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evermorecountsastherapy · 1 year

Text

❁ a gentle reprieve ❁

pairing: cardinal copia x fem!reader (can also be considered GN, though feminine pet names are used predominantly throughout)

warnings: hurt/comfort, heavy angst, anxiety attacks, a lil smut at the end as a treat, (still nsfw 18+, MDNI please) lots and lots of fluffy stuff

~4600 words

a/n: I wrote this a little while ago during a particularly rough go-around of the Big Sads as a way to make myself feel better, and I had originally planned for it to never leave the confines of my notes app but if there's a chance it makes someone out there in the void smile, then I figure it's worth it setting it free (also as a side note, this is my first time writing smut so I apologize if it's not the greatest lol)

Enjoy! :)

picture taken from pinterest

I can't do this.

Four little words that had insistently rattled around in your head all throughout the day seemed so much larger now that the sun had gone down and you were alone in the darkness. Over and over, the little voice in your head screamed them at you, almost as if it were willing you into proving it wrong.

Had this happened two months ago, you would have easily put up the fight against it and gracefully done just that: prove it wrong.

Just like you always had.

But now...

The shallow pool of water that had dripped off your body and surrounded your feet felt colder than ice, and you didn't need to look down to know that your toes were undoubtedly blue because of it. The mess normally would have bothered you, never being one to cause any kind of disorderliness in their wake, so long as you could help it.

Instead, you felt numb to the droplets that collected in the ends of your wet hair and dripped intermittently onto the wood floor beneath you. Freezing as they were, you couldn't bring yourself to move from where you stood naked in the middle of the dark bedroom, your arms wrapped around your chest and your nails digging into your exposed shoulders. You had no idea how long you'd been standing there; you only knew that you couldn't move.

After you'd come home from work, you'd made a beeline for the shower, finally letting the frustrated tears you'd held back all day flow along with the stream of the water. You'd sobbed, your hands unable to do anything but shake as you held your face in them.

I can't do this. I can't. I can't.

There was no end it, this emptiness you felt within. It came and went without warning or reason, eating away at you slowly each time it decided to stay. Staring at a blank wall in your room, you could feel as it brutally tore into your heart yet again; that seemed to be its favorite place to strike. You couldn't decide if you wanted to scream or cry. Either one took energy you didn't have, so you did nothing.

Ican'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan't

The silence that filled the room only made the thoughts in your head grow louder. There was a war wanting to be fought within you, but your forces had already been depleted. Only you stood against the enemy, the field behind you where hundreds of soldiers once stood ready to defend you in times like these now completely barren. You watched as the opposing side charged toward you, unable to move from where you stood alone. Even when their bullets pierced your heart and their blades reopened the scar wounds from past battles, you didn't move.

You are worthless! They screamed in your face, unsurprisingly in a voice much like your mother's.

You'll never be good enough! What can't you see that? Another slash against your skin.

You will fail, and they will never let you forget it. Why don't you just give it up? Another bullet buried itself into your chest.

You could feel the pain the words caused in their wake, but you didn't react. You didn't fight back. What was the point?

You felt a numbness fall over you then, stronger now than any other time before. You were helpless to its pull from where you stood, shivering in the moonlight coming in from your window. It was comforting, even in it's coldness, but you'd accept anything at this point.

What you wouldn't give for the earth to swallow you whole. Just to make it all stop, if only for a minute.

Too absorbed in your thoughts, you hadn't heard the door creak open to your apartment two rooms over. Even when a familiar voice rang out through the small space calling out your name, you never so much as startled. You knew who it was just by his cadence on the squeaky wooden floorboards but you were helpless to look over your shoulder at the doorway to greet him. It felt like your body had been frozen into the place where you stood, your feet permanently stuck to the ground beneath you.

"Mia amata, sei a casa?" He called, and you could hear him flipping on lights as he quickly approached the room you were in.

The footsteps stopped when they reached your door frame and you could feel his eyes burning into your exposed backside without having to look at his face.

When Copia first noticed the state in which you were standing in the darkened bedroom, he couldn't help but smile at what he first assumed the implication of your nakedness suggested, the thrill of the little surprise already warming his body.

But as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized you had yet to react to him entering the apartment, something you had never done before. It seemed to Copia that you had a sixth sense for detecting when he was near, never failing to drop everything you were doing and run into his arms the minute he passed through the doorway. But you stood completely still before him, your arms clutched around your body in a makeshift hug.

Something was definitely wrong.

"Mia amata? What are you doing?" He asked gently, slowly walking over to where you stood and placing a leather-gloved hand on your shoulder.

When you didn't answer, he dropped his voice to an even lower octave and asked, "Are you alright?"

This seemed to break the spell on you, your hands detaching themselves from your shoulders to cover your face as a fresh wave of despair washed over you. Copia could feel your body begin to violently shake as you held your face in your hands and though he knew you were crying, no sound save for little desperate gasps of air escaped your lips. Instantly, he rushed around to stand in front of you, taking your hands in his.

You wanted so badly to be alright and to be able to nod your head in response to his heartfelt question, but your body had already betrayed you, your head shaking from side to side in defeat.

"Oh, amorina," he started, his heart crumbling upon seeing your anxiety-ridden visage. He pulled you into his chest, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other gently holding the back of your head as you pressed your face over where his heartbeat under his suit jacket.

When he felt your body finally relax in his embrace, he began stroking your wet hair and rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back.

"It's okay. I'm here. You're safe, let it all out." He murmured in between kissing the top of your head. This only made you cry harder, gripping the front of his shirt like a lifeline.

The two of you stood like this for what felt like forever and at some point, you noticed Copia had started to sway gently from side to side with you in his arms. You felt a familiar warmth blossoming in your chest at the simple act, steadying your breathing a bit.

"You are freezing, my love. I'm going to get a towel for you, I'll be right back." Copia whispered against the shell of your ear and before you could think to protest against him leaving, he had darted into the bathroom attached to the bedroom. But he was back before you had a chance to think, a fluffy purple towel and one of his fuzzy black robes in hand.

He threw the robe over his shoulder, holding the towel with both hands and ringing out your dripping hair with it before wrapping it around the top half of your body. He started to gently rub and pat at every area of your body, starting with your arms and then moving down from your torso to your legs.

When he reached your knees, he knelt on the ground in front of you, a kind of devotion in his body language that only you could see from where you looked down upon him.

He must have felt you staring because he looked back up at you then, his hands now working the towel around you calf.

"You like the view, mia regina?" He asked, a smirk gracing his lips. You were just about to smile back at him when his eyebrows suddenly drooped and his smile faded, dark eye sockets amplifying the regret that now lingered in his visage. "Mi dispiace, amore. Ignore me, it is not the right time for such things."

You felt guilt begin to creep into you at his apology, making your heart ache at his sad expression. You hated worrying anyone, especially him. The love you felt for him was insurmountable and seeing him remorseful over something you had both easily joked about many times before nearly made you want to start crying again. Moving your fingers to tangle in his hair, you managed a soft smile for him.

"I love the view, my love." You said, your voice a near whisper. "Please don't apologize for that. You know I love it when you say things like that to me." Your fingers played with his soft hair all throughout, feeling less guilty when his expression changed into a more relaxed one. He smiled up at you again before leaning into your legs and kissing the front of your thigh where his face was now level with, his eyes never leaving yours. If you hadn't known him so well, you wouldn't have caught the hint of lust that danced in his eyes, causing you to feel a familiar blush creep into your cheeks.

Before it could go any further, however, he slowly got back up on his feet, groaning softly under his breath at what you knew was a painful soreness in his knees. Another wave of guilt washed over you at this, suddenly feeling embarrassed for the state he had come home to you in after a long day's work. He certainly wasn't getting any younger and him having to take care of pitiful old you wasn't going to help him in the slightest.

Tossing the towel toward the bathroom door, he took the bathrobe off of his shoulder and held it out in front of you. Spinning around, you allowed him to place the robe gently over your shoulders, instinctively reaching back to slip your arms through the armholes. You were just about to close the front and tie the rope around your waist when he stopped you, moving to press himself flat against your back and nuzzling his face into the side of your neck, his side burns tickling your ears. He guided your arms back down to your sides, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling the robe snug around your waist before tying the rope once around your midsection. You looked down at where his hands now lay flat against your stomach, his head snaking farther around your shoulder to kiss your cheek softly. You hummed in appreciation, a smile now easily forming on your lips.

As precious as the moment was, your mind didn't let you enjoy it for long before it once again was sent in a panic, this time for a whole new set of reasons.

"Copia, I'm so sorry," You started, already feeling the tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. "I didn't mean for you to come home to all of this. I just... I don't know. I woke up feeling like there was this... this cloud hanging over my head and I thought I would've been able to shake it by now but..." You tried to explain, your brain unable to form a coherent thought.

"Shhh, dolcezza," he whispered in your ear, holding your body tightly against his. "There is no need to apologize, I am here to take care of you. You are allowed to have a bad days, do not ever feel shame in that."

You shook your head at his words, hating yourself for not fully believing them. Copia had never been anything but completely honest to you, but it still felt strange letting him see you so vulnerable and weak, something you had yet to let him witness up until that point. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"You probably have so much work to do, you don't need to spend the night fussing over me." You whispered, tears running down your cheeks and heart speeding up just at the thought of it all. "And I have an exam tomorrow afternoon to study for, and I haven't even started making dinner yet and you're probably starving and..." Your voice trailed off into a frenzied panic, squirming slightly in his arms.

The words flying from your mouth broke his heart. Here you were, having what looked to be one of the worst anxiety attacks he had ever seen you have and you were still worrying about taking care of him. How could he make you understand that you meant as much of the world to him as he did to you?

"Mio sole, vita mia, tesoro mio," He spun you around to face him, gently cupping your face in his gloved hands. "You are my everything. Please, let me take care of you, as you do for me so often. Let me make us dinner, tonight and every other night I am able. I know you love cooking for me, but you forget I also love cooking for you. That I also love taking care of you. What we have," he reached his left hand down to thread his fingers through yours, "is by no means one-sided. I want to be your shoulder cry on, as well as your lover. As well as anything else you need me to be. Just like you are for me."

Tears freely streamed down your cheeks as you processed his words. They were so heartfelt and genuine, nestling their way into your heart and causing it to all but glow with pure joy and love. You reached your hand up to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb along his stubbly chin. It was then you noticed he also had tears in his eyes and you briefly let go of his hand to swipe one away before it got a chance to run down his face.

"Oh Copia, what would I do without you?" You smiled as you lovingly gazed into his mismatched eyes. He simply nuzzled into your hand on his cheek at the declaration, kissing the inside of your wrist softly.

It was answer enough for you: he needed you as much as you needed him.

"Let's get you to bed," he said quietly, standing up straighter and pulling you into him once again. You glanced over his shoulder at the alarm clock glowing on his bedside table. 7:38.

"But Copia, it's barely even eight-" Your protests were halted by his hands gripping your waist and his strong arms lifting you up to throw you over his shoulder. One hand stayed on your upper back while he placed the other on your rear protectively. "Copia! What are you doing?" You exclaimed, a squeal of delight erupting from your throat.

"Carrying mia regina to bed because she should not have to walk anywhere herself." He said simply, playfully squeezing his hand on your ass and making you jump slightly.

"Hey!" Was all you could manage to get out in protest before Copia approached the side of your shared bed, reaching down slightly to pull back the comforter and swinging you around to hold you between both arms before gently setting you down on the soft mattress. The entire act was quick and unusually graceful for him but you had little time to ponder this further because as soon as he had set you down, he jumped onto the bed to hover above you on all fours, his face inches from yours.

"La mia bella ragazza," He whispered to you before leaning in and capturing your lips in his in a tender kiss. Before you had the chance to deepen it, like you so wished you could have, he tragically pulled away. "Tell me what troubles you. Tell me how I can make it all better." He said, brushing a piece of damp hair off your face.

You didn't like that he was returning this after he had done such a good job of getting you to almost forget about it, whether that was intentional or not. But you supposed this was something you needed to get out in the open, as bottling it up obviously wasn't making it much better.

You tried your best to search for the words to explain it without sounding completely pathetic but ended up unsuccessful. Instead, you sat there while he frantically searched your eyes for an answer instead, seemingly understanding your struggle.

"Is it something at work? School?" He asked, and you nodded to his second question. "Is it exams?" You shook your head. "That program application?" You nodded, eyes sinking to look at your hands resting in your lap, your vision beginning to grow blurry with the onset of fresh tears forming in your eyes.

He flipped off of you then, moving to sit beside you on his side of the bed. He pulled you into his body, resting his head on the headboard behind you.

"Mia amata, you worry yourself so much over that. Why?" He asked as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"You know why. It's all I've ever wanted. If I don't get in... I don't know what I'll do." Your voice trailed off toward the end, and you could feel the little voice in your head waking up again for round two.

He slightly pulled away from you then, turning to face you fully and placing his forehead against yours, reaching his arm across to grip the outside of your thigh reassuringly. The tip of his broad nose brushed against yours, the feeling making the butterflies in your stomach wake up and take flight.

"I've said this before and I'll say it a million times over again: you are one of the most dedicated, persistent, and loyal people I have ever met. You might not always openly display it, but you have a heart of pure gold. And that is for good reason; there are many people who are not deserving of your love. Never before have I met someone as willing to care for others as you are. And you are someone who genuinely enjoys doing it, too. And that's not even to mention how smart you are. If the idiots on that committee board in charge of judging students are so blind as to not see this, then that will be their loss, not yours, mia amata." He said, never once stopping to think about his next words. They flowed so easily from his heart to his mouth, proof of their genuinity.

"And your beauty..." He said almost breathlessly, his hand now gently rubbing the outside of your thigh, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's as if you were perfectly molded and shaped by Lucifer himself. Assolutamente divino..." His hand now began roving up under your bathrobe to your hip and waist before slowly making it's way back down again toward your inner thigh, the smooth leather of his gloves surprisingly warm.

His words left you teary-eyed and emotional, whereas his ministrations dried them just as quickly, leaving in their wake an aching need for him. Even still, something inside you began to heal with his simple words and his unfaltering love for you. It put your anxious mind at ease for the first time that day, allowing you to give your full attention to the way your lover was making you feel.

"Copia..." You said, your voice near a whisper. His hand was warming your body up unlike any bathrobe ever could and you were sure he sensed this, his hand becoming braver in it's explorations and moving closer toward the bare apex of your thighs. You were so entranced by the feel of his gloves against your exposed skin that you gasped when he suddenly placed the tips of his fingers exactly where you wanted them, beginning to rub in small circular motions.

You tipped your head back slightly and you closed your eyes as his hand moved farther down to meet your entrance, the stimulation on your sensitive nerves almost becoming too much. Without warning, he slowly slipped his middle finger into you, which dutifully released a desperate moan from where it was caught in the back of your throat. A light-headed feeling came over you as he began pumping the finger into you at a slow and rhythmic pace, his thumb torturing you by massaging the sensitive bud just above your folds once again.

It was times like these that reminded you of how talented a musician he was, especially when it came to the guitar. With the way his fingers worked their magic, you felt more like his beloved cherry-red Fender than a person, his skilled hands strumming your most private parts just so. He could hit every note with fluid grace, and that certainly didn't just apply to the guitar. From the smile you felt on his lips as he kissed the corner of your mouth, you guessed he was well aware of this.

Just as you felt your arousal begin to grow in intensity, he skillfully slid his ring finger into you to meet his other one, both of them pumping into you at speed fast enough to make your head spin. You could feel the start of an intense orgasm building rapidly behind your navel and you were certain you wouldn't be able to last much longer at this pace. As if he could sense this, Copia increased the pressure on your clit, his fingers curling around that sweet spot inside of you.

It was enough to push you over the edge, your entire body shaking as you let out a particularly lewd moan. Your arms reached for his in your desperation for some kind of stability, your forehead pressing against his as you came down from the intense experience. Your lungs only allowed you to take small, sudden intakes of air as you finally regained the ability to open your eyes again, a mismatched pair staring right back into yours. The pupil in his green one was blown wide, while the white one seemed to shine with the intensity of his arousal. It only made your need for him even stronger, if such things were even possible.

You were about to lean in to catch his lips in yours when he suddenly pulled his fingers out from where they were still buried within you, bringing them up between both your faces before proceeding to slide both of them into his mouth. His eyes never left yours as he sucked on them, tasting your arousal. The sight was enough to make you gasp softly, a warm blush creeping into your cheeks.

When he was satiated of this, he pulled his fingers out of his mouth and reached his hand to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in to meet his eager lips. He kissed you with such fervor that you felt like you were all but drowning in it, his tongue tangling in yours between your open mouths while his fingers twisted themselves in your hair. You never wanted it to end.

But to your disappointment, it did, and he pulls away from you slowly, as if he is also reluctant to draw away from you. Your eyes open to meet his intense gaze yet again.

"Jesus fuck, you're so beautiful," you breathed, your one hand searching for his blindly on the mattress. You eventually found it, your fingers weaving themselves into place between his. The compliment came easily to your lips, the truth in it felt within every fiber of your being. He was beautiful, and it never failed to captivate you entirely.

You could see the way your words affected him when an adorably bright pink blush grew upon his cheeks and he raised the hand you had clasped in his to press his lips to the back of it in appreciation.

"As are you, mia amata. Though I do hope Jesus is not in the room with us now. That would be incredibly awkward." He said this with a playful smile, glancing back over his shoulder as if to check if he was actually standing there. You couldn't help but giggle at his silly little joke, your chest growing warm with the love you felt for him in that moment.

"I love you, Copia," you said, your voice sounding soft in the quiet room.

"And I love you, too, mia regina. So, so very much." He pressed another kiss into the back of your hand and you couldn't stop the smile that formed naturally on your lips as a result of the sentiment. "Are you feeling a little better now?" He asked. You nodded, pulling your hand away from his lips to kiss the back of his hand.

"Yes, so much better. I love how you know just how take such good care of me, mio re," you tell him between kisses, and you mean every word. Your mind, as well as your body, felt much more at ease, and you were once again amazed by how he was able to know just what you needed before you even figured it out yourself. Now, all you could think about was returning the favor, the heat pooling in your stomach once again at the thought as you pulled him closer into you, reaching your other hand to slide down his side and brush along his strong thigh to finally rest at the bulge in his tight suit pants.

God, did his suits ignite something in you. And it didn't help that he had chosen to wear your favorite that day: the sinfully tight crimson one. The black one was a close second, but it was the red one that got you every time. This was yet another thing you were sure he was well aware of, considering how often it was in with the laundry.

"As much as I would love to stay here all night and fuck you senseless, mia amata," he near growled in your ear, your ministrations clearly affecting him much more than he was letting on, "I have dinner to make and you have an exam to study for. I won't be long, and if you'd like, we can study together when I'm done. Would you like me to make you some tea or hot cocoa?"

You nodded, smiling at his words. "I would really like that. Tea sounds lovely, thank you."

"Anything for mia regina. I will be back in a little bit. You take this time now to relax, si? I will bring you your books." He said, swinging his legs around and off the bed before standing up and leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

You nodded, gazing at him lovingly. He gazed back at you, a soft smile reaching his lips and forming two rare little dimples in the corners of his cheeks. The sight nearly made you internally combust.

As he turned from the bed to walk back through the doorway toward the kitchen, you thought about how lucky you were to have him in your life. Laying your head back against your pillows and closing your eyes, your heart swelled with your love for him, your worries now dissipating into nothingness.

Whatever happened, you knew you would always have this love for him burning inside you, and that alone was enough for you to finally build up the courage to stand before that voice in your head and say:

No, actually.

I can.

#cardinal copia x female reader #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader #copia x female reader #copia smut #cardinal copia #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #evermore writes

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grapenehifics · 3 months

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Prisoner 224

I really loved writing Out of Sync for @fulcrum843's @topwan-obikin fest prompt, but fully intended it to be a one-shot until @somethingsteff started feeding me ideas and, well, I'm limited on free time right now so this is still only a ficlet but I couldn't help myself.

If you don't know the fic, the Council finds out about Obi-Wan and Anakin's relationship and they quit the Order. Anakin punches Palpatine when he insults Obi-Wan and gets sent to jail, and Obi-Wan hurries to hit the Chancellor as well so they can stay together. This also fulfills @ficwip's Hey Sweetheart challenge!

Text under the cut:

“Where are we going?” Anakin demanded. His hands were bound at the wrists in front of him, which didn’t make him look very threatening, but he gave his best glare to the backs of the heads of the troopers escorting him down the hall anyway.

Neither the troopers ahead of him nor the two at his back answered him. Their little group just kept marching along.

“I demand to know where you’re taking me,” Anakin tried, not pausing in his forward march but flexing his fingertips in preparation. He didn’t want to use the Force against them – besides the fact that they were probably just acting on orders from someone higher up the prison management chain of command, he was also pretty sure even something mild like knocking four guards out for a few hours would get his sentence extended and that was the opposite of what he wanted considering Obi-Wan was already slated to get out weeks before he did – but he also was not planning on taking a move to another cell block without putting up some sort of a fight.

He and Obi-Wan were kept apart for most of the day – Anakin in his cell and Obi-Wan in his – but because they were part of the same cell block, they were allowed to take both their exercise hour and their meal break together, Anakin holding Obi-Wan’s hand clasped in his as they jogged around the exercise track in their prison-issued tracksuits and rubbing elbows as they sat side-by-side with their dinner trays (and this only because they’d been told off for trying to sit on each other’s laps instead). But it was still a far sight better than not getting to see him at all, and Anakin hadn’t even done anything wrong (lately) and so really didn’t deserve to be punished like this.

