#this idea has been eating my brain and my drawing time for almost a week
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At your beck and call
Its moth, crawling out of the covid cave to drop this and then going back to bed.
wont lie this idea has been on my mind for the better part of a week, but between work and then being smashed by the ol' rona I havent had the energy, plain and simple. but I'm starting to get that back.
sorry if it seems a little rushed, brain wanted it OUT.
Butler! Zhongli x CEO (Afab) Reader.
Nsfw, does this count as office AU? i think it does?, humiliation kink if you squint?, aftercare because even when he's mean zhongli is an aftercare king.
You had never entertained the thought of hiring a live-in personal butler until one of your friends had mentioned it. She’d gone on and on about how her much time having one had saved, and how it gave her the peace of mind to relax every once in a while, a luxury you can't remember the last time you afforded as the ceo of a major company, sure you had secretaries, but they only worked within the firm, and your life?
God you needed a secretary for life.
Even then. It took you a few more months to finally cave and look into it. The agency you find has raving reviews; there’s an interview process, which takes another few weeks for you to finally sit down and do. They ask you many questions about your lifestyle, and what you need out of their service, and then it’s left in their hands.
And so, a week later, you receive a knock at your door.
Tall, sharp features, immaculately dressed.
But his eyes.
Holy shit his eyes.
Molten gold, almost shimmering in the morning light as your new butler bows to you. One gloved hand over his heart.
“Good morning Miss. My name is Zhongli.The agency has analysed your lifestyle and have thus extended your contract to me.” He explains.
Well damn, in the looks department alone you’d be leaving them a five-star review.
—
Your first proper morning with Zhongli working for you was…hectic.
Your morning alarm didn’t go off, thankfully your body-clock was pretty on point, but still, you’d slept in ten whole minutes, throwing off your schedule.
You barely even noticed that your clothes had already been laid out in the bathroom as you whirlwind through your bedroom to get ready, simply picking up the neatly folded pile as you went.
You resign yourself to a breakfast smoothie as you flurry into the kitchen, you simply didnt have any time to cook, and you’d have to clean the blender when you got home-
“Ah, good morning Miss. I trust you slept well?” Zhongli asks as he places down a plate of bacon and eggs at your usual spot in the breakfast nook. You stop, blinking at him with wide eyes.
“W-whats that?” you ask him, brain still not quite with it yet.
“Breakfast?” He counters with a tilt of his head. “Simply one of my duties.”
Right…
Right you had a secretary for your life now…
And fuck, he could cook.
You don't remember the last time you’d sat down, in your own house, eating a hot, home cooked meal for breakfast…usually it was toast, or if you didn’t have time to sit, the aforementioned smoothie that you really hated, but it was better than nothing, because when else would you have time to eat during the day?
But no, breakfast had been made for you, served with coffee and even the morning newspaper. Zhongli looks…immaculate as always, smile on his face as he cleans up and announces he will be awaiting you in the car.
That first day…no, the first week was such a learning curve… between him driving you everywhere, keeping you blessedly on time for your meetings, he also seemed to know exactly what you needed, sometimes before even you knew.
He sometimes appears with a small plate of cookies, and a mug of hot coffee, made just the way you like it, just as your mood was beginning to wane, and immediately you feel better.
As the weeks stretch on and deadlines draw closer, you find that he’s also an amazing sounding board, and your nights become a little less weary with someone else there to fill the silence, even as he silently goes about tidying your home, he’s never too far away.
—
Something around the latter half of the year just really made all your client’s extra demanding.
Your staff were overworked.
You were overworked.
You find yourself staying up later and later into the night, going over plans and documents, trying to sort all of this…this mess into something cohesive for both yourself and your poor staff.
You rub at your temples with a ragged sigh. What time was it now? You don't think you want to know…
A soft clink beside you draws your attention to a fresh cup of tea and you startle.
“Oh, Zhongli…I-I thought you’d be asleep by now..” you murmur softly, leaning back in your chair. Your butler simply smiles at you, even now at god-knows-what time passed midnight, he was still dressed in his usual work suit.
“You should be too, Miss.” he tells you softly, but not condescendingly, like a worried friend.
“I cant yet.” you sigh, motioning to the armageddon of papers strewn across your desk “I need to get this sorted before the next review meeting but…augh I dunno…I just…I cant concentrate.”
“That would be because you are stressed, and tired.” Zhongli points out, chuckling softly at your side eye before he shifts, walking around your desk to come to a stop behind your chair.
“Here… perhaps this will help…” he murmurs more to himself than to you, and suddenly his hands are on your shoulders, lithe, careful fingers pressing into your trapezius muscles. You grunt and wince a little, having been totally unaware of how tense your shoulders had been until now.
“Shh, just take a deep breath and relax.” Zhongli’s deep voice rumbles behind you as he slowly massages at the tension, his hands are gentle, but expert, and it takes you longer than it should to realise that he's not wearing his gloves for this. “Now…tell me what the matter is…”
With another set of eyes, and a clear explanation of what you need, by the time he’s worked all the tension from your shoulders, you’ve finally got a clear plan, and immediately set to work sorting and organising the moment his warm, surprisingly soft hands finally leave your shoulders.
Once all is said and done, you turn to your butler.
“Thank you, Zhongli…I…don't think I could have done that without you here.”
You’re met with a dashingly handsome, genuine smile, and a graceful bow of his head.
“It was my pleasure, Miss. I am here to aid your every whim.”
—
Meeting after meeting after meeting.
If you had to speak to one more person demanding things of you and your company today, you were going to scream. The sight of your black sedan, waiting dutifully for you outside the sliding glass doors at the end of the day was almost enough to make you cry as you all but collapse into the back seats with a groan.
“How were the investors today, Maam?” Zhongli asks, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he watches you in the rear-view.
“They could invest in some chill.” you mutter, taking a few moments before forcing yourself to sit up, knowing full well Zhongli wouldn’t move this car an inch until you had your seatbelt on.
“I hazard to say you could also do with, as you say, some chill.” He adds as he easily merges into the busy afternoon traffic. “You’re working yourself to the bone.”
“It’s just another month.” you sigh “investors always get antsy this time of year…”
“You said that last month too, you know.”
“Did I?” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose “Hey…when we get home…could I have another one of those massages?”
You loathe to admit how…reliant you had become on Zhongli’s ability to get the tension out of your shoulders, ever since that first night when he’d helped sort out your work with you, you’d been asking every other day or so for one, it was just so nice to relax into his care while you vented the day’s frustrations away, or soundboarded with him.
“Oh I think I can manage that.”
“Where would I be without you…?” you mumble softly as you let your eyes shut for a moment, just a moment to rest your aching eyes.
As it stands, that moment ends when Zhongli’s gentle hand on your arm rouses you. “Wh-wassgoinon?” you mumble, looking around.
“We’re home, Miss….you looked like you needed the rest so I didn’t rouse you.” Zhongli murmurs softly, reaching past you to fetch your bag.
He smells of tea, and spices…warm…comforting.
—
You groan softly as his fingers press insistently into your shoulders.
“You’re extra tense today…” Zhongli murmurs softly, leaning over to look you in the face “are you alright?”
“I-I…yeah…just…stressed I think.” you sigh, leaning your head to the side so he can get better access to your neck. You’d never admit it, but you were pretty sure at this point you were just craving his touch, you just…didn't have the time for skinship these days, how you’d managed to survive before hiring him? You had no idea.
Behind you, Zhongli hums.
“May I try…something different?” He asks quietly, rather unlike him, usually when he did something, he did it with confidence that you would be alright with it, and so far he’d never been wrong…why ask now? “I think your stress runs deeper than a simple shoulder massage can handle.” he adds when you look over your shoulder at him.
“I mean…I trust your judgement Zhongli…whatever you think I need…” you mumble.
You expect a change in his technique, maybe working a little further down your spine perhaps?.
Not to suddenly be thrown forward, chest pressed against the dark mahogany of your desk by a single,strong hand against your spine to keep you there as you gasp in shock.
“Z-Zhongli!?” you gasp, looking over your shoulder at your calm, gentle butler.
Only to find a sharp, seductive smirk plastered to his lips. His golden eyes are dark, predatory, you should be afraid.
Keyword: Should.
You watch, dumbstruck as he licks his lips, ripping your jeans straight off your legs like they were nothing, his ungloved hand grazing up the back of your thigh, and that touch alone has your eyes rolling back and a half-bitten moan falling from your lips. Gods how long had it been?
“Hmm, needy little thing, aren’t we? Thrown against your desk by your own butler and you don't even have the decency to be afraid?” Zhongli chuckles darkly as he shoves two fingers into you; the mix of pleasure and pain is enough to have your spine arching “Looks like I was right…you do need more than a little massage hm?”
