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httpkaulitz · 16 days

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high enough

PAIRINGS: Vampire!Bill x Female reader

CONTENT: Smut

SYNOPSIS: Bill is a little addicted to you.

WARNINGS: mention of addiction, mention of blood and bite, manipulation, fingering, oral (f receiving)

You met Bill by chance, after another day of work you were coming home and literally bumped into him. Staggering and somewhat disoriented, he didn't know where he was.

Against all your thoughts of self-preservation you took him home and took care of him.

When Bill told you he was a vampire, you thought he was crazy and when he showed you what he was you strangely remained calm. Somehow you felt like he wouldn't hurt you. And he never did.

All the blood he had from you was given to him willingly. You wanted to help him and so you did.

And it was by wanting to help him that you ended up in this situation.

"What do you want?" Bill asked impatiently.

"What I want?" You repeated, looking at yourself in the mirror. "Nothing. I'm happy."

He let out a frustrated groan before taking a deep breath. You watched him straighten up, though the action was considerably less intimidating. His bleached blonde hair was disheveled and tangled with a light sweat on his forehead.

"Damn it." You observed. “you’re worse than an addicted.”

“Brilliant deduction! Do you want a fucking medal?” You raised an eyebrow.

Bill slapped his face, rubbing his stubble tiredly.

“Can’t you just help me?” He was always ready to dramatize, you already knew his tactics. You turned to him.

“We have already had this discussion. No." You said firmly.

"I can give you-." He started to speak but you interrupted him before he could even continue his speech about how good he could be and give you expensive things that you never had. You've been through this before.

"Nothing." You interrupted, crossing your arms. “I don't want anything from you, Bill. I like my life. I like my boyfriend. I like my job. There is nothing I want from you that can change my mind. Plus, I’m pretty sure I can think of a handful of humans who would be more than willing…”

“I DON’T WANT ANY IDIOTS OFF THE STREET!” His jaw was tense. If he applied more force, you'd think he might break his molars. “I want your blood. Yours. Do I need to spell this out for you?”

He approached you, brown eyes glaring at you.

"Please." His voice was almost pleading.

Inhaling silently, you studied him with half-closed eyes.

A second later and you shook your head.

“There is nothing special about my blood. You're being needy because I was there for you when no one else was. It was my mistake. I won't let that happen again.”

Before he could lift a finger, your arm flew forward. Either he was too weak to fight back or he wasn't even trying. Whatever the reasoning, you were easily able to make him fall back into a chair.

He didn't seem surprised by the gesture, nor did he try to fight it.

“I’m going to meet my boyfriend.” You said approaching him. “When I come back, you will be gone.”

“Liebe.” He whispered with furrowed brows and doe eyes.

“Bill, stop. You're better than that." You paused, grimacing. “I'm serious, control yourself.”

His head fell back and despite your better judgment, you went to his side. The last thing you needed was a drugged-out vampire in your apartment.

The moment one of your hands wrapped around the back of his head, Bill grabbed your wrist.

The pressure was gentle but sticky. His reddish brown eyes tried to mask a poorly concealed despair. Both pupils were dilated.

"You know." He drawled, bringing the back of your hand to his cheek. "You're my favorite human."

“I’m not yours.” You corrected, unable to not find his attention somewhat amusing.

“Oh, but you are.” He snapped and you rolled your eyes, the stubble rubbing against the skin of your hand like sandpaper. “It means your blood is very special. You are my special human. I don’t want anyone’s blood but yours.”

He continued stroking your hand. You found it slightly disturbing and strangely adorable.

“Quick fix.” He whimpered softly, pulling your fingers up to his lips as he blinked rapidly. “Just a taste will be enough for me. I won’t bother you again after this.”

You let out a pained gasp, your thumb thoughtlessly brushing his upper lip. He responded by kissing the tip of your thumb.

“I won't do it again. This is the last time, okay?” You always said that and you both pretended to believe it. The truth is, you couldn't say no to him even if you tried.

"Sure." He agreed, releasing your hand. "Last time."

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

“Oh, Jesus, not again.” You exclaimed impatiently.

This time, he was lying in your bed, with the sheets piled up beside him. Your comforter was thrown somewhere on the floor.

“Liebe.” He greeted you lazily. Despite knowing his name, he never used it. Always using some German word that you didn't know what it meant. “I'm glad you're here. Would you mind giving me some liquid?”

You shook your head in disbelief.

"Unless you want me to piss in your mouth, I suggest you get out of here." You responded sarcastically without patience.

“Piss in my mouth?” He repeated slowly. Without warning, he burst into laughter, fingers gripping the sheets in delight.

You made a mental note to change them after he left.

“I’m an eccentric bastard, but not that eccentric.” He said. “You said last time that you wouldn't donate again, but you don't understand. You don't understand the euphoria you give me. It’s… I imagine it’s magical.”

''I'm sure you can live without it.'' Spinning around, you quickly rid yourself of the shirt, tossing it onto a nearby chair. You took a deep breath, arms reaching for the ceiling. The position was maintained until you felt the pleasant burning in your muscles.

"But I do not want." He says thoughtfully.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” You mumbled, taking off your jeans.

He didn't respond to your joke. Instead, he got up from the bed. Not that you heard or noticed it.

Until you felt the unexpected pressure of two warm hands resting on your hips.

“Bill.” You warned, looking at him over your shoulder.

"Hmm?" He hummed, shamelessly pressing into you.

“Get off me.” You whispered seriously hoping he would respect your request.

"I don't want." His grip tightened. You tried to ignore his hardened length digging teasingly against your ass.

“I heard a rumor that you’re not happy with your little toy.” He whispered in your ear huskily. You were so shocked by his boldness that you ignored how your skin crawled.

"You don't have ri-."

"It is not?" Bill asked with a raised eyebrow. “I keep tabs on my favorite human.”

You weren’t sure if he was serious or bluffing.

“So, you have romance, flowers, blah, blah, etc.” He listed, two fingers slipping under the band of your panties but not going any further. “But when it comes to being naughty, he falls a little… boring.”

A calloused hand brushed against your ribcage, nails grazing the skin experimentally. Involuntarily, your breathing became shallow.

“A little sexually frustrated, aren’t you?” He continued.

You were ready to lift a heel and tap his toes when, without warning, he grabbed one of your breasts, smirking when you shivered.

“I could do anything you wanted.” He suggested, brushing the outline of your hard nipple with his thumb. “I could be a good boy for you, if you want. I could easily spend hours paying attention to your pretty pussy, you know. I spent a beautiful day or two thinking about it.”

His breath sent a wave of goosebumps across your shoulder.

“Playing with your clit. Sucking it. Making you all nervous. Always giving. I don't have to worry about my own needs. I’ll put my tongue to good use, ma’am.”

Your hips moved forward as the two previously inactive fingers slid across the opening, not penetrating but brushing the sensitive wetness with tantalizing intent.

Protesting the action would have been counterproductive. Despite Bill's irritating nature of manipulating and being a general jerk, his words were leaving you embarrassingly wet.

And that was what was confusing you.

“You are a pathetic addicted.” You tried to sound angry, but your voice came out shaky.

You felt his shrug before he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You are my conflicted and sexually frustrated supplier. I don’t think we need to point fingers” He said amused.

Biting your lip, you forced yourself not to think about the hand massaging your breast or the two fingers caressing your pussy.

It was a trickery. The word alone made an unpleasant feeling of guilt in your stomach. Your boyfriend was a nice guy. Better than you dated in a long time. He treated you with a respect that's hard to find these days.

So, the sex wasn't the best. Was it really worth throwing away months of a well-paced relationship just for a few seconds of mindless pleasure? Especially with Bill, of all people!

You may not be the best person in the world, but you tried to be good.

On the other hand, befriending him wasn't exactly a step in that direction.

“Mistress?” He was gone. There was no longer Bill in that tone.

You would have found his submission more comical if it hadn't worried you so much. And it intrigued you more than anything.

“I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” He insisted. “Our little secret. Fair deal, I guess. In fact, I'll give you a free sample.”

Unexpectedly, he removed both of his hands and moved away from you. The disappointment you felt at the loss of contact was not something you wanted to reflect on.

You saw him kneel before you, his eyes wide but focused. More focused than you usually witnessed when he craved your blood.

"Come here." He gestured.

When you stayed still, he snorted softly. With a few quick movements, he knelt so he was eye level with your hips.

You knew what he was about to do. This, perhaps, was the worst part. You knew and you felt…excited. Relieved, even. For the first time in months, you were about to receive as much as you gave. Appropriately.

It was selfish and terrible, but equally thrilling and exciting.

“Open your legs a little for me, baby.” You did as he said, teeth firmly gripping your bottom lip.

"My God, you've been a lecherous young lady, haven't you?" Bill smiled, hands steadying himself on your hips.

"Shut up." You mumbled, ignoring his embarrassment.

"Yes ma'am." His fingers hooked into the elastic and slowly slid your panties down. The entire time, his tongue was stuck between his teeth while his eyes never left your pussy.

You took off your panties, almost shaking with excitement when he threw them over his shoulder.

“Hmm.” He marveled, tilting his head. "I was right. Beautiful."

The compliment made you not only blush but also become slightly irritated. Were your priorities really that far off?

That depressing thought spurred your next action.

Quickly, a hand grabbed Bill's hair by the roots. With a push, you pulled back, ensuring his eyes locked with yours.

“If you want my blood, you work for it. Got it?" You didn't even realize you had a dominant streak until Bill's obedient nod made you smile. “If I don't reach my high, you certainly won't reach yours.”

"Yes ma'am." He responded obediently. No sign of sarcasm or mockery.

You looked at him for a second longer and let go of his hair. Bill wasted no time.

It didn't take more than five minutes for you to cum. Whether this was a result of not having pleasure for so long or Bill's genuine talent, you weren't sure.

What you could be sure of, when a hand found his hair again and kept his tongue and lips attached to your clit, was that you were entirely willing to make that bargain again.

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

This arrangement lasted a solid month. Which surprised you. You thought the moral of exchanging blood for sexual acts would disgust you. At least enough to present a bigger argument the next time Bill showed up again. But that wasn't the case.

The next meeting was certainly a little awkward. You came home from your shift and found him sitting patiently on your bed. He didn't say anything. He just watched you as you tiredly took off your clothes. His submission was strange but attractive. It wasn't until you were blessed with a quiet Bill that you realized how much you appreciated him.

"How are you doing?"

It was strange, but you couldn't help but ask. Bill may have been an addicted and willing to do anything to get what you wanted, but he was still a living creature beneath that stupid desperation. Completely degrading him brought you no pleasure and wasn't something you felt completely comfortable doing.

“You won’t hurt me.” Bill complained. “I'm a big boy. Do your worst."

“Do you want a safe word?” Yet you asked.

“Unless you have plans to kill me, I really don’t see the point.” That was the last discussion about a safe word or words in general.

Bill came three times a week, sometimes four. Always when you were alone. His snark, thankfully, wasn’t present and he did everything you requested of him.

At first, you were careful about boundaries. The first week was spent mostly in your bed, with Bill buried between your thighs. He was surprisingly energetic, licking and sucking you like a hungry animal. His fingers were excited too, starting to pinch your clit and moving in and out of you at deliciously insane speeds.

No orgasms were faked, and if you were taking a while to cum, Bill worked with impressive voracity to ensure you reached your high.

That's what made you bolder.

In the second week, you ordered him to touch himself.

"What?" He asked confused.

"I want you to touch yourself." He studied you with half-closed eyes.

"You understand this isn't about my pleasure, right?"

"Yes. It's about mine. Drop your pants, sit on the chair and touch yourself.” Your voice didn't even tremble.

His confusion was evident, but he did as you asked.

As you guessed, watching him masturbate was a deeply satisfying sight. On some level, you wanted him to feel pleasure from this arrangement, but that had more to do with fascination. Fascination with being able to make someone bigger and stronger take off his underwear, sit down, spread his legs, wrap his hand around his generously sized cock and slowly start stroking himself. In front of you. Simply because you ordered it.

The control was intoxicating.

You didn’t ask him to do anything else after he climaxed with a strangled moan. And it was one of the first times you realized that Bill had no idea what your game was. Or at least why you were enjoying watching him cum.

The rest of the month followed roughly the same schedule. You would give him an order and after a brief but curious glance in his direction, Bill would obey.

Many of the commands required you to cum. At you request, Bill got into the habit of bringing a vibrator. Which he used on you very well.

Some days the commands were to get him out. You were creative and it was never the same way. True, he always touched himself, but sometimes it was kneeling on the bed or bending over a chair so you could admire his cute ass. Once, you even deprived him of his vision with a scarf, taking advantage of the slight uncertainty his hand felt when caressing himself.

By the four week, you were comfortable enough to ride his persistent tongue into pleasure without an ounce of shame or embarrassment.

On the days Bill didn't show up, you questioned what you were doing with him. In public and surrounded by friends, you were passive and sociable. On nights when the two of you were alone, you were loose and experiencing some serious dominance kink.

For a long time, you were puzzled and faintly appalled by your actions.

Then one night, it hit you.

When would you ever get that kind of sexual freedom again? That ability to explore what made your toes curl and grip the headboard until your mind went blank and your voice hoarse.