“I want to go back to my cell,” he said.

“One of my batchmates is serving under Commander Cody in the 212th,” the trooper behind Anakin on his right said through his helmet vocoder. “CT-3812.”

“Sure. Punch, right?” Anakin said easily. “Yeah, I know him. But what has that got to do with anything?”

“That’s him,” the trooper agreed. None of the prison guards had ever told Anakin their names, just their badge numbers, although not for lack of asking. This one was one of the supervisors. Some of the younger guys were so green they had five-digit designations. “He’s met General Kenobi a few times.”

“Cool. So have I,” Anakin nearly growled. “That’s who I’m trying to get back to. So if you could just put me back in my cell, that’d be great. Or at least tell me what I’ve done.”

“Punch tells me he’s a real stand-up guy,” the trooper continued, as if Anakin hadn’t spoken. “Always makes sure his men have enough to eat. Doesn’t take unnecessary risks. That sort of thing.”

They rounded a corner. Anakin was starting to get desperate. “Just tell me where we’re going,” he practically begged. “I can call in a couple of favors and get myself reassigned back to Obi-Wan’s floor”-

“Punch also said,” the trooper on Anakin’s right said, so loudly he was almost shouting in Anakin’s ear, “that one time you and your troops joined up with their battalion, you threw yourself in front of a blazer bomb. Saved the lives of fifteen men.”

Anakin had done that enough times that that didn’t really narrow it down for him. “Which campaign?” he asked, but the trooper ignored him yet again, which seemed rude, considering he’d started the conversation in the first place.

A commlink chirped – Anakin instinctively looked to his own belt before remembering he didn’t wear one anymore – and one of the troopers at the front of their procession answered it.

“We’re ready for you, Sergeant,” the voice on the other end said.

“Copy,” the man said, replacing the device on his belt.

“Well, I’m not ready,” Anakin said, and he stopped walking. The troopers at his back nearly ran into him. “I’m not going any further without an explanation. If you can’t give me that, then you can just put me back in my cell, because” –

“We do regular maintenance, on all the cells,” one of the troopers injected, talking over the tail end of Anakin’s sentence. “Routine cleaning, things like that. Check that the water pipes are functioning properly, do a little light dusting…”

“I don’t care if my cell is clean or not,” Anakin hissed. “You can skip mine for the next five months if you want. Or let me do it myself. Is that the problem? Just give me the tools and leave me alone. If you’re worried I’m going to break out, I promise I won’t. As long as you’ve got Obi-Wan here I’m, like, the opposite of a flight risk.”

“It might take, say, three hours to finish the whole floor, wouldn’t you say?” the trooper on Anakin’s left asked the trooper on Anakin’s right.

“Maybe as many as four,” he responded.

“And we do these sorts of rounds every other week,” the first one continued.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Anakin demanded.

“If you’d just wait right in here, Prisoner 224,” the trooper who was friends with Punch said, and nudged Anakin in the back with the butt of his rifle.

“I told you; I’m not going. And you’re bluffing. You won’t shoot me.”

“That’s true,” the trooper admitted. “I’m not. What I am going to do is count to thirty, and by the time I get to the end, you’re going to decide to go, all on your own.”

“Ha,” Anakin said. “Like hell I am. What on earth do you think would make me” –

“Here we are, sir,” another of the troopers said, and he punched the button to release the door guard in front of one of the cells. He was wearing a bucket, but he somehow seemed to be able to stare straight into Anakin’s eyes anyway. “Four hours, every other week,” he repeated slowly, enunciating very clearly.

“I don’t care how clean it is,” Anakin insisted, just as he was very unceremoniously shoved forward into the new cell he absolutely did not want to be in –

“Oh. Hello, sweetheart,” Obi-Wan said, sitting up from where he’d been lying on his back across his bunk, his arms crossed behind his head. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“What” – Anakin stammered as the door guard slammed down behind him, locking him in. Locking him into Obi-Wan’s cell. With Obi-Wan.

Anakin opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. The binders around his wrists unlocked and fell to the floor with a clatter. “Send Punch my regards,” he said, without turning his head. He and Obi-Wan hadn’t stopped staring into one another’s eyes from the moment they’d faced one another. Obi-Wan grinned. Anakin grinned back.

“Will do, sir,” his friend said jovially, but Anakin missed hearing him as he launched himself at Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan, laughing, caught him and lowered him down onto his bunk.

“Did I just hear you say something about four hours?” Obi-Wan asked mischievously, one eyebrow raising into a verbal question mark.

“Shut up and kiss me,” Anakin said, and Obi-Wan did.

#hey sweetheart #out of sync #obikin

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flecks-of-stardust · 1 year

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A summary and analysis of my thoughts on Rain World: Downpour

Since I've beat the game pretty thoroughly now, I can actually do this. The short version:

Campaign whose gameplay I enjoyed the most: Artificer, by a long shot Campaign whose lore I think fits into the preexisting world best: Gourmand Most interesting story concepts: Saint Heaviest hitting story: Three way tie between Rivulet, Saint, and Artificer, all for different reasons. Honorable mention to Spearmaster Cool specbio possibilities: Spearmaster

I definitely enjoyed Downpour as a whole, both as a DLC and for the additional lore it provides even if some things may not be objectively canon; some things have more wiggle room than others, but considering Downpour is essentially Videocult endorsed, I'm willing to put stock into certain aspects. The new mechanics were fun to learn and mess around with, the stories were overall very interesting, and I had a lot of fun losing my god damn mind over these slugs. There are some major issues I have with Downpour though, one of the most major being how some campaigns diverge explicitly from the core theme of the vanilla game. I appreciate what Downpour added, but this is definitely not going to be all cheers and praise.

The rest of this will be going under a cut cause it's gonna be long.

This will be split into sections for easier reading and for easier writing for my poor sleep deprived brain. Saint's campaign broke me, yall. I've been operating on 5 hours of sleep all day.

Raw gameplay enjoyment

This one definitely goes to Arti. Her movement is practically unmatched; while Riv goes really fast and Saint lets you climb a lot of surfaces, Arti's bomb jumping combined with her permanent spear pulling ability makes her able to traverse almost anything. This is the first time I've ever dared traverse the Underhang, one of my favorite areas, without bringing a grapple worm with me. It was honestly amazing.

Her whole campaign is also just really, really fun for me. I like fighting things, but being forced to learn how to fight scavengers was honestly a delight. This is the most fun I've ever had repeatedly dying in a game, and it was for a multitude of reasons too, be it a stupid platforming death (happened a lot while I was learning how to use her bomb jump), getting overwhelmed by enemies, or just cackling at some wild lucky hit by a scav. And even beyond scavengers, fighting other things that would normally make me shriek and run away as other characters just became... average, really. I took down my first king vulture in Arti's campaign, and all it really took was an explosive spear (and the KV wedging itself into the wall, but shh).

Mechanically she's just... fun. She's so fun. And! You have basically no consequence for dying anyway! You have food EVERYWHERE and it's extremely easy to kill things to eat, explosives thrown at point blank range do little more than stun you, and aggression is encouraged. So even if you fuck up and die 200 times (literally my count was 200+ in 27 cycles LMAO) there's like... zero bearing on your progress in the game. And I really like that. It was still brutal, don't get me wrong. I think around three quarters of those 200 deaths, probably more, were from scavengers. But part of Rain World's original difficulty was that losing karma would lock you out of traversing regions eventually, and Arti kind of... removes that restriction. I will say it's really fucking annoying to have to look for karma 5 scavengers if you're trying to pass a karma 5 gate, but I really only had to do that twice and that was because I wanted to explore. It's kind of just... natural, I guess, for the structure of her campaign. I'm not good enough at combat to really do it cleanly myself, but I imagine people who are even more confident in their ability to go full on warpath mode with scavengers had less of an issue with this.

Gourmand quite easily takes second place after Arti, with almost as much combat ability as her if you use their abilities right and the added benefit of being able to make like half the game's items if you have the right things. Their food requirement was kind of daunting at first, but I was almost always able to eat up to full food, and it really wasn't that much of a challenge. Mechanically, too, their body slam move is really fucking funny, and I will forever be sad they patched out the tendency of Gourmand launching enemies across the map when rolling into them. Shoutout to that one white lizard on the wall that I landed on and totally crushed the spine of without me even seeing it, because I was trying to go fast and was not expecting an enemy one screen down. The exhaustion mechanic didn't bother me too much and honestly made me more confident with the starving mechanic, which I'm grateful for; that was probably the only reason why I even tried to starve on Arti when I had to shelter because of the rain. And overall, Gourmand's campaign was pretty chill, a nice middle ground of difficulty between Survivor and Hunter. It was a good stepping stone after finishing my Hunter run.

Least favorite mechanically was Saint. It got really irritating really fast to not be able to throw spears, and not even to kill things. I can stun things with rocks, sure, but that doesn't help me if I'm in a narrow space (which Saint has a lot of) and the place I want to go to doesn't have alternate paths (which Saint has a lot of). It got so, so fucking tiring to have to wait for enemies to fucking move, especially with the ridiculous abundance of spiders and spitter spiders everywhere I went. This campaign was the one I used dev tools the most on because I genuinely just got sick of waiting, because not only did that mean I wouldn't get anywhere when exploring, I would also waste time that would otherwise be spent eating food—which is also harder to get because Saint is strictly vegetarian!—or finding a shelter so I didn't freeze to death. You can only get spawn camped so many times before you get annoyed and all. Except instead of spawn camping you get the same fucking enemies camping the same fucking pipes forever. Good luck trying to get anywhere if you don't have karma 10. My god. The tongue was fun, but again, it does Not help if you're in a cramped space.

Spearmaster and Riv were... eh. Average. Fun in that I enjoyed them, average in that they didn't invoke any particular feelings in me. Definitely irritating that they introduced Spearmaster's dual spear wielding gimmick and then. Took it away from you. Lmao. What the hell honestly. But I had fun with all the campaigns overall.

Vanilla Lore Compliance

Gourmand takes this one easily. I like it because it's one of the most removed from the iterators' stories, similar to Survivor and Monk's campaigns. While that's a little sad, I'll admit, it fits a lot better with the core theme of the game. You're not the protagonist. You're a slugcat, trying to survive in this hostile world that was never designed for your existence. You can stumble your way into the lives of beings truly godlike in comparison to you, but you're not even a speck of dust in the grander scheme of things. You're nothing.

But you are you, and Gourmand embodies that very well. Literally too fat to give a shit, good for them. Their whole journey is just to eat well and sleep well and that translates so well to both gameplay and lore, and it's lovely. Lore wise, I also really like that ascending Gourmand gets you almost nothing, and doesn't even count as a proper game clear, because Gourmand is so so removed from anything to do with the ancients as a whole, which is actually something i had a bit of an issue with even in the vanilla lore. Who gives a shit about ascending? You're a slugcat, god dammit. The only things you think about are food, shelter, and danger. And maybe shiny pearls. What does the cycle matter to you? You're just trying to survive. So I really like Gourmand's true, Outer Expanse ending, especially the story implications of the ending cutscenes if you also finish their food quest. You're just exploring this new land, looking for food and safe places to rest in, because you're a slugcat with a family. What more could you want as a slugcat?

Arti is also fairly lore compliant, mostly because she. Uh. Has like no bearing on the lore lmfao. Her story is the most isolated from those of the iterators; she would have done what she did regardless of Pebbles' input. (Gourmand too, but that's not relevant here.) But her story also doesn't really tie back into the original theme of the game, so I can't really comment much on her campaign in terms of lore compliance. Still loved it though! Really liked the reasoning behind letting Pebbles read pearls for you.

Riv and Saint are terrible in terms of lore compliance, and it's a big issue I have with both their campaigns. I'm sure everyone's thought along these lines already, but both of them go directly against the core theme of the vanilla game, which again, is that you are not the protagonist. Riv is probably worse than Saint in this regard, because the events of her campaign require her direct input to occur, while Saint, you can argue they're just an observer of the world in the distant future. But they're both really really bad on this. I still enjoyed the story, but seriously? You're going to tell me someone purposed a slugcat to intentionally go inside an interator to retrieve possibly the most dangerous item in this world to date? And apparently, according to dev notes, Riv wasn't created by an iterator. Which makes no sense and I've elected to ignore that piece of information considering Riv spawns in with the mark of communication and a pearl with schematics of the inner workings of iterator cans. This is peak protagonist behavior. It's nice to get character development on Pebbles, but this really is just... bad. Lol. For canon lore. I really don't take anything Riv does in her campaign as objective fact.

Spearmaster is kinda just there. Not implausible by any means, given Hunter's campaign, though there's some timeline inconsistencies with Moon's collapse if you look through the vanilla pearls and compare the years. It's not that big of an issue though.

Story Concept Execution

As much as I have issues with Saint's campaign, I have to give this one to them. From start to finish it's just shock after shock, blow after blow after blow of oh god, the world's so different. Every change was at least interesting, even if I don't approve of some of them; I liked piecing together that the rain cycle doesn't exist anymore, and rather it's now based on whether you're freezing or not. The little details in how the world has changed are really charming too, especially in how lots of things are now fluffy because it's bitterly cold. Though Riv, Spearmaster and Arti have marked world changes, none are quite as striking as those found in Saint's campaign. It's truly like exploring a new world, except you can still see the old one in it, and it's a strange, somewhat bittersweet, somewhat melancholy feeling to go through the various areas, especially when Saint's campaign naturally takes you through most of the regions. The Undergrowth as a whole, where it used to be Drainage System, really hammers it home I think. You're witnessing the world reclaim itself from what the ancients did to it, for better or for worse, and though it's sad to see the old world go, it's kind of a relief to see it start to push back.

The layout of the world on a more meta sense is also really, really cool. I loved the detail of the old Underhang-Five Pebbles The Region gate now being the link between Silent Construct and Frigid Coast. I loved seeing, despite how horrifying it is story wise, how Pebbles' can has decayed and changed after all these years, and how life has reclaimed his arrays and chambers. I also really really loved the fact that each area has been renamed to reflect its current state; going through Sky Islands (Windswept Spires) to Farm Arrays (Desolate Fields) to Outskirts (Suburban something, I missed the second word) and beyond... it's very haunting in a way I thoroughly enjoyed. It felt a lot like picking through shattered pieces of glass and trying to piece them back together into a coherent shape again, while also knowing that it's never going to be what it once was.

Additionally, I absolutely adored the monologue changes of the already existing echoes, just mentally comparing the differences between what they say in Saint's time and what they say to the other slugcats. And the new echoes too! I keep thinking about the Undergrowth echo, how they mention they never wanted to ascend. It hits you so so hard with how the old world the ancients built is nothing but rubble and ice now. How they, too, were just people, trying so hard to do what they thought would bring them peace, and some of them not finding it even after what they thought would be an eternal rest. It just adds to the overall melancholy feeling of Saint's version of the world.

I don't think I have a clear second place or last place campaign for this category. They all held up on story execution in their own right, but none stood out quite as starkly as Saint's campaign did. They did well to force you to play Spearmaster and Rivulet first before Saint would be unlocked; without the context of both Spearmaster's pre-collapse time and Riv's post-collapse, heavily Rot infested time, Saint's story wouldn't have hit as hard.

Story Impact

It's really hard for me to pick one definitive favorite for this category because all the Downpour cats have such good stories for such different reasons, but Arti, Riv and Saint's campaigns definitely gripped me really, really hard. Spearmaster's did too, but a little less so, and not for Spearmaster himself; I was in it for Moon.

Arti held my interest from the start. It's no secret I'm an avid tragedy and horror enjoyer, and Arti's whole campaign is painted in the blood of her pups. Besides just being mechanically fun, I found myself constantly on the edge for more of her story, always wanting to find out more about what happened to her, what happened to her pups, what happened to make her hate scavengers so much she committed to killing them all. Though the final execution of her actual story felt a little flat, I still really loved the ideas behind her story, and she was the first one to make me destroy my sleep schedule to try and finish her campaign. The whole concept of a mother's rage extending so far that it locks her out of a true release is so so sad and I love it. I love her rage, I love her grief, I love her ceaseless violence that only perpetuates the cycle further, I love how hard it hits when you kill the Chief Scav and how little you get out of that. Her story is an exercise in futility and yet you will root for her. It's gutting and it's beautiful. I also know most of what happens in her other ending, and that just drives it home even more, I think. That her love and her grief is so strong that it prevents her from obtaining a true rest, forever separated from her pups after fighting for them for so long. It's heartbreaking and yet it fits so well. Very fitting for Rain World's overall melancholy world.

Riv and Saint both went for my throat with Pebbles' state, but in different ways. With Riv you get to see the horror of how much the Rot has overtaken his can. It was a fun and horrifying moment to enter via the wall and drop down, and then get stunned by the fall to finally realize that wait, the zero gravity is broken. And then seeing the proto daddies at the end and then encrusted over the pipe that would normally lead to GSB, and also the gaping hole in the side of his chamber and him just sitting on the floor, dejected. He sounds so defeated from the start, so frustrated but in a way that's more just tired than angry, or angry at himself rather than at the world. How desperate do you have to be as something so powerful, wielding so much knowledge, to ask some random critter that flopped into your chamber to save your long time friend (whose state you yourself caused)? And to ask them to go deep into your systems and remove the power source keeping you alive, no less? It drives home the passage of time between Monk's campaign and Riv's, and really nicely shows how Pebbles has changed as a person, even if it took everything literally falling to pieces around him to finally get there. I really get it, though, the fear of yourself and your actions and knowing you objectively messed up, but being too afraid and ashamed to ask for help. It's very brave of him to even ask Riv to do what he did, when he spends the last six campaigns telling slugcats to fuck off in no uncertain terms because he's so certain he has to fix this on his own. And the post game too, when you go back to his chamber and he just looks sad and finally agrees that he doesn't have to do this alone? Gut wrenching. They really went for everyone's hearts with Riv.

Which is just driven further home in Saint's campaign, when you find him sitting out in the snow in the remains of his can, his chamber not even a chamber anymore, and with barely enough of himself together to greet Saint when they stumble into him. He has only his music pearl left, and even that is distorted by time, and if you take it to Moon she pleads you to bring it back to him because it's all he has left. Any of his former bite is gone, replaced only by stuttering curiosity and confusion, and he even thanks you for keeping him company if you return enough times. You spend so long seeing him as this unreachable, untouchable presence that gives you some directions in an aloof way and maybe helps you out a bit, just to see him in this state of ruin, barely alive. I've never had a more visceral reaction to seeing him than I did in Saint's campaign, nor have I ever been more determined to find him. Like, stepping into what used to be Shaded Citadel, finding the Husk and realizing Pebbles collapsed because of course he did, he tells you that when you play as Riv, realizing why it's not shaded anymore, and seeing the state of his can... it's heartbreaking. The fact that there's so little of him left is heartbreaking.

And then on top of that, you get to actively choose to end his misery. To grant him the one thing he spent literally his whole life toiling for. And to me, it felt cruel, almost. It didn't even feel like mercy. And you can choose to do the same thing to Moon, too. It's all framed in such desolate but clear terms: the old world is dying, and a new one is emerging. Is it better to leave Moon there and allow her to slowly decay? But is ascending her a good option either? Is Pebbles truly more at peace like this? And it just makes me think about how both iterators may have felt watching Saint start glowing and flying, and then suddenly their souls are wrenched out of their bodies. And then after you reach the end of Rubicon, if you ascended either one or both of them, you can find them at the end, talking to you and telling you, perhaps a bit vaguely, that none of this is real. That none of what you did has lasting impact, that Pebbles is likely still out there in the snow, that Moon is still going to slowly decay like he did, that Saint, despite it all, is still trying to do this over and over and over again, because that is what an echo does. I haven't cried this hard at a game in a really long time, and I immediately started sobbing when I poked my head into the chamber and saw both of them there, the way they looked when in their prime, just to be told that my actions meant nothing in the end. It was absolutely devastating, but that really just cements how powerful Saint's story is. And here I realize that probably means Saint has the most powerful story impact, but it's truly hard to compare to Arti's and Riv's because the impact is different for all of them.

Then you have Spearmaster, where you get to explore Moon before she collapsed. I sobbed when I got to Neural Terminus and saw Moon's gorgeous blue and pink interior with Reflection of the Moon playing, just mourning all that she lost, all that Pebbles took from her, and despite it all, somehow, she's still kind and patient. Getting to see her as powerful as we will ever see her, while also knowing how much she loses and that this is not even close to what she would have been like in her prime, was just so so gutting. We're never going to know what Moon was like before it all happened, but this comes close to it, and it hurts. In a sense, it's a nice juxtaposition to what Riv and Saint show of her and Pebbles, and also just draws on an objective fact. Before and after the events of the vanilla game, Pebbles and Moon were or will be different. We only get to see glimpses of it.

Gourmand really doesn't have any stock here. Their ending is sweet, for sure, I cried twice at their ending, but the impact of knowing how Moon and Pebbles change and also the impacts of Arti's grief and rage really stuck with me more.

Uh, a section just for Spearmaster?

As you may have been able to tell from the analysis and summary above, I kind of didn't really think much of Spearmaster's campaign. I personally did not find it too hard (though I had experience dragging around two pups before that, so I was used to only having one active hand by then), but it's just frustrating to be introduced to a cool mechanic and then have it removed from you if you give a shit about the story. I do, however, thoroughly enjoy the concept of them as a purposed being. Why do they have no mouth? Why are they able to secrete spears? How and why do they have to eat from these spears? Why did Suns choose to create this creature? Wouldn't it have been easier to just take an existing slugcat and modify it like Sig did? So many questions. Their biology is funky and I enjoy it.

