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stargazer-sims · 8 months

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The Art of Redemption

(part 3)

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Beth-Anne has never liked hospitals.

She guesses no one really likes them, if they're being honest. Hospitals aren't exactly the most cheerful or fun places on Earth. Sure, they're arguably places of healing, but they're also places of suffering and loss, and in her life, bad hospital experiences have outweighed good ones.

Still, she's not the sort of person to let her feelings overpower her common sense and judgment. She may not care for doctors and hospitals, but she won't deny the necessity of them, and tonight — today? — is one of those times when she has to concede the usefulness of the medical establishment.

She gets up from the hard plastic chair she'd been sitting on and moves across the room to look out the window. The view below is of the hospital parking lot, with orange-hued lights making everything glow weirdly amid the softly falling snow. When had it started snowing? Illuminated by the amber lights, the snowflakes look surreal, like something from a dream.

This whole night has been like a bad dream.

She presses her palms flat against the window. The glass is cool, and so she leans in and touches her forehead against it too. The cold soothes the ache of tiredness that's taken up residence behind her eyebrows. She thinks about the two hours of sleep she'd gotten earlier, and knows she won't get any more until the sun is high over the horizon again.

When we're safe at home, I'll sleep then.

Nikolai will be coming home with her, once they let him out of the hospital. The two of them had reached that decision fairly quickly. He didn't want to go back to his own house, which was fine with her because she wouldn't have been comfortable leaving him alone there anyway, and he said he didn't want to stay with his parents either because they wouldn't understand what he was going through.

That was fair, Beth-Anne supposed. Elena and Mikhail probably wouldn't get it. They'd no doubt be perplexed by the enormity of Nikolai's distress, and they wouldn't grasp why he needed to go to the hospital in the middle of the night if he wasn't sick. Nikolai's parents are good, kind people, but emotional intelligence is not among their strengths. They're stoic and unsentimental, and not the sort of people to whom Beth-Anne would easily entrust the care of someone as fragile as Nikolai is right now, even if he is their son.

As for Beth-Anne, she's been accused of being pragmatic too, but she likes to think her practicality is tempered by some degree of sensitivity and emotional awareness. She recognized almost straight away that Nikolai was perilously close to a breaking point and that she couldn't help him on her own, at least not in the short term.

When she first arrived at his house and saw the state he was in, she knew he'd need some professional intervention. She hadn't wanted to ambush him with the idea, though, or force him into it. Instead, for the first several minutes, she'd simply sat there in the front hallway with him, holding him and letting him cry. She didn't ask questions. She didn't talk much at all, except to murmur reassuring words into his unkempt hair, to let him know he was safe and that she'd take care of him.

When his tears finally slowed to a trickle, she gave him a hand up and guided him into the downstairs bathroom. He sat on the little wooden bench in the corner and gazed at nothing while she fetched fresh towels from the linen cupboard and started running a hot bath. She left the bathroom door open while she ran upstairs to his bedroom to grab clean, warm clothes for him, and her heart was racing with anxiety the entire time he was out of her sight even though she was gone all of two minutes.

The tub was sufficiently filled by the time she returned. She shut off the taps and then tested the temperature of the bathwater with her wrist. It was perhaps a little hotter than most people would prefer, but she'd seen Nikolai wander out of a locker room shower on more than one occasion with his skin pink from the heat, so she surmised that he'd likely find it just right.

She gestured in the direction of the tub. "There you go. It's all yours."

He stared at her blankly, as if he hadn't understood.

"Nikolai," she said gently. "Bath."

He blinked. "Oh. Right."

Despite his eventual acknowledgement, he didn't move. When Beth-Anne reminded him that he needed to undress, he plucked feebly at the hem of his t-shirt as if he had no idea how to get it off. He peered up at her with watery, pleading eyes, and she realized she would have to help him.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she said. "Lift your arms."

He did as she instructed, raising his arms as gracefully as he would if he were dancing or performing an artistic sequence on the ice. Beth-Anne couldn't articulate exactly why, but observing the fluid motion hurt her a little inside. His body knew that movement; knew it so well that maybe it didn't require conscious thought any more. She wondered if he would continue to move that way for the rest of his life, a beautiful and effortless dancer even when no one was watching.

She pulled the grungy t-shirt off him, and the spell in her mind was broken as much by the sour odour of dried sweat as it was by his bemused mumble of, "You're going to see me naked."

"I've seen naked men before," she told him, matter-of-fact. "They're nothing to get excited about. Now, come on. Shorts and underpants next, and then socks."

She steadied him as he limped the few steps from the bench to the tub and climbed awkwardly into it. He sank down into the hot water with a little noise that was half moan and half sigh. He closed his eyes. "This feels good on my leg."

"We should've put some Epsom salts in there, shouldn't we?" she said. "Do you think you can manage washing yourself?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay. Just tell me if you need anything."

"Are you going to stay in here with me?" he asked.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

She settled on the floor with her back to the tub to offer him some small measure of privacy. For the next several minutes, she did her best to relax, listening to the sloshes and drips of water behind her and trying to convince herself that everything would be all right.

Will it be, though? a little voice somewhere in the back of her mind taunted. Nothing's ever going to be the same after this.

No, it wouldn't be the same. Neither Nikolai's life nor hers could go back to the way it had been before the disastrous event at the Four Continents, but that didn't mean they wouldn't be okay. Stan is fond of saying that change isn't inherently good or bad. "Change is inevitable," he'd often tell her. "But it's just change. The goodness or badness of it comes from how you respond to it, not from the situation itself."

She trusts Stan, and over the years she's come to realize this precept, like so many other pieces of advice he's given her, is true for the most part. She's seen many times that the decisions she makes in response to something have a direct effect not only on the outcome, but on how she personally feels about it.

She's not perfect, though, and sometimes her responses to change aren't particularly rational. When she thought about Anya and the changes she'd wrought on poor Nikolai's already dramatically altered life, for instance, her brain was overtaken by anger strong enough to make her want to put her fist through a wall.

Get your mind off that, she told herself. She's terrified by her own anger, but evidently no amount of self-admonishment was enough in that particular moment to sway her from fuming as she sat there on Nikolai's bathroom floor.

What had been going through Anya's head? Had she really believed it was fine to just leave Nikolai alone? She must have recognized that he needed help, yet she'd apparently decided to abandon him anyway.

And how long had she been gone? The last time Beth-Anne was at the house had been three days ago, and all indications had pointed to Anya's presence then. Beth-Anne had noticed two sets of dishes still on the table, uncleared from breakfast, and there'd been a sleek pair of high-heeled black leather boots and a long red wool coat by the front door. The coat and boots were missing now.

It occurred to her that while she'd been upstairs in the bedroom she hadn't seen any of Anya's things there either. On top of the dresser on the left hand side, she'd spotted men's deodorant, Calvin Klein cologne, a blue mug bearing the phrase 'Number One Cat Dad', and a green camouflage glasses case she recognized as Nikolai's. The right-hand side of the dresser was conspicuously bare.

She's not coming back, Beth-Anne realized.

Why hadn't Nikolai said anything? They'd spoken on the phone every day since her previous visit, but he hadn't mentioned anything about Anya leaving. Then again, maybe there hadn’t been anything to mention. Maybe Anya had still been there until a few hours ago.

But, that wouldn't explain...

Nikolai's voice inserted itself into her musings. "Beth-Anne?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "Ready to get out?"

"Not yet," he said. "Can you help me wash my hair?"

He was perfectly capable of washing his own hair, but she obliged his request nevertheless, because she figured he probably wanted the human contact and she couldn't bring herself to deny him.

Once his hair was clean, she helped him out of the tub and handed him a towel. He dried himself off, and then she bundled him up in sweatpants, a hoodie and thick socks.

"Are you warmer now?" She picked up a wide-toothed comb from the counter next to the sink and began to run it through his damp hair. It smelled of peaches from the shampoo they'd used. Probably Anya's, she thought, not that it matters. it's not as if she's here to use it herself.

"Yeah, thanks," he said. "My knee's really hurting, though."

"What happened?" she asked. "It didn't seem that bad last time I was here."

He lowered his eyes. "I fell. On the stairs."

Her breath caught in her throat, and she momentarily stopped combing. "What? How?"

"Anya..." he began, but paused and swallowed convulsively several times. 'My crutches were upstairs. I asked Anya to bring them down before she left, but I don't know if she forgot, or if she ignored me. Going down the stairs is easy without them because I can just sort of, you know... scoot down on my bum, but going up is a lot more difficult, and..." He gave a little shrug, as if the rest of the story was self-explanatory.

It was. Beth-Anne could easily infer what had happened. He'd attempted to go upstairs to get the crutches himself, stumbled or lost his footing somehow, and fell down God alone knew how many of the fourteen steps leading to the second floor. She guessed he'd been too scared to try again, which meant he'd been restricted to the downstairs portion of the house, which in turn meant that he couldn't access his dresser or closet or the walk-in shower in the upstairs bathroom that he could get into without help.

Judging by the fact that he hadn't changed his clothes since she'd last seen him and that he’d looked and smelled like he hadn't washed in a while, Beth-Anne concluded Anya hadn't made her exit that afternoon or evening. She'd left three days ago.

Three days. Jesus-fucking-Christ.

Beth-Anne was furious, but she couldn't let her anger show on her face. The last thing she wanted was for Nikolai to jump to the wrong conclusion that she was angry with him.

"Why didn't you tell someone?" she asked.

"I thought she'd come back, and I... I didn't want to bother anyone with it."

"You're never a bother." She brushed back the lock of damp hair that had flopped across one of his eyebrows. "You could've told me. You could've called Ginger or your sister or Stan. Ginger and Natalya both would've been here in a heartbeat for you. I would have too, if only you'd asked."

"I'm sorry," he said, and his voice broke on the last syllable.

"You don't need to be sorry."

He shook his head. "I can't get anything right lately. I'm disappointing everyone, and..." The rest of the sentence was lost in tears, which he swiped at fiercely with the back of his hand.

"You're not disappointing me." She knelt so that she was on his eye level, where he was seated on the bench. "I love you, and I'm very proud of you, no matter what."

"But I can't... I mean, you know what the doctors said. I'm never going to compete again."

"Sweetheart, look at me for a second." She reached up to touch his face, carefully wiping away tears with her thumb. "That doesn't matter."

"But—"

"You matter," she said. "Everything else is secondary. Nothing that happens in our lives is going to change how I feel."

"You said you'd be with me as long as I wanted you to."

"I did, and I meant it. It's just as true now as it was when I said it the first time. Maybe even more so, actually," she told him. "You remember what you said you wanted?"

He sniffled, and then whispered, "Forever."

"Forever," she agreed. "We know what that means, don't we? You're going to be stuck with me for a long time, so try to stop worrying about it, okay?"

"Okay," he said.

She pulled some toilet paper off the roll and passed it to him so he could wipe his eyes and blow his nose. He reminded her of a little kid, with his wide eyes and messy hair, and only his fingers poking out from the cuffs of his too-long sweatshirt sleeves.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, wanting to steer the conversation into less weighty territory. "If you are, I'll make you something. Then, maybe we can go and have your knee seen to."

"At this hour?" he said.

"The emergency department is open twenty-four hours a day."

"Can you make me peanut butter toast?"

"You and your peanut butter toast." She smiled. "Of course I can make you that. Then, will you let me take you to get checked out?"

"Yeah," he acquiesced. "I don't want to go to the hospital, but I'm really uncomfortable, and the only thing we've got here is ibuprofen. Maybe if we go there, the doctors can give me something stronger."

That's one of the problems with doctors, she grumbles to herself, as she steps away from the coolness of the hospital room's window. They're far too willing to give you something stronger. Their first instinct is to fill you full of drugs, mask the pain, numb your body and your mind so you'll forget it and stop complaining. Fucking dangerous bastards.

Except, people don't forget. Not really. All those chemicals are only a temporary measure.

She goes back to her chair, but she doesn't sit. Standing next to the bed, she looks down at Nikolai who is curled on his side, sound asleep. A nurse or care assistant came in at some point and put a pillow between his knees — to help relieve pressure, they explained — and Nikolai hadn't even stirred. That was a result of the medication, of course. He isn't normally a heavy sleeper.

She studies his face, serene and untroubled in repose. The visible tension in his neck and jaw seems to have disappeared, and the tiny permanent crease between his eyebrows looks mostly smoothed out. She's glad he's resting, even if his sleep is induced by painkillers and an anti-anxiety pill.

Initially, she and Nikolai had both balked at what the emergency room doctor referred to as "mental health medications." When the doctor started talking about suicide intervention and mental health evaluations and a possible referral to a psychologist or psychiatrist. Beth-Anne could tell Nikolai immediately regretted admitting to the man that his injured leg wasn't the only thing that was bothering him.

"I think it would be in your best interest," the doctor said.

"No. I don't want that," Nikolai said, and Beth-Anne was gratified to see a spark of emotion in him that wasn't sadness or defeat. He was clinging to her hand for dear life and it was obvious to her that he was scared, but he was fighting for himself and, in her mind, that was a good sign. "I'm exhausted and in pain. I don't want to talk about my problems to a stranger, and I... I'm not going to hurt myself. I just want to sleep."

The doctor's lips thinned into a disapproving line, but then he sighed and said, "All right. I can give you something for pain, and something to help you sleep, but I would like to admit you to the hospital for observation for the next twelve to twenty-four hours. And I think we need some imaging on that knee in the morning."

In the end, Nikolai agreed, although he was clearly not happy about having to spend the rest of the night and possibly the entire next day in the hospital. He was even less happy when the doctor informed Beth-Anne that she could accompany him to his room but would then have to leave, since visitors weren't allowed to stay the night.

"She promised she wouldn't leave me," Nikolai protested. "She has to stay."

"I don't make the rules, I'm afraid," the doctor said. "Ma'am, you will have to leave, and—"

"Like hell I'm leaving," Beth-Anne cut the annoying man off. "As long as Nikolai is here, I'm here."

"I don't think—" the doctor began.

"Look," Beth-Anne gave the doctor what she hoped was her best intimidating glare. "You want to keep him for observation, right? I know how it works around here at night. They don't observe shit, because they're all too busy watching reruns of Golden Girls and doing crossword puzzles at the nurses' station while most of the patients are sleeping. So, if you really want to observe him, leave the job to someone who actually gives a fuck."

"Ma'am, I understand that you're concerned about your son, but—"

She didn't bother to correct him about her and Nikolai's relationship. He probably wouldn't have paid attention anyway.

"You're damn right about that," she said. "A hell of a lot more concerned than anybody else around here. So, go ahead. Try to make me leave if you really want to, but I'm telling you right now, if I'm not here and something happens to my boy on your watch, there's going to be major hell to pay."

The doctor was quiet for a handful of seconds, and appeared to be taking a measure of her, maybe trying to figure out whether she needed his so-called mental health medication more than Nikolai did.

At last, he said, "Very well. We'll make an exception. Just this one time."

"Thank you," Beth-Anne said. "I'm glad you're able to see it my way."

A man around Nikolai's age, outfitted in burgundy scrubs and impossibly white sneakers escorted them into the wide elevator, up to the fifth floor, and into what would be Nikolai's room for the night. It was pretty much what Beth-Anne expected; scuffed white linoleum floors, yellowish-beige walls reminiscent of the shade of cat vomit, a tall, narrow bed with a pitifully thin blanket, and a chair that looked as if it was designed specifically to make people squirm after five minutes of sitting in it.

She'd seen enough rooms like this to last her a lifetime, and the memories made her shudder. She suppressed them as quickly as she could. The last thing she needed was to start thinking about Jason or her father or grandmother. She told herself she could fall apart later. This was not the time.

A nurse arrived just as the man in the burgundy scrubs was leaving. She was young too, perhaps in her early thirties, with gorgeous dark skin and her hair done up in dozens of intricate little braids. She reminded Beth-Anne of one of her former lovers, and Beth-Anne immediately felt reassured by the other woman's presence, ridiculous as that was.

The nurse's ID badge identified her as Peace Adebayo. The woman's name was Peace. Inexplicably, Beth-Anne felt the urge to cry.

Nikolai was not nearly as impressed with the beautifully-named Peace. He whined about having to put on the hospital gown she gave him, and whined even more when she fitted a brace around his knee exactly like the one he'd had to wear after his initial injury. Then, as Peace was settling him into bed, he complained about the scratchy blanket and grumbled his speculation that they'd probably serve runny eggs and weak tea for breakfast.

"You're hard to please, Mr. Pavlenko," the nurse commented, her delivery more amused than admonishing.

"He's usually not like this," Beth-Anne said. "He's actually very sweet."

Nikolai scowled. "I'm not in the mood to be sweet right now, and a hard bed and bad food aren't going to convince me to be any sweeter."

Any other time, Beth-Anne might've scolded him for making such a fuss, but this time she was inclined to be indulgent. "I don't think there's much we can do about the bed, but maybe if we ask really nicely, Stan or Ginger will sneak you a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in the morning," She added in a stage whisper. "Don't tell the nurse."

Peace looked like she was trying not to laugh, but Nikolai appeared to have missed the humour. "Are you going to call them?" he asked. "Ginger and Stan?"

"I will," Beth-Anne said. "When the sun comes up."

"And my parents?"

"If you want me to."

"Yes, and my sister, please."

It wasn't lost on her that he hadn't included Anya in the list of people he wanted her to call. In an ideal world, it should have been Anya here at the hospital with her husband, but unfortunately, they did not live in an ideal world. It was probably just as well, Beth-Anne supposed, because she didn't think she could trust herself to be civil when it came to Nikolai's wife. In fact, she'd like nothing more than to metaphorically rip the younger woman to shreds, so perhaps it was better if Anya didn't come anywhere near.

She held Nikolai's hand while Peace gave him a shot of something in his upper arm.

"That should take effect in five to ten minutes," she said. "I need to see to other patients now, but if you need anything, you can press the call button and someone will come around."

Beth-Anne nodded and thanked her.

In reality, it'd taken less than five minutes for whatever had been in Peace's needle to take effect. Nikolai was asleep before Beth-Anne even had the chance to tell him goodnight, and then she was left alone with her thoughts.

Never a good thing, being left alone with my thoughts.

She sat in the plastic chair for nearly an hour, holding Nikolai's hand while he slept because even in sleep his fingers were locked around hers. It was only when he rolled over that he let go of her, freeing her to get up and pace the room.

That's what she's doing again now, walking back and forth from the bed to the window. She glances at the time display on her fitness tracker. The luminescent numbers declare that it's 4:37 a.m.

Only another hour, and then I can call Stan.

A notoriously early riser, Stan wouldn't mind a call from her at half-past five in the morning. It certainly won't be the first time she's phoned him at that hour, and she suspects it won't be the last.

Stan isn't a hugger, but the sound of his voice often feels like a hug to her. The lyrical cadence of his Czech-accented English and his calm, confident tone feel like the emotional equivalent of a lullaby and a blanket and the knowledge of being warm and safe indoors while a winter storm rages outside. She needs that right now, because despite how composed she may seem on the outside, she's a stormy mess on the inside. She needs to be anchored, and if anyone can do that, it's Stan Kovac.

From the day they'd met, he'd been an anchor for her in both big and small ways, and he'd never given up on her, even when it seemed almost everyone else had.

It was Stan who rescued her, saved her from herself during the darkest period of her life. After Jason died, after her accident, after she'd ruined her skating career and everything was going so horribly wrong, Stan was the one who was there for her. He'd listened to her, advocated for her, and applied enough tough love to push her off the path of self-destruction she'd been on and back to the straight-and-narrow.

He'd even encouraged her to reconcile with her mother, although that was one subject on which he would never persuade her to agree. That bitch had wanted to pull the plug on her own son, and Beth-Anne vowed she would never forgive her for that.

The fact that Jason had passed anyway was not the point. He'd deserved the chance to fight until he couldn't fight any more, and the idea that his only parent didn't want to grant him that chance, however slim it might've been, was something Beth-Anne could not overlook. Perhaps if she'd wanted to show him mercy and kindness, Beth-Anne would've understood, but the twisted expression of disgust on Claudia Jones's face had held no compassion in it.

"The sooner you pull the plug, the sooner he goes to hell," Claudia had said, and Beth-Anne hated her. She'd never hated anyone before that, and the white-hot rage that rose like a tidal wave inside her made her wish she didn't hate Claudia either. That kind of emotion was too powerful to control.

So, instead of controlling it, she tried to dull it with alcohol. That worked for a short time, until she got blind drunk one afternoon and rode her bicycle off a bridge.

It was a small country footbridge with a flimsy rope railing that wasn't enough to impede the trajectory of Beth-Anne and her bike. To this day, she's not sure if she really meant to do it. She can't remember if riding over the edge had been her plan all along, or if she'd changed her mind at the last second but was too late to stop herself.

The drop to the stream below the bridge wasn't far, perhaps three metres, but the water in the stream was low from lack of rain that summer, and she'd been going at speed. She landed on the rocks, and the world around her went mercifully black.

When she woke up, she was in the hospital and Stan was with her. He barely left her side for the first few days, and when he did have to go, he made sure somebody else she trusted was there. His wife, or one of Beth-Anne's friends from the rink.

He never called Claudia, because he knew.

Beth-Anne returns to her chair, and this time she lowers herself into it instead of turning and going back to the window. There's a twinge of discomfort in her hip. Sitting down might not make it better, but more walking will definitely make it worse, so she resolves to rest for a while.

Nikolai shifts position in his sleep. He whimpers a little and stretches out his hand reflexively. Beth-Anne catches it in hers.

"I'm here," she says, even though she's fairly certain he's too out of it to really hear her.

Nikolai, I swear I won't let what happened to me happen to you.

Hatred, bitterness, anger, grief, guilt, fear... they're all a toxin to the soul if they're not kept in check. Even one of them can destroy a person from the inside if it grows too strong. And she should know. They've all tried to poison her.

Beth-Anne understands that she can't choose anything for Nikolai, can't tell him what to think or how to feel, but one thing she can do is support him. She can remind him that he doesn't have to tackle any problem on his own, and maybe if he doesn't lose sight of that, he won't stray down the same treacherous road that she did.

#writing #the art of redemption #theartofredemption #beth-anne jones #nikolai pavlenko #tw suicide mention #tw alcoholism mention #tw mental health #tw hospital #tw injury #stargazersims

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red-goat · 2 years

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Idk “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” If it is not too late

*puts on angst writter glasses* This is for my coffee shop AU cuz I still have brain rot. TW: Separation anxiety

...

You fiddle with your fingers as you observe them loading the truck. Bag after bag of coffee beans make the truck's level lower a little. You stand on the alley's door trying your best to hide your pout, altho you're pretty sure they've already noticed since they keep reassuring you they'll be back by nightime, still you feel too uneasy to let go. The weather is still pretty humid, it has been raining nonstop latetly and you can't help it but feel a little hopeless as they finish loading the back of the truck.

"B-but why do both of you have to go? C-can't one of you stay here... with me?" Anxiety is an ugly monster and you know too well for your own good. That gut wretching feeling in your stomach which burns and cuts your peace of mind with paranoia and cruel whispers at the back of your mind.

"Oh don't worry! We've already told you, you don't have to open the shop for the day if you don't want to, ok? I don't want you to stress yourself so unesessarely, not good at all. Besides, we both have to be there to sign the paperwork, that's what bussines partners are all about!" Moon hands you over the keys giving you a reasuring smile "Sun is right, you shouldn't get so worked up... there are leftovers if you don't feel like cooking today also... just take it easy ok? You'll do fine without us".

Your eyes widen... that prick in your stomach aches harsher, the emptiness in your gut screams in retaliation to his words, your nervousness is quite noticeable now. "W-what do you m-mean? W... Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?!" Your panic comes out at your last sentance.

You know that's not what the mean to say, you know it's just your brain messing with you... but you can't help it, ever since you arrived here, to your new found home, you've never been left alone by your own, one of them has always kept you company and so the thought of being alone for the first time in a while is simply... overwhelming.

"I-I'm sorry... I'm just..." you clutch the keys closer to you, fidgeting with the little mug shaped keychain. They both look at you in silence for moment, unsure of what to say, but Moon as always, is pretty perceptive. He calls your name softly and sweetly, a tone he usually reserves for when he soothes you to sleep.

