay?”
“Mhm.” Lie.
“Come back inside?” You requested after glancing toward Nadia, finding her eating her pasta elegantly with her fingers. Daryl said nothing, wasn’t even sure he could, but he flicked his cigarette toward the sidewalk and stood, walking past you with but a beat of hesitance.
Despite Nadia’s excitement at his return, he remained quiet, but offered the kid a ghost of a smile when she offered a bite of her own food. Disgruntled at his refusal, she wore her own version of a scowl and continued to eat. You had taken your seat, giving the bread basket a tiny shove toward the archer.
“Thanks.” He mumbled. He wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. Staring at his food, he questioned whether the way he usually ate might disgust you. It was never something he actively thought about. He grew up in a home where he snatched what he could get and ate it quickly before someone could take it or reprimand him for it. It was nearly the same now that the world had ended. Thankful for any scrap of food, but quick to make sure it was gone before someone came ready to fight for it.
“If you think any louder, I might be able to hear it.”
Daryl glanced up, unable to meet your eyes. You were swirling the wine around in the glass with your gaze settled on him. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s just dinner, Daryl.”
With a barely there nod, he picked up his fork and began to eat, slowly and carefully, not noticing the way you watched him with a quizzical expression.
Nadia was having a hard time keeping her head up by the time dinner was finished, her little eyes closing before snapping open with a jerk of her head.
“Time for bed.” You announced, attempting to wipe her face around languid movements of annoyance. “Come on, baby.” Lifting her from the chair, you tilted your head when she leaned her upper body back toward Daryl, reaching out with lazy, grabby hands.
“Dorl night night.”
Halfway out of his seat, he froze. “Think ya should, uh—your mama should handle this’un, Dia.” She didn’t seem to have it in her to argue, flopping onto your shoulder. You managed to hold up a finger, asking him to wait while you put Nadia to bed. He did, but busied himself gathering the dishes, taking them to the sink, and rinsing them out as Carol had trained him to do. “Wow, my very own human dishwasher. Can I keep you?”
Daryl felt the heat rise in his face, traveling down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears. “Stop.” God, you were just as bad as Carol.
“Daryl.”
Oh, boy. Your tone had gone from playful to serious in two seconds flat. His stomach was in knots but he dared not turn around and rinsed the same bowl at least three times. “Hmm?”
“I’d like to see, uh—I’d like it if you'd come around more often. Tonight was—it was nice.”
And there it was. The one thing that had caused him so much inner turmoil now confirmed. You were interested and, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. When he finally managed to get his tongue to work, the words that spilled out were nothing like the ones running through his head and he regretted them immediately. “Where’s Dia’s daddy?” Christ, Dixon. “M’sorry.” He tried to backpedal, finally turning toward you and leaning back against the sink with a white-knuckled grip against the edge of the countertop. “Ain’t my business.”
“Gone. I don’t really give a fuck where.” You shrugged, so nonchalantly that he had to look at you. “He didn’t want her. Nearly got himself killed finding pills for me to take. I refused, he left. But I have her and I hope he’s a walker.” Your gaze was fond but serious, and he found not a single trace of annoyance or anger. “She’s never really liked men. Even Aaron and Eric had to coax her inside for dinner with a stale candybar.” You laughed at the memory, and Daryl realized he could listen to that sound for the rest of his life. “But then you. She wasn’t afraid, not for a single second.”
“It was the ‘possum.” He shrugged, shyly ducking his head for only a moment but looking back up through his fringe when you laughed again.
“Okay, we can go with that.” You lifted yourself up onto the island, kicking your legs, reminding him of Nadia. “Doesn’t really explain why she stuck to you like glue every moment since then, though. Dorl this and Dorl that. I’m not complaining. You’re good for her.” Daryl scoffed, ducking his head once more. “You are, Daryl. And I think she might be good for you too.”
“She’s a kid. Don’t know no better.” He shrugged, the urge to run becoming more and more prevalent. He didn’t belong there. It wasn’t his family. Nadia wasn’t his kid and you weren’t his. God, he wished you were.
You hummed, holding back something. “I had fun tonight, but when you come back, don't worry so much about what I think, okay?” The way he tried to eat more slowly?
“Yeah, okay. Was nice. Thanks, uh—thanks for havin’ me.” The archer made the choice to pass you and head for the door. Your bare feet hit the floor just behind him. “I’ll see ya ‘round. Lemme know if ya need someone to watch Dia.” Why the hell did he offer that?
“I will. Thank you.” The smile you gave him was almost sad. Maybe disappointed? “Goodnight, Daryl.”
“Yeah. Night.” He crossed the threshold but turned back, keeping his head low. “Keep your door shut.” There was no time for you to answer before he was jogging down your steps, barely slowing his stride all the way home. All the lights were off when he arrived and he couldn’t be more grateful to slip in and down to his room to berate himself properly until he was finally able to fall asleep.
Logically, he should have avoided you since that night, but Daryl never claimed to be the brightest crayon in the box. He absolutely did not look for reasons to go to your house, satisfied to find the door closed each and every time. If he saw you carrying something, he’d jog over to take it from you, no matter how big or small. He responded by meeting Nadia in the middle each time she called for him, even if he was covered in dark blood and brain matter.
“Dorl smell ick.” She would say.
He was down bad and though he would deny it until his last breath with the age old line of we’re just friends, Carol was smarter than that.
“Daryl, you and I are friends. You’re sweet on that girl and you can fight me if you try to claim any different.” She stirred at the brownie batter, intermittently swatting away his hand when he tried to sneak a taste. “You should just tell her how you feel.”
“Stop actin’ like ya know ev’rythin’.” He snapped with no real heat.
“Okay, fine. I know nothing.” She stated coolly, spreading the mixture into a baking pan. “Except that Spencer has been spending an awful lot of time around her and Nadia.”
Well, that had his attention. “What? When?” He hopped off the countertop and was quickly standing just beside Carol, moving accordingly so that she could continue her baking.
“Usually when you’re out. I think you intimidate him.”
“Damn well better intimidate him.”
“Why? You’re ‘just friends,’ remember?” Daryl curled his lip at her air quotes, turning on a heel to head toward the door.
“Shuddup.”
He hadn’t been focused, lingering on what Carol had told him that morning. Worrying that Spencer was putting the moves on you that very moment he wasn’t there to do anything about it. What if he’d missed his chance? He growled, trying to take more of his own weight off of Aaron but his leg burned and ached.
“Ain’t that bad.” He tried to brush it off, but it was, in fact, that bad. He hadn’t seen the damn trap, the walker backing him right onto it. He was lucky the dead bastard didn’t take a chunk of him when he went down, but Aaron was quick. Had Daryl been alone, he’d likely be snarling and growling on the ground with his calf still locked within that metal.
“Keep telling yourself that and maybe your stubbornness will keep you on your feet until we can make it back.” The other man huffed. “First Eric, now you. I swear, I’m cursed.” Daryl groaned but couldn’t disagree.
Christ. The archer’s head was fucked. He couldn’t focus with images of you running rampant at the forefront of his mind. The way you would smile when you saw him; how you’d laugh when he’d huff at Dia for calling him Dorl; you’d have him for dinner a few times a week and it was less and less awkward.
He was so fucked.
“Open the gate!” Aaron called urgently. Daryl hadn’t even been paying attention but maybe zoning out was what brought him that far with such an injury. The toe of his boot was dragging, his leg both numb and throbbing in a way he couldn’t seem to understand was even possible. Sasha was yelling, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He was too busy trying to look over his shoulder at the steady crimson trail that followed them. Would walkers follow it right to the gates? “Jesus, okay. I’m going to get help to carry you to the infirmary.”
“Fuck Pete. Gimme Y/N or just take me home.” Daryl slurred, his head falling back against the metal just inside the gates. He was fading, tired and smothered by a dark cloud that was creeping into the edges of his vision and mind. He knew he wouldn’t die from this, but damn, did it still suck.
“Dorl! Mama, Dorl boo-boo!”
Tiny, warm hands were on his face. He was cold, didn’t even realize it. Big blue eyes were hovering right in front of his face, a little mouth between chubby cheeks speaking with an urgency that made him want to scoop her up and soothe the worry. “Dia.” He breathed, his mind finally catching up, though he wasn’t sure for how long.
“Nada kiss boo-boo.”
Daryl chuckled breathlessly but pulled the little girl against his chest. “Nah, baby girl, don’t kiss that boo-boo. S’gross.” Big crocodile tears were forming and falling, and his heart ached. His little girl was never supposed to cry, never supposed to even be sad. “M’okay. Your mama’s gonna make it all better, you’ll see.”
“Mama, Dorl got big boo-boo.”
“I see that, baby. Can you move so mommy can take a look?” You were there, your voice a balm to the pain that was slowly fading.
“She’s alright.” Daryl shifted Nadia to his side, letting her hold on with her head on his filthy chest. You’d have to give her a bath later and somehow, he had the energy to feel bad about that.
“Jesus, Daryl, what did you do?” You were cutting the lower part of his pant leg, right there on the street, but he didn’t have it in him to see who might be watching. He muttered bear trap but didn’t really recall it being his voice. Was it even him?
The child holding to him made a noise when the wound was revealed, jagged punctures that still steadily bled and she shouldn’t be seeing that. Why wasn’t someone taking her away? “Ssh. S’okay, Dia. Just look at me—can ya hum that song ya always do when we take ya home?” A tiny sniffle but then a little tune in his ear.
“What happened? He okay?” Rick.
“Daryl!” Ah, Carol. Good.
“Hey, take her, would ya? Don’t need to be here.” He was gentle if not weak when he tried to hand off Nadia, kissing one of her little hands when he finally peeled them away from his neck. “M’a be okay, Dia.” She cried. Even as Carol promised her cookies and brownies, she cried and his heart ached more than his leg. He barely caught the word disinfect before the hellfire in his leg struck him like a hammer to the head and he knew no more.
“S’not that big’a deal. I can take care’a myself at home.” Daryl grimaced and watched you moving things around in your living room. You disappeared and returned several moments later with pillows and blankets.
“I know you can, but I also know you’re stubborn as a mule and you’ll try to go out of those gates behind Aaron within a day.” He barely opened his mouth before you held up an authoritative finger. “Don’t lie to me, Daryl Dixon. And don’t pretend I don’t know at least a little by now.”
“Dorl!”
Before he could process her voice, the archer had a lapful of toddler. It was hazy but he could remember how he felt at the gate, the protective instinct, the absolute knowledge that Nadia was his no matter how untrue it was. He couldn’t seem to shake it.
“Hey, Dia.”
“Be careful of his boo-boo, sweetie.” You admonished in the most gentle tone while propping Daryl’s leg up on a pillow. “He’s going to stay with us for a few days so I can keep an eye on him.”
“Why?” Came the innocent reply.
“Because Daryl is naughty and doesn’t like to listen when he’s told he can’t do something. Like you with Miss Carol’s cookies.”
Nadia gasped dramatically and turned those big blues to Daryl. “Dorl takes cookies.”
Glancing at you, expression bland, he nodded. “Yeah, I take the cookies.”
“So he has to stay right here on this couch unless mommy is helping him, okay? Can you be my junior nurse and make sure he stays put?”
“That ain’t fair.” Daryl objected with an indignant pout.
“Why? Because you know it’ll work?”
Daryl grunted and crossed his arms. He was in for a long few days.
A week later, the stitches were out but there was residual swelling that was hindering healing. Nothing to worry about, you had told him.
“Why ain’t Ken wearin’ no clothes?” Daryl was concerned to be ‘playing Barbies’ when Barbie wore a bathing suit and Ken was naked as the day he was—assembled? So far he’d been able to avoid dialogue and just bounce the doll around with facial expressions that kept the toddler occupied. “Seems a lil’ fucked up.”
“You try finding doll clothes nowadays.” There was laughter in your voice and tenderness in your touch while you cleaned the wound and changed the dressings. Only a couple more days of that.
“Maybe I will.” The archer mused, standing the doll on top of Nadia’s head, keeping it there with his finger on the top. Her little arms could only reach the legs, facing reddening and scrunching with giggles.
“Time to pick up your toys. Daryl needs to rest and you, missy, need to get to bed.”
“Noooooo.”
“Don’t sass your mama.” Daryl dropped the doll in favor of patting the kid on the head. “G’on now.” The archer dropped an arm outward, fully expecting the hug that was incoming. “Night, kid.”
“Nigh’ night’, dada.”
It was at that moment Daryl Dixon completely forgot how to breathe. His eyes were already on yours before the kid decided to drop that bomb and skip away to brush her teeth like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down.
“M’sorry. M’so sorry. I don’t—she didn’t—”
“I’m just—” you interrupted, backing toward the doorway, “I need to put her to bed.” You stumbled out of the room as if he were chasing you.
He wasn’t sure he could move if he tried. His heart was in his nose, his stomach in his ass, and his lungs were plaited around his spine. Why would the kid call him dada? It made no sense. A couple of months wasn’t long enough for anything like that. Right? Fuck, he needed to talk to Carol. His brain was malfunctioning. He couldn’t process this.
Throwing off the blankets, Daryl sat up, levering to his feet. He still had a limp but it was easier now. Shuffling to the exit, he stopped, staring at the handle of the closed door. You’d been doing that now, hadn’t you? He said something once and you had listened.
“So you’re just gonna run away after that, is that it?”
The archer spun so fast that he lost his balance, righting himself with a hand on the wall. “It ain’t—I was—just needed to talk to Carol.” He admitted. His shirt was damp and he was certain he would vomit.
“She didn’t mean anything by it, Daryl. I’ll talk to her.” You were wringing your hands, your chin wobbling.
Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. He had the sudden desire to hug you but didn’t dare move. Aside from casual touches, bumping shoulders in jest, and of course the occasional wound treatment, the two of you had never physically interacted. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Wow, had he thought about it. “I know she didn’t mean nothin’.” Ouch. Somehow that revelation was worse.
“She loves you, Daryl. I’ll talk to her, I promise. Please don’t walk out on her. On—on me.”
He likely looked like an idiot hobbling half the distance to where you stood. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” When you nodded and dropped your head, he dared another unsteady step. “M’a stay as long as ya want me here. You an’ Dia.” With one hand, he touched your shoulder and left the decision up to you. You needed no further prompting to step into his arms. For a moment, nothing else mattered. But then you were stepping back.
“Okay.” You nodded, turning your head to wipe away a tear you thought he didn’t already notice. “I like having you here.” He returned the nod silently.
Nothing else was said. Daryl went back to the couch, you went to get ready for bed. The night went on with both you and Daryl feeling more alone than ever.
“She really called you dada?” Carol asked in an excited whisper, the wide grin on her face in direct contrast to Daryl’s frown. “That’s a good thing, right?”
“No!” He shot back immediately, looking over his shoulder at the little girl playing on the living room floor. They had somehow even managed to get her to sit next to Judith’s playpen, so long as Daryl didn’t touch Lil’ Asskicker, peace remained. “I mean, yeah. Fuck, I dunno what I mean, Carol.”
“Daryl.” The seriousness in her tone brought his gaze to hers, flinching when he found her leaning on her elbows much closer than she had been just a moment ago. “I’m gonna ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly.”
“Ain’t never lied to ya.”
“Okay.” Her eyes, just as blue as his own, narrowed. “Do you love that little girl?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” It was true. It was so different from how he loved Judith but yet completely the same. He would give anything for her to have been his, to have been there while you carried her. He wanted to spit on the man that tried to force you to end it. He couldn’t imagine a world without you and little Nadia anymore. It was as if the two of you were the missing pieces that could give him a chance to be whole.
“And Y/N?”
“What?”
“Do you love Y/N?” Carol leaned back a little, her gaze no less intense.
“S’a lil’ more—I, uh—”
“I said STOP!”
Daryl was on his feet instantly at the sound of your voice, running outside. His limp was less profound and didn’t hinder him from descending the steps to see you across the street with your arm in Spencer’s grasp. You were likely on your way to collect Nadia.
“Come on, Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I’ve seen the way you look at me.” Spencer pulled you toward him.
“You’re delusional!”
“Stop being such a prude. You’ve got a kid. You think you got any other options out there?”
“Yeah! She does!” Daryl’s fist had already connected before the other man had even realized he was approaching. The archer stepped in front of you and stayed there, coiled to attack but holding steady until he was given a reason.
“You?” Spencer spat, literally, a glob of blood and saliva landing next to Daryl’s boot. “The dirty redneck everyone’s afraid of? That’s laughable.”
Daryl started to move until he felt the smallest tug on his jeans. Nadia was looking up at him, equal parts curious and afraid.
“Dada mad?”
Your arms encircled his stomach with whispers of he’s not worth it repeated over his shoulder. “Get the fuck outta here an’ don’t come near my girls again.” The archer waited, arching a brow when Spencer hesitated.
“You heard him.” Rick stepped up to Daryl’s left, Michonne and Carol on this right. “Best be going now.” Spitting again, the man curled his lip and scrambled to his feet, stomping off toward his mother’s home. “Well, that’s gonna be a problem.”
“I’ll go talk to Deanna.” Maggie offered, nodding at Rick but stopping to squeeze Daryl’s arm on her way by. What the fuck? Had everyone noticed?
“We should make ourselves scarce.” Michonne suggested with a knowing grin.
Once they were all out of sight, Daryl deflated, one hand falling to the top of Nadia’s head. “Ain’t angry, Dia.” She sniffled and seemed to only hug his leg tighter. When it was clear he couldn’t turn with the added weight to his injured leg, you stepped around in front of him.
“Your girls?” You asked, expression so terrifyingly unreadable.
“I just—he needed to leave an’ I didn’t want him to think he could come back ‘round.” His bottom lip was instantly being gnawed between his teeth. “Needed to make sure ya were okay.”
“So, we’re not your girls?” There was definitely disappointment there. You were wringing your hands again before reaching toward Nadia.
“I mean, if ya—yeah.” Daryl swallowed hard. “Yeah, you’re my girls. Have been for a while. M’just a idiot an’ I was—I’m scared. Don’t wanna be like my old man.”
You hummed, stepping into him to brush back the fringe across his eyes. “You haven’t told me anything about your parents, but I’m willing to listen. I wanna know everything about you.”
“Me too—’bout you, I mean. ‘Bout Dia.” He was reaching for your face, leaning in just as you did. His lips barely brushed yours before there came another tug at his jeans again.
“Home, dada.”
You laughed while Daryl just looked stricken and confused. “You heard her, Daryl. Let’s go home and figure this out.”
One Year Later
“Daddy! Lookit picture!!”
Daryl looked up from the mess of rabbits he was skinning on the porch, blowing upward to move some of the hair from his eyes. The almost four year old was sprinting down the street from the Grimes’ house, a piece of paper waving in her grip above her head. He waved to Michonne who had been watching Nadia make it back safely. “Whatcha got there, Dia?” She was grinning from ear to ear when she presented it to him, holding it out in front of her because ew no when he reached for it with bloody fingers.
There were three stick figures. One was obviously him if the crazy hair and scribbled attempt at a crossbow were anything to go by. A small figure was at his side, dark hair and a big smile: Nadia. And then there was you. Daryl snorted. You were a stick figure with a circle drawn around the middle.
“Your mama’s gonna ‘preciate that, kid.”
“Appreciate what?” You stepped out with two glasses of water, placing them on the table and resting your hand on your swollen belly. Nadia proudly displayed the drawing and received a big smile and mhm, so pretty from you while Daryl snickered into his shoulder. “Go put it on the fridge, baby, and wash your hands. Supper’s nearly ready.”
“Okay, mama!” And off she went in a blur.
“Not funny, Dixon.” You dug your bare toes into his lower back until he yelped.
“S’a little funny.” He wiped his knife across his jeans.
“About as funny as you cleaning these rabbits on my front porch.” He ducked his head sheepishly when he turned to watch you lower into your chair.
“I’ll clean it up, Sunshine. Don’t get all uppity ‘bout it.” Rising from his perch, he gathered the meat onto a parchment you had given him and wrapped it, leaving the bones and fur to handle later. “Dia! C’mere!” Moving at inhuman speed, she was looking up at him from the doorway the next second. Daryl jerked his chin toward a bag on the table beside his water glass. “Broughtcha somethin’ back.”
You leaned forward with curiosity and watched your daughter pull out the contents of the bag, barely catching a glimpse of the different colors before Nadia hugged Daryl’s leg and disappeared back inside with squeals of delight echoing in her wake.
“What did you bring her?”
Daryl smirked. “Told ya I’d find clothes for them dolls.”
#murda writes#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#step dad!daryl#dad!daryl#daryl x female reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon the walking dead#daryl dixon twd#Spotify
816 notes
·
View notes
Text
Darkest Confession = Requested
[Human!Alastor x Serial Killer Enthusiast!Reader]
Everyone have that one thing that really really sets them apart from the group, right? Some can be way too addicted with coffee that they don’t sleep much cause of it, or some can be so obsessed with ducks that they have a whole collection of it (ahem Lucifer ahem anyways…). Either way, usually it’s harmless
No, not you
You were no police officer or detective, or any career related to crime. You were someone simple working from place to place, always moving. Yet you found yourself engrossed with the art of killing. No, you don’t kill yourself. But you love to read about the people that do, specifically, serial killers
To just have the urge to kill and do it then deal with the consequences. It was like the most extreme of goal making. The thing with serial killers is that they mostly pick random people off the streets and kill for whatever reason they have. One can’t link the killings back to the killer because there was none! Oh, how you eat those stories up like a bedtime story
You somewhat study serial killers and their killings, feeling drawn to them enough that you’d move from place to place. It was your drive and your calling. One you keep quite deep down, you’d let this side of you out from time to time, but you had to control it since some might think you deserve the straight jacket or put in a hospital, or just label you as mental
Close friends and your family knew this side of you and said one day you’d be in deep waters for this interest of yours. They had advised you to stop and just push it away, find something else to think. Maybe a romantic partner that you can settle down with?
