#everything. trying to is what drives me insane. but just as i’ve accepted i’m sure i harmlessly annoy ppl sometimes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ameagrice · 2 years

Text

Capsize

chapter twelve | Percy Jackson x fem reader.

Make A Deal With A God

You remembered falling asleep with your head back against the wall, and waking up to Percy throwing popcorn kernels into your mouth. He stopped when you coughed and it hit him in the forehead.

After a quick breakfast of popcorn kernels and a breakfast bar (which definitely did not fill you up) you found your way off the train at a stop in Denver. With a long stretch with your arms up as the four of you walked along the sidewalk, approaching a car wash place, you huffed. Hungry and wishing you could get a decent nap, you felt your anger beginning to build, especially as Grover munched on a can right down your ear. You were too hot, skin sticky from the humidity of the air, and you were sure you were beginning to smell gross.

“Let’s try and contact Chiron,” Annabeth said, “So we can tell him about the talk you had with that river spirit.”

“We can’t use phones, can we?”

“I’m not talking about phones.”

Walking through the drive lane of the car wash, Annabeth led the way as you trailed lazily at the back. The place was abandoned, dusty, and dead spiders were curled up and hanging from gross webs along the plastic screens. You watched with a judging gaze as Grover made his way across the stall to the spray gun hanging up. “What are you doing?” You placed a hand on your hip.

“It’s seventy-five cents,” he muttered. “I’ve only got two quarters left. Annabeth?”

“Don’t look at me. The dining cart wiped me out.”

Eventually, Percy came to his senses and handed over what you thought may have been his last coins to Grover.

“Excellent. We could have done it with a spray bottle but my arm gets tired, and the connection really isn’t as good,” Grover said, pushing the coins through the machine, setting it to ‘fine mist’.

You looked to Percy, who shrugged his shoulders, raising his brows. “I’m so confused.”

“I-M’ing.”

“Instant messaging? Like Facebook Messenger? I use it to ask the nanny for extra biscuits on her way over sometimes.”

Annabeth gave you the stink eye. “No; like Iris-messaging. And you have a nanny?” She scoffed.

“My dad lives in a different country for business. Issue?”

“Oh, guys, come on. How do you share a cabin like this?”

“Throw something at her.”

“Push Annabeth over.”

Annabeth shoved past you and took a coin from Percy’s outstretched hand. She stepped back clutching it and cleared her throat. “O Goddess, accept our offering.”

You crossed your arms. “You insane people,” you grumbled.

Your mouth shut promptly when you watched the whole coin disappear rather than fall through the water rainbow.

“Half-Blood Hill,” Annabeth requested.

And, baffled to silence, you watched with your mouth slightly agape as the water changed from rainbow to a real picture, like you were standing in camp. Standing by the railing of the Big House was a thin, lean boy with blond hair. Luke.

Percy called out to him, and the boy turned with startled eyes, before his expression changed quickly to a welcome smile. “Percy! Is that Annabeth too? Thank the gods. How are you guys doing?”

You wrinkled your nose as Annabeth urgently brushed her fingers through her hair. “Uh...hi, Luke.” She beamed, face red. “We thought Chiron would, you know...”

“He’s having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything alright? How’s the trip going? And is that your sister? Damn, everyone’s been wondering where you went.”

You smiled sarcastically and sent a little wave. “Hola.”

“And how’s Grover doing?”

Just as he mentioned the boy, Grover decided to make an appearance. “Hey. What’s happening at camp?”

“Chiron had to--what’s the noise all about?” He yelled, covering his ears with his hands, grimacing.

You looked around the group. Nobody moved, but everybody wondered the same thing, you knew. With a huff and an irritated roll of your eyes, you made your way across the stall, on your way to investigate. “Somebody come with me!”

The familiar sound of Grover’s heavy footsteps followed you soon after, appearing at your side, You approached the Lincoln car, a long, big thing blasting extremely loud music, and in the window sat a bald, old guy with a tough face and a cocky grin. When he turned his head to look at you both, he rolled those eyes within an inch of his life. He turned down the music when he saw the two of you.

“Get outta here kids, I ain’t interested in your cookies or whatever ya sellin’.”

“Lucky for you,” you said with a pinching, sweet grin. “We ain’t selling anything. Leave.”

“Listen,” he laughed broadly, slyly. “Get away from my car.”

“Then get away from the car wash, before--”

“Before what?”

Grover sighed. And then bleated.

Why this guy was so terrified of Grover’s bleat, you had no idea, but his wheels were practically burning as he sped out of the car wash and on to the main road.

You turned to Grover, trying to hold it back. But he was doing the same thing. And you broke first, letting out a sudden, loud laugh.

And as you both headed back round the corner to where Percy and Annabeth remained, you both laughed.

Half an hour later you found yourselves in what seemed to be a recently-renovated diner, with squishy, leather seats and clean tables and shiny, mirror-lined ceilings. The air smelled of amazing food and the place was warm. It was extremely busy, filled with chatter from couples and families. The place was bustling.

Finally, a waitress came over. She raised a brow at the four of you, and you prepared your large meal ready on the tip of your tongue. “Well?”

“We want to order dinner.” Said Percy.

“You kids got the money to pay for it?” She asked, in a very judgemental tone. You’d have thought the same thing, though. You’d changed into new leggings and a sweater in the restroom, looking and smelling better, but the other three hadn’t yet, and they looked pretty homeless.

Across from you, Grover’s lower lip wobbled. You dreaded him starting to cry Annabeth just looked fed up.

And then...

You looked up, raising your head to gaze out the windows of the front of the diner. The whole building shook with the arrival of a motor cycle so big you wondered if it was custom made. The guy on the bike was muscular, tall, wearing a red muscle shirt and black jeans, a knife strapped to his thigh, and red sunglasses. His face was hard and stony, but handsome in a brutal way, with a crew cut and black hair, the darkest hair you’d ever seen before.

As he pushed open the door to the diner, ringing the bell above it, and as he did so, everybody stood from their seats.

You raised your eyebrows and sighed. The guy was smug in the face and haughty almost, like he felt he deserved all the attention. He waved his hand and, as if on rewind, everybody sat down and continued their conversations. The waitress serving you sighed again, and asked ‘you guys have money to pay for it?’.

The biker guy turned up at your table with a relaxed but tense sort of vibe, as if he owned the place, full of confidence. “It’s on me.”

He slid onto the seat directly opposite you, shoving Grover and Annabeth further against the wall of the booth. Grover was practically trembling and Annabeth just gulped. He looked up at the waitress—still staring—and snidely asked, “Are you still here?”

She blinked as if in a trance and promptly turned on her heels, marching away from the table and into the kitchen. Then, the guy looked at you, and instantly fire lit your veins.

You frowned, hard. He smirked. “So, you’re Athena’s new one. You got a lot of fire in you, kid. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have said you belonged to my girl.”

“Your girl?” You quipped with a sarcastic drawl. “Who’s that? I don’t belong to anyone you old bastard—”

Percy slapped a hand so hard against your mouth that it stung. Furious suddenly, you whipped your head and glared at him. “Shut. Up.” He hissed quietly.

The biker guy chuckled lowly. “I think you should listen to your friend, if you know what’s best for you. I like the attitude when it isn’t directed toward me. Cut it. Now.”

“Who the hell are—”

“Y/n!” Annabeth interrupted fiercely. She looked ready to murder you. You itched to kick her under the table. “This is Lord Ares. His girlfriend is the Lady Aphrodite. Remember?”

Slowly, your anger simmered down. Realisations kicked in, and you frowned. “Does that mean I’m pretty?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and turned to look out of the window beside her. Percy groaned and Grover whimpered.

The biker dude’s smirk never left his face. “I think there must have been a mix up. You’re a double.” He turned his eyes on Percy. “I heard you broke clarisse’s spear.”

“She was asking for it.”

He held his hands up in nonchalance. “That’s cool. I don’t fight my kids’ battles for them. What I’m here for—I heard you were in town. I’ve got a proposition for you.”

The waitress delivered trays of steaming cheeseburgers and fries, milkshakes and cans of Pepsi. The god handed her a few coins, and as she shook them to look over them in her hands, she frowned deeply, nervously. Looking up, she said, “But these aren’t—”

Ares sighed and dug into his pocket, pulling out a ridiculously large knife that made even you nervous and itching to run away. “Issue, sweetheart?”

The woman swallowed and couldn’t have left quicker.

Percy sighed at your side, a tired and aggravated sigh. “You can’t just scare people into doing what you want,” he fumed.

Ares laughed. “Are you joking? I love this country. These people always do what I want. It’s the most fun I’ve had since Sparta. Don’t any of you carry weapons? You should, you never know who you’re going to run into out there. Anyway—back to my proposition. I need a favour.”

You raised your brow and drawled, “And that is?” Throwing a fry into your mouth.

“I left something of mine during a date. I can’t get there to take it back. I need you puny assholes to do it for me.”

“And why would we do that?” You waved a fry around, overly-confident.

“Because if you don’t I’ll run over you with my Harley and send you to an early grave.” He hissed, leaning forward, jabbing his knife in your direction. Your heart jumped erratically, beating your rib cage as if to say shut up, girl!

Grover practically melted at Ares’s side, quivering. Annabeth had turned utterly pale, and Percy…well, Percy had settled a hand in yours.

“Fine.” He said firmly. “We’ll get whatever you want back. But you gotta help us find this master bolt. The one Zeus is looking for.”

“Seriously,” you nodded along trying to calm your nerves and anger. “The man’s a mess without it. Going lo-co.”

The man raised his shades, placing them in the collar of his jacket, and with a jolt you saw that in place of eyes were simply balls of flaming fire. Fire that flickered from you to Percy.

“The two of you have got a lot of nerve. And let me tell you; it won’t bode well for you in the future.”

You pulled a face blinking up at the sun. Dude, Where’s My Swimsuit?! lit up the otherwise dull sign with bright yellow writing.

After a couple more minutes walking to the abandoned water park which Ares told you he’d left his shield at, you wandered around looking for the love themed ride he’d described. So far, Dude, Where’s My Swimsuit?! wasn’t looking familiar.

You’d wandered so far that the calls from the others sounded miles away. You briefly made out the we’ve found it! from Grover, and the hurry up loser! from Percy.

It turned out to be an empty lot a couple feet deep, dirty and dusty, perfect for roller skating or skateboarding. At the edges of the hole, golden Cupid statues stood with arrows pointed as if ready to fire. And in the middle of the thing, at the very deepest part, was a cart covered in pink and white love hearts, and on the front seat——a shield, dusty and gross.

“That’s disgusting,” you turned up your nose, turning to look around, hands on your hips.

“This is too easy,” said Percy. “So what; we just walk down there and pick it up?”

“There’s a Greek letter carved into one of the statues, here,” Annabeth piped up. “Eta. I wonder if…”

“Grover?” Percy interrupted. Annabeth deadpanned him. You snickered hard. “Smell any monsters or anything?”

The boy sniffed the wind a couple times. The sky was darkening—a pastel navy. He shook his head. “Nope.”

“Nothing like In-The-Arch-With-Echidna-Nothing?”

Grover frowned, hurt. “I already told you. That was underground.”

You nodded. Percy looked at you swiftly. You mouthed, “Low blow.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and turned away. “I’m going down there. Y/n’s coming with me.”

“Oh cool, like a date?” You smiled sickly sweetly, aiming to make it as embarrassing for him as possible.

The corner of his mouth quirked. “You’re gross.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Annabeth gagged.

Together you made your way down the steep side of the pool, toward the white and pink car with love hearts dotted all over it. From inside the pool you were surrounded by mirrors at every angle, watched by Cupid’s and their bows. There was something you hadn’t noticed up at the surface, as you got closer to the cart. You rested a knee on the edge of the seat and leaned over, grabbing the scarf which lay on top of the shield. It wasn’t covered in a light layer of dust the way that the shield was; instead, it was silky and shimmery, a faded rose to baby pink, and your heart dropped in envy. The perfume it smelled of was the perfect amount of musk, rose, and glitter.

At your side, Percy waited quietly. You turned your head and met his eyes, already trained on you. Pink cheeks—his hand found your wrist.

“Guys!” Annabeth yelled. You glowered as you turned. “Ignore the love magic in the scarf!”

“It’s not even that, you idiot! This is the best perfume I’ve ever smelt!”

Annabeth grinned like an idiot, joking round. “Then what’s wrong with lover boy?”

“He’s always weird this way. Think he was dropped as a baby.”

“Hey!”

“Oh, welcome back to the land of the living.” You smiled, right-lipped. “Grab the shield, you imbecile and let’s go.”

Percy dropped his hand from your wrist and reached his hand through the cart instead. Flexing his fingers around the shield, he pulled. A sound akin to an out of tune, loose guitar string sounded. Percy and yourself looked at each other at the same time, eyes wide. You stepped back.

“What the hell did you do?” You demanded, looking him up and down.

“What did I do?! You told me to do it!”

“Oh so it’s my fault that you’re a clumsy bastard—” you flayed your hands, scarf lilting.

“How was I supposed to—”

Noise erupted around the place, like gears finally turning and clicking into place, whirring to life. Grover yelled for you both to hurry, to get out and move. The Cupids’ above were turning—directing their arrows to pull position. They shoe golden wires with sharp whistling sounds across to each end of the pool, trapping you in. Instantly, you took off running, Percy sprinting behind you. Grover was at the other end with Annabeth, trying with all their strength to hold open the netting, to no avail. It snapped back like it was metal, too thick to hold for long. And going up the incline of the pool was harder than going down one.

The Cupids’ heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding us with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: “Live to Olympus in one minute…fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight...”

“Hephaestus!” Annabeth screamed. “I’m so stupid! Eta is ‘H.’ He made this trap to catch his wife with Ares. Now we’re going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools!”

“I miss Yancy!” You exclaimed.

And then scuttling. Something was scuttling from openings in the corner of the pool. Coming down the slope. Hundreds. Silver…little…things.

“SPIDERS!” You shrieked, instantly throwing yourself at Percy, you practically jumped on him, screaming.

He practically shoved you at the cart, and instantly your feet were up on the dashboard. Dirty shoes, marking the white of the car. Hands over your ears to try and block out the spiders. You heard Percy yelling at you to help him as he kicked away spiders, and swiped one off your knee as you screamed so loud your throat burned.

“Twenty-eight…twenty-seven…”

Percy’s voice was barely discernible over your screaming, but Grover must have heard something, because you caught sight of him out the corner of your eye whizzing about in a control booth. You held the scarf tight in both hands, to your chest, as if it would ground you or that the perfume would distract from the metal smell of gross disgusting—

One was on your arm. Percy slapped it so hard something popped, and the spider went flying.

“Five…four…three…”

One hand around Percy’s bicep tightly, you almost had whiplash from what happened next.

“One…zero.”

The whole cart flew as a high torrent of strong-flowing water came out of nowhere. A spider hit your cheek; Percy had one foot jammed under the wheel of the car, one hand on top of it, and the other in front of you.

You opened your eyes, blinded by spotlights. Your body was drenched and soaking, cold and breathless, even more so when the car skimmed the top of the metal wiring, until it suddenly wasn’t.

It shot out through a tunnel, darkened to see nothing.

The car hit corners and flew past pictures of the 90’s Romeo and Juliet movie. The sight of Leonardo DiCaprio would have been appreciated had you not been being hit in the face with water.

Then, the car shot out into daylight, down a ramp—towards the exit. Where gates were bolted shut. Two other cars sat against it, one submerged and the other broken. Your heart was practically flatlining.

“Get ready to jump!” Percy yelled, and you blinked with blurry, water-filled eyes. “On my count!”

He offered you his hand, and you took it swiftly, tightly.

Percy readied to jump, but it didn’t feel right. You shook your head. “No,” you called. “On my count.”

His eyes hard, Percy searched your own. Then nodded.

Three…

Two…

One…

You jumped, both shrieking. It was almost like a springboard. You went over the gates, stomach dropping out of your body, and clutched Percy’s hand tightly as the pool below grow closer and closer and clo——

You hit it with a sharp yelp. Water flooded your nose and mouth, and you frantically kicked to the surface. You threw yourself at the ledge, holding on for dear life, throat scratching and raw, body shooting with pains.

You glanced to your left, and found your best friend making his way towards you. You managed a shivering smile.

“Good,” he nodded. “You’re good.”

“I’m good.” Your teeth chattered with adrenaline. “You good?”

Droplets dripped down his face. “I’m good.”

The cameras were still on you, all the Cupid’s turned your way. As you rested your arms on the ledge and dropped your head on them, Percy yelled.

“Show’s over! Thank you! Goodnight!”

How’d you like that ;)

Taglist:

@bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @hawkeye12 @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @luckydragontriumph @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @bugsys-bubble

#capsize #pjo #percy jackson #leo valdez #trials of apollo #annabeth chase #heroes of olympus #hoo #jason grace #nico di angelo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #tlt #the lightening thief

134 notes · View notes

danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 1 year

Text

This Complicates things...

So, that’s the basic situation at hand.

Akeru, Komaru and Toko’s kid, found out everything we needed in the lab. She also put Yodogawa’s AI out of his misery.

I see...Thanks for the rundown.

I still can’t quite believe this. How could someone do something so...cruel?

Because he’s insane Akamatsu. Plain and simple.

And we will stop him, I swear it.

...

What’s wrong Mii-Yu?

No. It is nothing. I just did not consider that humans find becoming robots painful.

I suppose creatures like me live a different existence that humans cannot take to.

Listen Mii-Yu. This and that are very different.

