#she was a little sly and calculating but her whole thing was about how status triumphs over smarts on rokkenjima | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suna-reversed · 3 years

Text

𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

toji fushiguro x reader

You could have anyone you want

Why would you want to be with me?

I’m nothing special

WC- 8k+ || MINORS DNI !!

my fic for the “great conjunction collab”

Warnings/tags- (unprotected sex, oral sex, slight voyeurism, choking, nipple play, mating press, size kink, slight breeding kink) (historical AU, non-canon timeline, greek mythology, hades-persephone retelling, mentions of misogyny/sexism, depression, religion, hurt/comfort, angst, heartbreak, major character injury, descriptions of blood, violence and death, manipulation)

𝙀𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙖 - 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙙

It would be an understatement to say that Toji, despite being one of them, had never felt like part of the clan and had hated the whole Zenin bloodline through all his years of suffering.

And the only thing he hated more than his own blood? It was the damned nobles who looked down upon him- mocking his lack of power under whispers and rumours. The spineless cowards didn’t even have the courage to spit those venomous words at his face.

He kept note of every single one of them- it was hard not to with how their laughs echoed in his mind each night as he dug his nails into his palms. So of course his attention was bound to drift towards the mother and daughter from a titled family that happened to take residence in the Zenin estate when they got news that their home down-south had been attacked.

𝘼𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙚𝙖- 𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮

Your home had not been attacked. It was all planned of course- your travel to the mountains up north that crossed the Zenin abode, your mother having fabricated the news so that she had an excuse to find an honourable match for you from one of the most powerful clans. Her sly spies had already done the dirty work, providing you with two suitable men- even if one of them was twice your own age and the other known for his aggressiveness.

The white gown your mother had dolled you in and the orchids she had braided into your hair had every single eye focused on you as you made your way up to your chambers. You kept your head down, too nervous to meet the eye of anyone- hoping no older man took an interest in your facade of purity and innocence and decided to stake his claim on your body. Oh, how you wished you could get away from this life, get away from the wretched woman you had to call your mother, get away from all of it- the stupid clan- the stupid suitors- the stupi-

“Ah!”

You yelped as your body crashed into what seemed to be a rock hard wall of muscles, the scent of night chilled mist and cedar taking over your senses. You blinked.

Gulping, you moved back a step, ready to start sputtering apologies before your mother peeled your skin off for already having embarrassed yourself. Instead, your words stayed stuck in your throat as your gaze met with an intense pair of orbs- filled to the brim with the rage of achilles, but somehow also his sorrow. Your breath hitched in your throat, and in the back of your mind, you knew you should do something- move, apologise, scowl like a noble lady would if nothing else- but all you could do was stand there stunned, the man’s stance mirroring your own.

You flinched as the pot-bellied butler who was leading you down the hallway came back, and you thought the dark haired man might kill him right there for interrupting the burning moment between you two. Instead, you were shocked as he let himself get pushed to the side, stuffing his hands into his pockets, head down as he made a beeline towards the exit.

You barely felt the crescent moons being engraved into your skin as your mother dragged you to your room by the arm, a clipped smile on her face.

𝙊𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙪𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙀𝙪𝙧𝙮𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙚- 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

“Toji”

He continued walking, even as his eyes held a warning look. Gritting his teeth, he increased his pace.

“Toji-”

He shuddered. Say it again, he wanted to command, instead he turned the corner, hands curling into tight fists.

He had been confused at first, almost appalled, at you- at your audacity to try and act like he wasn’t who he was- a piece of scum, the lowest of the lowly in the clan. But it seemed like this is how you had decided to spend the rest of your time whenever you weren’t being flagged by suitors or being paraded around your mother as the ideal of a chaste loyal wife.

He had indulged you the first time you had struck up a conversation. Perhaps that was his initial mistake. His second being committed just now as he turned to you, the glee on your face making bile rise up to his throat. He had seen women like you before- well born “ladies” of the court in dire need of a good fuck, before they were packaged off like objects to a husband who’d only ever look at them as a vessel for carrying his children. Toji huffed in annoyance, eyes doing a quick scan of his surroundings before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into one of the storage rooms right around the corner.

“Look-”

Toji cut himself off as he saw the baffled look on your face, your eyes starting to fill up with fear and panic. Somehow, he found himself speechless, the bitter words of telling you to go look for pleasure in a whorehouse now dissolving on the tip of his tongue.

He knew who you were being considered as a match for- having overheard the conversation during a clan meeting- it was supposed to be the sons of one of the higher ups and he could already picture the half wilted life you’d be living. And right then, something clicked in Toji’s mind- all those years of hatred and resentment flashing before his eyes as you hesitantly stepped back, tears welling up in your eyes, and right there, Toji knew what he wanted to do- what he had to.

He took a deep breath and your heart hammered even harder in your chest. He had been different from the rest of them- you had known it from the first time. However, now you doubted your own wits, trying to recall the ways of combat you had seen the soldiers back home perform- even though you didn’t quite see how you’d succeed against the tall burly mass of flesh that towered above you. You jumped back as he strode right towards you- eyes clenched shut, hands raised in front of your face ready for the impact and pain.

You were met with nothingness, barely feeling the light brush of his arm as he moved past you.

Toji sighed at your almost childish antics, even though he agreed your actions would have been justifiable if it was any other man having pulled you into such a secluded place. He waited for you to calm down, lazily looking for the latch of the huge glass window situated on the other side of the room. He easily lifted it open, biceps flexing as he did so- placing his hands on the ledge before pulling himself to the other side.

He turned back towards your gawking figure, rolling his eyes, ready to put forward the offer that would decide if you were worth his time and effort or not. He extended his hand, trying to ignore the heat crawling up to the tip of his ears at the giddy relief-filled grin that spread across your face as he asked,

“You ever visited the countryside princess?”

You must be an angel in disguise, he finds himself thinking. It terrified him- the time he had spent staring at the column of your neck, watching your chest fall and rise with every breath- and the time he could have spent simply admiring every crook and nook of your body.

You looked serene in the golden hour of the afternoon, lying on the grass with your eyes shut, sunlight cascading down your figure making it seem as if you carried your own halo. Toji was afraid you’d sprout wings any second now, disappearing away to someplace heavenly- someplace better than the hell you were about to be condemned to- someplace that didn’t have monsters like him. But at last, you were only a human- soon to be one of the Zenins if nothing else.

The time you had sneaked out to the lake in the countryside with him had not been the last of your rendezvous. You had been quite different from what Toji had expected. You hadn’t made any advances towards him but you weren’t the pure little thing everyone believed you to be either.

You were smart to say the least- a trait that families often suppressed in women of your status, trying to force them into nothing but submissive concubines for their future husband. You were oddly aware of it- had mentioned your doomed fate quite a few times now, and he was struck by how you always laughed, as if your own self being stripped away was a joke. You seemed to do that quite a bit, and he understood it in some twisted way of his own plight.

Even as his mind kept reminding him that you had still grown up being pampered, being spoiled, having others do your work for you- others like him. But conversation had flowed so naturally with you, he found himself showing you more and more of his places of solitude he had found all over the village through his years of misery.

You were also naive in many ways, but still blunt in twice as many. Toji had rolled his eyes as he had asked you what you did with your free time back home- the answer was expected- it always had to be something related to the arts and education, trying to pump the ladies full of culture so that they have something to talk about at the dozen balls and galas they’d be attending every month. However, he had almost choked on the pear he chewed as you had started listing names of erotica after erotica- the titles being lewd enough to let him know just how filthy the content inside would be.

You had burst into laughter at the look on his face, crumbs of fruit left on the side of his mouth making him look even more bizarre. You had reached up your fingers almost instinctively, eyes widening as you realised you had brushed them over the scar he never seemed to talk about. His hand was wrapped around your wrist in less than a second, halting it in place.

He had stared right back at you, breaths heavy, eyes calculating as he loosened the grip around your skin, but not before he lifted your fingers to press against the mark once more. You swore you could have heard the drumming of your heart, and perhaps he did too.

As you brushed away the remaining bit of the sweet fruit, you couldn’t help but notice the flush that had formed on his cheeks, even as he scowled.

𝙀𝙧𝙤𝙨- 𝙥𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚.

“You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are.”

You’re bent over the table in the storage room that has somehow become your portal of escape from the person you have to pretend to be. It’s not the first time Toji has whispered his filthy administrations into your ear, but he’s never done it quite so close to where anyone could walk in and catch you red handed.

Perhaps it was the fact that his face had turned a sick shade of green at the sight of your suitor tucking your hair behind your ear, your lips twitching upwards at something he said- the same way they had twitched up the night before when he had risen from in between your legs, the taste of yourself flooding your mouth as he had pressed his lips to yours.

This is exactly what you were here for, and despite it, Toji knew who’s name you screamed at the end of every day. So then why did another hand on you ignite a bestial flame inside his chest? Why did he feel the need to pull you away in the dead of the night amongst the crowd of tipsy people, ridding you of the fabric of your dress in one swift movement as he had pressed you against the nearest surface.

You didn't panic for even a moment, you knew it was his hand just from the touch of it, his hot breath against the shell of your ear, and his throbbing member pressed against the curve of your behind as a thumb rubbed circles into your hip bone.

You throw your head back against his muscular chest, craning your neck upwards till you meet his eyes- they soften for the briefest of moments, but the way his tip brushes against your underwear-clad core seems to fill them with raw electricity once more. And you think he’s going to fuck you right there- make you cry out his name for letting another man so close to you. Instead, you gasp as his rough hands grab the flesh of your thighs, kneading the muscle as he spins you around, a smirk being flashed your way as he gets on his knees.

He looks ethereal in that moment. And your breath hitches in your throat as you realise you’ve made a fallen angel bow before you- have tricked him into thinking you can cleanse him of his deeds when the only sinner in this room was you. The way his lips press against the inside of your thighs, nose rubbing against your freshly flowing juices- it’s tantalising, even worse when he takes both your hands in his as they try to find solace in his locks, pinning them to your sides onto the table instead.

He rests his chin right below the apex of your mound, eyes wandering to your face as he sighs, the lazy but smug curve of his lips accentuating the scar you had grown to cherish as much as your own heartbeat.

Your chest is heaving, the sound of your heavy breathing hanging in the silence of the room as you look down at him. If this was to be his ruination- his fall from grace- Toji would die a happy man. The scent of you is lingering right below his nose, his mouth watering alone at the thought, but he cannot seem to pull away his eyes from your beguiling face, bathed in the moonlight. The words seem to escape him before he can think twice of them.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

You’ve barely let his words settle in before he presses his thumb right against your wet heat, rubbing small circles onto your sensitive bud. You don’t have a chance to respond as he proceeds to dive into your drenched cunt- his tongue giving kitten-licks to your clit, lapping up any wetness that dares to drip down. You cry out loud as two of his fingers join his mouth’s onslaught, slapping a hand against your own mouth remembering where you were.

The sounds filling the room as he suctions your clit in between his lips are filthy- arms wrapping around and under your thighs, pulling your arousal even closer to his starving mouth, the new angle of your leg being thrown over his shoulder letting his fingers rub against the spongy spot inside your walls that makes the coil in your stomach snap. You’re grinding against his face and he’s letting you, nose pressing onto your clit as he licks up the remnants of your juices, fingers continuing to fuck you through your climax as they quiver and shake around his head.

You’re still coming down from your high, body hanging limp at an awkward angle against the hard wooden surface. His strong burly arms are easily lifting you up, carrying you towards the other side of the room- right towards the glass window. Your eyes widen as you realise the malicious idea that has popped up into your lover’s head, but you’re barely able to put in two words of protest before your feet are hitting the ground, the cold surface making you gasp as your tits are pushed against it. You’re crying out loud as he rubs his thick length against your soppy folds.

“Toji- someone could see us- we shouldn’t- ah!”

You’re cut off as he lines himself up at your entrance, a pleasurable burn down in your core as his girth stretches your walls. It always hurts. No matter how many times he’s made you cum on his fingers and tongue or prepped you up with an ointment- his size is something no one would ever get accustomed to. He knows it too, but tonight he seems to care less about taking it slow and letting you adjust. You honestly cannot care less too, not when you're gushing around him as such when he’s barely even halfway inside.

“Too big Toji- too much.” You’re mewling, hands trying to grip onto something.

“You can take it- fuck just let me-”

He’s hastily moving his fingers across your stomach to rub your pulsing bud, groaning lewdly at the way your cunt flutters around him, letting him move deeper inside of you.

The growl that leaves him as his tip hits your cervix is grossly animalistic, making you moan loudly. His other hand is coming up to grip your jaw, cheek pressed against the glass as he lifts up one of your legs, the angle letting him thrust in and out of your poor drenched hole even deeper. His thrusts turn sloppy, eyes clenched shut above you as the sounds of his balls slapping against your flesh with each thrust fill the room.

You’re both groaning in unison, his strokes getting faster as he feels your walls clamping down on him. You’re choking on a breath as his hand moves to wrap around your throat, the sensation making you moan even louder.

“Call me selfish-”

A sharp smack is delivered against the flesh of your ass causing you to arch your back, the action making your tits press up against the window even more,

“... but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

His lips have been suctioned to your neck, your delightful noises being muffled as he’s turning your head to the side till his tongue slips into your mouth. He tightens his grip around your neck and you’re seeing stars, along with the pace of his fingers on your clit and his rapid thrusts making the well in the bottom of your stomach come apart, tears of pleasure slipping your eyes, the feeling of his seed painting your walls making you clench against him amidst your own orgasm.

You barely feel the arms cradling your body, carrying you to set you down on the table. You furrow your brows as Toji strips himself of his shirt, and your eyes widen at the thought of him ravishing you once more so soon. Instead, you shudder as he swipes it against your sex, cleaning up his mess.

The way you beam at him, even in your exhausted state, is honestly worth the ruined shirt- he finds himself thinking as he moves to pick up your dress from the ground. He clicks his tongue as he realises just how much of shreds he had ripped it into in his feral daze. He’s lifting his head to meet your eyes, wondering how he’ll tell you that you have to find a way to get back to your chambers in this state-

“Oh-”

Your saccharine voice is pulling Toji out of his thoughts, surprise forming across his face as you burst into laughter at the sight of what he’s sure has cost twice as much as all the clothes he’d ever owned combined.

“How well do you think I’d fare going out in one of the potato sacks?”

How could he have not smiled right back at you.

𝘿𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙨- 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙚

Toji had never wanted to rip his own heart out so badly before, inject his blood with ambrosia so that he could be worthy enough for the goddess that was ready to abandon her sanctity- her piece of heaven- for him. He had always known how it would end- in an empty heath of a fire gone out long ago, the only thing keeping it burning now regret and sorrow.

Love could not have sustained you when there was barely enough space to breathe, when there was barely enough food for your kids to live off of. Once the love faded, all that’d remain would be your wish to go back to the past, getting drunk on forgetfulness so that you can survive within the stone cold walls of a house- not a home.

Once again, Toji knew what he had to do- knew he willingly stepped into this hoping to ruin what was supposed to be the prize of his own blood- in order to humiliate them and fulfill his revenge.

He also knew he was the ruined one now as thoughts of you plagued his mind day and night- how his tactful game of cat and mouse had turned into sweet kisses and hushed giggles, and how all he wanted was to find a pit stop in time where his blood did not matter, where the sins of his past did not matter. But despite it all, he knew he couldn’t have dragged you into his own hell, even if you begged him to take you.

He sighs.

You had recited the exact conversation you had with your mother- laid yourself bare before him as you poured out your heart- letting him know that it’d be worth tasting the 7 seeds of evil even if it meant living in hell for half your life.

He had thrown his head back and laughed.

“You really thought our little getaways meant anything more than a fling to me? More than just a decent fuck?”

You stood still, mouth agape at the words that had slipped past his lips, a hand fisting the fabric of his shirt right above his heart, desperately searching for the pulse of the man you’d grown to adore over the past few weeks.

He had looked down at you, the scar you had so tenderly ran your fingers over twitching upwards- in amusement- in laughter, face contorting into one of resentment- of revulsion before he had suddenly stilled.

“Did you forget your place princess? Pretty little head got too lost in a fool’s paradise- did you forget you are one of them- always have been one of them.”

He had spat the last words at you and you wanted to shake your head, wanted to tell him he was utterly wrong, but all you could do was clutch on even tighter to him.

He had put his hand over yours and you had almost begged for him to tell you that this was a sick joke- almost pleaded for him to intertwine his calloused warm hands with yours as he always did- as he had when he made you scream his name, instead you had found yourself gasping at the icy touch as he flicked away your wrist, brows furrowing in repulsion at the contact- at you.

The tears that had slipped through your eyes had only worked to make him throw his head back like a giddy child once more. He had looked up at the sky as if he was mocking the gods in Olympus - look at how I’ve so beautifully wrecked what you created,

while you had stood there looking up at him as if he was your religion, mouthing,

this is not a joke, love me, love me.