That's sort of it, though. While I did like Spearmaster's campaign overall, it really doesn't hold up to any of the other campaigns. Which is a bit disappointing, but oh well.

Downpour Overall

The concepts and stories introduced here were absolutely stunning, and I had a blast playing through all the campaigns, even if I did employ the use of dev tools a fair bit in certain campaigns (mostly Saint and a bit in Riv tbh), and I also turned on 'keep key items on passage' to speed things up. I do have a little bit of an issue with how certain parts of some campaigns cough Spearmaster and Saint cough felt very much like you'd need your karma to be high to be able to effectively traverse the map, while also really limiting your options for actually gaining karma, but maybe that's a bit of a problem on my end for not being a good enough gamer lmao. I dunno. I just don't enjoy karma grinding on something so story focused. On Survivor and Monk it's whatever, but I know the world and the story by now. I really hated having to just eat and sleep just so I could move on in the story, and eventually I just resorted to spawning food in with Beastmaster here and there so I could actually fucking save my progress. But overall? It was so so fun.

I am a little miffed that some of the campaigns directly go against how the vanilla game was structured, but I'm also delighted that we pretty much have dev approval for character development of characters like Pebbles and Moon, and to some extent Sig(!) and Suns. I personally work with the iterators a lot with stories, so I'm just piling up all of this information and shoving my face into it. I'm so happy about this asdkfgkklsdkl and generally, I think I'm just going to take the different timelines you can see with the various campaigns as snapshots of different moments in time. Do I honestly believe Riv could have achieved what she did? Do I genuinely believe Saint could or should have helped either iterator ascend? No, not really. Spearmaster I could believe more, but he's really a footnote in the broader story, an observer to this world that he really has no say in. I think that would capture the nature of Rain World better. You may not be the main character, but you can still view this world through the lens of something that exists in it.

Difficulty wise, it was okay for me personally, and mostly the dev tooling and assists were to help with me getting irritated more than objective difficulty I'd say? Like, I definitely could have done it legit, but it would take about three times as long and I just wanted to explore, for fuck's sake, and I wanted the rest of the story. Saint and Spearmaster were definitely harder in some respects, and Arti is a difficulty Cliff for some people, but it wasn't so bad that I couldn't enjoy the game, especially with remix options now.

Remix is definitely something I really really love though. For the longest time, I could not securely recommend Rain World to people because of the glaring accessibility issues it had. It still has some, but it's a great deal improved from what it used to be, and I'm very glad about that. Rain World's never going to be an easy game, but it's a really great one that deserves to be enjoyed by more people, and Remix is a great option for those who need more help along the way.

Some of the new creature concepts are really neat, honestly. I loved caramel lizards, these goofy little red x green lizard mixes with six (six!!!) legs, and also tiny cute pretty strawberry lizards. The Miros Vultures, as much as I fucking loathed having to deal with them, are so so cool conceptually. I just wish they didn't chase you across rooms :/ and, while terrifying, MLL was cool. I like the progression of the Rot. It's just cool details overall.

Would I recommend Downpour to people? Absolutely, but definitely play the base game first. Downpour is, as other people have put it, sort of its own game that shares mechanics and certain aspects of lore with Rain World. It was a mod originally, after all. But I think the MSC team deserves the money for the sheer amount of work they've put into this. It was an experience that was well worth the price and more.

#rain world #downpour #downpour spoilers #EXTENSIVE spoilers yall don't read if you haven't finished all the campaigns #now i haven't played inv's campaign but uh #i'm just going to pretend that's not a thing. lmao.#also i shit you not this miros vulture hunted me ACROSS ROOMS. TWICE.#it was so fucking annoying #like what do you mean you can TELL which room i'm in fuck you

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celestialking · 2 years

Note

yes it is :)

-🩸

Okay bit of a long story ish I guess

Also I'm sure there's details I'm missing but like I can't remember a whole lot

Tw: for a tiny bit of dark themes (yucky creature, self forced staying awake?)

So for context idk if you've seen Sam and Colbys second to last video where they mention an Elemental.

Well when I was smaller. I finished 4th grade and then we moved. We got to our new house I did 5th grade blah blah. Then I started 6th grade.

I don't remember exactly when it started but I started having what I thought was a hallucination. A pale scrawny human ish formed creature with black tipped long claws. Obviously it had now hair and it was always hunched over. If it moving it ran on all fours or just hopped a bit while squatting.

I thought that what I was seeing was impossible at first. That it was maybe a piece of clothing and that without my glasses I was just crazy. But of course as the typical "emo" kid all I owned was black clothing. Nothing white.

I ended up being terrified and rolling over to not move. Then I heard it walking around, shuffling, sniffing and then it stopped. I flipped back over and it was gone.

Of course I was like 12 or 13 at the time so I was just like "maybe I didn't sleep enough. That can make you see things," so I just flipped my closet light on and called it a night. I forgot about it the next morning completely.

Until night fell and it was back again.

It wasn't there every night. But once it started showing up I just kept trying to sleep to avoid it. I'd try to sleep all the time. At least until it was then in my dreams. I then stopped sleeping.

I wouldnt let myself sleep at all because then I was scared of seeing it there. Being trapped with it. Obviously not sleeping lead to other issues like being sick, and not eating and drinking properly and almost hospitalization. (Sleep is good. Please sleep♡)

Now my mother is an entire nightmare herself and she's always hated that I've been afraid of the dark. At this point in time I had 6 night lights. Well.

There was one night my mother came in. "Sick" of my "shit" and started taking them all. She ignored me as I started sobbing to not take the lights because it would be back. She said the usual shit "man up" "there's nothing there" "go the fuck to bed"

I had avoided it for a few days at that point because there was so much light in my room. Well now that there was none it was back.

Of course. I'm super upset and traumatized and so so tired. I started whisper yelling at it to go away. To leave me alone. To let me sleep.

But obviously didnt say anything and this time it came closer. It was no longer a few feet from the edge of the bed. No. This fucker walked up to my head which was on the edge of the bed. And it sat staring me in the face. Idk how fucking long but I've never held my breath for as long as I did

It rippled kinda like an image after a while and dissapeared. But it fucking smelled. Like this awful rotting stench and it was just awful. I thought I'd pass out.

Once it left I flicked the closet light on and attempted to sleep.

During that time I had a small mirror at the end of my bed on the wall. Of course, like am idiot during the night I looked up and saw a dark shadow behind me in the mirror. Easily 6 7 8 feet tall. Problem was the wall was behind me. So why I saw a shadow was beyond me.

I hide under my blanket, and then I felt a small pressure. As if someone was pushing on my head and then it was gone.

Next morning, a hand print with claws on the mirror.

There was other spooky instances in that house like footsteps and doors slamming and things going missing.

But who believes a kid that your house is haunted :)

Also that story I said yesterday with my friends mom happened somewhere in that mix. She didn't want my friend around me cause she thought I was passed by the demon? Creature? but it was attatched??

Anyways seeing that creature both irl and in my dreams and all those instances lasted for like 4 years.

With the mirror I would always refuse to have it after those moments so I would throw it into my closet. Shocker. Mom wasn't happy about that either. I ended up carving protection symbols among other things and stuffing pieces of scrap paper with the symbols that I had left out in the moonlight into any space inside the mirror. Idk if that did anything but everything seemed to stop after that?? And after her mother saged me like 27 million times.

I still have a very hard time sleeping. I'm still very afraid of the dark.

But it's been like 8 years now since that all happened and I always thought it was just a really detailed hallucination. So you can imagine why I had a mental breakdown upon finding out via Sam and Colby that I was being terrorized by a creature that actually has a name and it wasn't an overactive imagination creating something I didn't even know was possible

Wowww I've been traumatized😵‍💫✨️🤪

#celestial:whispers #🩸●anon

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fangirl-everythang · 3 years

Text

Mirrors C.T.H

Summary: Calum and Y/n's schedules haven't lined up in a while. When they finally do, Calum decides to try a reflective persuasion if you will.

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Swearing, Spit, Slapping( well maybe one), Just lots of smut.

Word Count: 2691

A/N: This was inspired by @ContentCalum on Instagram. 10/10 recommend for short blurbs. (ALSO posted on Wattpad)

Can't wait to see you, princess, xxx.

That was the last text I got from Calum after he told me he was coming home. Today was my day off so I spent the day doing some housework. The four of them really do a number when they're together. Recently our schedules haven't been matching and I rarely see him. Just brief periods between my early work schedule and his unpredictable night/ whenever the fuck Michael wakes up studio times haven't left us much time together.

While that's in the oven I can shower. Deciding against pajamas I just grab one of Calums shirts because it smells just like him. Usually, I wouldn't wear a bra but a bralette won't hurt. With the hot steam rolling down the sides of the shower, I let the water hit my sore muscles. Work has been overly stressful. Between this new launch and creating a new marketing scheme, you would think we were planning the Met Gala. Putting those thoughts work thoughts aside, lathering and scrubbing every area of my body that has seen this house today. Afterward gotta lotion up because ashyness is not an option, sliding on the matching lace panties and Calums shirt that comes down to my mid-thigh.

Going back downstairs to turn the oven off I get started on the sides. Cauliflower mac and cheese isn't as bad as it seems, hopefully. "Duke do you think your daddy will notice?" He looks at me with those cute eyes, not a care in the world, guess not. The sound of the door opening has Duke happily barking and running away from me. Following not too far behind our fury son I see Calum kneel next to Duke.

"Hey Bud, did you miss me?" he asks playfully petting the sweet creature. He cuddles into Calum further when he looks up at me, "Hi princess."

"You know I think it's unfair when you ask Duke does he miss you when I'm standing right here." I grin. He stands up grabbing my waist "Well I know you missed me love." he smiles.

"Did I? You're kind of annoying." He gasps playfully holding his heart. Leaning my head back I reach up to kiss him. He takes his time bringing his lips to mine so I put my hands on his cheek and bring him closer. His soft lips against mine send me into a frenzy. God, I've missed him like crazy. Parting all too soon he leans his forehead on mine. "I love you." he rasps.

"I love you too bub." I grin going back into the kitchen. "Did you want to eat first or?" I ask looking at him questioningly.

"It's 4 pm Y/n." he chuckles. Well, we can eat later then, he concludes.

"Well, it's our first time together in forever, what now?" He has a smirk on his face and reaches for my wrist. "What is it Cal?" he walks away and up the stairs leaving me to follow him. I should turn the oven off. Glancing over to Duke he's in his little bed laying down. Being so cute I had to take a picture...or three. Taking my time up the stairs to admire the pictures of the cute doggo, "Cal look at these pictures of Du-What are you doing?" He continues to play with the reflective furniture.

"Do you know how good you look in the mirror? I couldn't stop thinking about all the dirty pictures you sent me," He stares at me through the mirror. "You're lucky I wasn't here babygirl." My cheeks flush as he pushes me closer to see our reflections dancing in the mirror with a tight hold on my hips.

"You're my distraction," he whispers as he slowly begins sucking underneath my ear, leaving kisses down my neck. My heart rate increases as his tongue touches a sensitive spot, shivers running down my spine. "As much as I want to tell you how beautiful you are, well you've been a bad girl hmm?" His hand lightly trails across my neck, his eye contact never leaving as he snakes his other hand towards my front over my clothed womanhood. "Answer me." His grip becoming more firm on my neck.

"Yes daddy." he hums in approval as he lifts his shirt above his head exposing his tan torso. "Look at how sexy you are baby." but he didn't seem satisfied when my eyes stay glued to the ground. He could have any girl he wanted and yet he chose me. I'm not skinny whatsoever. I have more tits than ass and rolls for days. The stretchmarks that litter my body don't bother me but most aspects of everything else does. His hand reaches for my hair in a tight fist forcing me to look up at our reflection, my core aching at the sudden pull. "I'm speaking to you." he says very sternly, "I guess I'll just have to make you listen."

Stripping himself of his pants and sitting on the edge of the bed right in front of the mirror he opens his legs and pats me over. "Sit." I obey him, anticipation building in my core. His hands roam my body freely lingering wherever they please. He begins attacking my neck slowly dragging his finger across my thigh "Look at you, acting like a good girl hmm?" he moves the cotton fabric up to my waist giving him a view of my panties from the mirror "'gonna be good for daddy?"

I nod silently, he shakes his head in a disapproving manner. "Use your words Love."

"I'll be good for you daddy." he hums in approval, spreading my legs apart. He traces his finger along the outskirts of my panties, my hips thrusting lightly "excited now are we?" he smirks looking at the wet spot through the mirror. Calum slides the thin material to the side, lightly grazing my clit. My eyes momentarily closing at the brief touch before his other calloused hand reaches up, grabbing my jaw, forcing me to to look up. "You're going to watch as I tease your cunt. You're going to cum on my fingers, then you'll watch as I devour your pussy. Close your eyes even once and I'll force another out of you. Got it?" He has a fire blazing behind his golden-brown orbs.

"Yes sir." nodding along as his fingers begin tapping on my clit. "Good girl," he whispers before dipping his middle finger into my sex, the digit easily slipping in. "Nuh that way." he reminds me once more to look up into the mirror. The glass allowing me to see everything at once, the way he looks at me hungrily, his slender finger shining with my arousal. I can see his other hand going to reach for my breast before I feel it, the mere fact causing a moan to leave my lips.

"Awwwe you like watching yourself being played with huh?" he maintains eye contact with me through the mirror, as he adds another finger into my throbbing hole. His length pressing into my back, hardening with every sound from my mouth. "Rub your clit y/n."

My hand following his orders adding more sensation to my building orgasm. The scene before me so pleasingly intimate and erotic. "Cal I'm goin-" My back arching into him as my orgasm takes complete control of my body, his eyes on me every step of the way.

He brings his fingers to my lips, allowing me to taste myself, whimpering himself when I take his fingers into my mouth, sucking them as if they were his member. I release them, clean, turning to face him. "I thought I told you-" I lean forward straddling his waist, kissing him roughly. "I know but I want to please you too Cal." Before he can respond I gently slip off the bed, face to groin. I pull down his boxers just enough to release his straining cock, gently stroking it in my palm. "Let me take care of you," I smile at him, pressing a kiss to the side of his shaft "Please daddy." He groans, swiping his thumb over my lip and nodding. We've been apart far too long, aching to taste him once more.

I lick his shaft, tasting his pre-cum on my tongue, he lets out a sigh of relief, embedding his hand through my hair. "Mhmmm just like that princess." He moans as I take most of him in my mouth, cupping his balls and pressing my forefinger lightly on the skin between the two. The feeling of him in my mouth forces my mind to wonder about him being inside of me, stretching me in the best of ways, a moan finds its way out from my throat around Calum causing his hips to thrust more. I clench my thighs together to provide some friction for my thoughts, I reach my hand between my legs relieving myself from all the arousal. "Get up." he demands, seeming almost angry. Not wanting to question him I rise confused by the sudden change of tone, knowing better than to say anything.

He removes any fabric left covering my body aggressively, not saying a word. Pushing me back till my knees cave against the bed causing me to fall back onto our shared mattress. He places himself between my legs, rubbing his length along my core painfully slow. "Please, I need you Cal." He continues gazing at me through his lust filled orbs, desire seeping from his pores. He pushes his tip in and then taking it out, the feeling gone as soon as it had appeared. A whine erupted from my lips, he chuckled to himself. "Remind me again y/n," he states in a hushed tone, "Are you to touch yourself without my permission?" He looks at me, his finger dancing over my sensitive nub but neglecting it furthermore. Accepting my silence for an answer, "And yet you did." His head dips down encapsulating my nipple in his mouth, a breathy moan leaving my lips as his hands roam my body freely. My hips thrusting trying to create some- any friction. "Cal I won't do it ever again, just please- please fuck me daddy. " A stinging on my cheek causing a gasp to leave my lips, surprised by this side of Calum. Still shocked, he places his hand firmly on my cheek pushing my face into the mattress. The only thing in view is the mirror with his gorgeously tanned tattooed body on top of mine, hand still placed on my face. He leans in dangerously close, moving a strand of hair aside slowly, his fingertip leaving the slightest touch before putting his hand back with the same pressure as before, "Now watch sweetheart." he darkly whispers.

Before I could question it his entire length thrust in me at once, a broken moan escaping me. With the side view, I can see him pounding into me, each thrust harder than the last. "Fuck- so wet hmmm, such a good whore." he moans, I nod under his hand clenching walls around him, tilting my pelvis to meet his. He removes his hand from my face to apply pressure to my clit, hitting a particularly blissful combination. "Fuck Cal right there!" I scream as the bedrocks underneath our sweaty bodies. He slows his movements savoring the view before him, his good girl-now fucking onto him, desperate for release. Her hair frizzy, eyes fluttering from excessive pleasure, he never wanted it to end. "I love you y/n."

"I love you too Calum." I reach up grabbing his neck to pull him back to me, our lips meeting once more passionately while he thrust into me again. He presses my body closer to his as my legs wrap around him for dear life, my hands holding onto his as if he'd disappear. "Can I cum please?" He grunts, nodding his head in approval of my very much needed release. Unable to focus on anything but the eruption of pleasure from my core, repeating a slur of Calums name over and over again like it is the only thing I've ever known. His release following shortly after, the warmth of his seed filling me. His panting is my focal point upon return, watching as each breath falls from his swollen plump lips. I giggle moving some of his sweat-coated hair from his face, "Welcome home Mr.Hood." He smiles laughing at my gesture, "Quite the welcome it is Miss Y/L/N" He pulls my face forward once more placing a soft kiss to my lips, which is happily returned before he pulls me to the edge of the bed, still seemingly connected, placing me dead center in front of the mirror once more. Looking at him with a curious glance, he notions to the mirror as I watch his every move. He pulls his softening member from my core, a gasp leaving my lips due to the newfound vacancy.

His eyes never leaving mine as the smirk on his face grows, kneeling between my thighs. I lean up on my forearms to see both him and the reflection better, the handsome bassist looping his arms around my legs, keeping me in place. "Look how pretty baby." He says watching our fluids drip out of me, his tone of admiration never wavering. My hips jut back as he strokes over my clit, still hyper-sensitive from the orgasm just moments before. As I retract my pussy away from his devilish grin he rumbles a low growl, attaching his lips to my center, his wide hands gripping my hips with brisk strength-leaving prints in their path. His tongue lapping my hole over and over again. He replaces his mouth with his fingers, the scissoring motion driving me on edge once more. He leans over me, tapping on my lips to which I comply with his wishes, opening my mouth. He smiles before releasing the cum-mixed spit down my throat, swallowing our combined fluids moaning as he returns his mouth to my pussy. My wetness glistening all over his face as he continues to but himself in me. Seeing his back muscles contract in the mirror each time he moves, watching him devour me in the most sinful of ways. I can see it all, moans leaving my lips between my pleas for him to stop his assault but nonetheless, he persists until my legs are a quivering mess around his head. My bare breast rising with every sharp inhale, my back arching further into him, hoping to get away but he keeps me planted there in front of him.

"I need to- Cal can I-I- fuck please" The words barely able to leave my lips, he stares at me nodding but never removing himself from my core. My orgasm ripples through me, forcing my body to compromise, stiffening as I release on Calum's tongue. My hips riding his tongue exactly where I need him as my fingers grip at his hair, hearing him moan at the feeling sending an aftershock of vibrations through my center. An unholy slurping noise from Calum is the last thing to be heard as he joins me again on the bed, pulling me into him. His lips providing every emotion needed. "I missed you."

I laugh at his cute post-sex neediness, "I missed you too Cal." He pats my head, letting his hands rake through the mess of hair on top of my head as I trace over his feather tattoo. "Did I ever tell you how good you taste?" he murmurs, shrugging lightly to himself, "Fucking delicious." His hands lingering the curves of my body before he places two fingers on my clit. "No, no, no not again." I chuckle pushing him away as my body shudders from the sensation.

"Hmmm I suppose we'll have more time today." he rasps. "Indeed we will." I smile placing a kiss on his cheek. Let's just say the night was more than eventful, happy to be in each other presence again.

A/N:

WOW long time no see! I can't wait to get back into the flow of writing and now that the semester is over I have more time lol.

I hope you're all hanging in there alright!

xoxo-Janelle

#5sos smut #5sos x reader #calum 5sos #calum hood smut #calum x reader #calum hood #calum imagine #Blurb #Smut #cth #5 seconds of smut #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #michael clifford #reader insert #y/n #x reader #fanfic

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rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

YOU DRIVE ME MAD

Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)

A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.

"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.

"uhm... Nothing."

"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.

"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.

With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.

I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"

"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.

"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.

My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.

His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.

I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.

The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.

"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.

"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"

"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.

"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.

One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.

"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."

"... 'm trying..."

"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.

"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.

"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.

"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.

I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.

What the fuck had just happened?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.

As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.

Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.

"—already told you it wasn't for you!"

"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.

"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"

"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"

"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"

"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.

As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.

"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.

"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.

"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."

He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.

"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."

"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"

"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.

"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"

"Been better." I confessed.

Silence.

"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."

"No worries."

Silence again.

"Did you eat something?"

He scrunched his nose. "Not really."

"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.

"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."

More silence.

"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."

"Yours is too, surprisingly."

"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.

"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"

"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.

"No!"

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Liar."

There we went again; the white flag was out.

"Fuck you."

"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."

"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."

"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.

"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."

"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."

"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"

He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.

"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"

He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.

"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.

I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.

That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.

I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"

"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.

"In private?"

"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.

"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."

This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"

"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.

This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.

I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.

"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."

"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.

Finally.

Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.

"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.

Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.