“G-god…please…” you whine, the humiliation of the situation only making you hotter as he roughly thrusts his fingers, occasionally scissoring them to stretch you open, his other hand shifting from your spine to wrap around the base of your neck, holding you still as he works you open.
This new, rougher side to him…you didn’t know you wanted it...but god damn he was driving a hard bargain, plus it’s not like this wasn't something you may have thought about on a rare occasion or three… you’d just expected it to be…slower, gentler, but this? You could work with this.
“Please…? Please what?” he purrs, leaning over to nip at your ear “what do you want from me? I am at your every beck and call.” His words are low, dangerous, but genuine, and you shudder.
“You-!” you choke “please g-god, Z-Zhongli I want you to fuck me-”
One moment there’s fingers, the next moment nothing, and you want to cry, the petulant whine only being held back by the sound of a belt buckle.
“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I’m at your service.”
And then he roughly bucks his hips and good gods.
Considering he wore such fitted trousers, where the hell had he been keeping that??
That mix of pleasure-pain is back, but more intense this time; you definitely had not been wet enough, and yet? You wouldn't have wanted it any other way, the pain added it’s own flavour to your desire as Zhongli pins you against your desk, breathing ragged into your ear as he wastes no time, setting a brutal pace from the start that has papers and stationary clattering off your desk.
“So tight” he hisses “how long has it been since you’ve had a good fucking?”
Something about Zhongli swearing like that feels so wrong, but oh, so right in the moment.
For a moment, paperwork and meetings are the furthest thing from your mind as Zhongli shoves you even further onto your desk, free hand hiking your hips up so he can slam into you all the harder, the only sounds emanating within your study are the wet slapping of skin, and your cries of ecstasy.
He’s not gentle, and deep, deep down, you’re glad for it.
You needed this, spending every damn day for the last five years telling everyone else what to do? You needed this…loss of control.
Much like everything else in the last six months, Zhongli knew exactly what you needed, when you needed it, and before you even realised you needed it.
“Whats the matter? Nothing to say?” He grunts into your ear as he grinds himself so deep into you, you’re seeing stars. “You’re always so talkative…”
You can only moan pathetically in response, eyelids fluttering as he fucks you down into the table, his words are harsh, and humiliating, but all they do is draw your orgasm closer, barely even registering what he’s saying.
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, one moment you’re seeing stars as your butler bullies his massive cock into you, the next minute your world turns white.
—
“Shh, try not to move…I wasn’t gentle with you.” Zhongli’s tone is back to being kind and gentle after…how many orgasms did he just force you through? You’d lost count…all you know was that it had still been light out when he’d first shoved you down…now as he passes by a window with you cradled gently in his arms, it was pitch black outside.
Gentle lips press to your temple as he perches on the edge of the bathtub, holding you on his lap with one arm while he reaches over to get the water started. Wetting a washcloth to clean away a good portion of the mess beforehand.
Your body aches, but in the best possible way. You feel…breathless and comfortable, fuzzy.
You wince as he lowers you into the hot water, your muscles tensing at the sudden heat before relaxing again. Zhongli watches you with a soft look. Even coming off the back end of some amazing sex, he still somehow managed to look stupidly put together, if not even more alluring with his lack of suit jacket; it had been abandoned sometime during round… three you think? One moment it was on, the next moment, you’re being pressed onto your back, the jacket is gone, and he’s rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows and you’re at his mercy.
The lip of a water bottle presses to your lips, his other hand gently supporting the back of your head as you drink.
“How do you feel?” he asks once you’ve drunk your fill for now, like that switch that had turned him from the kind and courteous butler you had known to….whatever that zhongli was, had never flipped at all.
Despite this, you smile at him.
“I feel like…I need to ask you to do that again more often, Zhongli.”
To his credit, your ever-so-handsome butler laughs. It’s a warm, hearty sound, one that fills you with no small amount of joy.
“I am here to serve your every beck and call, I’m sure I can work this into the schedule.”
Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e
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Last year was a remarkable one for me. I started a new career that I love and find challenging and rewarding. I fell in love with exercise and gave up feeling guilty about eating, and now I’m getting into the best shape of my life. I turned thirty. I jumped back into writing fanfiction and drawing fan art. I made new friends (and gave up on some friendships). And I’m poor as hell because I spent a month in Europe during the summer, and my school district hates teachers! But honestly, I’m so happy to be here. We’re already a week into the new year, and I can really sense that this is going to be a tough one, yet I feel ready to take it on.
Instead of a New Year’s Resolution, each year, I pick a word or theme. Every time I have a choice, I ask myself: which action would align with my overall values for the year? My theme last year was “Health.” Mental, physical, emotional, etc. I’d ask myself “Is this healthy for me?” Should I take a solo trip to Portugal? Should I eat pastries for breakfast? Should I go for a run? (The answer to all of these was yes.)
Here is how I embodied “Health” in 2023.
I had ADHD for nearly thirty years and didn’t know it. In that time, I graduated from high school and college and earned my graduate degree. When I reflect on how I achieved these things without the slightest idea I had a combination type ADHD, there are two things that stand out to me.
First, for most of my life, my anxiety has been debilitating and has kept me on track in a very rigid, uncomfortable way. Fearing that I would miss a deadline, my brain used to cycle through checks almost compulsively—which assignment is due? Did I pay my doctor’s bill? Do I have enough money in the bank? I was always at least twenty minutes early to everything because I was terrified of being late. I did my homework in class during work time because I didn’t want to bring it home and forget. (I was also very lucky that I took naturally to traditional education—I had good teachers in high school, but the curriculum was also very easy for me.)
Anxiety is an excellent mask for ADHD—but the cost is constant exhaustion.
Second, I have always gravitated towards jobs that keep me on my feet and running around solving problems. I managed a retail boutique for about five years which suited my ADHD very, very well. I was never involved with a task for more than fifteen minutes at a time. If I’m creating a book order and a customer walks in, I’ve got to stop my current task for a short amount of time and come back to it. I could always switch my brain very easily from one task to the next. Very stimulating! I’m a teacher now, and it’s basically the same thing.
By 2019, however, my anxiety had become so unmanageable that I couldn’t look at my bank account, I couldn’t keep my apartment clean, and I couldn’t even begin to think about doing laundry. I began working with my therapist specifically on getting my anxiety under control. It was really hard work! It involved identifying triggers and sitting with exceptionally uncomfortable feelings without judgment of myself. The story of getting a firm handle on anxiety is fairly long, so I’ll skip over several years of work to say that my anxiety is manageable now.
It took years, but my constant state of high energy anxiety has calmed significantly. While this is good, I had no idea what it was masking. ADHD symptoms began to take over my life. I cried all the time because I kept losing my phone or I set my keys down somewhere stupid or I was starting to be late to everything. Laundry was even more of a herculean task and keeping my apartment clean was a constant battle. Tackling anxiety with my therapist helped me see that untidiness is not a moral issue, but damn! I was still frustrated that I tripped over stuff or that my clothes were never clean! My therapist started squinting at me as these problems cropped up, and eventually, they were like, “These are fairly classic ADHD symptoms.”
I really, really resisted this diagnosis. I had been fine fine fine for my whole life. I have a Master’s degree! I’m a teacher! If it’s hard for me to do laundry, it’s just because I don’t like doing laundry. If it’s hard for me to brush my teeth twice a day, it just means I’m a person with poor hygiene. And the thing is, I was completely capable of doing these things. I did them all the time! It’s just that I felt so tired, and it was just a matter of forcing myself to get it done. After all, does anyone really like doing chores?
“But I don’t think you understand how much harder you’re working to do them,” my therapist argued.
“It’s hard for everyone,” I remember saying.
“Right, but for the ADHD brain, you have to use a lot more energy to get started and to get finished the things you don’t want to do.”
All right, fine. That might be true.
So I started to accept that I miiiiiight have ADHD. My mom was shocked when I told her and insisted she didn’t remember me bouncing around or having trouble keeping up with assignments in school. (Except that wasn’t…actually true. I had a gazillion late assignments in elementary school but then I switched from private school to public in sixth grade, and school became much easier. I could keep up because I was usually finished before other kids.)
But diagnosis seemed impossible. I didn’t want to go through the whole debacle of setting up a doctor’s appointment, calling insurance, finding someone to assess me, yada yada yada. (Side note: the cruelest thing to do to a person with undiagnosed ADHD is to make them jump through a lot of administrative hoops to get to their diagnosis. Which is exactly what you have to do.)
At the same time, my sister was going through her own journey of getting an ADHD diagnosis. However, when she began treatment for ADHD, I wasn’t particularly surprised because her behaviors looked much more like classic symptoms to me. She went on meds as soon as she could and told me that it just felt like she wasn’t so tired anymore. That she could just… do things. And like, yeah, speed can do that for a person. But honestly, I was thinking I could use some controlled substances to boost my brain energy if they’d give them to me.