You may be a robot, but you’ve got all the personality traits, quirks and queues that allow you to be human. If Katagiri was trying to turn people into AI like you, there might not be much of a problem.

But he’s stripping people of all of that. In that case, they become mindless machines. Drones that can only follow commands. That’s not what YOU are.

He’s right Mii-Yu. You really need to quit selling yourself short, you know?

Affirmative.

*The group arrives at the top floor.

Looks like this floor got cleared out before any of us got here.

By the way Akamatsu...By chance are you the one who our guy called to take out security here.

Uh...I mean, he never said to.

He gave me a location, but we were turned away at the door.

So, as you can imagine, instead of being discreet, Kaede decided to go through the backdoor and bust her way through before I could say anything.

Eehehehe...The reception wasn’t friendly so...Treat people how you want to be treated.

Atta girl.

So, what’s the plan here then?

Hey! We got some unexpected guests here! And I got a few questions to ask you.

Huh...!?

*Kuripa calls up to the platform.

I figured. I wondered why it was taking you so long.

Saihara? Akamatsu? Mii-Yu. This is Agent 404. AKA-

RANTAROO!!?

Wha-!?

Huh-!?

Hahaha...Yeah, that’s about the reaction I expected.

You...YOU’RE Agent 404!?

So THIS is where you’ve been hiding this whole time!?

Well...not the WHOLE time...

It’s true that I’ve been with ERR0RM3SS4GE for a long while now though...Forgive me, I had my reasons for not coming out into the light until now.

...

Hol’ up...I’m still trying to process this shit.

Shuichi and Kaede...You KNOW him?

Y-Yeah...

Yeah...

Yeah, stuff happened and um...

The fuck do you mean “stuff happened?” I...

Grr! Fine! Whatever...I’ll ask about it later.

Have you got that upload on the way?

Depends. Did Maya flip the switch like I asked?

Fucking hell dude, I’m not that dumb.

Good. Then can I ask you to help me install this drive while I talk with these guys? We’ll need to upload the data into the drive in order to use it against Katagiri.

...

You’ve got a lot of questions for me I’ll bet.

You have NO idea.

Whatever’s going on right now is clearly more important. And if what Kuripa said about Zen Katagiri is true, then I’ll accept that you’re trying to do something good.

What I want to know is where does your allegiance lie, Rantaro.

My allegiance?

You’re here, helping the Future Foundation, but you already helped our enemies. I’m not sure what side you’re really on.

Would you really treat me as an enemy?

I don’t want to but...If I had to.

...

I can see why they made you Branch Chief. You’re unbiased, even towards your own friends.

But trust me when I say that all I care about is stopping Zetsubou and saving this world. Just like the Future Foundation.

What’s the point of having a world-class hacker organization if there’s no world for it to exist in. Believe me, I had my reasons for aiding Uchui.

...

Fine...I still have my doubts about this but...if Kuripa and the Future Foundation believe in you, then I see no reason not to.

Thank you for your hospitality.

*Rantaro climbs down from the platform and pats Shuichi and Kaede on the shoulders.

And for the record, it’s good to see you...

All...of you...

...

*Rantaro’s eyes suddenly fall on Mii-Yu. Her eyes stare curiously back at him.

You are...

Uh...Oh! Let me introduce you!

*Kaede takes Mii-Yu’s shoulders.

This is M11-YU. I know she might look like Keebo, but she’s not.

Tsumugi was keeping her prisoner in one of Zetsubou’s towers. We freed her and now she’s being looked after by Miu.

Y-Yes. I am Model M11-YU. Please, just call me Mii-Yu though.

This is...Mii-Yu huh?

Well...it’s nice to meet you too.

...Are you ok?

Yeah, you...sound kind of uncomfortable Rantaro. Who flipped the switch on you?

Huh? Oh, no, it’s nothing. It really is nice to meet you, I’ve just...

Got so much on my mind right now.

Yeah...That kind of makes three of us.

...

Kaede? Do you want to say something to him?

...

What’s up Kaede? Is everything ok?

It’s just...I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you again and now that I’m here, I...I don’t really know where to begin.

Now isn’t really the best place to talk, so if you’d like, we can discuss the past later.

Right now, my top priority is dealing with Katagiri, and I’m sorry that I ended up dragging the both of you into it.

You’re right...I’m sorry too about what happened back in the Killing Game...What I did was...unforgivable and if you hate me for it...

Huh? Why would I do that?

...?

Even if you pushed us to the limit on the death road, I accept that you were only trying to act in everyone’s best interests. It’s not like me defecting from the group was the best way to deal with the situation either.

The...death road?

Yeah, the death road. The impossible gauntlet Monokuma ran us through trying to find an exit.

Oh...Yeah, that...Shame on me for that one.

I’m telling you, we’re totally cool on it. You’ve got nothing to feel bad for.

O-Ok.

Hey, Rantaro. Have I done this right?

Let me check!

Sorry, I’ll be right back.

*Rantaro hurries off to help Kuripa.

It appears he has no recollection of Kaede’s shotput ball trap that you mentioned.

Hm...It’s not like he really could have known that Kaede set it off...

Maybe he just blames Tsumugi for what happened, and that’s why he’s with ERR0RM3SS4GE?

...Maybe...

Somehow that just makes me feel even worse. Like I’m keeping some big secret from him...

...I understand how you feel Kaede, but like Rantaro said, he is in the middle of a mission. It’s not like now is an especially good time to bring it up.

Apologize to him later, and explain your side of things. I’m sure he won’t hold it against you.

...Thanks Shuichi.

*Kaede, Shuichi and Mii-Yu rejoin the others.

I didn’t really ask earlier, but what is it you actually plan on doing here Rantaro? Why do you need this drive?

Well, to put simply, Katagiri, our target, is holing himself up in a hidden base at Hyde Park. We need the information from this lab for several reasons.

The first is that if we copy the data from the tech made here, we can trace, and if we scan the park, we can find the point of origin. That will lead us straight to where Katagiri is hiding.

The second is that if we have this info, we can locate the weak point in whatever defense mechanisms he’s got as a backup.

We’re gonna draw him out of his hidey-hole, and when we do...

We rip him a new one...

Exactly. I’ll leave the last step to Kuripa.

...

What do you mean?

Huh? What’s up?

“Rip him a new one” how? Are you...

Are you going to KILL him?

...Something like that.

“Something like that?” Either you ARE or you AREN’T Kuripa.

It’s complicated, ok! It’s...an obligation...And a mercy.

So you ARE planning on killing him once you get to him?

I don’t have a choice this time, ok!? It was as per ERR0RM3SS4GE’s contract!

What...!?

In Kuripa’s defense, the specification WAS that Katagiri would need to die by the end of this mission.

I understand how you both feel. I know this is...difficult for you to accept.

But believe me when I say my organization has a very good reason for this. If Katagiri isn’t executed, he WILL HURT MANY.

Kuripa already told you what he’d done to Yodogawa. To prevent a catastrophe like that, don’t you think it’s worth it?

Kuripa, listen. I don’t know how or why the Future Foundation are following through with this, but it so blatantly breaks the code.

I AM still a Branch Chief, so it’s my duty and obligation to the Foundation to prevent you as a Foundation employee, to stop BREAKING that code.

...That damn “code” again...

I’m not gonna lie to you. I can understand how things are from your perspective, and why you’ve done what you’ve done before this point. In any other given situation, I wouldn’t try to get in your way.

But I have responsibilities now, and if I just overlook this, I won’t be able to live with myself.

...

You’re a good kid Saihara. And mature with how you think about it that way. I’m proud of you.

But...you can rest easy...I’m no longer tied down by the Future Foundation’s code and “obligations” and all the other BS that comes with it...!

Wh-What do you mean...? What...did you do?

...I’ll be blunt.

I’m no longer with the Future Foundation. The Chairwoman personally gave me the boot.

!!!??

N-No...! That can’t be!

See!? THIS is why I was trying to avoid you! There’s a whole ass conspiracy going on here and neither of you have any business getting caught up in it!

I know I’m a fucked up guy, but I’ve only ever LOVED you kids! This is MY problem, and you two have no right to be caught up in this drama!

But I’m telling you this...Don’t get in our way...Because I promise you, you won’t stop what’s coming...

You guys are smart...Hopefully you’re smarter than the others...Surely you can understand what I’m doing here. I’m trying to save your friends. OUR friends.

Kuripa...I get why you think of it this way, but this isn’t right.

...Why not?

I’m happy you’re trying to save Maki, Himiko, and the others, but by taking the lives of other people...Is the sacrifice really WORTH it?

Come on Kuripa...Rantaro...Have a heart...!

No, no, noooo you just don’t understaaaaand...! There’s more at stake here if we don’t put a stop to this evil permanently.

If we don’t kill Katagiri, he might use his own program to make himself immortal, then we’ll have missed our chance to stick a nail in his brain and nip the problem in the bud...!

Not only that, but this is the one chance we’ve had in AGES to finally put a stop to Zetsubou and save our captured allies. Seiko Kimura has been rotting in Zetsubou’s hidden base for almost a year now...Remember?

But-!

Kaede...You don’t want me to make a sacrifice, even if it means we can save many people from Katagiri and Zetsubou...

But doing the reverse means we sacrifice many innocent lives...just to save one guilty one.

In the grand calculus of fate, and the story that I’m paving the way for, this sacrifice means infinitely more than the life of one senile psychopath...

*Kuripa shoots a look at Rantaro.

I’m sorry kid...But I’m just doing my job.

...!

...Fine...Do what you’ve got to do...I know I can’t stop you.

Thank you for understanding. I’m sorry I’ve burdened you with this...

And with that...the upload should be-

HAAGH!

*WHAM!*

GUUGH!

!!!???

*Against everyone’s expectation, Kaede suddenly shoves Rantaro aside and snatches the drive! She grabs Shuichi’s hand makes a break for it!

What are you DOING!?

I’M SORRY ABOUT THIS!

!!!?

*Kaede drags Shuichi out of the room, still holding onto the drive. Mii-Yu hesitates, but then chooses to follow.

I apologize! But I promised BeeZero I would look after Kaede!

*She presses a button on the iron door and closes it behind

...No....No, no, no NO, NOOO!

*Kuripa grabs his sword, takes a run up, and with a kick, breaks the steel door wide open!

AAKAAAMAAATSSUUUUUU!!!

Tch...! Dammit! Maya, do NOT stop that upload!

B-But without the drive-!

We’ll get the drive back!

*Rantaro grabs a pistol from his belt and cocks it.

By FORCE if we must!

//KURIPA KURAFTO AND RANTARO AMAMI VS KAEDE AKAMATSU, SHUICHI SAIHARA AND M11-YU!!//

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #drv3 #danganronpa v3 #hyper danganronpa h20 #hdrh2o #oc #danganronpa new world order #drnwo #kaede akamatsu #shuichi saihara #rantaro amami #kuripa kurafto #m11-yu #miiyu #maya canzanilla #the monster in me arc

8 notes · View notes

kirwell · 7 months

Text

my advice to the writers out there

I'm writing this instead of my book right now,, cause intrusive thoughts

I’m someone who likes to look around for writing advice to get new perspectives and helpful tips and ideas from other writers. But sometimes I’d hunt around for validation from videos to see if I was “doing things right” with my own book, and I can’t tell ya how damaging that’s been for me in the past on my writing journey.

While taking advice and constructive criticism is good and progressive and can help you see things from another perspective to better your writing, I also can’t stress enough to take things with a grain of salt when it comes to other people's opinions on genres and tropes.

Has someone else written something like my story before? Probably yeah.

Are there tropes in my story that have already been in other books/other media? Oh yeah, I don't doubt it.

Are some people tired of seeing certain themes and settings in stories? Sure. Everyone is into different things.

Does that mean my story shouldn’t be written at all, and I should just write something else instead? Hell fuckin no, yo !

I love my story because I’m telling it the way I WANT in my own style, my own characters, and with my own messages that I want to tell. Putting your heart and soul into your writing is a real thing ya’ll, and that will stand out.

I love high fantasy stories with medieval themes, magic, fantastical worldbuilding, great adventures, and grand quests with a party of characters I can love and relate to. I love wizards, elves, fairies, demons, and all the things you imagine when you hear “classic fantasy.” That genre has always inspired me and brought out the most creative side of me.

So when some people say, “Don’t write that,” or “Don’t write this,” because it’s been touched upon before and nobody wants to read that anymore, it would bum the hell outta me.

So should I NOT write my own story and share it because a part of it fits into a familiar trope within the genre? Does that mean my story shouldn’t ever be read and that it’s inherently not good?

If you have a story to tell, and you wanna tell it, then write it! It’s your book, it’s your story, it’s your characters, and you’re allowed to enjoy what you’ve created.

Take constructive criticism, be flexible, and be open to learning and changing, like you would with any other skill. I wouldn’t be where I’m at in my writing capability today if I had never listened to advice and practiced over and over again.

But don’t let anyone take away your creativity!

Changing the whole theme of your story because it may not appeal to some readers or publishers is the most ridiculous, damaging thing I’ve heard. There will always be people who won’t wanna read what you’ve written, or publishers who aren't interested, and that’s okay. That’s to be expected with anything creative. But if you like something, write it, and don’t let others say you shouldn’t. It’s damn near impossible to be 100% original in every aspect of your story and avoid every single used trope, if that’s even possible to do anymore these days. Trying to be perfect will drive you insane.

Personally, the more you try to “change this” and “change that” in order to check off your originality boxes, the less happy you’ll be with your work. That's been my experience, at least. I went through a lotta versions of my book to fit what writers in their videos were telling me it should be in order to be accepted and appreciated, and I wasn’t happy with any of it and felt really stuck.

Try and find the right kinds of videos and communities that’ll inspire you, encourage you, and help ya in places where you’re falling short. Some channels can really suck out all of your creativity and make you second-guess everything you’ve created, wondering if your story will ever be good enough.

A setting where a character or a group has to go on an adventure to fulfill a certain goal is something I really like, and to be told that specific trope is dull and overdone was discouraging on a whole other level. Why should I write this if nobody even wants to read it?

I’ve had to stop watching channels in the past because this idea was preached so much and I believed it, and it was depressing reading comments who felt the same as me.

“I gotta rewrite my whole story now.” “Oh no, my story is like this!” “Guess I shouldn’t write about that in my story.”

Please don’t give up on your stories because of personal opinions on a genre or a trope! We all have opinions, likes, dislikes, and prefer different things. Nothing is set in stone.

For me, a story is about the journey and what the characters go through and how they make me feel. If you wanna write a vampire love story with witches and werewolves and a love triangle, go for it! If you wanna write a story about a school for magical creatures in a fantasy world, go for it!

Make a story YOURS and don’t be afraid to tell it! Someone out there will love what you’ve made and it’ll inspire them just like you were inspired. Write for YOU and for all those people who love what you love and will wanna read the fuck outta your book!

,,I hope this was actually useful advice for someone out there. Cause this is something I wish someone would have told me years ago. Now go write and have fun with it !

#I hope this helps somebody out there #writer advice I wish someone gave me years ago #is any of this coherent?#I feel like im giving salty vibes here- but I don't mean to #just wanna encourage people to write what they love #and not get to swept away by others opinions #ya feel?#writer rant #writer problems #writing advice #writeblr #creative writing #fiction writing

0 notes

kdipshit · 1 year

Text

Jesus motherfucking Christ ;

I would say I’m dependant on marijuana as my emotional regulation medication, so being off it, even for a day, I have seen that it drives me absolutely insane. Am I trying to ignore that feeling? I mean I fucking guess, the feeling when I’m off weed, is so unbearable, I must be choosing to run from the feeling. I have to be, other wise why else does that same sickening, disturbing anxious feeling come up. I’m finding it hard to sit with myself during these times, I’m usually crying, which is good, but my entire body shakes, my teeth chatter, emotional feelings become more real than physical touch, my emotional feelings are stronger than my senses.

Im not sure how long its going to take myself to pull it on up sober. I feel lost, but I know where to go. For the greatest time, I know where to go. Its a troublesome journey, like wizard of oz, I just gotta feel what I feel. I have so much faith that I will be alright. I’ve been writing with the door open, if you know what I mean, raw words, raw thoughts.

My drug and alcohol councillor is so happy that I’ve started a blog, I don’t know why I need this to be out there. I guess my energy is needed whenever I am, so I find myself always on the right path. Even during the sad moments.

I’ve put aside an hour to just write, my body is telling me I need to chill, for some reason my legs have been hurting for the past 2 days making it a massive effort just to walk, it has to be a sign, so I’ve been taking a rest and kind of laying down not really feeling productive, even tho I do everything I need to do throughout the day, I still feel like I’m stuck sometimes. I kind of have to trust that I will be okay, which I have recently learned so I’m not trippin. I just get scared about bad feelings or bad energies never going away. Again it’s pointing me to the fact that it’s my attachment to the feeling that isint letting me let it go. Just let go. Fuck I wish it was that easy. I’m sure it is lmao, but I might have a few blockages in my way still. I’m not afraid I’m just a little tired and need a break.

I can see my dark shadow lingering, behind the smoky mirror, behind the doors, behind my eyes.

Sometimes I feel like im an alien and none of this works for me. Am I really human? I dunno man. I guess not, it’s just a label right? I just am. Forget about language for a minute, forget about labels, attachments, thoughts and feelings, everything is still here without it all. That’s where I am. Accepting reality for what it is can get tricky when you experience psychosis. Never the less, it’s still there, it’s always there, the present, the now, it’s all that’s there.