Hell no! (like Charlie to Val)
You follow serial killer stories from place to place. As sad that it was to know it after the killings were brought to light because of the slow news outlet, you take what you can. You’d mostly maybe catch a glimpse of the killer, behind bars or during trials
There was a few close calls. You recall yourself impersonating a reporter to interview the killer and your interest in them got them to talk, but you had to left before someone caught on you weren’t a reporter. Another time, a writer hired a helper to talk with a killer on trial, you wrote so much notes that the writer wanted you long term
Still no, you left to follow more serial killers when you could
You heard of a serial killer at large. In New Orleans, City in Louisiana. You heard it over the radio from a rising host that took over the hearts of the people, even outside of his hometown. He detailed the killings, even claiming to have seen a few of the bodies alongside the police so he could offer a clearer picture to the listeners of the horrors the killer can do and wasn’t afraid to show off
A serial killer still free and in society. While the other listeners in the cafe shivered and whispers to each other to be cautious or relief that the killer wasn’t in their town or city, you were planning your next travel
Next stop the New Orleans, hunting ground of the Bayou Serial Killer
Settling down was easy since you had been so custom to it. Like always, you wandered a bit, get the feel of the place and its people, the vibe of the city so you can fit in. Then you visited the place where the bodies were found, information provided by the local newspaper and the radio talkshows
You didn’t know then. That someone was following you after a few of your visits to the body dumping grounds. You certainly didn’t know that chance encounter with the radio host was staged
“I’d like coffee, black!” You heard the familiar voice ring. You didn’t have to look up to know the customers and staff members of the cafe all drawn to the man that ordered at the counter. You rolled your eyes. It was the famous radio host, Alastor, he started frequenting this cafe only recently (when you showed up in town) and would take his morning coffee here before he goes live
If only he was a serial killer or someone close to one… You remember the first time seeing him when he entered the cafe. You wanted to approach him, but he was always eyed by the people that put him on a pestasole. You learned to stay clear of people like that because, there were always some fans crazier than the other. Take yourself as an example, with your obsession and addiction to killers
“May I join you, my dear fellow?” Your eyes quickly scanned the place. Why was it so full today? You didn’t say anything and just gestured to the empty seat opposite to you in your booth. Great, now you had to go to work early because you wanted to avoid him. Wait
“Are you writing your script now?” You blinked at the notepad Alastor started to scribble over, you couldn’t just start by asking ‘are you writing your script on the serial killer? Can I see, please?’. Your keen eyes caught the words ‘serial killer’ and ‘bodies’
Alastor chuckled and said he was merely reorganizing his thoughts so he could envision his radio host as smoothly as possible for the listeners. You blink ‘for the listeners’, again with that. But does he really put others first behind himself? Somehow you didn’t think so
Of course his notes got you to put your attention on him. Alastor had to internally grin. He noticed a new face in town after some time. Then he noticed you going to his dumping grounds. He had thought you were a new detective or police to hunt him down by looking over new evidence. He thought he was right when he saw you noting down the surroundings even with the absence of the body
You were followed carefully to check if you had family and/or friends that would make a fuss of your disappearance. When you had none, he thought you were an easy target. But you weren’t a detective nor a police. Imagine his surprise when he only found you returning home. Never once had you went to the police with that notepad of yours
Odd
So he followed some more. It then that he noticed you had a spark in your eyes whenever serial killers or their killings were mentioned. While other would shiver with the sight of fear in their eyes, you had interest and excitement. So odd, but he didn’t dislike it. It fueled his interest in you
He tried striking conversations with you, but you were so plain and common, one he can brush off as a local polite individual. You fitted in with the commonality that quickly and easily. Though his concern was your disinterest and ignorance to him, he once let his assistant to play a pre-recorded show to see your reactions to his killings reported
There it was. You and that spark of yours with that notepad and pen, writing so furiously like you were possessed. You were more expressive and childish even, swaying from side to side, tapping your feet, drumming your fingers. It was like he witnessed your true self. He confirmed it when the topic changed and like a switch, you were that mundane self of yours
It was all so fasincinating to him and he had to talk to the real you. So he staged this meeting. He was right on the money, you would start off with someone common, then poke at your interest, wanting him to start the topic so you’d be involved. Slowly and with time though, you’d just talk outright with him
It was routine for him, meeting you before his show at that cafe and in their secluded booth you basically marked your own when it was in the morning. He’s review his notes with you and then talk about the (his) killings with you, the newest discoveries, the clues that detectives and polices missed, all that juicy details you’d like
Another problem came. You saw him as a friend. He saw you as a romantic interest
To you, it was rare that you could connect this much with someone. No one back home, not even your closest family members and frends, would indulge with you in this interest of yours. No matter how much you spoke your thoughts on serial killers and their killings, Alastor didn’t push you away and even ask questions on your thoughts. You cared so much for him, as a friend, but he wasn’t your interest
To him, you were now one of his reason to kill more. That bloodlust was on par with the spark you’d have in your eyes when he struck again. Some poor victim died and you only focused on him, the killer! He once compared you to his friend Mimzy, she knew and helped his killings, but she didn’t give him the same joy and bubbly emotions he’d have when talking to you about his kills. It wasn’t the same. So were you the one? The one to his cold dark heart.
And he confessed. More than just his feelings
“My dearest darling, I would be so honoured if you’d agree to allow me the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to officially court you.”
“No.” There was no hesitation in your voice, nor was there a pause. “Sorry, Alastor, I just considered myself married to serial killers. Or at least, this one in your town. I love them no matter what. So I can’t accept your feelings. But I hope we can continue being fr—”
Alastor held onto you, it was just a stroke of luck that this place was the secluded forest he was familiar with. He kneeled down on one knee and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring straight at you with that crazed look in his eyes and that murderous grin he only let his victims see, “Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Alastor, the Bayou Serial Killer.”
Note: I had SO MUCH FUN writing for this. Thank you for suggesting this, Any~ (I’ll just call all the anonymous asks this from now on). I would tag the person but this is anonymous request (╯︿╰)
Requests are open, but keep in mind of what I wrote in the Masterlist. I’ll ultimately decide whether or not to write for them. Thanks!
Circe Y.
MASTERLIST
#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor#hazbin hotel oneshots#human alastor#Circe's Nighty Writings#Circe's requested writings#Darkest Confession
440 notes
·
View notes
Text
off the ice
PAIRING ➩ sunghoon x reader
SUMMARY ➩ dubbed ‘ice princess’ at an early age for you ice skating skills, you face the biggest challenge of your career when you’re paired with your rival for a competition dance.
GENRE ➩ rivals to lovers enemies to lovers
WARNINGS ➩ suggestive content, abusive figures and strict career lifestyle mentions.
WC ➩ 17.1k
DISCLAIMER : im not citing this as sunghoons personal experience with training or his career and im not making light of the abuse that goes on in the ice skating field and the strict dieting and lifestyle. also side note i literally don’t know a single technical term for skating tricks or competitions so this is my limited descriptive talented and googled information lol (not proofread)
The human body was something you’d never quite been able to grasp completely. It’s rules for right and wrong, it’s reactions to certain stimuli. The way it can bend and twist but not break yet one small accident can ruin it forever.
There was nothing you dreaded more than having that type of accident. It plagued your mind from early morning to late night, what ways you could avoid getting hurt.
Ironic considering your lifestyle choices seemed to bring nothing but hurt, only in the shape of bruised limbs and sore muscles.
Since you were 4 years old, your entire existence had been devoted to one thing. One single thing in your frame of sight, one thing that would determine your future and if you succeeded as a prodigy or failed as an old hobbyist.
On your fourth Christmas your mother had gifted you a small box that was wrapped tightly with a pretty purple bow. At that age you were, of course, more interested in the packaging itself than the contents inside it.
Little did you know, your whole entire growing life form was sitting inside the small box and you were en route to become a prodigy in the making.
For the next 15 years you spent everyday on the ice. Obviously retiring the tiny pair of skates that was hidden behind the old purple bow, you’d gone through dozens of pairs are you grew and the stitching began to fade and tear.
Throughout your school years, you lost yourself in a daze of studying followed by practice followed by studying followed by more practice. You, impressively, managed to keep a small hand full of friends despite the constant look of disappointment you’d face after canceling hangouts.
Then you were graduating, and with a big smile on your face, flowers in hand, you prepared to take a deep breath in and start your life with a blank state. The way you wanted it to be.
You scowled at the memory now as your hands smacked against the cold ice, shavings from the skid of your blade sneaking their way under your gloves and sleeves. Your deep breath of relief had been cut short by the icy chill and reminder that what you had been training for, didn’t end at adulthood.
“That’s the third time you’ve missed that.” Your coach was declaring from off on the side of the rink, ringing her hands together and peering down at you.
You didn’t mind Coach Suzy, if anything she was miles better than dealing with your mothers remarks and insults, but her need to point out the obvious wasn’t your favorite quirk of hers.
Pushing off from the ice back onto your skates, you held your scowl and did a loop around the rink to get back into the motion of it. Three tries without success was, in your standards at least, a complete failure. Your mother would be having a complete public fit if she had found the time to come today.
You simply haven’t, and did not, lose and you weren’t planning on making a late habit of it. Throughout your career you were quickly dubbed a skater to be on the lookouts for, a growing prodigy with a burning passion and a unique sense of style, the Princess of the Ice.
So to be stood here with ice under your nails like a complete amateur, was unacceptable. You furrowed your brows and prepared to send off again, picking up speed and hopefully enough momentum to complete the one jump you’d never had luck with.
Your coach’s whistle stopped you in your tracks and you turned your skate against the ice, stopping abruptly and glaring towards her in confusion. Upon the sight of her, and her newfound companion, your shoulders were deflating with annoyance and exhaustion.
Stood on her side, leaning against the railing and watching you with a half smirk and a skate digging into the ice below him, was none other than Park Sunghoon.
Park Sunghoon had begun his training around the same time as you and you two had immediately been put into comparison, despite the difference in genders never actually leading you to competing. Although, you didn’t need to be in front of judges to compete with each other.
He oozed natural talent and charisma, his body light in the air and swift on the ice. He was quickly named the best skater in your area and he’d yet to lose the title, with you always following a close second. The Ice Prince was spreading throughout the whispers of judges and growing fandoms and to make matters worse for you, he was completely humble.
“Making slushees princess?” His low mocking voice floating across the ice towards you reminded you immediately that humble, did not mean he was kind.
Quite the opposite actually. You and Sunghoon had both fully taken on the position of rivals in training and performance, paying more attention to each others marks than the ones of the girls you actually were being ranked against.
So despite your mutual popularity and matching affectionate nicknames given by the public, you’d yet to do any sort of collaborative stage or paired competition. Until this years national competition.
You came to a slow skate as you approached the two of them, doing a small spin before clumsily falling back against the railing and taking a deep breath. Your coach smiled over at you and your antics before putting on her serious face.
“It’s only three months before the competition guys and I know it’s not what either of you wanted and it’s a short timeframe but I need practice to start within the week.”
The practice and competition she was referring to was the fact your worst nightmare had come true last month when another soloist from your district was chosen to represent at this years comp. You had no idea why she was picked over you considering you routinely ranked higher than her but what’s done is done.
You had come to terms with the fact you wouldn’t be competing for the first time in your life, almost feeling a strange sense of relief at the thought, when Coach Suzy dropped the bomb on you that you were instead selected for the pair dance.
You weren’t completely unfamiliar with skating with a partner, doing some casual dances in low scale showcases and once or twice in an actually competition, but you had a bad gut feeling about who your partner would be judging by her hesitance.
And looking back over to his smirking face now, that same nasty gut feeling was sinking back in.
It wasn’t the actual performance you were necessarily worried about, Sunghoon was no doubt talented and he had more experience with partners than you. It was the enforced effort that not strangling each other everyday was going to take, that was stressing you out.
——
It was 4am and you were sat in the center of the rink, the cold ice against your legs and back wasn’t bothering you much, only a slight distraction as you read through the script and guide for your expected performance.
Your brows were furrowed as you flipped through the pages swiftly, nearly tearing them with the force you moved them. So focused in on the words in front of you, you didn’t even notice the sounds of the gates squeaking until a skate was in front of you.
Without glancing up, you sighed and flipped the booklet closed, raising it up in an attempt to hand it to the boy standing over you. You studied his signature skates with annoyance, furthering when he didn’t take the paper from you.
“I’ve read it.” He explained and you finally looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes were tired but also seemed to be studying your reaction to the materiel. You briefly wondered if he was having a late night or an early morning as you drifted your gaze to his tight black turtleneck down to his sport pants.
“Is she kidding with this?” You scoffed and pushed off your hands so you were standing with him now. He didn’t say anything, watching as you tugged down your sweater and wiped your hands off on the thick fabric. “It’s like sex on ice.”
“It’s supposed to be romantic.” He offered with a raised eyebrow and he laughed when you turned your sharp glare towards him. “It’s a staple, you know it is. And besides it’s a big deal that the ice royalty are performing together.”
You didn’t miss the hint of disdain in his voice at the audience given title and you once again found yourself admiring his humbleness, despite it seemingly border-lining on insecurity occasionally.
“Why are you here?” You found yourself asking before you even realized you were starting to speak, you pushed off into a slow skate in a loop around him and he spun softly in place to watch you as you circled him.
He shrugged softly, the sharp line of his shoulders raising and falling and you quirked an eyebrow at his lack of answer. Eventually he sighed and spoke again. “I just come here sometimes..”
Immediately you understood what he meant and why he’d be at the rink at these hours. The same reasons why instead of studying at home, you were sprawled against the cold ice that was natural for you.
Sunghoon and you had never seen eye to eye but you were undoubtedly living a lifestyle that not many people your age could relate to, and that was clear to you as you spent the earliest years of your life searching for somebody who could even half understand that reasoning behind why, sometimes, the only place to go was the skating center.
“Did you want to practice what you’ve read so far or just talk.” His sharp tone was seeping into his words again, switching the atmosphere immediately and you frowned for a second before remembering who you were talking with. You scowled and laid back onto the ice, the starting position of your dance.
“On your side” He said lowly as he laid down next to you, a few inches between you. You nodded, accepting that he understood the choreography better than you, and turned towards him. Your eyes followed down the slope of his nose to his eyes that were staring at the ceiling.
It felt strange to lay on the ice in such a vulnerable position and even stranger to be laying next to Park Sunghoon.
“Don’t face me idiot.” He was sighing, without looking at you, and you groaned and turned onto your other side.
“Music cue.” You whispered and he hummed in agreement. The first part of your performance was no doubt the most awkward for you, you understood the physical contact that came with stunts and pair skating but this felt unnecessary and strange.
You rolled your body across the ice closer to Sunghoon until you were climbing overtop of him, both arms out and caging his body so you didn’t touch. He was holding in a laugh as he watched you and you glared down at him.
“This is so stupid.” You muttered and and completed the roll so you were now laying on his right side, close enough to touch now. The position didn’t last long because his next move was to do a similar roll overtop of you, pulling you up with him to a standing position.
“It’s romantic.” He repeated his teasing words from earlier but they felt a lot more intimate now that he was laying on top of you, peering down at you from under his floppy bangs. You suddenly felt the urge to kick him off of you.
“Raise your chest up.” He instructed and you did so robotically causing him to pause and glare at you. “At least attempt to look graceful.”
You groaned and flopped back down against the ice, taking a breath and counting to three before once again sitting up slightly, this time putting more emotion behind your movements.
He nodded softly as he swiftly jumped to a stand over you at the same time you moved, his hands coming up behind you to rest on your shoulder blades. He was awkwardly bent over you in a frozen position, thinking about the next move.
“I forgot.” He mumbled and you sighed, pushing him backwards on his skates and bringing yourself up to stand instead of relying on him.
“I thought you read it genius.” You growled and circled back around to your abandoned script, flipping open the first page and studying it. You glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow at the zoned out look on his face. “I wrap my arms around your neck.”
He seemed to snap out of his gaze and looked over at you quickly. “Yeah then I lift you, I remember.”
You sighed and shook your head in his direction, ignoring the quirk of his dark eyebrow and obvious confusion at your motion. Without another word you turned and started skating back towards the edge of the rink, preparing to silently call it a night and start again tomorrow at practice.
“So that’s all you’ve got then?” You ignored his voice as it echoed from across the ice, by now you were far to use to his quick one lined remarks to truly let it have any effect on you. “Didn’t realize you were so content with losing princess.”
The sound of the ice under your skate was almost deafening as you turned your foot and squealed to a stop, ice flakes kicking up onto your ankles from the force of the abrupt brake.
You spun around and were back in his space in seconds, eyes burning from under your sweaty bangs and he stared down at you with amusement and that competitive fire you were used to seeing from him.
“I don’t lose Park.” You were spitting the words in his direction, the tips of your skates brushing against his with a soft clank that went unheard. You lifted a hand towards his chest and jabbed a finger onto the fabric of his turtleneck, causing him to softly rock backwards a few centimeters. “And I won’t start now so get your shit together and reread the script.”
——
Some mornings you felt almost robotic in the way you could wake up and be at practice before you even registered brushing your teeth, a quick blur of familiarity and installed routine.
Other mornings you wondered how much it would hurt to have to peel your skin from off your mattress, the imagery being the most accurate representation of how it felt to wake up and actually get started.
You were falling somewhere in the middle today, trudging through the lobby of the sports center with puffy eyes and jutted out lips to match. Marching past Coach Suzy, you ignored her furrowed brows.
“What is with the two of you today?” She was calling from behind you and you didn’t need to ask her what she was talking about, catching sight of the other half of her reference already out on the ice and wearing the same clothes from when you’d last saw him. You suppose your question of late night or early morning was answered now.
After you had laced up your skates and pushed out onto the ice, he offered you a quick nod of subtle acknowledgment.
“What.. no morning princess?” You admit you were grumbling as you skated past him, planning to warm up with a few loops around the rink. He caught up to you as you started, skating backwards so he could face you.
“I knew you secretly liked it.” His retort caused you to scoff and turn your eyes into a glare, although you both noted the lack of usual serious intensity. You were too tired to go back and forth with him today and judging off the darkness under his eyes, he was in a similar boat.
“She’s going to run us into the ground today.” You replied with instead, a subtle warning in your voice and he quirked an eyebrow at the casual conversation you were initiating.
“Looking forward to it princess.”
——
You were regretting not taking your own warning more seriously, hours had passed and most the other skaters at the center had packed up and went home, sparing you and your partner a pity filled glance as they left.
Coach Suzy had been relentlessly instructing you repeat and repeat the steps until they were perfection, even stopping you a few dozens times before you’d even completed the first move citing it was “messy and emotionless”.
“Where’s the chemistry.” She was shouting from the sidelines and you sighed loudly from your place above Sunghoon, he was holding you up by your waist for one of the smaller stunts and you felt him peering up at you. “There’s no passion.”
“Yeah, no shit.” You heard Sunghoon muttering as he gently set you back down onto the ice before, not so gently, kicking it with his blade in frustration.
You were standing still on the ice, taking a deep breath and resting your head back to look up at the glass ceiling above you, seeing the blue hue of the sun finishing setting. You wiped the sweat from your forehead and brought your attention back to your coach.
“Tell us how to fake it and we will.” You told her earnestly. You were frustrated that she wasn’t allowing you to fully practice the moves with eachother, despite understanding the need for a show of emotion to capture the audience, what was the point if you fell on your ass during a poorly practiced stunt.
“You can’t fake chemistry princess.” As much as you admired and respected your coach for the years of her life she dedicated towards you and your career, you couldn’t help but flinch at the way she spat the title at you. Her tone was almost mocking as frustration got the best of her.
Sunghoon came into frame, skating forward and placing himself in front of you. You couldn’t see his face but judging by the way your coach’s features softened over his shoulder, you imagined his expression showed he wasn’t happy with the way she was speaking to you.
“I don’t mean to be like this.” She shook her head and wrung her mittened hands together. “There’s lots of reasons here why it’s important for you kids to win…. Stuff we can talk about soon.”
Neither of you spoke for a bit, staring at her off in the distance and still catching your breaths from the intense practice. Sunghoon turned his head to look at you from over his shoulder and you nearly smiled at the familiar fire in his gaze. You nodded at him in confirmation.
“Don’t worry, we’re winning.”
——
“What part of this are you not fucking understanding.” Sunghoon’s irritated yell was hitting the back of your head as you skated a bit away in anger, taking deep breaths and attempting to not escalate the situation. “It’s a simple cascade down, it’s not even a stunt.”
“I understand it asshole.” You were spinning around to face him, your voice coming out loud and bouncing across the ice. “Maybe if you supported me better it’d be easier to want to drop down.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, watching you with downturned eyes behind his messy bangs and catching his breath slightly. Then he was shaking his head and skating towards the edge of the ice, opening the gate and looking back at you expectantly.
You watched him with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl, not understanding what he was silently insinuating or why you would cut practice short after only 6 hours. Only two days had past since the talk with your coach and if anything, you’ve only gotten more hostile towards each other.
“Let’s go.” He eventually spoke with a sigh, annoyed he had to spell it out to you. “I know a place that’s open.”
The place he was referring to was apparently a 24 hour diner placed just two blocks from the center. You’d never seen it before and this didn’t surprise you considering you rarely went anywhere besides practice and home and even more rarely ate out.
You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about eating out somewhere that seemingly only served classic American grease fest and milkshakes, but Sunghoon seemed comfortable and relaxed as he slid into the booth opposite you.