Nights with Bill made you feel liberated. They made you feel like a woman. The vampire never judged you, although in the end he received your blood, so that was his triumph.

Regardless, the ability to delve deeper into your sexuality and learn the new ways your body responded to stimulation was one of the biggest reasons you never withheld your blood from Bill.

If there was any guilt you held onto, it was because Bill did the things you asked for your blood, nothing more. It would have been nice if his actions were genuine. But he was an addicted, you reminded yourself.

This, when you looked back on the whole fiasco, was ultimately where you made an error in judgment. Assuming Bill regarded your meetings as nothing but a necessary task in order to gain the true source of pleasure: your blood.

In fact, you were completely unaware that after only two weeks together, he’d completely kicked his blood habit.

And that he was testing you.

It wasn’t until the month was complete that you found out why.

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

He wasn't sitting on the bed this time.

Instead, he was standing tall and physically looked immaculate. Hair combed, beard trimmed and he looked at you differently.

The moment you absorbed all these changes, you felt a distinct shift in power.

It was definitely not in your hands anymore.

“You look healthy.” You greeted. “Who finally got to talk you out of it?”

A part of you couldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. You sessions would probably come to an end. And the Bill before you certainly didn't look like he was taking orders.

But you weren't selfish enough to deny feeling genuine happiness that he was no longer an addicted. No one deserved to be a victim of this desire. Of course, he will always have to live with the desire to drink blood, but now in a controlled way.

“That’d be you, darling.” He revealed. “Put plenty of things in perspective for me.”

"Good." You encouraged, offering him a soft smile.

He continued watching you without blinking.

“See yourself in the mirror lately?” He asked.

Immediately, a hand patted your hair.

“Did a bird shit on my head again?” You walked over to the mirror, fingers examining you head.

Bill appeared behind you and stopped your search by grabbing your wrist.

You looked at him.

“Skin doesn’t have the vibrant glow it normally has.” He whispered calmly.

Eyebrows furrowed, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Wow. How did you miss that?

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered.” He continued. “Always giving me the amount of blood I ask for is not an easy task. Or a healthy one. But I can’t allow you to get hurt.”

You nodded absently. Your brain became more fuzzy at the consideration Bill was giving you.

"Why are you being nice?" You asked, looking at him warily.

“Like I said… I got a little perspective on things.” He replied.

“Do I need to be worried?” You asked apprehensively.

"Hardly. Not only have you fulfilled my needs, but you did so discretely. As an added bonus, you even made personal sacrifices. That right there... that's the way to a man's heart."

“I think you’re overestimating my worth.” You pulled your hand away. The conversation starting to make you uncomfortable.

“Honey, you’re underestimating yourself. Let me explain what happened last month to you. I was vulnerable, needy and weak. Instead of making a name for yourself - which I'm beginning to doubt even crossed your mind - and taking advantage of me, you quietly gave me my fix. With me so far?”

“Anyone would have done it.” You knew this was a lie the moment it passed your lips.

“Mm… I’m afraid not, liebe. I don’t find that kind of loyalty.” You weren’t sure if you should feel flattered or flustered.

“Now, this is where it gets interesting. After I got my addiction under control, I couldn't help but wonder why you were helping me. So selflessly, in fact.”

“I got off on telling you what to do.” You defended.

“No, I understand that part. But you started making small sacrifices.” Swallowing hard, you took a step back.

"Like what?" You asked confused.

"Well, like breaking up with your little toy, for example." Bill hummed in amusement.

“He didn’t deserve to be betrayed. It had nothing to do with you.” Bill smiled at that.

“If it weren't for my mouth on your pussy three times a week, you never would have let the poor guy go. I had a little input into that.” Something inside you twitched with discomfort and pleasure.

“So, as we saw, you neglected your appearance a little. You didn't even realize how much blood I was taking from you. And yet, you continued to give.” Taking a careful breath, you tried to get your thoughts in order.

"You deserved to get what came to me for." It seemed like a lame excuse, despite its veracity.

“And that’s the fun part!” Bill exclaimed. “This whole time you were under the impression that I hated it. I hated making you cum, I hated cumming while you watched, I hated the total attention you gave me. I'm not sure if you've heard, but I have a bit of an ego. And you caressed it until I was weak in the knees. You had so much control in your hands and had the courtesy to worry about my own pleasure. Not very mistressy of you, liebe.”

“If you were so confused about it, then why the hell didn’t you stop?” You retorted. “If you didn’t like me not playing my role, you should have stopped playing yours.”

“Ah, but I liked my role.” He assured, eyes slowly scanning your body. “In fact, if you knew how much I enjoyed it, you would be more worried about disappearing so I could never find you.”

"Are you-?" Your voice died in the middle of your throat.

“Ah, I left my favorite human speechless. Well, let’s see if I can remedy that.” Before you could blink everything went dark.

When you woke up you were in a huge room with incredibly expensive furniture. The place was well lit and looked very modern, you could see some paintings on the walls around it. The tables held a variety of food and drinks. Some, you noticed, were among your favorites.

Your mouth officially dropped open when you noticed it was king size and the sheets were brown. Also expensive, it seems. Above that, your eyes sharpened on the silk ties tied provocatively to the headboard. That was certainly a vision that spoke for itself.

“I will not be your mistress!” You argued, quickly getting up from the bed.

“I prefer the term girlfriend.” He didn't move from his seat once.

This gave you the confidence to try to escape. You ran towards the door but it was locked.

“Nice trick, isn’t it?” Bill mentioned, pride coloring his voice. “I blocked your exit, my dear.”

“Bill let me go.” With a tight frown, you stared at him.

“I will give you anything you want.” He promised. “In the meantime, you might consider this vacation a little more…permanent.”

“You are imprisoning me!” You screamed, anger burning through your veins.

"Keeping." He corrected. “I'm keeping you. Considerable difference in terminology.”

You tried to regain control of your breathing, but your current situation didn't allow for that.

“I like you, liebe.” Bill stated seriously. “You are charming, adventurous, and deceptively thoughtful. More than that, you are trustworthy. And has a sexual appetite that rivals mine.”

“And you couldn’t have told me that without kidnapping me?”

"Keeping." He remembered. “What would you honestly have done if I told you I was pretending to be an addicted because I was more addicted to you? Which sounds as terribly sentimental out loud as it does in my head. Shame. I thought it would translate better.”

You backed away until the backs of your knees hit the bed. Tremblingly, you sat up, palms hitting the sheets beneath you.

“I was kidnapped-.”

“-kept-,” Bill said helpfully.

“-all because I was…nice.”

Bill shrugged. "Opposites attract?"

You lost consciousness right after you finished laughing. Rest assured, you found the situation more grim than hilarious.

Sighing, Bill walked over to your unconscious form. He sat up and gently picked you up so you rested against his chest.

The urge to smile and grimace fought violently within him.

“This could have been worse.” He confessed, looking at you.

He rested his chin on your head. The desire to smile won. He was happy.

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orbmanson7 · 10 months

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@intrulogical sent me a Logan Angst prompt!

logan crying in a video whilst offering a solution to something and thomas going "stop crying"

I'm still taking Logan Angst prompts from any word or phrase sent to my ask box!

Asking for clarification had become almost habit for him by now.

"Ah, so you didn't mean that literally then?" Logan steadied his expression after the realization struck him. "I suppose this is why clarification is so useful in these discussions."

"There's nothing to clarify, Specs!" Roman threw his hands up dramatically. "It's not like we were trying to trick you!"

Logan blinked at that response. He hadn't thought they were trying to deceive him with their words, no, but it's not as though they had meant what they said, either. Hence the need for clarification.

He nodded towards Roman, replying,

"I understand that, but--"

"Do you?" Roman instantly cut him off. "Because it seems like it takes a million times for us to explain something to you before you actually get it!"

Oh. So he was bothered by Logan's repeated desire for clarification. The quantity was the issue.

"I believe I understand your concern. While some subjects may take extra consideration, I can assure you, I am trying my best."

"Are you?"

Thomas stared back at him with an unreadable expression. Was it unreadable to everyone else, too, or just him?

"Wh..." He was so shocked to hear Thomas outright doubt him like that, he couldn't even formulate the question he wanted to ask. He tried not to let it show, straightening his stance.

Thomas needed his trust, his confidence.

"Of course I am," he told him.

He just needed to be confident. He didn't need to bring more doubt to the topic at hand, after all.

"Princey kind of has a point, though," Thomas only frowned at him. "We've talked about this before, but you never seem to get it. Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?"

"Well, yes, of course," Logan replied as quickly as possible, trying not to sputter over how badly his attempt had just failed. "But it's not as though I have limitless knowledge--"

"Aren't you his language center or whatever it's called?" Virgil piped up. "Isn't this supposed to be your thing?"

"I operate his recognition and use of language, yes," he answered truthfully, "but understanding more than the contextual meaning behind a phrase via facial expression or body language or tone of voice doesn't typically fall to my expertise--"

"Then why are you even doing it?"

"Wh... It... Because it's my job."

He'd never had anyone ask him such a question before, and he wasn't sure there was a better way to answer it.

"And yet," Roman butted in, "you need us to explain what we mean forty times every episode for you to understand? If it's your job, shouldn't you already know how to do that?" He grumbled, crossing his arms. "It's not like I have to relearn how to write every time I have an idea, you know. I already know how to do it. So what's your problem?"

Logan stared. He...wasn't sure there was an adequate answer to that, either. Surely, there was a legitimate reason why pragmatic errors frequented his discussions with others, but if it really was his role to handle that on Thomas' behalf, why was he continuously struggling with it? Why had he not learned about it, held onto that knowledge, and then applied it when the situation arose, just as he had with near everything else?

Why was this different, especially when it so heavily affected his purpose to Thomas?

What was his problem?

Roman laughed.

"What? Cat got your tongue now?"

"...no?" Logan raised an eyebrow, confused. "I still have my tongue and there is no cat to--"

"Logan, seriously, just stop." Thomas held up a hand to stop him. He wasn't even looking at Logan as he spoke. "You're the one always lecturing us about learning stuff but then you don't even understand half of what we're saying unless we spell it out for you!"

Logan bit his lip, willing himself to understand.

"I don't think you'd need to spell anything out, Thomas. I simply ask that you clarify the meaning of--"

"For the love of God, Logan, this is exactly what we're talking about!" Thomas shouted, finally turning to look directly at him.

Logan paused. So this was more of the same, then.

"Ah."

It wasn't just that he was asking too often, it was the matter of his asking at all.

Roman rolled his eyes.

"Boy, and you call me stupid."

"I don't believe I've called you that," Logan responded calmly, then adding, "Today."

Even if it was harsh, at least when he had said that, he meant what he said.

After all, why would someone say something they didn't mean? Wouldn't they want to be understood? To be able to communicate effectively?

When he spoke, he wanted to not only be heard but for others to know what he was trying to convey. Using hidden context served little purpose, and only proved to create massive communication issues like this one.

Logan absently fiddled with the end of his tie.

The others were all looking at him disapprovingly.

He swallowed, but something in his throat felt tight, obstructed. His eyes seemed less focused, slightly blurring around the edges.

He tried to take a proper breath, but it came in shuddering and came back out shaky.

None of these were good signs, at least as far as seeming professional goes.

"Perhaps I have asked for clarification far too often for your liking." Logan paused, expecting to be cut off yet again. When the others didn't respond, he continued, "I merely wish to make sure we're communicating properly, that I'm not misunderstanding your--"

"We shouldn't have to explain it every time!"

And there it was.

Roman and Thomas both began yelling a number of things, but Logan just waited.

Everything they were saying... They were right. Something was definitely wrong here. Logan shouldn't be continuing to struggle if they've all done their part to explain their intention so many times. Why was he still in need of clarification, of assistance? Why hadn't he resolved this on his own already?

He would have to keep trying.

As it quieted down, he turned to Thomas, attempting to hold his gaze without trepidation.

"I... I'll keep trying, then."

"What, so you weren't trying before?" Thomas was so immediately outraged. "How long are we going to have to put up with this?"

"Logan, maybe you just need to try a different way of figuring it out." Patton offered, hands up, placating. "We all know you get stuck in your ways, so maybe just try it our way this time, yeah?"

But doing just that hadn't ended well at all last time. He couldn't have been the only one who remembered that, right? Last time, he was only left confused and ultimately misunderstood by the others when he tried it 'their way'. That couldn't possibly be the solution. No, there had to be something else.

"Well," Logan tried, "I don't know if that would--"

"He's right!" Roman cut in, sounding angry. "You don't even want to get it, do you? Is this an attention thing again??"

Roman moved his arms around in ways that failed to make sense to Logan at all.

"Oh no, Logan needs even more attention now so he has to pretend to be stupid to get even more camera time!"

Logan was completely confused at such a comment. That didn't seem like a fair judge of his conduct at all.

He grimaced,

"I... I would never pretend to--"

"L, it's fine if you're just doing it so you get to talk more," Virgil told him, leaning back casually on the staircase. "I get it, man, but this isn't the way, you know?"

Logan did not 'get it' like Virgil apparently did. Why would someone pretend to not understand something? Why not just be sincere, clarify their confusion so they can get the help they need? What purpose would it serve to lie about it?

