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eunoiaflow3r · 4 years

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Agree to No Promises

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, thank you for requesting!

Warnings: mistakes, angst, fluff, mentions of kidnapping (nothing gory), and language. fem!reader.

Word Count: 4.5k

Requests:

i have a spence request!! you know that one scene where he says “this is calm, and it’s doctor”. i want a whole fic of that kind of aggressive spence in which he defends the readers honour to the rest of the BAU people, maybe she makes a call that’s risky for her own safety and the others are calling her out on it and spence gets defensive and morgan is like “calm down kid” or it can be whoever and THEN HE SAYS THAT LINE I WOULD DIE ❤️❤️

actually, some enemies to lovers with spencer would be great if they work at the bau together and for years they don’t get along and bicker and the reader knows she’s in love with spencer but doesn’t have a chance and he finds out while they’re arguing

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You wanted to punch Spencer in the face. You wanted to shut him up, and you felt in that moment - punching him would be the perfect way to do so. But no. Your brain was not listening to what you wanted, and instead what your heart wanted, but you could not afford that right now.

When you think of Spencer Reid, you think tall, skinny, uncoordinated, annoying, rude and cocky. You can’t stand the way he looks at you, or the way his hair falls over his eyes, and even the fact that a grown-ass man never wears matching socks. You also don’t like the fact that he always seems to be right, even when you wish he wasn’t.

According to Spencer, you were no walk in the park either. He hates that you’re so dramatic, and that you’re so hell-bent on proving yourself right. He hates that you never listen to anything he tells you, and how you act like nothing can ever get to you no matter what it is.

When Spencer thinks of you, he thinks she’s self-righteous, and that you have this stupid hero complex that you need to get over.

“L/N.”

“Reid.” You greeted with just as much hostility.

Even on the plane, you both seemed to successfully make eachother mad. The team always noticed the rigidness between you two, and had even asked about the elephant in the room multiple times, but the only thing you two had seemed to come up with to explain your behavior - which you both had ironically subconsciously agreed on, was that, “It’s not my fault he/she is impossible.”

On countless random occasions, the team had tried to help fix whatever bad blood was spilled between you, but you two never caved in and instead insisted on the fact that, “nothing could be done,” to fix the unyielding tension if the other wasn’t going to change.

After they went over the ins and outs and asked the necessary questions of the case like usual, Hotch began to put the team into pairs to send them on their individual assignments.

“Prentiss, Morgan, I need you to go to the morgue and see if there’s anything significant other than the ligature marks.”

They nodded.

“JJ, Rossi, I need you to go visit the victim’s families and see if there’s anything you can find that ties these murders together. Like we said, probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to look.”

“Of course.” JJ answers.

“Y/N, and Reid I need you two to go to the most recent scene and tell us what you find there. I’ll meet you there after I check in with the locals.”

Both you and Spencer looked absolutely offended, and you both collectively tried to come up with any reason in the books so that you would not be paired together.

“But surely-” you tried to reason.

“No.” Hotch interrupted.

“But I should -” Reid began to bargain.

Hotch interrupted once again with a cold stare, and an even colder if not snarky, “No.”

Yours and Spencer’s eyes met for a brief moment before you both decided to give up defeatedly, and roll your eyes at one another.

The team had noticed the interaction between the two of you once more and they couldn’t decide if they wanted to laugh at your childish actions, or if they wanted to shake their heads in annoyance and say something about your behavior.

They chose the latter and ignored the both of you.

Once you had landed, and before the team all went their separate ways, Hotch told both you and Spencer to behave.

“No promises.” you replied opening the driver door to the black SUV that awaited the both of you to ride in.

Hotch gave you a harsh glare.

“I’m joking Hotch.” you smile. “It’s a joke.”

Nodding, he walks away and gets into a car of his own with the local police department. Spencer gets in the passenger seat and immediately if not frantically, puts on his seatbelt.

You chose to ignore his actions, turned on the ignition, and drove out of the parking lot.

“Uhm, are you sure you should be driving?” Spencer asks eyebrows furrowed.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean since -”

“You misogynistic prick!” you practically shout, now pissed.

“You’re wrist.” Spencer nods towards your hand. “You were complaining earlier about how it was cramped and all.”

“What do you care?”

“Well, ya’know. I wouldn’t want it going out, and I don’t know, kill the both of us because you weren’t careful.”

“You’re a jerk Spencer Reid.” you shake your head not taking your eyes off the road. “You ever shut up?”

“I could ask the same Y/N L/N.”

Your relationship with Spencer has been this way since the day you arrived.

“Everyone, meet agent L/N.” Hotch introduces you. “Y/N, meet Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid.”

You waved at everyone and said a quick “hello,” before sitting in the empty seat right across from Spencer Reid.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had done a little back up check on you before you had even arrived. Your record was crystal clear, you had done nothing wrong, your parents were alive and well, and it seemed as though you had been through nothing traumatic and this shocked Spencer.

No one’s record was this clear, which meant you were hiding something. Because of this, he could not trust you.

Instead of asking you himself, he decided to just ignore you and act rude until he got the answers he wanted. Perhaps this was you’d feel the need to tell the truth - whatever that was.

“I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?” You had asked once.

You had barely been at the Bureau a day and already you had seemingly made an enemy, which sucked because from what you’ve heard Spencer was the sweetest one there, and by the looks of it, definitely the cutest.

“No, you did nothing.”

“Okay.”

You don’t remember what he was talking about, but Spencer was ranting and that was one of your favorite things about him - just the way he could talk on and on and on about anything.

His voice itself made you want to swoon, but everytime he spoke to you, he always seemed disinterested, and you hated that

You got on Spencer’s last nerve. How did you seem so perfect? You were beautiful inside and out, and he didn’t understand it. There were days where he literally just wanted to talk to you to hear your voice, and he wanted to just ramble on and on and on to you about everything, but everytime he stopped himself.

He reminded himself that you were suspicious, and besides - with your beauty, who knew how many men you’ve been with.

He didn’t feel like getting his heart broken anytime soon.

You gave him a couple of weeks - a month and a half - to warm up to you, and still nothing.

His attitude had got nothing but worse towards you, which was confusing because when you saw him interact with anyone else, he was an absolute sweetheart.

“Why do you treat me this way?”

He ignored you.

“Fine.” You had grown impatient. “Don’t say I never tried Spencer.”

And you walked away.

You were no longer going to take the way he gave you the cold shoulder and the way he talked to you, so from that day forward you had done to him the same way he had done to you.

You gave him the cold shoulder, and acted annoyed whenever he spoke to you.

This had become routine for the both of you. So much of a routine, that you both had forgotten why you hated each other in the first place.

After awhile, all Spencer knew was that he couldn’t get your condescending voice out of his head, and even when he told himself that you weren’t, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

Everyday was a struggle to get eachother out of your heads. It seemed as though no one but that small voice in your heads knew you were secretly pining for each other, and that “hatred,” was covering up something much, much bigger, but there’s doubt you’ll be uncovering anything any time soon.

There were nights where you laid in bed just thinking about him, and times you cried yourself to sleep because at some point you realized you were in love with him, but you knew he would never ever feel the same, and that’s what hurt you the most.

“Excellent work guys.” Hotch compliments. “We’ll pick this up in the morning.”

The team had come together, and gathered a significant amount of information about the unsub, but it was late, and everyone needed a good night’s sleep for fresh minds the next day.

Unfortunately, roommates were the team members you were paired with earlier that day, so you were stuck sharing a room with Reid.

You huffed and through your bag on the bed. The last person you wanted to share a room with was Spencer Reid. At least you didn’t have to share a bed.

Putting a fake smile on your face, you turned to him and asked, “So are you taking a shower first or am I?”

“I’ll take mine in the morning.” he answered shortly, seemingly unbothered.

“Okay, fine. Whatever.” you replied, kind of hurt.

A hot shower should do it for you. You brought your bag into the shower, and got ready to relax under the steaming water. You rubbed your hands across your face because honestly - you were stressed. Arguing with Spencer on a daily basis was just…tiring. Sometimes you wished you knew why he hated you so much, but you knew the man wouldn’t ever tell you.

You opened your eyes, and you looked around the shower for your shampoo, but on the wall right above it was a spider.

“Shit!! Oh my God!!” You jumped out of the shower as quickly as you could, wrapped a towel around your body, and just about flew out of the bathroom.

Spencer looked up hurriedly and jumped out of his seat, in fear that you were hurt.

“What the hell? Are you okay?”

“No!” you huffed. “There’s a spider in the shower!”

His face was now a serious Hotch-like face. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes!”

Spencer walked into the bathroom and checked for the spider. He was now just as confused as ever.

“This is just a wolf spider,” he sighed, bringing it into the room in a cup with a napkin covering it. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“What the fuck Spencer, what are you DOING?”

He looked at you, and then the towel around you and his nostrils flared. You were practically naked - as the only thing between the two of you was a flimsy hotel towel. He had to get out of there, so instead of answering you, he left the room and went to go free the arachnid.

Once he was outside, and had freed the spider, he took a few breaths. He was frustrated. Absolutely frustrated, and he wasn’t sure what to do. All he saw now was that towel wrapped around your wet body and he hated the way his stomach clenched everytime he thought about that stupid towel and how easily it could have fallen and how he would have been able to -

No. He must not think this way about you. Not only was it incredibly inappropriate considering you were his coworker, but he had to keep up his, “I can’t stand her,” persona.

When he got back to the room, you were, he assumed, finished showering, and you were sitting on your bed in a pair of shorts and a tight fitted tank top leaving little to nothing of your figure to the imagination.

Of course, he was now incredibly irritated because you were real, and this wasn’t just one of his many dreams starring you where you two were using your mouths for a little something other than argue.

You had watched Spencer go into the bathroom, and you audibly let out a breath. He had said nothing to you, yet the way he looked at you made your heart and lower stomach go into a fucking frenzy.

When he got out, he was dressed in just a regular t-shirt and basketball shorts. You practically swooned. You had never seen him in anything other than his usual work attire, and you regrettably loved this look on him.

You shouldn’t have been thinking this way about him.

He hated you. How could anything ever happen if he was furious with you for every little thing you did?

“You know what I don’t understand?” Spencer asked climbing into his bed and turning the light off on his side.

“What?”

You did the same so now you both were laying in the darkness.

“How do you face serial killers almost every single day, and you’re afraid of spiders?”

“Same way you’re afraid of elevator crashes I suppose.”

“But death by spiders are extremely rare - that spider was harmless.”

“I’m not afraid of getting killed by a spider, they’re just hideous.”

He laughed and said, “Yeah, well I’m sure they find you hideous as well.”

You both went to sleep with giddy smiles on your faces.

The next day went by pretty smoothly, and ever since the night in the hotel, Spencer had seemed a little less hostile towards you. You couldn’t help but wonder why. What changed?

Anyway, just like the day before, you were paired with Spencer, mostly indoors working on the board. Collectively you two had noticed some pretty interesting details, and you both realized you worked well together.

Soon after you gave a profile to the locals, Hotch told you and Spencer to follow a lead to a suspect’s home. You had knocked on the door, and nothing. You checked the front yard, backyard, and nothing.

It wasn’t until you checked inside a kids’ clubhouse, that you had found a secret trap door hidden underneath.

“Reid, call the team.”

He did, and once he was sure they were on their way, he helped you move the playhouse over so that you could open the door.

Once he opened it, all you two heard were sobs and the unsub yelling. You went down even after Spencer told you not to, and you saw the girl tied to a chair with a gun pointed to her head.

When the unsub saw you, a guy named Fred you believe, he changed directions, and held the gun out in front of him straight at your head.

“Fred? Hey. I’m Y/N L/N and I’ve come to help.”

“H-h-h-help? H-h-h-how can can y-you he-he-help?”

On your way over to this house, Garcia called and told you and Spencer that Fred had autism and, because of this he was like a child, he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Well Freddie,” you paused and looked him in his eyes, “May I call you Freddie?”

He nods quickly.

“Well the FBI is out there,” you heard the sirens a moment earlier, “and they’re upset that you took this girl. They might hurt you.”

“But I-I-I-I like h-h-her.”

You heard someone try to come down, and you yelled, “No!” which made all noises stop. “Do not come down here!”

Fred was scared, and confused, and he didn’t know what to do. All you could see was that the girl continued to cry, and he held his gin tighter.

You put up your hands dropping your gun, and this made him trust you a little bit more.

“Do you like me, Freddie?”

He nods enthusiastically.

“So, how about you let this girl go, and take me instead?”

“L-let her go?”

“Yes, Freddie, let her go and you can have me.” You were trying not to shake. “Can I untie her?”

“Yes.” he says and follows your movements with his gun. You walk slowly over to the girl, and untie her quickly. “When you go up there, tell them not to shoot. Tell them that the man is more unstable than we thought, okay?” She nods tears streaming down her face, and runs towards the latter.

Spencer was freaking out. He was pacing, and his heart was racing, and everytime he sat down his legs wouldn’t stop moving, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had cried, almost pulled out his hair, crumpled up papers in frustration and had yelled at almost every single one of his team members.

How could he have let this happen to you? He should have gone instead of you. He should have gone with you, he should have stopped you or something.

And on top of this, he always been an absolute prick to you, when deep down he felt the opposite and all he wanted to do was kiss you and tell you how he felt but now you were gone and he didn’t know if he was getting you back, and all he did know was that his heart hurt and all he wanted to do was just see you.

Just see you.

You had woken up tied to a chair in a child’s bedroom.

You tried to untie or loosen the ropes, but it was no use - they were way too tight.

Fred came into the room with a tray of food for you, and he looked at you almost sadly.

“Freddie, you know they’re looking for you, right?

“I-I-I know.”

“So what’s going to happen when they do find you? You’ll kill me?”

He gasped and covered his mouth. “I could never hurt you!”

“But you hurt those other girls, Freddie.”

“Th-th-those g-girls hurt me. You’re r-re-really n-nice to me. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

You tried to smile, but all that came out was tears. You were scared to death and you had no idea what made you make the decisions you made.

“Oh, no Y/N p-please do-don’t cry.”

“Freddie these ropes really hurt, can you take them off?”

“But you’ll leave m-me.”

“Freddie, I won’t leave you, I promise okay?

They had a location. They knew where you were. Spencer couldn’t have been happier.

Soon enough the team had found the house, and quietly came into the house. Morgan saw you first, relieved you were okay, and you silently told him that Fred was upstairs. He nodded and let the officers up there to make the arrest. You ran outside tears running down your face, and as soon as Spencer sees you, he runs up to you hugging you tightly. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob into his shoulder.

“Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt?” He says checking you as he pushes you away from him checking for any scratch or scar or anything.

“No, I’m - I’m alright.”

“Good.” he says, getting serious now. “Then explain to me why you would do something so incredibly stupid? We were all worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?”

He shakes his head and tries not to show how angry he was with you for leaving him. Instead of answering, he walks away.

He walks away because if he stayed, he would have kissed you, and he can’t -

He just can’t.

If he shows you that he cares, you just might hurt him and sometimes it’s easier to just shut you out, than get used to you being around and then leave him. He doesn’t want you to know how much you could hurt him if he let you in.

So he pushes you away.

After everyone greeted you, and asked if you were okay, and the doctors checked you out, you were all on the plane home.

You kind of just distanced yourself from everyone because all the team seemed to do was patronize you.

“That was a huge risk Y/N, did you even think about what you were doing?” Emily asked.

“Honestly, what if it didn’t work L/N? What about the girl?” Morgan said, shaking his head.

“You could have gotten severely injured Y/N, we’re just trying to look out for you.” JJ tried to reassure you.

Everytime you tried to explain yourself, you were bombarded with another stupid question, which caused silent tears to fall down you face. Spencer saw this, and he decided he had had enough with everyone.

“You guys act like you had never made a decision like this in your entire career. At the end of the day, everyone made it out alright, and I’m sure Y/N has learned her lesson, but you guys humiliating her doesn’t help at all. Think about what she’s just been through. Just for a second can you think about how she’s feeling right now?” He sighed. “This is the first time Y/N has dones something like this and you all are giving her the third degree. So just stop.”

“Hey, calm down Reid, It’s not that we -”

“This is calm Morgan, and it’s doctor.”

With that being said Spencer moved to the back of the plane, and sat across from you. You both said nothing, but you silently thanked him.

Once you were back at the BAU, Hotch told him he wanted you to take some time off, and you understood. The team left avoiding both you and Spencer, mostly because of what he said on the plane, and they weren’t sure what to do now.

“Reid, can I talk to you?” He was packing up to go home, you two were the only ones left on this floor.

“Yes?”

“Why did you do that - on the plane I mean. Why would you stick up for me?”

He shrugged, basically ignoring you. Just right where you thought you were getting through to him, he closes himself back up again, and goes back to being mean to you.

“Fine. Whatever. Just please don’t do that again. I don’t need your help.”

You were walking away, when he decided to argue back.

“Oh you don’t? So you'd just would have wanted them to keep patronizing you? Honestly, I don’t see what your problem is Y/N, goodnight.”

And he was walking towards the door. You ran out in front of him blocking him from leaving.

“My problem?” You scoff. “Oh I’ll tell you what my problem is. I don’t need your saving. I don’t need you to come in like a knight on his steed and prove that you’re smarter than me every single time. Because yes, you’re smarter, and yes, you’re a doctor, and yes, I know you dislike me for some reason, but don’t go switching up your attitude if something happens to me. Just leave me alone.

Obviously you don’t know what it feels like to be me, otherwise you would know that the worst pain there is, is being in love with someone who just hates you. So, just stop. Please, just stop.”

And once you said what you needed to, you walked off gathering your things so that you could go home too. You felt like crying, but you couldn’t. Not here. You couldn’t believe you just said what you did.

Despite what he wanted, he stood frozen in place. He was conflicted. He didn’t know what to do. His mind was telling him to do one thing, while his heart told him to do another.

He took quick strides over to your desk, and turned your body gently so that you were facing him, and you were basically trapped between him and your desk behind you.

“I couldn’t save you.” He began. “I was with you, and then I wasn’t and I couldn’t help you. You were doing that stupid heroic shit you tend to do, and I wasn’t there to help you. You were hurting, and it hurt me that I wasn’t there to heal you. And believe me, it keeps me awake at night when I think about the way I treat you, and I’m sorry, I am. I’m sorry if you felt like I hated you, because believe me, I don’t.

There is nothing to hate about you other than the fact that you’re just so goddamn perfect and I know I could never have you, and even if I did, I would give all of me to you, and that scares me. It scares me that I would be so willing to hand my heart over to you, and it scares me that you have all this power over me. It hurts that you have the power to torture me, so yes, I push you away, and I’m sorry I care about you, but I just, I just-”

And this was that moment.

That moment where your head told you to punch him, because God knows you wanted to, but your heart told you to just swallow all of that angst and just give yourself to him.

To tell him with your lips that you felt the same, and just leave all the arguing behind.

But something was -

You didn’t hate him. And he just confessed that he didn’t hate you, and now his face was under your fingertips, and your lips were on his. Tears were falling, you weren’t sure if they were yours or his, but he was kissing you back and his arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt like you were on fire. Your hands were now tangled in his hair, and his hands caressed your sides. He had brought you closer to him, and through this kiss you both felt all the so-called, “hatred,” and, “dislike,” evaporate into thin air.

He pulled away from you, and you wiped away his tears.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, you didn’t deserve what I did to you. None of it. If I could take it all back, I would. I’ll make it up to you, I promise I will.”

“You’re such a boy Spencer Reid.” You say.

“What?” He’s confused.

“Mother’s tell their little girls that when boys are mean to them, that they must like them, and that’s why they’re acting that way.”

“Well that’s not very healthy. That tells those little girls that when a man hits them, or is crude towards them, that that’s perfectly normal and that they should just take it because the man loves them.”

“Well true,” Spencer was still holding you, and you went on “but the point was that you must have really liked me since you were so mean to me.”

“I mean, sure. But I don’t see why a mother would -”

“Hey, agree to disagree, okay?”

A month or so passed, and the team noticed a huge shift. You and Spencer were no longer arguing constantly, well, of course there were disagreements and such, but you two didn’t act like you hated each other.

“Promise me you’ll stop trying to be the hero.” Spencer told you once.

“No promises.”