Some days I’m just meant to be doing nothing but healing myself, with my same thing that wrecked me. Isint it ironic, of course if your brain can make u suicilly it can do the opposite. Just have to teach yourself.

Boredom is such a strong emotion, it’s stronger than most anyways, I can’t really be in my body when I’m bored, I don’t like the feeling, maybe boredom is a trigger lol. I guess I don’t like it bc I think I don’t, lol.

#blogging #new blog #mental health #actually bipolar #actually borderline #mental instability #actually bpd #original post #original writing

1 note · View note

chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Ted Lasso 2x11 thoughts

For an episode that ends with a journalist Ted trusts but has (understandably) recently lied to warning Ted that he’s publishing an article about his panic attacks, it was fitting that this episode seemed entirely about what all of these characters choose to tell each other. And after most of a season of television that Jason Sudeikis has described as the season in which the characters go into their little caves to deal with things on their own, it turns out they are finally able to tell each other quite a lot.

Which is good because, um, wow, a lot is going to happen in the season finale of this show!

Thoughts on the things people tell each other behind the cut!

Roy and Keeley. I absolutely loved the moment during their photoshoot in which they bring up a lot of complicated emotional things and are clearly gutted (“gutted”? Who am I? A GBBO contestant who forgot to turn the oven on?) by what they’ve heard. We already know that Keeley and Roy are great at the kinds of moments they have before the shoot begins, in which Roy builds Keeley up and tells her she’s fucking amazing. From nearly the beginning of their relationship, they’ve supported each other and been each other’s biggest fans. But their relationship has gone on long enough that they’ve progressed from tentative arguments about space and individual needs into really needing to figure out what they mean to each other and how big their feelings are and what that means in relation to everything else. Watching these two confess about the uncomfortable kiss with Nate, the unexpectedly long conversation with Phoebe’s teacher, and—most painfully—the revelation that Jamie still loves Keeley didn’t feel like watching two people who are about to break up. (Although I could see them potentially needing space from each other to get clarity.) It felt like watching two people realize just how much they’d lose if they lost each other, which is an understandably scary feeling even—or especially—when you’re deeply in love but not entirely sure what the future holds. Not entirely sure what you’re capable of when you’ve never felt serious about someone in quite this way, and are realizing you have to take intentional actions to choose that relationship every single day. I’m excited to learn whether Roy and Keeley decide they need to solidify their relationship more (not necessarily an engagement, but maybe moving in together or making sure they’re both comfortable referring to the other as partner and telling people they’re in a committed relationship) or if things go in a different direction for a while.

Sharon and Ted. I’ve had this feeling of “Wow, Ted is going to feel so intense about how honest he’s been with Sharon and is going to end up getting really attached and transfer a lot of emotions onto the connection they have and that is stressful no matter how beneficial it has been for him to finally get therapy!” for a while now. And Sharon’s departure really brought that out and it was indeed stressful. But the amount of growth that’s happened for both of these characters is really stunningly and beautifully conveyed in this episode. Ted is genuinely angry she left without saying goodbye, and he doesn’t bury it some place deep inside him where it will fester for the next thirty years. He expresses his anger. (I also noticed he sweared—mildly—in front of her again, which is really a big tell for how much he has let his carefully-constructed persona relax around her.) He reads her letter even though he said he wasn’t going to, and he’s moved. I don’t think Ted has the words for his connection to Sharon beyond “we had a breakthrough,” but Sharon gets it, and is able to firmly assert a professional boundary by articulating her side of that breakthrough as an experience that has made her a better therapist. And is still able to offer Ted a different kind of closure by suggesting they go out before her train leaves. No matter how you feel about a patient/football manager seeing their therapist/team psychologist colleague socially, I appreciated this story because IMO it didn’t cross big lines but instead was about one final moment in this arc in which both Ted and Sharon saw each other clearly and modeled what it is to give someone what they need and to expect honesty and communication from them. I liked that Ted ends up being the one saying goodbye. (The mustache in the exclamation points!) I like that whether or not Sharon returns in any capacity (Sarah Niles is so wonderful that I hope she does, but I’m not sure), the goodbye these characters forge for themselves here is neither abandonment nor a new, more complicated invitation. It’s the end of a meaningful era, and although the work of healing is the work of a lifetime, it’s very beautiful to have this milestone.

Ted and Rebecca. So, maybe it’s just me, but it kinda feels like these two have a few li’l life things to catch up on?! (HAHHHHHaSdafgsdasdf!) I really adored their interactions in this episode. I maintain that Biscuits With The Boss has been happening this whole time (even when Ted’s apartment was in shambles, there’s biscuit evidence, and I feel like we’ve been seeing the biscuit boxes in Rebecca’s office pretty regularly too), even if it might have been more of a drive-by biscuit drop-off/feelings avoidance ritual. It was really lovely to see Ted on more even footing in Rebecca’s office, joking around until she tells him to shut up, just like the old days. And GOSH—for their 1x9 interaction in Ted’s office to be paralleled in this episode and for Ted to explicitly make note of the parallel in a way Rebecca hears and sees and understands?! MY HEART. In both of Rebecca’s confessions, she is not bringing good news but it is good and meaningful that she chooses to share with Ted. In both situations, Ted takes the moment in stride and offers acceptance equivalent to the gravity of what she has to confess. And in both situations, he’s not some kind of otherworldly saint, able to accept Rebecca no matter what because he’s unaffected by what she shares. He is affected. When he tells her about Sam, you can see a variety of emotions on his face. Rebecca is upset and Ted is calm, and even if I might have liked for him to try to talk about the risk the affair poses to the power dynamics on the team or any number of factors, I also really liked that he just accepts where she is, and—most importantly—does not offer her advice beyond examining herself and taking her own advice. A massive part of being in a relationship with another person (a close relationship of any nature) is figuring out how to support that person without necessarily having to be happy about every single thing they do. It’s so important that Ted connects what she’s just told him about Sam back to what she told him last season about her plot with the club. These both feel like truth bombs to him, and he is at least safe enough to make that clear. These are both things that impact him, things that shape how he sees her and maybe even how he sees himself. He cares about her and is capable of taking in this information; he has room for it. But it’s not something he takes lightly, and neither does she. See you next year.

Tumblr user chainofclovers and the TV show Ted Lasso. My brain is going wild thinking about all the ways the next “truth bomb” conversation could go in 3x11 or whatever. Maybe they go full consistent parallel and Rebecca confesses something else, this time about her and Ted or some other big future thing that impacts him as much or more as the other confessions have. (The same but different.) Maybe the tables turn and Ted has something to confess to her. While the 1x9 conversation ended in an embrace and the 2x11 conversation ended with a bit more physical distance (understandable given the current state of their relationship and the nature of the discussion), the verbal ending of both conversations involved voices moving into a sexier lower register while zooming in to talk specifically about their connection to each other, so I have to assume there will be some consistencies in s3 even if the circumstances will be completely different. I don’t really know where I’m going with this and I obviously will go insane if I sustain this level of anticipatory energy until Fall 2022 but I have a feeling my brain and heart are going to try!

Sam and Rebecca. I know there’s been a lot of criticism about whether this show is being at all realistic about the power dynamics and inevitable professional issues this relationship would create. On some level, I agree; I like that pretty much everyone who knows about the affair has been kind so far, but you can be kind and still ask someone to contend with reality. But I also think that in nearly every plot point on this show, the narrative is driven by how people feel about their circumstances first and foremost. (It’s why the whiteboard in the coaching office and the football commentators tell us more about how the actual football season is going from a points perspective than anyone else.) This episode reminded me how few people know about Sam and Rebecca, and how much their time together so far has been time spent in bed. The private sphere. I thought this episode really expertly brought the public sphere into it, not—thank goodness—through a humiliating exposure or harsh judgment but through an opportunity for Sam that illustrates not only all his potential to do great things but how much Rebecca’s professional position and personal feelings are in conflict with that. Could stand in the way of that. I don’t have a strong gut feeling about where this will go, but I do think Sam’s face in his final scene of this episode is telling. He started the episode wanting to see Rebecca (his most recent text to her was about wanting to connect), and Edwin’s arrival from Ghana really exploded his sense of what is possible for his life. If he’d arrived home to Rebecca sitting on his stoop prior to meeting Edwin, he’d have been delighted. Now he’s conflicted, and whatever decision he makes, he has to reckon with the reality that he cannot have everything he wants. No matter what. And Rebecca—she has taken Ted’s advice and is attempting to be honest about the fact that she can’t control Sam’s decisions but hopes he doesn’t go, and even saying that much feels so inappropriate. And I’m not sure how much she realizes about the inappropriateness of the position she’s putting him in, although maybe she’s getting there considering she exits the scene very quickly. I’ve honestly loved Rebecca’s arc this season. I think it’s realistic that she got obsessed with the intimacy she thought she could find in her phone. I think it’s realistic that her professional and personal ambitions are inappropriately linked. (They certainly were for Rupert. It’s been years since she’s known anything different; even if she’s done some significant recovery work to move on from her abusive marriage and figure out her own priorities, she’s got a long way to go.) I know there are people who will read this interaction between Rebecca and Sam as a totally un-self-aware thing on the part of “the show” or “the writers” but what I saw is two people who enjoyed being in bed together and now have to deal with the reality that they’re in two different places in their lives and that one has great professional power over the other. If that wasn’t in the show, I wouldn’t be able to see it or feel so strongly about it.

Edwin and Sam. I really enjoyed all the complexities of this interaction. Edwin is promising a future for Sam that doesn’t quite exist yet, though he has the financial means to make it happen. He offers this by constructing for Sam a Nigerian—and Ghanaian—experience unlike anything he’s found in London. Sam is amazed that this experience is here, and Edwin’s response is to explain to him that the experience is not here. Not really. The experience in Africa. Sam has of course connected to the other Nigerian players on the team, but this is something else entirely. I’m really curious if Sam is going to end up feeling that what Edwin has to offer is real or not. That sense of home and connection? So real. And so right that he would want to experience that homecoming and would want to be part of building that experience for others. But at the end of the day, he went to a museum full of actors and a pop-up restaurant full of “friends,” and is that constructed authenticity as a stand-in for a real homecoming more or less real than the home he’s building in Richmond? (With other players who stand in solidarity with him, and with well-meaning white coaches who say dumb stuff sometimes, and an a probably-doomed love interest, and a feeling that he should put chicken instead of goat in the jollof, and the ability to stand out as an incredible player on a rising team.)

Nate and everyone. But also Nate and no one. Nate’s story is so painful and I’m so anxious for next week’s episode. For a long time I’ve felt that a lot of Nate’s loyalties are with Richmond, and a lot of his ambitions are around having given so much to this place without getting a lot back, and having a strong feeling that he’s the answer to Richmond’s future. But now I’m not so sure; his ambitions have transferred into asking everyone he knows (except Ted, of course), if they want to be “the boss.” But Nate is all tactics and no communication. When he wants to suggest a new play to Ted, he hasn’t yet learned to read Ted’s language to learn that Ted is eager to hear what he has to say. And while Ted has been really unfortunately distracted about Nate and dismissive of him this season, he clearly respects Nate’s approach to football and was appreciative of the play. Nate just can’t hear that. The suit is such a great metaphor of all the things Nate is in too much pain to be able to hear clearly. Everyone digs at him for wearing the suit Ted bought him (including Will, who’s got to get little cuts in where he can, because he’s got to be sick of the way Nate treats him), but when he gets fed up his solution isn’t to go out on his own and find more clothes he likes; he asks Keeley to help him. And then crosses a major line with her...and no matter how kind she was about it, she was clearly not okay. Everything is going to blow up, and I’m so curious as to whether Nate will end up aligning himself with Rupert in some way or if he’s going to end up screwed over by Rupert and in turn try to screw over his colleagues even worse than he’s already done. Or try desperately to make amends even though it could be too late for some. Either way, I’m fully prepared to feel devastated. (And there’s no way I’m giving up on this character. If he’s able to learn, I truly believe he could end up seeking forgiveness and forging a happier existence for himself. Someday. Like in season 3 or something.)

Ted and Trent. Trent deciding to reveal his source to Ted is a huge deal, and I’m torn between so many emotions about this exposé. I’m glad it’s a Trent Crimm piece and not an Ernie Loundes piece. I’m glad that Trent made the decision to warn Ted and let him know that Nate is his source. I fear—but also hope—that this exposure will set off a chain reaction of Ted learning about some of the things he’s missed while suffering through a really bad bout with his dad-grief and panic disorder. The things Ted doesn’t know would devastate him. I wonder if Ted will want to figure out a way to make Nate feel heard and reconcile with him, and I wonder how that will be complicated if/when he realizes Nate has severely bullied Will, gets more details on how he mistreated Colin, etc. I wonder if Rebecca, whom Nate called a “shrew” right before she announced his promotion, will be in the position of having to ask Ted to fire him, or overriding Ted and doing it herself. So many questions! I have a feeling it’ll go in some wild yet very human-scaled, emotionally-nuanced direction, and I’ll be like “Oh my GOD!” but also like “Oh, of course.”

This VERY SERIOUS AND EMOTIONAL REVIEW has a major flaw, which is that none of the above conversations include mention of the absolute love letter to N*SYNC. Ted passionately explains how things should go while dancing ridiculously! Will turns on the music and starts gyrating! Roy nods supportively! Beard shouts the choreography like the Broadway choreographer of teaching grown men who play football how to dance like a boy band. Everyone is so incredibly proud when they nail it. I love them.

I cannot believe next week is the end. For now. I’m kind of looking forward to letting everything settle during the hiatus, but I’ve really loved the ride.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #ted lasso 2x11 #meta by me #ALL THE FEELINGS!!!!#a lesbian watches ted lasso

134 notes · View notes

sweeterthansammy · 3 years

Text

Better Than Sex? || Trevor Belmont

Trevor Belmont x Female Pirate!Reader; Reader plays the role of Trevor’s wife.

Summary: When Trevor claims that ale is better than sex, Y/N gives him the worst case of blue balls.

Genre: Smut

Written in third person point of view.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, fingering, fisting (?), vaginal penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial, hair pulling, biting, choking, mild language, sexual innuendos (throughout the imagine), mentions of drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of pregnancy, & Trevor being the horny little shit he is lmao

A/N: So, I posted this on my first piece on AO3 and let me just tell you...I FUCKING HATE IT. Anywho, enjoy this while I go to sleep :)

Word count: 3.5k

She twisted her neck as she sat down, groaning audibly at the stiffness in her neck.

“Rough day, m’lady?” the clerk asked, filling a tankard with the cold ale before slipping it in front of her.

“You bet your arse it was a tough day,” she replied, taking a swig of the ale as she gripped onto the stein. “I’ve got my husband groaning about the number of night creatures he’s killed in one night, my crew complaining about me leaving. I just needed a nice cold-”

“Stein of ale.”

The voice was familiar enough.

“How the fuck did you find me?” she asked, annoyance bountiful in her tone.

She loved Trevor to bits but having him up her behind all day was becoming a whole task.

“It isn’t very hard when you’re practically married to yourself,” he snarkily chuckled, tilting his head back as the yellow liquid streamed down his throat. “Oh my god, that is better than sex.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest before kicking his stool. Never underestimate the leg of a pirate - that was rule number one in Trevor’s book to marrying a pirate. His malt came spewing out of the mug, landing all over the lower half of his face and the collar of his shirt as he landed flat on his bottom.

“Glad it’s better than sex, Trevor,” she hummed, taking one last sip of her ale before slinging her coat over her shoulders, swiftly making her way out of the pub.

“That’s why I never got married,” the clerk retorted, drying a stein before placing it rim-down on the counter.

“Better than sex, he says,” she grumbled as she lathered lotion onto the spans of her legs after stepping out of the shower. “Can’t fucking believe he’d embarrass me like that!”

She trudged out of the bathroom, slamming their bedroom door shut behind her before dropping her towel, stepping into a silky nightgown before getting under the covers. She cried aloud as she heard his groans downstairs, just now coming home from the bar. She placed the covers over her head, trying to drown out the sound of him stumbling up the steps but it was near to impossible. He barged into the room, reeking of nothing but ale and other assortments of alcohol.

“Trevor, go take a shower-”

She was cut off by his hands taking a hold of the underside of her knees, pulling her to the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice stern as he caressed her thighs.

“Can we?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side as she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t want me to kick you in the balls, do you?”

“No.”

“Then I highly suggest that you let go of my legs before I do.”

He dropped her legs with a whine, falling forward so his forehead rested against her chest. She carded her fingers through his hair, a residue of his sweat on her fingers as he pulled away from her, leaning on his hands as he towered over her.

“Go shower and maybe I’ll let you bury ya little cock inside of me,” she chuckled, softly kissing his lips before pushing him away.

He stood, rubbing his eyes like a child as he left the room.

“It’s not little!”

“Hurry up! I’m not wearing any underwear,” she teased, a fit of laughter consuming her as she heard the shower turn on in an instant.

By the time he’d drunkenly lathered soap all over his body, he was near to asleep. Y/N had been fast asleep, the shower running for twenty minutes straight. He blundered into the room, briefly waking Y/N before she scolded him “to turn the light off and go to sleep.”

“But you said-”

“Trevor, just get in bed,” she said, her voice fading into a whisper before soft snores left her mouth.

He dove under the covers, a heavy arm throwing itself over Y/N’s waist as his hand reached up to rest itself atop one of her breasts.

“Horny even in your sleep,” she muttered, turning onto her other side to face him before throwing a leg over his waist, her arm splaying itself across his back.