𝙊ï𝙯ú𝙨- 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛

You felt raw. But you did not fight the black hole opening up in your chest. You let it settle into your bones, nurtured the hollowness- ignited it until you felt it turn into flames instead.

You couldn’t have let the ice creep into your heart- it would mean giving up the tears, giving up the feeling of wanting to be swallowed whole by the ground beneath, and that would mean you no longer felt- no longer harboured the only thing that made you feel alive in the cage of bones and flesh your troubled mind resided in.

There was a heavy pain in between the arch of your shoulder blades- like your wings had been clipped and your halo ripped away.

You ignored the scowl that rose to her face, the way she flinched as you leaned over to rest your head in her lap. You couldn’t tell if the wetness on your cheeks was yours or hers- mourning the daughter she was going to lose. You felt your mother’s burning gaze through the back of your head all throughout the journey back home- could already feel the wrath of your father and the nasty bruises that were to come as her hand came down to rest on your head.

You instead found yourself being locked away immediately- not a single word from anyone. The only time your door opened was for a maid to serve you your half portioned meals. Not like you had an appetite or a will to do anything else.

Days passed by, perhaps weeks or months, and you counted the scattered marks on the wall beside your bed like you had done once with the freckles across his back, and you waited- for what? You weren’t quite sure yourself. You waited and waited until the day your door opened, but it wasn’t the regular pitter patter of steps of the maid who served the food.

Instead, your eyes met the raging ones of the head of your clan, and for the first time in days, an icy shiver creeped up your spine.

----

The torment you’re put through is much worse than expected. You were well aware you were to be disgraced, to be stripped of your title, but somehow the gaze of your own friends and family avoiding your beaten bloody form and ignoring your whimpers and cries of agony was what had stung the most.

The world seemed to be upside down, fading in and out of hues of colour and greys and blinding lights. You could barely feel the blood dripping down the back of your head and into your shirt as your gaze managed to remain focused on the window outside of the rattling carriage you lay in, panic rising in your chest as you recognised the familiar scenery.

You fought your hardest to stay awake, but you lost to the increasingly heavy pressure against your head, hoping your blood would run dry before you had to face the hell you were being thrown into. As your head lolled to the side, you wondered if satiating the hunger within you was worth the price you were paying- if this was what happened to every soul that had brought the god of the dead to his knees, wondered if you were the first to do so- wondered if you’d be the last.

𝙃𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙨- 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙, 𝙜𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙩

Toji had left the clan- made a living of his own by doing what he did best, by doing what he was made to- destroying and causing wreckage till there was no piece of his soul left to be salvaged.

He had avoided news about you like the plague, and had still ended up finding out that you were locked away back at your home from the gossiping servants. He had chuckled bitterly, what had he been expecting? He was right after all, you'd never have to face any consequences in life, and soon this whole scandal would be swept under the rug and you would be well on your way to marrying another wealthy brat, having filthy little kids with him who’d have the same luxuries in life and-

Toji found his heart dropping, the axe along with the freshly chopped wood he carried thumping down against the forest floor as he reached the entrance of the wooden cabin he had taken residence in. He saw the pool of blood first- the familiar mop of hair later.

No-

He must be hallucinating-

But he still found himself moving out of his own accord, gathering the crumpled figure into his arms, feeling a thick fluid drip down his skin- stain through his shirt as he tried to pick you up. A chill ran down his spine as he realised what those savages had done for your body to resist even in an unconscious state-

And that’s when his eyes slid to the nails in the ground, the sharp metal going right through the flesh of your fingertips, a note pinned to your abdomen in between your shredded dirtied clothes-

“We don’t want the gross wreckage of your perverse ruination. Keep the whore since you wanted her so much.”

A sea of rage rose in the back of Toji’s mind but it stilled, the vicerating waves crashing against the shore that was the barely noticeable action of your chest heaving. He held back what was a choked sob, mind barely sane as he took out the nails as gently as possible- a man so familiar with death yet utterly horrified by it as he counted your laboured breaths, thanked every deity out in the universe for every huff of air that he could feel against his chest as he carried you inside.

—

How do you kill a god?

You had asked him once. He had raised his brow, ruffling your hair before pushing you down onto the bed once more, intent on at least letting you know how you got to heaven.

How do you kill a god?

It now echoed in his mind as he watched your broken body lay on his bed, having done everything he could have to fix you up even though he feared there would be wounds more than just the physical ones when you gained consciousness- if you gained consciousness.

How do you kill a god?

Pit him against another god. Let him stare at his own reflection and see all his glorious flaws until he’s falling to his knees, begging for the taste of ichor to be washed out from his mouth, begging to be stripped of his damned divinity- because the curse of immortality is a heavier burden to carry than the curse of mundane suffering- because it’s easier to drown in a sea full of blood than live with it staining your hands.

𝘼𝙥𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙚- 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣.

“How do you kill a god?” You had asked him once.

Afterwards, you had lain awake late into the night as he had given you a taste of his own holiness, bare in his arms as he had muttered the words into your hair, barely a whisper as they escaped past his bleeding lips,

How do you become a god?

The burning light attacked your eyes and you flinched loud enough for your own ears to ring, and then flinched even harder as the hot searing pain spread through your body, especially across the tips of your bandage covered fingers. You tried to use your voice but your throat was like a desert and your own harsh whisper scraped against your sensitive ears.

All you could do was stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling, lying numb, waiting for your saviour- or perhaps your torturer to come.

All had gone still once the door opened, your gaze falling onto the familiar hands that carried a bowl of water and about a dozen different small bottles in a basket. You stared through him, through his wide blown eyes and through the sigh of relief that left his mouth as he rushed towards you.

How do you become a god?

There was much more you had wanted to tell your mother. You had told her you were sick of pretending, sick of being the goddess of spring when everything you touched died in your hands- how every beam of light you emitted was a stolen one from another soul. Perhaps, you had always craved pomegranates and death - had always willingly walked into the darkness with a smile and open arms.

How do you become a god?

You let him plead and writhe to have a taste of your lips - make him believe it is his only salvation. And right when his lips meet yours, you dig your teeth in deep and not let go, even as his fingers grip the column of your throat and his growls rumble inside your mouth. You let the trail of crimson coat your tongue and feel his tears burn your flesh- you make him taste your blood and take his throne.

—

He says your name like it’s a prayer and you want to rip out his heart.

Instead, you turn your head towards the wall opposite to where he stands, clenching your eyes shut, hoping the next time you wake up it won’t be here.

Still, you can hear his voice. Every single day of every waking moment- even as you sleep- even as you wake up in cold sweat haunted by the bittersweet melody of his laughter the day he crushed your heart in two, or the time your own blood nailed you down into the earth.

But most of all, you hate it when you can hear the gruffness of his voice, still heavy from sleep as you let him cradle your head, shushing you- letting you know it was just a nightmare- but it was a nightmare you had lived through- a nightmare he had put you through.

Not that he didn’t acknowledge it equally as much. It was odd- almost laughable the way he was so desperate to bring even just a flicker of the light back inside your eyes, breaking free from his stoic and tight lipped demeanour to whisper grossly sweet nothings into your hair.

He had explained his regrets the first few days that you had refused to even look at him, simply staring at the wall as he stripped you of your clothes to redo your bandages, not even the barest of reaction visible across your face. He had caused this.

The first words you had muttered to him weren’t of hatred or anger or sadness- they were said into the heavy air, late into the hours before dusk at a point in time where your bones still couldn't support the burden of your body,

“I need to pee.”

You had said it through gritted teeth, had scowled throughout the process of him picking you up and carrying you into the bathroom, giving you privacy to do your business.

The second time you had spoken to him was right after and it had somehow dented itself much deeper than he had expected it to, even as it was all he had been preparing himself for in the past few days,

“I hate you.”

You had said it with no anger, no poison in your words- had simply stated it like it was a mere fact.

“I know.”

—

It was weeks later and you seemed to have fallen into a strange routine.

He’d go out to do his filthy work, come back bathed in blood and dirt, even as he washed himself off outside thinking he was sly with it. You’d pretend not to notice as you’d cook for yourself, sometimes leaving bits behind as leftovers even if you had purposely spilled the extra bit of rice- had regretted it as soon as you had realised you had done it because he hadn’t had dinner in three days.

Perhaps it was the irony of the situation, and maybe even the cold winter air creeping into your bones that let him move from simply holding you when you woke from your nightmares- to him warming your bed at night even when you dreamed of nothing but the scar beside his lip.

Still, you let him know you despised him every night that he pulled your body against his chest and every morning that he rubbed his warm hands up and down your arms. Even as you felt yourself leaning into his touch, felt your heart softening at how he’d mutter apologies into your hair while he thought you were asleep, how he’d pay attention to the foods you took more of and made sure to get twice the amount next time, how he’d shred his own shirts to provide you with cloth for when you got your monthly cycles. Yet, you couldn’t find any other words to say to him.

𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚- 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

You had woken up alone as you did on most mornings, grateful that you wouldn’t have to face the shame that came with having your limbs tangled with him. The day was like any other yet different, perhaps it was the monotonous dread of living a life such as this- of having to live at all after being stripped of everything you had called yours.

You had somehow ended up taking steps outside of the wooden door, outside of the small garden the burly man used to grow his own vegetables, and even farther outside the vines and shrubs that kept the cabin hidden from any unwanted visitors.

You had walked and walked till your feet carried you to the edge of the world, a never ending fall down below from where you stared at, the sound of water flowing signalling the presence of a river running deep under the steep cliff.

You had stopped walking, the silence of the forest being the only noise to have outdone the heavy emptiness in your heart in months. And you simply continued to stand there, bare feet digging into the dirt and grass and stone, barely realising when the light faded away and darkness took over. Hadn’t it always been like this?

It had taken no more than two rounds of the house and the trail of footsteps in the garden out back for Toji to realise you had left. His heart had dropped into his chest as he had followed the dents of your feet in the ground, careful not to step on them as his mind bitterly reminded him that it may be the last of what’s left of you by now.

He knew where the trail you had walked along led- had himself sat on the edge of it once, legs dangling off as he his mind had replayed the memory of your glossy eyes and crestfallen face when he had hit you with those fatal words months ago. Toji’s breath hitches in his throat, hands shaking as he pulls away the last branch blocking the view of the edge of the cliff.

His feet are moving faster than his mind can think as he all but falls onto his knees, clutching your abdomen as if you’d disappear forever if he let you go now. You turn around in his arms, a look of confusion on your face, your eyes still as hollow as a void but all he cares about right now is the steady thumping he can feel with his chest pressed to yours. He’s clenching his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before he’s sliding his hand into yours. You don’t protest- letting him lead you back into the warm safety of his house and he’s too relieved to consider whether your lack of resistance is a good thing or not.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and you can hear him ruffling through something in the bathroom, door ajar, eyes glancing towards you every two seconds as if he’s expecting you to bolt out the door any second now. For once, you don’t want to stare at the wall as he walks towards you, getting down on his knees- making a blow of nostalgia hit you right in the gut. But your eyes remain fixed at the top of his head, at the dark locks that had grown out much more since the last time you had let yourself gaze at him.

You only realise what he’s been doing as you notice the bowl of water kept on the floor, hands gently lifting up your dirty feet, cleaning them of the mud and the blood from small scrapes. He’s lifting up your legs onto the bed once he’s done, adjusting your pillow as a gesture for you to lay down. He’s blowing out the lamps and soon enough you feel the mattress dip, his arms engulfing you tighter than ever before. You can feel the slight tremble in them and you feel guilty for the small pinch in your chest. You wait for his breathing to steady, head to fall limp into the crook of your neck before you roll over towards him in the dark, eyes set on the small crinkle between his forehead and brow.

The warm hand that cups Toji’s cheek has him convinced that he may have lost his mind. Opening his eyes, he knows for sure that you have. Especially as you slide your other hand into his, pulling it till it’s placed onto the crest between your collarbone and chest, adjusting it a little more towards the left. Toji’s staring intently at you, wondering if this is your way of telling him that you’re still alive- that even though you’ve been cursed and damned to living in this hell, your heart still beats- it still fights.

Toji bares his own emotions through a gesture- pulling the small hand that holds his to the apex between his upper ribs- pressing it till your fingers feel like they might just pass through his flesh. He hopes you know that if he could, he’d snap each one of his ribs open so that you can reach inside and press the palm of your hand against his beating heart, rip it right out of his body and spit inside the hollow space of his ribs with contempt- even then he’d survive on your hatred alone if it means surviving with you for the rest of his life.

“I don’t hate you.”

The words are whispered in the dead of the night with no emotion, no trace of forgiveness or affection- simply stated as if they are common knowledge.

The soft lips coming down on his own have his mind spinning. He realises what it is you wish for- to be able to live once again as a human, to feel once again as a mortal- he can almost almost hear you saying the words into his mouth as your fist bunches up the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m tired of being a god.”

He can feel his own sentiment being passed right through as his hands slide under the cloth of his shirt that you wore, exploring the expanse of your reverenced skin, mouthing his response against your cupid’s bow.

“I’ll worship you even after you fall from grace.”

And he does, pulling himself up on arms above you, dipping his fingers into your soaking sex, making quick work of ridding you and himself of your clothes. He’s tucking your legs against your chest, feet dangling over his broad shoulders as he comes forward to meet your lips. He’s pulling away and you’re mewling at the loss of contact- the loss of his taste.

“Do you want this? Do you want-” He takes a deep breath, forehead coming forward to press against yours till your noses brush against each other, “...me?”

Your response comes in the form of sliding your hands to the back of his head, pulling him forward till his lips crash against yours once more- bucking your hips up till the tip of his massive girth is brushing against your heat. He doesn’t miss the moan that escapes you, eagerly kissing you back, moving to litter a plethora of kisses against your jaw- your neck- your collarbone. When he comes back up to your face, he’s well aware of the effect he’s had on you- the want in your eyes as you lift your hips against his once more, a small plea leaving your mouth.

The need that comes over him is animalistic as he moves a hand down to position himself before sliding into your soppy hole, he swears he can see stars with how hungrily you swallow him in. You’re gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he strokes your insides so languidly. Your faces are close enough for you to feel his breath on your mouth, to feel the fall of the hot droplets on your cheeks, your own tears of grief- of freedom- of a love gone to waste so long ago combining as he continues to thrust in and out of you deeply.

He’s dipping his head and the tears are being kissed away as his hand moves down to play with your over sensitive bud. You can't stop peppering kisses against his lips, moaning his name in his ear as he hits a particular spot inside you. He can feel you getting closer with how your breaths get deeper, fingers moving faster, strokes getting sloppier.

You feel the tight coil in your stomach start to unravel, and all it takes is for him to lower his head and suction his lips around one of your nipples for you to come apart underneath him. He’s reaching his own arousal soon after, pulling out to spray his seed onto your stomach. He all but collapses on top of you, rolling over to his side once he catches his breath, another hitching in his throat as he finds you crawling onto his lap, legs straddling his waist as you bury your face into his naked chest.

This is what being a god feels like. The taste of wine coating your tongue and the way his lips meld with yours- swallow you whole and then spit you out. You reach for him again in the dark, his chest panting against yours as the moonlight cascading from the window hits his face. You rest your chin against the centre of his chest, looking up at him with droopy eyes, his own stare right back at you- filled with tenderness and affection.

“No one will ever hurt you again, I promise.”

His voice is gruff and heavy, but carries a sincerity warm enough to send tingles down your back. You can’t quite place the look on his face, it's determined- pointed. You can feel the unravelling of the violence beneath his skin as his hand comes to cradle your jaw, and you wonder just what kind of monsters the god of the underworld plans to unleash.

His hand moves to caress the back of your head, adoration-filled eyes raking over your still panting figure. He presses his lips to your temple and says your name like a prayer. It all floods in- the pain- the love- the sorrow- the joy- you’re sobbing and he’s holding you like he has time and again. Only this time, he finds himself awestruck by the spark of ember that comes alive in your eyes, even if just for a second, he knows you’re going to be fine.

The god of the dead had bowed before you, offered you his crown, his throne- would have ripped off the flesh from his own back and handed it to you without any hesitation if only you asked.

You were the goddess of spring and everyone had loved your life and light, but who except him had acknowledged the death and destruction that came along- had reached out their hands into the rotten parts of your flesh and kissed every bruise and scar?

This was Toji Fushiguro’s life now, coming back home to his precious darling each day- the only burst of spring in his everlasting winter, the only ray of light in his world swallowed by darkness.

Tonight, as you lay on him bare-bodied and covered in sweat from your previous feat, he finds you asking him about the season, about how far the harvest festival was. He’s confused at your sudden curiosity but answers you nonetheless, telling you it’s in a fortnight. He finds himself asking why.

“Every single member of our blood attends the festival- they had waited for it while they kept me away.”

