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rottendollface · 2 years

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Sugar storm.

Character: Childe Tartaglia | Ajax.

Warnings: NSFW, marriage, unprotected sex, oral sex (reader giving and receiving), violence, body horror, yandere behavior, female virgin reader, cockwarming, breeding kink; Childe is: 1) spitting in your mouth, 2) fucking you in Foul Legacy with CNC (but it was just a dream) 3) being a King of Abyss, because I want him to 4) licking your blood; reader is a kind of witch with Cryo Vision, blood magic, happy (?) end, 18+.

Summary: Headcanons about being a Childe's forced wife.

Word count: 4758.

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~ Please message me about all the typos and mistakes! ~

• Something was wrong with you: strange dreams, empty stares, and knowledge about herbs and drugs that your mother had never told you. Sometimes you started to talk like you were answering on someone's questions but when your mother asked you about this, you had always been surprised, never remembering those episodes.

• You started to understand your dreams with first menstruation. A hazy veil that covered forms of visions dissolved, and everything became clear to you. Some of your dreams predicted the near future, some of them just answered your questions.

• One day you accidentally mixed your blood with pain killing mixture and it worked too good for your surprise. You didn't expect it to have an instant effect: the patient stopped screaming, his heavy breathing calmed, and became fitful but quiet. Blood was the key to everything related to your strange, even devilish powers.

• When the danger hanged over the village, you felt it, explained your misgivings to the head of Morepesok. The threat was eliminated, but you were blamed in witchcraft. He warned you: if you try to use magic again, you would be executed.

And this was his gratitude? Your feelings became too intricate to bear, confusion and fear attacked your mind — in this moment you got your Cryo Vision, a perfect chance to save your reputation and blame it for every mystical thing you had ever done. Blessed Tsaritsa saved you from this ungrateful redneck! But your life wasn't so carefree anymore.

• One day your dreams left you, but your blood still worked as enhancer for drugs and even for Cryo powers. It was nothing more than the calm before the storm.

You would remember the 23th of January as the darkest day in your life. Sun wasn't seen due to a horrific blizzard; dark went faster than usual. Strange feeling tormented your heart, you couldn't find a place in your house where you could feel yourself safe. Wind was crying on the streets, fiercely punching glasses of your house. As usual, you prayed to Tsaritsa before going to sleep, your exhausted soul finally got a peace: you lighted candles to illuminate her little altar. You were lulled by the anguishing nature, then found yourself in strange corridor. It was dimly here, smelled with mustiness and something strange: persistent malodor with metallic and salty parts, maybe it was an old blood. Afraid, you forced yourself to walk through the corridor without realising that it was just a dream, a very unpleasant horrific fantasy.

You heard a noise that wasn't your steps. You turned your head around and noticed something big in the dark corner. It was first to react. With one move, it jumped out the corner and rushed to you, running quickly on his multiple limbs. You didn't want to know what was that deformed beast – you ran as fast as you could, your vision was blurred because of tears.

A hand catched your dress, pulled it down, making you fall, the other one got your leg. Hands, lot's of hands with deep bloody wounds and roughly sewn skin flaps tried to grab your body with their crooked fingers, every hand dragged you right to the cage of it's owner: something similar to a human creature but damaged badly, unrecognisable. Deep purulenting holes, oozing with white worms, reddish brown rotten flesh, infected with black enormously big bubbles, drool flowing out torned mouthes with rows of teeth of any form and size. You were screaming histerically, and they were screaming, chirring and howling with you.

The floor under you trembled. It was enough for them to shut up and freeze in horror. You fetched away but hands got alarmed, reached for you to slow you down, and tried to lug you to the cage. One of them thrusted fingers in your head, made you turn around forcefully to see Him: their King. You stopped moving as horror took over your body, your figure held still in a half-standing position. The choir of damned voices started singing again; they called Him, they wanted to present you to Him as a sacrifice to save themselves from His wrath. A wave of panic hit you when you saw Him: a tall, strongly-built man with large muscles. It was enough strength in His legs to smash you with one step.

The King formed the blade in his hands and twisted it, still approaching you. Prisoner's grip tightened on your body; didn't matter how hard you tried to escape, you couldn't. With one sway, He chopped the extremities of the prisoners. You fell on your knees but didn't shift and just waited for your turn to die. The King grabbed your body and threw it on His shoulder, holding His hand on your back to prevent you from falling. He took you to the main hall: the big golden room with massive throne made out of bones. He ripped off his long starry cape, placed it on the floor, and carefully put you on it. His armored finger traced your skin from neck to belly, scratching it with a claw. You got a chance to glance at him: the red featurless mask with one glowing eye and disheveled ginger hair. You reached your hand to touch Him, and He gently placed it on His mask like you were cupping His cheek. He pushed your legs apart, grabbing your soft thighs, and His erected dick kissed your puffy clit, made you twitched because of a sudden pleasure.

You realised what would happen next. You tried to crawl away or hit Him, but He was much stronger than you: He just pinned both of your hands above your head, continued rubbing your clit with His dick. He placed a tip of it on your wetness, inserting His huge self slowly. He let out a pleased groan, feeling your hot insides tightening and pulsating around him. There was no pain, only the pleasure of being full and stretched with huge monstrous dick. He started moving measuredly afraid to break His fragile doll but quickened with every thrust. He leaned down to you and lifted the mask to let His splitted serpentine tongue lick your neck. You moaned shamelessly under him; your back arched from heated pleasure. Orgasm started to build up when He grabbed your breasts, and suddenly, you woke up.

• Tartaglia felt uneasy when he returned to his home village. He wasn't a Tartaglia anymore, no – he became an Ajax, a rowdy boy with funny ginger hair. No one met him at the train station: he kept his vacation in secret, wanted to surprise everyone. He did a good job in Liyue, and Tsaritsa decided that he deserved a good rest from all the battles and eternal chaos he lived in.

While wondering through the streets of Morepesok (Ajax was surprised how big the village became during his trip), he saw your delicate figure in a heavy fur coat. You felt his presence, turned your head to him, and smiled as if he was your old friend. You just wanted to be nice, afraid to mess up relationships with locals: most of them were afraid of you, but a little part of marginals mocked you because of your powers and medical mistakes that sometimes had cost people their lives. You and your mother were the only doctors at Morepesok, and she trained you from a very little how to heal people with herbs and drugs. She wanted you to take her place once she would be dead. She created a good reputation for your small family and had always told you that family was the only treasure you had. You believed her; you followed her like a blind kitten, unable to think different way.

But did you want it? You didn't know. You remembered every bad word and an ungrateful attitude from the patients. You remembered how someone tried to stub you with a knife because of a stillborn baby that had died long before its actual birth. You saved its mother only with powers of Cryo, but they called you a witch, blamed you for freezing their baby to death. Everyone respected your mother, but not you. No one could ever try to say a harsh word to her, but insulting you was different: you didn't have her mature figure and a cruel glisten in your eyes. You would never fight back: you were afraid of deep wounds and people's screams full of agony and pain; you had always wanted to run away as soon as you got a chance. Someone called you a devil's whore because of Cryo Vision and never cared that Tsaritsa herself blessed you with this power. No one wanted you to assist during their procedures, and you obeyed. You didn't have this malice inside your soul and had never wanted to insult or curse them back. You wanted only peace and calmness.

But Teucer, this sweet boy with beautiful ginger locks, was always on your side. You saved him when he ate the poisonous berries, and there wasn't a day without him telling other people how smart and good you were.

• Boys your age had never showed affection towards you, and you had never liked them back. Older men tried to ask you in marriage, admiring your beauty and seeing you as a good house keeper, but your mother told all of them that you were still a child, a barren flower that weren't ready to produce even a menstrual blood. Of course, she fooled them: your figure was obviously feminine and showed readiness to bear children. Your mother made it clear for you that no one in this damned village deserved to be your mate; also, it was too early for you to think about marriage.

• Ajax was the first person who understood all your feelings. He was proud with his reputation of a merciless Fatui soldier; the animalistic fear he saw in other people's eyes made him more confident in himself.

When Ajax had seen you — the defenseless dove — for the first time, he couldn't resist a burning heat inside his heart. He wanted you as his trophy: a beautiful woman to accompany him in his trips. You looked like a living statue from Liyue: graceful feminine nymph, goddess of elegance. The sight of your face was enough to make his dick hard in his pants: plump rosy lips, round cheeks, red from a cold winter breeze, soft cheekbones and shining eyes. He was dying to touch you, he wanted to feel your velvet skin under his calloused fingers, but he didn't even talk to you.

• His family was so happy to see him again, he didn't have a chance to search for you or ask them about you. His mind was full of erotic thoughts, imagination ran wild, but it was just an illusions that could never replace you.

What was your name? How old were you? Were you a local? He searched in his memory but couldn't find any answers. When he finally asked Tonia about you, she was surprised.

'Did Teucer tell you about the berries?' she started playing with one of her braids, trying to calm herself down. 'Well, yes, she saved Teucer when he ate some wild berries, but that was the first and the last time we talked to each other.'

'Teucer did what?' Ajax cared a fragile hope that he heard Tonia wrong.

'He left to the forest and ate a bunch of a poisonous wild berries. Sometimes he is such a pain in my ass just like you!' Tonia replied angrily. 'We didn't even know what was that berries but she somehow knew that. Maybe she is really a witch.'

Even your mother didn't understand the type of poison, but you reacted momentarily. Of course Tonia had heard all the gossips, but she didn't show her fear towards you. She was so scared and only wanted Teucer to breath again, so she didn't care who to ask for help.

And you heard all the rumors about their family too. People told different things, but everyone blamed Ajax for all the bad events in Morepesok. A hilichurls settled near the village? It's Ajax had accidentally showed them a right way from the gloomy forest. Someone got into a fight? That's Ajax made them do this with his words. Sometimes it was whispers that Ajax became one of the Fatui agents.

Fatui... People in Snezhnaya were mostly afraid of their own military forces, but to you Fatui were the brave warriors, patriots who were ready to sacrifice their lives for Tsaritsa. You admired them and you were proud of every boy and girl who decided to protect their Motherland.

• You didn't expect to see Ajax again, but he had showed on the doorstep of your home with a bouquet of flowers and a bundle in his hands. He smiled to you with his best smile: the one that had always tricked people and made them think he was a good person. But something was wrong with him — you caught that pretty fast. His aura send shivers down your spine and all muscles tensed, ready to run.

'Can I help you? I think you mistook a house,' you said, and the look in his eyes darkened, made you afraid.

'I think I chose the right one. May I?' he looked past your shoulder. Timidly, you made a step back and let him in.

'My name is Ajax, I'm Teucer's brother,' he introduced himself.

'Teucer?.. Oh, this ginger boy, I know him. Is he alright?' you remembered your little patient but still were confused.

'Thanks to you he is okay. Please take this for saving Teucer,' Ajax gave you a bouquet, waited for you to put flowers in a vase, 'and this one is from me personally,' Ajax smiled again, satisfied with a blush of shyness on your cheeks. 'I hope I guessed the size.'

'You didn't have to... but thank you,' you were pleased with his attention and gifts, but something inside your brain screamed to you that it wasn't a true reason of his visit. He wanted something from you and he just tried to distract your mind.

'Would you like to have a tea with biscuits?' you asked him first to make him feel uncomfortable. Also you needed to have something at hand to protect yourself. It didn't matter what exactly: you've always carried a different scenarious in your head of how you would spill a boiling water on someone's face or stub someone with a kitchen knife. The most logical way would to use your Cryo Vision, but you used it only for healing.

Ajax was slightly confused but agreed. You didn't even realise that your hospitality played against you in this match. He watched your every move, rated how good you acted in front of him and how you organized your domestic routine. He followed you to the kitchen, placed a heavy samovar on the table to help you. He noticed your mother's stuff and bit his bottom lip. Things became more complicated in one second.

'I forgot to tell you my name!' You got alarmed of your forgetfulness.

'No need, girlie. I know it. Your parents have a good taste in names.'

You felt his discontentment, but didn't understand what screwed up his mood.

'I'll tell them,' you glanced at him, tried to read what in his look made your stomach curle in tensed waiting. 'Why did you come here?'

Your nerves broke under a rising panic in your chest. People went into your house only by need, not with their will. Ajax watched your hands and your surroundings, then laughed.

'Pretty girls shouldn't play with a potential weapon, huh? Easy, girlie. I just wanted to ask: are you single or taken? Nothing more. Maybe flirt with you a little, but that's all.'

'I'm single.'

'Very good. We will be a beautiful couple.'

'I'm not interested in it, please leave my house for Tsaritsa's sake.'

'No-no, girlie, you didn't understand. We will be a beautiful couple.'

• You became his wife in a hilarious short period of time. Ajax organized everything by himself. You didn't have a chance to know him properly, but got the most important information about him: Ajax wasn't a hillbilly with a huge ego, he was a Fatui Harbinger. A person, who didn't accept refusals. He had enough friends in the Government and in the Fatui to erase you from this life like you had never existed.

You didn't have to be told twice. Childe Tartaglia or Ajax, as you called him, was a really good man to marry and seemed to be in a deep love with you! Your feelings didn't really matter. You were not the first girl who married without love for her partner. You just needed time to adjust. Despite everything, you had never acted like a brat with him. To be honest, your life became much easier.

You didn't have to interact with other people's screams anymore. There was no reason to wake up early in the morning. Childe fulfilled all your wishes, even the smallest and stupidest; he bought you everything you wanted. You moved to the city with him and weren't afraid of people judging you for everything. You were grateful to Childe. He gave you a lucky ticket and wanted only to be loved in return, so you did your best: educated yourself in his hobbies, learned his habits and tastes. You cooked for him and showered him with affection when he returned home after dealing with work-related problems. You were always here to cheer him up; you helped him with his problems, gave good advices, took care of his wounds, small cuts and scars.

• You were a perfect little wife, a dream for all men. You didn't make friends with anyone, because Childe didn't want you to: you respected his wish as a good girl. You really didn't need other people in your life! Childe loved to discuss everything with you: politics, sports, culture, literally everything! He had never mocked you for being ignorant in some topics: he knew that you didn't attend school because you were busy with healing people with your mother. She taught you basics, but deep understanding of pharmacy and medicine you made by yourself. Such a smarty!

Sadly, you didn't have a private space anymore. Sometimes you were alone at your shared apartment, but not for long. Childe was clingy, he wanted to see you every second of his life. You adjusted quickly, got used to eat with him, cook with him, bath with him, read, walk, sleep, work... He tried to keep in physical contact with you: squeezed your hand when you went out for a walk, hugged you from behind while you tried to cook something to eat, made you sit on his lap and stuffed your warm tight pussy with his dick while you were reading a book. Of course Childe didn't want to leave your soft cunny, but he had to: work needed to be worked, formal dinners and parties needed to be attended. When he had to check and correct various reports, Childe made you sit on his lap, burried his dick deep inside your pussy. Your heated cunt was the best stress-relief for Childe, and you were always happy to make him feel better.

• You were afraid to have sex with Ajax at first: your mother instructed all the brides in Morepesok how to make their first time less painfull, but didn't have a chance to explain it to you. You married him in a four days, too fast even for Morepesok! By the tradition you spent these days with his family. Childe's mother was surprised a little but still sweet and caring. His father was cold with you at first, suspected that Ajax made you pregnant accidentally and took you as his wife because he had no other choice. You simply smiled to him all the time: Ajax explained you every possible scenario that would happen if you won't keep silent. But the way you were babysitting Teucer melted his father's heart.

Teucer and you got along splendidly. Ajax enjoyed watching you playing with his little brother, at the same time he wanted nothing, but to breed your tight cunt with his seed, make you bear his own children. His patience deserved a medal: these four days was the hardest for him. When you told him, that you had never had a sex before he made his best not to groan in irritation.

Arousal burnt Childe from inside. His kisses were deep and hungry but something clicked in his brain — wave of pride hit him, primal instincts of a cruel hunter rose up. You were laying naked, defenseless and shy like a little doe, tried to cover your beautiful body from him. He caressed you cheek, while kissing your lips, made you open your mouth then slowly spitted his viscid saliva. It was strange, but you liked it, found it exciting.

'C'mon girlie, don't be shy,' Childe traced his fingers from you neck down to your hardened nipples, 'touch yourself for me, show me how you fucked this lovely pussy with your fingers.'

'I didn't... it hurts,' you closed your eyes, dying out of shame.

'I'll help you then, but you owe me a good show later, doll.'

Childe chuckled to himself, started kissing your neck, eager to find all the right spots.

'Tickles!' you laughed involuntary, tried to push him away. He didn't stop, bit your skin to calm you down, but made you squirm and giggle even more.

You fell silent when he placed a soft kiss on your chest, licked a nipple, before taking it in mouth and sucking slowly. His hand went down to tease your clit, a moan escaped your lips when he began to rub it with circular motions. It was enough to make you wet, but not enough to satisfy Childe. He kissed your tummy, forced your thighs apart, ignoring a feeble protest from your side.

'I thought you don't want to get hurt, doll,' he opened your pussy with his fingers, pressed one on the entrance to check how wet you were.

He spitted on your clit and let his saliva flow down right to the entrance to make it easier for his tongue to slide between your folds. You didn't last for long: he licked and sucked your pussy, moaning with you. Before your orgasm he slid a digit inside, stroking your walls at the same pace with his tongue. You tried to push him out, but Childe covered your pussy with his lips and replaced a digit with a tongue to taste your cum. You didn't have time to catch your breath: he stuffed you with two of his fingers to ease the discomfort of penetration while your insides were still fluttering from pleasure.

Childe couldn't wait more: his aching erection craved for attention; he pulled out his fingers and licked them before letting you clean with your tongue.

'You're pretty good at sucking, dolly,' Childe laughed softly. 'C'mon, on your knees.'

Once you placed your face near his crotch, he pulled his dick out of shorts. Your eyes rounded in shock: you didn't expect him to be this big.

'Your cute expressions make me wanna ruin you, baby.'

He placed his hand on the back of your head and gave you instructions on what to do. You started to lick the tip with small kitten licks, teasing little dot of urethral opening, then kissed it before taking it inside your mouth. You sucked slowly, afraid to hurt Childe with your teeth. He pushed your head, making you take more. You choked, moved away, let go of his dick, and then caughed.

'Sorry,' you started with licking again, traced every vein with your tongue, pressed on them carefully. Your hand reached down to your pussy as you began to stroke yourself. Your breath turned heavy, and mouth squeezed around his dick, making Childe throw back his head.

'That's right dolly, you're doing so well,' you felt how pride was taking your heart with his praising. You let Childe cum inside, swallowed his seed to please him. 'So eager to be my cum dump?'

Your cheeks flushed.

'Still such an innocent baby,' he patted your head and gave you a deep, loving kiss. Again you were laying under him; you reached your hand to touch him, and he leaned in response so you could place it on his cheek. Shivers covered your body; you jerked, and all of your muscles clenched.

'I'm sorry, baby, I promise it will be no pain soon... just relax, okay?' Childe moaned, trying to supress his urge to fuck your tight hole right now. 'I know a woman has to suffer very unpleasant things. Just try for me, babydoll, try for our future kids. I'll make up for your pain, you know you can always believe me.'

He started kissing your lips, trying to distract you, but you recognized these beautiful ginger locks, the way he cared your body in his arms, and this sweet feeling of being stretched inside. You didn't know how you should react, but there was no fear or disgust. Yes, he made you his by threatening you at first and he was a man from your dream, a King of the cursed souls, but he was so gentle with you, so loving and tender, like a puppy. You loved him. But maybe you just lost your mind?

Childe's moves were slow and careful. Only after your permission he got more rough and faster, his thumb was massaging your clit to give you more pleasure. He didn't stop kissing you, his lips touched your face and neck to show you his appreciation. Childe grabbed your hips, went deeper, before cumming inside your pussy, marking your walls with his seed.

'So good, babydoll, you are so good,' Childe pressed a final kiss to your lips. 'Such a soft place for my seed. I'm blessed with you.'

• Aftercare was important for Childe. He wanted to cuddle with you after and tell you sweet nothings. Needed water? He brought you not only the bottle but your favorite snacks, too. He loved covering your body with hickeys, but if he accidentally bruised you, he got scared. He treated you like you were made of glass, a fragile statuette: of course, you were a future mother for his kids. Smart, brave, beautiful, with big kind heart: a perfect candidate. He knew you would be an ideal mother, and you deserved only adoration and tenderness.

• You took Teucer and Anthon to the city every weekend. Tartaglia spent enough money to entertain them: bought them new toys, sweets, fine clothes, and lots of other things you didn't even know had existed. Circus performances, amusement parks, and fairs were your usual program for the weekend. Sometimes Tonia joined your big company, and on these days, you and Tonia also visited bookstores and handicraft shops. You were happy for his little siblings, and the view of Ajax looking after his family made your heart melt in joy.

• Of course, he had never forgotten about his dove! Childe took you on every dinner party for Fatui's Harbingers. He pridefully introduced you to his colleagues, kept his arm on your waist, patting your curves whenever he wanted. For every dinner, Childe bought you a new outfit. He couldn't allow his queen to wear the same dress twice. You were free to choose his style, too, if you wanted. He loved matching outfits and got touched every time you came up with the idea of pairing clothes. He was so obsessed towards you, and everyone knew that he would kill everyone who was dare to touch you without his permission. He didn't leave you in public; you were always in his company. In rare cases he could leave you on Tonia. If someone flirted with you, Childe just laughed to himself. It wasn't your fault that you were such a beautiful doll. Your kindness had always played against you: no matter how hard you tried to get rid of a noisy person, they had never listened to you, but Ajax was here for you to fix that.

• You told Childe about your powers, and he gladly accepted your blood as a sacred gift. At first you mixed your blood with his drinks, but then he started to lick it from your cuts: fresh and tasty. He drank it only before dangerous missions to calm you down: he trusted his power and didn't need an enhancer, but you were so frightened that you didn't even want to let him go or insisted on being his partner and fight with him; Childe worshipped you like his saint defender. With your blood on his lips, he felt much stronger, ready to conquer the Archons. As you were everything good and sacrosant for him, Childe became everything dreadful and unhallowed to protect you, his angel.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #childe x reader smut #yandere childe #childe x fem!reader #childe x you #genshin x reader #SoundCloud

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moemammon · 3 years

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could i please request the obey me ! boyfies with an s/o who is like & chubby ? they get insecure about it (like being tall + chubby) and really are body-insecure to the point it’s like super frustrating too bc they want to express themselves through their outfits but absolutely hate clothes shopping and will break down bc of the amount of people, the clothing sizes, and being upset after trying things on... thank you so much!!

The Demon Bros react to a Body-Insecure GN!MC

(Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. This is something we hear all the time to the point that it almost feels dry and cliche. But! Just know that there's NOTHING wrong with the way you look, despite all the media we see centered around the world's idea of beauty. Beauty is subjective, and not eternal. Just be you. The best 'you' you can be!)

Lucifer

Do you REALLY think an age old demon would see anything wrong with what you look like? He's constantly surrounded by beauty, anyway, in the form of demons and angels alike

Besides, Luci isn't shallow enough to base his affections for you purely on how you look, so you don't even have to question that.

But he does recognize that you don't see yourself in the same like as he does, and he's so, so patient with you. After all, he can't have the love of his life doubting their self worth. The Avatar of Pride won't be having that.

Lucifer takes the time to tell you, everyday, what you mean to him. In the quiet moments when you two are alone, he'll guide your gaze to meet his own, and starts going down the list of the things that make you beautiful.

"To think you'd be self conscious about something like this.... Do you think I'd settle for anything less than perfection? Let me remind you again why I love every inch of you, MC."

Mammon

Taking up modeling gigs means Mammon's seen just about every body type under the sun, so do you seriously think he's that worried about the way you look?

