#either I need to preparing for the future or doing schoolwork or catching up on a hobby or whatnot
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Serene Diaries // beach waves, back in school, and hanging out with friends.🌊🪶🥂 (02/20/2023 - 02/25/2023)
If I am going to be honest, the start of 2023 for me was a disaster. Other than the pretty fireworks and our neighbours greeting us a happy new year, it felt like something bad was bound to happen and that gut feeling that I had became my sign to become a psychic, because I was right. The month of January was the most stressful month that I have ever encountered my life.
For the first time, I became an actor and I'm not going to lie it was stressful as heck due to the preparations. Even though the character I was playing has the same attitude as I am, it felt like I was out of place due to the fact that I had someone to love which I wouldn't even imagine myself to be in the future. But anyway, January had been the most stressful, most expensive, and most memorable (bad) month that I had.
Moving to February, I felt at ease because the play was done after the first week of the month and I had a rest, barely. Due to catching up with schoolwork and research I had barely rested and my eyebags had been deeper than the Mariana Trench. I swear my wallet was crying because sometimes going to school was a waste of time because the people I needed to be there didn't go. But by the third week, I didn't know if it got worse or better.
I had mixed feelings, to be honest.
February 20 was when my schoolmates and I were going to celebrate at the beach. It felt amazing to be there as I breathe in the fresh air even though I also smelt the trash can beside me. The sad part was I couldn't swim due to having the red flow and the ocean would turn to the red sea, and that the prices of the products from the convenience store was twice as expensive as the stores from the city. Imagine a cup of ramen noodles and each slurp was made of gold. But you know, in the end, I enjoyed the scenery and taking care of adult-sized children.
When midnight hit (February 21), we went to a cafe and ordered Frappes. I ordered the green tea based because nothing could go wrong with tea, literally. Had a long chat with my friends, gossiping about life and all, we head back after and took a nap. Let me tell you, I couldn't sleep well due to the fact that our neighbours were noisy as heck to the point that their laughs were as loud as a whale in the ocean. But anyway, I had a big fat nap when I got home thanks to them.
Wednesday came (February 22) and it was any other normal day for me. Staying inside my room the whole day, which is my sanctuary, playing Stardew Valley and writing stories that I couldn't publish because it's either rubbish, a draft, or had a brain fart. Hopefully if I had the right amount of inspiration, I would publish the major project I had been contemplating all my life since high school.
Before I knew it, Thursday (February 23) came. The day that I had been dreading due to the fact that it was the day we had to enroll for the second semester. Honestly, I wish I didn't but I was too late to even do it. I couldn't even imagine another semester full of disasters, breakdowns, internal crisis, and insomnia all over again. But here we are now. But look at the bright side, we're almost there. And hey, I went to a festival with my friends and we had a blast. Eating food 'til we were all broke, listening to music, and watching cultural dances as it was the opening of the festival. My brother was one of the dancers at the festival. After that, we ate dinner at the mall and went home.
Fast forward to Saturday (February 25) because Friday I just slept all day and I'm not even joking. I woke up and the first thing I did was read a novel. Yes, I got the energy to open a novel. It was The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood and all I could say was I had the time of my life. Who knew science could be this thrilling and to find love within. Guess love is a scientific phenomenon full of complicated chemistry. I read it for the whole morning and afternoon and my mum went in my room to inform me that we had to go eat dinner outside. So, I had no choice but to comply due to the fact that I had been also craving samgyeopsal since the new years passed by. Let's say I ad more than 20 plates of meat (it was sooo good).
Ended the day by playing Disney Dreamlight Valley and Bargaining with Scrooge.
xoxo.
Disclaimer: All photos, videos, music, and GIFs belong to the rightful owners and not mine. However, all edits used with the following do belong to me.
See: masterlist 🌻
© 2023 | oneandonlykyeonmi
#.ೃ࿐serene.diaries#.ೃ࿐kyeonmi.lifeupdate#Serene Diaries#weeklydiaries#oneandonlykyeonmi#beach waves#back to school#back in school#festival#hanging out#hanging out with friends#friends#second semester#school#writing#reading#eating#stardew valley#gaming
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this changes things
ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER FOUR OF ELEVEN (!!)
pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader
word count: 2.3k
a/n: we’re back to eleven chapters baby!!!! this one ended up being longer than i thought. i know i usually post on friday nights, but i couldn’t help but give you all a lil valentine’s day treat. pls enjoy!!!!
masterlist
Steve’s nervous.
It’s down to the wire; there's only a few short weeks left of his final high school semester. Four out of five college applications have been rejected. Each one received has fed the anxiety more and more.
Every day that passes without a lick of news from the remaining university has him reconsidering everything. His education. His career. His future.
The only thing Steve knows about his future is that he wants you in it, in whichever form that might be. You’re the constant. Without you, he’s afraid he’d eventually go back to being that person he was before. You make him want to be better. Trying to be worthy of you gives Steve purpose.
He imagined that getting a college education would help keep him on that path. It seems farther away with each rejection letter he receives.
Steve hasn’t told you that he hasn’t gotten into any so far. He’s afraid of disappointing you, especially after everything you’ve done for him.
The spring of ‘85 has been particularly unforgiving. It’s been storming all week - the air still hangs with that familiar smell of rain soaked concrete. You read that the Hawkins Post reported a record amount of rainfall; the local stream overflowed and flooded a few basements.
The mail is still damp when Steve retrieves it after practice. It sticks to his fingers as he shuffles through each envelope, drying his sneakers on the welcome mat.
And then his eyes linger on one addressed to him; Steve nearly drops his backpack when he sees who sent it.
Haphazardly, he tosses the rest of the mail onto the kitchen counter as he contemplates whether to even open the damn thing. Steve’s pretty sure he knows the answer. Is it an answer he wants?
Whatever the words inside this parcel read, it changes Steve’s life forever. His future is planned from the moment he breaks the seal - there would be no going back. Either he stays here in Hawkins, trapped by an education he neglected for far too long, or he gets to take a step to distance himself from this shitty town and prove his worth.
Steve isn’t a fan of the former option.
He wishes you were here to read it for him. He’d rather you tell him the news; hearing it come from your lips would make it easier.
By the time Steve decides to open it, a few minutes have passed. Why does this feel like the scariest thing he’s ever done?
Due to the water, some of the ink bled through the paper; pieces of the letter are illegible. But at the top, a familiar phrase answers his question: Unfortunately, we regret to inform you-
Steve curses, angrily throwing the envelope and its contents into the trash. He refuses to read anymore.
He has no one to blame but himself. Maybe that’s why he’s so angry. There were multiple opportunities for him to change course and put effort into his schoolwork. By the time he finally tried, it was too late.
Thunder booms in the distance once Steve parks his car beside your mother’s. He doesn’t remember deciding to come here; the only thing he can recall is grabbing the keys, without a destination in mind. His heart brought him to your warmth.
As Steve gets out of the car, he wonders if this was maybe a bad idea. It isn’t very often that he feels afraid to face you - he’s scared of your reaction, and the outcome that could follow.
He knew that he could love you, that he could fall just as hard as you did for him. But admitting it to himself, and then you - he doesn’t know if he has the strength to do it again. That phrase has left a sour taste in his mouth, one that Steve hopes he can wash away. Because you deserve to hear it too.
Maybe he’s closer to saying it than he thought, perhaps that’s why he’s so scared to tell you. Maybe-
“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Dustin’s voice startles Steve, who turns to see the boy walking his bike up the driveway. Steve fumbles his response, head spinning with thoughts about you, “I don’t, uh-”
Dustin interrupts him, not noticing the nerves Steve displays, “Hey, you should come in! It’s mac ‘n cheese night.”
Steve hangs his head in defeat, knowing that he’s going to follow your brother inside. He can’t say no to this kid.
Dustin hangs up his raincoat once the pair of them enter the house; the bell on Tews’ collar jingles as they run to greet the boys. The kitten weaves between Steve’s legs before he kneels down to give them a few pets.
“That you, Dusty?” Your mother calls from within; clattering silverware echoes from the kitchen. Steve chuckles at the nickname. Dustin punches him in the bicep.
He kicks off his shoes as he replies, “Hey Mom! Get out another bowl - look who I found loitering around.”
Steve scoffs, shoving Dustin as they walk forward through the threshold into the living room. Your mom moves to welcome them; her warm smile widens when she sees Steve by her son’s side, “Well look who it is! Steve, sweetheart, how are you?”
He’s baffled by her every time he shares a meal with your family. Her kind soul is infectious, and drastically different from the parents he was raised by. Steve tries not to think about the fact her beloved pet is secretly buried out back - he’s reminded of it whenever he sees her.
“I’m good, Mrs. Henderson. How are you?” Steve answers, returning her grin. She envelops him in a quick hug, “How many times am I going to have to tell you? Just call me Claudia, hon.”
Steve laughs along with her as he follows her to the kitchen, “I think you’ll need to remind me one more time.”
And then his eyes meet yours from across the room. They smile nearly as much as your lips at the sight of him; your heart flutters at this unexpected surprise.
When you catch onto the sadness in his expression, the corners of your mouth drop. It’s obvious to you that something’s wrong. Steve doesn’t usually stop by without an invitation; something must’ve happened.
Throughout dinner, you take mental notes on his deflated behavior. It’s subtle enough to fool your family, but you know him better. With each minute that passes, the more anxious you become to hear the cause. So when he volunteers to help you with the dishes, as he always does, you know it’s only a matter of time.
“How was practice?” You ask before drying off a cup. Steve takes it from your hand as he replies, “Uh, it was good. Although it’s annoying that we’re still practicing even though the season’s over.”
You hum in agreement as he places the glass on the shelf. Steve glances back at you briefly, “What about you? What’d you get up to?”
A beat passes - you’re looking for the words to describe your afternoon. Maybe not the words, but the courage. It’s only when he turns around, brow creased, do you answer him.
“I studied at Nancy’s,” You say. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, “Oh yeah? How’d that go?”
You nod your head, focusing your gaze onto the floor, “It was nice, actually. It wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be.”
“Now when you say studying…” He trails off for a moment as he thinks, “You two didn’t… exchange notes about me or anything, did you?”
Steve’s growing smirk makes you laugh; you hit him playfully with the towel, “No! And I haven’t told her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
A part of him can’t help but be relieved. There’s no limit to what you two could chat about.
“We just ended up talking about college most of the time,” You add, “She wanted to know some tips since she’ll be applying soon.”
Steve grabs a plate to dry; in order to try and quell his anxiety, he has to do something productive. But your mind recognizes it as a distraction - you’re no stranger to coping mechanisms.
“Have you figured out where you’re gonna go yet?” He questions, praying your answer isn’t far; lightning flashes outside the kitchen window, followed closely by the low rumble of thunder.
You sigh as you lean back against the counter, “I’m not sure. Nancy was helping me talk through my options earlier, but it’s such a big decision to make. I wanna make sure it’s the right fit.”
Steve nods slightly, forehead creasing as he wipes his hands on the towel. And by the way he clenches his jaw at your reply, you know that this is the source of contention.
You nudge his leg with your foot, “What about you? Get any responses back?”
The breath hitches in Steve’s throat; there’s no way this conversation doesn’t end with his reveal. The longer it takes for him to speak, the more concerned you grow.
“I, uh-“ A sigh passes his lips as he grips the counter, keeping his focus away from you. He doesn’t want to witness your reaction.
“I didn’t get in,” Steve mutters. He exhales, shaking his head in disbelief; until now, it almost didn’t seem real. It took admitting it to you for his brain to accept it.
You shift on your feet, unsure of what to say. Over the past few weeks, you and Steve had been discussing how your relationship would persist once you both had made your college commitments. This wasn’t an outcome either of you prepared for.
“Holy shit, Steve. I’m sorry…” You whisper. Steve pushes his face into his hands; his voice is muffled from behind his palms, “Yeah, yeah… holy shit.”
You don’t hesitate any more to comfort him. Steve straightens as you place your hands on his arms; he melts into your touch, unable to prevent you from turning his body to face yours.
“Hey, it’ll be fine,” You reassure him, “College isn’t the only option, you know. There are other things you could do.”
The expression on Steve’s face breaks your heart. You’d do anything to wipe it away and brighten his mood. But Steve just sighs again, appreciating your efforts to help him, but nothing seems to be working.
“How’d your parents react?” You ask. The only thing keeping Steve grounded to this moment is the firm grip you have on his shoulders; he thinks he’d float away without it.
He scoffs a bit; the sound breaks the deafening silence that formed as he thought of a response. His eyes are still focused downwards as he finally answers you, “They don’t know yet. I just got the last letter today. I couldn’t think of going anywhere else.”
When your fingers brush against his cheek, Steve instinctively moves his hands to rest on your waist, “I’m sorry, I just-”
Steve finally lifts his head. Your eyes are wide, pupils filled to the brim with nothing but your fondness for him. All of a sudden, he’s confused why he was so scared to tell you. He realizes that he never should’ve doubted you.
“I was scared this would change things. Or that you’d be disappointed in me or some shit.”
Your brow furrows as you laugh softly - baffled by his words, “What could ever make you think that I’d be disappointed in you?”
A flash of previous memories answers your own question. You decide not to pull on that thread anymore.
“This changes things,” You mutter. Your eyeline drops as you pause, choosing your words carefully before continuing, “But it doesn’t change how I feel about you.���
Finally, Steve feels a bit of relief. The sincerity in your voice calms the fear, and a deep exhale allows him to let it go. Your compassion and understanding permits him to begin thinking clearly again. He knew there was a reason he came here.
You’re right though. This does change how you both navigate the future. But with you here to support him, Steve figures he’ll be just fine.
“I mean…” The corner of your mouth curls up at the thought that pops into your head, “The only way my opinion of you changes is if you killed my brother or something like that.”
Steve chuckles slightly, “But Mike’s still fair game?”
“Oh yeah, go ahead,” You quip, “He’s had it comin’ for a while.”
Even though your voices are hushed, the joke still makes you crack a pair of brilliant smiles; it almost makes Steve forget about his future for a moment. Standing here in your arms, Steve can’t help but realize how safe he feels.
And then you sigh, reaching up to brush back a lock of his brunette hair - the sensation of your touch fills Steve with something new, something different. A direct contrast to the violent storm brewing outside, this is soft, warm, and golden. Like daylight.
Your eyes meet again. Honestly, he’s not sure he ever wants to look at anything else.
Your hand lands on his chest, “This doesn’t make me love you any less.”
Steve throws caution to the wind - he kisses you. And already, you can tell that this is one you’ll remember. His lips are soft against yours, but without sacrificing an ounce of passion. You almost forget that someone could walk in and expose your relationship; when Steve finally pulls away, it doesn’t matter anyways.