You look up at them teary eyed, and for the very first time when they place their hand on your shoulders, you don't flinch. Your eyes widen a bit, you know they want to hug you, but they don't dare to without your explicit permission. So in a fit of pain, you launch yourself into their arms, finally giving in your most deepest cravings, their comfort. Your nose is filled with the escence of coffee and worn clothes. They debate for a moment about returning the hug but seeing you cling to them like this, they decide to do it.

The traces they draw on your skin makes your worries melt like butter. This... this is exactly what you been yearning for... Them. "Promise you'll text me whenever you can... please?" They remain silent, well Sun does, as Moon suddlently bursts out in a warm laughter "S-sorry! It's just- Hahahha- So cute..." You look up at him from his shoulder. "It's so cute when you think we wouldn't be doing that already... hehe... I mean- Who else am I gonna send memes to? Sun? He doesn't even get half of them!" You know he most likely is using this as an excuse to free some tension, but you don't mind, knowing this is just Moon wanting you to feel better, Sun then plays along "Mayyybe if someone bothered to explain them to me I would at least smile!" Sun retorts, to which Moons anly response is to whisper "susus amogus" and that's enough for you both to start snicker. "You two are weird!" Sun playfully states as you and Moon explode wheezing in laughter. You decide to tease him a bit feeling all your previous worries fade away.

"You looove us and you know it~" he huffs and sighs in defeat. "Can't argue with that, dang it!" You jest sticking out your tounge and giving him a little wink, still not letting go of the comfort of their embrace.

...

Oh angst turned into fluff, my secret weapon >:3

#hope you like <3 #rusty star café AU #coffee shop au #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #sun/moon fnaf #fnaf moon #sthu kabra #fnafsb #sun/moon x reader

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marvellousimagines · 2 years

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Wrote this imagine based on my own anxiety surrounding fireworks. While I can and do enjoy them, I get particularly jumpy when I’m stuck at home on the 4th of July, like today.

You felt bad. Not only was it the 4th of July, but it was also your boyfriend’s birthday. Ever since Tony found out that Steve was actually born on the same day as American Independence Day, he insisted on throwing a grand birthday-slash-holiday celebration. This was your first 4th of July with the Avengers, and you didn’t want to dampen anyone’s fun with how badly fireworks tended to spike your anxiety.

So you mingled with the others briefly for dinner, but as soon as the sun started to dip and Tony started to bring out some of the smaller fireworks to set off while waiting for the big show, you slipped away into your room.

You tried to drown out the noises from outside, but it seemed that nothing quite worked - music, video games, videos - you still jumped whenever there was a particularly loud bang or a flash of light that seemed to go off a little too close to the building for comfort.

You were wound up so tightly that when there was a knock on your door, you about jumped out of your skin. “Y/N, you okay? You’re missing out on some of the fun,” Steve’s voice came through the door.

“‘M fine,” you replied, trying to sound casual but missing the mark. “Don’t worry about me, you go enjoy your party.”

“I’m coming in,” Steve said. When there was no protest from you, he opened the door, frowning in concern as he saw you, wrapped up tight in a blanket despite the comfortable temperature. “Are you sure-”

Before he could finish the question, another loud firework went off and you flinched, and suddenly the situation seemed to click for Steve. He quickly walked over, settling on your bed next to you and wrapping a comforting arm around you, blanket and all, pulling you into his side. “You don’t like fireworks, do you?” he asked, tone gentle.

You shook your head. “The loud noise is bad for my anxiety, plus… I’ve experienced some close calls as a kid with fireworks misfiring. I’m afraid of someone getting burnt or something catching fire,” you admitted.

Steve rubbed your arm in a soothing gesture, and you leaned into him. You flinched again as you heard another loud bang, though your reaction wasn’t quite as bad with Steve now comforting you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Steve asked, his voice gentle, not sounding angry or upset in the least.

“You deserve a fun birthday, and I knew how much everyone else looked forward to the party,” you replied. “I didn’t want my anxiety to put a damper on any of your fun. It’s just one night, I can deal with it.”

Steve, however, seemed to be contemplating something. “Wait here, I’ll be back in a sec,” he said, before getting up and leaving your room before you could say anything.

The next few minutes were surprisingly quiet, and you hoped Steve didn’t just cancel the fireworks show for your sake. However, he did finally return as promised, carrying a pair of large over-ear headphones.

“Tony’s about to start the big fireworks show. Bruce said you could borrow his noise-canceling headphones,” Steve explained, offering them to you.

You smiled, putting the headphones over your ears and connecting them to your phone for music, though not turning the music on just yet.

“I also asked Tony to move the setup for his show further down the driveway, away from the building. So, if you’re comfortable watching fireworks from a distance, with less loud noise, I’d love for you to join us.” Steve gave you a warm smile, holding his hand out to you.

You, however, bypassed his hand, instead jumping up to wrap him in a hug, still holding your blanket over your shoulders as you did so. “You are so sweet, thank you,” you told him. “I’ll gladly come out and enjoy the show, as long as you stay next to me. The blanket’s nice, but nothing helps soothe the anxiety quite like your arms.”

Steve gave a small chuckle. “Deal,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he walked you outside the Avengers Facility.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #Avengers #avengers imagine #happy birthday captain america #unspecified gender imagines

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ohokimdumb · 2 years

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Dabi x Reader (Sweet Bundle of Fluff) 🐇🌈💞

Request by Anonymous: ok so my rabbit died a couple days ago and I m a crying mess so could I request Dabi x reader where he tries to cheer y/n up after he finds out about their pet? please and thank you

Word Count: 980

A/N: I’m so sorry for your loss! :( You and your lil bunny are in my thoughts and I hope this piece helps with the coping process. ♥ Thank you for the request and I know for a fact that good fluffy boi or girl had the best life ever ♥!♥!

Sitting on the ground in the middle of the living room with a coloring book in your lap, you felt...empty. Why does time go by so fast? It’s not fair, and never will be. You thought coloring would help with the grief of losing your fluffy friend. But, as you stare down at the coloring pages of wild animals and cottage houses, it doesn’t feel like a good idea at all.

A long sigh escapes your lips as you look around the room, trying to force the tears back. It’s no use. If someone is to ever plunge their fist through your chest, this is what it feels like; pure agony. You’re familiar with loss, but you’re never prepared when it happens.

Unable to finish the half-colored page, you close the coloring book. Flopping backwards leaning against the wall, you think of all the memories you have with your furry little friend. It sooths your mind remembering the many play sessions you had together. Having to chase them all around the LOV hideout to make sure they didn’t cause any trouble. The memories manage to get a chuckle from you.

Maybe a little nap will help the pain. You think to yourself, shutting your eyes.

“Y/n, wake up.” Dabi gently shakes you by the shoulder. Your eyes flutter open, Dabi appearing in front of you with a concerned look on his face. Looking around the room, it was just the two of you; alone in the dark, empty living room.

“Hey...” Quietly responding you sit yourself up against the wall once again. Being able to sleep against the wall seems to be a new talent of yours. It’s definitely something you don’t recommend.

“How long have you been sleeping here?” He asks, cupping your cheek lovingly. His touch immediately calms your anxiety.

You shrug, looking at the time on your phone.

“Mmm, it’s 5:30 PM, now...so about three hours?” You calculate. Dabi raises an eyebrow in amazement.

“Still struggling with their passing?” Dabi takes hold of both your hands, rubbing the palms with his thumbs in an attempt to ease your stress. You nod and avoid making eye contact; you hate when people see you cry.

Dabi takes a hold of your hands and helps you stand up, pulling you close to his chest. You finally gaze up at him and he has a gentle smile painted on his face. Seeing someone so bruised and battered, having the ability to still smile gave you hope that thing will get better. If Dabi is able to smile after all he’s been through, than you can as well.

Returning a smile, Dabi pinches your cheeks playfully.

“The weather is perfect outside, and there happens to be no chaos going on around the city. Wanna pretend we’re normal people and go to the lake?” He asks, releasing your cheek. Your smile grows bigger at the though of some quality time with Dabi; it’s been awhile since the two of you have been able to go out and enjoy life.

You giggle and blissfully jump around in excitement, sprinting up to your bedroom to get ready.

------------------ The Lake

“Don’t forget your bathing suit, unless you want to get wet in your jeans!” Dabi shouts up the stairs.

The lake shimmered underneath the bright sun. The two of you think it’s best to hang around the least occupied part of the lake to avoid being noticed. Looking around, waiting for Dabi to return with the towels he forgot in the car, you hear the subtle sound of bushes being rustled from behind you. The lake is surrounded by trees and shrubbery; the sound can be from any direction.

Attempting to keep a look out in every direction you can, there’s still a spot you happen to miss. Something grabs you from behind and you quickly turn around to defend yourself. It’s only until you see Dabi in front of you without his shirt on, you realize you aren’t in any danger.

“Boo!” Dabi playfully growls and tackles you into the pool.

“Ah!” You exclaim as the two of you splash into the clear-watered lake. You and Dabi rise to the surface, somehow you’re already wrapped in his tight embrace. Completely wrapping yourself around his toned body, you bury your face into the warm crook of his scarred neck.

“Can we stay like this for a little while?” You whisper, trying to fight back tears. At this point, it’s inevitable to hold yourself together. When it comes to Dabi, it doesn’t take much for your walls to break down. Dabi caresses your back with his fingertips, he remembers all your sweet spots.

“Of course.” Dabi responds with a gentle tone of voice as he keeps the two of you afloat. The quiet chirping of wild birds, and the gentle movement of water mixed with Dabi’s kind-natured touch manages to keep your sadness at bay.

“You know, some things can’t last forever, and that really sucks.” Dabi breaks the comforting silence. He knows you don’t want to make conversation at the moment, but he’s close to the feeling of grief.

Like a ghost looming over his shoulders from another world...a long lost friend from beyond.

“We happen to last longer than most, but what matters are the memories you create. Good or bad, they matter and will stick with you forever. You gave them the best years of their life, no one could do better.” Dabi’s loving embrace tightens.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. We can just listen to the silence...sometimes that’s what helps the most.” Dabi takes in your sweet scent of perfume and lightly rocks you in the warm lake. This is what you’ve needed this entire time...reassurance that things will get better overtime. It feels like it will take ages to heal, but the pain of grief won’t last forever.

#dabi x you #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #dabi imagines #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha imagine #dabi #ohokimdumb #toya todoroki #toya todoroki imagine #toya todoroki imagines

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alumort · 10 months

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just finished a commission! had lots of fun <3

if you want a writing comm lmk hehe

ao3

It was dark outside, and not even turning on lights in his home helped soothe his soul. Not even trying to design some colorful clothes helped, the usually comforting snip snip of his scissors doing nothing but make him feel more and more uneasy as minutes went by. Teruya couldn’t even focus on the task at hand, and his cuts and sewing weren’t as perfect as he expected them to be; it made him frustrated, yet he tried to go on for his sanity’s sake.

His heart ached– a familiar combination of loneliness and grief kept his soul alert, his muscles tensing up at every sound, every flicker of light or even the familiar howling of the town’s dogs. It didn’t make anything better and at one point, Teruya dropped the cloth he had been handling with so much care, and left it on the table with an annoyed huff coming from his mouth; he couldn’t focus at all. His body was too tense, his mind was running with too many possible outcomes of that night… it would be better to pick up that idea once he felt a bit better.

He was alone at home, with nothing but his projects to keep him company; and it wasn't like he could just talk with his best friends in the world, it was Friday, f or heavens’ sake! Haru and Satsuki were probably hanging out together back at his old city, playing around, eating at a McKing or something, and… maybe they had already found a new friend to replace him, one who wouldn't be as anxious as a toddler when his dad left on a business trip. Someone who wasn’t afraid of being on his own for more than an hour or two.

It wasn't like his father had never left him for a while in order to work; in the past, Teruya would just spend the night at Haru's place, playing and doing anything they could to avoid his anxiety from taking over him– but that wasn't an option anymore, and it hadn’t been for months. His friend lived countless hours away now in the city, and his dad now seemed him fit to be on his own now that he was finally sixteen years old. The merchant wasn't too fond of the idea, yet it was true that he wasn't a child anymore; he would prove to his parent that he could deal with anything!

… or that's what he had thought earlier, when the sun could still be seen high in the sky, no darkness in sight. Being alone was something he despised with all of his soul but there was something worse; being on his own in the middle of the night… It would be a miracle if Teruya managed to close his eyes for longer than a couple of seconds. His body felt cold from head to toe, palms sweaty by sheer nervousness; but he shouldn’t react like that. Logically, he knew that nothing bad would happen to him, yet his heart refused to listen to his mind, and so the boy looked at every little thing as if an unknown enemy would suddenly appear from the shadows of his room. It was exhausting, and… tarnation , there was no way to keep himself at ease, was it?

If only his dad was there to tell him how he felt. No– he was almost an adult, for heaven’s sake! He should be able to handle some loneliness with no problem!

Teruya decided to grab his phone; perhaps a video or two of Toktik would calm him down, seeing some cute animals or funny memes… he managed to let out a couple of chuckles, yet it still wasn’t enough to soothe that feeling of dread that plagued his chest. He looked at the screen without thinking at anything at all, only snapping out of his small trance as he saw a message coming from his dad.

‘Good night Teru Xoxo’ was all it said, and the boy let out a soft sigh. And then, his eyes sparkled as an idea crossed his mind– perhaps he could text someone! That way, distance wouldn’t be a hindrance for him to speak with his friends.

But Haru and Satsuki were offline… However, checking between his contacts he realized that one of the people he had got to know in Utsuroshima was online– Nikei, the boy that Teruya had more or less fallen in love with in a short time. They had quickly become good friends, and hung out together alongside his friend group every now and then… he was a sweet person, and it wasn’t a surprise that Teruya took a liking to him. Haru and Satsuki knew everything about him by now, listening to him talk during their calls as if there was no distance at all between the three.

Maybe talking with him would help. It took the merchant a couple of minutes to gather the courage to text a simple ‘hey, you busy?’, and a little smile appeared on his face at seeing an almost immediate response. Nikei was always like that, doing his best to listen and answer to everyone he cared for.

‘not rlly, and u?’ was what his friend had typed. It wasn’t anything too impressive or deep, yet Teruya couldn’t help it but grin as they began texting a bit more.

‘nah. just wanted to say hi. dad’s out and i don’t really have much 2 do u.u’

This time, it took a couple of minutes for Nikei to reply, yet Teruya’s joy did nothing but increase.

‘same tbh. want to hang out? we could walk around or smt, don’t rlly have anything important to do rn’

That was enough for his soul to feel calmer, soothed, and in no time the two were arranged a time and place for their meeting– it probably wasn’t a good idea to be outside so late with such low temperatures, but it would be worth it for as long as they could just… goof around with each other. Or so the merchant believed.

He grabbed a couple of sweaters and his thickest scarf, for Winters near the sea were both humid and cold, so Teruya would need anything to avoid frostbite at that hour. He left his house, making sure everything was closed before going on his way.

Utsuroshima was empty at that time, and only the sea could be heard– a couple of streetlights were on but otherwise, the daunting darkness made his throat feel tied up. Shaky breaths left his lips, forming small clouds of steam as the air left from his mouth. That was the place they had arranged to meet in, close enough to his house so anxiety wouldn’t affect him too much yet also near the town center.

‘Where r u?? :<’ Teruya texted his friend, his leg bouncing with sheer nervousness. And then, a pair of hands gently covered his gaze, and familiar giggles soon were heard. Soothing enough for him to do the same.

“Hey, guess who I am?” a very ‘unknown’ voice said, a higher pitch than what the merchant had been expecting.

“Nikei, I know it’s you!” Teruya replied with laughter in his voice, and then his eyes were free once again. Nikei grinned at him, also covered to the head with countless coats. “I was worried you weren’t going to come…”

“I wouldn’t do that, don’t worry. So… where do you want to go?”

That would be a little hard; being in such a small town, pretty much everything was closed by that time, except places meant only for adults like the rival bars close to the beach. They weren’t going to be able to sneak in, plus Teruya wanted to be somewhere quieter for the night… had it been another time, they probably would have just chatted on an Otori Mart, which his dad owned and sometimes let him design stuff for.

“Gosh, I don’t know– you can pick. I’m sure you know of a good place,” he replied, and his friend gave a thumbs up and began walking towards a place Teruya didn’t know yet. Although, it wasn’t as if he did much outside of school and going out with his small yet warm friend group in the place, apart from sometimes visiting the beach after class.

Who would say that a small place would have such intricate paths? Concrete turned into a mixture of sand and earth as they went on for a couple of minutes with nothing but nature in front of their eyes, until a small playground appeared far away– once they approached it, Teruya could tell that it seemed old, almost abandoned, with an unavoidable corrosion made by the salty wind leaving a bigger mark than whatever graffiti other townsfolk left around. The boy wondered who might have drawn such… inappropriate imagery on a place meant for children, but he decided to not think too much of it.

“We’re here. Welcome to… Utsuroshima Square! Where all your dreams become reality,” Nikei exclaimed, doing funny movements with his arms as he presented the toys that kids used to play with who knows how long ago– he was passionate when narrating the history of such a small place, and Teruya thought it was adorable.

But well, anything Nikei did was cool in his eyes no matter what. Somehow the gelid coldness of Winter was forgotten as the other boy spoke, trying to make sure that he was still listening and paying attention. It contrasted against the warmth of his chest, yet… he missed his dad, however childish that might be. Teruya was quietly following the journalist, until in the end they sat down on the swings, facing each other without saying much at first.

“You know, I used to come here all the time when I was a kid. Lost a baby tooth falling from the slide once,” Nikei said out of a sudden, trying to fill the silence between the two once again. Teruya let out a little smile, but it faded as quickly as it had appeared… his friend squinted his eyes at that. “Teruya, you know you can tell me whatever you want. We’re friends! I can tell something’s not right…”

For a moment there was an uncomfortable quietness between the two, and Teruya played with the game as he analyzed whether to be honest or just keep up the act– what would Nikei say if he admitted to missing his dad? He was already in high school and, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud, it would be too embarrassing to say that to none other than his crush… who was also a good friend, one of the people who welcomed him to this unknown new town with open arms apart from Iroha, Emma and Hajime. And he had said it himself…

Well. It wasn’t like the journalist would go spreading his secrets as if they were one of his articles– Nikei would never do that to him.

“It’s… do you promise to not laugh at me?” he mumbled, and it took him a bit to go on even if his friend had nodded at him. “I told you dad’s gone, remember? And… gosh, I miss him so much. I used to go to Haru’s house when he was gone, and now I… can’t just do that! I hate being on my own.”

His first instinct was to look at the ground– Teruya had told him that his mom had died a long time ago, but he had never admitted that he pretty much was terrified of not being accompanied by someone. Monophobia, some people called it, but he knew it only as anxiety.

There was silence and for a moment, Teruya imagined the laughs that his companion would pronounce, echoing in the back of his mind as the wind moved his hair… it was only that, though. His brain was playing games on him as it usually did, for Nikei had nothing but softness in his visible lavender eye, the other one covered by his own hair.

“You’ve always been with your dad, of course you’d miss him,” Nikei exclaimed, always so sweet with his friend. Teruya felt a couple of tears threatening to fall down from his eyes, but he moved his head to the sides and went on.

“Oh, and– um, I really appreciate what you and the others have done with me. Welcoming me in your group and all. But…” the merchant mumbled, letting out a long, long sigh afterwards. “I miss Haru and Satsuki so much, you know? We haven’t seen each other since we last said goodbye, apart from our calls… I’m afraid they might’ve replaced me, or gotten bored of me, or–”

“Teruya, hey… they’re your best friends! They’re not going to replace you– I’m sure they miss you as much as you miss them. Don’t say that, okay?”

For a moment, the merchant looked away, knowing that what Nikei said was true; it would take a bit to convince his heart of the truth, but for now he would try to listen. He looked away before replying.

“... gosh, I’m talking so much, I’m so sorry! I just needed to vent a bit… you cheered me up,” Teruya said in the end, letting out a little smile as he talked, deciding to remain quiet afterwards.

Hearing nothing but honesty coming from his friend made Nikei’s eyes soften up, at seeing how much he trusted him in order to vent like that... He moved the earth with his feet, gaze on the ground as he decided to fill the silence with his words, avoiding his friend’s eyes while talking.

“... I know what it's like. Being in a new, unknown place you still can’t call ‘home’... I don’t think you know, but– my parents abandoned me when I was younger,” the journalist admitted, letting out a soft sigh afterwards. From then, it was like an unstoppable flood came out of his mouth, and Teruya remained quiet to listen patiently; it was the least he could do for him. “Mom’s cousin took me in, but– well. He’s not the, uh, best person out there… I never know what he’ll try to do to me, so I must be as quiet as possible when I’m at home. And when I dated my ex, he– he became worse.”

His voice broke in the end, his throat hurting by the effort. There was some kind of weight on his shoulders, on his neck, that felt lighter somehow with everything he said out loud. Tears threatened to escape from his eyes, but he fought them– he was supposed to be strong, and now his feelings were taking over.

Seeing that Teruya smiled at him once again was enough to help Nikei continue talking, playing with his fingers in the meanwhile.

“Sometimes, I feel completely alone, like nobody would ever care about what I say. But I have my friends, and I have you, Teruya,” the black haired boy said, a grin slowly making its way on his face. “I tend to lose myself in my articles and papers to not think about life. You guys help– and, I don’t think you know. I had a boyfriend once– Mikado, the ex I mentioned. I loved him with my whole heart, but he just… cheated on me with someone from his class. I guess that’s also why I’m wary of new people– somehow, I could open myself to you. And I’m glad for that, because we’re friends now.”

“Oh, darn it… Nikei, I’m so sorry to hear about that– everything. I can see why you’re so passionate with journalism, just like I am with designing,” Teruya exclaimed, and his companion just nodded, looking away.

“I– I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but… I just feel like I could tell you anything, you know?”

And then, a sudden silence arose after his words. Teruya looked at his friend once again with curiosity, noticing that Nikei now seemed a bit nervous; he wasn’t used to talking about what was in his heart, and now the merchant knew exactly why.

After placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to help, his friend found the strength to continue for a couple of seconds.

“... fuck. I’m here to cheer you up, and I’m just telling you about myself and my issues,” the black haired boy exclaimed, his gaze falling on the ground. “I’m so sorry, Teruya.”

“Gosh, you don’t need to be! You listened to me, so it’s only fair I do the same with you! I’m… I’m happy you trust me enough to tell me this,” Teruya replied with a smile decorating his face, slightly leaning towards his friend without even noticing it.

He didn't tend to hear Nikei talk about his life with him, just with the rest of their friend group and even then the journalist tended to be pretty vague; he was too used to keeping everything deep inside of his chest, suffering on his own, for being ignored was common in his eyes unless it was about what he wrote for the school’s newspaper. For him to open up to Teruya like that… their friendship might have been pretty new, yet there was a strong bond between the two boys.

His heartbeats were loud against the silent night, deafening– instinct took over and without even realizing it, the merchant found himself getting even closer to his friend, to his lips… Nikei didn’t move at all, not knowing what to do, yet allowing him to steal a short kiss from him. Neither of them moved for a couple of seconds, in which Teruya’s cheeks heated up even with the gentle and cold breezes of the sea hitting them both.

Crap. He let go of his friend as quickly as he had kissed him, ignoring the need of his soul to continue the small gesture.

“Aw, shucks! I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked before–” Teruya started to say, nervously looking away, but he was interrupted by a pair of lips meeting his own. His eyes widened, and it was like time had suddenly stopped around him.

His chest felt warm, his face felt warm; he felt like he could melt at any moment!

“I love you, Teruya,” the journalist admitted with a soft voice after letting go, a reddish tint decorating his cheeks. Teruya felt himself being hugged and allowed it without complaint, shifting his weight on the swing so neither of them would fall.

They had kissed! Twice! And Nikei had– gosh , it was the best day of his life!

He felt safe in his arms, as Nikei played with his hair without saying much for a time that seemed eternal– or at least, Teruya wished it was like that, so their small moment together would never end. But his companion spoke up, and he tiredly raised his head to look at him.

“You’re falling asleep… Do you want to go to your house?” was all Nikei asked in whispers, making sure to not startle the other boy too much. Teruya stirred up and nodded, getting up from his swing without saying anything at all; his tiredness was more obvious now, and the journalist couldn’t help it but let out a small smile at him.