Because if you weren’t the hero, you wouldn’t have saved the girl, wouldn’t have gotten Fred help, wouldn’t have the arrogant prince turned good, and you wouldn’t have agreed to disagree.

~~~~~~

3K notes · View notes

spiced-wine-fic · 2 years

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Fandom/fic asks

Tagged by the wonderful @thenookienostradamus (and I hope you’re feeling a bit better!)

B - A pairing–platonic, romantic or sexual–that you initially didn’t consider, but someone changed your mind.

I never really thought about Celebrimbor and Annatar as a sexual thing until reading Encairion’s The Price of Vengeance II which is just so brilliantly written. It becomes more than what it appears and there’s no softness in it at all. Just thinking of it makes me choke up. 😞

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

In 1983-4? When I read the Silmarillion I immediately went: Snap: Fëanor/Fingolfin, Maedhros/Fingon, Glorfindel/Ecthelion and Beleg/Túrin.

I was young. I was aware that some people could be attracted to their own gender but that was about it. It wasn’t a big topic in my family. It was more like: ‘This happens and it’s life.’ (My nan was very open about having a huge crush on a young lady who she was at Brighton’s Ladies College with and worked with in a production of Macbeth).

Back then it was…if you read about it in novels or what would be now called YA books, it was called a ‘pash’. A girl might have a ‘pash’ on her female sport’s mistress for instance. I saw it in real life too.

Anyhow, I’d never known (then) any openly gay men and only read one novel with a male/male kiss. However, I just thought: ‘Yes, these four’ and no more about it, really. Didn’t write it until decades later.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending.

Not die defending 😂 but the above OTP’s are what I choose to believe and write about. Doesn’t bother me if other people don’t have the same view, of course! they’re just what I like personally.

I also don’t believe Maglor degenerated into a mad, moaning regretful derelict who eventually begged the Valar for forgiveness and I don’t view the Valar as pure, holy and morally ‘right’. I personally would find that unbelievably boring to write about anyway, let alone think about. (eldritch Valar are fascinating).

(Steven Erikson’s Malazan Book of the Fallen has a cast of ‘gods’ and they are fascinatingly written, morally grey, strange, wicked, kindly, incomprehensible and yet sometimes completely understandable. If there must be gods, let them be like that!)

Again, the above is just what I like and what other people believe and like is none of my business :)

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

Oh god, not tropes again? What even are they?

I looked on t.v.Tropes and there’s too many and I’m none the wiser, really. I don’t know. I’ll just like or dislike some things. And any trope can be written brilliantly; it’s all in the execution.

Just within the Tolkien Fandom it was an article of faith ten or more years ago that all Girl Falls into Middle-earth stories were absolute crap. They and Legomances — which generally occupied the same space — were almost universally derided and sneered at. Some authors on FF.net were brutally shamed and flamed. Which was wrong; they weren’t harming anyone, but the Pit was always a bastard of a place for that kind of thing, Legomances, slash were always in their sights! and I’m glad my stories were ineligible at NC17.

Anyway, @thegentlestmaenad decided to write one to show it could be done well. It was more than done well! It is unique and incredible story. Well it would be; the author’s a genius!

@thenookienostradamus Thank you so much. May I ask you the same questions please (if you’re feeling up to it?)

#fandom #fic #asks #answers

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someonewhowannadielol · 4 years

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My name is 01001010 01001011 (Alien!Jungkook! x Human!Reader)

Summary: “So you’re a human?” The alien that looked and acted like a human asked. The only difference between him and you was that he had two upside down triangles starting from his jaw going down under his shirt. Also, he was huge. “I’m talking 8 foot tall” huge.

Warning: Daddy kink, Dirty talk, size kink, cunt slapping, Jungkook being rlly big, fingering, nipple sucking (?), Dom/sub themes, and Jungkook being a curious alien.

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

COVID-19 vs Human kind. Human kind was pretty much fucked. In front of your eyes, the world population went from a staggering 8 billion people to an exponentially low 1 million. Within two years. It was in October 2020, when scientist realized that instead of working on a vaccine, they needed to discover a place where those free from this deadly disease could live. Safely and peacefully.

Then, the people of Jubal, stepped in, and it was pure chaos. You still remember the day, 14thof December 2020. Everywhere; social media platforms, billboards, NASA’s speech, everything revolved around the message they sent us. They wanted to help us. Surprisingly, we knew nothing about them, but they knew everything about us. From our appearance to our food, cultures, languages, and what not. It low key creeped you out, not going to lie.

Nonetheless, we began building the transport link through their help and finally, one year later (pretty much the brink of our extinction), we were on our way to a new life.

Honestly, you had imagined them to look like- or well, to not look like how they looked. You’d expected Pokémons, or weird looking octopus, or even insects. But they looked just like you, expect they were way bigger in size.

After half a month or so, you had started to get used to the atmosphere. Almost similar to Earth, there were two sides to this planet, a much hotter plane, where the temperature never went below 104 Fahrenheit. You remember going there when you first arrived here, and oh god, you hated it. The temperature was too high for you; they didn’t know what ice cream was (how can they not know! You thought they knew everything, yet they’re unaware about one of the most popular desserts on Earth), you absolutely hated sweating and no amount of air conditioning could stop it, and the beach just looked out of place. The sand wasn’t the usual pale brown shade, instead it was just the color of the ocean itself – it adapted to the shade of the flowing water into a green-blue hue. Weird. Also, there was one sun in the morning, and three in the evening, gradually coming as the hours passed by.

You had also noticed that all of them ate food at the same temperature. Nothing was cold like ice, or hot like a fresh pizza. The concept was new to them, and when you asked for the water to be cold at the first restaurant you went to – the waiter just looked lost. The poor soul, he was told to make the humans feel at home, so when he realized he couldn’t do what you asked to, you just felt really bad. Still, it was funny that a seven-foot tall man was scared of you being uncomfortable. It was cute, honestly.

Also, almost similar to Earth, the two places had different types of Jubals living there. The sunny side had more tan skinned people, with bright, blond hair and bright eyes. Whereas, the cold plane Jubals had fairer skin, darker hair and doe eyes. The one similarity being – they were huge as fuck. The average height was around seven foot for men, and around six foot for females. So, standing at a 5 foot 2 inches (almost three inches I swear!), you felt tiny (and intimidated sometimes, but you weren’t going to admit that.

After finalizing that you definitely didn’t want to live in the hotter part of the planet, you moved to Corellia, it was cold there but not in the way you expected it to be. In the morning, it was perfectly fine, the cold breeze was nothing short of comfortable, but as the evening came, it started to get cold to the point where you couldn’t bear to go outside after 6 PM. Sometimes, you think you might have underestimated the cold here at night, because the two beautiful moons brought such intense cold that you wouldn’t dare go out at night. They gifted you a cozy one bed apartment with a really good heating system, which you appreciated. Also, you had never been so glad that you brought the microwave from Earth, without it, you didn’t know what you would do.

Ever since you moved, you had pretty much been lonely, because of the lack of contact with humans. Most of them preferred to live in the hotter state, wanting to get tanned - and to fuck the surfer Jubal hotties. You still remember parting with your sister and her ranting about this Jubal she met who was so “dreamy” and “good at surfing”.

As usual, you were just trying to get used to the food here, thankfully, they had a smaller section of “human,” food that mostly consisted of cup noodles, vegetables, chicken and chocolates. Getting groceries was intimidating at first (honestly, it kind of still is), because everyone and everything was so large, and everyone just kept staring at you. You still haven’t interacted with a Jubal on your own, it’s not like you were scared – you were – but also you didn’t really know how to go up to one. Until now, the only two Jubals you’ve met were the grocery store cashier and the landlord. Sigh.

You were so happy when you saw the new addition of real, organic milk in the grocery aisle! Thank god you got a break from that horrid almond milk. It was just water pretending to be milk honestly, and whenever you poured it in your cereal, it felt like drowning them in water, yuck. But, as much as you could try, you just would not reach the goddamn shelf. Why did these Jubals have to be so tall! Why couldn’t they just make this aisle according to human size!

You heard someone shuffle behind, but paid no heed until you heard laughter burst and immediately looked back to see one of them laughing so hard, his body shook.

“You- you’re so tiny!” He barely managed to get that sentence out of him, since he couldn’t stop his outburst.

Of course, you were offended.

“I’m actually not! You all are way too big!” You didn’t really know how to respond, because this was just so sudden.

“Hm, I don’t think so, you’re smaller than average earthlings. But it’s okay, because it’s adorable,” so, you were really surprised when you felt him behind you, reach up to the milk shelf and grab a container of it. Of course, being the dumb idiot you were, you suddenly turned around and had to face him again. You hadn’t noticed his physical features before, but now that you did. Holy shit.

He was tall (I know, it’s obvious by now), and had such, clear, fair skin. Two upside down triangles were on each side of his jaw and went down, disappearing under his coat. He looked at you with such doe, curious eyes, almost as if he was entertained by your mere presence.

“Here you go,” he handed you the container of milk – while still being really close (not that you minded it). Despite the irritatingly bright fluorescent store lighting, his hair shined, and looked so soft.

And after that, he just followed you around the store, and you honestly didn’t really know what to do.

“You know, I’ve been trying to find a human since a month now, but I’ve heard most of them moved to the Southern part. You should’ve done that too, because Corellia is too cold for you. You’re a little slow,”

And you’re a little piece of shit.

“But now I found you. You’re really adorable, the books didn’t tell me that. Ever since humankind moved here, I’ve been really studying Earth. Did you guys really had pink leaved trees? And forests? It must be so cool for so many trees to be in one place. I also really want to meet a lion,”

“You can’t just meet a lion,” you chuckled, he was weird, but somehow, it wasn’t awkward around him. He radiated this warm energy that you hadn’t seen in the Jubal people around you, and it was comforting, made you want to stay by his side – even if it meant answering his dumb questions.

“I can, you can’t. It would eat you, because you’re bite sized for it,” he continued to comment on your petite stature, and the worst part is that you couldn’t even defend yourself, especially when he kept towering over you.

“Hey! Stop making fun of me,” you tried to push him but the basket was too heavy for you, so you ended up just… awkwardly not being able to do it. Suddenly his – huge – hand swoops in and carries the heavy grocery basket as if it was nothing.

“You should’ve told me it was too heavy for you,” he sounded almost as if he was scolding you, and coo-ing at you at the same time. His eyebrows bunched up in frustration as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘how can I protect you if you won’t tell me what you need,’ but you couldn’t really make out what he said.

You were just pulled out of your thoughts when you heard him put something in your basket. Something that the Jubals ate, not humans.

Should I ask him to leave? No, that’s way too rude. Then, should I ask him why he’s following me?

“This is delicious, you should try it,” He spoke while continuing to look around the store, and put random items in your basket. There was a variation of their fruits (this one had a gradient of yellow and orange, with huge spikes coming out from the top), cans with God-knows-what inside (the one he put in your basket had cherry colored pentagons on it, and a juice bottle that contained neon green juice. You were not looking forward to drinking that.

“I don’t even know how to make all of this. What if I can’t eat it?” You were scared of most of these food items, you got sick easily, and didn’t know how to cope if you fell sick here. Without the medicines, you’d probably die.

“I’ll cook it for you if you want to,” He looked at you and smiled, “I know humans are fragile, so don’t worry, I made sure to get the ones which would be safe for you,” he said, while petting your hair, and smiling. You instantly fell in love with it, it wasn’t like the way he laughed at you earlier, but somehow, it was far more beautiful. His eyes crunched up into half-moons, cheeks being bunched up, he almost looked like the small bunny you had as a pet when you were younger. So. Cute.

“But I don’t even know your name, why would you do this for me?” You really were curious, why was a Jubal so interested in humans? So far, most of them have just maintained a distance from you.

“Because I want to keep you,” he looked at you, and the duality of his presence made you shiver. The small bunny smile morphed into a more serious face, his already dark brown eyes, turned into a slightly darker shade, giving you the chills.

“You can’t keep me,” you didn’t know how to fight this argument, you almost wanted to laugh and act as if you thought it was a joke, but you weren’t an idiot – and nor was he.

“I know, I can’t find the Earth word for it, I want to be with you, is what I mean,” he mumbled as he tried to find something in the cereal aisle.

The grocery trip was actually not as weird as you’d expect it to be. While you both didn’t know anything about each other, not even names (not that Jubals had actual names, they just talked through their minds?)

And as soon as you reached the cashier, before you could even take out your money, he nod, and paid the bill.

“Hey! I can pay for myself, you don’t have to do this!”

Honestly, you didn’t really know what to say after he said, “I’m paying, now be a good baby and stand still,” where did he even learn to speak like that?

It was starting to get cold now, and after you exited the heated mall, it was visible that you shivered every time the cold brushed up against your figure. You should’ve worn the third sweater, sigh.

“So you’re really a human?” He said, as he carried your groceries and followed you, on your way to the apartment.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N,”

“How can you be a Y/N? You just said you were a human,” He asked, really confused. Were you pranking him? He learnt in (one of his many books about humans) that humans liked to prank each other for entertainment. He found the idea amusing, but right now he couldn’t decide whether you were pranking or joking.

He didn’t understand the difference between pranking and joking, either.

“I- What? No, I mean I am a human, but my name is Y/N,” you were definitely amused at his seriousness, yet you couldn’t help but be intimidated by his tall figure. Also, you felt bad that he was holding all the groceries, so you decided to grab one of the bags from him.

“Y/N!” He stopped dead in his tracks after your fingers brushed against his, “I just remembered you can’t bear the cold after 6pm, so you have to wear many clothes to protect yourself. You’re already so cold,” he felt your hand, and his was so warm and felt right, intertwined in your hand. His hand was so huge, that it enveloped yours easily, and you could really notice the size difference now.

He quickly transferred all the grocery bags into his left hand, and continued to give you his coat, and held your hand again, and it felt… nice. The fact that he smelled so good, helped too, you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but it was really comforting.

You were quite used to the stares you got on the streets from other Jubals, and always thought that they would go away, but it’s been two weeks, yet they still continue to look at you up and down, so you finally asked him. You still didn’t know his name, and didn’t know whether you should ask him or not, was it insulting?

“Why does everyone keep staring at me?”

“Because you’re so cute,”

What. It was almost like you forgot how to breathe. How could he say that all of a sudden, out of the blue? Also, you actually could not breathe, because while he had long legs that lasted for days, you had much smaller legs and it was starting to get hard to keep up.

“Hey! Could you walk-” you took in a breath, wow, your stamina was really, uh, shitty, “could you walk a little slow?”

He looked back at you, and tilted his head almost as to ask ‘why?’, but understood quickly. Then, he flashed one of his cute smiles, again, the smile that did things to your heart that you hadn’t felt before.

“Do you want me to carry you?” He also had read previously that humans can get really tired, and sometimes not even have the strength to move on. Especially females, they were more fragile, and he could physically see that too, because you were just so small. The average height was supposed to be 5’4 or even 5’6 for human females around your age, but you seemed smaller than that. But you also didn’t seem to be a child because those under the age 18 were always with their parents right? He had almost started to doubt those textbooks he bought on humans.

“No, I can walk myself,” You tried to defend yourself, and started to mentally curse as to why you asked him to slow down.

You finally reached your apartment door. Honestly, you had thought that he would stop following you after you reached the apartment building… but he just continued to bring the groceries in.

Should you invite him in? Did you even clean your living space? You probably had your underwear lying all over the place, since now you lived alone and had no fear of someone else coming in your private space.

“Can I come in?”

Well, you didn’t want to say no to him, he’s been really nice so far, and you had to admit, picking up groceries was really hard to do, and you weren’t exactly physically active enough to carry all those bags that he easily carried in one hand.

He then walked himself to the door after putting the groceries in the kitchen. What really surprised you was how he looked back at you, not how he looked before. Before, he looked with warmth, and now. Now, he almost towered at you, reminding how much power he really has over you. He looked at your lips, and then back at your eyes and tilted his head.

“W-well, it was really nice to meet you,” you said trying to break the tension and to distract yourself from the obviously gorgeous man.

“I hope to see your cute face again soon,” he smiled one of his bunny smiles again, and kissed you on the cheek before disappearing under the stairs.

You curled yourself up in your blanket, and tried to sleep, but that Jubal kept intruding your thoughts.

Would you get to see him again?

The next time you saw the cute Jubal from the grocery store was next week Saturday. On Earth, entertainment was in the form of movies, arcades and concerts. Similarly, here too, people had a theatre – instead of a movie on a projector, it was shown in 3D form, almost like a live performance, expect there were holographic figures.

You looked around, and by now you had taken into account that Jubal people weren’t afraid to show off their skin – even though it was crazy cold here, their bigger bodies could compensate by giving them more body heat. Unfortunately, your smaller stature couldn’t provide you with the same amount of heat and you always had to bundle up in three or even four layers to keep yourself from freezing or catching a cold.

You were watching a really heated up scene, and it was getting kind of… uncomfortable. While others were simply watching casually, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, you kept shuffling in your seat – so it was a pleasant surprise when you felt someone cover your eyes from behind you.

“Wha-” instinctively, you looked behind, and it was the same boy (or man?), from the grocery store.

“Hey,” again, you waved at him, almost as a form of habit, and he looked at you as if you did something quite weird. Without any questions, he tried to imitate you, but he was really stiff so you couldn’t help but let you a laugh.

“I know I didn’t introduce myself much better last time, but we don’t really have names. Still, I decided to get one for myself, because once I get a human, she should be able to call me something,”

Did he… did he mean that you were his human?

“Well, what did you settle for?”

“My name is 01001010 01001011. I thought it was really similar to the ones that humans have. Do you like it?” He asked with a proud grin, as his face lit up.

You tried to keep your laughter in, you really did but you when it did come out, you felt like wanting to die. His face crumpled up almost as if he was ashamed of his name as he increased the distance between the two of you.

Nice one, Y/N, you made the only person who cared enough for you sad.

“Hey, look, it’s a nice name, it’s just not very human-like,” you explained to him.

“It’s the binary code for a human name,”

Because of the constant conversation you both were immersed in, the Jubals beside you were starting to get annoyed – and while they didn’t say anything, probably because they didn’t want you to feel bad (you still did, for trying to ruin their experience for this live-movie thing), you decided to head out with him.

As you both walked in one of the main parks situated in the middle of Corellia state, he settled on a spot in the corner of the massive area.

“Would you like to give me a name?” he looked at your face with such intensity, that you couldn’t help but feel insecure and want to cover your face.

“Well, what did those binary numbers represent?” you really did want to help his get a name, after all, he was your first friend here.

“I want to be called JK, but my friends told me it was a ridiculous human name, because no one was named JK before. So I settled for its binary number. They approved of that,” his eyes shone of much when he talked about it, his long lashes were uprightly curved and you couldn’t help but swoon.

You fiddled with your sweater as you gave him suggestions, but none seemed to suit him.

“Jake? No,” you were starting to get frustrated at this, “Hm, maybe Jacob?” you shook your head again, unsatisfied.

He just simply continued to laugh at you being so serious, occasionally playing with hair and pressing a finger to your soft cheeks. When he commented on you being soft, you couldn’t help but blush (and when he compared you to one their red fruits, you couldn’t help but blush harder (you denied it, obviously)).

“Jungkook!” you remember reading that word in one of the books you had in high school literature.

“Jungkook? Do you like it, baby?” He played with your cheeks with happiness, he was happy that you were no longer frustrated or angry. Finally satisfied and happy. Of course, you blushed at the word of endearment, but didn’t tell him to not say it.

Oh. Well, after that, he just continued to ask you about humans, and more specifically about you. You were amused by most of his questions,

“What is sarcasm?”

“Why do you like pizza so much, when it’s detrimental for your health? You shouldn’t eat it, I’ll make good food for you,”

“How do you make stereotypes?”

“Why do people get cosmetic surgery?”

And each one of them seemed normal for a Jubal to ask until,

“Why do humans like cuddling?”

At this point, you were quite tired, but still thought it would rude to ask him out, because he seemed really curious, every question coming right after you answer the last one.

“I guess, we just like to be touchy and close,” you said and you tried to suppress a yawn, but it just slipped.

“What was that? Was that a sigh? Or a yawn? Are you tired? That was so cute, do it again,”

“Just a little tired,” you said as you rested you head on his shoulder without realizing to do so. It was also getting really cold; the second moon had started to show up.

You both got up, and the walk back home was really pleasant. He kept cracking jokes and dancing on the pavement. You tried to imitate his dance, but your flow wasn’t as steady as his. How could someone dance so good like this, yet not be able to wave correctly? Your fingers intertwined again, and you leaned more into his body this time. You could barely reach his mid chest, that’s how tall he was. But somehow, you didn’t mind it because you both fit so perfectly – as if two parts of one puzzle.