It’s the first time you’re talking about the incident and he can feel you quiver in his arms. It makes his blood boil, and he finds himself protectively pulling you even closer into him.

“...they had wanted each and every single one of them to get a chance to cut through my skin.”

That’s all you say before falling asleep, the tears on Toji’s chest making a storm of anger rage inside his mind.

It’s a fortnight later and Toji watches the red and orange hues of the flames making your face glow brighter than the sun.

You’re standing there hand-in-hand with him, looking over the half wrecked ruins of the village, the screams of the people you had grown up with- who had taken no less than a second to turn their backs on you- who had left you to die- now echoing in your ears. Right on the edge of the hilltop you stand on, you see a small figure running towards the slope, clothes burnt, high pitched sobs filling the air as it succumbs to the heat that had spread through it’s bones.

She must’ve been eight or nine years old judging from her size and half burnt frills of the frock she wore. You know she’s at peace, much like the many others who would’ve faced nothing but agonising hardships being raised in the hands of your cruel persecutors- all of whom lay as nothing but bones and ash and dust now.

Toji’s worried that he’ll find the same emptiness he’s spent months breaking through as he glances over at your face. Instead, there’s a fire being reflected in your eyes, a sadistically deliciously smile stretched across your supple cheeks. He finds his own lips curving as he grips your jaw to turn your head and press his lips to yours, the screams and shouts of your monsters merely anything but white noise as your fingers come to tangle in his hair.

After all, Hades may have been the god of the dead, but it was Persephone’s wrath which brought upon the destruction.

credit- prompt list

taglist-@captainmads2092 @mahitochan @nakachuchu @bakugohoex @jotazinha @osmosly @avasparks @p-each-y-day @lilshortcakess @saturnmoon @deary-darling @menaintshit23 @tobidabio @sukuna5slut @instantnuma @kuroshitsujjiii @half-baked-biscuit @duskamethyst @sukumen @radishfern

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk smut #jjk tw #jjk angst #jjk hcs #toji angst #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji fluff #gojo smut #sukuna smut #hades persephone retelling

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youryanderedaddy · 3 years

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Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

-------------------------------------------------------

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yancore #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere concepts

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harrysbbby · 4 years

Text

Don’t Forget Where You Belong - JJ Maybank x Reader - Part Four

A/N: once again this is another longggg part! and I've only just finished ep 1 ahhh! So I think I might try to condense the storyline a little because otherwise I’ll never finish this series, and also focus more off Y/N and JJ. If you have any suggestions please let me know! Hope you all enjoy xx also let me know if you want to be tagged.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Somehow you ended up in the marsh despite it being closed and John B getting a very clear, direct warning about going into it again. He had tried to convince you all it was a bad idea after Sherriff Peterkin offered to help him, but JJ’s uppity “Kooks always win” speech somehow morphed into ‘steal scuba gear from the Cameron’s boat and dive down to the Grady-White wreck.

“This is empty,” you stated, looking across at the group, letting your arm holding the tank fall limp in defeat.

“You took empty tanks?” Kie asked John B accusingly, as he plopped down next to her.

“I-“ he started to defend himself but you cut him off looking at the last tank’s gauge,

“Okay, this one's a quarter full. It’s enough for one of us.”

“Love it when a plan comes together,” Pope said sarcastically. You shot him a look and he raised his hands in defence as you went back to inspecting the tank to make sure it was ready.

“Does anybody know how to dive?” Kie asked. You all remanded silent. She huffed, “Anybody?”

“It's kind of a Kook sport,” JJ retorted looking between you and Kie. She just shook her head and he turned to you. You stopped tinkering with the tanks when you noticed his prolonged stare.

“Don’t look at me, David hates the water,” you said, David being your unnecessarily rich stepdad who gave you by association Kook status.

“That’s ironic,” JJ said dryly.

“What isn’t about that man,” you said giving him a sly smile. He snorted as he laughed. The whole gang knew about your Pogue mothers rise to Kook-dom. She had married David, the rich, yet very poorly dressed boats salesman. Yes, the Figure Eight’s most successful marina salesman was afraid of water. Go figure, everything about him was a contradiction.

“I... read about it,” Pope sighed, getting the coversation back on track.

“Great, Pope read about it, so someone's gonna die,” Kie said defensively.

“Have a bit of faith, Kie,” you joked. She just rolled her eyes at you as JJ piped up,

“Look, y-you put the thing in your mouth and breathe. How hard could it be?”

“That’s not how it works JJ,” you said rubbing a hand over your face in mild frustration, moving to stand next to him ad beside Pope’s seat.

“If you come up too fast, nitrogen gets into your blood,” Pope explained to him, looking to you for confirmation, to which you nodded, “and you get the bends.”

“The bends, like bend over…” JJ said bending himself over the steering bench, sticking his ass directly into you. You rolled your eyes as you giggle, leaning over to put a hand on his shoulder.

“The bends kill you,” you informed him, slapping his shoulder twice. Your body retreated, as he turned to look at you. He stood up straight and rolled his shoulders back.

“Right,” he said sheepishly, nodded as if he knew that. You laughed and you shoved him playfully.

“I can-- I can dive,” John B piped up.

“You can dive. I'm cool with that,” JJ agreed with no hesitiation.

“Since when can you dive?” Kie asked him.

“Since today, apparently,” you said looking at him conveying the seriousness of this all. If he did this wrong he could get himself killed. John B looked directly at you and nodded, understanding exactly what you were trying to get across to him.

“I'll do it. It's fine,” he affirmed, standing up to put the tank on his back.

“Let me do some calculations real quick,” Pope said. As he was trying to work out the amount of time John B had for the amount of air, you felt breath tickle the back of your ear.

“Do the bends really kill you?” JJ asked quietly. You let a breath of air puff out your nose as you turned to him.

“Yeah, JJ,” You said resting your arm on his bicep. You could feel his muscle flex under your touch. “It’s the term for decompression sickness.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, pulling an impressed face. He lazily rested his arm across your shoulders pulling you in closer, “Learn something new everyday.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you turned back to listen to Pope.

“Which means you need to make your safety stop at about... ten feet,” he said. You looked between Pope and John B. You knew John B was smart and intuitive but you didn’t trust him to actually stop at ten feet without prompting. You played with the hem of your singlet top as a idea popped into you head.

With one swift movement you shrugged JJ’s arm off your shoulder and removed your top over your head. You stepped onto the side of the boat and dove into the water

“Uh, what was that all about?” Pope asked unsure why you had jumped into the water so suddenly.

“I don’t know, but I liked it,” JJ said stunned. He was enchanted with every movement you ever made. The way you forcefully but at the same time with care moved his arm back to his side. The way your hair flowed in the air as you flicked it back after taking your shirt off. And they way you floated through the air as you gracefully dove into the water. “A lot.”

Kie watched JJ intetly. Watching how his eyes stayed trained on where you had last hit the water. And the way they lit up as you reemerged.

“I tied my T-shirt to the anchor chain about ten feet down,” you explained as you climbed back into the boat, grabbing JJ’s had for assistance. “It's where you need to do your safety stop.”

Once you were on your feet JJ hastily moved his hands away from you, quickly turning to John B.

“Uh, so...” he said awkwardly, refusing to look in your direction, “when you're down there, you look for the cargo hold. You stick this thing inside and twist and pull, okay?” he moved past you to explain to John B what to do. You heart dropped as you moved towards your bag to get your towel to dry off a bit. He could not have wanted to get away from you quicker, you thought.

“Stick in, twist, pull,” John B nodded.

“Keep an eye on this,” Pope said, pointing to the gauge on the tank, “You need to make sure you have enough air to decompress.”

“Okay, how much do I need?” he asked.

“Unclear.” Pope said, “Breathe as little as possible.”

“Zen. Think Zen, you know?” JJ said, imitating breathing through a mask.

“Yeah. Got it,” John B confirmed.

“You guys better get a move on!” You called to them from the other side of the boat where you sat drying your hair, “if we get caught in the marsh we’re screwed.”

“Copy that,” John B saluted at you. Kie stepped forward to stand infront of him. She leant forward and planted a kiss on his cheek (again). You raised your eyebrows at her actions and crossed your arms over your chest as you continued to watch them interact.

“Diver down?” he said to her.

“Diver down,” Kie replied. John B moved to the side of the boat before slipping into the water. They watched as John B submerged into the water, before she turned around to face you, your arms still crossed over your chest, a smug look on your face.

“What?” she asked accusingly. Taking a seat on the other end of the boat and mimicking your actions of crossing her arms over her chest.

JJ sat down beside you, a look of amusement on his face as he watched you two talk.

“You know what,” you said looking her straight in the eyes. She had kissed John B on the check, again! “You don’t wanna start something you can’t finish,” you warned her.

She went to retort but a siren interrupted interrupted.

“Shit,” Pope cursed as you all turned to see Shoupe and aother cop coming towards you in police boat.

“That’s the police,” JJ said, stress laced in his tone, “yep, that’s the police.”

“Thanks for the confirmation J.” you said sarcastically.

“Just act frickin' normal,” Kie said, adjusting her shoulders.

Shoupe’s boat arrived next to yours. JJ stood from next to you to tie their boat off onto yours. Shoupe climbed aboard after you very badly faked innocence about the marsh being closed. As he inspected the boat you could feel your heart race. It had been a few minutes now and you knew John B would start to be running out of air soon. JJ had resumed his sport next to you after tying of the boat. He sensed your stress, seeing your leg bob up and down nervously. He reached his hand across and rested it on your thigh. You looked to him and he offered you a small smile which you returned. You found comfort in his touch.

“Let us know if you see anything on your way out,” Shoupe said exiting the boat.

“Will do, sir,” you answered as JJ moved to untie their boat. You all waited until they were a far way away, before rushing to the side of the boat, looking over into the water. John B was nowhere to be seen.

“He's definitely out of air,” Pope said, not reassuringly. But as if on cue, John B’s head emerged from the water. He ripped off the mask and took a deep breath of air.

“There is he,” JJ stated elatedly.

“Thank God,” You chorused. The four of you laughed as you helped an out of breath John B back onto the boat.

“Did you find anything?” JJ asked him.

“Did I find anything?” John B echoed, smiling boyishly as he threw the duffle toward him.

“That’s my boy,” JJ congratulated.

“Are you okay?” You asked him.

“Yeah, but I ran out of air.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” Kie scolded.

“Yeah, the cops were up here, but, uh... took care of 'em,” Pope informed him. Something moving in the distance caught your eye. You brows furrowed as you strained your eyes to get a better look.

“Yeah, you kinda missed the show, brother,” Jj said to John B, pulling him to his feet and helping him get the tank off. Your eyes finally adjusted in the sun and you could see a white boat with two large men on it coming towards you.

“Hey, guys? Guys, bogey, two o'clock.”

“What?” JJ asked, as your four friends turned to see what you were looking at.

“Do you recognize that boat?” Pope asked.

“I’ve never seen it.” Kie said, “What are they doing here? The marsh is closed.”

“Let's not stick around and find out,” JJ said.

“Get the bowline,” John B instructed him. He instantly moved to grab it and start yanking in onto the boat.

“Should we wait on 'em?” Pope asked. Something about this felt fishy: it felt determined and calculated so you were glad when John B ordered,

“No, we're not.”

“Are you joking? JJ, hurry up,” Kie urged him to move faster as the boat approached and John B started the engine.

“Guys, don't wait for me,” JJ order, pulling on the rope as fas as he could. “Go.”

You moved to help JJ pull the rope up faster and John B started to turn the boat around.

“I don't like this,” you commented, wiping your wet hands on your legs as John B manoeuvred the boat.

“Maybe they're fishing,” Pope suggested but it reached deaf ears. That was not what they were here for.

“Let’s go,” Kie urged John B to go faster.

“I'm going. Act natural,” he said as he turned down one of the channels.

They’re following us,” Kie confirmed as the boat took the same path we did.

“This can’t be good.”

“Dude you gotta go faster,” JJ said putting a hand on your lower back to talk around you at John B.

“I’m going!” He strained, pushing the boat to maximum speed.

An ear-piercing shot rang through the air. You felt JJ grab the back of your neck ad pull you dow with him.

“Holy shit!” Kie screamed.

JJ kept his arm above your head as he used his other arm to tug at John B

“Get down,” He told him. John B lowerd slightly but had to keep his head up to navigate quickly though the terrain. You could feel your heart beating and your breath quicken.

Another shot rang out and JJ pushed you down further, practically laying on top of you, acting as a shield. Kie and Pope were crouched on the other side of the boat.

“We’re gonna die!” Pope yelled, covering his head.

A third shot narrowly missed John B as he swung around a corner. There had to be something to help, because you weren’t getting out of this alive otherwise. Your eyes searched the boat, desperately trying to find something to inspire a plan. Your eyes landed on a large piece of netting. Kie could see you looking at it and had the same idea.

“Shit! Pope, move!” she ordered as she stepped over his boady. You escaped from under JJ’s grasp as you reached for it with her. Another shot was fired.

“Y/N, get down!” you heard JJ’s deparate voice call for you, but you and Kie had already grabbed the netting and tugged it over John B and chucked it into the water. It landed on the surface and floated there for a few seconds until the two mans’ boat drove over it. Their engine spluttered as their boat came to a halt. Kie held out her fist for you and you laughed as you bumped it.

The rest of the group let out a few whoops as you retreated back to where JJ was still half laying on the ground. You slumped next to him and exhaled a deep breath. He stood you up and warpped his arms around your waist, lifting you into the air.

“Booyah,” he cheered as you giggled.

“That was insane!” Kie laughed as she caught her breath.

You eventually made it back to John B’s. All of you clamoured off the boat and onto the pontoon as he dropped the duffel bag from the Grady-White in front of you.

“What do you think it is?” Kie asked allowed as John B sifted through the bag.

“Gotta be money, right?” John B questioned.

“That or a couple of keys with street value to the low- to mid-mils!” JJ said excitedly. John B responded with a little ooooh!

“Can we please just open the bag?” Pope blurted out loudly. The four of you looked at him shocked.

“Wow Pope,” John B said, slowly moving back to ruffle through the bag.

“That was a rare outburst of emotion,” you stated to him. JJ snickered at your comment.

“You guys are literally killing me with anticipation.”

“Jeez,” JJ amused.

“We almost died over this,” Pope retorted as John B plucked a cannister from the bag. You looked at it quizzically as John B pried it open to reveal… a compass?

“Oh, wow. Yup,” Pope said sarcastically, “That's about right Good job, everybody. We found a compass,”

You kept your eyes trained on John B. He was staring at the compass intently. Like he knew something you all didn’t. The group had also noticed how long John B had been staring at it for.

“It’s not like it’s worth anything,” JJ said defeated, urging John B to put down the seemingly worthless find.

“JJ,” you said in a warning tone. You put your hand out to get him to stop. He immediately stopped joking as he read your serious expression. “What is it John B?”

“This was my father's,” he said, sadness and elation evident in his voice.

Tag list

@downbytheouterbanks @thesailbells @sexualparkour @bestfriendmagic @mileven-reddie @nikki082489 @treestarrrrrrrr @mynamessusan @kristinaxilliano @love-bean @lauraxwndrlnd @jjsthumbring @imsad05 @lovelymaybankk @http-cherries @belledutchess @queen1054 @wicked-laugh

#jj outer banks #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank #outer banks #john b x sarah #john b x reader #rudy pankow #outer banks fanfiction

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nxrthmizu · 3 years

Text

| snakes | Suna Rintarou

»»——⍟——««

song | Trust Fund Baby - Why Don’t We

pairing | Suna Rintarou x Reader

words | 1.8k

warning(s) | The reader has undertones of someone who’s sort of mean and sadistic? The story also relates the reader to a snake. I like snakes. I think they’re cool. But if you’re scared of snakes and you’re uncomfortable with the idea of being referenced to a snake,,, don’t read, I guess?

author’s note | I rewrote this five fricking times and I still hate it but I’m not writing this again so have this

»»——⍟——««

Confidence.

He could feel it radiating off you in waves. Your presence diffused into the gym, alerting every person in the room of your arrival. Attention was drawn to you like moths were drawn to the light, every pair of eyes magnetised to your form by the gym door.

Kita instantly rushed over to greet you politely, the details of your conversation too far away to be heard. For a brief moment, Suna registered just how well the two of you looked together.

L/N Y/N, the representative and top student of his class, the newly-elected second-year secretary of the student council. No one doubted that you would take the president position in your third year, not with the ‘perfect student’ image you had going on.

Kita Shinsuke, also top in grades, captain of the volleyball club, well-liked by the staff and students alike due to his politeness and nature.

The two of you looked like a perfect imitation of what a modern royalty would be like. A combination of grace, elegance, and a face that was hardly fazed by anything. Something similar to bitterness ate away in the bottom of Suna’s heart as he turned away, muttering about putting more practice into his blocks.