Joyful chuckles filled the air as the two walked together through the town, fingers entwined and a reddish hue on their cheeks. Suddenly the path didn’t seem so daunting– Teruya wasn't alone anymore, and he had kissed his crush! Who loved him, too! Perhaps being left behind by his dad had been the best thing to ever happen to him in a while, leaving him at ease in a still unfamiliar town by the seaside.

As they arrived at Teruya's home, exhaustion soon took its place in their bodies; after a couple of long yawns, he ended up inviting Nikei to spend the night at his place, in a sleepover of sorts. The fear of being on his own was still strong, albeit it would be kept in check for as long as the merchant had company– knowing this, his friend (Were they boyfriends now?) ended up agreeing, too tired to walk back to his house.

No words were needed between the two as a comfortable silence accompanied them; exchanging another pair of gentle kisses, the boy laid side by side on Teruya's bed, holding hands under the warmth blanket and never letting go of the other. They wouldn't be alone anymore, and their relationship would flourish from that point onwards, with no need to hide in that small town– that was one point for Utsuroshima, one good thing. Change still made Teruya, yet for once he was glad that they had to leave the city… he had a lot of things to tell Haru and Satsuki once he woke up!

But that's for another story. For now they would sleep under the darkness of the night and the soft light of the stars, their breathing evening as they started to dream of mundane things; maybe about the future, or about each other– only time would tell.

#danganronpa another #super danganronpa another #teruya otori #nikei yomiuri #teruya x nikei

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scumbagg · 3 years

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NSFT/18+

Space Ghost Coast to Coast

A/N: I purely wrote this as Bell instead of Y/N since I can’t bring myself to write Y/N fics 😂

I recently finished MW2 and needed some Ghost food to heal my broken heart after the traumatic betrayal I witnessed. Also maybe a bit of DadPrice! giving a lecture. Here goes nothing..

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Bell

Word count: 3252

Warnings: smut, injury (gunshot), blood, swearing.

“Eyes up, scouts patrolling up ahead.”

Price’s voice in your earpiece came through at the exact moment the two men appeared in your line of vision 40 metres in front of you.

“Dropped him.”

Aiming your sniper, the guard trailing slightly behind fell to the ground before you’d even had time to place your finger on the trigger. Taking aim at the other man’s head, your rifle made almost no sound as you took him out a second later.

“Nice shot. Move up.”

“Thanks.” You whispered back. You turned back for a moment to the place you knew Price was laying hidden almost 90 metres behind you.

“Move, Bell. We won’t have much time before more patrols come along and find those bodies.” Soap’s whispered voice now, also in your earpiece - but you knew he was somewhere to the right of you hidden in the long grass. You crawled quietly through the grass. You heard the brush whispering slightly either side of you as the bodies of Soap and Ghost moved up to flank with you.

“Hold up, two more tangoes patrolling the fence line.” Price murmured a moment later. “Take ‘em out, or let ‘em move on. Your call Bell”

“No stragglers.” You whispered back. You heard the pops from Ghost’s and Soap’s suppressed guns as they took out the two guards ahead.

“Good call.” Price confirmed. “Can’t see anymore inbound. You’re in the clear. House up ahead is empty. We’ll regroup inside.”

“Roger.”

Standing up, you scanned the area out of precaution for more enemies. Satisfied, you nodded to the other two men to move up. The three of you passed the fence line and had almost made it to the back door of the house when it happened.

You heard it before you felt it. The sound of a pistol being fired in your direction had you spinning to face the direction it came from, when suddenly you felt white hot pain erupt in your left shoulder. Dropping to the ground, the sound was over almost as quickly as it started, but your eyesight went black as you squeezed your eyes shut in pain and gripped your shoulder as blood poured through your fingers.

“Bell!” The scream came from within your earpiece at the same time Ghost shouted your name, making your ear throb in pain. You hardly noticed with the burning coming from your shoulder, but you still flinched.

“What the fuck was that?!” You gritted through your teeth.

“One of the guards back there wasn’t as dead as we thought. He fucking is now. Don’t worry darlin’, you’re gonna be alright.” Ghost pried your hand away from your shoulder and replace them with his own. “Soap, get me the medi-kit from your pack, quick!”

“Darlin’?!” Soap laughed as he handed Ghost the pack. Frowning, he looked down at the two of you.

“He’s taking the piss.. it’s an inside joke.. had to be there.” You said through gritted teeth, glaring into Ghost’s glasses. Ghost said nothing as he worked on stopping the bleeding, but the minimal supplies in the kit weren’t doing much.

“Fuck!” Ghost said in a panicked voice. You were starting to feel drowsy, and the sight of all the blood was making you queasy. You could feel your head starting to spin, threatening to send you into unconsciousness.

“Ghost, she’s gonna be fine. Look, the bullet went straight through.” Soap said calmly, pointing at the bullet lodged in the brick in the wall just behind where you’d been standing. “It’s a clean wound, it’ll just need stitches.”

“Fine. We’ve gotta get her back ASAP. I’ll take her, you and Price grab the intel.”

“No, I’ll take her.” Price came into view, rifle slung over his back. “You’re the one that’s better with technology, you’ll get the intel quicker from the computer. Someone’s bound to have heard those gunshots, we’re sure to have company soon. C’mon Bell.” Price hoisted you up under your uninjured arm, replacing Ghost’s hands with one of his. Stumbling, you gripped Price’s arm for support. Looking over at Ghost, you noticed his eyes tighten behind his sunglasses, but he nodded in assent.

“Let’s get moving,” Price commanded, nodding at the other two. “Soap, Ghost, I’ll send for another chopper to pick you up. See you boys at home.”

*****

Fourteen stitches and a bandaged shoulder later, the infirmary staff finally let you leave. Pushing open the exit door to the outside, you found Price leaning against a jeep waiting for you.

“What are you still doing here?” You asked suspiciously.

“Thought I’d give you a ride home. It’s a bit of a far walk and I assumed you’d be too hopped up on pain killers to drive yourself.” He replied, opening the passenger door courteously.

“Oh… thanks.” You said, taken aback by the display of kindness. It’s not that Captain Price was unkind; he’d just never shown any outward kindness outside of the field. You were surprised that he’d thought to even come back for you.

The two of you drove in silence for a few moments, before the question you were burning to ask broke its way out of your control.

“Did the other two make it back okay?” You tried to sound casual, but your insides were turning with worry.

“Yeah, they got back about an hour ago, no issues.” Price answered, concentrating on the road.

“And the intel?”

‘Acquired.” Price gruffed.

“Hmm, very good.” You stared straight ahead, watching the sun settle in the west. This was the first time in a non-formal environment you’d ever spent a moment alone with the Captain, and you weren’t sure how to make small talk with him. You sat in silence as Price drove you through the city. You wondered how he knew where you lived when it occurred to you that being a member of his team, he’d know where everyone lived. Not that you spent much time in your own house these nights. You thought back to a few nights ago...

The sound of Price clearing his throat awkwardly pulled you out of your reverie. Looking over at him, you watched as he shifted in his seat and waited for him to speak.

“What is it?”

Price sighed. “Look, I really don’t want to have this conversation. But I’ve told him the same thing I’m telling you now. This is one of the best task forces I’ve ever worked with, and I don’t want anything fucking that up. Understood?”

You felt your calm composure slip through the cracks as your eyes widened in panic. You glanced over to see him still staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a hard line.

“Wait, you know about-”

“Of course I fucking know.” Price snapped, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. Shit, so maybe he did know where you actually slept after all. “I know everything that goes on in my team. Look,” he said calmly. “I don’t give a fuck what you get up to in your spare time. It’s like I told him, I’m not going to report it. It’s not been an issue yet. Just don’t let it affect you on the job.”

“I haven’t! I’ve been so careful about trying to keep it professional while we’re on a mission!” Your heart raced at the fact you had been caught out.

“I know you have, Bell. But that man is head over heels for you, in case you hadn’t realised. I’m concerned he’ll let his feelings for you get in the way of the job. Look at today – he’s the best man on our team for tech, and he was willing to throw the whole job, just out of pure panic for you.” Price sighed again. “I’m not sending either of you away. I just needed to remind you of the main reason we are here. If you two can’t handle that, I’ll be forced to find someone to take your place on the team.”

“Does anyone else know?” You asked quietly.

“I don’t think so, but if Simon continues on the way he was today, I doubt it’ll be long until Soap catches on.” Price grimaced, then looked over at you. “Darlin’,” he grinned.

“Ughhh,” you groaned as Price pulled up outside what you now realised wasn’t your house. “I can’t believe he let that slip out.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, careful not to move too much that it pulled at your stitches. Opening your door, you looked back at Price. “Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it.”

Price smiled and nodded in response. “Don’t be too harsh on him about today,” he said, looking over your shoulder as you heard the front door open behind you. You closed the door and waved as the jeep drove away.

*****

All your anxiety from the conversation with Price suddenly turned to irritation as you turned to face the man in the doorway. You stormed towards him, your uninjured shoulder hitting his lower abdomen as you barged your way past him into the hallway.

“Bell-” he began.

“Get out of my way, Simon. I need a fucking shower.” You snapped irritably.

“Here, let me help-”

“No.”

“Bell!” Simon pleaded.

“What the fuck was that today?!” You snarled. “You might as well just fucking announce to the whole place that we’re together!” You began climbing the stairs towards the bathroom, but stopped halfway there. Staying angry wasn’t one of your strong suits, and seeing him standing pleadingly in the hallway washed away your irritation. “Look,” you sighed heavily, coming back down the stairs so you were eye level with him. “I just had the lecture of a lifetime from Price. I can’t lose what we have here Simon, and he warned if we couldn’t keep it professional out there, then one of us would be replaced.” You stepped towards him, reaching for him in both apology and forgiveness. You placed a hand on his masked jaw, your thumb stroking along his hard cheekbone.

“I’m sorry for today,” he said apologetically, leaning his cheek into your hand. “Seeing you injured and in pain, all that blood… I panicked.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed. Smiling up at him, you smacked his arm playfully. “You’re silly, you know that right. Even I knew it wasn’t bad, and you’ve seen way more injuries than I have. I can’t imagine how you would’ve been if Soap hadn’t been there to pull your head in.”

Simon wrapped his arm around your head, resting his hand at the base of your skull and pulled you in for a hug. You lifted your other arm to place it around his waist and winced. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“How are you feeling anyway, darlin’?” He stepped back to survey you.

“Rubbish. These pain killers are doing their job, but I feel disgusting. I really do need a shower.” You looked over your shoulder towards the bathroom. “I uh... might need a hand actually,” you said awkwardly, wondering how you were going to manage without getting your stitches wet. Surprisingly, this was your first major injury, given your line of work.

“C’mon,” he said, pulling you towards the bathroom.

Simon turned on the shower and helped you undress, helping remove your shoes, pants and underwear, aware of your fresh wound as he carefully pulled the shirt from your arms and over your head. His eyes filled with remorse as they fell on your injured shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he whispered. “That guy that shot you… that’s the one I took down. I didn’t know he wasn’t dead.” He looked away sadly.

“Hey,” you grabbed his chin gently and turned his head so he was looking you squarely in the eyes. “It’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself, no one else does. I’m fine.”

“But what if it had been worse? What if that bullet had landed here?” Simon touched your forehead. “Or here,” he said, touching the base of your throat. “What if-”

“Don’t think about it,” you said firmly, pulling his hand from your neck. “Simon, I said I’m fine.” Still holding his hand, you pulled it up to your lips. “There is one thing I am annoyed about, though,” you smirked as you kissed his fingers.

Simon looked at you quizzically. “Why am I the only one naked right now? Surely you’re not gonna shower in your clothes.” You stepped inside the shower, letting the water run over your head, careful to avoid letting it hit your left shoulder.

Simon’s eyes squinted, and you knew he was smirking behind his mask as he removed the rest of his gear and dumped it on the ground next to yours. As always, his mask was the very last thing he removed. No matter how comfortable Simon was with you, and no matter how many times you’d seen him without it, there were certain insecurities that were too deeply ingrained. The last piece of Ghost removed, and only Simon stood in front of you.

Simon stepped in the large shower with you. Grabbing a face washer and pouring body wash on it, he gently helped scrub off the dried blood that had made its way down your torso. He shampooed, conditioned and brushed your hair, knowing you couldn’t lift your arm to wash any dried blood that had knotted in there. Once you were clean, you grabbed the other face wash and carefully, with your good arm, moved it across his chest and abdomen. He watched as you gently made circles on his large shoulders and down his muscular arms.

You wrapped your good arm around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. “Don’t be too long,” you smiled as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel.

Walking to the dresser, you pulled out some clothes and attempted to get dressed but you couldn’t pull the shirt over your head. You sighed, and sat on the bed resignedly, still in your towel. You heard the shower stop running, and Simon stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Here,” you beckoned, reaching for him. Simon came to stand in front of you, standing in between your legs. You leaned forward and kissed his stomach, feeling the warm skin beneath your lips raise with goose bumps. You tugged on his arm, pulling him down towards the ground. He knelt, still between your legs, and leaned forward to bury his face in your neck. Almost a whole foot of height difference between the two of you, yet you were the only person who could bring Simon Riley to his knees.

Your good arm snaked its way around his broad back, tracing his spine, down to his hips to the edge of the towel. You heard Simon’s breath quicken, still lightly kissing your neck, when your fingers made their way around to the front of his towel and tugged it loose, letting it fall to the floor.

You lightly brushed your fingers down his stomach and over his navel, until you reached the base of his shaft. You felt Simon’s breath hitch as you gripped it in both hands.

“Bell..” he groaned.

“Mmm?”

He brought his mouth round to yours, kissing you deeply. His mouth trailed back along your jaw to your ear. “Why am I the only one that’s naked?” You felt his smirk against your cheek as he repeated your line back to you.

“Maybe you should fix that,” you whispered back.

Simon wasted no time in removing your towel and throwing it across the other side of the room. You laid back on the bed as he trailed kisses down your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and thumbing circles around the other. Your hands threaded themselves through his thick hair as you massaged his head. Simon’s hands followed his head as he made his way down your stomach and down your navel, his hands gliding over your hips and massaging up and down your thighs.

You threw your head back and moaned in pleasure as he buried his face between your legs, his mouth sucking and licking at your clit. You gasped as you felt one of Simon’s fingers enter you, then two, and he slowly picked up a rhythm as his mouth and fingers worked in synch. You could feel your walls begin to tighten as you got closer to your orgasm.

“Stop,” you gasped. Simon looked up quickly.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked worriedly.

“Not at all,” you tugged at his arm so he pulled himself so he was hovered above you. “I need you in me right now,” you purred as you pulled his head down, his lips crashing to meet yours.

You reached down and grabbed his length firmly, stroking it. Simon’s eyes glazed over with lust as he moved his head back to your neck. Guiding him, you positioned him at your entrance.

“You sure?” he asked huskily. You knew he was teasing. He knew exactly what you wanted.

“Yes,” you breathed.

You both groaned with pleasure as he entered you, filling and stretching you out. Simon set a slow pace at first, until he was sure you had adjusted to him, then quickened the pace. His hands moved to your waist as he slammed into you, holding you in place so you didn’t move around too much. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and you gripped his forearms, lost in pleasure.

Simon leaned forward and your legs dropped to his waist. He took one of your breasts in his mouth. You moaned in ecstasy as he hit the sweet spot inside of you.

“Simon.. I think I’m gonna-” you gasped.

Still inside of you, Simon pulled you on top of him as he rolled onto his back. “Not yet, you’re not.”

“Owwwww!” You winced as the action pulled tightly at your left shoulder.

“Fuck! Sorry! You okay?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” you moaned as you picked up the pace again. You brought your legs either side of his waist and pulled his hands to your breasts as you lowered yourself onto him, taking him completely. Now in control, you could feel every movement and every angle as you took him deep inside you.

Simon gripped your breasts firmly as he felt your walls begin to tighten. “C’mon, darlin’,” he groaned. “I’m not far off, myself.”

“I’m gonna come,” you whined. You rocked your hips back and forth and threw your head back as your walls clenched around him. You rode your orgasm out, and heard Simon groan as his own orgasm erupted into you. You fell on top of him, exhausted and satisfied.

Simon gently rolled you off him and onto the bed as he got up to get some water. Your eyes followed him, appreciating his finely sculpted body as he walked to the sink in the ensuite, grabbing a glass off the nightstand and filling it with water. He met your eyes as he walked back to the bed.

“What?” He asked bashfully as he handed you the water, aware of his nakedness.

“You’re beautiful,” you smiled drowsily, taking the glass.

Simon chuckled. “Are you sure you’re okay? They must be some strong drugs they gave you.”

“Hmmm... never better” you sighed as you handed the water back to him. Despite what you said, sleep was already pulling you under.

Simon leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x f reader #ghost x fem bell #ghost modern warfare

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lokiskitten · 3 years

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Loki Laufeyson | a little miracle

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : After getting banned from Asgard, Loki found shelter in your home. You two easily grew closer as time passed, engaging in a long term relationship without you ever being able to carry his child due to the none-matching genetics. During Christmas Eve, you and the demigod stumble upon an abandoned baby on the steps of your porch.

warnings : mention of nudity and child abandon.

The 24th of December marked a rather cold and ruthless evening. The sun had set low hours ago, which allowed you and your long term love interest to spend a delightful night whilst having dinner nowhere far from the soothing sound and warmth which erupted from the working chimney. Even if he often criticized midgardian food, Loki had made an effort to worship your roasted chicken which in fact resembled what he used to eat every day whenever he still was allowed on the lands of Asgard. The man would often tell you about the nice adventures he had had the pleasure to experience, whilst also verbally exploring the many beauties that carried his homeland.

Of course, you never seemed to get tired of hearing his stories. His arrival in your life had offered you well needed company, especially as you lived far from the city; in a little country house within a low populated village. Besides, he was also the most interesting and intelligent man you ever got to meet. No matter how many bad actions you knew he had committed, your heart still managed to hold a special place for Loki within your chest. Often, you would reassure his anxiety by claiming that everyone deserves another chance. Long story short : you felt overly grateful that he was now here to keep you safe and sound.

After dinner, the two of you had moved to the couch before the chimney, easily getting rid of your clothes and engaging in a never ending cuddle- the type of snuggles that you liked the best : skin to skin. Feeling his warmth against yours made the fire from the chimney appear irrelevant, and the sweet caresses he offered your sensitive body felt better than any silk sheets anyone could ever dream to possess. These kind of moments were never about sex, but always about sharing a special and dedicated contact with the man you had fallen in love with. Surely the two of you often allowed yourselves to spend some sexually pleasurable time together, but those kind of cuddles overcame any of these private intercourses.

His lips collided against yours in a smooth manner, both of your respective eyelids remaining closed as his naked body rested between your legs. You never grew tired of those motions, your organism constantly begging for more and reacting to any touch coming from your partner. His hips rocked against yours just so slightly, the dry humping being part of the overall loving mannerisms. And right now, it was enough to satisfy you. However, an unwelcome detail managed to flash itself back into your mind, pulling you out of the romantic moment you were attempting to spend with Loki. Opening your eyes, you allowed your palms to rest against his shoulders in order to stop him through his motions.

“I forgot to turn off the candle on the porch..” you murmured, earning a tired groan coming from the large man. “I won’t be long.” You affirmed after you had laid a loving kiss on his cheek, watching as the demigod sat up in order to allow you to shift off the couch. Your hand reached out for your sweater and panties, putting both of those pieces of clothing back on before lazily making your way until the front door. Scratching the back of your neck, you finally pushed open the door of your house before taking a step forward in order to be able to put your hand on the candle. However, your foot stumbled upon a foreign mass, easily leading you to step back out of surprise as unhappy cries began to escape the layers of dirty drapes.

Your hand landed against your chest, orbs starring down at the scary sight that you wish wasn’t what you thought it was. However, it undeniably was and remained an abandoned baby resting on your porch. Your first reflex was to seek for any silhouette lurking within the darkness of the snowy night, eyes squinting as you attempted to distinguish the potential parents of this child. “Hello?!” Fear echoed in your voice, though you soon gave up on trying to figure out who had left this child here as you couldn’t tell for how long this poor baby had been laying on your doorstep- which allowed you to jump to the conclusion that those gruesome individuals were probably gone and far by now.

You looked back down at the newborn who now only allowed a few tired whimpers to escape their lips, body crouching down so that your hands would be able to remove the layer of sheet which covered their face. Upon being revealed to the light, a new whine echoed throughout your ears, your empathetic self feeling sorrow invade your organism. You picked up the baby with a lot of care, face still diverted towards their grimacing one right before Loki finally made an apparition behind your silhouette. “What’s taking your so long-“ he began to ask, the smile on his face fading away as soon as you turned around and revealed the child to his bare eyes.

“Where did you find this?” He asked on a tensed tone, visibly not appearing too happy about seeing you carry a foreign toddler. “I found it on our porch. Someone must’ve left him there...” you admitted on a sorrowful tone, looking down at the little piece of sunshine who clearly didn’t deserve to be in the situation they were in. Your empathetic self couldn’t even believe that people still did those kind of things nowadays. It disgusted you to even think of it. “Put it back.” Loki demanded, earning a confused yet absolutely irritated stare coming from you. “Are you mental? I told you I found it right here. Who am I supposed to return this child to?” You answered sadly, feeling more than shocked by your partner’s inappropriate and rude behavior.

Loki looked down at the baby’s face, earning a few gasps from the newborn who kept their eyes closed. No form of care nor empathy seemed to show on the grown man’s face- which once again was a detail that left you speechless. “We can’t leave it there. Poor thing would freeze to death.” You affirmed whilst gently rocking the baby in order to make sure it would stay calm and sleepy. Loki remained silent for a couple of seconds, his mind probably trying to find a good response to your previous statement. “What if.. what if we kept it?” You suddenly offered, looking up at your lover who simply scoffed as a response. “Keep it? This isn’t a fairytail. You can’t just keep a child like this.” Loki answered harshly. Currently, if both of your arms haven’t been required to carry the toddler, the demigod would’ve probably earned a slap across his face.

“You’ll bring him to the authorities tomorrow. Now let’s get inside.” Loki ordered, turning back around as he began to take a few steps forward in order to join the warmth of the house. However, you stopped in front of the doorstep. “Why are you acting like this? This isn’t like you.” You accused sadly, your arms still patiently rocking the child. The truth was, this situation simply reminded Loki of his own past- how Odin had found him abandoned on a rock on Jotunheim. He had suffered due to his new environment mixing up with who he truly was, and didn’t wish to put anyone through the same bother he once had to go through. “Everyone deserves a chance.” You suddenly affirmed, causing the demigod to stop through his track. This statement struck him right through his heart.

Your eyes anxiously stared at his back, waiting for an answer coming from your partner who had decided to behave so harshly. Loki finally ended up turning around, green eyes making contact with yours as he slowly began to make his way back to you. Face to his silence, your anxious self couldn’t help but add a few decisive words. “It’s the child we’ve always wanted. It’s a.. miracle.” You affirmed sadly, feeling tears fill up your orbs at the thought of finally being able to look after a child of your own. Of course, Loki knew how much this topic meant to you, and that even if he had never planned to have children of his own before stumbling upon you and your desires. But in that child, he couldn’t help but see himself.

Patiently, the demigod accepted to take a new look down at the baby who now had their eyes open, a gentle whimper escaping their lips upon making eye contact with the adult male. Loki took the initiative to take the toddler out of your arms, carrying it in his own limbs without ever speaking a word as he made his way towards the chimney. The demigod had began to gently rock the toddler, looking down at them and allowing the baby to toy with his long strands of black locks whilst he patiently sang to them in that beautiful Asgardian language of his. He kept a low tone, making sure not to scare the baby without ever breaking the eye contact he had engaged with the toddler.

Leaning against the entrance of the living room, you finally allowed yourself to smile out of relief face to this soothing sight. This was everything you’ve ever wanted : seeing Loki carry a child, and that even if it wasn’t necessarily yours. No matter where this baby came from, this house would now become his home.

AHHH thank you so much for 1000 followers!!!!! I couldn’t feel more grateful. For the occasion, I had to write something for you guys. It’s different from what y’all probably have the habit to read, but I hope it was enjoyable to read still! Love you and take care!!! Special tag for @seasexnsun who turned out to be my 1000th follower!