As if you weren’t left breathless enough from his kiss, the words he mutters afterwards could’ve done it themselves.
With one of his trademark smirks plastered across his face, Steve moves to hold your head between his palms, “Fuck, I love you.”
You kiss him again so quickly that you both didn’t have enough time to wipe the twinkling grins from your lips. Your noses are squished against each other, but neither of you cares enough. Your shared love dulls the pain.
Steve smiles into the kiss even further. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.
—
taglist: @djjarin / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @harringtherin / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @buggs177 / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @bakugouishusbando / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @wisdaemon / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl
if you want be added to the taglist, just lemme know!
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#st fic#st imagine#steve harrington x you#my writing#almost paradise
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hey!! could i get a nagito x tired!reader oneshot where the reader hasn't slept for awhile and komaeda is trying to make them sleep?
Mod Mikan: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! Schoolwork has been piling up and I want a good job in the future. Thank you for your patience, darling, it means a lot :) And I’m so sorry if the ending is rushed, I really wanted to get this out for you, and I was a bit distracted. I’m really sorry, please forgive me!
(Y/D/J): Your dream job
(F/C): Favorite Candy
"Oh, you’re the ultimate (Y/T)?! Wow, that’s amazing! It must be so much fun having an astonishing talent like that!”
That’s barely scratching the tip of the iceberg
I loved my talent. I really did. Without the skills that I possessed, even before Hope Peak’s academy, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Back in high school, it was safe to say that my professors and classmates helped developed and shape my abilities even more. Now, I work as a(n) (Y/D/J). While my job had it perks, the word ‘fun’ wouldn’t really be the right word to describe it
In my opinion, I’d rather use to the term ‘grueling’
My long-term boyfriend, Nagito, claims that my talent was gifted from heaven since birth. He even called me his ‘angel of hope’ since I believed I was a gift from heaven bested upon him as his ‘ultimate good luck’. While that was an exaggeration, it was also only partially true. I loved to believe that I’ve always had my passion for (Y/T), however my hard-work and determination also played a major aspect in my success
Despite my high work-ethic and strive for perfection, I was nothing more than human. After a few months working in my dream job, I started to feel the after effects of the tiring tasks that was dumped on my already heavy schedule
Racking my brain from these thoughts, I let out a heavy exhale, turning my house key into the lock. I entered my shared house with my boyfriend, tossing my keys onto the foyer table. With the literal kick of taking off my heels, I threw my cross-bag onto the couch as soon as my fatigue eyes fell upon it. Oh, how I wouldn’t give to take even a five minute nap on it. In anyone’s eyes, it just looked like a fuzzy, beige couch. But it was a bed made of clouds in my worn-out brain. I ran a hand through my (H/C) locks, a sour expression forming on my face
When was the last time I actual had a proper night of sleep?
I moved away from the living room, making my way into my home office. As much as I wanted to at least try to get some shut eye, I was still knee deep in work. Nagito didn’t work, due to his mental health. He was usually home almost all the time, either taking care of the cleaning or chores. Today was one of the rare nights he wasn’t home. I focused my weary orbs onto a note stuck onto the fridge, messily written in blue ink
Hajime needed some help with something, so if I’m not home when you come back, you know why. I’m sorry I didn’t text you, it was an urgent call. I hope you understand, my beloved hope. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you so much, angel girl! XOXO
-Nagito
A sigh escaped my pink lips, as I treaded towards my home office. I practically melted into the cushioned seat of my desk chair, wanting to sleep right there, right then. But I knew I still had assignments to catch up on, along with overdue paperwork that was waiting to be faxed to the office. An annoyed click of my tongue fell after the drained sigh I just let out, as I poked my finger at my computer monitor, waiting for it to load
*****************************************************************************************************
2:41 am
My dearest apologizes for not emailing this sooner to you, Mr. Grant. I was finishing up another project I had, but I managed to squeeze some time to inform you that the papers you needed filled out are done. I will be sending you the rest in three to five business days. In the meantime, I hope that what I have attached will suffice. Please let me know if--
“(Y/N)?”
My swivel chair squeaked, as I felt the seat turn around with a swift motion of a hand that was not my own. I eyes were ripped from the incomplete email that was meant for my boss. Instead, my eyes were forced to see my pale skinned boyfriend that was standing in front of me. His eyes were filled with worried, all of his usual cheerfulness drained from them. He extended a hand of concern towards me, a box of (F/C) tucked underneath the other one
“Huh? N-Nagito? Welcome back. Is everything okay with Hajime? You were out pretty late,” I crooked out, my voice getting more sapped by every passing minute. He nodded, placing the candies onto my office desk, but quickly turned his attention back to me. He placed a gentle hand onto my shoulder, closing a few inches of space between us
“There was an emergency, but everything is fine now, darling. But...I’m not so sure, seeing your state. You look exhausted,” He frowned, making me look down. My gaze from the floor only lasted a split second, as I pair of skinny fingers lifted my chin to look at Nagito’s green orbs again
“(Y/N), when was the last time you slept? Be honest with me,” He softly demanded, forcing me to come clean. Nagito was no fool. He was more observant and intelligent than the average person, regardless of how much he speaks down about himself. There was no point in lying in a failed attempt to make him feel better
“A good....three....to five.....business days.....” I scowled, crossing my arms. Nagito let out a long exhale, however something about it just made me more mortified with myself. It was the kind of ‘disappointed, overprotective’ spouse sigh. He turned to me with his upset expression, making my heart slowly break
“Why didn’t you tell me, (Y/N)?” He asked me, prying even more hidden information from me. With another suspire, laced with a hint of self-irritation, I unraveled what has been flooding my sleep-deprived mind to my long-term boyfriend
“I just.....want to be hopeful...the angel of hope like you always tell me that I am...” I weakly smiled at him, but knew that it wasn’t the best time to paint a thin coat of fake happiness to this pathetic condition. My meek beam was replaced with my previous scowl
“Everyone always thinks that my job is...’fun’ and I’m so lucky to have it. I didn’t want to look weak, asking people for help....or....or even telling someone I can’t take it....I can take it, Nagito. Really.....I just don’t want to disappoint anyone that believes in me...including you,” I finished, huffing at the end. I was a successful in hiding the tears that were begging my eyes to let them out. But I didn’t allow it
Be strong, (Y/N). Be strong.....
It was no secret that Nagito was huge on compliments. He was my number one supporter in everything I did. He praised all my efforts, believed in me more than anyone else, and showered me with affection and love, even if I lost a personal battle. He was a bit hypocritical, wanting to focus on building my own self-confidence rather than his, but besides that he was the perfect, loving boyfriend. Still, every time he cheered me up and managed to put a smile on my face....I couldn’t help but feel like the most loved person in the world. After all these years....all his efforts, despite him confessing he wasn’t the best at comforting others, made my heart flutter
After all, his beloved hope was feeling despair? Not on his watch!
So this didn’t surprise me
“(Y/N), my darling angel....don’t fuss over this. I mean...you need despair to feel hope,” He began to speak. He took this opportunity to tenderly grab my hand, pulling me from my chair. I thought he was going to lead me to our bedroom, but instead the hand that pulled me closer to him wrapped around my back. He closed the space between us, practically slamming me into his lanky figure. With his other hand, he wrapped it around my legs, scooping me up bridal style
“N-Nagito?! I know I’m tired, but I can walk myself!” I requested from him, raising my voice as loud as I could. However, due to my fatigue, my ‘yelling’ voice was nothing above a normal speaking tone, as Nagito still carried me to the bed, a smirk plastered on his handsome face. I rolled my eyes, but wrapped my arms around his neck
He laid me down on our bed, crouching down to my height. He still kept his cheeky grin on his face, crossing his arms. I couldn’t help but smile myself, knowing that Nagito had the cutest plans to make his angel feel better when they were down in the dumps
“Now, let me bring that hope back inside you. Shall I prepare some Chamomile tea with a plate of (F/C)? When I was coming home from Hajime’s, I noticed the 24 hour store only had one box left of them,” He admitted, provoking a pink colored blush on my cheeks. It was so like Nagito to do something like that, always thinking about what his lover would want
I couldn’t just say ‘yes’ without gushing about how lucky I was to have this man in my life. I just nodded, squeaking out a small ‘thank you’ filled with an endearing amount of affection. He smiled gently at me, kissing my forehead before draping our blanket around my body, leaving the room. I hugged the sheets close to my body, waiting for the marshmallow haired man to come back. Upon returning with the tea and plate of candies, he took his side of bed and handed me the treats. After I was done with the snacks and warm beverage, Nagito took them from me, setting the dirty cup and plate on the dresser on his side. Before I could even express my gratitude towards Nagito, he wrapped his arms around my once again, pulling me close to him. I felt our bodies rock back and forth, as he snuggled his head on top of mine
I could tell Nagito wanted cuddles and to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.....
At least that’s what he wanted to do for me. He just shushed me every time I tried to thank him for taking good care of me. He stroked my hair tenderly whispering to me “You don’t need to thank you, angel. I’ll do anything to see that smile” and “I love you so much, my hope. You just relax, I got you,” He warm breath hit my face, making me feel cozy inside. He cradled me back in forth, singing softly. He was never confident in his singing skills (or anything he did), but I absolutely adored it. After I heard his voice die down after several minutes of staying like this, I yawned one last time for the night, feeling my fatigue take over my body. I was in a much more comfortable position, in my lover’s arms, as I dozed off into sleep
I could’ve sworn that Nagito smiled softly, his hand never stopping the journey of roaming through my (H/C) locks. I felt another kiss being pressed onto my forehead and something along the lines of this filled my ears before I was out like a light
“Sweet dreams, my hope. I love you so much....”
Bonus:
“What the hell is this?!” Your boss, Mr. Grant, exclaimed as he reread the threatening email he was sent
Let all your employees have the week off or bad things will happen
Thank you!
“Who the hell could’ve sent something like this?! I’m not going to give them the week off over a ridiculous email!” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the email that was supposed to scare him into closing his office for the week. He began to type a nasty reply to the sender, disagreeing with the what he thought was nothing more than an empty warning made by a coward
No
Sent!
A smirked curved onto the sender’s lip, seeing the new email on his phone. Lanky fingers ran through a pair of (H/C) locks, yet again, as a precious angel was asleep on their shared bed. Careful not to wake his lover up, Nagito began to dig through the tabs on his safari phone app, eager to make a bomb
“Serves him right for overworking my precious angel of hope......”
#nagito x reader#nagito komaeda#nagito komeada kin#nagito headcanons#nagito oneshots#danganronpa x reader#danganronpa#danganronpa x y/n#nagito x you#danganronpa oneshot#danganronpa goodbye despair
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Hello hello~ I see that you decide to write yandere request! So, for a nice start, maybe some hcs for yandere!Octavinelle boys ( yes I know I'm obsessed with them– ) that has a crush on fem!reader? If my request are too much you could reduce the characters down too, thank you in advance!! *send tons of ❤*
hello hello ! i also love the octavinelle boys but i have to admit that it physically hurt me to write all this octavinelle babies my heart ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚ salute to all of the yandere writers out there, my admiration to you after writing this knows no bounds. this was fun though so thank you for this ! i also want to thank @beheadedruler for helping me out when i was stuck with writing about jade ! listened to kk bubblegum all throughout the writing process to calm my weak rabbit heart
【yandere octavinelle headcanons ; warnings : abuse, non-consensual, self-harm, you may hear remnants of me sobbing in the background】
Azul Ashengrotto
He knew that he liked you the moment you turned down his contract.
He had politely offered you one after seeing you in such “desperate need of his assistance”. When you declined, the way you flitted away the contract in his hands and looked at him in pure disgust sent sparks all throughout his body until the tips of his very fingers tingled with an electrifying excitement.
Since then, he’s thought of nothing but you and how he wanted you to become his.
He tries to make himself look more and more “irresistible” as days pass on, to the point of unnatural perfection. Nothing but the best if he’s going to be your future partner (which he believes is an irrefutable fact).
He’s no Pomefiore student but he does what he can; scrubbing down his body with a special foam that leaves him swollen and raw for a couple of hours but keeps his skin clear and polished, putting on cream to his face that burns but makes it seem as if he were glowing and bringing out the warmth in his natural flush, applying a putrid oil into his scalp and combing his hair until the strands turn silky and styled, and even touching his eyelids and lashes with a charm-spelled shimmering powder that for a while irritates his eyes but leaves a lasting allure effect for good measure.
He goes to great lengths just to get your approval. If you didn’t like anything about him, his dorm or his business, he’d get an answer out of you in the most roundabout manner and fix it immediately.
He’d easily get a hold of your schedule every week. The tricky part is to constantly have to convince anyone who has plans with you to “suddenly cancel on the last second”. Sure, it was nothing a good old deal could fix but the Monstrolounge can only handle so many injured unpaid workers.
Almost magically, he’ll be there to substitute, deliberately putting on a show just to make it seem like a coincidence. Say you’d be walking out of your classroom, disappointed at one of your friends who had left you alone and excused themselves from hanging out with you. He’d be there passing by, claiming to be doing his “dorm leader rounds” and casually asking you about your day or the troubled look in your eyes. You’d let yourself be brought about by his caring nature and soon, he gets you to invite him to hang out with you.
He likes to help you out whenever he can, though of course, everything has a price. He’ll offer you a deal for anything you want in exchange for something simple like working at the Montrolounge for a few hours or a study session with him, Floyd and Jade. If you had your doubts, he’d read to you every bit of the information written on the contract. He’d even point out all the fine prints and let you negotiate on a few terms. None of it really mattered so long as he gets to see you sign it, willingly.
Somehow, he ropes you into having lunch with him at the cafeteria every Monday. The Leech twins always escort you to his table, like a meal prepared especially for him. He finds your discomfort delectable but tries to hold back whenever he notices you getting too worked up.
floyd leech
You were someone he thought was interesting enough to keep an eye on.
When he realizes you’ve managed to worm your way into his heart, he’ll explode into boisterous laughter thinking, “How fun~! How fun this is going to be~!” He hadn’t exactly expected it, thinking of you as a mere plaything he could mess around with from time to time.
Now, everyday is a game to him.
Whenever he sees you near, he’ll come up to you and give you a hug! For every time he sees you in a day, the tighter his hugs get. It takes a great deal for him to not gobble you up after seeing you so uncomfortable in his arms, squirming to be released from his hold like a little worm caught on a hook. This is a game after all and he’s gotta play fair or else you won’t have any fun.
Usually, you’re an instant cure to one of his moods but when he’s really not feeling it, he gets a little clingy. He’ll snuggle up to you quietly and force you to take care of him. Not with words, oh no, but by following you around all day and moping until he gets what he wants; getting in your way whenever you trying to speak to anyone about important matters, constantly sighing and whining loudly whenever you’re doing your schoolwork or wanted to have some peace and quiet and leaving his weight on you so that you’ll be forced to either drag him around or fall under the pressure of his heaviness. He’ll do all this and more until you’re forced to pull him aside and angrily ask him what he needed you to do to get him to stop.