A week or two had passed and Y/N was quite proud of herself. She hadn’t fallen for Trevor’s weak attempts to get in her underwear. She wasn’t letting her hard demeanor fall no matter what he proposed.

Though she wasn’t giving in to him, she was doing a whole lot of teasing - biting and sucking his sweet spots in the midst of a makeout, wrapping her legs around his waist and running her nails over his clothed black, and most of all, stripping down to just her underwear before heading to the bathroom to shower.

Tonight they were taking a trip to Alucard’s castle, visiting him after many long-awaited months. Y/N was far more excited to rejoice with their friends than anything, hurrying to get on the carriage while Trevor struggled with her bags.

“Oh, right,” she muttered, hopping off of the carriage before taking her bags from Trevor, throwing them in the back.

“Thank you,” he snarled, a sigh following.

The ride was everything Y/N could have imagined. Though it became cold at night, Y/N greatly adored the trees adorned by emerald leaves and birds chirping throughout the forest. Night creatures were the least of her worries, she and Trevor taking them down in less than ten minutes.

On the contrary, the ride was dreadful for Trevor. He and Y/N spent many hours with their lips locked, her ending up on his lap somehow, but it was her motive to stick to her plan, hopping off of him as he went to undo the buttons of her shirt. At this point, he was tired of it but he hadn’t exactly done anything to prove so.

“Please?! I won’t be long, I promise,” he’d beg.

“It’s quite a bumpy ride, it’s going to become uncomfortable very quick.”

“Then we can pull over!”

“Night creatures. And villagers. It’d be embarrassing if we were to get caught by anyone or anything. Besides, I’d lose my drive after having to sever off the head of a human-sized wolf.”

Trevor indignantly accepted his fate, remaining silent for the majority of the rest of the trip.

“Alucard!”

She was quick to jump off of the carriage, stretching a bit before running to greet her pale best friend.

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he chuckled, his hands lingering on the small of her back as he peered at her. “Y’know, I’d expect you to be knocked up after not seeing you for so long.”

She chuckled, glancing around to find him popping a cigar between his lips.

“I’ve given him possibly the bluest balls ever since we’ve been together.”

“You are a terrible woman,” he grinned, slipping past her as he went to greet Trevor.

Settling down in the castle that night was far beyond elating, Sypha arriving quite late but still making it in time for dinner.

“You know,” Y/N started, taking a sip of wine after swallowing the bit of roasted potato in her mouth. “I was seriously stunned by how attractive you were when you first floated out of your coffin and I was tempted to drop to my knees right there and then only to be turned down after telling me that you didn’t go that way.”

As Sypha and Alucard laughed away, Trevor glared at her, his jaw clenching at the unnecessary insight of information.

“And I was greatly upset when Trevor made his move on you. I was waiting to pounce on him but then I realized how hot you two looked together,” Sypha giggled, bringing her attention to Trevor’s reddened face. “Of course, I don’t feel that way about you know. I’m more so jealous of the fact that you’re married to her. I’m not sure if it’s the insane amount of sex you guys have been having but she looks gorgeous. She’s always been beautiful but the pregnancy glow that is to come,” she paused, kissing her fingertips. “Chef’s kiss.”

“Why does everyone think that I’m pregnant or I’m going to be pregnant?” she asked, a fit of laughter following as she took a sip of wine from the glass in front of her. “I wouldn’t be drinking this much if I were.”

“Well, you’re postponing it,” Trevor mumbled, earning a guffaw from the other pair as he’d muttered loud enough not only for Y/N to hear but for anyone within five feet to hear.

“Piece of shit,” she muttered, quiet enough for no one to hear.

Drinks flowed like water, the group intoxicating themselves as each hour passed.

“Come dance with me,” Alucard encouraged, standing in the center of the living area as he put his record player on.

“Had you figured out how to not step on someone’s feet while dancing or do I have to smack you upside the head like I did the first time?” Y/N asked, fixing the button of her blouse ere to taking Alucard’s hand.

“You’ll just have to find out,” he winked, pulling her body flush against his while his other hand slithered around to meet her waist.

Y/N watched as Sypha dragged Trevor to dance with her, her eyes getting caught with the cerulean ones she was infatuated with. She grinned at him, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as she shot him a wink. Alucard spun her around, their feet moving in a series of patterns with one hand onto his shoulder and the other in his palm.

“And switch,” he called to Sypha, the two boys switching their partners.

“And we meet again, Belmont,” she sultrily spoke, one arm draping over his shoulder while the hand of the other took ahold of his stubbled-chin.

Her chest was pressed against his, her breasts nearing his collarbones as his arm that remained tight around her waist found a way to hoist her body.

“You’re such a little fuckin’ tease, you know that?” he grumbled, his teeth nipping at the skin of her neck.

“What? Am I gonna get punished for it?” she mocked a pout, her cleavage on full display as the buttons of her shirt slowly came undone.

He responded with a growl, his fingertips digging into the plump flesh of her ass. Their legs were an entangled mess; her knee pressed right up to his crotch and his thigh firm against her clothed sex.

“Might as well just fuck me in front of them,” she muttered as he spun her around, her back against his front with one of his hands fixed on her breast.

“Trust me, I’ve considered it.”

Adrian and Sypha looked up for a moment, feeling the thick, tense rope between the couple. They simply looked at each other, stifling their laughter as he spun her around yet again, this time switching her off to Adrian while Sypha was reeled back into his arms.

“That was quite intense,” Alucard retorted.

He slammed her back against the door, knocking the wind out of her lungs as his lips attacked hers. Their lower regions ground against one another, his hands holding onto her knees while his upper half held her up.

He pulled away for a moment, groaning at the sight of her swollen lips, a combination of their saliva coating the flesh. He bit the skin of her neck, rolling it between his front teeth before letting go, sucking on the skin to alleviate the tingling sensation.

“Strip for me - don’t take off your underwear,” he ordered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, panting.

She did as told without a fuss, shimmying out of her skirt and her blouse. He took one look at the white garter around her thigh, letting a scoff-like chuckle fall from his lips. Quite amusing she was. He watched as she stood there, nothing but white lace adorning her body.

“I told you to strip,” he said blatantly.

“But I want you to take it off,” she whined, folding her arms over her chest as she frowned like a toddler.

If he weren’t so desperate to have her around his cock, he would have no problem spanking her until she began to cry. However, he didn’t give up his rough demeanor. He held onto her waist, her chest right up to his.

“Fine, since you want to be such a little fucking brat.”

His arms reached around, fingers effortlessly undoing the hook of her bra before coming back to her front. One leg of his came up, his heel planting itself into the mattress of the bed before he spun her around, one of her arms throwing itself over his leg while the other held onto the one that trailed down her stomach, making its way into her underwear.

“Why can’t you just be a good fucking girl?” he quietly grumbled, his lips hiding into the nape of her neck as his fingers played with her clit. “You’re really fucking wet for someone who has so much mouth.”

His pinky and his thumb resting on the insides of her thighs, serving as a mini obstacle to halt her thighs from caving around his hand while his middle and index fingers fucked her furiously. She moaned aloud, her head rolling onto his shoulder.

He continued at a vigorous pace, profanities tumbling from her lips as he curled his fingers inside of her, reaching for her sweet spot. Her legs quivered as he continued doing this, the tips of her fingers digging into his clothed shoulders.

“Trevor, please,” she murmured, her voice light and airy as ecstasy took over her.

“Please what, darling?” he asked, his voice gruff as his mouth neared her ear.

“Please let me cum.”

The chuckle that came from his lips elicited a groan from her throat.

“We barely even started and you need to cum already?” he tsked, pulling his hand out of her underwear and swiping his fingers over her bottom lips, requesting access as her saliva coated his digits.

“Mm, I should torment you for needing to cum in less than five minutes when I’m sucking your cock, shouldn’t I?”

She’d earned it. But he hadn’t decided whether or not he wanted to edge her until she broke or overstimulate her until her cunt was quite literally palpitating. He pulled his fingers out of her mouth, a dark chuckle leaving his mouth as he pushed her onto the bed.

As she attempted to get onto all of her fours, he held onto her neck from behind, pushing her upper body down so her ass was in the air. He pulled her underwear down, earning a string of moans as he blew air onto her soaked pussy.

“You love tempting me, don’t you?” he queried, his fingers entering her one by one with each pump he gave, his thumb stimulating her clit.

His knuckles were deep inside of her, her moans lewd as they curled and twisted.

“Fuck,” she whispered, the side of her face planted deep into the sheets.

“Go ahead, be the loud fucking slut you are. I want them to hear.”

She didn’t give in to his commands, groaning into the sheets. A yelp came from her mouth as his free hand wrapped her hair around his fingers, grasping at her scalp afterward. He leaned over her yet again, not having anything to say at this point. His hand removed itself from her cunt, placing a taught slap on her swollen folds.

He undressed in a matter of minutes, cursing at the layers of clothing that adorned his brawny build. He looked at her body, her body shaking from not receiving its release. He laughed to himself, rubbing the head of cock along her folds, her body shuddering under his touch.

“Shit- just fuck me already!”

That had come out a bit more pushy (and a bit louder) than she’d hoped it would come out. She was pretty sure that even Alucard, who was all the way at the end of the hall could’ve heard that.

“Such a little whore,” he spoke, swiftly burying his cock between her velvety walls.

Her back arched as he pushed himself further and further into her womanhood. Had it really been that long? She felt so full - for a moment, she forgot what it felt like to be filled up with Trevor’s cock. She felt every inch, their skin slapping with every inch. She instinctively clenched around him, enticing a loud, dragged out groan from Trevor.

She knew she didn’t have much longer as she had two previous orgasms pent up inside of her, her hands clenching onto the sheets while one of his were on her neck and the other digging its nails into the skin of her hips. Her legs shook, confusion consuming her as he didn’t stop. She came around him, an utterly intense moan rippling from the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” she cried out, her back arching even further as both of his hands held onto her hips, pounding into her.

“Turn around, I wanna see your tits,” he grunted, breathless as his hips snapped into hers.

She did as told, struggling as he still screwed her.

He hoisted her legs, the pit of his elbows supporting the back of her knees.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she got out through moans, one hand throwing her leg over his waist so it could occupy the free space of her neck.

“Making up for lost time, angel face,” he obtained a “matter-of-factly” tone, adding a wink while bringing her to her second orgasm.

And it continued like this all night. His abdomen flexed as each orgasm washed over both him and her, the moonlight shining on their gorgeous bodies.

“Gonna make you cum for each fucking day you decided to torture me.”

His hands had practically been engraved into her neck, red marks forming from how much time his nails spent digging into the sides of her necks. Her chest was littered in bites and hickies, a particularly dark bite embedded into the skin below her collarbone.

His semen painted her walls, filling her stomach as the curvature of his cock protruded her womb. He pulled out of her after earning a whopping twelve orgasms before her walls clenched around him unbearably tight, squirting around his length as her hands scrambled for any bit of his skin.

This orgasm waved through her like no other, her back entirely leaving the mattress as her nails pierced into Trevor’s skin. He pulled out of her, her jaw fallen slack as pants fell from her mouth. He admired the way his seed threatened to spill from her cunt, yet she clenched around nothing, sort of any attempt to cave it inside of her.

He hurried to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He tenderly maneuvered the wet fabric around her folds, muttering encouraging words as she fought sleep.

“You can sleep down, angel. You did so well for me.”

“I can’t believe how outstandingly you performed.”

As much as she desired it, she didn’t go to sleep, waiting for Trevor to return. She let out a content sigh as she rolled over, one leg throwing itself over both of his as she held his body close to hers in her arms.

“You are one very determined man, aren’t you, Belmont?”

Her voice was hoarse, surely moaning and praising him for how well he was fucking her caused more than half of it. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, eventually shutting once Trevor kissed her temple.

“Only determined when it comes to you,” he muttered, his arms caving around her waist as he too fell into a deep sleep.

“Oh, fuck me harder,” she heard Sypha as she approached the kitchen, rubbing her eyes as she looked to see the three people she loved most.

“Don’t stop, Trevor! You’re fucking me so well!”

She couldn’t fight the pink tint that splayed itself upon her cheeks, the warmth radiating through the rest of her body.

“Oh, you guys are just jealous that you aren’t getting any of this Belmont dick,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the scorching frying pan in front of him.

“Eh, you might be right about that one,” Alucard muttered, earning a snort from Y/N.

“Look who’s finally awake,” Sypha chuckled, looking at the deep red, soon to be purple marks decorating her best friend’s neck. “You two really went at it last night, didn’t you?”

“Pfft, it’s like he’s having sex with an animal or something,” Alucard retorted, his eyes trained on the bright red scratches on Trevor’s chest, back, and arms.

“Oh, shut it,” Y/N snapped, trying to hide the embarrassment by burying her face into the pit of her laid out arms. “When’s the last time you got laid?”

“Touché,” he muttered, an exaggerated sigh coming from his mouth as he took a sip of his overly brewed coffee.

“Besides, weren’t you two begging us to give you godchildren?” Trevor grinned, earning a groan from the rest of them. “I thought you’d be happy!”

#castlevania #castlevania netflix #castlevania series #castlevania smut #trevor belmont #trevor belmont imagine #trevor belmont imagines #trevor belmont smut #trevor belmont x reader #trevor belmont x you #trevor belmont x y/n #platonic!alucard x reader #platonic!adrian tepes x reader #platonic!sypha belnades x reader

948 notes · View notes

vivithefolle · 3 years

Note

Can I join your anti-Hermione club? Is there an application form? (In all seriousness, I'm so glad there's someone on Tumblr who is anti-Hermione for good reasons. It drives me absolutely insane how much the fandom worships her. I respect her intelligence, but there are so many absurdly unethical things she does. The hexing of Marietta Edgecombe - I researched it, it's both against contract law and would almost certainly be considered assault - was crazy, and even crazier was that it's excused.)

Hahaha, no application form needed, just a lot of bitterness and a touch of rage.

Something that really annoys me is how people are trying to tell me I'm doing Hermione-bashing when I give her the what-for. Or try to say "but she was a teenager :(". Really, freaking really? So when Hermione scars people on the face she's being a teenager but when Ron is pissy for a night in fourth year he's a total asshole? No, nope, not gonna let that lie.

My issue is that Ron's mistakes are teenager-sized; making an ass of yourself during a soirée, dating someone you're not really interested in because you're flattered by the attention, getting mad at your friend over silly stuff, saying stupid things without thinking... teenage mistakes. Those are teenage mistakes. (Something could be said of his leaving on the Horcrux Hunt but. Bitches. Voldemort himself (a part of him at least) was there singling him out for torture. Not to mention the heavy blood loss, the fact that his family's in danger, etcetera... But of course nobody is willing to accept those circumstances, nooo, it's only Ron who's the sole responsible for leaving absolutely, right, "Hermione is a teenager :(" and "Harry has PTSD :(((" but Ron isn't allowed to have problems of course. Fucking hypocrites.)

Meanwhile Hermione wakes up everyday and chooses violence and not for good reasons. I mean when your first reflex to distract someone is to set them on fire surely that indicates some issues? (Later on she forgets that she can use magic to light a fire... against a plant. I mean. How. How do you come to the conclusion that you should light a person on fire to "distract" them but cannot apply that reasoning to a goddamn killer plant.) The thing is people just... because we're constantly told that Hermione is intelligent/has good grades/works hard, people are quick to assume that she's obviously the most mature one in the room. But being a hard worker isn't necessarily a "proof" of maturity. It's just that people's expectations are that "a studious kid" is a mature kid, but really what they mean by "mature" is "doesn't annoy me to hell and back by playing noisily".

There’s this huge manipulation that plays on people’s expectations: being coded as “the studious girl” people are told through stereotypes that Hermione is smart, mature and logical… and the text is quick to try to reinforce the idea by having her spout definitions (=”smart”, for a degree of it; it’s mostly good memory), scold others for being rowdy (=mature, except that she’s not above it all either and a big part of maturity also involves REALIZING YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES which, Hermione’s don’t, so oops) and have her solve some puzzles or explain things (=logical… but sometimes her reasoning is based on emotion and she just tries to find evidence to justify why she thinks it’s right, rather than go from one thing to another).

When people try to brush off the fucked-up things Hermione did with "well she was a teenager" or "it was the war effort"... no. Fuck no. She didn't have to wipe her parents' minds and memories, there was the Order, the Dursleys were treated better than Hermione's parents for God's sake. But the only thing that matters about Hermione's parents is that they can be conveniently sacrificed to let us know how brave their daughter is right, it's not like she's in anything called the House of the Brave or something, it's not like she's constantly being thrown in mortal danger and is scared but keeps pushing forward, no we absolutely HAD to have a plot point that involves Hermione destroying two people's identities so we know how brave she is (how was any of it brave? Bravery is risking yourself, not the life of two innocents who barely know what's going on and are in no position to fight back).

And with the Romione fandom trying to push back to "nooo but she was a teenager m'kay she had her reasons for everything"... You want to get back to the Dark Ages where Hermione can do anything to Ron and it's his fault for not being perfect enough for her? Because that's how you go back to the Dark Ages.

In concept I love Romione. In the books I love it till about Book 3 (and even then that's pushing it because Hermione's utter disregard for Ron's pet sits very unwell with me, BUT okay fine she's still a child, it's her first pet, she has no idea how to own a pet and she's not used to being mindful of others' feelings. Then she gets validated by the plot because Scabbers was Pettigrew and somehow that means Hermione wasn't horribly callous to Ron's feelings or anything... meanwhile had it been Ron buying Crookshanks and Scabbers being Hermione's pet everyone would have been like "but who cares that Ron was right in the end, do you see how horribly he hurt poor Hermione's feelings!!!"...