"I just..." He wasn't sure how to explain to them that he wasn't pretending without knowing why they thought he was. "That's not... I wouldn't do that--"

"Oh, please." Roman scoffed.

Thomas sighed, putting his face in his hands.

"Logan, the excuses aren't helping, either."

He hadn't meant to bother Thomas with all of this. He was at a loss on what he could do to fix this mess, one he had apparently started all on his own.

He swallowed again, feeling heat begin to rise behind his eyes.

"A-apologies."

Thomas shoved his hands down at his sides. Logan may not have been the best with body language but he could certainly tell his choice to apologize had been the wrong one to make.

Thomas glared at him, something Logan realized he had started to see more often lately. Logan flinched without meaning to, and he couldn't even begin to understand the shiver that had gone through him or what it could possibly mean. His vision blurred.

He could just make out Thomas' expression as it twisted at Logan's knee-jerk reaction, and he suddenly shouted at Logan,

"Ugh, stop crying! Just do better!"

He really hadn't meant to have any overt reaction, but he'd been quite unprepared for this turn of events.

Where had they come up with the idea that he would lie about this? Was this his fault to begin with, for not putting in enough effort to understand, to learn, to improve?

Clearly they had a better understanding than he did, so perhaps they were right. Maybe he was capable of understanding and was simply choosing not to properly learn how to discern the difference in someone's words with how they speak them.

He reached up, removed his glasses, and wiped a palm across his eye, trying to stop the tears that kept flowing. He wasn't entirely sure when he had started crying, either, but now it didn't seem to want to stop.

Thomas was right. Logan had to do better. It was past time he did his job the right way by now, and in the way Thomas wanted above all else.

He put his glasses back on and turned to Thomas, ignoring the last tear escaping down his cheek as he spoke.

"I'll try."

#logan angst #logan sanders #fanfiction #finally something with some dialogue #ooh boy i swear this isn't unsympathetic sides and thomas even if it seems like it #this is genuinely just a very bad reaction to Logan's difficulty with pragmatics #stuff like hyperbole innuendo metaphors irony and sarcasm all change how youre meant to interpret language #so of course logan can understand whats being said but when you change how you say it then it becomes harder for him to understand #when you dont say what you mean you know?#anyway yeah angst fun enjoy #sanders sides #long post #orbs speech bubbles #oh! and i was listening to I'll Try from Peter Pan 2 Return to Neverland when i wrote this #go listen to that and tell me thats not a logan angst song yeah?

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beanghostprincess · 5 months

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Why is shanks/buggy so underrated in this side of fandom? It’s much more loved in Japanese one, one of the most popular for shanks. I feel like this one prefers other mlm options for him and I don’t get it. It got better after OPLA I think but still. Sorry for my English!

Oh! This is actually such an interesting question. I was talking about this the other day and I came to a conclusion with my friend about this. Basically, there are a lot of things to take into consideration here. The screentime, the age of the characters, the chemistry, how they're perceived by the fandom and canonically, etc etc etc.

The first thing I thought about was the screentime, honestly. Shanks and Buggy grew up together and they have a deep bond, however, we've only seen that through flashbacks (one in quite literally episode 8 of the anime, another one in Wano that isn't even about them and they're just side characters in this flashback, and in chapter 1082 of the manga. But it's not even a proper flashback because we already saw that when Shanks talks to Whitebeard about Buggy, it's just Buggy's interpretation of it) and we only have like one scene of them together that isn't even two minutes long. So, quite obviously you'd think "well, the ship isn't as popular as other ships because they barely have any screentime" and I think it's correct but also not quite. And also, this would also have to apply to the Japanese fandom at the end of the day. Fandoms don't give a single fuck about screen time if the chemistry is right, really, but there's always this factor, y'know. Lawlu has less screentime than Zolu and yet it's more popular somehow because people absolutely love their dynamic. Then, if you stop to think about it, both Satosugu (Jjk) and Soukoku (Bsd) have the same dynamic and concept as Shuggy, but they're by far the most popular ships in their fandoms. They're basically the same ships but Jjk and Bsd give them proper development and story because they're shorter series. One Piece is a long show and we still have many things to see, even if we know it's gonna end soon, so I guess that we'll still have to wait to see more of Shuggy. Once we do, I'm sure it'll become more popular. Also, Shanks' personality is very diverse because he's all mysterious and all, so I kind of understand why people don't want to make content because they still don't have him figured out.

But then again, screen time isn't really the problem. It's just one of the factors. If they had more screen time, they'd be more popular for sure, yes, but it's not exactly what makes them less popular in this side of the fandom. Otherwise, it'd be equally as popular on the other sides too. The Japanese side of fandoms is different from this one and tbh they often don't take into consideration things like cancel culture and proship discourse or the standard beauty regarding age because they just post whatever they want and scroll past what they don't like (god I fucking wish we were like that because I am so done with these things). Besides, isn't Buggy like a very beloved character over there, aside from Oda's favorite? At least from what I've seen, they take his character way more seriously than this side of the fandom does, honestly. And it bothers me because he's such a complex and great character, and people never see it because they use him either for memes or to keep saying "omggg turns out the clown is hot!! Can you believe I want to fuck a clow-" yes, Samantha, we know you want to fuck the clown. It's not weird. It's not new. Do you even like the character, at least, or you're just using him to say how kinky and quirky you are? (And I don't even care about the sexualization of characters because, again, fictional characters are fictional characters and you don't have to take everything so seriously. I have tons of characters I don't like that much but only stan because I find them hot and that's alright. But damn, it bothers me sometimes).

Anyway, with this, I wanna say that there are other things to have in mind when talking about this.

Recently (I know it's not exactly new but in fandom years? Recently) there has been a huge thing surrounding the term "old men yaoi". People are so down bad for middle-aged men and they see two of them together and they instantly go "omg they're soo married" but that's- That's it? That's just it. They don't even ship them, they just find the concept of older men hot because "omg he's such a dilf" and they want to fuck both of them. But they never end up doing anything with it. They try to be so groundbreaking like "ohh I am SO woke by shipping these two old men! See? Breaking stereotypes!" because both irl and online, age has always been a very stigmatized thing. Apparently you can't be in a fandom if you're older than 25 because then you're weird, and if there's an actress older than 50 she's instantly useless for the industry.

What I want to say with this is that most people in the fandom are young. They're young and they like attractive, young, hot people and they don't want old, unconventionally attractive men. They don't want them unless it's to give a "hot take" and to be super progressive and woke. Do you know what they like? They like Dilfs. They like Shanks because he's conventionally attractive and good with kids and he's the standard for a Dilf. Because he's hot and mysterious but also silly and quirky and "he's almost forty that is so hot something something daddy kink". And they don't want to see him fucking someone his age because God forbid this man has a personality outside being a Dilf. Younger people in the fandom constantly read y/n fics regarding Shanks because they want him to fuck them and not Buggy. And they can't project in these old men, so they publicly say "oh, Shanks and Buggy are so married" because it's just a fact the fandom made clear, but they don't really like the content. Because liking Buggy sexually, apparently, is just so weird. Or as a character. Nobody wants to say their favorite character is the failguy clown. It's a hot take when you say that Buggy is hot because people keep being all weird about it when... Uh... He's- He's just a clown. Guys. It's not weird. Or bad. Who raised you to think that? God, I find Monet extremely hot and she's half-bird. Could we please normalize these things? They're fictional characters. And also, stop reducing Buggy to his jokes or the fact that he's a clown because his character is GREAT and complex and it just bothers me so much.

This makes me think about this whole "background couple" thing. Which are basically couples that are canon or that are so popular and obvious that people, instead of making content for them (because why would you make content for a canon couple?) just place them in the background instead. There are so many fanfics in which Shuggy is a background couple. Or studies in which, instead of analyzing them, they're used only for parallelisms. This happens with, idk, Saboala? Frobin? Yamace? People don't like couples that everybody agrees on. They don't like m/f ships because they can't be woke!!!!! And queer!!!! (when they easily could but whatever). They don't like ships that everybody likes because!!!!!! They're canon already and why would you write about them???? And so, Shuggy stays a bit more as a side couple instead. For being old and unconventionally unattractive and not having much screentime, but being extremely popular. Not in a "content" way, but in a "knowledge" way. Even the general audience thinks their bond is crucial to the story, c'mon.

One of the differences that this side of the fandom has with the Japanese one, as I mentioned before, is the cancel culture and proship discourse thing. They just don't have that concept. And that's perfect, honestly, I wish we could just scroll past what we don't like too and live peacefully because the discourse is getting tiring. And also you have to admit that, because of the anti propaganda going around, now fandoms have turned into the most puritan thing in the world. Beware! Sex! Age difference between fictional characters that have a consensual and healthy and mature relationship! Oh! God forbid teenagers have sex with people their age! Ohmygodjustshutup. And so, Shuggy isn't a problematic ship. Not even close. But inside the OP world, people do say they are brothers. They keep talking about each other like that, too. And I don't even think it's the typical "we say they're like brothers so you don't think they're gay because they're both guys and guys can't kiss" (I am having flashbacks from the IT fandom). They do have the same parents. Like- We all agree Shanks and Buggy were both raised by Roger and Rayleigh and they consider them, if not their dads, parental figures at least. Right? And you're aware that doesn't make it incest, right? Both things can coexist. Foster families are a thing. Lots of people who grew up together and consider the same people their parental figures end up dating because they don't see each other as siblings. Well, most people don't see it this way and hear the word "brother" and run from it like it's a fucking virus. The Japanese side of the fandom doesn't give a fuck because they're fictional and because they're y'know, not brothers? And even if they were, cancel culture and proship discourse is so fucking stupid to them because they follow the "don't like don't look" thing. But on this side of the fandom, a lot of people see them as brothers and the other half sees them as a divorced couple and apparently nobody knows how to fucking read this manga and have a proper fandom experience without jumping to each other's throats at the minimum disagreement.

So, to summarize: People on this side of the fandom don't like Shuggy THAT much and it isn't such a popular ship in comparison to the Japanese side, because young people don't like older men together, they don't focus on unconventionally attractive characters, are afraid of any little possibility of cancelation, and also, well, Shuggy doesn't have much screentime anyway so there's not much we can do with that.

#oh shit this is long #and i think i got a bit carried away #but yeah i am surprised the ship isn't more famous tbh #also have in mind that people read the manga but a huge side of the fandom are anime only and chapter 1082 is quite important for shuggy #and please PLEASE if you start discourse right now for the proship/anti thing i am going to jump off a bridge do not do that it's dumb #i got a bit angry at the end i am sorry #one piece #shuggy

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candidapple · 2 years

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leona fucks harder when he's jealous which is great because floyd won't shut up about how cute shrimpy looks underneath him. he's not gonna get shown up by some fish, damn it!

cw possessive behavior, rough sex, semi-begrudging polyamory, adult content. minors dni 🔞

leona kingscholar x gn!reader, implied floyd leech x gn!reader

slkjdjf in response to this post.

like, on the one hand, he doesn't have a damn thing to prove, least of all to you. shut the hell up, ruggie on the other hand (the hand he uses to jerk himself off, probably), he is literally thisclose to filleting himself a fucking fish.

he never used to pay much attention to leech beyond that initial, instinctual threat assessment, but what the fuck, was the guy's voice always this goddamn grating? because it's assailing leona's sensitive ears like nails on fucking chalkboard, every other sentence punctuated by that stupid wheezing laugh that sounds a helluva lot hoarser than it ought to, like the guy lost half of his annoying voice doing -- something. going down on you, maybe, eating you out voracious and deep till you lock your fingers up in that stupid blue hair and tug? 'cause the way leech keeps flicking his long, slimy tongue around like he's savoring some lingering aftertaste sure would fucking seem to imply as much.

he considers expending whatever effort it would take to kick the guy's skinny ass -- he's sure got the motivation for it -- but then he thinks of you (feels like all he can fucking think about is you, and what a pain in the ass that is) and that dumb wounded bambi look you'd get on your face if you found out, because you would find out. what he hates the most is how you almost never get mad, just disappointed, and he was supposed to have stopped caring about being a disappointment to literally everyone he's ever met fucking eons ago.

so, fuck it, fine. whatever. he'll just apply himself to another means of venting his considerable frustrations, 'cause that's what everyone's always on his goddamn case about, right? fucking applying himself.

and he applies himself commendably, if he says so his goddamn self. you're just lucky he pulled you out of classes in the middle of the day, so no one's around to hear you shouting yourself hoarse as leona makes a very pointed effort at eating you out till you almost pull a muscle, fangs scraping your thighs and rough tongue twisting you inside out. (you're luckier still that it didn't occur to him to rent a room at octavinelle and fuck you there. just wait, he'll probably think of it one day.)

you might as well resign yourself to having your knees pushed up to your shoulders for hours on end, too. (you really should know by now that stretches are your best friend!) because leona's gonna be applying himself all over you till you forget that anybody else could have possibly come even a little bit close to fucking you as good as him.

(just wait till the news spreads to all your other boyfriends. competitive fucking may not have been a thing before, but it sure as hell is now.)

#leona kingscholar x reader #twst x reader #!candid replies #!candid thirsts

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slashbitch2 · 3 years

Text

Extra Complications

never expected to be crushing on an animated character but here we are

Next Chapter

It was sneaky. Perhaps cheating by some standards. But from your perspective, it was a damn good plan.