He’d always ask you for things he knows will make you feel uncomfortable like giving him a kiss on the cheek or walking down to the Monstrolounge with him everyday while holding hands or making you feed to him his lunch or letting him watch you sleep or take a nap on your lap (y’all get the gist). There are rare times where his requests get a little strange (though pray that you don’t experience this a lot). He’ll ask you to cut your hair into weird jagged styles or write/ draw something embarrassing on your face with a permanent marker or ask you to do a bird’s mating dance at History class or pull a prank on the infamous Malleus Draconia.
Seeing your face transform from annoyance to an expression of sheer horror and regret always makes him laugh and give you a sharp toothy grin. Losers always have to suck it up! You’d be reluctant but do it anyways so long as he leaves you alone for the rest of the day.
Anyone who he catches trying to look at you for longer than a second gets to play with him too but instead of the game that you two always play, they’ll have something a little different that involves a lot of crunching bones and screaming. They’ll be too scared to even approach you after he’s done with them. Toys like them break too easily anyways!
He likes seeing you get hurt and will sometimes try to get you into small accidents like jinxing your broom or hexing you with clumsiness or making you use the wrong vial while brewing up potions.
jade leech
When compared to Azul and Floyd, Jade is a lot subtler.
Unlike the raging storms they carried with them, he was a light drizzle— his approach unnoticeable and quiet that you won’t even realize he’s etching his way into your very heart.
You came into his life as a pleasant surprise, much like the feelings he held for you now. He’s cautious around you, making sure that everything he does and says is nothing out of the norm since the last thing he wants is to give away his feelings to you and ruin his plan of making you fall for him.
He’ll gradually try to get closer to you until he’s able to excuse his actions as what “friends normally do” like hanging out after school or walking together to class or eating lunch at the same table.
Most of the time, he’s too friendly and polite for you to argue with him on anything. If you had even the slightest bit of uncertainty, he’d already be by your side reassuring you. He’ll whisk your thoughts away with sweet undertones and saccharine smiles, leaving you completely unaware of the mischief glinting in his eyes.
He doesn’t mind it when you spend time with your other friends, he encourages you to do so! Your social life is important and he somewhat enjoys keeping good relationships with them but when he grows to dislike one of them or sees them becoming a negative influence to you, he’ll immediately cut them out of your life. Friends are expendable. Why bother keeping them around if they’re no longer assets to the system.
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#azul ashengrotto#floyd leech#jade leech#octavinelle#soriwrites#yandere twst#twisted wonderland yandere#yandere#yandere x reader
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Hi yes mix-and-match anon so if you're still interested in the asofterworld version of the prompt when I said 31 I meant 31 off of your old asw promptlist which translates to asw 621. If not interested this is just a hi glad you're active on tumblr again! I still love your writing!
A/N: Hello, mix-and-match anon! :D
I’ll be honest, I’m kinda cheating here because I’ve been kinda wanting to write this particular fic (or some iteration of this particular fic) for a while but I didn’t quite know how to construct it. However your prompt finally launched me in a direction even though it’s definitely drifted away from the prompt itself so thank you! I hope you enjoy even though it’s still kinda rough and I’ll probably be editing it over the next couple of days to make it more coherent and less of a bloated run on mess.
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meeting and incidents unraveled
Haruno Sakura is not oblivious to the blessings and advantages she has in life.
Caring and supportive parents, a stable home life with all of her needs and a majority of her wants met. Tuition at a good school with an intellect and self-discipline to make the most of it. Pretty enough looks to be, if not popular, then well liked among her peers.
She also is not oblivious to the sort of future all of that will give her.
Acceptance at whichever university she chooses, leading to a solid, successful career in whatever field she chooses. Kind and caring relationships paving their way to a kind and caring marriage. A caring, supportive, stable future just as caring, supportive, and stable as her past.
How boring.
But she doesn't have it in her to rebel and break away, grateful for those blessings and advantages for all that they keep her on a track. There's nothing wrong with success and stability. She's not oblivious to that, at least.
She just wishes for something a little bit... more.
---
I love the way your face lights up
when someone says,
"It might be dangerous."
(I am glad we are friends.)
---
(it could have gone like this)
"Do you think she's lost?" Sakura asks her classmates, bringing their attention to the window. Clean up duties after school are hardly fun, so any distraction is a welcome one.
There's a girl standing in the shadow of the tree in the courtyard. About their age, maybe, but the school uniform doesn't match theirs at all. Almost as if she feels Sakura's gaze, the girl meets her eyes and smiles--but surely that's not right. Sakura is up on the third floor.
"What are you talking about?" Tanaka-kun asks, looking out the window and somehow failing to see. Their other classmates on clean up duty also look, but none of them spot the girl either.
"Oh, nothing," Sakura says, dropping the matter immediately. She doesn't want to be known as the weirdo who sees things that aren't there. "I can't believe Honda-sensei assigned so much homework over the weekend!" She deflects and her classmates follow the prompt easily, the new topic of conversation out of her hands.
When Sakura looks back out the window, the girl in the shadow of the tree waves.
---
Magic is better with three.
This is what Sakura learns after discovering magic is real, after discovering that she herself has magic.
Magic is better with three and magic has different Aspects and the different Aspects of magic resonate with different people.
Sakura's magic, she learns, has Aspects of Earth and Healing and Growth. Those are powerful Aspects, she's been told, she can do a lot of good with that even on her own.
But young magicians are put in teams for a reason. Magic seeks balance. The consequences of misusing magic--of overreaching with magic--are extreme at best and horrifying at worst.
Some lessons are learned the hard way.
---
(it could have gone like this)
"Oh, that's Shikako," Ino answers when Sakura finally brings it up weeks after the fact. Ino's magic has the Aspects of Mind and Flora and Adaptation which resonates nicely with Sakura's--perhaps in another world, they might have ended up on the same team, but in this particular world, well. Naruto and Sasuke are powerful magicians, but they're not very good at answering her questions...
"Shikamaru is one of my teammates," Ino continues, easily, "Shikako is his twin sister." Then her voice drops, tone a little more serious, a little more secretive. "Her Aspects never manifested."
Sakura hasn't fully absorbed all the nuances of magical culture, but this at least she can understand: without Aspects, Shikako can never use active magic.
"But she's absolutely brilliant with the academic side and she already has some research projects from the council," Ino says, quick to balance her words, and that along with the thinly veiled guilt is enough for Sakura to put the matter aside, moving on to other questions.
Still, though, it haunts her; somehow, simultaneously, in two different ways:
Shikako had been the one to find her. The girl in the shadow of the tree following a prototype magic seeker and finding a different girl who had never heard of magic, would never have known of the magic within her. Without Shikako, would she still be that magic-less boring girl destined for that magic-less boring life?
Alternatively, if Shikako had manifested her Aspects, would there even be a space for Sakura in this world of magic?
---
Uzumaki Naruto's Aspects are Sun and Belief and Present. Uchiha Sasuke's Aspects are Moon and Ambition and Past.
There was no doubt that they would be put on the same team.
Frankly, the only question was who could possibly match?
---
(it should have gone like this)
"Do you think she's lost?" Sakura asks her classmates. There's a girl standing in the shadow of the tree in the courtyard; about their age, maybe, but the school uniform doesn't match theirs at all. Almost as if she feels Sakura's gaze, the girl meets her eyes and smiles.
When it seems like none of her classmates can spot the girl in the shadow of the tree, Sakura drops the matter immediately. She doesn't want to be known as the weirdo who sees things that aren't there. She deflects and the new topic of conversation swiftly moves out of her hands.
Sakura looks back out the window, the girl in the shadow of the tree waves. Sakura exits the building, the girl in the shadow of the tree looks at her expectantly.
Sakura could ignore her and keep going--she has homework, after all--but even if she doesn't want to be known as a weirdo amongst her classmates, that doesn't mean she wants nothing interesting to happen in her life ever.
She already knows what will happen if she keeps on walking, ignoring the girl in the shadow of the tree. Sakura will go home, maybe stopping by a store or a cafe on the way. She will do her homework and do her chores and take a bath and eat dinner and sleep and do absolutely nothing out of the ordinary because her life is predictable and that's just a synonym for boring.
So Sakura goes to the tree instead.
"Hello," Sakura says, because even if this girl is merely lost and not some guide to a more exciting world surely there's no harm in being polite. "Can I help you?"
"Maybe," says the girl in the shadow of the tree, lifting one hand palm up. Preemptively, she makes her hand glow with a pale, almost distant light. "Haruno Sakura, do you believe in magic?"
---
Nobody is born with fully manifested magic.
Active magic requires agency, will power and vision. Those are shaped by a magician's sense of self, their personality and convictions. Their Aspects.
There's more, of course. But sometimes more can lead to decisions a little riskier than predicted.
---
(it should have gone like this)
At first there is no team for Sakura which is a little disheartening but also, simultaneously, a relief. Almost all of the other magicians her age have been raised around magic, she already has so much to learn and catch up on that it's almost overwhelming! She can't possibly imagine what it would be like being introduced to a new world and then immediately thrown onto a team with strangers.
But her magical peers are supportive in their own way--most of them friendly, all of them definitely interesting. Their teams are well chosen, Aspects resonating beautifully, and whenever she has the free time in between diving headfirst into her magical studies and maintaining her grades at school she wonders what her teammates will be like. If they'll match her just as nicely. If she'll even have teammates.
"Don't worry," Shikako says with a smile, supportive and kind and definitely interesting. Behind her, her teammates bicker as ever--and while Sakura will admit, blushingly, that she was a little infatuated with Sasuke in the beginning, she would go mad if she had to put up with him and Naruto for too long--but Shikako appears as calm and as fond of them as ever.
"I found you didn't I?"
She did, yes. How she found the time in between her own magical research, high-octane team, and normal schoolwork of her own is baffling to Sakura. She's grateful, of course, but still. Sakura isn't even doing half as much and she's barely keeping up!
"Don't worry," Shikako says again, and if her tone turns a little vague, her gaze going beyond Sakura, well. Shikako is a very powerful magician...
"... you belong in this world. Magic seeks balance."
And Sakura nods, because that is one of the earlier lessons she was taught upon joining the magical world. For all the strangeness of Shikako's tone, it is reassuring. So Sakura nods and continues to voraciously consume all she can about this new world she belongs to so that when her teammates do appear she'll be prepared.
Shikako finds Yakumo first--her Aspects of Sky and Art and Acceptance--then comes Isaribi with the Aspects of Sea and Transformation and Trust. And Sakura finally feels like she actually belongs.
---
Magic is not completely a science, for all that there is cause and effect. It's not entirely an art, either, though some talented magicians make it seem that way. There are some parts of it that are understandable, quantifiable and predicable, but there is so much more that is beyond human comprehension. Even active magic which requires, in essence, humanity, can be beyond explanation.
Aspects are an attempt at doing so, but for all that they determine the futures of most magicians, they can't perfectly encompass the whole of a magician's power. Because magic exists beyond words and definitions. Even abstract concepts can fail. Trying to apply terminology to magic? Might as well punch a god in the face.
And so when a girl born to the magical world, even if her Aspects manifest a little late, if there already exists a place for her on a team where she resonates so powerfully, well.
Stars and Determination and Future are close enough...
... for a human, that is.
---
(but it actually went like this)
A few months after an ordinary day in which no interesting strangers showed up to derail Sakura's life, she is on her way home from school. She's thinking about maybe stopping by a store or a cafe on the way, but maybe not. She still has to do her homework and chores before she can take a bath and eat dinner and sleep and do absolutely nothing out of the ordinary because her life is predictable and that's just a synonym for boring.
A pair of boys--about her age, maybe, but in school uniforms different from hers--stop her. They've been looking for her, they say, and while the dark-haired one is handsome enough that she'd normally blush and think it romantic first words, his tone and the fact that his blonde friend is also there ruins that theory.
Also, they know her name and that's weird. She says as much, which causes them to start bickering, and in their distracted state she takes the opportunity to escape.
The next day, on her way home from school--along the same, predictable path, of course--she is stopped by a strange man. Both unfamiliar and unusual. Almost his entire face is covered and his hair is grey and he slouches as if in apology for his height. He asks her if she believes in magic.
She knows a creep when she sees one and runs in the opposite direction. She'll take the long way home.
The next few days she changes up her route going home because, yes, sometimes she's naïve but she's not completely oblivious. It still doesn't really help though, because this time its a trio of strangers--thankfully around her age--but still not great.
"Those idiots," the girl says, flicking her long blonde ponytail in fashionable irritation, "I can't believe they messed up this bad. What an awful first impression, she's already spooked."
One of the boys, dark hair and sleepy eyes, just shrugs and responds, "Well if she's really going to end up on their team, it's not like her second impression is going to be much better."
If they're talking about who she thinks she's talking about she's not exactly pleased with them either.
The other boy, reddish hair and round cheeks, looks her in the eye and gives a friendly smile. Despite the situation, something within Sakura relaxes a little. "Would you like to try out that cafe? Our treat," he says, and its not an entirely unwanted offer. She doesn't have too much work waiting for her at home and she deserves something nice.
"Okay," she says, and lets them pay for her anmitsu while they tell her about magic, the magical world, and how she fits into all of it.
---
Humans are not the only beings capable of magic.
---
(but it actually went like this)
Sakura is worried and overwhelmed and frustrated and she knows she shouldn't complain because she does honestly enjoy magic and the world its brought her into and she wouldn't dare go back to that ordinary, predictable, boring life.
But she wishes that her teammates weren't so abrasive and prickly, that her teacher were a little more engaged. It's been months already since she joined Naruto and Sasuke's team. She doesn't know why they're being so difficult when she hasn't even done anything wrong!
She's headed to the training grounds but in a wandering path, if she's honest. She's normally a punctual person, but Kakashi-sensei has never once been on time and she can just as easily not talk to her teammates here as she can at the training grounds.
The part of the city she's in isn't so urban as to have skyscrapers, but in this district the buildings are all at least several stories and practical, blocky metal and cement. The looming structure made of curving wood and stone looks more like a tree than anything else.
There is a girl standing in the shadow of the tree that isn’t. She meets Sakura's eyes, smiles, and waves.
Sakura has been studying the magical world. Knows about the dangers young magicians can face in a world that wants to eat them alive. Knows that nice exteriors don't necessarily mean kind hearts.
But she also knows, somehow, that if she walks away now she will never see this girl again.
"Hello," Sakura says, because there's no harm in being polite, "Can I help you?"
"Maybe," says the girl in the shadow of the tree that isn't. "Haruno Sakura, do you believe in destiny?"