As you reached the door of your apartment door again, you felt Deja-vu. He looked at your face, studying it carefully and looking back at your eyes, however instead of just looking at your lips this time, he leaned closer and looked back at you – almost as if asking for permission to kiss you. You nodded, and wow.

As his lips drew closer to yours, you could feel him cupping your face with both hands, one of them gradually descending to the back of your head as it found its place in your hair. They were incredibly soft, and almost overpowered you, because you didn’t expect this. As he slid his tongue and slowed himself, you found yourself wanting more, leaning towards him.

Before realizing that you needed to breathe, you started to choke, as he pulled himself back, and chuckled before saying, “Baby girl, take it slow, I’m all yours.”

“Want more,” is all you can say before leaning towards him, wanting to kiss him again. But unlucky for you, he just moved back before laughing again, and this time you pouted and slightly punched his chest.

“Now, you’re just being a brat, baby, you’ll get what I’ll give you, understand?” You could feel his breath fanning your face, and his eyes were no longer twinkling like they did, but instead were full of lust and an animalistic hunger.

‘’Jungkook, please,” you had never really been serious with boys in your high school, and so, this was the first time you had actually felt something down there. It was almost like someone – or Jungkook – lit a fire in your core, and you couldn’t help but just want more.

Fumbling hands opened the door to the apartment and you both tumbled in, messily but both of you didn’t care as you headed to your bedroom. On the way, he messily kissed your neck that made your knees buckle in a way that even walking was difficult.

He tossed you gently on your bed, that was way too big for the apartment, and ran his fingers through your hair, to you neck, and to your chest. He attacked your neck again, and started to form a pattern with his tongue as he pressed harder on some areas and trailed lighter on others.

You couldn’t help but let a whine escape your mouth when he left your neck unattended to take off your sweaters and cardigans till you were only in your undergarments and a see-through white dress.

“Fuck, baby girl, you’re so beautiful,” he said as he attacked your lips again, this time being harsher with his movements, as his tongue slipped in your mouth, doing wonders to his body.

“J-Jungkook, please,” you felt so much, so sudden, and even in this cold, the heat was too much for you – the heat inside you wanted to escape, but you didn’t know how to ask him.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you want,” his amused voice made it obvious as to what you wanted, but still he continued to tease you, torment you, put you on the edge, “Tell daddy what you want,”

You took in a gasp as he unbuckled your bra strap from behind, free-ing your breasts, and the very next second, tore your fragile dress.

“Hm, tell me baby girl,” he asked you once again, as he took in one of you nipples in his mouth, his tongue encircling your bud, as one of his hands pinched the other one.

“Jungkook I-” you gasped as you felt a slap on your clit, it wasn’t that harsh because he was being careful, and you were still in your panties – but it just turned you on more.

“Baby, you have to call me Daddy, do you understand?” he said as his free wrist kept putting pressure on the top of you panties, making you want to rip them off, so you could finally feel him where you wanted to.

“Yes,” you said, and whined after he took off his mouth from your nipple to look at you, and after a second you understood what you had to say, “Yes Daddy, I understand,”

“Such a good girl for me, so pretty,” he said as he kissed your cheek, and you just couldn’t stop blushing. He was so harsh, yet so gentle at the same time – and it made your head spin.

“Now, be a good baby, and tell Daddy what you want him to do to you,” he said as he neared your ear, “does baby want daddy to wreck her pussy?”

You couldn’t help but shiver before speaking, “I want Daddy to make me feel good,”

His fingers slowly trailed your body, making you moan and buckle your body up towards him. You looked at him, his ears tinged red, and his eyes were darker than before, he almost looked like a fallen angel. He chuckled, looking at you seem so helpless, so fragile.

You were so soft, so ethereal, like an angel from the sky and he was there to taint you, to make you his.

He teased you by playing with the band of your underwear, he put two fingers in your mouth and you instantly slicked them with your saliva, making obscene noises that blended in with your moans. Then he trailed those two fingers right above your covered clit, and you couldn’t help but buckle up again, wanting those two fingers inside of you.

“Be patient, princess,” and it felt like an eternity as he circled his tongue in your belly button and it so, so, so slowly trailed down and down, and he finally took off your panties with his teeth.

“So wet, baby, you’re making a mess,” he commented as he rubbed you with one finger, and using the other one to encircle your hole. He pushed it a little inside, easily as your slick helped him, before looking back at you to see if you were comfortable, and when he got the green light, he continued to push it entirely in, “Such a good baby for me, think you can handle Daddy’s cock?”

You nodded in exasperation, his finger was long and hit all the right spots, but you needed more. He added another finger, while rubbing your clit with more pressure and making circle patterns with his tongue below your belly button. You were so near, so so near, you just needed that one push off the edge.

“Well, you’re going to have to work for Daddy’s cock, baby, think you can take this monster?” He took out his finger with a pop, as soon as he felt you clench down on his finger.

“Daddy, f-fuck me, please,” you moaned, missing his touch. He looked just as a mess as you were, panting and taking off his shirt. You continued to admire his body, he didn’t look buff like gym rats, but instead he had a lean, slightly muscular body.

He continued to tease you by biting his lip and taking off his boxers extremely slowly. You whimpered when his cock was free against his stomach, and it was bigger than any you’ve been before while watching porn. It was even bigger than the dildo your friend bought as a joke for your birthday present, and you had started to doubt if he would fit inside of you.

“Suck Daddy if you want to cum, princess,” he groaned as he pumped himself a couple of times before you put your mouth on his head.

Not having any experience before, you didn’t really know how to start, but you gave little kitten licks at his head, and then took it in your heated mouth. He didn’t taste how you had imagined, instead it was more like a salted caramel toffee you had, it was delicious and you wanted more. You continued to take more, and more of him and suddenly gagged because you couldn’t take anymore – only to realize you had only taken half his dick in your mouth.

“Can’t handle more? I guess you’re too small for Daddy’s big cock, huh?”

The thought of his not fucking you was almost terrifying at this point and you continued to let your throat loose and tale more of him, until you felt his cock twitch, which made you moan. Tears spilled out as he fucked your throat, fast and hard.

“Such a good, pretty baby for daddy, taking my cock so good, princess,” he groaned before pushing in it a couple of times and taking it out.

“Such a naughty baby, making Daddy almost cum,” he kissed you again, tasting his own cum, before dipping down again, “you need to be punished, huh?”

“Daddy, please t-touch me,” you whined, grabbing his hand and putting it in between your thighs, and surprisingly he slapped your inner thigh.

“Being such a bratty baby now, I guess I do need to punish you, you don’t deserve Daddy’s fingers,” he said trailing again lightly all over body, but stopping as soon as he neared where you needed him the most, “touch yourself,”

You were dumbfounded, but when you saw his serious look, you shyly dipped your finger into your heat, and circled them around, but even after two fingers, it just wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more.

“Daddy, please, I c-can’t, I need you,” you cried out while rubbing yourself between your legs, filled with your slick.

“Such a needy princess, always demanded Daddy,” he tsked before adding two fingers inside you, and as you gasped, “but Daddy adores you, so he’ll help his pretty little baby,”

You moaned, not holding back, as he pumped those fingers, and let his tongue work magic on your clit. He continuously pumped his fingers back and forth, while torturing your bud and the heat inside of you kept growing and before you realized it, “Jungkook, I’m going to cum!”

“Cum on my fingers, baby, go on,” his movements became more faster and you trembled under gaze, and unconsciously arched your back before letting yourself loose. It felt like heaven.

Even after this, you had been surprised to see that he didn’t stop and the stimulation was too much for you, as you tried to get away from him, but he held you in place, his wrist holding your pelvic in place.

Despite your whimpering and moans, he took his mouth to your perked up nipple again, and scissored his fingers, to prepare you for his cock. Then, he looked at you, cupped you face and kissed you again, this time more soft, as if you were a china doll, going to break at any given moment.

After letting his dick sit on your bud, he slowly let the head of his cock find your entrance and pushed it slightly. You let out a cry, he was too big for you, but he shushed you and pressed against your lips again before letting it enter little by little. You quickly grab his upper arm and clench it, the pain and pleasure were starting to combine again and you nodded, letting him know that it was okay to continue.

The raw emotion in his eyes was enough to let you go on, and when you were finally full, you looked down only to find you could only take half of him, he was just too big for you.

“Baby, fuck, you’re too tiny, can’t even take all of me,” he groaned before moving slowly, and then finally setting a pace that was safe, but unsatisfactory for you.

“J-Jungkook, f-fas-ter please,” you whined as he started becoming harsher, and his finger started abusing your bud again, and you couldn’t help but realize you were close again. This time, it felt more intense, more powerful.

He was so big, that you could feel him everywhere, it almost felt like he was ripping you apart, but the pleasure was almost overwhelming and the way his cock filled you up made you insatiable – you just wanted more, and more. You could feel your walls being pushed everything he buckled inside you, but he just did it so right.

“Baby, you’re so cute, gonna cum for Daddy?” he kissed your nipple and trailed up to your lips before diving a tongue into your moaning mouth. You nodded, and felt your second release come near.

“J-Jungkook, you feel so good,” you moaned as your walls clenched around his cock, and finally you gushed out, and trembled as you rode your orgasm. Simultaneously, he too, slammed his hips a couple times before cumming deep into you. As he took himself out, cum poured out of you, and he chuckled before taking it and spreading it over your face. Globs of cum covered your red cheeks and entered your mouth.

“You look so pretty with my cum on you face, keep it there until tomorrow morning,” he kissed your nose and coo-ed when you squirmed in embarrassment.

You could feel tugging and pulling when you felt someone wake you up and instinctively, you said, “Just five more minutes.”

“But you said that the last time,” Jungkook looked at you, his breathe fanning your face.

Too close, too close, too close. You looked at other way and tried to close your eyes.

“You’re so cute, like a small puppy,” he coo-ed at you, making your stomach feel things you’ve never felt before.

“I- I’m not like a puppy!” You tried to fight back in your sleep, but couldn’t help the blush forming on your cheeks and ears.

You could feel the dried up cum on your face, and wanted to wash it off, but feeling too sore to move.

“Can’t move, princess? Was Daddy’s cock too much for you, last night?” he coo-ed at you, mumbling about how cute you were, and how he wanted to baby you and make you his.

“I’m too sore, Kookie,” you whined into the pillow and were taken by surprise when he lifted you and carried you to the tub.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of my little human baby girl,” he said as he laid you in the lukewarm water and washed your body softly.

CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO

You were starting to feel more at home, even more than when you were at Earth.

A/N: That’s a wrap! Hope you like it. Go to master link for more!

#bts smut #Jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts reader insert #bts preferences #bts #jungkook bts #jungkook scenarios #Jungkook #jungkook reader insert #jungkook reaction #jungkook x reader #Jungkook daddy #jungkook fluff

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hello-everyfandom · 3 years

Text

“On my heart, Love.”

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Words: 2k

Summary: You’re tutoring Peter in Herbology and James loves to distract you.

(Enjoy! A little James Potter heals all wounds)

James Potter was widely known, across the grounds of Hogwarts, to be quite arrogant and rather self-absorbed. In classes he was the student who sat in the back making snarky comments back to the Professor and the student who, along with his friends, were quite mischievous. It seemed that James Potter had quite a large head, being quite popular as well as star Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. So, by the time you were appointed to tutor Peter Pettigrew on Herbology, you were fully aware of the presence of Mr. James Potter. It was quite frequent that Peter’s friends interrupted study sessions and you, sadly, had gotten used to the presence of James’ big head.

“Peter,” you sighed, “You really must focus, and I do not say this as your tutor who wants you to do well, but literally because if you do not study these plants and you could actually die in class.”

Peter, who sat next to you, groaned loudly, “But why!” Peter whined making you snicker.

“Why!!” you mocked him in a childish voice, “Because if you aren’t careful in dissecting and are too busy staring at the butterflies, a Venomous Tentacula will snap it’s jaws at you and well...” you clicked your tongue, “I’m afraid you fresh out of luck then.”

Peter sat up and grinned, “You know what?”

“What?” you responded,

“You may be the cruelest Ravenclaw I’ve ever met.”

“Peter,” you pretended to coo, “that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Peter held his hands up, “I tell the truth and nothing but the truth.”

You snorted, “Yeah, right.”

As the two of you continued to read through the textbook, Peter took notes on exactly what you said. It was peaceful studying until you heard two heavy footsteps marching towards you.

“Wormtail!” Sirius Black emerged. He flopped onto the bench next to Peter and slung his arm around him. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Taking the intellectual advantage of this poor lady, here.” James Potter answered his friend, pulling the chair next to you out abruptly.

“Learning about Venomous Tentacula,” Peter shoved Sirius Black’s hand away from his notes.

“And Remus can’t teach you this hub-bub?” Sirius raised his eyebrow. Peter shook his head.

“Absolutely not. Y/N is the best there is.”

James cocked his head. “Is that so? She’s the best there is in...” he paused to look at the cover of your textbook, “Herbology?”

You were quick in response, “She sure is. And, now that it has been mentioned, she is also quite skilled in the art of jinxes and hexes. Though my word may not be enough to suffice, would you prefer to see an example?”

Your voice was cool but the threat of making James Potter’s fingers into feathers and his nose into a beak was quite prominent. Sirius Black let out a bark of a laugh, holding his chest as he laughed. Peter watched amusedly as his best friend and his tutor (and admittedly also his friend) began to bicker.

“Alright, alright,” James grinned back, “Y/L/N, you’ve won. Don’t unleash your wrath onto poor me.”

“Yes, Y/L/N,” Sirius added, “I’m not sure he could take the humiliation.”

Peter nodded and continued to tease, “His ego is too fragile, like a little teacup.”

“You know what,” James defended, “You’re all pricks, and the only one I respect here is Y/L/N, purely because she knows how to properly articulate an insult.”

“Insult?” you grinned, “You are not worth my time to insult, love. Think of my teasing to be nothing but a mere brain exercise.”

James Potter bit his lip to hold back a smile, “I love nothing more than to be considered a brain exercise of yours.”

Sirius groaned disgustedly, “Alright, enough with the flirting.” He stood and brushed off his trousers dramatically, “Pete, we came to announce that we are going to find the Pixies that Professor Kettleburn keeps locked away and unleash them on some first years.”

Peter immediately looked at you with little begging eyes, “Please! Please Y/N, can I go?”

“We still have to study!” you protested, “Peter, you have an exam on this tomorrow!”

“He’ll be fine!” Sirius pulled Peter up, slinging his arm around him again, “Pete’s been tutored by the best.”

“But-” before you could protest further, Sirius dragged Peter away, ruffling his hair. You sighed loudly and began to clean up the notes and textbooks that littered the table.

“Don’t worry,” James said, leaning to hand you a book, “He’ll be fine.”

You sent him a knowing look, taking the book from his hand and placing it into your bag.“It’ll be on your head if he gets a low mark.”

“I swear on my soul,” James put his hand on his heart, “If he gets a mark lower than Acceptable, I will sit here, myself, and help you tutor him.”

You let out a laugh, “As if.”

“Swear on my heart!” James called as you walked away.

“Then I’ll see you next Thursday,” you waved your hand, not bothering to look back at him. James watched you walk away with a smile breaking his cheeks.

That Thursday, as you expected, Peter approached the study table with James in tow. Both of the marauders held their heads low.

“So, I’m assuming-”

“Your assumption is correct.” James answered solemnly.

“I thought so. James, I assume you will be joining us then?”

“Your assumption is,” he let out a breath of sad air, “correct.”

“Wonderful.” you grinned smugly back.

From then on, James Potter attended your study sessions, never late. At first, he absentmindedly looked around the room, busy enchanting paper cranes to fly and twirling his wand to make soft swirls of colours float around. You hated it. James Potter seemed to distract you, even if he didn’t try. He always came in, smelling of grass and cologne and would always reach up to run his fingers through his hair. Sometimes, he’d crane his neck to see what you were writing or make some witty comment that received a not so subtle eye roll from you.

You didn’t think he cared, not truly, and your blind prejudice made you begin to think James was only there because his ego would be bruised if he backed down from a promise. It was when James began to fly cranes too close to your face for your liking did you blow up.

“You know what.” you stood up, “If you are going to be a prick and distract poor Peter from his studies then you may as well not be here. No one is gaining anything by your presence,” you said rather harshly.

You turned quickly to go to the bathroom in order to cool off. As you rubbed some water on your face, you began to feel the guilt ride up your neck. You didn’t mean to talk so grating to Potter, you were just having a rough day with your own studies and your own academic life.

You paced back slowly to your study table feeling sorrowful and thinking of how you’d apologize to Potter. As you approached, you saw James with his arm slung over Peter. Squinting closer and making your steps quieter you could hear their hushed whispers.

“I’m going to fail,” Peter cried pathetically, his head was buried in his arms “I can’t do it, even with a tutor I am absolutely failing this god forsaken class. Maybe I should just drop out now.”

James clicked his tongue and shook his head, “Don’t say that, Worm. You’re not doing terribly, it will just take a few moments for it to truly click.”

“But you and Remus and Sirius are all doing better-”

“Sirius has skipped at least half of his classes this year and Remus has pulled out half his hair trying to study for O.W.L.S. Really, Worm,” James said seriously, “You’re doing better than any of us combined.”

“But-”

“Wouldn’t lie to you,” James patted his back encouragingly, “Besides, Herbology is one of the hardest courses for our year.”

“Really?” Peter asked, raising his head to look at his friend.

“Really really. Now clean yourself up, don’t want Y/L/N to see you in such a state. Why don’t you go grab a snack from the kitchens?”

Peter agreed, noting that a cookie may make himself feel better, and rose to recollect himself on the way to the kitchen. He didn’t see you in the shadows, looking in surprise at both Peter and James. You had no idea Peter had thought so harshly of himself, in fact, he was steadily improving in his studies. You hugged your arms and walked towards James who was leaning backwards in his chair. He straightened up when he saw you and cleared his throat.

“You’re looking refreshed.” he commented, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

You paused before saying, “Thank you.”

“Listen-”

“Listen-” the two of you said at the same time. You both looked at each other, unable to keep a smile off of your faces. Yours was small, shy even whilst his was large and cheeky.

“You go first,” he waved his hand.

“I wanted to apologize,” you whispered lowly, fiddling with your nails, “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I thought... well I thought-”

“Thought I was a prick?”

“Precisely,” the two of you laughed together.

“But, seriously, I am sorry,” you acknowledged seriously.

“I am too,” James answered back, “I know it has been... less than pleasant with me being around your study dates.”

“Study period,” you corrected.

“Whatever it’s called. The truth is...” James looked around to see if Peter had miraculously appeared and let out a sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair in a stressed manner, “The truth is... Peter is a little bit embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” you asked incredulously.

“He feels as though he isn’t doing as well as he should... and I... well, I attend your study sessions to cheer him up a bit.”

“Oh.” you mumbled.

“And, I-” James seemed to struggle a bit trying to find his word, “I suppose I try and distract you so Peter doesn’t feel like all the attention is on him.”

“Oh.”

It grew quiet between you two. James stared at you, scratching the back of his neck nervously. You bit your cheek, wondering what you could say.

“But-”

“But?” you interrupted.

“But... that doesn’t mean... I don’t want to come.”

“Oh?” your voiced curiously.

“I mean,” he laughed, almost a little embarrassedly, “I guess I come for Peter, but I also come... for you?” he trailed off quieter and quieter, blushing a bit.

“For me?”

James glanced at you. He saw your smile, one he had grown to love. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

“Is that all you can say? ‘Oh’?” James mocked lightly. You shoved his arm and he acted as if he were being punched. “Do I render you speechless?” James’ eyebrows wiggled.

“Wow,” you whistled, “Just as you were beginning to warm my heart, you decided to go and be a prick again.” you teased back.

“No no!” James exclaimed, “I can go back to being cute.” The two of you smiled at each other, no longer feeling the awkwardness in the air.

“James Potter,” you observed slowly, “you’re a good friend.”

He began to flush, his ears went red and he waved his hand, “What are mates for?”

“I guess you’re right,”

“Does that mean you’ll let me stay for study sessions?”

You pretended to think, tapping a finger on your lips, “I suppose so.” James cheered loudly. Your eyes widened at his cheer and quickly shushed him.

“And then maybe... we can-”

“Can what?”

“Meet... for something other than studying?” James Potter, the boy who was charming and confident grew nervous waiting for your reply.

“We’ll see.” you finally answered, making James let out an exhale of relief. “But only if Peter gets higher than Acceptable on his essay.”

James leaned in close to you, “On my heart, Love.”

And yes, with much studying and preparation from both you and James, Peter received an O.

#james potter #james potter imagine #james potter imagines #james potter fanfic #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fic #marauders #marauders imagines #marauders imagine #sirius black imagine #marauders fic

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starkskypines · 3 years

Note

Hi Kylie! Your prompts look so cool!

How about 19 for any Star Wars characters of your choosing?

Hi KT!!! Thank you for this prompt and sorry it took so long! Also this one is a bit long at 2k words.

19 “we’ll sit and talk the stars down from the sky”: you know that dinluke trope where luke and din enter a political marriage? Yeah.

>>>