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

marmalade taffy

Helmut Zemo smut & feels. Soft!Dom Zemo, non-superhero!AU, Zemo being the weird uncle of college!Maximoff twins. This was written on a whim so if someone signs up to beta-read, I will shower you with affection and reminders to drink water. The Reader is addressed as "you" and is not described - race/age/body type neutral. The language I used for Sokovian is actually Serbian. Word count 2,8k.

Fun fact: I have mild synesthesia. Emotions/feelings and some people have an assigned color (and sometimes smell) for me. That's how the name of the fic was born. This fic feels like the colors of marmalade and taffy, look them up. This fic is dedicated to my lovely @slothspaghettiwrites , the shining beacon in my misty, rocky beach. (You're a periwinkle for me, by the way. I thought you might ask.)

When you first see him all you do is raise an eyebrow. His sleek, well-maintained vintage car stands out almost grotesquely amongst the various sedans and mom vans on the campus and you can see the glint of his wristwatch even from afar. Wanda's and Pietro's sheepish smirk only makes the situation worse - the girl's attire obviously screams "liberal arts" and her twin brother doesn't seem to have anything better to wear than tracksuits.

The man behind the wheel is unfazed. He is calm and collected in that European way, not conceited, just waiting. For what? You don't know. His eyes trail over you but he doesn't smile, simply gives a tiny polite nod. If you hadn't had extensive conversations about cultural differences with Wanda, you'd say he was extremely rude.

Shy, quiet Wanda, who's eyes lit up seeing her favorite not-actually-uncle. In a surprising dash of energetic agility, she hopped right into the car, her numerous scarves a bright flash of saturation against the campus grayscale. You giggle and wave at the departing car, snorting when Wanda's hand reaches over to briefly honk the horn, causing the driver to swerve the tiniest bit, his eyes trained on you in the rearview mirror.

He comes and goes often. Almost always in a different perfectly restored vintage car, mostly with the same polite mask of bored contentment. You know he's royalty in his home country and can't help but wonder how frivolously the twins act around him - no, free. He gives all the appearance of a silent, strict man.

You're proven wrong rather quickly. Freshman year left behind you, you and Wanda decide to ditch the dorms for an apartment - she finds one rather quickly and it's just you two in it even though it is ridiculously huge and the rent amount she requests is equally ridiculously small. Not the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you pretend nothing is out of the ordinary and buy yourself a new pair of shoes.

Helmut - Wanda finally formally had introduced you two - doesn't come by often, however the visits are always... Eventful. He's not at all what it seemed to be; in the quiet of your apartment, a witty, incredibly clever man resurfaces from under the stoic façade. The Slav in him easily lets him consume alarming quantities of alcohol together with Pietro, who opted to stay in the dorms with his idiotic football team, and - you couldn't believe your eyes at the time - dorkily dad-dance squat in the middle of your living room, unfazed by your and Wanda's cackling.

The way Helmut is absolutely unbothered by the audience and the laughter, pale face flushed from the wine and a little smirk stretching his thin lips into expression almost catlike. The maroon turtleneck stretches nicely across his chest, as thinly as your lip that you worry between your teeth.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. You shrug.

"Got something in your eye, no?" He teases playfully and you shrug again, taking another swig of your nice, European beer.

There are more gatherings, more parties and quite a few rides in his car, when the wind blows your hair in all directions possible and intermingles it with Wanda's as you giggle and squeal in the back seat. Helmut always indulges you two; the word 'no' simply does not exist in that man's vocabulary. He insists politely but firmly on a dinner with all three of them on your birthday and the gifts he brings make your eyes pop out and your face heat.

"A woman like you makes any sensible man want to shower you with the finest gifts," Helmut's voice is quiet and his accent is thick and somehow, it makes it all that harder to refuse. He smiles like usual - tiny and a little secretive, as he pecks your cheek, filling the air around you with the smell of his cologne. It makes your mouth water and your fingers clench helplessly around the half a dozen of silk paper-wrapped boxes.

The summer rolls in and it's hot and humid and finally you don't have to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn or classes or the annoying boys who can barely take a no for an answer. The invitation to Helmut's villa doesn't come as a surprise; Wanda had been riled up over it since early May and Pietro and his whole damn football team were equally as thrilled.

You pack flowy dresses, daisy dukes and swimsuits. The expensive jewelry and handbag Helmut had gifted you, too, since the villa is surrounded by a whole neighborhood meant solely for the rich and famous. Wanda is absolutely unbothered by her own bohemian chic and you quietly envy her; the longer you get to know her, the more you realise of how much actually she does not give a fuck about anything besides her paintings and sculptures.

It's admirable, really, because she is talented. And Helmut knows it, too, having had collected and kept every single work Wanda had made, showing it off in the various rooms of his two-story mansion. The abstract fits in well and is a great conversation topic for him and his equally important friends. There's an endless stream of them in the first days and Wanda isn't overtly happy, choosing to run away to laze around the pool with you more often than not.

Helmut's friends stop at the glass wall between the inner side of the house and the pool to stare at you two, too, causing something dark and tense flash across his features. There always had been a sort of tangy obscurity in him, you've noticed, but not nearly enough for you to grow concerned. It added the bittersweetness, the flavour and consistency to the modest man.

Although calling him modest might have been a mistake. The moment you can't shake off one of his friends after a polite chit-chat seems to never end, Wanda nowhere in sight, dread and unease digging their sharp, spindly fingers in the soft flesh behind your rib cage, Helmut is suddenly there, arm wrapped almost possessively around your waist.

"Draga mea, Wanda is looking for you. She says it's urgent," He stares the man down with the eyes of a vulture. "I believe we haven't been properly introduced," Helmut seems to not realize he's still clutching you in a grasp of steel as the man opposite you rumbles out his name, few syllables you'd forgotten seconds after he spoke them for the first time.

"Baron Helmut Zemo," the fingers brush and squeeze once, gently, over the valley of your waist before letting go. You miss the rest of their peacocking, walking away with a fight and fire inside of your hammering heart. Anxiety and longing and confusion mix and blend, combining into a cocktail that has you beelining for the bar like a woman parched.

The next day you're sleeping off the hangover, first in your bed and then by the pool - Wanda had run off into town for one thing or another, and knowing her, she'd be back home at the crack of dawn. It was blissful peace, the soothing balm for your troubled heart and your aching head.

"Hungover?" Helmut's voice was quiet and a little bit teasing. None of the Eastern Europeans had ever showed the signs of having any ill effects from the alcohol they drunk, unlike you.

You stretched, too blissed out to care about the skimpy strings and straps of your bikini, basking in the gentle morning sun. "Mmm, not anymore," a swim in the cold pool had done wonders.

Your soft pink float rocked as Helmut's footsteps quieted, giving way to a short splash and the sound of his breathing somewhere in your space. Just as you cracked open your eyes, he reached out a hand to steady himself next to you. "I wanted to apologize for the situation yesterday. That man was stepping out of line. He is not welcome in my home anymore."

You stare at him and then you snort. The blunt was he usually speaks is so easy, it flows oh so effortlessly. No mind games, just honesty. You want to pay him back in kind. "Don't worry, Helmut. I just had a bit too much to drink," that was the truth. Any other time and you wouldn't have hesitated to unapologetically steer clear of any creep. Heat and bubbly don't mix and that was your own mistake.

"No, printsesa," the man in front of you let loose some of the delicious darkness, eyes growing stormy, hand gently resting over yours. "Some men are fools, they are nothing but animals. You deserve to feel safe, especially in my home." His lips stretched into a smile, water dripping down his jaw and making tiny circles form in the azure of the pool.

"I can't argue with that," you replied, catching the stray liquid and following the trails it made with your eyes. His forehead, dripping down over his eyes, making Helmut blink the stray drops away until they landed on his lips, trickling down his chin.

You swallowed, opting to dip your toes into the cool pool water before you could make a fool of yourself. The water splashed towards him, making a mischievous grin grace his usually serious face, as me made a half-hearted attempt to splash back weakly, making the water sizzle on your sun-kissed skin. Never the one to back down from a challenge, you knitted your eyebrows in mock offense, eagerly letting the water wash over you as you abandoned the float in favour of creating waves with your whole body.

The temperature contrast was delicious and Helmut's laugh even more so as it echoed in between the high walls of the building surrounding the pool. The sun was nearly at its peak, shining over your head in a beacon of heat that almost matched the one inside of you, the one that had blossomed there months ago and finally grew into a steady smolder, shooting sparks whenever you were around the baron.

It was hot and wet, the same feeling chasing you two when you finally kissed. His hand firmly planted on the side of your neck, his nose softly brushing against the underside of your jaw, Helmut was in no rush to taste you, to savour every millimeter of your sun-kissed skin. The man left you with your fingertips trembling and heart scrambling for purchase somewhere in the deepest pits of your belly.

"What are you so hungry for, mmm?" Helmut's voice rumbled next to the shell of your ear; you could barely focus, skin singing underwater, where he held onto you like a lifeline. "You have hungry eyes, ljubavi, tell me what it is and I'll give it to you," your bodies pressed flush against each other, his eyelashes flittering against your cheek.

"You," the maximum capacity for your brain was one-syllable words and you used it sparingly, failing to suppress a gasp when Helmut's mouth latched around a particularly sensitive spot right under your jawline.

Teeth scraped over it before he soothed the sting with his tongue. "All the things in the world, I could give them to you. And yet..." He sounded almost disappointed. Perplexed, just as you were at the strange admission. "A woman like you would have men fighting for your attention yet you give it to me so freely," he murmured softly, capturing your lips in a slow, fluid kiss once more. "I will make sure you have everything you could ever want."

Helmut's touch grew bolder as he steered the two of you towards the shallow end of the pool. The taste of him was intoxicating, like the sweetest, most alluring poison you'd ever tasted: you knew that once you had one small bit, you'd be addicted, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His words were clever and his mouth even more, making the short stumble upstairs last hours.

A wall, baroque tapestry, marked with the wetness of the pool water, where you allowed yourself to be pressed against as he leaned into you with the entirety of his broad frame, domineering the kiss effortlessly.

You panted as your back hit the soft, million-thread count, unmade sheets of the baron's bed, staring up into his eyes and finding your own reflection in his pupils, blown wide with lust. The tiny smirk was back but now his unexpressive face was marred by a gleem, accentuating his moist, puffy lips you'd licked into and bitten in a heated frenzy.

"Beautiful, printsesa," he stated with quiet firmness, leaning over into you to unclasp and toss away the upper part of the bikini. The bottoms followed suit, flung carelessly somewhere. His hands ran over your as it sang, every tiniest nerve hypersensitive, coming alive with a fervor borne of months of longing, complimented by the summer heat and cool waters.

"Helmut," your voice wavered, flowed on the syllables as his clever, clever mouth trailed hot down your chest, briefly submerging each nipple into the sear of it. Goosebumps rose over your exposed body, highlighting a trail for him, a trail he followed eagerly. Kisses were candy sweet and marshmallow soft.

Hot breath at the apex of your thighs had you mewling and arching into it, having abandoned all shame, and Helmut found it amusing. The petite chuckle made an appearance, his fingertips ghosting over the part of your lower lips; he was as amused by your impatience as he was enthralled by the youthfulness of the gesture. "Shh, ljubavi, I will make it feel better," his accent as thick as clover honey and just as saccharine.

The first movements were tentative, brief and so light, the demanding moan slipped out of your mouth along with a growl of frustration. You felt continuous chuckling, slight stubble rasping along the sides your thighs; you felt him pick up pace and steady his hot hands on your hips as you attempted to trash against the overwhelming stimulation your pussy was receiving.

His moans, loud and wet, drove you closer to the edge like a drunk drove a Ferrari; Helmut's skill was unparalleled but it lacked precision as he lost himself in the moment just as much as you.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm- I'm so close," you managed to grunt out before the crescendo hit, eyes rolling back into your skull as the influx of more, more, more hit every nerve ending in your body. You could do little more than rest your legs on his shoulders as the noble man, the quiet storm lapped up every drop of your release.

He made the inside of you weak.

In seconds, Helmut was back on top of you, grinding his arousal into you desperately, almost begging for it and all you could do was let your body respond, mimic your lover, clench around nothing just as you felt him twitch.

"Tell me you're mine," he demanded hooking one of your legs over his hip, eyes boring into yours with everything in them plain on display. It was a terrifying thing: as if your heart had suddenly grown legs, stood up and walked out into the bare, wide world, open for all to see. "Ti moa, skaži eto," his native tongue made his voice even more hoarse, you couldn't resist anymore.

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," you chanted the words like a prayer, hoping he'd be merciful - and he is. No, there's only a hidden tenderness in his hands as he drives into your with increasing force that shakes you and makes your core quiver, igniting your flesh once again like the color red; it's messy and it's sloppy and you're barely aware of Helmut muttering something into the crook of your neck as you feel yourself clench down on him with a choked moan.

"Fuck," hearing him, the polite composed man, bite the end of his own orgasm into a curse made a wave of magenta hot rush travel through your body at lightning speed, his cock pulsating and coating you, claiming you from inside out so sweetly you couldn't resist a shallow gasp into his cheek, a gasp he mirrored as his own oversensitive flesh was once more assaulted by your combined lust.

The tide of his breathing was high; both of you spent yet still drunk on the newfound sense of togetherness. It was clear as a summer's day that in your arms laid a man who'd once lost something important and you - you were a someone who's never had anything of significance and perhaps, this time each other's arms would let you both keep whatever it was that you missed.

#helmut zemo x y/n #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo smut #baron zemo x you #baron zemo x y/n #zemo smut #zemo x reader #zemo x you #bun writes #baron zemo #zemo #i am KNEELING

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onlyswan · 3 years

Text

adrenaline rush | jjk

→ pairing: jungkook x f!reader

→ genre: fluff, established relationship

→ warnings: emotional trauma / manipulation / abuse, gaslighting, alcohol abuse / dependence, depression, anxiety, nightmare, mention of physical assault bc jk is angry . pls lmk if i missed anything

→ word count: 3.2k

↳ gold rush | love rush | sugar rush | adrenaline rush | zest rush

summary: you don’t need to pretend, and jungkook’s face looks bewitching beneath the sun.

note: i tried to proofread but it’s difficult IM SO SORRY breaks down . i’m honestly more on writing poetry and prose but i’m having fun with this thank u to everyone being so sweet :]

~*~

endless epiphanies have been occuring on jungkook’s mind ever since you opened up about your past relationship and the aftermath of it. he found himself crying like a goddamn child. because you weren’t crying. you weren’t crying at all. you just nervously smiled at him during pauses you made to allow him to process your words. for fuck’s sake, you were picking off lint from his sweatpants. you tried your very best to be composed and help him understand all the things you’ve been longing share. and he thought you must’ve been exhausted all this time, picking up the broken shards of yourself all while trying to protect your progress.

“he was far above me in every sense. he made sure to make me feel that way. we were in a relationship, but somehow, he still felt untouchable. my life revolved around agonizing over how i can better myself to be worthy of him. it was all about him. he was so good at the start, you know? until he could only be bothered to show an effort when he needed something, and i gave and i gave without hesitation. i altered anything he didn’t like. because i thought i was the problem. that all of me would never be enough. i was so naive and stupid.”

jungkook is livid upon hearing about how you were treated. he can’t bear to imagine you at such a toxic situation where someone is finding amusement in watching you destroy yourself for them. you sincerely believed that you would never be enough. it absolutely makes him see red. he wants to beat the shit out of who made you feel this way. his eyebrows were furrowed, mouth in a seething light lipped frown. you took his trembling hands in yours in attempt to soothe him.

the sorrowful and begging look on your eyes encouraged him to gather himself. this isn’t about him. you’re unlocking chapters of your life filled with trauma, pain, and regrets because you trust him to know you entirely as a person. and so, he listened intently, with an open mind and heart. it’s the least i can do. to let you know that i’m here, and i’m here to stay.

“i became distant from my friends. they never liked him. i should’ve listened.” you smiled bitterly. “that’s what we all say in the end, don’t we? so stupid.” you shook your head. “at some point, i woke up and realized i was miserable. i couldn’t recognize myself anymore. i lost sight of what truly matters to me, and who i truly mattered to. i wanted an out. but he cried and he begged. and then i thought, maybe he finally loved me. maybe he’d finally take the initiative. so i took him back. again, so fucking stupid.”

“i thought we were fine, but it became worse. he fucked with my head. he wanted to make me look like the bad guy. to be able to say that he was the one who ended it. he’s smart. i’ll give him that.” you sneered. resentment comes rushing back to your veins. you remember his mocking smirk and condescending tone all too well. how you visibly shrink underneath his gaze. you mistook the racing of your heart as love instead of anxiety and fear. you start to become nauseous. you surrendered to him all the power to run your life to the ground, and it will remain as the biggest mistake of your life.

“he broke up with me. that day, i didn’t feel like a person. he accused me of so many things, said such big words that made me feel so small. i was so humiliated and angry, mostly at myself. what if he was right? no, why did i let this happen to me? and then i left, but i didn’t come home.”

it was jungkook’s turn to hold your trembling figure. “baby, you’re shaking.” he sniffled, caging your face in his big hands. he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed your forehead lovingly. oh, jungkook. you didn’t even notice you were shaking. you mostly felt numb as you recalled the past events. “shhh, it’s okay. we can stop here, and you tell me the rest when you’re ready. i know this is difficult for you, my love.” he ran his hands up and down your arms to help soothe you. he grabbed the blanket from the armrest and wrapped it around you, then carried you over to his lap to embrace your still trembling body.

as you settle into his warmth, you only then perceived that you were overwhelmed with the information you poured out. you have never said these words out loud, they only wander aimlessly around your brain and you get stuck inside. now that they’re out in the open, it once again registered that what you’ve gone through was really fucking dreadful and you wonder how you still ended up here, in the safety of jungkook’s arms. his hushed whispers of comfort and sincere confessions of love gradually lulls you into ease as you nuzzle your face on his neck.

jungkook’s fingers brushed through your hair, gently rocking your body back and forth. “none of it was your fault. you did nothing wrong, okay? you deserved none of that.” you looked up to him and felt your chest tighten upon seeing the dampness under his eyes. “i’m so sorry. that piece of shit didn’t deserve your kindness. i’d give you the world if i could.”

“i have you here right now, i already got the world.” you smiled, pinching his soft cheek. pretty. “i’m fine. i promise. i love you so much. do you know that?”

he attempted to look away but you kept your hand firm. he released a shaky breath before meeting your eyes. “of course, i do. i love you, too. i love you so much.” and you wish you could keep this moment forever in your heart. just incase he changes his mind.

“i didn’t come home. i bought alcohol and went over to my best friend’s house. i was heartbroken. i got wasted and she thought it would just be a one- or two-time thing. but no, i was stubborn.” your hand gripped at his clothing as your voice cracked. “it was so bad. i left home with my uniform on but i skipped school and spent all my allowance on drinking. i got into a lot of trouble outside. there were some times i thought i wouldn’t be able to come home in one piece. i don’t know how i’m even still here. my grades were tanking. that caused a lot of rumors at school because i was an overachiever. i got pissed, so i drank some more. and then one day my parents found me passed out on our doorstep. they were furious. they threatened not to pay for my college, and then they wanted to disown me because apparently i brought shame to their household.”

you grew more anxious and self conscious under jungkook’s gaze. there it was. it’s easier to get angry at your parents, but deep down, you know they were right. you weren’t using your brain. seeing you become such a mess probably satisfied that heinous person more. was it worth it? the harsh bitter liquid burning your throat, the way the world spinned and became an unrecognizable blur as you drowned yourself in another bottle; how you laughed and cried and laughed some more. the scar on your knee from tripping on uneven pavements as you drag your weary vessel all the way home. the walk of shame on the hallway and the hangover from yesterday you persevered through your classes. that day you got suspended for being caught with alcohol in your backpack after promising your parents you’d stop, and the white walls of the hospital closing in as the withdrawal symptoms took a toll on you. the sympathetic smiles of the nurses made you feel more disgusted with yourself.

jungkook broke the defeaning silence as you willed yourself not to fall apart. i’m alright. i’m stronger than this. it’s okay. “but you’re here right now,” he said softly. “you’re okay, right? i mean . . . there’s nothing wrong? with like - you’re better now. you’re healthy?” he shot his questions frantically, concerned eyes darting around your body.

you blinked at him in confusion. “do you think i’m sick? i’m not dying, kook. my liver is fine, thankfully.” his mouth gaped open and shut like a fish, before releasing a relieved sigh. oh my god.

“oh, t-that’s good. for a second i thought-”

“baby . . .” you took his face in your hands and wiped the tears that escaped him with the blanket. “i got better before i got past the point of saving. it was difficult, and i thought i’d never get past it. but i did. i’m here right now,” you smiled at him as a good memory washes over you. “do you know what helped me? books. i picked up a book, and then i was just reading through it all.” really, that’s when the obsession started. you stopped running, and got transported into different worlds and dimensions. instead of ridding of the memories, you override them with entertaining stories and useful knowledge.

jungkook smiled back at you, his rosey nose scrunching adorably. of course. her life do literally depends on them.

“i’m so proud of you. and i hope you are, too. you’re so kind, and brave, and strong.” for the first time, someone who knew about it looked at you with no sympathy or judgement. his eyes twinkled of admiration. as if you just did a heroic act and carried an entire airplane; as if you were his favorite person in the planet.

“i hope you’re no longer placing any blame on yourself. you deserve to be happy and celebrated. and i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens. healing is not linear. you’re not expected to be okay all the time. you don’t need to pretend with the people who love you.” he gently took your hand and kissed it, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. “thank you for the trust you placed in me. i love you. i treasure you.”

the universe was truly on my side that night.

~*~

you jolt awake, your feet kicking away the blanket. your heart is thumping against your chest and you’re shivering uncontrollably. you wrap your arms around yourself to seek for comfort, but to no avail, they don’t cease.

jungkook groans, caressing his cheek that you accidentally hit as he was mostly laying on top of you, his face buried in the expanse of your neck. he swiftly becomes alert at the sight trembling figure in the dark. he turns on the nightlight and gives his full attention to you.

“baby? another bad dream?”

“it was horrible. i was so scared.” even your voice wavers, and you curse your brain for giving you a nightmare for the third time this week. why can’t i just dream of rainbows and unicorns?

he pulls you into his arms, peppering your face with kisses. “shhh, you’re safe now. nothing will hurt you here.” you close your eyes at his calming voice, but open them again when you saw flashes of the dream. “do you want to talk about it?”

you shook your head. “just hold me?”

“of course, baby,”

“thank you,” you whisper. on another thought. “can i also have a kiss?” he chuckles at your request. he presses his lips against yours, lingering for a few seconds before placing another kiss on the corner of your mouth. the sweetest. you hum in satisfaction. “thank you. that was nice.”

“just nice?” he pouts.

“amazing? show stopping? took my breath away?” you tilt your head, acting as if you’re thinking deeply.

“that’s more like it.” he flashes you his pretty smile. “are you going back to sleep?” he rakes his fingers on your hair, carefully fixing the tangles.

you glance at the clock sitting on the nightstand. “i don’t want to anymore. i feel better now, though. go back to sleep.” you climb off him so he can lay back down but he doesn’t move a muscle.

“do you want to go and watch the sunrise?”

well, that does sound tempting but… “babe, you have work in a few hours.” you remind him, patting the space beside you.

“so? that’s fine. i don’t have much to do anyway.” he crawls out of the bed excitedly and takes your hand. “come on, babyyy,” he drags out a whine. well, i guess i don’t have a choice now.

holding hands with jungkook, you find a good spot to watch the sunset. you’re not surprised to see some people at the park already. damn, are they committed to jogging.

he halts in front of a tree. “this is a nice spot. me and my friends have been here before.” he explains as he lays out a picnic blanket. you sit comfortably to take in the place you are at. you hear the birds chirping and the leaves rustling; the cold morning breeze sweeps past you, gently blowing against your hair. you pull at the sleeves of your thick sweater to cover your freezing hands, rubbing them against one another. it’s one of those moments that feels so nice and tranqil, you could cry out of joy.

jungkook grabs your hands in his and blows warm air on them, keeping them close to his chest to casually rub. “you should’ve added another layer. you know how it gets cold in the morning.” he scolds you.

“but this sweater is really cute.” you argue. “i will risk having freezing hands for fashion.”

“no one is even around here to judge your fashion sense!”