You were questioning now if you’d ever seen him look so casual. Sure, he was known to be friendly and he obviously was no stranger to jokes and teasing but if you saw him here any other time, you’d think he was just a regular student without a care.
This left a weird pit in your stomach considering the fact he wasn’t a regular student and neither were you, and acting like one wouldn’t do you any good when it came to your future or this competition.
Still your thoughts fizzled out when the older waitress wandered over to your table, pocketing her order book with familiarity as she looked at the boy sat across from you.
“Sunghoon, it’s been too long sweetie.” She was smiling brightly down at him and he was glancing at you with a half smirk, you almost sensed bashfulness in his expression. “Is this your girlfriend?”
It took you a second to realize she was referring to you, her warm motherly gaze falling to your side and cocking her head in anticipation for a response. Your mouth parted in surprise as you fumbled for an answer.
“She’s a friend.” Sunghoon rushed out before you could, awkwardly avoiding your gaze picking at the old chipped vinyl on the table. You furrowed your eyebrows at the use of the word. Was he just avoiding more questions or did he actually consider you two to be friends?
The waitress looked between the two of you with a quirked eyebrow and you felt slight annoyance at the teasing glint in her eyes, like she knew something you didn’t. You opted for staring at the table infront of you, watching Sunghoon’s anxious habit. She muttered something about getting his usual and then she was off back into the kitchen.
Sunghoon cleared his throat and you looked up at him from behind your hair. He was watching you, still with an air of awkwardness, and you once again noted how different he looked in this setting.
“Why are we here?” You automatically felt bad at the harshness in your tone and if it was anybody else you’d apologize or take it back. But you could tell that he understood you were frustrated and tired from practice and antsy about wasting time.
“Coach said we don’t have any chemistry.” He explained and you gave him a look that made him chuckle under his breath. He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward slightly. “I don’t know, I thought maybe we should try to have an actual conversation.”
“We have conversations.” You butt in, shaking your head like it was an obvious statement. You’d known the boy for almost your entire life, even if you were reluctant to admit it, you’d spoken to him more than most people you know.
“When’s my birthday.” His voice penetrated your line of thought and you looked back up at him, slightly shrinking at the question. “Do I have any siblings? Matter of fact, have you ever even seen me outside of the center?”
You were glaring at him as he spoke, although you couldn’t deny what he was saying. You wracked your brain for any counter argument, grasping at straws. “Three years ago I saw you at a 7/11.”
“Woah.” He raised an eyebrow at this and smiled down at you, looking slightly surprised when you offered a small smile back. “What was I doing?”
“Buying snacks.” You gave him a disapproving stare. You weren’t lying about this, much to your surprise you had caught him a few winters ago with two handfuls of restricted snacks and a jumbo soda balanced in his arm.
“And you didn’t rat me out?” He was definitely teasing but you still thought you heard a bit of surprise and truth in his words, like he genuinely expected you to run and tell on him. “Wait, why were you at 7/11?”
For a moment you considered lying, telling him you were getting pain pills or a protein bar but this new excited look on his face was silently urging you to lean into the openness of the conversation.
“Isn’t it obvious? I was buying snacks.” You leaned back in the booth and crossed your arms. A loud laugh pushed past his lips and your eyes widened slightly at the sound, more used to chuckles or scoffs.
His tired gaze softened on you slightly at your surprised expression but before he could speak or continue the conversation, a second waitress was returning with your food (two orders of Sunghoon’s ‘usual’).
You were staring down at the plate with a curious expression, slightly overwhelmed by the amount of food placed in front of you. You could feel his stare on you as you studied it and you lifted an eyebrow without looking up at him. “How do you practice after eating all this?”
He snorted another laugh and unraveled his silverware, leaning forward again to cut up your pancakes. You lifted your gaze to watch him as he did this, sleeves rolled up on his arms and eyes concentrated on his task. After finishing with the pancakes, and taking half for himself, he answered your question vaguely.
“Intensely.” His reply caused you to frown slightly and you were grateful for his habit of avoiding eye contact so he didn’t see the pity in your gaze.
It was no secret to anyone, and especially to you, that your sport was a tough one with intense practice and overall lifestyle. You’d spent more time than you’d admit worrying about the health of other kids you trained with and that included Sunghoon, who always seemed to be working ten times as hard as everybody else.
“How about once a week?”
“What?” He looked confused at your words and paused mid bite of his scrambled eggs, eyeing you with a question in his gaze.
“Once a week we eat here.” You explained, awkwardly toying with a piece of bacon in front of you. “Like… together.”
His silence was driving you crazy and you felt your heart rate increasing with each second that he didn’t respond to you, even with a rejection laugh or an awkward denial at your attempt to get closer. You reminded yourself that this was for the sake of winning and spared him a glance. He was watching you with a familiar smirk and you sighed softly.
“I knew you liked me princess.”
——
A few days had passed since the start of your new weekly ritual with Sunghoon, days full of practice and studying the demo video the two of you had scrapped together the week prior. You were watching it now and even though it was messy and unpolished, you felt semi proud at the way the two of you looked on the ice together.
Picturing it with more practice, the right facial expression and some competition level costumes and you were starting to understand why this was something people were looking forward to. And they definitely were.
Proven by the way a newspaper was smacked onto the ice infront of you, causing you to jump slightly before lowering the iPad and glancing at it to see a poorly edited photo of you and Sunghoon on the cover. You glared down at the paper and the latter mentioned laughed from above you.
“We’re the talk of the town.” You could hear the smile on his face and you pushed the paper away from you.
“I’m pretty sure we have actual photos together.” You mumbled. “Why did they edit it like that?”
You looked up in time to see him shrug and to also take in his attire. He was wearing a form fighting black turtleneck T-shirt that was tucked into his usual sport pants. Your gaze went down to his white gloves and he took notice of your stare, wiggling his fingers mockingly.
“Go change.” You frowned, standing up to reveal your similar outfit, only your shirt was white and your gloves were black, perfectly matching his in opposite colors.
He stared down at you with an annoyed expression and for a second you considered pushing him backwards on his skates, not liking that the toe of yours were nearly touching his. You decided against it at the thought he might trip and fall.
“Less talking, more practice.” You looked over at the new voice to see your coach, her hair messy from the snow outside as she unraveled her red scarf from around her neck. “Oh don’t you two look cute.“
You groaned at her comment referring to your matching outfits, turning and skating away from Sunghoon and over to where she was sitting along the sidelines. You vaguely heard the sound of his skates following behind you and you noted his lack of comment at her teasing remark.
“Did you see this?” You turned the paper towards her direction and she looked up in question, eyes brightening when she caught sight of what you were holding.
“Oh it’s wonderful.” She chirped out and you glanced back at Sunghoon, who mirrored your look of confusion. “It’s even better than I expected.”
“So you knew about it?” Sunghoon voice was closer than you expected it to be and you almost turned around and shoved him away before remembering your coach’s frantic need for you two to cooperate, and your deal made the other night. Still you weren’t quite used to his casual presence yet.
“Knew about it? I asked for it.” She explained and you gave her an incredulous look, shifting your eyes to the photo and bold headline.
Directly above the edited photo of the both of you, adorning crowns and a few photoshopped hearts between you was the large capital words, ‘ICE ROYALTY! ROMANCE ON ICE… AND OFF?’
You let a few beats pass as you stared at the cover, letting her get the read on your feelings towards the situation. “Why on earth would you do that?”
Sunghoon was clearing his throat behind you and you were grateful that he was seemingly going to add his two cents in, in agreement against the article. “I mean… it gets people curious.”
Your mouth parted and you spun around to face him, this time when your skates bumped into eachother you did push him slightly backwards. He seemed to be expecting it and glided a few inches away from you easily, his relaxed expression only adding to your annoyance.
“In what world do we need rumors and idiocy to win this?” You spat at him and his lip turned down for just a second before his eyebrows hardened. “We should be practicing not standing here talking about stupid fake headlines.”
“Oh but you seem pretty content storming out of practice whenever you get a little bit frustrated.” He spat back at you and you faltered for just a second, not expecting such anger directed back towards you. Overwhelmed, your mind shot straight to defense.
“Maybe because you’re impossible to be around.” You hissed towards him, fist clenched at your side. You both fell quiet and you shut your eyes for a second, willing him to say something back so your impulsive words weren’t left hanging in the cold air between you.
“That’s enough.” Your coach’s voice sounded tired but firm and you kept your eyes shut, regret seeping into your skin. You didn’t want to see his expression, regardless if it was hatred or hurt. “No practice for a few days, go home early.”
——
Not being on the ice was making your skin itch and your head feel like it was floating ten feet away from your body on a thin rope. You were thankful for the snow falling outside, accompanying you on cold walks and slightly keeping you grounded. It wasn’t often you had a break from practice and maybe there was times where this was all you wanted, but something felt heavy and wrong about the way things had occurred.
You felt even worse about what you had said to Sunghoon because you had meant it. Maybe not in the way he took, as a personal hit at his character, but definitely in the way that your competitive and insecure nature had crafted up your whole life.
It was almost impossible to be calm and in the right headset with somebody who seemed to be relaxed and carefree despite living the same life as you, you who could barely get through the day without multiple stress driven outburst.
Especially now, standing outside the diner, you realized how much better of a person he was than you. If he had said those words to you, you wouldn’t have shown up tonight. Maybe you would have even begged for a new partner or dramatically switched training halls.
But as you stood wrapped tightly in a thick jacket and a scarf, shaking from the cold and dark walk over here, you stared at the side of his face through the foggy window and took a deep guilty breath.
The entrance bell ringing as you pushed open the frosty door seemed louder than normal and so did the silence that screamed between the two of you as you sat down across from him. He didn’t look at you as you approached and for a moment you wondered if he only came to see if you would.
Then the waitress was circling around and placing a hot drink in front of you, offering you a small smile and a head nod. You managed a confused smile back at her but raised an eyebrow at the drink you didn’t order.
“It’s hot chocolate.” Sunghoon spoke and your eyes widened, shooting up towards him. He was watching you with a careful expression. “It’s cold and you don’t drink coffee.”
You wondered how he knew that about you, when he had observed you enough to have a fact that small stored away. You didn’t voice your confusion, giving him a small nod and taking off your gloves so you could wrap your cold hands around the warm mug.
“I can pull myself out of the competition.” You stopped mid sip as he started to speak, avoiding eye contact with you and fiddling with this thread of his fingerless mittens. “I guess I didn’t realize how hard of a time you were having.”
“I’m not.” You rushed out, immediately flushing at the loud volume of your voice. He looked shocked at your words, watching as you set down the mug carefully and put your elbows on the table. “I’m not having a hard time… well not because of you atleast. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He didn’t say anything for a bit and you were curious what he was thinking about, not for the first time you found yourself wishing he was not so nice, then maybe he’d have a burst of anger and lay everything on you. You wanted him to call you spoiled or rude, anything other than that soft look he was giving you.
“I’ve always had a hard time.” You don’t know where it came from, the sudden personal statement causing him to tilt his head in the terrible, genuinely curious way that he did. You felt an overwhelming sense that if you didn’t tell him something about you right now, that would be it.
“With me?” His eyebrow cocked and yours furrowed.
“No… or yes.” His lip quirked downwards and you hurried to finish your sentence before a repeat of the other day occurred. “Not because of you but because of me. Because I’m jealous of you and how good you are at everything.”
He seemed to take this in for a second before a scoff escaped his lips, the smile on his face letting you know it was semi lighthearted.
“You’re jealous of me?” His shock was genuine and he leaned back in the booth and sucked a breath in through his teeth. The loud hissing sound made you wince. “And all this time I’ve thought the same about you.”
“Oh whatever.” You mumbled, both not believing what he was saying and not feeling comfortable at the unfamiliarity of the back and forth compliment.
“I mean it.“ Something in the way Sunghoon said it made you want to believe him. “You’re like a natural out there. Living up to your title, if I do say so myself.”
“It doesn’t feel natural, and don’t forget who got the title first.” You felt a bit childish to be refusing his attempt at being civil, nice even, but that nasty insecure part of you wouldn’t allow you to take any compliments from him.
“Well I was excited to be paired with you.” He raised his shoulders in a shrug and you watched him carefully from under your eyelashes. He smiled at you awkwardly when you didn’t immediately respond and your lip jutted out into a pout.
“I’m sorry Sunghoon.” The words felt weighted and empty as you forced them out but you truly meant what you were saying and you hoped he could see that beneath your initial tone. He looked slightly taken back at the use of his first name.
Luckily, he nodded at you and leaned forward on his elbows again, pushing your mug back towards you with two steady fingers. You watched his hand as they came closer to your side of the table, feeling a bit embarrassed when the mug stopped infront of you, insinuating he wanted you to finish the warm liquid.
After a beat you glanced up at him and immediately dropped your gaze back down to the steamy cup at the smirk on his face, his fingers lingering for just a moment before retracting back to under the booth.
“Finish, we have work to do.”
——
“Exactly! That’s exactly it right there.” Sunghoon’s excited words barely registered to you over the sound of your loud panting.
You were leaned over, elbows on your knees and eyes closed shut in an attempt to catch your breath. You’d been going at it relentlessly the last few days, nearly perfecting the basic moves but still needing to add the flare the judges would be looking for.
Sunghoon and you had been getting along for the most part, small spurts of bickering and burst of frustration due to complicated moves but nobody has stormed out or lost any fingers, so it was a win in your book.
“Again.” He was chiming from a few feet away and you glared up at him from behind your sweaty bangs causing him to laugh before assuming his position on the floor.
You were slowly becoming used to it now, the close proximity, the faux romance on your expressions. You were a professional and that’s all this truly was, work. But you were feeling slightly childish about the way you couldn’t get use to his hands on you.
Telling yourself it was just awkwardness, maybe even lingering animosity you were holding that made your stomach turn every time his big hand wrapped it’s way around some part of you, you laid on the ice a few feet away from him.
You routinely rolled over top of him, movements robotic as you avoided looking down at him and he tensed slightly.
When it was his turn to do the same, he paused above you and you frowned, waiting for him to move off of you so you could ease into the next portion.
Instead he stayed in place, caging you in as he balanced himself on his forearms. For a second you thought about the core strength it’d require to hold a plank on ice before shaking your head and internally scolding yourself.
“You’re distracted.” He was saying above you and you felt his breath on your cheek, strongly opposing the cold ice your other one was pressed against. His voice was low and telling, not a question.
“No I’m not.” You scoffed, or atleast the best you could considering if you took a deep inhale your chest would press against his. “Maybe you’re distracted.”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you looked at him, still refusing to turn your head incase your noses touched. He was looking down at you intensely however and your stomach flipped again.
“I am.” His voice was firm but you looked at him just in time to see his eyes awkwardly shoot around your face, hesitation in his gaze.
You weren’t fully sure what he was implying and you definitely weren’t going to reply without him outright saying that it was you he was distracted by, the presumed humiliation making you furrow your eyebrows.
The thought crossed your mind that he was making fun of you, that he had someone noticed how hard it was for you to focus around him and was trying to bait a confession out of you.
You turned your head finally, not flinching at the way his nose bumped against yours or the sharp inhale he took at the sudden contact. You held his gaze for just a few seconds before starting to speak.
“Get off me Park.”
He faltered for a second like he wasn’t expecting that sort of response, body completely locking above yours before quickly rolling over onto his back next to you and awkwardly sitting up.
“I’m sorry.” He rushed out and you finally took a big breath before also sitting up and avoiding looking at him. He watched as you stood completely and you felt his eyes on you. “I don’t know why I said that Y/N.”
“It’s not a big deal.” You lied smoothly, keeping your voice steady and shrugging softly as you wiped off the ice shavings that was stuck on your leggings. He was still watching you and you heard him sigh in embarrassment.
“From the start?” He eventually muttered and you glanced over at him, shaking your head.
“I have to head out actually.” You tried to keep your tone casual but he looked pained, obviously not falling for your excuse and realizing you were leaving because of what he said. “First thing tomorrow?”
He didn’t say anything but you knew he had heard you and started to skate off the ice, face flushing with awkwardness as you finally took a breath and accessed what had just happened.
If you weren’t mistaken and he wasn’t pulling some sick joke on you, which judging by his mortified reaction you highly doubted that, Park Sunghoon had just attempted to make a pass at you.
Park Sunghoon who, for the better part of your life, had done nothing but drive you absolutely crazy with anger and jealousy. The same boy who thought it was funny to tie your laces together and watch videos of your failed jumps on the waiting rooms big screen.
You were absolutely sickened by the idea of it and even worse, the fact that the red painting your cheeks was not because of anger.
Storming out from the hall into the snowy night, your stomach was twisting again with what you now fully understood was not nauseation.
It was the stone cold realization that you liked Park Sunghoon.
—-
You hadn’t exaggerated on your call for early practice the next day, entering the hall before the sun had even risen yet.
It didn’t help you’d spend the entire night tossing and turning and screaming into your pillow as you replayed the scenario in your head over and over, analyzing every awkward second of silence or quirk of his eyebrows.
You’d come to the conclusion, at some point during your fourth hour of restlessness, that Sunghoon hadn’t been joking and he was absolutely attempting to flirt with you or at least was testing the waters.
This realization was nothing short of crippling and you almost considered not coming in today, making faking a cough or a sore throat. But the clock was ticking on your time to practice before the competition and with this added distraction, you needed all the time you could get.
So it was driving you a bit insane as the second hour passed and Sunghoon still hadn’t arrived to practice. You hadn’t entered the rink yet, anxiously sitting in the locker room with your skates half tied as you rocked your knees back and forth.
You imagined he would be embarrassed, maybe he hadn’t even thought before he spoke and it came across wrong, but for him to not show up at all was something you couldn’t accept.
Before another minute of waiting could pass you were pulling your phone out and doing something you’ve, somehow, never done before and texting him.
y/n : After all this and you aren’t going to show up? I don’t know about you but this is really important to me and I’m sick of the childishness.
You sent the message before you considered how harsh it was, leaning forward and groaning as your forehead hit your knee. Your phone was clutched to your chest as you waited for the buzz to signal he responded.
It never came and you felt your heart sink to your stomach, smushing its way past the irritation and anger you’d been accumulating the past hour.
You flung your skates off with a yell, wincing internally at the loud echoed bang of them hitting the metal seats that rang throughout the room. Standing swiftly, you stuffed them into your locker and slammed it shut before turning on your heel and going to leave.
In your fury driven urgency to get outside you didn’t peer around the corner before rounding it, resulting in you falling back against the floor as you smacked roughly into somebody approaching at the same time.
You let out another loud groan as you hit the floor, head striking the ground that was luckily covered in rubber mats designed for your skates blades. Still, a wave of pain washed over you at the force in which you fell.
“Fuck.” To make matters worse, you immediately registered as he spoke that it was Sunghoon you’d smacked into. He was leaning down to check you, a hand jutted out in an attempt to help you up. “I’m so sorry I’m late, something came up and-“
“I don’t care.” You cut him off in a snap causing his face to drop in guilt. You ignored his outstretched hand and pushed yourself to a standing position. “I’m leaving.”
“Y/N, I really am telling the truth.” He rushed out, eyes big and desperate. You glared at him and tried to move down the exit hall again, behind stopped by his large frame as he stepped sideways in your way.
“Whatever it is I can’t imagine it could be more important than practice.” You felt the irony in your words as you spoke them, wanting to wince at how similar you sounded to your mother but you were acting on anger.
He seemed to realize this now, deflating with a sigh and staring down at you with his sharp eyebrows pulled to the center of his forehead.
“Let me show you.”
——
You weren’t exactly sure how he had managed to get you here considering how hell bent you’d been on avoiding him or strictly practicing, nothing in between.
But somehow, half an hour later, and you were sat frowning in his passenger seat. Your arms were crossed in irritation and you were stiff and tight in the seat, resisting the urge to look around and analyze his car.
Truthfully you hadn’t even realized he knew how to drive, although it suddenly made sense considering you’d never seen a parent of his at the rink and he always was there at odd hours of the night without the cold bitten cheeks you typically had.
Sunghoon had a strong point when he said you didn’t know anything about each other, you knew it was truthful when he had said it but it was weighing on you now as you looked over at him as he drove.
He looked nervous, shoulders higher and more tense than they usually were but he was sat comfortably in his seat, only one hand on the steering wheel like he’d been driving for a long time. You wondered when he had learned, who had taught him or if maybe he’d taught himself.
You’d never thought of Sunghoon as lonely. He was always bouncing around competitions with a bright smile, chatting with judges and opponents and even with your own mother a few times.
You remember being 15, face red and puffy from the tears you’d shed after she’d given you a strict scolding in the bathroom after a low scale contest. He had approached afterwards, ready to throw some quick jabs and comments your way before seeing the look on your face.
Instead he had struck a conversation with her, making funny faces at you over her turned shoulder as she spoke in her familiar harsh tone. You remember laughing into your glove and then watching him as he walked away, trying to catch sight of his mom.
He seemed to know how to handle strict parents so you were curious if he was raised similarly, but you were just left confused as he left the rink by himself.
“See that right there,” Your mother had spoken in a low voice, leaning towards you on the bench. “Some parents don’t even show up to these things, you should be more grateful.”
You couldn’t stop thinking about that now as you pulled into a parking lot, blue hour was settling in now as the afternoon bled on. The drive was just over an hour but it was getting darker sooner in the day as you went deeper into the winter.
He sucked in a breath and you felt him look over at you like he was waiting for you to say something about where you were. You didn’t but you turned your head to meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow for an explanation.
It looked like he was considering giving you one for a second and then he changed his mind, taking his keys and getting out of the car. You watched him circle around to your side, opening your door for you and waiting for you to step out.