---
Gelel: Light, Unity, Creation.
Jashin: Void, Suffering, Destruction.
Magic seeks balance.
Magic is better with three.
---
"If you could," the girl begins, a wistful sort of smile on her face, "tell them I said its not their fault. It was entirely on me. I overreached and had to face the consequences."
"What did you do?" Sakura asks before she can swallow down her curiosity
Shikako says, "Some lessons are learned the hard way..."
At first, Sakura thinks that's all she will say, a dismissive sort of answer, but then Shikako continues:
"...but perhaps not all of them. Hopefully you’ll learn from my mistakes," she says with a small bitter smile, gaze going beyond Sakura.
"I foresaw danger and thought I could prevent it,” Shikako says, almost a confession. “But the more magic I had, the more danger arose, until I found myself trying to make a deal with the Shinigami."
If any of the horror Sakura feels is showing on her face, Shikako doesn't let that deter her.
"Unsurprisingly, the Shinigami is very good at making deals and somewhat overworked." Shikako's smile is wider now, more real. "I asked him for the world where all of my friends and family lived. He said I should make it myself."
"So now I'm Death's apprentice," she shrugs, almost casual about it even though the very concept is giving Sakura a headache. "Shikabane-hime, the Lady Cosmos, the Space-Time Witch, whatever," she lists, rolling her eyes, impossibly blasé about her various titles.
"It's not so bad, I guess. But I do miss my friends and family."
Finally, something Sakura can wrap her brain around! "Do you want me to tell them that, too?"
Shikako blinks, almost surprised, before she tilts her head. "Maybe? I mostly meant that, well... I know in this timeline I’m just a stranger, but it's nice to see you again, Sakura. And just in case you had any doubts: you were always destined for greatness."
~
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A/N: If you couldn’t tell from this mess, it was supposed to be more xxxholic/CLAMP than Madoka Magica (which I haven’t actually watched) but from what little I know of the latter, I wouldn’t blame anyone for getting that sort of vibe. Don’t worry, it’s kinda a good ending. I mean, Shikako literally made a deal with multiple gods in order to make it so.
edit: I have come up with a title/tag for this
“meeting and incidents unraveled”
#jacksgreyson#anonymous#prompt response#wrting#fanfiction#could should actually fic#a softer ask box#dreaming of sunshine#naruto#xxxholic#sakura haruno#shikako nara#meeting and incidents unraveled
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~Dating Headcanons for Giyuu Tomioka~
A/N: I’m running on no sleep for the last few days. Schoolwork has been eating me alive. Being in lockdown is chipping away at my sanity. So my only sanctuary is to write dating headcanons for my favorite ocean eyed boii. Might write for the other characters so if I choose to write fics for them I’ll be ready haha. Giyuu fic is in the making. Enjoy!
＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝
oh dude if you go out with this fucker
expect it to be Soft as Fuck™
a marshmallow boii through and through
if you've dated someone before, expect to be teaching him the in’s and out’s of a relationship (and let's be real, that shit's going to be the best story fodder for the future kiddies)
(hope you're patient as fuck because it'll be hella rewarding when he opens up and starts taking initiative i guarantee it bitch)
if you're each other's first relationship, though, it'll be a bit awkward for sure but on the bright side of things you'll bond over not knowing how a relationship works and just sort of make it your own thing
(let's be real, you'd prefer to do things your own way and so would he because that meant less embarrassing moments atleast, he hoped)
please compliment the fuck out of him. He needs the love and support and by the gods would you be caught dead if this boii even remotely looks like he's doubting himself
eating simmered salmon? say he's doing an amazing job nah I’m kidding haha.. unless?
give compliments in moderate dose.
enough to rekindle the self-love that was destroyed by years of loneliness, hardship and depression
he may not be too comfortable with physical affection yet, much less PDA
so try to make him get used to it little by little. Hug him when you're alone. Gods know he needs that shit after being depraved for so long.
if he tries to squirm away (although i doubt he'll do because he's afraid of hurting your feelings) do let go, or just pull away at arms length
but also watch as he prepares himself before hugging you himself (because seeing your crestfallen face was enough to kill him until your smile revived him)
oh speaking of which, be very considerate of his opinion
he doesn’t speak much, but you figure it's because he doesn’t get the chance to or he doesn’t know how to speak what hes thinking correctly
so asking him for his opinion on things with a warm smile and waiting as patient as always will make him so fucking thankful
god what did he do to deserve you
will definitely be very protective (his demon slayer instincts have lead him through life far enough to snatch a treasure like you no way is he letting lose of those instincts anytime soon)
hope you're a bit outgoing because you're gonna be the bridge he needs when he doesn't catch social cues or the awkward pauses get too much with the pillars or other demon slayers
to be honest though he'd prefer it just you guys because he hasn't needed anyone thus far but you
just you, that was all he's ever wanted
not really clingy? but he's almost always at your side unless there's a mission
almost like he's subtly flaunting you, tbh, if you didn't know any better
dammit he's so proud of you but he can't seem to be proud of himself
he's always within reach when you need help or he needs you, but also he's like constantly reminding people to fuck off if they try to hit on you
not completely into hand holding juuuussstt yet, but intertwined pinkies? oh hell yeah. he's trying his very best despite the lack of experience so pinky holding is like the closest you'll have to PDA
first did it when you were talking to the other pillars. your breath hitched for a half second and just when he was about to pull away you intertwined yours and never let go. it's a common thing now
also a very subtle friendly fuck you to Shinobu because he's got best girl biiissshhhh who you saying was disliked? not this boii
in big crowds though you either hold on to the sleeve of his haori or he'll be down to hold your hand (especially if he's feeling overwhelmingly touchy that day),
kisses? oh fuck he's like putty in your hands he fucking belongs to you
he especially loves how you look after kissing him: soft eyes, blushy cheeks, and the most loving smile
god, he didn't think he'd ever see someone look at him like that and he'll never get used to it he fucking craves that shit
dates would include, but not be limited to:
staying in his or your place (bonus points if you're already living together because he's so worried of losing you (his house is decked out with warding and protective charms from Urokodaki and a wisteria tree in the backyard)), maybe just having a meal of Simmered Salmon and basking in the presence of one another, living in the moment in each other's company without a worry in the world
(until his crow comes screeching for another assignment)
(you'd throw the crow out if you didn't love how stupid it was)
also picnics by a stream (he likes the sound of the flowing water (in case of an emergency, his breathing technique will be stronger, too)) where you'd just talk as always. If you can coax him or he's missed you too much, he'd lay his head on your lap, eyes closed as you stroke his hair and maybe hum a lullaby.
basically, he fucking lives for doing shit with you. Anything. Y'all could be reading a book under the wisteria tree in his backyard while he trains and he'd never wish for more
Maybe a family, but he won't say that shit outloud
when he introduces you to Urokodaki he takes you to the mountain nearby afterwards
When you reach a plot of land decorated with rocks, he guides you around it until you reach a particular one. He places his haori on you and kneels down.
"Sabito, this is (Y/N)," he pulls you down next to him, and he doesn’t let go of your hand. You don’t mention that he’s shaking, only returning the strong grip he has. "(Y/N), this is my friend, Sabito. We both trained under Urokodaki."
You smile without missing a beat and talk to Sabito like you would anyone, albeit one sided so basically like how you usually talk to Giyuu lol
Giyuu tries to keep his tears in check as you talk to Sabito's grave but-
"Don't worry, Sabito. I promise to take good care of Giyuu. I love him, and I won't ever leave his side. You can count on me, so rest easy."
oh fuck you made the marshmallow boii cry
and now you're crying, too, holy fuck
you both are just hugging and crying each other out
goddamit you love each other so much
no one wants to let go so no one does
when someone pulls away, it's Giyuu because he's worried the sun will be setting so soon
you're a bit sad he pulled away, but the smile on his face despite his puffy eyes will be enough to fuel you for the rest of your fucking life because that shit's gorgeous why the fuck has he been holding out on you for so long woAH
oh you think that was it? hell nah. boii is fueled with Love™ and Compassion™ too so he gets the energy to press a kiss to your temple and hold your hand the whole way back to Urokodaki's hut
he tells you about all the others graves, mostly names, but also some stories as much as he can muster through his sniffing
(Sabito is fucking crying with Makomo in the background because he's so fucking proud Giyuu found someone to love him so much)
＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝
A/N: am I down to write Giyuu introducing you to Sabito? maybe. Lemme know what y'all think or if the headcanon was enough to quench the thirst of your lifetime dose of depression.
✨ Masterlist ✨
🌙 Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba imagines#kimetsu no yaiba headcannons#giyuu tomioka#giyuu tomioka x reader#giyuu tomioka x reader fluff#giyuu tomioka x reader headcannons#urokodaki#sabito
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Could I please request Hux at the academy pining after his f! classmate?? How it resolves is up to you but I really love your writing and one of my favourite parts is how you write people pining! It's so sweet and really makes me feel the pangs of loneliness and flutters of excitement!
Graduation
Definitely! And thank you for saying so many nice things about me 🥺
Requests are closed for now, but will be opening again very soon ✨
Armitage Hux x Classmate! Reader
Warnings: Fluff and Yearning 😘
Ranking days are the worst days at the Academy. Or at least, they’re the worst for Armitage, who is sure that they were invented solely for the purpose of embarrassing him. Finding ways to publicly shame his son is certainly something that his father would approve of, and Commandant Hardaws is always seeking for the general’s approval.
In reality, he shouldn’t be embarrassed by his ranking. In a class of more than thirty officers, second place was quite the achievement. No, the real embarrassment should be saved for people like Javy, who consistently fell to the bottom, or Ari, who could never rank anywhere above tenth. But it was Armitage who always felt the sting the most, because he should be at the top, or at least, that’s the way it felt sometimes. After all, he had received the highest scores of anyone in both military strategy and history, and no one—on or off campus—could match his skills in the sniping simulations. And every time another quarter would end he always felt a small glimmer of hope, like this time he really had won. Those hopes never paid off though. It seemed like Armitage was destined for second best.
This ranking day is shaping up to be the worst of them all; which is fitting, considering it’s the last. He files in with the rest of his class, finding a seat towards the front of the large assembly room, the other seats already filled with the younger cadets, who are chattering about plans for the short break they’ll have before classes resume again. Armitage has no such plans. After the ceremony—and his official graduation next week—he’ll be headed to join his father on the Finalizer. He has mixed feelings about it, for a number of reasons.
His father is here actually, in attendance, sitting on the stage with some of the professors, and when he spies Armitage in the crowd a small frown appears on his face, like he’s smelled something bad. Hardaws—who most of the students refer to as hardass when he isn’t around—moves to the front of the stage, signaling the beginning of the ceremony and everyone stands, saluting him in unison.
“Be seated,” he begins, reading from his prepared notes in a tedious tone, like he can’t wait to get this over with, “thank you for attending the final ranking ceremony for this cycle’s graduates. We are very proud of their dedication to the First Order, and all that it stands for,” Hardaws drones on for a moment before beginning with the actual ranking, reading off names of Armitage’s classmates, starting at the bottom. One by one, they walk to the stage, shaking hands with their professors and his father before returning to their seats.
Armitage listens without interest as Hardaws announces where each of his classmates will be placed upon graduation. Most of the lower-ranking cadets have already been assigned to menial positions at different First Order bases, and only a handful are assigned to work on star destroyers. He counts himself lucky, in that regard.
“In second place, we have Cadet Armitage Hux,” Hardaws reads, and Armitage stands as the crowd offers him a light smattering of applause. He moves to the stage and shakes hands with his professors without much feeling. He likes them well enough, but he’s anxious to use the skills he’s learned in real life. He’s tired of simulations. Armitage returns to his seat, and some of the younger students begin whispering with excitement, ready for the ceremony to be over.
“And the cadet with the highest ranking is-” Hardaws doesn’t even have to read your name; everyone in the Academy already knows who is at the top. The sound of applause fills the room before he finishes, and you stand, accepting the praise with a humble smile. Armitage watches you with careful eyes, and when you catch his gaze, your grin falters. You mouth something to him; he thinks it might be the word sorry. Armitage swallows hard, confused by the attention you’ve given him. What would you be sorry for? Beating him out for first place? He doesn’t hold it against you, and it’s more than well-deserved.
You move to the stage and the applause only grows louder, each professor shaking your hand in earnest as you move down the line, ending with his father, who—miracle of miracles—offers you a small smile as you salute him. A fatherly smile.
Armitage should hate you. He should hate that you make it all look so easy, that you’ve beaten him consistently and done it seemingly without trying. But, despite the competition you’ve offered, you’re the only classmate that he actually likes. It doesn’t help that you were always so nice to him—like the time you offered to work with him on his hand-to-hand skills so that he wouldn’t fail the assessment during year one, or when you stood up to Kendaria after she called him a bitch in front of everyone in the commissary during year five. Armitage doesn’t hate you; in fact, you’re probably the one person he’ll miss the most, after all this is over. Not that he’d ever tell you that.
“She will also be joining the crew of the Finalizer after graduation next week, as one of the star destroyer’s newest lieutenants,” Hardaws says, and Armitage freezes. Did he hear that right? He probably should have expected it; with scores like yours any general would be scrambling to take you on, but the Finalizer? With him? He’s not sure how to feel about that. Part of him is annoyed; it’s so like his father to pick you to join the crew to serve as a constant reminder of Armitage’s shortcomings. But he’s a little pleased as well. Now he won’t have to say goodbye.
“That concludes this cycle’s ranking ceremony. Cadets dismissed.” Hardaws shuffles away from the podium, talking with the other professors, who all crowd around his father. For a moment, Armitage lingers, wondering if he should say goodbye, but he dismisses that thought. He hadn’t even bothered to say hello.
It’s raining as always, on Arkanis, and Armitage stays under the covered walkways as he makes his way back to the barracks. Most of the younger cadets are celebrating their dismissal, splashing around the puddles and making a mess of their uniforms. They’ll be going home tonight, to see their parents, and to spend two blissful weeks without any concerns of schoolwork or regulations. The eldest cadets are showing a little more self-control, but they aren’t immune to the feeling either. Technically, you’re all supposed to use the next week to prepare for your future assignments: studying up on the bases and ships, looking into possible specializations, but that’s unlikely—seeing as how none of you had been allowed to relax for even a moment during the last cycle. He can’t help but feel a little hopeful as well, though. The worst has past, and soon he’ll finally be doing the work he’s trained for his whole life, and you’ll be there, too.