Ironically you'd seen the advertisement for the Alchemax internship right after being flung into a wall by the very same woman who'd likely approved the broadcast. Olivia Octavius, or Doc Ock as you ought to refer to her in costume. Though she'd given you little time to read up on 'how to apply', as moments later a car was thrown in your direction, which was very inconsiderate of her, but was also all the persuasion you needed.

At this point, you'd be willing to do anything if it contributed to thwarting her, surely, very evil plan. Of course you admired the woman for her general genius and eccentricity, but the constant unprovoked conflict was becoming tiresome. It felt as if she were trying to determine how much of a threat you posed, whereas, you liked to think your legacy as 'that Spider-Person who sometimes saves the day' was all the evidence necessary.

Honestly, you weren't certain as to what exactly her, no doubt, villainous plan entailed besides patrolling the streets in green swimming goggles and black spandex with ridiculous plastic tubes jutting out of her back. In fact, it was ridiculous that no one had made any attempt to stop her yet. Unlike your identity, kept secret by a more modest spandex suit, hers was public knowledge.

Sometimes, it seemed as though you were the enemy here.

Which is precisely why infiltrating her team of scientists was more than appropriate. You were about to single handily take down an international threat, one hidden in plain sight, but left untouched due to the company's vast money, leverage and prestige.

Someday the city would thank you for your many sacrifices. Specifically for voluntarily working another job without pay. Y/N Y/L/N, broke intern by day, friendly neighbourhood Spider-Person by night.

"Excuse me?" A voice called from the left, your vision of them obstructed by an inconveniently placed potted plant. "Are you the new intern?" The person stepped closer, briefly glancing up at you, then back down at a sheet of paper. "Y/N Y/L/N?" The woman's timid appearance hardly screamed villainous scientist, but then again, looks can be deceiving.

"Yes, that's me." You stood, reaching out to shake her hand.

She sighed in relief, shaking your hand a tad too enthusiastically. "Lovely to meet you. I'm Marie and I'll be getting you settled in for the first few days."

A spark of disappointment flashed across your mind. Olivia hadn't been there for your interview, nor had any sway in your hiring, and now she wasn't even the person greeting you on your first day. Although you had no right to be, you felt rather offended by the lack of challenge she was providing. It was almost too easy.

---

To be fair, Marie was the perfect candidate to give you a tour of the facility. She was kind and patient, but not condescending. She seldom spoke beyond what was required of her, unless you asked something work related, when her lengthy response would affirm her status as an epicure of scientific knowledge. By midday, you'd decided she was someone to befriend, and subsequently accepted her invitation to have lunch together.

You were also hoping that the team would eat lunch as a group, but alas, more disappointment. Instead, you spent the break sitting in an awkward silence with Marie, who seemed to loose basic communication skills when presented with food. In spite of her lack of engagement, you still took the opportunity to try and ascertain information about the project you'd be working on, though each time she expertly diverted the interrogation, or ignored your question entirely.

Who knew working for an evil, secretive corporation would be so boring?

It was a test of patience to be sitting in the same building as Olivia Octavius, while forced to shadow an incredibly kind, but slow eating woman. Realistically, you knew there'd be plenty of time to investigate, though you were reluctant to end the day without any progress. So, while Marie was still distracted by her lunch, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

She dismissively approved with a wave of her hand, allowing you to slip away from the dining hall. You vaguely remembered the location of Olivia's office as being on the top floor, indicated by Marie's imprecise pointing. She'd explained that very few had clearance to get in, but you'd already thought of a way to get passed the security.

Who aside from the highest ranking scientists had access to every room? Janitors, of course. Because, for some reason, cleanliness was more important than security.

It didn't take long to locate a cleaner, or much effort to pickpocket the security card. To be on the safe side, you even had an excuse ready: that the man had dropped it, that you were simply looking for him to return it. And if Olivia caught you in her office, well, she wouldn't (Spider-Senses and all). Again, it was almost too easy.

There was a minatory silence as you walked along the final corridor toward her office. Part of you felt as though this was some kind of elaborate trap, the repeated phrase 'too easy' coming to mind as you reached the door. Though the logical part of you must've known this was a fatuous suggestion, and took control.

With a final pause to confirm nobody was approaching, or was already waiting inside, you scanned the key card. The action was rewarded with a satisfactory beep, followed by the door sliding open so fast it appeared to have vanished.

The office was smaller than you anticipated. Or maybe it was the bareness of the room that caught you off guard. The woman was insane, yet her work area hardly reflected her deranged mental state. Everything was so perfectly neat that you began to wonder if you'd actually walked onto a movie set, or a photoshoot, which would've explained the strange ring lights hanging from the ceiling.

Upon reaching the centre of the room, you were struck by the realisation that you truthfully had no reason to be here. Even if the office had been as messy as you'd expected, it was unlikely that she'd leave her super evil plans lying around. Rather, It'd been some morbid curiosity that had lured you here. To see where The Doc Ock worked, where the alter ego was likely created. The reality was underwhelming to say the least.

Deciding that you'd spent enough time admiring an incredibly bland office, you exited back out into the empty corridor, nonchalantly throwing the security card behind you, certain someone would eventually return it. Then, as if right on cue, you sensed somebody approaching, soon followed by footsteps resonating from around the corner. With no way of avoiding them, you kept your head down with the intention of blending in.

Olivia Octavius rounded the corner, not sparing a glance up. She was frowning at a piece of paper, her full attention directed to it, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Instinctively, your entire body tensed at the sight of her lithe frame and mass of hair spilling out of its messy bun. Any other circumstance and you'd have fled by now, through a vent, out of the window, it didn't matter. Though you had to remind yourself that there was no reason to be afraid now. There was no possible way she could know your identity.

Nonetheless, as you passed her with less than a metre of space, you held your breath. She said nothing and you both kept walking in opposite directions.

It seemed the coast was clear. You released the breath you'd been holding and kept moving until. "Hey, wait a minute."

You froze, aching to ignore her and escape. Her voice was deep, more so than you were prepared for. While fighting, few words were exchanged, and even then they were unintelligible. Although, now was the worst time to be thinking about previous interactions, so with much difficulty, you cleared your mind. As far as anyone knew, including yourself, you were just the intern.

You ran a hand through your hair nervously, straightening out your lab coat and turning to face her. She was stood at the far end of the long white corridor, entirely unthreatening when compared to Doc Ock, who would've loomed over you menacingly.

Remembering the role you were meant to be playing, you choked out a response. "How can I be of assistance?"

"You're the new intern, right?"

"Yeah." You considered approaching to shake her hand, but the idea of awkwardly marching the length of the corridor to greet her was rather unappealing. "That's me." You settled for a polite smile and shoulder shrug instead.

She screwed up her face in consideration before crooking a finger. "Come with me."

Swallowing any concern, you nodded hesitantly. The prospect of returning to the office you'd broken into only moments ago had you dragging your feet.

She waited patiently until you were by her side to continue. "Don't worry." She scanned her key card. "I don't bite." Her tone was playful, her eyes kindly mocking.

"Good to know." You muttered, following her inside. You took a second to look around the room with mock curiosity, feeling her eyes trace your every move. Like a predator, eyeing up its prey, determining your weaknesses. Unlike the encounters with Doc Ock, it was uncertain who had the high ground here. Her gaze was putting you on edge, not dissimilar to how your character of 'the intern' would react.

"So..." She shuffled some papers around on the desk, finding what looked to be your application. "Ms. Y/L/N right?"

You confirmed with a nod, summoning the resolve to amble toward her desk.

"Take a seat." She gestured to the chair opposite, letting you sit before proceeding. "Tell me about yourself, Y/N."

You started to think of an adequate answer, but she interrupted a second later, contradicting her initial inquiry. "Are you okay with me calling you Y/N?" She leant her head on a closed fist, narrowing her eyes.

Although the question sounded considerate, you didn't feel the implied sincerity. Even if you wanted to say no, that didn't feel like a suitable response. "Sure."

Somehow, it felt like she was establishing dominance through the polite act, and combined with being under her scrutinising glare, the performance was working.

"Great." Suddenly, she leant back in her chair, all evidence of the hostile act disappearing instantaneously.

"What'd you want to know?" Mirroring her relaxed posture, you attempted to re-establish some control.

"Oh, anything." A flicker of something passed in her eyes, piqued interest possibly?

You began routinely rattling off some basic facts about yourself, nothing too specific or personal. Facts that would answer any follow up questions she might have, and yet said nothing about you. Surprisingly, she seemed hooked on your every word. The thought crossed your mind that this might be the real interview, that everything else up to this point had been a sham. But you settled on a more unsettling justification. That she was committing everything you said to memory.

Coming to the end of the informative monologue, you decided to take a risk. "Do I get to ask a question?" You raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Inquisitive. I like that." She stated, folding her arms on the desk. "Go ahead."

You decided to see how far you could push your luck. "Tell me about yourself." You smugly repeated her vague first query. It was the Doctor's turn to come up with an answer to the ambiguous demand.

She scoffed, realising your plan to make her struggle. "Touché. But I'm rather busy, so how about you pick a more specific question."

Narrowing it down, there was only one thing you wanted to ask. "Can I see the-" You waved your arms around, imitating tentacles. "the suit?"

She chuckled, slowly standing. Judging from her lack of surprise, this was likely a request she'd heard many times.

First, she removed her glasses. Then slipped out of her lab coat. Next to go was the shirt, which she pulled over her head while maintaining eye contact. You wanted to look away, out of respect, yet you didn't. Without the shirt, you noticed she was already wearing the suit underneath and had the harness strapped to her back, confirming your suspicion that she always had access to the weapon. As she was stepping out of her trousers, the arms (tentacles?) inflated, and within moments were threateningly extending to their full potential.

She smiled proudly, enjoying your stunned expression. "As good as you expected?"

"Better." Unable to resist any longer, you stood to investigate the suit in further detail. You'd never seen it stationary, or had the opportunity to try and gauge the details of how it worked. Although you argued this would be beneficial for your next fight, in reality you just wanted to admire the contraption. You circled round, marvelling at the simplicity of the design. It was convenient, yet elegant. "It's beautiful."

Coming to a stop in front of Olivia, she had an unreadable expression. A mix of emotions, most prominently confusion. To your delight, a faint blush coloured her cheeks. Whatever unspoken game you'd been playing, you were winning, or were until she said. "How'd you like to intern for me?"

You quickly recovered. "I already do."

"No." She sighed. "I mean personally. As my assistant? You'd get your own desk, an almost guaranteed job at the end of it and so much more experience than you'd bargained for." She leant forward, a little too close for comfort. There was an unhinged look in her eyes more reminiscent of Doc Ock that both convinced and deterred you. "So what'd you say?"

She genuinely wanted you to work with her.

This hadn't been part of the plan. You'd expected to spend no longer than a few months working at Alchemax. To uncover their evil scheme, figure out how to stop it and hopefully take down the company. An optimistic plan, sure, but one you'd been assured you'd stick to. Although, the opportunity to work closely with Olivia Octavian, with the Doc Ock, was too good to pass on. Not to mention, infinitely more interesting.

You grinned, embracing the insanity that your answer would incur. "I'd love to."

She clapped her hands together. "Great!" Then offered her hand for you to shake formally. "I'll sort out the paperwork and details this evening, but right now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

She left before you had the chance to say anything else, still in her suit, which left you confused for the following half hour. You finally understood upon catching a glimpse of a news alert on your phone.

Doc Ock Seizes Bank, Has Taken Hostages!

You sighed. Today was going to be a long day, and things were only going to get more complicated.

#olivia octavius x reader #olivia octavius

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pavo-ocell-me · 3 years

Text

Diluc x GN!Reader Soulmate AU, ~3k 》 Angst

Warnings: mentions of blood and death, mild kidnapping (you're accosted into an alley), Diluc being a little bit of a dick

》 Next part || part of my blog event

Thank you to @defamnatiob for betareading!

The archons gifted elemental visions to a small amount of Teyvat's citizens, so they sprinkled in a little something for the rest of the populus. Visions of a soulmate, someone who is meant to complete you like no one else can. However, it saddened the archons that some died without ever meeting their soulmate, so the former electro archon suggested to stop people from aging until they had. The citizens of Teyvat seemed to believe eighteen was the age children became independent, so they opted to halt their growth at eighteen until they found their other half. Fittingly, the humans decided to call it the Halting. Of course, those that receive visions (of the elemental sort) have been alternatively blessed, and stop receiving images of their soulmate as long as it is in use. That last condition was unknown to most except Diluc Ragnvindr.

》▪︎《

When he was younger, Diluc was ecstatic to meet his soulmate. He had a fantastic brother and his soulmate was a sight to behold. Your hair, your eyes, and your smile filled his thoughts as he grew, taking his studies as seriously as possible to be able to offer you a good life with him. He was sad to stop seeing you when he received his pyro vision, but spun it as a way to better protect you. You'd just surprise him when he grew older, he supposed. He was young and eager, seeing his world through you-tinted glasses.