You silently followed him into the building, passing by a reception desk with a large man who gave Sunghoon a smile and a nod. You stared at his comfortable shoulders as he walked through the winding hallways with ease, clearly familiar with them.
The building resembled a hospital, dull colors and the buzzing of LED lights making your head spin slightly but the similarities between the people in the rooms you were passing told you what it truly was.
Sunghoon stopped infront of a room with a closed door and looked over at you, again like he was expecting you to speak. You didn’t and he eventually sighed and turned to open the door after a beat.
“Sunghoon? Is that you?” You stayed by the door, letting it close softly behind you, as he walked into the room and pulled back a privacy curtain that was hanging from a rod on the ceiling. You froze in place at the sight of the older woman in the bed, machines hooked around her with dull beeps and chimes.
“Yeah Nana.” His voice was lower than you’d heard it before and your eyes went to him as he softly lowered himself to sit on her bed. He glanced at you and waved a hand, signaling for you to come closer.
For a second you wanted to shake your head, to back track out of the room and wait for him down the hall. You didn’t understand why he would take you here, why he would show you this part of his life or what this meant.
But you let your feet fall forward and stepped into her view, breath catching when he outstretched a hand to grab your wrist and pull you closer at a faster pace. The feeling of his skin against yours combined with her questioning gaze made your face flush.
“Oh.” Her mouth parted in shock and you bowed your head slightly with a smile in greeting, not fully trusting yourself to speak. “You must be Y/N.”
Your eyes widened and you looked towards Sunghoon who had a similar expression, hanging his head so he didn’t have to meet your eye.
“You’ve heard about me?” You spoke softly, a louder volume feeling intrusive in the quiet room. The lights were dimmed low and the curtains were drawn giving the space a warm calm atmosphere.
“Oh he doesn’t shut up about you.” She was smiling at you and reaching out a shaky hand for you to take. You went to lift your left hand and felt the weight of Sunghoon’s on your wrist still, faltering and looking at him.
He looked embarrassed and confused, like he hadn’t even realized he was still holding onto you. He went to remove his grip but you twisted your hand and pulled his into yours, squeezing it tightly. You gave her your free hand instead.
It was a bit jarring to you and out of your element and you felt a bit of panic building in your throat. Being here was strange and Sunghoon being beside you was every stranger.
The weirdest part of all was the absolute care and adoration on this woman’s face, a strange you’d never seen before holding your hand with such delicacy. You felt yourself tear up slightly thinking how nice it must’ve been to grow up with such a person in your life.
You glanced at Sunghoon at this thought, you were still standing beside the bed holding both their hands while he sat and he was already looking at you. He seemed slightly taken back by your glossy eyes but he smiled at you warmly like he understood the reasoning.
And you were realizing now that he did.
It wasn’t the first time it had occurred to you that he was lonely but it was definitely the first time you really processed it. Maybe it was this new found care you had for him, this pull at your heart when you thought back to the boy with nobody to see his competition performances.
“Why are you back here sweetheart.” Sunghoon’s grandmas soft voice was speaking again and you glanced over at her, avoiding his eye contact when you felt his thumb rub the back of your hand.
You suddenly realized this was why he was late, obviously held up in a visit or maybe a medical emergency. Guilt hit you as you remembered your harsh tone and processed the fact he had driven the hour to practice and then turned around and brought you back here.
“I thought it was probably time the two of you met.” He lied naturally, squeezing your hand as if he was signaling for you to go along with it. You didn’t say anything, too busy wondering what all she knew about you, how long had you been a subject of conversation between the two.
You can’t imagine all the conversations were pleasant but her eyes held absolutely no sign of disdain or malice.
“You two must be so busy.” The soft croak in her voice made your stomach hurt and she shakily squeezed your hand causing you to do the same to Sunghoon’s in a ripple effect. You realized she was looking at you for a response.
“It isn’t too bad.” You assured her, smiling softly and you faintly heard Sunghoon scoff from beside you. You glared quickly at him and he lifted his free hand in mock surrender.
“I know it’s tiring.” His grandma was continuing and you looked back over at her, her eyebrows turning inwards. Her expression was shockingly similar to his and you let a heavy silence fall between the three of you.
You were once again wondering what type of things they talked about, if she was looking pained at the thought of her grandsons tiring lifestyle or if he had mentioned something about you and your own strict regimen.
It didn’t feel like the time to ask questions and you especially didn’t think you had the right to curiosity.
You’d shown Sunghoon a lot of coldness in the past few days despite his multiple attempts to get closer, and through that all he still had brought you to such an intimate personal place.
“I won’t keep you long.” Sunghoon and his grandma had been having a low voiced conversation while you were deep in thought but she was louder now, catching your attention and giving you a gentle knowing look.
You squeezed her hand one final time as a goodbye, not fully trusting yourself or your voice. Sunghoon was standing then, shoulder bumping against yours and you were overwhelming aware of the fact he was still holding your hand.
You welcomed it, feeling cold and bitter when the door opened to reveal the harsh white of the nursing homes lights that sharply contrasted Mrs. Parks yellow tinted room.
Without thinking you were pulling his arm closer, so your left hand was wrapped in his and your right arm was holding his sleeve against your chest, practically hugging his arm as you walked.
If the sudden closeness shocked him he didn’t show it, not making a move to remove you even as you passed back through the lobby and out the front doors.
It was darkening now despite it barely being 5pm, the short light of winter days making you colder than you’d ever been. The irony of the princess of the ice saying that didn’t miss you.
He paused when you reached his car and you felt him look at you. He was obviously trying to get a gauge of what you wanted to do considering you were glued to his side. You let him go reluctantly and walked swiftly to the passenger side before pulling yourself up into the car.
He was sitting down by the time you pulled your seatbelt on, starting the engine but not making any move to drive or fully situate himself. You imagined he was waiting for you to say something again and this time you didn’t want to disappoint him.
“She’s nice.” You felt pathetic as you spoke the words, nice not beginning to describe the situation or how you felt but you fell short like always when it came to affection.
Luckily he seemed to know exactly what you meant, something he did a lot you were realizing. He seemed to know when you were truly mad versus just tired and frustrated, he knew your distaste for coffee and he knew how to make you laugh despite your moms scolding.
You watched him as he nodded and tried to contain a fond smile for his grandma, biting his lip softly and forming a small dimple on his cheek.
“Do you come here a lot?” You were talking again and this seemed to take him off guard for just a second before he was neutralizing his expression like he was worried he’d scare you off.
“Everyday.” He was humming and leaning his head back against the seat, turning it lazily to look over at you. Your eyes followed up his jaw to his eyes just in time to see him quirk an eyebrow. “If I can.”
“And you talk about me?”
He snorted a laugh at your bluntness and the suggestion behind your words, eyes squeezing shut in a chuckle. You found yourself almost entranced studying his features.
“Not all the time princess.” The familiar pet name caused a similar reaction to normal, blood surging and stomach turning. You tried to ignore the fact it wasn’t driven by anger like it typically was, something much heavier replacing it now.
“But sometimes?” You pressed forward and leaned your elbow onto the middle console as the leather creaked under the weight. The noise caused his eyes to snap open and look at you, realizing you were closer now as you leaned in his space.
He hummed again and his eyes tracked down your face, similarly to the way you were studying him. “Yeah, sometimes.”
You didn’t say anything, a bit lost for words now that he was looking at you. It had never passed by you that he was handsome, probably the most striking person you’d ever seen in your life but without the usual cloud of anger fogging your mind, he was especially alluring.
“What do you say?” You voice came out as a whisper, almost falling forward from how far you were leaning on your elbows. He wasn’t moving in his seat, watching you unconsciously come closer with tired eyes.
He shrugged and lifted an eyebrow, hand falling forward on the middle console as he let a finger unravel and skim across your forearm.
“What do you say Sunghoon.” You ignored the goosebumps that his touch caused, questioning him further. You almost didn’t care about his answer anymore, you just wanted to hear him talk again.
His gaze hardened at the use of his first name, shifting in his seat but not turning his body to face yours. He kept his head turned towards you however, letting your breath fan his face every time you took a shaky exhale.
“Nothing bad.” He was speaking in a low tone, not fully paying attention to the conversation anymore.
“I want to hear though.”
“I wanna kiss you.” He tensed for a second as the words found their way out of his mouth without him meaning for them to. His shoulders relaxed seeing the way your mouth parted in shock.
You felt like a cold tidal wave had hit you as he spoke, face heating up and then more so when his eyes fell towards your open mouth.
A large part of you instinctively wanted to shut him down, wanted to lean back in your seat and tell him to start the car and prepare for the awkward trip back to the training center.
The other part of you liked the way he looked in a darkening car and less shallowly, liked how he smiled at you when you held his grandmas hand despite you letting out your frustration on him only hours earlier.
“That’s what you and your nana talk about?” You smiled at him as you spoke, a teasing tilt in your voice. Your smile only widened when he let out a breathy laugh and pressed his forehead against yours.
“If I kiss you right now will it ruin everything.” He was whispering and you were suddenly aware of how silent it was in the car, wishing for a low buzzing radio to fill the gaps.
“It might.” You whispered back to him and you felt him raise his eyebrows against yours causing your lips to jut out in a pout.
You felt his fingers dancing along your forearm again and you felt the sudden urge to hold his hand again.
“After we win the competition I’ll kiss you.” He sounded slightly pained in his words but you heard that familiar competitive fire that was typically directed towards you.
“Or you could do it now.” You felt slightly pathetic at the whine in your voice and he made it even worse by smiling at the sound of it.
“If I do it now we might not make it home.” He had a slight groan to his voice and your stomach flipped again.
You hastily shifted your arm off the middle console to fumble around for his hand, opting for wrapping your grip around his wrist again. He glanced down at it for a second before looking back up at you.
Slightly embarrassed, you felt your cheeks heating up at your actions but the warmth of his smooth skin was addicting now that you’d actually felt it outside of practice with skin tight clothes. Paired with his suggestive words and you were a goner when it came to common sense.
“How good is your self restraint?” You eventually opted for another teasing comment, not quite sure you were charming enough to directly respond to his comment without embarrassing yourself.
“When it comes to you?” His eyes flashed with something and you briefly wondered how long he’d been thinking about this or if it was as recent of a development as it was for you. “Terrible.”
“I want to… kiss you too.” You almost face palmed at your own words, how utterly stupid and childish they sounded. He had to have figured you didn’t know how to do this, he’d only spent your entire life seeing how busy you constantly were.
He smiled at you, a genuine toothy smile that made you want to scream in embarrassment. Luckily he didn’t seem to be making fun of you and was just genuinely amused by your awkward comment.
And he was. He liked seeing sides of you he’d only caught in passing, he liked that you were teasing back with him and not pulling away or snapping into fight mode at his presence. He especially liked the way your small hand was gripping tightly onto his wrist like you were so desperate to touch him, he wasn’t allowed to remove it for even a minute.
“We’ve gotta head back princess.” You could tell by the way he said that it was his final decision but you relished in the impatience in his eyes.
He leaned back in his seat again, leaving you leaned over the console still and short of breath before flopping back against the leather and waiting for him to pull out of the parking lot.
A few seconds of silence passed and you looked at him in question, raising an eyebrow at the fact he was looking at you in waiting. You followed the way his eyes looked down and saw his hand outstretched towards you.
You definitely were bright red now, looking away but taking his hand in yours as he finally started the drive back home.
—
He’d pulled up to the center after an hour of silence and shy hand squeezes. You were thankful for his silence, more than anything needing a bit of time to think about what had happened in the past few days.
It didn’t seem like it was weighing on him as much, he seemed nervous and excited but not as much thrown off as you felt. You wondered if there was a reasoning behind that or if you he was just really good at pretending to be casual.
You were terrible at being casual, further proved by the way you’re nearly choked as his hand found it’s way to the small of your back while leading you through the parking lot and into the building.
A week ago you would have thrown him off of you and said something about how you already knew the way in and didn’t need him to show you.
You thought about it for a second, just a small second, when you passed through the lobby and your coach came into view. She was practically blowing smoke as she caught sight of the two of you and started to shake her head in anger.
“Oh so now you show up.” She spat and you froze in place, step faltering at the aggressive way she was approaching. “You think you can just skip a whole entire afternoon of practice just because you’ve gotten some good scores in your career.”
Your frown was deepening and you felt the childish urge to curl in on yourself. You’d been in such a happiness cloud since this morning and you felt like you’d been pushed off a sharp cliff back into reality.
And she was absolutely right. It was stupid to skip practice even if it proved to be extremely important and beneficial to you.
“Watch what you say.” Sunghoon was spitting back at her and taking a small step forward, his hand sliding from your back to rest on your waist. Her eyes followed the movement but you couldn’t read her expression.
“Distracted.” She spat the single word, knowing the impact of it. Knowing that was the one thing you were not supposed to be, absolutely never allowed to be. “You’re fucking distracted.”
“And so what if she is.” You’d never heard Sunghoon so angry and you wanted to grab his shoulder and pull him back, wanted to calm him down so he didn’t get reprimanded too. “She’s spent everyday of her entire life focused on one thing, it was barely a few hours.”
“A few hours turns into more.” She was practically screeching now and a few other skaters were sending you apologetic glances and scurrying away. “This is a distraction”
You felt tears well up as she gestured between the two of you, a look of anger and disgust on her face.
“Aren’t you the one who paid for this.” You were confused what Sunghoon was referring to before you remembered the news article she had ordered. A surge of anger flashed through you at the reminder, the pure hypocrisy in what she was saying.
She could spin your love life however she pleased when it was beneficial to her and her career overview but forbids you from actually spending any time with anybody other than the ice.
You didn’t want to listen to her anymore, squeezing Sunghoon’s arm in an attempt to draw his attention away and calm him down. He didn’t look at you for a second, keeping his hard glare locked on her.
She wasn’t his coach so there wasn’t anything she could directly do to punish him. Nothing besides her ability to pull you from the pair skate or request a different partner for you, severely hurting your chances of winning and his yearly average.
“I told you about this.” Her voice was nearly a whisper with the way she hissed it through her clenched teeth. You thought she was talking to you for a second but she was holding Sunghoon’s gaze tightly.
Your hand fell from his arm in confusion, not understanding what she was referring to.
“I don’t give a fuck what you told me.” He spat back and took a small step back towards you again.
You took a step to the side before you even realized you were moving away from him, only processing it when he turned to look at you with a hurt expression. You felt guilty but something about the unknown of their words was leaving a heavy pit in your stomach.
“Y/N, we can talk about this later…. Alone.” Your coach was sighing and despite your anger with her you were glad she knew when to remove herself from a situation.
You held Sunghoon’s gaze as she walked off, presumably leaving the center. He spared a quick glance in her direction to make sure she was gone before looking back at you with that same expression.
“What’s wrong.” His voice was weak and confused, a sharp contrast to the way he was just throwing daggers at Suzy.
“What is she talking about?”
He seemed thrown off for a second, taking a second to think before understanding passed over his face. He took a step towards you, a hand jutted out in your direction. Your lips formed a frown but you took his hand and waited for him to speak.
“At the beginning of the season,” He cleared his throat and your stomach turned with nerves. Maybe she had instructed him to flirt with you, to attempt closeness with you for a better performance. “Before she officially picked me, she sat me down and told me I needed to keep my feelings out of it.”
“What feelings?” You shook your head in confusion, still not fully understanding. “Like with the way we fight? That doesn’t make any sense, wouldn’t she be happy to see us civil then?”
“It wasn’t about that.” He sighed and you watched his cheeks slowly redden as his eyes anxiously shifted to avoid looking at you. “She said she could tell I… was into you and she didn’t want me to become something you focused on outside of being your skate partner.”
You pondered the thought of what he was saying for a few beats of silence, almost feeling more confused at the explanation. If you were correct then he seemed to be insinuating existing feelings towards you, and enough for other people to notice.
“This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.” He sighed again and you felt his hand uncomfortably flex in yours. “All these years of working up the nerve I figured it would be some big romantic gesture.”
He was telling a joke but his voice lacked all humor, a hint of anger seeping in like his plans had been ruined.
“What the hell are you talking about Sunghoon.” Your voice was breathy and slightly irritated, sick of everybody’s vague wordings. “You sound like you’re inlove with me or something.”
Your scoff trailed off when he didn’t say anything. You had expected him to laugh at the thought, say a teasing remark or anything at all. He stopped looking around and watched you with a strange expression, like he was waiting for you to piece things together.
You felt your mouth parting softly and you slowly dropped his hands, he didn’t try to grab yours again and gave you your space as you tried to process what he was seemingly saying.
Park Sunghoon seemed to be insinuating, or atleast not denying the fact, that he was inlove with you and had been for more than a few years.
The thought of this made you feel sick and dizzy and you almost grabbed him for support as your knees weakened.
You weren’t quite sure if it was a good sick or a bad sick. On one hand you were excited, your newly discovered liking towards him and desperation to explore this new territory driving forward the giddiness you felt at the thought of him liking you back.
On the other hand you felt disgusted. Both at yourself for missing the signs, maybe spending years hurting him with your rude comments and refusal to learn anything about him. But also at him for not telling you or even hinting it from what you could see, half the fights you’d gotten in throughout the years had been started by him.
“Since when?” Your voice came out stern and his eyes creased at the way your face scrunched up in confusion and anger.
He was shaking his head and taking a step towards you, immediately backtracking when he realized he had done so. You were watching him and waiting for a response that you weren’t sure was coming considering he was starting to look pained at the thought of telling you.
“It doesn’t matter.” He proved you right as he continued to shake his head. “It’s not a distraction, you only knew because I fucked up the other day at practice.”
“That was a fuck up?” You scoffed at him, anger making you ignore the fact that he was right and you yourself had treated it like he made a mistake.
“It shouldn’t have happened like that. I waited all this time it was selfish for me to do it now, I don’t know why I did.” He was trying to explain himself but it was just confusing you further. “I just couldn’t help myself, I don’t know, being around you like this is making me feel crazy.”
He was talking like a lovesick teenager and your stomach was lurching at the fact that might just be the case.
You don’t understand how he hid it so well, or even when he had started to realize his feelings and plan to keep them a secret. Why would he put himself through such a thing for so long and then risk it all by accepting to be your partner.
A wave of guilt washed over you again as you raked through all your memories with Sunghoon with this new added knowledge. He must’ve been so hurt while pretending like he didn’t care that you were so mean to eachother.
“Please tell me since when.” You tried to soften your voice, your anger not even directed at him in the first place just the circumstance.
“I don’t know.” His voice broke when he said it like it was a question he’d asked himself a dozen times. He took a big breath and deflated. “Probably since the first time I saw you with your little pink skates, who knows.”
You didn’t say anything for a few seconds and were suddenly hyper aware that you were having this conversation in the middle of the lobby, tears brewing in your eyes as your hands started to shake.
“I’m sorry Y/N.” Sunghoon’s voice was desperate and earnest, like he felt guilty for falling inlove with you which made you feel ten times worse about the whole situation.
“Will you take me home?” You looked up at him with wet eyelashes just in time to see shock pass over his face. He clearly wasn’t expecting such a casual conversation change, especially one that entailed you spending more time alone together today.
Still, he softened as he looked at you and nodded his head slowly like he was waiting for you to change your mind. You both stood still even after his agreement, in a slight daze from the intense emotions you’d been feeling. He nodded again, more to himself this time, and you felt his hand against the small of your back starting to lead you back outside.
Neither of you spoke when you felt the cold air outside and still when he opened the passenger door for you and helped you climb into seat. He watched you for a second before closing the door and circling the car to get into his own spot.
It felt dramatically different in the space than it had only a few hours before, the giggly excited tension replaced with silence and heavy air. You were so out of it you didn’t even notice he didn’t ask for directions to your apartment.
When you realized you’d been driving for a few minutes you were confused, wondering when he had learned the way to your place, before realizing you weren’t heading in the direction you’d normally come from.
You immediately figured he was taking you to his house instead and for some reason you didn’t want to object. Despite being confused and angry and feeling slightly betrayed at this kept secret, you were comfortable and familiar in his presence and almost felt addicted to being around him.
Besides you know that there was nothing this warm and caring waiting for you back home. If your mother was there at all, she was bound to throw a massive fit over you missing practice.
It was worrying to you that you couldn’t find a single piece of care inside of you about missing practice. If anything, your chest was light and airy underneath all the pain and you weren’t sure it’d ever felt this stress free in your life.
You were slowly understanding why you were never given a break, why a day off was unacceptable. Maybe they were fearful you’d fully realize how much better you’d feel without this force of pressure and expectation.
Sunghoon wasn’t the reason you were distracted, at least not from the competition, and once you were able to speak again you wanted him to understand that.
Eventually you were pulling up to an apartment building, similar to yours but slightly on the other side of town. Sunghoon was looking over at you again, waiting for a sign you were ready to get out of the car.
You opened your own door and briefly saw him nod from the corner of your eye, unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping outside back into the bitter air.
You awkwardly followed behind him as he unlocked the main set of doors with a keycard, walking down a long plain hallway until he stopped at a door with a small penguin welcome mat infront of it. He looked at it and then back at you and he seemed pleased at the amusement in your eyes.
When he unlocked the door you were suddenly hit with the fact you were about to see where he lived and quickly wondered who he lived with. You weren’t sure you were ready to hold an awkward conversation with his parents about why you were going in their sons room.
You realized immediately upon walking in, however, that that was not the case at all. The apartment was comfortable but small, far too small to house a family even if he had no siblings. You watched him kick his shoes off into a slot in the empty rack and hang his keys up on the singular hook.
He started down the entrance hallway before stopping when he realized you weren’t following behind him. He looked over his shoulder at you and tensed up at the sad expression on your face.
“What?” The tone of his voice told you that he already knew what you were thinking without you having to say it.