“What was she looking for you for?” He overheard Aran asking.

“Oh, she’s filling in some missing information for our club. She came over to clarify some details.” Kita answered easily.

Suna wasn’t really surprised when a couple third years, belonging to the student council committee- Showed up on the doorsteps of your shared class, asking to see you. Later on, he learned that the entire council body had brought up your name when asked which second-year should be elected as the secretary. You were well-known, even among the third years, as someone who possessed high intellect and organisation abilities, so it wasn’t a shock that your name was the one that nearly everyone suggested.

If only they knew.

If only they knew that you weren’t completely that ‘perfect student’ act that you’d put up.

If only they knew just how cunning, sly, and sarcastic you really were.

»»——⍟——««

If Suna had to describe you in one word, it would be snake.

You were the definition of elegance, grace, and beauty. Every movement you made was meticulously calculated and not a single joule of energy was wasted or passed off as inefficiently used. There was never a hair out of place, and your skirt was never creased, no matter how long you had been sitting at your seat.

Of course, Suna hadn’t always thought of you as a snake. It was only after that one fine summer day in his first year that his perception of you took a 180 turn, revealing to him what you truly were like.

He had been on his way home, bag slung over his shoulder, when he caught the slight noise that seemed like a whimper. Never one to leave his nose out of someone else’s business, Suna slunk around, careful to stick to the shadows until the shocking sight befell his eyes.

“So, you’re the one who’s been bullying [your brother’s name]?” The voice that dripped from your lips was distasteful, as if the junior high student that you had cornered in the alley was a filthy peasant compared to your royal status. “You don’t look very fierce now, do you?”

If sarcasm was an art, then you’d probably be a DaVinci-level expert. He would even go as far as calling you a prodigy. And if there was a championship for the world’s most sarcastic human being, he would instantly sign you up. There was no doubt that you’d take home the no.1 trophy in that category (not that you weren’t already taking home trophies in other competitions, of course, he overheard that you recently dominated an advanced maths competition).

“I— I’m sorry!” The student shivered under your piercing gaze. “I— I won’t touch him again, I promise—!”

The laugh you responded with was overly sweet, combined with something from a Disney movie villain. If the movie also, by chance, happened to have ‘horror’ as its’ genre. Your eyes carried a maniacal threat that Suna believed wholeheartedly that you were capable of carrying out. “Bold of you to assume I’d even let you do it again.” You whispered, just loud enough for Suna to catch your words.

The junior high student scrambled off, too busy getting away to notice Suna by the entrance of the alley. He slipped away before you reappeared at the beginning of the alley, having fixed your hair and flattened your skirt.

You looked like a snake that had just finished a very satisfying meal. Suna could hardly believe that he had just heard you— the pride and joy of every teacher, the ‘perfect student’— spitting insults and threats at 200 words per minute, all while maintaining a ‘polite’ and ‘sweet’ tone.

He was a little breathless after the whole ordeal. He could barely imagine what you would say to him if you’d caught him listening— But damn, part of him wanted to find out if he could withstand your literature-form venom. Truly, you were a snake— A creature that could hold its’ elegance even as your tore your prey apart (verbally).

Suna always liked snakes.

»»——⍟——««

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with L/N, Kita.” Aran teased, Suna overhearing as he stepped into the locker room for morning practice. Freezing in his tracks, the middle blocker curved right round the bend, staying out of sight. “There’s been a lot of rumours about how nice the two of you look together.”

The volleyball captain only hummed in response, which, for some reason, pissed the hell out of Suna.

“Come on, tell me something.” The other third-year complained. “She’s really pretty, I’d totally see why you’d go for her.”

Something about the situation made Suna’s blood boil. He bit back his rising anger, setting aside the cause for the moment. Why was he getting so riled up? He never cared much about things in general, anyway, so... So why was the image of you and Kita, matching polite smiles on your lips— Why did it make him so furious he had to physically resist the urge to punch a wall?

“The two of you do look nice together, though.” Aran continued as Suna pushed down the urge to strangle his upperclass-man. “Gives me the vibes of—”

Before Aran could finish his sentence, the dark-haired middle blocker marched into the locker room, apologising for how loudly he had slammed the door open. “Sorry.” He drawled lazily, restraining the lava-hot anger in his blood. “I pushed too hard.”

»»——⍟——««

You didn’t even blink, much less jump when Suna appeared abruptly by your desk. Instead, you simply set down your pencil and gave him a warm smile. “Can I help you with something?”

Ever the helpful class president, Suna bit back to himself. No, no, he wanted you to like him. Not get a bad impression of him. “Do you... Think you could help me with the physics homework?”

“It’s due tomorrow.” You said slowly, both of you aware that the assignment was well over forty pages. “Have you... Tried it?”

“Yes.” He answered. “I’ve got a few questions I need help with. Are you free to stay back today?”

This raised a tentative eyebrow from you. “Don’t you have volleyball practice?”

Dammit, why did you have to have such a good memory.

“Academics are more important than the club sometimes.” He shrugged. “I’ve got permission to skip.” No, he didn’t.

“Alright then. I’ll meet you in the library after school.”

»»——⍟——««

He watched you through hooded eyes as you reviewed his work. So you did know how to let loose, Suna murmured to himself in amusement, eyeing your untucked blouse and the beige sweater you’d thrown on in a defence against the library’s air-conditioning.

“You’ve got most of the parts down, which bits do you need help with?”

The rest of the time was spent going over the questions, your patience filling the silence along with his occasional ‘ohs’. Your handwriting flooded through his homework in neat rows, providing an easy-to-follow, step-by-step guide on how to work through the questions, for revision purposes.

“So.”

You broke the silence, the two of you walking side by side, leaving the school together because he offered to buy you some food as a payment for the tutoring.

“Are you going to tell me why you faked confusion and asked me to tutor you?”

He winced. How could he forget that you were always straight to the point?

“What do you mean?” The look on your face clearly said ‘feigning ignorance, eh?’.

“I’m going to be frank with you,” You deadpanned. “You’re among the best at physics in our class. Some of the questions you asked me to help you through were ones that had been discussed in classes, and I know that you are listening even though you have your head on the table.”

Alright, so he had under-predicted exactly how observant and attentive you were.

“Then why did you agree to help me?”

“You saw me that day, didn’t you?”

He stopped walking. “Which day?”

“That day. In our first year. When I threatened that junior high kid in the alley.” You stopped too, to turn your expressionless gaze on him. “You’ve looked at me differently since that day. I heard someone else’s breathing at the alley, but I didn’t see anyone so I figured they’d ran. I guessed it was you.”

“... Yeah.”

“You don’t seem to mind.”

“Mind what?”

“The fact that this...” You gestured to yourself. “Is a lie. This whole ‘perfect student’ image is an act that I put up to please my parents. I’m actually someone who has really mean thoughts. I could be a really toxic friend. I’m also probably a sadist.”

Suna blinked quietly at you, running your words through his head a couple more times for good measure. “You remind me of a snake.”

In that one sentence, you realised that if there was one person in the world that was going to be fine with your personality the way it was, that person would probably be Suna Rintarou. The two of you continued your walk to the takoyaki shop Suna offered to buy you food from, continuing meaningless chatter on the journey.

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

“I like snakes.”

“That’s cool. Me too.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I think they’re pretty cool. They’re like spiders, except they’re not insects. I don’t like insects very much.”

“Hmm. I like snakes cause I think they’re really elegant. And pretty.” He paused for a moment. “Like you.”

»»——⍟——««

taglist. @mrs-kuroojinguji @procrastination-lady @miel-meraki @shoyosun @aka-a-shii @shibayamasbae @churochuu @seijohlogy @dearsukuna @whootwhoot

Haikyuu!! gen taglist. @owlywrites @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @our-tall-slytherin-queen

#suna rintarou #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! fluff #what even is this #fluff?#suna rintarō #suna #suna x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader #cady writesss «#cadowly's songfic december

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screamingatanemptyroom · 5 years

Text

I Can’t Eat Love Side Part 5- Queen Amerande (END)

Hey everyone, this is the final side part to the I Can’t Eat Love series. Thank you to everyone who has stuck through this whole process. I have loved writing it, loved answering the asks and hearing your thoughts on the characters and the stories. I cherished each message, comment, fan art... all of it!

Masterpost is linked here.

For the last time, please Enjoy!

__________________________________

In a previous life…

If I could have one wish in this life… No matter the cost, I would only use it for her happiness

“This is for you, dear. This necklace protects our family, brings good luck!” My mother smiled as she placed the golden chains around my neck. “My own mother told me that it can even grant wishes! So keep it with you in Reterand.”

I played with the small sapphire amulet, my mood which had been down becoming slightly better. “But mother, I don’t know the crown prince very well, what if he isn’t a good man?”

I hadn’t been happy since my engagement had been announced. Reterand was a good kingdom, the western neighbor to my country Giral. Even though I was a princess, and I had always known that my marriage would be political in nature … I couldn’t pretend I was excited to marry the man I had only met once before. I had even heard he had been previously engaged, and had broken off the relationship for this alliance. What kind of marriage could this be?

My mother shrugged sadly. “It’s hard to say, dear. I hope your marriage will be happy.” She seemed to be looking past me, “Find joy in other things, so that your happiness is not dependent on him. “

“…” I hugged my mother silently, wondering not for the first time if she and my father were happy.

__________________________________

I was married into the Reterand royalty, and less than a year later his father had stepped down. I was the Queen of a foreign nation.

And I was very lonely.

My husband was a cold, calculating man. He was polite, never raising his voice to me, but there was a distance between us that couldn’t be crossed. It was painful, it was regretful, but I had always known this was a possibility. I tried to find happiness within other things as my mother had suggested and kept up a cordial façade. Despite the coldness in our marriage, we attended to our duties as monarchs. I quickly gave birth to an heir, a boy we named Ronan after the previous king. I had a husband, a child, a family… it should have been one of the happiest times in my life.

But it was at that time that the King broke all that remained of the good sentiment I had held towards him, by forbidding me from raising our son.

“You’re too weak.” His voice was chilling, forcing me to step back despite my panic. “You’ll drag him down. He will learn from me, and the rest can be taught by the tutors.”

“HE’S MY CHILD!” I was screaming, all thought of etiquette and calm long forgotten. “HOW CAN YOU KEEP ME FROM HIM?!”

His face didn’t change despite the rage I showed. “He’s a future king before that. You may see him once a week for tea, but that is all.”

I wish that I had left him then, sometimes. Broken ties and returned home to Giral. But I stayed, refusing to leave my child behind. Hoping the restrictions would be relaxed with time.

I could only stand off to the side and watch my son be raised by others. Fortunately he grew up healthy and happy, although he seemed a little reckless and arrogant sometimes, even for such a small child. I felt guilty. I was too weak to defend my position as a mother. And so life went on. I thought I had buried my heart, given up on those maternal feelings to protect myself.

But then I met that girl.

__________________________________

“This is my daughter, Lenora.” Seline, a beautiful but cold woman, pushed a young girl about four or five years old out in front of her. I was wary at their approach. I had long since learned that she had been my husband’s former fiancé, and had married the Duke of Armeny instead. I was worried she might be seeking revenge, but as I studied her closely I was surprised. There was intense dislike in her gaze, but no hatred. She even seemed willing to curry favor with me, curtsying deeper than required by her rank.

“She is the same age as your son, Ronan.” These sly words broke me from my reverie. I looked up to see her glancing over at her husband with a haughty expression, as if expecting praise and adoration for her words. I realized quickly why Seline hadn’t been focused on me… she was too obsessed with herself. She was obviously hoping to gain favor and pampering by making her daughter the future Queen.

What a selfish woman. I opened my mouth to reject the hidden offer in her words.

“Hello!” A quiet voice caught me off guard, and I turned to face the small girl standing before me.

She had pretty features, framed by light curls. Her face was brightened by her intelligent, expressive eyes and her wide grin. She reached into a pocket in her dress pulling out something and holding it up to me with a shy look.

“Is this for me?” I asked softly, unsure of how to react. She nodded and opened her fingers to reveal a small stone.

A rock?

Lenora looked up at me, scuffing one foot against the floor nervously. “The prettiest stone I could find in our garden. I was going to keep it by my bed but…” She paused and then smiled brightly. “I want you to have it, since you’re pretty too!”

I took the rock from her, taken aback at how relieved she seemed just by me accepting her gift. How did her parents normally treat her? “Thank you, Lenora, I will treasure it.”

“YAY! I’m so happy you like it!” The small form flung herself into my arms. As the girl hugged me tightly, I felt a huge shift in my heart, the kind that left a person completely changed, never to be the same again.

I loved this girl.

“We should discuss an engagement.” I smiled down at Lenora, not caring about how Seline responded. This girl would be my daughter-in-law in the future, my family. I would stay by her, love her, and help raise her.

__________________________________

“You did well!” I patted Lenora on the back, watching her sympathetically. It had been a particularly brutal etiquette lesson. Her mother had attended, a fortunately rare occurrence but one that never failed to cause problems. Seline had watched the lesson with an impatient expression, speaking critically to Lenora over and over until Mrs. Rendler was forced to end the lesson early. I had been late, only catching the last few minutes but even that was enough to break my heart.

“It’s okay, mother is right…” Lenora stared down at her feet. “I’m useless.”

I pulled her into my arms, hugging her, “YOU ARE NOT USELESS! You are a wonderful girl, and I am so proud to have such a smart and kind daughter.” I had long since dropped the “in-law” and simply called her my own child now. It wasn’t like her real mother was around enough to care. “Keep working hard, but don’t hurt yourself. You’re doing very well.”

“Really?” The quiet hope in her face was hard to see. She should be confident, she was skilled, intelligent, and beautiful… but she couldn’t see any of it. Her family ignored her or used her, and my son hadn’t paid enough attention to notice how wonderful the girl he was supposed to marry was. Between all of them, they had buried her in self-doubt, keeping my compliments from being truly meaningful to her.

“I love you, dear. One day I will convince you how amazing you are.”

Lenora smiled, although the expression was slightly sad. “I love you too, Your Majesty.”

I felt a slight pain in my chest at the address. I wanted her to call me mother. But Seline had told the girl to never ignore etiquette and she was afraid of her disapproval. One day, however, when she married Ronan, she would be able to call me that without censure.

I looked forward to it.

__________________________________

“I’m so worthless!”

The girl was sobbing uncontrollably on the floor in her room. It was her 16th birthday, what should be a happy occasion, but she was alone and sad once more. I felt another burst of irritation at that foolish son of mine. He was obviously the one who had tripped during the dance, but had blamed the fall on her! I decided to lecture him again, but I felt a stab of fear in my heart that he was too arrogant to listen.

I was no longer sure if I had chosen the right path forward. I wanted Lenora to be happy and yet… I couldn’t break the engagement now. Her reputation would be ruined. Her parents were doing their best to throw away their own wealth and dignity, and all the girl had to depend on was her status as future Queen. What would happen if that were taken away?

Ronan grow up soon, he’s still young. He can still be a reliable man, a good husband to Lenora.

Sighing, I sat down next to her on the ground and held her, one hand patting her back.

“I love you, and I always will. No matter what.” I didn’t know what else to say. After a long while she finally calmed down, and I smiled, helping her wipe away her tears. Thinking for a moment I retrieved the present I had planned on giving to her today, handing it over quietly.

The sapphire necklace, my family heirloom.

I took in her shocked face with glee. Lenora had seen this necklace as a young girl and had loved it, often asking to take it out and look at it. I had once thought to give it to her after she married Ronan, after she became my daughter-in-law, but had recently changed my mind. I no longer knew for certain what the future might hold, but I did know this: Lenora would always be my daughter, and therefore should have this necklace whether she married Ronan or not.

I hope it brings you happiness dear. If it does grant wishes, that is my only one. I didn’t say it out loud though, but kept in my heart a bright hope for what the future might bring.

__________________________________

“What did you say?” I grabbed the servant’s arm weakly, looking up at him with a horrified expression.

“I-I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” He stammered, looking terrified. “But Prince Ronan has already broken the engagement with Lady Lenora at his birthday party, and announced his engagement to another.”

“How could this…?” I groaned, a stabbing pain in my stomach making it difficult to think. I had become sick the night before my son’s birthday party, and had been bedridden for the past four or five days. I had only now been well enough to ask after Lenora, and was now shocked at what I had heard.

I had tried to bring them together. Trading my weekly tea time with Ronan to the King , I only asked in return that the prince would spend that with Lenora instead. I hoped that if he saw her and spoke with her more, he might learn how wonderful she was. It was a simple thought, perhaps a naïve one, but it was all I could do.

And now it was too late

The engagement had been broken five days ago. What had Lenora suffered in that time? I knew all too well how cruel the nobility could be. Having lost her status, with no one to protect her…

I needed to see her, now.