He's a little slow to read the room, so it takes him a while to realize that you're self conscious. But when he tries taking you clothes shopping one day, and sees you're on the verge of tears after trying on two outfits, he gets the clue.

NOW he's being extra as hell in showing you how much he likes you. You start waking up to texts telling you how beautiful you are (with the obligatory threat that you'd better not show his brothers), he keeps putting his arm around you in public, and when he can muster up the courage, he'll even tell you in person how good you look in the outfit you're wearing.

He even starts sending you links to websites he visits to buy clothes. There's some good ones that have a wide range of customization options, and a pretty diverse size chart! It's not so bad if it's online, right?

"Anyone who's worthy of being around THE Great Mammon is worth a million grimm, understand? I don't really get all the fuss about yer body, but... I think ya look fine the way ya are. So smile a little more, alright?"

Levi

Levi can relate when it comes to body insecurities. He's a layabout, and the only exercise he gets is when he's forced to get it. He doesn't think he's much of a looker compared to his brothers, either.

So when you tell him how you feel about the way you look, he gathers up every ounce of otaku™️ strength to tell you that there's nothing wrong with your height, or weight.

He DEFINITELY values personality over looks, and even then it's not like he finds you unattractive. Seriously, he doesn't get your worries at all. Are you sure you can see properly..? They say staring at screens too long can mess up your eyesight, so maybe he should stop forcing you to watch so much tv with him?

And guess what? Levi can sew. Go ahead and bring him the clothes you wanna wear, and he'll get em fixed up for you! Or if you want something custom made, he's got you! Leave it to the master weeb and his endless cosplay knowledge! ✨

"L-Like in anime! It's boring to see the same body types all the time and it's nice when they change it up, s-so....Uh.... Anyway, I like everything about you, okay?! Your body is fine the way it is!"

Satan

According to his nerd calculations, you have no reason to be insecure.

Jokes aside, Satan listens to your concerns and handles them gently. No two people look alike and the world is full of different body types, so who's to decide what is and isn't beautiful?

As he sees it, you're healthy and happy, and isn't that all that matters? He can't take away your anxieties about shopping, but he CAN help you find things you would like to try out. He's pretty sure he has a book that teaches a spell for altering clothes in an instant....

Satan tends to think on the logical side of things, so you can trust that he isn't just saying nice things to spare your feelings. He means every word when he tells you how perfect you are in his eyes.

"Of the billions of people on earth, do you really think anyone can say what 'beauty' is? MC, you're perfect the way you are. Should I write a book about all the wonderful things I love about you?"

Asmo

If there's anyone who can appreciate all body types, it's Asmo. What can you expect from the Avatar of Lust, who's seen all there is to see? If anything, there's more for him to love~!

And his affection for your body isn't even entirely sexual. It's all about aesthetics! He loves every dip and curve of yours, from head to toe!

He knows you find it difficult to find clothes that suit you, so he's started having your clothes tailored. You're a little confused when he randomly starts taking your measurements one day-

Later, he returns to you with all those outfits you kept staring at a little too long, all tailored to your body type. Asmo has CONNECTIONS, baby. He's gonna make sure you find everything you could possibly want. He knows how crucial it is to express yourself through what you wear!

"Didn't I tell you you'd look great in that? I'm never wrong when it comes to fashion! And MC darling, you look as stunning as always! Ooh, I just love the way this accentuates your body~!"

Beel

Beel only has food on the brain, so he's the least likely to care for appearances. He loves you for your heart, because that's what matters the most to him. And when you're happy, he's happy!

He loves the look on your face when you smile at yourself in the mirror, and he wants to see that more often. So when you express your insecurities about your body, Beel has a plan of action in mind.

He hoists you up and settles you onto his bed, first grabbing your thighs, your hips, your torso, your arms, and ends all the touching by cupping your cheeks. His hands are warm with affection, and you could already feel yourself melting into his touch.

He looks you in the eye with that deadpan expression of his, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, and a potato chip to your lips.

"No matter how you look or what you wear, you're still the same MC that I love. Every part of you is just fine, so why do you worry so much about it? I'll remind you over and over if I have to."

Belphie

Um??? That means he has more to hold?? when you guys cuddle?? You're warm, you smell nice, and he loves you. Literally where is the downside to any of that???

Belphie takes your worries with a grain of salt, but he knows how insecure you are so he doesn't brush them off. He DOES however tell you that you're worrying yourself to death.

Also, do you really think a man that sleeps all the time is going to have washboard abs? Belphie definitely has a little chub here and there under those baggy ass clothes of his.

Speaking of clothes, he thinks you should just wear whatever makes you comfortable. You're wearing those clothes for yourself, aren't you? So just wear what you like.

"There you go again, talking badly about yourself. Geez.... I guess I'll just have to hold you in my arms until you realize how silly you're being. Come here."

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writeswheneverpossible · 3 years

Text

Perception, perception.

Perfect. Jeno was perfect. Despite all his imperfections, he was perfect. You didn't know anyone else who felt so right for you as he was. You had met many boys before, but none like him. But, would he even feel the same? You kept asking yourself that question ever since the day you knew you had fallen for him. That was a few months ago. Things changed when a new girl moved into your class. You still remembered that day clearly. To say she was pretty was an understatement. She was beautiful. If you could describe another person as perfect, you'd say it was her.

Your eyes had trailed on the pale girl then as she walked past you to the empty table next to the one by the window at the back of the class. You still remembered the way your breath got caught in your throat. As she sat down gracefully on her seat, Jeno’s face came to view and you could have sworn that he looked like an angel had appeared before him. That was the day you realised how silly it was for you to like him. After all, the two of them looked good together sitting side by side, like jewels crafted by the same hands.

The days went by with you trying your best to act normal around Jeno, no matter how badly you were hurting inside. The new girl had made friends with him and you saw them together around school most of the time, which had been your intention all along, wasn't it?

When your batch was done with the exams, a long holiday awaited all of you. But you spent most of the days alone with a heavy heart. After all, your current life was going to change once the results were out.

One day before the official release, the sadness in you got so overwhelming that you decided to take a walk around your neighbourhood. There was a small playground nearby which you used to play at when you were younger. At one point, it had become your comfort place. Anytime you needed a good place to cry, you would head there first, with a cap and the hood of your favourite oversized jacket to shield your face when necessary.

When you got out of your house, the sun was setting. The dark orange hues made you feel nostalgic. You took in a shaky breath before shaking your head and smiling sadly. You decided to savour how cosy your jacket felt that day and how it was similar to a comforting hug as you began to walk, trying your best to soak in the picture-perfect scenery around you. You took out your phone and clicked the camera icon. How ironic, you thought.

The walk to the playground was a seemingly short one, but one thing was different that day. Lee Jeno was standing in front of you. You looked down immediately. The two of you were a few metres away, but that only made you feel even worse. You felt like disappearing. You couldn't stand having him look at you. Especially not then. Not at that moment. Not when you were certain you saw him entering his house before you even went out. How? Before you could think of a possible explanation, he spoke up. You realised that you hadn't heard his voice in a long time and your heart wrenched inside you. It hurt.

“When are you going to tell me?” his voice was soft, but stern. You knew what he meant immediately. He began to walk towards you, but your eyes remained glued to his shadow, which was growing bigger by the second. “Y/N,” he called. No answer. “Y/N!” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders. Something inside you broke before you raised your eyes to look into his. They were glistening, and you couldn't tell if it was because of their usual spark or his tears.

“There is nothing for me to say, Jeno,” you said, smiling sadly. His grip on you tightened. “What’s wrong with you, Y/N?! Why are you like this?”

You could feel your bottled up frustration burst at his words. “What's wrong with me? Do you really want to know?” You asked him, getting teary yourself. “Yes!” he exclaimed, letting go of your shoulders, watching as you looked down, not missing the few tears that trailed down your cheeks, making his heart ache.

Jeno realised that you had been distant sometime in March. It was odd of you, considering how close you two were. Things only worsened when Irene, the new girl, moved into your class. Sure, Irene was interesting, and she was a great person, but that did not stop Jeno from noticing the way you would refrain from coming in between them, as if you were some outsider the two of them probably did not want to have around. You weren't. He initially shrugged it off when you repeatedly rejected his offer to study as a group with Irene together after school, choosing to believe that it was because you preferred to study alone since he knew how important the final year was to you. It was a determining point after all, as everyone would walk on their own paths afterwards. But that did not mean you should also stop walking to school together. The two of you lived next to each other after all. That was when he knew something was wrong, but you were so unreachable that he could never get the chance to confront you. You had stopped hanging out at his house during the weekends as well. It seemed the more Jeno tried to see you, the more you drifted away. You barely looked at him at school and talked to Jaemin instead whenever possible. Yet, you weren't your usual self even when he wasn't around. He didn't know seeing you act this way would affect him this much. But nothing compared to the pain of finding out you were going to move. To somewhere far, far, far away. And he didn't know, until the night before, when your mom went to have a drink at his place with his mom since they were best friends. That was how the two of you were able to grow up alongside each other. You were his childhood friend, his basketball buddy, his partner for all the imaginary adventures you guys went on as kids. So yes, it hurt to find out through catching the word ‘move’ in his mom’s sentence when he went down to get a drink in the kitchen. It hurt to realise that you were planning to leave without telling him. It really hurt. Yet he had no clue as to why you were acting this way.

You took in a deep breath before looking him straight in the eyes and said, “It’s because I hate you, Lee Jeno.” You looked away when you realised he didn't show any reaction. “I hate you for making me fall for you.

The way his eyes looked like they held the stars of the night sky on New Year's Eve as you two laid down in your backyard after you told him your resolution for the year flashed before your eyes. His eyes...they were understanding and comforting even after you insisted that your wish was silly. Falling for him was never your intention, but you went back to your room that night with butterflies in your stomach.

I hate you for making me feel pathetic for it.

The scene of you staring at Jeno as he slept replayed in your mind as it made you realise that he was beautiful all the time, even if his mouth was open and his face was squished. You, on the other hand, could never compare.

I hate that seeing you with Irene would only make me pity myself more.

Thinking about Irene and Jeno standing next to each other, talking and smiling only made you feel small every time.

I hate you for affecting me this much...for hurting me,” you cried, the sentence trailing off.

Tears streamed down your face. You wiped them away with the sleeves of your jacket. You took in a breath and calmed yourself. “But most of all, I hate myself for liking you,” you continued, looking at him then. “I mean, look at me. I'm nothing compared to someone like Irene. When I first saw the two of you sitting next to each other in class, something inside me broke and I realised it was pointless to even have feelings for you. You're my best friend after all, but you're also the most amazing person I've ever met and known. Who am I to even like you? Nothing is what I am.”

You turned to walk away without even giving Jeno a chance to speak. Yet he didn't stop you. Not even once. When you reached home, you realised that this was all probably for the best. You were going to leave tomorrow anyway. Even if Jeno did stop you, you knew even him couldn't prevent you from flying to the United Kingdom, your soon to be new home. As you were about to enter through the gates, a figure ran past you, coming from Jeno’s house, and you knew straight away who it was. Jaemin. Instinctively, you knew something was going on, but you were too tired to even come up with anything.

Jeno’s entire system broke down the instant you said you liked him. He was too shocked to even react. Irene and Jaemin had been right all along. The two had been trying to convince him you felt the same whenever they could sense he was worried about you or wondering why you had been behaving differently lately. It was wrong of him to doubt them. Deep down, however, he was certain you wouldn't like him. You were way beyond his league after all. You were the strongest yet kindest person he had ever known. He swore he had never seen anyone who smiled through their pains as much as you did. Even during the period of your strange antics, Jeno had never seen you lose your beautiful smile, which looked sincere all the time. The beauty of your entire being was and had always been clear to him for as long as he could remember. If you had only fallen for him recently, Jeno had liked you for years, masking his feelings by joking around whenever he accidentally blurted out things he admired about you. To Jeno, you were someone he could depend on. Someone he knew would believe his words even if the whole world insisted he was lying. Someone caring, patient and understanding. It was as if your heart had never been tainted by this harsh world, even though that wasn't the truth. Any guy would be lucky to have you because he already knew a few who actually thought the same. That was how he truly felt.

Shaking, he took out his phone and tried his best to type a short text before feeling his knees give out and beads of cold sweat form on his forehead. His breathing turned heavy and his vision was slowly darkening. He hoped to see you again when he opened his eyes.

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

You woke up the next day feeling lifeless and numb. You looked into the mirror of your vanity and noticed that your eyes weren't as puffy as you anticipated. You only cried during your talk with Jeno anyway, so it was expected. You brushed your brown hair, looking at yourself with utter distaste. If only you’d realise how beautiful you actually were. From your eyes to your lips, from your ears to your cheeks. You may look nothing like Irene, but to Jeno, you were something else entirely.

When you walked down the stairs with all your things in your luggage, you were surprised to see Jeno’s mom standing beside yours at the end of the stairs. You smiled weakly. You looked behind them in case Jeno would be around. He wasn't.

“Y/N!” Jeno’s mom cried, sounding worried. She rushed forward to clasp your hands once you reached the bottom. “Do you mind looking after Jeno for me? He came home looking so pale last night that he woke up with a fever this morning. I swear that boy can never take good care of his health...” she muttered the last part to herself, before flashing you her signature puppy eyes. “Please?” You were taken aback, uncertain that Jeno would even want to see you and whether you would want to see him too, after what happened. You looked at your mom for help, but she only nodded at you. You slowly nodded at Jeno’s mom as a result.

The walk to Jeno’s room was a difficult one. Your whole body felt heavy with reluctance. You prayed with all your might that he'd still be asleep as you hesitated outside his door for a moment. You twisted the doorknob, revealing a dark room with a figure laying on the bed. The curtains were still close and he was indeed still asleep. You closed the door. You grabbed the wet towel on his forehead and wet it in the warm bucket of water on his nightstand, before carefully placing them on his forehead again. He squirmed when you did, before fluttering his eyes open. Your heart stopped, before it began beating like crazy when he held your wrist. He felt extremely warm and his grip was soft. “Y/N?” he mustered. You hummed, not moving a muscle. You see him smile a little before a tear streamed down the side of his face. And another. He held his other hand to his face as he began to silently cry. You stiffened at the sight. It had been a long while since he cried in front of you since he mostly kept his feelings to himself, so you were uncertain of what to do.

“Please don't leave me, Y/N. You don't know how important you are to me.

When he first found out from your mom that you were hospitalized due to a bad fever, he had stayed by your side the entire time, missing out on school and getting his video games confiscated by his mother. Yet, he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

How beautiful.

Jeno found you the most beautiful when you talked from your heart because that was how he got to know the real you. Ranging from politics to the latest movie you two watched together, anything that came out of your mouth was beautiful. Not just that, but the way your eyes reflected your emotions as you spoke was equally breathtaking. You could be frowning, huffing, sighing, or even running a hand through your hair out of frustration and he wouldn't look away for even a second. In fact, they were all some of his most favourite looks on you. But, your smile? The one that never failed to make his heart race, but also calm him down at the same time? He would do anything to see it. Your laughter? He'd set it as his ringtone if possible. The giggles that escaped your mouth whenever he did something weird? He wished he could keep them in a jar forever.

How precious.

The first time you told him the story about your father, you had broken down crying. You rarely cried, just like him. You preferred keeping your negative emotions to yourself, which gave you the tendency to explode at unprecedented times, Jeno noticed. Nonetheless, the sight of you that day made him cry as well as the need to protect you from all the bad things in this world suddenly became overwhelming. He was unsure if he could do it, but one thing was certain: he wanted to be there for you, always.

Please,” he sobbed, eyes still closed.

You clenched your fists. You wanted to stay, you really did. But your plane ticket had already been bought and you had completed all the procedures necessary for you to study at your chosen university. You couldn't possibly go against your mom's words when this move was her job’s latest requirement.

Jeno let go of your wrist when you remained silent, and that was your cue to leave the room. You were more than surprised when you were met with your mom’s serious expression outside, her stern eyes boring into yours.

“Y/N, tell me the truth. Do you love this boy?” You gulped. You weren't sure if you loved Jeno yet, but having to leave him would surely wreck you in ways you never thought was possible. That much you were certain of. She crossed her arms when you didn't answer. “It appears you do.” She sighed. “If having you move with me would affect the two of you this much, I would have never accepted the request straightaway.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, mom. We'll both grow past it,” you lied. She sighed, placing her hands on your shoulders, and looking into your eyes. “It's not, though? Y/N, listen to me. When someone you love loves you back, you should realise that this kind of thing doesn't happen every day. Heck, people would do anything to have what you two have. Yes, your future is important, but if you can't even chase for who your heart wants at the moment, have you even the heart to chase for your dreams?” You were silent. You didn't know what to think. “Boy, are you stubborn,” your mom chided, straightening herself. She waved a hand as she turned to walk down the stairs. “By the way, I've asked someone else to replace me so the two of us won't be flying to the United Kingdom anytime soon. And I've also enrolled you to Seoul National University, which has been your dream university since you were 15 by the way,” your mom called back. Your eyes widened. How did she know, you thought. But she was your mother after all and that alone was reassuring enough. You couldn't believe what you just heard. All at once, you felt better. You twisted the doorknob behind you once more and promised to stay by Jeno’s side for as long as possible.

#nct 2021 #nct #nct x reader #nct jeno #lee jeno #jeno angst #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #nct dream

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peachfluffsoftstuff · 4 years

Text

Beyond The Reef [2]

Content: Soft Vore, G/T Vore, Unwilling Prey, Shark Mer Pred, Safe Vore

Word Count: 2515

Fandom: N/A; Original Content

A/N: The next chapter!! We get Skim’s POV, and some lore.

- Skim blinked dazedly, trying to remember what he’d been doing to feel so warm and satisfied.

As though in response, something inside him thrashed, sending waves of content through him. Suddenly much more awake, his hands jumped to his stomach, and he looked up at Devon with alarm.

“Was that supposed to happen?”

The older mer only nodded, looking amused at his panic.

Skim swallowed thickly, staring in confusion around the small reef. He remembered now. He’d been scenting the tiny mer that had stabbed him, and then everything went fuzzy. The uncertainty lacing his movements had briefly fallen away, replaced by an instinctual, single-minded focus on the being caught in his hand. It was… unnerving.

There were no signs of life in the colorful reef, no saviors for the boy the way he had been one for the other tiny mer. Despite Skim’s worry that there would suddenly be an entire group of tiny mers on their asses because of his actions, it was still unsettling that evidently nobody cared enough to save the boy from what certainly seemed like death. The little guy seemed to know it, too, with the way he’d resigned himself. He’d put up a fight for the other mer, but not himself.

“Let's go, Skim.”

Pulled out of his thoughts by his mentor, Skim sent one last guilty backwards glance towards the tiny village, and then followed Dev up out of the reef. He could still feel the tiny heartbeat within him with each shift and movement, like a ball of light warming him from the inside out. The sensation of tiny, panicked hands against the inside his stomach was impossible to ignore. He let out a shivery purr, feeling bad and good at the same time.

“Man, that was the worst…”

Devon raised an eyebrow at him. “Even now, you say that? The initial bond can be a bit disorienting, but most enjoy them as easy, on-hand prey. It feels good, doesn't it?”

Skim wrinkled his nose. “Well, yeah, but that doesn't mean I ever want to eat someone alive for real! Especially not someone who can talk to me and is terrified!”

Devon smiled approvingly at him. “I'm glad.”

Skim grinned back, smoothly passing under a reef arch, and then flushed lightly, hand pressed to his abdomen. “So… does that means I can let him out now?”

“Not yet,” Devon gently chided him, “we have to get to a secure area first. You saw how fast he was, he’d immediately dart off. Unless you want to do this all over again?”

Skim resisted the urge to groan and was rewarded by Devon rolling his eyes and continuing. “Luckily, I know a place nearby. Follow me.” Ignoring Skim’s subsequent cheering, Devon led the way.

Skim looked around with interest as they winded through a grotto closer to the surface, finally coming closer to actual landmarks rather than the long distance, open ocean swimming they’d been doing.

They eventually arrived at a slight indent, where the bigger mer shifted a boulder and revealed a narrow entryway. He gestured for Skim to go in, and got a confused head tilt in response.

“Aren't you coming, Dev?”

“This part requires the two bonded alone. It's your responsibility to explain the situation to the small one and become attuned. I'll be back when your time is up.”

Skim nodded, his fingertips grazing where he could still feel every tiny movement. He easily swam through the opening, and turned to wave at his teacher as he pushed the makeshift door back into place, sealing off the cavern.

The walls of the narrow tunnel he had entered were lit dimly by phosphorescent plants, and Skim followed them until he reached the cove further in. He only spent a moment looking around the enclave, noting the beam of light in the middle, and the soft plants spread along the sandy floor in patches, as comfortable a place to rest as any.

He moved over to the light first, peering up at the small tunnel upwards, all the way to the top, where faded sunlight was illuminating the bedrock through the clear water. No wonder this place was so secure. It was close enough to the surface that the top of the cave breached the water’s surface, so even if someone tried to escape that way, it would be a dead end.

Shaking his head, he quit stalling and turned his attention inwards, still slightly amazed by the pulsing beat of another heart lined up with his own.

Regardless of how good it felt, he had to let the tiny thing out, explain and try to help him understand why he’d done this. Focusing on a mostly unused muscle, he heaved, feeling the alarmed fluttering start up inside of him as his internals emptied themselves.

Acrid water fanned up and out of his throat, followed by the same small body that had been in his mouth once before, not too long ago. The tiny mer still tasted sweet and soft, full of life in the way he squirmed and shuddered. Skim forced himself to open his mouth, watching as the mer shot out in an uncoordinated whirl of limbs, twisting in the water.

For a moment, he looked completely disoriented, taking in his surroundings with the confusion of someone who hadn’t expected to see much of anything ever again.

Skim waited patiently for the other’s eyes to focus on him, and then smiled without thinking. “Hey there!”

The tail end of his greeting was interrupted by a choked-off yell, and in a flash of shining scales the tiny figure vanished.

“Hey, wait--!” Skim’s smile dropped, eyes wide with alarm as he tried to figure out where the smaller mer had fled to.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-! Uh, please, I’m not trying to hurt you or anything!” He thumbed his teeth insecurely, remembering too late that a jaw-full of sharp teeth was probably not what the blonde had wanted to see upon release. Not for the first time, he wished that he could have explained before he’d terrified the guy so much.

Remembering how he’d found the other tiny mer earlier, he hovered over the corals and seaweed along the cove floor, sharp eyes scanning the plants. He swept a hand slowly through the taller grass, and was rewarded with another glint of scales out of the corner of his eye. Dang, but this guy was fast.

Unfortunately for him, Skim’s vision was sharp, and he could see where the tiny figure now hid. Skim glanced at a nearby sizable shell, abandoned but mostly whole, and snatched it. Still acting under the pretense of searching, he moved closer to the group of coral, and glanced at the little guy’s hiding place.

He squinted, noticing the mer move backwards warily, closer to…

“Watch out!”

His eyes widened as he abandoned his acting and darted over to the coral, too late to stop the tiny mer from backing into a sun coral. The sea plant immediately reacted to his presence, curling barbed feelers around his body and crushing them together to try and collapse his rib cage. The mer was too big a prey for the carnivorous plant, but if Skim hadn’t been there, he may have still been exhausted or badly injured from trying to struggle free.

Luckily, Skim was there! He quickly reached out, ignoring the slight sting of the barbs as he wrapped his fingers around the thrashing body, tugging it gently free of the coral’s grasp.

He opened his hand to try and see what damage had been done, but as soon as he loosened his grip, the mer attempted to slip right through his fingers, still heaving panicked breaths. Skim cursed lowly and brought the shell still clutched in his other hand up, catching the small man in it and clapping the opening against his empty hand to keep him from escaping. He felt the mer’s tail graze him as he continued to move in the shell, evidently torn between trying to fight his way out or avoid contact with Skim at all costs.