“I didn’t know you lived alone.” You tried to keep the pity out of your words, a casual tone coming off awkward and deliberate.
He scoffed at your attempt and for a moment you were reminded of who exactly you were standing here with, a glimpse of the familiar rival you were more used to startling you slightly.
He didn’t say anything in response, just waving a hand to signal for you to move into the main living space. You followed quickly after removing your shoes, taking in the larger room with widened eyes.
Something about it was very Sunghoon, despite being plain and quiet. The yellow toned lights and CD’s on the coffee table catching your attention as you shuffled into the warm room.
“You seemed out of it.” He was starting from behind you. He didn’t sound close but a chill ran through you at the thought of him watching you. “I didn’t feel right bringing you home alone, I hope that’s okay.”
You turned to look at him and your heart tugged at his sad tired expression. He was looking at you intensely, you figured it must be weird to see you in such a familiar setting. You jutted a hand out in his direction and he looked down at it with surprise.
“I didn’t want to go home.” Your voice was low and soft, the silence of the room outside of the heater running was reminding you of his grandma’s and it felt wrong to have a higher volume.
His head cocked slightly but he took your hand in his, letting out a shaky breath when you squeezed it tightly and pulled on his hand so he’d come closer to you. He was standing far away so your arms were stuck straight out, like he wasn’t sure he was actually allowed to touch you.
You tugged him again and he stumbled closer to you, his big hand instinctively coming to rest on your waist and then falling again in a haste. You frowned at his reaction and then realized he must be feeling confused.
“What are you thinking about?” You kept your voice quiet and soft and he looked down at you with that same pained expression. You let go of his hand and put both of yours flat on his chest, feeling the way his heart beat raced and hiccuped.
You were once again impressed by his ability to mask how he felt, if you weren’t looking at him so intensely or touching him, you’d have no idea he was feeling this upset.
“I don’t know.” He whispered and he sounded honest. His hand hesitatingly went back to your waist, feeling awkward at the way his arms dangled at his sides while you touched him.
“I want to be here.” You felt the sudden urge to reassure him on this despite not being sure if that’s what was bothering him or just the situation in general.
“For how long?” Frustration laced his words and you didn’t understand for a few seconds. First you assumed he meant how long you wanted to stay but you quickly realized he was asking how long you’ve wanted to be around him.
You felt guilt creep up considering you weren’t sure what answer to give him because you weren’t even sure yourself when things had changed for you. You don’t think it was a sudden dramatic realization after he tried to flirt with you like you originally thought.
Thinking back on your life now, Sunghoon and this rivalry has been the most consistent thing you’ve ever known. You’d search for him at competitions and you’d spend weekends thinking about what insults to throw at him next time you saw him.
This could’ve been a childish fued, maybe even bordering on actual dislike sometimes, if it wasn’t for everything else.
You were no stranger to finding him attractive, bitterly acknowledging it every time you saw him. You remember when you were entering your teens and he was shooting up in height and his features were sharpening, scrolling his instagram at the time and scowling at photos of him surrounded by similarly attractive people.
You thought back to staring at his hands in the diner and the fondness you felt watching him juggle an armful of forbidden snacks in that 7/11. A fondness that left you so dazed you had completely forgotten to act as an enemy and rat him out to the coaches.
As hard as it was to admit, even to yourself, you weren’t ice skating because it was your passion. It didn’t get you out of bed in the morning or light a fire under your skin in excitement. You did it because it was what people wanted for you and because you liked to win, you liked how people talked about you when you won.
Sunghoon was a breath of fresh air from the pressure, he never cared if you won or lost, in fact he didn’t want you winning half the time.
He didn’t talk to you like you were a project, a robot prodigy who didn’t have room for love or care and he didn’t walk on eggshells around you like you were some royal princess needing only the best treatment.
You wouldn’t sit here and tell Sunghoon you knew how he’s felt all these years, you wouldn’t lie and say you’d been pining over him too and it has always been set in stone for you but a large part of you feels like maybe you knew it all along.
“I can’t say.” You answered honestly even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “But I am here now Sunghoon.”
You felt his hands tensing against your sides, instinctively squeezing like he was worried you’d disappear now. You wanted to ask him the things you should have years ago, you wanted to know why he lived alone and how long he’s come back to this empty room after hours of hard practice.
You felt guilty again for missing the signs. His familiarity at a random diner, clearly frequently there alone. Always being at the rink at random times like nobody was expecting him home or worried he was overworking himself.
Another part of you was relieved now, holding this knowledge tightly with the determination to change this and be there for him regardless if you yourself were considering not returning to the ice.
“I should’ve told you sooner.” He was saying and shaking his head. It was strange seeing him so self deprecating.
“You told me now.” You affirmed and one of your hands slid up his chest to hold his face, making him look at you and see the sincerity in your eyes. “I know now and I didn’t go anywhere.”
He nodded and you were worried he was going to cry, eyes shaking as he looked down at you and leaned into your touch against his cheek.
So you did the one thing you could think of, the thing you were practically craving only a few hours earlier, and you surged forward on your toes to kiss him.
He was taken back by your sudden proximity, tensing up when he felt your lips against his and then more so when you rocked back onto your flat feet and awkwardly waited for him to say something.
His mouth parted a few times like he was going to speak but after a second or two passed his eyes were hardening with that familiar determination and he was kissing you.
Kissing you with a desperation of somebody who’d been thinking about it for a long time, hands sliding behind your back to pull you closer and tighter against him.
You smiled against him, his mouth sliding against yours as he kissed you deeper. Your hand that was on his face went to his hair and you felt a shudder run through him at the feeling.
He pulled back to look at you, pressing his forehead against yours like he did in the car and breathing heavily as he looked down at you.
“I love you.” He rushed it out like it was his only chance to say it and then immediately shut his eyes tight like he was embarrassed. “You don’t need to say anything back I just needed to finally say it out loud to someone other than my grandma.”
“Are we going to talk about your grandma everytime you’re about to kiss me?” You laughed and he smiled at you, squeezing your front against him.
“No definitely not.” And he kissed you again.
——
The next week was probably the most stressful of your entire life, which was pretty impressive considering how your childhood and early adult years were basically one big intense competition.
Having to tell not only your coach for the last decade that you were quitting, but also your mother, was probably scarier than any stunt you could attempt.
Coach Suzy, as it turns out, seemed to be expecting it and told you that she was planning to retire once this year’s competitions were over. She apologized for being so harsh on you at times and especially for losing her temper due to her own stress and insecurities.
You forgave her and wrapped her in a tight hug but you could feel Sunghoon glaring at her from behind your back.
Sunghoon had been beyond helpful during the process, both legitimately with the paper work it required and removing yourself from data and emotionally. It wasn’t easy to admit to yourself you were done doing the only thing you’d ever been good at.
“You’re good at lots of things.” He was telling you for probably the tenth time this week. You were laying in his bed, hand in his as he played with your fingers.
You’ve learned a lot about him with all the time you’ve been spending, not everything of course but every new bit of information was exciting to you. You liked seeing him in different moods and settings, this one being your favorite.
You liked him best like this, his now dark hair messily splayed against his pillow, still smelling like sleep and the coffee on his bedside table. You liked the way his fingers sleepily played with the shirt you were wearing, which was of course his, and tugged on it.
“Yeah but I don’t know what.” You were sighing and rolling onto your stomach so you could look at him directly
He was smiling at you with a lazy toothy grin, sitting up just a little against the headboard to be able to see your face better. He leaned his head back and shrugged.
“You never had a chance to be good at something else, it doesn’t mean you’re not princess.” You flushed at his casual words and he noticed, leaning down to kiss your head and laugh. “I knew you liked that.”
“Shut up.” You were grumbling and resting your chin on his chest once he sat back again. “Maybe I did a little but I almost gagged the first time it made me blush.”
He was letting out a throaty laugh and you felt your face vibrate as his chest moved making you laugh quietly with him. He looked pretty like this and you liked the way his dark hair looked, having gone so long without seeing it.
Your tired laughs naturally died down and you turned your head so your cheek was on his chest instead, feeling him breathe and listening to his heart pick up in speed every so often.
“Will you come with when I talk to my mom?” You weren’t embarrassed at the childish hint in your voice, knowing he’d understand why this was way scarier than the other parts.
“Anything for you.” He was still smiling at you but he sounded serious, hand in your hair now as he played with it and kept it out of your face.
It made your stomach flip when he said it because you knew he meant it. He’d been beyond caring and helpful even letting you stay with him, doing quick stops at your apartment after you’d made sure your moms car wasn’t around so you could get some clothes and necessities.
He didn’t seem to mind the company at all, always smiling at you in the mornings and when he came home from the rink to the sight of you on his couch watching a movie or doing the dishes in the kitchen.
He’d even taken you to see his grandma a few more times. He really did mean it when he said he went every day, only missing a single night when it all hit you and you couldn’t stop crying. You felt awful the next morning he’d stay with you and begged him to apologize to her for you when he asked you to come along.
She had a soft knowing smile when you walked in behind him, patting her bed for you to sit and giving you advice on what to say to your mother.
“She’s your mother honey, she’ll love you no matter what you choose to do.” She had whispered to you and you felt your heart crack with the knowledge that wasn’t quite true.
“Her moms a lot like dad.” Sunghoon was mumbling from behind you, he was standing with his hands on your shoulder as you sat on the bed. You weren’t quite sure what that referred to but his grandmas mouth parted in understanding.
“Then there’s nothing you can do.” Her sharp flip in opinion made you glance back at Sunghoon. He gave you a look like he would explain later and you hesitantly looked away. “You can’t live for her, there’s no right there. You need to live for yourself and accept that relationship as a loss.”
You were replaying her words in your mind on a loop as you stood outside your door, suddenly feeling like a stranger who needed to knock before entering. It was never homely but this was the first time you truly realized how cold it felt here.
You knew Sunghoon was right behind you, giving you some space incase you were overwhelmed or felt like you needed to change your mind, but you reached your hand back for confirmation and took a deep breath when you felt his warm hand in yours.
Waiting with baited breath, your knuckles stung from the knocks against the door. You were bouncing your foot anxiously and counting each second before she opened the door.
For just a split second you saw shock and relief pass over her face before it was twisting up in anger and disgust.
“How dare you come here?” She was spitting towards you and you wanted to flinch back away from her, holding your resolve and letting her finish her comments. “And with him of all people.”
When she turned her murderous gaze towards Sunghoon, something was set off in you and you stepped to the side to block him from her view with a glare. She seemed taken back by this, used to you being paralyzed by guilt and fear.
“If you’re here to apologize I don’t want to hear it.” She hissed at you after the shock passed, her anger only building now at your defiance.
“I have nothing to apologize for.” You spat back at her, stuttering slightly with anxiousness. You felt Sunghoon squeeze your hand in his and take a step closer to you and you took a deep calming breath before continuing with a stronger tone. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m here to get my stuff and then we won’t have to see each other again.”
You weren’t sure where this came from, not having made any plans with Sunghoon to stay with him longer. A wave of insecurity hit you at the idea you were overstaying your welcome and he was going to deny you, leaving you with no choice but to find somewhere else to stay with. You had some distant family but you can’t imagine they’d be too ecstatic about taking on an adult with no job.
“And where on earth are you planning to go.” Your mother did what she did best and caught sight of your insecurity, magnifying it with a knowing sneer. “Nobody will want you, ‘ex prodigy’ won’t get you in anywhere.”
“She’s staying with me.” Sunghoon’s voice came from over your shoulder and you felt his front press against you, his hand on your shoulder to steady you. He was having a hard time seeing you like this, anger surging through him as he watched you go weak from fear.
“I want her and she can stay for as long as she needs to. We are just here to get her stuff, like she’s already told you.” His voice was hard and dark, your moms eyes flashing up at him with angry eyes as he spoke so firmly.
She didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you almost thought she’d turn you away and leave you with absolutely nothing to your name. Eventually, however, she took a step to the side of the doorway and waved the two of you in.
Sunghoon gave you a loaded glance once you were in your living room, you nodded at him and he made his way down the hall to your room while you stayed back with your mother.
“I see he knows his way around.” She scoffed at you and glared at his back as he walked away.
“It’s my house too.” You muttered back at her. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“He ruined you.” She barely let you finish your sentence before she was snapping at you, a finger being raised and pointed in your face. “This is all his fault.”
“This is your fault.” You felt tears well up in your eyes again and shook your head. “If you stopped being a coach and tried being my mother for just one second you would’ve realized that before it was too late.”
“You think he’ll keep you around?” She was twisting her face with a nasty sneer as she took another step towards you. “Regardless how I feel about him, that boy is talented. You think he’ll want you even when he’s an Olympic winner and you’re working a part time job?”
You knew she was wrong, that everything she was saying was so out of Sunghoon’s character and would disgust him just at the thought. But her ability to look into the deepest part of you and see your darkest fears caused you to tense up.
“He loves me.” Was all you could bring yourself to say, willingly him to hurry up and come back out here so the two of you could leave already.
“Yeah, love.” She laughed at the word like the idea of anybody loving you was ridiculous. “You don’t think I loved you? You think this was all for me… that I wanted to be a mean coach.”
She didn’t seem to notice her own contradictions, calling herself your coach right after saying she had loved you. She was getting angry again, wanting to continue this argument and prove you wrong. You were exhausted of it, knowing what Sunghoon’s grandma said was completely right.
“You didn’t love me.” Your voice was firm and certain, leaving no room for denial. “But not because of anything I did wrong.”
You saw Sunghoon over her shoulder, waiting in the hallway with a few boxes and a backpack over his shoulder. He was trying not to listen in on your conversation but also seemingly ready to step in.
He caught your eye and you smiled at him, despite your teary eyes, he could tell you felt relieved and that you were ready to move on from this part of your life. There was no right path here, and in skating, and that was okay.
Your mother didn’t say anything else, not even when he came over to you or when you held the door for him so he didn’t drop any of your boxes. She didn’t close the door after you’d left and you didn’t look back at her as she watched you get in his car and drive away from the only home you’d known.
“I don’t actually have to stay with you if it’s not okay.” You were whispering while he drove. “Thank you for saying it though, saved me from a lot of embarrassment.”
He looked over at you like you’d gone crazy, frowning and shaking his head. He was taking a hand off the wheel and grabbing your still shaky one that was resting on your knee.
“Of course you can stay with me princess.” His voice was serious but warm and you squeezed his hand in yours, suddenly overwhelmed with care and affection.
Maybe not the only home.
#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fanfiction#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon drabbles#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon angst#sunghoon ice skating#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smut#sunghoon
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
i don’t know if I’m allowed to ask right now and feel to ignore this but I just really like your shit so here I am :D
anyway
I love the thought of Fanny being the ghost king and the crown not fitting on his head so it falls to his neck line where it hangs off his neck and is either the spikes(idk what the call the pointed bits-) are short enough to see his face or they are thin enough to see though and then when he’s in his human from the crown turns into a black neck tattoo that’s really pretty and stuff!! So imagine this, Danny in Gotham and he’s a singer for Penguin and some rouges or something and he’s irritated so instead of running he continued to sing and it actually sways the course of the fight in favor of his allies while the enemies ears or like bleeding or something as his hair turns white and his eyes go green as the crown shins around his neck and let’s say that his outfit is quite androgynous and nice looking but he’s really pissed because it was a gift and it got damaged or bled on and this starts a rumor that Danny is a meta so the bats and birds go to investigate
Hope you like it and do a little Drabble :)
They hear about the Siren for the first time after a bit of trouble happens to go down in Old Man Rob's. At first, they were a little shocked that anyone would dare give Rob any sort of trouble, seeing as it was a general unwritten role to leave the old man who made clothes for the working girls/boys and for the Gotham Rouges well enough alone.
His work was so well appreciated that the Rouges would even send their minions to outfit them with the standard hire goon outfit. Joker swears by his purple cloth that only Rob could make his men look good.
Old Man Rob made the clothes right out of his home, so anyone who went to him would have a hot cup of tea and soft music from Rob's home country playing in the background. Everyone agreed that Old Man Rob's was welcoming and neutral grounds.
So imagine the uproar when some stupid out-of-city punks attempted to follow some working girls into the house and trash the place. The girls had taken refuge with Old Man Rob after realizing the punks were much more dangerous than they first thought.
When Rob tried to defuse the situation, things turned ugly as one of the men punched the old man to the ground- injuring his back. They had then attempted to take the screaming girls, gone about the house for anything valuable, and smashed everything that wasn't with a bat.
That's when Siren walked in. The androgynous being looked around before throwing themselves onto the men like the snaring mystical creature they earned their name from.
Siren had taken care of the men and had even had them hand-delivered to Penjuin when the supervillain caught wind that the fools were responsible for Rob not being able to complete his latest suit due to his back injury.
One of the working girls had texted her boyfriend, who was employed with Penguin, and that meant the Rouge, with a group of men, had rushed over to help not even ten minutes later.
Once everything was settled, Rob had enough time, as he was being transported to the hospital, to give Siren their outfit as a gift, and Penguin overheard the old man wishing Siren luck on his audition.
After a bit of question, Penguin gave Siren his card and told them to swing by the Iceberg Lounge for an audition if the one they were going to didn't work out.
That was all the Bats were able to gather from the last working girl, who is Jason's informate. Since Siren had no other known sighting, the Bats let them fade into obscurity until rumors of a hot new singer began to feature at the Iceberg Lounge.
Their voice left hundreds of clubgoers memorized, even those who didn't often prefer slow seduction songs when going to the club. The Iceberg does have a more classy feel about it but Siren could make anyone stop for their voice.
Bruce thought it was wise to investigate the meta after rumors that Siren would often help security when someone got too rowdy by singing a tone that could make human ears bleed. So far, there wasn't much information past rumors, and Penguin hadn't made the singer a member of his crime yet, but it was only a matter of time.
No one that powerful could remain neutral with the company they kept.
That's why Dick, Cas, and Jason all dressed to the nines and visited Iceberg Lounge with Brucie Wayne's unlimited credit card. They are treated VIPs- as the Lounge is a legitimate business despite everyone knowing the owner is Penguin- and are seated right before Siren's stage.
The lights drop, and the music tickles to a stop so the live band can get into place. Dick adjusts his cuffs, presses the record button on the hidden video camera on the metal, and leans on his hands to point it to the stage.
They are all wearing earplugs, hoping to stop Siren's powers, but it's better to have someone far away who won't be effect by the sound watching just in case the three get mind-controlled.
The singer who takes the stage is beautiful androgynous in everything from their outfit to their features, but none can deny their beauty of them. They stand in a shimmering black suit resembling a modern king attire, with a half veil dripping from their shoulders. A particular ice crystal snowflake design tattoo circles their neck in a breath-catching upturn of their head.
Once Sirens opens their mouth in the first verse, Cass can understand why the mythical creatures could lure sailors to their water deaths. The voice is as beautiful as the singer, and she can't look away.
She rises with the tempo, falls with the beat, and flouts into the rhythm of Siren's voice. It's not until the singer descends the stage to sing to the lucky few upfront does she realizes she has forgotten why she came here tonight.
Jason carefully presses his foot against her, and she struggles to take her eyes off Siren to look at her bother. His face is relaxed and cocky, like the wealthiest man son can be, but his body language screams worry.
Worry for her.
Shoot, had she allowed herself to fall under Siren's spell?
The singer struts back to the stage, arms raised before slowly lowering on the last long memorizing note, and the lights drop. She clasps politely along with the rest, her heart fluttering.
"That was amazing!" Dick cheers, whistling like a loon. His civilian persona does resemble Brucie the most. "Encore! Encore!"
Siren looks at their table with a bashful smile, and Cass's heart falls. Before she can do anything knowing what that means, the doors to the lounge get blown right off the hinges, and screams erupt through the room.
A rival gang is tearing through the room. Cass hits the ground with her brothers, mentally cursing they can't blow their cover as the thugs quickly round up hostages. One grabs Siren's veil, ripping it right off as the singer tries to run. The action causes them to trip over the stage's long walkway before falling into a table stacked with wine glasses.
She fights to urge to scream when Siren falls. Cass needs to focus on finding a place to change and get control of the situation. Siren could be hurt, they could be-
"You asshole!" The siren screams, standing up and neck tattoo flaring a bright blue. "You ruined my suit!"
The man scoffs, pointing a gun at their head "So what? It couldn't be that expensive for Penguin's little plaything to offered."
"It was a gift!" The siren screams in a sound voice as cold as ice and as unforgiving as death. Cass feels the air freeze over, and suddenly, Siren is signing. But it's not the sweet song from before; now, it's a dead melody that promises death.
She presses herself against the floor more, trying to escape the sound. Her heart is beating so fast that she wonders if she is dosed with Fear Toxin. Cass doubts the others are fairing better as sobs break through the room.
The man holding the gun drops to his knees, screaming and clutching his ears.
Siren remains standing, hair bleeding into white, eyes a blazing green, and his neck tattoo expanding into a crown that seems to cover the lower half of their face. It's a beautiful sight as much as it is terrifying.
Cass can't look away.
Just as quickly as it started, the signing ends when the man falls unconscious and Siren looks human again. They fret over their suit uncaring of the stares from the rest of the club, and make their way to the changing room without a by-your-leave.
Cass is in love.
"We have to report this to B," Jason hisses. "That was Lazaurs Wails."
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#The Siren of Iceberg Lounge#requests#dead silent#Danny is androgynous goals#Nonbinary Danny#Ghost King Danny#They just want to sing bro let them sing
775 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi If you still do recuest's for twst
Can I recuest's the dorm leaders x GN!reader that is like the mad hatter?