He can see you, a little ways ahead on the path, walking with your friend Keel. You’ve let your hair down—out of the regulation bun now that the ceremony is over—and you shake it out, running your fingers through it at the scalp. Not for the first time, Armitage admires the way you wear your cadet uniform. They’re designed for function—no one is supposed to look good—but it’s somehow different on you than everyone else. Like it was made for you. A blush spreads across Armitage’s face, and he ducks his head down, hoping that no one will notice. He’s had thoughts like this before, but only when he was alone. He balls his hands into fists, squeezing them tightly, hoping to banish the idea of running his fingers through your hair, or unbuttoning the top of your uniform and pulling it down over your shoulders.
“Congratulations, Armitage,” he tries to sneak past you and Keel without notice, but apparently he’s been unsuccessful. He stops, turning to face you, his cheeks undoubtedly still red. You wave goodbye to Keel, who heads to the year six barracks. The grounds are mostly empty now; you’re the only two left.
“Thank you. Congratulations to you, as well,” he says, and you smile, falling into step beside him. He’s known you for years, but suddenly he can’t think of a single thing to say to you. Despite the breeze blowing past, his palms are sweaty, and he knows he must look very stiff, walking with his arms pressed down so firmly at his sides.
“Are you excited for the cadet’s ball?” you ask, breaking the awkward silence, and he suppresses a groan. He had almost managed to forget; Armitage was not looking forward to three hours of standing up against the wall and watching everyone else dance.
“I’ll be excited when we finally get to leave,” he answers, avoiding the question. He doesn’t need to explain all of his insecurities about dancing right now.
“I’m excited too,” you say, brushing the tips of your fingers over his arm for emphasis; it makes him go lightheaded, “have you spent much time on the Finalizer? With your father, I mean?”
“A little,” he says, reaching up to rub a hand over the back of his neck before he catches himself. He had spent some time on the Finalizer, but his father had forbade him from traveling to any of the more exciting areas. He probably only knows as much about the ship as you do.
“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” you say, and you stop when he stops outside the door of his shared quarters. “I don’t want to arrive unprepared.” You lean against the wall next to the door, chewing on your lip, and all of Armitage’s indecent thoughts from earlier are multiplied by a thousand. He really couldn’t wait to get to the Finalizer now. Hours of inevitable grunt work would be slightly more bearable with you at his side.
“Of course,” he says, and your smile is vibrant. He never feels inadequate around you. When he’s with you, he feels like he’s just enough. Armitage drops his gaze, moving to open his door, but you stop him, taking hold of his arm again.
“Armitage?” you say, and time has stopped, his heart has stopped, the entire galaxy has stopped as he waits to hear what you’ll say next.
“I’m glad I won’t be alone, when we go,” you say, “and I’m glad that it’s you.”
#armitage hux x reader#armitage hux x you#armitage hux oneshot#armitage hux fanfiction#my writing#requests#anon#Anonymous
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FULL STURGEON MOON – AUGUST,– PREPARING FOR CHANGE
The Full Sturgeon Moon observed each August gets it’s name from Native American tradition. In the areas surrounding the North American Great Lakes, native tribes would prepare for winter by catching and drying sturgeon, which were abundant and easy to catch in August.
What You’ll Need For This Ritual
Quarter Candles (yellow, red, blue, green)
Anthame
Large White Goddess Candle – I prefer a three wick candle to symbolize the triple Goddess
Paper and pencils
Throughout this ritual, any text surrounded by these symbols < > should be considered instructional and not spoken aloud but done in accordance with the directions
Full Sturgeon Moon Ritual Begins
I cast this circle round and round from earth to sky, from sky to ground. I conjure now this sacred space, outside of time, outside of place. The circle has been cast, we are between the worlds.
Calling the Quarters
East
From the East we hail and summon the mighty AIR spirits – come join us in this sacred ritual under the light of the full moon. We seek your guidance and knowledge in all things related to movement, communication, and freshness. Aid us in visualization of our future selves so that we may achieve our destinies. <light yellow candle>
South
From the South we hail and summon the mighty FIRE spirits – present yourselves within this circle and all the spaces surrounding it. As the bringer of both destruction and creation, you hold sway over those who walk among us. Teach us to harness your unbridled energies but also to see the beautiful transformation in nature after the flames have passed. <light red candle>
West
From the west we hail and summon the mighty WATER spirits – surround us in your glorious cleansing and wash away all that we carry into this ritual. We know that without water, life does not exist, but also that an overabundance can wash away centuries of work in a moment. Help us to find the happy medium that will balance our lives and our existence. <light blue candle>
North
Finally, to the north we call out the mighty EARTH spirits – come gather among the living and share the secrets of the elements, the soils, the trees, and the herbs. Teach us to respect all things that you’ve provided and to conserve for the generations that follow. <light green candle>
Great Goddess, mother of all of us; hold us in your loving arms and help us to help ourselves and our own inner courage. Lend us your strength, your wisdom, and your sound decision-making, as we walk along our chosen pathways. So mote it be <light Goddess candle>
Introduction
The Full Sturgeon Moon name comes from the Algonquin tribes that surrounded the North American Great Lakes. Other tribes referred to this full moon by different names; the Green Corn Moon, Fruit Moon, Barley Moon, Grain Moon, and the Red Moon. Most of the names are directly tied to crops that would be harvested in different areas around the country. The latter name, Red Moon is due to the fact that the moon rising in August always seems to have a reddish cast to it. The Ojibwe called the August full moon the Blueberry Moon, while the Dakota Sioux knew it as The Moon When All Things Ripen.
Full Moon Musical Interlude
This month’s selection is called the Pagan Moon Goddess Song – it’s hauntingly beautiful and will certainly put you in a sacred moon trance.
Original Artwork by Sara Stevenson (June, 2012)
Preparing For Change
We celebrate each full moon with a ritual cleansing and a lesson on how we can improve our lives or learn some wisdom from nature. The full sturgeon moon of August gives us a unique opportunity to discuss the topic of change. We can see change happening all around us this month. The heat of the summer is finally starting to wane, the fields are ripe and full of miracles of nature. Fresh squash, berries, flowers, and herbs are plentiful and the green tops on our root vegetables and vines are gathering size in the sunlight. Our children are enjoying the last few precious weeks of vacation before the abrupt change of the morning school bell and the nightly schoolwork. We are looking in our closets for longer sleeves and jackets in the evening and planning for the coming cold ahead. We experience these mundane changes with little to no fanfare as if they’ve become a comfortable routine.
Yet, with all the physical changes that we are surrounded by, many of us forget that this is a time of spiritual change as well. Our bodies have been running at top speed for most of the summer; vacations, trips to the pool, hiking, and of course wild crafting our favorite herbs and roots. During that period, many of us have slacked off on our spiritual growth – it’s a natural occurrence since there are only so many hours in the day. Yet, after many months of putting things on the back burner, our spiritual plates are either filled with excess information or nearly empty. Once we start to finally slow down, we come to the realization that something’s amiss and needs immediate attention; thus starts the beginning of a huge change cycle.
The point of realization is also the point of a potential problem, if we aren’t prepared. Too much information leads to nothing getting accomplished usually; we feel overwhelmed and passive. Too little leaves us feeling directionless and easily led astray. But, if we’ve properly prepared for this change, then it’s business as usual. Ironically, just speaking about it is the first step in the preparation; becoming aware in advance that it’s coming gives us time to schedule, budget our time, and plan time for spiritual healing. Often we need to play “catch up” or often “pick up” from where we left off in the spring.
There are many methods to get back in the swing of things. Some people keep a personal journal of their personal growth while others go a step further and write down a step by step plan. Some use the cycle of the moon to measure growth in conjunction with their own spiritual cleansing. Regardless of what method you choose, remember that this is a marathon and not a sprint. If you are feeling overwhelmed with an overfilled plate, take time to organize, categorize, and prioritize. I’ll repeat those three key things, because they need to be put to memory. Organize, categorize, and prioritize; organize your life so that you have time to address things; categorize them into groups that pertain to the same topic or a group of topics, and finally prioritize them. What is most important? Which ones are “low hanging fruit” that can be dealt with quickly and free up time to focus on other things? Do you need help with some of them? By asking yourself questions, you can order things in a way that doesn’t seem overwhelming and actually make progress.
Another important thing to consider when you are processing a lot of information – it might sound like a good idea to just say you’re planning to get rid of everything and move on, but that will only leave lingering thoughts that may stick with you for a long time. Remember that cleansing and clearing go hand in hand – it’s not worth cleansing something if you can’t permanently clear it from your spirit. True healing and growth will only come if you release the negative fully and completely and refuse to give it any energy, ever again.
Cleansing and Clearing
As we do on each full moon, we gather together to release negativity; to burn that which needs burning, and ultimately to reduce mental clutter. We also search for things to refill that empty space – this is where understanding becomes so important. It’s not difficult to identify the things dragging us down; we may not show it on the surface, but deep down each of us knows exactly what is the root cause of our troubles. Unfortunately we don’t always do corrective action. We often opt for the easy routes in life, sometimes accepting or settling when we could instead be growing and languishing in a life which meets out spiritual and emotional needs. It all comes down to understanding, making choices, and refusing to compromise our core needs, for any reason.
So tonight, before we commence in our monthly cleansing through burning session, take time to think about our lesson on change. Are you prepared to sift through everything and weed your personal garden? Will you follow through and rid yourselves of anything that has no value? Also, think about how you can harness the positive energies coming from your harvests and late summer activities. Look for ways to keep that magick alive in your life during the hard months of winter. Bring some of the outside into your home so you’ll have a constant reminder of where your life is grounded. Look for ways to excel rather than just settle. Seek out those energies and store them inside your spirit, so that you don’t regress when things are dark.
<Offer participants pen & paper to write down anything they wish to permanently banish from their lives>
Approach the fire and burn away that which no longer serves you !
<once everyone is finished, take a few moments to meditate in silence>
Cleaning and releasing is only half of the job. Do not allow negative energy to refill the spaces you’ve created. Trade the bad for something better; something enlightening and pure. Leave here with a smile on your face, the understanding that there is more to life than just existing, and that change is always part of our lives, but also that you’ve got this! Change won’t stop you from growing. Stop sitting on the sidelines and engage with the things that take existence to living. Blessed Be!
Closing the Full Sturgeon Moon Circle
Spirits of Earth, guardians of the crops and the fields, we thank you for your presence in our circle tonight and for all that you provide us. As we watch the change from season to season, we shall again call upon your guidance to maintain our grounding and focus. <extinguish green candle>
Spirits of Water, cleansing, sustaining, and flowing, we offer our praises for your never-ending refreshment and thirst-quenching magick. We know our lives will rise and fall, just as the ocean tides do, but will trust in your strength to keep us from sinking. <extinguish blue candle>
Spirits of Fire, source of all passion, heat, and warmth, we are humbled by your collective energies gathered in this circle tonight. We sought to understand your many faces, so that we may work harmoniously with you throughout the changing seasons. <extinguish red candle>
Spirits of Air, where wisdom resides, and motion is never ceasing – we thank you for reminding us that change is inevitable but nothing is impossible unless we surrender our ambitions and choose to fail <extinguish yellow candle>
Beloved Goddess, Mother of all living things, we thank you for your comfort in times of sorrow; your compassion in times of weakness, and your never-ending wellspring of spiritual love for each one of us <extinguish Goddess candle>
This Full Sturgeon Moon circle is open but never broken!
By Thegypsy
https://www.thegypsythread.org/full-sturgeon-moon-2019/
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Find Me
Chapter Nine - Choose Your Own Adventure
Previous Poll Result: Bedroom
When they arrived to her apartment they knew something was terribly wrong, even before they opened the front door. A negative energy surrounded them, collecting in their chests and laboring their breaths. Something within them warned to move with caution and so they did.
Kyoya pulled out his spare key and unlocked the front door. Before he turned the doorknob he whispered over his shoulder, “Just in case there is someone inside, Mori and Hunny stand by my side. Be prepared to walk in first.”
The two nodded and pushed past the twins to stand beside Kyoya. Just as he pushed the door open the two barged in and stopped short of the threshold; raising tight fists and spreading their bent legs ready to defend - or attack.
Her apartment appeared to be empty but it was far from Haruhi’s normalcy. She was a tidy person, one who always took care to leave a clean home, but what they saw instead was a disturbing mess. Cushions were ripped open and their stuffing sprawled across the floor, her schoolwork and textbooks ripped and scattered like snow, framed pictures were bashed open and ripped, and even her cheap wooden furniture was broken and splintered. Haruhi didn’t own much despite Kyoya insisting he’d lavish her space but everything to her name had been utterly destroyed.
“Who did this...” Mitsukuni whispered in total shock. He looked around the room with tears in his eyes, unable to believe that someone was truly after Haruhi.
Kyoya couldn’t believe it either. Although they were engaged she was still considered a commoner. Her very home proved that. She refused to move in with him and refused his money when he offered her help. He knew she was trying to prove to his father that her marrying him wasn’t for money or status but it wasn’t her responsibility to worry about that. She wasn’t a threat to society in any way, unless he counted their union a threat.
His eyes widened when a thought crossed his mind. What if they’re not after Haruhi... but after him?
“It stinks in here, did she forget to take out the trash?” Kaoru complained to himself as they entered her apartment. They were all careful to step lightly around her apartment, careful not to disturb any evidence the Black Onion Squad could find later.
They would leave the fingerprints and DNA scanning to the professionals. Right now they were searching for... for...
Kyoya didn’t know what they were searching for, honestly. He came here knowing this was the last place she’d been before they left the evening. He hoped they could find anything that would lead them on the right path; a threatening letter, a strange piece of clothing, anything.
He did agree with Kaoru though, her apartment did stink which was very out of character for Haruhi. She was mindful to freeze food scraps so they wouldn’t rot in the trash bin. This smell however didn’t smell like rotting vegetables... it was much more pungent with a metallic tinge... like rotting meat.
“What are we looking for Kyoya?” Tamaki asked as he studied a broken wooden shelf with its contents spilled onto the floor.
“Anything suspicious, anything that Haruhi wouldn’t own.” Kyoya responded, squatting down to inspect a pile of mail that had been ripped open and shredded.
“I don’t understand... why would anyone do this to Haruhi?” Hikaru sighed sadly while he looked around the kitchen. Her rice cooker was thrown against the floor and most of her porcelain dishes were smashed against the wall, collecting in dusty piles on the counters.
“Because she was going to marry an aristocrat.” Kaoru said sadly, peering into the bathroom to find her vanity lightbulbs smashed, the shower curtain torn down, and the wall mirror cracked.
“She will marry an aristocrat.” Kyoya barked as he stood up. “Do not talk about her as if she’s gone. Don’t talk about her in past-tense.” He gritted his teeth to hold back his tongue, wanting to yell and scream and unleash the overwhelming anxiety building in his chest and poisoning him like acid. His entire body ached, his head throbbed with pain, and he was growing tired in holding back his tears but he wouldn’t unravel.