It's just. No more excuses. Hermione is fucked-up. As a person, not just because of the war. She had a vicious, vindictive streak that only got enabled through the books because she never was called out on it. And I mean, I'm all for standing up for yourself, or for slapping Draco Malfoy's bitchy ass ferret face. But fuck. When you're doing the magic equivalent of an acid attack on someone's face, when you're physically abusing someone you're supposed to love AND THREATEN TO DO IT AGAIN AS IF IT WAS SOMETHING CUTE OR QUIRKY, when you're brainwashing your own parents into compliance because you can't be bothered to lie to them or make the Order get them... You know how many fics I've seen that take the "I did actually Confund my examiner" exchange from the Epilogue and run away with it to make it so Ron gets in a horrible car accident or invent entire collapses of the Statute of Secrecy as a result of an investigation connected to this "ha ha look it's funny Ron cheated on his exam" moment? Why don't I ever see a fic talking about how Hermione erasing her parents from existence leads to the destruction of Wizarding society through the legal bullshit that follows? Because Hermione dear, did you think to alter "Wendell" and "Monica"'s birth certificates? Their marriage contract? Their VISAs? Their bank accounts? Otherwise you've just turned your parents into homeless vagrants hopelessly lost in Australia who can't ever find a home anywhere because they simply don't exist in the eyes of any government. But hey nobody ever thinks of that because it's so much easier to nitpick everything Ron does. The only thing folks notice about Hermione nowaday is Emma Watson's boobies.

... I'm sorry, I just... Ugh. People.

#vivi answers #ask #hermione granger #hermione granger critical #hermione critical #ron weasley #ron weasley defence squad #ron weasley defense squad #harry potter #harry potter series #hp fandom #hp meta

186 notes · View notes

xxxsoukokuxxx · 3 years

Note

I want to hurt myself so- can I request for an angst scenario where Dazai finally opens up about his feelings with someone after a long time (bcz y'know) and they end up taking up advantage of it or using it??? If you want to add on something (not necessary) for Y/N's personality then I would say they're kind of like Nanno??? They give karma to people who have done bad deeds in the past. Thank you!! Sorry if it's too much, I just get excited

Character: Dazai x reader

Warnings: Depressing themes; mentions of self-harm; break-up; spelling errors/grammar errors

Notes: Hi there! Hope you're doing well. So sorry about making you wait so long, I've just been really busy, I hope you understand. Thank you for your patience. Okay, so I didn't know who "Nanno" was so I searched it up and it says something about her being the human embodiment of karma or something? I'll try to write something close to that

_________________________________________________

The Only Constant is Heartache and Emptiness

A lot of things change. People say that change is the only constant thing to exist in this world. But others may think differently and perhaps they're not far off from the truth. It's just that more often than not, it is them who are the ones who are the most misunderstood in this world.

Along with change being constant, there is also heartache and sorrow, insanity and hurt, sorrow and deep trenches of darkness. Quite frankly, Dazai thinks the same, and that true happiness would never last, and in happiness's place lies all these things mentioned.

But what if, somehow someone who coincidentally walked into his life and managed to change his perspective. What if you managed to make him see a glimmer of hope shining in the distance of the darkness he resides in? What if you were that glimmer of hope?

He doesn't know yet that he'd kick himself later for believing so.

*********************************************

You both by now were best friends, inseparable. Lying under the stars together was the usual, just like how you both were tonight. Conversation filled with laughter and curiosity about the bright orbs above went back and forth between Dazai and you.

A meaningful silence now filled the air as you lay side by side on the rooftop. The brunette turned his head to the side to look at you. You were so...ah how could he express what he felt? Mesmerizing? Beautiful? ...Warm?

Perhaps it was all of those things. He felt strange, you made him feel all warm and fuzzy. Sure it felt strange but he wasn't complaining. You realized he was looking at you and so you turned your head to meet his gaze. He smiled, genuinely.

Maybe, finally he'd be able to express to you the more...warmer side of his heart to you. All this time you've been his confidant as he expressed to you the dark and icy cold parts of his mind, the things that would drive him insane, he let you see the scars caused by himself and violence inflicted upon him by others. And you were there to hold him, to relieve him and let him have a taste of what true happiness is.

Whenever he expressed the warmer side of him, the softer more vulnerable one, it'd be genuine. He feels some confidence surge through him now.

Expressions and words of genuine love poured out from his heart through his lips. Oh how he'd think of himself a fool for ever letting himself be this vulnerable. You felt no sense of remorse for what you were doing to this man. You "accepted" his love tonight and honestly you've never seen him this genuinely happy.

*********************************************

He promised to love you like he'd lose you. And he did. He kept his promise and lost you too. Not in the way he thought however.

He had proved to you so many times that his love for you isn't fake. Dazai doesn't know how to express that warm and happy feeling in his chest bubbling to his throat. Honestly it was bliss. But perhaps he should have reminded himself that if he ever gets too happy, that happiness would soon be lost and everything will become nothing but shattered pieces of glass that he could cut himself on.

You came into his life in the form of karma. You were really going to break him, just as he did to those of his past. How could you hurt him? How could you hurt him after he got a taste of true happiness? How heartless you are.

Trust...yes. That's what it is. He trusts you. Why not use that against him?

Tonight it was just you and Dazai sitting lazily on the couch just enjoying the other's company. Or well at least he enjoyed yours. Perhaps now was the moment to strike, you had been lying patiently watching your prey and now it's time to make your move.

"I'm sorry." you muttered, emptiness visible in your eyes looking straight ahead of you at whatever was on tv.

His eyes widened, he was confused. He quirked up an eyebrow as he turned to look at you. "...sorry for what?" You glanced at him from the side of your eye, "Don't get offended but...I'm gonna be frank. I lied to you, I never really loved you." His brows furrowed and then...his expression became neutral and unreadable.

"You...you lied?..." he got no response for a few seconds. A dark shadow formed over his facial features, covering his eyes. "We just go our separate ways I guess..." you said as you stood up. He lifted his head, following your movement with his eyes. His heart sank.

"Why? Why'd you give me taste of what love really is and then leave me hanging? Why'd you make me trust again?...Why did you make me feel as if I had someone there for me!? ...why abandon me..." You could hear the hurt in his voice as he spoke, the last phrase he spoke was only a mutter.

"Why?" you mocked. "Perhaps you deserve it. You actually thought you deserved to be loved and be happy?" you slyly smirked looking at him. He didn't know what to do. Half of him believed everything you said while the other thought you were lying and that there was a whole other reason behind you saying this. Did you truly not love him? If not then what was all that you showed and gave him these past few months?

While thinking all this he didn't even realize you had walked out the door, he only heard it closing behind you. He was left there confused, empty and bereft. All that could be heard was the background noise of the tv. He couldn't even hear himself breathing. The brunette just sat there with his head hung low with an unreadable expression still on his face.

He feels so foolish. How could he have been so vulnerable? He felt so betrayed by both you and himself. How did he let himself again? How did you manage to break down his walls. And here he was proving that his love was genuine while yours wasn't.

All he had for company now was the emptiness surrounding him and making it's way inside him. His heart which started beating again when he met you has now stopped or at least he can't feel it.

"Why? Why'd you give me taste of what love really is and then leave me hanging? Why'd you make me trust again?...Why did you make me feel as if I had someone there for me!? ...why abandon me..."

"Why? Perhaps you deserve it. You actually thought you deserved to be loved and be happy?"

He didn't deserve it did he? He didn't deserve to be happy...to be loved. A soft defeated chuckle left his throat. Dazai sunk back into the couch. "It's always me that pays the cost...I should never trust so easily." he said underneath his breath. "You lied to me, then left with my heart around your chest..." he smiled and got up.

The brunette grabbed the bottle of sake from the table and left the living room. How foolish he had been...and how cruel you were.

#requests #kiyokoxd #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #angst #bsd angst #dazai x reader angst #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #scenario #ugh this is so bad #i tried tho #i am in this and i don't like it

157 notes · View notes

arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Free

A/N: I finally got my new laptop and was able to write again so I wrote an idea that’s been in my head for a while, it’s loosely inspired by Luther, a series that I’ve re watched recently, I hope you all enjoy.

Summary: Tom just knows you had something to do with your husbands murder. His problem? He can’t prove it.

Warnings: Swearing. Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, condoms are a barrier from many things), oral (Fem receiving), mentions of murder, talks of an abusive relationship. (Minors do not engage). I think that’s all.

This is purely a work of fiction. I accept constructive criticism.

W/C: 3.6K

You were driving Tom insane, he knew, in his gut, he was so sure that you had something to do with your husband’s disappearance. The case had landed itself on his desk when missing persons had deemed it a murder case, even without a body. Could he find the hard evidence that linked you to the murder? No. Was he sure it was you? A thousand per cent. Your case had been dropped months ago but he couldn’t get it or you out of his head.

“Tell me what happened?” Tom asked as he sat opposite you for the first time.

“I’ve already answered all of these questions.” You replied, Tom could tell you were nervous, you had a hard expression, but he saw straight through it.

“I don’t believe some of the answers that you gave.” He said as interlocked his hands on the desk, leaning slightly closer to you.

“I’m not really bothered what you believe, it’s what happened.” You fired back.

“People don’t just disappear.”

“Sure, they do. That’s what missing person’s is for, right?” You said as you cocked an eyebrow at him and he almost smiled, slightly enamored by the way you were handling his questioning. He’d gained a reputation for getting people to crack, but you? You seemed unfazed by his line of questioning.

Ultimately Tom had had to let you go because he couldn’t find the evidence, he needed to convict you. It drove him mad, it had him stumped for months just trying to figure out how you’d done it. How you’d evaded his thorough analysis of your property and workplace. You were smart, that was glaringly obvious to him, every time he thought he’d found something, he came up short.

A week ago, he’d found himself with a similar case on his desk, only this time the body was found. Again, there wasn’t much evidence but there were so many similarities between your case and this one. He found himself up for hours cross referencing your case file and this one, although the woman they suspected this time wasn’t as intelligent as you were, she’d lied about her alibi. Unlike you she’d said she was with a friend who denied it. You on the other hand had said you were at home all day and he couldn’t confirm that as truth and so this evidence became inadmissible in court.

He’d found himself on your doorstep, almost wanting to beg for your help, it was strange, he’d never felt like he needed anyone else’s help before yet here he was outside your door.

“Detective Holland. A man I thought I’d never seen again.” You said once you opened your door. He couldn’t help but note how beautiful you looked, he shook the thought away as he showed his badge and entered your home.

“Mrs. Leigh, I need your help.” He said in a matter-of-fact manner, he noted the small smile that had appeared on your lips and fought his own back, yours was so contagious.

“It’s Miss L/N now.” You politely corrected him.

“My apologies.”

“What could you possibly need my help with?”

“A case I’m trying to solve.”

“Forgive me but I’m not sure how I could be of help to you.” You said with furrowed brows.

“I think you could.”

He talked you through the case and his theories, all the holes in stories and suspicious behavior and you just drank it all in, nodding in certain places but ultimately you kept quiet. It wasn’t until e was done that you spoke.

“I mean, and this is all hypothetical, you’d hide the weapon in plain sight.” You answered as you made your way over to your fridge.

“That would be stupid though.” Tom said confidently, there was no way he’d missed something that was in plain sight. He watched as you pulled the bottle of wine from the fridge with a sigh. What had urged you to help him was beyond you, but a part of you knew that your case still haunted him, and you somehow felt guilty for it.

“People like you will always overlook stupid.” You said with a confidence he couldn’t quite place.

“So, you’re saying if someone wanted to hide evidence, they’d do it in plain sight because we’d overlook it?” Tom was bewildered, there was no way that this could be true, he’d spent hours going over the case files, there’s no way he missed such major evidence such as the murder weapon. He watched as you nodded mindlessly before digging through the drawer for a bottle opener.

“The autopsy report indicates a stab wound to the neck.” He continued. “They bled out. I’ve searched that house and I couldn’t find a single knife small enough to fit that wound.” He spoke. He knew the evidence for this case was in the house, the timing of everything would not have given the perpetrator any time to hide evidence away from the house.

He watched as you took the cork out of the bottle, once you’d removed the cork you placed the bottle opener on the counter, the tiny blade used for taking the paper lining off the bottle top was shining at him, almost mocking him.

“I could think of a few.” You hummed as you filled a wine glass. Tom was filled with excitement as he realized you were right, the small knife was easily concealed within the opener, he had overlooked it, not thought for a second that such a small knife was in the most basic household item.

“All I need to do is tie the murder weapon to her and case closed.” He beamed and you smiled, genuinely smiled for the first time since Tom had met you and he couldn’t help but return it, he really was enamored with you.

“Case closed.” You smiled as you sipped from your wine glass.

You had started to infect the young detective’s thoughts in a different way. He used to obsess over how you’d done it and now he was more obsessed as to why. He couldn’t understand how a woman like you, who was so quiet, kind and charismatic could have harmed another person. He started to wonder if he was wrong, if you’d had anything to do with it at all but his gut told him you did.

All the evidence for his current case came together and the victim’s wife had gone to prison for his murder, pleading guilty. She’d killed him because she wanted his money. He thought back to your case, your husband had had a lot of money, but he couldn’t see that being your motive, he couldn’t think of anything that would motivate you to murder someone. Over the time it took him to gather the evidence, he’d sought out your help more than once and he’d become enchanted by you, he found you intriguing, he wanted to get to know you better.

He wondered if that was what had brought him to your doorstep yet again. He should have been out celebrating the win, but he found himself outside your door. He knocked and wondered if you’d answer, it was late, he noted but he found himself hoping you’d open your door for him. When he heard the lock click his heart raced with excitement, he hoped you’d have that lovely smile on your face that you always had.

“Detective.” You smiled and he laughed.

“Tom.” He corrected and you smiled wider at him.

“What brings you to my doorstep Tom?”

“I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“I’m not sure I’d have found that evidence had it not been for our chat, so thank you.”

“Well, you’re welcome. Did you want to come in? I’ve just opened a bottle of red.” You asked with that oh so contagious smile.

“How could I refuse?” He said as he made his way passed you and into the living room that he’d become so familiar with.

A bottle of red wine shared between the two later had them both feeling slightly tipsy. Tom knew he should probably make a move, but he didn’t want to, not unless you wanted him to. He found he very much enjoyed your company and wanted to stay in it as long as possible.

“Thank you for helping me finish the wine.” You smiled.

“Favor returned?” He smirked and you laughed.

“Sure. I suppose I won’t see you now.” You thought aloud.

“I suppose not.” He said, you’d moved closer to each other now, faces inches apart. “Unless you want to help me solve more cases.” He continued.

“I don’t think you’ll need my help again.” You said quietly, eyes flicking from each other’s eyes to each other’s lips.

“You never know.” He answered as quietly as you had. Tom licked his lips in anticipation, he probably shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of kissing you, but he couldn’t help it. You hummed in response as your noses brushed one an other’s. He couldn’t stop himself as he closed the small distance between you.

Your lips met in a desperate kiss, his hands finding your hair as you fisted his shirt in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you. His mind felt blank as he became completely consumed by thoughts of you and what he wanted to do to you. He’d found you attractive the second he’d brought you in for questioning all those months ago but the more he’d gotten to know you the more he found you attractive. The rational part of his brain that was telling him this might be dangerous shut off as bit your bottom lip and you moaned slightly.

Your lips disconnected as you both needed air, both as breathless as each other. You looked at him and the look in your eyes drove him wild, your beautiful eyes were looking back at him completely list blown. He reconnected your lips as you straddled him, his hands finding your waist, lifting your shirt slightly to feel your skin.

“Bedroom?” He asked through a breath as your lips briefly disconnected.

“Upstairs, third door on the right.” You said quickly before reconnecting your lips, the kiss was hot and heavy as Tom stood, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom, not breaking the kiss for a second. As soon as he found himself in your room, you both fell onto the bed, Tom’s back hitting the mattress. He almost moaned as you rocked your hips into his, the friction causing him to stiffen even more than he thought possible.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He said as he sat up, his lips connecting with your neck. You rolled your head back to give him more access and he took the opportunity to trail kisses down your throat, listening to the small gasps you were exhaling. He was more aroused than he’d ever been in his life, he felt completely drunk off you.

“Tom, I really want you to fuck me.” You spoke and Tom groaned at the filthy words that left your mouth, he wasn’t expecting it.

“Wanna taste you first.” He spoke as he flipped you both over, your back easily hitting the mattress as your lips reconnected. He trailed kisses down your neck as his hands went to the hem of your shirt, pulling it from you effortlessly. He unclipped your bra and threw both your shirt and bra onto the floor. Kissing down your chest as he took a nipple into his mouth, slightly grazing it with his teeth before licking and sucking at it.

Your moans grew louder, and Tom found himself entranced by the sounds you were making, he doesn’t recall ever being with anyone who sounded as pretty as you did. He continued his attention on your nipples, switching from one to the other.

“Tom, please.” You begged and he smirked against your skin.

“What?” He asked as he made eye contact with you, his fingers moving to roll your nipple.

“I need you to move lower.” You moaned.

“Whatever you want baby.” He spoke as he placed a final kiss to your breast before moving down your body.

He quickly removed your shorts and groaned when he realized you didn’t have underwear on. He looked at your glistening heat and almost moaned at how wet you were for him.

“So wet, look at this.” He said as he ran a finger through your folds. “I’ve barely touched you and your soaked.” He smirked as you rolled your head back into the pillow.