#fred weasley x reader #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasly x reader #gred and forge #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #fred weasley x gryffindor!reader #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fluff #fred Weasley hurt comfort #fred x you #fred x slytherin reader #fred weasley au

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i-need-air · 3 years

Note

Oh-- I really really -really- liked your wolf hybrid Bakugou and-- if you don't mind, can you do one on Kirishima? Just the general headcanons, if this is too bothersome then you can ignore this once again- thank you

Just general headcanons you say? Okay, I had this written 2k words in before I got this ask and now it's at... ehem, let me take a deep breath for this;

Word count: 3.5k 💀 [of HCs 💀💀💀]

Why do I keep doing this to myself aksdjkd I love Kiri so much, my god! Thanks for the ask!! 💗

[ Masterlist ]

Hybrid!AU Kirishima Eijirou HCs

× i mentioned him as a dog hybrid and we're sticking with it because it just feels right, yano? anyway!

× you found out about how the new hybrid shelter in your city helped bust a fighting ring

× which was horrifying to think about

× one of your friends explained the process to you and you were definitely interested in helping someone out

× shelters were still underfunded and didn't provide much to help the hybrids adapt to society

× so you found yourself in front of the shelter without a plan

× just a dream and a spare couch that could thankfully convert into a bed

× before you could chicken out you stormed through the doors like a mad person, catching the attention of the guards and the front desk man

× it surprised you how disinterested they were though; were they seriously the people that dismantled a whole illegal fighting ring?

× they called a sweet old lady to accompany you

× when you explained your situation her eyes sparkled, looking you up and down and nodding her head

× she took you through some hallways, showing you around the precinct, questioning you about what type of hybrid you'd want

× to which you honestly didn't know how to respond, like anyone you could help????

× it kinda pissed you off how she spoke about the hybrids like they were pets, suggesting you'd get a kitty or a bunny, since [her words] they were low maintenance

× is this really a good shelter?

× you looked around, finding prison like cells left and right, some with people that looked at you curiously, some covering from your glance

× they were locked in...

× some growling could be heard far away but the woman shook her head at you, disapproving gaze turned to the side as she took you further into the building

× another room, this time cells were bigger, a few occupied, yet covered from you, indiferent and uninterested

× a man was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands in his hair

× "Kirishima, boy, get up to greet someone"

× his red eyes snapped up, whatever he was thinking about slowly forgotten

× he blinked curiously as you hugged your frame, feeling uncomfortable, even ashamed to be there

× but a sweet smile took over his features

× "Hey! I'm Kirishima Eijirou!"

× it's really all it took for you to grow fond of him; he got up and came closer to the entrance of the cell and introduced himself in such easy-going manner you forgot about everything and anything

× he calmed you with his presence, even if it was very disheveled, with old ripped clothes and hair messy, painted red with obvious dark roots showing

× he had a black fluffy tail waving slowly behind him too

× you introduce yourself with his encouragement and mumbled how you wanted to help someone out today

× he just smiled at you, taking you in

× let me tell you something about dog hybrids: they can sense emotions and intentions so Kiri would be a very good judge of character and he really, genuinely took a liking on you

× the problem is how the fuck do you say out loud that you wanted to help him out

× because you sure as hell weren't going to say you'd adopt him; he's not a child? we're talking about a grown ass man here? literally looked like 6'4ft/1.95m?????

× it was so shameful, your gut turned as you cursed society and he sensed it, expression changing, falling a little as he saw you look very out of place

× "Hey, hey, everything's gonna be fine!" he said

× he told YOU that

× instead of YOU telling HIM those words;;; you almost burst into ugly crying, forgetting about everything else, your minuscule problems or shame or whatever and just nodded at him

× "Would you like to come home with me, Kirishima?" you said, ignoring the happy clapping the old lady was doing, watching carefully how his expression, clear as water, switched from easy-going and reassuring to shocked then hopeful

× "I'd like that" he breathed out "—a lot."

× as you went out the lady was telling him it was a shame they separated his group of friends, something about being sent to different shelters, how he had to be a good boy, to behave, yada-yada and seriously;;; he was taking it so lightheartedly, as if he was so used to this behavior or even was thankful for it?

× it was starting to get annoying, specially when they gave you a collar for him, like no fucking thanks, but you'd take care of it later

× since it was very random and unplanned, you were making mental gymnastics to figure out what to get and what to do first, like clothes, food—

× journey home was pleasant as he walked close to you, asking you questions about yourself with a gentle smile on his features

× meanwhile people got out of both your ways because he was intimidating and big and large but his smile screamed sunshine

× all while he never really mentioned anything about himself

× you made a point to ask him if he was hungry, to grab a quick bite at any restaurant you could get at then go buy some clothes and necessities

× you were so casual and this guy was so shocked

× i swear, looks at you blinking stupidly then ✨beams✨

× spoiler alert; big boy was hungry

× it didn't matter honestly, just seeing him eat without a worry [even if everyone at the restaurant was wary of him but got a stink eye from you] was a relief

× since you answered his questions about you, you decided to ask some about him; you were going to be roomies soon so might as well get to know each other

× shocked again

× stops mid-bite when you ask him something and stares wide-eyed

× doesn't answer but you can see he wants to and you're confused??

× "did I—... did I say something wrong?" you'd press, scared you'd spook him away or something

× he just gulps down and looks ashamed

× casually tells you they've been told at the shelter owners don't care about them

× 🙃 say what now bby?

× he kinda starts apologizing because he understands why you wouldn't wanna know and you put your hand on his; kinda mutes him for a second

× "Kirishima, we're gonna live together and hopefully be friends in the process, right? I'd like to know about you, as much as you're willing to tell me"

× [ falls in love right then and there ]

× he's met humans before, many actually—

× even in the short weeks he's been at the shelter he's seen people come and go and none talked to him like you did

× stares with stars in his eyes and chuckles awkwardly, blush on his face

× "You're really nice, [Y/N]" he said before eagerly answering your questions; course, it leaves you confused lmfao but you brush past it

× okay! shopping next, long story short it was very hard to find hybrid clothes for his size so you pick to change human clothes and adjust them for him

× as you again mention this stuff casually he's just awestruck

× when you got home, bags in hand, you were explaining to him how you really didn't have much; you were working to get a promotion soon but for now you had a couch that could open up into a very comfy bed, which he assured you it was enough

× you were lowkey unsure if he fit it because like i mentioned, big boi is big

× he does! so that's a relief but you started considering giving him your bed; you mostly fell asleep on the couch anyway and to be fair, it was really comfortable and you mention it as he looks around

× his head snaps at you, wide eyed, yet does not talk

× so you ramble bc that's something fun to do! "I mean I went to the shelter without a plan and uh, I want you to feel as comfortable as possible and maybe the bed is a better fit and—"

× Kirishima Eijirou sees: 💕💞💕💞💕💞💕

× has never been treated like this, like he's an... equal... something he'll take months to share with you, but we're getting ahead of ourselves

× the thing is this boy will fall pretty hard pretty fast, but will definitely take time to make a move

× bc he is respectful

× so he thanks you for the offer and tells you it's probably the best place he slept in all his life

× can your heart stop breaking for him? i mean it's a good couch but it's no luxury hotel bed???

× [ we need to pause, OP made herself sad ]

× ok, so he's really helpful around the house, and he knows how to cook!

× takes no time to talk about his friends, special his best friend that cooked for everyone at the fighting ring and forced them all to help and that's how he was pretty decent at cooking himself

× wasn't the best though, but followed instructions like a boss

× he lives for your compliments

× literally his tail wiggles with no shame

× seriously;; tell him he did a good job even at the dumbest thing and—

× puffs chest

× wiggle-wiggle

× "Thanks!"

× 🥺💕💞 make him stop, he's so cute

× did i mention he has like floppy black ears? Omg his earsssssssssshnnngggggggggg

× because they move whenever he walks and they're mesmerizing

× and one day that you're observing them for science [not because your heart was like 💘pom-pom💘] you noticed his roots

× remember when your heart broke for him? hah, have some more because as you asked him, he started telling you that he was pushed into dying his hair red for the spectacle, diversity and what-not

× reassured you he grew to love it now, being part of who he is

× also gets a little bit shy when adding he wouldn't want to change the color in hopes of finding his friends someday and for him to be easily recognizable

× you bought him hair dye that same day

× WHICH! apart from gaining extra 🥺💕💞 from him, it created a nice routine between you two!!

× you offered to dye his hair and it was such a great time; he made you laugh, conversation going just as easy whenever you talked, you got to know each other a little bit more and—

× heh

× at the end, after applying all the red hair dye, you massaged his scalp gently

× guess who melts in your hands? yes, giant ass dog-man melts into a puddle under your hands and it's the cutest fucking thing you've ever seen

× I'm serious, he sighs and leans into your gloved hands with zero [0] shame, eyes closed and peaceful expression on his features apart from a small smile

× you tease him and he laughs it off, but promise him you'd give him head scratches when he was finished with the dye, washed off and hair dry

× and you better deliver

× "Don't think I forgot!" he'd say as he'd hop on his make-shift bed in the living room by your side, tail moving from side to side

× as you start playing with his locks, he falls into your lap and starts snoring

× move an inch and he opens his eyes to look at you confused

× puppy eyes questioning you if you're leaving 🥺

× yep, you fall asleep together

× you point out to yourself that those puppy eyes will be the death of you

× he's a touchy guy, okay? since he's been touchy with you from the very start you never questioned it, even read on the internet that many hybrids descended from house pets need physical affection, like hugs, pats, scratches, all the bag, so it wasn't a big deal for you

× except it was a big deal because he's been around for a month and you're already catching feelings and that's bad because you did not bring him there to fall for him but to help him start a new life and—

× oh my god, what if he thought you were one of those people from the horror stories about hybrid adoption that only wanted them for one thing—

× no, no, no, nO, NO.

× anxiety was getting to you as the guilt of catching feelings for him, plus the fact that he was financially dependant on you for the time which would've made it even worse if he found out, PLUS he comes from such a rough life, he definitely needs a break and doesn't need his first human friend in forever to be a piece of;;;

× Kiri catches on this really constant and increasing feeling of anxiety; he starts to send you worried glances but doesn't know how to proceed

× in such a soft voice he asks if you're okay, if something is on your mind

× and since you weren't sharing anything but acted as if everything was alright even when he felt you lied, Kiri started to get worried too

× why were you anxious? why weren't you talking to him about it?

× oh, god, was he a burden? because he felt like one;;; did you want him out? he felt like an extra weight for you and wanted to do something about it but maybe you got sick of him? he felt unmanly...

× the fact that he knew he cared about you as more than just a friend made him even more anxious and it didn't help that whenever he touched you he heard your breath hitch or your heart beating louder; he got his hopes up then down because

× you smelled like people; people he didn't know, people he wanted to know because he needed to know why did you smell like them? were they a treat? were they potential partners? he really did not want to ask bc Kirishima felt like it wasn't his place to know

× as tension grew in the house you decided to gift him a new phone, ready to give him some news that reached your ears

× it seems Kiri himself liked to do sports and mainly jog to keep himself active and he's started to pass by the local dog-park to play with the dogs

× imagine your surprise when a few neighbors asked you if he'd be willing to train their dogs bc he's been teaching them stuff like once a week and the dogs listened

× big time dog whisperer; he says "Sit" to one dog and all dogs in the neighborhood sit too, you get me?

× so you said it would be nice for him to have his own money; not like you didn't help him without care, but you saw his face every time you bought something for him and really felt like he needed some real independence

× he's in ✨awe✨ because you came up with clients already that were very eager for dog training sessions, which he loved??? and suggested hours, wages??????

× and you gave him this new phone to help him with it if he's interested too?

× "Well, the normal price on the internet around the area is—"

× "[Y/N]."

× "Hmm?"

× "You're really amazing, you know that, right?" he'd have his lips curled into a sweet smile

× which makes your heart go crazy and this man notices how you get flustered

× loves it

× get ready for compliments; a lot of compliments just expecting your sweet flustered reactions

× he's slow at realizing your feelings for him because he beats himself down and seems himself as less of a man but tests the waters nonetheless and a d o r e s every time you struggle to thank him for said compliments and don't know how to continue functioning

× catches on and gets his hopes up

× and so you do

× listen, this is hilarious because you're both dumb idiots and want to be respectful towards the other meanwhile he hugs you tighter and for a little bit too long, loving how you melt into him, kisses you on the cheek and sees you get all flustered, looks at you like you're the only one to ever matter until you stop talking, turning everything into a giant mess of silence until you both grin at each other???? I'm getting second-hand embarrassment, just kiss???????

× and it happened with an accidental kiss

× you greeted him as he walked through the door, excited to tell him about your promotion, rambling about the take-out you ordered while he smiled at you

× and it started to be usual for you to greet him with a kiss on the cheek, right? just what normal roomies do, you know [mhmm~]

× he's taking his shoes off and knows the kiss is coming, but just before you press it on his cheek you whisper/squeal "I got the promotion!" to which he turns his head in surprise at you making your lips press together by accident [mhhhmmmmm~~~]

× cue both of you apologizing, looking like a mess

× he's blushing

× you both loved it

× why are you standing so close to each other?

× why did he lick his lips in daze while staring at yours?

× which one of you was leaning in for another kiss?

× it didn't really matter because he's kissing you slowly, taking you into his arms like you were made of porcelain

× glues his body to yours and breathes you in, lips locked, neither believing it was real

× lifts you up in his arms with no difficulty and smiles, both inches separated from another; "Congratulations..." his breath would fan over your face;;;;

× yeah, okay, he takes no time to confess, resulting in a mess of manly words skdjekldj you guys talked that whole night while cuddling and stealing kisses, you on his lap

× [ his nose brushing your neck; he loves your scent omg ]

× it becomes official pretty much instantly and then all your worries wash away

× all the anxiety, all the stress and overthinking, they've all been sorted out in one night and trust me, afterwards this man is pure honesty and loyalty

× he won't hesitate to talk to you about anything and will be such a patient sweetheart with you, listening to every word you say without judgment

× loves cheesy stuff? as in the most cliché stuff seen in movies? that's his shit right there; whenever you two see each other after some time apart [sometimes 5 minutes apart] he'd pick you in his arms and spin you around, then expect you to kiss him

× if you don't, i will skfjdkfk step aside 👀

× skin contact; please, touch him

× if you're not he sends you those famous puppy eyes and we all know they're killer

× sighs, happy to hold you tight against him, engulfing you into his big frame; yeah, you're where you belong, in his arms.

× everyone in the neighborhood loves him; it's ridiculous, seriously, because you find out he helped around all the time when you were at work and gained everyone's love

× makes an instagram account to teach people how to train their dog and becomes an internet sensation, a small celebrity

× also bc he's hot and sometimes posts working out pics

× skdksjs imagine this: makes dinner for both of you, lits up some candles, goes all in, then fucking posts it on ig saying "waiting for my baby to come home #surprise" forgetting you can see it lmfao

× you see the story on your way home and 🥺💞 "ye i love his oblivious ass"

× soft gasps when you tell him after dinner

× has the audacity to be surprised, like babe????

× Kaminari finds him through social media and this baby cries in relief for a good half an hour

× both team up to find all the gang

× guess who talks praises about you all the time? mhm, this guy right here is proud to have you

× and Denki has to deal with it;

× anywho! want to break him for good? tell him you love him for the first time

× GETS. SO. EXCITED. AND. EMOTIONAL.

× but forgets how to speak

× finds his words to say it back after staring at you entranced, grinning like an idiot, taking you in his arms and giving you a bone crushing hug while shaking in place

× he's never felt this loved and adores every second of it

× you're like a drug and he's deep gone, man

× tells you he loves you every single day

#kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #noire writes #hybrid!au #hybrid!kirishima #kirishima headcanons #does anyone remember kirishima saying pompom? cuz it's been on my mind for hours and i love it

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

𖨆. 01 / all for us

summary: you wake up in a room that seems to be made specifically for you. as it turns out, it is made for you. you find that out when levi ackerman and erwin smith come in to the room and admit you aren’t allowed to leave. how are the first few days?

word count: +2.0k

warnings/notes: cursing, mentions of drugging, mentions of kidnapping, slight manipulation, abuse, violence, and starvation

YOU never thought that you would end up as a canary. a pretty yellow bird with dark dull eyes as you sat in a cage, a trap.

it all started when you met him. the devil incarnate. erwin smith.

he was charismatic young man, sitting at the age of 35 as he held the title of a prosecutor in court. you find it ironic, he puts vile criminals into jail but overlooks himself, the most vile of them all.

he met you at a café. the coffee beans were grinding in the machine at the counter, you remember how you relished in the smell.

when he first caught sight of you, you were scribbling on notebook paper with a nice black ballpoint pen. the gold framing of the pen shined in the light as you twirled it between your fingers. you looked slightly frazzled, but also at ease; something erwin was not used to seeing. you had white earbuds with the slight appearance of brown on the cords in your ears, hooked up to a laptop that you would occasionally glance at.

erwin thought you were a beauty.

you remember how he sat across from you, smoothly initiating a conversation with you. he was delighted to find out that you were a pianist along with a violinist, he loves classical music. you explained to him that you were struggling to create a song for your performance the next week, that all the music notes were just starting to contort into doodles.

when he helped you, that's when you felt grateful. you remember how he mentioned his partner, levi ackerman, and his own enjoyment of the piano. he asked for your number along with the venue where you would be performing.

you gave him the information easily, seemingly ecstatic about someone coming to your performance.

the next week after your performance, you met levi. he was curt and blunt, his difference from erwin had almost given you whiplash. luckily, you learned to adapt and you even would quip back at him playfully. it managed to make him smile, just a little. you enjoyed his company just as much as you did erwin's, something the two of them were happy about.

it wasn't until weeks later of hanging around them that it all went downhill. you went drinking with the two of them, easily complying to levi's request to drink more and more of your alcoholic beverage. it was the last drink that had you realizing that no other drink you had ever had was salty like this. you collapsed shortly after.

you remember waking up in a room, decorated to accommodate you and your interests. there was a white bookshelf that had gold framing splayed onto it with a vast selection of novels. there were three soft and plush chairs by the bookshelf with a soft rug underneath. a small coffee table sat in the middle of the rug.

there was a large bay window with a gorgeous view of a colorful and bio-diverse garden. cushions and throw pillows were placed onto the windowsill, another place for you to sit. the bed you'd awoken in was a queen, heavy cotton sheets messily spread across the bed. around the the room and even on the ceiling were soft yellow lights disguised as vines. directly across from the bed was a vanity and above that hung a nice flat screen TV. the night stands beside your bed held lamps and small knick knacks that you could entertain yourself with.

there were three doors. one to the left of your bed, one to the right of your bed, and one to the right of your television. you found out later that the one by your television was a small bathroom with nothing but a toilet and sink. the door to your right side of the bed was a walk-in closet that was decorated in clothing you'd never be able to afford.

you remember how after that, levi and erwin barged in as you panicked and started to pace around the room. you remember defying them, cursing them, hitting them, kicking them, and even spitting at them.

with a silent look from levi, erwin's distraught face turned slightly sad. his eyes were misty as he shuffled himself outside of the room. when levi's knee came into contact with your face, you realized why. especially whenever the gushing of blood dripped out of your nose and his voice screamed that none of this was their fault, but your's instead.

but now, levi was once again punishing you. you hadn't meant to do it. you hadn't meant to slap erwin. while you had a panic attack, your muscles thrashed without your command and you ended up slapping erwin across his face. you were secretly satisfied when you saw the pained look he gave you, but it immediately turned to dread whenever levi's rough hands pulled at your hair.

he's kicking you once again, and he occasionally accompanies it with a harsh slap.

"i didn't mean to, i didn't mean to!!!" your sobs sound so broken as you land on your side from levi kicking you.

levi ignores you, forcing you to stare at erwin, who sits at the door of your bed with that same neutral look sprinkled with pain.

"please!!!" you plead as you squeeze your eyes shut, "please, i didn't mean to!! i didn't meant to hit him!!"

levi stops his assaults, staring at your cowering form from above. the collar around your neck connected with chains clang against each other as you wearily raise your head.

erwin and levi are expecting a small whimper of pleas, but instead they watch as you slam your head against the hardwood floor. it has you reeling but even so, you continue. you're slipping into another violent mental breakdown, head banging against the floor as your other hand punches at your hipbone continuously.

your teeth are gritted as you start banging your ankle against the ground.

within seconds, levi and erwin are moving you onto your bed and holding down your thrashing limbs. they're murmuring sweet nothings to you, a hand on your forehead holding your head down against the pillow. you sob out again, entering the stage of hyperventilation and wails. erwin is crying along with you while levi just reminds you to breathe.

levi's hands are pressing your's on his chest and over his heart. his heartbeat guides you into stable breathing. when you've calmed down, you enter the shutdown stage.

"there we go," erwin praises and strokes a thumb against your cheekbone, "back to breathing."

levi stares at his boyfriend, who’s muttering something in your ear, but turns his attention back to you whenever you let out a small grunt.

"she wants to watch a movie," erwin says, pressing kisses to your cheek.

"any movie in particular? if not, i'll put on scooby doo; i remember you saying that it comforted you once," he grumbles while he turns on the television.

you don't answer, unsurprisingly, and levi puts on 'what's new, scooby doo?' for you. levi lays back next to you, cuddling into your warm and unmoving body.

it takes two episodes of watching the show for you to start letting out small, yet forced, giggles at some parts of the show. it takes two more for you to be able to speak again.

"food," that's all you said.

erwin shakes his head and wags a finger, "how do you ask properly?"

"can i have some food, please," you sound so tired.

the two men nod and leave your room to get you a meal. you sit up quietly and look down to your hands. they always left your hands untouched, seemingly trying to protect them from the abuse that levi would put onto you.