There’s a moment, just a moment, where Luke feels the entire weight of Mandalorian armor with a full-size male in it crash into his body. He realizes in that singular moment that he was wrong earlier when he asserted that no Mandalorian was a match for skill in the Force. Because if this Mandalorian was actually fighting him, he would be hard-pressed to recover from a blow like this. And given how much time Mandalorians spend training to counter Jedi fighting techniques, Luke doesn’t think he’d actually be able to win a fight against a fully trained Mandalorian. He’s had limited combat training himself. Just what he learned from Rebellion fighters. He’s skilled with his lightsaber, but Mandalorians are quick to disarm. They know how to defeat a Jedi and Luke hasn’t ever thought about how to defeat a Mandalorian before. Well, perhaps Boba Fett for a second on Tatooine, but he was busy and didn’t have time to realize exactly how skilled the armored man would be had Luke had time to fight him. He’s glad he didn’t because he has a feeling that would be embarrassing. Just like it’s going to be embarrassing when Paz makes him put his words to action. For now though, they’ve got other concerns.

The weight lifts after that moment and Luke is free-falling through the air. The wind rushes across his cheeks, hurting his ears just a bit, and making his eyes water. He closes his eyes and lets himself fall. The Force allows him to be aware of the ground below, the currents of the air, Paz fighting nearby, Din moving beside him. Both of them quiet confidence and brutal efficiency. Din is softer than Paz though, but Luke thinks he’s biased. Din is his husband after all.

Luke lands gracefully on the ground thanks to the Force slowing his fall. He looks back up to the clifftop where Din and Paz are still fighting. He can’t be of much help to them down here, but he doesn’t really think they need his help. Not like that. Sure they need him to strengthen ties to the Republic, but they don’t really need his skills as a Jedi. He’s glad they don’t hate him for that though, not like they used to in the beginning of all this.

But still, Luke isn’t one to sit out of a fight. So he gathers the Force around him and hops his way up the hundred-foot cliff to rejoin the fray.

The fight is over quickly when it’s a bunch of pirates against two Mandalorians and a Jedi.

***

“So, you want to reconsider your position on being able to take me down after seeing me fight?” Paz asks.

They’re cooking food over the campfire. Din claimed that Paz is the best cook, so just let him do it. Luke doesn’t like being unhelpful, but he allows Paz to cook. He was raised on Tatooine so his abilities allow him to make edible food but nothing that really excites the palate.

“I did challenge you.” Luke isn’t going to back down now, even if it means he gets his butt kicked in front of a public crowd. “But yes, I am worried I might lose.”

“Might?” Paz scoffs under the helmet. “Jetii, you will lose.”

“We’ll just have to see won’t we.” Luke smirks, something Leia says makes him look like an infuriating child who’s been listening to Han for too long.

“Sorry about pushing you off the cliff.” Paz shrugs. “Thought you’d live but still, Din says I should’ve warned you first or something.”

“It’s rude to push people off cliffs,” Din says.

“I was fine. It was fun actually. You know we might be able to turn that into something to be used during a fight. If we have to drop in, or fight from ship to ship in mid-air. You’ve got the jetpack, but I’ve got the Force so mid-air fighting could have some interesting possibilities.”

Paz laughs. “You bet we can work on that. You’re sticking around this time right? Didn’t come just to challenge me to a fight?”

“I’ve got time to stay. I can’t get funding to search out Jedi temples and artifacts until next year, so I’ve got a little while to get to know Mandalorian customs.”

“Well, rule one, we don’t take off the helmets,” Paz says although Luke already knows that and scoops out a bowl of stew and hands it to Luke.

“Thank you,” Luke says and stands to go find somewhere else to eat.

He settles down against a rock that overlooks a small clearing in the forest. It’s a fairly rocky world, giant rocks forming cliff faces, and other smaller ones dotting the landscape, a break against the green and brown of the grass fields and forests.

Luke has almost finished his bowl of soup when Din joins him. It’s not unusual for the armored man to seek him out. Usually to discuss something related to politics or culture or Grogu. Now that conversation had almost ruined the marriage. Din said no to training and Luke pushed and well...it had almost come to blows. Luke is a Jedi. He knows how to help Grogu. Sometimes he wishes he could do more, but that’s not his role here. One of the first Force-sensitives he finds and he can’t hardly speak to the child. It’s a good lesson for the future though. The Jedi’s reputation as child-snatchers is pervasive.

Din is quiet as he settles against the rock, his shoulder brushing Luke’s briefly before he pulls away. It’s the most touching Luke ever gets from him. He’s not sure he exactly wants more, but something warmer would be nice. But again, there’s only one point to this marriage, and it’s not Luke’s happiness.

“Why do you want to find Jedi temples?” Din asks.

“I’m a Jedi, and I hardly know anything about our culture. A lot was erased by the Empire. If I’m to train the next generation of knights, then I need to know what kind of people I’m inviting them to become. You can be Force-sensitive without being a Jedi. You can get training without being a Jedi. It’s a choice you have to make. I want to make sure everyone is informed before making that choice.”

“You can train as a Jedi and not be a Jedi?”

It’s not hard for Luke to see who he’s thinking of, but he doesn’t want to break the calm by bringing up Grogu.

“Yes. I’ve trained Leia how to control her powers and how to a do a few other things she was interested in. She doesn’t have the time to really be a Jedi, but she can’t just let her skills die out when they can be useful to her in any career.”

Din is quiet. “Grogu can’t sleep at night. I think it’s something Force-related.” Din pauses, and Luke gives him time to work out the correct words. “Could you–could you help?”

Luke nods and keeps his attention on the trees on the other side of the clearing. “I can try. What makes you think it’s Force-related?”

“Things move.”

Luke nods. “Let me talk to him when we get back, and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

“Not alone.”

“No, not alone. You’d be there of course,” Luke pauses and can’t help but adding, “I’m not trying to separate families. I’m building something different than the old Order.”

“You know you could get anything you wanted if you threatened him.”

Luke turns to Din then. “You think I’d do that?”

Din shrugs.

Luke turns away. He can’t really blame Din for thinking that. Jedi don’t have a good reputation in Mandalorian circles, let alone the son of Darth Vader. Clearly he can’t be trusted. The minute that little tidbit came out he and Leia lost a lot of standing in the New Republic. He’d convinced Leia to spin it so that it looked like Luke was the one more like Vader. The black clothes, the lightsaber, the fact that Luke had spent time alone with Vader and the Emperor on the second Death Star. It took the heat off Leia enough that she could make headway in the Senate, but the rumors and distrust still haunted them both.

“Maybe not, but if the New Republic asked you to.”

Luke wants to laugh at the absurdity, but here he is married to a Mandalorian because the New Republic asked him. It’s not his fault he was the only one that knew the Mandalor and his son. The seeing stone worked, but Din had changed his mind by the time Luke responded to the call.

“Well, I’m not in the business of betraying my husband,” Luke finally responds.

It’s silent as the insects begin to chirp, their symphony drowning out the silence. Luke should be the one to head back to camp, but he always feels the way Paz and Din don’t want him there. He aches for the day he can make a place of his own where he is wanted. Not even as a friend. He has Han and Leia and Chewie for that. But maybe as a leader, or just someone helpful, just someone that can be trusted.

“I don’t remember much about my parents,” Din starts suddenly, “Hardly anything in fact. But I remember when Mom and Dad fought she’d turn to him and say, ‘no, we’ll sit and talk the stars down from the sky.’ It was her way of ending the argument. I didn’t get it at the time, but it stuck with me. I think it means that when you lay all your cards on the table, there’s no more secrets or hidden motives that can cause arguments.”

Luke tilts his head a bit to look toward Din’s visor. He can’t make out the lines well in the darkness, but he knows Din is looking at him too.

“I can’t trust you, because I can’t trust anybody.”

“That’s a lonely way to live.”

“It’s not good for Grogu. I’m too protective, but I can’t–I can’t lose him.” Din nods once, as if coming to his own conclusion. “If he could defend himself–using the Force–”

Luke waits and Din doesn’t continue. Luke takes a risk and places his hand on Din’s arm. Din flinches but resettles.

“It will take time for you to trust me. I know. But I am willing to sit and talk the stars down from the sky as long as it takes for you to trust me. For no other reason than I think you’re right about Grogu needing to be able to protect himself, and I don’t like the air of loneliness that I get from both of you.”

Din puts his hand over Luke’s.

“Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

Din shakes his head, the silver metal catching the reflection of moonlight from the rising moon. “You aren’t. You just like people to think you are.”

Luke can’t deny that, but he’s surprised that Din picked up on it.

“So why do you do that?”

Luke settles back against the rock. He goes to pull his hand away but Din holds on, and it doesn’t take much for Luke to intertwine his fingers through Din’s and open his mouth. He doesn’t think Din realizes just how much power he has over Luke in this moment because Din doesn’t know how much Luke wants Din to like him. He wants to be his friend and confidante and sometimes–like now–he wants permission to hold Din’s hand in the moonlight as the insects create a symphony that drowns out the fear that comes with opening up. Or maybe that’s just Din’s presence. The simple way he listens without judgment. The fact that Luke can sense his emotions if they spike, but otherwise he doesn’t really know what’s going on behind the mask, so Luke can pretend that it’s a soft smile and warm eyes as he tells truths very few are privy to.

#prompt fill #dinluke #this might be one of my favorite things i've written #skydalorian #luke skywalker #din djarin #dinluke fic #skydalorian fic #the mandalorian #paz viszla

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imomomi · 4 years

Photo

Extra:

Atsumu wasn’t sure what he was expecting when Y/N said she was bringing her friends. Hell, if he was being honest, he’d never even expected her and Suna to get along as well as they did. But, the two girls that arrived were vaguely familiar and leveled him with glares so deadly, he instantly worried that he’d rejected them at some point. Y/N was oblivious to the stare off, searching the ground for the spot with the most grass. Atsumu rolled his eyes and tossed her his blazer. She didn’t say thank you and he didn’t really care to hear it.

Her friends tossed their things onto the ground as Y/N made a blanket out of his blazer and sat down. Iwanuma and Ota greeted him, bitingly adding that they were cheerleaders and that they hoped that Inarizaki would make it farther along this year.

“It’s not like you’d have anything else to cheer for if we don’t,” he said and then winced. Y/N frowned and raised a brow. Her eyebrows were usually the best indication of what kind of doom would follow. Once and only once, when he’d spilled a whole bottle of Pocari Sweat on her after winning a game in middle school, had her brows gone so high that he feared for his life.

“I’m here because no one else could stand to be in your presence, so shut up,” Y/N said. He rolled his eyes and stuffed the last of his onigiri into his mouth. The rice was bland in his mouth.

“Oh, no worries! We know he’s just joking,” said Ota with a cheery grin on her face. “Besides we never cheer for Atsumu-senpai.”

Atsumu blinked, head lolling to the side. He shook his head and laughed lightly. Guess Y/N had found more friends. The thought rung hollowly in his chest. It’s not like he cared much or needed that kind of shit anyway. He had Osamu, his teammates—even though some of them hated him—and volleyball. His brow furrowed and he fell strangely quiet, not noticing the three girls exchanging glances.

“Eat,” said Y/N and shoved a melon-pan into his hands. “It’s creepy if you’re watching us.” Her bento was freakishly neat, something Ota took delight in photographing.

“It’s always creepy. He has a pervert’s face,” said Iwanuma.

“Osamu has this face,” he defended. Y/N laughed sharply and shook her head. A tiny grin played at the corners of her mouth; eyes wrinkled at the corners.

“He wears it better,” she said, “I wish one of you had kept the black hair. It was nicer.”

“I look good! Everyone thinks so.”

“Who is everyone? The fangirls only want you because they think you’re going to be rich,” Y/N paused, turning to him with sharp eyes, “They haven’t heard you speak yet.”

“That’s not fair,” he whined, “I’m the older twin. I’m better looking. Come on, admit it.”

“What does being older have to do with looks? Won’t you just die faster?” asked Ota.

“That’s not the point,” he cried. The girls laughed together, the sound neither mocking nor scornful, but warm. Atsumu risked a glance at Y/N surprised to see that she was smiling freely. Though she wore her mask less often than she had in middle school, her face always carried an eerie calm that made it impossible to determine what she was feeling. Maybe it was because he’d know her for so long and spent summer’s figuring out what each twitch meant, but there was something comforting in being able to read her face.

They settled into light conversation, talking about school and their classes. They touched briefly on entrance exams, attempting to skim past the conversation when Ota voiced her displeasure at being the younger of the group. Atsumu knew that Y/N had her heart set on Tokyo, but he’s surprised to learn that it was because of her cousins.

“Volleyball,” he answered when they turn to him.

“Any team?” Iwanuma asked.

“The Jackals.”

“Holy shit,” Ota exclaimed and immediately covered her mouth with her hands. “You’re like good good.”

“Duh, he got called up to Youth Japan,” hissed Iwanuma, “What did you think? He’s dramatic, but it’s not without anything to back it up.”

“Dramatic?” asked Atsumu. He leaned back and rested on his elbows, grass digging into his white button down. Y/N made a noise between a squeak and a hiccup as he did and lurched forward. He swatted her away, smiling at the scowl that instantly formed on her face.

“THE SERVE ROUTINE,” Ota shouted. She stood up instantly and backed away a few paces. He groaned as she took four steps forward and thrust a fist in the air.

“No, no,” said Y/N to his surprise. His eyes widened as she stood too. What alternate universe had he walked into? Y/N mimicked his actions perfectly, down to the way he walked, and when Iwanuma started laughing, she leveled a heavy glare at her that was all too familiar. Atsumu choked and laughed so hard, tears sprung to his yes.

“Oi, sit down,” he ordered, “You’re all a bunch of scrubs.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” asked Ota.

“Doesn’t matter. Just don’t try that on M-1, you’re awful,” he shook his head. Ota jumped on Y/N’s back, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek that was immediately wiped off.

When they’re done eating, he helped them clean up their stuff, not because he wanted to, but it felt like something Kita might have done and he’s all about channeling his ex-captain these days. Y/N lingered in the hall, letting her friends run off before her. Iwanuma dragged away a shouting Ota, who screeched the names of some boybands down the hall until she was no longer in sight.

“Where’d you meet those two clowns?” he asked. His blazer is tucked her arm with a promise to be washed and returned.

“Haru went to middle school with us,” she rolled her eyes at the look of confusion that crossed his face, “I tutored Mirai when she was a freshman.”

“You know, you’re kinda cute around them. A total tsundere.”

“Oh, shut up,” she huffed, cheeks turning a light pink, “I don’t need your inane flirting-“

“So, you admit it’s flirting. That seems like a step in the right direction.”

“Atsumu.”

“Y/N,” he mocked. She sighed and ran a hand over her face, staring at him with deeply ingrained exhaustion.

“We have practice later?”

“You can skip if you want. I’m pretty sure they deserve a break from their demon manager.”

“Your sets to Riseki need work. You’re the same height, but you keep tossing too high. He’s not playing on a trampoline; he can’t jump the way you want him to. Also, I think Osam-”

“Stop using your brain for a second. It’s stressing me out,” he breathed in deeply, putting a hand on her shoulder to force her to do the same, “Put it on paper and give it to me later. I’ll look at it.”

“Can you even read? You got a 10 on your last Japanese Literature exam.”

“I swear to god,” said Atsumu and inhaled sharply, “I’m this close to kissing you.”

“You demented pervert! This is why I don’t speak to you,” she shoved him away in an instant. The scent of her peach shampoo filed the air as she turned on her heel and stomped away. It was way too easy to rile her up, but somehow the thrill he got from doing it hadn’t gone away. Instead, he found himself looking for new reactions: little blushes, the way she ignored certain texts for hours, but would respond to others right away, sometimes he’d push just the right button and she’d throw something at him, usually her books, but once she’d pulled off a shoe and tossed it with a enough force to have given him a concussion had he not caught it.

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Text

Light on the Door (ao3) (WWX in the Nie sect) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3

Nie Mingjue had hoped, somehow, that he would be able to avoid having this conversation. He wasn’t sure how he intended to avoid it – fobbing it off on another family member was beneath his dignity, it was pretty much inevitable to need to happen at some point during adolescence, and no matter how tempting he wasn’t going to up and die just to avoid some awkwardness – he’d still been hopeful.

The time for hope, however wistful and unsustainable, was gone.

“I want to start by telling you that this is a normal development,” he said, trying to keep his tone straightforward and casual, and failing miserably by the expression on Wei Wuxian’s face. “When you start to get older –”

“Please tell me we are not having the sex talk,” Wei Wuxian said, his voice faint with horror. “I have read way too much porn to be having the sex talk with you.”

“I wish we were having the sex talk,” Nie Mingjue grumbled. “I could give you a book, tell you to ask me any questions you like, and call it a day. Sex isn’t even an embarrassing subject.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders loosened. “Good point. Okay. So what talk are we having?”

“The secrets of the Nie sect cultivation method talk,” Nie Mingjue said, a little dryly. “Or, as my father called it, ‘when a boy and his saber start feeling strange things about each other’.”

Wei Wuxian’s face suggested that he was, once again, suffering horribly and unjustly from the Nie clan sense of humor. Which he somehow shared, so Nie Mingjue didn’t know what he was complaining about.

“I’m going to ignore that,” Wei Wuxian eventually decided, “in favor of focusing on the key parts of that sentence, namely ‘secrets’. What secrets?”

“Our cultivation path starts in a manner that’s very similar to orthodox swordsmanship paths,” Nie Mingjue explained. “And we are open to guest cultivators and outer disciples continuing to practice that sort of path, but the main part of the Nie sect, especially the clan, practice something a little bit more…unorthodox.”

“Unorthodox,” Wei Wuxian said, sounding as if he were rolling the word around in his mouth to savor the taste. “What do you mean, unorthodox?”

Nie Mingjue decided to just cut to the chase. “We utilize resentful energy from shedding the blood of the evil creatures that we hunt to cultivate our sabers into saber spirits capable of fighting evil semi-independently.”

Wei Wuxian’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? That’s why I keep imagining that I can hear Suibian? Or, well, not hear…”

“Saber spirits don’t really talk, but they certainly have feelings,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Lots of them, sometimes.”

Baxia calmly radiated a fuck you too feeling at him, but in a fond sort of way.

“Mostly ‘I want to destroy evil’ feelings,” he added, because it was true.

Wei Wuxian still looked stunned, so Nie Mingjue figured it was time to continue explaining.

“In orthodox swordsmanship cultivation, only the most powerful cultivators have swords that obey only their master – but because we cultivate our sabers’ spirits, all of them only obey a single master. Because they’ve been cultivated through the shedding of blood, they’re full of resentful energy themselves; they become far more powerful, but also more difficult to control.”

“Qi deviation,” Wei Wuxian said, jumping ahead at least ten steps in the talk. “Because of the proximity to resentful energy?”

“Not proximity. We cultivate our sabers through our own cultivation – processing the resentful energy and purifying it so that our sabers stay true to our principles. As the saber’s cultivation grows, it becomes more difficult to process it without becoming unbalanced, and eventually, absent a breakthrough, it will result in a qi deviation. It’s the trade established by the founder of our sect: we gain the ability to defeat evil now, but we pay the price later.”

Wei Wuxian obviously didn’t like that, and Nie Mingjue didn’t want to jump straight into the ‘so eventually all men die and some sooner than others’ section of the talk anyway, so he pulled it back.

“You’ve reached the point in your cultivation where you’ve started to sense Suibian’s rage,” Nie Mingjue explained. “It will affect you, making your temper shorter and you more impulsive; you’ll need to keep a careful check on it…as much as is reasonable, anyway. I’m not exactly one to talk about keeping your temper.”

He tried. Very hard, even, and he mostly even succeeded in mastering his temper into more appropriate channels – look, he hadn’t once tried to stab any other sect leader over the table in a Discussion Conference, and he was sitting across from Jin Guangshan, a walking pustule with wandering hands and no morals; Jiang Fengmian, too lukewarm to do anything except apparently whine about how Wei Wuxian preferred to stay in the Nie sect; and Wen Ruohan, his father’s murderer, a narcissist with delusions that he deserved to be emperor of the world, and all around creep.

A few instances of having to excuse himself to go break a table or stab a wall was totally reasonable.

“You’ll go a lot more night-hunts from this point onwards, which will help you shed more blood and strengthen your saber further,” he continued. “But you have to remember at all times that your saber will reflect you; that means it’s your duty to cultivate it properly, to teach it to hate evil and value righteousness. Principles are just as important – no, more important – than increasing power.”

“I didn’t even know resentful energy could be used like that,” Wei Wuxian said blankly. “Isn’t it something we have to fight against? Or is it just – it’s energy. We use spiritual energy for the most part, but we use resentful energy for the sabers…couldn’t we use resentful energy for ourselves, too?”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes and flicked him in the forehead. “No. Using resentful energy without a channel is demonic cultivation.”

“So what?” Wei Wuxian said, his eyes bright. “If you can use it –”

“Are you made of steel?” Nie Mingjue interrupted. “Our sabers can absorb and redirect resentful energy without suffering from moral corrosion; even so, they eventually become fixated, obsessive, reckless and undiscriminating, which is why they need masters – someone who can direct them towards defeating evil when they lose the ability to tell the difference themselves. If you use resentful energy yourself, you yourself may become subject to those same issues, and where would you be?”

“Letting you and Nie Huaisang order me around,” Wei Wuxian said promptly. “Obviously.”

“Brat. Do you want to hear the details or not?”

“Of course I do! I’m just surprised that Nie Huaisang didn’t slip up and tell me about it earlier.”

“He doesn’t know,” Nie Mingjue said, and winced when Wei Wuxian stared at him. “It’s not necessary to tell him until he starts feeling Aituan the way I feel Baxia or you feel Suibian, and given the extremely slow rate of his cultivation, that might be a while out yet. He’s happy as he is; why burden him with secrets?”

“Because he deserves to know that you might die?”

“He knows that,” Nie Mingjue said, his mind suddenly pulled back to the terrible months before his father died. “Trust me. He knows.”

Wei Wuxian was quiet for a moment. “He might cultivate more if he knew that he could eventually have conversations with Aituan,” he suggested.

“He might cultivate less if he knew it was increasing his chances of an early death,” Nie Mingjue rebutted. “It’s the cultivation path of his ancestors; he can’t abandon it, but he can waffle and drag his feet. And if he doesn’t form a golden core properly, if he doesn’t learn to defend himself, he’ll die sooner than any qi deviation will kill me and that’s – that can’t happen. You understand that, right?”