“Please.” You begged as he let out a breath over your heat, watched as you jolted slightly from the sensation. “Tom.” You moaned as he ran his tongue through your heat.

“You taste fucking amazing.” He said before practically diving in, sucking your clit as he listened to your moans. He continued to lick and suck at your clit as he heard your moans grow louder, you must have been close he thought to himself as he sucked your clit and listened to the high-pitched moan you released.

He felt as your hand moved to his hair, almost keeping him still as he continued to lick and suck at your clit, your hips bucking up to meet his movements and e found it so incredibly hot, the way you’d started to use his face to almost get yourself off was driving him wild.

You let out a moan of his name as your orgasm crashed through you, Tom felt your legs shake and helped you through your intense orgasm, feeling proud of himself for not disappointing you. Once you’d come down from your high, he pulled away, moving back up your body, your legs continuing to shake through your aftershocks.

“So perfect.” He mumbled as he gave you a quick kiss, taking in the blissful expression on your face. “Did so well for me. Fucking hot.” He said again as you removed his shirt, placing a kiss onto his chest. You continued pressing kisses to his chest as he fumbled with his belt, almost getting frustrated as it got caught.

“Here.” you said as your hands took over, taking his belt into your own hands, undoing it almost like it was second nature to you. He found it all the more of a turn on. You made short work of his pants; they found their place with the rest of the clothes on the floor of your bedroom.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked.

“Yes. I want you to fuck me Tom.”

It was all the confirmation he needed as he slipped into you, both of you moaning at the contact. Fuck, you felt good, almost perfect for him. You were both a moaning mess as he thrusted into you over and over again. His hand gripping your thigh to hoist it higher around his waist. You almost screamed as he found your g spot from his new angle, your nails clawing at his back which only made him thrust into you harder.

“Fuck, that feels good, you feel so fucking amazing.” He said as he felt you clench around him. He shifted your leg higher to get an even better angle on your g spot as he continuously pounded into you, listening to your moans of his name. he felt his own orgasm approach as you tightened around him, he knew you were close, and he watched in awe as you reached your own hand to your clit and started to rub it.

“That’s it baby.” He said and after a few more thrusts he felt you come around him which brought on his own orgasm, he removed himself from your tight heat and released his load all over your stomach with a moan of your name.

It took you both a good few minutes to recover, he was collapsed on top of you as you ran your fingers through his hair. He kissed your shoulder every few minutes and found himself more happy and content than he’d been in a long time. He removed himself from the top of you and went into the bathroom to find a warm cloth to wash the two of you off.

Once you were both cleaned up he laid in your bed with your head on hi chest as you slept soundly, and he ran his hands through your hair. He was deep in thought as he thought about your case and what had happened and now he was dying to know what had driven you to commit such an act. He was so sure in his gut you’d done it but having you here in the state you were he wondered how you could harm an insect, let alone another person.

“I wish you’d tell me what happened. Just be honest, everything’s different now. I’d want you to confide in me as your partner not see me as a detective who’s looking to lock you away. Fuck Princess, I think I’d move the Earth if you asked me to.” He whispered and he meant it, he didn’t want this time with you to end, he was so infatuated with you by this point. He fell asleep after a while, thoughts of you completely on his mind.

“I need to know how you did it.” He spoke after a while of you both being awake, you were spooning now as his hand rubbed your bare skin, he pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“You’ve read the file.” You spoke.

“That says you didn’t do it, but I know you did Princess.”

“My case is closed, why don’t you leave it at that?”

“I can’t. I’m obsessing over it.”

“I’ve already told you.” You said after a while and Tom furrowed his brows as he turned you onto your back so he could look at you.

“No. You haven’t.” He spoke carefully, maybe he’d missed something, a confession maybe.

“For a Detective Inspector, you can be pretty stupid.” You laughed and he thought on your words for a second. Thought about how much help you’d been and what you’d said, of course you knew how this woman had done it, it was how you’d done it. The only difference was that you’d managed to dispose of the body.

“So, you did do it?” He said quietly, a small part of him was proud he was right, his gut was never wrong, but the bigger part of him wondered why.

“You just need to prove it.” You said as a tear made its way down your cheek. Of all the things Tom expected, this wasn’t one of them, he wasn’t expecting you to cry.

“Hey,” he said as he swiped the tear away with his thumb. “Tell me what happened.” He urged in the most comforting manner he could, he needed you to know you could trust him with this.

“Have you ever felt trapped? That’s how he made me feel, like I had no way out. I tried to leave him so many times, but he wouldn’t let me, he had me by the throat and it felt like he was squeezing the life out of me.” You said through your tears and Tom’s heart dropped, this wasn’t a usual case where the wife murders the husband for a payout. “He wasn’t the nice rich guy everyone thought he was, he hit me, took all his anger out on me but I could never prove it, if I had bruises I wasn’t allowed to leave the house until they weren’t visible, which wasn’t often. I snapped.” You spoke and he pulled you into a hug.

“Y/N…” He said and you interrupted him.

“But it never matters to people like you. You don’t give leeway for the small amount of people who had no other choice. That’s why I never came clean, never admitted to what I’d done, I didn’t want him to trap me any more than he had, I didn’t want to go to prison because of him.” You said as you finally let the tears out that you’d kept in for so many months.

You hadn’t intended to kill him; it was an accident. You cried for ten minutes as Tom held you, placing comforting kisses to your temple. Something about finally telling the truth was freeing, you knew he could and would probably arrest you for this, but it felt good to finally tell someone the truth that was eating away at you.

“I’m not going to do anything.” Tom spoke after a while.

“What?” You asked through sniffles as your tears ceased.

“I understand now. You’ve been punished enough. Your secret is safe with me.” He said sincerely and you believed him, but you didn’t want to drag him down with you.

“You could lose your job, go to prison if anyone found out.” You said and he kissed your cheek.

“They won’t, your case has become a cold one. There’s still no body, I doubt they’ll reopen the case.” He said through a small smile. He didn’t want to ask what you’d done with the body, he assumed you were clever enough to make sure it was never found and if it was he would make sure none of the evidence led to you, he would make sure that all the evidence ran dry, he felt like he would do anything for you.

“So, I’m free?” You spoke, hope lacing every word.

“You’re free baby.”

#tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut

155 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Cold Case 5

“You’re part of this conspiracy, too?” asked McGee, backing up a few steps. He wasn’t quite ready to confront the whole ‘speaking to a dead person’ thing. Not yet.

“Well. Yeah. As far as a conspiracy exists anyway. You are standing on my grave.” A wisp of mist peeled off the ghost, and the edges of his form flickered.

“Your…” He resisted the urge to glance at the gravestone. All the offerings made more sense if people thought their hero’s body was there.

… Everything about this situation was insane, wasn’t it? He was here, talking to a ghost he’d thought was fictional five minutes ago and standing on his grave. Not that he hadn’t thought all ghosts were fictional up until a couple of hours ago.

“Yep, it’s mine. Which is why I came down here. I can tell when someone is making weird promises to my dead body. It is a school night, you know?”

“People keep saying that. Why does it even matterthat it’s a school night?

“Because I like going to school, and contrary to popular opinion, ghosts do need rest. We sleep when we’re dead and all that.”

“Was that a pun?” demanded McGee, incredulous.

“More like a play on a common figure of speech or a literal metaphor, but, sure, call it a pun. Why are you so focused on my death, anyway?”

“You, I, what, this,” babbled McGee, trying to get a handle on his thoughts. “You’re a pre-teen who was buried in the woods. I’m not heartless.”

“Rude. I’m not a pre-teen. And I was sort of the one to do the burying, so…” The ghost tilted his head, frowning slightly. “You’re not having a heart attack, are you?”

“No,” said McGee.

“It’s just, you’re really holding onto your chest, there. I could fly you to—”

“I am not having a heart attack,” said McGee. “Stop changing the subject! You-! You’re-!” McGee sat down abruptly, careless of the condensation on the grass.

“You know, it’s normal to have an existential crisis when confronted with your own mortality.”

“I’ve already confronted my mortality! I’m a police detective for goodness’ sake!”

“Okay, okay. Jeez.”

“And you- Your death. You said I already knew how you’d died. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Phantom shrugged. “It’s listed as an accident. And it was. I asked them not to put down the details. I like my living family to have privacy.”

“And the whole conspiracy?”

“Be honest,” said Phantom. “It isn’t really all that much of a conspiracy. The town gets most of its revenue from tourism. We’re actually pretty public about it.”

“But that’s not real.”

“Some of it is.” The ghost rubbed the back of his head. “We kind of all know you were sent to spy on us,” he said. “So, you’re probably wondering how to spin this.”

McGee felt his eye twitch. “Collins and Patterson told you?”

“Not really. It’s just obvious. But, like, outside of the GIW, no one is going to believe you that the reason for Amity being so messed up is ghosts. And you’ve seen the GIW.”

“They chased glowsticks around a park,” said McGee, dully. The action made more sense now that he knew about ghosts, but still.

Phantom laughed, a twinkling sound. “Yep. That was a good one. Anyway, I don’t know what your bosses are like, but I guess your options here are to either quit, or, well, if you can’t beat ‘em…”

“Is this a recruitment pitch? Are you, a ghost, trying to give me a recruitment pitch to join your vaguely illegal conspiracy town full of corruption and unsolved murders?”

“First off, to get unsolved murders here you have to go way back. Like I said, my death was an accident. Secondly. Is it working?”

McGee put his head in his hands.

“Welp. It isn’t like you have to decide right away. Your timeline’s determined by whoever your bosses are. No one here hates you, though, if that makes it easier. Collins and Patterson wouldn’t have shown you the Neon District, otherwise. They’d have waited ‘til you ran into a daylight battle, tried to scare you off. That kind of thing.”

“This is them not trying to scare me off?” asked McGee, humorlessly.

“Yeah, I know, it doesn’t seem like it, but it’s true.” Phantom paused. “Ah, that wasn’t exactly the thing to say to put you at ease, was it?”

“What,” said McGee, “is worse than this? What is worse than the dead coming back to like and those alien-looking green blobs coming through and the Fentons, oh my god, what is worse than what they were driving?”

“Oh, gee,” said Phantom, not meeting McGee’s questioning gaze. “Would you look at the time. I’ve got to go. School night and all.”

With that, the ghost disappeared.

Slowly, McGee dragged himself back to his car, turned it on, and just sat there, heater on full blast. This was… a lot to take in. A whole lot.

He rubbed his hand over his face.

Ghosts.

Real ghosts.

Who had opinions about investigations into their deaths.

Had he somehow been sucked into a demented supernatural buddy-cop drama? He was tempted to go searching for cameras.

He was tempted to invest himself fully into whatever this was, because didn’t everyone dream about being in a story like this? Being involved in something fantastic and meaningful? Being the hero of a story, no matter how short?

But this was really to much for someone his age. And he really had to come up with something to say to his bosses, because he really, really doubted that they’d accept him quitting to join the Amity Park Police Department as a non-spy.

He closed his eyes and let himself breathe. He didn’t have to decide how to handle this now. Maybe he’d take Collins and Patterson up on that day off. Think about it for a while.

But.

Ghosts.

Could he live with himself if he just left?

Ice glittered on the ground illuminated by his headlights, as if mocking him for his earlier ambitions about solving cold cases, for all the ignorant thoughts he’d had when first arriving. Could a case really be called cold when the victim was available to give an interview?

Well, yes, assaults went cold all the time, but, still…

Even if McGee didn’t know the details of his eventual decision, he knew, then, that even if he left, he’d never be able to forget Amity Park. It was too good of a mystery. And all other fantasies pushed aside, he’d become a detective to solve mysteries.

In short: he wasn’t leaving.

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2021 #dannymay 2021 day 29: conspiracy #exhumed #cold case

181 notes · View notes

tipsydipsydo · 3 years

Text

Birthday Gift [M]

Pairing: octopus hybrid! Jimin x human! Reader x octopus hybrid! Seokjin

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 1.2k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut/PwP

Warnings: Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; Sex Toys; Masturbation; Double Penetration; Anal play; Oral (f.); Exhibitionism + Voyeurism; slight Overstimulation; Strength-/Power-Play; Praising; Petnames; Orgasm Denial; Teasing; Edging; Tentacle-Play; Jimin has a tentacle tongue...

A/N: Finally it’s done! That’s my sweet and short Birthday-Gift for my dear friend @breadoffoxy and I hope you like it Baby~ I’m so sorry that it took me so long!! But I’ve finally written it and I really hope that I ruined you at least a little with it!

Status: unedited

[Links]:

▪BTS Smut Drabbles | My Writings

▪Blog Navigation

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Within a single second your whole face, your ears and even your neck burns in the color of beet red and you have some struggles to gulp properly. Quickly you turn the package around and put the ripped wrapper over it, looking around in your silent and empty apartment. Even though you alone at home and Jimin is already at work... you’re panicking that someone would see you with such an obscene object, too embarrassed to even look at it. You literally expected everything... just not that. Not such a gift with such a comment in the card he wrote.

Today is your birthday and you was more than exited to know what your Boyfriend Jimin got you for your first shared birthday, especially after he teased you for weeks with subtle hints. The little comments he dropped here and there made you with every new day more curious but you couldn’t connect the details with another. At the end of the day you didn’t knew anything new except the fact you’d die out of curiosity before your birthday arrive.

Now ‘the day’ of all days finally arrived and you are flustered beyond belief, in fact a little mortified somehow. Despite all of the shame you sense, there is arousal pooling between your legs. You can’t resist the urge to pull the damaged wrapper away and to look at your gift once again. Almost automatically your front teeth are gnawing on your bottom lip and the slowly growing ball of lust makes itself noticeable in the pit of your stomach. Yeah, Jimin makes definitely sure you’ll enjoy yourself and keep your needs satisfied.

In front of you, on the surface of the table lays a new tentacle dildo which is still wrapped in the hygiene plastic bag. It’s a little bigger than the one you already own and has a slightly different coloring. Your boyfriend knows how much you love that toy, integrated it more than once in a play session and learned quickly how to use it to drive you completely insane. One time you quietly mentioned that you wish you’d have the money to purchase a second dildo of this type... you have a weak spot for double penetration and the unique texture of the toy made you almost addicted to it.

‘Happy birthday, my Darling!

I hope you enjoy your day off and that you like the first gift I’ve got you for your birthday~ ;)

I’d love to see you using the toy and his sibling when I come home from work... would you do that for me? It’s essential for the next presents I’ve organized for you.

Love, Jimin’

Oh god... you don’t even dare to imagine what Jimin have planned for you, it sounds so delicious yet so unholy and sinful. You have no Idea how you’ll survive the night after he gave you those instructions.

You’re so lost in your own pleasure that you didn’t even noticed that someone arrived and opened the front door, let alone that two figures are now standing in the door frame of the bedroom and watches you silently.

The suction base of the smaller dildo is attached to the flat plastic panel you’ve bought some time ago to be able to use this toy without hands in bed as well. The length of the tentacle dildo is completely buried in your cute ass, your stretched out rim gripping the girth firmly and hold the toy in place. It’s so deep in you that your ass cheeks almost reaches the plastic surface, your feet and your back on the wall are supporting your body weight.

Your birthday gift, the new and bigger tentacle, plunges into your tight pussy in a rapid pace and causes such beautiful and delicious squelching noises... so nasty and filthy. The big toy stretches you so wide open, up to the point that you are sure your pussyhole would gape if you’d take it out. Your arms are aching from the weight of the toy and the strength you have to put into the thrusts to make the friction really pleasurable. But all of this doesn’t stop you to pushes your own limits, this feeling of getting stuffed so fucking full with tentacle turns your brain to mush. You can’t think properly anymore, the only thought in your ruined brain is about cumming on these dildos so often until you pass out.

“Oh Babygirl... I see, you followed my instructions like I said. Hmm, such a good girl you are for me. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

Jimin’s teasing voice and his chuckles let you snap out of your lost thoughts, your eyes widen at the sight of Seokjin besides him. The taller man leans with crossed arms against the opposite of the door frame and smiles devilishly at you. His eyes are dark and full of lust and the thin fabric of his chinos aren’t hiding anything of his hard and aching boner. He’s showing you in a shameless manner what your little unintentional show did to him.

“Sweetheart, you can’t imagine how happy I was the moment I found out about your tentacle dildo... there are a few things I was worried to tell you about. You need to know, Seokjin and I are a little different to... normal humans. We have special abilities and features... we both are octopus! Hybrids. Besides our normal human limbs we own four other octopus arms and if we want to, we can show them off. What about we show them to you and make you feel even better with them? I’ll only accept those silicone tentacles for foreplay and self-pleasure now, is that clear? Now, get off of those toys and let us make you cum until you can’t scream anymore...”

You’re only able to nod, trying to process all of this with your mouth agape but they even let you collect one single logical thought. Pulling the toys out of you and remove the panel completely, Seokjin takes the place behind you instead. Then you can already feel very realistic, slippery tentacles wrapping themself around your thighs, opening your legs even further and holding you with a tight grip in your place.

Jimin goes on his knees between your legs, eyes sparkling brightly in a color you’ve never seen before and his lips opens in a smirk. His tongue pokes out, only the form of the muscle reminds you of a human body part. The texture is completely different, has now a bumpy structure but looks kinda similar to Seokjin’s tentacles... slowly the certitude sinks in. It’s the fifth limb, one of Jimin’s tentacles.