Unfortunately, at what was meant to be the happiest time of his life, those glasses were shattered. Diluc was 18 when his father, Crepus, died before him. Every time he looks in the mirror, he is reminded of his father's delusion backfiring and his blood-covered lips forming words of reassurance before he passed. He is reminded that his brother, a man of power in Mond's most prestigious organization, is a sleeper agent from Kahnreai'ah. He is reminded of you at all hours of the day, his soulmate visions having returned as a result of discarding his pyro powers. He is reminded that he can never grow, that he is perpetually stuck in the past, because of his soulmate.

》▪︎《

Years later, Diluc was really feeling the effect of the Halting. Sure, it was embarrassing to give orders to employees that had already met their soulmate, causing a considerable difference in appearances after a while, but the main issue was his reflection. It had rained that night, and seeing his own stoic countenance in a mirror served only as a reminder of his face staring up at him from the crimson-stained puddle in the road. Instead of his signature neutral expression, he saw his own features, twisted in agony, slowly being clouded by his father's blood.

Often when these flashbacks occur, servants took notice.

"Master Diluc! Thinking about your soulmate? I'm sure you can't wait to start aging with them."

He'd come out of his trance and respond with a low, noncommittal hum. They took it as agreement, continuing their work with a smile, completely unaware of the scowl Diluc wore at the mention of his fated one.

》▪︎《

You'd applied for a job under the Qixing the day you met the age requirement, knowing there'd be difficulty garnering respect if the disparity between your age and appearance was too great. All your life, you'd honed your skills in the art of bureaucracy, especially with Yanfei as a childhood friend. She gave you as much help as you would allow, and between her help and your expertise, you quickly climbed the ranks and were working directly under Ningguang. In fact, you were one of her trusted Three, right hand to the Qixing and allowed into the Jade Palace to work on her wall of secrets.

Ningguang's three confidants all had visions of their own. Your colleagues were able to create Freeze reactions through use of their cryo and hydro visions or Crystallize when fighting with Ninnguang, but yours seemed to dominate in being able to invoke Swirl reactions with your anemo vision regardless who you fought with. Sometimes, you'd have a bit of yearly fun by affecting the winds when Ningguang discarded her confidential papers, causing sheets to flit just out of passerby's reach.

When you were given leave, the majority of your day was spent assisting Yanfei both in her law practice and in combat, your visions working together.

You'd noticed that your soulmate had gained a pyro vision and were happy to receive the insight into his character and excited to battle alongside him.

》▪︎《

Ningguang was to host a diplomatic banquet to negotiate the terms of the coming year with the Fatui, so you were busier than ever. While your colleagues handled the Fatui correspondence and drafted contracts, you were in charge of the mora. An oversimplification, really, but the scope of your duties was just as broad as the term "finance". After having secured the venue and Liyuean caterers, Ningguang requested you travel to Mondstadt to import cases of Dandelion wine, and hopefully return with a standing contract in tow.

The twelfth harbinger was dispatched to accompany you as a show of good faith. All you knew was that her first name was Lorelei and that you had two things in common: your country of residence and your vision. It unsettled you a bit to share an element with a harbinger, but you supposed that two people with strong anemo powers wouldn't do half bad in a mountainous region like Liyue. You could already imagine your hydro-wielding coworker groaning at the paperwork as treasure hoarders are brought in from the bottom of mountains with a suspicious amount of broken bones.

It seemed your traveling companion had come to the same conclusion, royal purple eyes glinting in delight as she stared at your vision.

Saying your farewells to your superior and coworkers, you shifted the weight of your pack and climbed the stairs. Lorelei was, annoyingly, a few paces ahead of you with her long legs. That smirk is going to test my patience, isn't it, you seethed silently.

Although your party of two had just set out, your seething was no longer silent. Instead, for every passive-aggressive comment you had, she had some scathing, smug retort and a sultry smirk. In all honesty, she was unreasonably attractive. She had flowing teal hair and long rabbit ears to match, both of which framed her olive skin and amethyst eyes. Her smirk and innuendos countered all that though, as well as her ability to turn a conversation. You'd thought you were a cautious conversationalist, having spent years among the Liyue Qixing, but by end of day one Lorelei had managed to turn every question directed at her into you answering several questions of her own.

However, she was kind enough to grant you few reprieves as she mused aloud about scattered ruins and towering mountains, sparking soothing discussions of Liyue's mysteries, past and current.

The appearance of the Wangshu Inn marked the halfway point of your journey, and your first night of linens and pillow fluff after sleeping it rough for a while.

You came up behind the Dawn Winery, having taken the northern path to skirt around Dragonspine. Lorelei left you with a mischievous smile and a playful breeze when the vineyard came into view. Shaking your head, you walked to the front of the establishment, breathing in the sweet air. The abundant greenery was so different compared to Liyue Harbour, the scent of leaves and fruits a refreshing change of pace from the smell of Mora, paperwork, and street food.

You knew your soulmate was in Mondstadt, having seen the framing of his vision before you received your own. His hair was too distinct a color to be worried about missing him even though you hadn't seen him since receiving your own anemo vision. Of course, this was a two-way street. Since you were young, you'd worn a handmade tasseled necklace. Thankfully your youthful hand was guided by Xingxi, otherwise your plan of having a defining outward trait would have been foiled by a child's eccentric taste being unable to follow you into your career.

You rounded the manor after a quick stroll amongst the grapevines, knowing you were on a schedule. A few Knights of Favonius awaited your arrival. One in particular seemed a bit bristled and asked where your escort had gone, brow furrowing when you told her the harbinger had left. Funnily enough, the one who'd asked about your fatui escort was your assigned detail while in Mondstadt.

After getting greetings out of the way, you raised the hefty door knocker and knocked thrice before ensuring your papers were easily accessible.

A maid opened the door, directing you into the mansion. Most of the knights departed then. Only your escort remained as you were taken to a private meeting room on the second floor. The maid opened the door and held it for you.

"Mr. Ragnvindr—" You looked up. Ruby eyes glinted through a hard-set expression and dark clothes. A pyro vision glowed amongst the black furs and belts of his impressive coat. His hair blazed in the high noon sunlight streaming through the intricate windows. Those were some really nice windows— wait. Blazing hair.

In the split second it took you to take him in, you knew it was him. Instinctively, your hand quickly fingered your necklace, turning the jade pendant over and over. You noticed him stiffen when you did so, but not out of elated surprise, this felt more... scared. As scared as he could look with that stony face.

Only a moment had passed, but a long enough moment that your escort shifted her weight and cleared her throat.

You snapped out of it, swiftly removing your hand from the pendant and hiding your excitement with professionalism.

"Hello. My name is Y/N, and I've brought you something in the spirit of business," you said with a smile.

His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.

"Please, call me Diluc. Thank you, I'll take a look at it after the proceedings," the box was handed to a maid and ushered out the room. "What are your terms?"

Throughout the meeting, he pointedly avoided looking at your necklace, and did his damndest not to look you in the eye either. The papers, the wood grain of the table, anything not to look at you too long. Had his expression changed at all throughout the deal, you might have felt he was more nervous than disgusted, but you were not so fortunate. The deal was closed, both parties gaining some and losing some. However, you exited the winery feeling as if you'd lost something far more important than mora.

》▪︎《

Diluc ran a gloved hand through his hair. His skin was paler than usual, his mind working overtime to accept he'd just met his soulmate. As angry as he was, he decided to open the gift he'd been presented.

"Greetings, Mr. Ragnvindr! This show of good faith contains several liyue-native ingredients you might find a use for. The traveler told me of your penchant for experimentation, I hope these aid your efforts!

List of contents:

Whole silk flowers

Glaze Lilies

Qingxin Flowers

Geovishap cuts

Jueyun chilis

I collected them all myself! If you'd like more of any ingredient we've provided, let me know and I'd be happy to send some to you in the future."

He sighed again. *"Not only are they business-savvy, combat-capable, and a vision wielder, but they're considerate and do their research. It's almost a shame."* Their excitement at finding him made him nervous, but he was pleasantly surprised they went forth with the deal instead of discussing the mitachurl in the room. Storming into the R&D section of the winery, he placed the box down unceremoniously, gritted out "New materials," and stormed back out. His subordinates were confused since Diluc normally preferred to be present during experimentation, but they opted to let it lie rather than risk their jobs, or perhaps their lives if his furrowed brow was anything to go by.

》▪︎《

The deal had only taken a few hours to complete, but Ningguang felt a single day would have been a waste of a trip and insisted you take a couple weeks off to unwind and possibly find your soulmate.

You sure did meet him, but the way he bristled concerned you. Perhaps he just needed time to come around. Unfortunately, you'd find out how difficult Diluc was willing to be in the coming weeks.

The entire trip was spent sightseeing and being dismissed by the man meant to love you til the end of your days. It didn't help that you'd made an arrangement with the Favonius Cavalry Captain to meet at the tavern every night. Kaeya quickly told you of Diluc's distaste for him, and your heart clenched realizing that even when ordering drinks, Diluc is more amicable to Kaeya than you. He refuses to make eye contact with you and looks only at his brother, only making your drink if he orders it.

Everything you did infuriated him. You were perfect. You never ordered alcohol. You helped everyone who asked. You got along well with the children of Mondstadt. By the Abyss, you gave Flora an official checking book from the Ministry of Civil Affairs. You frequently helped adventurers with commissions and refused a cut of the loot. You never once disrespected Barbatos despite Liyue's general disapproval of his absence, in fact, you actively asked questions about his history and ideals. What else, would you have an interest in his business? Unfortunately for him, in an attempt to talk to him more, you'd ask him questions and tell him things you'd learned about the fermentation process while he pointedly ignored you at the bar. You were persistent, but not pushy. You always backed off, and he found himself upset when you stopped trying near the end of your stay.

The moon was high above the gates of Mondstadt, where a certain Cavalry Captain was arriving at his arranged meeting spot with Diluc. Normally, Diluc would never send such an invitation, and Kaeya would never accept if he did, but this soulmate business was far too entertaining to ignore.

"Brother," the knight teased, "whatever could have brought you so low you had to ask my assistance?"

"Don't call me that." With a look at the clearly-eavesdropping guards at the gate, he turned. "Walk with me."

For the first time in years, Mondstadt watched over the estranged brothers as Diluc confronted his past. Not all of it, mind you, but enough to get him thinking. Kaeya honestly really liked you and thought you were good for Diluc. Not to mention he'd get to keep his new drinking buddy.

The Darknight Hero was not seen that day, it seems Mondstadt was able to keep the monsters away long enough for Diluc to talk soulmate with his brother.

》▪︎《

Noelle had ever-so-neatly packed your bags, you were simply saying goodbyes and packing the carriage. While you didn't have a lot of luggage, enough to walk with, the carriage would take you part of the way and who were you to refuse?

Kaeya was awfully cheeky during his farewell, visible eye sparkling with some unknown delight. Jean and the other knights offered to send a full party with you, but you opted to stick with your escort, Eir. She was a pleasant conversation partner but remained reserved, perfect for a calmer return to Liyue than your arrival had been. You had hefted the last pack onto the carriage when—

》▪︎《

Diluc felt he'd had enough of talk. But he'd push through one last conversation about his fated one. He darted from the alley, bringing one arm to wrap around your shoulders and his free hand to your mouth. Pulling you into the alley, the hand over your face made a quick rude gesture at the Cavalry Captain who was waving coyly. The price of a few slipped yells of confusion was worth the satisfaction it gave Diluc.

Once hidden from the street, he turned you swiftly, spinning you in place. The disorientation quieted you for a moment, but your vision activated in self defense.

You stumbled away from your attacker, dazed, dizzy, and distressed. Quickly, you drew an arrow and hurled it, your vision curving the throw. His own vision burnt the arrow as it came between his eyes, but not without losing a few pieces of his bangs. Archons, he liked you.

You came to with a shake of your head and fervently apologized, reaching for his hair before stopping yourself. Your hands wringed before you as you avoided eye contact, taking his moment of silence as distaste. The beat of quiet he afforded you gave you the chance to process what had happened.

"Diluc grabbed me. Why? And the way he did it was a little intimate... wait. His arms are really nice. And his chest. And he smells like ashy oak and grapevines— focus."

"I don't know why you brought me here, but I'm about to depart so I really must be going—"

"Wait. Please."

The first words he'd said to you outside of a professional setting. Ruby eyes shone in your direction with genuine emotion for the first time, although you couldn't quite name what you saw in them. His fingers had gently caught your sleeve, giving you an escape if you chose not to hear him out. But with a voice like that, you couldn't refuse him even if you wanted to.

Diluc sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, but kept your sleeve pinched between his midway pointer and middle knuckles.

"Nothing can excuse my actions these past weeks. I'm sure you could tell I knew who you were when we first met and I can't help but feel like I should have confronted it then. Not you, but my own issue with my soulmate. I'll be honest, I didn't want you," he quickly recovers after seeing your hopeful expression falter, "but I can see now that I will. I cannot accept... this... just yet. One day I believe I will be able to, but it won't be anytime soon."

"Diluc, I..."

"Please, don't respond. All I want is you to promise me you will not wait for me."

"Are you sure? You know how binding a promise is in Liyue," you cautioned. You didn't want to date anyone else while he healed, but your word was your bond.

"I... no. No, I'm not sure. Let's settle for a tentative agreement," he relented with a breath of a laugh.