“yes, there are. what do you call those people sitting on the bench?” you gesture to your right where the benches are located.

“they’re not even looking at you.”

“shall i strut in front of them then?”

jungkook laughs with eyes closed. a smile forms on your face at the sight. god, there is really no way someone can be so beautiful. and it seems i make him laugh a lot. maybe my job here is done.

“i won’t stop you if you want to do it.” he answers lightheartedly. you pinch his rosy cheek to indulge in your irresistible urge. he swats your arm away, covering his cheek with his hand. “stop abusing my cheeks!”

“well, stop being adorable if you don’t want your cheeks pinched.”

he fakes a gasp. “that’s fucking outrageous. i was born this way.”

“should i blame your parents instead?”

“you know what? they are to be blamed.”

“jungkook, shut up and look at the sky.”

he follows where your gaze is trained. his eyes widen as he marvels at the sunrise. the skies is painted in different shades of purple, with strokes of the orange sun. he’s not much of a morning person, so he rarely witnesses the sunrise. he thinks he might’ve been greatly missing out because, “what the fuck,”

“right?” you respond absentmindedly, completely enchanted by the view in front of you. it doesn’t look real. it looks too majestic to be real. you are once again captured in the fact that the planet holds endless wonders a person could never fully explore in one lifetime. you begin to wonder if you got to travel the world in your past life. and if parallel universes are real, how cool would it be one of other yous is watching the sunset right now?

“stay right here,” jungkook suddenly says before standing up and dashing into the distance.

“what?” your question dissolves into thin air as he turns smaller and smaller in your sight. what the fuck did that man run so fast for? whatever. you take your phone from your pocket and capture pictures. you don’t want to forget this day. you sighed dreamily. am i really awake right now?

“where the fuck did you get that?” you exclaim, puzzled at your boyfriend setting up a painting canvas. beside him are his art materials, neatly organized and well taken care of.

“from my car,” he replies as if the answer is so obvious. he reaches for something from his back and hands you a book. “may i paint you? you can read so you don’t get bored.”

you look at him in disbelief, tightly clutching one of the books he gave you. “when did i ever say no to being your muse?” his face evidently brightens at your words.

“my muse . . . thank you! just be natural. pretend i’m not here.”

he quickly gets into work, examining the colors of the sky as he mixes paint on the palette. you follow his every move, completely in awe of him. his artistic talents never fails to amaze you.

love blooms in your chest as you casually glance up to him from your book. the glow of the sky reflects on his face, and you decide he’s still the most beautiful thing you will ever get the chance to witness. you also sneakily took a picture of him for your ever growing boyfriend folder. he gets so absorbed once he touches his art materials. he’s incredibly passionate and hardworking. he has faith in his abilities, but he has never stopped seeking new ways to improve and grow. he’s inspiring, and he also motivates you to be better.

he smiles at you when your eyes meet, and it just sparks something in you. a lump grows in your throat, your eyes start watering, and soon enough the tears spill down your cheeks. soft sobs escape your mouth as you hastily wipe them away with your sweater paws, but you just can’t stop now that the dam has been released.

“you’re finally crying,” jungkook says softly. he feels so relieved that he might cry too. you find him kneeling in front you, pulling your hands away from your face. “it’s okay, darling. just let it all out. it’s not good to hold back tears.” you feel safe to fall apart in his arms and so, at last, you give in to the cathartic release. and you think, the sun graced the sky this morning to witness your long overdue mourning. grief for lost time, energy, money, and the parts of yourself forever gone.

jungkook is there the entire time, being his ever so caring self. you don’t know how long it took for your sobs to subside into tiny hiccups. you take the tissue he offered to blow your nose, looking away from him in embarrassment. he chuckles, “how do you feel?”

“i feel good. actually, i feel amazing.”

did i just really need a good cry all this time?

“thank you, baby.”

“for what?”

“for bringing me here. for everything.” your chin quivers again. he wipes your tears with his thumbs this time, before leaning down for a passionate kiss. you’re lost in the way his soft lips moved against yours, his tongue never missing a chance to tease you. he playfully bites your bottom lip and then leans his forehead against yours. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you back away and open your abandoned book, biting your bottom lip as the kiss you just shared lingers. “now go back there and finish your painting. don’t you hate unfinished works?”

his doe eyes widen, scampering back to his forgotten canvas. he pulls down his sleeves and dips his paintbrush on the palette. “where the hell did i stop?”

---

note: yn got attracted to toxicity. after being freed from the relationship she resorted to another form of it because she became well versed in self destruction. then she discovered a healthier form of escapism thru reading books :] also being w jk is making her realize that while love is unconditional, it doesn’t necessarily have to painful in order to be real. haha no i’m not projecting ??? gn

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts fluff #jungkook scenario #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook oneshot #bts smut

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alberivh · 3 years

Text

The gravestone of the wilderness — (scraps)

diluc x gn!reader — fluff, angst, comfort/hurt, death, implied werner syndrome, memory loss.

the second stage of diluc’s life, death and you.

a/n : a very very messy writing which were written by me for 2 days…? please listen to je te laisserai des mots while reading this, it would improve your imagination more <3

oh to be a normal couple. Lying in your frail shoulder, diluc exhales his heavy breathing. Trading the air with a brain of oxygen and beauty of life, he let your hands wrapped to his arm. Soothed his messy-red-hair and hearing the whisper of the freedom. Near the lakes of the winery, stand your figure and diluc seeing the sunset in mesmerized glances. It was a peaceful evening, even the birds seems too peaceful that it hurts your soul. The world isn’t fine, how come everything became so peaceful today?

“diluc, quick question..” , you called out his name. Stealing the sunset gaze from diluc’s eyes. His breathing is heavy, his heartbeat is unexpectedly warm. Yet you found his presence a little bit too cold..and too fragile.

“and..what is it?”

“who’ll die first, me or you?” , the question is simple. Like a sword to a warriors body, straightforward and cut short. You pay no attention to diluc’s tighten grip, avoiding his eye contact is the way you make his answer straight and honest. After all, you only want to hear his intentions, why did he still seek you even after your condition worsened? He could had the chance to escape from your affection 3 months ago but why did he stay? Did he pitied the unknown for not being the best of his life?

“you” cold and strong. His whole sight focused on your eyes. Anxiety fills it, tears could even force itself to leave your eyes if diluc told you how your eyes show everything. He seen through you and for so many time, he predicted your words. I don’t have any days left diluc.., is your favorite line. The one he thought to be a bullshit.

“just as i expected”

“but you do know i’m not your doctor right?”

“i trust my lovers instinct better than the doctors, they’re a bunch of creeps anyways” , the sunset falls to the edge of the winery before you could finish your reply. the infuse, the breathing machines and the ventilators were all beside you, accompanying you these past weeks. it was bothersome to bring them all together, but thanks to diluc, you could felt as if you were alive. and with no essentials-help you are fine.

diluc saw your anxiety trembles to sobs. the sunset was over and thus—began the starry moonlight which bright to the breezing sky of monstadt.

“thank you..diluc…” , you carefully clinge to his arm. Hugging it tightly without letting your infuse disturbed the warm of his body. your fingers gone numb but his warmth, it radiates so much energy and comfort to be alive. tears fall to his jacket, the moonlight was yet to be found and here you are pleading your lover to stay. Even if you’re both better dying off alone.

“dying off young is pretty tragic don’t you think? Like us..”, whispering your thoughts under the darkened sky and to diluc who was staring empty at your eyes. It was quite and clear to be hear in diluc’s ear but maybe he prefers to drown himself to your frail shoulder, so he could escape from the reality you were going out from his lines.

“y’know diluc, if i were alive till the 32 years of your life, i’ll be happy to laid on our deathbed together..” , a not so sappy thought to be precise. But diluc tries to understand from what are you implying to say, he doesn’t want to make himself fooled by the guilt of his past.

“and what makes you say that?”

“diluc we all know that i’m dying, i couldn’t always stay like this can i?” “I just want to be free that’s all..but diluc…i don’t wish for someone to forget about me…i want them to know i’m used to be alive and well, i want them to know i’m in love.” — i want them to know i’m in love with you diluc, i don’t want to leave you behind. I don’t want someone to abandoned me behind. I love you diluc. How many times have i told you that? I lost count.

minutes feels like seconds, under the starry night you felt nothing but warm. The warm of his heart and his radiance, although it seems like a facade to hide from your sharp-vision. He is beautiful. but with diluc’s lips under your dry mouth, You could feel more the presence of his fading-figure. Wandering through his palm, the space of his cold fingers and his salty tears. He was crying out of madness. He was frustrated that he couldn’t been able to save you from your draining thoughts.

the sharp needles inside your infuse feels numb. The breathing tube wasn’t as heavy as before. Diluc lips is the only thing you could feel. Under the moonlight, he drops his devotion to his knees. Hands wrapped to your delicate-fragile self. Under the days he left you behind, he apologize. As Now he is humming your lips with hopeless wishes. His kisses are soft, gentle as the wind. Pyro seems so warm to your cryo vision. Unknown for love and ambition to be bear. so this is how falling in love feels like?

the sunrise have awoken, another day has finally begun. Sitting at the balcony with his brother, reading letters and wishes from his inner family circle. Eyebags have grown to diluc’s glance, even his wrinkles start to form onto his charming face. His hair start to fall out to thin airs, leaving half of the once burning red to a pale-silver colored. Enjoying his time with the breeze of the sun, diluc realizes kaeya standing figure. he must be going somewhere..

“Kaeya where are you going?” , voice gone frail. His voice aren’t as strong as before. Even his flatter organs are better than the rusty voice kaeya heard.

“to visit someone, it’s their birthday afterall..want to join in, good-master di—“

“shut up don’t you say that name again” , crossing the words. He exhales his breath. Giving himself an opportune moment to breath the fresh morning air. He flinch to the song of the birds, watching them fly ti the air while the letters flew to the side of the tables. it was a peaceful day for diluc to rest, but nonetheless..he always forgot them. Them who aren’t here anymore. father..and..who are they again?

“Alright big brother diluc ragnvindr..just sit on your wheelchair and prepare your stuff, we’re going to windrise right now.”

“It’s not vennessa’s birthday kaeya, why’d you want to take me to windrise? Are y—“ cutting diluc’s voice, kaeya managed to give him the usual smug face on his sight. Making diluc seems more uncomfortable by his plan.

“Yeah yeah..just stick your butt on the wheelchair already mister, we’re going now woohoo!” , whistling to excitement diluc found his brother action to be quite..suspicious. The road was smooth, maybe because the land of winery belongs to diluc’s and his bloodlines, no? Windrise wasn’t that far from the winery, maybe it is far for someone like diluc to explore such an area in the first place.

Windrise, the inner nation of freedom. The location of free will and vennessa legacy. But why does it feel so..cliché for diluc to remember? He doesn’t remember anything about windrise. He doesn’t remember anything about dying, he doesn’t even remembered the gravestone in front of him now. The air was fresh. The leaves and flowers which grow from the small-location of the gravestone was unexpectedly beautiful. The name which were craved in it was unreadable, maybe it was..once. But never again it would be readable to diluc’s eye.

“happy birthday (name)..me and diluc is in here to plant some cecilia’s..would you mind? Ah if you do..you could breeze the bells there, please don’t mind diluc, he’s lost right now.” , kaeya pleaded to downfall of the gravestone. Whispering questions and rants for the owner of it to know. The bell rang and under the wing it sang. they gladly appreciate your visit, diluc. Kaeya steal his glance to diluc’s unfocused eyes, it look as if it were questioning every each of it’s memories. Who are they and why does kaeya think of them as one of the part of him?

Planting the seeds of cecilia under the ground of the suspicious gravestone. The Crystalflies even surrounded it with grace, as if they all belong to their first habitat, the gravestone of the wilderness. Who are they and why are their remenance so…beautiful?

“hmhm, goodjob. Thank you for accepting our birthday offer..diluc and i will go now, farewell for now, see you soon” , cleaning the dirt from the gravestone. Diluc once again asked kaeya’s answer. But nothing could be found from his brother mouth, it seems it was hidden for diluc’s sake.

“you’ll recognize them again diluc, sooner or after.”

soon never came. Kaeya wasn’t here, he was already gone from the resident, Taking diluc’s place aren’t that easy after all. pale and unrecognized, diluc came to his once work office which he never touch any longer. Searching for documents for kaeya to read for him later at night. His fingertips are still the same, numb and empty. I lack something but what are they…? This uncureable piece of shit was such a bothersome.

oh..what is this..?

a letter? — opening it with caution, diluc found the sight of something he craves. The writing of those who couldn’t be recognized by his mind, yet the feeling..it was warm. So warm and comfortable, that it even shakes diluc’s empathy.

to, my sweetheart, diluc ragnvindr.

i never knew when would you opened this but i think you opened it few years since i have died. I know the side affects of your ilness. So i wouldn’t mind if you forget me all along. It’s not your fault for leaving your old memories and life behind, your ilness is one of the part of your issues diluc and I totally understand that, better than kaeya, better than adeline or elzer. And if you forget about me, it’s fine. You don’t need to remember me, just read this all along alright?

Diluc, my swetheart. You probably found this crumpled behind your documents. Maybe kaeya would found it first than you do and it wouldn’t be much of a problem for me to bare, after all i’m dead and even if you apologize i wouldn’t dare to say i would forgive you. Cause diluc, i’m hopelessly in love with you. I love you diluc. Even if you forget me, even if you died in your old age and disastrous days, even if you don’t love me any longer. I’ll be very happy if you could still read this letter. Your curiosity is the reason i’m alive for once diluc. Your warm is the reason of my short-recovery diluc. You are everything. And if you forgot, then it’ll be fine. Read this letter everytime you felt lost, because no home without your lover, no? Ah nevermind that’s a shitty joke isn’t it diluc? Hehe

I’m very satisfied with what I’ve achieved in my lifetime. I got to be with you and your family. I feel like i’m apart of them, apart from who i become. I escape and i’m alright. I’m alive and it’s all because of you diluc. I’m happy. Very happy. But one thing i couldn’t regret more is the fact i couldn’t marry you and tell my devotions to the crowds. I want you foreve diluc, but our time is short enough for each other sake. Fate was cruel, but it’s fair and merciful. It gave us a time to met each other and i’m thankful.

So diluc, whenever you feel lost. Feel free to found me in the crystalflies and in the starry night of the winds. Whenever you need me, i’ll be there. just so let you know i’m the donor of your heart, please don’t regret the fact i’m sharing my life with you. I’m happy to know you are alive, diluc. As long ad you enjoyed your days and live a well-long life, i’ll be happy to give you my everything. I might couldn’t give you this year, but here. Open this envelope, it’s a present. For what exactly? For your own love, diluc. Accept it, would you? I don’t mind if you wouldn’t, but if you want to wear it, feel free to use it.

I’m very happy to be alive diluc, i love you.

The letters ended and so do his tears scroll through his cheeks. The crystalflies in the gravestone. Oh it’s you all along..? Why didn’t you cry out of regret? Are you happy for what diluc became? Are you, my dear…? He was scared of letting you loved him again. He deserve nothing but your hatred. The envelope, it was fill with your charm bracelet. The matching bracelet you used to talk with diluc.

The gravestone, the cecilia’s..? Aren’t those the promises diluc made before? i’ll grow garden of hundreds cecilia’s with you. But he forgot. Your existance are nothing to him anymore, he lost his senses, he lost everything. This heart..your heart. It was pounding rapidly, it even showed diluc emotions again. He was crying in pain. He was crying in sorrow. Oh god, i wish i’m not that weak. I wish i still love you the same as how those letter told me. Darling, will you love me again? No response. He was truly out of his mind to forget the ones who bring his dimmed eyes back alive. So once again he confesses, falling to his knees as he begged for his mind to remembered you.

The days have past so did you died in his eyes. Casket opened and emptied with your body, cecilia all over the ground. You are dead and yet the pounding heart of yours are the result of love. Strokes his body with empty thoughts, he began to murmured again his love.

your heart..it’s warm, My dear.

TAGLIST : @mikachuchu , @zierx, @childeluv @urujiako , @chichikoi , @noirkkat , @aphrodicts-imagination

#diluc ragnvindr #diluc angst #diluc ragnvindr angst #diluc #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc angst #genshin impact angst #diluc fanfic #diluc ragnvindr fanfic #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #veille’s angst #dilux x y/n #diluc ragnvindr x y/n

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deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

No regrets

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Sukuna x reader (reader is referred to with gender neutral pronouns, but there are slight implications of them being AFAB)

Author note: At a whooping 11.5k words, it’s finally here! Thank you all for your patience as well as those who gave feedback during the initial interest check! I hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy this long piece! A bit of forewarning, this piece is rather dark, so please read the content warnings carefully and only proceed if you are comfortable doing so.

Revisions made on 3/30/2021

Minors do not read/interact with this post!

Heian era

It was only a matter of time before the king of curses came to your village and slaughtered you all. It was inevitable, but the village elders were determined to hand over every last scrap of fabric and goods if it satiated the cursed being for a short while, knowing the all powerful curse was an indulgent one. Your village was a well known trading settlement, so gathering and setting aside the best of the best on the market was rather easy with all the merchants coming in and out of the town nearly every day.

Your family specialized in sword crafting, often forging or repairing swords for soldiers or aristocratic families who merely collected them as works of art. Your father taught you a bit of the craft and a few seasoned samurai humoured you and taught you some forms while they awaited repairs, but you mostly spent time helping your mother around your quaint home. Your days with them were peaceful, even with the ever looming and expected arrival of Ryomen Sukuna blanketing your people with constant fear.

The day finally came, yet all the preparations you and your people took to secure a better chance of survival still didn’t feel like it was enough as the four-armed monster of a man easily destroyed several houses with a mere flick of his hand and cut down several innocent individuals who fled last minute due to their anxiety getting the better of them. He was at least willing to see all that was being offered to him when it was made clear your people were not going down without trying their luck, but that sadistic smile of his was all the proof everyone needed to know that their careful efforts meant nothing.

Your village elders remained determined, and to the shock of you and your parents, they grabbed you and offered you up as one final offering. You were young, the youngest in the village in fact, and unmarried too. A perfect candidate for Sukuna’s harem and they knew this when they turned and grabbed you without a second thought. You still remember the way your mother began to smack your elders with her shoe when they yanked you away from her and your father’s side. Bless her heart.

Perhaps a part of you knew that your status as the youngest would be taken advantage of if things weren’t working out. Sukuna’s harem was only a rumor, scary gossip whispered amongst the housewives. Yet the idea of a monster like him having a harem didn’t seem so farfetched. You knew better than to question the validity of the lucky few who got away and were displaced because of Sukuna’s village razing and massacring.

Whether he accepted the last second addition to the offer pile or killed every single one of you right then and there, you accepted that your life would never return to how it once was before he came. You didn’t make so much as a peep of discomfort when the brute began to manhandle you, pulling back parts of your clothes away from your body to inspect you in front of the entire village, in front of your distraught parents. You didn’t wince in pain when he roughly grabbed your cheek between two of his meaty fingers and examined your face like you were merely a piece of art, an object. You just went completely numb.

Everyone, including yourself, was shocked when he agreed to take you along with all the goods your village offered, but not without ordering them to prepare another pile for his followers to collect every following month from now on. He made it clear that if they held back a single grain of rice or gave him anything else but the best, he’d send your body back to them in a bloody sack before reuniting them with you in the afterlife shortly after.

As the king of curses hauled you away like a sack of potatoes, your emotions came flooding back in. You kicked, scream, cried and begged like a moody toddler for your mom and dad to help you, to not let this monster take you away and do know who knows what to you. The last you see of them before you’re forcefully knocked out is your mother suddenly collapsing on the ground like all the energy she had just left her body instantaneously. Your brawny father seemed equally at a loss as well.

When you were brought back to Sukuna’s temple, you were hauled away by servants after he unceremoniously dropped you on the ground and retreated to his chambers. You were thoroughly bathed, skin rubbed raw of outside filth and dressed into a fresh new robe before being whisked away to Sukuna’s quarters by his demand.

That first week under his roof was meant to break you, but for some reason you kept fighting back because of something a bit stupid. You wanted to keep your old clothes the maids forced you out of and you wouldn’t shut up or keep still under him no matter how much he harmed or degraded you. You don’t know why you kept pushing back against him over something so meager. The fabric wasn’t anything that fancy. The color was faded and you were even beginning to outgrow them. It’s the only memento you have of your home, so maybe that’s why your mind zeroed in on it and refused to yield to his torturous ministrations until you made certain it wouldn’t be taken away from you.

“Again with those rags you call a kimono?” he clicked his tongue with annoyance. “You want to keep them so badly? Fine, but don’t think I’ll be so accommodating next time.”

Living in a merchant town, you know how to tell when someone is trying to swindle you. As much as you hate the man who has been violating your body for literal days now, you can tell that he means what he has stated.

When you finally relax your body, he lets out a disgustingly child-like cackle, but before you can express any sort of rage that bubbled up within yourself, your mind goes numb once more if only to alleviate the pain you’re in just a bit.

There are two types of fates for those in Sukuna’s harem. There are the favoured concubines, who live relatively better than the disfavoured, who are made into servants. Of course, this is all a meticulous set up by the king of curses himself. Those he shows higher favoritism towards are desperate to remain in his good graces if only to make their way of living that bit easier to bear. Those he turns into lowly servants and brushes aside are desperate to rise above their rank and gain the privilege and spoils he grants to the selected few. It’s all an elaborate plan to instill discord between members of his harem so he can sit back and watch them tear each other apart without lifting a finger.

Your fighting back was what earned you an automatic spot amongst his favoured. He thought he had broken you, but just as soon as you yielded to him you flared up and began to fight back once more. It was invigorating, seeing the rage and desperation in your eyes when you were quiet and had a distant, blank look just moments before. How long had it been since a human raised their fist against him? Far too long for him to remember.

You were an outlier. Where all would refuse to meet his gaze whenever he passed through, you would always meet and hold his gaze without fail or hesitation. You talked back, cursing him a thousand ways into the next phase of the moon. You never bowed when others did. Never.

Your disobedience gave him plenty of reasons to drag you to his chambers and attempt to break you once more, only for you to shut your mind down as soon as you were thrown into his bed. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism? A way of trying to disassociate from all the rough treatment you endure under him? A part of him is grateful you aren’t like the others, that you’ve come up with a way of protecting yourself while the others around you, who give into the despair and hopelessness he brings them or lie to themselves that he holds some sort of affection towards them, if only to find some sort of hope through this hell even if it means lying to yourself. Both of which bore him immensely as well as annoy him greatly.

It’s sudden and neither of you can recall when it began, but after he was done having his way with you and you regained your sense of reality and would devolve into the usual episode of flailing rage and crying, he began to hold you against him and whisper soothing phrases like “good job” or “It’s over, you did well”. He kept his many arms wrapped around your shaking figure, waiting for you to eventually exhaust yourself and pass out before doing so himself. When the sun rises you are always gone from his chambers. How you manage to escape right from under him is a mystery, but he doesn’t have much of a desire to ask you about it. He likes waking up surprised. Hardly anything surprises him anymore.

It becomes clear to everyone that Sukuna acts differently towards you, treats you differently than the rest of his concubines. There are even periods of time where the rest of his harem is given little to no attention because he’s completely focused on you. The time he spends with you isn’t anything kind or relieving. He purposely says things that offend you and have you screaming at him. Should anyone else say what you say to him in return, he’d rip their tongues out and swallow it before their very eyes without any remorse. But you? He’s smiling down at you, as if you were an actor entertaining him with an elaborate and well-rehearsed performance.

“Damn you! Damn this temple! Damn your ancestors for existing and bringing you into this world!”

“Yes, that’s the spirit!” he gives you a toothy grin, his sharp canines glinting under the light of the sun. “Damn me and damn the rest of the world for that matter!”

His encouragement only infuriates you more. Without a second thought you began to throw whatever it is you can get your hands on at him. Your comb, your shoes, your untouched makeup products, anything in sight is hauled at the deranged man who dodges everything with ease. Just as you throw a jar of ink at his head and it shatters against the way, bathing the wood with dark ink, he grabs you and you both tumble back into your unmade futon.

As usual, you thrash and voice your disdain as he presses his lips against your neck and aggressively undresses you. He’s high off the adrenaline from earlier, making his ministrations much more excruciating than they normally are.