Skim lifted the shell, and then eased his hand off it slightly, peering in at the little guy. He was pressed into the back of the curved surface like he was trying to merge with it, and visibly shaking. Skim noted the rapidly forming bruises along his sides and chest with concern; the coral got him good. He held the shell just a bit closer to his face, intending to get a better look, and promptly was rewarded with a swipe of claws and stinging pain along his nose for his efforts.

He recoiled, feeling the scratch along the tip of his nose with one hand and managing to scoop the mer into a loose, cupped hold with the other before he could dart away again. The smaller mer’s gills flared rapidly in fear, but he could barely even wiggle for the pain blossoming along his sides.

“Hey, hey, easy,” Skim soothed, setting the now-empty shell down and running his thumb down the tiny spine in a calming motion, “I’m not gonna hurt you, okay? Just let me explain.”

The mer shied away from the contact, his tiny claws digging into Skim’s hand in a weak attempt to hurt him. “L… Let go of me, please, just--” His soft voice cracked in terror, sounding nothing like the determined yell he’d used to warn off his friend earlier. Skim’s heart sank.

“Okay… Okay, I will, I’m sorry.” He opened his hands completely, laying them flat like a platform. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you, I’m sorry.” He watched as the mer managed to put a considerable distance between them with a flick of his tail.

Surprisingly, he paused, looking up at Skim with wary eyes. “Why… Why did you…?”

Skim cocked his head, and then realized what the mer was asking. “Oh, um, I was never planning to kill you,” he explained, earnestly. The mer shot him a skeptical look.

“No, really! I know my kind has a reputation, but I don’t eat people, half-fish or otherwise. The plan was always to let you out as soon as I got somewhere secure.”

“Then why even eat me in the first place?” Once he got past being suspicious, the little guy mostly seemed confused about why he wasn’t dead.

“Well, uh,” Skim tapped his chin, trying to come up with a good way to explain. “See, I’m a shark mer from the Eastern Depths, do you know what that means?”

The tiny mer shook his head slowly, skin flushing slightly. Skim hurried to reassure him. “No worries, I can just tell you! All sharks born there are cursed to live a short and cruel life, no matter the species. I don’t know who laid the curse, or why. According to my mentor, it’s been around for ages, but the loophole to the curse was only found recently.”

“You can loophole curses?” the tiny mer muttered.

“Apparently! We call it Bonding. Basically, by creating a link between your magic wavelength and a compatible non shark, you can trick the curse into thinking that you’re not a shark mer. I think because our wavelength doesn’t read as shark anymore? I dozed off at that part of the lecture, heh.” Skim rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You’re supposed to ‘just know’ when you find one that’s compatible with your magic type, which I didn’t really get until I fuzzed out when I saw you. Sorry about that...”

The mer shook his head, dismissing the apology in favor of all the new information. “So we’re… Bonded, now?” He asked, peering up at him.

“No, not at all! The whole point of the Bonding is that it has to be agreed upon, which is why areas like this are arranged for us to discuss it. We went through the first bond, so we at least know that we’re compatible magically. We’d only continue with the second bond if we both agreed on it, and even that’s not permanently binding. Anyways, if you decide you don’t want to, you can just leave! I’d give you a lift back, if you wanted. And I would go out and… do this all over again, I guess, until it works!” His smile faltered a bit at the idea.

The mer looked at his hands, face creased with thought. “And… what happens if I decide to stay?”

Skim tried not to look too excited, his tail swishing excitedly. “Well, it means a lot, some good and some bad! We’d generally stay together, like traveling partners, and I might end up in dangerous situations pretty often, though I’d die before letting you get hurt, of course! But you’d get to see pretty distant places, and I’m fine with coming back here to visit if you’ve got friends or family you need to check up on.” Skim saw the mer’s closed-off expression, thought about the lack of rescue, and hurried on.

“There’ll be a lot of new stuff to deal with, pretty fast. I don’t know if you noticed, but while you were in… my stomach, our heartbeats were aligned. That signifies that our magic systems are similar enough to link, and as a result we can Bond. And the full Bond itself… It connects us on an emotional and mental level, but in order to create it, and later on keep me from dying, our magical cores have to be in contact frequently.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly at the mer’s expression of realization.

“Yeah… It means that the whole ‘getting swallowed’ thing would happen… repeatedly. Which is a deal-breaker for a lotta people, I get it, but… please understand that I’d never try to hurt you or abuse this in any way.” Skim said, trying to project his sincerity into his words.

The tiny mer stared at him, gauging something, and Skim stared resolutely back. After a tense moment, the mer broke eye contact. “And what if I say no?”

Skim sighed softly, ruffling his own hair. “Then, you can leave, and I’ll help you get back, if you’d like? It’s only fair, since I dragged you out here in the first place.”

“... Prove it,” the mer said, softly. Skim blinked at him.

“Uh, okay.” He twisted to go face the entrance, and easily pushed the makeshift door out of the way, before swimming through. The mer followed in his wake, keeping a considerable distance. After just a moment, they were in open waters again. Skim peered around; no sign of Devon.

“Well, I can take you back home now, if you’d--” Skim paused, realizing that the mer had vanished from sight. “Oh.”

Well, there were plenty of fish in the sea. Still, he felt pretty bad that he’d so thoroughly spooked the little guy, even if it was unintentional. He swam up to a outcropping of rock and sprawled over it. Might as well get some sun while he waited for his mentor to check back in.

#Soft Vore #Safe Vore #G/T Vore #Mermaid #Extreme Cuddling #Emeto CW #Vore Writing #Vore Story #Original Characters #Beyond The Reef #OC: Skim #OC: Aless

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 9

"Take Me Instead"

Ao3

Warnings: canon typical violence, major injury

-o-o-o-o-

"Well, look what the bat dragged in."

Dick resisted a wince as his back was practically stabbed with the barrel end of an assault rifle. He twisted his wrists behind his back, locked there by his own cuffs. Not for the first time, Dick felt a ping of hatred for Bruce's constant paranoia. Plans for everything, even themselves. Therefore: cuffs are batproof.

And that wasn't all, Duke kneeled beside him in the exact same situation. On his knees, guns aimed point-blank, meaty hands on his shoulders to keep him down as none other than Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow, in his full get-up approached his new hostages.

This definitely won't be good. Dick didn't know how long he could last. Crane's knack for dramatics and monologues were ear-bleedingly boring on the best of days. Dick already had a headache thanks to the lucky shot one of Crane's children-of-the-pumpkin-patch-lackeys got on him with the back of their gun. Hey, sometimes even Nightwing accidentally got hit. He's human.

Honestly, Dick wasn't upset about being caught. Hell, he wasn't even that worried to see Scarecrow walz towards them with his dramatic scythe dragging on the floor behind him. Not even the flashing red lights of the lab they were currently in and the intruder alarms blaring put him on edge. What sent an ice cold shard of worry straight into his chest cavity was that Duke was caught also because of Dick's initial mistake.

Duke. The guy who was still in training. Who was just barely figuring out his meta abilities. Who could fight like a bat out of hell but who has never faced Scarecrow. Duke probably didn't know what to expect with this encounter, and judging by the glances Dick could feel being shot his way by his newest brother, Duke was expecting Dick to come up with something more productive than twisting his hands in his own cuffs again.

This was Dick's fault. He was the one who suggested Duke came with him to check out the labs built near the Fashion District. It's primary purpose was to research medicine for the brain. Things to help seizures, depression, etcetera. Which, of course, made it a prime possible target for Scarecrow whenever the villain managed to escape from Arkham.

The thing was, these labs were already raided for it's chemicals the last time Crane escaped. Normally, the guy was a little smarter than to go to the same supply of chemicals for his fear toxin twice. Dick took Duke for this reason, because it was good to learn how Scarecrow worked before actually facing him. That, and it needed to be checked anyway. He didn't actually expect Crane to be here, let alone in full get up.

It must have been a trap.

Well. Judging by the outcome of the circumstances, it most definitely was a trap. Crane was up to something. Something more than sending the mass population of Gotham into a fear crazed frenzy.

Crane stopped in front of his two captives, flicking his scythe around his body with the smoothness of silk. Dick let his neck relax as the scythes blade went under his chin to lift his head. It was just a fear tactic. One that Dick wasn't falling for. Crane was using the outside of the blade where it was dulled. If he was using the inside, then Dick might have been a little on edge.

Get it?

He stared right into the stitched eyeholes of Crane's hood. Clenched his fists behind his back. "What's up, Crane?" Dick kept his voice light and level; he even let a smile curve his lips as he spoke. The best thing you could do while dealing with Crane was remain calm and not show the slightest sign of fear. Hurt his ego. Make him sloppy.

It didn't seem to immediately rub Crane the wrong way though. He didn't even tense. "Well, you see, I've seemed to have come across two little birdies with their little wings tied-" Ugh. Dick wanted to barf- "and now I have to decide what to do about them."

"Ah you know," Dick replied in a sing-song tone. "Could just leave us alone. Birds tend to take care of themselves."

"Hmm, I suppose." The scythe was removed from under Dick's chin, but Dick kept eye contact as Crane stepped away. "After all, everyone knows it's bad luck to keep two two birdies locked up together."

Dick really wished that Gotham's Rogues would quit it with the theatrical flair. It almost made Dick miss Blüdhaven where everything was straight to the point. The amount of monologues Dick had heard from spending the last two days alone visiting the manor could fill a novel. And at least no one in the ‘Haven called him a bird.

"So I guess the only thing for you to do is to let us go." Dick sighed, like he was upset about it. Crane twitched and Dick couldn't help a confident smirk. "Unless you want the big bad bat to drag you back to Arkham so early into your escape. Your lackeys got lucky with us tonight, but do you really think you can take the entire clan with what you have now?"

Crane remained silent for a moment, and Dick could practically sense Duke resisting twitching or saying anything. Which was good. Duke’s being smart. Letting the guy who's fought Crane for almost as long as Robin had existed do the talking. Dick knew how Scarecrow ticked. In the end, it was always about fear. If his victims weren’t afraid then he'd get bored. Sure, he'll also most likely use Fear Toxin, but it was obvious Crane was planning something. He normally resisted throwing around Fear Toxin willy nilly. If he had a plan, the toxin was put away until he really needed it.

"Actually, little bird," Crane finally said, his voice deepening almost an octave. "I could have use of you. You see, I'm an expert at my craft, yet you bats always seem to not be afraid. Even when the world is trembling in terror, you bats hold strong. I don't understand it. I need to study this. Make a toxin that's impossible to resist."

"It's called an antitoxin," Dick scoffed. "No matter how many times you change the formula it's still always the base formula. Every hospital in Gotham had loads of the antitoxin."

Suddenly, Scarecrow was snarling, right up in Dick's face. Dick heard Duke swear under his breath, but Crane didn't seem to notice. He was too focused on staring through those threaded eye sockets right into Nightwing's milky lenses with narrowed, cold brown irises.

"No," Crane hissed, "you bats have something different. You get scared, but never afraid. I've seen you cry and scream on the ground, writhing in your own terror, but you always- always stand back up. I'm tired of making formula after formula to guess what finally takes you down for good. I need a subject. I need a bat to test on instead of random people in the street."

Dick immediately felt himself tense, but he tried not to show it on his face.

Okay. So Crane wants a human lab rat now. But not any human, a member of the very group of people he's never been able to truly defeat.

Okay.

So this was definitely turning out badly.

"Sorry, Jonathan, Sig and I are actually completely booked today. How bout next week? I think I can squeeze you in for, , hmm, let's say, next Tuesday?"

Scarecrow paused, tilted his head, then Dick knew he made a mistake.

"Ah yes, the Signal." Crane turned towards the yellow clad hero and Dick was moving forward before he even registered that hands tightening on his shoulders, keeping him forced down to his knees as Crane approached Duke. "Gotham's newest little bat, only; this one likes the sun."

Dick watched as Duke squared his jaw and didn't say anything. Dick couldn't see his eyes through the helmet on his face, but he could imagine the unafraid glare Duke must be giving.

"Hey," Dick called in an attempt to get the attention back onto himself, "we're not finished, Crane."

"Actually," Crane replied, his voice sounding excited and wistful, "I think we are."

Dick watched with a growing sense of horror and anxiety as Crane bent down and grabbed Duke by the chin, forcing Duke to bend his neck back at a painful looking angle. Duke grunted and attempted to tug his shoulders out from the grasps holding steadfast onto him.

"Tell me, morning bird," Crane whispered just loud enough for Dick to just barely hear him. His voice was husky with excitement. "What do you fear most?"

"Crane! Leave him alone!"

Dick went ignored as Scarecrow backed up, letting go of Duke's chin with a shove. He nodded and soon Dick was watching as Duke was hefted to his feet by the grunts behind him and held in place tightly. Dick struggled on his knees.

"It's not Signal you're wanting, Crane, you know this!" Dick tugged on the restraining holds still on him. He tried to get his feet under him, but the men holding him down had more power over him at the moment. Dick snarled. "You've had a grudge against me since I was a kid! If there's anyone you want for this, it's me! Let him go! Take me instead!"

Dick could swear he just saw the jagged cut of a grin on Scarecrow's face widen. Sharpen. "Yes, Nightwing," Crane agreed, his tone sinister with a touch of silk. "I've always hated you. The Robin without fear. It would be a pleasure to get you finally choking on your own tears. You were always the light to his shadow. However," Crane stopped to grab Duke by the arm and drag him forward, "I'm finding myself more interested in how the day to his night will react to my toxins."

Crane shoved Duke back to the lackeys and then shoved his scythe back under Dick's chin. "You'll have to be patient. Don't worry, whatever I create with him will be my masterpiece, and you will get a taste of it soon enough.

Dick snarled, his gut churning at the thought of Duke being tortured for who knew how long into the future. He tried to find his feet again, throwing his body back to unbalance the holds on him and get away from the scythe both at the same time.

This time, Dick was lucky. He managed to knock the men off him and climb to his feet. However, it was all for naught when one of the lackeys did the smart thing and hit him at the back of his skull with the butt of their gun.

Dick saw stars, and maybe his superhero name being shouted, but all he could grasp onto was that he was on the ground now, desperately trying to get a grasp back on reality as his head screamed in pain at him.

He just managed to focus on a blur of yellow being dragged off, but that focus only lasted a second before another blast of pain erupted on the side of his head, and he knew no more.

-o-o-o-o-

The feeling of gravity rolled, shooting Dick from unconsciousness straight into awareness as he was flipped from his stomach onto his back. He groaned, a migraine pounding away. The side of his head felt warm and wet. He had to blink a few times to reboot his brain and remember how he got here and why he was in so much pain.

And then, he remembered.

He jolted, shooting up to sit up but he was immediately met with resistance via Tim's hands grabbing onto his arms. The world swirled around him—looking similar to an old album cover from the 70s. Dick shot his arms up regardless of the dizziness attacking every one of his senses and wrapped his grasp around the front of Tim's suit.

"Signal-" Dick wheezed, tried to explain, but Tim just frowned and then began to shove Dick back to the ground, keeping his grasp on Dick's arm to pin him there. Tim was shockingly strong. Or maybe… Dick was shockingly weak.

Dick shook his head, but it sent the 70s into the 60s and his thoughts almost slipped away like fine sand. Duke. He had to focus on Duke. He was in trouble. Had Scarecrow already tested out his first drug? Was Duke already reliving his darkest nightmares? Dick didn't know everything about Duke, but he did know that in the short time he's been a part of the family business that he's already seen so much shit. The Joker and what he did to his parents being at the top of the list.

Dick remembered the first time the fear toxin made him relive his own parents' demise. He couldn't stop shaking for days.

This was Dick's fault. He was supposed to keep track of Duke. Show him the in's and out's of dealing with Scarecrow from the early stages, getting him prepared for when Crane eventually decided to reign his terror across the streets. That was the advantage the family wanted to give Duke. Make it so none of the future battles with Gotham's main gallery felt like it was too much. When you're new, big names could be confidence rattling.

And Dick had failed Duke. He brought Duke out. Dick didn't prepare for an actual attack.

Dick got Duke captured.

By Scarecrow.

It was all his fault.

Dick had to find him. Save him. He had to fix this. So he tightened his hands in Red Robin's suit and tried to sit up again. "Signal-" Dick tried again, but Tim didn't listen. He just shook his head and opened his mouth. Said something. Dick realized he couldn't hear. Everything sounded like the static on an empty radio channel. His own voice rumbled in his chest, vibrated inside his skull, but he couldn't pick apart anything else. And while the threat of deafness thanks to what was definitely a concussion scared the shit out of him, he couldn't just sit here and let Tim shove him back down to do nothing while Duke was most certainly in danger.

Dick forced strength he probably didn't have and attempted to shove Tim off from him. Somehow, against all odds, it worked. However, just moving his arms like that caused a spike of exhaustion to spear into his gut and it took every ounce of willpower in his body to work himself to his feet.

He stumbled once he was standing. Everything was spinning. His lack of hearing made his sense of balance dim. It was suddenly like he was a passenger in his own body. He knew he wanted to take a step forward, but he wasn't sure he did. His stomach rolled and he closed his eyes to catch his breath, but when he opened his eyes again he was laying back down face up, hands on his chest and legs straddling his hips. Pinning him down.

Dick felt sick.

He... He had to save Duke. He had to get whoever was on top of him off.

He twitched and his eyes closed again, only this time it was against his will. Something stinging stroke across his cheek, but everything was far away and he couldn't find his hands.

He fell into darkness again.

-o-o-o-o-

He woke up feeling similar to how Buster from Mythbusters looked. His head felt muffled. Far away. So much so that it took a minute for the migraine to kick in once he cracked his eyes open.

The lights were dim, thank heavens, so it only took a moment for Dick's eyes to adjust. He easily recognized the medbay of the Batcave, having woken up here too many times to confidently number. He reached up to his head and felt bandages wrapped tightly around his skull. Then, he blinked and realized there was a presence besides him. It took him a minute for his eyes to travel over to the side, but when he did his eyebrows rose and he went completely still.

Duke was there. In pajamas, sitting on a plastic folding chair off to the side of Dick's bed. Not a scratch on him.

Duke, probably having sensed Dick as well, looked up from his phone towards where Dick laid. A smile broke out on his face.

Duke started speaking, but Dick couldn't hear him. Not that Dick cared at the moment. He was too happy seeing Duke looking completely fine. Exactly as he should be. It was like a dream. Could this be a dream? Dick hoped not.

Duke finishes speaking, tilting his head and brows scrunching up. Dick realized that he must have been asked a question, but because he was too busy reeling over how this all seemed so impossible—because he could have sworn Duke was captured—to read his lips. Dick cleared his throat, thankful that he could still at least hear his own voice, and gave a shaky smile.

"Cn't hear ya," he muttered, his voice too scratchy and his energy too low to do much more than that. Duke's eyes widened and he looked to the side to definitely swear. Dick won't tell Alfred though. It's not like he heard it.

Duke looked lost with himself for a moment, bringing his hands up to his chest beginning to sign what he wanted to say letter by letter. Duke's still learning sign. Cass was teaching him and he was learning quickly. He was still a beginner though and didn't know how to say much more than basic conversation. Dick felt a laugh escape his throat, sending a spike of pain into his head.

"E-S-C-A-P-E" Duke signed, carefully shaping every letter with concentration over his facial features. He began to start singing something more, but then he stopped mid "N" and looked over to the entrance of the bay, relief melting the hard edges of his face. Dick turned to look af well and what he saw didn't really surprise him.

Bruce, still garbed in his suit, but his cowl and cape were absent. He looked tired. Frown pulled down a little more than usual. The bags under his eyes a little more vibrant. Bruce analyzed the room for a brief moment, but a smidge of life seemed to return to his face when his gaze landed on Duke and Dick. His lips twitched. They didn't become a smile, but it was almost one. Dick had learned to live with Bruce's almosts.

Duke opened his mouth and, judging by the way that smidge of relief and happiness on his face rapidly declined, Dick could guess what was said. Bruce expected Dick's hearing to be back by now. Dick tried not to let that clench something in his gut.

Bruce walked forward, his footsteps soundless, before he settled besides Dick's beside and snapped his fingers next to Dick's ear.

Dick tried to listen. He really did. It just… wasn't there. He took a calming breath, released it, then shook his head.

Now Bruce was full on frowning, and Dick almost expected Bruce to turn tail and retreat, maybe to call Leslie or research hearing loss caused by concussion. Instead, he was shocked to find that Bruce simply turned to pull another chair to his bedside, his hands already delicately placed in front of his chest.

Can you hear anything?

Dick shook his head and bit the inside of his cheek.

Should not be permanent. Leslie said to call her if it takes longer than a day to start returning.

Dick nodded. Took another breath. He could feel it lingering behind his eyes, the fear of never being able to hear ever again. It made him want to throw something, but Duke was here, and Dick couldn't focus on himself right now. He had to know what happened after his head was smashed in. Thankfully, Bruce seemed to know him well enough to expect that of Dick. That to avoid breaking down he needed to worry about someone else.

Escaped on his own. Called the family to find you.

Ah. So in the end, it was Dick who needed rescuing. Duke handled himself. Which, somewhere at the back of Dick's mind he knew Duke was a skilled fighter. He was a quick learner. Versatile. Give him a situation and he'd work it to his advantage. And maybe Dick was so worried because even though Duke was nowhere near the youngest of the family, he was still the baby of it. He'd lost his parents so recently. He was the newest to the fold. His trauma was still ripe. And maybe it was the big brother in Dick, but he didn’t want to fail Duke like he's failed all the others. Jason died because he wasn't there. Tim felt abandoned because Dick thought he was ready to let go of something he was still attached to. Damian died after Dick failed to defeat his killer. He never noticed Cassandra and her pain when she was with the League.

He didn’t want to be the cause of something so… so horrible in Duke's life. He didn’t want to look back on Duke and see regret and hindsight.

That almost happened tonight.

But he escaped. He handled it. Crane didn't torture anyone tonight.

Duke was okay.

He sighed and sank into the cushions of the cot and smiled when Bruce lifted a hand and wrapped it around his knee, squeezing slightly in reassurance. Dick shot one last glance at Duke and smiled. Duke beamed back, albeit a bit apprehensively. Dick didn't take the hesitation to be completely open with the family personally. Duke was still new. Soon enough, they'd all get used to each other.

Get some rest, Bruce signed and Dick hummed. Yeah, he felt tired all over again. Must be the head injury. Maybe the relief that everything had worked out at the expense of his hearing.

And Bruce said Leslie predicted it shouldn't be permanent. Within a few days, it would be like nothing happened. They'd continue to hunt Crane, only next time he'd be the one cuffed and dragged away. His vacation from Arkham wouldn’t last long, Dick would personally attest to that.

He'd do anything to make sure his family stayed safe during these stressful next few weeks that always follow an Arkham breakout. Everyone would return home safe, every single night. Dick will make sure of it. Hearing or not.

No one will be hurting Duke. Or any of his family. Not while Dick Grayson had a say in it.

#dick grayson #duke thomas #bruce wayne #nightwing #signal #batman #dc #dc comics #fic #fanfiction #jin writes #whumptober 2020 #no.9 #take me instead #major injury tw

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chubbyargentum · 4 years

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🌹🔥🧡😊🍏🍐🍇💜🍆 and that should be it, sorry for so many LBXJDNC

YESSS THANK U I LOVE TO RAMBLE

🌹 Felix likes to make friends, but he struggles with it. He is friends with The Bros, as well as Iris and Talcott, but these are very much situational friendships. People he just happens to meet aren’t quite as patient, so he might come off as a little bit of a loner. He considers the chocobos his friends, too. He doesn’t get socially anxious, but often conversations don’t necessarily go in his favour. He’s quite blunt, without meaning to be. Conversely, he doesn’t really have any enemies. Nobody has ever really been downright mean to him - unless you count Verstael and Ardyn, who are both dead. He sees things in quite a black-and-white way, though - if someone seems cruel to him, he will not want to be friends with them.