You moved your hand, removing your sleeve from his fingers, barely catching the slight furrow of his brow.

Stepping closer, you grabbed his hand. He frowned, seeming to have an internal conflict at touching you.

A light laugh, a quick movement, and you were shaking on it. "How absurd", he mused to himself, "to be in an alleyway shaking hands on an agreement to be distant with my soulmate."

Your voice brought him to the present. "I really must be going, they'll be wondering where I'm off to. I look forward to doing business with you, Diluc Ragnvindr."

Your smile hurt his heart. It clenched with sorrow while his mind screamed with rage.

"And I you," he said softly, no longer trusting his voice to retain its impassive quality.

He watched the carriage depart from the safety of Mondstadt, deciding then that his heart had been protected long enough. He had something new to strive for, to heal for. With a breath of the sudden gentle breeze, his brow relaxed and he waited there, calmly, until the carriage left his sight.

#》▪︎pavo writes #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc #genshin soulmate au #diluc soulmate au

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liibrii · 3 years

Text

fem!Miya!reader x Ginjima Hitoshi & Akagi Michinari || part of the Third Miya series

Synopsis: It’s just a courage test. Just a nightly walk through a labyrinth of statues. Even the moon refuses to peek out from behind to clouds to witness your stupidity. Oh, did I mention there've been ghosts sighting here? There've been ghost sightings here.

Warnings: cursing, some spooky atmosphere, spooky things happen, some prime examples of sibling love

wc: 2.3k

a/n: should I post this chapter after the one establishing Reader's friendship with the team? Yeah, probably. also what I could do is write a little author's note that Reader is a friend with all the boys on the team and move on from there, ya know?

In case you missed previous chapters, Twins call their sister San, while others simply refer to her as Miya. (I'm experimenting and trying to use y/n as little as possible. lemme know if you like it).

if you wanna be tagged in future chapters lemme know and as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

Nothing scared you.

Well, except Mr-No-Gaps Kita Shinsuke but you're pretty sure there isn't a being on this planet that wouldn't be afraid of him so that disqualifies him from this particular competition; or mom that one time she discovered nobody had taken the trash out even though she said to do it several times. And the dark sometimes. And ghosts! Ghosts are spooky. You can't punch a ghost

But other than that nothing scared you.

This nightly walk though is making you reconsider the statement. Maybe the time has come for you to put 'dark' and 'weird noises whose origin you can't see' to the top of the list. Shivers run up your spine and you step faster, closer to Ginjima beside you. He gives you a questioning glance but luckily doesn't say anything. You hope he won't mention it later either. The only thing worse than your brothers finding out what a scaredy cat you're being right now is... Well, nothing would be worse than that.

The Gallery Tangle is what this place is called and you find the name strangely fitting. Stone statues, some crumbling and all overgrown with moss, stand lined by the path going in twists and turns. No matter where you turn cold unseeing eyes watch you. If you were the one choosing the name for this place it would be something along the lines of 'that corner nobody in their right mind would ever go close too'. Some people believe it used to be a cemetery but really it's just a meadow where someone left an unwanted statue once, and then another, and before you knew crowds of curious tourists and stupid teenagers visited the place all the time. Even the moon refuses to peek out from behind to clouds to witness your stupidity. Oh, did I mention there've been ghosts sighting here? There've been ghost sightings here.

So naturally it's the perfect place for a courage test. The only one at fault for this entire situation is Osamu for daring Akagi and Ginjima to go visit the site, and you for falling for his trap when he turned to you and, with that annoyingly sweet voice pretending he's a caring older brother who's just looking out for his little sister, said: “Thank the heaven yer too much of a baby to go out of the house after sunset.“

Yeah well, maybe you are and he knows it, and he also knows the easiest way to get you to do something is to tell you you don't have the guts. It's all a well tested trap you keep falling into. Walking amongst countless silent statues you want to ponder how the mice traps are always so obvious and yet the mice keep falling for them like dummies, but that would be a silly thought to have in the middle of the night and taking your current circumstances into consideration also incredibly hypocritical.

Nothing much scared you, except for Kita Shinsuke, but if you were given a chance to get help from one person right now you'd chose him. As much as the mere thought of him makes you straighten up and check if your clothes are on point you're sure ghosts and demons and other creatures of the night would rethink once or twice before coming closer to bother you. Not to be rude but he'd probably be a better ghost repellent than trembling Ginjima beside you who at the moment is being more of a ghost attractor. Can ghosts sense fear? Apparently even horses can smell fear so why would ghosts be any different? Maybe better for that question to go unanswered.

“Are ya sure we're goin' in the right direction?“ asks Gin.

“Maybe.“

“Akagi-san ya do know that's not the answer we wanna hear right now, right?“

“I'm yer senpai so I can't lie to ya,“ answers Akagi and you wish he wasn't your senpai so you could give him the well deserved kick in the shin. As Osamu would put it, getting a straight answer out of him was sometimes harder than eating udon noodles with only one chopstick. Your smart-ass replied with 'Just drink them', which was a funny response at the time, a justifiable enough reason for Osamu to slap your head, but in the end this solution didn't really apply to the libero. “We're takin' a little detour to avoid inhabitants of this place,“ Akagi says and if you didn't know him better you'd think his words were meant to reassure you.

“Ya mean the statues? I don't think they really mind us trespassin'.“

“Ah no, not the statues.“ He turns and points his torch up to light up his face. “I meant ghosts.“

“Ha ha, very funny,“ you say pretending a shiver didn't just run up your spine. Your hold on your own torch tightens.

“Skepticism doesn't suit ya Miya. There's a ghost of a little boy hidin' round here. Ever since his old house was demolished he walks around lookin' for his parents.“

“Sure he does,“ you answer and quickly change the topic because if Akagi doesn't stop you're sure Gin will climb in your arms and the question if you're strong enough to carry him is another one you don't want to know the answer to. “Where did Samu say he left the scarf?“

When Ginjima answers his voice is strangely high pitched: “By the statue of an old lady with a cat.“

Akagi nods. “We should split up so-“

“No!“ you and Ginjima half yell.

“We could get lost,“ you add, feeling heat rise on your cheeks.

“Exactly,“ Ginjima agrees, “look how many statues there are! It's a labyrinth 'round here!“

Akagi gives in without much convincing with a gleam in his eyes you really don't like because it looks suspiciously similar to the gleam Atsumu has before blackmailing you with one of too many embarrassing things he knows. “Right, right, last time I was here the cat lady was on the other end.“

“Was?“ Ginjima follows close behind and you're just glad to have you back covered.

“Statues move sometimes. Usually when no one is lookin'.“

“Funny,“ is all you say.

Still, as you continue the expedition you don't let your gaze wander around. It's not like you could see anything anyway. It's too dark! At least that's what you keep telling yourself. Anything could hide out there.

You shudder. Why did you think it was a good idea to leave without taking a hoodie? As if summer nights aren't chilly. Or maybe you just walked past a cold spot where ghosts linger. Now that sounds like something Akagi would tell you.

You're acutely aware of how close Ginjima is walking and you're glad he is. His shoulder bumping into yours every now and then and the sound of his steps are the last things keeping you from letting your imagination run free.

That's the thing about imagination. It makes the pile of unfolded clothes look like a child crawling out of the floor. It makes sitting stone statues seem to blink and turn their heads when you pass by.

When you nervously glance over at Ginjima you notice he's clenching his jaw so hard you start fearing for his teeth. He puts you at ease. As much as that is possible while walking in the dead of night around seemingly endless line of statues. If he was as carefree as Akagi you would, all your foolish pride be damned, most likely burst into tears right then and there.

The nearby bushes rustle and maybe it's just the wind, or a cat on a nightly adventure, or maybe it's something entirely different, but whatever it is lures you into making the mistake of looking over at the statues, where you catch a pale face with unblinking eyes behind long, black hair staring back at you. You scream. Jump, trip over a stone and end in Ginjima's arms, your ears ringing from the high pitched shriek you presume is his.

Akagi jumps too and points his torch around to see what made both of you finally lose the brave facade. He searches around the statues but there's nothing to be found. “It's gone now.“

“Ya sure?“

“What was it?“

“A white face and... black hair.“

“So, a ghost?“ asks Akagi and you nod, holding tightly on Gin as if your life depended on it. A sly smile spreads across Akagi's face. “See, I told ya there's ghosts.“

“Not helpin' ,“ says Gin as Akagi's words make you shudder.

Only then does it hit you Ginjima is holding you bridal style and you swiftly climb back down, still shaken and now completely embarrassed as well. You don't even dare think how much bribing will take to convince Akagi to keep his mouth shut about this. Oh, if your brothers find out they will never let you live it down.

“Maybe we should go home,“ suggests Ginjima still holding you up because your knees turned to pudding.

“Like hell we are,“ you sneer, the blood rush turning fear into burning determination. If this is what it takes to shut Samu's annoying shit mouth, then so be it. “Cat lady, right? I bet she's this way.“ You pick up your torch light and head into the wrong direction.

“Miya, we have to go right,“ Akagi calls after you.

“I am goin' right!“

“The other right.“

You turn on your heels and head into the 'other right' direction. You think you hear Akagi snicker. Step by step your sudden burst of determination and fearlessness drains but like hell are you going to show it. It's just ghosts and spooky demons and maybe some cursed children, what are they going to do? Scare you? Joke's on them, you're already scared! And cold, and embarrassed, and you just want to find that damn scarf already and go home.

It waits neatly wrapped around the cat's neck. It's eyes have an almost mocking look. As if the stone is judging you for taking on this courage test in the first place. Well, you think, it ain't wrong.

“There, now we can go,“ you proclaim when your trembling fingers finally manage to unknot the silky fabric, and as if some cruel fate or inhabitants of this eerie place watched you only a few statues away something rustles.

All three of you freeze and listen. In the distance you can hear cars driving by. A late night train stops by the station.

“What was that?“ asks Gin.

You stuff the scarf into your pocket. “Doesn't matter, we got what we-“

“Let's go check it out!“

“O hell no,“ is the first thing that leaves your mouth but for some reason Akagi thinks it's a sunny Sunday afternoon and the perfect time for a stroll.

“Let's go,“ Gin nudges you to get you to follow Akagi but you don't budge.

“No.“

“He's our senpai Miya, we can't just let him wander off.“ He lowers his voice. “He might get in trouble.“

“Let him. I've had enough of this place,“ you say and head into the opposite direction. Ginjima hesitates, casts a few lost glances between you and Akagi before he decides the prospect of something happening to you would get him into much bigger trouble. “Are ya okay?“ he asks when he catches up.

You give a stiff nod. All you want is to get away from this place.

It doesn't take long for Akagi to come running back. “It was nothin',“ he says, out of breath and smiling as always but if you'd pay more attention you'd notice he's a bit paler.

And you are about to find out why.

A white figure appears from behind one of the statues, howling and shrieking, or maybe that's Akagi and Ginjima. Your heart stops for a mere moment before jumping into overdrive. You grip your torch, step back with one leg to gain momentum, and chuck your only source of light into what you guess is ghosts head.

“Aargh!“ shrieks the ghost before it starts screaming its lungs out at you, “Are ya stupid?! Ya could've hurt me ya shithead!“ It pulls the sheet off to reveal a very irritated Atsumu rubbing his forehead where the torchlight hit him. “OW!“ he shrieks again when you kick his shin. You'd probably kick him again for good measure if another figure, this one clad in black and with an oni mask, didn't jump from behind the statues and scare you into leaping in the air. The figure laughs and avoids the kick aimed at it's knee. “Samu!“ you shriek. “This isn't funny!“

“It is a little,“ says Akagi and to his luck he's your senpai and standing out of your reach. At least Ginjima doesn't look amused by your utter embarrassment.

In an effort to regain some of your pride you pull out the scarf and chuck it into Osamu's face. “Here, yer kitchen cloth.“

“San don't speak about mom's clothes like that,“ teases Atsumu who at the stare you send him immediately takes a careful step back.

Osamu pinches your cheeks and not even a death glare stops his teasing: “Maybe ya ain't such a baby after all. But ya do scream like one.“

“Absolutely hilarious,“ you deadpan. “Who was the white faced lady? Suna?“

“What white face?“

“Don't play with me ya shit pig. The one that almost gave Gin a heart attack!“

“Ya screamed louder than me-“

“That wasn't us,“ your brothers shake their head. You don't believe them because, why would you?

Akagi bursts into laughter. “Maybe ya saw a real ghost after all!“

A... a real... ghost. The rest of you exchange uncomfortable glances.

Gin is the first to speak. “It's gettin' a little chilly. Maybe we should,“ he gestures towards the path, and you nod, enthusiastically.

“It is gettin' late. We'll hear it if we come home past curfew,“ says Osamu.

Walking away you don't want to look back but something compels you to throw a quick glance over your shoulder. Wide unblinking eyes stare as you leave, face ghostly white and almost glowing in the dead of night.

Or maybe it's just your imagination.

tag list: @espressons @trashy-simp @nachotrash @megumiisee @foxxtrot-116

in case you’re curious, Gallery tangle is based on a real life Statue village in Japan.