"stupid, fucking stupid," you spat, "this is their fault, not mine. their fault, their fault, their fault."

you drill the words into your head, but are soon interrupted whenever erwin enters the room with a tray of food.

"you're even sitting up now," he acknowledges while he puts the tray on the bed in front of you.

you thank him quietly and try to ignore the large hand stroking your hair.

"i love you," he doesn't. you don't do this to those you love. zeke never did this to you.

erwin frowns at your silence, hand now tilting your face to look at him. instead of love, your eyes were filled to the brim with hatred.

"you'll come to love us soon enough," he has no ounce of emotion on his face as his finger softly rubs against your skin.

"i doubt it," you mumble and force your face out of his hand. you just want to eat.

when you look down at the tray, you notice the absence of forks and knives. it has your stomach dropping.

"i'm feeding you," erwin says, fork between his long fingers, "we can't trust you with knives just yet."

erwin stabs the fork into cut up chicken breast on your plate, holding it up to your chapped lips. you stare at the food, had it been drugged?

"i don't want to be fed."

"that's too bad. you're being fed anyway, we can't trust you with forks either just yet," he grabs ahold of your jaw and forces your head to turn towards him.

his thumb and index finger squeeze your cheeks, forcing your mouth open with ease. you jerk away at the food suddenly being forced down your throat, hacking as if you were trying to get it up.

"let me chew first," you cough, handing reaching to touch gently at your adam's apple.

erwin doesn’t respond, opting to put another piece of the food onto the fork. he holds it out towards you, patiently waiting for you to stop choking and to eat again. you clear your throat, the idea of willingly letting erwin feed you makes you sick. you don't want to submit.

"i won't eat anything if you don't let me use the fork myself," you feel a headache coming on, fingers now pressing against your temples.

"then i guess you just won't eat," he says with a hint of sadness, taking the tray back into his hands.

you're so hungry. and the smell of the grilled chicken breast with a side of mashed potatoes isn't helping. you don't want to submit. you can't submit, you won't survive.

"guess that's settled then," you flop back down onto your back.

it wasn't the answer or reaction that erwin was expecting, judging by his widened eyes and stiff posture. he relaxes as he shakes his head in disapproval, walking out of the room and locking the door behind him.

you stare blankly at the ceiling while trying to ignore the growling of your stomach. your head hurts from the lack of food, another thing you're trying to ignore.

you turn on your side, but immediately cry out in pain. levi's earlier assault was starting to form bruises on your body, and the idea that you couldn't even curl into a ball made you want to cry. you hiss when you shuffle back onto your back, ignoring the searing pain that shoots through your ribs and sides.

your eyelids feel heavy after you settle down for a while, finally able to ignore all of the pain you've endured.

————

when you wake up, it's raining. there's not much natural light coming into your room, which you're okay with.

a pang of pain shoots through your head when you sit up, hands immediately grabbing at your hair and nails digging into your scalp. the tugging of your hair made your headache a little more bearable even if it was for a second.

the sound of your stomach growling and chains clinking echos through the quiet room, causing you to look down at your stomach. the chains are cold against your skin, tiny shivers spreading across your stomach.

you sigh and get yourself out of the bed. you walk to your bathroom, peeing with your face buried in your hands on the toilet. you ignore the fluorescent lights, which make your head hurt worse, and wash your hands aggressively.

you look up in the mirror as you do so, but you wish you hadn't. your eyes were puffy from the tears you shed yesterday and there's now a bruise on your swollen cheek from levi's smacking. you hold back the urge to punch the mirror, instead wiping your hands off with a towel and chucking it at the wall. you slam the door behind you and start to walk pass the three chairs meant for you, erwin, and levi. a wave of dizziness has you stopping and holding onto it, eyes instinctively squeezing shut.

when it passes, you grab a book and a throw blanket that's sat on top of one of the chairs. you settle onto the cushions of the bay window, taking a moment to stare at the rain falling.

you open the book, 'perks of being a wallflower', and find yourself lost in the words.

it's when levi comes in with a tray of food that you realize an hour or so has passed. he looks shocked to see you sitting and reading in silence, checking his watch as if he were making sure he didn't wake up late.

"got you food since erwin had to go to work. it's belgium waffles with some fruit and bacon on the side," he sits down next to your, now, curled up legs and puts the tray on the opposite side of him.

you wince at the mention of food and at curling your legs close. it doesn't go unnoticed.

"maybe if you didn't act out you wouldn't be in so much pain now," he says, holding out a piece of the waffle and a hand under to make sure the syrup doesn't drip onto the blanket.

"i'm not going to be fed. i'm not a child," you stare at the food.

"you're going to starve to death if you don't eat. quit being stubborn and fucking eat. i don't feel like cleaning up a body," he snarls and you resist the urge to kick his hand away.

"if you let me feed myself, i'll eat. then, you won't have to worry about digging me a hole."

"you haven't earned that privilege. we feed you for now."

"then i guess i don't eat," your eyebrows are furrowed as you stare at him.

"you're stupid. you'll end up dying."

"rather die than be fed like a child."

"you've got some pride. maybe i can beat it out of you," he drops the fork onto the plate.

"if you beat me anymore then you might actually have to worry about a body," you avert your eyes back to your book.

"if it's what needs to be done," he crosses his arms, "speaking of bodies, your's reeks."

"i don't have a shower in my bathroom, i can't help you with that issue," you shrug and flip the page.

"you can."

"i'm not letting you bathe me either. i'm not stupid. if you're feeding me then you're obviously going to be bathing me."

he chuckles a little at your defiance, but you know it's forced. you can smell the frustration on his body and your ego inflates knowing that you're the one who got him to be like that.

"when you decide you want to live, knock at the door and call for me," he grabs the tray and leaves the room, once again locking the door behind him.

"i can wait eight more days before i die."

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #levi x reader #levi ackerman #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi attack on titan #snk levi #erwin x levi #erwin smith #snk erwin #erwin x reader #aot erwin #dark content #sorrels.allforus💒

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leonakingscholarship · 2 years

Text

TW// mentions of self harm, body shamming, vomiting

Hello everyone it's me Serenity hehe

These past few days, I've been quite down and literally no motivation to move at all. I wanted to take a break from Tumblr for a few days but at the same time, I don't. Tumblr is the only place rn where I can find happiness and taking a break from Tumblr is kinda hard for me.

I've been doubting myself lately. A LOT. Misery is lingering in my whole body and I can't even look into my family's eyes without wanting to cry. I've doubted every one and everything I can do and have. I don't thinking I'm a lovable person, I feel like shit.

I do have friends (ol and irl) and the thing is, only 1 or 2 out of those people genuinely care about me. But do they really? I don't know anymore. Not only that, when in a group of friends and one of them decided to pull up with fucking favoritism, it makes me want to die, genuinely. It makes me feel like I am loved/liked less compared to others. Is it that hard to treat your friends equally especially when you entered their friend group? 🙁 But who am I to complain? Who am I to question them? Who am I to feel sad? I'm just a random stranger they met online. And because of my internal doubt, I don't think anyone actually cares about me as I, myself, think that I literally don't have anything that can be loved

I'm brainless, I also almost failed every subject I have and I don't even have anything I'm good at at school. Yeah, I can draw, but I'm not good at it. I say that every art is beautiful but my mind is starting to exclude my own art. Also, one time someone asked me 5 things I like about me, I had to think about atleast a few answers so hard since I really couldn't think of anything. Literally nothing is special about me

One of my wishes is for me to stop being attached to someone easily. Because of that, it hurts me a lot when I get attached to someone whether I know them personally or online and it turns out, I am just nothing to them

I lost all my motivation to move and my past few drawings are made with force. As I said, I almost failed school because of loss of motivation and another thing that bugs my head but I wouldn't talk about it. And since I lost motivation to do school, I only draw for the sake of me being happy even just for a little bit but now, my art is starting to look like shit in my eyes. Nothing makes me happy anymore and I feel like sadness and loneliness are swallowing me little by little

It came to the point where I stood on the kitchen, making a coffee. I was going to take scissors but the knife took my attention. I was trying my best to ignore the knife and not let my thoughts take over me to harm my body but I suddenly took the knife and placed it on my thigh, I was going to slash it but it was dull and I managed to stop myself from doing so and to not grab the sharper knife to use instead. I hate my thighs so much, they are big and always gets made fun of which I think is why it's the first thing I've thought of to harm amongst all my body and use it to let out my feelings. My so called "friends" makes fun of my arms and thighs the most which results to me hating it SO MUCH. They'll also call me "dead hungry" (which is translated as patay gutom in our language but I don't know the english term to it) or "greedy" and even make fun of my breasts and call them "saggy". Every time I'll take more spoonful of rice, I always feel guilty, I always feel like everyone is judging me. And I feel that every stare is like a dagger stabbing me and I fill up with guilt.

Earlier, I purposely vomited what I ate as I was breaking down in the bathroom. It kinda felt nice, it made me feel less guilty that I eat a lot.

Every time I'll look at the mirror, I am always disgusted by the sight facing me. I always feel like I'm ugly and no matter how much someone compliments me, I never believe them. The words "ugly", "cow", and "whale" are carved on my brain and they wouldn't leave. I feel so ugly and disgusting from head to toe.

I also remember one time which shattered me SO MUCH when we had a project, you need to have a partner since it's a partner/duo activity and one of my classmate was talking to his friend (which is also my classmate) and as I was sitting on my desk, I overheard them because they were behind me. "Find me a partner, anyone, I don't care who" then his friend replied, "[my name]" , it caught my attention even more and his reply was "Anyone but her" then they proceed to laugh hard. It shattered me so much especially because they had the guts to talk about me like that behind me, literally behind me. He was also the guy who talked about my body once or maybe more

I don't know anymore. I don't know what to do anymore. Drawing was the only thing that makes me happy when doing personal things but I slowly view my own art as "ugly". Here I go again, comparing my art to others. I wish I had the talent, I wish I had the skills, I wish my own art isn't ugly, I really want to improve but I literally don't want to move and do anything. There was a hint of lie when I mentioned that I was enjoying drawing those little comic strips. I feel so drained, so lonely, so fucking worthless, useless, and a big disappointment

#sorry for venting here everyone #tw: self harm #(almost self harm)#tw: vomit #tw: body negativity #tw: body talk #tw: body insecurity #tw: self doubt

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coffee-bat · 3 years

Text

sure i do! (posting screenshot of ask for easier formatting)

(also, i have a whump headcannons ask that i've been compiling the response to for the past weeks (anon who asked, i'm so sorry it's taking so long, i'm not ignoring your ask), so this one will focus strictly on everything OTHER than whump.)

- he often bites his nails when stressed, or even just bored (or when he has no cigar on hand. he has a thing for chewing/nibbling on things). stopping himself from doing it is one of the reasons he wears gloves (other than for warmth and to shield his hands from damage), as having his nails bit too short is painful and can make his work almost impossible. (saying this as a nail biter. you literally CANNOT use a finger that you bit the nail of too short)

- speaking of stimming, aside from biting things, he uses the compass around his neck as a stim toy. it's useless around him, as his own magnetic field renders it impossible to point north as it should, but he'll often play with it by making it spin through altering his field. it requires both focus and a small bit of physical effort, effectively taking his mind off whatever's stressing him, at least for a short bit until he gets bored.

- he thinks he can cook, but anyone who's ever tried his cooking strongly disagrees. while his techniques are okay, like he doesn't burn or undercook stuff, the things he makes are borderline inedible. (he once made a party cheese salad for a family meeting and lowkey bonded with moreau over him being the only one to like the atrocity)

- he's the youngest of the lords (with the age order being alcina>moreau>donna>karl). donna looks younger than him, however it's mostly because of his healing factor being worse than the others', making him actually age (even if very slow) instead of being stuck in time.

- he DESPISES family meetings, along with the family dinners miranda keeps insisting on (which take place either at the castle or at donna's place, as moreau's reservoir and the factory are unsuited for that to say the least), but the latter's redeeming factor is that, if he's lucky, he gets a unique opportunity to fuck with alcina. which usually means eating her out of house and home (using the fact that she's too proud of her good manners to refuse a guest), getting drunk, wrecking her house (muddy boots who?) and then passing out somewhere. it gives him the opportunity to make himself her problem and he loves that. (i've actually started work on a comic a few weeks ago where alcina kicks karl off a random couch she finds him on (in a food coma), a shitposty thing with a SLIGHTLY wholesome-ish ending (as wholesome as alcina gets), but it was taking so long that i just gave up at some point. though, if any of y'all would like to see it finished, let me know, it'd be easier to motivate myself to do it if i knew anyone actually wanted me to lol)

- he holds animals close to his heart but would hate to admit it, in fear of appearing weak or soft. claims that he lets the one (1) cat stay in his factory ONLY because it helps with rats, totally not for company because he's a sad lonely man, what are you talking about.

-he's neither a cat or dog person, he likes both equally, but it'd be far harder to keep a dog in his quarters, seeing as it would require both more space and regular walks + playtime, while a cat is perfectly happy with just getting to sleep on him at night (in terms of contact/bonding).

- though, while he doesn't have a dog, he lowkey treats the lycans as such. keeps them under his control solely through giving them dog treats he buys from the duke. (took him a long time and lots of claw/teeth injuries to figure that out, but hey, better late than never).

--warning: the next few paragraphs discuss weight insecurity and body dysmorphia. i'll let you know when the segment ends so you can skip it if it's triggering or makes you uncomfortable--

- he's insecure about his body, both the scars littered across it and his weight. the first can't be helped and he's aware of it, however the latter TECHNICALLY CAN be and thus it bothers him far more. he used to be in a better shape, both mentally and physically, before his life was completely consumed by his work and plans of the rebellion, however these days, he just can't afford to focus on keeping himself in shape (he doesn't have the time and energy to exercise outside of the weight lifting he has to do while working, and same goes for taking care of his diet. cooking and eating balanced food takes too much time and energy, making him resort to whatever is the quickest to make and will keep him going through the day). he feels intense discomfort when looking at younger pictures of himself, he can't help but feel that he has "let himself go" in the recent years, however simultanously doesn't have the time and energy to do anything about it. it's frustrating and makes him feel out of control.

- alcina once touched on the topic while arguing with him, and it fucked him up. up until then he clang onto the small bit of hope that maybe noone has noticed the changes in his body, that maybe it was just him that was hypersensitive to it and in reality it wasn't that visible, and alcina's comment instantly shattered it. not only did she notice, but she apparently considered it worthy of using against him. there goes his last bit of confidence.

- it was one of the very few times she has seen him actually cry (before storming off to hide himself in his factory). it was also one of the few times she had apologized to him. she has made comments about his height and general looks before, and it never seemed to bother him, he always retorded back with a snarky remark targeted back at her, so she truly thought he had no insecurity issues- but this time, for the first time, he just looked hurt, almost disbelieving, and ran away without a word. it made her initial anger melt away instantly, realizing what she did. she ran after him a few minutes later, hoping it wasn't too late and she hadn't done unreversable damage. the whole incident was a major blow to her ego, especially as she was forced to beg karl over the intercom to let her in, but she wouldn't have forgiven herself if she didn't tell him that she was sorry and didn't mean it. she had to admit to herself that it truly was a low blow and she couldn't let herself be carried away like this ever again.

- karl's confidence never really healed from the incident, it's not something he can just forget. but he did get a kick out of having alcina beg for forgiveness, so he considers at least that to be an upside of the whole thing.

--weight/body dysmorphia discussion ends here--

- he gets sensory overloads easily, especially from loud noise, making him snappy if there's too many people talking/making noise. he also often has issues with things touching him when he's already stressed - due to this, he keeps a hairband in his pocket at all times (to keep his hair out of his face), and has tied the belt of his trench coat behind his back so it wouldn't touch his arms while moving around (that one is actually part of his character model). having things hanging off him irritates him greatly.

- he has a tendency to cling onto/hug whatever is in his reach while he's asleep. usually it's a pillow or his blanket, but it's also a risk one should be aware of when choosing to sleep in one bed with him. you're gonna wake up in a death grip. and he's a heavy sleeper, so don't even think about going to the bathroom.

- speaking of physical affection, he loves massages, they're one of his favorite types of affection to receive. any kind of them, really. he's sore most of the time, so a bit of relief is always greatly appreciated. back/shoulders after a long day of work, tummy if his cadou is bothering him or his eating habits fucked him over again, maybe even hands if he's worked manually for too long and his palms are starting to cramp. it's all really appreciated. (another factor contributing to why he likes them is that they're completely selfless acts of affection. his partner isn't getting anything out of it (like they would with anything sexual or romantic), its only purpose is to help him feel better. makes him feel loved.)

- speaking of, he literally cried the first time ethan gave him a shoulder rub. feeling the decades worth of pain, tiredness and muscle strain that he didn't realize he felt finally fade, be washed away, made his eyes water, he couldn't help it. it wasn't long after they had moved in together (as roommates, since karl had nowhere to go), and to karl, it felt like an affirmation that it's over, he can relax, he can rest now. no need to keep overworking himself, to keep not letting himself ever catch a break because "he might like it too much and stop chasing his goal", to keep doing anything to keep himself going for years on end despite knowing it's ruining his body. it's done, it's over, he finally deserves a rest. it made ethan deeply confused and concerned before karl sobbed out why he's crying.

these are all for now, i think! at least all that comes to mind at the moment. if you'd like me to talk about headcannons on a specific subject/topic (or expand on any of these ones), let me know! i'm sure to think of something that i haven't already, or forgot to write down. i just love talking about headcannons, man.

#this bitch took me 2 hours to write i really hope you like it #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #headcannons #long post

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

Where I Can't Follow

Vibe for sad

Icarus is flying too close to the sun. And his wings may not melt, but this time it can break. Where the wind takes him will not be enough.

Pairings -> Venti x Reader?

Word Count -> 1416

Themes -> Sad hours, Abandonment Issues, ACTUAL short fic

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event)

Warnings -> I seem to only know how to hurt Venti

"Can you tell me more about Celestia?" The said island of where ancients dwelled passes over past the moon as it was noticed and mentioned.

A strum. "The land of the divine?" A nod. "Why, it's a land of bland wine!"

A chorus of their laughters passes over as Celestia once again departs from the skies of Mond.

"Come now, Venti, tell me more!" A hum.

And his demeanor changes when his teal eyes bore on yours, a smile so soft and small, almost unnatural. "Celestia takes more than what we offer, and it is those that it takes which I loathe for."

Do not praise Celestia, for one day it shall take you away too.

Venti had yearned freedom for another. And you remember this tale much more vividly than the others. About the bard, who fought valantly for freedom.

When he sings to you, despite the fact that you had lived thosands of years past the deceased you feel the remnants of the pioneer, like the enigma the Anemo Archon is that stands before you.

You've heard the tales of the bard while by the hands of the Archon's statue and he speaks fondly of him, and ever since then Venti never speaks about him beyond that area. The bard's name or tale seems like a sacred tale that can only be spoken in that divine place. When you sit next to him and watch as his eyes distantly lingers at a land far away from reach, you realized that the direction he faces was where the ruins of the old city lays.

"He was my first friend." You also notice that beyond his mantra that the rhymes loosen up, disappear in the winds when you two sit there. As if he was stripped bare of what he made himself to be. That it was not the image of the bard that he has reincarnated himself to was speaking but the sprite from the war that only wishes to dance with the thousand winds under the symphony of a human's lyre.

"But you're here now! Just like the good old times! At least now, there's nothing that can kill you."

You give him a deadpan at the humor that was not at all. Even if he makes light of the situation you knew he was still aching and trembling inside, his resolve shedding the more he thinks. The more he remembers.

The word death was a touchy subject for him despite his immortality, and he can never finish his tale despite the many times he recited the whole story to you. Why would he detest it? After all it was his sacrifice that has given thousand of years of freedom for the populace. You want to be a hero? Then you'll have to die like one.

Another icon he speaks of so fondly was that of Venessa, the flame-touched knight that became the exemplar of freedom as its hero. When he had awoken to the new age of aristocracy, it was their chance meeting that had made him aware of the changes he dreaded.

Solitude and 500 years away from Mondstadt and its people, to grow on their own without the issue of divine intervention was his recipe for the exercise of freedom. But they turned unhinged and he once again had to intervene to revert it back to its glory.

Venessa was the epitome of paradox over the concept of freedom and slavery, and that of devotion for her people and for Celestia.

"I don't see what's so good about Celestia really," Venti grumbles to himself as you two lay under the shade of the Windrise tree, "but far from this place, I see the appeal of divinity."

You've always liked Windrise for its glorious towering crown as well as the history behind it. This is where the hero ascends to Celestia, her prayers she had uttered her whole life finally received as she ascends to be one of the four winds that continues to protect Mondstadt.

The word feels distasteful on the tip of his tongue, almost spitting it with venom. And you've never seen Venti look over anything with such distaste, besides cheese. But it seems it isn't just Celestia that hurts him now.

And maybe, despite the facade he has shown as the ever-loving God Barbatos, when Dvalin begged for release and freedom from his duty as one of the four winds— despite the years that he had waited for his cleansing, singing to his friend and calling for him to keep it together.

You knew Venti had lost another friend. He didn't want to be selfish, he couldn't be selfish, for he would be a hypocrite of a god to do so.

You can see the longing in the way his eyes twinkles whenever he looks up at the skies, a third layer of masked sadness dwells within it. And when he hugs you tightly as he weeps for both the loss and unshackling, there was a desperation and silent prayer in the way he squeezes you.