For Haruhi. She needed him and he was going to be strong for her.
A pitched scream snapped his attention to the twins standing in her bedroom doorway. Hikaru stumbled backwards with hands covering his mouth but he didn’t stop screaming. Takashi had to move fast to catch Kaoru before he fainted on the floor. When Takashi caught him he was able to look inside and his eyes grew in-explicitly wide.
“Mitsukuni! Kyoya!” He shouted without moving his eyes, as if he were transfixed in horror.
When Mitsukuni entered the bedroom he immediately threw up, spilling his empty stomach all over the wooden floor.
Hearing Takashi raise his voice filled Kyoya with a dark dread as he rushed over, half expecting to find a horrific sight that he refused to even consider all this time.
It was a possibility, a decent possibility, but he couldn’t bear considering her gone. He couldn’t fathom forever losing her, his one and only.
Nevertheless, he prepared himself to find her lifeless body. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to, but his terrified mind pushed him to. Just in case, he would be minutely prepared to accept the emotional blow. But when he ran into the bedroom...
“Ranka!” Tamaki cried as he rushed in after Kyoya, stopping immediately a few steps in.
“No...” Kyoya whispered in disbelief. Before him lied his future father in law, sprawled across the floor. His blood had soaked into the wooden panels and Haruhi’s futon. The way his body fell to the floor suggested he was attacked from behind and that was proven correct by the bullet hole in the back of his skull.
Thankfully his face was turned away but Kyoya could only imagine the expression forever painted on the man’s face - one entirely of anguish.
Kyoya pulled out his cellphone with a shaky hand and speed dialed Tachibana. He couldn’t hide the quiver in his voice as he instructed for a medical analysis team to scrape the apartment. Tachibana could hear the pain in his master’s voice but he wisely didn’t ask any questions, only accepted his orders and promptly hung up.
“Do not touch anything.” Kyoya bitterly warned. The former hosts could only nod their acknowledgement, unable to move from their shocked stances.
“Why...” Mitsukuni whimpered, unable to look away from the horrific sight before them.
“He probably came to check her apartment when he heard Haruhi went missing.” Tamaki said quietly, almost sounding distant.
Her bedroom was also in disarray. Her clothing lied on the floor around Ranka’s body, more ripped pictures were scattered across the floor, and even her closet doors had been kicked in.
“He was here at the wrong time.” Kaoru whimpered, sniffling back his sadness. He used his sleeve to wipe away stray tears that trailed his cheeks.
“No,” Takashi said carefully, “Look at how none of the clothes are beneath his body. He was murdered before they tore apart her apartment.”
Kyoya’s eyes widened, instantly realizing what Takashi was pointing out. He was right, none of her clothes were trapped beneath his body. They either lied beside him or lied atop him.
“They were waiting for him.”
What should the hosts do next? (Click to Vote)
I managed to update on time! I hope you’re enjoying the story so far :).
Next update should be around 1:00am (ETS). Poll will end one hour prior.
#ouran high school host club#ohshc#choose your own adventure#find me#tamaki suoh#Kyoya Ootori#haruhi fujioka#mitsukuni haninozuka#takashi morinozuka#hikaru hitachiin#kaoru hitachiin#poll#vote
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If the Spit Hits the Fan Pt VI (Glee)
Have another chunk of WIP. It’s...going. Somewhat.
Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV and pt v.
Going back to school the next week isn't exactly a joy. Being thrown into a bigger role with practically no preparation had meant skimping on schoolwork in order to manage, meaning he's got some catching up to do now. Only he's also got the final days of campaigning for class president to do. And trying to be supportive when it comes to his dad's campaign.
He kind of wishes he had it in him to just bow out of the election. With Tony on his resume Kurt doesn't need it to pad his application any longer, and it's quite honestly more of a hassle than it's worth. However, it's not who he is. Kurt Hummel doesn't back down just because things are difficult, and this isn't going to be the first time. Of course, he might have, under other circumstances but not this time. Rachel's already withdrawn, meaning his opponents are down to Rick the Stick and Brittany. Which...no.
Brittany's a dear, but Kurt doesn't see her as a viable candidate. Not just because she shouldn't even be allowed to run, what with her GPA and everything, but because she's just running to make Santana happy. She wouldn't know what to do should she win.
And yet, all of the reasons why she isn't a good choice withstanding, Brittany's still the better option. Having someone clueless and probably useless is better than someone who's definitely useless, a bully and who knows how to use any and all position to treat others like shit.
Neither is a truly good option though, and so Kurt's hanging in there even though he'd rather not.
He wins. Only he doesn't. And that's not even the worst part.
“You want to suspend me? Not only are you taking senior class president away from me, but you want to suspend me as well? No.”
Kurt glares at Mr Figgins and Mr Schue – and why is he here anyway? – and raises a hand when they begin talking.
“I didn't cheat. So why should I be the one punished here?”
“We have witness to you sharing your plan.”
“Oh my god. I made a joke. I was worrying that beating the candidate who promised to walk around topless if she won – and I'm still waiting for an official reaction to that, by the way – and made a stupid joke about stuffing the ballot boxes. Like John F Kennedy.
“But that was all it was, a joke. This? Wasn't me. It's clear someone decided to sabotage the election.”
“Please.” Mr Schue. Why can't he just shut up and stop pretending like he cares? “Are we supposed to believe someone else stuffed the ballot boxes with your name, as a sabotage?”
A part of Kurt wants to just let them do this, to lie down and let them walk all over him, and then go home and cry. Call Sebastian – since no one else is likely to believe him – and complain about how unfair all of this is. But.
He couldn't fight being passed over for Tony. He couldn't fight Blaine disappearing. This he can fight.
Not to mention that a suspension for cheating won't not going to look good on his college applications.
“It wouldn't be the first time an election has been sabotaged to get to me. Sure, this isn't prom queen, but still. It's been done before, and whoever was behind that saw that the school would do nothing.
“Plus, it doesn't have to be about me. My father is running for congress, and if I were to be suspended for cheating it would reflect badly on him. It's not exactly hard to come up with reasons why a gay-friendly, arts-friendly congressman wouldn't be popular with certain people. And it's not like it would be the first sabotage there, would it? Just look at what happened to Santana Lopez.”
Kurt might not be that eager for class president any longer, but if this is about sabotaging his dad then he's not going to let it happen.
“Kurt,” and it's Mr Schue's I'm-disappointed-in-you voice. “I understand that you're upset, but trying to blame Sue for your actions is–”
“Again, no. Stop. I never said that. I never mentioned names. I do find it interesting that the first thing on your mind was coach Sylvester though, but that's on you. Me, I'm not willing to judge without proof.
“Mr Figgins. I expect to hear the results of your investigation during our next meeting.”
“Our next meeting? Mr Hummel, I think you have misunderstood things. There will be no more meetings. There is only this one, to inform you of your suspension.”
“Considering that the school's rules clearly state that a parent is to be present for all meetings regarding suspensions and expulsions, I'm fairly sure that we need to have at least one more meeting. My father is, after all, not present.”
There's some hemming and hawing, since apparently Mr Figgins doesn't think Burt Hummel's presence is necessary. Kurt disagrees. Just because he's a legal adult doesn't change the rules.
“Well, your father clearly didn't feel the need to be here, so I see no point in rearranging things just to please your sudden desire to follow the rules.”
And that...that's not okay.
“Mr Figgins. Stop. My father is in a closed meeting, and has been all day. I sincerely doubt you managed to get through to him, as it's emergencies only. Therefor it's not a question of him not 'feeling the need' but instead of him not being informed. If you push through this without his presence he'll be very upset.”
It's very pleasing to see Mr Figgins pale and start to stutter. It's clear that Burt Hummel's threats regarding the Defying Gravity diva-off is still alive and well in the man's head.
The next day is not fun. Kurt spends too much of it being told that he needs to confess and take his punishment. First there's Mr Schue, of course. Then Santana, who's upset on Brittany's behalf, and Rachel, who has switched to bitch-mode again, and even Mercedes.
Kurt stops listening to anyone outside of his teachers before lunch, and spends his free time hiding out in the library, either doing homework or texting Sebastian. (And the irony, it burns.)
It takes two days, and a very angry phonecall from his dad, for the meeting to happen.
Mr Schue's not present this time, for which Kurt's thankful. It might not be as good for Mr Figgins though, as it means he's the sole target of Burt Hummel's fury.
The man spouts a lot of bullshit, is basically trying to bully Kurt into confessing to something he's already said he didn't do, and doesn't even seem to realize that he's only making things worse. He also admits to not having investigated the extra ballots. It's clear that in Mr Figgins' mind there is no need to find another culprit when Kurt exists.
Of course, he tries to frame it differently, but that's what he's saying.
Even if it gets them nowhere Kurt still gets the pleasure of hearing his dad verbally nail the man to the wall. And then, after pointing out all the things Kurt mentioned the day before along with a few others, he goes for the throat.
“What was the final count?”
“I'm sorry?”
“What. Was. The. Final. Count? How many votes for each candidate?”
Mr Figgins hems and haws, but Burt Hummel isn't backing down. He just stares at the principal until what's left of the man's spine crumbles and he starts mumbling.
“Could you repeat that? In a volume meant for humans, this time.”
“Mr Nelson received about 50 votes, while Miss Pierce received almost 200.”
“And Kurt?”
“We're not –”
“How many votes did Kurt get? Exactly.”
The answer is 512. 512! That's... Even if he disregards the fake votes, that's still a lot more that Kurt'd ever dared to believe.
“Mhm. And how many fake votes did you say there were again?”
Oh. There are about 500 seniors at McKinley, give or take, and close to 800 ballots. Even if they round it up to 600 and claim all the false votes had Kurt's name on them there were still over 300 votes for him. He won. He should be senior class president.
“So what you're saying is that my son got the most votes, even if you remove all the fake ones, and instead of congratulating him or even redoing the election you want to take that away from him and suspend him? Is that how you run this school, Figgins?”
Listening to his dad Kurt feels his own rage responding. He tries to hold it back, but when Mr Figgins tries to come up with some kind of answer as to why this was the school's response he snaps.
“It's obvious isn't it? I ran on an anti-bullying platform. If I win then that's the students saying McKinley do have a problem with bullying, regardless of what Mr Figgins and the rest of the faculty like to claim.”
Kurt knows he sounds much too bitter, but he's had it. Mr Figgins has spent three years protecting the bullies instead of Kurt. It ends here though. If that means letting his father use – or even abuse – his new power, then Kurt will take it. Happily even.
It's too late to save his time at McKinley. This is to save his future – and that of everyone coming after him.
He can hear his dad gear up to hand Mr Figgins his ass, and as satisfying as it'd be in a way Kurt doesn't have the energy for it. He's beyond done.
“Here's what's going to happen. You, Mr Figgins, will tell the faculty and everyone else who asks that I'm innocent. I don't care how you explain the stuffed ballot boxes, or your lack of an investigation, as long as you make it clear that you had no grounds for accusing me. You will also write a letter stating the same, right now, and sign it for me.”
“And why exactly would I do any such thing?”
“Because if you don't I'm going to sue. Not just the school, but you personally. Starting with defamation of character. But, since my dad taught me that if you're going to do something you should do it properly, I won't stop there. If you force me to sue I will make sure to bring up every time this administration has failed me. And that's a lot, Mr Figgins.
“You might think you can get away with doing nothing, but this is the kind of case that the ACLU does pursue. And if they don't I just so happens to have an in with the State's Attorney. Not to mention that unlike you I have this little thing called proof.”
Even such a miserable little cockroach as Jacob ben Israel has his uses, and this is one. Before agreeing to come back to McKinley Kurt made copies of every video Jacob had posted of bullying, and he's kept it up afterwards. By now there are a lot of them. Considering the amount that shows faculty members ignoring it... Yeah, he's got enough for McKinley to be in serious trouble.
Judging by Mr Figgins' facial expression he knows it as well.
“Also, if you do this I will gracefully bow out.2
Once the letter is written and signed Kurt makes Mr Figgins read it to him before taking it – making sure it gets on the recording he's secretly making on his phone, since he wouldn't be the least surprised to find Mr Figgins breaking their agreement.
“And how am I to know that the two of you won't continue this, this witch-hunt against the school?”
A witch-hunt. From Kurt's side. It'd be a great joke if it wasn't such an absolute reverse of what's been going on since he first entered McKinley. Kurt'd laugh, really, only he's afraid he'd choke on the bitterness.
“First of all, because unlike you I keep my word. Second, because I won't be here. I had a very interesting talk with headmaster Barnes over at Dalton the other day,” and wow, Mr Figgins' face turns an amazing shade of purple, “and he offered me a place there. Apparently he's rather upset with you – something about repeatedly ensuring him that bullying is no longer an issue at McKinley?”
Since one of those reassurances had been right after junior prom Mr Figgins has every reason to look like he's going to stroke out. Having been caught lying to another educator doesn't look good, especially not when said educator has friends on the school board.
“I've decided to accept the offer, seeing as it's once again been proved that no one at McKinley is ever going to try and treat me fairly.”
In the end Kurt walks out feeling rather pleased with the talk.
As he walks from Mr Figgins' office to the choir room the speaker system comes alive and announces that while there's been some irregularities Brittany Pierce is McKinley's new senior class president. Not a word about Kurt. He'll have to deal with that later – provided, of course, that his dad didn't hear it.
He's early, as classes don't let out for another 10 minutes. That time, Kurt decides, is best spent listening to music and steeling himself. The rest of the group won't be pleased to hear he's leaving, even if they haven't exactly made him feel welcome lately. Chances are Santana and Brittany will show up too, to gloat – at least in Santana's case – meaning things can get really ugly.
They do. One of these days, Kurt thinks, I'd really like to be wrong about something unpleasant.
He allows them a couple of minutes before slamming his hand into the chair next to him. The sound silences the others and he rises to tell them what's what.
“It's really interesting to see how this group, my so-called friends and the teacher who always talks about being there for us, decided to throw all kind of support out the window. You of all people should remember how I've been treated here. For instance, you were all there when I ended up prom queen because someone decided they just couldn't stand not being able to bully me.
“And yet now that another election's been sabotaged not a single one of you stops to think that maybe this wasn't something I did but instead something that was done to me.
“To think that I would have said you were my best friends.”
There are quite a few guilty-looking faces, but also a few stubborn ones. Santana is among the latter.
“Yeah? Well, we all remember how you said winning this was important to you, so you could get into a school full of Berrys. In my book you're one to talk, ruining Brit's glory like that.”
Rachel is visibly torn between nodding along and being upset over Santana's barbed remark, and Kurt's just...done.
“Don't worry, Santana. I won't be ruining anything for anyone. Not anymore. I'm done. I've been offered to come back to Dalton, and things being what they are I accepted. As of,” he checks the clock, “27 minutes ago I'm no longer a student at McKinley.