To him, it feels like a passionate session of lovemaking and he’s left light headed when he finishes.

For you, it’s just another day under his reign and body, your mind going numb as soon as he puts you on your hands and knees.

Just as quickly as he gave you most of his attention, he turned away and left you in the dust.

You have been his concubine for over a year when it happens. Your village continues to uphold their end of their deal and provide him with all the luxurious goods they can get their hands on each month. You’re not sure if he’s trying to torture you more or genuinely thinks he’s bringing you some sense of comfort and calm, but he personally brings you a small bunch of fabrics and trinkets that your father specifically went out of his way to get for you, hoping you would receive them somehow as a reminder that he still thinks of you. It’s during these small moments of Sukuna passing on these items that you learn that your mother passed after you were taken.

You didn’t shed even one tear when this information was given to you, as a part of you knew that was the case after you saw her collapse. Sukuna expected you to fly into another fit of rage. That was the only reason he told you if he’s being honest. He’s caught between feeling disappointed or worried when you just hummed in acknowledgement as you rolled up the soft, intricate rolls of fabric and stored them away. You never did anything with them, so they were sure to collect a layer of dust like the rest in due time

No one, not even Sukuna or even yourself, expected your village to take up arms and fight back against the followers he sent out to collect his offerings. When word came back of what transpired, Sukuna was tempted to take you with him and force you to watch as he slaughtered your village in retaliation for breaking the accord. He didn’t, nor did he send back your disfigured corpse like he promised he would back then. He simply went out, killed them, and then came right back to wash off all their spilled blood. All within the same day.

After he killed all the villagers, he attempted to locate your father amongst the scattered corpses, but they were too mutilated and disfigured to discern who was who. Even if they weren’t, it’s not like he remembered what your father looked like. Did you even bear any resemblance to him? He overheard you speaking with one of the other concubines that your father was an armorer and was tempted to grab one of the expertly crafted swords the villagers were carrying and bring it back to you, blood and all staining the scabbard. He decided against it.

He’s demoted many concubines, all with the purpose of watching them try to regain the meager luxury and privilege they grew accustomed to. He did the same for you, eager to see you break character and come crawling back to him with pitiful desperation.

A part of him knew that it wouldn’t take much effort on your part to have him changing his mind. He’d easily forgive you for the betrayal of your village. All you had to do was put on a show and give him the entertainment he wanted from you. You can kick and scream and deny him all you want, but he’s broken many people like you before. He’s had you under his spell since day one.

Except, you didn’t do anything. When he sent you to live within the overcrowded servants chambers near the far end of his temple, you never put up any sort of fight or caused a scene. Not even when he gave away all the fabrics your father sent you to the other favoured concubines, going as far as to force them to wear the garments whenever and wherever your presence is at. He waited with giddy for someone to inform him of how you lashed out at another girl and attempted to rip the cloth off of her body because they were wearing the fabrics meant for you. But there was nothing from you.

When he dragged you to his quarter and began to violate you like normal, he forced himself to brag and even fabricate details of the day he slaughtered the people from your village. He even lied about how your father asked about you before he was killed, falsely stating that the man had a smile on his face when Sukuna told him that you received all the goods he selected just for you.

Like always, your mind went blank until he finished. There were no twisted words of comfort afterwards like before. He simply ordered you out once he was done, one final attempt to invoke something out of you. You merely redressed and left in silence. He nearly got up and dragged you back, but once again, he decided against it.

One day he ordered a few men to build a crude looking home out back, detached from the main temple, and have you moved in it upon completion. If his normal efforts won’t elicit the usual reaction out of you, then he’ll take a different approach. He’ll deprive you of everything, social interaction, decent and consistent meals, and a stable shelter. He’ll have you isolated for a short while, after which he will visit you out of pity and revel in the sight of you crawling back into his arms. If the time he forces you alone is not enough to break you, he’ll simply extend your stay until you either give him what he wants or die because of your own stubbornness.

It hasn’t even been a day since you’ve been moved from the servant's chamber to your new quarters, and already he’s come to visit you. Within the same breath that tells you that your only other option besides begging for his forgiveness is to rot away in this poorly made shack, he gives you one final chance to change his mind, to beg him to take you back into his good graces.

The tatami is poorly crafted and discolored. The rafters used to construct the frame of the house already show signs of rotting and water damage. Before he allowed himself in, the tiles on the roof appeared to be hastily made and were not properly laid out. It was lightly raining outside, yet you already have a wooden bucket set up to collect leaking water.

“Can I help you?” you ask without glancing over your shoulder. He smirks at the thought of you knowing who he is by presence alone.

“No,” he smugly answers. “But maybe I can help you?”

You look back over to him with a mean glare. “You’re the one that put me here in the first place.”

“No, I didn’t,” he shakes his head to further cement his point. “You’re in here because your people thought they stood a chance against me and broke our agreement. Killing you would be an act of mercy to them. So long as I keep you alive and slowly torture you in both mind and body, they will never know peace.”

“You’re lying,” you say with certainty, with no fear. “I’ve never lied to you once. I would appreciate it if I can at least be given the same courtesy in return.”

He hates when people demand things from. Most importantly, he hates that you’re right. Your neck is always so small within his grasp, his fingers able to meet and fold over one another without strain. He keeps you suspended in the air just enough to where you can balance yourself on the balls of your feet. Whether you were tall or short, it mattered not. He always towered over you like the predator that he is.

“You want to know why you’re in this shitty home?” he sneers down. “You’re in here because you’ve begun to bore me. You amused me so much before, but the moment you started depriving me of my source of entertainment on purpose is the moment I decide to deprive you of your basic needs in return. I take what I want, when I want it, in whichever quantity I desire.

“You want out of here?” He makes a sweeping gesture around the room. “Then you better press your forehead all the way to the floor and beg for me to take you back. I’ll even tell you the exact words you need to say. ‘Please Sukuna-sama. Please allow me the privilege of sleeping under the same roof as you. Please let me breathe the same air as you.’”

He lets you go and grins when you prostrate after regaining your breathe.

“Please Sukuna-sama,” you beg.

“Please what?” he mocks. “Use your words.”

He feels a vein pop out on his forehead when you dare to look up and look at him with yet another angry grin. Without an ounce of hesitation, you say, “Please get out and leave me be.”

He nearly breaks the door from how hard he slams it shut. He abruptly turns around when he hears a roof tile fall over and splat into the muddy dirt. Those followers of his really built you a shitty home, exactly like he ordered them to do.

He feels the urge to gather them and wring their necks one by one, but he doesn’t know why.

Sukuna can’t sleep during those weeks apart. Not because of you, but because right as he drifts off into slumber he’s abruptly woken up by an intense source of cursed energy flaring up out of nowhere. But just as quickly as he feels it and wakes with a startle, it vanishes without a trace. He’ll go out onto his balcony and try to locate where the energy is coming from, but for some reason he can never pinpoint it despite his superior senses. He tries to suppress his own energy in the hopes of tricking the source into thinking he’s asleep and unsuspecting, but it would seem that they’re smart enough not to fall for the bait.

He doesn’t need sleep in the first place, so he’s tempted to just stay up and catch whoever is trying to scare him red handed and be done with them. The idea of someone getting the upper hand at him and forcing him into a position of defensiveness doesn’t sit well with him, so he decides to just let the unknown person have their fun for now and continue this little back and forth with them. Eventually they’ll grow cocky and slip up and he’ll confront them when it happens.

Because your little shack is located near the back of the temple, completely out of sight from Sukuna’s view from his balcony, Neither he nor the others notice the plumes of smoke that rise during the dead of night. No one also takes notice of the bits of metal that go missing throughout the temple.

The rise of the next full moon indicates the end of the month. Sukuna sends for someone to go retrieve you, but they never return and he’s left waiting long enough for the moon to reach its highest peak in the sky. When he orders someone else into his quarters he’s met with more silence that only further enrages him.

Just as he’s about to call for Uraume to figure out what the hell was wrong with his servants, he feels it. The cursed energy that he’s been trying to catch off guard the last few weeks. It’s willingly making itself known, practically begging him to follow its trail and meet with him. Just as quickly as he is able to identify and figure out which direction it’s originating, he notices that it strangely leads him in the direction of your poorly built home.

It’s impossible that it’s you. Cursed energy is born from negative emotions. He’s sure you still have an abundance of negative feelings towards him. Yet never did he feel even a speck of cursed energy resonate off of you. His mind immediately wonders if the individual knows of his strange obsession over you and is using you as bait. It’s foolish on their part, thinking the king of curses would yield for a mere human.

His pace quickens despite his internal dismissal, failing to notice that everyone is hiding and waiting in anticipation.

When he discovers that the cursed energy is indeed from you, he can’t help but to laugh like a crazed hyena. The sword by your side further amuses him and he’s genuinely curious as to how you got the proper materials to craft it.

“It took a bit of convincing,” you willingly answer his question. “I made everyone believe I could stand a chance against you and they gave me all the materials and tools I needed and looked the other way. I guess watching all those traveling merchants try to hype up their goods came in handy after all,” you look out in the distance as you briefly reminisce on the bygone days of your former life.

He begins to slowly clap with one pair of hands, the other crossed over his chest in amusement. “This is by far the most entertaining performance I’ve ever witnessed. Bravo. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“I’d gladly accept the compliment, except this isn’t a show,” you stand to your full height and get a better grip of the hilt of your sword. “It’s the real deal.”

He erupts into yet another cacophony of wild laughter. “Do you seriously think you can kill me?”

“No,” you answer, truly throwing him off guard by the way he goes still so suddenly. “But that’s alright. I’m fine with never being strong enough to put a permanent end to you. Only one of us will be walking away from this fight, and I assure you that it’s going to be me.”

You draw your blade out and get into a low, defensive stance. Even under the lackluster light of the moon, he can see how well crafted your weapon is. He’s reminded of the craftsmanship the weapons your people carried when he slaughtered them, no better than a bunch of wooden sticks against him either way. Immediately, he regrets not bringing back one of their weapons and forcing you to expose to him your knowledge of swordsmanship and blacksmithing. Perhaps then he could have had you brandishing your blade under his command rather than against him.

Oh well, it’s better this way. It’s just as exhilarating and head swirling as those instances where you damned him with all of your being and threw things at his head. No, it’s more than exhilarating. It’s downright intoxicating seeing you readying yourself for his first move. How sweet of you to allow him the honor to make the first strike.

“You truly are something else entirely, beloved,” he dreamily sighs. “Did you honestly think you’d have the upperhand against me just because I gave you a little bit more of my attention?”

“Never,” you reply. You press your eyelids shut for a moment, and the moment you open them up the layer of dissociative numbness vanishes into a look of total focus and emotions he cannot discern. “But whether I live or die, I have no regrets about tonight.”

You really didn’t have enough strength to kill him. However, you did have enough to dismember all twenty of his fingers and seal him away. For the first time in years, the sun rises and bestows its warmth to a world in which two-faced Sukuna does not instill fear upon humanity or stain the earth in their blood. You and those who were under his servitude walk out of his temple as free people, hopeful people. As an act of gratitude for becoming their savior, nineteen others take one of Sukuna’s fingers each and swear to scatter them as far as they can so he cannot be brought back into the world.

As for yourself, you set out to rebuild your destroyed village and take up your father’s legacy as a maker of swords. Eventually you meet and settle down with a loving partner and raise children together. You pass on the family trade, your self developed cursed technique, as well as the memories of your time as Sukuna’s concubine. Those who come after you continue to carry on your will, to ensure that Sukuna can never be reborn into the world. Your sword and the old robes you kept after you were taken away are passed down as family heirlooms, but they are never used by any of your descendants.

That is until the year 2018, when Sukuna is resurrected within a compatible vessel.

Modern era

You bear not only a striking resemblance to your ancestor, but many of their memories as well. The family sword that was used against the king of curses is bestowed upon you, now dubbed the next in line to claim the title of clan leader, their preserved kimono now fashioned into a sageo that wraps around the scabbard.

Your family stays out of most affairs within the jujutsu world, but your birth and the strong connection to your ancestor eventually reaches the ears of many prominent figures within this hidden society. They think your birth a bad omen, a sign that the king of curses may return to the world one day. Most are scared, but your family pays them no attention. Even if the damnable curse did find a way to revive into the world, you and most of your family members who have inherited your ancestor’s technique will oppose him just as they did a thousand years ago.

“You don’t look too concerned,” Gojo makes his observation known to you as soon as the two of you settle in the small private room you ushered him to when he came to your family estate. He wanted to confirm the news of Sukuna’s resurrection to you himself. “None of you do, actually.”

“We all knew this day would come,” you calmly tell him as you poured him a cup of tea. “This is the risk our ancestor took when they developed their technique. In exchange for the strength and ability to seal Sukuna away, they willingly gave up the ability to deliver him a fatal and final blow against him.”

“I’m not well-versed when it comes to binding vows and heavenly restrictions,” he takes a moment of pause to sip his now cooled tea, visibly showing his disdain over it’s bitterness. “But is giving up the satisfaction of killing him really a fair exchange for a specific technique and a bit of cursed energy?”

Your lips pressed together in a grimace. “You have no idea what it was like living underneath that monster’s reign. Even if the binding vow had odd conditions skewed against their favor, every bit of what was given up was worth it if it meant regaining their freedom.”

Gojo isn’t moved or even impressed by your admittance. He simply shrugs before taking another sip of his tea, face contorting in displeasure once again as he forces himself to swallow the green liquid. You’re tempted to ask him why he keeps sipping if he hates the flavor, but he begins speaking again before you can voice your thoughts.

“So, about the vessel,” he leans against his closed fist, propped up by the low table underneath him. “The higher ups are willing to postpone the kid’s execution in favor of the opportunity to kill Sukuna, but they want someone from your family, preferably you, to be his second shadow so to speak. You’re the failsafe in case the plan doesn’t play out like I promised and the curse needs to be sealed again.”

“Sukuna’s vessel...is a child?” you ask incredulously.

“He’s about your age,” Gojo admits with a displaced smile, but it soon falls once you suddenly erupt into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

“That’s priceless!” you say while wiping away a stray tear. “The king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna, stuck inside some teenager’s body? I bet he’s pissed off and swearing up a storm inside the kid!”

You’re not sure who exactly is getting the most amusement at the turn of events, you or your ancestor from beyond the grave. After your laughing fit subsides and you straighten yourself out, you turn back to Gojo to ask him the burning question.

“So when do I get to meet him?”

Itadori Yuuji is the polar opposite of Sukuna. While Sukuna had a smile that both angered and scared your ancestor and those around him, Yuuji’s was like a literal ray of sunshine. He’s nice, energetic, strong willed and even humorous. You’re honestly surprised he can act so hopeful despite all that’s happened to him and has been forced upon his shoulders.

You’re not going to lie, but you honestly expected a timid and somewhat gloomy kid. Someone easy to manipulate to put it bluntly. Yuuji’s friendly personality is welcomed in your book. Though you admit that now that you’ve exchanged a few words with him, you feel bad and pitiful that he’s been marked for death and likely has to deal with Sukuna on a somewhat regular basis.

As Yuuji rambles to you about some childhood incident, the slits underneath his eyes open up and a familiar pair of red eyes meets your gaze. “It’s you,” the manifested mouth on the side of his cheek morphs into a deranged, toothy grin that is so painstakingly recognizable.

Your heartbeat picks up and your palms are coated with an instantaneous layer of nervous sweat. You contemplate saying something or simply ignoring the curse, not wanting to give him any satisfaction of hearing the voice of your ancestor acknowledge him in any way. Before you can come to any consensus, you’re amazed at how Yuuji easily slaps his hand over his cheek and tells the curse to buzz off.

Itadori further cements that he is Sukuna’s antithesis as he goes out of his way to apologize to you for the inconvenience the curse caused you (How could he tell you became nervous when Sukuna spoke only two words at you?) He even brings you a can of soda as a sort of peace offering/token of forgiveness! You’re grateful for the gesture, but you feel bad for letting him think that he’s at fault for something that wasn’t even that big of a deal to begin with.

“Still, I made you upset,” he looks down to his empty can and pouts. “If you don’t want to be around me-”

“Yuuji,” you interrupt him. “I’m fine, really. My ancestor stood their ground against him once. Surely I can do it again a millennium later.”

“Gojo-sensei was telling me about that!” his eyes sparkle with recollection. “That’s so cool! You’re basically his arch nemesis!”

You awkwardly laugh at his enthusiasm. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“So, Senpai,” he looks at your with a hopeful gaze. “Gojo-sensei seems pretty certain this plan of his will work, but what do you think?”

“Well,” you take a quick sip of your drink before continuing. “Before I tell you what I think about this whole debacle, I need to make a few things thing clear regarding the two of us.”

He obediently nods, face now serious, though it takes you a considerable amount of effort not to laugh from how innocent he still looks. It’s hard to believe he’s housing the king of curses within himself.

“First and foremost, don’t call me Senpai! ” you firmly say. Don’t call me by my family name either. We’re about the same age, so just call me by my first name from now on. Understood?”

“First name, got it!”

“Second,” you put up two fingers. “This is the most important point, so pay attention,” you look at him to make sure he’s ready to commit your words into memory. “Whether the plan works out or not, you must never forget one important fact of the matter. You are not Sukuna.”

He flinches, clearly not expecting such words to be directed towards him.

“I’m sure Gojo whipped up some epic tale about my ancestor’s grudge against that two-faced monster. I not only inherited their technique, but also many of their memories during their initial life. In a way, I suppose I hate Sukuna as well, and based on my reaction from earlier when he popped out, I’m not exactly going to handle moments where he gains control with as much poise as I should.

But remember Yuuji. My discomfort will never be towards you, but the curse you are now bound to,” you reach out and pat his head in assurance. “As the saying goes ‘the enemy of my enemy is a friend.’ Which brings me to my final point!” You excitedly profess. “I want us to be friends!”

“Wait, really?” he sounds almost unsure over your insistence. “I mean, I don’t mind, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to put up with me for my sake.”

“I’m not saying we have to be the best of friends” you explain. “Since we’re going to be around each other so often, I at least want us to be on friendly terms. I want your time left in this world to be as enjoyable and carefree as possible.”

“I guess we can be friends,” he crosses his arms and stares off in deep thought. “I’m just trying to think of a good starting point to get to know you.”

“You can always keep it simple and ask me what I like,” you say, laughing at the way he suddenly has an “ah hah!’ moment and looks at you like an excited puppy.

“Do you like Jennifer Lawrence?”

Yuuji is almost offended that you didn’t know who Jennifer Lawrence is. He was utterly flabbergasted that you haven’t watched any of her movies either (“I don’t even know who she is Yuuji how the hell am I supposed to know she was in movies?”). He went on and on about every single film, but if you’re being honest his 2 minute summaries (infodumping, really) of the plots didn’t really do them justice. Out of nowhere he proposes that you and him have a movie night so he can show you exactly what you’re missing! Of course, it’ll have to be after the two of you settle into your dorm rooms.

It’s true that you were offered immediate admission into Tokyo Technical college due to your lineage, but no one but you and your family knew about this. Gojo also knew. He was the one that brought up the idea in the first place…

Oh, Gojo told him. Well now you just feel stupid.

That’s how you found yourself in the dormitory’s common area with Yuuji and your other classmates, Nobara and Megumi. Meeting them wasn’t that bad. Just kidding, it was terrifying! Megumi looks exactly the way your family often describes members of the Zen’in clan to look like, blank and unnerving. You honestly thought Nobara would beat you up just from the way she was looking at you with such an observing glare, completely forgetting the fact that you’re a descendant of the person who single handedly sealed Sukuna away.

Oh yeah, Yuuji told them that! Was he not supposed to?

“Hah?” Nobara scowls at Yuuji, who puts his hands up in defense. “You mean their old ass grandparent turned that ugly ass curse into bite sized pieces?”

“I did,” you answer, but you quickly catch your mistake and correct yourself. “They did. Along with the sword they used to cut Sukuna down I also inherited most of their memories which is...It’s not as pleasant as you would think.”

Her expression softens up a bit and she steps in front of you. She holds out her palm and makes a beckoning gesture. “The sword,” she clarifies when you look at her with confusion. “Let me hold it.”

You make a quick trip back to your room to retrieve it. She nearly doubles over into you once you pass it over to her.

“Damn! How much does this thing weigh?!” she looks at you with disbelief

“It weighs next to nothing whenever I hold it,” you explain, taking it into your hold and tossing it in the air and twirling it around to further drive your point.

“Bullshit! It’s like 50 pounds!”

“It can’t be that bad,” Megumi comments.

“Oh yeah? Here!” Nobara grabs and tosses it at him, much to your dismay. “See?” she shrills when he nearly doubles over himself. “It’s heavy!”

“Yeah, ok. This is definitely the sword that took down Sukuna,” Megumi gasps.

“My turn! My turn!” Yuuji makes grabby hands, but you push yourself between him and Megumi who’s still holding onto it before he can get too close.

“It’s probably best if you don’t touch it. Y’know?” you point back and forth between him and you.

“Oh, right,” he sheepishly remembers. “Crap, the popcorns gonna get cold!”

You sigh in relief when his attention goes elsewhere before quickly heading back to your room to put the weapon away. When you reenter the lounge, Yuuji greets you with a cheery smile before patting the empty space next to him. He wants you to sit beside him, but Nobara seems to have other plans as she sits right in your intended spot and tells you to sit next to her instead. You were honestly scared and a bit reluctant, but your fears subside once you sat down and she locked her arm with yours and leaned her head on your shoulder for the rest of the night.

She and Megumi eventually retreated back to their rooms before they could fall asleep on the couch after the second movie concludes.

“Do you want to keep going?” Yuuji asked, hands fidgeting with the next DVD case he had at the ready.

“Sure,” you nod, not tired in the slightest just yet.

“Sweet!” he gave you a toothy smile before standing up to head towards the dvd player. However, the moment he stood to his full height he went deathly still. His body contorts before swiftly relaxing. He rolls his neck a few times and lets out a relieved sigh. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, that’s when you feel that disgusting familiar aura and your heart starts beating like you just did a triathlon in a few short minutes.

“Finally, some fresh air,” he sighs in relief as he arches his back and his spine lets out a few crisp pops. His voice hasn’t changed in a thousand years and neither has your fear and disdain for it. When he turns and looks at you with those familiar blood colored irises, you involuntarily reach out to grab your weapon, but you only grab at empty air.

“Hey,” you flinch when he addresses you. No, it’s not you he’s talking to. Given your identical appearance and even your cursed energy that you manifested out of habit, in his mind he must think of you as your ancestor themself, not a distant descendant. “It’s been a while.”

“What do you want?” you somehow manage to stutter out.

“Nothing,” he admits. “’Just want a good look at you.”

If your ancestor or even your family were to see you now, you’re certain they’d be disappointed in you for going still before your greatest enemy. All those years of hating and experiencing all those horrible memories feel like a complete waste when you can’t even muster the strength to bat his hand away when it takes hold of your chin and turns your head over for him to thoroughly inspect you.

“Did you miss me?” he strangely inquires.

Finally. You feel some control over your body come back and answer with an affirmative, “No.”

“That’s too bad,” he clicks his tongue with mocking dissatisfaction. “Because I missed you.”

His face begins to lean into you, lips slightly parted, and you know that he’s going in to press them against yours. Just as you’re about to gather all the strength you can muster and push him away, his body seizes once more and the black markings cross his face and wrists begin to fade and crumble away. An in-control-again Yuuji blinks a few times before checking his surroundings to regain his bearings.

“What happened?” he looks down at you and asks, not registering the fact that he was kneeling over you and firmly pushing you back against the couch with a painful grip.

A part of you wanted to punch Yuuji and run back to your room so you can wait out the slight panic attack that overcame you once Sukuna vanished, but you had to remind yourself that you would be hurting Yuuji if you went through with your action. In all honesty, that second point you told him of remembering to never think of himself as Sukuna was more for you than for him. While your ancestor would willingingly strike down any and all who have the slightest bit of affiliation with their tormentor, you are not them. Therefore, you will not stoop down to their discriminating level, no matter how justified it may be.

The night ended on an expected awkward note. Yuuji, bless his heart, went out of his way again to make it up to you. How? He bought a bunch of snacks from a convenience store in the city and gave them to you in a pretty, gift wrapped box. Nobara and Megumi, who helped him put together the forgiveness present, thought the gift itself was dumb and lackluster, but he reasons with them by stating how you also come from a countryside town as well and how you’d definitely like to try some of the Tokyo-exclusive goodies.