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian said. “Don’t worry, da-ge. I’ll take care of Huaisang.”

Nie Mingjue put his hand on the back of Wei Wuxian’s nape and shook him. “I don’t want to send you off before I go either, brat; don’t get so wrapped up in protecting Huaisang that you forget that. So be careful.”

“I will,” Wei Wuxian said. “I promise.”

“So, do you think it’s time to give Wei Wuxian the talk?” Nie Huaisang asked Jiang Cheng as they dangled their feet in the river.

“What?” Jiang Cheng said, turning to look at him. “Are you joking? You have so much porn –”

“Not the sex talk,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “Sex isn’t a talk; learning about sex is a book explaining the mechanics, a lifetime of listening to soldiers, and a very enjoyable process, to hear the stories. And to read them, of course.”

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng said, flushing red. Nie Huaisang assumed his version of learning about sex had been a little different. “If you didn’t mean that, then what did you mean?”

“Porn can teach you about mechanics, as long as you take it with a solid pound of skepticism about how flexible the human body is and remember where the holes are,” Nie Huaisang said wisely, even as Jiang Cheng put his head in his hands and groaned. “But it doesn’t teach you about feelings.”

“Feelings.”

“Yes, feelings. I-like-you feelings. Like the stupid expression that Jin Zixuan get every time he sees Jiang Yanli practicing saber, or when he hears about those rumors that Sect Leader Nie would snatch her up as his bride in a second if he ever broke the engagement…”

“Why are we talking about feelings?” Jiang Cheng said, not raising his head.

“Because Wei Wuxian is an idiot.”

“Hey, that’s my best friend you’re talking about,” Jiang Cheng said, notably not disagreeing with the assessment. “And other than getting himself thrown out of Teacher Lan’s class because of his stupid theorizing about demonic cultivation, he’s usually pretty smart.”

“I’m well aware. He’s my shixiong,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “And a genius. Doesn’t mean he’s not an idiot.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “What type of feelings talk? The one about not marrying someone who doesn’t love you because you’ll be miserable your entire life one?”

“No, and I’m not touching that with a ten-foot spear, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here for you,” Nie Huaisang said. “I meant the one about liking people, and how to recognize it when that’s what you’re feeling.”

“Wait,” Jiang Cheng said. “Are you saying that Wei Wuxian likes someone?”

Nie Huaisang closed his eyes. “Oh,” he said, in tones of pained revelation. “That’s my problem. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“Hey!”

“I’m going to write to da-ge and tell him he needs to find more smart people to join the sect. Otherwise there’ll be no help for it; my brain is going to end up deteriorating into nothing but mush –”

“Hey!” Jiang Cheng slapped him upside the head, which Nie Huaisang supposed he deserved. “Now stop being a jerk and tell me who Wei Wuxian likes. I didn’t even know there were any girls around for him to like.”

“For the first time in my life, I want my saber,” Nie Huaisang said.

“…what?”

“It’s supposed to give you strength. To support you as you suffer through hardships untold –”

Jiang Cheng pushed him into the river.

Nie Huaisang surfaced a moment later, dripping wet. “Okay, okay,” he said, grinning; it was a hot day and he had been asking for it. “I’ll stop. The reason you’re confused is because the person Wei Wuxian likes isn’t a girl.”

Jiang Cheng looked blank.

Nie Huaisang mimed scissors and pretended to snip at his now soaked sleeve.

“Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng said doubtfully. “But he flirts with girls all the time. Like when we went to Caiyi Town –”

“To be fair, that threw me for a while too,” Nie Huaisang said. “But no one ever said you couldn’t like girls and boys. After all, they’re both really pretty!”

“I guess,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Well, you don’t count. You like boys and girls equally, too.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do,” Nie Huaisang said patiently. “Zero interest in either is still equal.”

Jiang Cheng scowled in the way that suggested that Nie Huaisang was right, but shouldn’t say it.

“Look at it this way: if you never end up liking anybody, you can be friends with your future wife and she’d never need to be worried about you liking anyone else.”

“…that’s true,” Jiang Cheng conceded, looking intrigued by the idea. “Anyway, enough about me. We were talking about Wei Wuxian. Who does he like?”

“Lan Wangji.”

“I know that,” Jiang Cheng said with a scoff, and Nie Huaisang had a momentary hope that maybe he’d been the slow one for once when Jiang Cheng ruined it all by adding, “He’s his best friend, too; we all agreed on that. I was talking about who he liked.”

Nie Huaisang covered his face for a moment and sighed.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s start this from the top: how would you like the opportunity to be Wei Wuxian’s only best friend?”

“…what do you mean? How could that happen?”

“I’m Wei Wuxian’s shidi, my da-ge is his da-ge, and you’re his best friend – and Lan Wangji can be his boyfriend.”

“Oh, I see, that – wait. Wei Wuxian likes Lan Wangji?!”

“And he has no idea,” Nie Huaisang said. “And that’s why we need to give him the talk.”

Jiang Cheng seemed to be struggling with the idea, but in the end he said, “And I get to be his only best friend afterwards, right?” so somehow Nie Huaisang thought it was all going to be fine.

“I need to have a talk with my saber,” Wei Wuxian said, batting his eyelashes at the door guards. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Of course they minded. The Wen sect hadn’t taken away their weapons for their own good – it was a move designed to humiliate them, to weaken them, to show them their place.

But under the circumstances…

“Let him in,” Wen Zhuliu said, his arms crossed over his chest and his face as unmoving as stone. “Once the issue is resolved, he returns to the rest of the group and the incident is never spoken of again.”

The incident being the mysterious snapping of several Wen sect swords during the night when no one was around, which went on for a few days before someone stuck around and realized it was the angry spiritual energy pouring out of Suibian that was causing the issues.

Weird, but, well, everyone knew Nie sabers were weird. The best weapon to use against resentful energy by far, of course, and yao spirits in particular, but still – weird.

Wei Wuxian went into the armory, his heart hurting at all those brilliant shining swords sitting around as if they were merely spares for the Wen sect instead of treasures for their respective masters; there was Sandu over there, and Bichen, and even Suihua. Only lucky Aituan wasn’t here by virtue of Nie Huaisang having believably ‘forgotten’ it back at home; that had been good – Nie Mingjue had nearly had a fit at the idea of Wei Wuxian taking Suibian anywhere near Wen Ruohan and it would’ve been worse if there’d been Aituan to worry about, too.

They’d had to talk him down for a long while to get him to agree. To convince him that the Wens were not yet so daring that they’d commit murder at their indoctrination camp, that they’d be safe enough even if uncomfortable, that the time could be better spent in finalizing the preparations for the war that they all knew was coming.

Having to hand over Suibian at the beginning, though – it’d been hard.

“Hey, baby,” Wei Wuxian said, reaching out to run his fingers down her blade.

Saber spirits didn’t speak the way people spoke, more an amalgamation of raw feeling and sub-human levels of thought, but he liked to think he could hear Suibian saying where have you been you jerk let’s get out of here I want to stab something already.

“No stabbing,” Wei Wuxian said. “And sadly, no getting out of here; we’re stuck. I just got let in here long enough to try to talk to you…since when do you break swords?”

Baxia said.

Suibian didn’t have a word for Baxia, only a feeling like lightning turned solid, a blood-drenched pillar made of stone that could hold up the weight of the world, accompanied by an incredible amount of respect that Suibian certainly never felt about any human up to and including Wei Wuxian – who Suibian seemed to treat more as a little brother than anything else.

A moderately stupid little brother, even.

“Nice try,” Wei Wuxian said patiently. “Baxia isn’t here, so she couldn’t have possibly told you to go break Wen swords.”

Baxia said they broke one of ours.

Wei Wuxian stared. “You can’t possibly mean…old Sect Leader Nie’s? You weren’t even forged then.”

Baxia was. Baxia remembers. Baxia hates them.

“Hey, I hate them, too. Remember me? Your master?”

If it makes you happy.

“Wow, really? Jackass.”

Jerk.

“Pointy object.”

Oblong meat.

Wei Wuxian snickered. “Okay, anyway, you need to stop.”

They are the tools of evil men. If they are not destroyed, they will do evil in the future.

That was Suibian in a nutshell: carefree and arrogant, with a bone-deep sense of righteousness regardless of anything.

They said sabers reflected their masters – Wei Wuxian could only hope that it was true.

He ran his fingers down the flat of the blade again, as much to comfort himself as to calm Suibian.

“I know. But we don’t have a choice right now, okay? I know you’re not very good with thinking about the future, about consequences – I know I’m not very good at it, which means you never had anyone to teach it to you – but right now we need to behave or else bad things will happen to people we love. I told them the breaking of the swords was because of a talisman I carved into you that I forgot to deactivate, so they don’t know about you, but if you keep it up, they might figure it out…”

He sighed. “Don’t make me make it an order.”

Suibian was not happy with him right now, but Wei Wuxian could feel the reluctant agreement.

“Just wait,” Wei Wuxian said. “Soon enough you’ll have all the evil you could possibly want to fight, and more besides.”

Soon, there would be war.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #suibian #my fic #my fics

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 4 years

Note

Here’s a pet tax!! This times he’s nuzzling against my arm!

Btw here’s your excuse to talk more about Dice. Or,,,any of Fling Posse! Have fun!

Oh, you enabler, you. Thank you for this opportunity and for the bunny picture.

A collection of thoughts on Dice and why he may very well be the most important character to Ramuda. Put under a cut for some slight TDD spoilers.

Dice’s Personality Traits

Compared to the other two nosy Nancies that make up Fling Posse, Dice himself is the king of minding his own business. While he does display definite interest in his friend’s lives - see asking Riou about his favorite food in the ARB event “Riou’s Kitchen” or discussing Gentarou’s latest story in FP/M chapter 7 - he tends to avoid discussing topics that make others feel uncomfortable.

This can make Dice appear oblivious, but Dice is much more emotionally observant than most characters give him credit for. Let’s take chapter 14 of FP/M for a great example of this. I’ll link it here, and I encourage you to read through it again paying careful attention to his facial expressions.

Dice begins the chapter deep in thought and adopts a solemn facial expression for the next few pages. Something is clearly preoccupying him.

However, the moment Ramuda appears, Dice begins acting much more animated and begins playing along with Ramuda in an attempt to cheer him up. Note that Dice observed Ramuda acting out of sorts for the entire battle in the previous chapters and hasn’t seen Ramuda awake since (according to chapter 15). He’s likely greatly concerned. It is arguable that his reactions are entirely food motivated...

... except for the fact that he returns to his previously somber state the moment Ramuda is no longer looking at him. Dice also doesn’t immediately accept Gentarou’s suggestion that Ramuda is trying to keep up appearances for their sake.

At the restaurant, Dice begins to play up the cheerful glutton again and attempts to directly cheer up Ramuda by operating under the assumption that Ramuda is disappointed by their loss.

When Ramuda goes to leave, the art emphasizes Gentarou’s concern, but the silhouette of Dice (and the lack of any bulging cheeks or cups carried up to his mouth) in the final panel indicates that he has once again returned to his more serious state. In this scene, Dice recognizes that something has gone terribly wrong.

Each member of Fling Posse is a performer putting on an act, and as noted by Ramuda’s reaction to Gentarou invading his privacy, Ramuda feels most comfortable when each actor plays his part. Dice is aware of this and thus acts the cheerful idiot for Ramuda in these scenes because he recognizes that Ramuda needs that stability.

If I may demonstrate another quick example, take a look at the scene from FP/M chapter 12 and compare how Dice acts without (first image) and with a visibly distressed Ramuda (other images) in the room.

The FP/M mangaka also says (in the afterword of volume 3), “I think [Dice] might have a good poker face and be able to control his facial expressions even when he’s flat out broke. But his posse doesn’t seem to understand that.“ Dice’s poker face is a boon here when he can use it to help the ones he cares about.

For Dice does care very greatly. Dice minds his own business and doesn’t make any overt actions as long as his friends are capable of handling situations on their own. However, the moment he recognizes that they are in over their heads, he takes swift and decisive action (which, in turn, can be harmful to others).

Take this scene in FP/M chapter 10 as a great example. Prior to Gentarou grabbing Hifumi, Dice was firmly a bystander, but he immediately leaps in when the situation escalates. Notice that he removes Hifumi from harm’s way but also serves a shield for Gentarou and focuses his attention on Gentarou’s wellbeing.

He then offers Gentarou physical reassurance with a hand on the shoulder and an out to the situation, which would have allowed Gentarou to move on as if his mask had never slipped if it were not for Hifumi’s next comment. Dice also shuts down Hifumi before it can escalate any further.

Although Hifumi is attempting to justify himself because he doesn’t understand Gentarou’s reaction and doesn’t see what he did wong, Dice recognizes that this statement also denies Gentarou the right to express his feelings on something which is clearly an enormous deal to him.

By labeling Hifumi’s comments as “disrespect” and “hurting people” while simultaneously stressing that this topic is “important”, he allows Gentarou the right to feel upset at Hifumi’s comments. He also continues to use defensive posture in order to keep Gentarou physically safe (which must be an intentional choice on the artist’s part, as Hifumi mirrors this pose a few pages later as he begins to defend Doppo). Even though Dice’s reaction crosses the line when he, in turn, begins to hurt someone else, removing Gentarou from the situation, validating his feelings, and making Hifumi stop is exactly what Gentarou needed but was unable to provide for himself.

Dice is a damn good friend and an exceptional person. If you ever find a friend like Dice, don’t let them get away from you.

Saving Ramuda’s Life

Let’s switch gears for a moment to take a look at what goes on in Ramuda’s mind. As a disposable pawn for the Party of Words, Ramuda has an atypical view of the world. He genuinely enjoys the company of others and can form real bonds, but his primary motivation in life is fully self-centered: keep himself alive. Every order he receives comes with the caveat of, “Failure brings death.” The fear of death is enough to drive him to betray his closest friends in TDD, even Jakurai, who clearly means a lot to him.

^ TDD chapter 13. Ramuda receives an order from Ichijiku to handle the Jakurai side of things in the TDD breakup and reflects on the time that Jakurai saw who his true personality and not only accepted it but welcomed it.

Bear with me if you’ve seen me talk about this before, but Ramuda’s ability to feel emotions is considered a fluke. Ichijiku describes it as a “malfunction” and a “nuisance” for his job. She also describes Ramuda himself as a “failure” and “worthless”, sometimes to Ramuda’s face.

Ramuda internalizes this. Notice’s Ramuda’s reactions to slipping up and having an emotional outburst in TDD chapter 9 and FP/M chapter 8.

The former of these features Ramuda looking frightened (either due to concern of losing his life for revealing more than he should have done or fear that Jakurai will consider him as “worthless” as everyone else does), insulting himself, and self-harming. While the insults and self-harm are as stereotypically cute as the rest of Ramuda’s facade, the core idea remains that he believes showing his true personality is as idiotic and worth of punishment as everyone else believes. The lack of self-worth is ingrained in him.

The slightly more grown-up Ramuda in FP/M does not react as dramatically, but I really want to draw your attention to the question, “Was I spooky?” It’s worded in a deliberately silly manner because of Ramuda’s speech style, but he is asking his supposed friends if the real version of himself is frightening. Tell me, Dice. Does seeing me scare you? Do you want to run away now before it’s too late? It’s an innocent question on the surface level, but considering the about face his last friend turned after learning more about Ramuda’s real life and job, this question demonstrates that Ramuda’s view of himself has hardly changed for the positive since then.

(Also please observe Dice’s reaction. The pause is him getting into character in order to cheer up Ramuda after a clear emotional upset.)

Therefore Ramuda is a person running entirely on self-preservation but with no sense of self-worth. He sees himself largely the same way Chuuouku does and expects everyone else to do the same. This greatly limits his worldview and prevents him from considering possible other options besides, “Do or die”.

If most of the other cast members found themselves in Ramuda’s shoes, they would have the knowledge and ability to consider other options such as running away, asking for help, or fighting back. Yet Ramuda never considers any of these. He does not have the life experiences the other cast members have to consider making any of these options. He has never observed them or had an outside source present them as options to him. Once the order comes down the pipeline from Ichijiku, it is set in stone. He can hate the order - take a look at another illustration from TDD chapter 13 - but he considers its execution inevitable.

This is why the order to hypnotize Jakurai in FP/M chapter 11 hits him so hard. Now “do or die” has become “die or die”, and his only decision comes down to the nature of his death.

Yes, this situation could have been avoided by talking to Jakurai. Jakurai gives him multiple opportunities to speak up before and during the battle, but Ramuda doesn’t have the ability to recognize those as options for help. In Ramuda’s book, people don’t help him. “Help” doesn’t exist.

In fact, the entire TDD situation could have been avoided as well if Ramuda had trusted his friends, spoken up, and explained the situation. Jakurai (not to mention Ichirou and Samatoki after a fashion) would almost certainly have helped, and that seems to be what Jakurai was waiting for. Once he pushed Ramuda too hard by accident and caused an outburst, he stepped back and waited for Ramuda to come forward on his own terms. But that’s utterly foolish, because Ramuda doesn’t operate on his own terms either. Ramuda doesn’t have his own terms. He lives and thinks the way the Party of Words wants him to think, and if the Party of Words does not want him to speak up and ask for help, then he will never, ever be able to.

The beauty is that Dice is not Jakurai. As mentioned above, Dice minds his own business up until the point a friend of his is over their head, and it’s when Ramuda starts to pull out the True Hypnosis Mic in order to kill himself for Chuuouku that Dice finally acts.

As is the case with Gentarou up above, Dice acknowledges that he doesn’t fully understand the situation but offers physical reassurance, advice, and the implicit argument that Ramuda’s real strength is something of value. Dice writes the word “help” into Ramuda’s dictionary with genuine love and affection.

While Ramuda still can’t consider any option other than “do or die”, it is Dice and Gentarou’s intervention that imbues him with enough self-worth to even consider placing his own wants and needs above Chuuouku’s.

It is this that lays the groundwork for The Loneliness, Tears, and Hope of a Puppet and gives Ramuda the basic agency to even consider acting for himself and, contrarily, acting in line with consideration for other people. It’s this that allows him to avoid ruining Jakurai’s life a second time and this that allows him to accept Gentarou and Dice’s promise of friendship. In the drama track itself, once again it is Dice and Gentarou intervening and challenging Ramuda’s preconceived notions in order to save his life.

Gentarou absolutely plays a vital role in this as well, but it is Dice that chooses to make the first move. Had he not said anything, Ramuda would have used the True Hypnosis Mic and died onstage in front of the audience.

It is sometimes the tiniest of actions and the smallest pieces of support that make all the difference. Sometimes all it takes is someone being unafraid to reach out and flip a die over so it lands on a different number.

#not a translation #asks #dice arisugawa

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stanknotstark · 3 years

Text

Astral Pt. 13 (Loki x Reader)

I’m introducing ANOTHER character :D Morgan is very interesting and her powers are like Kang’s I’m very curious as to who would win in a fight tbh i wish i could’ve written an action scene because she can mind control and OH the drama that I could have played with! You guys are lucky cuz i had something worse written >:D

You and Loki are eating breakfast together in silence. When you finish your plate Loki tells you to grab a book from his quarters, while he finishes, so he can help you research Asgard. Then meet him in the common area since no one is there right now.

Loki likes to teach you and watch your curiosity flare as you read up on Asgard, its customs, how healers work, how royalty works, instead of telling you. It’s the least he can do since you’ll never actually see Asgard in person. He’s a fantastic storyteller but you know he has a weakness, that weakness being that when you truly concentrate on something sometimes you stick your tongue out a bit and narrow your eyes. Other times you look at the book with guileless fascination. Plus, Loki knows there’s more satisfaction from learning on your own. He’s always there to answer your questions and debate with you though.

You walk back into the common area after grabbing the book, Loki looks at you, then a cloud of dark green appears between you both. Before you can react accordingly feminine arms are yanking you into the cloud of magic and you’re in someone’s arms definitely not at the tower anymore. You can only imagine what Loki is thinking. The last thing he probably saw was the book fall when you dropped it. Now he’s probably thinking the worst is going to happen, that you’re going to die, and honestly you don’t know what’s going on. For all you know you might actually be about to die.

You try to wave off the nausea and dizziness following the teleportation you endured and assess your surroundings but someone is roughly pulling you somewhere. Just as you get your wits back there is a tight rope constricting your hands behind your back and around your ankles. You’re shoved into a rocky wall, twisting, back first causing you to let out a breathless grunt and slide into a sitting position on the ground.

Looking up you see a beautiful woman. She stands tall, her chin out in confidence. Her pale, petite face is framed by pitch black hair, the long tendrils held in braids resting on her chest and trailing to her hips they’re so long. She wears a green and black corset that flows into thigh armor that is engraved. No not engraved, made of actual scales, you shiver at the thought of what could have scales that big, nothing from Earth that’s sure. To end her amazing outfit, her green with black lace boots are thigh highs. You can faintly smell leather and something sweet you’ve never smelled before. You’re pretty sure this woman could be a really good dominatrix if she wanted to.

“That was much easier than expected. If the Avengers are Earth’s best defenders I’m disappointed, to say the least.” The woman tells you looking at her nails in boredom. You pick out her British accent.

You realize you’re not in immediate danger and say, “While I don’t mind getting kidnapped by beautiful women I usually like to know their names first, maybe take me on a date before you bring me back to your place.”

The woman chuckles. “My name is Morgan Le Fay of Britain, the world’s strongest sorceress, Morgana. That is until you came along.”

You frown. “That’s a mouthful.”

Morgana shakes her head with a small smile. “Cute.”

“Look I’m not that powerful, I think you have the wrong person, most of the magic I use I can’t use for long because it gives me migraines.” You say while shifting around to get more comfortable.