I was still weak, every muscle in my body screaming in pain as I pushed myself out of bed. The servants tried to stop me, protesting that I was too ill to travel, but I ignored them. Pushing my way out, I struggled to stay awake on the carriage ride over.

“Your Majesty.” A grim faced young woman, who I recognized as Lenora’s personal maid, met me at the gate.

“How is Lenora?” I pushed the words out, feeling nauseous from the carriage ride.

“She is… very upset.”

“I need to see her.” I shook my head to clear it, and started to walk forwards, only to be stopped by the maid.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” She looked regretful. “Miss gave very specific orders that she didn’t want to see you.”

“You must be mistaken.”

The lady’s maid didn’t seem too bothered by my irritated tone. She leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially “She’s very angry, I’m afraid. I overheard the Miss say that you reminded her of Prince Ronan, and seeing you would only cause her pain.”

She doesn’t want to see me? It didn’t seem right. I wished I were more clear-headed, but the illness still had a strong grip on me. Barely able to move, I returned to my carriage and my rooms, feeling heartbroken.

__________________________________

It took weeks for me to fully recover. During that time I sent countless letters to Lenora. But they were never answered. I tried a few more times to visit, but was rejected at the gate by her maid each time. I missed her dearly, worried for her constantly, but still she avoided me.

The Duchy of Armeny was buried in debt. I was forbidden from interfering, but in return I was guaranteed that Lenora and her parents would be allowed a small place to live. At least she wouldn’t be out on the streets. I tried again to contact her before she left, but my letter was ignored as always.

I was alone, so lonely that the feeling seemed to carve itself deeper into my heart, taking over my soul. Trying to comfort myself, I tried to feel reassured that Lenora would be okay, even if she didn’t have me by her side.

Your daughter is smart and resourceful. Even if she hates you, even if she doesn’t want your help, she will find her own way.

Even if it took some time for her to heal, I would be patient. I would see her again. We could be together again. I just needed to wait a little longer.

She just needed a little more time.

__________________________________

“Lenora’s dead.”

Edith, my son’s new fiancé, gave me the news with a casual smile. I stared back at her, the words rang in my head, repeating over and over until they became nonsensical sounds.

Dead? It didn’t make any sense. Lenora couldn’t be dead. She was a perfectly healthy girl, with a long life ahead of her.

“They found her body this morning.” She continued talking, but I couldn’t hear her. My ears were ringing, darkness closing in around me. I felt two servants grab my arms, trying to support me, but I could only hang helplessly against them.

“Lenora’s dead?” The words sounded wrong as soon as I spoke them. She couldn’t be dead. My daughter, my beloved girl… gone forever? I shook my head, but the dizziness grew worse. I heard horrifying screams of agony, barely recognizing that they were coming from my own throat.

“Lenora.” I tried to call out her name, but even that sound was taken from me as everything faded into darkness.

__________________________________

My world closed around me that day.

I kept to my rooms, sitting at my window. I barred all from my presence other than the butler Hallers. At first I meant to drive him out as well, but seeing the pain and grief in his eyes, and realizing that he had known Lenora as well, I let him stay and serve me. He forced me to eat and drink, keeping me alive when I might have otherwise faded into shadows.

I couldn’t move on. I was crippled with guilt. If only I hadn’t engaged Lenora to my son, setting her up for this fall. If only I had raised my son into a man who wouldn’t toss her away so cruelly, leaving her vulnerable. If only I hadn’t been sick that day, and could have protected her. If only I had insisted on seeing her, no matter how much she hated me and tried to keep me away. If only I had forced my way in, broken down her front door even, and protected her.

If only, if only, if only…

Time passed, but I remained unaware. I ignored all requests from my husband to come out of mourning. That girl Edith came by multiple times, trying to curry favor, but I refused to see her. I couldn’t forget how she smiled the day she told me Lenora was dead. Even if I were to leave my rooms, I planned to avoid her.

Then I fell ill. I had been sick multiple times since I had secluded myself away, always small illnesses that could be resolved with a few medicines and rest, but this time…

I was dying.

I stayed in my bed, a blood stained handkerchief clutched in a weakened hand. At first I had only noticed small drops of blood in what I had coughed up, but it grew worse with each passing hour. There should have been a doctor called, but no one came even as I weakened.

“Hello Mother.”

Edith walked in with an odd smile. I tried to sit up but fell back, too weak to complete the motion, and so glared at her instead.

“I’m not your mother.”

“Really?” she didn’t seem put off by my cold tone, in fact, she smiled and brought up a chair to sit by my bed. “Didn’t you once want Lenora to call you that? Now that I’m your daughter-in-law, shouldn’t I be the one to call you that instead?”

I felt an odd sense of panic. “Don’t speak her name.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Your Majesty, as she is the reason I came here today.” She tossed an object onto my lap, and with a shock I recognized it. The sapphire necklace. The family heirloom I had given to Lenora. When I had Hallers investigate to confirm her death, he had reported that it was thought to be stolen at that time. So how was it here?

“Lenora sold it for a loaf of bread just recently.” Edith laughed, the sound odd and distorted. “She had held onto right until the end, you know? I thought she would have broken long before that.”

“Lenora…” I stared at the jewelry in my hand, a brief hope flaring within me. “She’s alive…?”

“Not anymore.” Edith laughed as my expression fell, my heart breaking once again within my chest. “She died this morning, of starvation. I saw her body myself before having them throw it into the forest to be food for the animals.”

“This morning…?” My head was spinning, it was difficult to think straight. “But she died a long time ago…”

“Oh, that was a lie. I tricked you with another girl’s corpse. She’s been lost and alone without friends and family for over a year now.”

Her voice was calm, as if discussing the weather, but the unnatural light of excitement in her gaze gave her true feelings away.

“I convinced her that you abandoned her, despised her. Lenora had always held onto the hope that you still cared about her, but even that was eventually broken into pieces.” She laughed again, and I flinched, filled with horror at her words.

Lenora had been living all this time. Starving. Thinking that I despised her.

It was too painful to bear. I gripped the necklace tightly, my thinned skin tearing against the hard edge of the amulet, bright red blood staining my palm and the jewelry alike.

“Why?” I could barely force out a whisper. I felt even weaker, as if my spirit was breaking along side my body, any will I had to move forward drained from me.

“Because she was a thief who took my place.” Her smile was terrifying, filled with madness. “I was meant to be the Duke’s beloved daughter. I should have been pampered and loved! I was supposed to be engaged to your son and you were supposed to love ME!”

She was shouting at the end, the chair she had been sitting on kicked to the floor as she leaned over me. “But you refused to even look at me after your precious Lenora was gone! I gave you so many chances, but you threw them all away!”

She drew closer, whispering in my ear. “That’s why it’s too late now. I’ve already poisoned you. So you can go join your useless daughter, just like you wanted. But just remember: if you had been smart enough to recognize that she was a fraud, that she had only stolen what belonged to me… you would have lived a long and happy life.”

Edith stepped back, a look of vicious satisfaction on her face. I stared up at her, finding it hard to breathe through the pain, but still forcing a smile, surprising her.

“My only regret in this life is that I didn’t love my daughter more, that I didn’t protect her better. As for you… you mean nothing to me.”

“...” A long silence fell between us.

“Fine.” She spat out the word like a curse. “Die like a fool.” With that she was gone.

I turned on my side, the movement agonizing. Tears filled my eyes, tracking down my cheeks, soaking my disheveled hair and the pillow beneath my head. In my hands I clutched the bloody necklace, holding it tightly to my chest.

“Lenora.” The name came out of my lips as a hoarse whisper.

I had hoped this necklace would bring her happiness, but instead she died alone and miserable.

“I’m... sorry.

I wanted to see her grow up happy and healthy, surrounded by friends and family.

“I wish….”

If I could have one wish in this lifetime, no matter the cost…

“You had another chance.”

I would only use it for her happiness.

“Lenora... please be happy next time.”

As the world faded into darkness around me, the last thing I saw was the blue jewel in my hand glowing with a brilliant red light.

__________________________________

In another life…

“GRANDMA!” I woke up, startled by the loud shout and a small form jumping on me.

It was a young boy, with bright mischievous eyes and dark curls, looking up at me with a grin.

“What is it, sweetie?” I reached out and hugged my grandson, feeling a sense of warmth in my heart.

He looked around at my question, as if looking to see if anyone else was listening in, turning back to whisper. “There’s going to be a party today!”

“A party?” I raised an eyebrow. “Is this a surprise party for my birthday?” He nodded enthusiastically and laughing, I hugged him tighter.

“Are you excited, Grandma?”

“Very. But we should probably pretend I don’t know anything about it.” He looked confused, but before I could explain the concept of “surprise party” another voice called out.

“Thomas, I told you not to bother grandmother before…” Aimee, her graceful movements showing the results of her etiquette training, halted in surprise, stopping mid-sentence. She looked between us, obviously not wanting to ruin the surprise party, unaware that her little brother already had.

“It’s alright, Aimee, I already know.” I reached out to hug her as well, enjoying having both children in my arms.

“Can you pretend to be surprised for mother?” She asked carefully, her eyes concerned. “She’s been planning this for weeks and I don’t want her to be sad.”

What a thoughtful child.

Feeling proud, I patted her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll be surprised.”

“Thank you.” Standing up and straightening her gown, she held out a hand to help me up. “Then let’s head in, Mother sent me to bring you to the party.”

Holding the two children’s hands, I walked towards the small ballroom where Aimee had said the party was to take place. Aimee opened the door for me, and as I stepped in a group of people stepped forward, shouting:

“SURPRISE!”

I pretended to be shocked, winking at Aimee. “Oh goodness!”

Lenora, looking more of a Queen than I ever had in a dark purple gown with gold trim, reached out to hug me. “Happy birthday, Mother.”

I felt a sting in my eyes as I blinked back tears. “Thank you, dear.”

The rest of the group crowded around with a cheer. Hallers smiled kindly at me before turning away to organize the servants to serve food and drinks. Rig clapped me on the back, almost knocking me over, and then grabbed Thomas to throw him up in the air to his delighted shrieks. Erica and Marile both came forward to greet me, happily showing off the gown they had designed for me to wear later that night at the formal gathering. Henry and Raewynn dragged in an enormous potted plant, all the while arguing on the best care for the species before promising to send me a set of written instructions.

Finally Nate stepped closer, dressed in his formal court robes, the awe-inspiring effect ruined by the small infant he held against his shoulder which had already spit up on him. Grinning foolishly, he grabbed a cloth to clean up the baby girl, holding her out to me after he was finished.

“Elise wanted to say happy birthday to her grandmother too.” He kissed my cheek as he handed me my grandchild, standing beside Lenora and naturally placing an arm around her.

The wide-eyed baby, now in my arms, laughed happily and blew spit bubbles, making me grin.

“Were you really surprised, Mother? “ Lenora looked suspicious as she glanced at her two older children, who suddenly appeared guilty.

I couldn’t abandon my grandchildren, so I lied immediately. “O-of course!”

“…” Lenora stared silently for a few moments, before letting out a long sigh. “Sure.”

Nate drew her closer, and kissed her. “As long she’s happy, then your party was a success.”

Seeing her cheered up by such a simple statement, I once again felt grateful that Lenora was married to a man like Nate, who cared for her so much. They smiled at each other, the love they felt evident in their eyes, briefly seeming to forget about everyone else in the room. Playing with Elise, I waited patiently for them to finish. It took some time, but finally she turned back to me, and the room’s light reflected against the blue gem hanging around her neck.

Noticing the familiar blue necklace, I looked closer, slightly confused. “Lenora, you didn’t change the gem did you?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s the same as when you gave it to me.”

I reached out with my free hand, still holding my granddaughter in the other, and lifted the jewel to look closer. “It looks slightly different.”

Perhaps it was the lighting, but the normally pure blue gem seemed to have a faint red glow within it. As I watched it seemed to flare outwards slightly before fading away, leaving a pure blue color once more. I stared at it for a few more moments, but it didn’t change again. Finally I let it down and stepped away from her, wondering if I had imagined it. “Do you remember what I told you when I gave it to you?”

“That it would bring me happiness?” Lenora grinned.

“Are you happy?”

She glanced around the room at my question, and I did too. Everyone here was a part of the family Lenora had gathered. People she cared about, who loved her dearly in return. She reached out, taking Elise and handing it to her husband, before pulling me into a tight hug.

“I’m very happy, Mother.”

I grinned, tears spilling over and soaking into the shoulder of her gown as I held her close. “Good. I love you, Lenora.”

She smiled at that, a pure expression no longer plagued by doubt or fear of caring for others, and answered without hesitation.

“I love you too, Mother.”

I thought of the life Lenora had once told me about. The one she had lived before this. Where she had died alone, betrayed, despairing. I couldn’t help but wonder about the me that had lived in that lifetime. Had I loved her then as much as I did now?

I thought I might have. After all:

If I could have one wish in this life… No matter the cost, I would only use it for her happiness.

I couldn’t help but wonder if in that life I had done just that. Stepping back, I looked at the necklace once more, and sighed. Lenora had grown up well, surrounded by friends and family who loved her. She was happy, and was creating her own future hand in hand with those she loved. It was everything I had ever hoped for and more

My wish, both in this lifetime and the last, had come true.

#writing #i can't eat love #side part #the queen #last part ever #ahh #i feel really sad that it's over #thanks to everyone who followed along with the series!

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darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts · 5 years

Text

The Set-Up

@yunohawkeye

Mitsunari/historical/17/fluff

#17: Moves like Jagger – Maroon 5

Warning: slightly fluffy, slightly “spicy” Cream puff warlord

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The Set-Up

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It was nearly a full year after they had decided to stay in the past and almost 6 months into one of the most tooth-achingly sweetest relationships they had ever had. There had only been one slight hiccup in this newfound bliss. Their beautifully oblivious, accidental flirt of a cream puff for a boyfriend could be great in the futon but lately, it was like the thought didn’t enter their mind.

Looking back it had been quite the shocking development to realise that the little book worm could have such talent with their ability to please in a bedroom. It was obvious he was lacking in experience but his desire to learn and perform for their partner's pleasure was mind-numbingly endearing as much as it also caused their heart to race.

Lost in their little daydream the Oda favourite failed to notice the small group of men gathered in the shadows of the castle wall. They all looked fondly at the Princess hanging out the sheets on the bamboo lines.

“Its been nearly a year hasn’t it?” Masa was the first to speak in the group.

“Yes. And our little love birds have been together for some time now as well.” Mitsuhide chuckled wryly. They had all had a slightly bitter moment in their own way seeing the couple come together but none of them wished anything but happiness for them after seeing how the Princess sparkled with the strategist.

“Have there been any other developments on that front?” Masa turned to address the man in the know. Who had been trying to tell them off for spying only to fall into the same lure as the rest and doing the same thing alongside them.

“Not that I’m aware of.” Hideyoshi answered with a soft expression as he watched the Princess feed the bamboo pole through the sleeves of some yukata.

“Mitsunari lives in your manor how can you not know?” Ieyasu fixed a rather unimpressed glare on the resident busy body.

“Some of us keep out of private matters.” Hideyoshi defended his lack of knowledge whilst turning his eyes rather pointedly in the direction of Mitsuhide.

“Since when have you ever kept out of private matters? Just the other day you were lecturing me on the correct use of a sword and telling Ieyasu that he should watch his step when out gathering herbs.” Masa practically barked with laughter.

“Well, it was really muddy. And you shouldn’t use your sword to trim trees in the garden.”

“I wasn’t trimming it I was getting some apples.” Masa huffed indignantly.

“You can do that without being so dangerous.”

“Quite right Hideyoshi. Might I suggest Masa climb the trees balancing a basket on his head?” Mitsuhide gave an impromptu mime of balancing a basket on his own head which made Ieyasu laugh despite himself.

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Still it has been a while huh? Should we have a party?” Masa quickly changed the subject back to the matter at hand.

“I’m sure Lord Nobunaga would approve. A party to commemorate the arrival of MC” Hideyoshi nodded firmly thinking that it wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Do you think they look alright though?” Ieyasu’s question was so faint it was like he was talking to himself.

“What do you mean?”

“The little kitten looks a little distracted.” Masa pointed out the strained expression on the Princess.

“Now you mention it. There does seem to be something off about them.” Hideyoshi’s face changed into a concerned frown.

“Tell us Hideyoshi in all the times you are ‘not’ involving yourself in the private life of your retainers did you ever notice when the last visit from the Princess was to Mitsunari?” Mitsuhide enquired. He had noticed the tense movements in the chatelaine long before the others had.

“MC comes by almost every day with deliveries.”

“Oh dear. I fear it is not only the retainer that can be oblivious.” Mitsuhide gave a mocking shake of his head whilst dramatically sighing.

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean the last time the Princess spent the night.”