By the time I was able to get in with a psychologist, I was already most of the way through my first year as a teacher. I couldn’t sit through curriculum planning meetings without getting lost in the conversation, I couldn’t keep my mind focused during my own lesson planning, and I couldn’t fucking grade papers for more than ten minutes at a time. Damn, though, I was really good at pretending I was a well-functioning adult. I can lie my ass off, and I am a fairly good actor, so I was terrified the psychologist was going to tell me that it wasn’t ADHD—I’m just lazy and dumb and I need to try harder.
Shockingly, this is not what he told me. He said I have combined type ADHD which means hyperactive and inattentive. Hilariously, he said since Covid started, he has seen a huge influx of teachers getting diagnosed. It’s a job that attracts ADHD types because you’re never doing the same thing for long and it’s just constant stimulation. (I was chatting with a fellow teacher friend about it who also has ADHD—two other teacher friends overheard our conversation, grimaced at each other, and muttered that they might need to make appointments with their doctors too…)
Pretty soon I started meds, and it was life-changing. I realized that I was using food for stimulation for most of my life which was why it was so fucking hard to keep a healthy weight. I can now run longer distances because I’m not sabotaging myself by constantly remembering how bored I am or how much I want to stop. Grading papers still sucks but I can now grade for a few hours at a time, take well-planned breaks, and then jump back into it. Although not officially designated a symptom of ADHD, my Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is much more manageable. I’m not constantly critiquing myself in the mirror anymore.
It’s truly been fascinating to see these changes in the last six months.
That’s not to say I’m cured or things are super great all the time. Laundry is still a struggle and I spent most of my weekend just lounging around the apartment (and called it rest). Last week, I increased my Adderall dosage to 15mg because what worked in the summer when I’m off work is NOT enough during the school year. In any case, I’ve been reflecting on how my diagnosis has helped me to see areas of growth in my life. Instead of “oh, I’m just an impulsive shopper,” it’s more like, “Oh, you are very susceptible to targeted ads. Let’s be cognizant of that and create a check system that helps you decide if you really need to buy that thing.”
I’ve learned that ADHD is NOT an excuse. I do NOT get to opt out hard things because of neurodivergence (I mean, sometimes yeah, I do, but not all the time, lol). Instead, it’s been a fun challenge to assess what I feel like I can’t do and figure out a way to trick my brain or work with my cute little weirdo brain to get shit done. I love puzzles! And damn if my brain isn’t one huge puzzle.
So here’s my advice: there is no such thing as laziness. If your problem is that you think you’re lazy, but since laziness doesn’t exist, it has to be something else. It could be ADHD—it could also be that you expect someone else to do the thing for you or that you’re depressed or that doing that thing you’re ignoring just isn’t something you care about.
Keep reflecting and remembering that you are not static.
Book recommendation: How to Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis
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can't believe my dumb ass misunderstanding the hybrid jasper thing and the fact that you were talking about vampire jasper in the og hybrid universe actually resulted in such a beautiful thing thanks a lot to your galaxy brain and i'm sorry but now i'm one more anon disturbing you til death to have more of this concept !!!!!!!!!!
No, Anon. You gifted me with your galaxybrain thoughts. This concept has eaten away at me. I love fucking with the dynamic between Alice and Jasper, and the idea that he's some fucked up, mutated version of a hybrid because Maria crossed his path will feed me for a long time.
I'm still fiddling with how I want to approach this - there's the 'rewriting the canon story beats'. Or there's more of a Jasper-version of Hybrid which is... tempting. I could have fun with that.
But for now, here's some more from the ficmas version!
He wants to trust Alice.
But it’s hard. Nothing good has ever come from trusting a vampire. Or a woman.
Everything about her seems to be designed to lure him in - her big eyes, the sweet and hopeful smile on her face, the way she fusses with her gloves and hat and shoes. She smells like good things, safe things that feel like he dreamed them once. He really does want to trust her.
But he can’t.
The room that she’s rented for them is small but clean and warm. He wasn’t expecting that. Or the fact there’s a weather-beaten suitcase with clothing for him on the bed.
“It was easier to tell the landlady that you were my husband,” Alice says apologetically, as she takes off her coat and hangs it up. “If we’d traveled as siblings, more questions would have been asked.” There’s a tarnished brass ring, held on with a slip of paper, on her left hand that she slips off and into thin air. “She has assumed you were a soldier, which will work in our favor.”
He nods dumbly. Cover stories are nothing new, and this one is sturdy. But it makes him feel like he’s caught in a net and he can’t get free if everything turns sour with all the details already figured out for him. He wishes he knew if he could trust her.
Alice watches him for a moment, and she looks almost sad before she gestures to the suitcase. “Take what you need - the washroom is at the end of the hall. If… if I fetch you some food, will you eat?”She sounds oddly tentative making that offer but he nods. He’s not sure what he will eat - he existed on human blood for so long that human food only does so much; it is essentially medicinal, to keep him healthy and functioning. He can go for weeks, if not months, without much more than a few mouthfuls of water but it will take its toll.
But the blood… the blood he needs to stay in control.
In the washroom, he finds the case is very precisely packed - two outfits for him, all in dark colours and folded neatly, along with a comb and a razor. Soap and towels are provided in the washroom, thankfully. She’s even found him a set of pajamas that smell like soap flakes and dust. But underneath his things is a filmy pink scarf, separating another layer of clothing, and he cannot help but peel it back to see what else is packed in this suitcase.
There’s a threadbare yellow dress with mismatched buttons; a grey sweater that looks miles too big for Alice; a beige slip with a torn strap hastily pinned; a little pouch with an ancient-looking hairbrush, a dirty lipstick, and a brown leather notebook tied closed with some ribbon.
The notebook looks as old as he is, and he feels oddly guilty as he reaches for it. But he opens it and… maybe he can trust her.
The first few pages are letters. Unsteady and uneven, in a small, cramped hand; practicing over and over again until the letters become words. Mostly ‘Alice’ and ‘Jasper’ and ‘Cullen’. Leaning to write until it looks like the hand of someone her age and not someone who seems to have taught themselves.
And then little drawings - he’s stunned to see himself in many of them, drawings the size of postage stamps so as not to run out of pages.
A few sketches of clothing - dresses and coats and shirts. Lists of items, as if her memory cannot retain things. And then, almost in the middle of the book, it becomes … it becomes something he feels like he shouldn’t have seen. Notes on him, for him. Things to remember, things to know. Things that her funny gift has seen.
Can’t get cold or wet.
Doesn’t like milk.
Sleeps!
Pages and pages of notes to herself about him. And instead of being creeping and unnerving, like being watched in the dark, he found it… sweet and endearing, a clumsy gesture of goodwill.
She wasn’t lying when she said that she had been looking for him, waiting for him.
When he goes to put her things back in order, hoping that she won’t realize he intentionally looked through them and just messed them up pulling his own things out, he finds a dirty bit of cloth. There’s mud and old blood on it, and he pulls it out to see exactly why Alice has kept it.
It’s a torn, dirty garment. Not a dress or a shirt, but shapeless. The blood runs down the left side - a distinct pattern. He doesn’t need the lingering scent of venom to identify it, not with the blood splatter the way it is.
This was the garment she died in.
#alice cullen#jasper hale#anon#asks#my fic: hybrid jasper#alice being hopeless at human things#jasper being so tired and malnourished he's not thinking straight#just shenanigans
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the thing with ADHD is that it's super paradoxical. I've spent the last 72 hours or so doing almost nothing but making minute tweaks to this fansub, stuff like hand tracking signs in perspective at 800% zoom. it's the 'hyperfocus', and it can feel like a superpower. only the thing is I have no control over when it kicks in and what it chooses to focus on.