You and him realized it together that day. The other side of the coin that is freedom, had taken too much from Venti. And despite being its archon, he was tied down to his city, until his non-existent death he would be there forever. Watching every person move past his life, ascension after death, and death and death.

You thought to yourself, if immortality had given you all that is forever to live it, why does it feel as tho it jails your beloved Venti?

You always knew the capabilities of Venti and his permanence in this world, but as you rush over to his slouched form by Windrise, you couldn't help but release a tear in how broken and drained he looked. You took him in your arms and he succumbs like a lifeless doll so easily.

"It's okay, I can still heal myself," the gnosis that acts as the badge of his archon status had been taken away from his forcefully, beaten by a woman to the ground, his powers yanked out by the use of forbidden power meant to deter the likes of him.

You slip down to the grassy bed, his head laid on your lap as Venti tries to regain his strength without the help of the device that contains a huge chunk of his divine power. The hands on his cheeks tremble and he smiles to himself, nuzzling it. Silly human, he mumbles, I'm not going anywhere.

You were not knowledgeable on his capabilities without his gnosis, and you were scared that like the tales of the end of gods, he'd slip from your hands in the form of a fleeting somber wind. His element.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pour out all the desperation and pleas in your loud mind, please don't take him away, please be safe, please make him come back to how he was before.

In the dead of night with only the sound of the breeze lulling your silence, way above towers—

Celestia listens.

To the heavens may you fly.

Venti's glare was much, much harsher than the biting frost that threatens to tip him over back to the snow hundreds of feet below. The tip of Dragonspine's mountain held no regards for those who need to breathe, a crown of swirling clouds shying it away from distant and prying eyes.

He strums his lyre fiercely as a gale current of the same intensity manifests around him, his wind glider manifesting and instantly opening at the force. He managed to lift himself high enough to break through the clouds and it was a magnificent, magical sight of dazzling blue.

And yet his hand can only reach out at the dot of an island that was thousand of years away from his grasp, his weakened powers dissipates and he floats back down the winter land on his knees.

Venti bangs his fists against the snow as hard as he can and sobs, his tear immediately freezing over before it even passes his cheek. He can't reach that high up, he can't fly over in such a weakened state, despite being the archon of the winds himself.

Curses, he screams at the vortex that eats it whole, the divine has taken from him once again.

"I told you, not to go, where I can't follow."

Now he is alone, stuck in the city of freedom. Maybe he has been awake for too long.

@ellitx @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie

#genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #genshin impact #exile.flower #sojourner special #genshin impact venti #gender neutral #this one is weird #very short #big oof #ACCIDENTALLY POSTED AGAIN

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yannasunflower · 3 years

Text

dust to dust | chapter two

chapter one | chapter two

ao3

You don't know what makes you save Kuroo Tetsurou's life. All you know is there is no world to save anymore, but damn if you're just stupid enough to try.

Genre: hurt/comfort/romance/angst Rating: Mature, subject to change (gore, violence) Kuroo x fem!Reader Word count: 3.5k

hey everyone! here's chapter two, as promised. this fic is also cross-posted to AO3, where i'm under the same username. linked above as well! next chapter, action picks up, plot picks up, and we get more Kuroo, promise. enjoy, and as always, please reblog, like, and comment <3

Nobody ever told you how absolutely boring a zombie apocalypse could be.

Your ragtag group of survivors have scavenged what entertainment they can - books and gym equipment, even a few board games. People like Suga and Takeda keep busy with the children, teaching them to read and garden and how to survive if mommy and daddy never come back for them.

You open one lazy eye as a gaggle of them stumble after Suga, hanging on to his every word.

You’re not sure how the two men handle placing a long knife in a child’s chubby hand, fingers barely able to grip it,and showing them how to strike right at a nighstalker’s heart, fast and deep. Their giggles float through the air and the sound is almost dreamlike and if you keep your eyes closed, you can pretend this is a movie and when you open them, the credits will roll and you can go home.

Others tend to the elderly, of which there are only three in your group. You try to keep them comfortable and as far from danger as possible. But your body constantly prickles with the knowledge that they aren’t just vulnerable - they are a vulnerability. A hole in the brick wall you are attempting to build around this little community.

The healthy and fit young people patrol and take rotations on the watchtowers. Teenagers help with the lessons. Takeda had been firm about this. Once a kid turned seventeen, they were allowed to join the patrols, but until then, they stayed sequestered away.

It was almost comical, telling a tall, strong, angry Tobio that he had to mind the children. He towers over you, but he had bent to your will after a brief glaring contest. And then a week later, Shoyo had bounded into everyone’s hearts, including his, and the pair were inseparable.

Kiyoko, for her part, had taken one look at Yachi, shivering at Hinata’s side, and adopted her, sweeping her under a protective wing and keeping her there.

For people like you, who have no “bedside manner” as Kiyoko puts it, there are chores and day to day mini emergencies to keep you busy. Somehow, in the months since the world finally decided to fall apart, you have become mediator and negotiator. It’s an unlikely role; you can see your mother’s arched brow if she was still alive to see you now.

You barely have the patience for grocery shopping.

She would have laughed, elbowing your father, who would have made a valiant attempt at a straight face.

These are useless memories but you allow yourself to indulge for a moment. You have nothing better to do. Lunch is cooking, inventory has been completed, the guard rotation is set for the next two weeks. Ukai had waved you off this morning when you finally managed to corner him, complaining about your ceaseless energy and the “mad glint” in your eye. His words.

“That look means trouble for me,” he had growled, pointing an accusing finger at you. “Go to your cell and get some sleep for the love of anything you find holy.” Without another word, the man had leaned against a wall, put his feet up on his desk, and closed his eyes. A clear dismissal. You tried not to huff but you definitely stomped a little bit on the way out.

You don’t know how to tell him that staying in your cell, with your eyes closed, is inviting the living nightmares. You don’t know how to tell anyone, really, that you are just as haunted as this prison, as Daichi’s eyes.

That the only holy thing left in this world is fear and if you succumb to that, you’ll never move again.

You let a sigh tumble out of you. Forcibly, you shove your thoughts in another direction.

It had been a week since you brought home your latest stray. Kuroo had spent the first three days doing little else but sleep and eat. Daichi has taken to walking him around the Pit every day, explaining the way things work, and Suga showed him his pride and joy just yesterday. Kuroo had been suitably impressed by the garden, if the generous second and third helpings Suga thought he was sneaking to him at dinnertime were anything to go by.

The man has filled out nicely. He looks less skeleton, more human after sleep and hot food. You had peeked in on him in the grey of dawn that morning after Daichi not-so-subtly hinted that Kuroo had been asking about you.

He sleeps curled up on his side, hair falling against his cheek. In another world, you would have taken a picture.

Kiyoko tells you that the men like him, that Tanaka has stopped regarding him with all the wariness of a stray cat, and that she’s pretty sure Yachi has a crush on him.

You open your eyes into a blazing afternoon, unsurprised to see the subject of your thoughts stretching in the courtyard, the weak sunlight rippling over his bare arms. His black hair is messy as ever and you are struck all over again by how tall he is.

Tobio got a new babysitter, you think with no small amount of amusement. The gangly teenager needs someone to keep him in line and frankly, you don’t have the time and Hinata is just as likely to suggest some stupid shit for them to get into as he is.

You are still stretched out like a cat on a bench, letting the sun warm you, half-hoping it will lull you into a nap.

It’s boredom, more than anything, that makes you turn your head toward Kuroo.

“If you’d like to get some exercise, we have equipment. I’m sure Noya can show you,” you call.

Kuroo jumps and swivels to look at you, eyes wide and so, so dark. You look away. Something about him is like staring at the sun; too long, and your eyes burn.

“Didn’t see you there,” he admits easily, sauntering over to your bench. You eye his approach, noting that he really must be feeling a lot better. His movements are more fluid now, lean muscles becoming apparent on his shoulders.

Daichi has blessed every woman, and a few men, in the Pit by finding Kuroo a pair of grey joggers and a muscle tank top for everyday wear.

“I don’t do well with sitting still,” he says, leaning over you. His head casts you in shadow, blotting out the sun. “This is something I think you can understand.”

Up close, you can see that the shadows beneath his eyes are retreating gradually. His smile looks less like a grimace today.

You hum, swinging your legs over the bench and sitting up. Blood rushes from your head and you lean back against your palms. Kuroo lowers himself to sit next to you.

“Daichi forces me to limit my rotations on the guard towers and patrols,” you answer. “When we first found this place and cleaned it out, I was working overtime and made myself sick. Him and Kiyoko have been conspirators against me ever since.”

Your fingers thrum against your thigh as you say this. You feel more than see Kuroo’s eyes on them.

“They love you,” he points out, a little unnecessarily.

You snort.

“Love is expensive nowadays and everyone in the Pit is broke.”

“You love them back even more.”

You glare at him but he is just looking at you, tracing the planes of your face. A frown tugs at your lips.

“How are you feeling?”

Kuroo rolls his shoulders experimentally, stretching his arms above his head.

“Better,” he affirms. “More like myself.”

“A nosy busybody who talks like a grandpa?”

“Exactly.”

He is grinning now and you have to fight to keep yourself from returning the expression.

The bruises on his face are yellow now. You estimate it will only take a couple more weeks of regular meals for his face to fill out and his skin to look youthful again. You don’t bother asking him how long he had been alone, what happened to his family. None of that matters now. The apocalypse is a great equalizer.

“I talked to Takeda and Kiyoko this morning,” you begin, leaning your head back and closing your eyes against the sun. “They agreed to give you another week before putting you on guard rotation.”

“I would appreciate that. I want to earn my keep, however I can.”

A ghost of a smile dances across your lips.

“You’re just bored,” you tease. It’s been a long time since you felt sleepy and loose enough to tease anyone.

“You say that now, but newbies get the shittiest schedule possible,” you warn him, unsure why you’re telling him this. “Be prepared. Once you’re back to top form, we’ll discuss sending you on patrols for medicine and expanding that garden of Suga’s.”

There’s silence but it’s comfortable, easy. You let yourself enjoy it for just a few moments before standing, opening your eyes and offering Kuroo a full smile and your hand.

As he shakes it, looking only a little confused, you wonder how much longer he would have survived on his own in the city.

“Welcome to the Pit,” you say before turning on your heel and walking away.

~~~

Nightmares are as plentiful as soil on Suga’s fingers.

A sliver of moonlight is all that keeps you from sinking into the darkness, skin clammy, chest heaving. Your fingers twist into the sheets. A prayer is whispered that you didn’t scream this time. You can’t bear the thought of Kiyoko running again, feet bare, knife in hand and tears glistening on her cheeks. Her utter, pure relief haunted you for a month.

It would be so easy, you think, to never get up again.

Kiyoko would care for you. Daichi would stop by, every day, and update you. Ukai would read to you, probably, or nap in your cell, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

These are the thoughts that force you up, out, stumbling into your worn boots, shrugging a jacket on.

Takeda finds you in the office hours later, hunched over inventory reports in his neat handwriting, hair pulled back. He puts a pot of coffee on and hands you a steaming mug, holding a hand out for the report you’re struggling to understand.

“Winter is coming,” you sigh as you hand it over. He doesn’t ask about the shadows beneath your eyes, doesn’t comment on the fact that it’s barely six-thirty in the morning and you’ve clearly been awake for a number of hours.

A smile quirks at his lips.

“I didn’t know Tanaka managed to get the TV’s up and running,” he jokes. You wave your hand in a vague gesture, taking another sip of the liquid heaven in your hand.

“We need to get winter supplies,” you answer and that sobers him up. He nods, slowly, eyes roving the paper.

“Winter isn’t for over six months,” he reminds you. An eyebrow is raised. A teacher, waiting for an explanation. In moments like these, you see the high school teacher that you’d found barricaded in his office, babbling a stream of students’ names that Daichi had quietly whispered as your group cut them down, reading them off their uniforms.

On Takeda’s worst nights, as you guarded the door to his cell, you’d heard those same names, apologies and nonsensical gibberish streaming from his mouth as he grappled with his dreams and feverish tremors.

You stand, stretching, before stepping in front of a map of the city that Suga had snagged on one of his patrols. It’s huge, taking up an entire wall. Little markers litter the paper, different colors, and you run your finger over the pale blue ones in the northeast corner.

“There’s a limited supply of winter clothes in the city. I don’t want other groups getting to it first - we don’t need that bastard holding it over our heads when we have food and they don’t,” you remind him. Your arms cross behind your back automatically. “With the snows, we’ll need snow boots. The kids need jackets and thermals. We need to completely outfit the prison’s entire water supply system to last through snowstorms. We need hot water before then or half of us are going to be too sick, and the other half will be taking care of them. We need medicine, too.”

You tick off each item on your fingers, pausing to consider if you’ve missed something. You’re probably missing ten somethings and you struggle to see what they are. You need more coffee.

Takeda is twenty-nine, but when you turn to look at him finally, he seems sixty, glasses dangling from his fingers, nose bridge pinched between his knuckles.

He mutters something suspiciously close to a curse under his breath before opening his eyes.

“You’re right,” he admits. “We’re going to need at least seven months to prepare.”

The morning is a whirlwind. You send the youngest children, always the earliest risers, to fetch Daichi and Kiyoko, both much more bright-eyed than they have any right to be. Takeda drags a yawning Ukai into the office moments later and Tanaka slouches after them. Suga pokes his head in to give you a little wave and knowing smirk that everyone else finds nonthreatening before ushering the children to the cafeteria for their breakfast.

You’re positive you’re not imagining the pale pink coating Daichi’s cheeks.

After explaining the situation, everyone sucks in a collective breath.

Tanaka never sits and always faces a door. From his corner of the room, he glowers at the map.

“Well, fuck,” he neatly summarizes. You nod your appreciation for his conciseness.

“We need to get a hold of meat,” Ukai points out. A something you had missed.

You grab a marker and the portable whiteboard Takeda had grabbed a few weeks ago. In neat characters, you begin documenting everything thrown around the table.

“Raising livestock will be another way to keep the little ones busy.”

“We can’t ask people to shower in cold water during winter, that’s cruel.”

“Tanaka, is there any way to get the heating system up and running by then?”

“What about air conditioning? We have to get through the summer to get to winter, and heat is just as likely to kill us.”

“If other groups realize what we’re doing, we could be in trouble.”

A headache is brewing somewhere behind your temples and you bite back a groan. Kiyoko pushes a cool water bottle into your hand and you know she isn’t fooled for one second.

“I think we’re missing someone here,” Kiyoko points out mildly after what feels like an eternity of circular conversation. All eyes turn to her and she’s unruffled, fingers still wrapped around her mug.

“Kuroo could be a huge help to a lot of this,” she continues. “I’m sure he can help Tanaka and Noya with everything on their list, and we need more able-bodied men on the patrols anyway. He can help us with medicine, our food supply, all of it.”

A furtive glance in Tanaka’s direction is not encouraging. He’s glowering, eyes hooded.

“We barely know him,” Tanaka hisses. You have to privately agree.

“We barely know each other,” Ukai shoots back. “We’ve been here, what, three months?”

“He hasn’t even been on a patrol yet and you want him helping us make important decisions that affect everyone, including the kids?”

“That’s unfair, and you know it, Tanaka,” Takeda says patiently, but somehow reproachfully at the same time. “Kuroo has been in no condition to patrol. The man was emaciated.”

Takeda continues, levying everyone at the table with a stern face.

“We all trust each other now because we took the gamble and brought people in and allowed time to prove it. It was always a risk, and it will always be a risk, but we can’t let that stop us. What we’re doing here is more important than just working together to survive.”

It’s a flowery, nice sentiment, to be expected from a literature teacher, and you barely hold back a snort at Ukai’s warning look.

“None of this matters,” you cut in. “Takeda’s right. And so is Kiyoko. He could be a huge help to you specifically, Tanaka, and he’s getting better every day but we have to give him time before he’s physically ready. You saw him when we brought him in – he was skin and bones.”

Tanaka subsides into grumbling acceptance and you take it as a win.

Daichi returns with Kuroo in tow just minutes later, and if Kuroo is at all confused, he doesn’t show it. He folds himself into a chair, all long limbs and wide feet.

The problems are laid out on the table again. You watch as Kuroo absorbs it, eyes narrowed, flicking sometimes to the map on the wall.

“Frankly, I wish we were in an apartment building,” Tanaka reveals after an hour of debating the best way to acquire livestock.

You sigh, rubbing the heel of your hand into your eyes hard enough to see colors. You know it’s not Tanaka’s fault, that he’s saying out loud something you’d privately thought before. That the electrical systems in apartment buildings would be much easier for him to coax into submission.

But you’re tired. Kiyoko is rubbing the old wound on her shoulder again, Ukai’s fingers are tapping a loud rhythm on the table, and Daichi is watching you lose your mind with that same placid smile in place.

“I wish the apocalypse didn’t happen and we all didn’t have nightmares every damn night, but here we are,” you snap. “I wish we were all cozy in furnished apartments right now, too, and I wish we didn’t have to talk about these things.”

You wish the children didn’t have to hold knives, you wish Suga would stop forcing you to eat, you wish you could forget your mother’s laugh, you wish and wish and wish.

Tanaka’s mouth is open and Daichi is sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. Kuroo’s eyes are expressionless and he just looks like he’s waiting, though for what, you can’t even begin to guess.

You find that you don’t have the energy to regret the words, so you barrel on.

“The apartment buildings are stacked with nightstalkers. It would take weeks to clear even one out, and we would lose people. Guaranteed. We lost one person clearing this prison out and that —”

You’re cut off by a strange choking noise in your throat. The memory of Ennoshita is sweet, cloying, poisonous. Takeda looks pale and strained at the mention of it. His last student.

Your voice is pitched low when you manage to blink away traitorous tears. The sound of your chair scraping is loud and grating against your ears as you stand. They all watch you silently. Waiting.

“Ennoshita is buried here,” you say and the surprise on their faces is almost insulting. “So is Ayasaki’s little girl. We have a life here, one we built and fought for. The kids love it here, it’s as safe as it can get, and it’s isolated from the turf wars in the city. You know why we chose this place, you were part of the vote that decided it, Tanaka.”

Deep breath in. Out.

“I know I’m asking for a lot, but it’s necessary, and we’re all up to the task simply because we have to be.”

As far as motivational speeches go, you’re sure this is ranked pretty low. But Daichi straightens and Kuroo’s eyes are gleaming as he stares at you. Kiyoko is almost smiling and you take that into both of your hands and hold on for dear life.

“I have to protect them.”

Everyone in the room opens their mouth at pretty much the same time but Ukai beats them all to the punch with his lazy drawl.

“You’re a moron,” he sneers. “An absolute idiot if you think you’re doing any of this alone. Now run along and get some breakfast before Suga drags you there by your hair.”

~~~

It doesn’t surprise you when Kiyoko finds you later, on the roof, scribbling half-mad ideas into a plain notebook. She always knows where to find you.

“I think you should stay home tomorrow,” she says without preamble. The word home nearly sends you stumbling off the roof.

“Why? Am I dying and I don’t know it?” you ask dryly. The look she levels at you nearly makes your heart stop.

“We agreed to let Kuroo go tomorrow,” she explains, settling into the spot next to you, peering curiously at the notebook in your hand. “But you haven’t been sleeping and we can’t afford to lose you because you’re too tired to stand properly.”

You scowl. Damn the four eyes. Her and Takeda know too much for their own good.

“I’m fine,” you wave a hand dismissively. “I’ll get some rest tonight, promise.”

She let’s the matter go, which is a point for you, but you watch warily as she opens her mouth again.

“Tanaka is looking for you.”

A sigh.

“I should apologize.”

“That’s what he said.”

A laugh, short and barking, escapes you. Kiyoko smiles at the sound.

“We’re all such idiots.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #kuroo x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #zombie!au #haikyuu zombie!au #this is purely self indulgent #kuroo x you #kuroo angst #my writing #yanna speaks #text #fanfiction

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chocosweets · 3 years

Text

Request filled for @subarublue 💞🧁

Can I request a short and sweet little fluffy one shot (or just headcanons if a one shot is too much) where maybe Dante (Devil May Cry 5) first begins to realize he’s putting on some weight and feels a little self conscious about it? But he tries to hide it and blow it off like it’s nothing? But Reader notices the weight and his insecurities and lets him know they find him attractive no matter what?

Word Count: 1,416

Dante/Reader, SFW

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-DMC5, DMC5 Spoilers, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Affection, Cuddling & Snuggling

Enjoy, Eclair 🍩

***

Squish, squish.

Dante inspected his reflection carefully in the yellowed bathroom mirror as he changed out of his bloodied shirt, fresh after a long job. He prodded his bare flesh and watched as it squished incessantly.

His brows knitted as he continued to test the buoyancy—to see if it actually jiggled. The part of his body in question laid at the bottom of his stomach, underneath his six pack. The smallest bit of flab rounded into a little pouch that was soft to the touch, not hard and well-built like the rest of his muscles.

It was barely noticeable (unless someone pointed it out or felt it carefully), and truthfully he himself hadn’t noticed for all these months—until he’d done a particularly elaborate jump while fighting today and his shirt had scrunched up oddly as he soared and landed. And, well, as Nero has so eloquently put it: Ha! Look at that, the old man’s finally gettin’ fucking chubby!

There had been the usual light-hearted quips thrown back at his nephew, but when he got home he thought he ought to check it out for himself. The last row of his abs was beginning to fade into soft fat, and when he exhaled, the fat at his lower stomach hung over in a small curve below his belly button, brushing against the cool metal of his belt buckle lightly. There was a good portion of it that he could grab with his palm laying against the skin. He groaned a little to himself. Didn't his demonic metabolism usually prevent this sort of thing, as it had for the better part of thirty years?