You finally take in your surroundings. All you can assess is that you’re in a cave, no telling how far from New York City, home. You know Loki could track you down if you could astral project but you don’t trust Morgana enough to take your eyes off of her. Maybe Tony is tracking your cell phone which you feel sitting in your back pocket.

“Such a shame you’ll never discover your true potential. I’m here to kill you, child, but I had to get a taste of what runs through your blood before I do.” Morgana says kneeling in front of you.

Morgana brings a hand to your head and when she touches you she gasps and closes her eyes. You simply watch from under her hand as she shivers. When she pulls her hand away her eyes are bright with curiosity but far away in thought.

“Why would your mother want to kill someone so powerful, I would think having you on her side would be more preferable.” Morgana says under her breath. You only hear her because she’s so close to you.

“My mother sent you?” You say trying to stall now that you know her intentions.

Morgana hums.

“I know my mother doesn’t love me but I never thought she’d send a glorified assassin after me. I’m honored, honestly.” You say your fingers playing with the rope around your wrists seeing if you could escape somehow. “How does my mother know you anyways, she doesn’t have any powers why would she know a sorceress?”

Morgana frowns at you, “I like your humor in the face of death.” She quips with a hint of annoyance at your nonchalance of the situation, “When a celestial tells me to do something I tend to not question it.” You look at Morgana like she’s crazy then you watch as realization dawns on her face.

“My child...You truly do not know?”

You stop fiddling with the rope and look at Morgana with a raised eyebrow. “Know what? And I’m not a child.”

“Your true birth mother, celestial Madonna.” Morgana says ignoring your plea to be respected.

At this you freeze and lose all the breath in your lungs.

Thor was right, you’re adopted.

“It was prophesied that celestial Madonna would give birth to the most powerful being in the universe. Kang wanted to be father to such child and hunted her down. He impregnated her, held her captive until she birthed you. She fled when she had the chance but couldn’t take you with her.” Morgana explains while standing and pacing the cave’s floor. “Kang, who was being chased by the Avengers, planted you in an alternate universe and time. No one has known where you were until a few years ago when you used magic for the first time.” Morgana finishes, stopping and looking down at you.

She gives you a look of pity as you process everything. It all made sense now. Kang wants you to be his weapon of destruction. Why your parents have always hated you and treated you like shit.

“My mother wants me dead and sent you to do her dirty work...Meaning she’s alive somewhere?” You ask trying to not panic with the influx of information.

“She’s here on Earth until she knows you’re dead. Said you’re more of a liability than anything. I’m being paid handsomely for your head.” Morgana says. She then brings a hand up and flicks it. Dark green magic flows and through the smokey magic you see a quin jet then see flashes of Loki, Steve, Natasha, Tony, and Thor talking, concerned and frightened looks on their faces but hear nothing.

“Your friends are near.” Is all Morgana says like it’s an afterthought. She makes the magic disappear and looks at you with determination. “I have a proposition for you, child.”

You’re not really in the position to argue so you nod at her.

“Promise me you’ll hunt down Kang and right before you deliver the last strike on his miserable life you call on me and let me do it. While I love your mother dearly I have a penchant for revenge.”

“Fine.” You say. At this Morgana looks at you, sizing you up, but decides you’re harmless enough and makes the rope around your wrists and ankles disappear. When you stand she magics a gold ring with a square emerald on it and gives it to you.

“When the time comes throw this on the ground and stomp on it with your foot then stand back, I shall appear where the ring is.”

You nod and slip the ring onto your right ring finger finding that it fits perfectly.

“Do not use it for anything else, it is a one time use. If you use it for something trivial I will kill you without hesitation, our deal will be void.” Morgana says, she frowns and without asking places a hand on your head again. This time you feel her magic search your mind and gasp when she does something that makes you feel energetic and calm.

When Morgana pulls her hand away she explains, “Your powers were behind a barrier, I simply destroyed it. You should be able to wield magic without headaches now but you’re going to use your full power unless you learn how to tame it. Do not kill yourself or I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

You look at Morgana in disbelief and annoyance because she keeps threatening your life.

She gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m truly sorry such a fate has fallen on you, child.” And then she’s gone and you’re left in a dark cave.

You hadn’t even realized Morgana had used magic to light up the space you both inhabited until you’re left standing in pitch black. Without hesitation you light up both fists with fire and start to make your way out of the cave. You plan to contact Loki when you truly know where you are. However, when you reach the entrance you see the quin jet landing in an open field not that far from the cave’s entrance on the side of a mountain. The first person out of the ship is Loki and he is sprinting towards you, Thor not far behind with Steve and Nat pulling the flank.

When Loki reaches you you open your mouth to tell him you’re ok but he pulls you into his chest hard and squeezes you till you’re breathless. Then he holds you at arms length and looks over your face first, then body.

“Are you hurt, did she use any magic on you?” He asks urgently.

“I’m fine, Loki, we just talked, she’s not a danger to us.” You say with a small smile that you’re sure doesn’t reach your eyes because Loki doesn’t lose the concerned look on his face. He doesn’t push it either though. Thor stays suspiciously silent when he reaches you both. He touches you as if to check that you’re real but drops his hand and claps Loki on the back more for calming him instead of camaraderie.

You look at Steve and Nat with a small wave and embarrassed grimace when Loki, Thor, and you reach them as you all walk towards the quin jet. After you’ve told them multiple times that you’re fine they all relax a bit but not by much. You mostly feel embarrassed you were taken so easily. You didn’t even put up a fight.

You’re sitting in the quin jet quiet other than to answer their questions without going into details because you’re still trying to unravel what you’ve been told.

“Why did she take you?” Steve asks, standing in front of you, arms crossed, with Nat next to him while Loki sits at your side, holding your hand. You know he has questions because his fingers keep playing with the new ring on your hand and he gives you looks you can’t decipher. Thor is speaking with Tony in the cockpit so you’re free of their questions until later thankfully.

“She wants me to find Kang so she may kill him.” You say.

Thankfully Loki and Thor had told the group of superheroes who Kang was after the incident with the Growing Man. They told them what they knew of the man which honestly wasn’t much.

At your words you feel Loki stop playing with the ring. He understands its purpose now. He must have used his magic to look over the ring and see if it was a danger to anyone but especially you, sensing it had magic dwelling in it.

“That doesn’t explain why she took you specifically. She could have told all of us. She didn’t have to kidnap you.” Natasha says knowing you enough to know you’re hiding valuable information.

You frown and look at your feet. “I-”

You go quiet and everyone stays quiet too, you listen to the engine of the quin jet and Thor and Tony bickering in the background. You think about how Loki’s hand fits perfectly in yours and is soft but has rough patches of callouses from his use of daggers. You take a deep breath in through your nose, closing your eyes, and smell leather, sweat, and that smell the quin jet emits like a new car.

When you open your eyes you look up at Steve and Natasha and ask, “How did you find me?”

Natasha frowns at your very obvious deflection. Steve answers. “Tony tracked your cell phone but it’s thanks to Loki we found you so fast. He used his magic to track your magic or something.” Steve says uncrossing his arms and shrugging while glancing at Loki.

You look at Loki who raises a brow at you. “Our bond.” Is all he says at your inquisitive look. You nod in understanding.

“Where are we, exactly?” You ask them.

“The border of New York and Pennsylvania.” Steve says. That explains why they were able to reach you so quick. If Morgana teleported you so close that means your stalling is the only reason you’re alive. She planned to make you a quick death.

When Nat opens her mouth to ask you another question you shake your head at her. “I’m exhausted can I take a nap before I tell you everything?” You ask, realizing you’ve got at least 45 minutes of free time since the jet isn’t going full speed.

Nat looks a little apologetic and Steve nods and says, “We’re happy you’re ok.” and then they both make their way to the opposite side of the quin jet.

You and Loki settle into the quin jet’s seats as comfortably as you can. He stays suspiciously quiet about everything but brings an arm up and around your shoulders and lets you lay your head on his shoulder where it meets his neck. When you’re settled he keeps holding your hand but his free hand around your shoulder comes up to stroke your hair. It doesn’t take long to fall asleep.

Pt. 12.1/Pt. 13/?

Tage list: @justfangirlthingies @emelieh99 @high-functioning-lokipath @loveableasshole

#astral #astral pt.13 #loki x reader #loki #reader insert #my writing #loki odinson #sorry i debated writing a 12.1 and didn't know if i could add it without disrupting the flow of the story #there will be a 13.1 though!#anyways i wanted to answer the questions that have been thrown around recently #loki isn't freaking out #yet #he will in 13.1 #lol i wanted to save the angst #but he definitely freaked at your disappearance #no worries all shall be resolved #disregard the whole 12.1 not happening i decided last minute to write something up #i actually might not write a 13.1 and instead write the angsty fluff with pt 14 plot #cuz like if i write a 13.1 it'll skip over the plot where you answer their questions #then if i went back to it in 14 it would be confusing to say the least #so you'll get two parts in 14 :D #disregard the timing of everything when i wrote this i totally forgot about about time even existing so i gave lame excuses XDD

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iheartbookbran · 3 years

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Anthony, Penelope, Marina and Colin deserved better...

Beware, rant ahead

Ok I wish I didn’t feel such strong need to continue beating this dead horse but oopsie, I will very much be beating it some more.

Like, my fave books of the Bridgerton series are Anthony’s and Colin’s books, so I’m seething about what they did with their characterizations, Anthony and Penelope in particular, because Colin’s only real sin was being boring, and if you remember how funny he’s in the books it makes me wanna fall on my knees and ask Chris Van Dusen whyyyy omg why would you do something like that to such a dynamic character. So yeah, Colin is boring af and a moron but at least he isn’t an asshole the way show Anthony and Penelope are, and I’ve seen people say that they can always be redeemed in future seasons, if we get them, but that’s exactly my problem, because they never had to be redeemed in the books, to begin with. Penelope more so than Anthony but let me begin by defending my boy.

Is he a jerk sometimes? Sure. Is he actively awful and uncaring towards those close to him, especially his family? Hell no, quite the opposite, in fact. Not to be controversial on main but in the books... he was right in not wanting Daphne to be courted by a man who he knew damn right had no intention of marrying her and as far as he was aware was only making her waste her time, and he was right in demanding Simon pay for compromising her honor. Could he have been more mindful of what Daphne had to say and listened to her wishes? Of course, but considering Simon and Daphne (both in the show and in the books) aren’t exactly masters in communication themselves, Anthony doesn’t come off as the biggest offender in that situation.

What he never did was force Daphne, or any of his sisters really, to do anything; if they didn’t like a guy then that guy was out of their lives no question asked, and he loved them enough to always have their best interests at heart, for his sisters and his brothers, to the point that even though he’s traumatized and thinks he’s gonna die young he’s still willing to get past that to do his duty and marry, because he doesn’t want to pass that burden on to his little brothers (so him deciding to leave all his responsibilities to Benedict so he can fck off with his mistress is... like, a choice lmao). In fact all the subplot with Siena felt like a choice on the writers part, like they truly liked Benedict and Sophie’s story so they just slapped it on Anthony so he could act all sad and sexy while they gave us foreshadowing with the subtlety of a warharmer that he’s ending up with Kate anyways (and that Benedict is ending with Sophie anyways too, so they would be using that storyline twice, unless they do make him bi and fall in love with a man, but maybe that’s too much of ask for this show), so what was Siena’s purpose in the story? Who tf knows not me.

Now Penelope, my god. Yes I know I joke Penny has never done anything wrong in her life, and I still love her, but she was wrong. Very much so. What she did was significantly worse than what Marina did, which I still don’t condone at all. Like yes, I still maintain that Marina tricking Colin into marriage was wrong (and I’ll go later on why that whole subplot was racist af), but what Penelope did could have not only ruined Marina and herself and her sisters reputations, but it was basically condemning an innocent unborn child to a life in the streets, that’s messed up. Even if Marina was rose-coloring her potential life with Colin and he might have grown to resent her, at least the baby would’ve been alright. And my problem with that whole subplot is that all of it was resolved so neatly, with Sir Phillip sweeping in to save the day so we don’t have to actually see what Penelope’s actions could have caused, but the implications are still very much there.

And I’m cracking my mind trying to figure out whether the showrunners just... really hate Colin’s book and Penelope as a character so they’re trying to inflict some kind of character assassination on her so they can get away with writing him off with another person without causing much outrage, or if they just thought there wasn’t enough ~drama~ or stakes on their book so they have to add them, and give him some kind of bullshit tragic romantic past to explain why he doesn’t want to marry, whereas in the books, the reason he doesn’t marry anyone is because he doesn’t feel like it, and that’s ok, there’s no need for every character to have a tragic backstory and to be riddled with angst; Colin is that character, he’s an easy going guy who’s just not interested in marriage until he falls in love with Penny AND THAT’S VALID, just because he doesn’t have the most complex motivations out there doesn’t mean he isn’t a compelling character. The stakes in his story after he discovers Penny is Whistledown are, as he points out, that she has insulted so many people there’s no way some of them wouldn’t want to retaliate if word came out, and he cares for her and doesn’t want her to get hurt (there’s also a dumb part about him being secretly jealous of her accomplishments as Whistledown, but thankfully he gets over that pretty quickly).

But while I am on that, it is true that Penelope wrote some uncharitable things about the mean people around her, but she never ever ruined someone’s reputation, let alone endanger the future of a child. Was she a bitch sometimes? Yeah, but she was also kind to a lot of people and her criticism was never unwarranted and never did more damage than maybe annoy a couple of girls like Cressida. I just hate the idea of this needing to turn into some sort of ~redemption arc~ for Penelope because, again, in the books she really didn’t have to make up for anything, definitely not to Colin, who was actually the one who had to do much of the heavy lifting in their relationship when he realized that he literally slept on her for years.

And now regarding Marina, like yes, she was wrong and I stand by that statement (but not as wrong as Penelope), but tbh I find it hard to be mad at her when they gave her such a racist storyline, as the scheming woc who gets pregnant out of wedlock and then tries to seduce the innocent white man, until the virtuous white girl needs to step up to save him. At least that’s what I thought initially as the writers intention, but honestly I’m not so sure anymore, I doubt they will continue to write her and Colin as a couple otherwise they would’ve bothered to show them interacting outside of her manipulating him and him acting like a bumbling idiot, the most sincere moment they had together was when he comforted her about the lie, but by that time this bitch (me) was empty and didn’t give a shit anymore. Literally all their other interactions where shown through Penelope’s POV to let us know she was sad, and Colin’s most significant scenes where again... with Penelope (because it isn’t as if he has a family and his own moments in the books outside of being an object for Penelope to pine after).

And as I said before, Marina had a—relatively—happy ending: married to a man she doesn’t love (just as she didn’t love Colin) but who will treat her right and care for her and her child in comfort. Is arguably a better ending than if she’d married Colin because now she doesn’t have to go through the trouble of explaining things to her new husband and run the risk of him resenting her forever. Phillip may not love her but he knows who he’s marrying and why he’s marrying her. That’s literally the same fate Marina had in the books, and it makes me wonder why, oh why would the writers do that.

Why create such a contrived plot to give a character who appears in one(1) chapter of an 8 books series then promptly dies, all at the expense of the characterization of one of the most beloved heroines of said books series? Why would you write this racist storyline for a character whose fate is dying? And now I’m horrified at the repercussions that can come with Marina committing su*cide like in canon, because the implications would be that Penelope would be responsible for it (and I hate the idea of blaming one person for the su*cide of another, fictional or otherwise, is harmful and we need to be careful with making such implications), which would make her even less redeemable or like, likable in general. Not to mention that would be like putting the final racist nail in Marina’s coffin by giving her that ending.

It makes me wonder, seriously, if Chris Van Dusen hated Romancing Mister Bridgerton that much, if he loathed the idea of writing a fat character finding love and getting sex that much. I just wanna know why lmfao.

#rant over #if i sound salty is because i am #like there actually were a lot of aspects i did enjoy but i just cannot get past this #though this rant helped me a lot to feel better so there’s that #tellmewhy.gif #anthony bridgerton #penelope featherington #marina thompson #colin bridgerton #polin #tagging them bc i rant quite a lot about how they ruined their relationship #enjoy the salt uwu #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton spoilers #meta #my meta

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namelessexistence · 3 years

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Part 8 of 10 of my top 100 favorite characters

30 - Yamanaka Ino (Naruto)

Yes, I had my Naruto phase. It was the first manga I read, I borrowed from a friend. There’s so much characters with wasted potential there. And it is true that the story advances in terms of themes of war and cicles of hatred, but character-wise, it was on it’s best in the Chunnin Exams. Ino is one of those exemples of wasted potential. She deserved to win that fight against Sakura and I’ll die on that hill. In that arc, she’s established as confident, skilled with shurikens, she was a better friend than Sakura was and I woudn’t say that she ended a friendship because of boy. She didn’t. Sakura ended their friendship, Ino shows clear signs of still caring for Sakura and not wanting to cut ties. Despide caring for her good looks, she would sacrifice that with no hesitation to win a fight. Yes, Sakura did it in a moment that was supposed to be a meaningful step to her growth, but Ino did it entirily for her strategy. She was smart enough to create a plan that would compensate for her jutsu’s weak spot (that it was supposed to be used as part of a team work)

29 - Tsunade (Naruto)

I don’t think I have to explain this one. Unlike Ino, that I feel I have to defend, Tsunade is already (rightfully) perceived as one of the best written female characters in the series, if not the best.

28 - Nami (One Piece)

I love how she was written. She’s well written and complex. Yes, her portray is cartoonish good part of the time, but that’s a characteristc of the story itself. I loved the arc where we learn about her past. I love how she’s allowed to be greedy, whimsical and deeply flawed and still be someone who the writer want us to root for. Usually, this indulgence is given to male characters.

27 - Frankestein’s Creature

Did this book sent me into this path of sympathy for the devil I never got off from? Probably. Being queer almost certainly has some part on that too. Anyway, he wasn’t a saint or inoccent by the end of the book, we already said Clerval deserved better, so did his other victims. But he was already hated and ostricized before he did anything to deserved that, because of circunstances he coudn’t choose or control. Victor created to imediately abandon him.

26 - Greed (Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood )

I didn’t realize I cared so much for him until the end. That end destroyed me and I still think about it now, years later. But it’s poetic.If greed is satisfied, how can it keep existing?

25 - Akabane Karma (Assassination Classroom)

He has the same bastard energy of Izaya, but without being a villain, what else could you need? Also, I love how he’s first introduced as someone dangerous, a predator, a deranged man, but then Koro-Sensei treats him as a child who was hurted and needed care, wich is true, and it worked.

24 - Azula (Avatar The Last Airbender)

Sometimes it’s hard to remember she was only fourteen during the show. But she was. A child. I don’t deny Zuko had a kinder nature than her, but it doesn’t mean she wasn’t influenced by the way she was raised. That family and how their kids turned out would take it’s own post to make it justice. Besides, Azula is fun as a villain. She’s competent, ruthless, and seems to be enjoying herself most of the time.

23 - Chara (Undertale)

I just find so interesting to search for clues and pieces of information about them across the game. Chara is a puzzle we’l never be able to fully solve. We don’t have all the pieces. That won’t stop me from trying.

22 - Violet Evergarden

A girl who was treated as a weapon learning how to be human. This anime is so beautiful and touching. Her character growth, learning how to understand other people’s feeling and, trough that, her own.

21 - Gaara (Naruto)

Child me was really involved with the story of this kid who was possesed by a demon, isolated, raised as both a monster and a weapon. And he had to grow and learn better by himself, with no help other than one (1) speech other child he woudn’t see again for years gave him.

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

Note

I’m a huge fan of your writing!!! You’re so talented 💖✨ Can I please request a protective tom/peter story? Thanks love!!

Wheezy

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is the only one who can tease you about your asthma

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

You were in second grade when you found out you had asthma.

Unfortunately, the rest of the second grade class found out too. Your asthma wasn't too serious, mainly triggered by nerves, but every so often you’d have to take a hit off your inhaler to calm yourself down. That didn’t hinder the merciless teasing from your classmates for not knowing how to breath. There was one thing that hindered the teasing though…

“Why are you in time out?” You asked the curly haired boy with red sneakers sitting next to you. The teacher shot you a look when she heard talking, but looked away when you gave her a bright smile. The boy rubbed his thumb over his knuckles and shrugged.

“I hit Flash.” He said solemnly.

“You hit Flash? Like in the face?” You almost jumped out of your seat in excitement. The boy perked you upon hearing your interest in his actions.

“In the nose.” He said with a toothless grin.

“Hey, I don’t have my two from teeth either.” You opened your mouth to show the boy and stuck your tongue through the gap. “My mommy said it makes me special. But if you’re also missing your teeth, does that mean I’m not special? Or are we both special? I have to call my mommy and ask but I only know the number for 911. It’s 911.” You sighed in defeat before an idea popped into your head. “Do you know your mommy’s number? Can we ask her?”