“I…” Hideyoshi lost his words somewhere along the way to give a reply. He was a little embarrassed but more than that he had suddenly realised it had been a good couple of weeks before such an event had happened.

“Well, that won’t do. Where is the lad?”

“Knowing that cabbage for brains he’ll be reading somewhere.”

“Then gentlemen I think a little strategy meeting is in order.” Mitsuhide grinned ferally. A look that was mimicked by Masa and clashed wildly with the grimacing curt expression on Ieyasu’s face.

It had been a while since he had received new books and these recent copies were truly fascinating. The crispness of the paper ran under his fingertips like a flowing stream as he turned page after page losing all concept of time and the world around him. The last page finally finished he ruminated on the words letting them sink in before he closed the book and glanced up.

Kitty was curled up on a stack of papers that had fallen over at some point nearby and the low table near him had new items placed on it that he couldn’t remember from before. Neatly packed rice balls, now cold tea, some missives from the castle and what looked like a bundle of neatly folding clothes. He blinked a few times in surprise before removing his glasses and looking out the window. The sun was setting, had he lost one day or two? Maybe it had been longer.

“Kitty was MC here?”

The small grey feline lazily looked at him before curling up tighter into a ball and going back to sleep. A knock on his door announced a visitor and he rose to his feet to see who it was, hoping just a little that it was his Princess.

“Welcome ba-, Oh! Lord Hideyoshi… and Lord Masamune. Was there something you needed?” Mitsunari looked at the two men with childlike innocence causing whatever frustrations the visiting men had to grow due to Mitsunari’s apparent disregard for all things involving self-care.

“Mitsunari don’t tell me you have spent this entire time reading and not even been out for a bit of fresh air.”

“I’m sorry…” Accepting his fate Mitsunari hung his head at Hideyoshi’s critical words.

“Never mind that right now. Mitsunari we need to talk to you Lad.” Masa sidled up to Mitsunari’s side clamping a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Of course, if there is anything I can help you with…” Mitsunari’s eyes glittered at the prospect of being useful in some way.

“It’s not us that needs the help.”

“Lord Ieyasu, you came here too? How wonderful!” Now beaming a dazzling smile at the arrival of the resident contrarian Mitsunari was completely back to his normal self. No one would believe that moments ago he was practically an automated statue.

“I’m not here because I want to be. I’m here because someone is doing a fantastically poor job of keeping a rather annoying woman smiling.” Ieyasu huffed his brow knitting tighter as if fighting off the brightness before him.

“Oh? Well if you need some advice that I –”

“Shut up you dolt and just let us in already and listen to us!”

“Mitsuhide I really don’t see why I had to come here. You said it was an important meeting.” MC had found herself cornered in the kitchen by the Kitsune and whisked away just as quickly. Now dressed in a new kimono and her hair styled by the wily warlord himself she was standing on a gravel pathway looking at a very small residence that looked to be a secluded inn.

“It is precisely because it is a very important meeting that you had to attend my dear. No one but you could do it.” Mitsuhide gave her a small nudge forward causing her feet to shuffle on even if her mind was telling her this whole thing felt like a set up somehow. Was it bad to jump to conclusions where this warlord was concerned? He would probably laugh and tell her she had a keener sense of survival than he thought.

“Fine but I don’t think I’ll be very helpful. I know nothing of negotiations for things.”

“Trust me little mouse. You will be fine.” Something felt off about his voice and when MC turned to look for him she realised Mitsuhide was long gone.

“Mitsu—”

“MC?”

“—Nari.” Catching her off guard before finishing calling the other man’s name felt like something from a manga. MC chuckled after realising this which confused Mitsunari but he let it go because it felt like it had been a very long time since he had seen her laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“I came here to see you.”

“But I was told this was a meeting that was very… Mitsuhide you sly old fox!” MC cursed the warlord under her breath. He could have just told her she was coming here to see her boyfriend rather than let her spend the last half hour worrying she was to upset a local daimyo and cause an accidental border dispute.

“Is something the matter?” Mitsunari came closer out of concern and took her hand in his. Rubbing the back of it with his fingers.

“No, I—” Her eyes meet his. The deep violet of them felt bewitching somehow tonight as she lost track of her own speech and fell silent.

“MC…” In a move that felt calculated in its efficiency, Mitsunari stepped smoothly forward blocking her lips with his. It was familiar, loving and after all this time felt strangely nostalgic.

He changed angles and adjusted the time for each kiss. Some were longer than others some were soft and fleeting but each one took her breath away as he returned for more. Frustration from his previous lack of interest had taken its toll and in a simultaneous display of remnants of restraint snapping, they both began to hungrily seek out each other’s tongues.

He was here. His scent of books, ink and parchment. The flavour of him, rice and tea… all of it took over in her mind as his hands roamed over her figure as if she was a favourite story he was enjoying once more. A sudden cry from a bird brought back the knowledge of where they were standing and MC reluctantly pulled away creating distance between them.

“MC?” Mitsunari looked at her with hooded eyes and an expression of a rather upset puppy.

“Nari. I’m sorry but we can’t do this here.”

Realising what she meant he nodded in agreement. He had no desire to upset her now, he only ever wanted her to be happy and if she wanted to draw the line here he would respect that and deal with it. He couldn’t deny that it felt like his heart was flip-flopping around like a fish out of water but he swore to himself he’d behave and respect his lover’s wishes.

“Of course. I apologise. It has been a while and I’m sorry I didn’t think sooner about the fact that you might now not --”

“Ah! No stop. You have the wrong idea completely.” MC grabbed his face in her hands and made him look at her. It was true it was the Sengoku and it wasn’t like things like this didn’t happen but she had never meant for it to be the end of their night. The phrase ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’, sprung to mind as she remembered the Inn and took Mitsunari’s hand dragging him behind her as she walked towards it.

The room was small but none of that mattered. In the same way, the complimentary meal and sake sat on their trays by the door completely ignored by the couple. Almost as soon as the door had closed behind them their movements had become a blur as limps and extremities entangled and then disengaged only to clash once more.

Stars dotted the sky outside the window. MC lay in the warm embrace of her partner as he drew lines and circles over her exposed skin attempting to catch his breath in the same way she was. For all the time apart, the lack of connection they had had followed by this. Had her feeling kind of drunk.

“Why are you so good to me?” Her honest thoughts voiced themselves as she remained lost in that euphoric state.

“I love you. And I know you… I plan to know you a lot more if you would let me.” Mitsunari shifted in the futon his eyes dark and his childlike features were gone, replaced instead by that of a red-blooded man and it made her heart leap. He was different tonight and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how or why. The only thing she knew was she didn’t care.

MC was sound asleep in bed by the time they had stopped. He ran his fingers through her hair committing every detail of tonight to memory so he could remember it later. He also made a note to thank the other warlords for setting up this chance for them to be together like this. He had never thought of taking time off before but he knew that if it would make his Princess smile like this, he would consider doing so in the future more often.

---

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tytodreams · 6 years

Text

cleanup (g)

Good characterization? I don’t know her. Anyways, here’s a (semi) Justice League drabble I wrote this week while trying to get back into writing. I know the pacing is a little weird, but since it’s from Barry’s perspective I tried to really focus on how he interprets time, you know? So, this whole thing is way too drawn out and detailed for its own good. And yes, I know the dialogue is extremely and painfully awkward, but I promise, I’m working on it. Like I said before, I haven’t written anything in forever. In the meantime, I hope this is at least a little enjoyable. It’s a battle cleanup story. That’s it. Also, I don’t know anything about science so there’s probably a lot of errors concerning physics and stuff in here, but whatever.

He had been underwater for nearly six seconds before it occurred to Barry that he might be drowning.

He certainly hadn’t jumped into the ocean of his own free will ― that decision had been made for him when Gorilla Grodd snagged him by the ankle and tossed him in. Too disoriented to tap into the Speed Force, Barry had cartwheeled directly into the nearest body of water.

And, while that wasn’t really the best place for him to be at the moment, he was grateful that he’d fallen into a liquid substance. If Grodd had thrown him into the side of a wall instead, Barry figured that the outcome wouldn’t have been as pleasant.

Grimacing, he struggled to keep his eyes open underwater. Though Barry had never been a very strong swimmer, he wasn’t a poor one either. But, as it turned out, trying to regain your bearings and tread water at the same time could be surprisingly difficult. The destructive sounds of battle over on the mainland didn’t exactly help either.

Luckily, Barry managed to get his head above water, and, after sucking in a deep breath of air, managed to tap into the Speed Force just enough to vibrate. Pulling his legs up close against his body, he shoved himself back down underwater and immediately hit the ocean floor. The moment his feet touched solid ground, Barry tensed every muscle he had and then promptly rocketed back up to the surface.

For half a second or two, Barry could feel the water boil around him in response to the sheer amount of kinetic energy coming from his body. It was a funny sensation, and the tips of his fingers and toes buzzed when he hit the air again.

Taking in another large gulp of oxygen, Barry relaxed his body a bit and slipped further out of relative time. On the rocky shoreline in front of him, he could see several other members of the Justice League facing off against an unlikely cluster of baddies. Black Canary and Green Arrow were rather effectively tag-teaming the Storm King while Wonder Woman had shoved Giganta up into a corner just several feet away. Martian Manhunter was sparring with Silver Swan over on a precipice nearby while Angle Man laid unconscious and bound to a rock on their left.

The green rope constructs around Angle Man’s body made it clear enough who had strapped him there. And, as if on cue, Barry watched Green Lantern make a divebomb headed directly for Gorilla Grodd. It was an interesting sight to see in slow motion. The way the blazing, almost fiery green light coalesced around Hal’s body; intense and flaring with unbound energy. The gritted look of determination on Grodd’s face and the tightness in his muscles as he stretched his massive arms out towards the oncoming emerald bullet.

Snapping out of his reverie, Barry darted forward, fist pulled back for a punch. When his supersonic right hook finally rocketed into the unsuspecting ape’s view, he and Hal had already managed to strike Grodd at the exact same moment. Barry smirked a little to himself, pleased that his calculations had been correct.

Grodd let out a horrific bellowing noise as he stumbled to and fro ― rammed on both sides by the Flash and Green Lantern. His legs gave out beneath him, and the giant gorilla crumbled backwards into shallow water. Hitting the ocean floor with a resounding thud, the beast let out a long, pitiful groan before finally falling silent.

Barry skidded to a halt on top of a large rock near Grodd. He was still uncomfortably wet and dripping in his suit, but that was the last thing on his mind right now. The excitement from running and his victory over Grodd was still buzzing through his system like a sudden shot of serotonin.

A couple of seconds later and Hal touched down gently beside him. Barry turned to look at his friend. The Lantern had dimmed the light around himself to little more than a soft glow, making his features more visible to others.

A sly grin was stretched across Hal’s face. His mask-whited eyes were narrowed in glee and he started chuckling. Barry managed to catch a glimpse of that particular canine he had ― the one that was chipped and slightly crooked.

“Nice job, bro,” Hal’s arms were crossed casually over his chest, “You had me worried there for a sec ― when that monkey tossed you into the sea ― but you pulled through. I knew you’d pull through.”

Barry smiled back at him, the tension leaving his shoulders at the sound of Hal’s laughter, “Thanks, Lantern. And thanks for having my back when Grodd tried to see if I could swim.” He wasn’t sure if that sounded as cool as he had intended it to, but Barry kept smiling and hoped for the best.

It must have worked, because Hal slapped a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, “Don’t worry about it, Swifty.” He glanced smugly over at Grodd’s broken form in the water before shooting another look toward their comrades. Barry craned his head with him to see that Ollie and Dinah had successfully tied Storm King up next to Angle Man and were waiting, hands on hips, as Diana dragged a clearly concussed Giganta over to them.

“Looks like the party’s just about over,” Hal gave Barry’s shoulder a playful shove before kicking off in the direction of their fellow Leaguers.

Still standing on the rock, Barry gazed blankly after his friend, looking more like a statue than a speedster. Then he blinked twice and stared down at his body as though suddenly realizing that he was soaking wet. Now that the adrenaline rush was fading, it seemed that the unpleasant squelch of suit over skin was becoming noticeable.

However, Barry was pushed quickly back into reality by the booming sound of rocks smashing together. He tilted his head upward to watch as J’onn slammed Silver Swan against the side of a rock face. The winged super-villainess promptly went limp and slid down to collapse on the shore.

Well, that settled it then. The party was over.

Hal was moving lazily in the air around Dinah and Ollie, chatting with them as Diana tried to yank three of the fallen villains together in a dogpile. She was in the middle of dragging Silver Swan toward the other two when J’onn walked calmly over to where Grodd lay, half-submerged in water, and picked him up with a flex of his telekinetic powers.

After he’d taken the sight in, Barry closed his eyes and gave himself a moment to breathe. Satisfied with his surroundings when he’d opened them again, he shot forward off the rock and then whipped around to stop beside his comrades; bright and dimpled smile on his face.

“Great work out there, everyone,” Barry beamed to Dinah and Diana, even offering Ollie a bit of attention when it came to his compliment.

Hands on her hips and hair still falling loosely across her face, Dinah grinned back, “Aw, thanks Flash. You did wonderfully yourself.” There was a genuine sweetness in her voice that made Ollie roll his eyes ― and made her have to elbow him in response.

“Well,” Diana interrupted, striding toward them, “I’d like to thank all of you for coming here on such short notice. As you can certainly tell, this was......not expected.” She turned to look over her shoulder at the five dogpiled villains with a grimace and a sigh.

“No problem,” though he was still a tad damp, Barry was in an awfully chipper mood, “Besides, Grodd is usually my issue. I bet I’d have to deal with him somehow today anyways.”

Before Diana could respond, Ollie had stepped forward, arms crossed, and chin lifted, “Really, it’s our pleasure, Diana. There’s nothing better than putting a baddie in their place.” His grin looked almost gaudy when he spoke and the general smugness on his face made Barry’s own smile drop into a twisted frown.

There had always been something about Ollie’s pride that rubbed him the wrong way. And for some reason, it had always felt distinctly different from Hal’s. When Barry really tried to think about it, he guessed that it must be the arrogance. To him, Hal never felt arrogant when he bragged, merely confident. But Oliver? To Barry, Oliver was arrogance personified.

As for Diana, she had quirked an eyebrow at the archer’s little display ― clearly struggling to hide a smirk. Standing on Oliver’s right, it had become Dinah’s turn to roll her eyes; an expression mimicked by Hal as he floated idly in the air beside her.

When she also shook her head, the Lantern merely snorted. Then, diverting attention away from Ollie, he shot upwards in a short burst of energy and called out to their Martian friend nearby, “Hey, J’onn! We’re about to drag these dumbasses in! You comin’?”

J’onn was busy fiddling with some sort of object that Barry guessed to be a scanner, and nearly started in surprise when Hal yelled over to him. Seeing that the Martian was so rarely caught off guard, Barry found the wideness in his eyes to be very amusing.

“Yes,” J’onn responded lowly. He headed over to his teammates, still throwing an occasional glance down at the scanner, “My apologies. I had informed the Batman of our success here and when I checked the area again, I thought I saw something troubling.”

A spark of electricity zipped down Barry’s spine at the word ‘troubling’. Diana’s face had hardened in a matter of seconds, “Troubling? Do you think there might be more suspicious activity going on here?”

Stopping roughly a foot away from Dinah and Ollie, who had already fallen back into battle stances, J’onn paused and shook his head, “No. I believe there’s a malfunction in the scanner.” He presented the screen to Barry and Diana, “It keeps flashing every time I point it at the ocean.” He gestured to a large rock nearby, “Or that particular rock.” Then J’onn lazily swiped his hand toward Hal, “Or Green Lantern.”

“Yeah,” Barry winced, laughing nervously, “It’s definitely broken.”

“Or Hal and that rock are serious threats,” Ollie suggested, flashing his green-clad friend with a full-toothed, teasing grin. Hal scowled in response and flew around him in a half-circle, purposely jostling his quiver, “If I’m a threat to American security than Bats is a drama queen with daddy issues.”

“Batman is a drama queen with daddy issues,” Dinah retorted, “And you are a threat to American security, Mr. Jordan.”

Hal replied with a shrug and a general air of nonchalance, “Yeah. But, like, not a major threat or anything. Just a little property damage. Y’know. No big deal.”

Diana frowned, “How much property damage?” Barry couldn’t tell if she was amused and merely curious, or if Hal was about to get a phone call and a possible death threat from Bruce about being an irresponsible blockhead.

As if sensing the possibility of the latter, Hal drifted slowly away from the others, muttering, “.......a little. Not a lot, really. Only, like, half of Los Angeles.......” Immediately jumping away from the subject, he turned to look at Barry instead, “Hey, Bear! We’re in Alaska, aren’t we? Why don’t we go hang out in the woods and see some deer and shit?”