#ginjima x reader #akagi x reader #ginjima hitosh #akagi michinari #ginjima hitoshi x reader #hqcorenet #akagi michinari x reader #haikyuu ginjima #hq #haikyuu #inarizaki x platonic reader #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x y/n #inarizaki imagine #inarizaki #the third miya #libri scribbles

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eryiss · 3 years

Text

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hi everyone. Another big chapter today. The first part has some graphic smut, so feel free to skip to the line break if you want to avoid it. Hope you enjoy :)

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Eight - The Tournament

Day Seven: Sunday

When Freed woke up, he thought he might be dreaming.

His head was resting against Gajeel's chest, cool and hairless. He could feel large hands running through his hair, and gently scratching at his scalp without too much pressure. His limbs were tangled up with Gajeel's, both of them without any clothes. The gentle vibrations of Gajeel's heartbeat was a pleasant sensation that made Freed smile a little, not moving to open his eyes.

The previous night had been… indescribable. Freed was a man who kept things to himself, and his past was one of his most guarded secrets. Yet sitting in the spring with Gajeel, he had felt compelled to say something. Something instinctive inside of him allowed for vulnerability, and there had been something so freeing about letting Gajeel know what his parents had done. It was more of a burden than he sometimes thought, and having Gajeel both listen to him, and seem to take his side in his own somewhat brutish way, was wondrous.

And then, of course, there had been what followed. The reason they were both in Freed's bed.

Freed was by no means a virgin. He'd had his fair share of partners, but he preferred to sleep with a man he cared for, meaning it had been some time since his last time with a man. Gajeel had been, by quite a considerate margin, the most passionate, all-consuming lover that Freed had been with. He somehow managed to balance a rough, domineering energy with shocking tenderness and the lightest of touches. The press of his strong body against Freed contrasted incredibly with the soft kisses and grazing knuckles.

It had been a night of body-shuddering, sheets-clenching, mind-melting sex.

"Hm," Gajeel purred a little. "Thinkin' about last night?"

"What makes you think that?" Freed spoke, voice sleepworn and croaky.

"'Cause yer naked, wrapped up real tight against me, and if it ain't yer dick pokin' my thigh then I'm real curious about what it is," Gajeel taunted, still scratching at Freed's hair and giving it a little tug. It gave him a flashed memory of being on all fours, Gajeel fucking him while yanking at his hair with cruel strength. "Yeah, yer thinkin' about last night. That good huh?"

"You certainly know how to treat a man," Freed chuckled; he didn't care to lie. Gajeel was jaw-droppingly good in bed. He ran a hand down Gajeel's strong body, grazing his dick. It was just as hard as Freed's. "As do I, it seems."

"Fuck yeah ya do," Gajeel was unashamedly grinning, and Freed chuckled. Gajeel looked down on him, grinning without repentance. "Want another round?"

"You think you can take it?" Freed quirked an eyebrow, smirking. "You were rather energetic last night, I wouldn't blame you if you're needing some time to let your muscles recover."

"You sayin' you think I've pushed myself," Gajeel cackled. "Pretty-boy, I was holdin' back."

Oh, that was a thought. If that were true then what would Gajeel be like when he let himself go? He would be an animal, and Gods would Freed like to witness it.

After glancing at the clock to see they had more than enough time before they would need to leave for the tournament, Freed pushed himself up. The movements shifted the sheets to the side, revealing both of their naked bodies, and Freed swallowed at the sight of the man below him. Muscles rippled, piercings gleamed, and hair spread across the sheets. Gajeel was grinning up at him, horny and expectant.

Straddling the dragon slayer, Freed leant down so their bodies were gliding together. Their dicks rubbed hard, and the cool steel of the rivet piercings that decorated Gajeel's shaft made Freed sigh. This man was made of metal, and it was intoxicating. Freed was addicted.

"You gonna ride me, Pretty-Boy?" Gajeel rasped. "Gonna ride my cock?"

"Ride you?" Freed chuckled. "Perhaps if you'd given me everything you had, I'd treat you. But as you were holding back, I don't think you've earned it," Gajeel whined in protest, and Freed laughed. "You'll enjoy what I have planned, my dear, I'm quite sure of that."

Before Gajeel could complain or question him, Freed pressed their lips together, rolled his hips, and pressed Gajeel into the mattress by the shoulders. Gajeel groaned through their kiss, and Freed felt him shudder under him as he ran his hands over Gajeel's stomach and chest. He grinned a little, pushed himself off of Gajeel and relished the groan of annoyance. He began to slowly pepper kisses down the man's body, starting at his chest, going lower to his abs, then to his naval. Gajeel sucked in a breath and Freed relished it.

How had things changed so much in so little time?

When his lips hovered above Gajeel's dick, he looked up at Gajeel with the most devilish smirk that he could muster. Gajeel looked at him as if breathless, and Freed slowly lowered his head down and licked the tip of Gajeel's aching cock.

"Holy shit," Gajeel gasped. "Y' don't have to. I know the metal ain't for everyone-"

Freed plunged Gajeel's dick deep into his mouth, deepthroating him in a single movement. The feeling of the fat, long dick, filled with cold, harsh metal, filling him was incredible, and he gagged a little around the fullness. He took every inch of the man's dick, forcing Gajeel to maintain eye contact with him. Gajeel let a small 'oh shit' slip out and fuck did it make Freed's dick twitch. He was very reactive to praise.

Swallowing the man's length, Freed began to raise and lower his head, and Gajeel moaned. The sound spurred Freed on, and he began to bob faster and faster, choking and moaning over the man's hard dick.

The taste of metal drove him wild.

Gajeel suddenly froze, let out a spew of curses, and his hands forced Freed's head down on his cock. Freed choked, and a moment later the brilliant sensation of hot cum filling his mouth overthrew everything. Gods it tastes so good.

Freed came without warning, spurting his own cum onto the sheets. His eyes shot open, and he continued thrusting Gajeel's dick deep into his throat. His thighs were trembling with the effort of remaining on his knees while he milked all of Gajeel's cum into his mouth. When he looked up, Gajeel was staring at him lust-struck and seemingly amazed. Freed smirked over the fat cock in his mouth, gave it a final teasing lick, and pushed himself up.

"A suitable replacement for a ride?" He teased, voice hoarse from the throat fucking.

"You just came?" Gajeel gasped, seemingly wonderstruck. "I didn't even touch ya - you didn't even touch yerself - and you came real fucking hard. Just because you were sucking me off?"

"It seems so," Freed smirked.

"Oh Pretty-Boy," Gajeel's tone held mischief and seduction. "I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you."

"Will you?" Freed asked. "Well, we've an hour before we need to shower, so perhaps you should start now."

Gajeel had launched himself onto Freed before he had finished speaking.

——

"Gods dammit," Laxus grunted the moment he saw Freed. "You too, huh?"

Freed had walked into the guild, wanting to speak with his teammates after a week without contact. Evergreen had been at the bar, Bickslow was nowhere in sight, and as such Freed had walked to Laxus at their regular table. He had intended to ask as to how Laxus' week with Loke had been - the natural flirt wasn't an obvious easy pairing with someone as socially… complicated as Laxus - but the blonde had looked at him with an expression that was immediately annoyed. Freed didn't know why.

"Me too?" Freed asked, sitting opposite Laxus at their table. "Care to elaborate."

"You hooked up with your teammate too, didn't you," Laxus grunted, seemingly not pleased with the outcome.

Freed immediately stilled. His and Gajeel's night together was something that they hadn't spoken about with any seriousness, but they both had decided to keep it private. They didn't leave marks in places where they could be seen, they had tried not to look as though the dynamic of their relationship had been turned on its head when they had gotten into the guild, and Freed had even gone so far as to apply a pain-killing rune on his ass. He hadn't wanted people asking why he had a slight limp.

There was the issue of the piercings Freed now had, and the runic tattoo over Gajeel's exposed arm, but they could lie about that. It could have been passed off as a trust exercise or bonding experience. Fairy Tail was known for doing things with more intensity than required, their body modification could be seen as that happening again.

"What makes you think that?" Freed asked, cagey.

"You stink of iron and his cologne. Bet he stinks of you, too," Laxus huffed a little, and Freed frowned. He should have considered that... "You couldn't've at least showered after you did it, huh?"

"We did," He said firmly.

"Together or apart?" Laxus demanded. When Freed didn't answer, Laxus knew and rolled his eyes. "If it's gonna be a regular thing then you're going to need some stronger soap. Don't want to know every time he's been in bed with you."

"I suppose not," Freed chuckled. It was then when he remembered what Laxus had said in greeting, and frowned again. "You said 'me too' when you realised me and Gajeel had slept together. Have you and Loke started something?"

"What the fuck! No," Laxus exclaimed, before grunting. "I could've had him, but I didn't want him. No. Bicks and Gray are fucking as well."

"Really?" Freed frowned, looking over the banister. He scanned the room and his eyes settled on Gray, who was sitting on one of the many benches with Bickslow's arm around his shoulders, arguing with Natsu. Bickslow and his babies were offering words of support in the argument, and Bickslow was grinning widely. "How did that happen?"

"You remember when Bicks said he'd take his clothes off every time Gray did?" Laxus asked, and Freed nodded, vaguely remembering something of the sort. "He did it, apparently Gray was into it, and they started banging on the second night," Freed looked back at Laxus, who was frowning at him. "Dunno why that's a surprise considering what you and Gajeel did. Thought you didn't like each other. You aint the type to hate-fuck."

Freed thought for a moment. The shift from seething hatred, to tentative friendship, to what had happened the night before didn't exactly make sense to him. The piercings, runes, unison raids and demonic influence didn't make things easier to understand.

"We challenged our preconceived notions of one another, and found kinship," Freed said in explanation. "I would like to know why you seem a little huffy about it."

"Because I know you're not gonna fall into bed with a guy who's hot just because you wanna sleep with him. You're a guy who sleeps with someone they care about, probably only with a guy you could see yourself being with for a long time," Laxus shrugged. Freed didn't disagree, but didn't see how this was relevant. "If he's gonna be around you for a long time then he's gonna be around me for a long fucking time too. I'm gonna have to talk to him, get to know him, all that crap. Gonna have to do it with fucking Gray as well. I don't need that shit. Got enough friends."

"So your aversion to our relationships is because you dislike people?" Freed chuckled, and Laxus nodded. "So, not because you're still madly in love with me then?"

"Fuck you," Laxus gurnted, but grinned.

"I expect that you might say that if you were still interested in me," Freed teased, and Laxus rolled his eyes. "Though I expect if we were still together and you said that, you would be begging for it rather than demanding it. You were awfully needy, I recall."

"You know what, I'm glad you found him. You can piss him off rather than me," Laxus muttered, and Freed chuckled. Laxus' expression shifted to something more sinceer. "He good for you?"

"I think so," Freed nodded, smiling a little. "Unusual, I'll admit. But good."

"And yer demon ain't been fucking around?" Laxus looked serious now, and Freed understood why. The blonde did sometimes have a tendency to blame himself for the demon, even though Freed felt all the fault lay in his parent's actions. "It ain't done anything today. It gets bad today, right?"

"There was an incident in the week, but it was sorted before anything could come of it," Freed said, not wanting to go into details.

"You sure?"

"I am," Freed gave an honest response, and Laxus nodded a little.

For a moment, they both sat at their table. Laxus was drinking a tankard of beer while Freed polished his sword in preparation for the tournament. Freed had to admit that, although he had intended for his and Gajeel's relationship - whatever it was going to be - to be a secret, he felt warmed both by how Laxus hadn't questioned his closeness to Gajeel with anything more than curiosity, and how he had accepted the fact that Gajeel might be a part of their lives that was going to stay.

That felt nice too. The idea that Gajeel would be a mainstay in his life, and in the lives of their team. He wondered how Gajeel might interact with his team. He wondered what it would be like to return home with Gajeel after a night at the guildhall, drunk and cheerful. They might stumble into bed, and just laugh as they fall asleep side by side.

Freed would enjoy that.

"I'm sorry, I've ignored it long enough," Laxus suddenly said, and Freed looked towards him. "What the hell is with the piercings? You lost a bet to him or something?"

Freed just laughed, and decided he would tell Laxus the story.

——

"And for the final fight of the day, the one you've all been waiting for, the battle for the championship," Makarov was yelling into a microphone, his voice echoing around the clearing behind Fairy Tail's guildhall. "On the left, we have Bickslow and Gray! On the right, we have Gajeel and Freed! Two teams that have proven themselves to be incredibly powerful over the day, crushing all competition before them. Are you both ready!"

Fuck yeah Gajeel was ready!

Today was his day. He'd woken up with the memory of fucking Freed hard all the damn night, only to have Freed wake up in his arms ready for a morning of more. When they'd gotten to the guild, he'd heard stories about teams that just hadn't worked out because they let their arguments get in the way, and it made him realise how fucking close he and Freed had been to ending up as another disaster. And throughout the tournament, the natural comradery that he and Freed had quickly developed had burst out and they had seemingly decimated their opponents in every match.

Now, all they had to do to win the prize was to beat up the Puppeteer and the Stripper. It was going to be easy, and Gajeel was already planning on what he would do with the prize. After seeing how Freed lived, Gajeel knew he couldn't stay, so the money was going towards a new place.