Madhatter Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
You’re wild and wacky with a love for tea and making hats. You’re never in one place long mentally and physically. Your suitors are often left to question everything when you seem to tip and top off the thin line of sanity:
Malleus Draconia
“Hi Hi Horns have you burped towards the roses today?”
“Roses? Do you mean the ones in Heartslaybul? And would that be polite? To burp on them?”
He’s the perfect accessory to your insanity
He’s plenty gullible to listen to you
even when your requests border that morale of good and evil
He’s usually picking you
His eccentric little lover
There’s never a dull moment with you by his side
He starts having a problem though when there are others sitting in on your tea parties
His rainstorms don’t necessarily mean the absolute end when it comes to you
But they usually do for your unsuspecting participants
You’re so wonderful for him
He can’t let anyone enjoy his human as much as he does
“My child of man, may we do my head fitting? I’d love to feel you soft pads against my scalp.”
Kalim Al Asim
“What are you doing (Y/n)-chan?”
“I am stretching for the annual beetle festival.”
“Beetle festival? Can I join?”
“You may but you have to eat a lady-bug first.”
“Okay!”
You guys are like kids in a candy shop
For Kalim, he never thinks to question your sanity
You're just an exciting person
He soon finds himself supplying whatever you need to fulfill your shenanigans
And something nasty creeps up when someone (Jamil) tells you to stop
“I can make it so we can finish our tea party….by ourselves this time.”
Idia Shroud
“Come on Fireplace! Drink this tea!”
“B-but you b-brewed that in your hat…!”
“Yes that’s how you’ll know it’s sanitary!”
“Y-you’re weird.”
“Why thank you!”
He just thinks you’re the weirdest person he’s ever met
At first, he thinks its really just fascination
With the way, you randomly dance in the direction of the cameras that were supposed to be secret
That you were different just like him
And he thought just being allies was good enough
But now he’s plotting the demise of the normie that decides to dance along with you
“There aren’t many who can handle people like us! That’s why I can’t let anyone else have you.”
Riddle Rosehearts
“Let the unbirthday party begin!”
“(Y/n), hands should be out. Elbows off the table.”
“Whoopie did you see this dessert!”
“I did now sit in your seat.”
He has a weird ability to govern you
No one understands it
He barely understands it
But you two mostly get along
He often knows how to speak your language
Something that many seem to struggle with
But he’s the go-to person to reign you in
That’s just the way he likes it+
“Come (Y/n) you’re a good hatter. I need one for our teaparty this evening. Make it.”
Vil Schoenheit
“You’re sense of style is certainly unique.”
“Thanks the cobwebs were my latest addition!”
“What!? Cobwebs that can’t be healthy!”
“Oooh a hat made of cake!”
He thinks you're cute but he worries your lack of sanity leads you to make bad decisions
Like having hats with holes for nonexistent limbs
As well as your affinity for drinking tea for a meal
And probably worst of all being friends with potatoes who can’t handle you
Which is why Vil’s here
“Didn’t you read the schedule? We’re having tea, tonight so leave those potatoes behind.”
Leona Kingscholar
“Its time for the puppy hat party!”
“...Will you stop, I’m trying to sleep!”
“But it’s time for the party!!!!”
“I’m going to kill you.”
He thinks you're so cute
But he loves it most when you card your hands through his hair while fitting his head for a hat
But part of your insanity has you being quite energetic
Which clashes with his love for sleep
So he might meddle a little with the tea you seem addicted to it
So he might slip something in
To make sure he gets his snuggly hatter in his bed
“Come on Herbivore you seem exhausted. If you’re not that tired you can fit me for a hat.”
#yandere leona kingscholar#yandere leona x reader#yandere leona kingscholar x reader#yandere leona#yandere vil x reader#yandere vil schoenheit#yandere vil twst#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle x reader#yandere riddle roseheart x reader#yandere riddle#yandere malleus draconia#yandere malleus x reader#yandere malleus#yandere kalim al asim#yandere kalim x reader#yandere kalim#yandere twst dormleaders#yandere idia shroud#yandere idia shroud x reader#yandere idia x reader#yandere idia
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
day 9, sesshomaru: ruts
kinktobruary day 9
sesshomaru x reader // inuyasha
—sesshomaru has been acting strange lately. the last thing he needs is your oblivious questions.
tw/cws: knotting, ruts, dubcon, sesshomaru being too horny to have self-respect
It is troublesome, this burning heat. It stirs, just beneath the surface of his skin, coils between his muscles. It calls to him, urges him to find a warm body, to mount it. His claws elongate as he observes the heat diffusing from his palm. Hm. Even a demon of high caliber such as himself is powerless to nature’s calling.
Much less… his thoughts began to drift to you, his very human companion. There are things he wants to do to you, thoughts that he’s repressed in the past that come snarling towards him, breaking out of their cage. He frowns. This won’t do.
—
“Gosh, Sesshomaru really has been cranky all day, huh,” you remark, after the third time he’s evaded your presence. His silence and occasional ignoring is something you’re used to, but not him outright using his demonic speed to dash seven paces away from you.
Jaken shushes you urgently, glancing fearfully towards his master. “Lord Sesshomaru is going through a… difficult period.”
You frown. You disappeared to the modern era for a few days to sort through your college midterms, and when you came back, Sesshomaru was in this bristly mood. You can’t help but think you’re missing something.
“Is it Inuyasha?” You ask lowly, knowing all too well of his tumultuous relationship with his brother. “Does it have to do with his father?”
“No, and no, you daft human,” Jaken nags.
You’re more than used to Jaken’s insults. “Okay, so…. what’s up with him?”
The imp glances eyes you, before quickly changing the subject. Your frown deepens as you finish bending the stems to Rin’s flower crown, before calling her over and placing it on her head. While she chatters excitedly to you, you find your gaze straying to Sesshomaru’s tense form in the distance, just far enough where he can still keep an eye out for enemies, but not too close to your group.
Whatever his problem is, you would get it out of Jaken some way.
—
You just don’t anticipate how you will.
Sesshomaru’s been acutely avoiding any and all interactions with your group all day. It’s almost as if he’s a specter, lurking just outside of your field of vision. Except whenever he does get closer, you’re overwhelmed by a sense of—bloodlust? Malice? Something that simmers with intensity. You can’t quite pinpoint it, and whenever you ask Jaken, he seems to evade your question. Whatever it is, it sends shivers down your spine.
When you set up camp for the night, he disappears entirely.
Your thoughts are plagued by worries for him, and you fall into a fitful sleep. What could possibly be causing him to be so on edge all day? You’re stirred into consciousness by something brushing against your nose. Your face scrunches up, and when you open your eyes, you see a flash of silver hair, curtaining your view, the same wave of bloodlust—
“Sesshomaru?” Just as his name leaves your mouth, his presence is gone in a flash, the air around you stirred. You sit up, glancing towards the direction of his after-image.
You weigh your options. Jaken did say he was going through a difficult time…. but you aren’t sure what is troubling him. Maybe it’s a demon thing? Should you really risk getting your head bitten off?
Against your better judgement, you go searching for him. Sure, he’s a big, bad demon, but something is clearly bothering him. And as his.... friend—as loathe as he is to admit it—you can’t just leave him be.
What you are not expecting is to see Sesshomaru hunched over by a tree as if in pain. You call out his name, running towards him, but are stopped by a feral snarl as he turns towards you, his eyes flashing red.
“Leave. Now.”
“What’s wrong? I—”
As you approach closer, you notice several things. His claws are sunk into the tree, the poison leeching from it and decaying the bark. The markings on his face are fiercer, more striking, and his fangs protrude from his lips. His eyes flash more and more red with every moment; he looks every bit a wild animal. But, and perhaps the most scandalous of all, he grips his cock in one clawed hand, erect and red, and apparently he was jerking off.
You try not to stare, you really do, but your eyes instinctively dart down there as you feel heat creep to your cheeks at the position you’ve caught him in.
His hand has stopped moving, but his cock stands throbbing, looking painfully erect. You gulp.
“You’re just a mere human. You wouldn’t understand—”
“You’re… horny,” you state, blandly.
“Human—” His eyes flash dangerously.
“You’re...” Your mind flashes through possibilities. Sesshomaru seems unable to control his... not bloodlust, but carnal lust. He is a dog demon, which means.. he could possibly be... “In a... rut?”
He stills. A vein pops out in his jaw, his fangs seeming even more prominent.
“I… I studied this in school. Once.” Freshman biology, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Do you need—” You’re not sure what you’re asking him. What does he need? A hole? A demonness to fuck?
This is awkward. His eyes follow you like a predator, that wave of lust washing over you again. You stifle a shiver.
“Before your arrival,” he says suddenly, the piercing quality of his words startling you. “I had no such issues dealing with these… urges. But now, they are quite...” His claws dig into the bark further, and the bark snaps. “Incorrigible.”
“Oh.” You blink. “I’m… sorry?”
“This is partly your doing,” he growls.
“Uh-huh...”
“I... am tempted to ask you to fix it.”
This is where your brain grinds to a halt, your jaw dropping. His sharp gaze hones in on the way your mouth opens enticingly, and you notice, snapping it shut. “I—you want me to—”
He makes a frustrated growl in the back of his throat. “Disregard that.” And then he’s stalking away, each step seeming painful, emphasized even more by the engorged flesh sticking out of his pants.
“W-Wait, Sesshomaru—”
He’s on you in a flash, before you can even blink, and you freeze. “I suggest—” The warmth of his breath washes over you, and this close you can feel just how hot he’s running, his entire body diffusing heat. “That you don’t—call me—like that—”
“Like what?” you blurt out. “I’m just saying your name.”
His lip curls over his fangs. His eyes clench in frustration. You seem to be testing the limits of his patience.
“Sesshomaru, what—”
In a flash, he’s pressing you against another tree, and his lips are claiming yours. There’s nothing gentle about it, his fangs digging into your lip. You flinch when you feel blood trickle down your chin, and he snarls at the taste of it, before pulling away.
“For one of the less idiotic humans, you can be quite obstinate.”
“I’m...” You blink, dazed. “Sorry?”
His mouth is claiming yours again, his chestplate pressing you into the bark. You feel the heat of his cock pressed up against your thigh, and you shudder at the sensation. It’s hitting you now.
Sesshomaru, one of the most ethereally beautiful people you’ve seen, the most powerful demon in the Feudal Era, wants to... he’s this frenzied up because of... because of you. You, an average human.
Your thigh nudges against his length, and he breaks the kiss to snarl, his fangs lowering to graze your collarbone. Your breath hitches, and one, clawed finger comes up to shred your shirt. You yelp as the cold air hits you only to be devoured by the heat of his mouth on your skin. His fingers claws through the material of your bra, and you yelp again.
“Hey, that was one of my favorites!” you say, indignant. He scoffs, his mouth suctioning over the give of your flesh possessively.
You moan, arching into his touch, as you stare down at him. You don’t dare touch his silver hair, afraid of how he may lash out on you, but your hands do come up to his shoulders, tugging the fabric.
You tense when one of his fingers lowers itself to your hip, and then he’s ripping the panties and skirt off in one clawed swipe.
“We really... have to talk about you ruining all my clothing,” you say, weakly, your affront tempered by his actions.
He scoffs again. “You won’t need such flimsy things in just a moment.”
“Ah...”
His finger slides against your slit, collecting your release, as you writhe against his touch. He’s aware of the softness of your flesh in comparison to his demon claws so he doesn’t do anything much other than rub his finger back and forth along you. He growls once he’s satisfied with the amount of slick coating your area, before leaning back and aligning the his cock to your entrance.
“A-ah wait—“ Your eyes widen at his considerable length; you’re not nearly ready to take him in. But then he’s canting his hips forward, not penetrating you, but sliding his cock along your slick till he reaches your ass cheeks. He continues this rocking motion, his lips pulled back in a snarl. You moan, dropping your head back, before wincing as it hits the unyielding bark. His hand comes up to cradle your head. “Thanks,” you murmur.
His sharp gaze is fixated on the way his length slides against you, and rubs against your slick; the way your arousal gleams on his shaft under the moonlight.
His hips begin to rock faster now, a growl building up in his throat. You wince at the dig of his armor against your bare skin, gripping his shoulders as you attempt to find some grounding.
You feel his cock throbbing insistently against you, his pre-ejaculate mixing with your arousal to make for an easy slide against you.
He growls, his eyes narrowing. His grip digs into your hip as his thrusts become choppier. You get the sense he’s frustrated.
“Do you want to... put it in?”
His gaze flashes up to you, surprise in the bleeding red, as you continue. “I... that’ll help abate your rut right? I don’t mind... you using me.”
You have little else you can say, because Sesshomaru sheathes himself inside you in one thrust. You gasp, your eyes clenching at the feel of him stretching you to your limits.
“Ever heard of a... a warning?” you manage to choke out.
He shows no mercy, his hips ruthlessly pounding into yours once given the go ahead. It’s clear Sesshomaru is losing his grip on rule or reason now, his eyes maintaining their blood-red state. You wince as his elongated claws press into the meat of your waist. He fucks you like he takes down foes: with ruthless precision. Once his cock hits that spot that has you keening against him, he begins hammeringinto it, and your eyes began to water at the sheer intensity and rapidness at which your pleasure is mounting.
At the sight of your tears, however, he seems to slow down. His tongue darts out to lick them off your face, and he’s observing you, before his thrusts slow to a leisurely lull. When the palm of his hand comes down to press against your clit, the stimulation, combined with the way his cock is plunging into you in long, deep thrusts, has you writhing against him.
“S-Sesshomaru—”
You feel something bulbous forming at the base of his cock, stretching you wider, and you look down. Protruding from his cock is a thick knot, and you gulp once you realize that’s going into you.
You’re approaching your end. He snarls as you tighten around him, both his hands gripping your hips to him now, as your walls clench around him, nearly trapping his cock with their grip.
Sesshomaru thrusts once before pressing deep inside you, a throaty grunt tearing from him. You shiver as you feel copious amounts of warmth seep into you, and it remains inside you due to the knot plugging you up. The moment seems to stretch on forever, his hips jerking into yours in minute movements, and then it’s over.
The two of you are stuck together. You shift only to wince once it jerks at his knot. He grunts, keeping your hips in place.
“Sorry,” you say. And then, when a few more minutes have passed, and the two of you are still in the same position, you ask, “Ah, when can we.... detach?”
Sesshomaru grunts. “Once it deflates.”
“Ah... and when will that be?”
He shifts. “This Sesshomaru is claiming you as his. It will take awhile.”
“Ah, okay—wait, what?”
He presses you closer to him, and you rest your head against his chest. While the feel of cooling cum usually is gross, the heat of his body keeps you warm and feeling full. His clawed fingers gradually begin to trail through you hair. After several minutes that seem to stretch into eons, the bond keeping you to him diminishes, and you shiver when you feel some of his spend trickle down your thigh.
Instead of the hard flesh inside you softening, however, it stays stiff. You still, glancing up at him to see his markings still vibrant, his red eyes glowing distinctly.
“Did you really think we were done, human? The Demon Lord of the West surely does not possess such a meager drive.”
—
The next morning, you come up with some half-assed excuse to Rin about why you’re wearing a kimono from the local seamstress, and not your usual outfit. And why you can’t seem to walk anymore, and Sesshomaru has to carry you everywhere.
“(Y/N) must have fallen and hurt themselves.” She giggles.
“Yes, Rin... on a very large... stick.” Sesshomaru’s claws dig into your backside in warning. “I mean—tree branch.”
“Silly (Y/N)! It’s a good thing Lord Sesshomaru is around to take care of you.”
(Meanwhile, Jaken has yet to be seen since he encountered the two of you this morning. He’s too busy cleansing his eyes and nose out in a lake.)
#sesshomaru x reader#inuyasha x reader#inuyasha imagine#sesshomaru imagine#tati writes#not sfw#kinktobruary
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
perhaps you've heard this before...
Summary: Assigning some trope dynamics/situations to the Fontaine guys! Gender neutral reader as usual.
Characters: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney
Back in a time when Neuvillette was still in his draconic form, you were a healer living in the outskirts who came across a mysterious creature that seemed to have an injury on its leg.
Suffice to say, Neuvillette was not open to a random stranger approaching him at the time, eyeing you warily as you did what you could to wrap up the wound. A glance was shared at the awkward bandaging, having used all your gauze because of his sheer size, before you sighed and backed away, giving Neuvillette a look that said “Don't run away, I’ll be back.”
And back you were, with proper medicine and an odd concoction that soothed pain. When you were satisfied you gave him a pat on his other leg and told him it should heal up soon. He didn’t place much expectations on the works of a human healer, but surprisingly enough it did recover sooner than he expected. Perhaps it was because it wasn’t a serious injury, but you seemed to be quite happy about it anyways.
From there started an odd friendship between Neuvillette and you, like passing neighbors that would sometimes share stories (you sharing the story, him wondering why you chose to speak to him instead of another human).
Who would’ve thought then that many years later, you’d be reincarnated as a citizen in the current Fontaine, and cross paths with Neuvillette again?
What first started as a sense of familiarity soon turned into recognition, when Neuvillette saw you speaking to some of the local children playing at the fountain. The way the sunlight seems to derive its glow from you… it’s quite hard to forget.
This time however you were a little intimidated by the Chief Justice speaking to you, even if he’d just found an excuse to do so after scaring off some thugs that attempted to take your wallet. Though Neuvillette did have to admit - it was quite amusing to see you more nervous about his presence than the thugs. It was a far cry from your meeting those centuries ago, even if he was the only one to remember it.
After you warmed up to him though, you were comfortable enough to act like you usually did. Once you asked Neuvillette to guess what you changed about your appearance, only to reveal that you’d worn a ribbon to match his, but on your wrist - inside of your sleeve.
At his note that he’d only see it if he invaded your space, you boldly replied that perhaps that’s what you were trying to get him to do. In that moment, the afternoon had suddenly turned very bright, as if the clouds just suddenly evaporated from the sky.
Is this what happens when the Hydro Dragon gets flustered? You’re none-the-wiser, save for the way Neuvillette is pointedly trying to avoid your gaze.
You’re a reformed thief who now works under Wriothesley as part of your sentence (that is to say, you’re his all-purpose errand runner who already had a hand in things related to… the illegal sides of Fontaine, so this was a matter of resourcefulness on the court’s part.)
Though more often than not, Wriothesley says that you really don’t act the part of a criminal serving their time. Whenever you’re introduced to a newbie, you have fun saying you’re a detective, or assistant jailer, or some other job that doesn’t exist.
For all your evasive ways however, there was something about Wriothesley’s presence that seemed to ground you a little. Maybe it’s the way he manages to see through your lies, or the way he treats you the same no matter what atrocious things leave your mouth.
…Maybe it’s because you lack genuine malice. Maybe it’s because having grown up in a world where you didn’t fit in with the normal folk, nor the criminals, you found a bit of solace having a place to return to at the end of the day to Wriothesley and Waghild at headquarters.
…Not that you’ll ever say that outright. You’d rather retell the story of how you and Wriothesley met than confess something so vulnerable. (Read: you were trying to steal something from him, and he’d caught you by the wrist, immediately cornering you against the wall next to him. Suffice to say your heart nearly jumped out of your chest in more ways than one.)
‘You meet a charming stranger on the streets of Fontaine’, is how this retelling might go. But the first meeting in your eyes was simply a reunion in Lyney’s, who is the only one between you that remembers your encounter when you were still children, and you’d told him a story about a magician who could make flowers bloom from their fingertips, saying it was nothing short of a miracle.
Suffice to say, you were more than caught off-guard when Lyney asked you for your help during a street performance in the present time, and slipped a note into your pocket which told you to ‘follow the map’.
You recognised the Opera Epiclese as the X marked on the paper. As soon as you arrived, the map in your hands started to glow - seeming to take on a life of its own as it darted out of your hands and flew through the gap between the door, leaving you bewildered but intrigued as you followed its lead.
Through the entrance and the second pair of doors, the sound of Lyney’s voice echoed through the room. Was he rehearsing for a show?
The moment you opened the door to peek in however, you were immediately proven wrong by the seats that were occupied - VIP guests with a private show from Lyney and Lynette, with you somehow privy to it, grandiose lights, music and all.
The thing is, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Out of the corner of your eye the sentient map settles upon an empty seat at the back row before losing its magic, which held no other occupants (most of them populated the rows closer to the stage, private party and all).
From your peaceful place at the top, you sit quietly in awe at the impossible acts onstage. Flying birds, disappearing people, and the classic sawing-in-half trick that had the entire theater in stitches - it was safe to say that the twins commanded one's attention like no other.
As he closed up the show however, Lyney glanced up towards the rows where you sat, hidden away from the general view. Pleasantly surprised that his secret audience did in fact come to watch him, he wears a secretive smile as he bids the crowd farewell, making his leave.
The next minute, a breathless Lyney’s rushed to find you before you could leave. While the guests downstairs have just ended their time with the great magician, it seems that your evening with him has just begun.
#neuvilette x reader#lyney x reader#wriothesley x reader#genshin neuvillette#lyney genshin impact#wriothesley genshin#neuvilette x you#lyney x you#wriothesley x you#genshin x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin writing#genshin imagines#traveler wishes
640 notes
·
View notes
Text
you have a beautiful smile - draco malfoy x fem!reader
summary: Y/N is sunlight in human form, an absolute angel to be around. she’s always available to help out and treats everyone with kindness. draco malfoy should hate her, but he finds himself feeling quite the opposite.
taglist - add yourself here | warnings: none | wc: 1.5k
a/n: haven't written in a while, and this is my first draco fic, so please bear w me! lemme know what you think :) also my motivation to write draco is all bc of ms melli (@mellifluousart) who writes him wonderfully :)
Draco was eleven when he first saw Y/N. He had been so stupidly excited for Hogwarts that he had crashed his cart into hers on the platform. He immediately started to apologize, but Y/N beat him to it. And when he glanced up and met her eyes for the first time, he realized he wouldn’t have been able to say anything at that moment anyway.