Barry smiled weakly in reply, “That’d be great, Hal, but I think I should lock up Grodd and the others first.”

“Precisely what I was thinking,” Diana added, “In fact, Green Lantern, why don’t you make a construct for us to carry them all in? Black Canary and Green Arrow might be able to sling Silver Swan or Angle Man over their shoulders, but I don’t believe they could do the same for Storm King too......or Giganta........or Grodd.”

The way that Hal’s face fell at the very exact moment that Dinah’s face lit up in a wide smirk was truly astounding to watch, and Barry figured that it might as well be a work of art.

“Oh, sorry, Hallie,” Dinah was batting her lashes up at him, “But Diana’s right. Ollie and I can’t lift things like you can. Besides, we’re all so tuckered out.”

Shooting a glare back at her, Hal grunted and swerved to land over beside the five unconscious villains all strewn together. Barry bit back his own grin at the childish pout Hal was sporting as he muttered a, “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” in response. An expanse of green light burst from the other man’s ring, engulfing the tied-up criminals and forming a basket around them.

“Angle Man? Hell, Storm King?” Hal grumbled in disbelief, “Who even heard of these D-listers?”

A quick glance over to J’onn, and Barry could tell that the Martian was enjoying this just as much as everyone else.

Diana’s arms were crossed over her chest, “To Belle Reve, please. They’ve made some adjustments lately to accommodate larger inmates with less hassle.”

“But that’s all the way in Louisiana!” Hal sputtered.

“And you can fly.” The deadpan voice and eerie smile on Diana’s face ended any form of argument then and there.

Averting his eyes, Hal mumbled something too quiet for Barry to here before lifting off and taking the villains in the green basket with him. Ollie, one hand on his hip and the other waving in the air, yelled up to him, “Good luck, buddy!”

“Thanks!” Hal shouted back, sounding so petulant that Barry would have given anything to see his face when he said it.

Roughly three minutes later and Hal had finally disappeared over the horizon, headed far south. Dinah was the first to break the silence, “What a brat.”

“Yeah,” Barry sighed, “But he’s our brat.”

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angryhausfrau-writes · 3 years

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You Can’t Cross the Same River Twice - Chapter 9

Their little corner of Boston has become something of a way station for various East Coast members of the 4077. And perhaps it makes sense - Hawkeye Pierce, degenerate though he is, has always been the heart and soul of the MASH. Even as changed as he'd been at the end of the war, he'd spent every breath taking care of the people there. Charles had been so wrapped up in his own petty little problems - his appointment at Boston Mercy, his squabbles with Margaret - that he hadn't really appreciated it at the time. But now, with the clarity of distance - and the help of, ugh, a psychiatrist - he can admit to himself - if no one else - that Pierce is a large part of why he came out of the war as well adjusted as he had.

Pierce is also why he's able to return to civilian life so easily. For all that Charles has been raised - been bred with the very fortitude and inclination required - to head a prestigious department at the preeminent hospital in the United States - if not the world - it has been a.. transition.. to return to his old life. Honoria is just as sweet and wonderful and mischievous as ever - and Charles makes a note that she and Pierce must never meet, lest society as he knows it crumble - but mother and father are perhaps more aloof and distant than he remembers. Concerned more with how he goes on to represent the family - as he is now several years behind schedule in running thoracic at Boston Mercy and, more importantly, at finding a suitable Mrs. Charles Emerson Winchester III and providing the requisite Charles Emerson Winchester IV - than with how he, Charles, is faring. He finds himself missing the camaraderie of the MASH unit - as stifling as it had been at the time. But now that much of his social obligation requires talking politics with the interminable stuffed shirts at his club or dancing with icy, calculating debutantes - stiffly formal beneath a veneer of feminine charm, sizing Charles, and more importantly, the Winchester fortune, up against their ambitions - Charles finds himself living for the evenings of raucous, lower-class fun with the other remnants of the Korean war.

Even that lout McIntyre.

Because, despite all his deficiencies, he's a good surgeon - and an Ivy Leaguer, even if he schooled in the wilds of New Hampshire rather than the beacon of civilization that is Boston. He, Charles has found, also has a surprisingly sly sense of humor hidden behind that bluff, working-man exterior. He helps balance out Pierce's more.. fanciful nature. And living with McIntyre seems to be doing Pierce a world of good. He's back to telling jokes and stories at a mile a minute, but he also listens to other people's stories for more than just material with which to make a snappy retort. Pierce is also missing the desperate, manic edge he'd acquired towards the end of the war. He's more stable, more settled in his skin with McIntyre's hand clapped on his shoulder.

All of this makes Charles wish he had someone in his life who could understand him so well as Pierce and McIntyre seem to understand each other - bound as they are by a brotherhood forged in war. Charles wishes for someone who could stand as his equal - know him and be known. He feels so distant from the class of people he left behind. In the face of war, why worry about petty posturing - particularly when he is so obviously superior to the rest of the muck and mud surrounding him. But here, presentation is all that matters. The facade becomes the foundation for one's entire existence. And there are tens of others with the same - or at least similar - breeding and wealth and status. How is he to find someone who is both suitable to his family and satisfactory to himself? It makes Charles long for the hours he spends at that quaint little pub with the other flotsam and jetsam of Korea. And it makes him a bit.. jealous - there he admits it - when Margaret comes to visit and she deigns to stay with those degenerates Pierce and McIntyre rather than in the well-appointed guest wing of his home in Back Bay.

Margaret "Hot Lips" Houlihan is coming to visit and Trapper is worried. Both for the state of his jaw - Margaret has a right hook like a freight train and an inclination to use it - and for his opinion of himself. Cuz, see, he's done and said a lot of shitty things to Margaret Houlihan. Largely as a consequence of doing and saying them to Frank Burns. But he can admit now that a lot of what he and Hawkeye ragged on her for had more to do with her being an attractive woman who wouldn't sleep with them than her actual despicable beliefs and actions. Which have apparently got a lot less despicable in the years without Frank's influence. But Hawkeye's had those years to stumble into a genuine friendship with Margaret and all Trapper has is over a year's worth of enmity with Hot Lips. So he gets ready to grovel.

And it's a good thing, too. Cuz he comes home to Hawkeye and Margaret crying with laughter over something and as soon as he closes the front door, they just stop dead. Silent. Margaret's gaze pierces him to his very soul. But this means a lot, to him and Hawkeye both. So Trapper holds out a hand.

"John McIntyre, pleased to meet you."

Margaret's face is stone and Trapper prepares to hightail it outta there. But then she smiles and shakes his hand.

"Margaret Houlihan. And likewise."

"I know this don't erase the past," Trapper says once they've all sat down in the living room. "But I figure I've changed a fair bit over the years and I'm sorry for how I used to treat you. I hope we can get to know each other how we are now."

Margaret considers this. And Trapper ain't ashamed to admit he squirms a little under her assessing gaze. After what feels like an eternity, she must figure he's genuinely repentant cuz she says, "Apology accepted." And that's the end of that.

Later, they're all crammed together on the sofa after dinner, Hawkeye knitting and Trapper and Margaret drinking some of the good Scotch she brought along as a hostess gift. Margaret's telling all about the work she's doing at Fort Dix - it sounds like she's pretty much running the nursing staff already and like it won't be too long before she's got the whole hospital marching to her orders. It's fun. He wouldn't say they're friends yet, but Trapper thinks they could be.

Then Hawkeye asks, "So has any dashing Lieutenant Colonel or better caught your eye?" And Trapper is reminded of Margaret's own failed marriage to some dick who ran off to San Francisco rather than end things face to face. He's glad he was able to patch things up so well cuz Margaret's angry retribution is still clearly at the front of all their minds.

Margaret's smile is sharp. "No new Donald Penobscotts, no. Not that I haven't had a few flings here or there."

"Does a body good," is Hawkeye's two cents. "Not that I've had a lot of those lately." He glances meaningfully at Trapper.

And Trapper's a little confused at how overt he's being around Margaret Houlihan, of all people.

But then she says, "I've actually gotten back in touch with an old nursing school friend - she was nice enough to offer to be roommates so I wouldn't have to live on base."

And oh. Oh. He looks at Hawkeye to make sure he's reading this right.

"It's sure nice to settle down someplace after so long in an army camp," Trapper says. There. That can be taken all kindsa ways.

"I never thought it would happen to me. But I'm actually thinking of buying a house, if you can believe it. I have all that money I'd saved up for Penobscott," Margaret sneers his name. "And with two working women to pay the mortgage..."

"A Boston marriage," Trapper blurts, struck by the aptness. So much for subtlety.

Hawkeye laughs. "A Boston marriage transplanted right in Jersey. Is that why you came up to visit? To get some tips?" He's teasing but the idea that it's out in the open now. That they don't have to pussy foot around it anymore. That they share this thread of commonality. It's nice.

"I just came for the poker game, same as everyone else. But it's nice to catch up in person. Letters just can't say as much." Margaret smiles warmly. And it's not an expression Trapper's ever seen her wear, but it's a nice one.

And he's got all day Thursday to see it again. To get to know this new Margaret Houlihan.

Charles is.. miffed. It's poker night and he has two unwanted hangers-on in the form of old school chums - he sneers the word, even internally - who demanded his presence that evening. And when Charles had begged previous social obligations, they'd simply invited themselves along. Despite their breeding, some people simply have no class.

So now the two gentlemen are staring around the pub with twin looks of undisguised contempt. Completely unwarranted as, while the place is small and humble and full of working-class folk, it's clean and comfortable and homey. And after one has spent years in a flea-infested pit, one learns to appreciate that sort of thing.

Things get even worse when Charles chivvies them into the back room and they are confronted with Pierce, McIntyre, Houlihan, and Nurse Freeman. While none of them are the sort a Winchester usually associates with, they're all fine individuals and competent medical professionals, deserving of recognition and respect. Certainly not targets for the insipid sneering of Hampton and Smythe, who are asking if this is really how Charles spends his evenings.

McIntyre gets a look on his face that spells trouble. It's the look he wears when he goes toe to toe with Charles - and occasionally, Westham. The look he wears right before turning the natural order right on its head. And Pierce will follow him to the ends of the earth, especially in righteous vengeance. And Margaret has never been one to be condescended to. So Charles directs his two social albatross to the table in the vain hope that any carnage will be relegated to the cards.

"Now, we usually play a friendly sorta game," McIntyre starts the opening volley.

"But with two such distinguished gentlemen in our midst," Pierce continues, "surely we can't just play for peanuts."

Nurse Freeman starts shuffling the deck and Charles has never seen her look so regal. "I stand as the house tonight. Five card stud. One hundred dollar buy in." Her smile is like a knife. "All non-cash collateral must be verifiable and accepted by all players."

His fate is sealed. Charles wants to weep. They are absolutely going to run him and these socially inept simpletons into the ground. He looks to Margaret for compassion, but finds none. She always was the vengeful type. Charles only hopes that his friendship with those about to ruin his life stays their hands enough that he can still leave with the shirt on his back.

The game is absolutely brutal. Margaret, Pierce, and McIntyre aren't exactly winning pocket change, but the house - the house is what will drive him to financial ruin. And the entire nature of the game has changed. No one of the four is playing to win. They're playing to make Charles and his two idiot companions lose. The two idiots who are too stupid to realize what is happening and bow out.

Although, the amount they're drinking may have something to do with it. Before the game had properly started, McIntyre brought out a bottle. And while he, Margaret, and Nurse Freeman all have a glass - they're untouched. The three of them, plus Pierce, are sober as judges while Hampton and Smythe are acting like it's their last chance at revelry before entering the priesthood. The game is an unmitigated bloodbath.

By nine o'clock, Charles and the other two victims have moved from cash to physical collateral.

By ten o'clock, the pot has grown so large that they've moved to paper IOU's.

And, in what - mercifully - turns out to be the final hand, the house actually forms a board of trustees - consisting of herself and Pierce - to accept the endowment promised by Charles, Hampton, and Smythe in a legally binding document - written on a napkin, but still properly signed by all parties and witnessed by a gleeful McIntyre - made out to the South End clinic. At this point, thank God, Hampton and Smythe seem to realize they've made a terrible mistake and agree to end the game, sneaking off with their tails between their legs. Nurse Freeman watches them go with an expression of utmost satisfaction.

Still, it could have been worse. The Winchesters do only occasionally engage in philanthropy - usually as a.. creative tax write off - but it's for a good cause. And Pierce looks overjoyed as he kisses his compatriots on the cheeks - McIntyre slightly awkwardly, as if they're not quite sure where to aim, but then McIntyre isn't exactly a cosmopolitan - he's probably never even been to Europe. Then Pierce rounds on Charles. But he just shakes his hand exuberantly - like he's pumping water from a well - and thanks him for his contributions to medicine and the public good. It almost feels sincere.

"Don't look so glum, Winchester," McIntyre admonishes. "You can tell your folks you did it to keep the riff-raff outta Boston Mercy."

Charles laughs despite himself. "You know, that may very well work. And at least I know those two bumbling buffoons will never impose themselves on me again."

"I'll drink to that," Pierce says, raising his Shirley Temple.

And then it becomes just like their normal poker nights - with the welcome addition of Margaret, of course, who seems in exceptionally good spirits despite having resided with Pierce and McIntyre for an entire day. It's a night of silliness and witty - or not so witty - banter and camaraderie.

Charles really feels quite fortunate, despite everything.

#mash #piercintyre #fanfic archive #you can't cross the same river twice #chapter 9

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inkognito97 · 6 years

Note

In the superhero au, can we haveBatman/Bruce and obiwan track down ra's and bond somewhat. With satine in her supervillan persona running into obiwan and Bruce with her helping due to her underworld contacts. And the trio do end up fighting ra's and obiwan ends up taking him back to the league. With obiwan realizing ra's has been dipping into the pit again.

Obi-Wan was not sure, if he was supposed to feel annoyed, or if he should just be annoyed at the constant glare his fellow superhero sent his way. In fact, Batman had yet to do much else than to stare at his back, while he checked the Watchtower’s system for what felt like the umpteenth time. It was a little ridiculous to position guards, when there was hardly anything that could attack the satellite, but nobody wanted to be caught unaware in the unlikely case that something DID happen.

“Stop looking like this, you just get wrinkles,” Obi-Wan could not stand the silence anymore. At least his little comment had gotten a reaction, even though it was not the one he had hoped for.

Batman’s scowl had deepened to a point, were it was more amusing than anything else. “You are Ra’s al Ghul’s son,” the ma growled.

Obi-Wan had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. It shouldn’t surprise him that Batman, aka Bruce Wayne, would be bothered by this fact. But that he reacted this way… “I WAS his son, yes.”

“Was? What changed?” the detective sounded truly curios.

Without really seeing it, did Obi-Wan look at the monitors before him. His mind was far away, thinking about the incident that had changed everything and hung like a thunder cloud above him.

“I guess, he did,” Obi-Wan nodded his head slowly and turned his body slightly to look at the sitting man.

A thoughtful look had appeared on Batman’s features. “Elaborate,” he demanded.

The ginger haired superhero pushed himself away from the console and slowly made his way to his companion. They were both very much aware that Obi-Wan was playing for time, but Batman did not comment.

“I cannot explain it,” the Negotiator said finally. “I always believed that he… loved me, in his own way, but he DID love me. But then… he was willing to sacrifice me to get his revenge. It didn’t make sense, the man I got to know, would never have done that. He seemed, different, as if possessed. I know that probably does not make any sense, but this is how it was.”

Batman made a thoughtful noise and pushed his cowl aside, revealing the features of Gotham’s number one playboy and billionaire. “Have you talked to him afterwards?”

This conversation reminded Obi-Wan more and more of an interrogation. What was the overgrown bat up to? “if you consider yelling at him that he is not my father, then yes.” He shrugged and looked directly into Bruce Wayne’s calculating eyes. “You have a suspicion?”

Bruce grimaced. “More than one in fact, and one worse than the one before,” that was all he offered.

“How about we go search for him and find it out ourselves?” it was certainly better than sitting the whole day in the Watchtower, doing less than nothing.

“How do you propose that we find him? Ra’s is a master of trickery AND he is the leader of an organization of assassins and ninjas.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrow met his hairline. “You forget that I was trained by him, even longer than you were. Also, I might have the right person for the job.”

Bruce had turned thoughtful. He leaned back in the armchair he was seated on, his finger stroking his chin absentmindedly. He was contemplating the idea, that much was clear. “If we manage to find and engage him, what will be our next step.”

Obi-Wan liked people, who wanted to have everything covered. He himself preferred a good strategy over mindless and rash acting. “We will capture him and bring him here, far away from outside sources.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Bruce scoffer, though his dark eyes shone with amusement.

Obi-Wan could not help, but smirk. “You are Batman, aren’t you.”

“Alright,” determination had settled on Batman’s features, “we will do it.”

“Lovely, it’s a date then,” he had deserved the empty cup of coffee that came flying his way at that comment.