I had work to be done on Friday, work I enjoy and is novel and interesting, but this fansub project just jumped into my brain and took over the wheel and said 'you will not do anything else until this is finished'.
this is why the notion of 'executive function' is useful. I think of it like a unifying thing required to both get myself to do a thing that is not particularly novel or engaging in this moment, and to stop myself doing a thing that engages the hyperfocus because I have to eat or whatever. this feels like a finite resource, that gradually replenishes over time.
of course we're all in metaphor here. I don't actually think there's a finite reserve of some substance that I can use to get me to do things that aren't immediately stimulating. but being equipped with this metaphor lets me think of it like... ok, I will let my brain just do its thing and ride the rollercoaster now, so that I can have the wherewithal to do (difficult but important thing) down the line. or, I've been really pushing myself to do stuff recently, I need to take some time to recover the reserves. how good is this model? i'm not sure. probably not great, but it is a model.
anyway things that trigger hyperfocus are a bit arbitrary but common features tend to be...
novel: a thing that I haven't done before is intrinsically exciting - as long as I have some idea of how to get going. in my previous job I'd find excuses to do stuff like 'animate in Blender' or 'hack the graph drawing tool' just to add a bit of spice to rote tasks. thankfully my current job is full of new exciting things.
a steady drip feed of small successes: a big, daunting task is hard to get started on. something that has a clear avenue for recognisable, steady progress is a lot more manageable. 'write the animation controller' is unclear. 'make another animation' feels like progress, and I know where I'm at with it, so I will tend to choose that one given the option.
urgent: if the deadline is imminent and there really is no other option but to crack on with it, the anxiety gives a force multiplier on executive function. which results in a lot of procrastination leading up to mad last minute crunch. it's a pattern that I hate, not least because it's hard to say how long anything will actually take, but is hard to shake.
social: if it is for the benefit of a friend, or I get to show off a bit, it is way easier to get going with it. is it because I am kinda lonely and any time someone wants to spend time with me it feels like I dare not refuse because who knows when they will again? is it because I love to be praised for doing an impressive thing? idk maybe. however this is double-edged because if I feel I'm making something unimpressive I will be motivated to try and make it bigger and more complex, dragging things out, which might lead to not finishing the thing at all.
you can probably kind of see how computer games are a bit of a cognitohazard. especially open-ended games that don't have a finite built-in endpoint. I've gotten better at managing that now.
there are degrees of hyperfocus. there is the maxed out 'I will not eat or sleep until I finish this' mode. there is also the 'I have a new obsession' mode, which is a bit less intense.
the other thing with hyperfocus is that it is time-limited. at some point you just burn out on it and after that it's really hard to jump back into a thing. the unfinished projects on my hard drive are in most cases things I went nuts over for a few weeks and then dropped like a hot stone. this sucks because making anything worthwhile requires sustained effort over a long period.
I've been trying meds but so far no luck. they've currently got me off the meds taking baseline measurements while they figure out what to try next. though apparently the dose of dexamfetamine they had me on is like... so low that it's not surprising I didn't feel it.
gonna have to ask them about it next time I see them. because right now this whole thing feels like a bit of a mean joke. I'm staying in London for the sake of meds that could help, because it would take upwards of a year to get into another clinic, but what's the point if they're not even giving the meds a real shot?
but if there is any chance I can get working meds, I've got to try for it, because I don't think I'll ever achieve much of anything within the limitations of adhd, at least not without finding some new mechanisms to keep me on track. (though 'if I don't do this I might lose my job/the game won't be as good as it could be' works a bit as an extrinsic motivator)
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The Alexander Family
Part 1
The main man head of The Xander Group Brock Alexander is The President and CEO and my boss.
What he has no idea is his companies now about to release its newest surprise for all to see.
Project Live Doll is about to unleash to the entirety of the world all I need is a single picture of the person or persons.
My boss unfortunately for him has been in a salty mood for weeks due to four awful lady quarters.
I could essentially almost feel sorry for him
if I did not hate his guts to the pit of my stomach.
Every time I see him my vein pops out god he makes me sick and I hate all people like him.
The offices close for a week as my boss is in house again demanding my full attention yet again.
He is not happy with my promise of this new project of course he starts eating all of food in display.
I shake my head in disappointing laughing a bit under my breath he seals his own faith without a second worry.
“Well” he bellows out loud unknowingly his last breath he freely gives before the lights go out.
He stops cold, mind going blank, eyes roll back and he falls flat onto us back in a fit of panic.
Finally in a state of comatose he mindless
in his action is now a live action doll made to do as I say.
The seeds pop out into his blood stream in a fast effort they consume his blood revitalize it.
He is now an emotionless a total blank white slate wiping his mind clean as expected Mr project is a success.
Returning to the main frame my laptop has a copy of his entire map of his brain scan on me.
“Oh Boss! Soon you will know only snag you are programmed to believe.”
“Don’t worry though everything we do is my life’s work now.”
“Give me your body, mind and soul.”
“You are not worth much otherwise.”
“Billions of dollars and you are still a asshole”
“Mwahahahahaha”
“Payback is a bitch”
“Begin new protocol”
“Remap his mind pussy boss.”
Part 2
Henry Alexander is his eldest son who by all means just as ripe and foul as his father and second in command.
He is my next acquisition placing a call for me snotty to roll up in his basic tee and blue jeans.
He makes me sick I think to myself ready to be into my next phase I can see the elevator descend down.
The doors slides open with the spray bottle in my hand I hold it behind me as he gets a bit closer approaching me.
Before he can say anything I lift up my spray bottle to face him hitting the trigger as hard as I can.
The spray spurts out unloading everything into his face he knocks out completely falling onto me.
“What is the matter bud?”
“Can’t handle your own medicine?”
“After everything you have done”
“I own your ass now”
“HELP!”
“Shut up and sit your ass down”
It’s not too soon to feel victorious over my ex boss and his shitty family with their designer and expensive clothes.
He struggles across the floor sitting on the chair at last I get to work opening a draw to retrieve the rope and tape.
I strip a tape off the ball placing a wad on his mouth multiple times and then reach out for the rope.
Taking my time with maximum effort of tie him down the rope getting tighter and even tighter.
Smirking a bit I finish another hefty not onto the chair tying him to that he is immobile at this point.
He is lost for words but the fear in his eyes is unmistakable and his past acts are unjust and unimaginable.
Part 3
“LAWRENCE in here immediately “
“Drop the weapon! Wait! We can talk”
“As if fucker”
“Nnnnnnoooooo”
“Motherfucker”
“Did you say something?”
“No you can’t speak”
“Welcome to operation three”
“Your mic should come on soon”
“Who am I?”
“There we go”
“Damn fool”
“If only you listen to me”
“If only you respected me”
“A whole lot of ifs”
“We will correct that now”
“Query! Are you my boss”
“I am now”
“Kneel for me”
“Kiss my hand”
“Slowly “
“Learn your place”
“Yyyyeeessss”
“I understand “
Part 4
“Tyler CFO”
“Oh it’s you “
“Fuck you”
“What did you say?”
“I said Fuck You”
“Uuuuugggggghhhhhhhh”
“Dumbass”
“The fall so easily”
“They have no idea”
“We are coming”
Stand up and close the door “
“Call the hotel you frequent with your whores”
“Yeah I know about your activities “
“I hope you enjoyed them”
“With all my heart”
“Don’t be surprised “
“Your stealth is not your strong suit”
“Neither is your brains”
Part 5
“Now call your soon to return home”
“Take me their”
“Erase old mind”
“Input new protocol “
“Yyyyeeeesssa”
“Don’t worry”
“Won’t worry”
“All will be well”
“Good your home son”
“What is going on?”
“Drop the bomb”
“Nooooo”
“Cease the yapping”
“Being protocol “
“Mwahahahahaha”
The end
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Write me a story about autocannibalism.
I think a lot about death.
I want to die. It's not like I'm scared of death, or at least not in a way that would fit with the image of a healthy person I have built in my mind. I've known I'm going to die since I was a child, and while I was happy to die, I never actually felt happy about it, because I have very strong feelings about being alive, and the knowledge that I will, in fact, die is always present in the background when I'm doing those things, or thinking about them.
I've thought about death a lot since puberty, at least once a week or so, but it's just one of my normal routines, something I might do on any one of a huge number of unremarkable days. I am fascinated by the idea of death; the idea that one day I'll cease to exist is endlessly compelling, almost more so than the idea of being alive.
And then I think about cannibalism. What is it, exactly, that we're eating? Not everything, surely; there must be something there to sustain us. And what do we really mean by "us" here, exactly?
If we're talking about actual human beings: the "I" who dies and the "me" who lives are not really one person, not entirely one, and at the moment we are not the same person. But if I am going to die, or if it's going to be one of my unremarkable days where I just want to sit in bed for an hour, then I still must be me. It's really not too different from being hungry: if I don't eat, I'll starve.
There are times, days, or years when I want to die, not because I'm scared of anything but because it just seems like the sort of thing I should do if I want to. And it's not because of any of the bad things I'm doing in my life; there isn't a list, at least not one I know about, of the various things I could do to be a better person or a worse one, or some other such thing, and I know that the list includes not being myself.
I've thought about this a lot. My thoughts are inchoate, because I'm not good at drawing out and expressing my thoughts, but I have thought a lot about it.
I have thought about this in part because I've often wondered if it would be the same, if I could do something about it, if I could ever make it not happen, if I could be a part of myself that is not just myself but someone else. And I don't know whether that's possible, and I haven't done the best job of answering the question: am I an agent, or a machine, or a ghost, or someone else, or even something in between?
(What am I? I don't know. Not that I'm sure it matters very much: who cares if I'm a "real" "agent"? I've got the job, which is the only one in town that I want. What, does it really matter if I'm an "real" "machine"? Not like I'm getting paid, or anything.)