🔥 His favourite colour is yellow, because chocobos.

He loves all kinds of textures, but especially rough things. He likes to run his fingers across every single groove of something with a complicated texture. He also very much likes super soft things, and tries to surround himself in blankets, cushions, plushies and soft clothes.

His favourite food is keycatrich salad - Prompto showed it to him and he pretty much went crazy for it, because ‘it looks like gysahl greens!!’.

I think he likes a wide range of music - if you looked at his spotify, there’d be absolutely NO pattern. He adds anything that sounds good. I think he’d specifically like synthy, bassy noises, though.

He likes warm weather. It gives him an excuse to wear less clothes - he likes having that freedom. However, he does also like an excuse to wear a warm, fuzzy jumper during winter.

🧡 I think Felix’s favourite person is Wiz. Wiz is his adoptive dad, and he is the most patient, supportive person in the world. He really made Felix like he had a true home, and he’s always doing his best to learn about the way he interacts with the world. Even when Felix does something others might find frustrating, Wiz will just sigh and do his best to help Felix out instead of getting mad. He never thought he’d ever have human kids - his chocobos were all he ever needed - but now Felix is in his life he’s never gonna let go. Felix knows this, and he values it immensely.

😊 I feel like this is an obvious one - chocobos. Whenever Felix is upset, angry or scared, he’ll make a beeline for the baby chick pen. He feels so at peace around these birds. Though they don’t understand his words, they seem to know when he’s in a bad mood, because they become extra cuddly. Chocobos never fail to make Felix happy. He’s a very positive person in general, though - while he can be easily upset, he tries to see the best in life. I think that rubs off on the bros a lot.

🍏 I think Felix panics when he sees fedoras, or MT imagery. They remind him of when he was held captive in Zegnautus Keep. He sees someone wearing a black fedora and all he can think of is the strange, intimidating man who made him put on the MT armour and had him face up against Noctis. It was terrifying. I think Felix would react badly if he was triggered. Like, he’d probably go into meltdown mode. Hands over ears, rocking, humming, trying to do anything to make himself think of something else. He doesn’t hide the way he’s feeling, even if he doesn’t have the words to describe it.

🍐 Felix likes to be a positive person. He wants to see the best in everyone, because what reason could they possibly have for being cruel? A lot of the way he sees the world stems from his naivety. Unfortunately, this is often his downfall, because when someone DOES do something upsetting, he is immensely hurt. He doesn’t anticipate it, and he doesn’t know how to handle it. He doesn’t think reconciliation is a thing that he can actively seek out. He usually needs a middleman (often Prompto) to help him sort out conflict. Prompto tries his best to bolster Felix’s positive thinking. He’s pretty much incapable of being a pessimist.

🍇 Daytime, because nighttime is when the daemons come out. He much prefers the sun to the rain - when it rains, the ranch gets muddy, and he gets cold, and his clothes stick to his skin. Summer, because that was when he was rescued by Prompto, and it’s when his birthday takes place, and it’s when the sun comes out.

💜 Music over silence, any day. He cannot stand understimulation. He needs all the input, all the time. He prefers spells over swords, because spells can heal people. Swords can only hurt - and either way, he’s not strong. He likes the city of Lestallum, but he definitely prefers nature. It’s where all the animals are, and he can do things at his own pace.

🍆 He had coffee once, and it was a bad time for everyone. I think he enjoys tea, but he’s not opposed to hot chocolate either. He likes sweet things over spicy things - why would you put something in your mouth that hurt? He doesn’t understand that. He likes fruit and vegetables, but he thinks fruit are more interesting. Their textures are more fun to feel with his tongue, and the flavours are a lot more exciting.

#thank you SO MUCH FOR THIS #REALLY #I LOVE TO RAMBLE #SO MUCH #felix #ffxv #oc #rockabyebirdie

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headoverjojo · 5 years

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Can I ask for BucciG with a S/o that has an unearthly patience but when they finally snap, well... You'd better run because Ghiaccio, Fugo and Josuke just got fused together?

Hello there! Ooooh, snap babe coming!

Bruno’s gang with a s/o who has an unearthly patience but when they snap they’re terrifying

(Under the cut for length!)

Bruno Bucciarati

One of the reason Bruno fell so hard for his s/o was their incredible patience. They were always so calm, even the most troublesome thing didn’t seem to touch them. They accepted it with a smile and immediately worked in order to solve it. Their patience seems unlimited: they don’t complain when Bruno comes home late, due to work, when the boys are louder than usual, when, during a meeting some Caporegime is rude towards them -Bruno’s assistant- and Bruno himself. Bruno, not to cause more chaos, usually bite his tongue, if it’s nothing offensive. He -and the Don- don’t need more troubles than usual.

He chose his s/o to accompany him to every meeting right due to their apparently unlimited patience: Narancia was too loud, Fugo was already present at every meeting as Consigliere and strategist -but no one dares to fight with him-, Mista was with Giorno as his right arm, Abbacchio couldn’t bear even the slightest insult to Bruno… his s/o, instead, was placid and patient at his side, biting their tongue as much as him when someone said something inappropriate.

Still, during one meeting, everyone assisted to a very rare event: Bruno’s s/o snapped. And they snapped really bad. As one of the other Capiregime said something bad about the “rockie one”, they snapped so bad that Bruno had to catch them before they flew to the Caporegime to beat them in a pulp. Still, the murderous aurea they’re emanating is enough to keep them all in line for that and future meetings. And, from that experience, Bruno learned about a new side of his s/o: never make them angry! Even if he’s a little happy, since they unleashed their wrath for him. Now he knows how it feels!

Leone Abbacchio

His s/o’s patience was what, in the end, lead them to be a couple. Abbacchio was so unsure, so scared to hurt them and lose them not to realise that he was losing precious time right now. Someone else would have given up and let him go, but not his s/o. His s/o waited for him, with sweetness and kindness, without forcing him. And this lead Abbacchio, in the end, to finally admit that yes, he was in love, and yes, being with them was worth every risk. Their patience never leaves them even when Abbacchio is on one of his moody periods -even if he tries as much as he can not to weight on his s/o-, when he’s silent and closed in his world… they always wait for him. And Abbacchio knows it.

Abbacchio tends to retire in his shell especially in certain periods of the year. His birthday -for a long period he wished not to have been born, so his birthday was painful-, his ex partner’s birthday and the day he died. He’s grateful, even if he doesn’t say it aloud, that his s/o is understanding and leaves him the time he needs, every time. When he has grieved alone, he always comes back to them, hugging them and relishing in their warm presence, happy, deep in his heart, to see they’re still here.

This doesn’t mean that their patience is unlimited. They’re human, after all! And, the first time it happened, it wasn’t against Leone, as one could expect, but against other Passione’s members. They had to assist Abbacchio in a reconnaissance mission, to cover his back while Moody Blues was replaying. It was one of the “bad periods” and his s/o was more protective than usual. This was what lead them to knock down a fellow Passione soldato when they criticized Abbacchio for “being so gloomy and with a stick up in his ass”. Abbacchio too was baffled by their reaction and had to physically restrain them from beating the other too. He scolds them, but, also, he’s grateful… it’s nice to be defended, sometimes.

Guido Mista

He’s so in love with his s/o that sometimes he feels overwhelmed. They’re so kind, so fierce and intelligent… and also so patient. Their apparently infinite patience was what hit him more than anything else: when they had to wait for a target to appear, they never complained about it -while Narancia would have already started to whine and complain, making him lose his focus-, they just stayed near him, ready as him to shoot. It was on these moments of wait that they bonded, finding out they shared a lot of common points of view on life and world. He’s not a man who usually makes people nervous, but he knows that his phobia can be a bit unnerving, so he’s grateful for his s/o’s patience.

His lifestyle is not luxurious or over the line: even if now he’s the Don’s right hand, he still enjoys the small joys of life, nothing more and nothing less. The sun in the morning, his s/o’s hand in his, their kisses… it’s more than enough to make him happy. Still, a lot of people judges him bad for this: he could have everything, seen his position, and he’s content with just some crumble? Stupid. Mista know what people say, but he doesn’t care: this doesn’t stop him from doing his work as he should, so it’s fine.

Still, his s/o knows that, even if Mista doesn’t get angry or doesn’t show it, he’s a bit affected by those words. He’s not going to change his lifestyle because of it, but… it hurts, after a while. And his s/o suffers seeing Mista like this. Still, they tried to restrain and restrain until, at the umpteenth bad comment, they violently snapped even charging with their stand. Mista was totally caught unprepared: he never saw his s/o reacting so badly!! He tears them away from the poor soul, holding them in his arms to prevent them to beat the other up again. He confronts them, baffled and surprised, even more when they see that, after all the punches, kicks, screams and insults, they’re back to their sweet and patient self. What happened?? Did he just dreamed everything??

Narancia Ghirga

Let’s be honest, to keep up with Narancia one must be really energetic and, most of all, patient. Other than loving physical contact and cuddles. Luckily, his s/o is all of this: they’re energetic, always ready to follow him in every mission or prank he’s planning to do, often being his voice of reason, they adore cuddles and are not shy about holding his hand in public or smooching his cheeks and lips and, most of all, they’re patient. They have the patience of a saint. They’re not bothered by Narancia’s problems with math, they’re not annoyed by his loud and brash personality… they love him as he is. And Narancia is immensely grate for this.

Now that Fugo can’t be anymore his tutor, it’s his s/o the one who does it. With a way calmer and more positive approach, Narancia managed to do many progresses, even in math, to his s/o’s joy and pride. Still, many people look down at him, still considering him the weak link in the group. They see him as a kid, so the easier to defeat, just to face Aerosmith’s bullets. It’s easier when they’re enemies, but when those words come from other Passione’s members… he can’t even react. He just boils and keeps his anger inside.

Everyone thought that Narancia would have finally exploded, one day. But, surprise, it wasn’t him but his s/o the one who had a rage outburst worth of Fugo on his worst moments. They didn’t even call out their stand: they just beated them with bare hands, screaming how much they were done with all this crap, that they have to leave Narancia alone and stop with all this shit. Narancia is so shocked he can’t even move a muscles; when they’re finally finished and back to Narancia, he’s almost scared that they could unleash their rage on him, but almost immediately he notices that they’re back to their usual self. He doesn’t talk about this episode anymore, just hoping not to ever be their victim when their patience ends!

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo absolutely needs a person who’s patient and can stand up on him when he’s being stubborn. Gentle but firm, kind but strong, this is the person who could steal Fugo’s heart. And his s/o is so. They’re strong and determined like a real warrior but compassionate and kind like an angel. Plus, they’re the patience itself and he’s still amazed when they say they’re not annoyed by his anger bursts -more worried that he could hurt himself- or perfectionism tendencies. He knows he can be, sometimes, such a neurotic mess, but seeing that they’re still here and love him anyway helps him really a lot.

Even if now he’s one of the most respected people in Passione, as Consigliere and strategist, someone still talks badly about him, saying that he’s in his position just ‘cause he’s a Don’s friend, that he’s a violent, an uncontrollable angry man, that soon or later it will end badly for him… even if he tries not to listen to these words, mostly not to have a rage burst or breakdown in front of his s/o, it affects him so, so much, mining his already low self esteem.

But it’s when someone whispers about his tragic past, about the thing with his old professor that his s/o, to everyone’s dismay, snaps. They are even more violent than Fugo, a force that cannot be stopped, as they scream to shut their trap up and not to dare to speak about things they don’t know. Just when the other has passed out they stop, going back to Fugo, who was too shocked to stop them, and tell him it’s all fine, now. Fugo is seriously worried that they can have anger issues as him, but when they say they just snapped, after bottling up for so much time, he begs them to vent, when they need, in order to prevent such outbursts. He doesn’t want them to get hurt!

Giorno Giovanna

Being a Don isn’t easy. He knew it and his s/o knows too, but Giorno still feared that it could have been too much for them to handle. He’s always travelling from city to city to check how Passione’s various settlements are doing, he has meetings, when something serious happens he has to go personally, he has to always be ready for every kind of emergency… it’s not easy for them. It’s hard to have a free day just for them two. But his s/o is doted of an unearthly patience. When Giorno has to go, they just kiss him and tell him to be careful, if they can’t go with him. Giorno is so grateful to have them in his life, a safe harbor to always come back to.

Still, seeing his young age, some members are reluctant to follow him or to respect him -even if, after one look to GER, they understand how this young man won against the apparently invincible ex Don- but still, words go around. Someone doesn’t think Giorno is suited for the role, someone else that with him on charge Passione will fall down, someone else that the “brat” is too young to be a Don… Giorno knows his abilities and power, but he’s still human. These words affect him, even if he maintains a stoic face.

Until the day when, during a meeting, after the umpteenth veiled nonsense criticism from a Caporegime -and Giorno just clenched his jaw while coldly said he would have thought about that- they snapped. Badly. Since it was a Caporegime they couldn’t beat them up as they wanted to, but still their words are sharp and hit as fists. After that, no one dared to move against their Don, always eyeing the menacing presence near him. Giorno had problems to keep up the stoic façade and, the instant the meeting was ended, he asked for explanations. Not that he was disappointed! It had been amazing. Just… why? And this already happened without him to know it? He knows that bottling up feelings is unhealthy and he wants his s/o to feel comfortable to vent, not to always be the patient and kind one, if they need to.

#jjba #vento aureo #bruno's gang #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #guido mista #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #giorno giovanna #neutral s/o #patient s/o who snaps bad #headcanons #sfw #anon ask

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cant-blink · 5 years

Text

Brother, My Brother (PART 2)

Summary: The second half of my two-part story about Ghidorah’s early days of brotherhood. This time, introducing San!

PART 2

Ichi thought that things would get smoother as time went on. A thousand years ago, his first and only brother was born. A brother that has since been given the name of Ni. It was a terrible day, driven by violent instinct and bloodlust to dominate each other, and Ichi had thought their conflict would be over when Ni finally yielded to him.

He was wrong.

It was as if that angry burning instinct to fight for dominance never left his younger brother. The resentment he held towards the eldest brother was very obvious, constantly defiant to his orders and always challenging him on an almost daily basis to another fight for the alpha position. So far, Ichi has been able to come off victorious each time, but it wasn't a pleasant victory. Each battle was just as horrific as their first, and it was hard to enjoy a win when he knew Ni would stubbornly challenge him again some time next week. It was taking a heavy toll on the alpha head and at times, he wondered what would happen if he were to make a mistake during these fights.

Ni was a keen and observant fighter, he found, and would take any advantage available to him. He would only need for Ichi to slip up just once and he would pounce on it. Sometimes, Ichi was so tired of it that he would just ignore Ni's challenge to him. But his younger brother would take this as an insult and attack him anyway. There was no getting away from this. Why can't this stubborn... brat accept his place? Did he really want control that badly that he was going to fight him on this for their eternal lives? Was it not enough that he could have the body whenever Ichi fell asleep in their travels between planets? Hell, whenever Ichi woke up from these slumbers, it took effort just to wretch his own body back from his greedy brother.

Was it not enough that Ni, like Ichi, can indulge in dominance over the lesser life forms they would come across in their conquests?

Apparently not, because whenever they landed upon a life-bearing planet and Ichi tried to force dominance over the alpha species by challenging their leader, Ni would ruin it! More often than not, these alphas were substantially weaker than themselves and could easily be killed in an instant. But Ichi liked forcing their submission out of them before he killed them, really make a show of it so everyone would know who the superior one was. HE was their king. But Ni would view this activity as a waste of time; he saw no value in claiming dominance over weak insects and thought their time can be better spent destroying the planet and moving on to another that had actual worthy opponents to engage. Without any approval from his alpha, Ni would Gravity Beam the alien leader to oblivion before turning on the rest of the populace. Pissed that his game has been cut short, Ichi would reprimand him with a power-groom but this only led to them getting into another dominance fight.

Those dominance fights were especially dangerous, when they were on an inhabited planet. So far, their victims have been too weak to take advantage of their in-fighting, but Ichi can't help but wonder how long it'll be before that changed.

Shaking his head of the troubling thoughts that was a constant plague to his mind, Ichi focused on their current goal of reaching the next star system. Instinct told them that they really needed an energy boost before their next big growth-spurt. And for their next unavoidable conflict.

Two suns graced the landscape of a burning city, amidst of which was the large two-headed dragon.

The heads were in the middle of a very heated argument with each other, a common sight to behold. Their sharp words and venomous insults had yet to come to blows, but it was no doubt beginning to escalate in that direction when it was brought to an unexpected halt by an unexpected source. Before they had arrived on this planet, they had just finished the growth-spurt their instinct had prepared them for with the help of the twin suns. It was an exciting one, as it had brought them close to their full mature size. They thought it was all over and that they were free to test their new strength on the nearest populated planet, but now a sudden pain gripped hold of their body. A pain so intense that it had both Ni and Ichi cry out at the same time, their feud completely forgotten as they stumbled back through the wreckage. While Ni was confused at this and was glaring around for some unknown enemy, Gravity Beam at the ready to fire, Ichi realized he recognized this. This was not the work of an attacking enemy. He felt it before, a thousand years ago when Ni was born. This time, though, the pain was coming from his left side and he looked over.

There it was, confirming his thoughts. The growth that signified the coming of a new brother.

Ichi didn't want another one, Ni was horrible enough, and the thought to try to rip it off came to his mind. But he was aware of his own abilities, and he knew the move would be a useless one. This was happening, and despite his alpha status, he had no say in it whatsoever.

So they endured, Ni soon understanding through Ichi's reassurance that this was normal and just ride it out. The right head did not like this; although he took the pain in better stride than his alpha, he was not eager at first at the idea of having another sibling. But as the pain fades as the process completed itself and his mind began to clear, he realized something. It was clear to him that the alpha position wasn't going to be his in the near future, but maybe he didn't have to suffer the indignity of being the bottom of the pecking order anymore? As he watched the new head inch towards incoming Awareness, he didn't see this thing as a brother. He saw it as a golden opportunity.

Ichi watched patiently as his new brother's limp neck began to twitch, muscles testing themselves. This head too looked like him, as Ni had, but with smaller, straighter horns. And just as had been the case with Ni's birth, the alpha head began to feel the angry instinct rise within him. Ni too felt it, already snarling at the head but knowing to hold back. His Alpha had to make the move first, and even if that wasn't the case, Ni didn't want to attack his new brother while he was unconscious. He preferred to earn his place fair and square. So, like Ichi, he was forced to wait patiently. The new head only now took its first breath, testing its lung, and it slowly opened its eyes. New Head didn't seem to feel the angry instinct as strongly as his siblings, or at least didn't acknowledge it, looking around to catching his bearings instead. When Ichi began growling alongside Ni, the New Head finally turned towards them. His eyes weren't feral, like Ni's had been, and if anything, carried a kind of curiosity towards them.

Assert dominance, was the primary instinct ruling Ichi at this moment. He didn't want confrontation with his new brother so soon after ending one with Ni, but it was an impulse he could not ignore, regardless of the lack of aggression from this New Head.

Ichi began pushing against this new left head, snarling at him. He was prepared for resistance as had been the case before, but to his surprise, the New Head lowered himself, averting his eyes. The middle head almost blinked, but he continued asserting himself regardless, taking his snout in his jaws and pushing the New Head to the ground. His new sibling lets out a soft whine but gave no resistance as he pinned him with their wings and began power-grooming. New Head didn't even wriggle and held still. The message was clear: New Head instinctively recognized him as the alpha and didn't want to challenge him. He was submitting fully.

The eldest brother ceased the grooming, staring at his new youngest sibling, still pinning him. It felt odd that he was giving up so easily, but at the same time, such a relief. Finally, a brother that acknowledged his superiority without him having to beat it into their skull repeatedly. Why couldn't Ni had been like this when he was first born? Would've saved both of them so much pain and rage the past millennia.

He let out a soft snort before removing his wings from his sibling and giving a light nibble on the top of his head between the horns, acknowledging his submission and starting their new bond with a gentle groom. Unlike Ni, this New Head gave no objection to this gesture and let out a soft purr. It was a short moment to indulge, however, as Ichi pulled away. Further business had to be settled. This New Head still had to secure his place in their hierarchy and as this newcomer lifted himself from the ground, his eyes met with Ni's.

Whatever passiveness he held towards Ichi seemed to have gone, for New Head reacted to Ni's snarls with his own growl. It didn't sound or look as intense as his older brother's, but it was a challenge nonetheless. Ni shoved against him firmly, already attempting to power-groom only for New Head to nip at him in protest. It was a soft nip but firm enough to show that New Head wasn't keen on being the bottom of the pecking order either.

Very well, then. Ni was always up for a fight.

He gave no warning as he lunged at this New Head, eager for blood. The New Head pulled back to avoid his jaws from grabbing his snout, making a lunge of his own with the aim of grabbing Ni by the back of his neck. Ni saw this move coming, dodged by arching downward, and clamping his jaws into the underside of New Head's neck, right by the throat. He bit hard with no inhibition, earning a high-pitched squeal from his opponent. That scream only encouraged him to bite down harder, tasting blood. He can feel New Head's pulse against his mouth, felt his opponent's heart racing. Ni's heart was racing as well, living for the thrill of battle even against his own sibling. This was his chance to advance his rank and finally get out from being the lowest! Get out of being miserable with his place in life! He was going to win this or lose his head trying!

Like he had done with Ichi before, he began to shake viciously, tearing the scales. His victim was writhing and trying to pull away, continuing to scream as if that'll help him.

The alpha did nothing to intervene, instead watching silently with a blank face void of compassion as his siblings settled this between themselves. His only movement was that of the body accommodating their battle, shifting a bit among the ruins. He can see the New Head was horrified by the unnecessary blood being drawn, just as he had been a millennia ago, but it didn't cross his mind to do anything about how overly-aggressive Ni was being. If he can endure it, than so too can this New Head.

The brutality doesn't end as Ni slammed the New Head into the ground, snarling loudly as he gave another shake of his jaws. New Head continued to struggle, desperation clear on his face as he's slammed into the ground again. He wasn't even given a second to recover before his head had to endure another impact, this time by his older brother smashing his face into one of the alien's larger metallic structures. The sturdy material barely caved with the impact and blood smeared along the smooth surface, coming from New Head's nose and from the fangs that have broken from his mouth.

He made one more attempt to pull himself free, only for Ni to shift his grip and give another vicious shake. Skin tore off here, dangling limply from his jaws as New Head screamed again. Wide scared eyes met his narrowed glare, as New Head's instinct shifted from 'dominance fight' to 'he is going to kill you'-levels of panic. Irrational, perhaps, but he didn't care! Especially when Ni dropped the ripped off patch of scales and moved closer to him. New Head cowered, his head giving a small wriggle as he shrieked with horns flared. This was a defensive display made from the pure terror of a cornered animal, but Ni didn't back off. It wasn't submission so as far as he's concerned, this fight wasn't over. He struck again, ignoring the teeth sinking into his own scales as his jaws bite into flesh again. He can feel the New Head try to shake like he has done to him, but the move lacked the raw viciousness behind it.

No, there was only desperation.

Ni showed him how it was done and thrashed him around in his jaws, ripping another piece off of him. The resulting scream was cut off as Ni immediately clamped down again on his throat. His eyes catch sight of an alien structure by them, a spire, and there was no hesitation. He slammed New Head down onto it, impaling it through his opponent's neck. At this point, New Head's writhes become sporadic, choking out blood that splattered on his brother's scales. Ni still doesn't release his throat, feeling the heart pump erratically through his grip. After a moment, New Head's writhing died down before going limp and he choked out a pathetic warble, a pleading sound begging for his attacker's mercy. The sound was lost in the gurgling of blood and Ni's snarled as he clamped down tighter. New Head tried again, this time to be as loud as he can but no sound came out and another rush of blood choked him. With no choice, he spoke inwardly through their neurons. Desperately.