“I know how much you love to have my tongue between your legs, you have such an insatiable oral fixation, don’t you? What about we combine these two things with each other, getting tongue-fucked by my tentacle... hm? Spread those swollen pussy lips for me and show me how your greedy, gaping hole clenches around nothing. Expose your pussy for me.”

These are the last words before Jimin drowned himself between your legs.

287 notes · View notes

harlowwrites · 3 years

Text

Unlucky.

[Not my gif]

Pairing: Yandere! Steve Rogers x Gender neutral! reader

Warnings: Other than mentions of drugging not much I guess

4 years.

Oh yeah, you counted the years from when you finally escaped his grasp. You inhaled the fresh air, You had moved from the busy city life and into the country side, completely changing your identity.

You lived as Amara Harper, Not Y/n L/n, Amara Harper. It was crucial that you stayed on your toes at all times, you didn’t even want to fathom what would happen if you got caught again.

You stood up from under the tree and looked at your pocket watch, you trashed the watch he gifted you, You knew he put a tracker in it you weren’t dumb. You left anything remotely modern and completely gave into the country style.

“G’morning Amara nice day out eh?” Mr. Carter, You nodded and gave him a soft smile, “I agree sir, That’s why I’m out here enjoying it what about you?”

“Oh don’t mind me darlin’ just getting some tools.” He laughed as he waved a final goodbye letting sigh a relief. You were gripping your book so hard it nearly tore.

Darling.

You shivered even though the sun was perfectly warm, you felt cold, that word reminded you so much of him, The man that literally kept you behind bars. The man that thought he was doing the right thing. You didn’t want to remember him, no, so you started walking back to your small cabin to freshen up.

While walking you couldn’t help but notice footprints going the same direction to your house, Huh?, you didn’t remember giving anyone but Mr. Carter your address. He had to deliver you food and certain groceries because you lived up on the hill.

“No... it can’t be him.” You mumbled to yourself as you picked up your pace up the hill, afraid, there was no way he could’ve ever found you again it had been years. He should’ve forgotten you by now.

You shook your head, trying to get that thought of your head.

Yawning you took out the keys from your basket but noticed the door was opened a little, You froze and reached for the door handle opening it slightly so you could see who it was.

“No...” You whispered as he stood in the far corner of your living room leaning on a wall, He turned his head in your direction and you immediately flinched. Why... No, how did he find you?

You made sure to trash anything that led to you, you don’t even have a phone for fucks sake so how... How?

“Don’t waste your time thinking about how I got here, darling.” He chuckled darkly as he walked closer to you. You slowly turned your head to leave when you felt his arm snake around your hip, You whipped your head around to meet his eyes but he had already pushed you into his chest and pulled you into your house.

The warmth... Oh how you missed it, cuddling him on his couch hearing his soothing heartbeat not caring about the world because he took care of you. No, what were you thinking? You couldn’t be lured into his honey trap again, you wouldn’t be able to get out again.

He drugged you. Numerous amounts of times just because you wanted to go out and have fun, of course he couldn’t let that happen, his angel was too pure for the world.

He was delusional, he caged you in his house, not letting you see the sun ever again.

You pushed at his chest, refusing to like his embrace. Steve chuckled, he looked down and sighed ruffling your hair in the process. “Don’t struggle and accept it.”

“No! I will never accept this... this shit!” Punching his chest, hoping he would let you go.

“Watch your language.” He growled, you stifled a quiet whimper, the memories immediately flooding back into your head. He pet your head as he felt you relax in his embrace. He smiled to himself thinking that you finally let him take care of you.

"Don’t worry bunny, I won’t let you run away again.” He whispered into your ear while playing with your hair. Without warning he picked you up with ease, he pushed the door open and started walking.

Steve’s voice still repeating in your head; I won’t let you run away again. It kept you in a trance. Still in a daze, you looked around, the warm sun hitting the both of you making you squint.

Shit.

It hit you all at once, he had found you again, how could you let this happen? You started yelling, you didn’t know for who but you just hoped someone was nearby.

“Help! Please anyone!” Steve immediately glared down at you, he undid his tie and harshly stuffed it into your mouth, he suddenly gripped your chin, “You better behave, bunny.”

As Steve was glaring at you, Mr. Carter walked around the corner. Hope suddenly refilled you flailed your arms trying to get him to look over here.

“Oh, er, Aren’t you that Captain America guy?” Mr. Carter said as he adjusted his glasses. “Why is Amara in your arms? Yer kidnapping them or something?” He said obviously joking.

Steve tensed up but brushed it off and smiled at him with his signature smile. “they got into a little... trouble on the way up, had to save them sir. their ankle is twisted.” He replied calmly but you knew he was fuming inside.

Mr. Carter nodded and waved him a goodbye before turning the corner and ultimately leaving, your only hope. Steve turned around and hugged you tighter grumbling about distractions from his darling.

You glared at him, that was utter bullshit, he is kidnapping you. He was a psycho and you hated yourself for ever falling in love with him in the first place.

You sighed and looked at the counter in boredom, it was empty, You worked at a diner that only served breakfast and it was noon so the diner was basically deserted.

“Can’t we go, I’m honestly sure no one is going to come for breakfast at 12:30 in the afternoon.” You said as you picked at the leftover food next to you. Your manager, Wanda, laughed and walked next to you wrapping her arm around your shoulder.

“Just wait another hour, Captain America is about to walk through.” You looked at her in disbelief as she said that. “I’m not lying!” You snorted. “Yeah right.”

She rolled her eyes and shook you, “Cheer up, make yourself a sandwich or something to pass the time.” You mumbled a ok and slumped in your chair.

Wanda was such a nice manager, you were a little lucky in that sense. Only a little though.

Time had passed and one sandwich was gone, You looked up at the clock; 1:30 pm, huh. He should be walking in anytime soon. You brushed your apron down and dusted the remainder of the bread crumbs away.

Ding, the doorbell rang as the towering man walked in, Wow, you thought, he is built like a Greek statue. His shirt was tight around his chest and his biceps. You couldn’t help but stare.

He chuckled a little and took off his sunglasses, letting you get a glimpse of his perfect blue eyes. God, you’ve seen them in pictures and posters but seeing them in real life was so... surreal.

Steve finally took a seat and you handed him a menu, “Ah, I’m fine doll I’ve been here way too many times, Wanda know what I want you can go ahead and ask her.”

“Oh alright then, uh coming right up!”

Doll, Doll, Doll.

That nickname was going to drive you insane.

You walked into the kitchen, Wanda already handing you his regular. “Wh-”

“He asked you to talk to me right?” She asked not looking up at the stove, You nod but then say yes forgetting she couldn’t see you.

“Yep, made it already, No need to thank me hun.” She leaned on the counter with a rag on her shoulder. Wanda winked at you and urged you to go out and give it to him.

You quickly thank her and walk out holding the plate in one hand and his drink in the other.

“Here you go and here you go.” You place his food and warmly smiled at him.

“Thank you doll.” He grabbed your hand and placed a 20 dollar note in your hand before you could leave. “Oh sir... No I can’t accept this, It’s too much.” You were stunned to say the least, you never got this much as a tip.

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved you off and started eating, You slowly started to walk off, pocketing the 20 dollars smiling widely.

Steve looked back up at you, he smiled, The way you talked to him was... warm. You weren’t all over him like the others you were a warm ray of sunshine. You disappeared behind the door and a wave of panic rushed over him.

He knew you left to go back to the kitchen, you worked here but he didn’t want you to leave.... He needed to protect you so you wouldn’t change. He got up and left money enough to pay for his food and left.

After that, everything went downhill from there.

The kidnapping, the constant manipulation you couldn’t take it anymore so you finally escaped.

And now you were back in his arms.

How unlucky.

A/n: a simple oneshot, hope you enjoy !

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere!steve rogers x reader #yandere steve rogers #yandere steve #yandere marvel #yandere avengers #dark!steve rogers x reader

216 notes · View notes

kireijae · 3 years

Text

fearless — n.jm x reader

summary: you start a new job at your favourite local bookstore in seoul, however no one cared to inform you of the very pretty delivery guy who comes once a week.

genre: twist (ig?) on a bookstore!au, nonidol!au, fluff, angst, some crack too

warnings: swearing, detailed descriptions of food and eating, edited but not very well, i cried while writing it (if i forgot any or you want me to add specific ones, send an ask or message me!)

words: 6k

a.n: i worked so hard on this oh my goodness it was like giving birth dkfjdsfnsd. but really i love this one a lot so i hope you all enjoy it because i did my best to do the story i had in my head justice. also! let me know what you thought of it!

m.list

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The streets were quiet as you walked to the bookstore. Your bag was heavy in your hand and the sun danced around you, creating a blinding sort of glow on the pavement beneath your feet. You passed modern coffee shops and tall skyscrapers alike, buildings becoming more and more modern the longer you walked. All right angles, smooth surfaces and tinted windows glinting in the morning sun. It was only your second day on the job, but the route was already familiar to you, after having visited the bookstore quite often over the few years you’d been living in the city.

The tingling sounds of the old bell above the door fell around you like snowflakes as you stepped inside. It was quite literally like stepping into another realm. The floor was paved with stone tiles, little shoots of green peaking up between them here and there. The glass walls were lined with creepers and bookshelves alike and the glass roof allowed for the rays of sunlight to poke through the trees’ branches above.

Your eyes were pulled to Jisoo after her voice called to you from behind the cash register. “Good morning!” she said, eyes bright and her voice chipper.

She gave you a short list of things to do before opening the store while she did some admin in the back room. You rearranged bookshelves, tidied the seating area in the centre of the room, fluffing up the old embroidered cushions and wiping the coffee stain off the old wooden table. Once you heard the old clock near the counter sing its tune to signal the hour, you walked over to the door to flip the sign that hung there.

The day went by slowly, with barely any customers walking through the doors. You were half asleep at the register when you heard the bell at the door ring and you sat up from your crunched up position on the old stool. You blinked a few times in an attempt to wake yourself up completely, but your eyes widened when they focused on the person at the door.

You nearly thought it was a scene out of a drama. He walked in, and you swore you saw a curl of wind rush past him and fuss with his hair. Everything around him went out of focus — all your attention honed in on him. He had a white t-shirt on with a loose, light blue button up draped over his shoulders. His hair had to have been dyed, with the depth of the black that coated the strands, but it was still glimmering nonetheless.

You were paying attention to everything he did as he walked towards you, so luckily for you, you caught his words even through your haze.

“Hey, are you new here?” you finally noticed that he held a big cardboard box in his arms, fingers curled around the front, with the bottom of it resting on his forearms.

You opened your mouth to answer, but before any sort of sound could pour out, Jisoo came out from the back room. You were grateful for the interruption, seeing as you weren’t sure you could function correctly just then.

“This is only her second day, Jaemin,” she said, throwing him a knowing glance from the corner of her eye and taking the box from him, “don’t scare her off.”

“Now how would I ever scare someone off?” he leaned on the end of the counter, eyes following Jisoo’s form into the back room again.

The arm that wasn’t leaning on the dark wooden counter was hanging limply from his shoulder, his whole body conveying defeat from the forward curve of his spine to the slack of his jaw.

“You nearly knocked over an entire shelf of books on your first delivery here,” yelled Jisoo, still from the back room.

“I was nervous!” he straightened his posture, his hand now flat in front of you and his arm outstretched, “Anyways I better get going.”

He looked at you as he said it and you noticed the way the glint in his eyes seemed to dance and swirl around until he completely focused on you.

“I’m Y/n, by the way,” you forced an arm out along with your words.

He took your hand gently and squeezed it, “I’m Jaemin. I don’t think I’ve ever shaken someone’s hand before. At least not someone my age.”

His tone seemed sincere, not teasing or judgemental — purely observational. He threw you a smile before walking out the door again. His light blue shirt billowing behind him when he opened the door.

“Don’t mind him,” Jisoo said, walking out into the store again with a pile of books in her hands, “he’s insanely annoying, but honestly it’s either him or the old guy who smells like mould. That smell hangs around even after he’s gone.”

Jaemin came back a few days later, no box in his arms this time and a black hoodie on his frame. He usually came once every week with a box in hand and his bright smile stretched out on his face. Some days he was there and gone within the blink of an eye and other days he hovered around the store, gabbering about anything and everything. Sometimes he came into the shop empty handed: no box full of books to deliver. Jisoo seemed surprised the first time it happened, pulling a face akin to one a girl looking at her brother who just barged into her room unannounced would wear. She said nothing of it, however, so neither did you.

One night at 9pm when you were left alone to close the store, he came rushing down the road in his company van and stumbled out onto the concrete. His hair was already messed up before the wind hit it, most likely from his running his hands through it as he so often did.

‘How does it still look so soft?’

“Please tell me I’m not too late?” he said when he was close enough to not have to yell over the wind.

“Hm?” you widened your eyes and leaned your head forward, trying to get yourself to pay attention to his words instead of the glow of his skin under the streetlights.

“If I have to take another delivery back because I missed it Mr. Yoo might kill me,” he said, his eyes held a plea in them.

“Oh,” you turned back, fiddling for the key in your bag, “Sure let me just open up again.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he said, setting the box down on the counter after refusing to let you carry it into the store.

“I opened a door Jaemin,” you said, scoffing at him from the door, “it’s nothing. Plus, it’s worth it if it means your boss won’t kill you— What are you doing?”

“I’m helping,” he was faced away from you, hands working at (aggressively) opening the package.

You huffed and set your bag down next to you before walking over to him. You peered over his shoulder, catching a whiff of his cologne. It smelled fresh but sweet. He’d already taken half the books out and piled them on the counter and one or two had fallen down onto the lower half that formed the desk at which you’d fallen asleep at least five times that week.

“You actually just look like you’re making a mess, Jaem,” you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth and looked up at him through your eyelashes.

He tried his best not to let the shy smile slither onto his face, “Then tell me where to put them.”

He turned around, obviously underestimating your proximity. You were only about five centimeters away from him — at most. He could count your eyelashes if he wanted to, and goodness knows he was tempted to. Anything to be able to look at you for a little longer.

Your heart beat sporadically in your chest, his energy making your system go haywire. You reached behind him to grab one of the books and pulled it towards your chest.

“You don’t have to help. I can do it myself,” you couldn’t find it in yourself to move, you hoped it looked like you were standing your ground and not like you were stuck in your place from the shock of being so close to him.

“I want to,” you swore his eyes glitched — or yours did — because you saw him steal a glance at your lips.

You turned around swiftly before you could think about it anymore, “Alright, it’s organised by genre but these are all just restocks so you can take a few of these to the back.”

It took less time than you thought to pack everything away and enter the stock on the system, nearly half the time it usually took you by yourself. Jaemin was a lot more helpful than you thought he would, and he was a lot stronger than he looked, too.

“Do you want a ride home?” came his voice from behind you as he reached over you to put the last book on a shelf.

“Uh, I’ll be fine by myself,” you said, walking away from the shelf to get your bag again and sling it over your shoulder.

“I need to say thanks for taking the delivery, though,” his hands were back in the pockets of his black skinny jeans. His gaze floated over to you, the bottom lid of his eyes slightly swollen with sincerity.

“You already helped me put the books away, you’ve done more than enough—”

“But, I did make you stay late. And the city’s not safe at this hour.”

You sighed in defeat and readjusted your bag. You did hate walking at night and you’d been on your feet most of the day, so perhaps it wasn’t the worst idea to accept the lift home.

He grinned when you accepted and led you over to the van and you tried not to make a comment about getting into a van with a stranger.

You’d been driving for about ten minutes when you signalled for Jaemin to pull over in front of your apartment building. You reached for the door handle to let yourself out of the car once it came to a stop, but before you could, a hand caught your upper arm.

“Y/n…” he trailed off, eyes on the bend of your elbow.

You waited a moment, “Jaemin?”

And when he didn’t answer, you waved a hand in front of his face.

“Hmm? Oh,” he blinked out of his state and looked at you once again, “Uh, never mind.”

Your brows gathered like the ruffles on a dress but you gave him a moment before he let go of your arm, “You’ve been watching too many dramas, Jaemin. What were you going to say?”

He seemed taken aback at first, your directness not something he had anticipated. But then he smiled.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out sometime,” his shyness was almost gone now, your honesty pulling it away from him.

“And? Do you still want to?”

“Yes.”

Your calm façade faltered when he handed you his phone and told you to put your number in it. His fingers brushed yours and you nearly shivered from the contact. However, you managed to hide it during your swift turn away from him.

He texted you as soon as you got into your apartment. You sat in bed for hours, hands grasping your phone. You only needed to wait a few seconds at a time for his replies. Your body hurt from being pushed into the mattress in such an awkward position, but you barely noticed it. Until it reached 3am that is. You had to force yourself to stop replying after the third time you’d sent a “goodnight, i’m actually leaving this time” text. You lay there for a while before you drifted off, thoughts of Jaemin floating through your mind.

Waking up the next morning was one of the hardest things you’d done in a while. Your eyelids felt puffy — you could feel them around your eyeballs everytime you blinked — and your neck hurt from being held up to look at your phone all night. The only reason you wound up going into work was because of one of Jaemin’s texts from last night:

“I’ll come by the bookshop after work sometime this week and we can have that date.”

“I mean hang out*! Unless you’re okay with it being a date? Bc I’d like that.”

—

None of the drinks in the convenience store looked like the one you wanted, or even close to it. Green, orange and yellow bottles lined the refrigerated shelves and you had no interest in any of them. You’d been standing at the back of the store in front of the refrigerators for a few minutes too long and at this point it was probably getting strange for the cashier. If they were even looking, that is. You realised in your short time in the retail industry that the cashiers are never looking at the customers. Most of the time they were zoned out, or on their phones and not watching the customer’s every move, though it still felt like it. You faintly heard the door swing open, but your eyes remained glued to the drinks on the other side of the glass, and your thoughts most definitely not on your surroundings.