“I just wanted to say goodbye.”
He doesn't want to argue, and so he grabs his bag and walks to the door. Still, he can't resist giving Santana a taste of her own medicine and stops to whisper in her ear, making sure to keep his voice low enough that none of the others can hear.
“Brittany's so-called glory? That's on my expense. Whoever stuffed the ballot boxes didn't change the fact that I still got more votes than Brittany and Rick the Stick together. I don't know who did it, or why, but frankly? You are one of the people with the strongest motive. And if I find out it was you then you're going to learn exactly what 'ruining' means.”
He's going to treasure that stricken look on Santana's face for quite some time.
#chocoholic fics#kurt hummel#kurt fic#a wild sebastian appears#though not exactly in this part#anti-lighthousefucker#not edited or beta read#meant for an episode revamp fic#possibly even a season revamp#mckinley is a trash-heap#in 2019 we finish our wips
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smth i wrote a little while ago. i wrote professor kim w masculine pronouns bc idk just made it harder when referring to axel and alex in the same sentences lol
i dont have a specific time in mind for when this would take place. just like. assumptions that axel has a good relationship with his professor, and that his professor actually takes care and notice of his work (my impression anyway from axel’s bio). and like..... discussing both student and professional work? idk. professor pov.
and u kno what @se-serena
“Professor, you asked to see me?”
Looking up from his papers, Alex notices the way that this one particular student hovered in the doorway, and how his assistant was struggling to cover the starry-eyed gaze. With a wave of his hand, Axel walked the rest of the way into the office, door closing behind him with a soft click. Axel seemed to take the hint, settling in one of the chairs with an ease that told far more than he realised.
“Before we begin, am I speaking to Axel, or you today?”
That seems to catch Axel off-guard, even though it had long since been a regular thing. Normally, when they had these one-on-one sessions, Axel would state at the beginning, set the feel of it, whether professional or personal. But it would be highly unprofessional of Alex Kim to assume one or the other, when he was the one who had called the meeting first.
Perhaps he should consider it a great deal that Axel, singer extraordinaire, considered his opinion so highly. But there was tension growing in those around him, and well, he wouldn’t be in the position he was if he just ignored it.
“Axel?” his student hinges it on a question, as if he wasn’t too sure either. Alex couldn’t say that was the best decision, that he should’ve crossed that line they had made. A part of him had hoped Axel would understand the need for this to be speaking to the student, not the singer.
Oh well. Alex could work with it, no matter what. Not like there was much choice here, anyway.
“Alright. Before I begin, do you have any idea why I called you to my office today?” A classic teacher line, to gauge where the student in turn was at. Telltale signs of stress would show, such as nervously looking at every corner of the room, or wringing their hands.
Axel shows none of these, chin in hand, as he relaxed in the chair. Pokerfaced and resolute. Alex had to admit that he was rather proud of where Axel currently sat, as he remembered where he had started. Not just from the tutelage he received from Arlington, as a lot of the work was all Axel’s doing — most of it in his own time.
“Not really, sir.”
Fair. Alex’s email had been sharp and to the point. Meeting, Wednesday morning, ten thirty, don’t be late. Need to talk about your schoolwork, or so Alex had said. Not wholly untrue.
“There has been some calls from other teachers regarding your work ethic, Axel. And not just in regards to your music.”
“Then why aren’t they having the meeting with me in person? Leaving you to clean up their dirty work, aren’t they?” A certain level of snide creeps into his voice. Alex lets the comment run its course.
“As much as I would like to discuss your results in other classes, I can’t. I don’t speak for them.”
Axel leans forward then, a little tighter around the eyes. He had only returned to campus a week prior, but from what Alex understood, most classes had been missed (except all of his, of course). “So? What’s this about, sir?”
And with that, Alex clicks on his laptop, watching the screen slowly light up. Whatever attitude Axel was trying to pull, the clear signs of interest were showing, with how he frowned a little when an all too familiar song played. His last assignment, handed in only a day prior. Two weeks late, but reasons withstanding, Alex wasn’t going to linger on that. No, he had spent a good few hours picking the work to pieces, breaking down every lyric, every beat.
All his official comments and notes were in a file, ready to be sent at any moment. Axel could expect it after this meeting, no doubt. But the song ran it’s course, four minutes of it, before Alex paused the repeat.
“You didn’t like it?” Axel finally asks, when the silence grew.
With a shrug, Alex motions to it. “I did. Definitely one of your better works in the last few months, Axel,” and then he pauses, wondering how to fully phrase the next part. And he had spent a two hours slaving over how to expect this meeting to go. “Unprofessionally, your work has always stood out in some way. But professionally…”
Trailing off, Alex focuses on the hand he had extended, once animated with commentary. Fingers curl into his palm. “Professionally, the work is lacklustre. And you are aware of how it’s been for a while now, Axel, there’s no denying that.”
For his part, Axel remains silent, a careful expression playing on his face. This could go either way. Alex was prepared for it.
As he continues, he keeps a careful eye on Axel. “You have been doing the same thing over and over. The initial grab your music had isn’t there anymore. There’s no feeling behind the words.
“Whatever rut you are stuck in, it’s time to stop digging, Axel. Maybe it’s time to consider a different angle than the one you are producing.”
“What are you saying, professor? You can tell me, I’m not a child.”
Alex has to smile at that, as Axel’s tone betrayed him. A shame most of his peers were concerned with voicing critiques in class, as there was some level of reverence played towards Axel. Of course he was aware of it, when marking work later. How other students listed the same problems, and some of them had also suggested good ways to work around it, to break through whatever slump Axel had fallen prey to. But those went unsaid, which was why they sat the way they did now.
“I’m saying, Axel, that you need something new. Something fresh. Not the kind of thing you create just to satisfy an audience. At this point, you’ve given me the same kind of song several times over. And I will admit, your work is always at an incredible standard.” Soften the blow, Alex, come on. “You’ve always gone above and beyond.”
Axel interjects then, as if knowing full well Alex was trying to skirt around the issue with platitudes. “But?”
“But,” he concedes, and plays the song again. Softer this time. “There’s no passion in this work. It’s lifeless.”
That seems to rile him up a little. “Well, help me. Tell me what to do.”
Alex chuckles, despite himself. “I can’t ‘tell you what to do’, Axel. I can only make suggestions.”
“Then do it. Sir.” Ah, through gritted teeth, Axel was staying polite.
“Go back to where you started. Let your current songs settle. Do something other than music for a while.” With a sigh, Alex stops. “There’s only so much I can suggest to you, Axel. People sing about the moon, without ever stepping foot on it.”
“Are you telling me to sing about the moon?” Axel’s tone bordered on incredulous, maybe a little mocking, and Alex had to stop himself from huffing.
“No, but what I’m telling you to do is challenge yourself. Sing about something you haven’t experienced, instead of what you think you know. Cities, the ocean, love… a particular season, even. There are plenty of topics to make a song about, if you do it well.”
Letting that drop and settle, Alex knew what the reaction would be. Plenty of other students of all ages and abilities tended to short circuit on such a simple suggestion as love. Numerous songs had come through from all kinds of people, a range of themes and feelings. Anything from a song about their pet cat, to what a breakup would be like. Never let it be said that his department was untalented, as even those so sheltered before Arlington managed to convince Alex otherwise. And he took great pride in that, encouraged it, harnessed that talent. Execution, execution, execution. Something he emphasised to greatly.
His first classes started the same. Make me believe in something. Big letters across the board, as it would stay for the next few months. Sing me something I don’t know. Alex stressed it, constantly. Have him relate, have him feel. Have him dream of a set of lyrics that were a jumbled mess of words out of context, but in that moment resonated with him.
And he pushed it. Whenever assignments were due, songs would pour in, and those who understood what it meant, achieved.
Those who didn’t, sat before him, out of their depth, and showing the signs of it. Of course Alex knew Axel’s potential, how wonderful he was. And perhaps it was a little presumptuous to say that Axel had been one of his favourite students in a long time, because there was a lot of work in the future for the both of them.
But watching Axel splutter under the suggestion of ‘love’, as if some of his earlier songs didn’t contain those themes, was unexpected. Axel had sung about it, a long time ago, like he knew what he was talking about.
If he hadn’t turned bright red, Alex almost would’ve thought it was someone else all along. Wisely, Alex chose not to comment on his student’s complexion, and diverted the conversation back. “As I said, Axel, there are a number of topics to choose from, it’s just on you to make them come to life.”
“But,” he started, before clearing his throat. Alex felt the corner of his mouth quirk a little, trying as he was, at the jump in Axel’s voice. “But… people who like my work — like me — don’t want songs about oceans. I can’t do that kind of stuff for them.”
“Then sing for yourself.”
“You say that like it’s easy.” It’s a quiet admission, like Alex had finally managed to break through one layer. To anyone else, that may have been misunderstood, but Alex knew how much it meant, to start to see the student underneath the professional.
“I know it’s not. If it helps, sing for only one person. Sing for two, three, or ten. Not hundreds. Don’t focus your energy into what you think people want to hear, but what they need to hear.”
“Yeah, but who needs to hear about love? Almost every song is about it. Wouldn’t that just make me like everyone else?” From the way Axel raises his eyebrows, Alex can hear him calling him a hypocrite.
“Perhaps, but it’s all about execution.”
An eye roll, that set off the feeling this discussion was coming to a close. Definitely a shame, despite Alex knowing he got more in that he thought he would. Always a caution as to where particular conversations with Axel went. But this one? This one was positive — perhaps it could even be considered groundbreaking. Despite the heave of a sigh as Axel pushes himself to his feet, Alex could see the cogs begin to spin. Careful calculations were playing out before him, which only made Alex swell with pride.
“Enough for today. Hopefully you have plenty to think about.”
Axel nods, scratching his neck before crossing his arms. Taking a step out of the situation, it seemed. In the background, the song he had submitted for his assignment still played on loop, only ending when Alex finally closed his laptop. “I do have to say that, unfortunately, I can’t accept this for your assignment.”
Holding a hand up, as Axel snapped to attention, Alex gave him the best settling stare he could manage. “You have another week to write and compose a song. Think about what I’ve said, and I want to see it come into play. You’re an amazing musician, Axel. Remember that.”
#sweet elite#se axel#se alex kim#*my fic#embarrassedly tags se creator#idk what alex kim's pronouns are.........#m sorry
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Supervillains
Title: Chapter Two
Summary: Marinette was kidnapped when she was 6 and her cage was next to a boy in a similar situation. Tikki and Plagg renamed them to be Ladybug and Chat Noir, but they still don’t know who their companion really is. Suddenly, they are let loose into the world with no explanation.
Word Count: 2638
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I sadly do not own Miraculous Ladybug or any of it’s characters…
“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I was kidnapped at the park across my street when I was six years old. My mother had confirmed the date that I was taken was tomorrow, nine years ago. A lady that called herself Tikki and her husband, Plagg, were the ones who I perceived to be the leaders of the place. There was another person with me. I never learned his name, but we were about the same age. They gave us fake names, and we were kept in padlocked cages,” Marinette took a breath from her rapidly speeding words.
“For the past nine years, we have been let out to be taught like we were in school, be bathed, and have our faces repainted so we couldn’t see each other. There was a single light bulb that hung above us, and it would sway so little that you only noticed it in the days that weren’t packed full of the meds.”
“The meds? What kind of meds, Marinette,” asked Officer Leroy when she paused.
“Meds that make you forget what happened yesterday but not what happened the day you woke up in a cage.”
Sabine put a glass of water into her daughter’s hand and told her to drink and breathe. Tom moved a little closer to his baby girl. Marinette tried not to stiffen, but failed when she thought of how the last person that she had gotten as close to as she could was Chat Noir. Her Chat Noir that flirted with her when she needed it most and also knew when to tone it down and let their fingers reach between the bars and their foreheads simply rest against them. She wondered if there was any paint left on her face.
“They upped the meds last year sometime, they would only tell us the year. Also, there was a different lady that dropped me off at the park today, Trixx. She didn’t like us and neither did Plagg. Tikki could barely stand us. That’s it, I think. That’s all I can remember for now.”
“Marinette, it’s okay. It’s very traumatic to be kidnapped and kept in a cage for that long of a time, especially as such a small child,” Officer Raincomprix summed it up in one sentence.
“I am not weak, and I know it,” Marinette looked into her hands. “I want to go to my grade level in school and make friends. I want to be normal and have hobbies that don’t include delving into my past, but I won’t forget my past either.”
She smiled at her parents and the officers in the living room. “Can we clean my room and get things I want to change and replace before the whole media learns that I’m home?”
Sabine rolled the cart, trailing behind her enthusiastic daughter. She was in the aisle labeled “CRAFTS” and darting to craft after craft. She decided to get some basic sewing supplies and some sketchbooks with pencils. Sabine helped her choose a couple of outfits and lazy clothes for her dresser and finally let Marinette grab the white pillow from the front area of the store with a black kitty stitched onto it.
Marinette beamed at being out in the open, and Sabine smiled at the fact this was her child, the one that was there when she was six. In one of the grocery aisles, she bumped into Madame Césaire and her daughter, Alya, pushing the cart.
“Marlena, it’s good to see you. How’s Alya? I can see her back there,” Sabine wiggled a finger at the girl slouched over the bar and tapping away at her phone.
“Mom, what is she using?” Marinette peeked out from behind her own mother at the cellphone in her hands.
“It’s a cellphone. They were just starting to become popular when…” Marinette sighed when her mom wouldn’t talk about what happened.
“Oh my goodness gracious, is that your daughter? Sabine, didn’t she go missing nine years ago? You didn’t tell me and I don’t think it was in the paper,” Marlena was astounded as she began to stare at Marinette.
“Please don’t stare,” murmured Marinette as her mom explained when she showed up earlier.
Marlena and Sabine started moving in opposite directions and Marinette trailed behind. Her daughter looked familiar, but she didn’t know why. Maybe they played together when they were kids, because she had obviously not been kidnapped.
As she got in the car, Marinette realized that she had looked like the girl that Plagg called Fox. She looked so similar, but it was probably another child that was wronged by Tikki and Plagg. Fox came to the classroom sometimes to learn their basic schoolwork. She had mentioned coming there for tutoring, but Marinette doubted it was the same girl.
Marinette studied the outside world as they drove home and missed Sabine’s question.
“Huh?”
“I said, Mari, how did you like the store?”
“It was a store, I guess. It’s not like I’m six and don’t know what a store is. I was just happy to have something to do,” Marinette wanted to sigh, she didn’t want these awkward conversation starters with her own mom.
“You can address what happened to me, Mom. I lived through it and it won’t break me if you have questions. I didn’t have the luxury of growing up and I certainly can’t go back to being innocent about this now.” Sabine sighed, and she prepared herself for whatever questions her mom had.