“When you said that you wanted to meet up, my dear, I had not expected you to bring someone,” a female voice spoke from apparently no where, but the alleyway was dark and there were certainly enough hiding spots for the Duchess.

“I thought it would make things… more interesting,” the ginger haired superhero retorted easily, sporting a large grin that was only partly hidden by his beard.

A suffering sigh could be heard and the blond female stepped out of her hiding spot. She had been cowering behind a pile of old and worn out cartons. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

“I had hoped you could help us… help ME, find someone,” Obi-Wan took a step forward.

The supervillain raised an elegant eyebrow. “And who, might I ask?” she tilted her head.

“My father,” all the playfulness had vanished, both from his voice, but also from his face. “Qui-Gon Jinn, or how he calls himself now, Ra’s al Ghul.”

A visible shudder ran through the female. “I can help you with that… but you are not truly considering facing him just with Batboy over there, are you?”

Batman’s face showed no emotion, not even at the insult. Hadn’t it been for the constant rise of his chest and the light mirroring in his eyes, he could have been a realistic statue.

“There is just us,” the Negotiator replied calmly.

Satine was fighting with herself. The emotions she felt for the hero, were battling her fear against the man, they were searching. It was a battle against herself. “Alright,” she said after a while, “I will tell you, where to find him, BUT ONLY, when you take me with you. I won’t let you face that man all on your own.”

Obi-Wan nodded grateful and even Batman seemed alright with the idea, at least he did not say anything against it and Obi-Wan would certainly not ask. Either the man told them his opinion, or he wouldn’t, it was his decision, he was old enough after all.

“Had I known that he had swords and knives, I would never have agreed to this suicide mission,” Satine grumbled. She was holding up her left arm so that Obi-Wan was able to bandage her waist. The bleeding had thankfully stopped at this point.

“I am glad that you came,” Obi-Wan whispered, he did not want for Batman to hear what he had to say. The latter was currently busy with tying up the unconscious head of the demon and he was making enough noise to not understand, but the Jedi just wanted to be extra sure. “Without your psychic energy manipulation, we would never have won.”

An unknown emotion appeared on her pale features for half a second, but it was too quick for Obi-Wan to identify it. “In this case, I am glad that I was of help.” The smile that he gave her was well worth the wound.

“Thank you for your help,” the Negotiator said loud enough for his hero companion to hear. Then, he stood up and took the blonde’s hand, pressing a kiss against the back of it. A wink and a sly smirk were exchanged, then he turned back to Batman, who had just finished tying up the unconscious Ra’s.

“You were right,” the dark knight said out of nowhere, “this is not the Ra’s al Ghul I got to know.” There was something sinister in his voice.

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

The caped crusader grunted in reply and bent down once more, rolling the sleeve of the man’s outfit up and inserting a needled into Ra’s skin.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a probe and testing if my suspicion is true,” his eyes never left the device. It took a few moments, in which Obi-Wan noticed that his female helper had already vanished, until the device peeped, signalling that it was ready. “It is like I thought,” he handed Obi-Wan the result.

“The Lazarus Pit,” the ginger haired male finished the sentence. It felt like a blow to the stomach or perhaps like a free fall from a skyscraper. His father had sworn to never set foot into that cursed thing ever again. It turned him evil, the proof lay unconsciously before him. “He will not be pleased once he wakes up. The Pit is like a drug, it will be a cold withdrawal.”

“We better lock him into the most secured cell then,” there was worry in Batman’s voice and that was never a good sign.

“And we have to set up watch,” Obi-Wan added.

“Let’s hurry then,” as soon as he had spoken, a shadow appeared on the ground. Obi-Wan did not need to look, to know that the Batwing was hovering over him.

“Yes,” he answered and together with Bruce Wayne - who seemed more decent that he had originally thought - he heaved the tall and heavy man into the Batwing. He already dreaded the next few days…

#star wars #batman #crossover #justice league #superhero au #superhero obi-wan #supervillain satine #qui gon is ra's al ghul #ra's al ghul survives #bruce wayne #the batman #satine kryze #qui gon jinn #obi wan kenobi #slightly obitine #prompt #anonymous

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sarahbearah1914 · 7 years

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Love and Coffee 3

Chapter three is here! To refresh your memories, here is the link to chapter one and chapter two

Chapter 3: Mother Knows Best

Sunday January 17th, 2016

11:30 AM

Kisame Hoshigaki was a mama’s boy. As an only child whose father was building his business empire during the early years of his life, Kisame spent a lot of time with his mother growing up. His mother, unlike the mothers of his friends had come from a more humble background and thus didn’t rely on nannies or housekeepers to raise her son; as such they were very close. So close in fact, that Kisame had gone home to spend time with his mother every Sunday without fail since he moved out. That’s not to say that he didn’t go home more often than that, but Sundays for the Hoshigaki family were special mother son days and had been for almost his entire life. When he was young they were dedicated to special trips or outings, and now that he was older he treated his mom to lunch, maybe some time out on the town, or a simple afternoon at home just catching up before the small family ate dinner together. It wasn’t that Kisame didn’t have a good relationship with his father, he was supportive in his own way, talked to him about girls and whatnot, and they shared a love of marine life.

It was almost noon when Kisame pulled through the gate and up the driveway of his parent’s home, stomach growling as the smell of garlic chicken Alfredo, and chicken and shrimp carbonara filled his car. He’d stopped by his mother’s favorite Italian place just as it was opening and put in their usual order, he’d even gotten extra soup, breadsticks and desserts because his spirits were so high. His date, minus a small hiccup (which turned out really good for him, he’d gotten a very nice shock at the kiss Sachiko had given him before running off to her roommate) had been, as cheesy as it sounds, the best date he’d ever been on. He was humming the same catchy song non stop since he dropped Sachiko off, the same song that came on as she shut the door of his truck. It was like the radio had read his soul, giving him exactly what he needed.

“I’m already thinking ‘bout you and me getting out of here and taking a drive,” Kisame sung under his breath as he walked up to the door. Kisame had been too busy watching Sachiko walk away with her friends out of the garage, and was glad he did because he got to see her turn and wave, but between watching her and his thoughts the idea of actually looking to see what the song was completely slipped his mind. He was kicking himself for half an hour as he flipped through his presets trying to find it again. The song was quickly purchased, and the ring tone was still tempting him. He resisted though, reminding himself that Sachiko wasn’t his girlfriend (yet) and so her messages were given their own ringtone, specific to her, but from the provided tones that came with his phone.

Just as he was reaching for the handle the door opened.

“Hi Pumpkin! Come in, come in, it’s cold!”

“Ma, I’m in Graduate School, I haven’t been a Pumpkin for a while,” Kisame groused good-naturedly as he walked through the door and placed a kiss on his mother’s cheek. Aiko Hoshigaki was a short woman compared to her son and husband but in reality was five foot eight, and while she didn’t pass height onto her son, she did pass on her eyes and work ethic. She had been working as an assistant to an accountant while trying to put herself through pastry school when she met Kisame’s father. Her face was kind and the beginnings of laugh lines were beginning to show.

“You’ll always be Pumpkin, baby, no matter if you’re three or three hundred,” His mother sassed, taking a bag and walking with him to the dining room. Kisame began taking the food out and his mother went to get silverware, unaware that he’d been humming. “You’re in a good mood,” His mother chimed from behind him.

“I had a good day yesterday Ma. How have you been?”

“I’m good, how was your date?” his mother inquired, buzzing with excitement. Kisame stopped what he was doing, take out container still in his hand as it hovered just above the table.

“How did you know I went on a date yesterday?” Kisame mentally backtracked, he was sure he didn’t tell his mother about it, and no one that they saw yesterday would have told her about it. Kisame purposely didn’t mention the date as to not get his or his overzealous mother’s hopes up. A sly grin stretched across her face, looking much like the cat who got the canary.

“I couldn’t reach you on your cell last night, so I called your apartment and you would not believe what Itachi-chan told me! He told me that my wonderful, ONLY child went on a date, and didn’t tell me, his mother about it!” The look on her face wasn’t just of the cat that got the canary, but the cream too.

Itachi, you little weasel, Kisame mentally cussed his roommate five ways to Sunday.

“I was a first date, Ma, didn’t want to get either of our hopes up.” Kisame explained as he sat down. His mother was practically vibrating as the next in what was sure to be a long series of questions tumbled out her mouth.

“Well, did it go well?” she asked, but her question was followed by a high pitched squeal as he nodded before she could even finish asking. Kisame pushed a finger into his ear and shook it, trying to dispel the ringing. “Tell me EVERYTHING, Kisame, and I mean everything!”

And so he did. He spilled his guts like a bunch of preteen girls on a sleep over.

“Ma, I thought the whole night was screwed when we got to the bus stop and it was pulling away. Why the hell doesn’t the University have later buses? Anyway, I drove her to a parking garage on campus and her roommate and a friend met her there.” Kisame cleared his throat, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. “She kissed my cheek before hopping out of the truck.” By this time they were making their way through dessert and he was staring intently down at…whatever this chocolate thing was. A calculating and protective look flashed across his mother’s face.

“You really like this girl, don’t you? She sounds nice,” She stated as she took a bite of her own dessert.

“She’s great, we talk just about every day, I want to ask her out again, but our first date was yesterday and I don’t want to come off as pushy.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She has no idea about Mist, about what dad does. I get to be a normal guy with her Ma, and I love it, but what if I screw up? She didn’t even know I was on the swim team.” Kisame poured his heart out, sending a hopeless glance to his phone. However his phone, being an inanimate object didn’t feel obliged to answer his silent prayer and stayed silent from its spot next to his plate. At his admission the protectiveness receded from his mother’s eyes.

“So how did you two meet?” she questioned, face softening with the realization that her baby just might be in love, well, maybe not love, but there was definitely a shine to her son that wasn’t there before. And so she listened to the tale, scoffing at Sasuke’s rudeness and nodding proudly at her son’s insistence of replacing the girl’s drink after chuckling at his clumsiness at knocking it to the floor in the first place.

“It took a bit for her to finally warm up to me and tell me what was really wrong, because no one could really get THAT upset over coffee, right? Turns out she was stood up. Can you believe it Ma; some idiot actually stood her up!” Kisame exclaimed angrily before going on to tell her about how they sat and talked before Sachiko had to run to class. As Kisame talked and talked his mother relaxed more and more. Sure, she was going to have a full background check done, but Kisame didn’t need to know that.

“You should ask her to come to your swim meet, your father and I won’t be able to make it because of a charity event, so it would be nice to have someone there to cheer you on, huh?” At his nod she pressed on. “Ask her NOW, Kisame.” She sent him an indulgent smile that let him know this wasn’t something she was going to let go. Grudgingly Kisame unlocked his phone and began to type.

[Kisame] Hey, if you aren’t doing anything next Saturday, would you like to come to my Swim Meet? It’s at 1.

He and his mother stared at the phone like a bomb about to go off in their faces. Her customized chime went off much quicker than expected.

[Sachiko] I’d love to!

However, before Kisame could text her back, his phone was snatched from his hand and his mother danced out of reach, typing as she went. “And send!” she exclaimed.

[Kisame] I could tell you about it over lunch?

Kisame went as pale as a ghost.

“Ma, what did you just do? Mom, mother, please give me my phone. What did you do?” Kisame tried getting his phone, but wouldn’t be able to unless he grabbed his mom first, and grown man or not, he would get his ass beat if he ever man handled his mother, joking around or not. Kisame knew he was a big man and could very easily hurt someone if he wasn’t careful. He froze, still as a statue when his phone chimed again. Grinning, his mother read aloud.

[Sachiko] Sounds great =) Does Tuesday work for you? I promised Tenten we’d get sushi tomorrow.

“Sounds great. Oh look she put a smiley face honey, and she uses the equals sign when she makes it, that’s cute. Does Tuesday work for you? I promised Tenten we’d get sushi tomorrow. Who’s Tenten?” Still grinning she fought the urge to read over their previous texts; though she did spy the goodnight texts they sent each other.

“Tenten is her roommate. What sounds great, what did you say? Mother give me my phone please.” Kisame would later deny that the sound that just left his mouth was a whine; it was not a whine, just a desperate request from an exasperated son to a meddling mother.

“Your lovely mother just got you a lunch date for Tuesday; oh I can’t wait to tell your father! Have you told Zabuza and Haku about her?” She was very proud of herself when she finally handed his phone back to him.

“No Way! Zabuza would have spent every swim practice giving shitty-“

“Kisame, language!”

“-sorry Ma, bad advice, and Haku, has Haku even been on a date?” Kisame pondered his own question for a moment.

“Well, Zabuza probably isn’t the best guy to go to for dating advice. I love your cousin but he goes through girlfriends like tissues. As for poor Haku, it’s been a while, Zabuza scares off every boy he brings home.” She tutted softly and shook her head. Kisame might be an only child, but he and his two cousins were as close as any brothers could be. Zabuza and Haku were the sons of Kisame’s uncle, Zabuza being only a year old than Kisame, and Haku being two years younger. While his uncle was older, and had a different father and last name, the Momochi and Hoshigaki families were as close as could be and would continue to be through the generations.

The cousins had been in swimming programs together as far back as any of them could remember and worked well as a team. Their closeness had some drawbacks though. Kisame, and especially Zabuza were very protective of Haku, first because he took after his delicate mother, then later their protectiveness skyrocketed when he came out as gay. Zabuza had even been suspended from school at one point for putting a bully in his place. There was no one more precious to Zabuza than Haku, and he wasn’t about to let anyone say a bad word about him or hand his innocent baby brother to just anyone who showed interest. No, Zabuza had very high standards for any would be suitor to fill when it came to his brother, though no real standards to speak of when it came to himself.

The rest of the visit consisted of the two of them sharing dessert and his mother giving unwanted dating advice on top of their normal weekly catch up. Kisame considered the events of the day over and over as he began the journey back to his apartment. If not for Itachi and his mother, he might not have gotten the courage to ask Sachiko out until the next time he saw her, and who knows when that would have been? Now not only was he seeing her on Tuesday but she was also coming to his swim meet. Figuring that it was only fair to treat his roommate, Kisame stopped at a little hole in the wall sweet shop by the police station. If Itachi was to be believed they supposedly made the best dango in the entire city, and when it came to dango he really was an expert. He acquired two sticks of the tricolored confections before continuing on. Itachi was looking over some files at the kitchen table when he got home.

“Hey tattle-tale,” Kisame called out to him as he kicked his shoes off and hung his jacket on his hook. Itachi didn’t even look up from whatever he was working on.

“Hn. Answer your phone next time.” Itachi turned a page and squinted at the text.

“Who pissed in your morning tea? And wear your glasses, squinting is bad for your eyes.” That got him what he called Itachi’s trademark “I don’t have time for your shit” look.

“You aren’t my Oka-san Kisame. “

“You don’t know where your glasses are, do you?”

“Hn.” Nope, Itachi didn’t know.

“They’re in the medicine cabinet. But because of that attitude I’ll just have to eat these myself.” Kisame gave a grin, all teeth and pulled that take out bag from behind his back.

“Are those-“

“Yes, they are from that place you like,“ Kisame answered him before the question was even finished and Itachi’s eyes followed the bag like a bloodhound on a scent. Kisame really shouldn’t have so much fun teasing Itachi, but there were so few things the Uchiha got truly worked up about. No, only someone with a death wish would get between Itachi Uchiha and sweets. Kisame watched Itachi gather his things and go to his room, making a pit-stop at the bathroom to grab his glasses. He knew that Itachi would not emerge from his room until he was finished with whatever work he was doing when Kisame came home.

Sunday January 17th, 2016

10:30 PM

Itachi Uchiha rubbed under his eyes, tired but satisfied that he was finished reviewing the cases his father had him look over. He’d make his family proud, but the weight of being an Uchiha prodigy was getting heavier by the day. The harder he worked, the better of a life Sasuke got, but Itachi was starting to consider that maybe he spoiled his precious otouto a little too much. The elders were shifting the focus of their pressures lately, he’d proven he could live up to their expectations both professionally and academically so their focus was shifting to his personal life. Resigning himself that this was just too much to think about right now, Itachi poured the hot water for his evening tea and opened the fridge to get the milk. There, sitting innocently on the top shelf was the same bag from earlier, but now it had a note stapled to the front. Reaching out he plucked the note with nimble fingers. Written in Kisame’s neat script was the following message.

Got another date Tuesday, so thanks, Weasel.

They’re all yours.

Opening the bag, Itachi looked upon the two perfect sticks of dango with the same fondness that a mother looked upon her newborn child.

THIS was why Kisame was his best friend.

#kisame #kisame hoshigaki #kisaoc #romance #modern au #college au #fluff #lots of fluff #teeth rotting fluff #naruto #itachi is a tattle-tale #Kisame is a momm'a boy

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