Jaemin hadn’t been to the store in three days and he hadn’t texted you since yesterday. As much as you hated to admit it, that boy had got into your head and so, too, had insecurity. Though your rational mind tried to explain the number of reasons he hadn’t been able to come, your irrational mind seemed to be winning in thinking that he was tired of you. It was absurd that you were having this crisis in the middle of the juice aisle of a 7 Eleven at 10pm and you knew it. You also knew he probably had a busy day at work, he’d even told you last week how busy Wednesdays were for some reason, in fact he’d complained for almost ten minutes while you sat staring at the fluffy ends of his hair. But what could you have done to drive him away? Maybe it was the staring…

“This is getting painful.”

And now you were hearing his voice everywhere. It really was time for you to go home. Take a nap. Maybe it was exhaustion talking. After all, you had stayed up late talking to him last night and you had to get up extra early because you were the one opening the shop.

“Just take the pineapple one.” No, that had to be Jaemin.

You whipped around then when the realisation hit you, however, you still stumbled back a bit when you saw it was his figure standing behind you in the aisle.

“What?” Your brain was still cloudy from all the thoughts swirling around it previously, though they’d completely disappeared now that Jaemin was within your line of sight.

“Take the pineapple soda,” he said again, a giant, perfect smile on his face.

“I don’t like pineapple,” you said, gears in your head finally working again, “I was looking for—”

“Please don’t say strawberry,” he hung his shoulders when he saw the sly grin that crept its way onto your face. “Why does everyone love strawberry so much? It tastes like medicine.”

He took you by the hand and pulled you towards the door, passing the very much unconscious cashier on the way out.

“Where are you taking me to?” Your hand was limp in his, you didn’t have the confidence quite yet to be able to grip his hand back.

“That place never has strawberry soda, I’m taking you somewhere that does,” he didn’t let go of your hand for a second.

You watched him as he walked slightly ahead of you, his hair bouncing as he walked. He was wearing a ring, though you couldn’t see exactly what it was in the streetlights’ glow. It was cold against your skin despite his own skin being warm as well.

You walked for a few minutes before Jaemin’s head suddenly perked up like a puppy who’d heard its name being called.

“Do you hear music?” he asked, whipping his head around in an attempt to find where the waves of music were coming from.

“It must be from the park down that way,” you pointed past Jaemin, to the road on your right.

Jaemin grinned and pulled you with him down the empty road. The park came into view and you saw what seemed to be the remains of a festival. People were littered around the centre of the park, surrounded by cherry blossom trees. Some were gazing up at the sparkling lights tangled among the branches, and others were dancing to the music playing.

Jaemin’s grin widened and he turned to you with bright eyes and a pleading expression on his face.

“I thought we were getting soda,” you said, with a smile on your face that told him there was no way you could say ’no.’

“Just ten minutes?” Jaemin bit his bottom lip in excitement as soon as he finished his sentence, he already knew your answer.

“Fine.”

By the time you got the word out, he was already pulling you after him to the row of trees.

Once you were on the path, beautiful trees surrounding you, Jaemin slowed down and craned his neck to look up. He squeezed your hand in order to get you to look up at the trees as well. Clouds of pink petals collected around the branches, and the lights shone like stars among them. The music and faint sound of cars filled your ears and the smell of freshly cooked food floated through the air.

“I’ve never been to one of these festivals at night,” you said, turning your head to the side to look at him instead.

Your words tore his eyes away from the view above, “Really?”

You nodded your head simply and the two of you continued walking in comfortable silence. Every now and then, drops of water fell from the trees above you like rain from the clouds, most likely from the rain that had run through the city earlier in the day. The music floated around your head, it was a song you didn’t remember the name of but the beat was familiar and it caused you to nod your head to the tune. Jaemin sensed the nodding of your head and did his best to hide his smile by looking down at the paved ground below him.

His gaze was brought back to you, though, when he heard a light giggle. Jaemin’s eyes followed your line of sight and found that you were looking at two kids dancing to the music. They bounced about with no sense of the rhythm of the music, giant smiles on their faces. He felt as though he was in the ending shot of a drama, a freeze frame centred on the main character, the background out of focus and the edges of the screen twinkling. Jaemin wanted so desperately to ask you to dance. Right there. In the middle of the park. And he considered doing it, too.

Just then, your smile widened as the two children began twirling aimlessly and Jaemin couldn’t stop himself from speaking his next words, “Did you want to da-“

Luckily for him, the rain was able to stop him when it suddenly came pouring down. Both of you stood frozen for a few seconds, unsure of what to do, until you started pulling Jaemin back the way you came.

“How far is the store you wanted to go to?” you asked when Jaemin furrowed his brows at you.

“Oh, right,” he said, grabbing your hand tighter and walking in front of you, “It’s just around the corner.”

Eventually he stopped the two of you in front of a frozen yoghurt shop. It was devoid of people except for the cashier, who you could barely make out the silhouette of in the neon lights.

He pulled you in through the glass door and pointed over to the drinks glistening in the lights. The whole shop was cold, making you put your hands on your upper arms to preserve heat. You took one of the many strawberry flavoured sodas off the shelf, but you shivered at the even cooler temperature inside the refrigerator. You stood there for a few seconds, thinking before grabbing a pineapple soda from the bottom shelf and turning around to head towards the cashier.

Jaemin was already sat at one of the white tables, facing away from you. The black material of his jacket hugged him comfortably, his body nearly drowning in the fabric. It made you want to wrap your arms around him, whether it was simply to get warmth or if it was to get to hold Jaemin, you weren’t sure.

You yanked your eyes away from him and went over to the cashier, setting the two bottles down on the counter.

“You don’t have to pay,” he said from his place on a stool near the cash register. He didn’t even look up from the phone in his hands, “It’s on the house.”

You jerked your head away in surprise, “Excuse me?”

“Really, you don’t have to pay for it” Jaemin’s voice came up behind you, “that’s my cousin, he’s trying to get fired.”

You looked back and forth between the two for a second, only just seeing the resemblance.

“What? Why?” you ask, not sure who to direct the question to, but that problem was solved when the boy sitting behind the register put AirPods in his ears.

“My aunt will kill him if he quits another job,” Jaemin snickered, “He’s quit five in the last four months.”

You walked over to Jaemin as he spoke and you noticed two cups of frozen yoghurt on the table.

“That has to be a record,” you sat down and Jaemin pushed one of the cups over to you. There was a curl of lilac coloured frozen yoghurt peeking out the top of the cup.

He chuckled, “Yeah, his mom completely cussed him out. But I’ve met the manager of this place and I would want to quit too if I were him.”

It was silent for a few seconds as you dipped the plastic spoon into the swirl of frozen yoghurt and hummed.

“You just don’t like him, because he stocks strawberry flavoured soda,” you spoke around your growing smirk before opening the can and taking a sip from said soda.

“Hey, at least I’m not the one mixing soda with frozen yoghurt,” he said, pointing to the aforementioned drink with a stern look in his eyes.

You narrowed your eyes at him, seeing through his judgemental facade, “You’ve never tried it have you?” His gaze melted into one of rather tense curiosity at your actions as you raised a spoonful of the frozen yoghurt to your mouth.

“No, doesn’t it feel weird?” he watched you with his confusion pulling on his brows.

“That’s the whole point,” you said, before following the spoon of yoghurt with a sip of soda again.

He quickly scooped some frozen yoghurt from the quickly diminishing supply into his mouth and then looked at you expectantly after swallowing, “So it’s like a chaser?”

You let out a giggle, “I mean kinda, yeah. Try it, but keep the soda in your mouth for a little.”

He reached out, took his soda into his right hand, and after opening it and giving it a curious look, he drank from it. His eyes widened at the pleasant sensation of fizzing and bubbling in his mouth and he pulled his lips together as if sucking from a straw. You laughed loudly at his animated reaction and tried to hold back the ‘I told you so’ that threatened to spill past your lips.

“Wow,” his mouth widened, his jaw comically lopsided, and held the can of soda out in front of him, looking at it as if it had just spoken to him. He then looked up at you, his expression turning back into confusion, “Why are you laughing?!”

“I’ve shown this to so many people, but they’ve never reacted like you just did,” you put a hand in front of your mouth as you continued to heave out giggles.

Jaemin’s features softened as he watched your eyes and nose crinkle from your laughter. A smile etched itself onto his own face at the sight and sound of you laughing at him. Your cheeks were jutting out to make room for your smile and he was sure your laugh was the best sound he’d ever heard. He was glad he could make you laugh so hard. Glad that he had any positive effect on you at all, really.

While the two of you continued talking, the sky outside emptied itself of rain until it had none left. The sound of rain clattering to the ground outside was replaced with only the occasional drip from the roof. However, neither you nor Jaemin would admit that you’d noticed it, instead opting to stay in the bubble your laughter and conversation had made around you. That was, until a set of keys was hurtled towards Jaemin, who very nearly caught them. They landed on the floor behind him and he twisted around to pick them up.

“What the hell?” said Jaemin, throwing his words at his cousin who had just woken up.

“When you’re done, lock up for me will you?” he said as he picked up a backpack from behind the counter, “But don’t stay too long, Jaemin, if you keep looking at them like that I’m pretty sure your eyes will turn heart shaped.”

Jaemin scoffed, watching his cousin disappear out the back entrance without another word, leaving only the lights above the refrigerators on.

“Alright let’s go,” he stood up and held his hand out for you to take and you couldn’t help the shy smile that pushed its way onto your face.

After locking up, the two of you began wandering the streets of Seoul, with no particular destination in mind. Jaemin kept your hand in his as you walked. The rain had stopped, but it had left blotches of water for you to dodge everywhere you went.

The boy next to you had become completely silent, the only sounds he made being occasional hums as you spoke. So eventually, you decided to let the sounds of the city enter the space between you instead of trying to fill it with your words.

You made your way to your apartment, Jaemin still by your side. When the two of you stopped in front of your building you had the urge to lean closer to him, to close your eyes and let your lips meld together in a kiss. You wanted to be as close to him as you could in that moment, but when he only gave you a rushed ‘goodnight’ and turned away, your hopes sunk down to the floor of your heart. As you watched him walk away, you felt coldness set in for the first time since you’d met him.

—

Three days after your date with Jaemin, an old man walked into the bookstore with a delivery box in his arms. You went around the counter to take the box from him and sign for the package, frowning all the while. The man left without saying a word, but when he turned around, you caught sight of what must have been a chewed piece of gum behind his ear. Your shoulders jostled in disgust as soon as he was out of sight.

A moment later, Jisoo appeared from the backroom. “Was that Jaemin?”

“No,” you said blankly before looking up from the box you’d just cut open, “but I have met the mold guy now, and you’re right. The smell does hang around after he’s gone.”

“Jaemin better be dying,” she said, going around the counter to start entering the stock on the computer, “or I'll kill him myself for staying home.”

“I don’t think he stayed home,” your shoulders slumped as you said it, “He probably changed his shifts.”

Jisoo hummed in confusion, signalling for you to elaborate. Her eyes were still on the screen but her face was aimed towards you.

“He hasn’t talked to me since we went on that date,” you huffed, placing your hands on your hips. Lifting books all the time still hadn’t become any easier since you‘d started this job. You had, however, learned to appreciate air conditioning after the one day it didn’t work and you were reminded why no one else had turned a greenhouse into a store of some kind.

That pulled Jisoo’s eyes away from the screen, “You went on a what? And he didn’t—? Okay, no, fill me in,” she leaned her forearms on the counter.

“Well, he asked me on a date that night that he made that late delivery, then didn’t specify a day or time and then found me in a convenience store and whisked me away on a really, really lovely date and then he didn’t call or text and now he’s most likely changed shifts because he hates me,” you took a sharp breath in at the end of your rambling.

“That doesn’t sound like something Jaemin would do,” she said, “I mean the last part, the late delivery and suddenly taking you on a date sounds just like him.” She paused for a moment, eyes cast down as she thought, “Have you tried texting him?”

“Of course I have.”

“And?”

“Delivered,” you deadpanned.

The bell on the door rang behind you and you rounded the counter to take over from Jisoo while she asked the customer if they needed any help. Before she left your side though, she sent you a sad, close-mouthed smile and squeezed your arm.

That night, as soon as you’d changed into comfortable clothing and sat on your sofa to watch reruns of an old show, you picked up your phone and wandered over to your chat with Jaemin absent mindedly. As you opened it, you felt a slight pinch in your heart. Maybe being left on delivered was better.

—

You held a bucket above the lamp in the centre of the room, the plop from the drops of water entering it being washed away under the sound of the rain outside the store. You were in the process of trying to place the pile of books you had in your hand onto the table without letting the drops of water get on the lamp, when you heard the sound of the bell ringing above the door.

It had been a while — maybe almost two weeks — since you’d last seen Jaemin; since you’d last talked to him. But now he pushed his way into the shop, bringing with him a whirlwind of the weather outside.

You looked over to his form in the doorway: a box littered with giant dark spots in his hands and his hair nearly dripping from the rain despite the hood of his sopping yellow raincoat framing his face.

When he caught sight of you, your arms holding books and buckets alike and struggling with both of them, he set the box down on the ground near a bookshelf and rushed over to take the pile of books from you. He set them on the old couch and helped you move the heavy lamp in order to put the bucket in its place to catch the water.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, keeping your eyes away from him.

“No problem,” he said, putting his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

‘He has no business looking that pretty.’

“I’m sorry I haven’t been by in a while…”

You scoffed immediately, “You haven’t answered my texts in a while either.”

“I’m sorry about that too,” you can’t tell if he’s avoiding your eyes because he’s ashamed, or because he’s lying.

“Well, at least you don’t have to apologise for not reading them, because you most certainly did that,” you nearly felt bad as the words sprang out of your mouth, nearly.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” his voice was weak, so were his words.

On hearing the words drop from his lips, your anger rose like a wave at high tide.

“Oh really? Then what exactly did you mean to do, Jaemin? Because, taking someone out on a date — which, by the way, was the best date I’ve ever been on — and then leaving them outside their apartment with barely a ‘goodbye,’ and not calling or texting for a week doesn’t sound like you’re trying very hard not to hurt someone.” You took a breath, before muttering, “Not to mention the fact that you switched your shift just to avoid me.”

“Fuck, I know, okay? I’m so sorry,” he looked up at you then, eyes shining with sadness, the excited glow diminished to barely a flicker, “I know I was an asshole. It was the best night I’ve ever had and I was an idiot not to hold on to you and I’m incredibly sorry. If I could rewind and do it the right way I would.”

“Then why’d you do it, Jaem?” his shoulders slumped at the change in your voice, you were holding back tears and you’d grown so small in front of him. His arms nearly wound themselves around you of their own accord.

“Honestly?” he took a moment to collect his thoughts and arrange them into words, “I was scared. It sounds insanely cheesy and like it comes from a Taylor Swift song or something, but the way you made me feel was terrifying.”

“Great, thanks, you really know how to make someone feel better,” You rolled your eyes, a tear falling down your warm cheek in the process.

He didn’t have time to stop the airy laugh that escaped him, “I felt fearless. You made me feel like there was nothing in the world that could stop me, as long as I was with you.”

You wanted to hate him, wanted to yell that that was bullshit. You wanted to push him out the door and into the rain yourself. But, you couldn’t. You knew he was being sincere. You knew it, because that was exactly how you’d felt and it had scared you, too.

“So you ghosted me completely? Because that doesn’t sound so ‘fearless’ to me,” you tried to keep your resolve until you got the answer you needed.

“Like I said, I was an idiot. It was stupid of me to try to get rid of someone who made me feel like that. I just — I’ve fallen for you so hard and so fast that it scared me, because by the end of the night I knew I wasn’t going to stop falling any time soon, I still haven’t. And then what if I lost you? What if I did something wrong and made you hate me?” he sighed, reigning in his thoughts and emotions, “So, I ran before I could fall anymore. I tried to minimise the pain before it even started.”

“So then, why are you here now?”

“This past week has felt like the place you go to if you’re too shitty even for hell,” he took a small step towards you, “I’ve already fallen way too hard to turn back. And plus, Jisoo called me and told me you were genuinely really upset and well, there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you. So, even if it means possibly getting my heart shattered by you in the future, I’d gladly do anything to make you happy.”

“Jae—”

“Oh and Jisoo said she’d get me fired if I didn’t at least explain myself and I really need the money so— Ow!” He rubbed the spot on his bicep where you’d pinched him. He still held a smile on his face from his own joke.

He was probably the happiest you’d seen someone who’d just been pinched, and suddenly, you couldn’t hide your own smile.

“Will you forgive me then? Or at least let me make it up to you?”

“Depends on how you plan to make it up to me,” gathering yourself, you turned around to enter the back room Jisoo was always hiding in, Jaemin following you close behind.

“What about a date? I’m on my lunch break right now and I just saw this—”

You stopped in the doorway and interrupted him, “I still have to work for another four hours, text me when your shift is over.”

He nodded vigorously, “Yes, uh, okay perfect. I will! I’ll see you later tonight then?” He began backing out of the bookstore with a giant, goofy smile plastered on his face.

Just before he opened the door, you called his name, “Jaemin! Actually text me this time okay?”

“I swear I will!”

if you liked this, buy me a coffee!

taglist: @infnteen (if anyone wants to be added, send an ask or a message!)

184 notes · View notes