What a pain. Dante pooled the weak faucet water in his hands and splashed the cool water onto his face. Maybe the kid had been right—and maybe he should lay off the pizza until that bump in his clothes stopped being visible.

------

For the seventh day in a row, you had stopped by the office without seeing any new pizza boxes strewn around the floor.

In fact, it wasn't only that, because you could've easily chalked it up to Lady or Trish—or quite possibly even Vergil, since he almost technically lived at Devil may Cry nowadays—forcing Dante to clean up his filth after the piles and odor had gotten unbearable. Except, it had also been seven days without interrupting him during a meal, or seeing him order any, or of you even smelling the aftermath of the steamy delicacy that still lingered in the air. You had only seen him eat sandwiches for lunch or snack on potato chips during the day, and occasionally pour himself bowls of cereal when you two watched TV late into the night.

Something was definitely up, but what it was, you didn't know. His behavior was mostly the same otherwise and he hadn't been drinking lately either, so you knew he hadn't slipped into another depressive episode or anything similar to that. You were thankful for that, at least, but the fact that he'd been abstaining from his precious pizza and declining all your offers of going out for an ice cream date for a whole week was certainly suspicious.

"Hey, baby." Dante sat up further in his chair when he saw you enter. That same cute smile of his was on his face, but he didn't look as peppy and carefree as usual. "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

Still, you grinned back and waved as you walked toward him. "Nothing much—except for visiting this sexy demon hunter I know."

"Oh yeah?" he goaded back playfully, shifting to face you in his seat as you made your way onto his side of the desk. "Have I met him before?"

"Don't think so," you huffed out between a laugh, and as you said it Dante brought himself up and closer to you—pulling you down into a quick kiss before sitting back down.

You looked around the place nonchalantly as you pulled a chair up for yourself in front of the desk, noting the lack of boxes again. A typical cola and magazine laid on his desktop, but there were still no stray slices of pizza or empty sundae glasses.

When you settled down in your seat, you cleared your throat, and he looked at you expectantly. "So, I guess you haven't had dinner yet? We should order some pizza and eat it over a movie."

Straight to the point, not wasting any time.

You swore he bit his bottom lip guiltily at the mention of his favorite food, and that his eyes lit up brighter than stars. He opened his mouth, though, about to respond, when—his stomach grumbled accordingly, as if pleading for some delicious, gooey pizza, making his eyes widen a fraction in embarrassment.

He laughed awkwardly. "Jeez, is it that obvious?"

"Dante." You gave him a knowing, but gentle look, and he groaned, as if realizing then that there was no point in denying it.

"Fine, I'll fess up." A sigh came out, and then he leaned forward on his desk. "I've just been dieting a little. It's no big deal."

"Dieting?" Your eyebrows creased more in concern than confusion.

"Yeah, aren't you proud of little ol' me? You're always saying I eat too much junk food." But then your brow raised at the obviously poor excuse, knowing that just your nagging alone wouldn't be enough to stop him from indulging. You stared further—and he relented with a sigh. "And, well— Figured it wouldn't look very good to clients if I was too...chubby."

That was putting it lightly, considering that even though he'd quit the pizza and ice cream, he was still devouring just as much food in a day. You could spot the beginning of a squishy-firm beer belly under his clothes when he leaned over and pressed into it like this. Dante picked up his can of soda to sip so he could avoid your gaze.

"That's all?" you asked, careful not to be too accusatory. There was an even more underlying reason here. He would tell you in time when he was ready, and you didn't want to push him too far at once. You reached over, still, and put your hand on his free one. (It made him tense up a little.)

"Yes," he insisted with his voice in a quick hiss. "What's wrong with me trying to slim down a little? I'm gettin' old, you know."

"Th-There's nothing wrong with it!" Damn, this seemed like a touchy subject to approach. So, you pulled out your most convincing voice. "And, well—to be honest, I didn't think you had put on all that much weight."

"Really? You don't think so?" He said it in a sarcastic deadpan, patting his soft lower belly for emphasis and leaning back into his chair. There, you were at least finally getting closer to his real feelings. You stood up and went back to his side of the desk, crouching to eye-level. You looked at him sweetly with a smile, and he seemed to melt. Dante crossed his arms over his chest and looked away almost bashfully when he said, "...Didn't think you'd like me letting myself go and all."

"Awww, don't be all pouty~" You leaned forward to pull him into a hug, holding him close. Your chest pressed to his, and you nuzzled his face with your cheek. "I don't mind if you're nice and soft, really. You're still handsome." He mumbled something under his breath, and you giggled again. "...And you're just too cute when you're pouty like this."

That got a little chuckle out of him, and he pressed a kiss to your neck. "I get it, I get it. No more grumpy Dante tonight, I promise." He relaxed with a sigh and ran his fingers through your hair. It was quiet for a moment. "But you meant all that?"

"Of course! Whether you're a little chubby, or in your devil form, or anything—you're still my Dante no matter what."

The man in question seemed to consider that, and then he shifted to embrace you back fully, nearly crushing you with his heavy grip. "Huh… That's pretty wholesome, babe."

You couldn't help but lift your head up and kiss his cheek as you giggled. "So, pizza?"

"Only if you let me take you on that ice cream date you've been wanting."

"Deal."

You held your hand out, and Dante shook it with gusto.

#bakery orders #eclair writes #dmc #devil may cry #dante #dante x reader #dante x you #weight gain #chubby #chubby kink #wg kink #ao3 #dmc5 #subarublue #HNNNGGH THANK YOU AGAIN FOR SUCH A CUTE REQUEST I HAD SO MUCH FUN...#I do hope you like it!~

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

The Greatest Show

Summary: Come on, get into it.

Author's note: I haven’t been inspired to write for this fandom in a while because honestly the writers are doing amazing, everything I think of is pure filth because I am eagerly awaiting their next kiss. But episode 17 broke my brain with their squash the rumor scene, the growling and grunting that So-Bong was so unaffected by. These two need a tent, desperately. Enjoy my royal pervs, here is my offering.

p.s. picture borrowed from @tomorrowsdrama- thank you for the screenshots of this amazing moment!

He's doing what he must to survive, that's all. End of sentence. He takes no pleasure in slamming the King into the closest surface and rubbing their body against him like a cat in heat, not in the slightest. Rumors are weeds, you have to rip them out for flowers and crops to flourish. That's all they're doing, weeding the garden of Joseon so it can flourish for their future child.

That's what he tells himself as they cross paths in the royal hall, the King is flagged by the entire royal court animatedly discussing something of seemingly vast importance if their volume suggests anything. As he takes a step forward, Court Lady Choi seizes their hand halting them in place.

"Your highness you just not approach the King when he is with the Royal court. It is not proper. We just simply bow as they walk by."

But he doesn't care about propriety or appearing decent and well-behaved in front of these corrupt old bags, they are simply larger weeds that need to be disposed of. Smirking at their potential outrage, he grins evilly letting that fuel him even more before pulling up their dress to run over to their Cheoljongie. He looks bored out of his mind so it can also be considered a good deed, he's such a giving wife.

"My King!" Her voice rings out as he calls to his husband, who immediately looks over at them warmth filling those expressive eyes. Without hesitation the King bounds over to them happily, his movement only slightly faster than his usual glide ever the diligent King.

"My Queen, I have missed you."

The members of the backstabbing clan look disgruntled at the King's sudden departure, grumbling and pointing at them as if they have committed the highest crime.

If they think this is inappropriate then they're in for a huge surprise.

Looking down demurely, he thinks of his younger days when he was a junior understudy for the school play his acting prowess would come in handy now.

"Not as much as I have missed you, my love." He whispers the word of affection, reaching up to caress the King's cheeks softly making sure to appear infatuated. He has to force that after all because he doesn't do that naturally, despite what the royal maids claim. They are just confused, So-yong has a soft face that appears adoring at time despite his true emotions.

With a soft whimper he throws himself into the King's arm, feeling those strong arms encircle her small waist, lightning zips through their veins but he ignores her bodily reaction.

We're just acting, take the memo! He internally berates the other inhabitant of this hormonally charged body.

But when Cheoljong strokes their neck and easily lifts them off their feet, he gasps loudly clinging to him harder for balance and because her knees suddenly feel weak.

"Your majesty, we do not have time for such....improper dalliance. You must not do this in such a public venue." One of the old farts stage whispers sounding positively scandalized and it revs him up even further. As he feels the King starting to retreat he jumps forward, wrapping their body around the King's like a limpet.

Cheoljong's eyes sparks to life the new position placing them eye to eye, panting softly onto each other. The air between them is charged and thick like a bowl of porridge.

"Your highness, I agree you mustn't do this." Court lady Choi pleads with her, averting her eyes away from the tangled couple.

He looks over Cheoljong's wide shoulders to see the Royal court affronted and wide eyed and Court Lady Choi with a similar expression, Hong Yeon is trying desperately to smother her smile as she averts her eyes. Sending her a secret wink, he pulls the King's head forward staring hungrily at his lips.

"I cannot resist, seeing him awakens such deep passion inside of me. Just one?"

He looks at her dazed, as if he's forgotten everyone surrounding them.

"Just...one?" He questions, confusion morphing into sudden realization as he watches them slide their tongue across plush lips.

"Oh."

Ignoring the cacophony of voices around them, he closes the miniscule space between them puckering up and kissing the soft skin of the King's cheek. Cheoljong tries blindly to catch her lips when they retract but he places a slim finger on his pursed lips.

Shaking their head lightly, he starts to slide down the King's hard body feeling the tight muscles even through the layers of fabric.

"We must save the rest for later, my heart. Come and visit us soon." He rubs at his stomach fondly, staring up into Cheoljong’s red face, he looks good enough to eat.

Wait what. Who thought that? No, it's the baby talking I'm just hungry, that's enough of a show.

Bowing deeply at the men, he steps around the King who is still frozen in his spot. Gathering himself he turns to the royal court with an innocent smile, "I apologize, I could not control myself. I will take a long walk to reflect on my behavior."

They collectively stare at her with gaped mouths as she walks off regally, shoulders straight as if nothing happened. After a few steps he turns around, calling over their shoulder, "Don't keep me waiting!" And then to add the proverbial cherry on top, he curls their finger before letting out a roar to which everyone jumps looking bewildered, except the King whose eyes could pierce a hole through their face.

He looks like a starved man. Maybe they should make him some more ramyeon?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

To say he's flustered is a bit of an understatement considered the problem in his pants. Logically he understands the Queen's actions earlier, she'd merely been doing what they had both agreed to feigning affection to dissolve those erroneous rumors that were circulating the kingdom. But he would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this immensely.

His Queen was an enigma he had even up on fully understanding, instead choosing to accept her and all that came with her. And her feelings for him were part of his confusion, she seemed to fluctuate between her emotions without rhyme or reason. He never knew which version of her he would be receiving at any given moment. So having her acting the way he'd only imagined in his dreams was both satisfying and unsettling.

It would be most difficult to go back to their normal, he wanted her in his arms always. Desperately yearned for intimacy that didn't dissipate when the sun peeked over the horizon.

Pushing his work to the side of the table he sighs leaning back into his seat thinking about his Queen.

"Why must she be so confusing?" He groans to myself thinking about their first night together, how passionate she'd been his ears burn remembering the sharp pain of her teeth sinking it. He had bite marks in... interesting places from that heated encounter but her behavior after had been consistent only in it's in inconsistency.

Running away from him, even going as far as hiding. Then just as suddenly she stopped avoiding him and they settled into comfortable nights together. However, they hadn't been intimate since despite his many efforts, he just wanted a kiss those plush pink lips were so tempting and today they'd been so very close. He needed that kiss like he needed air, he didn't care who was around. If she had kissed him he wouldn't have controlled himself, he would have hungrily devoured.

"Your majesty it is getting late, we must leave now if you wish to see the Queen." The head eunuch interrupts his inklings, bowing low in respect.

Is he ready for this? His control feels paper thin at the moment. But he did promise and they have an image to uphold.

Gathering his strength he rises, "Alright, let us take over leave. I shouldn't keep my Queen waiting."

The walk to Daejeon Hall is short but it feels like he's traversing miles, despite his previous concerns he is now eager to see the Queen. Her face is gorgeous at all hours but there's something about her face lit with candlelight, knowing he's the only one who is allowed to see her at such hours.

Accelerating his feet, he almost races to her ignoring cries from the head eunuch in the distance. Every second not spent in her company is a second wasted.

The Queen's Court lady announces his arrival before they all bow walking backwards out of the room before sliding the doors shut.

"You took your sweet time, I told you not to keep me waiting." She glares at him, pouting slightly bringing all his attention to her mouth.

"I apologize my Queen there were pressing matters to deal with." He lies easily no attention of clarifying his meaning, she doesn't need to know that dousing his arousal was the pressing matter at hand.

"Whatever. What's more important than me?" She scoffs looking offended turning away from him.

He lowers down into a crouch, crawling across the room until they are side by side. The Queen gasps at his unexpected closeness, staring at him with wide eyes and open lips.

Grasping at her hands he stares deeply into her gorgeous eyes solemnly with no humor in his voice, "Nothing. You are most important to me, both of you." Reverently he reaches out a hand to palm at her still small belly, impatient to see her round with his seed.

Her face slowly softens as he rubs her stomach and then she places her hand atop his, no longer resistant to these fleeting moments of intimacy.

Instinctively he starts to lean forward, laser focus on her lips as he inches closer to her. When he's close enough to breath into her mouth she snaps from her haze, moving back marginally he almost growls at her he's so frustrated, he's barely able to swallow the sound.

"What are you doing? There's no one to put on a show for."

He peers at her searching her face, her pupils are dilated and he can feel how fast she's breathing each puff landing on his face, her expression near identical to their last night together. But she's stopping him. Even though she clearly desires this too.

He thinks back to her behavior earlier too, she was brazen then comfortable climbing him in front of so many others all in the name of squashing the rumors.

She needs an excuse to do this.

He should feel offended by this epiphany but instead it brings him resolve, she clearly still hasn't fully let him into her heart but she feels something for him she's more than proven that to him. If she needs to draw a line to be with him then so be it for now, he will prove himself to her everyday.

"There are several court maids and servants outside your room, they are pretending they are not listening but they are. Sometimes your imagination can be even more powerful than reality."

She looks towards the door, eying the shadows through the thin covering before turning back to him and nodding in understanding.

"Okay. Let's give them a show."

Without warning she knocks a marble vase to the ground, the loud crash filling the room as it makes contact with the floor.

Then she moans. Loudly. A suggestive gasping moan that goes straight to his chest before zinging lower, tucking at his loins.

She pushes him when he sits silently merely staring at her, "You need to play along too. Come on, get into it."

There's it is again. That damn phrase.

Get into it.

If only she knew how into it he truly was. Grabbing at her ankle and tucking her underneath him, he slams his arms on either side of her head before groaning deeply, "My Queen, please."

Pride explodes in his chest when he sees a deep blush glide across her face. Not unaffected.

"Am I getting into it enough for you now?" He whispers darkly, itching to lower his weight and kiss that delicious look off her face.

Surprisingly she stutters out, "Ye-a-ah. You seem very into it now, nobody can see us though. We don't need to be like this." She motions between their bodies, unable to meet his gaze now. She motions between their bodies, unable to meet his gaze now. She's right but he also knows that he can't miss this chance, he has her right where he wants her and besides squirming distractedly she hasn't shown any desire for him to move away.

"Do you want me to stop?" When she doesn't immediately answer he begins to move backward giving her space but she latches onto his forearm, tight.

"Wait! Maybe we should commit even if they can't see us, it'll help us play our roles better." She reasons and he smiles, razor sharp. She wants this just as badly as he does, he's studied her long enough to read between these lines.

Swiftly he rolls them over so she's on top, pressed together from shoulders to feet her long braid swinging over and brushing against his cheek. Gently wrapping it around his hand he uses it to bring her closer, her breath hitches seductively and he whispers, "Louder. So they can hear you." Without waiting for a reply he tugs at her hair again harder this time and the sound that escapes her lips is orgasmic, a high whining moan that sets his skin on fire. Emboldened and aroused he grabs her neck, speaking into her opened mouth "Do you like that my Queen?" Her eyes are glazed over as she sways as if intoxicated by him.

"Cheoljong, kiss me."

It's too quiet for anyone's ears but his and that makes him even hotter, this wasn't part of the show. This was just for him, just for them.

Always one to seize the moment, he yanks her down to meet his eagerly waiting mouth swallowing the moan that rolls off her tongue. The kiss escalates immediately with both twisting and licking, wet sucking noises soaking the room as they bring apart to gasp for air and crash back together, chaotically and perfectly. When he feels a wondering hand graze his groin he can't resist the urge to thrust up into her touch. Wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her even closer, although there is no space between them.

When he pulls back, her eyes remain close as she licks her lips as if chasing his taste on them. His cock jumps jealously.

"I want you." He admits, wanting to make it clear if his intentions are not already crystalline to her. He wants no room for misunderstandings tonight.

She stares wordlessly before reaching across his body and then he sees the oil in her hand, he hadn't noticed its presence next to them but he eagerly takes it from her.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Don't go soft on me now, bring back the guy who was pulling my hair. Do you want me to call you Daddy too?"

His breath hitches at the word, he doesn't understand why but hearing her makes something dark coil in his belly. She lifts an eyebrow at his heavy silence, "You're so kinky."

He stares confused again, nothing new to him but he stores the word away for further inspection of its meaning. "Is kin-ky bad?" He asks reaching down to lower his pants and cover himself in the thick oil coating each inch of the hard pole.

She doesn't answer right away, avidly watching him stroke himself to fullness before rubbing at the bulbous deep scarlet head, serving to make him almost painfully turned on. "No, kinky is good. I like kinky." She tugs her skirt up and his eyes bulge when instead of seeing the various layers he should see there is only bare skin.

Had he been seduced? It feels as if he has been but he doesn't care enough to question her or pause this for a second. He would happily be her fool.

Gripping at her hips he rubs against her, groaning when her wetness smears across him obscenely. She grinds down onto him meeting him head on, they are definitely on the same page now.

Unable to wait for even another second, he envelopes her in his arms before sliding into her smoothly her natural moisture and the oil easing the way until he is completely encased. She moans long and wailing as he slides to the hilt, he groans loudly joining her as she scratches roughly down his back even through the sturdy material he can feel the burn. Absently he considers gentling his moves, she is pregnant and more fragile after all. But she must read his face and be vehemently against his plan because suddenly she rises up, slipping off his hardness before slamming back down the loud smacking of skin filling the room.

"It's time for the main event. Don’t stop now.” She challenges him, squeezing around his erection.

Pushing his reservations to the side, he gets into it full heartedly thrusting hard before capturing her mouth in a harsh kiss, hissing when he feels her teeth tug roughly at his bottom lip, his lioness has returned. He teasingly roars into her mouth and she laughs around his tongue, breaking free only to latch on his neck sucking hard. He hopes it leaves a mark.

Her laughter causes her to tighten around him and he groans at her vice like grip on his cock, he can feel himself nearing the end. Recalling their first night he suddenly grabs her neck, squeezing lightly and when she whines in a broken gasp he tightens his hand and delights as she melts slowly limp in his hold, he supports her weight easily bucking into her tight heat. When he thrusts up a second time he feels her wetness gush around him before he loses himself, his climax tensing his body as he slowly falls apart.

The entire kingdom will surely be in an uproar tomorrow.

He's looking forward to it. That will teach them to spread rumors about their intimate affairs.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In the hallway, Hong Yeon brings her hands to her hot cheeks feeling overheated from the King and Queen's boisterous gathering. Every court maid is blushing as they look discretely at the door with every moan and groan that escapes. She hopes this will qualm the rumors in the kingdom, she cannot take this for much longer. Court lady Choi had left to retrieve water after their first moans and had yet to return, she surmised if the Queen were not already with child she would have been impregnated again going by the sounds they were making. It was all too obvious to her, despite the Queen's strange behavior at times, they were desperately in love with each other. She'd never seen two people who were more crafted for the other.

Anyone who thought otherwise was a fool.

#queen cheorin #mr. queen #squash the rumor.#do it for your kingdom #no touch princess #smutty smut #they just have so much chemistry I can't resist #my offering

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raichijin · 4 years

Text

⋆͛♡⋆͛ the hangover; mirio edition. ❥ a one-shot.