Stop. Please. No more.

Ni silenced his snarls and for a moment, all was still. But he doesn't loosen his grip as he growled out his words. "Then yield." A strangled squeak escaped from New Head as he managed a weak nod.

I yield. Please... I yield...

New Head has given up. He won.

Ni let out a huff through his nose, and he shifted his grip a bit to slowly pull his brother from the spire. The horrific damage was already beginning to heal, their body making it the priority over the more minor injuries. New Head wanted to just yank himself free in one go, as the pain was torturous, but his brothers did not allow it. Ichi finally involved himself, ensuring the neck got to heal around the spire before pulling New Head off a bit more. They continued this gradual extraction until they felt confident enough to allow New Head off the impaling structure completely. Ni, still gripping his younger sibling's throat, lowered New Head to the ground before he released his jaws to glare down at him. New Head stayed down, whimpering and crying like a pathetic scared creature. Ni growled at him, before proceeding with a power-groom. His younger brother held still in submission, making true on his forfeit, marking the first time Ni got to display dominance like this without retaliation.

Ni felt a rare smirk grow on his bloodied snout. It felt good, this victory. Sure, he still wasn't an alpha, but now that he had someone beneath him, that didn't seem so bad anymore. His days of misery was finally over.

With the battle now settled, Ichi began cleaning the blood from their scales, lowering their body where it was to rest. New Head laid limp on the ground, waiting for his injuries to fully heal. Even through his pain, and even though he still coughed up the occasional splatter of blood, he was glad. Glad this whole thing was over. Not even born for a full hour yet and already has taken such a massive beating. Winning wasn't worth it. Ichi and Ni may have kept fighting for days if they had to, but for him, those few moments was more than enough.

At least from this experience he learned that this whole 'fighting' thing wasn't for him after all.

If you were to meet Ichi just a week ago and asked him about whether he would want another brother or not, he would've answered with an immediate 'no'. Then he would've incinerated you for daring to ask such a question in the first place. But now...

Flying through the cold expanse of space that they called their home, their path taking them towards the distant point of light that marked the next planet, Ichi glanced towards his right side. Ni was keeping to himself, lost in his own thoughts as he tended to do during these long journeys. Ichi was certain that in the past, Ni would be thinking of new ways to dethrone him from his alpha position. Ni was not one to share his thoughts and feelings through their neurons, but his face wasn't exactly subtle, and its angry snarl and seething glare was all Ichi needed to safely make the assumption. That said, what he was thinking about now, Ichi wasn't so sure anymore. His face seemed... content. Almost peaceful even, if that was possible.

Ichi wasn't usually one to push his dominance on his brother unprovoked, as keeping the risk of fights with Ni to a minimum was always ideal. But now, he wished to test his brother's response. He had a feeling that something's changed in their dynamic since their newest sibling was born. So he moved over swiftly, tearing his brother from his thoughts as he began pushing his neck against him. Ni gave an internal growl, but it lacked the snarl that would usually grace his face. No teeth was being bared at him, no feral eyes glaring in his direction. No snapping, no biting. For once, he didn't seem interested in starting conflict with him at all and yielded easily to the show of dominance. A snout-bite or power-groom wasn't even needed for his submission.

It took a moment for Ichi's brain to be convinced he wasn't dreaming.

Deciding to test the waters even further, Ichi began softly nibbling the top of his brother's head. He felt Ni stiffen. This wasn't a power-groom as he no doubt expected, just a normal groom, to bond. Ichi was half-expecting Ni to lunge for him or at the very least, push him off in a show of rejection, but no. Ni was clearly uncomfortable and didn't like this, but he tolerated the gesture for the very first time. Now he had to be dreaming, right? Finally pulling away from the experimental groom, he left his brother in peace as he turned to look at the youngest.

San, as he has been deemed, was looking around with eyes full of wonder. This was his first flight through space and Ichi could feel the childish excitement his new brother was sharing to him. San was such a vast contrast to the rest of them, that Ichi wondered if their body specifically created this brother with the sole intent of ending the rivalry between him and Ni. Was it even possible that their body got so fed up by the amount of damage they were doing to themselves that it gave San life so as to keep the peace? Sure, San didn't want to be the lowest of the pecking order, but it was clearly something he wasn't troubled by either. Unlike Ni, San didn't let his low rank consume him until he had nothing but seething hatred for those higher than himself. Ichi could feel it in San's neurons: he had no intention of ever fighting Ni again and thus had no intention of bringing disorder to their now-stable hierarchy.

That was exactly what this broken family needed, and for the first time in a thousand years, Ichi can finally relax and enjoy himself once more. Things can go back to the way they were before this whole mess started, except this time, he had the size and the extra fire-power he needed to take on even the toughest adversaries this universe had to offer. No longer did he need to retreat from opponents too strong for him to beat, because with Ni and San at his side, such opponents would no longer exist.

So now, if you asked the question of whether he would want more brothers, he would take a moment to consider it, glancing at San as he did, before giving his response. The answer would still be 'no', but for a vastly different reason. There was no need for another brother because now, they finally found stability in their relationship with each other. The thought that he would have to endure an eternity of constant battle with his own blood no longer plagued him. Ni seemed content in his position and their newest brother was all they needed to make this happen. No need to fix what is no longer broken by throwing another head into the mix.

And then, after all that is said and done, all three of them would still incinerate you. Because you were foolish enough to stop and ask Ghidorah a question.

THE END

#im so sorry san!#i felt so bad for him writing this ;-;#it gets better tho #kevin-wriggles #ghidorah #king ghidorah #ichi #ni #san #kevin #godzilla #king of the monsters #godzilla kotm

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katsukiboom · 5 years

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Hi !! New here, could you please do a scenario with izuku or shoto with 27, 28, and 41 ?? Please and thank you so much

ohgodohgodohgod i feel like i fucked up but i had s o much fun writing this !!!!! i went with Shouto since i feel like i have way too little content about him on the blog, so i hope you like this my dude!

an: this is a fantasy!au with vampirism that isn’t actually vampirism... i’m not entirely sure where the idea came from lol

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He asked you to look at him, but youcouldn’t do it.

You weren’t sure if it was truly his voicecalling, but you wanted to look at him, if anything so your eyes could tell himeverything you hadn’t been able to.

Everything hurt, everything was spinning aroundyou and there was a faint whisper in your mind that told you time and timeagain to be careful, but you wouldn’t pay any attention to it over the painthat numbed your senses until you blacked out.

And just like that the pain was gone in aninstant, yet it took you two full days to recover.

Unfamiliar yet pleasant surroundings werethe first things you noticed when you woke up in a bed that wasn’t your ownthat afternoon, the warmth of the sun entering through the window and hittingyour skin, feeling like nothing but a distant caress – the bed sheets wrappedaround you like a cocoon and made you feel welcomed while you took in the roomyou were currently in. The beige that decorated everything was nice and calmingand there was a slight scent of cinnamon that covered the place, and it allfelt just… right, somehow.

That should’ve been the first warning butyou didn’t even think about it until you heard something – the sound of deadleaves being stomped on and laughter, and you looked around to see if there wasanything on like a radio or a TV, but there were no electronics around thatcould’ve let out that kind of noise. Gulping as you sat up on the bed, you madesure there was nothing else that could’ve made any sound before you carefullyuncovered your lower body and were partly shocked to see your legs slightlybruised.

You wondered what had truly happened; yourmemories were hazy and everything felt like a blur that stained most of yourmind, but when you got up you couldn’t help but think that something was off. Walking to the window on thefarthest wall of the room was an experience to say the least since your legsfelt like giving in at any point, but when you reached it you almost gasped outloud – there were three kids playing with dried leaves on their backyard abouttwo houses away, but for some reason you could hear them very clearly andalmost like they were right in that room with you and it frightened you beyondbelief. “What the fuck?” you asked loudly, just as the door behind you opened gently,the soft creak reaching your ears and making you turn around with confusionwritten all over your face.

Ah, there he was.

Soft eyes looked at you hidden behind astrand of dual-coloured hair and a small smile decorated his round face, makinghim appear even tinier than he already seemed and making your heart beat a bitfaster and your lips curl into a smile of their own. There were a few bruises onhis cheeks and neck but nothing you needed to be afraid of you thought, sinceif they had been dangerous to him you knew the first thing he would’ve done wasto cover them up. “I see you’re finally up,” Shouto muttered in a volume thatunder another circumstances would’ve required you to ask him to repeat himself.“I didn’t expect that to be so quick,” he added as you took in his appearance.

Pale skin slightly flushed, it seemed likehe had just come out of the shower given the fact that all that covered hisbody was a grey robe, his chest visible just enough to make you feel flusteredand light-headed as well – you had always loved how he looked so casual yetamazing, but the way he closed himself off from the world sometimes made youfeel like you weren’t his partner but rather an outsider, someone who had justno idea how to help with his issues. “Shou,” you whispered using the nicknameyou had given him back in high school, “what is going on? Where are we?” Hisright hand went to his nape and he scratched it as he seemed to think of whatto reply to that, but you were not in a position where you could be patient andyour smile soon faded away. “Shouto, the last things I fucking remember arebeing attacked on the streets and your voice calling out to me, and then I wakeup in a strange room being able to hear things that are a fucking mile away,”you started, growing more and more frustrated with each word. “What in hellhappened to me?”

“Look, I know you’re confused,” he tried toexplain, his heterochromatic eyes locked on yours yet you couldn’t make outwhat was going on behind them, “and you have every right to be, but just let mebe clear on one thing – if I hadn’t done what I did you would not be here right now and I… couldn’thave handled that.”

“What?” you were truly puzzled at his wordsand even if you tried to make some sense out of them you knew you’d fail. “Whatare you even talking about?”

Shouto took a deep breath and slowlywhispered, “I had to turn you.”

You were far too puzzled to even react –there was nothing in your mind that made you understand what he was saying but somehowit felt correct, and you absentmindedly clenched your fists to the sides ofyour body. The only times you’d ever heard that kind of sentence was in sci-fior even horror movies, but that meant something that could not be possible inreal life… was it? “Excuse me? What do you mean you had to turn me? What are we now, in a goddamn movie?”

“You were hit by a car a few days back,” hestarted to explain, making your head hurt with each memory he recalled. “We hada date, remember? At that new restaurant you wanted to try; we were on our wayback and we were arguing over some stupid shit I can’t even remember right nowwhen you tried to get away from me and cross to the other side of the street,and I couldn’t do anything… I felt helpless. I felt like a coward, and thereare many things you still don’t know about me but I couldn’t tell you before.I’ll take the chance if I have to.”

In just a moment you were in front of him,hand on his throat and anger invading you; how you had been so fast youcouldn’t understand. You loved him but if what he was saying were true, thenthere was no reason to believe you were the same as just last week. “What haveyou done to me?” you were sure you were fuming but not about how he saw youthen, or if he was the same as you.

“Check yourself out on the mirror,” hesaid, pointing faintly at a door on the other side of the room, where he hadcome out of; “Don’t be afraid ofwhat looks back at you.” You were cautious when you turned back to him and youdropped your hand to the side, walking backwards until establishing a nicedistance from him and then turning once more to the door in question.

When you opened it the most luxuriousbathroom you had ever been in welcomed you, and you noticed the small traces ofsteam that lingered in the closed room and the familiar scent of Shouto’scologne that you hadn’t realized he was wearing. It almost made you smile againuntil you remembered what you were there for – warily walking to the sink, youkept your gaze on the floor until you reached it and then gathered all yourcourage to look up, but you were so reluctant to know that you closed your eyesright before you could see your reflection. Whateverhappens, you told yourself, it’ll allbe fine.

And so you opened your eyes.

At first it seemed like nothing wasdifferent until you noticed: there was a half-moon shaped scar fading on thebase of your neck, white as could be, and your eyes looked like they had nevergleamed more. If you looked closely you could see a slight tint of red mixingwith your own eye colour, and you wanted to laugh at what seemed to be the mostridiculous, improbable yet certain thing that was now happening to you. It allseemed to fit like a puzzle and you gripped the ceramic sink tightly only tofeel it being crushed down under your touch, your strength multiplied but you weren’tsure how much. You were shaking as you walked back, looking at your hands likethey were something foreign to your body, and the way your skin paled incomparison to the colour you remembered it was scared you beyond belief.

Your back hit something sturdy and for amoment you thought it had been the wall but when two arms wrapped around yourform and making you cross your own you took a deep breath, trying your best tokeep the tears concealed. “How did you do it?” you asked sadly, and you felthim sighing against your hair as he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head.“What exactly am I now?”

“I have been like this for at least twoyears now,” he explained, his hands caressing your forearms with such delicacyyou were sure you’d break any moment. “Someone with some kind of vampirismQuirk helped me when I had that big fight a few years back, remember?” Howcould you not? Shouto had been the centre of every news outlet back when he hadhis biggest confrontation with one of the worst villains in all of Japan twoyears ago – he had been so badly hurt he had to stay in the hospital for onewhole month, and when the doctors told you there would be no visits allowed youwere certain he was on the verge of life and death. But one day he came back toyou in one piece, and you should’ve noted by then that there was somethingwrong with the way he had healed so quickly, but you were so ecstatic to havehim back that you couldn’t even think about it. “It was one of the doctors;faces before waking up again are still blurry to me though. I would’ve died ifit wasn’t for that.” You couldn’t look at him directly and you could tell hewas extremely sorry for doing what he did, but you needed to know, you needed tomake sure what would happen next.

“Is it like what the movies show?”

“Not at all,” he explained as he pulledaway and then grabbed your hand, leading you back to the bedroom and sitting onthe bed, waiting for you to do the same. His hand never left yours. “The doctorexplained that there would be no actual signs of me wanting to drink anyone’sblood, so I’m not sure how feeding works that way – I’m still feeling like aregular human, just with heightened senses and slowed aging. Healing is alsoquicker than in most people, but that’s pretty much all I know. I’ve beentrying to gather more information but it’s hard to find people who have it andare willing to talk about it.” You wanted to ask if he had tried talking to theperson who ‘turned’ him but when you opened your mouth to say something hepulled you in for a hug, one that felt way too soft. “Don’t hate me for doingwhat I did, please. I couldn’t afford to lose you – I care about you so much, you’re the reason why I’ve been able tokeep going all these years. I love you and want to protect you for as long as I’maround.”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, youmuttered, “I love you too Shou,” and little by little his presence becamebigger than the fear that still plagued your mind, yet you were determined tohelp him do the research in case therewas a way to turn things around if you ever felt like it. “You’ll have to helpme get used to this then,” you said and followed it with a little laugh, whichhe mimicked. “I’m still not sure about this whole deal, it’s… too sudden.”

“I know, but I’ll be here to help you,” hereplied and then laid down on the bed, pulling you with him. Under the mellowafternoon sunlight that brightened the room he seemed almost ethereal, and itmade you gulp a bit as your chest felt filled with butterflies. His handreached up to your face and cupped your cheek, and as you leaned against histouch he gave you a half smile with a sultry gaze. “You look absolutelygorgeous like this,” he added and you hit his chest with what you thought hadbeen moderate strength, but when he coughed a little you hesitated a bit untilhe started laughing out loud. “Now that’s my fucking baby!”

“Oh, shut up and kiss me you absolute fool,” you said as you closed the distancebetween you with a gentle peck on the lips, soon to evolve into something more.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #boku no hero scenarios #boku no hero imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha scenarios #mha imagines #my hero academia scenarios #my hero academia imagines #shouto todoroki #todoroki shoto #todoroki shouto #mine #Anonymous

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hannah-heartstrings · 5 years

Text

Flower Crowns

The story I’ve been promising since Dimileth week is finally finished. I’m sorry for the wait but it is better now than it would’ve been had I posted it before.

It turned out to be nearly 2,000 words so I’m putting it below the cut, but first a quick description:

Upon realizing that Byleth doesn’t know the White Garland Moon tradition Sylvain and Annette scheme to have her give one to Dimitri.

As spring started giving way to summer the sun beat down on the town below.

“Sylvain!” a girl weaved through the busy market street and up to the redhead. She held up a crown of white flowers.

Holding an arm behind his back and the other across his chest he bowed to her as she placed it on his head. “Thank you,” he gave her a bright smile. As he walked away he pulled out his arm, three more flowers wreathes hanging from it. He sighed at them. Looking back up he stopped as another woman stood in front of him. “Oh hey professor.”

Byleth looked amused at him draped in flowers.

“I don’t suppose you have a garland for me too?” he smirked.

Her eyes narrowed.

“I’m kidding, you don’t have to seemed so appalled.”

“What? No, I was just confused.”

“Because girls make them this time of year.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

At that he looked a little confused.

“I… also don’t know where I’m supposed to go,” she glanced off nervously. “I wanted to stock up on vulneraries.”

He pointed to the side. “Need me to walk you there?”

“No, I’ve got it,” she walked away, calling back, “but thank you.”

He turned to watch her, his surprise slowly turning to a smirk.

“She does too!” Annette’s voice echoed down the hall as she glared up at Sylvain.

He kept his voice low. “I’m telling you she was completely baffled.”

“But it’s a long running tradition, how could she have never even heard of it?”

“There seems to be a lot our professor has missed out on. She hadn’t even heard of the church of Seiros.”

She crossed her arms as she glanced off in thought. “That is true… Even though she’s been all over Fodlan she does seem to have lived a pretty secluded life.” She frowned. “Poor professor.”

“And…” he smirked, “I may have left out an important detail.”

Byleth sat at a table in the gardens reading over a textbook.

“Hello professor,” came a cheery voice.

She looked up to see Annette and Mercedes, each with a basket in their arms.

“Mind if we join you?” asked Annette.

“Go ahead,” she said politely before looking back down at the book. As the girls talked and laughed she kept glancing up at them.

“I’m sorry,” Mercedes finally noticed, “we must be terribly distracting.”

“Want to make garlands with us?” Annette was quick to add.

Byleth started to scoot out of her seat. “I’ll just-”

“We brought enough flowers. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“I…” she searched for the words to get out of this.

“Soon the flowers will be gone so we have to hurry and make them.”

Mercedes waved a hand. “But we understand if you have to work.”

Before she could answer Annette added “But you did tell me not to work too hard.”

She glanced curiously at her friend.

“Fine,” Byleth sighed, closing the book.

Annette squealed before pushing a basket towards her.

Pulling out a flower she looked confused at it.

“Like this,” she held up the row of flowers she’d woven together.

Taking out another flower Byleth began twisting the stems together. About an hour later she was holding a white garland, a little sloppy but finished. Looking over it she was surprised by how much fun she’d had making it.

“So Mercie, who are you going to give yours too?”

“I just made one for fun.”

“Oh come on.” She looked across the table. “What about you, professor? Anyone you want to give yours too?”

“I don’t know.”

Her lips pressed tight together.

“Thanks girls, this was fun,” she gathered her things, “but I should get back to studying.”

“Of course,” said Mercie, “we’ve kept you long enough.”

Annette, starting to look stressed, just nodded as Byleth walked off.

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” she turned to Mercie. “Meet you later for kitchen duty?”

“Of course.”

Jumping up she ran off to search the monastery. She was glaring by the time she found Sylvain standing around.

“Uh oh. What’d I do now?”

“How am I supposed to get her to give it to him without mentioning him?”

“You just have to play it smooth.”

She threw her fists down. “What does that mean?”

“Look, if we’re right about those two then he’ll naturally come to mind, you just have to say something that makes her think of him.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” he ran a hand through his hair as he thought. “Hey, seen any cute guys lately?”

“That’s playing it smooth?”

Pulling his hand from his hair he shrugged. “I don’t really have a line for this kind of thing.”

She huffed.

“Just be patient and keep a lookout for the right opportunity.”

She crossed her arms but resigned. “All right…”

Byleth came down the stairs with an armful of books.

As the professor walked away Annette peeked out from behind a corner before starting after her. She froze for a second before running off.

Byleth walked back, looking around confused before going another way. Walking through the reception hall she found herself in a small courtyard. She looked around confused.

“Professor?”

She turned to see a tall blond man behind her.

“Hello Dimitri.”

“Is everything all right? You look lost.”

“I am. Where’s…” she grimaced, “the classroom?”

He gave a kind smile. “This way.”

As they walked away Annette peeked out from the doorway and grinned.

He passed the gazebo, Byleth following beside him.

“Thank you.” Her embarrassment left a heaviness in her tone.

“Think nothing of it. I found this place to be a maze at first too.”

“I feel like I need to walk around with a map.”

“It might not be a bad idea.” He glanced at her. “That’s a lot of books.”

She looked down, the stack nearly reaching her chin. “Yeah… Just making sure I’m read up on everything I need to teach. To be honest I don’t know why they’d choose me to be a teacher.” She glanced up at him surprised she’d just told him that, that she’d felt safe to.

“Your experience more than makes up for what you lack.” Reaching the classrooms he turned to smile at her. “You’re the reason we won the mock battle after all.”

She smiled a little back. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“I can hold my own but I’m better with you.” His smile faltered, looking nervous. “You can find your way from here.”

“Thank you.”

He bowed before walking off.

She turned away slowly, her gaze lingering on him.

“Hello Professor!”

She was startled as Annette was suddenly at her side. “Hello. Do you need something?”

“Just saying hi.”

She quickened for the classroom, Annette practically running after her.

“Where did you get all those?”

“The library,” dropping them on her desk she rolled her shoulder.

“Tomas let you take them?”

She looked back at her worried. “We’re not allowed to take books out of the library?”

“Uh,” she looked a little worried herself, “it’s probably fine for teachers to.” As Byleth turned back to the books she stepped closer. “So… have you put any thought into who you’ll give your garland to? It’s part of the tradition.”

“Oh,” she started sorting the books, “no then.”

“You should give it to someone you appreciate.”

She turned to her, a book still in hand. “Should I give it to you?”

“No,” she laughed, “I wasn’t hinting around.” Her smiled turned nervous. “I’m sure you’ll think of someone.”

She watched her walk away before her gaze drifted to the side.

The sun hung high over the training grounds. Dimitri sat at one side sharpening his spear, at the other stood his childhood friends.

“Put that up,” Sylvain pointed his training sword at Felix’s real one. “We’re supposed to be practicing.”

“Then practice not dying.”

Ingrid sighed before tossing a wooden sword to Felix. “You two quit fooling around.”

Catching it he held it up. “How is this not fooling around?”

They continued to argue as Byleth stepped onto the stone courtyard, her gaze immediately finding Dimitri. Her chest tightened, her grip tightening around the garland. Why was she so nervous about this? Taking a deep breath she crossed the grounds.

Finally conceding, Felix held out the practice blade.

Sylvain took his stance. Seeing Byleth with the garland he froze, missing his block and getting jabbed in the chest. “Let’s take a break,” he rubbed his chest as he passed Felix, grabbing his arm to drag him along.

“But we just started!”

“What are you up to?” Ingrid followed.

Dimitri stood as Byleth approached. He smiled when he saw her, it falling when he saw the flower crown.

She held it up to him.

His face reddened. “Uh…”

Heartbeat quickening, she looked worried.

“I-I’m flattered,” he cleared his throat, “it’s just that we haven’t known each other long…”

She looked half anxious, half confused. She lowered the garland. “Are they not just gifts you give to friends?”

He looked a bit flustered. “Typically women give them to potential suitors.”

After the surprise washed over she glared back at where Sylvain had ran. “They left that part out.”

“They?”

“Sylvain and Annette.”

His shoulders relaxed. But at seeing Byleth so upset he felt bad for her, even a twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to react so badly, I was just surprised.”

She looked uncomfortable.

“Why did you want me to have it?”