Well, the way towards another’s forgiveness is through the stomach, or something like that. The exact quote is a bit lost to you since you’re too busy savoring all the odd flavored chips and candies you’ve never had the chance to taste back home. Nobara and Megumi feel the immense urge to punch you in the back of your head over how easy you are to win over, but you look so happy eating your second bag of potato chips and Yuuji looks very relieved that he’s earned your forgiveness-

Oh wow you’re offering to share your snacks with them? Don't mind if they do!

While all of you try each and every snack Yuuji gifted to you and rate them like you’re all a bunch of snack experts all of a sudden, Sukuna is brewing in his own satisfaction as he watches you through the eyes of his vessel. Nevermind the fact that you sealed him away all those years ago. He’s back now by a stroke of luck that only seemed to strike again when he saw your familiar figure through Yuuji’s vision. The cursed energy that radiated off of you, the sword you carried by your side, even your face, there was no doubt in his mind that it was the work of fate that you and him were reunited in this new era.

He made the mistake of letting you out of his sight back then, and he isn’t going to let it happen again. He wants to take control over his vessel's body each and every time he’s anywhere within your vicinity, but not only does the brat have the convenient ability to suppress him, you’re a rather cautious one. Just when he thinks Yuuji to be alone and susceptible, you appear out of thin air and keep him at a standstill from within. It’s annoying, but at the same time impressive as well.

While you may be oblivious to his vessel’s budding feelings towards you, he sees this growing fondness Yuuji is beginning to garner towards you as an opportunity, a weakness he can exploit to force a small rematch between you and him. He won’t kill you. He just wants to know if your technique that surprised and caught him off guard back then still elicits the same thrill it did then.

You are his favorite source of entertainment after all, and it’s been far too long since he’s been amused.

Sloppy and desperate. Those are the best descriptors of your cursed energy the first time he detected it. Your sword still remains as beautiful and deadly as it was, cutting through rows of trees with ease with just the slightest bit of cursed energy embedded into your attack. It makes the phantom sensation of his vessel’s freshly ripped out heart, beat faster and his grin widens to the point of his cheeks hurting from the uncontrollable strain.

Precise and brutal. That is how he would describe your energy now. He easily feels the hatred and sudden rage that began to fuel and flare up your aura oozing out of you that only further accentuates its new characteristics. Normally, you would be swearing at him with a mouth so foul that it would make the average curse blush in embarrassment. He can’t say he likes the way you silently assault him. Where is that crude vocabulary of yours?

“Senpai!” Megumi shouts for your attention as he tries to keep up with your fast paced exchange with Sukuna. “You need to call down-”

“Megumi, don’t call me your damn Senpai!” You shout in response, eyes never daring to look away from Sukuna even as you address your classmate.

“That’s more like it!” he cheers with satisfaction. “Oh, how I’ve missed your damning words beloved.”

“Don’t call me that!” you shout as you swing your right arm and impulsively punch him. He easily blocks your melee, though you send him skidding back a few feet.

With the much needed space set between the two of you, you correct your stance to a more defensive one. Your innate technique has been actively running ever since Sukuna took over Yuuji’s body and activated his domain expansion. Your sudden bout of rage overwhelmed you after witnessing Sukuna rip Yuuji’s heart out, nearly forgetting that you’ve been barred from the ability to inflict any lasting damage against him in your frenzied state.

Your inherited technique allows you to perfectly parry his ‘Dismantle’ and ‘Cleave’, but no damage will be inflicted if you purposely strike with the intention of dealing a lethal blow as you have been for the past few minutes. Your sword is blunt upon contact, evident by the lack of any lacerations upon his skin.

He may have offered the chance to heal Yuuji if you agreed to spar with him, but you know better than anyone that it’s all a bunch of lies coming out of his stolen lips. Yuuji was lost the moment Sukuna came out and set his sight on you, or rather, who he believes you to be. You’d easily blame yourself for being the cause of his demise, but you also know that Yuuji wouldn’t like it if you blame yourself over this from the afterlife.

The least you can do to make it up to him is bring his body back so it can be properly cremated. He at least deserves a proper funeral.

“All tuckered out already?” Sukuna mockingly coos at you. “I suppose that’s to be expected. How long has it been since our last battle? I doubt there was any curse who could live up to my strength this past millennium.” He cackles when you don’t reply. He’s right. He knows he is.

You finally break your silence with an odd comment. “You really think I’m them, do you?”

Though obviously rhetoric, Sukuna gives you a questioning look. “Elaborate,” he commands.

“I’m not who you think I am,” you simply state. “I have the same technique as them, but I am not the one who sealed you away that fateful night. That person is my predecessor, while I am their descendant.”

You state your family name, then your first name, and wait. He willingly takes in this information, cupping his chin and looking up at the sky as he mulls it over before coming to his own conclusion. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t seem to accept it as the truth, evident by the way he slips his hands back in his pockets and cocks his head at you with a playful attitude.

“Whatever the punchline was, I’m afraid it fell flat,” he lets out a sympathetic laugh. “You mean to tell me that after I was sealed away, you found yourself a spouse willing to take you, a washed up whore, into their bosom and bear children with you?”

The way he shakes his head and clicks his tongue in a dismissive manner pisses you off more than watching him crush Yuuji’s heart in his bare hand. Most of the memories of your ancestor revolve around their time as one of Sukuna’s concubines. The memories you have of their life afterwards are foggy at best, but you do remember the feeling of peace as well an overwhelming amount of bliss and mutual love their spouse gave them despite their history. It was one of the happiest moments of their life and it never once faltered even after they retold their darkest memories to their children and handed down their initial will, to always oppose the king of curses, no matter the era.

People may think it cruel, selfish even, that they did not strive to develop a better technique and pass down such a heavy responsibility to their children and their children’s children. But if there’s anything those hazy memories taught you, is that they do not regret the efforts that they did make to set themselves, and the others under his servitude, free from his tyranny. Had they submitted and gave into his whims, they would have never been blessed with their children and loving spouse.

Had they not done what they did, acted the way they did, you would not be here, opposing the king of curses within this new era of curses.

“I have never lied to you,” you repeat those now ancient words. “The least you can do is give me the benefit of the doubt before dubbing me a liar.”

It happened so fast that you question if it even happened or not. His eyebrows furrowed, the exact same manner when your ancestor severed the first of his twenty fingers on that fateful night.

When he began to approach you, you sheath your blade and returned to a neutral stance, feeling safe to do so as the previous hostile energy he exuded calms. Megumi stumbles in just in time to see Sukuna and you standing nearly chest to chest. He presses his palms together in preparation to summon one of his shikigami to provide support, but he stops his incantation when he notices that neither of you are exchanging blows anymore, though the two of you do exchange unfaltering glares towards each other that puts Megumi on edge even though he is merely a spectator in this situation.

“I am not them,” you firmly state. “This is the truth.”

Sukuna hums, dissatisfaction clear as you repeat your claim from earlier.

“It seems you weren’t lying,” he finally concedes. “Such a shame.”

With one final shrug, the black markings all over Yuuji’s chest and limbs begin to crumble until there's nothing but his unblemished skin. The sharper features his face takes on when Sukuna takes control and taints with his sigils turn back into those belonging to the typically boisterous boy.

“Hey,” his slightly raspy and confused voice greets you so genuinely.

“Hey,” you greet him back with a relieved, yet sad smile. His eyes follow yours that seemed focused on his chest and that’s when he finally notices the gaping hole as well as the lack of a beating heart and blood trail.

The grey clouds that have been gathering before you all were dropped off at the school finally begin to shed droplets of cold rain down on you. A drop lands perfectly on his face that looks indistinguishable to a shed tear. You instinctively reach out and wipe it away.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” he pouts.

“It’s alright,” you withdraw your hand away from his cold and sickeningly pale cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from him.”

He took a deep breath as if he was about to say something else, but his eyes finally go blank and his upright body gives out and falls forward. You catch him with ease and carefully set him down on the damp soil. He’s officially gone to you, yet you take extra care to cup the back of his head and gently set him down with shaking hands. As you kneel beside his stiff body, another drop falls on his face and trickles down.

You’re not sure if it’s another raindrop or the first of many teardrops that begin to spill from your tear ducts once your brain finally registers that your best friend is lying dead before you.

A week later

Yuuji is dead, yet it is as clear as the large hole in his chest that Sukuna is still living on within the body, if only barely. Ieiri, Gojo and Ijichi can’t tell, but you can. Call it yet another inherited skill or instinct, but no amount of pitiful words or comforting pats on your back from either of them are going to make you second guess yourself on this matter.

Sukuna is alive, yet for some reason he isn’t staking his claim on the body. You know he can at any moment, but it seems he’s not entirely stupid and is trying to play his cards right.

Perhaps he’s waiting for something? Maybe a certain someone instead? It wouldn’t surprise you if he has allies that are still alive and are well aware of his resurrection. It wouldn’t surprise you either if they were gathering his other fingers in his stead. Those damn things are blinking beacons for other curses, so gathering them shouldn’t be hard even for the most mediocre of cursed beings. Even when he’s made into a bunch of inanimate objects, he can still cause some amount of chaos and grief.

Damn him.

Your claim that Sukuna still lives goes from outlandish and desperate to undoubtedly true when a faint pulse of his energy brings everyone’s attention to Yuuji’s corpse and puts you all on the defensive. It was a signal, specifically for you. He wants you to come to him, within his own playing field and without the prying eyes of your superiors or the chance for any outside interference from your teacher.

Speaking of Gojo, he’s been trying to pull you away from Yuuji’s corpse and usher you out of the room for your own protection.

“He wants to talk to me,” you state the obvious to him.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” he says with finality. It’s almost adorable how he’s trying to play the role of the stern authority figure when he’s normally such an eccentric man 99% of the time. “C’mon, you need to leave.”

“Gojo-sensei,” you reach up to your shoulder that he’s tightly gripping and gently pry his hand off. “I mean no disrespect to you, or anyone at this school for that matter. But when it comes to matters regarding Ryomen Sukuna, you and the higher ups don’t know a damn thing about that monster.”

Your hand hastily reaches out and your fingertips merely graze against Yuuji’s cold and rigid skin. Just that slight contact is enough to have your surroundings shift from a stagnant and grey autopsy room to a dark and brooding domain. You blink away the dizziness from your sudden shift of reality and the first thing you notice is the pile of ox skulls. You also notice the endless rows of ribs high up in the air that further add towards the domain’s ominousness.

“I’m here!” you cup your hands around your mouth as you yell out. “The hell do you want from me you two-faced bastard?!”

“Quit screaming,” his annoyed yet strangely soft voice startles you. You abruptly turn around to meet him face to face.

“Where’s Yuuji?” you ask with command behind your infliction.

“There’s no one else but us,” he says in a poor attempt to make you drop your defensive body posture. When he notices that you aren’t relaxing, he points behind you with an annoyed glare. You turn to see nothing but the collection of dirtied animal skulls, but at the last second you see an unconscious Yuuji planted face down into the ankle deep water (blood?) at the bottom of the mountainous pile. Upon seeing the familiar tuft of pink hair, you sprint towards his unmoving body. You flip him upwards once he’s in reach, fearing he was drowning or at the very least injured in some way.

As you try to gently coax or check for any sign of life within your friend, you ignore or even fail to notice the way Sukuna observes you from behind. The boy is unconscious only due to Sukuna easily decapitating him earlier as they fought over the conditions of the binding vow he was enforcing in exchange for healing his vessel’s body and bringing him back to life. Just as he was about to uphold his end of the vow, he felt as you entered the room his vessel’s lifeless body was most definitely being stored to be later cremated.

His reaching out to you was an impulsive action on his part. He now knows that the one who stands before him is truly not you. Your energy and your descendants are near indistinguishable, so his sudden call of you was a mere force of habit and his prevailing desire to chase after you. It’s not his brightest moment, but you tend to make him act beyond what is usually his typical behavior.

As he watches your descendant talk to a half awake and delirious Yuuji, he can’t help but to examine them with a bit of awe. The one before him is your descendant of a thousand years, perhaps even more. They are your flesh and blood, and yet they retain not only your image, but even some of your memories as well. He doesn’t know what to think of this revelation, truly he doesn’t.

The only thing that’s rubbing him the wrong way is the fact that they are not a product between you and him. It’s not that he has or had any sort of unfulfilled paternal desire locked deep within him. Even if he did contemplate producing a few offspring before his temporary demise, he only wanted children for the same reason he wanted a harem, as a source of amusement that he can freely manipulate however he sees fit. Perhaps he did consider impregnating a few dozen of his concubines to see if any could birth him an heir worthy of his legacy, but the entire process was too much of a hassle that he wasn’t willing to deal with at the time. He had no pure intentions when it comes to spreading his seed into the world.

So why is he angry that you went ahead and did so without him?

“Your ancestor’s spouse,” he idly mentions in an attempt to garner their careful attention. From the way they stiffen up and look at him with that familiar glare of yours, he has it. “What were they like?”

“As if I’d tell you,” they say.

“I see you inherited their stubbornness,” he huffs with annoyance, but deep down in the deepest and most hidden parts of his mind, he feels somewhat glad that your stubbornness continues to live on in the world. “Tell me, and I’ll let you return with Yuuji-”

“Their spouse was just as stubborn as they were,” they cut him off with an immediate answer. “No matter how many times they tried to ignore or downplay their advances, they continued to chase after my predecessor until it was as obvious as the sun that they truly wanted to be together with them and make them happy.”

As he expected, their recollection of your life after him is too disgustingly domestic and romanticized for his liking. What does come at a surprise is that they completely went against their earlier proclamation of remaining silent and divulged him on the information he initially asked of you rather readily. Something must have switched in their mind. Are they trying to get back at him on your behalf by proudly stating that you lived a happy life without him?

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” they say with a smug voice. “They hated you beyond comprehension, and even if they are long gone from this world, I assure you that their hatred remains just as intense as it was when they lived.”

“Don’t be mistaken, you pathetic human,” he growls, much more angrily than normal. “I could care less who they fornicated with and how many children they produced.”

“For the self proclaimed king of curses, you sure are a terrible liar,” they say, almost pitifully. “You regret the way you treated them, don’t you? Deny it all you want, I know I’m right.”

Your last comment is the final straw. With the flick of his wrist he casts you and Yuuji out of his inner domain and back into the living world. He heals Yuuji to maintain his side of the binding vow before settling back atop his rigid throne of horned skulls. He watches through Yuuji’s eyes how the two of you squeeze each other into a firm embrace after he reawakens. When Gojo makes a comment about how Yuuji is stark naked on the metal table, he feels the immense urge to grab one of the skulls and crush it into a fine dust in his bare fist as the two of you devolve into a fit of awkward but good natured laughter at the realization.

He can’t remember a time when you ever laughed or smiled like your descendant is doing now.

Does he regret never once seeing or hearing you in such a way? Maybe.

But you’re gone, so there is no point lingering on it too much.

There’s no point in having regrets now.

Bonus

Sukuna knew it was only a matter of time before you and Yuuji solidified your relationship as a romantic one. Back in his prime, he behaved no differently than Yuuji did after he brought him back to life, straightforward and without a second thought. Ever since he stole you away from your family and home, every chance you took at defying him and damning his name into the fiery pits of hell invoked something within him. Something no other man or woman can or ever will be able to. And yet, each time he reached out to indulge himself further of you, you retreated into yourself and tried to cast him out of every corner of your mind while he tried to engrave your everything into his very being. Your behavior to his advances differ greatly from your descendant, who accepts Yuuji’s advances with an honest and willing smile.

He watches the relationship through the unsuspecting eyes of his vessel. Sometimes, he gags at how sickeningly affectionate Yuuji can be. Yet despite his behavior, your descendant drinks it all up and returns the hugs and the kisses tenfold. Nobara and Megumi often roll their eyes on the sidelines and comment on how they were practically made for each other. Sukuna can't help but silently roll his eyes as well as agree with their annoyed comments, even if it makes him incredibly irritated.

Will he ever admit to the latter? Never.

He does not regret the way things turned out between you and him. He cannot regret for the sake of his sanity. Instead, he often ponders about the possibilities. Had he not taken you from your home, could there have been a chance you and him could have been friends despite his reputation at the time? If he courted you properly instead of forcing you into his collection of common whores, could you look at him the same way your descendant looks at Yuuji, with so much love and tenderness that it makes his stomach twist into knots and the back of his throat burn? Despite being a curse who sustains himself on his pure carnal desires, could he have been selfless and put forth the efforts to make you happy?

During nights when they share a bed together, he sneaks control over the body and traces what was once your face with his black painted claws. Could you ever look so peaceful as your descendant does now if you laid beside him? Would you remain in his bed until the sun rises instead of fleeing? Would your body feel just as warm, fit just as perfectly in his embrace as your descendant does?

Sukuna does not regret the path he took. He cannot, for the sake of his sanity. He does wonder about the possibilities.

He wonders, could this descendant of yours have been his as well?

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slowpoke-fics · 3 years

Text

Calm | Mate Series

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Derek x Reader

Summary: new information comes to light, you answer a few questions, the pack cools down

Warnings: violence, past character death (reader's parents), I could be missing some but I don't think so but please read at your own risk

A/N: Previous Chapter | five | Next Chapter

And sweet, sweet, Derek didn't miss a syllable.

He let out a rumble, fighting with himself, staring down Peter, "You need to leave, we're upsetting Y/n," Derek speaks to Peter as calmly as he can, you can feel his need to protect you shine through his anger. Peter takes you in, his features softening and becoming more human as he notices the state of you. Clearly upset, an uneasiness coming off of you, no doubt because of the atmosphere that surrounds you.

"Y/n," Peter spoke softly, "I knew your parents. Please let me explain." You looked to your mate, anxious, but willing. "Fine," Derek spoke, "but the second you misstep, you're out." Derek huffed moving to take Stiles place, mindlessly placing his hands on you in an attempt to comfort you and himself. Derek let Stiles find a place next to you so he could continue to hold your hand, something that no question comforted Stiles as much as it did you.

Peter walked just a foot or two from you and Derek glared at him, but you reached a hand up to Derek to calm him as you felt him ready to attack Peter. "Y/n Y/l/n, Alpha of the Sun Crest Clan, as I live and breathe." Peter's eyes filled with sympathy as he spoke to you, "I knew your mom and dad, you had just been born when they'd realized someone was wiping the pack. We'd stayed in contact for a good while and whenever they needed anything I'd do anything I could. God, you must've been eight the last time I saw you?"

Recognition flickered over your face, you smiled, turning to Derek, "Oh I really wish I didn't hate him! I knew him when my dad was still alive!" You lifted your hand up, twisting as you beamed at Derek, excitedly hitting Derek's chest. Derek was happy to see that there is light in this, but was on guard because it was Peter.

"When I was a child, when me and my mom first went on the run, Peter, oh you'll never believe it, god I really fucking hate him," you giggled as Peter mumbled, "Alright, now, that's starting to get offensive." You took another breath, laughing still, "Peter would come visit us every now and again when I was a child, but he really helped after my dad passed."

Stiles was shocked, "Peter? Peter the I'm going to kill you all, Peter? Funny."

Derek snarled as Peter reached forward, grabbing your hand. Peter held your hand for a moment, locking eyes with you, "I want you to know, I made an oath to your mother that if anything happened, I'd take you in as my own. That oath holds true." You smiled at Peter, he kissed your hand and moved next to Malia. You smiled at Peter, "Be that man again and it's a start. You helped me and my mom, and that's enough for a chance."

"So," Liam finally spoke up, sitting not even a foot from you, "How are your eyes red?" You shrugged at that, "That one's been a stumper for me and Deaton." Everybody's eyes were still on you, causing your anxiety to spark, Derek's hand on your neck continuing to try ad sooth you. Stiles has started making some cookies as you talked. He's already heard most of this and can happily make food to lighten the mood.

"Deaton is a well respected emissary, and good at keeping secrets. He's helped me understand a lot about the Sun Crest pack, what I was meant to be and who we were." Scott smiles, he only has fond things to say about Deaton. "I could help you understand more, I was really close with your mom," you glared at Peter as he spoke, Derek making his eyes glow in an attempt to intimidate Peter. "Not like that, she was a good friend, really kept me on the right path for a few years."

Sadness filled your essence, Derek's heart pinching for a moment. "Yeah, she was a good woman, truly." You rubbed the table, "There are lots of options," you sighed, "could be that I'm the last of my line, so the power is mine," you reached up to place your hand on Derek's, "could be that I found my mate," you brought your knees to your chest, "or it could be that I've been a bear witness to two alphas making peace, which is what the Sun Crest pack does-did. Brought together rival packs, kinda like a peaceful negotiator of two alphas," you continued, sighing, "or-" Derek stopped you, "I think we get it, still learning."

Isaac looked at you, "Why hide?" Your heart twinged with pain, feeling a strong connection to your pack and not wanting to hurt anyone. "I-I don't know. I was scared, I don't know much. I do know I spent years of my life on the run from people I didn't even have a name for. I barely know anything about my line, what our packs history is-" Peter sighed, sensing your loneliness he interjected, "I know enough that I might be able to help you with some of that, your mother was a kind woman who saw the good in me, I'd be willing to talk to you about it anytime."

Derek looked at Peter, studying him, his scent, his heartbeat, and body language all speaking truth, before speaking up, "What do you know Peter?" Peter smirked at Derek, "My oath is to the little wolf, not you." You looked to Isaac first, addressing his question, "I'm sorry, I was so lost I was just doing," your eyes started darting to the rest of the pack as you sighed, "what I thought would keep everyone alive." Isaac gave you a half hearted smile, "We could've helped you, but you-" Isaac sighed, "You lied to us. Put yourself in danger. Us in danger we couldn't even see." You started twiddling your thumbs, guilt rushing you, "I did what I had to." Isaac scoffed, "What else are you lying about, I mean-" Scott stopped Isaac, "That's not fair, how many secrets have you had? Have I? Lydia? Liam? Anyone wanna jump on the high horse? We all keep secrets, this is no different." Derek put his hand on Scotts shoulder, thanking him for his support.

Stiles pulled the cookies out, smiling as Erica was first in line for several cookies. "So," Erica started, "does this mean you start training soon?" You looked to Derek, trying to tell him no. Derek smiled, his thumb gently rubbing your jawline, taking a deep breath. "Uhm," he started, "I think that Y/n can sit out if she'd like." Erica huffed, "Just wanna see if the brand new alpha can defend herself." Derek snarled, you giggled, "I promise, I'm efficiently capable." Erica glared at you playfully, then looked at Boyd asking sarcastically, "Is that a challenge?" Boyd laughed, looking to you for a moment, before muttering, "We all do things we have to, it doesn't bother me sweet cheeks." You smiled at him, as everyone else seemed to calm down.

Everyone started dissipating, you grabbed your keys and Derek put his hand on yours.

"Where do you think you're going?"

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a-shy-blueberry · 3 years

Text

Hope

A/N: Okay I sobbed writing this and I’m going to preface that this is a very triggering piece, but I wanted to put out into the world this sort of wish. In this there is a discussion of mental illness, suicidal ideation, the reader has a breakdown/ panic attack of sorts. If any of these are even potentially triggering do not continue. This is raw, please be careful

Pairing Amajiki Tamaki & Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Opening up is a difficult process but the right person can lend a shoulder to lean on.

Warnings: Aged Up Characters, No Beta, Depictions of Depression, Mental Illness, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Ideation, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Word Count 1.8k

They always talk about people who carry the sun in their eyes. Those that light up a room with their smile. The warmth they exude around them. They don't consider those that carry the moon or the stars. They still have that light they bring but it's for the quiet moments when you feel alone in the world and suddenly they're there.

It was night when you first met, you watched the night sky, only seeing a speckling of stars, but the ones that appeared shined as bright as they could. There was something about the night sky that always made your problems seem small.

He sat with you for hours that night, when your world felt like it was falling apart he'd been the starlight that guided you back. He’d been your hope.

You had been debating it for weeks, finally trying to open up again.

You couldn’t keep up a cycle of disappearing only to pretend everything was okay for the rest of your life.

You knew your mask was slipping, little hints were leaving people worried as you cried for help but desperately tried to fight it. Desperately tried to keep everything under control.