━━━━━ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. (tba)

preface; writing this was honestly so painful. a testatment to why i should never 1.) do collabs ever 2.) write long things. i am drained.

word count; 5k words.

starring; mirio, mina, shinsou, denki, unnamed boyfriend.

summary; after your boyfriend forgets about your anniversary, you spend some time with friends to forgive and forget about what happened. then it gets worse.

warnings; reader gets called some nasty names towards the end of the fic. watch out for that.

you were supposed to be spending this weekend with your boyfriend. at a resort, poolside, on vacation, or on a beach, or where ever he’d fancy peeling off the nice (read: expensive) swimsuit he’d gotten you for your five year anniversary.

he was kind, is kind, but not as committed to your relationship as he was to his job. not even a call as the clock struck midnight, almost an hour past your reservation, but a text the morning after with a short apology, and the sudden announcement that he’d be working late. again. you didn’t cry. wouldn’t, because shedding tears would cause a mess and a headache, and self-doubt is what’s tucking you in at night, telling you that maybe for tonight, tomorrow and the day after your feelings don’t matter.

cause his job is the one keeping you afloat. (your interest in the arts is cute, to him; like a hobby. nothing you could stay afloat with. it’s too risky, he insists, so to you, it became nothing. to others? it became offhand remarks at his high-end office parties. a joke to your in-laws. a breathed sigh of relief from your parents.) so more time is what’s best for the both of you.

that has to be it.

your friends figure out something might be wrong when you go ghost for days, bordering on a week.

you mention how it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re by yourself as you are, but they don’t buy it. say you need to loosen up, take a vacation of your own even when you say you don’t need it because you’re not working, give you sharp glares whenever you object. you don’t know why you thought you had a choice in the matter — especially when mina’s sugar mommy gives her enough money to afford 2 full suites at one of the most expensive hotels in the area.

denki also tags along, just cause, and brings his boyfriend; shinsou, with him.

if they know what’s going on, they never mention it.

and it’s a little easier to cope that way.

you dip your toes, ease yourself into the night, before you’re being pulled into the deep end and your mind’s been left at the door, but your body is having a field day.

you should’ve blacked out two margaritas ago.

you think you did.

you’re too drunk to recall all of the rash decisions you made, or whether or not you maxed your credit card, but you’ve must’ve gotten separated from your friends somewhere along the way, because when you wake up, you are distinctly not in your bed, not in a tastefully decorated room, not in a hotel.

and mina, shinsou, denki? unless they’re in the adjacent room, they’re not here with you either. you’re still in your clothes from last night. your shirt is missing a button and you don’t have your shoes on, but beyond that, you’re perfectly fine.

a scraggly bed head lies next to you, who is, notably, more nude than you are.

he has no shirt. no shoes. no pants. his blonde hair is unruly and you’re so shocked you actually start to wake up. your eyes widen and you’re sitting up so fast you’re a bit dizzy from the sudden motion.

the room is spinning and you feel sick, the headache behind your eyes making you want to grind your molars into dust. and just as quickly as you sat up, you lay back down; shaking the bed with the force. the guy next to you isn’t as heavy of a sleeper as you hoped, though. he blinks open tired eyes, showing you the most exquisite navy blue, and the little bit of drool dripping down his chin might’ve been cute if he wasn’t a complete stranger.

though you can’t stave off the creeping anxiety, the silence as he comes to his senses doesn’t feel wrong, and you’re more confused than scared.

he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, and gives you a criminally bright smile, and though his voice is wrecked when he says “...g’morning, sunshine.”, you doubt yours sounds much better.

the nickname makes you feel fuzzy, if only for a second.

“i, uh … good morning?” you sound awkward, but the guy manages to find humor in your predicament when he chuckles gently, sitting up without so much as a second thought. you can see more of his body when he does so, and when his hand comes up to ruffle his hair, you can catch the glint of a silver band, resting on his ring finger.

then everything clicks into place.

did you cheat? was he cheating?

all of the things you’d been beating yourself up over settle thick over top like smoke clouds and a raging fire. you feel like you’re suffocating, and don’t realize you’re freaking out until a strong hand is wrapping around yours, which, in your panic, you squeeze.

you spot a matching ring on your hand, that you know for a fact wasn’t there before,

and you think that’s when you pass out.

you wake up (again) to a room with tacky but charming decor, the smell of breakfast, and considerably less of a headache than what you started with. now more lucid, with the strength in your body to walk and think, your first priority is finding your phone. you tap your pockets, check the bedside drawer and tables, under your pillow, in the cracks of the bed, under the bed.

no cigar. you’re digging through miscellaneous memorabilia, trinkets and clothes that aren’t yours for at least a minute before the guy you were laid up in bed with comes back to just to see you picking through the corners of his bedroom, banana in hand.

he stands in the doorway and clears his throat. he has clothes on this time, pants. “you’re awake? are you feeling any better?”

you startle, straighten your back and stand upright, your arms falling to your sides. “um, kind of. i — have you seen my phone?”

he shakes his head, offers you the banana. “you should have this though! it’ll fix that hangover, i think.”

“i … thanks.” standing and eating a banana in someone else’s bedroom is certainly … a time.

“i made some breakfast,” he says when you’re halfway finished, “if you want some.” he ends with a smile, and you feel those 3 shots of serotonin go straight to your brain.

granted, you shouldn’t be that happy.

he takes the lead and turns around, leading you down a narrow hallway into a quaint kitchenette with a lovely beach view and all the good summer vibes condensed into a single, small room. it makes your heart hurt even more when you realize you have someone home, someone expecting you to come back.

to a hollow apartment, a cold bed, a lukewarm welcome.

you have to force your brain to be quiet to even hear a fraction of what blondie is saying.

“alcohol basically just dehydrates you. the potassium stops that, gets you all your minerals and stuff back. i heard it works with beer, so i was thinking it works for other stuff too!” he sounds so chipper that it brings your mood up just to hear his voice.

so bold and sure, warm and kind.

“but if it doesn’t clear up in 30 minutes, i have some advil i can give you! don’t want you having a headache all day now.” he’s sitting you down at his small table and sliding some pancakes in front of you, some orange juice. eating feels like a chore, but you know you have to, or that you should try at least.

while you push around your food, blondie chatters away, and even if you just met, he has you entranced by the way he speaks. smooth like the butter on his toast as his stories flow effortlessly into one another, how easily he can chat you up is amazing; getting you from gentle chuckles to full blown belly laughter before you can get your first bite in.

there’s lulls in the conversation if you count the moments he takes to actually eat, but he keeps you on your toes with his personal anecdotes, and questions about yourself, forcing you out of your shell, little by little.

the thought of your boyfriend pushed back into the depths of your mind.

until you broach the topic of your friends.

you learn quickly that he’s a good listener, completely silent unless prompted, asking questions or making jokes only when you’re finished speaking. when he asks, you tell him about the ones that got you here, shinsou, denki and mina.

his eyes flash momentarily, a look of recognition, or maybe understanding, passing over him. he hums gently, head swaying as he does so.

“they’re a little rough around the edges but they’re like family, you know?”

“i get what you mean. they were very nice when i met them. especially at our wedding!” he sips his coffee.

“i — are you alright? you’re choking!” that you are. the guilt you felt when you first woke up and the rising panic ram into your gut like a freight train, and suddenly, you don’t want to eat anymore.

"what do you mean we're married?" you rub small circles into your forehead as this idyllic morning goes right back to being cruel hell.

"yesterday, at the chapel," he twists his wedding ring with warm familiarity that makes your stomach churn. "i can't really believe it myself, like maybe we were meant to be? i know the universe works in strange ways like that."

you're sorry to burst his bubble, but you save the happily ever afters for fairy tales, not real life.

you pinch your forehead and heave an exasperated sigh.

"i have a boyfriend." you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to seek lost comfort. "and we don't know each other to begin with. can't even remember your name, i was so drunk."

you cradle your face in your palms, feel his stare bore into the top of your head.

"togata." you perk up.

“what?”

“my name. it’s togata. mirio togata.”

“oh.” you rub your cheeks, pull them back with the heels of your palms.

“that’s a nice name.” an uncomfortable silence washes over you both before someone speaks up. mirio.

“so what do you want to do?”

you answer a little bit too fast in response. “i don’t know. i … i should call my friends. i still need to find my phone—” you stand up, ignore the onslaught of nausea, and look around the kitchen.

“help me look? and then … and then we can figure out all the other details later.” mirio carries both your plates to the sink, and busies himself with dishes for a brief moment, allowing you to find the bathroom nook and reorient yourself. you fix yourself up a bit, straighten out your shirt and fix your hair up. no time to take a shower.

you cup a hand in front of your mouth, breathe and sniff. eugh.

“hey, uh, togata; got an extra toothbrush?” his heart might’ve lept when you called him by his given name.

“um! yeah!” rushing water obscures his voice a bit, but if he shouts he’s loud enough to hear. “check under the sink? i should have some there.”

“thanks.”

you rummage around in his cabinets, and in that time he’s managed to clean up the leftover food and put a shirt on.

your phone having gotten lost or being stolen becomes more of a possibility the longer you think about it. you doubt you came back to his house to do anything but sleep. how many places could you have dropped it? you come out of the bathroom to mirio sitting back at the kitchenette table, holding his phone in his hand.

“hey togata … do you think you can call me?”

“i mean, sure, but i don’t know if i have your number...”

your anxiety makes you a bit snippy even when you don’t mean to be rude, but you can apologize when you get your phone back. ”just give it to me then. i’ll do it.”

it rings a few times before someone picks up, which is a step up from going to voicemail, and the situation goes from okay to great when the croaky voice of shinsou answers, worn out and tired, but awake enough to make a greeting.

he says you’re not here to pick up the phone right now, you interrupt and say that this is you, and that you just borrowed togata’s phone to figure out where yours was.

“togata? who?”

“my, my um. husband.” gingerly said, you can see mirio tense up in the corner of your eye.

“oh,” someone’s snickering away from the mic. denki probably. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “mirio?” you’re upset that he can remember his name but you couldn’t. “how is he?” you shoot mirio a look, he gives you a thumbs up.

“good. so, uh, where are you guys?”

two hours away. they’re two hours away by car and mirio’s pickup truck is exactly what you’d expect from him. it’s big, beat up, it’s blue, and it’s his pride and joy, even if it’s slow to start up. if anything, it feels a bit humbling to hear the low hum of the buzzing engine. brings you back down to reality, out of the lap of luxury.

reminds you of the way mirio laughs with his whole chest. that gentle, rumbling purr.

you’re sinking into the crunchy leather seat with a groan, then a laugh from togata; to which you swat at him. you give him the address so he can set it up with his gps, and get going. he messes it up a bit and then it’s your turn to laugh, much to his displeasure. he blushes from the embarrassment, and you pat his shoulder, still chuckling. it feels natural. waking up together. having breakfast together. unofficial road trip to meet back up with your friends because you got blackout drunk and are 100 miles away.

oh, right. you sigh softly and mirio looks over, thinking to comfort you by turning on the radio, greeted by soft pop and slow guitars.

the silence carries.

fifteen minutes into the drive, he thinks to ask about your boyfriend.

“what’s he like?” togata drums his fingers on the wheel with an air of anxiety almost, though you can’t imagine why he would be — unless he thinks you won’t react well to his question. you don’t mind however, and sate his curiosity without as much as a glance.

“oh, he’s nice,” your statement lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect when someone talks about their significant other. it seems sincere, yet exhausted.

“buys me whatever i want, when i want it, loves his job to death, and … we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary this week.” dejection is visible in the way you slouch your shoulders, interest waning. mirio can’t help but exercise a little concern, filling in the gaps while he’s at it..

“and you couldn’t, because you came here?” you shake your head.

“what? no. i came here because he was too busy, and my friends thought i could still have some fun on my own. his job is important to him.”

“and your relationship isn’t?” your eyes narrow, glaring at him from the passenger's seat.

“the fuck’s that supposed to mean mirio?”

“well, an anniversary is supposed to be more important than some job— don’t you think he should just take a day off? it wouldn’t hurt.” you lean against the car door, shoulder propping your head up as you peer out the window.

“i mean, i guess. but he’s keeping us afloat, so i can’t really complain.” togata’s eyebrows shoot up.

his tone is incredulous. “what, you don’t work?”

seeing you cringe away out of the corner of his eye is what makes him back track almost immediately.

“i’m so sorry! i’m — wow, that was completely out of line,” your embarrassment lessens when he apologizes, and you inhale sharply.

“don’t worry. it’s, it’s fine.” you can’t help the way your fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, gnawing the inside of your cheeks, afraid of getting laughed at. mirio wouldn’t laugh at you, would he?

“i, i used to make music. i was in a band in highschool, actually.” though mirio’s forced to keep his eyes on the road lest you two crash, you can see the way his smile reaches his ears, the silent ‘wow’ of awe making your cheeks heat up. high brow company doesn’t have much use for your talents unless it’s the violin, or something else that fits their lame-ass agenda. your bass chills in the back of your closet, a relic of the past, but a neat decoration.

you shake your head, too caught up in your own train of thought that you didn’t realize togata was speaking.

“i’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“oh! i was just curious, i asked if you sing?” you snort, then full on laugh, though mirio doesn’t seem to get the joke.

“oh, hell no. i don’t have the voice for it, nor the patience to do vocal training. i just played bass! thought it was easier than guitar because it only had 4 strings. i was wrong. maybe i could … show you sometime? i mean, it’s been a while, but i think i remember a few songs: have you heard of seven nation army?”

you talk with mirio about music at length, and learn that he’s a pretty big enthusiast himself and while he’s never played an instrument, he’s been interested in learning guitar. he brings up your band, and the memories of your senior year come flooding back; mina and denki convincing you to audition, your stage fright, recruitment later in spite of it.

mirio can see the stars in your eyes when you speak, speaking so animatedly with clear adoration at the topic at hand, and he starts getting a creeping suspicion that back where you’re from, you don’t get to talk about this as nearly as much as you like. he realizes in the same breath that he doesn’t mind indulging you. he participates enough so you don’t feel like you’re chatting his ear off, but quiet enough to hear you fill in the empty space.

the way your hands move as you tell stories is adorable and so is your enthusiasm, he could hear you ramble for hours and never get bored. and he nearly does, it’s been an hour and you’re still talking — but then you take a breath, and apologize for no good reason.

he squints at you, confused.

“what’re you apologizing for?”

“i’ve been talking waaaaay too much. i’ve barely heard a word out of you for the last thirty minutes!”

“i thought you were having fun! i know i liked listening. besides, it looks like that you don’t get to talk enough about the stuff you enjoy. i’m willing to listen, so talk all you want!” the assumption makes you furrow your brow, and you hate that you feel like he’s right.

your boyfriend either talks about his job, your friends, his parents, or nothing at all. no interest in music. no time for it. your friends enjoy reminiscing on occasion, but you don’t speak enough to them to get all nostalgic.

it’s … nice that he takes your feelings into consideration. you smile to yourself, saying nothing in response.

“we’re getting closer to the hotel — it’s 30 minutes away now.” it gets quiet again, before all the sounds you hear are the other cards and the slow hum of low volume music you’d forgotten about, coming from the radio. you turn towards the window to take in the scenery while mirio catches glimpses of you in his periphery, surprised at how adorable you look, doing even the most mundane of things.

mirio couldn’t remember much from the night before, well, can’t remember anything that wasn’t you. you weren’t completely out of it when you met him, but he could’ve misjudged, considering he wasn’t quite in his right mind either. didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so bold, but everything about you was so charming.

from something as simple as your smile to how easily you chatted him up, despite his tendency to be a tad overbearing, you would take him and his attitude in stride. running around town, dipping in and out of nightclubs with your friends close behind, getting kicked out of said clubs, dancing and laughing together in another—

he huffs, pouting to himself. your boyfriend was so damn lucky.

he steps on the gas and starts going a little faster. you don’t seem to mind.

the rest of the trip was silence, and it wasn’t until he parked and stepped out of the car and said something.

“wow.” he whistles, low and long, until you pinch his arm to stop from attract the stares of passerby. “you guys could afford this? gosh. that’s like, three of my paychecks, maybe.” you chortled as he helped you out, quick to clear up any confusion.

“not me,” you walked in the lobby with him, going straight to the elevators after checking in with the front desk. “i could barely afford it! mina’s … uhm, girlfriend, paid for a room for all of us.” he arches a brow at the emphasis on girlfriend, but if he has any objections, he holds his peace.

“mmh. wonder what it’s like to be rich.”

you laugh as you’re carried up a few floors, specifically to the more expensive suites, at least 12 floors up. “me too dude! mina is lucky.”

you’re barely knocking on the room door before denki is throwing it open and screeching, ushering you both in. they remember mirio from last night, which is upsetting, considering they don’t remember anything else: not how you got to mirio’s house, not how they got back home. not how they found your phone in the bathroom either, apparently.

“speaking of bathrooms, i’m gonna take a shower. keep mirio company, i guess."

you have to look through your luggage for a change of clothes, and find your phone on your bed in your room, charging and you don’t think about going through it until after you’re clean.

coming back to nearly forty notifications from your boyfriend wasn’t on the agenda, and quite frankly, might’ve been a sign. some were calls but most were all lower case texts, each more foreboding than the last. holding your towel up with one hand, you scroll through your messages with the other.

what the fuck is wrong with you?

who the hell is this guy?

beneath it, a video of you and togata. your pupils dilate, and a deeply rooted sense of dread clutches your heart. it looks like a screen recording off of denki’s instagram account, of you two dancing. not overtly scandalous, but too close for comfort.

have you been cheating on me?

for how long

how desperate are you? i say i have a business trip and you take it as an excuse to slut it up somewhere else?

you’re fucking pathetic.

heart slowly sinking, threatening to beat out of your chest, you can’t find it in you to scroll through the rest. you barely have pants on before you’re calling him up, frenzied and feeling out of breath. the phone barely rings twice before you’re going to voicemail and hearing the beeping tone.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

you hang up, and try again.

this time, he picks up on the first dial tone.

“baby?” you nearly yell into the microphone, while the other end remains silent.

“what is it.” his voice is hollow, not even asking a question; rather making a statement. you choke on your words, are quiet for a few seconds at most before he’s barking at you. “i don’t have all day. i’m busy.”

“t-that video. it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything—” something slams in the background that makes you flinch, and he takes it as a good opportunity to cut you off.

“so the wedding wasn’t shit either? the way he was holding you, looking at you like that, like some lovesick fucking puppy?”

“w-what? what’re you talking about honey? it’s nothing like that—”

“don’t get fucking cute with me. i’ve seen the photos. that girl mina doesn’t know how to not publicize your life.” you feel like dying.

“i knew i should’ve never settled for you.”

“you don’t mean that—”

“shut the fuck up.” there’s more shuffling on his end, a deep sigh. you’re too shaken to speak. “i wasted so much on you. gave you a house, a home, just for you to repay the favor by being a two-bit whore, sit on your ass all day and complain, and waste my time with those stupid fucking hobbies of yours.” what’s more terrifying is that his voice doesn’t wane or waver. he means it.

“... honey, please. please just let me explain!” you hadn’t even noticed the tears until you’re wiping them off your cheeks, your sniffling getting louder until you’re full on sobbing.

“there’s nothing left to explain. get your shit out by tuesday. we’re done.”

the line goes dead after that.

you don’t realize how much time has passed since you went to go shower initially, only that it’s been a while, considering how urgently mina starts knocking on the door.

“baby, are you alright? you’ve been in there for half an hour!” you can’t find it in you to respond. all it results in is choking on your own words, coughing and sobbing and tears and this fucking headache.

you don’t want to be seen.

mina announces that she’s coming in, and conversation behind the door quiets down until you can’t hear it anymore. just your own thoughts. she opens it and finds you in the corner, your knees to your chest while you’re just barely dressed, hair soaking wet. crying feebly until she rushes over and asks what happened.

you show her your phone. the texts.

she wraps her arm around your back and helps you up. hands you a towel so you can finish drying yourself off, and picks out some clothes for you to wear. when she turns around, she’s greeted by the concerned faces of your friends. mirio.

her face morphs from a look of concern to pure rage.

“what the fuck!?” she all but snatches your phone away from you, to which you pull your hands back and cradle you legs again. “who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” she looks down at you just then, and sees the red in your eyes, the tear tracks that stain your cheeks and a few drops dripping off your chin. you need your help more than you need her rage and half hearted insults.

“you yelled.” shinsou states plainly. “is everything alright?” mina approaches them and ushers everyone out, closing the door, presumably to give you some privacy.

you dress slowly, the few minutes feeling like an eternity before you’re reaching for the door handle, clean and feeling like shit, for different reasons other than a hangover.

when you emerge from your room, mirio gives you a hug.

a hug that you melt into. one that you weren’t expecting but squeeze him back just as hard, tears that didn’t quite make it out seeping into the spot where you press into his shirt. his arms are comforting and strong, rubbing and patting your back gently, until the room is silent beyond your heartbeat and your sniffles, your friends milling about in the background.

“he said i have to move out.” your fingers dig into togata’s shirt. “pack up all my stuff and leave but i don’t know where i’m supposed to go—”

there’s a smaller hand patting your back when mina speaks up.

“d-don’t worry.” you can feel her hugging you too, a special warmth blooming in your chest.

“we’ll figure something out.”

while you’re leaving the hotel, mina makes a call to her girlfriend camie to explain the situation, and by the time you’re back in mirio’s pick up, she said that camie offered to rent you an apartment in her name. the earliest she can get it was by monday, so she offered to let you spend the night for a couple days as well. denki says that he and shinsou could help you with things around the house: shopping, redecorating, etc.

togata is the one who offers to help you get your stuff. you arrange the date for monday, actually exchange phone numbers, and meet up at 8.

it makes sense; his car has enough space in the back, you don’t have much of your own stuff, but you nearly regret accepting the offer in the first place. something about moving out with your … husband in tow doesn’t sit well with you. almost seems like it’s too soon.

but mirio’s charming enough to make the whole ordeal seem less like a fever dream. you’re beaming at him by the time you’re all done, laughing and smiling and so infectiously happy. by the time you both wind down you’re out of breath, wheezing in the front seats of the car.

he smiles fondly at you.

you can feel your cheeks heat as you return the sentiment.

then both of you are back on the road. the musics louder this time, and you get to show him how shitty you sing; which he insists isn’t so bad after all. it’s after twenty minutes of this that you’re suddenly struck by the irony of it all.

“i can’t believe our first date with you was me moving out of my exes apartment.” mirio chokes on his spit, cheeks bleeding red as he does a double take, eyes flitting from the road, back to you, back to the road.

“wait.”

“that was our date?”

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ; @mitsusuri @okayshin @tamasoft

#mirio togata x reader #bnha x reader #togata mirio x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #togata mirio #mirio togata #bnha pocuties collab #mirio x you #togata x you #mirio x reader #togata x reader

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