Looking down, her hair half covered her face. She looked sadly at the floor. “I just… wanted to thank you, you’ve really helped me with this job and with adjusting to my new life; not just by helping me find my way around, you’ve helped me feel like I can belong. And I… hoped we could be friends.”

“In that case, I’ll gladly accept your crown.”

She risked glancing up at him.

He smiled at her. “And your friendship.”

She gave a small sad smile back.

He bowed his head to let her place the wreath upon it.

As he straightened she stifled the grin that tried to surface at how cute he looked in the garland.

“I feel like I should give you something.”

“Don’t worry, you have.”

“Aww,” Annette peeked around the corner. She stepped back where the rest of the Blue Lions stood.

“Nice one,” said Sylvain, “though following her isn’t really what I meant.”

She shot a glare back. “You couldn’t tell me what you meant.”

Felix looked disgusted at them. “What is wrong with you?”

Ingrid frowned. “I’ll say. Tricking our professor?”

“And his highness,” Dedue added.

“Though I don’t condone tricks,” Mercedes said before smiling, “it looks like it all worked out in the end.”

Ashe looked uncomfortable. “Can we train now?”

“You can all come out now,” Byleth called, leaving them all surprised.

Sylvain started to run but Ingrid grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the grounds.

The rest followed, standing in a row before their teacher.

Dimitri practically smirked from behind Byleth.

She looked a little nervous as she held out a hand.

Eyes went wide and mouths fell open.

“I made one for all of you.”

#dimileth #fire emblem three houses #dimitri blaiddyd #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth #byleth eisner #fire emblem #fanfiction #fluff #one shot #writing #my writing

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inahazzze · 5 years

Text

Wayfaring Stranger

⭐ Please enjoy this fluffy meet cute one shot featuring AU poet dad!Harry and a bisexual singer OFC! It’s roughly 7.7k words. ⭐

***A/N: I’ve been working on this for a while and I’m really proud of it so I would super appreciate any likes/reblogs/asks/feedback about it!! Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think :) x ***

Sav’s eyes are mostly shut against the blinding sun when she slows to a stop to catch a breath with her hands on her knees. After 45 straight minutes of running, the sound of her own heartbeat has started to compete with the electronic rock pumping through her headphones. She makes sure that she’s out of anyone’s way on the sidewalk and leans against a boarded in shop front to relieve her aching legs. She drinks deeply from her water bottle and holds one finger against her wrist in concentration. After a minute, she starts counting under her breath so that she doesn’t keep losing track of what she’s up to. Sav can usually complete this routine on autopilot, but this morning she can’t stop thinking about the text she received from Erin about two hours ago. Which is saying something that it’s taking up all her brainpower, as she hasn’t even read the text yet. She could only see the first line, which was enough to lead her brain to comprise every possible follow up to I’ve been thinking about sending this text for days. Sav wasn’t even meant to go for a run this morning, but it seemed like a better idea than walking circles around her apartment until she had to leave for the afternoon shift at work. Who texts their ex at 8am on a Friday morning?

It’s already been two hours since the text came in, so Sav decides to get it over with and finally read it before she chickens out. She pulls her phone out from her bra, cleans the screen against her leggings, and reluctantly opens the message.

I’ve been thinking about sending this text for days. I’m sorry for what I did. And for everything I said. I miss you.

It feels like her heart has been ripped out again. Right when she feels like she’s finally starting to move on and heal, Erin has to go and do this. All she can do is stare at the screen and try not to cry. Erin was the one who broke up with her two months ago and now she thinks she can just text and Sav will come running?

It’s at this point that Sav realises that there’s a man sitting only about a metre away, watching her with a slightly concerned expression. He’s wearing a grey newsboy cap and a striped white button up that’s undone to the length of a hanging cross necklace. Countless tattoos peek out from his pushed-up sleeves and his hands are adorned with large silver rings that reflect the sunlight. The man is leaning back against his chair, one hand around his phone and the other wrapped around a steaming cup of black coffee. Sav hadn’t even realised that she’d stopped next to a bustling cafe.

“Can I help you?” She asks him, only realising that she sounds a bit aggressive after she’s spoken. She hadn’t even registered that he was there, so she’s just a bit taken aback to notice that someone had been watching her.

When he smiles at her, it’s genuine and kind. “Are you alright?” He asks.

Sav immediately feels bad that she snapped at him and took her frustration about Erin out on this stranger.

“Yeah, um. Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

“Don’t sound too convinced, if ‘m honest,” he says.

Sav doesn’t know what to say back, so she just looks back down at her phone as if it will give her any answers on what to do. She’s thinking about what to respond to Erin when she hears the man speak again.

“Are you Aussie?”

“Um… yeah. Why?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I get it, I’m just a random guy on the street.”

“No, it’s all good. I’m just… I’m having a shit morning,” she says.

“I only ask ‘cause my daughter’s Aussie. Well, technically.”

“Oh,” Sav says with eyebrows raised. She didn’t think he looked old enough to have any children. “What do you mean technically?”

“Her mum’s Aussie. And she lives with her mum, so she’s been picking up all sorts of things from her.” Sav doesn’t miss that he casually slips in a comment about his daughter’s mother living separately to him. “She’s only visited Australia twice, but already fancies herself a real Aussie Sheila,” he says, badly mimicking a Crocodile Dundee sounding accent for the slang term.

Sav laughs and loosens up a bit, feeling slightly better about talking to this stranger. He’s nice, and their casual friendly chat is taking her mind off of Erin – even if only just a little. He seems harmless, and isn’t asking her anything inappropriate or invasive like men on the street usually do when they try to talk to her.

“I’m sure your daughter is a real Sheila if she sounds like… that.”

“Hey!” he says, drawing out the word. “Are you saying that my incredible impression of a very standard Australian accent isn’t a realistic one?”

“No, you’re right, it’s absolutely perfect.”

“That it is,” he says, clearly trying to keep a straight face. The subtle beginnings of dimples begin to peek out the sides of his mouth from under his blushing cheeks. You smile lightly and let your tense shoulders relax a little more.

“Um… do you wanna talk about it?” He asks after a moment in a slow drawl.

Sav hesitates a moment, unsure of whether she should open up to this virtual stranger. It usually takes her a while to trust people but for some reason she finds herself answering him honestly. Gesturing at her phone, Sav releases an unnecessarily dramatic shrug. “It’s just my ex, s’all.”

“Ah,” he nods in understanding. “Recent break-up?”

“Yeah, but I’m okay,” Sav says, unsure if she’s trying to convince him or herself. He waits patiently as she gathers her thoughts. “Been a few months. This morning she texted me out of nowhere.”

“Tough one, that,” he says with sincerity. Sav’s relieved that he didn’t make a comment or seem to react in any way to the she pronoun that she let slip. London’s a progressive city, but she always tries to be careful just in case. Sometimes people make a big deal about it and start to ask invasive questions, and other times people will very clearly show their surprise or disgust or arousal. The fact that he didn’t do any of those things makes her immediately more comfortable around him.

Sav is shocked out of her thoughts when a nearby bus honks at a passing car. She meets his eyes dead on, and notices how light they are. In overcast London, most people’s eyes look a standard brown until you really look. Today is sunny enough to show off how his are tinted a mossy green, like a dull blade of grass after a really hot day. She finds herself wondering how the colour changes based on the light. She wants to see him again solely to know if the green in his eyes will become brighter, or softer, or bluer.

“Did you want a coffee?” He asks, and she notices how smooth and soothing his northern accent is.

“Oh, I…” Sav looks down at her watch to see if she even has time before work to sit and have a coffee with him. She hadn’t realised how long she’d been running and it’s later than she meant to be out for. She’s considering saying yes, even if she’ll be forced to rush into work a bit late. He’s nice, cute and funny, and maybe this is exactly what Sav needs. But on the other hand, he is a complete stranger that she met on the street. He seems completely harmless and even told her about his daughter, but she can’t help but feel weird because she doesn’t know him. They’ve only had a short conversation, after all. And to top it all off, Sav is now more confused than ever since Erin’s text this morning, so she just wants to be alone to process and think. On a better day, she might have agreed.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, by the way,” he cuts in to her thoughts.

“I do, I just really ought to be getting home,” she says with her best attempt at a genuine smile. She tries to convey her thoughts to him but he breaks their eye contact.

“No worries, have a wonderful day, then,” he says with a finality that Sav doesn’t like. His voice isn’t cold, but it’s definitely more distant and polite than a minute before.

“You too,” Sav says as she starts to walk away.

“Wait,” she hears and spins around. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, right. It’s Sav.” She hadn’t even realised that they hadn’t introduced themselves.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Sav. I’m Harry.” His warm smile returns for the briefest moment.

“Have a good one, Harry.”

Even though a part of her regrets rejecting his offer of coffee, Sav leaves feeling like her Friday morning has already drastically improved.

TWO WEEKS LATER

The Thursday afternoon set at the Barwon Lounge Club is never the most exciting one, but Sav still feels grateful that there are a handful of people here to listen to her music. She often prefers days like this to the busier weekend shows, even though she doesn’t get as many tips, because at least some people listen to her when it’s not so busy. It’s not that she blames people for talking over her - they came here to eat, drink and have music in the background. They didn’t come here specifically to see her. She accepted that a long time ago and considers it a part of the job. At least she can still do what she loves, unlike her bartending job where she pours beer for grumpy old men for hours.

It’s just Sav and her guitar on the tiny stage in the corner of the dining room, playing to a large open space filled with tables and couches. She plays Thursdays to Sundays, doing an alternating set of all the slow, low-key songs she knows. Her boss likes to remind her regularly how it’s most important that she blend into the background. She’s not there to entertain, but to fill silence.

She’s almost halfway through her standard set when she’s pulled out of her trance. Her eyes go wide in surprise when she sees Harry enter from across the room. Harry, who she’d met almost two weeks ago and has thought about countless times since. She doesn’t normally talk to strangers on the street and she definitely doesn’t usually think about them after their interaction. There was just something about him - he stuck in her head like a catchy song on the radio.

She’s frozen in place, forgetting to immediately transition to the next song. A few people eating lunch look over towards her, because nothing is as noticeable as absolute silence. When Harry meets Sav’s eyes, he breaks out into a wide smile. He’s wearing loose blue jeans and a black t-shirt, with his hair held back in the same newsboy cap she’d seen him wear on the day they met. He moves closer towards the stage to find a table to sit at, and once he’s closer Sav can see that he’s not alone. He’s holding the hand of a young girl, maybe four or five years old, with beautiful dark olive skin and rich chocolate curls atop her head. She’s hiding behind a chair that’s taller than her and looking up at her father with a furrowed brow, communicating something to him. He sighs and smiles at her, bending down on his knees to speak softly to her face-to-face. Sav can’t hear what he’s saying but notices the child nodding her head before pushing her curls into her father’s chest. Harry wraps his arms tightly around his daughter and peppers her with multiple quick kisses to her cheek.

At this point, Sav’s boss peeks his head around the corner and raises his eyebrows at her. She knows that he’ll tell her off if she doesn’t restart soon, so she gathers herself with a deep breath and tries not to think about Harry now being here. She clears her throat and spontaneously decides to play a song that she wasn’t planning on doing today. Eva Cassidy’s Wayfaring Stranger is one of her favourites, plus it’s one of her most polished songs vocally. It wasn’t necessarily for Harry, but it was a little bit because of him. When she sang the song in a set last week, she was thinking about him as her wayfaring stranger, who she’d probably never see again. In a city as big as London, it didn’t seem all that likely. The lyrics of the song aren’t at all reminiscent of their first run-in a few weeks ago, but for some reason the song is now connected to him. It was a passing thought that has been growing in her mind like a vine since.

As she gets into the song, Sav closes her eyes and forgets she has an audience. That often happens when she sings her favourite songs; the ones she knows like the back of her hand and doesn’t need to think about while singing them. It takes her somewhere that she can’t explain, and the music flows through her as if it’s yearning to be heard of its own accord. When she sings, she goes to a place that she can’t get to while doing anything else. It’s a place somewhere outside of herself – somewhere peaceful and powerful all at the same time. When she sings, she feels free and like the truest version of herself.

As the song comes to a close, she slowly opens her eyes to a smattering of applause that brings her back into the real world. The most enthusiastic applause is coming from Harry and his daughter, which makes her smile. It’s the most applause she’s gotten by far today, and it makes all the difference in the world. Sav’s boss peeks his head back into her view and holds up one outstretched hand at her to signal that she has a 5 minute-break now. She usually gets one roughly halfway through her set so that she can go to the bathroom, or get some fresh air. Sav nods at her boss as she places her guitar into its stand and reaches for her water bottle with the other hand.

Glancing back up, she notices that Harry’s staring at her with a focused intensity. Even as his daughter bounces up and down in her seat and tugs at his sleeve, he’s watching Sav with a look she didn’t see when they first met. The look is strangely intimate and vulnerable, and she feels like in this moment he can see straight through her. See everything that she is, has been, and wants to be. She doesn’t know what look she’s giving back to him, but she knows that she certainly wouldn’t say no if he asked her to have coffee with him again.

Harry gets up from his seat and holds his daughter’s hand securely as he helps her jump out of the chair like it’s a game. They start walking towards Sav, leaving their things at the table because it’s that kind of venue.

“That was amazing!” The young girl says enthusiastically, drawing out the word amazing for as long as she can hold her breath.

Sav smiles widely at the bouncing child. “Thank you very much young lady. What’s your name?”

She pokes Harry’s leg incessantly. “Daddy, she sounds like Mummy.”

“That’s right, sweets. She’s Australian too,” he says to her in a gentle voice.

“Ooh!” She says while jumping up and down. “What’s your favourite animal?”

Sav giggles a little and Harry emits something in between a sigh and a laugh. “Love, the nice woman asked you what your name is, will you tell her?”

“I’m Asha,” she sounds out proudly.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Asha, I’m Sav. And my favourite animal is definitely dogs.”

Harry shows off his dimples when she responds to his daughter with ease. She clearly knows how to speak to children without talking down to them, and this fact warms Harry’s heart even more than her singing did.

“I love dogs.” Asha beams. “My favourite animals are elephants.” She says the word like ewephants, and Sav has to restrain herself from vocalising how cute the gorgeous girl in front of her is.

“I bet they’re like this big,” Asha continues, stretching her arms to her sides as far as they’ll go and throwing her head back.

Harry and Sav chuckle and share a quick look of adoration for the child.

“Would you believe that they’re even bigger than that!” He says to her, eliciting a gasp.

“Even bigger than-“ She nudges Harry’s arms up until he plays along and stretches his arms out to his sides too. “-That?” He nods seriously and she drops her jaw open in dramatic shock. They all giggle, and Sav is reminded of why she loves children.

“By the way, Asha’s right.” Harry says after a moment. “That was really incredible, Sav.”

“You remember my name,” she reflexively voices her first thought.

“Course I do,” he says with a furrowed brow. She likes how he displays his emotions clearly on his face. “Couldn’t forget you,” he says a little softer.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” Asha says with a masterful pout.

“I’m gonna go order now for you, sweets. Chicken fingers?” He asks her with raised eyebrows, clearly unsurprised by the animated response he gets from his daughter.

“I need to go finish my set anyway,” Sav tells him, shifting a bit to pick up her guitar.

“I’ll see you again after, yeah?” He says. She nods, and he takes Asha back to their table.

For the rest of her set, Sav has to force herself to not keep staring at Harry. He’s also trying to avoid looking over at her too much, but is grateful that he can always hear her voice even if he can’t watch her. He cuts up his daughter’s food and asks her about this morning’s lessons at school, but has one ear trained on Sav’s music all the while. He’s entranced by her voice, even just her presence, and wants to take up this opportunity to make sure that he gets to see her again.

At the end of her set, she slowly packs up her things and thinks about whether she should go over to speak to Harry again or see if he comes to her. Luckily, he waves her over before she loses her nerve and heads home.

“Again, that was amazing,” he says as soon as she walks up. He stands and takes a step away from the table, where Asha is engrossed in colouring an ocean landscape with crayons.

“Thanks,” she says, not knowing what else to say.

“Did you- um. Did you want to grab coffee?” Harry asks.

“Now?”

“No, uh. I’ve got Asha today, so it’ll have to be another time. What are you doing tomorrow? Oh wait- you didn’t even say yes yet, did you-”

“I’d love to get coffee with you, Harry,” Sav cuts into his anxious rambling with a smile. “I’ve got another set here tomorrow though, then I bartend afterwards, so I can’t in the day.” His face begins to drop until she quickly clarifies what she was insinuating. “But I’m not working the night shift.”

She’s rewarded with the brightest smile he’s shown her yet. “Can I- I know we don’t really know each other, but I’d love for that to change. Can I make you dinner?”

A smile creeps on to Sav’s face. “It’s a date.”

Harry heaves an audible sigh of relief and puts his hands into his pockets. “It’s supposed to be a nice evening tomorrow night, so how do you feel about a picnic in the park?” He looks down and blushes. “I’d really like to cook for you.”

“That sounds really lovely,” She replies softly, silently relieved that he doesn’t want to take her to a fancy restaurant. She never feels like she belongs in really upscale places and always manages to embarrass herself somehow.

“It’s a date,” he repeats her phrasing with a broad grin. She can’t believe this is happening. She’s not just going on a date – she’s going on one with a man she’s been thinking about for weeks but thought she’d never see again.

They agree to meet at a park nearby at 6pm the next evening, and Harry gives her his phone number in case she’s running late from work or has any issues finding him. He then needs to take Asha home for a nap, so he gives her one last bright smile before saying goodbye and leaving.

Sav makes her way to the bathroom to hide from her boss and jumps up and down with giddy, childlike joy at what just happened. She’s going on a date with a cute boy and she couldn’t be happier. She knows that there’s no guarantee for how it will go, but something inside of her says that it will go well. She just has a good feeling about it. And about him.

She sits down on the closed toilet seat, thinking about how long it’s been since she’s been on a date. That’s when she remembers that she never responded to Erin’s text from two weeks ago. She kept putting it off but never knew what to say, so she just said nothing.

Sav takes out her phone and decides that seeing Harry again was a sign. She texts Erin one last time, and it feels so good.

I’m moving on, Erin. And so should you.

There’s a larger audience for Sav’s set the next day, but it feels like something’s missing without Harry in the audience. After she saw him again yesterday, he became all she could think about. She felt a bit silly about it as she’d only met him twice, but truthfully she was just relieved that she was no longer thinking about Erin. She replayed all their interactions, thought about his smile and his kind eyes, and how he looked at her when he watched her sing. She thought about his gorgeous daughter and how he looked like such a good dad even though he must’ve had her at a fairly young age. She thought about how he remembered her name and said that he could never forget her, and how excited he looked when she agreed to go out with him.

It’s lucky that Sav knows the music of her set so well, because she’s so distracted thinking about the date that she’s mostly running on autopilot. Her brain is so jam-packed with thoughts about tonight’s date that she almost misses Harry in the back of the room, watching her set.

“How long have you been here?” She asks when she’s finished and able to approach him.

“Not that long. Didn’t know when you started so I thought I’d try a bit earlier than I was here yesterday.”

She’s absolutely dumbfounded that he’s standing before her. “You came back.”

“I did.” He’s blushing a little. “I wanted to hear you sing again.”

“Oh,” she lets out in a heavy breath. “That’s… no one’s ever done something like that before.”

“Really?” She thinks he might be sarcastic at first, but he’s genuinely surprised. “Your voice is… it blew me away. Plus, I like you,” he says, his cheeks reddening even more.

He’s laying it on thick and Sav doesn’t know how to react. No one has ever been this forthcoming and complimentary to her before. She opens her mouth to respond but can’t think of a single thing to say.

“I hope this is okay- me coming back. It’s only just occurring to me that it might look a little creepy,” he says, holding his bottom lip between his forefinger and thumb.

“No, it’s not creepy,” she says quickly to ease his mind. Her mind is still spinning that he just said plus, I like you. He added it on so casually. “Um. Tonight- do you still want to…?”

“Yeah, course I still want to go out with you tonight, that very much has not changed – uh, has it for you?” A dash of panic flickers over his previously confident expression.

“I still want to,” she assures him.

“Plus, I realised that I forgot to ask you – do you have any allergies or food preferences?” He says, slightly startled when Sav laughs at him instead of responding.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, that’s just – you’re really thoughtful. It’s a good laugh, I promise.” He smiles sheepishly, and the expression shows off just how much his daughter looks like him. “I’m vegetarian, actually. Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s great, I’m glad I checked!” His enthusiasm also mirrors his daughter’s, even though he’s obviously a fully-grown man. “Alright then!” He claps his hands a little too loudly, and a few patrons look at them. Sav pretends that she doesn’t see her boss watching them from behind the bar.

“I should really be getting back to work.” She says, unsure of how to say goodbye when they’re meeting again in a few hours.

“Course, just – should I pick you up? Want to be a perfect gentleman,” he says with a cheeky smirk and a comical gesture as if he’s tipping his hat at her. “But we can meet there if you’d rather.”

Sav blinks up at him in disbelief. He’s really thought of everything, and impressed her more than she thought a man could at this point in her life, and the date hasn’t even started yet.

“Meeting there is good,” she manages to say. “Six still fine?” That gives her enough time to get ready after work and still enjoy a few good hours of sunlight with Harry in the park. She’s more excited than she’s been for something in a long time, and her ex is out of her mind completely for the first time since their split. It couldn’t be better.

“Perfect.”

Even though Sav had thought about it all day, she hadn’t managed to decide on what to wear to the date by the time she got back to her apartment. She didn’t have time to dawdle, but still managed to try on eight outfits before settling on skinny jeans and a flowery blouse. She wanted to strike a delicate balance between casual and dressed up to look good on her first date in a while. Even though Harry’s already seen her today, Sav feels pressure to leave a positive first impression tonight.

She doesn’t live too far from the park they’d arranged to meet at, so she decides to walk the half hour to ease her nerves. Fingers dancing in her pockets to let out some anxious energy, her mind fills with every possible scenario of how the date might go. She’s excited but worried that she’ll somehow ruin it or do something to scare Harry away. It’s a good thing she arrives when she does, because her worries start to spiral and lead her to the assumption that the date’s going to go wrong for one reason or another. She enters the park a few minutes early to find Harry standing next to a small fountain in the centre of the green. He’s doing something on his phone but puts it away as soon as he sees her.

“You look beautiful,” He says with a genuine smile once she’s within hearing distance. She mumbles a thank you and stumbles over her words until she tells him that he looks nice as well. She has a feeling that he’d look nice no matter what he wore, but finds him particularly attractive tonight. He’s changed his outfit from earlier today too, and is now wearing tight-fitted black trousers with a slightly unbuttoned silken white blouse. The shirt is a bit see-through, so she can tell that he’s inked much more than she thought. She hadn’t previously noticed what look like two birds on his chest, and all she wants to do is brush his silken shirt aside so that she can properly admire them. A small tuft of chest hair peeks out at her from between a few parted buttons, and she has to tear her mind away from thinking too much about what he’d look like without any buttons done up.

“Great, shall we find somewhere to sit then?” He asks, reaching down to pick up a picnic basket and blanket that Sav hadn’t noticed. As he leans down, she’s suddenly extremely grateful to whoever perfectly tailored his trousers. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, and desperately wills her mind and body to behave.

“Over by that tree looks nice, don’t you think?” He suggests and begins to lead them through the park. He sets up the blanket in an unoccupied shaded area and offers her the first choice of seating.

“I cut up some fruit and made some vegetarian quiche for us,” he says. “Hope that’s alright.”

She raises her eyebrows, already impressed by the effort he’s put into their evening. “Quiche? Damn, sounds fancy.”

“What, have you never had it before?” He’s clearly shocked.

“Should I have?”

“Well I guess there’s a first time for everything,” bringing out the smirk she’d seen glimpses of before. Harry serves her a piece of quiche on a plastic plate and leaves a small platter of fruit in between for them to pick at. She takes a bite, only a little self-conscious that he’s watching her intently.