And then I have thought about it in part because cannibalism has always been an interesting metaphor for my mind; one of those "in the real world, X" analogies. What is me, and what is part of the world, and how can the boundaries be drawn? What can we really know about ourselves and what our limits are, and what they are? (And I'm not saying this in the self-aware "I am a fiction written by a fiction writer" way that some people say it, just in a confused way.)
I can think of lots of other, more concrete ways I've thought about these questions. For instance, my interest in what it's like to be inside a dying person's brain. I don't want to die; I'm sure, even if I were able to, I would find the experience unpleasant, and I hope I can live forever. And yet, I find it intriguing -- not the part where I'm trapped inside someone else's head, and not the part where I'm in the middle of the brain, but the part where I go outside the skull and look at the person's brain, or where I see some kind of interface, some kind of portal, to some part of the physical world that is inaccessible to me but that I can perceive with the mind -- and not just that, but also the knowledge that, in another context, the person's whole body is being used to do something quite different, and that these two things are not really one; that the brain and the whole body are not really the same.
I don't want to die. But I find it interesting. And maybe I'm right to do so. Life is interesting, and death, while painful, isn't interesting enough, the pain doesn't have enough narrative, it doesn't make sense the way the brain does. Death is too dull, for one thing. The pain ends, and the pain isn't what I find interesting. The pain is interesting because the pain is bad -- which means the pain is like other bads, the kinds of bad things that interest me. The pain is interesting in the way that, when I am hungry, the way I'm hungry is interesting. In some deep way, the person who dies is a part of my interests, or part of the kind of things that interest me. And in some deep way, I am a part of the person who dies.
I don't want to kill anyone, and I don't want to be killed. But I find it strange that when I say this, I'm understood by some people as saying something they find very strange. Why are we all so afraid of death, when the thought of someone dying isn't at all painful? It's not that the pain is painful, it's that the death itself is a kind of pain, something beyond physical pain. But I don't like pain; I find the idea of a kind of pain that isn't painful a strange, uncomfortable thing. The only way I know how to say that is that something in me is averse to something in myself, something that is, to me, much more important than the self. This, then, is how I put the idea: something inside me, something in the person who dies, that is different from my own, and I want that something to continue when they die, or I want that something to live on. I want that something to have an afterlife, and that's part of what I find interesting about the thought of death. (And again, this makes sense: you can't really be hungry, or afraid, for things that you have no physical sensation. I mean, you can, but we don't usually call this hunger or fear for things that don't cause pain -- we call it being hungry for, say,
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Marron bullshit to put on @writing-heiress twst avatar au part 1
Bringing up the fact I made Jasir unique be the literal avatar. This man would be from the calmest reasonable prince Freya can respect to get influenced by her and Minako for a few moments of life to get involved in danger to not give a shit and be ready to spout out roasts out of no hesitation.
Probably also get his ass beaten for not telling Freya he learned to bend gold (I call this the gold bending/ he can find gold nuggets in lakes and caves and bend them into pure gold coins for currency), probably also knows bloodbending, somehow knows to glass bend for a split moment, and might’ve studied more medicine then his family to fucking mess with them.
But the Minako influence being rubbed off him thing? Yeah. YEAH HE WILL BE DEBATING TO TELL HIS FAMILY HE ACTUALLY HAS MASTERED FOUR ELEMENTS AND KNOWING HE COULD’VE RULED THE EARTH KINGDOM HE JUST CHOOSES TO WAIT FOR THE BEST OPPORTUNITY BUT REALLY LOVES TO SHIT TALK ABOUT HIS OWN FAMILY WITH NO HESITATION
Jasir, very done after being dragged everywhere: man I want to tell my shitty family bend every element just to fuck with them.
Freya: exCUSE ME WHAT-
Jasir: but I really…… really want to tell my brother I hooked up with his ex two weeks ago. She said i was the better twin.
Minako: *wheeze*
Jasir: I learnt to bend Gold by accident but I find it useful because if they disown me. I would be rich to steal gold from mines or lakes and no one will give a shit about it-
Yuu: WAIT YOU CAN WHAT-
Jasir: I am going to ruin my family some day…..
Srs he is ready to bend everything and probably destroy his own home and get away with it while also taking the family tiger too. Liliana is just suffocating Minako with her giant height and fur. She just a hint tiger who probably almost killed the twins few too many times and they accept that would be their way to go.
@adrianasunderworld @mangacupcake @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind @skboba-stars @nproduction626 @rose-tea-and-strawberries @anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @achy-boo @abyssthing198 @zexal-club @liviavanrouge
Jasir after Mina dared him to burn his house three times and this was his wanted poster which he refused to let it be changed:
Update to my tag: it’s actually 1 am now.
Ps: no I won’t fucking sleep I live for chaos
Me when my brain thinks of the stupidest idea yet so genius to me:
Funny thing is I’m fucking listening to “fun facts with Wan” on TikTok and next shit happen for me to think Jasir can actually see the avatar spirits and never fucking said a word of it and just waited on a very serious moment to just say “oh yeah. I see the avatar spirits. Yeah. Yeah for my entire fucking life.”
Freya: ….. ARE YOU KIDDING ME-
Jasir: im surprise as you, I ain’t the avatar but here I am bending four elements with no relations to any avatar or nomads in that order. My best friend who I confide secret is a tiger, my family dote on a boy who blood bends his way around anything, and I fucking can gold bend. My life should’ve been normal. I would’ve been fine if I was just an earth bender but granted someone said “hey let’s fuck up this kid” look where I stand! I stand on a wire!
I should be asleep but my brain just refuses so if anyone wanna talk about crazier ideas for au’s or somewhat. I’ll be open until my brain thinks about more info or how unhinged the avatars would be to guide Freya or encourage her to go apeshit on someone.
And maybe I’ll draw her about to bend someone existence out again, making it the third time I’ll draw her. Maybe. Unless I debate on drawing her smacking the shit outta Jasir for holding the boiling tea then so be it. Someone will be smacked on sight.
This post got too long then I expected but I can just say this.
I have no control, I am just the embodiment of chaos and I want to eat soup so late.
#I keep forgetting I made Jasir the avatar in Twst canon I forgot about it#Jasir: I am so fucking done I am at my fucking limit with this family I will pay you to sock them a#Freya and Minako: Bet#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland oc#twst#marron ocs#twst oc#Jasir Horglas#It is nearly 1 am here#Twst Avatar au#muts ocs#Muts au#freya grimoire#minako sakamaki#Revoke my brain but y’all need it for the chaotic ideas I make on the spot
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Review Everything 30 - Sweet Tooth, Season 1
It has been a good, long while since there was a post-Apocalyptic thing I really liked has been airing.
Which is unfortunate because that’s the genre that originally got me seriously into worldbuilding, which is now one of the things that’s most important to me and I spend a lot of time doing.
Gus is an interesting protagonist for this genre. We’ve had Kids to The Apocalypse Before [one of my all time faves is The Girl Who Owned a City, Green Angel by Alice Hoffman stuck with me when I first read it as a pre-teen, The Hunger Games is a series I have mixed feelings about but was wildly popular, and I’d argue that The Last Of Us falls into this category too, and it’s pretty widely loved] but I don’t know if we’ve had boundless optimist kid being the protagonist like this. At least, not in anything I’ve seen/read.
Gus sort of feels like an anime protagonist in a weird way, like the main boy in a Shonen anime. Sure, he has his moments of fear, and doubt, but ultimately he’s going to have his mind set on the most hopeful outcome and push to get there no matter what.
I find an element of this slightly grating, though. Gus never seems to learn anything from these situations he throws himself into. He picked up some farm steadying skills with his Pubba and can feed himself [we never have seen food be an issue for him so far, though he always eats like it’s the first food he’s seen in weeks he also never complains of hunger or has flagging energy due to lack of food]. No matter how many times charging head first into a situation put him in danger, head first he continues to charge. Same thing for trusting people. Despite the world outside his little homestead showing itself, and plainly, to be dangerous to Gus he continues to act as if he’s a little boy alone in the woods with only people who love him to concern himself with.
The reason I find this odd is that I jumped into this show without really knowing what it was. I have been lamenting not having “a show” because all my favorite cartoons got canceled or cut short basically all at the same time recently. A reviewer I like offhandedly mentioned, “And hey, season 2 of Sweet Tooth is airing, so go watch that.” Then an ASL interpreter I follow shared a scene from season 2 that’s ASL heavy and I went, “Oh yeah, I should watch this.” From those two tiny exposures to the show I had no idea there were other characters that the movie would follow, or that most of them would be adults. I thought it was gonna be a kid’s show. It’s not! A character being static in something aimed at children is, for me, more forgivable then something aimed at older audiences. Which this show clearly is. Though Gus is ten and the show shies away from almost all sexual content and the fights are almost entirely bloodless, the subject matter and heavy focus on adult characters might bore kids Gus’ age. So I hope season 2 shows some growth for the kid beyond, “Wow, so everything isn’t on fire. Now let’s explore!”