And then, they'd also get to make a forfeit for the overall losers. He hoped it would be Natsu. He was gonna make the flamebrain loudmouth his personal fucking footrest for a month. Maybe he'd even get a throne, just to piss him off more.

Freed would look good sitting in a throne.

He'd look better sitting in a throne naked.

But he couldn't think about this now. He nodded that he was ready, as did Freed, Gray and Bickslow. He needed to be in the zone to get the victory. He shouldn't underestimate Gray and Bickslow, who seemed to be almost as in tune as he and Freed were being. Maybe having sex with your teammate made you work well together? Who knew?

"And begin!" Makarov yelled.

As they had with each fight, Gajeel ran forward while Freed started casting runes. Gajeel allowed iron to replace his skin, and he extended an arm to land a punch at Gray. Gray blocked it with a shield of ice, which shattered and made him stumble. Gajeel pounced on the misstep and rammed his iron fist into Gray's stomach, knocking him into the dirt.

Before he noticed, Bickslow's dolls were above him and circling quickly. A beam of magic struck down on him, searing pain that he couldn't identify. It felt like fire and ice and lighting all at once. Gajeel hadn't fought against Bickslow before, so the burn of his magic was unfamiliar, and all Gajeel could think to do was cover himself as best he could with his iron arms and wait for the spell to end. It was hurting like fuck, but he was trapped in the spell.

Suddenly, it broke. Looking up, he saw runed implanted on the dolls. He grinned.

Freed was now fighting with his sword, with Gray using a weapon made of ice to parry the blows. They seemed well matched, so Gajeel turned to Bickslow who was looking at him with a manic expression. Bickslow raised a hand and made a beckoning motion, and Gajeel grinned. This would be fun.

He launched forward, going to punch Bickslow. The other man jumped back a few times, and Gajeel grunted with each missed hit. He had heard BIckslow was an acrobat, and he was dancing rings around Gajeel. His physical attacks anyway.

"Iron Dragon's Roar!" He yelled, and a beam of dragon slayer magic spurted from him.

Bickslow dodged it, of course, but Gajeel had wanted that. As Bickslow made some comment that got drowned out in the fighting, he had allowed Gajeel to target him. Thrusting his fist forward, he punched Bickslow in the jaw and made him stumble back. Gajeel didn't miss the opportunity he'd created, and lurched forward to pummel more punches into the man, only some of which his dolls managed to deflect.

Suddenly, a hammer made of ice slammed into Gajeel's head.

He stumbled back, wishing he had fully covered himself in iron. He looked to see Gray standing over Bickslow protectively, with a few spurts of blood from where Freed must have hit him. He could also see a small glow from one of Freed's runes on Gray's arm. He didn't know what the effect was, but he felt a swelling of pride. That was probably kinda stupid, but fuck it. His boyfriend was a badass and he was gonna be proud of it.

Was Freed his boyfriend? They didn't speak about it. Gajeel wanted to be Freed's boyfriend.

Before the thoughts could spiral, Gajeel felt Freed's hand on his shoulder. The fight had broken for a moment so they could all catch their breath and Bickslow could stand again, and Gajeel felt a fizzing on his arm, where Freed was touching him.

"It's immunity," Freed murmured, but was smirking. "Be prepared. This will be intense."

"Come on baby!" Bickslow yelled across the space. He was grinning with his tongue hanging out. "This ain't the time to be whispering sweet nothings into his ear."

"You're right," Freed smirked, and magic seemed to flow out from him. "Let's make this fun, shall we."

Walls of runes shot up around them, and the new rune on Gajeel's arm glowed and pulsed. Suddenly, Gray and Bickslow were being pushed into the ground in the same way Gajeel had been earlier in the week, and Gajeel grinned at the sight. They were taking this seriously, and Freed wasn't afraid to pull out some nasty tricks. Good.

In tandem, Freed and Gajeel began their assault. Freed started to cover their opponents in different types of pain runes, and Gajeel began slamming his fist into their bodies over and over, loving the feeling of the punches connecting.

Fuck this felt good! Brutal and unrepentant and-

This was all too violent. This was meant to be a friendly match, why was he enjoying this so much?

Realisation struck him, and Gajeel turned to look at Freed again. The man's demonic eye was glowing and a mist of magic was forming around it. Again, the demon had been influencing them both and making them more cruel than normal. Adrenaline was still running through Gajeel and there was a loud voice in his mind screaming at him to keep going, keep hitting, make them bleed and bruise and burn! But that was the demon, and who knew how bad it was for Freed.

Gajeel looked up, and saw that the full moon was parting the sky. It beat down on them, unimpeded by the clouds and hitting Freed directly. He quickly remembered that today was the shortest day of the year and fuck Freed was losing control.

He needed to stop this.

Suddenly, a dome of ice covered Freed, clearly from Gray. Gajeel didn't spare him a glance, because Freed was a priority, but he saw the walls of runes falling down. He felt the new rune on his shoulder suddenly disappear, and his gut started to flip. Was that Gray's magic cutting him off from the runes, or something more.

The fog from Freed's eye was getting thicker, and covering more space. The dome was quickly filled with mist, and Gajeel couldn't even see Freed inside of it. What the hell was happening? Was the ice making it worse? Magnifying the moon's effect somehow? Was that how it worked?

"Stop!" Gajeel yelled when he saw Gray running at him. "Fuckin st-"

The ice exploded.

Freed wasn't standing there anymore. The demon was.

Power exploded, knocking every mage watching the fight to the floor. Gajeel scrambled and failed to keep himself upright, and he was flung to the dirt. Dread filled him, because even though he had only seen Freed's demonic form standing there for a second, he knew that Freed wasn't in control.

"Gajeel Redfox," A voice like Freed's, but warped and mutated and cruel echoed through the courtyard. Everyone was watching, but Gajeel was transfixed by the demon. "Did you like the little dream I sent you? The one where I told you what would happen if you attempted to claim what belonged to me. The one that made it very clear that this body is mine to play with. The one that you ignored."

What the fuck. What the fuck!

The dream had been from the demon. The dream where everyone was dead or nearly dead and they were trying to kill Freed and Gajeel couldn't do anything. The one he had so desperately been trying to ignore. The dream was from the demon!

"The message was ignored, so perhaps I should be clear," The demon walked towards Gajeel, slowly. "You should learn to leave well enough alone. Because this body is mine to toy with. And as you've disrupted that, I intend to fix the issue."

A tendril of black magic - the same black magic that had hit him in his fight against Freed - shot out from the demon's claw. It coiled around Gajeel, who could only scream as a pain like nothing he could imagine filled him. It was every aspect of agony condensed into a single feeling which was designed to explode on his skin. The pain was overwhelming, and Gajeel only barely recognised that he was being lifted off the ground, the coil of darkness wrapping tight around his neck.

"You should have left him alone," The demon snarled at Gajeel, dragging him closer. Gajeel could see the fangs, the scales, the cruelty. "He's so much more fun when he's alone. And he will be again, soon enough."

The coiling darkness tightened. It was going to kill him.

He was struggling to breath now, and the demon forced him to maintain eye contact as his life was sapped away from him. He tried to struggle but there was nothing he could do.

"Freed, if yer in there I want you to-"

"He won't be able to do anything," The demon chuckled, and Gajeel was thrust forward so his nose grazed the demon's. "He's as good as dead. The only difference is, he's still conscious enough to watch what's about to happen."

Gajeel had never wanted to kill something before. He did now.

Before he could retort, a flurry of manic lightning shot from the sidelines and slammed into the demon. It winced, turning towards where Laxus was standing, now covered in lightning and with fury on his face. Gajeel struggled, hoping that the distraction would be enough for him to escape the coiling darkness, but the grasp of magic seemed to get tighter. He gagged a little, and his vision started to turn black, but he kept on fighting.

Lightning shot towards the demon again, but this time the vivid yellow turned to jet black, and the demon seemed to consume it rather than being hit by it. The demon started to walk towards Laxus, and Gajeel felt the binds tightening around him even more. Fuck, he was going to get crushed to death.

"You all wish to fight, it seems," The demon said, looking around at the array of mages ready to pounce. His eyes settled on Gajeel, and it grinned. "Let's make your dreams come true, shall we."

Fuck. Shit!

The magic coiling around Gajeel suddenly disappeared, and Gajeel was dropped into the dirt again. His muscles ached and his heartbeat was hammering. He did his best to get back to his feet so he could do something to help Freed, but his body had been sapped of energy and he could barely get to his knees. When he looked up - panting, bleeding and arms shaking with effort - the demon was looking at him with sadistic glee. Runes shot up around Gajeel, a cylindrical prison identical to the one that he had been trapped in in his dream.

Gods, it couldn't be happening. His dream had been awful and it was going to come true if he couldn't do something. But what the hell could he do?

The members of Fairy Tail started trying to attack the demon, with Laxus, Evergreen and Bickslow taking the lead. Natsu was soon on his feet, as were Mirajane, Gray and Elfman. Whether they knew what was happening or not, Gajeel couldn't be sure, but something innate inside of him wanted to scream at them to stop. Attacking the demon wasn't going to get Freed back, it was probably going to get them killed, and dammit this wasn't how to get rid of the demon. It was a blight on Freed's soul, not on his body!

Magic welled up around the runic prison, and Gajeel stumbled to his feet. Fire, lighting, dust, ice, water, and pure magical chaos all flew towards the demon, and yet with a wave of it's hand, the demon dismissed it and countered them all with ease. They needed to stop; this wasn't how to save Freed!

Gajeel's runes started to glow.

Energy suddenly coursed through him, unnatural and unfamiliar. As chaos unfolded around him, Gajeel found himself transfixed by the glowing lettering on his arm. Magic - runic magic, not Dragon Slayer - was filling him now. It was powerful, addictive, and something new.

With a punch, the force of which was stronger than Gajeel had ever managed before, he managed to shatter the runes keeping him in place. The demon turned to him, face without emotion but a snarl ripped through it's throat. Gajeel felt adrenaline coursing through him like he never had before, and he raised the arm covered in runes, purple magic flickering from the exposed skin. For only a second, the demon flickered back to Freed, who was clearly trying to fight.

Freed was still in there. He had a chance.

That's what these runes were for. Not just marking. Not just a coincidence. They were Freed's magic, anchoring them together so Gajeel could pull Freed back from the edge.

"What was that?" The demon snarled when it took over. "What did you do?"

"I just figured some shit out," Gajeel grinned, walking towards the demon and covering his body in Iron. The runes still glowed. "Me and him, y'see, we're soulmates. I know, he knows it, and our magic fuckin' knows it. And yer a sadistic motherfucker who's been eating away at him for far too fucking long now. Not anymore. So I think it's up to me to cleanse his soul."

The magic erupted inside of him, and scales of iron covered him. His teeth grew sharper and his magic roiled inside of him. His dragon force was taking over, more powerful than it had ever been before. Runes covered every inch of his body. He glowed with the minging of his magic and Freed's, and felt more powerful than he could have ever imagined.

At that moment, he was a monstrous force of nature. Nothing could stop him.

With every step he took towards the demon, it's grasp on Freed seemed to lessen. Even being in Gajeel's overwhelming presence seemed to make it's dominance over Freed flicker back and forth. Freed was fighting the demon's control, and his body mutated back and forth between monster and man.

His eyes met Gajeel's, and a look of wonderment and relief filled his expression. Freed grit his teeth and managed to hold onto control, if only for a moment. That was all the time Gajeel needed.

"Let's sort this shit out right now," Gajeel proclaimed as he stalked towards Freed. "I'm yours and yer mine," He was chest-to-chest with Freed now, and wrapped a hand around the back of Freed's head, holding and anchoring him. "And as long as I'm still standin', that demon ain't got a fuckin claim on you. You understand me. Yer fucking mine!"

"Your damn right I am," Freed whispered, and had the smallest of grins.

Gajeel pulled Freed to him, and kissed the hell out of him.

Magic of cataclysmic power exploded around them, pushing everyone but the two of them to the ground. Gajeel dragged Freed as close as he could to him, his draconic body melding with Freed. The runes painted onto Gajeel were burning with the most addictive power that he had ever felt, and it was as if the feeling Gajeel had been unknowingly hunting for his life had suddenly been bestowed upon him. This moment was something he was destined to do.

The darkness that the demon had forced on Freed seemed to be burning away. Even Gajeel could feel the force of something wrong leaving Freed, and he pulled the man closer to him as the spirit seeped from Freed's soul.

As they kissed, a cloud of sentient shadows rose up around them. They pulled apart with the overwhelming force of evil looking down at them, searching for another soul to take over. Without needing to speak, both men turned to the demon's smokey form and raised their intertwined hands. Magic shot fourth without effort nor complication, and Freed's runes entrapped the demon while Gajeel's iron destroyed it.

Another unison raid, which came to them like second nature now.

"It's gone," Freed whispered, pulling away. "It's actually gone."

"Yeah it is," Gajeel agreed, pressing his forehead against Freed's. "It ain't ever hurtin' you again, y'hear me. Never."

"I know," He grinned, elated. "Gajeel, I lo-"

He passed out in Gajeel's arms before he could finish.

#Gajeed #Freedjeel #Gajeel x Freed #Freed Justine #Gajeel Redfox #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #Multi Chapter #Chapter Eight #Word count: 5.3k

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