“So?”

“It’s… terrible. Inedible. I think I’m getting food poisoning, actually.”

His face drops for only the slightest moment before he rolls his eyes and bites his bottom lip with a smile. He tries to act annoyed but Sav can tell that he’s trying not to laugh. “Very funny.”

“I think you might have to take me to the hospital, now that I think of it.” Sav presses both arms across her stomach in a dramatic gesture and almost loses her composure in the process.

“Oh, stop it,” he laughs, trying to swat at her folded arms as she pulls away giggling.

When their laugher dies down, she takes another bite of the quiche and reassures him. “Being serious, though? It’s delicious. Thank you for making it, it’s really sweet of you.”

Harry looks down at his lap and blushes, clearly pleased that his effort has paid off with both banter and a genuine compliment. As they eat, Sav asks Harry about Asha and mentions how sweet and well mannered she was yesterday. He brightens up immediately at the sound of her name and Sav feels her heart flutter in her chest. He tells her about how his daughter is joyous, funny, loveable, cheeky and thoughtful.

He tells her a story about one time that Asha broke out into Man, I Feel Like A Woman at the top of her lungs in a supermarket even though she didn’t know any words beside the title line. This somehow morphs into Harry telling her another story about how Asha believed she could speak Italian by merely putting on an imitation of the accent when they travelled to Italy for a holiday last summer.

“Sounds like you already have plenty of material to embarrass her with when she’s older,” Sav says, grinning ear to ear.

“Gotta collect ‘em early, I hear,” he says. “To blackmail her as a teenager.” They both devolve into a fit of giggles and exchange blushing smiles back at the other. A few moments of comfortable silence pass with mouths full of watermelon and berries before Harry speaks with a completely different tone of voice.

“You know…” He’s a little hesitant and takes his time. “Sometimes I think that Asha’s the one true love of my life.” Sav just about melts.

Before long, their natural rapport eases her completely into Harry’s company. She unconsciously leans against the scratchy picnic blanket with one wrist and gives Harry her full, undivided attention. He asks her about how she started working at the Barwon Lounge Club, and compliments her again on her voice and guitar skills. She doesn’t know how to react to the repeated compliment and instead changes the subject to ask how he found himself in her workplace with his daughter on a weekday afternoon.

“So, were you stalking me or something?” Sav playfully asks, trying her hand at initiating some light flirtation.

He laughs but answers seriously. “Just a happy accident, m’afraid.”

“Happy indeed,” Sav says, looking down at her empty plate. She thinks about how this is going so much better than she’d even let herself hope.

“She’s usually in reception at that time on a Thursday, but I had to take her for a dentist appointment next door. And then she was suddenly hungry, and I wanted to hear where the beautiful voice was coming from.”

She wants to tell him off again for his sneaky compliment but lets it slide because she’s secretly enjoying it. Then she realises that he’d mentioned a word she’s unfamiliar with. “Sorry, what’s reception?”

“Oh, it’s like kindergarten, or kindy I think it’s called in Australia, right?”

“Course, I should’a guessed that.” She says. “Yeah, it’s kindy. We basically call everything a shortened nickname of the actual word.”

“Yeah, I’ve certainly noticed that. Asha likes to pick up some of them that her mum says, like ‘footy’ instead of football, and she’s started asking for a ‘biccy’ when she wants a biscuit.”

Sav laughs. “Now that’s someone who speaks my language.”

“It’s pretty cute, I’ll admit,” he says with a grin.

“I’ve been in London long enough that I should really know all the lingo by now, but I keep finding that I obviously know nothing.”

“How long’ve you been here?” He asks.

“Two years. Was living in Scotland for a few years before that, though.”

He whistles in response as if he’s impressed. “I love a worldly woman,” he says, and somehow makes it sound sweet instead of weird or creepy.

They spend the next hour talking about the places they’ve lived and travelled, and all of the places that they want to go to next. Sav tells Harry about how she hiked through Spain and stayed in strangers’ homes each night before continuing on. Harry tells her about the time that he got drunk in France and woke up in Belgium. They talk about how much they both love Japan and how they’d both love to do a coast-to-coast road trip of the US. They each manage to eat two pieces of quiche and a sizable amount of fruit while they chat. He’s so enamoured by her presence that he almost misses her pre-emptively, even though the date hasn’t ended.

“Wait,” Sav says suddenly. “I don’t even know what you do, how have I not asked you that yet?”

“Oh, well, I’m a writer.”

“What kind?” She’s not surprised – he seems like the type.

“I write poetry,” he says with a blush. “’And I teach at a college a few days a week.” Sav is about to respond when he continues. “’Ve got a few poetry collections out.”

“Harry!” She says, lightly hitting the side of his arm. “That’s amazing!” His cheeks redden even more but she can tell that he’s pleased by her reaction. “Would you… could you read some of your poems to me?”

He thinks on this request for a moment before coming up with an idea. “I will if you’ll sing to me again.”

“What? Now?” She’s sure it’s a joke, but he looks deadly serious.

“One sec, I’ll be right back.” Harry pushes himself up hurriedly, running back towards the street and leaving Sav confused and unsure of what to do or think. What’s he up to?

A few minutes later, he comes back in sight with a large case slung over his shoulder. He sits down and opens it to remove an old wooden acoustic guitar. There are a few handwritten notes and stickers along the body, including a haphazardly stuck-on rainbow and the words Black Lives Matter.

“Where did that come from?” Sav asks, taken aback. He only smirks at her, placing the guitar in his lap and making sure it’s in tune.

“Would it make you feel better if I sang with you?”

“You can sing?”

“I… yeah.”

Sav agrees only because she wants to hear what his voice sounds like. “You’ve got a deal.” She reaches out for his hand to shake on it, mostly as an excuse to touch him. He’s very warm to the touch, and his skin is soft as butter. Only his fingertips are rough against her skin, and their hands feel instantly comfortable and right together.

He clears his throat and regretfully draws his hand away from hers and instead towards the resting guitar. “Can we do a Fleetwood Mac song?” He asks, already knowing that she’s familiar as he’d heard her play three of their songs during her set at work. He thinks on it for a moment and she waits patiently. “Do you know the lyrics to Gold Dust Woman?”

“Course I do,” she says. “Who do you think I am?” He chuckles and holds his hands up in front of him as if to plead his innocence. She takes a sip from her water bottle and is suddenly nervous. It was one thing when she was doing her job and on a stage – it was only a small stage, but still. This is intimate and personal.

Harry begins to play, and Sav quickly looks around them to check that there’s no one too close by. There are two or three lingering passers-by who may be able to hear but none of them seem to care about Harry’s playing. One has headphones in and the other two are distracted on their phones. It’s nerve-wracking to unexpectedly sing in a public park, on a first date no less, but Sav also finds it kind of exhilarating.

She misses her initial cue because she’s so nervous, so Harry loops the intro chords until she’s ready. Closing her eyes, she focuses on the pleasantly hypnotising lyrics and music. Harry lets her get comfortable in the song and joins for the harmony in the chorus. And Sav isn’t ready.

His voice is like soft leather, or dark chocolate melting on your tongue. It’s like the feeling of someone’s hands playing with your hair, right at the moment when it sends tingles down your spine. It’s like dripping silver, or a feather on skin, or a fresh breath of wintry air after a long summer.

She stutters to a stop in shock but he continues, and she’s grateful because all she wants to do is listen to him endlessly. She can see his hesitation and his reddened ears, so she jumps back into the song as soon as she can gather herself together. She leaves him to tackle the second verse alone as she sung the first, and she’s entranced by how beautiful it is. She’s truly enamoured with his voice and this date and… him.

When they finish, they share a long look before Sav suddenly speaks. “Um, excuse me?”

“What?” He’s surprised by her slightly aggressive tone after what just happened.

“You were complimenting my voice when you can sing like that?”

“Well thanks, but I’m nowhere near as good as you-“

“You’re delusional then.” She puts on an exaggerated pout. “You’re next-level good. I bet you’re one of those people that’s just naturally great at everything.” She picks up her water bottle again and hides behind it by taking a long sip.

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head. “I’m not good at asking you out for another date.” Sav almost chokes on the water. “I’ve been meaning to for a little while and haven’t had the guts.”

She’s now fighting a huge smile, not wanting to give away just how much she wants to squeal in delight at the shameless flirting.

“Smooth,” she says, trying to play it as cool as she can. “But you haven’t held up your part of the bargain yet.” He scrunches up his eyebrows before remembering that he agreed to read some of his poetry in exchange for the song.

“I better get to it then,” he says with a smirk and rummages through his backpack. He pulls out a very worn brown leather notebook, held closed by two long strings that have been wrapped loosely around the book and tucked into itself. It’s covered in what Sav assumes is his own doodling and graffiti – it doesn’t look like the kind drawn by a young child Asha’s age. The words one and only are scribbled carelessly along most of the spine.

Harry takes a minute to decide which poem to share with Sav. He eventually decides on one and she curls her knees into her body, getting comfortable to give Harry her full attention as he reads. He takes a deep breath and slips right back into the gossamer tone of his singing voice to read his poetry.

“This one’s called Woman,” he mumbles, and then begins.

I’m selfish, I know. but I don’t ever want to see

you with him.

I’m selfish, I know. I told you but I know

you’ll never listen.

I hope you can see the shape that I’m in, while he’s touching

your skin.

he’s right where I should- (where I should be)

but you’re making me bleed. woman

I’m tempted, you know. apologies

are never going to fix this.

I’m empty, I know.

promises are broken like the stitches

I hope you can see the shape I’ve been in. while he’s touching

your skin

this thing upon me, it howls

like a beast.

you flower you feast. woman

When he finishes, something new and palpable hangs between them. It’s not that anything has changed – but an unspoken bond settles into place between them. They’ve shared parts of each other that are unreachable through mere conversation and rarely exchanged on a first date. Either could comfortably say that it’s the best first date they’ve ever had, and possibly would ever have.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Sav whispers. It seems appropriate to only whisper after that. She looks into his light green eyes, trying to convey to him how his poem made her feel. How she can’t quite put it into words but she can put it into feelings. He stares back at her just as intensely, sensing her warmth and gratitude and understanding.

“So would you like to go on a second date with me, then?” Harry says, resting his palm on the picnic blanket close to her knee. He leans his body forward and she unconsciously mirrors him.

“I’d like that,” Sav breathes out. She’s staring at his lips, and wondering how they’re naturally almost the colour of raspberries. She’s slowly leaning towards him with quickening breath, unable to stop the magnetising pull of her body to his. He’s leaning into her too, and moves his hand even closer until he brushes her knee with the back of his thumb. Her whole body erupts in tingles at the unexpected touch – and she’s certain that her goosebumps are visible – but she doesn’t dare look away from him. Harry licks his lips under her gaze and they’re left parted and slightly glistening. She’s now close enough to see every line, pore, and stubble hair on his face, and she wishes she could study him from this distance for hours. Maybe she’ll get to one day, but for now, there’s only one thing on her mind.

The moment their mouths meet, they seem to melt into each other entirely. She’s immediately overwhelmed with how he tastes sweet like watermelon along with something musky and deep that she can’t describe. He can’t believe how soft she feels against his lips, like he’s brushing up against pure silk. He moves his hand up to rest against her cheek, and caresses his pinky finger against the sensitive underside of her jawbone. She lets out a light moan at the feeling, widening her lips to allow Harry to deepen the kiss. She feels entirely lost in her senses and the feeling of him everywhere.

Their tongues touch and set both Sav and Harry’s skin alight. They both forget where they are and become utterly lost in one another. He’s dizzy with her scent of jasmine and taste of berries, and wishes he could bottle it up and take it with him everywhere. He’s never felt so worked up from just a kiss, no less a first kiss – not to mention they’re in public. It’s like he can feel every nerve ending screaming out for her.

She’s so desperate to feel him as close as can be that she finds herself cupping his cheeks as well, pressing her mouth into him passionately. It’s definitely too lewd for a public park, but neither of them care anymore. She can feel the hard muscles of his jaw flex under her palms and her back arches a bit at the thought of everywhere she wants him to kiss her. She starts emitting light moans that only he can hear, and she can feel the vibration of a growl wanting to form in the back of his throat.

Eventually, they break apart to come up for air, but still remain almost touching. They’re both breathless and eyeing the other with heavy lids that suggest their arousal. Harry takes in her state and is pleased that she’s just as worked up as him.

He smirks, showing off his dimples. “Can the second date be now?”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x ofc #ofc #writing #my writing #wayfaring stranger #harry styles fic #one direction fic

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kidgetrash · 5 years

Text

Pyrophyte - A Kidge Werewolf/Witch AU - Chapter 2

Look here! It’s the next chapter of Pyrophyte! @piixiefawn and I hope you all enjoy it as much as we have throwing plots around!

Catch up with the Prologue/Chapter 1 here!

or head over to Ao3!

Art by @piixiefawn , of course! Because she’s just amazeballs!

Chapter 2

Earlier that day...

Some said they were blessed, fewer said that they were cursed; born with the long-thought-lost ancient abilities of elemental magic. Matthew and Katie Holt looked normal enough, born to a seemingly unexceptional family in an unexceptional village on the edge of the woods, miles from its nearest neighbour, yet by the time they were barely walking it was apparent normal was a long way from the truth. Now, at twenty-five and nineteen respectively, they were fully grown, each helped their parents with their family trades, but sometimes, like now, they had to get away, into the freedom of the forest where they could talk without fear of being overheard or judged.

‘I don’t remember a time when I couldn’t do it.’ Katie sat crosslegged in the long grass of the small thicket they liked to visit, turning her hand slowly. Power arced around her fingers, small vines reaching towards her like flowers towards the sun until they could coil around her like a friendly pet seeking comfort. ‘It was just always there. I don’t think I would give it up, even if I could.’ She looked up at Matt, staring intently at her hands much as she had been, but his expression wasn’t the calm she felt when using her powers, his was pained, sad. It hurt her heart whenever he looked like this, which was far too often for her liking. ‘But I know you’d change things, if you could.’

‘Change things?’ He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on his arms, the many small lightning bolt scars that marred his skin glinting in the sunlight that broke through the canopy of trees. Each one told a story, one that he would rather forget. ‘I wouldn’t change anything, I’d just get rid of it.’ He sighed.

While her power was beautiful and useful, his was destructive, his ability to call lightning only partially under his control. More often than not it would manifest in reaction to strong emotions, or even while he slept. He couldn’t call clouds, or rain, just lightning, and all the negative implications that went with it. What made it all the more painful was that it hadn’t always been like this.

Matt had once dreamt of travelling the realm, learning all he could about advances in alchemy in a way his parents had always wanted to. Sam’s dream had been shelved, along with his wife’s to seek out exotic herbs and spices, with the arrival of their magical children. Matt had wanted to fulfil their dream, to bring them back all the knowledge they could imagine. He had maps, travel plans, and above it all an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but late in puberty it became apparent that the powers he had always toyed with as a child were slowly becoming stronger, less controlled. Despite his family trying everything to help him, he had lost himself. He lost his lust for life, his excitement of new discoveries, all of his ambitions seemed like far off dreams rather than the close reality they had been, and with it went his self-confidence and joy, replaced instead with fear and anger.

His answer made her both irritated and sad at the same time, but she knew neither yelling or crying would get him to listen, their entire family were logical and responded much better to common sense than extreme emotions. ‘That’s not the answer, Matt, and you know it.’ She ceased her power and shook the vines loose from her fingers, resting her hands in her lap and looking at him sympathetically. ‘You just need better control, better management. I can’t believe there’s nothing we can do. We just have to…’

‘Enough, Pidge.’ He called her by the pet name that only he used as he got to his feet, kicking the ground with his toes, his inability to stay still testament to his frustration. ‘This power is good for nothing, which makes me good for nothing. I’m a danger, I destroy things. It’s only a matter of time before…’

‘You’re not a danger.’ She shook her head. ‘You’re too sweet, too kind to hurt anyone…’

‘Intentionally! But accidentally, you know I can’t control it!’

It seemed to Katie that Matt did this every couple of weeks, generally following an incident. She tried to understand his frustration, his anger and fear, but it was hard. All she could do was talk him through it. ‘There has to be a reason why we were given these powers.’ She repeated the phase she had used with him far too often. ‘We just don’t know what it is yet.’

‘I know what mine is.’ He walked to the nearest tree and leant his shoulder against it with his back to her, his arms crossed. ‘It’s to cause problems, to harm and destroy.’

Katie got to her feet and went to him, resting her hand on his arm with a concerned look. ‘Going over this again and again doesn’t help.’ She said softly as she leant into his line of sight. ‘There’s a real reason, we just need to be patient.’

‘How can I be patient? You know what I can do!’

‘And I know you don’t mean to.’ She argued but Matt pulled away from her. She had never seen him this despairing before, and she had seen him through every moment, every breakdown she had been there, she had helped him, but this time was different. This time he wasn’t listening. His breathing was too erratic, his eyes wide with real fear in them, his body almost vibrating with so much tension it was visible. ‘Matt, let’s just stay calm and…’

‘How? I can’t!’ He took two steps before his legs gave out and he dropped to his knees. He couldn’t think, his mind was clouded, there was only power, and it scared him. It fed off his fear, off his self-doubt, and it grew until his vision was tinged with it, sharp at the centre and darkened at the edges. ‘I can’t control this! I’m dangerous! Mom and Dad…’

‘Mom and Dad understand.’ She approached, prepared to take him in a hug, but found the atmosphere near him electric, his hair beginning to raise at the ends, and she knew she needed to be cautious, not of him but of what she said. ‘You know that’s true. You know we all understand. This is a part of you, this is…’

‘No!’ Matt choked out a sob between erratic breaths, tears brimming on his lashes. ‘How many times does Dad have to fix the roof? How many times does Mom have to repair or replace linens? How many times will you all have to evacuate because a storm comes too close? Because there’s a fire I caused?’

‘We don’t know that fire was your fault.’ She argued, crouching close but still not touching. ‘And you can’t be blamed for the recent storms; they’ve been increasing in the last few months and it’s not you. Dad and I…’

‘It’s not enough, Pidge!’ He screwed his eyes shut and gripped his head in his hands, curling over his own knees to make himself as small as possible. ‘It’s not enough! It’s not enough!’ He repeated.

‘Matt, please, I need you to calm down.’ She reached out her hand, brushing his shoulder lightly, but he jerked away, the air crackling above them ominously.

He crawled away from her, muttering under his breath as he did so, his entire being crying out for him to relax, to let loose, and Katie could now see the tears that streaked his face, how upset this had him. He hadn’t even reacted this badly when he created a small scene at the town’s harvest festival the year before.

‘Look at me, Matt, please, look at me!’ She asked desperately but he kept his face averted, whimpering as he tried to get further away from her. ‘Please!’

Perhaps her voice was too loud, her tone too harsh, too sudden, perhaps it scared him, but whatever it was she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, a shiver running down her spine as her own power realised what was coming.

There was a crack, a sudden jolt, and then for Katie there was nothing but blackness.

#voltron #kidge #pidge #keith #pyrophyte #witch au #werewolf au #piixiefawn #my fave piixiefawn #piixie & kt

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becausewerebatfam · 6 years

Text

Smile

Timothy Drake x Reader as Harley

The Joker died leaving his son Lucifer, Lucy for short, and his Harley to keep his legacy going. Tim thinks you deserve better.

Warning: Abusive relationship, suggestive.

“This way,” Lucy lead you through the dark alleys of Gotham. He was familiar with them unlike you, yet there you were staring at a brick wall with Batman quickly catching up.

“It’s a dead end Lucy-”

“Thanks Honey Bun for the update.” His words were sarcastic but still held a playful tone. “Be a doll and climb up to that balcony for me.” He lowered his stance down and prepared his hands like a pedestal for you to use as a stepping stone.

Looking up at said balcony you saw an unascended fire escape ladder knowing he wanted you to drop that down for him. With a nod of your head, you placed your right foot on his hands. He launched you up as you simultaneously jumped and grabbed onto the balcony railing. You swung up into a handstand then pushed off perfectly landing in an empty space of the balcony free of the tenant's clutter.

“Bravo,” Lucy clapped and hollered as you took a bow.

“Stop right there Joker” Batman appeared from the shadows with a scowl. This was the second break out at Arkham Asylum this month. The first being when you broke the Joker out and now you two returned for the Scarecrow.

"I’m afraid I’m due somewhere else but I leave you in good company. Oh, Angel Cakes...”

You used your body weight to pull down the ladder and swung off landing in front of Batman. “Nice to mee you Mr. Batman. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Batman instantly recognized your voice as not being Harley’s. He now knew he hadn’t chased down the right Joker. “Lucifer,” he narrowed his eyes. Father and son didn’t just look alike but they even shared the same voice. It was impossible to identify them, even for Batman.

“That’s right,” Lucy laughed.

“Batman!” Tim joined his side after having dealt with the other patients that tried escaping during the riot.

Batman grabbed your arm and pushed you into Tim. “Deal with her, I’ll go after him.”

You sighed, “Well boy wonder...what happens now?”

Tim looked at you with bewilderment, “You’re not Harley.”

“I’m not?” you gave an exaggerated gasp followed by laughter. “Then why am I wearing such ridiculous makeup?” The question was rhetorical of course. “Maybe it’s because you all scared the crazy out of her when you decided to kill Mr. J forcing my Lucy to pick up where he left off and making me dress up in these ridiculously uncomfortable small shorts!” You covered your mouth with your hands quickly regretting the outburst. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Lately, you were experiencing some serious mood swings.

It had only been six months but already you could see your Lucy changing. He started off your sweet caring boyfriend. Now he was starting to act just like his father, he even started treating you just like his father had treated his mother. You would have left if it weren’t for Harley who asked you not to give up on him.

“The Joker’s dead?” This was news to him. To everyone’s knowledge, Joker was still running around terrorizing Gotham.

Your eyes widened realizing how angry Lucy would be when he found out you told one of the bat’s wards. “No, I just-” in a panic, you dropped a smoke bomb and escaped. This was your first time ever getting caught and the first time you met Robin but not your last.

+++

“There’s been an escape at Arkham.”

Tim is quick to react when he hears this. “Who escaped?”

“Lucifer” Barbara informed him without thinking. Only moments later did she recall Bruce’s warning. “Tim I need you to-” Barbara was interrupted by the static silence that came from Tim’s com. “Tim!”

It was too late, Tim was gone. He looked all over Gotham for you that night but came up empty. He stayed out until the sun began to rise and he still didn’t find you.

When he returned to the cave Batman was waiting for him. “Tim-”

“I know what you’re going to say.” He wasn’t one to do rebellious things or go against Bruce’s commands unless he had a good reason.

Bruce always trusted his judgment except when it came to you. “Harley isn’t worth your time Tim. She can’t be helped.”

“You don’t know Y/N like I do!” Over the years he had run into you countless times. Every encounter had brought him a little closer to understanding you. The real you was a bubbly, sassy girl and a skilled acrobat. In a lot of ways, you reminded him of Grayson. The difference is that when you left the circus it was to be with someone who changed your life for the worse.

“I know what you’re thinking Tim but she loves him.” Bruce had tried helping Harley get away from Joker but it proved impossible. She was too enamored by him. It was unfortunate that Tim had fallen for you because it could only go badly. “Harley would have left him if she loved you.”

Tim’s hands clenched into fists feeling utterly defeated by his words. “I have to help her...she can still be saved.”

Bruce sighed inwardly, Tim was starting to lose his rationality. “Get some sleep Tim.” It was obvious he had been burning the midnight oil.

He only stopped looking for you a few days to get Bruce off his back. Then he started looking for you whenever he had free time. No one had spotted you or the Joker in weeks. Until now when his goons were caught robbing a jewelry store on their own.