I talk a lot in these reviews, I feel like, about my ability, or not, to guess at where a story is going. It’s just a thing my brain does when I consume media. To the point where, when I was a kid, I had guessed right one to many times and my Family forbade me from saying my guesses out loud. My gasp of realization less than halfway through a movie would draw glares from my family at family movie nights. I was even given a notebook to keep my thoughts to myself in for movie watching. They’re fun people. *eyeroll* All this to say, I didn’t find myself doing that much with this show. The reveal of Gus being patient zero, as it were, made sense, in a “Huh, I feel like I should have seen this coming” kind of way. I had been thinking, and only for that episode, that Birdie was gonna be patient zero, and give birth to Gus as the first hybrid kid. The only “called it” moment I had was like, 30 seconds before it’s revealed who Wendy was to Bear, when we see the back of her head as a little kid. That usually means the show is written well and doing its job, being too interesting for me to analyze in real time. Having too good a time with the show and being to distracted by how annoying Gus can be to make many guesses. XD
Something I find super interesting the the choices in how the hybrids look. I feel like characters that are important and that we’re supposed to empathize with the most are the “most cute” and most Human. Like, Gus has the tapetum lucidum thing going on, sure, but otherwise he’s a cute kid with deer horns and ears. There are about a billion OCs you could find on DeviantArt that look pretty much the same. He’s the deer version of a Cat Girl. Same thing for Wendy. But then we have, for example, the first character we see the new Doctor operate on and he’s got these big, ugly lizard eyes bugging out of his face, with the top part of his face being totally un-Human, with lizard tongue movements and animal like behavior. All the hybrid kids seem to have /some/ animalistic tendencies, but like, I feel like “we’re gonna cut you up now” might hit a bit harder if the lizard kid just had a little patch of scales and a normal kid face like Gus and Wendy have. IDK though, maybe that’s the point? They seem less Human so those scenes won’t be as upsetting.
Anyway, I’m really interested to know if there’s a reason some kids are cute animal gijinkas and some lean way more to the Cronenberg side of the “humans combined with animals” spectrum. Even if it’s just, “Genetics, some kids get more animal half, some get more Human half.” I’m SUPER not interested in quantifying the reasons and details of “weird deer shit”. I don’t want to know if lizard kids are exothermic if more than 30% of their bodies are covered in scales, I don’t wanna know if wolf kids need to eat an all carnivore diet if their teeth are sharp instead of flat, that shit. The show has some neat fantastical elements, I am happy to chalk up “their physiology is the way that it is” to “because”.
My only real critiques of the show so far are that the effects can be a little hokey, mostly the deer and other normal animals that show up, and that the kid acting can be well... Bad kid acting. Gus does okay most of the time but I have a real hard time feeling upset for him when he’s upset. He’s not great at fake big fear or fake crying, which are two things important to the story that he has to emote fairly regularly. Stefania LaVie Owen is doing an amazing job though, and so is Naledi Murray.
Looking forward to season 2. I like Birdie a lot and want to know more about her. I’d also like to hear about how Pubba felt taking Gus out into the wild, thinking she’d come, only she never showed up. I wanna see Wendy and Bear reunited. I also wanna know why almost every character in this show has a nickname or chosen name. Sweet Tooth, Big Man, Pubba, Bear, Pig Tail, Birdie, is this a thing the creator/s like or is there some meaning to it? I also really wanna know if our narrator is Gus all grown up.
In Summary: Cool world building, fresh take on the apocalypse [bold move making a plague movie while we’re still having a plague], a fun mix of science inspired story ideas and fantasy ones, I love me a good found family, animal kids are goofy but neat, and I wanna see more.
Overall: 6/10
#review everything - tv#review everything#sweet tooth#spoilers#gifs#tv shows#TK's content#not queued
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Any ideas of michi falling head over heels way too fast for someone?
notes — i'm assuming you mean michikatsu, in which case, i have ideas! it's a little short, but i didn't want to get carried away!
warnings — spoilers, semi-unrealistic setting for the time period, implied female!reader but never specified
Arrhythmia | Michikatsu Tsugikuni
His heart leaps in his chest when he catches sight of a familiar kimono.
Michikatsu isn't sure why he lets the other Hashira convince him to go out to eat with them. Usually, he's good at saying no, coming up with a convincing enough excuse or simply denying the suggestion altogether. He isn't sure what draws him to the quaint little restaurant near the Flame Pillar's estate; there's just something different about it.
Actually, Michikatsu knows exactly why he keeps going back there, and he'd sooner die than let anybody know the truth.
Every other week, he'd sit and listen to the other Hashira speak, if only to catch the smallest glimpse of a colourful kimono and perfect, white haori.
He didn't even know their name, and he felt his body shift whenever he even thought about asking for it. Michikatsu was aware of the term 'love at first sight'; it was hard to miss the way young lovers gazed at one another, partially blinded by adoration and lust to notice much else about one another. He hadn't ever wondered what it really felt like until several weeks ago.
And when the Flame Hashira asks him — every single time — why his heart is beating so fast, why he's lost control of his breathing, he tries to pretend like he doesn't feel shame burn inside his gut.
They must have figured it out somehow. Either Michikatsu isn't as slick as he thinks, or the other Hashira are sharper than he originally presumed, but they're pushing harder today, spending more time than usual trying to coax Michikatsu into saying exactly what they want him to say.
He doesn't relent. He leaves. He had no need to turn his eyes upon a stranger tonight — it might be best if he forgot about them altogether.
Michikatsu's in such a rush to get away, that halfway down the small road from the restaurant, he bowls into someone.
They're much smaller than him, and they land with an undignified squeak. He hadn't know many humans — other than children — to utter such a noise. In his haste to get away, he almost leaves them.
That colourful kimono stops him in his tracks.
There's a feeling welling in his chest that he doesn't ever feel, to the point where he's not quite sure what it is. It makes him clam up and burn, not unlike the hot springs he's visited on the off occasion. Hot springs don't usually make Michikatus feel like he's boiling from the inside out, however.
"I apologise," he mumbles, almost too low to hear as he reaches an arm out to help them stand. They don't seem hurt and, much to his relief, they aren't angry. They wrap a delicate hand around his wrist, forcing Michikatsu to pray that they can't feel his pulse race under their grip.
"That's okay," they tell him, smiling, "I wasn't looking where I was going, either. You didn't trip on anything, did you?"
Michikatsu wants to die. "No."
"That's good! Wouldn't want you to get hurt, now." They peer up at him, inquisitive and open, before they speak again. "Say, I see you around town a lot. You and your friends eat at that down the street restaurant a lot. Do you like it there?"
". . .Yes."
The colourful stranger claps their hands together, smiling widely. "That's so good to hear! My family has been making the sake that restaurant sells for decades now. Have you ever tried it?"
Michikatsu didn't drink. He didn't like alcohol all that much to begin with. "I'm not entirely sure."
They cock their head, and grin. "Well, I'll make sure you try it! It'll be my treat, how about it?"
Michikatsu could almost feel his brain rattle around in his skull. They were so friendly, and vibrant, and open. He was calm, he was calm, but that meant almost nothing to him now.
The smallest part of him wanted to ask if they were married. Instead, what comes out is, "What is your name?"
#demon slayer#michikatsu tsugikuni#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer headcanons#demon slayer imagines#demon slayer scenario#kny headcanons#kny imagines#kny scenarios#kimetsu no yaiba scenarios#kimetsu no yaiba headcanons#kimetsu no yaiba imagines
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What if Mikey used art as a vent but never showed it to anyone?
Raph was starting to worry a little about Mikey, the little bouncy frizz of joy wasn't bouncy no more.
He seemed happy when he came down to eat with the other or when they would all together hangout with April. But that was about it, except for eating or hanging out those were the only times they saw him outside of his room , and they didn't heard a sound in there if not the scribbling that always came out of Mikey's room and as far as the brothers were concerned if they heard that sound the situation wasn't the worst case scenario.
But it has been almost a week and that really worried Raph, did we do something that made him upset? Is he angry at us? The poor guy had so much anxiety in his body that he couldn't help but check on his youngest brother, he decided to talk a bit with him and ask him what was wrong and how could he help, he knew in his heart that Mikey wouldn't talk about his feelings easily since he never really did talk about himself and he would rather talk about his brothers instead.
Right when he was going to knock on Mikey's door he noticed a crumpled paper right by his feet, it came almost as a shock the realization that it was one of ''Mikey's failed attempt for art'' or at least that what he called the pile of crumpled paper an worn-out sketchbooks on one side of his room. Raph remembered the first time they acknowledged that pile of paper, at the question of what that was the younger calmly answered "Oh, those are just failed art attempts. Please don't mind those"; Raph also remembers that Leo couldn't restrain his curiosity and decided to look anyway, it took both Donnie and Raph to stop Dr. Delicate touch on his first appearance to his brothers.