Five years had passed since that first meeting, and Draco was preparing for his sixth year at school. He’d never forgotten you, but there hadn’t been many opportunities to even approach you. He’d heard of you around the school, of course. How could he not have? You were beloved, by teachers and students alike. Y/N L/N, prefect, outstanding student, and an avid volunteer around the school. Little did he know, you knew him too.
Draco had built quite the reputation for himself. He was the Slytherin prince, calculating, cold, and altogether untouchable. If you asked anyone, they would tell you that the two of you were on complete opposite ends of the spectrum.
Of course, none of this mattered to Professor Slughorn. In the first potions class of the year, a mixed group of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins, he managed to seat you right next to Draco. He would be your partner for projects until the end of the year.
“So, do you speak now?” you poke with a laugh, referring to your first meeting as you sit down next to him.
“Yeah,” he responds briefly, before returning to his notes. To be honest, he didn’t trust his own voice well enough to say anything more - you still had the same effect on him more than half a decade later.
—
Draco did not believe in perfection. He kept trying to catch you being fake, as if your kindness and constant positivity was a facade that he might one day spot slipping. But as you continued to work hard with him on projects, joking to lighten the mood, and displaying the same amount of compassion despite his cold responses, he just couldn’t spot a single flaw. And one day, you caught him off guard.
“Godric, Professor Slughorn’s hair looks like his namesake today…” you mutter, as you copy furiously from the blackboard. You hadn’t meant for anyone to hear it, but then you caught the boy next to you let out a snort. Your eyes widened; there was no way Draco Malfoy had just laughed?
You whip your head around, and Draco averts his eyes.
“You just laughed,” you state, a smile forming on your lips. “You just laughed at my joke.”
“Did not,” the boy denies, “I was just shocked that sunshine in human form could say something like that,” then he turns away so you can’t catch the smile that threatens to appear.
Your cheeks redden, and you scoff. “It wasn’t even mean!” you protest, “I find it rather fits him.”
From that day on, the two of you developed a more natural dynamic. Your conversations were no longer one-sided, and you found yourself growing to enjoy Draco’s sarcastic sense of humour and wit. You even got to know Blaise and Pansy, who were very eager to share some of Draco’s most embarrassing moments with you. Little did you know, these two had an ulterior motive.
–
“So, Y/N, huh?” Pansy prompts, glancing up at Draco with an act of nonchalance.
Blaise smirks, catching the tinge of pink that appeared on his friend’s cheeks.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pans, and she doesn’t either. You and Blaise need to shut it and stop poking your ugly heads into this.”
“Alright, alright. But just so you know, she likes you too,” Blaise replies, before striding to the staircase and heading up to his room.
Pansy nods, “She does, but I have no idea why… You’re utterly unlikeable!” she finishes with a cackle, and practically sprints to the girls dormitories, where she knows the blond boy can’t touch her.
And so, Draco was left all alone with his thoughts and a pounding heart, at 10pm in the Slytherin common room.
—
The upcoming week was Hogsmeade week. Draco and you had made plans to get some extra quills and ingredients you were missing for the latest potions assignment.
“So, how many first years did you scare today?” you greet him with a giggle, “Do I have any 11 year olds I need to comfort?”
Draco scowled, but his eyes crinkled, belying his happiness at seeing you. “Yeah right, it’s their own fault for standing in huge groups in the middle of the corridors. You think it’d kill them to walk on their own.”
You laugh openly, loud enough for a few scattered students to turn and look. And Draco can’t blame them, because he knows just as well how easily you catch the eye.
After making all the necessary stops, you spot an adorable new pop-up near Madam Puddifoot’s.
“Oh my GOD. A Build-A-Bear Workshop!” you squealed, and Draco makes a show of cringing and plugging in his ears.
You roll your eyes, smiling. “I haven’t made one of these in years. We absolutely HAVE to try it.”
Draco stops plugging his ears and his expression develops into one of horror. “No. No way in hell am I doing that. I have a reputation, Y/N. You are out of your min–”
You yank on his sleeve, pulling him along, not paying attention to a word of his rant.
“OW! How are you this strong, midget?! Fine!” the boy finally complies begrudgingly.
An hour later, the two of you exit the shop, you having made a bear with platinum blond fur and a slytherin uniform. Whenever you pressed its stomach, the bear would squeal out “do you know who I am?!” sending you into bouts of laughter at its resemblance to your friend.
Draco did not find this nearly as amusing as you did, but he was quite proud of his own bear. A brown one modelled after his favourite quidditch player.
“Admit it! You had lots of fun in there,” you confront, as you spot him fixing the collar of his bear’s robes.
The boy shakes his head, and immediately gives his stuffie to you, “yeah, if I were three years old… now you carry it. I can’t be seen carrying a stuffed bear.”
You roll your eyes, but gladly take the plush. It smells just like Draco.
—
Before you know it, February sneaks up on the Hogwarts students. You start spotting floating hearts and angels everywhere, courtesy of the professors.
However, you had yet to receive a single Valentine, which you found quite bizarre. Not that you were overly confident, but you had always received at least a few in past years. You decided not to dwell on it, however, not when the NEWTs were approaching.
Little did you know, several Valentines had been trying to make their way to you, but each had been stopped on their journey by a certain Slytherin boy. Whenever he spotted one with your name on it zipping along in the halls, he simply hexed it, and it would disintegrate. He also glared at anyone who looked at you, lower years and upper years alike. Eventually, people gave up; there was no use trying to compete with Draco Malfoy.
—
Then on the very last day of the week, February 14th itself, you were working on a potions project, when your partner suddenly walked in.
Draco looked nervous, almost. At least as close to nervous as you’d ever seen the Slytherin prince get… but then he pulled out a little velvet box with a satin ribbon on it, motioning for you to open it.
“Now, don’t make this weird, okay? I just saw this in the store and thought you’d like it,” he mumbles, lowering his head.
Carefully, you undid the ribbon and opened the box. Inside, there was an absolutely adorable necklace with a tiny silver bear. Your face lit up, and you hugged the tall boy. “It’s perfect,” you exclaimed.
Draco was absolutely flabbergasted, but he awkwardly returned the hug, patting your hair. “Want me to put it on?”
After he clasped the necklace, he held your shoulders and turned you around to face him. Almost unconsciously, Draco began to smile. A genuine smile that made him look like a 17-year-old boy instead of his ice-cold persona.
You marvelled at how happiness transformed your boy’s face, and you stared up at him for a long time, long enough for Draco to tilt his head in curiosity.
“Is there something on my face?” he inquires.
You shake your head. “No. No, I just… you have a beautiful smile. I think you should do that more. Smile, I mean,” you stumble over your words.
Draco chuckles, as a blush spreads over his face, painting his pale complexion. He leans in again, but instead of a hug this time, he quickly pecks your forehead. “Maybe. No promises though,” he whispers.
NO LONGER DOING TAGLISTS AFTER THIS FIC. FOLLOW @lovebirdupdates AND TURN ON NOTIFS INSTEAD!
taglist: @fallin-4-ya @mrs-brekker15 @izzyyy-1 @maybanksslut @iwritesiriusly @cory-was-hexed @slytherclawbitch @wwandavision @mrzweasley @1-800-amortentia @amelialupin-black @bolaurel @theincredibledeadlyviper @simp027 @myalupinblack @emma67 @riddikulusweasleys @amortentiaaaa @cloudywitchh @peachybaes @poony-madfoot @arianagreyy @teddy-cheol @calaryssia @potters-heart @1dpjohoohp @retvenkos @berrnuu @theoreticslut @kimsescapefromreality @jodibullock1 @the-romanian-is-bae @fandomhideout @ur-local-simp @sanctimoniousslytherpuff @what-am-i-doing10 @sunshinee-nana @nevillelongbottomlover-blog @annemagus @toffeetoast @fairysums @amordesiempre7-blog @justfritz @valentines-massacre13 @neilgf @plutooryectors @jorja-cameron @thatsthat @notfeelingsogoofy
#draco malfoy#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy imagines#draco malfoy fic#draco malfoy fics#draco malfoy oneshot#draco malfoy oneshots#draco malfoy reader insert#draco malfoy fluff#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x fem!reader#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x female reader#draco malfoy x y/n#fic#writing#wizarding world
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
I was wondering if you had recommendations for a game that evokes the vibe of like The Thing (or Among Us) from the social angle - there is something here passing itself off as human, as *one of us*, and we need to find out who it is. Maybe with hidden roles? It seems like there's a lot of interesting space to explore there.
Thank you!!
Theme: Hidden Role Games
Friend, I've got more games for you than I thought I was initially going to find, and each one is in a different setting! Enjoy!
What We Thought We Knew, by Mouse.
You play as a group of friends who have known each other for many years- at the very least since highschool, and have gone through many transitional phases with each other.
It has recently been revealed to you that someone in your friend group has not actually been there for all of these events- they have been implanted in the group for whatever reason and all your memories modified to fit them into the narrative. None of you know who it is -- not even the fake.
In order to find out who the fake is, you must experience some of your core memories together again, moving through them like you are those versions of yourselves again, to try and spot the mistakes in the memories, the distortions that don’t quite make sense in the context of everything else happening.
The hidden role in this game is as determined by the GM, and the fake will not know that they are the imposter at the beginning of the game. The setting for this game appears to be relatively agnostic, so you could make this a fantasy setting, a futuristic setting, or even a modern setting. Characters have four stats: Head, Heart, Flesh and Beyond. The game is designed off of Caltrop Core, so when you roll your dice according to stat, there’s graded successes/failures. Players will also get chances to identify a distortion, which helps the group figure out what pieces of information don’t add up.
If you want a game with mystery for almost everyone a the table, you might want to check out this game.
Jackrabbit Parole, by Willow Willis.
Well, you screwed up. Whatever you did, it was bad enough to land your ass in prison. Not just your average state-of-the-art correctional institution, either. This place is Bad News.
Parole? Don’t make me laugh. This is your life now. There’s no help coming for you and your fellow unfortunates. You’ll shit, sleep, work and eat when and where they tell you to for the rest of your miserable existence. If you want out, there’s only three paths:
Execution. Suicide. Or escape.
And since the first two don’t sound too promising, all you’re left with is jackrabbit parole.
Jackrabbit Parole is a game about prison escapees, one of which is a Snitch. The exact setting of the prison is up to you - the only thing that matters is that you’re stuck here unless you find a way to get yourselves out. You’ll roll to determine what your characters’ relationships are, and draw cards determine your roles.
There are two special roles: the Ringleader and the Snitch. The Ringleader has access to everywhere in the prison; the Snitch wants to get as much information as possible and pass it on to the guards. The Snitch profits by keeping everyone here, which means that players cannot communicate openly about their plans. The game plays over three acts, so I think it’s pretty easy to contain inside a single session, and it comes with some suggested settings if you’re not sure where to start.
Conspire, by Cherry Picked Games.
Conspire is a hidden-role storytelling game. Players delve into any moment of conflict, real or fake, and populate the scene with shady figures. They secretly assign objectives to these in-world characters and shuffle the roles amongst themselves. Everyone draws a role to inhabit and acts them out, not knowing who any of the others are or what they are trying to accomplish. What follows is an intense tale of bluffing, brokering deals, and shaping the very universe to your whims.
This feels like a GM-Less game, with all of the roles and motives of each character determined according to the setting and people created by the group at the table. Each piece of the puzzle is created collaboratively, so you’ll know what’s going on with one or two people, but not the whole picture. If you want a game that gives everyone the same responsibilities and has the flexibility to fit the settings in your head, this might be the game for you.
Eulogy of a Fool, by Kate.
In Eulogy of a Fool, all players are attending the funeral of a Fool. However, the Fool is in this crowd, having faked her own death to collect on a life insurance policy. Everyone in attendance must give a eulogy while the Fool tries to blend in and everyone else is trying to single out any suspicious persons.
This game consists of a series of cards, 20 of which are Identity cards, and 30 of which are relation cards. There will only be about as many cards in play as there are players for any given game, so I think having so many options allows for a different game every time you play. Each player will also have to give a eulogy about the deceased, using information given to all non-imposters, while the Fool will have to improvise as best as they can.
Looking at the instructions and prep for this game, I think this game would be very easy to learn. There’s a script for the GM to follow while running the game, and the cards make it easy to generate characters on the fly. If you want a game that’s part ttrpg, part card game, this might be the game for you.
EUREKA, by @anim-ttrpgs
Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is an original, fully fledged, 200-page 2d6 TTRPG from The Agency of Narrative Intrigue and Mystery inspired by The X-Files, Kolchak: The Nightstalker, and much more!
Eureka features investigation mechanics that let players take initiative, use their characters’ unique strengths to find clues, and deduce conclusions themselves rather than to just walking into a room and roll Investigate.
EUREKA’s main focus is on solving mysteries, but the way character creation is meant to be set up means that it is very likely that characters will have a lot of secrets, purposefully hidden from the rest of the group at game start. If you are playing a supernatural creature of some kind, your character will have plenty of reasons to keep their identity a secret. While the group is trying to solve whatever mystery there is, your characters will have to decide just how much they trust each—other, with dramatic reveals possibly prompting some thrilling and suspenseful moments. This game isn’t quite in it’s final form, but there’s a robust community currently play-testing it, and the folks behind the development are very eager to answer questions and help you get a game to the table.
Loyalty, by jackdawfactories.
You are the crew of a deep-space mining vessel who have just been awoken from stasis. You are coming in to land on a previously uncharted planet, and must investigate the nearby cave system for its utility to you - but of course, there’s more to it than that…
Loyalty is a game based on Ridley Scott’s Alien, and combines standard RPG mechanics with a hidden role aspect. Survive the horror you have unleashed while working out who - anyone - is the traitor in your midst.
This is a game in which more than one person could have a secret role. You draw a card from a regular deck of playing cards, and based on what kind of face you have, you are either an android infiltrator, or a human. Because the character creation is randomized, it’s totally possible to have an entirely human crew - but the players won’t know this, and thus the paranoia will still be present.
On top of this paranoia, you’ll be facing off against an alien, and the more you come up against it, the stronger it gets. There’s a win condition, a lose condition, and the possibility to eject a suspect out of an airlock. If you like heightened stakes and no good endings, this might be the game for you.
The Warmest Place to Hide, by Rosie.
The Warmest Place To Hide is a TTRPG homage to John Carpenter's The Thing.
It is the longest night in Antarctica, and something has made its way inside the research station at which you work. You and your teammates must work together to protect yourselves from assimilation - but when the creature can make itself look like anyone and anything, who can you really trust?
Create a base, populate it with crew, then see if you can survive an alien invasion.
This is the game for folks who want a direct re-creation of The Thing. As this is a Caltrop Core game, the rules are fairly minimal and use dice pools of d4’s. You can roll randomly for your character’s background, and choose an archetype that will give you specific skills and special abilities. You’ll also receive a random assignment of “Human” or “Something Else”. If you are Something Else, you always have to opportunity to take over any dead characters.
I’m not entirely sure how you communicate to players that they are Something Else without alerting the whole table; I’m assuming that this is the sort of game that involves passing a lot of notes. I think it might also be interesting if the GM introduces other threats that could kill players so that the Thing can approach and assimilate them without the players necessarily knowing who’s doing it.
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
A small smutty Raphael x reader blurb bc I couldn’t get the concept out of my head of Raphael flipping his SHIT when he shows up at his house of hope and haarlep is YOU and is making raphael supes jelly bc you were a VIRGIN and haarlep got to be your first
content: pov/2nd person, afab body parts, she/her pronouns (but used they/them for Haarlep in your form), devil sex, a smidge of masterbation&voyeurism, p-in-v
(if u like this, please feel so free to make requests, i cannot get enough of this mean old man)
*~*~*
“Your little mouse was quite the experience,” your voice oozed from Haarlep’s lips a sultry tone.
Raphael was seething, teeth bared and skin burning hotter than the Nine Hells. He had been lied to, stolen from, and the worst part of this: his little mouse had betrayed him so deeply, when he had been nothing but forthright and even gentlemanly.
Before he could spit out any animosities at the demon, Haarlep—you—continued, “She had the most delectably frightened look on her face… Most would jump at the chance to engage in such primal desires with an incubus, but her hesitancy revealed something much more… delicious…”
Raphael paused. Hesitancy to have otherworldly sex with a creature whose sole purpose is to arouse and seduce? You carried yourself so confidently, so brazenly, he never considered the fact that you might be—
“Did you know your little obsession was a virgin, Raphael?”
His blood hit its boiling point. He lunged at the incubus in his bed, grabbing Haarlep by the throat tightly. “You insolent swine!”
Haarlep continued to torment Raphael through strained wheezes, “Whatever could be the matter, master? You don’t want to hear about how timidly she removed her garments? You don’t want to know about how devastatingly wet she was to sully her virtue with an incubus who looked like you? She practically called out your name, Raphael.”
He almost threw Haarlep across the room, but when your form started to turn red in the face from the squeeze on your throat, he relented, dropping Haarlep onto the bed with disregard. Calming his face and containing the rage that boiled beneath the surface, he hissed out, “I should incinerate you where you stand.”
“But you won’t, will you, master? Not when I look so deliciously sweet like this,” Haarlep mused, running delicate fingers down the side of your naked frame. “She reeked so sweetly of innocence,” they purred, reaching your hand down between your thighs. They mimicked your wide, frightened eyes and flustered cheeks, mouth agape with pleasure never before experienced.
Raphael allowed himself to watch, to feast on Harleep’s false naïveté atop his silken sheets. Haarlep slid your other hand up towards your breast, kneading gently on the soft mound before swiping a thumb over your nipple, gasping softly. When your fingers became visibly slick from sliding between your folds, Raphael quickly grew agitated and impatient.
He caught fire and suddenly morphed into his natural form, wings splayed out in a menacing display.
“Oh, she quite enjoyed your devilish form, master,” your voice teased, whimpering pathetically when they slipped two of your small fingers inside of you.
Riled up, pissed off, and undeniably aroused, Raphael snapped his clawed fingers. His clothes were gone in an instant, and his raging erection was freed from the constraints of his breeches.
Haarlep played the part of a virgin, eyeing the ridged member with falsely scared eyes, but the excited glint gave away their acting. “Gods, your cock is ginormous!” your voice squeaked, “How will you ever fit that inside of me?”
“Haarlep, your acting is subpar,” Raphael said with an annoyed tone and an arched brow, “but do keep the innocent face, I find it quite entertaining.”
He approached the bed, crawling over your smaller frame to meet your eyes. He grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. So soft and supple, so disgustingly human that it irked him knowing he couldn’t help his little obsession with you.
Haarlep opened their jaw wider to catch his thumb in their mouth, swirling around the pad of Raphael’s thumb with a deft tongue. He could just imagine that tongue swirling around his cock, not that you’d know to do that uninstructed.
The thought of teaching you how to thoroughly pleasure him in all sorts of ways sent a shiver up his spine, and a small bead of precum leaked from his tip in response.
He let go of your—Haarlep’s—face and gave the incubus a rough push on the shoulder, signaling them to lie back. Haarlep, ever so obedient to his master’s whims, laid back onto the crimson bedsheets happily, dipping their arms underneath your head to splay your hair all around your head.
He kept an arm up by your head to hold himself up, looming over you in an all encompassing way and deeply possessive way. His other hand reached for his aching cock, giving it a quick swipe along your drenched slit to gather slick before pushing in and resting his hand on your hip.
Even through Haarlep, your inexperience showed through the vice-like grip your cunt had on him, and his hold on your hip tightened, his claws digging into the plump flesh. Knowing you’d be feeling this, shortly after your only time ever experiencing any sex at all, had him wanting to absolutely ravage the incubus before him. If he couldn’t be your first, he’d make sure he was the only one your little virtuous mind could think about.
He began to pump slowly, only pushing in halfway and taking his time to make sure you could feel every ridge and bump along your inner walls. Haarlep keened at the teasing, mimicking your pained whimpers and quiet moans.
“Doesn’t she have just the tightest squeeze you’ve ever felt?” Haarlep cooed, your moans coming through his words.
Even in the throes of passion, Raphael’s obsession seeped into every corner of his mind, overtaking his pleasure with jealousy. His hand moved from your hip to your jaw, roughly encapsulating it in his clawed grip. “I don’t want to hear another word from you, Haarlep.”
He pushed in hard, burying himself to the hilt and feeling you clench down on him. He began to thrust faster, rutting himself into you harder and harder.
Haarlep’s overexaggerations of your moans had him closing his eyes, letting himself imagine his real little mouse and the probable softer moans you were muffling in the dead of night as you were surrounded by others in their tents only mere feet away. He punished your betrayal through his relentless pounding, abusing your clenching and quivering cunt with this massive intrusion.
Haarlep noticed Raphael's closed eyes, so strange considering they were usually wide open to absorb the full image of his pleasure. Haarlep couldn't help but tease, "Eyes closed, master? Don't tell me you're thinking of that little thief when you've got her body right here before you."
"Quiet," he ordered harshly through gritted teeth as he thrusted. The image of you sweating and writhing on your bedroll as you felt a phantom cock pound into you had him nearing his end. "Touch yourself," he barked, seeking the feeling of your orgasm around his cock.
Haarlep obeyed, sneaking your hand down your body to reach your most sensitive spot, rubbing your clit in generous circles. Your moans through Haarlep rang louder and higher in pitch.