You hit send. A mental prayer going out as you prepared yourself to lose someone else.

It never mattered how much someone said they love you, everyone had limits and you couldn’t blame them when they skipped out. At least when they fell away from your life it didn’t hurt as much when they lashed out. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms trying to soothe your prickling skin as you waited, your phone buzzed and when you checked you swallowed the bile rising in your throat.

It was now or never.

Tamaki was worried about you. You’d distanced yourself from him for days now, scarcely responding to his messages. He knew you were going through something. This wasn’t unusual behavior for you but the answers you gave were vague, turning the subject around on him. So when he got your message he was already on his way before he even processed it. Bringing takeout with him in case you felt compelled to eat.

He knocked on the door of your apartment, shooting you a text to let you know it was him.

Nothing could have prepared him though for how you looked when you opened the door.

You were bare-faced, which wasn’t surprising but your eyes were rimmed red and puffy from tears.

You were dressed in an odd assortment of clothes, leggings with striped green and black socks pulled up to your thighs, an old t-shirt of his hung loosely over your frame, and a ballcap flipped backward on your head, covering up unwashed hair.

“Hey,” he started, “I brought some food,”

“Ah thank you Tamaki I’ll put this in the fridge and have some later. You went to grab the food out of his hands but he pulled it back.

“Y/N what’s going on,” Tamaki asked, his eyes narrowed as he watched you.

You just laughed一 hard and forced. “God how do I even explain it, it’s so fucking stupid,” You wiped a tear from your eye, “Like you’re going to think I’m being so silly.”

“Y/n I wouldn’t think that,”

“See you say that now, but this conversation never goes well,” he could see your eyes glistening, but you leaned your head back, willing them not to fall.

“It’s these voices in my head, they never leave me alone.” You started. Walking around the room, fingers scratching at your arms and neck. You turned to him sharply, eyes wide as tears pricked in the corners, hands defensively in front of you “I swear I’m not crazy! I know how that sounds.” Tamaki just nodded watching as you stood in front of him, your arms gesturing more dramatically as you tried to explain yourself “Like they’re me, but they’re not me. They hate me and want me to know it.”

You covered your face, eyes streaming tears, your voice barely above a whisper “Tamaki, they want me to hurt myself,” You choked on your sobs, legs shaking under you, Tamaki made his way to you, guiding you to sit on your bed.

“They want me to die, to do it myself”

Tamaki inhaled sharply, trying to come up with something to say.

“I’m scared,” the words were just slipping out now “I’m just getting so tired, and I’m petrified of myself, terrified of the day I’m too tired to fight.” You looked at him your eyes shining, so wide with a haunted look on your face,

“It’s just so exhausting. The constant whispering, they never let me have a break.” You shook your head, looking around as though you were processing where you were.

“Oh, I shouldn’t have laid all that on you,” you said scooching back from him. “I have a handle on it, so you don’t have to worry, you can forget about this” You were smiling, your lips stretched to bare your teeth as tears streamed down your face and you shook like a leaf. “I can get through this, no one has to worry about me.”

He could hear your breathing growing faster, hiccups starting as you tried to force yourself to calm down, digging your fingernails into the skin of your wrist.

“Hey,” Tamaki grabbed your wrists, smoothing a hand, over the indentations of your skin. You were hyperventilating now, the shaking growing worse.

What could he do?

Suddenly your panting stopped, you looked at him, eyes wide as you struggled against him and he realized you weren’t breathing at all. He let go immediately as you clawed your throat. He turned around, looking to your nightstand, spotting a pair of headphones, he grabbed them and turned back to you. You were pounding a fist to your chest.

“Here,” Tamaki placed the headphones over your ears plugging them into his phone.

He took your hands.

“Y/N I need you to breathe,” you looked at him, he could already the sarcastic expression primed on your tongue Oh I hadn’t thought of that, I should just breathe.

“Count with me, breathe in,” you choked out an exhale.

“Good, good that’s good now inhale,” Tamaki held up five fingers, counting down from five.

“Now hold with me,” this time, opening his fingers one at a time till he reached five.

“Now exhale with me, slowly,” he counted again.

“Just keep breathing with me,” Tamaki took measured breathes, counting in his head as he met your eyes, yours looking to his mouth as you watched him breathe.

Tamaki looked to his phone, turning on music to your headphones, a calming album he used when his anxiety was too much. When the music started you closed your eyes. Tamaki frowned, tapping your nose. You opened them to peer at him.

“Keep breathing with me,” he said, continuing to breathe.

The two of you sat there, letting the album play out. When it finished you took your headphones off, curling into yourself.

“Thank you for that, but I’m sorry for making you worry.”

“Y/n, I am going to worry about you,” you start to interrupt him but he continued over you. “You are my best friend, I’m going to worry if you trip, or if your day was okay. If you are eating enough, or if you’re studying too much.”

Tamaki took a breath, “I know it feels like you have to take all this on yourself. But you don’t, I’ll be here, and we can find a counseling service, we can do something at least to help. I know you think you have a handle on your depression but that wasn’t handling it.”

You smiled at him, “Tamaki, I do have help. I started regularly seeing a psychiatrist a few months ago, and I’m on medication to help manage this.”

“Then what just happened?”

“Well, things still happen sometimes, there’s not a magical cure-all that can fix everything, it’s a slow process I have to make the effort to work through.”

“It’s normally this bad?” he thought back to all the times you’d been withdrawn from him, saying you just felt a bit off.

“Anymore, not really, I think trying to tell you worked me up. But it used to be like this.”

Tamaki looked at you, still shocked, “How long have you struggled with this?”

"A long time.”

"And that means?"

"Long enough I can't remember what it was like, what I was like prior to it."

“So the whole time. It’s been like this the whole time,” he confirmed, scarcely believing that this is what you meant all those years ago when you first told him you were depressed. He’d brushed it off, he sympathized of course but he thought you were just sad and then you acted like you were happy and he assumed you were fine after that. But this… this wasn’t fine.

“I have a hard time letting people see the depths of what it looks like, it felt like a weakness, so I didn’t want others to know.”

“Then why did you tell me?”

You sighed, your knees coming up to hug your chest.

“Because I still had hope,” Tamaki waited, you breathed again, your voice on the edge of breaking. “I have this dream, that I’ll find someone, someone who doesn’t run away, doesn’t get defensive when I tell them. Someone, I don’t feel massive guilt for burdening them with far more than they deserve,” you paused, your eyes far off in the distance.

“But how can I ever deserve that person?” Tamaki started to speak but you took his hand, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as you continued “How can I invite people into my life when I’m terrified my existence will be short?”

“Y/n, you deserve it because you’re here, you’re still trying and holding out hope and even if you weren’t you’d still deserve it because you’re you. You are a living breathing person and therefore worthy of love. Each person you let into your life isn’t a person you’re about to hurt, they’re someone you bring joy to just by being you. So I know it feels like too much right now, and it’ll probably feel like too much again but I believe you can heal from this, you’re strong, you’ve survived this for this long.”

“How did you know just what to say?”

“I because I can sort of understand how you feel. I don’t feel the exact same way but when my anxiety gets bad, it’s a lot like what you described” Tamaki said.

You looked to him, surprised by his revelation, “How bad is it? If you don’t mind me asking.

“I get panic attacks, really bad ones where my whole body feels frozen as I hyperventilate, I usually have to do exactly what I did with you.”

“Oh,” you said “I never realized it got that bad for you,”

“I guess we were both hiding how bad things are,” he replied, his head hung low, “What a sad pair we make.”

You leaned towards him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t think so,” you looked up at him “I think I found someone that can understand my struggles through experiences of their own. And I can help them with my own experience, it makes all this shit seem pretty worth it don’t you think?”

Tamaki paused for a moment. Considering it.

“That’s not something I would’ve thought, but I think I might agree,”

You curled your feet up behind you, your eyelids growing heavy.

“Tamaki,” you started.

“Yes?”

“Have hope. Things will get better someday, I just know,” and with that, you closed your eyes, the two of you sitting together, a safe little bubble for just each other.

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#tamaki amajiki #amajiki tamaki #tamaki angst #amajiki tamaki angst #mha angst #bnha angst #suicidal ideation tw #depression tw #anxiety tw #anxiety attack tw #panic attack tw #tamaki amajiki angst

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justwonder113 · 3 years

Note

I saw that you're gonna start writing haikyuu fanfic and !!! I have a request if you don't mind. Daichi with a girlfriend (or partner if you prefer writing gn) who is usually very tough (not necessarily stoic or mean) they're pretty physically strong and generally have spent their lives looking out for themselves and everyone else(v self sacrificial... probably to an unhealthy degree) and daichi and them have a fight and they just sorta break down about how they always have to look after themselves and everyone else and how no one's ever been the one to protect them and they just want a moment where they don't feel like they have to fight all the time, perhaps ends in fluff? Idk if you like the idea I would love to read your take on it but if not that's totally cool!:)

Hi there, thank you so much for an amazing request like this it was an amazing challenge for me and I really hope you like it, I'm really sorry I haven't been able to update it earlier, it's just it turned out harder than I imagined, but I'm really glad I finished it, I really enjoyed writing it maybe it's because I know the feeling but i don't know, I hope this is what you had in mind and I hope you will like it too.

Daichi x ( f)Reader (but nothing's really implied so basically I think it's gn, have to proof read it again.)

WARNINGS:Angst to fluff, mental breakdown and anxiety attack, also a reader who isn't somfortable showing their emotional side and is more of a lone wolfs who can take care of everything by themselves.

Word cound; around 3k

You didn't even know when you started shielding yourself from everyone and everything or when was the first time you thought that you had to be the one in control of everything all strong and all, but it was part of you now definitely. You didn't think of it as something bad and you certainly didn't expect that your timidness could lead you to having an argument with your boyfriend.

For as long as you knew you were the one taking care of everything, you dealt with your own stuff and sometimes even helped others with theirs. It was always like that and at this point you just got used to it.

You liked the fact that you were this reliable, strong and independent person in the other's eyes. It made you feel better about yourself. Just knowing that people felt like they could trust you and come up to you was kind of ego boosting. It was also good knowing that there were people who looked up to you and admired you.

You were fine with keeping up this image if you knew that you made others feel at least somewhat better with your words of advice.

You knew how important it was sometimes to just let everything out but you were not like so many of your acquaintances, you couldn't just go to someone and vent out everything you had in you no matter howuch you trusted them or how approachable they were. Firstly, if you were to open up to someone you would need to have really deep trust to the said person, and secondly you just couldn't vent out because you knew how it felt like to be on the receiving end.

You loved your friends and you would move mountains for them, you really appreciated that they felt safe with you and trusted you, but sometimes being on the receiving end all the time and taking all this negativity away from them was really emotionally draining. Like some people would come up to you whining about all the drama in their lives and how miserable they were, they would let out everything and then would just leave without even asking how you were doing. You just couldn't do the same to the others no matter how much you were going through, you wouldn't burden them with your problems and all your drama. Even if it meant storing everything inside for all eternity.

Well it wasn't like you didn't want to let your emotions out and vent out everything to everyone, to let someone else help you bear this burden at least once, especially at times when you felt most vulnerable, then dealing with all this seemed impossible, whenever you were so stressed that it was affecting your lifestyle, you couldn't eat drink or sleep normally. Or whenever everything seemed to pile to the point that you felt this horrible tightness in your chest area, when your stomach was swirling nonstop and you felt claustrophobic, when your breathing was shaggy and your mind was foggy yet wouldn't stop working and kept coming up with all those unnecessary thoughts. Those were the times when you truly felt that no matter how strong and capable you were you didn't want to be alone. You didn't want to be this strong person for just this moment, you didn't want to be the one in control you wanted to be the one taking cared of and being pampered. You wanted to just let go knowing that someone was there to listen to you, to hold you when you finally fell apart.

You thought that maybe you were shielding everyone from this side of you, you didn't want to burden them, you didn't want to come as overbearing and maybe you were shielding yourself from them too, because what if others found you annoying, too weak, fragile and unable to take care of everything. Maybe they would find out that, in the end, you were nothing special, you were too pain and just not worth it, so it was a perfect defence mechanism.

You weren't doing anything wrong right? So then why was it the reason you got in the fight with your boyfriend? Why was something that was meant to protect you this much pain? And why couldn't you say anything even after this? Why were you still terrified of speaking up? You were talking about Daichi whom you trusted with your whole life. A man who was willing to be with you trhough thick and thin. You didn't know anyone else who was more reliable and kind or sweet like him. You felt thankful everyday that you had him by yourside, he made almost everyday better for you.

Maybe that's why you were so afraid to speak up? That he was so perfect? Maybe after seeing this side of yours he would realize how much more he deserved. He would realize how flawed you actually were and that you were not worth all this trouble and that terrified you. You were most definitely not ready to end things with him, not that you were thinking that you would ever be. Daichi was the one thing you wanted constantly in your life, you were hundred percent sure of it. He was really precious and dear to you even though he didn't really believe you now.

You felt that you were slowly losing control over yourself and gripped yourself tighter, to make you feel more safe. It felt like the walls were closing down on you and you felt claustrophobic even though you were on the balcony and the chilly wind was hitting you in the face. Your whole body was trembling but not from the cold weather or your chilly out of place attire. You felt numb like there was nothing inside you, only this heavy thing on your chest and all this thoughts that were only making things worse.

What was the time even? You lost track of it trying to regain yourself, it had to be really late, as you watched horizon you noticed that sun would soon start to rise, you stayed up all night huh? Daichi would wake up soon too to go to work too, how could you avoid him then? You didn't know what to tell him, what to do. You coudln't even go to bed, to lay next to him, you felt guilty because you knew that as much as you had your reasons to act this way he had them too and he also was in pain because of you, because he thought that you didn't trust him and didn't love him enough. You felt terribly guilty because you couldn't even manage to say anythin after he opened up to you, after he showed you his vulnerable side. Daichi wasn't the one to openly talk about his emotions so you knew what it cost him too. You hated yourself so much for it.

You couldn't really stop the tears at this point, any second now you would fall apart and you didn't even know if you would be able to pick yourself up before he woke up.

"Y/N?" You heard a deep grumble making you jump. You looked back to see your boyfriend looking at you with wide eyes. In seconds he was next to you wiping your tears away, scanning your face carefully. "You're freezing! What are you doing here? Didn't you go to sleep? What about your clothes? Where is your robe? You will catch a cold!" He kept mumbling to himself while rubbing your cheeks gently, he looked completely awake now. How did he care about you so much after you hurt him this bad, how did he not leave? Why was he so worried about you? Were you really worth it? Why did he really love you? So many whys were piling up in your head.

You felt this tightness against your heart and you doubled over holding your chest tightly. The sobs kept breaking our from your mouth and your whole body was shaking uncontrollably. Daichi immediately took you in his arms and took you inside sitting you both on the bed and wrapping a blanket around you to at least somehow warm your freezing body. His large hands immediately found their place around you as he helped you sit on his lap, rubbing soothing circles there and there to help you calm down whilest murmuring against your neck to just keep breathing.

"I'm here love, you're safe, you can let it all out." He mumbled and placed a kiss on your shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere... You're safe, I'm here with you." You continued sobbing you couldn't really stop now, it was as if the dam was finally broken, you couldn't really hold anything in even if your life was on the line Daichi was the only one grounding you. Thankfully Daichi didn't even think of letting go, he held you in his arms and let you let everything out. It felt like you've been crying for hours, eventually fatigue must have taken over because the next thing you saw was total darkness.

When you opened up your eyes the first thing you noticed was the brightness, it must have been at least noon now. The next thing was two arms still being tight around your frame. Your head was still on Daichi's shoulder. He must have moved you both because both of you were under a blanket now, still in yesterday's attire. You felt a bit sore, but that must have been from sitting for hours on the balcony. Your head hurt like crazy, it felt like you had one of the worst hangovers, you could swear you could hear slight ringing.

"Are you awake love?" Daichi asked quietly to check if you were really awake, he shifted slightly groaning quietly, it made you jolt up which was a bad decision because your head hurt even more now.

"Were you like this all night? God I'm sorry it must have been so uncomfortable!" You felt guilty seeing that he spent all night sitting against bed frame having you in his lap. It must have been really uncomfortable.

"It's fine, I didn't really want to let you go. How could I, I think it was the first time I have ever seen you cry. It scared the hell out of me when I saw that you were not in the bed and then it scared me even more when I saw that you were on the verge of breaking down on the balcony at 4am. How are you feeling now?" He took your hand in his and looked at you expectantly. You froze, it was what you were afraid of, you made him worry so much and he saw how pathetic you could get, on top of it you made him spend whole night like that just because he felt responsible of you. "Okay I can hear gears in your head shifting and based on your look right now I'm pretty sure you're thinking unnecessary stuff. Just don't hold back talk to me, please?" He looked at you with pleading eyes, squeezing your hand tighter.

"I made you worry, and you spent the whole night holding me in that uncomfortable position all because I couldn't hold it in and was weak." You mumbled in shame.

"Who said that I thought you were weak?" Daichi asked and he honestly looked dumbfounded.

You took a deep breath and looked away. "I'm saying it, I hate it when I can't control my emotions and act like a whiny crybaby. I hate whenever it happens, and everything seems out of my control, and I especially hate it there's another one to witness it. I don't want people to see how weak I am." You finally said it and looked down in shame wrapping your hands tighter around your frame. You looked up when Daichi pinched both of your cheeks and inspected your face again. "Ow Dai what are you doing?" You whined.

"Had to make sure you were human and not a robot." He smiled at you and kissed your hand. " I will tell you a secret, I have never thought that you were at least somewhat close to being weak, in fact you're probably one of the strongest people I have ever met. I admire you, I really do. You're so strong, confident, this powerful person whom everyone loves and admires including me." He placed another kiss on your temple, "you don't know how proud I am to be called your boyfriend! And I don't see this habit of yours as something bad, I was out of line yesterday and I really hurt you saying that you don't trust me or love me, it was never my intention to make you worry this much and seeing you in that shape because of me really broke my heart. I know you trust me and I know you love me, you never fail to make me realize it. You're always there for me whenever I need it, through thick and thin, you always know what goes in my mind and always help me with whatever you can, I can't really count how many times you have helped me. You make every day brighter for me and I can't help but feel thankful that I have you. You don't have to worry about it okay? It's just that I got insecure and it really got to me that's why I was on edge yesterday and provoked an argument." He rubbed his neck sheepishly when he noticed that you were dumbfounded, he took a deep breath to continue. " It's just that seeing you being all reliable and approachable made me question if I was doing at least remotely good job being there for you too, you're always doing everything on your own like you don't need anyone else to do what's needed and I was worried that you would realize that you didn't really need me. I guess it was my own way of saying that I needed some sort of confirmation." He rubbed his neck looking away from you, "I know you're capable of taking care of yourself and that you don't like showing your vulnerable side, that's completely understandable but you're a human too. You shouldn't just hold everything in, you have to let it out at some point and I want to be there for you when that happens. I like that you're always there for others, for me but I don't want you to forget about yourself, I want you to think about yourself more. You're amazing, the most amazing human being and I thank the stars everyday that I met you. But when I see you struggling hut still trying to shrug it off to play it off because you don't want to burden anyone or just because you're not used to asking for help really breaks my heart. I can't bear to imagine that something like yesterday can happen again. I've known you for years and no matter how much you try to hold it in I notice when you're struggling. I know you have been stressed a lot these days, you don't eat nor sleep like you used too and there's also some other signs. I wanted to give you time, you would approach me when you felt like it but when you never did I started questioning whether or not was I a reliable partner for you. Now I realize I was just feeling pretty and how much my words actually hurt you." He leaned his forehead on yours, "I'm sorry love." Listening to all this you could feel your your eyes start to water up but somehow you didn't really feel the urge to bring yourself together asap, you felt oddly comfortable.

"Have I ever told you that even tears look best on you? God how am I so lucky?" Daichi teased you and started littering your face with kisses making a smile break from you. You smiled fondly as you started to play with his hair, Daichi only hummed in appreciation. "Man, how am I so lucky?"

"Shut up, you're being sappy." You tested, Daichi grinned.

"I'm not the one in love with a sappy person," his eyes tingled with mischief.

"Well, I can't deny that, it's very much true." You purred and gave him a kiss, "I'm helplessly in love with a sap, who is the most amazing boyfriend, he's the most loyal, kind, dependable and amazing person, who makes me happy every day. I trust you the most and I know that I can count on you any time of any day. I didn't approach you because I didn't want to affect the mood, your life has been going on great and I didn't want ro ruin your good mood. I also knew that part of my problems were caused by me so I wasn't really in the mood to talk about it and I knew I had to be one to take care of everything, well I thought I could. Mostly I didn't want you to think I'm weak, I'm not that confident and powerful and I have many flaws I was kind of afraid you would see it and realize that you deserve better" you sniffed and rubbed You nose, you felt vulnerable, it felt as if you were naked and were showing yourself to Daichi, every word was stained and forced and it made you really uncomfortable but you wanted him to know everything, he deserved it. Daichi gripped your hand tighter to encourage you. "It's just I've been dealing with everything on my own since I remember, it was always me, at first it was really lonely but when people started noticing my independence and resourcefulness I kinda grew into it, it was like a confidence booster, but after that when I really needed help, when I was unable to come up with solutions I found it impossible to ask for help. I'm supposed to be strong I'm supposed to be smart so why am I asking for help to others? Can't I deal with this? I just can't find the power to go up to others even when I know that it's most reasonable thing. I know I can rely on you and you don't realize how much of a breather it's for me, and you help me in so many ways and I think you don't even realize that. I'm trying to say that I will try better and I will make sure to get over this problem but I will need time, but please remember that I really love you and I trust you with my life and I will do my best to make sure you know it okay?" You were amazed, it felt like something lifted of your chest and Daichis smiling face only made the feeling stronger. Tears were still streaming down your face but you didn't really care, this was who you were and you wanted to show it to him.

"You're not perfect love and you will never be" your heart skipped a beat at Daichi's serious tone, you felt terrified because it felt like the moment you dreaded the most, you knew he loved you but you also knew he was one of the reasonable guys, "the word is already flawed because nothing in this world is perfect, not you, not me and not everyone and not everything. Everything has it's flaws I have them as much as you do. You don't need to be perfect and you don't need to work yourself to fix your flaws. You are who you are and that's why I love you, I love everything about you including this so called weak side of yours. I love that you strive to be the best but I don't like that you're bringing yourself down to achieve it. You're amazing, you're capable, you're kind and you're smart and god you're so beautiful both on the inside and outside. I think I'm lucky I'm even breathing the same air as you, " he smiled cheekily at you making you giggle. "I want to say that you don't need to fix anything this is who you are and I love and support you, but if you want to improve I'm here and I will help you every step of the way. I will be always there for you, you don't even have to tell me anything just somehow point to me that you need me and I will do my best, we can talk about it for hours or we can just sit in silence for the whole night but you will know that I'm with you, just please don't be afraid to approach me, I will never judge you and I will never turn my back on you. In fact" Daichi got up and went to one of the drawers only to take out small box and return to you. You looked up at him with wide eyes. " I didn't plan on giving you this het because I wanted to plan this romantic evening but I think it's a good idea to give it to you now. Y/n you're the love of my life, and as cheesy as it sounds you're my sun, my moon and my stars, you make me feel more alive than I ever was and you just make everything better. I can't promise you a wedding or something in the near future but I want to give you this to let you know how serious I am about you and this relationship. I want to give you this as a sign that I will be there for you and I will love you till the rest of my days. I love every part of you and I want to help to teach you how to love them too." He put the box on your palm after he finished speaking, you were speechless, and torn between wanting to jump on him and drown him with kisses and proclamations of your love and curiosity of the box. You opened the box to find that beautiful ring you were eyeing few weeks ago when you went out with Daichi.

"I think I fell for you harder." You mumbled still in shock, you stared ar your new ring with lovesick eyes, which by the way sat perfectly on your fingers.

"well look who's being a sap now," Daichi grinned and kissed the hand you put your ring on. "But either way it's good because since I didn't go to work today I demand my cuddles now and I expect to be given them now, few kisses would be nice too." You giggles and got closer to him.

"Aww is my babyboy feeling needy?"You teased but still started kissing his face, Daichi smiled and nodded his head, holding you by the waist tightly. You smiled and got closer to him, everything felt just perfect. He really was your safe heaven.

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