A little hesitant the red masked turtle picked up the little ball of worn out paper before running to his room to look at the content, he didn't really want a meeting with a furious Mikey or other now. Slowly unwrapping the paper Raph noticed of how the pen marking wasn't forming a drawing but some kind of poetry.
"Here I am trying to get my brain to collaborate with me for one time.
The empty space of the void is sure scary but I am ready to glide over it with the wings I made for myself using mere paper, even if I'm aware about the risk of flying too close to the sun I can't bare the oppression that the void irradiates, but even if burn I know that I will come back like a Fenix and I will start fly again and if I get burned one more time I will always come back stronger than before to fly over the empty abyss trying to fill it up using only my ideas.
My mind thinks it's dangerous and I can't deny it, but for the sake of my art I'm going to fill the infinity of the void because all my ideas need have space.
I seek the void, sometimes when world is too much I need an empty space where I can see my own thoughts, a place where I can just go crazy and be the god of a new world, my world.
The void is the only place that can contain me even when I can't contain myself; even when I'm scared of it, the void will always welcome me in its emptiness and will wait for me to fill it with my thoughts.„
When Raph was both amazed and confused, Mikey's art ideas are always so creative, deep and beautiful, why would he consider this a failed attempt? The racing thoughts in the snapping's head were suddenly stopped by one of his brother's voice.
"Raph come one buddy we gotta go, April's is waiting for us", with that the big turtle carefully hid the piece of paper under his mattress before going to teh others. He will think about this situation later, but he desperately needed to talk to the Donnie and Leo about this.
.
.
(This is basically the older brothers' reaction to Mikey vent art right after they met Draxum for the first time)
Working on pt. 2
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HELLO???
masterlist
masterlist 2
request list
Requests: Kalpas
if you would be ok with me writing your ideas for Kalpas, I'm open to asks!
update: I'm still fine with taking asks! but!! at this point I have a couple and it will take me more than a month to get to any new ones so please just be aware it'll take me some time!
I will always take asks about your headcannons or my own, but any longer works are written on a whim. I do not control the writing, I merely write until my wrist falls off and hope that the words make a complete sentence.
Genuinely my interests in a character will change overnight, you would not believe the wip pile I have because my brain suddenly decides it hates the character it was obsessed with 2 hours ago
A lot of my works are just a bunch of small hcs or scenarios I have thought of or seen smashed together so if you send me hcs or I post some in response to an ask I will always try to link those to the work. I want to make sure people get credit for their ideas, even if they're on anon.
Feel free to call me Zaria or Zari (or Tamale if you're coming from ao3)
Or whatever really, so long as I can tell you're referring to me
she/her/they doesn't bother me either way
I'm a college student who enjoys writing in my free time (I know this is like code for "I'm a bad writer with 2 stories and then I drop off the grid" but I promise I genuinely write for stress relief, and I am very stressed at school so we'll be good!)
I mostly write fluff and angst x reader
As of now, I don't think I'll be writing nsfw mostly because my ace ass hasn't even been in a relationship and I want to become more comfortable with writing in general first.
That being said! I'm 100% here for short nsfw headcannons or asks so please minors DNI. If I do end up writing any smut it'll probably end up on ao3, though I will post a link here.
Speaking of asks
Asks/not-requests
If you just wanna post something, that's chill
If you want my thoughts on something, that's chill
If you wanna ask questions or talk about something I've written, that's chill
I'm not comfortable writing for or talking about minors, though there are a few characters I am ok with writing for if they're aged up (Damian Wayne or certain Persona characters off the top of my head)
Non-con is a hard no. Yandere is almost always a no. Dub-con is on thin fucking ice and usually depends on a whole lot of things.
Sometimes Tumblr eats asks!! If you think you sent something that was totally reasonable and I don't respond to it in like a couple weeks, try sending it again!
(at the end of the day, if you send something I'm not comfortable with, I'll let you know, or in extreme cases I just won't respond, so don't stress about it too much!)
Honestly I'm going to be writing either way, and I really just want to get my stories out on the odd chance someone has the same interest. Some of these stories are kinda niche or the reader has traits that I personally have or want for them. If someone enjoys them, great! If it's not your cup of tea, that's fine too! They'll be here until Tumblr gets sold off for the 57th time and loses so much money the shoestring holding it together falls apart.
Sorry for the super long post, List of games I've played below, it's even longer don't even look at it.
Fire Emblem:
Sacred Stones (ask me about Boston Grandma)
Awakening (If Camilla is dragon mommy, Cherche is dragon mom and I love her more)
Fates (Oh please don't start a fight)
Three Houses (oh please don't start a fight)
Like half of Radiant Dawn (Thank you Vimm's lair)
Heroes (You can always tell when Cuboon draws the art)
Overwatch (I have yet to play 2 and I'm not sure I want to)
Honkai Impact (HoS has modified my mind and now she and the flame chasers own me)
I am also fine with writing for APHO! I actually have a story in the works for the MC (man's got like 20 names)
Genshin Impact (Ohhh I could make a bonfire from this wip pile)
Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild (I have like four other loz games and just haven't played them. Thank you Vimm's lair)
Kid Icarus (I used to have the biggest crush on Dark Pit when I was younger hhhh)
Borderlands 3 (2 makes me so motion sick)
Persona 4 Golden (now with graphics!)
Persona 5 (Not Royal, I'll play it when it comes to pc)
Hollow Knight (I'm not sure how comfortable I am writing this, but I love the game to bits)
Tekken 7 (I have-no joke-17 hours on this game but I am more than willing to read the wiki for some of these characters)
Valkyria Chronicles 4 (I might have to replay it)
Transistor (bought it for the ost, stayed for the gameplay)
Bastion (bought it because of Transistor, stayed for the gameplay and ost)
I love supergiant Darren Korb, I own Hades but have not played it because I know I'll be obsessed for like a month
Devil May Cry 5 (I haven't played the previous games, do with that what you will)
Anime:
In advance, I watched these like almost a decade ago so I might be a bit rusty. Most of them I really care for though, and I'll take recommendations!
Ouran High School Host Club (I'm so sorry)
Soul Eater (I can't remember if I ever finished this...uhhhh)
Fruits Basket (the like 90's version, not the more recent one. Hatsuharu ruined my life tho)
Sailor Moon (Sailor Jupiter my beloved)
Fullmetal Alchemist (Fu Hua killed Meas Hughes)
Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood (I get these two mixed up, I should rewatch them both, right?)
One Piece (I don't think I got past episode 200, I will be so inaccurate)
RWBY (If you count this, I think I'm behind by a season)
I am so terribly sorry if you read through all of that. If I have something that's not listed, feel free to ask anyway! I really like making horrible guesses about characters and then actually seeing them in their game or show and finding out how inaccurate I was (half the time my guess is just "oough ladie")
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Warning: I like to doodle on my phone even though I'm not really good at it. Also, this post is gonna be about some dumb Rabite OC, so... Uh... Yeah.
It's almost been a year since I (well, pop, too) made up some ridiculously adorable Rabite OC for Duran and Angela to share as a pet/son and kickstart their """""secret""""" relationship. It was a rough month, so writing about an adorable little critter (and writing my otp doing cute autumn things and making out in a pile of leaves) helped things feel a little better.
so, here are some misc doodles from the past year or so I did while me and pop shaped this little sweer potato into... Something. A character?
Cider was kind of an accident. While writing Fall I was like "oh heck, pop, dude, I want something to interrupt them when they're making out, otherwise I'm gonna have to write smut and I'm not ready for that level of commitment yet".
Pop, he's my man, my dawg, my ace in the hole, my sigma reader, a genius! (It's why I steal his ideas for stories, bahaha). He says, "Why not have the Rabite that pops out of the pile of leaves and spooks Angela earlier interrupt them?"
Boom. And then I thought about the little Rabite following them back to Valsena and then...
Oogh. This is rough, but it's one of the first doodles I did, trying to figure out how to like... Draw the characters...
Man, Cider is HUGE! that was before...
... In Spring Forward I had Duran compare Cider's previous size/shape to a sweet potato because I didn't really know what else to use (and sweet potato is a fun word) so, retroactively, baby Cider is the size of a sweet potato. Cider picked up some bad habits from his parents, it seems. He's supposed to be roughly 3 months old when they find him (the actual first time they find him, though, he's like, two weeks old, tops).
sweer potato
This doodle long existed before the Kirby crossover fic. Oh, poor Duran. He really wanted those bladed shoes.
L. "SHE'S A WITCH!"
R. Cider likes to snooze in his papa's hair.
One of my favorite traits about Cider is, even though he's domesticated, he still has a little tiny Rabite pea brain, so sometimes he doesn't quite comprehend things. Like, Rabite Slippers, or plushies.