The boy blinked and looked at the floor before telling you, “I don’t have a mommy.”

“Everyone has a mommy.” You insisted.

“My mommy flew up to heaven with daddy.” The boy told you with a glum face. He never spoke about their death, but he felt safe opening up to you.

“Oh.” You said and looked down. You noticed the boy getting upset and reached over to tap his shoulder. “Do you want to come over after school today and meet my mommy? She’s really nice. Except, sometimes she makes me clean my room.” You remembered. “But I don’t think she’ll make you do that.”

“Okay.” The boy smiled happily at you. “I’m Peter.”

“I’m Y/n.” You told him.

“I know your name.” Peter said. “Your cubby is near mine.”

“I like you Peter. Since we’re best friends now, I’m going to tell you a secret.” You scooted your chair closer to his and lowered your voice.”

“Okay.” Peter smiled in excitement.

“I told a lie to the teacher.” You confessed before clamping your hands over your mouth and giggling as Peters eyes widened.

“What did you say?” He gasped. Lies were a top offense in second grade.

“Michelle drew on the bathroom wall in sharpie and I told the teacher I did it. That’s why I’m in time out.” You admitted to Peter. He furrowed his little eyebrows together.

“Why would you lie about that?” He asked.

“Because if Michelle gets in trouble again, she had to talk to the president.” You told Peter, who’s eyes widened again. “Or the principle. I forget which one.”

“You’re a good friend.” Peter complimented.

“Now I’m your good friend.” You smiled brightly at him. “So why did you hit Flash?”

“I don’t want to tell you.” Peter shook his head and looked away.

“But I told you a secret!” You said a little too loudly, making the teacher look your way again.

“I can’t say.” Peter whispered.

“Then we cant be friends.” You pouted and folded your arms.

“Wait! I’ll tell you.” Peter spoke up.

“Okay.” You leaned closer to him, your pout completely gone.

“I hit Flash because he was making fun of your asthma.” Peter confessed.

“You hit him for me?” You asked. “But you didn’t know me then.”

“I don’t like Flash. I wanted to protect you from him.” Peter told you. Something about Peters words made your second grade heart burst.

“Everyone makes fun of my asthma.” You said sadly. Peter looked angry, because he knew it was true.

“I don’t.” He promised. You looked up at him and pulled him into a hug.

“Okay Peter. We can be friends again.” You said.

But that was elementary school. By high school, things were different.

Since you wore a different purse everyday to match your outfit, you often forgot to put your inhaler in your new bag. Luckily, you usually never found yourself in a situation where you needed your inhaler but didn't have it.

That was true until tenth grade. You had to do an oral report on The Scarlet Letter for your English class. It went fine at first as you stood before the class reading from index cards. Halfway through the presentation, Peter noticed your breathing was getting labored. Your hands were shaking and you looked up from your index cards in fear at the rest of the class. Peter quickly realized an asthma attack was coming on and grabbed your backpack. He started rummaging through it, but found it wasn't your usual purple bag. You were wearing a green dress today, so you opted for a light pink backpack. Only problem, you forgot to stick your inhaler in it. You made eye contact with Peter, who was even more terrified than you were. Peter ran out of the classroom to get the nurse.

"What were you thinking?" Peter yelled, making you jump. You were sitting on the bench outside the nurses office, taking deep breaths with your inhaler. Peter was busy thanking the Lord that it’s required to give the school an inhaler if you have asthma. He was glad he remembered this and got the nurse in time.

"I just forgot. I've never used it at school before. People would think I'm a geek." You said, still a little out of breath. You felt guilty for making him so upset but in your defense, you’ve never needed it before.

"Y/n, you could have died." Peter said angrily.

"Oh, you're just being dramatic." You dismissed.

"Dramatic? 250,000 people die from asthma a year, Y/n." Peter stated, leaving you to wonder how he knew that. He saw you look down at your hands in shame and his eyes softened. He crouched down and took your still shaking hands in his.

"I need you to understand how important it is for you to carry around your inhaler at all times. You can't keep forgetting it. This could've been serious." Peter said gently. You slowly looked up at him.

"I'll remember. I promise." You said. Peter nodded and pulled you into a hug. He frowned deeply once your face was buried in his neck. He didn't like seeing his best friend upset. His frown faded when he heard your giggle.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked.

"I just think it's funny how I said reading The Scarlet Letter was gonna make me die of boredom, and then I almost died while giving a report on it. That would've been quite a death." You laughed. Peter stifled his laughter, not wanting to let you off the hook just yet.

"That's not funny." He smiled.

"At least I would've gone out with a bang." You shrugged.

"Stop." He warned.

"It would’ve been a run and hit, instead of a hit and run. Get it? Because I had to run to take a hit of my inhaler?” You continued to tease him.

"Stop." He said again.

"Alright alright." You rolled your eyes and dropped the subject.

After the incident, your asthma became the butt of all your jokes. The endless "breathless" jokes followed you all the way to college. Whenever you got a chance, an asthma joke would be made.

"Wanna hear a joke?" You asked as you spun around in Peters swivel chair.

"Not at all." Peter replied without looking up from his textbook.

“I watched a documentary on Asthma and what causes it last night.” You informed him. He looked up from his text book, excited that you were taking the initiative to learn more about your condition.

“Oh really?” Peter asked proudly.

“Yeah. It had some really breathtaking stuff.” You nodded before a grin broke out on your face. Peter groaned loudly and covered his face with his hands.

“I hate you.” He said behind his hands.

“Aw, but I love you.” You jumped on top of him and pinned him to his bed. You sat on his chest and held him down by his wrists. Peter looked up and you shyly and prayed his roommate wouldn’t walk it. “You’re my best friend in the whole world. Even if you don’t appreciate my asthma puns.”

"Alright, get off.” Peter said, annoyed you’d reminded him that you were only best friends. “I can’t breath.”

You got off his chest and sat next to him on his bed in silence for a moment before a devious smile crossed your face.

"Neither can I." You grinned, making Peter fully shove you off the bed.

You somehow managed to work it into every conversation.

"Here." You said, sticking a sticker onto Peters arm.

"You're giving me a sticker?" He asked in confusion as he pulled on his shirt to get a better look at it.

"Not just any sticker. It says “you’re a cute-cumber” over a picture of a cucumber.” You explained.

“What would I do without it?” Peter asked sarcastically and he watched the childlike joy on your face.

"It's a scratch and sniff too. I didn't smell it yet, though.” You kept up your innocent act. “I don't know if you know this about me, but I have this thing called asthma. You may have heard about it."

"Mmm, no I don't believe I have. I had no idea you had asthma. You're an inspiration to us all." Peter replied sarcastically. You laughed and rested your head on his arm. “I am a grown man, Y/n. I can’t be seen walking around with this on my arm.”

“You don’t want it?” You asked a little sadly as you went to peel it off of him. Peter brushed your hand away and looked offended.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it.” Peter defended. “How else are the people gonna know I’m a cute-cumber? What if they think I’m just berry cute?”

You smiled widely at your best friend and smoothed the sticker back onto his arm.

You and Peter could joke about it, but God forbid anyone else tried too.

“If I got a tattoo, I’d get a big dollar sign on my bicep.” A senior, Harry Osborn stated. “To remind me to always secure the bag.”

“How lovely.” You said sarcastically and gave Peter a look.

“What about you, Y/n? What would you get?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know.” You answered.

“You could get an inhaler that says “it’s not easy being wheezy” under it. My friend got that one night when he was drunk. Funny as hell.” Harry commented. Peter felt his fist clench.

“Why would I get that?” You asked Harry.

“Because of your asthma.” Harry shrugged.

“Do you think having asthma is funny, Harry?” Peter leaned towards on his hands and you immediately gripped his arm.

“Peter, he’s only kidding. It’s okay.” You tried to calm him down.

“Do I find it funny your girlfriend is brilliant but doesn’t know how to breath? Yeah, a little.” Harry retorted.

“It’s not her fault.” Peter snapped, not bothering to tell Harry you weren’t his girlfriend.

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying, you gotta be pretty dumb to not know how to breath. And if it weren’t for that pretty face, she might not have gotten into this college. Something to think about. Food for thought, if you will.” Harry smiled.

“I won’t.” Peter lunged at Harry but you held him back. You pulled him out of the room by his hand and didn’t stop until you found an empty hallway.

“What was that?” You asked Peter sternly.

“He has the audacity to say you don’t belong here? His dad paid his way in. He asked me how to spell “biology” the other day. He’s a biology major!” Peter exclaimed.

“What he is is an idiot and you don’t have to sink to his level.” You rubbed Peters arms today calm him down. The flush is his face began to fade.

“He had no right to make fun of your asthma.” Peter said softly, making you heart melt.

“I know. Thanks for protecting me.” You said as you wrapped your arms around Peters torso. He rested his chin on your head and a sighed.

“Always.”

Even in the more serious moments, there was always room for a joke.

You and Peter went up to the roof to look at the sky during a particularly loud party. No one was up there but you two, giving you plenty of privacy. You walked to the railing side by side and looked up.

“Look, Peter, the sky.” You blurted. Peter looked and you and let out a groan.

“Really? You’re quoting Anne Frank? Now?” Peter asked you.

“I was quoting Anne Frank’s play, to be fair.” You held up your hands in defense.

“Moving on from that, I’m glad we can see the stars from here. I always wanted to stargaze with you but you could never see the stars from my building.” Peter said.

“I didn’t know you always wanted to do that.” You said with a fond smile. You looked at Peter, who had his head tilted towards the sky, and felt your face flush. You were seeing him in a different light for the first time, moonlight. And he was mesmerizing.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked as you looked at Peter and not at the sky.

“Yeah. It takes my breath away.” Peter sighed in content before looking at you to see if you were enjoying it too. To his surprise, you had been staring at him the whole time.

"You know what takes my breath away?" You looked right in his eyes. Peter looked at you expectantly and smiled.

"What?" He asked, desperate to know. You smiled back at him.

"My asthma." You replied. Peters heart sank and he stared at you for a moment. An amused smile still sat on your face as you turned your attention back to the stars.

"I love you." Peter blurted out. “I’m in love with you.”

You snapped your eyes back to Peter, expecting a goofy grin on his face, but instead saw his dead serious expression. He was being sincere.

"You..." Your eyes widened and you were suddenly gasping for air. You clutched your throat and slid onto the ground. You looked around for your purse, only to remember you left it at the party. You closed your eyes and tried to slow your breathing. You suddenly felt your inhaler between your lips and a hit of air rushed in. You opened your eyes and saw Peter holding an inhaler to your lips with panic in his eyes. You took it from his hands and used it until you could breath again, never breaking eye contact with him. When you calmed down, you took the inhaler away from your mouth and took a deep breath.

"How did you-" you began.

"I started carrying one around after tenth grade." He cut in. "Just in case something like that ever happened again."

You nodded and gave him a soft, grateful smile.

"Wow Peter.” You said timidly. He looked up at you, again with expectation. “You really know how to take a girls breath away."

Peter groaned and scooted next to you.

"I had to. You know I had to." You defended yourself and Peter laughed.

"I should've just let you suffer." Peter teased, making you giggle as you helped him stand up.

"Well I'm glad you were here.” You touched a hand to his cheek and he leaned into it. “You’re always here. Always protecting me.”

“I’ll always protect you.” Peter said assertively.

“I know.” You smiled. “That’s why I love you too.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #spiderman x reader #iron man #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #peter parker fluff #protective!peter x reader

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disenchantedfaerie · 4 years

Text

So many things to say and so many things not to say.

Fandom: This fandom is toxic. There is no other way to put it. It’s toxic from top to bottom, left to right, diagonally. My partners and I discussed this today because we were bored. We whole heartedly believe it starts at the top and by top I mean her majesty of the written word. Of course, now that’s she’s dropped the self diagnosis of “somewhat autistic,” you really can’t say anything because then you’re a horrible person. But she uses that as an excuse for her snark and condescending attitude. Hey. Whatever lady. I don’t follow you, I don’t read your books and aside from the few things I see, you’re no better than the leads. The difference is you’ve been milking the fandom for 30 years; people are waiting for you to finish and you can’t even complete the one that was supposed to be done last year. Yet you continue to yak about this side thing or that side thing and really, I don’t need a JF origin story. We’ve gotten that enough in the 9 other flipping books. You see the pattern here tho folks?

The female lead: She has done her share of being flippant and rude to people on her SM. She becomes sweet as pecan pie on Thanksgiving when she wants to want to launch something though. She was the one who wanted to end the shipper rumors and so IFH happened but sadly when you skirt around a subject and don’t say your partner’s name or take photos of them/with them and only take photos with your male lead in what could be construed as compromising positions - yeah. People will continue to buy what you sell to them. I’ve said it time and again, they are the biggest trolls in the fandom and do more to fuel the ship, even now that she is married to another man who is not the male lead, than anyone else. That’s all I have to say about her. She doesn’t owe anyone anything, none of them do actually, but sometimes being kind goes out the window with the lot of them.

His highness: Where to begin? His “fans” come all the way over here to our little corner of tumblr to hide behind Anon Asks to spew their hate and vitriol to those of us who seem to have opinions that differ from theirs. Namely, he is not a god. He is not someone we worship. We simply come together over coffee and tea and trade stories of current events and talk about the what if’s. My opinion of him is based on his own actions. Maybe all these “fans” want to blur the timeline of events and take it as gospel from his highness that he went on his luxury vacation before the travel ban while the rest of us cancelled ours and many lost jobs and incomes. Well that’s simply untrue. When he was called out, knowing he was wrong, instead of being the sweet, humble, normal guy that everyone says he is, he doubled down, became rude, flippant, went on a blocking spree, posting articles about COVID being no worse than the flu. Did his traveling companion get serious threats. I believe so. I believe he has as well from the same kind of people that come here to our little corner of tumblr, keyboard warriors that hide behind their anonymity and spew hate and vitriol. I also believe that people have gone to Glasgow and stalked his flat, which, come on people. That’s wrong on so many levels. I lived in LA for many years. It never occurred to me to drive to Malibu, Hollywood Hills, Laurel Canyon to actually stalk the celebs. Why? What’s the point? So I can see them in their grungy clothes looking like real people? No thanks. I don’t have that kind of time or energy. Thus the 4 page rant. Hey good for you dude. It’s about time you grew a pair actually but what did it accomplish? Nothing really except people stopped talking about his covidiocy. Why? Not because he wasn’t a covidiot and quite frankly still is (remember, he’s the king of “it’s not worse than the flu”) but because he pulled the mental health card. I think he does have mental health issues. I still have high hopes that some day he will realize this himself and seek the help he needs.

Now these Anons come to our little corner of tumblr and drop their comments saying things like “I hope you get COVID and die. It’s because of you he did his 4 page rant. The people you call mommies are his real fans.” Mmmkay. I used to blindly defend him. I used to buy into his shilling and his ever so sweet exterior, I even bought into the “best fans ever” bullshit. You want to blame us who never name him, her or the one who “writes” in any blog, never hashtag him, her, or the other one or the show, never interact with any of them on other platforms of SM for his 4 page rant, his mental illness, all of his flaws and accuse us of not being fans - fine. He who is without sin, cast the first stone. Perhaps you need to sit back and take a long look at yourself in the mirror as well. Wishing a deadly disease on people, making threats, spewing hatred - isn’t this the exact same thing that was done to his highness and you were all up in arms about it, yet you come here and do it to others and think that’s okay. What makes it okay? Because you’re defending your favorite star? If this is what it means to part of this fandom, part of his fandom specifically, no thank you. When y’all can walk on water, then you can judge me. Until then, judge not lest ye be judged.

I walked away long ago but I’m still human and still have an opinion, everyone does. If he’s your favorite celeb then perhaps you should follow his advice the next time you see something you don’t agree with - suggest you ignore. He’s the one that started the entire “be kind” campaign right? Or does that only apply when it’s comvenient? If you think this is the sort of behavior that will get you on his Christmas card list or the top of his potential list of never ending “girlfriends” - well, good luck. At some point this man (again, he’s a man, he’s flawed, he makes mistakes and he’s not perfect) will fall from the pedestal his fandom have put him on and then where will you all be? He has been unapologetic for all the things he’s done. He continues to shill his swill and all his other crap when a lot people can’t make ends meet. He continues to ask for donations to HIS causes instead of asking people to take care of themselves or their own communities. I love Scotland as much as anyone but my money right now is better served in my community. I ignore most of what they all do, following his own suggestion of ignoring, but things cross my dash and I do not condone or appreciate threats. I didn’t condone it when the threats were directed at him, his traveling companion, or anyone else nor have I ever made a threat against anyone.

I wish to be treated the way I treat others and if you can’t do the same, if you can’t engage with me in a calm, adult manner, I don’t have time for you. You can have a differing opinion than me. It’s okay. We don’t have to agree but we can respectfully disagree and discuss, not argue, about who’s right and who’s wrong. It isn’t cut and dry, black and white. We can agree to disagree and still be civil and still be friends.

My Scotsman added this: When will the games end, when will the games stop? I had high hopes for his highness to lead by example and be better but he’s a follower and he followers her majesty’s lead. He follows his business partner’s lead. He sees her milk the fandom, so why can’t he and he does an excellent job of it. His fandom vote for meaningless awards until their fingers bleed, buy all of his merchandise, buy anything he sells up to and including the ship. Is there an ounce of him being a genuine person left? Yes. He gives us a glimpse now and again but make no mistake, he will take you for what you’re worth. Maybe one day he’ll change and we’ll follow him again. Until then, I’ll be watching like my partner. I’ll be around.

I guess at the end of the day my point is this, the fandom made itself toxic and I highly doubt at this point it can or will turn around. Why would it? All we can do is choose to be part of the toxicity and contribute to it and pass it forward like these precious anons have been doing or we can choose to walk away, scroll on by, try to make the world or at least our little corner of it better.

I’m still disenchanted. I hope one day my wings turn white again with the promise of a better time and place. Until then, take care my friends. I’ll be watching and I’ll be blogging.

#my opinion #my rants #my thoughts #if you cant be nice scroll on by #be kind #suggest you ignore #too long dont read

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decayandfanfics · 3 years

Text

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut later.

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write crusty boy here really in character. At least after AfO is taken. Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.

___________________________________________________________

Chapter 8 / Chapter 9

You show me the man and I’ll show you the rule.

Tomura thinks he knows nothing about beauty, but then she proves him wrong.

(He thought her pretty before already, but after seen it…he concludes she’s the most beautiful, terrific thing he’s ever seen. Not that he would tell her that.)

A feral dangerous creature living inside of her with no other match.

No other but him.

Oh...you have no idea...She told him.

It happens so fast. One moment she’s there, sitting in front of her laptop, pretty and quiet and serene. All harmony and light, resting softly under the sunlight, between her dumb succulents and the spices that fill her home. Then he can hear Dabi’s caustic laugh and the wrong words. He’s disrespectful, an instigator, skilled in the art of making others lose their composure like is his favorite game.

He hears the foul words, the berating, and the mocking aimed to him, while she sits wide eyed and impossible flustered by the kitchen table.

Dabi smirks triumphant, like he always does after giving everyone a piece of his drama and Tomura watches him, wincing, reminding himself again that Dabi is supposedly oldest than him and Toga, and yet he does his best to being an annoying brat.

Tomura knows better to just let him bark, his remarks mean nothing to him, he knows what he is, and he knows what he isn’t. He’s a freak, yeah. That too, but he isn’t a child anymore, so he let it slide, keeping his eyes glued to his phone arching an inquisitive brow, ready to just let it die there.

He just forgot about the stupid little stunts of bravery she has this tendency to commit. (An annoying dangerous trait that makes him chuckle with something akin to fondness.)

She’s having none of the bullshit, Dabi’s little remarks had fed her up after a whole week of spiteful teasing, her precious patience has run thin.

“blue eyes are a mutation too, so you are no one to talk about it.”

The moment she opens her mouth, Tomura feels something warm filling the hollow place where his dead heart should go and it’s so foreign to him that for a moment he panics and thinks (very stupidly) that maybe his energy drink-based diet is finally going to kill him, and he (barely in his sweet twenty’s) is having a stupid heart attack.

But the pain never comes, it’s just her, voicing a clever answer, defending him.

“A quirkless little bitch? Seriously, Dabi? Where you raised in a fucking barn that you know nothing but fuck this and bitch that?

He wants to make her shut it, but he can’t find the words. Not when her remarks are sharp and funny to hear. (Besides, her voice sounds so sweet when she’s throwing smart ass angry comments just to back him up.)

It warms him and enrages him equally. How dare she to defend him? He can speak for himself on his own and doesn’t need her to make any back up about an insult he doesn’t care for. Stupid pretty woman. Trying to shut Dabi, putting herself in danger for the likes of him...Is she insane? (later that day, he’ll conclude that she must be pretty fucking nuts to have them all in her home after all, but somehow the thought only makes him like her more.)

“yeah. I know stupid cunt too.”

Dabi likes to cause havoc and now he’s pissed, so he throws a vulgarity aimed at her. Tomura feels the hot pang of anger at the other man, because the offense is not only an insult, but also a lie. She’s not stupid nor a cunt. She's sharp as a knife and kind enough to share with them.

“Dabi, cut it out.” He warns with a grimace, and now the fight has everyone tense in the room.