“I just don’t want to push you, honey. I know you were a hardy child, but you’re so thin and I think you might break if a strong breeze came our way. I don’t want you to only think about this for the rest of your life, and I want you to become happy,” Sabine spoke quickly, afraid her daughter didn’t want to think about being easily broken.
“Mom. That’s what you’re worried about? I lived everyday in there, thinking about who were and who I was. I remembered what I was like and focused on that much more than what happened. Now I can just focus on the future,” Marinette smiled while she thought about what she could do next. Having nothing to do was the hardest part about being Ladybug.
They sat over dinner, Marinette prodding at her small plate of braised chicken and mix of vegetables. After so little food, it would take time for her to be able to eat more than what she had now. Ladybug never had more than two meals a day, and those were mostly very bland and hard.
“What are your plans for schooling, what level are you at?”
“I’m in my current grade level, Dad. I’ll be fine to go to school after this weekend. School gets out in July, so I still have over a month and a half to find some friends.”
Sabine smiled down into her plate as Marinette tried her chicken. She quickly started to cut it up and slowly eat it. Tom’s plate was almost gone by this point. Silence was tense, and Marinette pronounced herself done soon after.
“You’ve barely touched your food,” exclaimed Tom. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s great, really! I just don’t have that much of an appetite yet. I’ll try eating more tomorrow. Can I go continue cleaning my room?”
They ushered her away and Mari climbed the ladder and got the vacuum plugged in. The whirr comforted her and she knew it wouldn’t stop. Methodically, she rolled it over the floor in straight lines, sucking up the dust. After the floor was finished, she used the nozzle to clean up her bed and chaise that was brand new when she turned six. The bed had no sheets, and when she finished her vacuuming she went downstairs to find some.
She did not find sheets. She found her mother crying and her father teary eyed on the couch. She slipped back upstairs before they noticed her, and she continued her dust-filled adventure. The dust rags and fluffs were filled to the brim, and she had possibly finished as much as she could.
She opened the trapdoor to go downstairs louder this time to make sure her parents had enough time to collect themselves if needed. They sat on the couch, watching the news. It was her. Marinette’s face was on the screen, Marinette from when she was six.
“I don’t think I should help in the bakery tomorrow,” Marinette said as she started looking for sheets. Tom shook his head as they moved on to show the front of the bakery and a reporter in front of that live.
“Not much has happened in the household since her return. The bakery had closed early today in order to remember her, and she appeared shortly after. The police have revealed very little, but we will keep you updated on the case. Back to you at the station, this has been Nadja Chamack reporting for TVi,” the reporter’s face vanished and the anchors were back to address the next news story.
“She has a daughter, Mari. Maybe to get a swing on things you could babysit for her. Manon is a cute child and she also loves the park-” Sabine drew in a breath, watching Marinette closely for any signs.
“Yeah, I could take her to the park some days. It wouldn’t be a bad way to get outside before getting into a routine. I bet she’s wonderful.”
Manon was not wonderful. Marinette had met Manon only twenty minutes ago and already knew what a disaster she had gotten herself into. Manon like to ask about everything, and Manon also liked to run away as fast as she could and see if Marinette could catch her.
“Manon, come back,” Marinette called as she ran straight into a boy with blonde hair. “Chat? No, I’m so sorry please excuse me!”
The handsome blonde boy stared at the girl chasing down the wild child. “Ladybug?”
“What was that Adrien? Listen, sweetie, you need to listen to us because this is your first photo shoot. I still don’t know how your dad let you get so skinny. Now, can you stand, no sit, on the fountain ledge here? Thank you, now look at the camera,” the photographer stood behind the camera as Adrien shuffled into position.
“Manon, do you know what’s happening over there? It looks a like a big deal.”
“Some kind of photoshoot for a famous boy. Nobody but his family has seen him for ten years! Mommy told me this morning over breakfast,” Manon sounded proud that she could help Marinette, despite the fact she kept running away from her.
“Oh, that’s very interesting. What did you have for breakfast?” Marinette continued to chat with Manon but didn’t take her eyes off the “famous boy” and he seemed to look back at her quite a lot as well.
Ten years was a bit too coincidental to Marinette, but she put it off and continued watching the boy as people gathered around the area to see the photoshoot. She spotted Alya, the girl from the store yesterday and walked over.
“Excuse me, Alya was it? Do you know what’s all happening? Sorry if I’m bugging you or something,” Marinette burst out at Alya.
“What is happening, girl, is that the famed Adrien Agreste is having his first photoshoot for over ten years. His mom made his father stop before he was kidnapped or something and then his father shut him inside the house for ten years in vengeance. Then, his mom disappeared or something about a year ago, and finally after mourning his wife, Gabriel Agreste decided to let his professional clothing line be premiered on his own son! Isn’t that great? I found it all out through multiple magazines and rumors around the fashion community,” Alya explained as they walked away from the loudest part of the group.
“It is an impressive feat. If only they had you on the crew looking for me, you probably could have found me in a month,” Marinette smiled at her joke, and Alya burst out laughing. “The perks of having a roommate who loves puns.”
“Roommate? I never heard this on the news, would you consider telling me more?”
“Maybe some other time, if that’s okay with you. I have a babysitting job to finish and a kid to bring home to her parents.” They parted ways and Marinette took Manon home soon after.
“Hello, Madame Chamack. I saw you on the news last night, didn’t I?”
“Good afternoon, Marinette. And yes, you did see me standing in front of your bakery. I volunteered for the job so Manon could come watch what I do at a live scene.”
“I have to get going soon, but enjoy your evening. You can call my mom if you want Manon to go to the park again,” Marinette waved as she walked away from the house and went back over to the park. She set a pace to go around the park multiple times and set a course in her mind. It wasn’t the same way she walked yesterday, but was still similar.
She walked and thought about what was going to happen when or if Tikki and Plagg popped up again. She figured it would happen soon, but she wasn’t sure how they would do it. The last time she was alone, it was to pick up Manon. The time before that, when people were staring at her before her parents knew she was alive.
Stopping and sitting down on a bench, Marinette closed her eyes and let herself become Ladybug again. Ladybug knew that Tikki and Plagg’s appearance was a when, never an if. Marinette let herself hope. Ladybug wondered what would happen, and Marinette thought that she could just tell her parents and they would protect her. Ladybug and Marinette might share the same soul, but they would never have equal agendas.
She was so lost in thought that when she finally opened her eyes she could see only half of the sun over the buildings of Paris. Standing, she took a breath and became fully Marinette yet again. It was Saturday, and dinner would be soon. She walked home quickly, making her lose a bit of breath over the pace and her weak body.
Rushing up the stairs, she wondered what time it was and decided to get a watch. She found the door unlocked and walked in slowly.
“I’m home,” Marinette said to a delicious smell and a worried Sabine.
“Marinette! Where were you? I called Nadja and she said you dropped off Manon over an hour ago!”
“I’m sorry, I went back to walk around the park and then I got lost in thoughts. I was thinking about the future,” Marinette was telling the truth, but not the full picture behind it.
“Sabine, I told you to calm down. She would have been fine for long as needed,” Tom chimed from the couch, curled up in a fuzzy blanket. The news wasn’t on tonight, but some popular show called The Returned was on. Tom patted the cushion next to him, and Marinette plopped down.
“This is one of my favorite shows. It’s about all these local people who died years ago show back up and things just seem to go wrong,” he explained while she processed. Marinette still took a while to get things through her mind after so many pills were put into Ladybug’s shared space.
Marinette knew why he watched it. It was most simply because he thought his daughter was dead when it started and before she actually returned. It was heartbreaking to her, that her father got through his pain with a show that mirrored his real life.
#ml#fanfic#miraculous ladybug#marichat#adrienette#LadyNoir#supervillians#ladrien#my writes#yikes guys#this isnt even the true plot yet#im just getting started#lord help us all
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DISPATCH, (04/12/17): Mirage Media has officially released information about trainee, Lin Zhilong, as known as Jiyong, on Mirage Media’s Trainee’s official website! Jiyong here is a ‘93 liner and has been beloved by fans since he became a trainee under the company. Find out more about Jiyong below!
I, LIN ZHILONG, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of A TRAINEE and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of MIRAGE MEDIA.
OOC INFORMATION
Preferred name: rei.
Pronouns: she/her.
Timezone: est.
Other muses: n/a.
IC INFORMATION
Faceclaim: lee taeyong (nct).
Name: lin zhilong.
Stage name (if applicable): jiyong.
Idol concept: he hasn’t quite figured out what may be suited for him, or rather, what type of concept he’d be well invested with. being given a chance to be dynamic, he believes that concepts where he can be able to wear different hats would be best suitable. per say, having to jump from sharp, mysterious ones to having an occasional fresh and upbeat performance. regardless of how he feels, it’s his duty as an entertainer to wear the shoes of any image he is given.
Birth date and age: july 12, 1993 & twenty-three.
Company name: mirage media.
Group Position (if applicable): trainee.
Strengths: selflessness. he’s far more concerned about the demands of others. naturally, zhilong puts his own needs last before those whom he may be working with. valuing their opinions and objectives, he wants to be able to create harmony with those alike and establish a respectful, common ground. it’s a trait that can’t be helped, from time to time. might there be somebody to remind him to think about himself once in awhile.
learning orientated. if he would like to be known for a core strength, one of them would be his ability to learn quickly. although entailed to be a dance trainee, his brain works like a sponge for things outside of choreography. zhilong’s memory is very proficient: he memorizes details and important aspects mentally, as well as his muscles do when it comes to dance routines.
variety. although not having much exposure to the korean industry yet, zhilong’s noted to have a rather peculiar personality. he’s a quick thinker who says what’s on his mind. despite the fact that he doesn’t look like a person to be overflowing with extrovertedness, he’s relatively upbeat and friendly. humor comes naturally as it is candid and entertaining.
rapping. it was a natural born curiosity turned hobby, turned future occupational position. he enjoys rhyming and playing with lingual devices of all sorts. his wittiness makes up for his punchlines and rhythm through free-styling. he still has a long road to go to change the stigma with idol rappers amongst his seniors.
Weaknesses:
physical health. diagnosed with anemia from an early age on, it’s overlooked as an disadvantage. through physical turmoil, zhilong can become quickly overworked and his condition may decline. even without busy schedules, he may suffer with irregular breathing, headaches, lightheartedness, and so forth.
lack of dance background. in result of familiarizing himself with only one genre of dance, primarily hip hop, zhilong doesn’t have a concrete background in dance and choreography. he’s relatively comfortable in his knowledge of hip hop. knowing that it’s one of his strengths, he doesn’t feel the need to grow outside of his comfort zone to discover new skills.
linguistics. he knows mandarin chinese as his mother tongue, but still struggles every now and then with korean. zhilong’s biggest weakness in korean would be conjugating verbs, as well as forming syllables without sounding out the words and mixing them up to get a different term. because of his lack of near-fluent korean that becomes a hindrance, he fears that he’ll present himself either ‘unprofessional’ or ‘ineloquent’ to the general public.
mannerisms/family background. still adjusting to living in south korea, and gaining insight to his ethnic culture, zhilong wishes to adapt comfortably. he’s concerned with appearing as though he isn’t respectful in a land that is of his blood, more than his birthplace in china.
vocals. simply said, his voice wasn’t designed to be a vocalist. his best bet is holding a note comfortable within his range, though he knows his capabilities of that of a singer isn’t impressive. aspiring to strengthen himself in this particular area, he understands that the core of his talent isn’t with being a vocalist.
Positive traits: compassionate, straightforward, disciplined.
Negative traits: irrational, regretful, calculating.
PERSONAL HISTORY
life begins southwest of china’s sichuan province, a capital city named chengdu. most notable for its epicenter of the shu kingdom dating back to the 4th century, marks the city’s historical significance. chengdu hosts itself as your warmest form of experience; it’s all that you know and everything you wish to give back to. familiarity awaits you on its soil, your second home resides in the heart of the province amongst your family and friends. though there’s a blunt awareness that something doesn’t quite hold together. it’s not the people with nameless faces, or the foreigners spotted on their treks while you transport on the busー the matter begins with yourself. it’s not no silly-sorry occurrence where you begin to contemplate on life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
you’re not a dweller as much as you thought you’d be.
like most infants, your brain hasn’t developed much to recall your earliest memories. you try to reminisce, but nothing is discovered. instead, your memories have taken shape as federal, documented papers. much of your days were spent in an orphanage sanctioned in seoul, south korea. you’ve never seen the face of your biological parents, though you know that you were born im jiyong in july. quickly, you are swept into a neighboring country where your memories can properly manifest. your parents bring you up on chinese conduct and mannerisms. in a household founded by an upper, middle class, white collar-working couple in their late thirties, was soon dubbed as your home. there is no questioning their motives, their goals, but understand that you are their pride after much difficulty to conceive a baby. despite all the repose that financial stability brings, good health isn’t measured by one’s income.
your only responsibilities are that of schoolwork. occasionally you are branded with the burden of chores, which you find yourself procrastinating no matter the day and time. school tends to wrap up at two in the afternoon, you catch a snack on the train ride home, relax for an hour (perhaps study while you can), then prepare for your piano lessons. your parents were advocates for building a child’s worth of discipline from an early age, hence the ritualistic-like lessons. amid the routinely schedules, you began to consider the purpose of your identity, rather, than taking a spoonful of what you were fed with. many unanswered questions lead to a provoked bit of curiosity.
life continues on. the seasons change and there is no determining how might fate unfold for the better, or for the worse. to pursue living in korea to retrace back your cultural identity, sacrifices such as dropping your chinese nationality must be made. the country that nurtured you doesn’t recognize dual citizenships, nor do they see purpose in bearing a foreign passport. thankfully, mother supports the notion of acknowledging a child’s background, though she cannot watch over you as her profession is far too stubborn. father settles for the worst, he sits in his cubicle chair and in the bank of his mind, he’s analyzing the absurdity of the situation.
he knows you well, very well. one morning you wake up with the dreams of becoming an astronomer, an author, or an inventor who discovered a method to saving lives from an unfathomable disease. although you were a child with unimaginable feats and ambition, you couldn’t pinpoint what you wanted the most. therefore, change starts with coming in contact with who you are as a person. it starts in the most truest of your beginnings, your origins. even before all you had recalled from chengdu.
south korea is but an inch of an ocean away, so you turn to your grandparents in efforts of providing parental care. abandoning all that was built in chengdu, friendships and academic work, you arrive with a spilling suitcase and with a grandmother who can barely follow up. nothing is promised at the moment.
you don’t know if this unanimous decision will pay off.
it was a big leap towards the unknown, though you don’t feel an ounce of remorse, nor regret.
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