Raphael groaned when he felt your inner walls react, tightening around him. He shifted his position, dipping his hands beneath your knees to lift your legs higher towards your chest, burying himself impossibly deeper in you. His thrusts became aggressive snaps against your hips, the sound of wet skin slapping skin echoed in the room along with the sounds of your crying moans and whimpers.
Haarlep's expert touch and Raphael's ravaging had caused the thread to finally snap, and your body shook as your walls squeezed his cock in a grip so tight it nearly forced his cock out. Haarlep squealed their master's name as they came, "Gods, Raphael!"
It was your voice singing his name in his ears and the image of you helplessly coming around nothing but the idea of him that pushed him over the edge. He grunted through the last of his thrusts, your grip milking the seed out of his weeping cock.
He pulled out of Haarlep, watching his seed drip out of your hole before he let your knees go. His chest heaved with the passion he just experienced. He got up from the bed, regarding Haarlep still on the bed coldly. "Do not think you have any upper hand on me because of this. You are dismissed."
Haarlep slinked off the bed, landing on the floor quietly. With a knowing smirk, they mused, “Just think of it as a gift from your favorite little virgin," before disappearing in a small spark of flames.
374 notes
·
View notes
Text
Deceiving the Duke | 1 | Todoroki Shouto
pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader
length: 2.5k of 30k words | 1st of 9 chapters
summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.
tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut
You knew Camie had done something terrible before you’d even opened the note.
It lay there on her pillow, addressed to her mother in her horrendously girlish hand, a riot of wild loops and curlicues.
Camie had gotten into enough trouble over the years that you recognized when she was trying to obscure her misdeeds under aggressively elaborate flourishes of ink. And with the volume of ink on this letterface—coupled with the fact that it was the letter in her bed, rather than the girl herself–it could only mean the message within was going to be her biggest misdeed of them all.
Your first instinct was to hide it–stuff the letter away up the chimney flue, where it would hopefully crisp and burn, never to be read by human eyes. Specifically by Mrs. Utsushimi, who was prone to even more exaggerated fits than Camie. If she never read it, she’d never be able to spiral into the dramatics you were certain would follow on its heels.
In your years of service to the Utsushimi family, you’d learned only too well how her theatrics usually ended with a mess of new things for you to mend–spilled tea to soak out of the table linens, runny eye powder to wash out of her handkerchiefs, dress collars in need of restitching after she tore them, clutching dramatically at her breast.
Camie was usually the root cause of the high dudgeon, though she was usually here to make amends to you afterwards. But now, you knew she’d never return permanently to this house. You knew the letter meant the end.
Things would be even worse, though, were Mrs. Utsushimi to be given no explanation for Camie’s disappearance, left to her own devices and flights of fancy. There would most certainly be talk of rogues and pirates and highwaymen, and you’d be sent to fetch the police.
So instead of squirreling the letter away, you carried it down to the morning room, your stomach churning.
Mrs. Utsushimi was predictably overwrought, her eyes growing wide as she snatched it from you.
“Kidnapped!” She sobbed as she opened it over the breakfast table, reaching her conclusion before the letter had even fully come unfolded. “Camie’s been kidnapped!”
You carefully suppressed the eyeroll you might have once given Camie over her mother’s head.
Camie was missing, but she had most certainly not been kidnapped.
As a maid, you didn’t have much background in the kidnapping business, but you rather thought that any criminal worth their salt might have targeted a family of more means than the Utsushimis—who were well to-do, but untitled, and living off a stipend that did not extend itself much beyond the daily upkeep of three women.
Any criminal progressing through the house would be able to tell that the majority of the Utsushimi’s belongings were concentrated in their sitting room, so as to appear well-off to any visitors, but the rest of the house was starkly barren of almost any decor. The Utsushimis’ jewels sparkled prettily by candlelight but a close inspection would reveal them to be paste, and the retention of only two household staff–yourself and a cook—would have made it clear to even the most inexperienced criminal that the Utsushimis had no funds with which to ransom a kidnapped daughter.
The note itself was also a giveaway. You doubted a kidnapper with any dignity would dare address the letter face with: Sweet Mumsy, please don’t be angry.
Finally, there was the fact that Camie had been in love with Lord Inasa Yoarashi since they were children to contend with. A note left in the dead of night announcing their elopement and subsequent honeymoon on the continent–to give Mrs. Utsushimi time to calm down, you suspected–was not entirely unexpected.
“She’s not been kidnapped, mama,” the eldest Miss Utsushimi said–Caroline, the only voice of reason in the Utsushimi household. “She’s with Lord Inasa, and you know he will take good care of her.”
“Take good care of her?” Mrs. Utsushimi echoed in disbelief. “What good can come of this? She’ll be ruined!”
Caroline shook her head. “The town will talk, but you know Camie, and you know Lord Inasa. They will be good for one another. And Lord Inasa has the means to ignore the ton–she’ll want for nothing.”
“Then what of us?” Mrs. Utsushimi cried. “What of your prospects? Already in your second season. A younger sister, wedded before you, and a history of scandal in the family? Caroline, you know very well this means no proper gentleman will have you now!”
Caroline paused, as Mrs. Utsushimi buried another sob in her handkerchief. Even you shifted awkwardly in the doorway, feeling slightly guilty.
A younger sister married off before the eldest would suggest something was wrong with Caroline, that she somehow might be damaged goods. And an elopement in the family would cast suspicions on Caroline’s own purity.
You didn’t like Caroline as much as you liked Camie, who had always been so free with her affections, even to the servants. You and Camie were of an age, and she’d taken to you immediately when you’d first come to the family as a specky teenager, desperately seeking a job to support your family. Camie had taught you to read, taught you card games, snuck you refreshments out of family dinners, and unabashedly gifted you many of her own ribbons and trinkets as she outgrew them, much to the dour disapproval of her mother.
Caroline had been somewhat more aloof, comparatively, clearly more aware of your status as a servant. But she had always been polite nevertheless, and she had definitively looked the other way whenever she caught you and Camie at your hijinks.
You did not think that Caroline, standoffish as she was, deserved the fate Camie had all but sealed for her. You counted Camie your closest friend, but even you could see this had been thoughtless of her.
You gathered yourself together, making an awkward noise like the clearing of your throat to get their attention.
“That’s only if they are seen,” you said, trying to sound reassuring, and also like it was at all your place to interject. “And as Camie’s not had her first season yet no one will recognize her.” You hoped you sounded confident in this.
Privately, you thought Camie was as unsubtle as six baboons riding a tiger dressed in petticoats playing the trombone–and the combination of Camie and Lord Yoarashi would be even worse. But no one knew Camie on sight, considering this season was meant to be her debut into society, and as long as she didn’t talk, the Utsushimi family might, just might, be saved from scandal.
“And what are people to think if she doesn’t debut this year?” Mrs. Utsuhshimi demanded, swiping a scone off the breakfast tray and buttering it angrily. “I’ve already announced the Monomas’ ball this week as her coming out. People will start talking if she’s not present.”
“She’s taken ill,” you supplied. “Perhaps she’s been sent to stay with a cousin while she recovers.”
“The ball is two nights from now, and I’ve still got an order in for her dresses, due to arrive this afternoon. I’ve made no mention of their being unnecessary until now.” Mrs. Utsushimi looked put out. “People will talk if the illness is so sudden. And what if they think Caroline a vector of the same disease?”
It went unsaid that Caroline could ill afford to be avoided. Especially not now that her efforts would need to be redoubled, to be married before news broke of Camie’s own nuptials.
You wracked your brain for a solution as the two women breakfasted. Illness was a no, pretending as though Camie hadn’t actually been meant to debut was a no…“Perhaps…if Camie did debut…..” you said, thinking aloud.
If they could feign an illness just long enough to recall her, and send her to subsequent events as though she were not already married…
Mrs. Utsuhimi’s sniffles seized in her nose. “If she—how would she debut now, girl?”
But it was probably far too late to recall Camie, and you could only guess where she’d be. Even if you could dispatch someone to collect her, you thought she would probably never agree to participate in the Season, far too put out and having been denied her adventure.
You’d have to think of something else.
“No, it’s silly–” you started to say, but Mrs. Utsushimi cut you off with a dramatic gasp.
“That’s it!” She cried. “No one knows Camie—and if we can get Caroline married off before the plot is revealed…”
You stared at her. What plot? Hadn’t you only now discussed how excuses might damage Caroline’s reputation? And what married off? Where were you supposed to find her a bridegroom at this hour?
But Mrs. Utsushimi quickly clarified the depths of her insanity. “It’ll have to be you. Anyone else might be talked into betraying her.”
You blinked. What would have to be you? That sounded almost like—
“We’ll have to alter her dresses–well, you will–and Caroline will have to imbue you with some etiquette, of course. I don’t suppose Camie left any of her jewels, did she? If not, you might borrow a few of my pastes–”
You dropped the silverware you’d been rearranging, the fork plopping into the butter with a flat little spat noise.
“You mean—impersonate Camie?” You blurted, mind suddenly reeling. “At—in public?”
“Well we certainly don’t need it here,” Mrs. Utsushimi said shortly, waving her handkerchief impatiently.
You took comfort in the expression on Caroline’s face, a horrified gape of her pert mouth that mirrored your own shock. “Mama,” she started, but her mother waved her off.
“Mrs. Utsushimi—ma’am—I couldn’t. That’s not—”
“Hush, hush,” Mrs. Utsushimi said, looking impatient. “It’s just until Caroline finds a husband. We’ll be uncovered, eventually, but Caroline will already be matched by then, and her virtues proven upon consummation.”
Caroline looked uncomfortable.
You too, could not think of a woman who might like to start her married life off on such a deception. Your heart twinged at her predicament.
But of course this entire scheme could not play out this way. You definitely could not pretend to be Camie. Not only because it was an idea so insane it beggared belief, not only because you were sure to be the least convincing gentlewoman of all time, but also because there was no benefit to you.
If the scheme was revealed, which it would be as soon as Camie returned from the continent and was decidedly a different person than the girl who’d flitted in and out of parties all season—you would be caught out. Propriety would obviously demand you be dismissed from the Utsushimi household, no matter how complicit the Utsushimis themselves were in the scandal, and you’d never work again in this town.
And besides taking care of yourself, you had parents in the countryside who needed looking after, and your wage, meager as it was, was essential to their upkeep.
“I can’t do it,” you said firmly, catching Mrs. Utsushimi’s eye. “I am sorry.”
Mrs. Utsushimi’s face pulled into annoyance, flapping her handkerchief dramatically at you. “Of course you can, I’ve just laid out the plan—”
“I mean that I have to look out for myself, ma’am. When I’m uncovered, you’d have to dismiss me, and I won’t have a job to go to next. I need the money for my family.”
Mrs. Utsushimi hummed, taking a thoughtful sip of her tea. Her eyes narrowed at you over the rim of the cup, and her voice emerged slightly muffled. “You mean you’d do it, otherwise? If your wages are taken care of?”
You blinked. “I—well, possibly—I’d need to consider…”
Mrs. Utsuhimi hummed again, twisting her handkerchief in her fingers. She was quiet for a long moment, staring at you with an intensity that had you squirming uncomfortably.
Finally, she made a pronouncement.
“While you are in between jobs, I will pay you a stipend of your regular wages,” she said. “I will also secure additional reimbursement from Camie’s new husband. Lord Inasa would think nothing of giving it.” This you knew to be true, from the little you’d interacted with him. More money than sense, that man. But generous, too, and fairly good-natured.
“And if you are unable to find work,” Mrs. Utsushimi continued, “I will ensure that Camie will secure you a place in her new household.”
Your heart warmed.
That sounded true enough. Already embroiled in scandal herself, and your friend besides, Camie would think nothing of giving you a place in her home. And given the judgmental nature of the ton, it was improbable she would be entertaining from her social set for quite some time, meaning you would likely never have the uncomfortable experience of waiting on someone you’d once duped.
It sounded foolproof—well, as foolproof as a plan that was foolish by its very nature could be.
It was utterly hare-brained…but if it meant money, and a place in Camie’s new home…
There was just the matter of you being convincing enough to pass as a member of Musutafu’s gentry.
You’d spent enough time with Camie to affect some of her genteel mannerisms, but there would be all manner of things you’d only heard tell of that you’d have to familiarize yourself with. How dance cards worked, the steps of dances themselves, affecting an educated conversation, which silverware pieces to use at the table—all of it sounded overwhelming.
With only a few days to prepare, you didn’t know if you could do it.
As if she sensed your hesitation, Caroline leaned forward at the other end of the table. She looked as though she still had doubts–you certainly did–-but you sensed a bit of resolve in her, as well. There was only so much a lady of her station could do–and she did need to marry well.
This was for her benefit.
“I’ll…help you,” she said, giving a tight, but genuine smile. “If we…if we really are doing this. We can start lessons after breakfast, and I will show you everything I know.”
You nodded, and Mrs. Utsushimi gave an artful wave of her handkerchief.
“Then it’s settled,” she pronounced, in tones that sounded terribly final. “For the next few months, you will be Camie.”
Your stomach turned over with a sudden bout of nerves. It meant risking everything about your current situation–and it would mean a new life in just a few months.
“A hundred pounds, I think, would be suitable?” Mrs. Utsushimi said, as though she could read your hesitation.
A hundred pounds. Enough to keep your parents comfortably for a few years, if you were smart about it. Enough that it was worth the potential risks.
And that settled it.
You would do it. You would be Camie. You would deceive the ton—all the lords, ladies, dukes and duchesses.
Or you would risk it all trying.
648 notes
·
View notes
Text
I just saw a reel on Instagram, which I absolutely refuse to link because I don’t want to give it more views so I attached a recording of some of the more relevant parts above, but basically this woman (who I assume was a photographer due to the cameras and such) was in the middle of the Arctic doing who knows what. She starts off the video saying something “incredible” happened, and the footage then cuts to her being surrounded by roughly 13 wild wolves. Yeah, you read that right. Due to the poor quality that is my recording, I’ll try and break down what’s happening to the best of my ability.
Throughout the video you can see that the wolves seem not quite quite laid back, but aren’t scared. The wolf closest to the camera at roughly seven seconds in is regarding them with a look that kinda says “hey, what’s this?”.* All the wolves are either walking along on their path, or taking a closer look, not necessarily circling the two individuals but definitely keeping an eye on them. This is probably due to them not seeing people at all prior to this experience. Now, I know that might sound odd, but some areas in the Arctic or places super far north in general have wolves that just haven’t seen people. There was a documentary (which I forget the name of) that covered researchers interacting with a pack who hadn’t seen people. There was also a book (Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat) published a while ago that dealt with a pack similarly. When described, the behavior in both the book and documentary kinda reminds me of the wolves in this video.
A quick look at the animals tells me these people aren’t in any real danger, however, should the wolves get more curious and get closer things could probably get a bit tricky. Wolves being naturally neophobic, attacks on humans from healthy wild wolves are slim to none these days. Plus, you really shouldn’t interact with wild animals no matter what they’re acting like. Preferably these people would’ve tried scaring them away the second they saw them approaching (acting aggressive, maintaining eye contact, and whatever you do, don’t run!), but instead, we had to have a Disney princess moment.
In the extremely rare chance that the wolves had seen these people as food, we would be seeing more quicker movement, heads below their shoulders**, various behaviors to test and see whether the people were fit enough for a snack, etc. though this is not the case here. So why, might you be wondering, is this bad if the wolves aren’t hunting the people and the people aren’t interacting with the wolves?
Well, you should never, never, interact with wild animals like this, which if you’ve been following my blog for a while now you probably already know. These wolves, if they so happen to see people again, now associate people with something they can get close to without them getting hurt, which works great if you want a cool selfie, but isn’t good if you are a park ranger, a worried parent, or any other person in a position of authority really, let alone if you have a gun. Historically, if a wild animal (especially a wolf!) gets too close to people, they get shot. It doesn’t matter if the animal was exhibiting dangerous behavior or not, people can’t risk it. Basically, wolf getting closer to people and realizing they can do it without problems = them trying again at a time where things are different and people think “oh no, big and wolf!” and kill it.
I’m not sure how the encounter ended, but later footage shows the wolves farther away rallying as a group, so I assume everything went okayish despite the obvious errors. TL:DR, these people are endangering these animals with their need for a cool video, don’t be a Disney princess, and stay away from wild animals even if they look friendly.
*the wolf closest to the camera has its ears kinda flat and to the side, this is called airplane ears by some biologists (yes seriously) and it is a sign of uncertainty.
**fun fact: theories vary, but some have guessed that prey animals can tell whether a wolf is hunting from whether or not their heads are below their shoulders or not! This would explain why we see videos of wolves calmly walking passed a herd of elk while they stay rested, and why other times the elk will bolt as soon as they see the predator.
336 notes
·
View notes
Text
LOTR in a modern world headcanons? I think yes.
I did this on one of my old accounts that i ended up deleting for some reason, i don’t remember, but here. Back on my Lord Of The Rings BS, let’s gooooo. This’ll be the fellowship with everyone intact, no one is dead.
As always requests are open and let me know if you want more!
LOTR x GN! Reader, general headcanons for if you had to take care of them today, in 2023. Enjoy!
The ring most likely has no power in this dimension, so yay Frodo is free from torment!
Sam loves watching cooking, gardening and home renovation shows, and he gets very invested in the former two. You learn a lot you didn’t really need to know from his commentary
Once Pippin learns about pyjamas and fuzzy slippers he never goes back, you literally cannot get him out of them
Boromir and Aragorn, being human and coincidentally two of the most responsible members of the fellowship, are the easiest to take in public to the grocery store and such.
You can pass off the hobbits (if they cover their ears with their hair) as children, and Gimli is your friend with dwarfism.
Gandalf you can pass off as your grandfather, and Legolas looks pretty normal if you cover his ears.
Pippin is the type to bounce in his seat in the car and ask “Are we there yet?!” every 5 minutes
Frodo really likes to draw, especially when there’s so many cool places and movies to draw inspiration from.
Movie nights? No horrors. The hobbits are terrified by ‘em.
Movie nights are literally so difficult because they all have such different tastes
Merry really likes James Bond movies.
Pippin is obsessed with nail polish when you introduce him to it. Boromir gets his repainted every time the polish come off. His nails need serious help after a while
Pippin and Merry often start pillow fights, and drag everyone else into it
If you have space for a garden or plants in your home, Sam is on it. He finds it calming, so now you have some home grown plants :)
Taking the hobbits in public? Bad idea. You can trust Frodo and Sam, but Merry inevitably drags Pippin off to do something dumb and possibly dangerous.
Gandalf has an old man rocker. There is no discussion.
The hobbits do the classic “getting one sibling to ask for fast food because whoever’s in charge will say yes”, they get Frodo to do this because he has the best puppy dog face and he’s unsure about asking for things normally.
Pippin and Merry cannot handle too much caffeine or sugar or they go crazy
You thought Legolas’ hair was good before? He steals your hair care products and his hair is literally perfect.
(He’s also willing to do skincare with you, not that his face needs it. Again, flawless)
Game nights are so chaotic. You can’t play a lot of games since they don’t know what many things from this world are, so games like Trivia and Charades are off the table
Gimli and Legolas verse each other in video games, often enough it ends with Legolas winning and Gimli rage quitting
Aragorn is so responsible he’s literally the perfect man to do anything with, and he can hold the fort down if you need to leave
Pippin is so clingy, he trails you wherever you go and asks you random questions but it’s adorable
Boromir insists on carrying your stuff, bags of groceries, all that
Frodo often goes to the library to find new books to read, with you of course
There’s a whole debate on whether 3D or 2D animation is better, i would not get involved if i were you.
Pippin and Merry are also avid fans of quoting their favourite movies, once they see them
Legolas and Frodo are the best listeners, they will just sit there and not judge or try to give you advice they just. sit there. like the perfect men they are.
Legolas would have a meme for everything. Like any situation. You text him like “PIPPIN FELL DOWN SOME WELL WE DON’T EVEN HAVE A WELL HELP” and he just has a meme that fits the situation perfectly.
Frodo and Legolas would watch Avatar: The Last Airbender together because it’s their favourite show. Aragorn jumps in also.
Those three are also avid tea drinkers.
Boromir likes Game Of Thrones. I don’t know anything about it, he just does. Please confiscate Pippin while he does.
Pippin gasps dramatically whenever a plot twist surprises him.
Sam loves to cook, and he does a lot of cooking in the house once he arrives. You two just work together in the kitchen (if you can’t cook, he’ll teach you) and have nice sweet conversations
Legolas is great at doing people’s hair. If you ask him to, he’d probably agree, though he’d probably be a bit flustered as that is a courting ritual in his culture.
Ask Legolas to talk to you until you fall asleep. His voice is so heavenly istg-
The hobbits get sleepy when their hair is played with and it’s adorable
Won’t lie this hyperfixation came back then it circled back to TMNT and today i watched these films with my friend and now i’m back to LotR love. Most of this has been sitting in my drafts for a couple weeks.
Anyway, I think that’s about it from me, I hope you guys enjoy! :)
If you want to request, rules are pinned on my page! Let me know if you want a general part two or a set of modern headcanons for a specific character. I love LOTR in the modern world content so much.
Have a good day, and remember that you are loved!
#lotr#x reader#fanfiction#lord of the rings x reader#the fellowship x reader#gn!reader#frodo x reader#samwise x reader#pippin x reader#merry x reader#aragorn x reader#legolas x reader#gimli x reader#boromir x reader#gandalf x reader#everybody lives#lotr in modern world#im not making aragorn a single hobbit parent no sir#so many tags
239 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
vailhomesandcondoscomeastvail
vailhomesandcondoscom
shadytaughttme
The Worst Things In Life Come Free To Us
universidaderesiste-blog
Universidade Resiste
cancer121419
The Potato 🥔 Artist
secretyoungartist
I love women