“I’m sure you do. Pretty useful to describe yourself I bet.” She snarls showing her teeth, an angry frown darkening her features and Tomura swears her eyes begin changing color.

“you sure like to bet, like how you are betting I don’t burn you alive for being an annoying bitch.”

This time Tomura gets fucking furious, something animal revolving inside of him at the idea of Dabi threatening her. But the fight is escalating so fast, he can’t say anything before she answers back.

“Fuck off, Dabi. This might be shocking for you, but you don’t scare me.”

He wants to laugh at this, truly. Feisty little thing she is when angered, all her soft ways and nerd knowledge thrown out the window in a fit of cocky bickering and a part of him is living for the chaos of it.

“now, that’s pretty fucking stupid of you.”

“Dabi, shut up!” Tomura growls irked with the way her hair has begun to float over her shoulders, now completely convinced that she’s not quirkless at all.

“I’m not the one insulting everyone just because I cannot deal with some fucking daddy issues.”

God fucking dammit woman, just shut up. He thinks frustrated, giving her a look worth a stab.

“YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT” Dabi snarls before kicking the little table in the living room, breaking one of its legs with a loud crack.

“CUT IT OUT!” she screams this time, standing from her chair “I don’t have to know when it’s plainly obvious you have problems with authority.”

“you really think you are so clever, don’t you?” Dabi states, crossing the living room, aiming to her, so Tomura leaves his place in the corner to stand at her side without even thinking why.

“I know I am, asshole!”

Dabi stops his tracks, looming over her like a monster. His eyes scanning her face before looking at Tomura, who stands by her with his hands open in front of him in clear warning.

The black-haired man looks at her before moving to Tomura, his brows raised in surprise as he chuckles darkly.

Shigaraki hates the way he looks at him, like he knows his thoughts. Like he knows he’s been creeping into her room to watch her sleep and the sinister lustful visions that sometimes plague his dreams after some playful back and forth every time she defies him with some smart-ass comment.

“stupid woman. You should know better.”

And then…he just slaps the laptop out of the table; the computer smashing open against the cemented ground.

Tomura remembers this moment like one would remember the witness of a car crush or a catastrophe. A simple second enough to amaze him for a lifetime.

The way her eyes just ignite into scorching red lights shining like burning embers under her frown brow. Her hair floats free from gravity over her shoulders like a terrible chaotic crown as her mouth flash pearly teeth in a feral snarl.

He watches how she claws her right hand, fingers curling, knuckles tensing and Dabi is suddenly choking under the pressure of some raw power. His limbs twisting painfully in horrific motion and unnatural angles in complete agony.

A second later and before anyone could grasp what’s happening, her other hand pointing pinky, index and thumb to Compress, Toga and himself, keeping them frozen in their place, a strange rigid pressure making him feel like he’s full of cement and any movement will shatter his bones and snap his spine.

He can’t move, he can barely breathe. Feeling like if every fiber of his being, every muscle, every cord is solid hard under his skin, unavailing him to get away.

But he can watch, so he watches her terrified and amazed.

Her quirk is rare, and powerful and dangerous. But she keeps it locked away, sleeping soundly, safely caged inside her ribs, like the best hidden weapon, perfect for torturing bodies and bending wills. Buried deeply under her layers of kindness and humor.

One twitch of a finger, and Dabi’s neck would snap in two and they can do nothing but just watch when little blood vessels begin to burst in the white of his eyes as he pants desperate for air, his veins contorting furiously under the marred skin of his neck and the flames scatter in some random parts of his body without any control.

Tomura swears he can hear Dabi’s bones crackle under the invisible force as his spine bends backwards in a sickening angle.

And, as sudden as it begins, ends.

Her hair falls and her eyes are no longer red. Dabi breathes again falling to his knees and for a moment Tomura thinks he will cry out of pure fright.

For a moment he wonders if Toga and Compress want to cry too because that felt like certain death, but is sweet, somehow. Something within him squirms joyfully with the notion of her own violence. She is as dangerous as him, no damsel in distress, no little girl in need of care, no simple quirkless girl, but a horrifying woman. A dangerous and powerful creature with a quirk made for torment, just like-

He looks at her, just to find a sad disappointed face. A thick trail of blood began sliding silently from her nose, tainting the perfect bow of her lip. Only then he notices the bloodshot eyes and how the color has run from her face.

She stands quiet and bitter watching between her hands and Dabi trying to catch his breath. Her face giving away guilt and self-loathing (two feelings he’s very familiar with.) but unlike him, she is no tormentor, she grasps no joy in watching Dabi suffer, nor do she wish of making them quiver to the sight of her.

She is kind, and brave, and witty. Humorous girl, quick at wordplay and puns; buying vitamins and oranges for them and something about no one getting scurvy under her watch.

He wants to laugh hysterically at her sight because she is magnificent, and for a moment he thinks that the boy with the destructive touch and the girl with the tormenting gaze sounds like a hell of a name for rulers and his heart shivers in excitement, but she is crying and clutches her guilty hands against her chest and ask them to forgive her for using her quirk on them.

She didn’t mean to; she didn’t want to. She likes them all very much, so she promises she’ll never hurt them again, and somehow it reminds him of something, but he cannot place a finger on what exactly.

He feels the sorrow drowning him. A grudge so horrid it makes him want to vomit and scratch his neck raw because something in her resembles something in him, but he cannot really grasp the motive of such connection, only knowing it has something to do with the hands he carries around like a symbol of his own distress and a little black-haired boy crying in some familiar backyard.

The sound of the bathroom door startles him and she’s no longer in the living room, but he can hear the quiet sobbing coming from behind the door.

Finally, Dabi decides to just fall backwards against the cold floor, still panting, an arm over his eyes.

Only then Spinner breaks the dreadful silence and ask the question they all want to make.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT.”

Chapter 10

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writer-dreams · 4 years

Note

I read your post "Enough" and I loved it so much! I was wondering if I could get another Slytherin Reader who is with Draco. She has anger issues and sometimes punches walls (hurting herself) because she blames herself harshly whenever she fails or messes up. Maybe, she's a death eater and she accidentally got Draco hurt (not killed) somehow? And he comforts her and tells her to stop blaming herself. Whatever you decide, I'm super excited to read. Thanks again❤️

Not Your Fault (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Hello, thank you so much to @beautifulbows924 for requesting. This has been sitting in my inbox for so long, it’s about time I got to it! I hope it’s close to what you wanted and I also hope you enjoy!

House: Slytherin

Blood Status: You choose

Warning: Mentions of torture, blood, self harm, and blaming oneself. Angsty.

Note: Angsty. The reader in this story is female / uses female pronouns.

Word Count: 3,123 words

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3rd Person POV

"Draco, you know what we're doing could get us killed, right?" Y/n stated to her blonde-haired boyfriend.

The male nodded silently and urged her to continue moving. The two knew that if they were caught here, they would both be executed by the Dark Lord. Although the very idea of that terrified them, they pushed on. They had to, it was the right thing to do. The once lively corridors of Hogwarts were now dark and deathly silent. The only source of light was the soft blue light emitting from Y/n's wand.

Y/n and Draco hated their current situation. The both of them were Death Eaters, definitely not by choice. They were held at wand point and threatened that if they didn't join then one of them would die. Y/n blamed herself, cursing herself for not being stronger, for not being able to defend herself. She felt personally responsible for making the two of them what they despised most. She hated that now the two of them had the ugly tattoo of the Dark Lord on their arms permanently. This is why she sought to make things right.

Since last summer, she had been sneaking out of the Death Eater headquarters and coming to meet Potter. She would tell the boy of the upcoming attacks and brought the plans for the next week. She knew it was dangerous business, but as long as it could help Harry defeat Voldemort, she could care less. It wasn't until a few months later, that Draco caught her and joined along. He too knew the risks, but he just wanted for this war to be over, and spend the rest of his life with Y/n. They had promised to each other that if one of them had been compromised, that the other must keep silent and continue giving Harry information.

So here they were, creeping around the halls of Hogwarts, trying to get to the Room of Requirement, where Harry was surely waiting for them. The couple quickly scurried up the stairs to the seventh floor, constantly checking over their shoulders to see if they were being followed. They finally stopped walking when they reached the familiar tapestry. On the wall across from the banner, the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. As the door was opened, they spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione standing by a table, talking amongst themselves. The trio turned with hopeful faces when the door swung open as they noticed who entered the room.

Y/n was always grateful for the golden trio. They were some of her closest friends and she could trust them with anything. When she had first told them about her relationship with Draco, they accepted it with a little time and threatened Draco that if he ever broke her heart, they would curse him into next year. They weren't angry when she told them that she had become a Death Eater. They understood what was at risk and knew that she would never support Voldemort. It was at times like this, she was glad she had such great friends.

So far, the Order of the Phoenix have been able to intercept and stop any attacks that the Dark Lord attempted. Voldemort was getting frustrated but he didn't yet suspect any traitors on his own side.

"Y/n, Malfoy." Harry greeted as he pulled her into a hug. "Were you careful that you weren't followed?"

"Yes, everyone else back there still believes that we're in the manor." Y/n nodded.

"Then we better get this over with quickly before they notice." Hermione stated.

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

Harry studied the girl in front of him. Y/n's eyes definitely had heavier bags underneath, and she was noticeably smaller than he remembered. He knew that she was stressed and blamed herself, though nothing he said could convince her otherwise.

He remembered the first time she had told him of the plan, that she would act as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix from within the Death Eaters. At first, he disapproved of her plan. He didn't want another one of his best friends to die. However, he saw the desperation in her eyes, the desperation to do something right, to dig herself out of the hole of self-hatred she had placed herself in. He reluctantly agreed, giving Y/n what she felt was a sense of redemption, for being weak and powerless against the Death Eaters.

He watched her as she spilled out all the places that the Death Eaters planned to terrorize for the next week. Malfoy stood beside her, often adding some extra details that Y/n would forget. It seemed so long ago that the five of them were sitting at a table during Hogsmeade weekend. Ron would be playing wizard's chess with him, Hermione would be reading a book next to Ron, Y/n and Malfoy would also be seated and enjoying each other's company. Harry would kill just for another moment like that, where they didn't have to worry about a dark lord, where they weren't risking their lives everyday, where they were all together and enjoying life.

Of course, that wish wouldn't be granted until this war was over. He hated it. This war, everyone involved, they were fighting for him. His friends were willing to put their lives on the line for him, for the good side to win.

Y/n finished what she was saying, handing a couple of papers to Hermione. She bade them goodbye, saying to meet back here next week. Malfoy followed close behind, his hand moving closer to Y/n's until he had grabbed it and their fingers interlaced with each other. Harry narrowed his eyes at the sight, he still wasn't exactly the biggest fan of Malfoy, he still thought he was a prat. However, even if he hated to say it, he was grateful that Y/n had Malfoy with her. That she wasn't alone at the Death Eater headquarters.

He admitted that at first, he wasn't exactly the most enthused to hear about her relationship. As he watched their love blossom, Harry noticed the way that Malfoy looked at Y/n. It was always filled with affection and adoration for her, proving to Harry that this relationship was true and it wasn't just Malfoy toying around with her. Harry could see that the two of them were willing to die for the other, which was something that he admired, how deep their affections ran for each other. Slowly, he began to accept Malfoy as some sort of close ally, though never as a friend. Maybe once upon a time, he would have wished for their relationship to end but now, he couldn't find someone better for Y/n.

Take care of her, Malfoy.

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A couple of months had passed. Months of acting as spies for the Order of the Phoenix. It was starting to get harder and harder to sneak out, with Voldemort ordering for there to be more security around the manor. The Dark Lord feared that if the Order had been able to interrupt all of his plans so far, then they would eventually plan to ambush him at the mansion.

Y/n and Draco were laying down on his ridiculously massive bed, Y/n's head rested in Draco's lap as he gently stroked her h/c hair. Suddenly, Narcissa Malfoy opened the door and walked into the room, giving the two teens a grave look.

"What is it, Mother?" Draco asked, trying to mask his fear at his mother's expression.

"Come downstairs. The Dark Lord is hosting a meeting with all of his Death Eaters."

Y/n and Draco exchanged worried looks but got up and followed Narcissa to the dining room. All the Death Eaters were seated around the large table, with two empty spots reserved for Y/n and Draco. Voldemort sat at the furthest end of the table, a terrifying smile on his face.

"Ah, there they are! My favorite young couple!" He grinned evilly.

The two did not reply and opted to silently sit down, trying to ignore the stares from everyone else. Under the table, Draco grasped Y/n's hand and gave her a small, comforting smile. The Dark Lord cleared his throat loudly and got up from his chair.

"So, as all of you know, the Order of the Phoenix has been able to foil all of our plans for the past few months," Voldemort started as he began walking slowly around the table.

"They always appeared to be ready, as though they were expecting us. It has come to my attention that we have a possible traitor in my inner circle." He walked past Y/n and Draco slowly, resting a hand on both their shoulders for a fraction of a second before he continued walking.

"They would have to be someone close to me. Someone sitting right at this very table. Only my most trusted followers may be seated here. They would have heard about my plans and reported it to Potter. So, who is it?"

Nobody moved or said anything. Any movement could lead to the Dark Lord believing you were the traitor. "Anyone? It's better to give yourself up now. No one else has to be hurt."

Still, everyone was as still as a statue. Even Narcissa had a blank look on her face to stop any emotion. "If you won't come out, then I suppose I'll torture it out of you. Each and every one of you." Voldemort sneered.

He pointed a wand at Y/n. "L/n! How about you be the first to feel how painful a 'Crucio' curse can be." He scowled.

"No wait!" Draco shouted while standing up, drawing Voldemort's attention from Y/n. "It's me! I'm the traitor! Torture me, not her!"

"No, my Dark Lord! It is me! Please, I beg you, don't hurt Draco!" Y/n cried out, also getting out of her seat.

"Don't listen to her! She had nothing to do with it! She's just trying to protect me."

Voldemort smirked at the two. He fiddled with his wand with his long fingers. His face was twisted with cruel smile and he chuckled a little.

"Ah, young love. You two would truly sacrifice yourself for each other. It's pathetic. Love is weak, darling. You'll learn that nothing good comes out of it. Take this, for example. Love is forcing you to suffer through pain, and for what? Just so your partner can live? How utterly ridiculous." Voldemort laughed. "Now, Malfoy, you're claiming that you are the true traitor and she's lying to protecting you?"

Draco nodded, though Y/n was sobbing and squeezing his hand tightly, begging him to just let her take the blame.

"Very well. You shall be taken in and executed for your betrayal to me." The Dark Lord walked over to Y/n and held her chin tightly between his index finger and his thumb. "Look here, my dear. Look at what love does to you. You plan to die for a person that will most likely forget you in 30 years. What is the point? The answer is nothing. After your lover here is gone, I hope you'll change your mind about something as useless as love."

He let go of her chin and adjusted his cloak. Two Death Eaters got up and casted a spell on Draco so he had heavy chains bound tightly against his wrists. Y/n couldn't move in fear of what the Dark Lord would do to her. She could hear Narcissa also crying out. Lucius stayed silent with a poker-face. Y/n couldn't even tell if he cared if his son was going to be executed.

"Wait, my Lord!" Narcissa shouted, her hand outstretched. Voldemort turned, seemingly amused at the pain in her voice. "My Lord, please. Lucius and I have been such loyal followers to you. I'm begging you to spare my son. Perhaps we could simply lock him away or prevent him from being able to hear us."

Voldemort seemed to consider this for a moment. He then nodded towards Narcissa, who's rigid posture relaxed slightly. "Very well. You are correct that the two of you have been some of my closest followers. It's a shame that your son couldn't do the same. The boy will be spared, however he will be tortured as punishment for what he's done. Then, he will never be able to attend any other meetings to prevent future plans from being spread."

He leaned closer to Draco, who had changed his expression to a blank one, similar to his father's. "When I'm done with you, you'll have wished that I had killed you instead."

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

Y/n paced around in Draco's room. Her head was spinning and she felt sick. From somewhere deep in the manor, she could hear Draco's bloodcurdling screams. Her hands were balled up tightly into fists, digging her nails into her palm. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she faced the nearest wall and punched it with as much force as she could. The wall cracked but she could care less. This was her fault. She should have told Harry to leave some of the plans alone to evade suspicion. This was her idea. She was caught and failed but Draco ended up paying the price for it. She punched the wall again, ignoring the pain that shot up her arm. It was probably nothing compared to what Draco was going through.

Again and again, she relentlessly attacked the wall. Again and again, she pictured Draco's poor face and listened to his screams that would surely haunt her nightmares. Her tears streamed down her face and they showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. Why did Draco love her? He didn't deserve to suffer the consequences of her actions. She should be down there. She should be the one that Voldemort was torturing. It should be her that was screaming, not her lovely boyfriend. Her fists were bleeding but she brushed it aside and continued her assault on the wall, screaming like a banshee.

By the time she was done, there was a decent hole in the wall and her fists were dripping blood. Did she care? No, not when her boyfriend was still downstairs and suffering. Any pain she was going through right now, Draco was feeling it ten times stronger. She leaned her head against the wall, sinking down slowly to the floor. She took her head into her bloody, shaky hands. The salty tears began to drip into her cuts, causing them to sting. She felt pathetically weak, wanting nothing more than for the floor to swallow her whole. She wasn't sure when or how, but she soon felt her eyes grow heavy and darkness surround her as sleep overtook her.

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

She woke up to the door opening. It was clear that the person was trying to be quiet, as they closed the door quietly behind them. Y/n was drowsy and wasn't sure what time it was. Outside, it was dark and moonlight spilled into the room through the open windows, barely lighting the room. How long did she spend on the floor? Her neck ached and her hands had dried blood all over them. She continued to watch the intruder, seeing them limping in her direction. At first, she didn't recognize them and her heart lurched thinking that it was a Death Eater coming to drag her downstairs. She tried to get up but as soon as she moved her head, the world spun wildly and she stumbled. Y/n looked back to the intruder but stopped as she saw the familiar blonde hair in the moonlight.

Immediately, she stopped and waited for Draco. He limped closer to her, his face contorting in pain with every step. He sat next to her on the floor slowly before rummaging through his pocket and pulling out a first-aid kit. He gently took her hands, seeing the blood, and taking out rolls of bandages from the kit.

"Draco..." Y/n tried to speak but Draco stopped her as he started to wrap her hands.

"I heard you screaming from downstairs. Clearly, I wasn't the only one who was tortured tonight." His face was the only thing she could see as the darkness hid the rest of his body. She could see his dark and tired eyes, his split lip and the various cuts that were scattered all over his skin. She immediately felt bad. Here was Draco, dressing her wounds before he could tend to his own, which were surely worse than hers.

"Draco, I'm fine. You're the one who needs medical help." She allowed him to finish wrapping her knuckles before she turned to him, with the kit between them.

"I'm fine." Draco brushed her aside.

"That's hogwash."

He reluctantly allowed her to help him undress, revealing all the bruises that littered his body. There was a large gash on his chest in the shape of a V. Y/n gasped and her guilt only grew. It was her fault that he was like this. If she had just been more careful, if she hadn't let him help her, if she hadn't-

"Y/n." Draco's soft voice interrupted her racing thoughts. She looked up at him with regret in her eyes.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this. I know that face, I know you're thinking of all the things you could've done to avoid this. However, the truth is, nothing could have escaped this. I was tortured and I would do it again and again if it meant keeping you safe from that Dark Lord bastard." He pressed a kiss to her bandaged hands, "Don't hurt yourself over things you can't control. We both knew what we were getting into. I love you so much and I would never regret giving myself up for you."

He looked so sincere that Y/n felt tears running down her cheeks again. Draco wiped away her tears before kissing her lips softly.

"I love you too." She whispered back before she pulled away and began bandaging his wounds. "Draco, how are we going to help Harry? Now Voldemort has locked us in this damned manor and there's no way to leave. I don't know any way to help him anymore."

"You've already done as much as you could. Trust me, you've more than redeemed yourself. Now, the rest is up to Potter." His warm eyes bore into hers as she finished wrapping, pulling her close to him and laying her head in his lap.

Y/n closed her eyes as Draco soothingly raked his fingers gently through her hair. He was right, she had done all that she could at this point. Now the two of them had to hope it was enough for Harry to defeat Voldemort.

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Once again, I want to thank @beautifulbows924 for requesting this, I actually enjoyed writing this one. I’m sorry if this was triggering or really horrible to read. I am in NO way romanticizing torture, self harm, or blaming oneself. If you are suffering from any of these, please seek help. My inbox is always open and you are always welcome to PM me if you need someone to talk to. Thank you for reading this story. If you have any requests, feel free to ask. Until next time.

-Jade

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