Dick kept a close eye on Tim knowing his desperation to find you. “Tim let’s go, the police will take it from here.” They had tied them all up and recovered everything they had intended to steal.

It should have been case closed but Tim wasn’t done. He began questioning the goons, “Why did you come alone?” They weren’t the brightest bunch.

They looked to each other before the newest of the bunch responded hoping to get some leniency. "Miss Harley ran away yesterday and the boss ordered us to get some gifts so she’ll come back.”

“Shut up you stupid idiot!” one of the others shouted. “The boss will feed you to the hyenas if he finds out about this.”

+++

You got a running start and jumped to reach the high bar. With both hands firmly gripping the bar you swung your legs up and over until your hips were directly on it. You smiled seeing the moon brighter than ever before. Maybe it was because you were free but it seriously looked brighter and instantly increased your mood.

After readjusting the position of your hands you spun forward a few times before letting go, doing a backflip, and landing perfectly a few feet forward with your hands in the air. “And the audience goes wild!” you cheered for yourself remembering the good old days at the circus.

The bittersweet thought brought tears to your eyes. “Thank you, thank you,” you bowed pretending to thank the audience when suddenly you heard real applause. You wiped your tears away before turning to see Tim and turning on the Harley act. “Well if it isn’t my favorite boy wonder.”

There was a tremble in your voice that alerted him. “What are you doing out here Harley?” As he got closer he could see your smudged makeup.

“Can’t a girl just have a little fun every once in a while?”

“Of course,” Tim’s brow furrowed at the sight of the purplish spot that was peeking out from under the makeup on your left cheek. “What’s this?”

You slapped his hand away remembering the hit you had taken from Lucy when he heard you had been spotted outside the hideout while he was locked up in Arkham. Lucy wanted your world to revolve around him. If he wasn’t around you were to stay put and wait for him. “It’s nothing” you giggled trying to play it off. “I should go before he starts sending henchmen to look for me.”

Tim blocked you from leaving and gently wiped the rest of your makeup from your cheek. His worries increased when the rest of the purple bruise was revealed. “This wasn’t here last time I saw you.”

A gentle hand upon your cheek was a pleasant change from the harsh hold Lucy kept on you. Even when he was kissing you, he held your chin harshly to keep you in place until he was satisfied. Tim, on the other hand, was always treating you like a porcelain doll. Perhaps that’s what you were because the smile finally dropped. Just being in his presence broke you out of character. “Last time you saw me Lucifer was locked up.” With the Harley persona gone you allowed yourself to lean into his hand.

At the sight of a tear, Tim got the feeling you were starting to break for good. Whatever hold Lucifer had on you was weakening letting the real you appear before him more often than not. “Y/N...” he called you by your name, waiting since your last encounter to use it again. When your eyes opened he inched closer, “...can I kiss you?” His lips hovered over yours for a moment as he waited for your permission.

You closed the gap between the two of you and gave him more than a simple kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck while your legs wrapped around his hips.

His hands ran up and down your back feeling you up. This was a long time coming. Not once had you two kissed but the intention was always there building until now. He could hardly stop himself.

After pulling away from his intoxicating lips there was a feeling of regret. “I think I really am crazy.” Just like you feared, you got that same warm feeling in your chest you once got with Lucy.

When you tried leaving Tim pulled you back. “You’re not crazy,” he assured you.

But you were because right there in that playground you pushed him down onto the grass and straddled his hips. It was late, no one was around but you were still out in the open. The only thing keeping people from watching was the greenery. Trees, bushes, shrubs- nature was helping you out but it wasn’t enough to keep Lucifer’s guys from spotting that kiss.

+++

"Cupcake...here I was worried sick about you."

You groaned as your eyes fluttered open. Trying to get a grip of the situation was hard when your head was spinning. Lucy beckoned you over in a sing-song voice masking his true intentions. When you didn’t come to him he forcefully dragged you along by the arm.

The size of your eyes almost doubled at the sight of a bloody Tim slumped forward in a chair. He appeared to be tied by the wrists and ankles but you could hardly make it out in the poorly lit warehouse. His hair was matted in a mixture of blood and grime. You were sure Lucy had kicked him around good before putting him on display for you.

All you could remember was being with Tim the other night. You were a bit dizzy which told you a concussion could possibly be to blame. You didn’t have the slightest idea of how you got there.

"It's your favorite Robin." He chuckled maniacally loving your reaction. "What's wrong sweetie pie?" He wrapped his arm around your shoulders bringing you in closer and placing a kiss on top of your head. When your horrified expression didn't waiver he realized this was far more than he had imagined. "Why so serious sugar bear?" he whispered the question into your ear in a very menacing tone that made your skin crawl. He wanted you to fear him as much as he feared losing you to his enemy.

"What did you do to him Lucifer- ah!" you yelped in pain when he harshly grabbed your chin. Turning your face towards his so your eyes wouldn't wander back to Tim.

"Honey don't be so formal, I'm your sweet lovable Lucy. The only man who can ever make you smile."

"Let go of me!" you tried pulling free but the more you fought the louder his laughter grew.

Tim awoke from his unconscious state with the sound of your struggle. "Y/N..." he called you by name not realizing the effect it had on Lucy.

"Robin!" Without even thinking you ran to him. A loud gasp echoed through the large warehouse when you were close enough to see he was seated on a chair with wires that lead back to the entrance where Lucy was standing.

Lucy laughed, "Now you see the extent of my surprise Sugar Plum? I got it just for you. Remember how you kept asking for a shocky chair?"

You were ashamed of allowing your role as Harley to get you this far. To see the person you loved being hurt to such an extent because of it- Tears ran freely down your cheeks. Frantically searching for a way to release him, “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

“Y/N go,” the pain he felt didn’t matter. He just wanted you to be safely away from the psychopath. “Run and don’t look back.”

“I can’t leave you here!” You pulled at the restraints on his wrists with all your strength but they didn’t budge. Lucy had replaced the basic leather strap and metal buckle with chains and locks that he probably disposed the key of.

Lucy’s expression darkened considerably even for him. “Honey Bun I’m starting to lose my patience. Get back here right NOW!”

Going against his wishes you embraced Tim.

“Fine... both of you can die.” There was no smile on your face like he expected. His Harley had been taken from him.

As Lucy gripped the lever you looked into Tim’s eyes and confessed. “I love you Tim.” For the last time, you pressed your lips against his feeling the surge of electricity run through both your bodies.

-end-

pic credit; shima920 真嶋しま℠

A/N: Thoughts? I apologize for spelling or grammar errors. I will check it later.

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serpent-face-and-flowering-heart · 6 years

Text

Let’s Start at the End- Chapter 1

After all this time I’m starting a new story. You can tell it’s name from the title. I don't really know how to summarise it so I’ll let you get on with the story.

eventual relationship: Demy (I don't know if there is already a ship name but I like this)

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

Remy walked into the therapy waiting room, sipping his overly complex Starbucks order. He plopped himself down in one of the chairs and checked the time on his phone. Any minute now, this guy should be ready.

The sound of the door creaking open filled the room. To his misfortune, it wasn’t the doctor, but another patient. The dark figure filled the empty chair beside Remy. He was dressed strangely to say the least, he wore way too much yellow, a cape, blower hat and mask covering half his face. He had his cape tucked around him, and his hat pulled over the front of his face, like he wished to be hidden, or not stand out amongst the bland room.

The failed theatre dork peeked out at Remy. “I get it, i’m attractive, but would you please stop staring at me.”

“As much as I love sass, if you thought you were attractive you wouldn’t hide behind a mask.” Remy played it cool, trying not to get caught, while not so subtly staring at them.

“Who are you anyway? Did you come from a make your own Disney villain party?”

“Okay, let's get this straight. Firstly, I’m not sassy, I’m sarcastic. Secondly, no this is just what I like to wear.” The man spoke with a slow, creepy voice, and an icy tone. Making Rem shudder.

But he’s talking to Remy, who doesn’t care, as long as he’s involved in a conversation. “You wear this normally!? Like around the house? Or in public? You look like an evil bumble bee.” To his annoyance there was no verbal response, but the man slowly turned away. Remy leaned forward, trying to get in his line of view. “Does Mr Mystery have a name?”

The stranger glanced at him. “Dee. And you?”

“Well Dee the bee. My name’s Remy, and I’m extremely curious, what is Dee short for?” He rest his chin on the palm of his hand.

Dee turned to face him, giving more of his attention. “So why are you here?” He asked, obviously ignoring the question.

“My friends told me this guy is the best of the best, and that it would be good to just check up with him, even if there is nothing seriously wrong with me.” Remy gestured with his free hand as he recounted. “What about you?”

“More or less the same thing, but my ‘friends’ think that there is something wrong with me...”

“Is there?” He received a glare that seemed to be a mix of emotions.

Both of them turned as the squeaky door to their left opened, revealing a man who looked as though he was half dead. “Hello, my name is Doctor Emile Picani. I apologise for being late. You can both come in now.” He drawled, barely able to keep his eyes open. Remy and Dee exchanged glances before following him in.

In the small therapy room there was a long cushioned couch opposite of a chair, Dee and Remy sat on the couch as Emile took the chair. Emile rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses. “I’m not in tip top shape today. Unfortunately I had to go to one of my friends, who isn’t in the best mental state, house last night and stay with him to prevent any drastic measures being taken. This means I got little to no sleep. I thought it would be better to show up tired then not show up at all. Of course if you wish to have another appointment it will be free of charge.” He still tried to smile as best as he could. “Well, anyway, what are your names?”

“I’m Remy, this is Dee.” Remy said, lazily gesturing towards him and Dee.

“I can introduce myself.” Dee said grumpily.

“Well now you don’t have to.” They snapped at each other.

Emile looked between them and had a look of understanding. “This looks like a forced fusion.”

Remy stopped his death stare with Remy and looked curiously at Emile. “It’s a what now?”

The therapist let out a small giggle. “Sorry, it appears that not everyone knows Steven Universe. In the show when two or more gems fuse together, mainly through dancing, they form into one being, that almost represents their relationship. If gems don’t have the best relationship, such as lots of fights, it takes more effort to keep the fusion together. I like to called this a forced fusion. I think your relationship is quite similar this.” Emile explained.

“What kind of therapist are you?” Asked Dee, thinking he isn’t where he needs to be.

“I call myself the cartoon therapist. Unless you mean what is my profession, then I’m both a couple and single therapist.”

Remy nodded his head as a smile tugged at his lips. “Is it alright if I talk to my bumblebee outside for a sec?”

Emile yawned into his hand nodding with approval. Remy grabbed Dee’s hand, dragging him out the door. “Do you know what’s happening? He thinks we’re a couple.”

Dee gave a questioning look. “You know we aren’t, right?”

“Yeah but listen, we could pretend we are. I don’t want to be here, and I assume that you don’t either, so we should act as if we’re dating and see if this guy is actually good. Then if we like him, come back for a single appointment. Please say yes.” Remy cupped his hand together, giving puppy dog eyes over the top of his glasses.

He stood in silence as Dee thought it over. Tugged at his lips, “Sure. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?” After agreeing he was engulfed in a tackle hug, being praised and thanked.

They reenter the therapy room together, Emile had taken off his glasses to rub at his face, clearly struggling with staying awake. When he put his glasses back on he jumped at seeing the two were already there. “Once again I must apologise for being so spaced out, honestly I get very little sleep normally with how many cartoons I watch.” The sentence was finished with a shaky laugh. “Anyway, where were we?”

“We have a forced fusion.” Replied Remy.

“Oh yes, now I remember. Your relationship reminds me of Opal from Steven Universe. Though you do seemingly get along, but when it comes to things that involve being more intimate, like couples therapy, it can be hard. But that’s fine. Maybe we can do an exercise? How about staring into each other’s eyes, you can learnt a lot about someone through their eyes.”

“That’s not cheesy at all.” Dee said, looking away from Remy.

“It sounds like fun, now look at me.” Remy growled through his gritted teeth, grabbing Dee’s chin making Dee face him.

They sat face to face, awkwardly. “One: We didn’t come here to have fun. Two: this isn’t working, I just feel weird.”

Emile studied them with a disturbed look as they stared each other down. “This isn’t what it is supposed to be like. Remy take off your glasses, and Dee your mask.”

Remy let out a childish groan but took off this sun glasses and turned to his fake boyfriend. Dee froze up, unsure as to why, it was just seeing him without his glasses made him draw a blank. Remy started to bite his lip breaking the eye contact. “Are you going to take off your mask?” Either Dee was completely losing it or the guy, who has being outgoing, extroverted, and not caring of what he, himself was thinking, has now turned shy.

The question slowly registered with him. “I-um-are you sure? If I do, c-can you not freak out?” Oh how the tables have turned. Remy smiled at seeing he wasn’t alone, and gave a small nod. Dee let out a shaky sigh, pulling the mask off away from his face.

He stared at the mask now in his hands, panic rising as he realised what he had done. “Wow.” Dee glanced up nervously, only to discover Remy staring in complete awe. “I didn’t know this was possible.”

Emile tried to see what it was that was so strange. He didn’t have to try hard as Dee turned to look at him. He rubbed at his eyes in confusion, “Do you see them to?” After Remy confirmed it wasn't a hallucination, Emile picked up the phone and started tapping and flicking wildly. “Did someone send you here? Do you have the code word? Who do you work for? No that sounds stupid.” He found who he was looking for his contacts. “Give me a second.” Was all he said before leaving hurriedly.

Dee had his hands clasped over his mouth, mumbling “no” on repeat. He started to shake and hyperventilate.

He flinched when he felt something on his shoulder. Despite this Remy kept his hand in place. “Look at me,” he commanded, “slow your breathing down, take deep breaths. If something bad does happen, you won’t be able to do anything if you’re passed out on the floor.” Remy was thankful that he wasn’t being stubborn and followed his instructions, but once calm he couldn't help but ask. “Can I touch it?”

Dee glared at him and his idiotic question, “Yeah, who doesn’t want their face touched.” As he felt a hand brush his cheek, he swatted at it. “I wasn’t serious, moron.”

Remy tried looking over the rim of his glasses but remembered he wasn’t wearing them. “Well I know you weren’t serious but I’m not missing this opportunity. It’s not like I normally get to see this.”

“Really you don’t see people with scales often.” Once again he hit Remy’s hand when he felt the scales. “Will you stop doing that, it’s weird.”

“Oh, they’re smooth, cool. How long have you had them?” While talking, he stuck his glasses on top of his head.

“I was made with them-” he was cut off by the squeaky door opening and closing.

Emile rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Sorry for reacting badly, I was worried about whether or not this is a good thing, or bad thing. I talked to my boss and he knows who you are, so it’s all good.” Emile said with a smile so warm, it could melt butter.

“It’s fine I guess, but I don’t think I want to stay. You need sleep, I need a break, and Remy needs to learn to face his fear of therapy.”

“I’m not scared-“

“Don’t lie to me!” Dee snapped, talking over Remy. He took a deep breath, swiftly placing the mask back on his face and got up and walked to the door. “This was so much fun, thanks.” A mumbled thanks slipped out before leaving. As soon as he was out of sight he sunk out to the mindscape.

Remy turned to Emile after watching the other leave. “Was that my fault?”

Emile shook his head sadly. “It’s not really anyone’s fault, he doesn’t trust anybody. Yet he suddenly opened up to someone he hasn’t met. But I’m confused, how didn’t you know this?”

Remy faced the wall beside him, running his fingers through his hair. “The thing is I was planning on lying forever but that’s not going to work now. We aren’t dating, you just called the both of us in and I asked him to go along with it.”

Emile cocked his head and asked curiously, “why did you do that?”

Remy looked back and hesitated before saying, “Dee was right, you need rest. I should go, bye!”

Emile smiled innocently, “He was right, but not for that reason. You shouldn’t lie to me, it won’t do you much good.”

Remy ignored him, briskly walking out the door, but stopped before exiting. “Oh, I forgot I need to tell you something. It was something Disney… um oh, Cinderella! Ok bye” he ran not wanting to continue talking to the therapist.

“Do they not know?” Emile mumbled staring at the doorway.

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

If you can’t tell I now have an editor. This was also made before the recent cartoon therapy so its very Steven Universe’y. And lastly the Cinderella thing I don't thing I will explain in the story, so it is based for how she can goto the ball without being recognised, this is a similar scenario were they won't be recognised, thats how the three don't realise there the same person. Thats the codeword needed for the therapy session. Guess who made the code word.

@witch197

#sanders sides #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remy sanders #cartoon therapy #fanfic #let's start at the end #demy

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inmyownlittlecorner5 · 4 years

Text

choking on sugar cookies: a monologue

A Monologue by Noelle Zingarella

Rated for Mature Audiences

Trigger warnings for domestic abuse, PTSD, religion, violence

I don’t make Christmas cookies with my kids.

It’s not that I don’t want to—I love cookies, and I love cooking, and I love my kids—so you’d think those things would go together nicely.

Except that, when I make cookies, my heart starts racing and I forget to breathe. I start moving as quickly as I can, trying to get the process over with, all the while giving myself a pep talk and attempting to feel my feet on the floor; saying things like “I’m okay. It’s okay. I’m safe. It’s 2019. I can do this. I can handle this.”

My heart rate doesn’t come down until the last cookie is out of the oven, and the kitchen is clean again. That’s the reason I’m rushing. I have to get that kitchen clean. I have to hand wash all of those dishes immediately, even though I have a dishwasher that most of them could go in. I have to put everything back the way I found it.

You see, if I don’t, my mother will come and get me.

Okay, that sounded creepy. My mother won’t actually come and get me. There are four hundred miles and a state line between us. But the one that lives in my mind will. That voice that follows me around, judging me, criticizing me, pointing out everything I’ve ever done wrong—it’s her voice. In my nightmares I see her staring at me, telling me with her eyes that she hates me even as she sucks me dry.

Except, I see that when I’m wide awake too.

When I was fourteen, my mother wanted us all to make Christmas cookies together. Shape cookies. The kind you cut out with whimsical metal cutters and frost and decorate with sprinkles. We had a nice collection of cookie cutters, some from my mother’s childhood, bent with age and charming. It should have been a nice way to spend a December afternoon.

Except, I hate making cookies with her, and those cookies in particular. The activity combined everything she detested—messes, cooking, and me. It was sprinkle-littered ordeal punctuated by my mother’s iconic sighs of disapproval—sounds that hurt more than yelling ever could. It took hours to complete, and by the end I’d be an exhausted basket case of nerves. And, to top it all off, the cookies weren’t any good. Nobody ate them until weeks later when the other desserts were gone and they tasted like stale, sad cardboard.

So that year, I said no. I didn’t want to make the cookies, and I wasn’t going to. I was going to my room, and I was going to read, and that was that.

You would have thought I’d set the house on fire.

My mother got my father, her faithful stooge, involved, and the two of them cornered me, my father spewing venom about what an ungrateful brat I was. I knew that this argument was leading up to them spanking me, and I saw red. I was NOT going to be spanked anymore. I didn’t care if they grounded me, or punished me some other way; but damn it, I was fourteen fucking years old—I was in High School! I was far too old for corporal punishment. It was simply not going to happen again.

As my father came at me, I slid into a wider, lower stance, and started using the blocks I’d learned in the karate class I’d been taking at the YMCA. I hadn’t planned to react that way, it was an in-the-moment decision. And for a moment, it felt so, so good.

But only for a moment.

My father told me to “stop using that karate shit on him,” and redoubled his efforts. Once my mother got involved it was a lost cause. I wasn’t very large and I was still basically a child, while they were two full grown adults. My father grabbed me under my arms and my mother grabbed my ankles, and they dragged me down the stairs and shoved me out the front door.

“Come back in when you’re ready to act like an adult,” they said, slamming the door in my face and locking it tight.

It was a relatively mild day—for December in a place of the world that regularly saw snow and sleet that time of year. I stood there on my front stoop in my stocking feet, with no shoes, no coat; evicted from the house by my parents. I stood there in shock at first, but then my survival brain started whirring. I had to get around to the back of the house before they thought to lock that door too. If I could beat them, I could at least get my shoes.

I sprinted to the back door—the door was unlocked—I gasped for breath, my heart pounding with the adrenaline. I had just gotten my shoes on my feet when my father confronted me, demanding I get back outside. I looked at him and told him calmly that I had only come in to get my shoes, while my blood pounded in my ears. When he didn’t engage me further, I turned and walked back out the door.

I didn’t even take my coat with me.

I walked across our backyard, through the neighbor’s yard, and through a few more yards. This was out beyond the limits of town—there were no fences or sidewalks or street lamps. It was a gray day, as I remember, and the sun would be setting soon. Eventually I came to a house where a young lady, Hannah, lived. She was in college, and she had baby-sat for my siblings and me in the past. I liked her and I looked up to her, and for some reason, I thought she would understand.

Hannah and her mother were surprised to see me, but they sat me down at their kitchen table and listened to my tale of woe. I still remember the looks on their faces as they tried to think of something to say. They seemed entirely at a loss as to what they should do. In the end, they told me to try to be patient and trust that things would get better. Then they sent me back home.

I was glad that they had listened to me—but I knew that things were never going to change.

My parents said nothing to me when I got home. I went to my room and stayed there. At some point they informed me that my punishment would be that I was not allowed to perform with the church choir for Christmas Mass. I protested that this was unfair to the other people in the all-volunteer choir who were counting on me to be there, but this was ignored. Besides, I should be happy to get off so lightly.

I suppose I might have asked why I was being punished further, being as I’d already been shoved outside the house on a winter day with no shoes or coat—but it didn’t occur to me at the time. Somehow I’d known, even when I’d been sitting in the safety of Hannah’s house, that there would be more punishment waiting for me when I went home. It’s just the way things were.

On Christmas Day I sat with my family in the pew while the choir performed without me. I tried to keep my face as impassive as possible—I hated how reactive I was and how my parents would use this to make fun of me and as proof that I was a childish baby. But my throat was tight with my unshed tears. Afterwards my father told me that he was proud of me because I’d borne my punishment with “Christ-like dignity.”

At the time, I stared at him in disbelief that he’d said such a thing. But looking back now, I wish I’d asked him: “If I’m taking my punishment like Christ, who does that make you?”

So, no, I don’t make Christmas cookies with my kids. Not now. Not yet. And it hurts me and I feel guilty about it. And maybe all this is why it’s hitting me so hard this year that I’m not able to sing. I’ve been off work, crippled by my PTSD for months, and I thought I’d gotten used to it. But, if I were busy with singing gigs, like I usually am this time of year, I’d be able to use that as my excuse for not making baking memories with my little ones. Instead, I can’t escape the real reason that I avoid it. And the fact that I’ve been sidelined reminds me so much of that year when my parents put me on the bench.

Looking back, I wonder why Hannah’s mother didn’t call the cops when I brought her my story. I guess there wasn’t any proof, and I guess she had no way of knowing that this was not an isolated event, never to be repeated. And I don’t know if I would have been better off if they had called the police. As Aslan said, we’re never told what would have happened.

I want so badly to be free of these memories—or at least to have them stay memories and not triggers that engage my limbic system and cause it to send me into the fight/flight/freeze/appease response that they do now.

I want to make cookies with my kids. I love cooking, and messes, and children, and all of them together. But that’s not going to happen this year.

I want to sing. I’m good at it, I love performing, I love music, and I think I love God (as much as I understand what love is at all) and I love all of them together. But that’s not going to happen this year either.

I feel that I’ve hit rock bottom more than once this year—but maybe, in a way, that’s a good thing.

Maybe there’s no where left to go but up.

End Notes:

Names have been changed to protect the innocent--and the guilty.

Resources for help in a Domestic Violence situation can be found at:

https://www.domesticshelters.org/resources/national-global-organizations

International crisis helplines can be found listed by country here:

http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

#monologue #end domestic violence #bad holiday #ptsd #scapegoat #end the cycle #keepingitreal

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