"MY SON IS FAT! AND PINK! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?" -Duran
Actually, in the final version of Spring Forward, I took out the fat descriptor for Cider when he boomfs into a Silktail. I forget why. Pop thought it was funny. Some of the doodles we traded at that time were FAT Cider. It was a good time. I think this is when we started giving him a bowtie, too.
Warm weather = bowties
Cold weather = scarf
the after effects of getting swallowed and spit out by a world-destroying god and eating Super spicy curry can be pretty devastating. That Kirby crossover was a fun fic to write. I reeeally wanted Duran and Angela to avoid meeting Kirby directly.
I wasn't kidding when I said I was in tears writing the (temporary) departure. Heck, dude. I draw/imagine Cherry a little more close to what Rabites are supposed to look like... or, I try to. Cider has big, floppy ears, while she has the more traditional triangular ones. (Cider's weirdass family is probably going to have to be a separate post because I hit image limit and there's too much to explain)
Anyway, I love Rabites. Why do we have to fight them? It's not right, man. How can I, or anyone, in good conscience, fight something that is JUST TRYING TO SLEEP AND HAS THE CUTEST LITTLE SNORES AND HOPS AROUND AND WIGGLES ITS EARS LIKE IT'S DANCING
ISHII! YOU ARE A MONSTER! A MONSTERRRRRRRGHHHHHGGRFGHHHHHHhhhhhhhhrrghhr
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slipping lately
request:
+ "don't lie, your dimple usually shows when you're actually smiling. what's wrong?" & drawing on nat’s back.
warnings: talks depression, poor self care. not proofread but i didn’t give moli a chance sorry moli :3 mistakes are mine.
note: this didn’t exactly turn out the way i wanted it to, but oh well. i’m so sorry if you don’t like this bc tbh its not my fav work of mine :(
+ also i think something has been similarly written with painting on nat back, so whoever wrote that i’m not trying to steal your idea!! i just thought the idea was a cute one :p
🏷: @c-is-writing ‹3
. . .
winter months were always hard for you. the weather was cold, the sky was grey, and the air around you was crisp, unforgiving almost.
everything was dim, lifeless it seemed. and it was no surprise when you found yourself unable to get out of bed. nothing seemed important enough to handle, even the small things like showering or eating or changing your sheets. it was too much.
things didn’t improve much knowing natasha wouldn’t be back for another few weeks. she was a thousand miles away with minimal contact and you didn’t want to bother her when you were finally able to call her.
but things were tough, you could hardly eat, get up to shower, wash your clothes, or do anything else that involved you having to leave your bed. the others took notice, but you were quick to brush them off with a gentle reassurance. no one believed you though, and it was up to wanda to send natasha a message about what was going on.
another two weeks went by before you were finally in natasha’s arms again. she greeted you with a kiss to the forehead, mumbling how much she missed you.
you tried to keep your act up around her, making attempts to fix her breakfast or do her laundry for her. but natasha could see right through you, just as everyone else did.
“baby?” she called out, snapping your attention away from your thoughts.
“yeah?”
“think you could turn around and face me? i know how much you like kisses while we snuggle anyway.” natasha could tell you were hesitant, but didn’t comment on it.
you nodded, turning your body to face her, burying your face between the crook of her neck.
“i think we should talk about what’s going on. don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere.”
you wracked your brain for any excuse you had because even though you knew natasha knew, you weren’t going to give in at the snap of a finger.
“i’m okay, natty. i just missed you is all.” you plastered on your best smile.
she pursed her lips, “don’t lie, your dimple usually shows when you’re actually smiling. what’s wrong?”
“i just missed you, that’s it.” you tried again.
“i don’t think that’s what’s really going on here baby. you can tell me anything, you know.” natasha pushed once more.
“nothing’s going on. whatever anyone told you has got it messed up.” she quirked her eyebrow, “oh really now?”
“i’m okay, nat.”
“no you aren’t. let me help you, talk to me sweetheart.” her lips kissed the top of your head for the third time that night. you bit the inside of your cheek, nuzzling your face under her chin. should you tell her? or should you not?
and finally you caved.
"i'm just so tired, nat."
"of what?”
"everything. my mind is a mess right now and i don't know how to make it stop." the sound of your voice pinched a hole in natasha's heart. she placed a small kiss to your cheek, "i'm sorry baby."
"s'okay." you mumbled.
“how have you been taking care of yourself while i was gone? be honest with me please.” she pleaded, but all you could do was shrug.
“how’s your eating been?”
“not great, i’m sorry.” your lip quivered. “hey, no, don’t apologize. what can i do to help?” you thought about it for a moment before something finally came to mind.
“would you be willing to do something kinda.. i don’t know, weird?”
“what’s that, sweetheart?” she smiled.
“can i draw on your back?”
another kiss was placed to your head.
“of course. no dicks, okay? you know i’m a lesbian.” natasha giggled, letting you crawl out from her death grip around your body.
“i promise natty.”
you rushed to get the washable markers hidden under your nightstand, giving natasha a sheepish smile when you noticed her watching you.
“you like to color?” she teased, flashing you her signature smirk.
“sometimes...”
natasha took off her shirt and unclipped her bra, tossing them to the side of your shared bed and laid flat on her stomach. not a minute later she felt the weight of your hips against her back and the tips of your markers drawing line after line against her skin.
she let out a small giggle after the first few strokes, commenting on the fact that it tickled her back.
“what are you drawing anyway?” your lips met her shoulder blade, “it’s a surprise.”
another twenty or so minutes went by and you were done. however, when you went to check on natasha she was already fast asleep. you quickly snapped a picture of her back to show her the next morning before quietly putting away your supplies.
a part of you felt better, but there was definitely a long way to go. one night of using a coping skill wasn’t going to fix you, but with natasha’s help you knew you’d be able to pull yourself out of it.
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Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16
Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16
Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader
Rating: R for language and smut.
Words: ~3100 words.
Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.
Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15
gif credit: @benbarnxs
Part 16
You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.
As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-
“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”
Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.
***
It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.
“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”
“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”
“And Adam’s body-”
“Will be disposed of.”
“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”
“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”
With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.
“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”
His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”
“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”
“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”
He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”
Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.
He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”
You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”
Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”
“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”
“I always am around you.”
His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”
“Shut up.”
Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”
Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.
You smiled. “It is my apartment.”
He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.
Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.
Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.
You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.
An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.
You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.
“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”
“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.
Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.
Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”
He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”
“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”
“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”
You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”
“Can’t really do that.”
“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”
“I’ve had a rough week.”
You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.
”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.
“Move in with me.”
Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.
“That’s not funny, Billy.”
Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”
“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”
“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”
“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”
“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”
“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”
“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”
“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”
“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”
You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”
You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”
“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”
You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.
You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”
Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”
You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.
***
Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.
After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”
You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.
“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”
“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”
“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”
“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”
He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.
You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”
Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”
“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”
He nodded his head. “I won’t.”
“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”
“I need to kill that voice.”
You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”
“It took you that long to believe it?”
You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”
He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”
“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.
He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“
“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.
Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”
“Not once have I lectured you naked.”
He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.
A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.
He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”
The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.
Part 17
A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)
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GOJO SATORU || pretty eyes [pt.2]
anime: jujutsu kaisen
character: gojo satoru
pronouns: she/her
notes: high-school! gojo x underclassman! reader
the part two of ‘pretty eyes’ is here! read part one here.
“You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.”
Gojo prides himself as a man who just ‘doesn’t do relationships’. Besides the fact that there is a line of women who were just waiting to get with him, he had never really seen what an actual functioning relationship looked like. His parents had an arranged marriage to ‘keep the Gojo clan’s genes powerful’ - his father was barely around, going about his duties to the clan whilst his mother was out and about having affairs left, right and center.
With that being said though, Gojo was a determined man. He may not know exactly what was it that draws him to a particular junior of his, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get to at least know her better. The problem? He has absolutely no clue on how to woe her.
“Remind me again exactly what am I doing here?”
It was a Friday afternoon - and classes are always let out earlier on Friday. Usually Geto would spend the free afternoon just relaxing in his dorm after a long week of classes and missions; but before Geto can evens step one foot out of the stuffy classroom, Gojo had grabbed his arm and teleported them both out of campus. That’s how he found himself in a random café that Gojo had graciously dragged them into, narrowing his eyes over at his best friend as he raised his mug of earl grey to his lips. “If this is about copying my essay-”
“How do you ask a girl out?”
“Hah?” Geto asks with an annoyed scowl, to which Gojo just made a noise before he awkward sets his clean cake fork down; the multi-layered cookies and cream cake sat untouched before him. That alone should be concerning, since Gojo is known to have a strong affinity for sweets. “How do you ask a girl out? Like, on a date.” Gojo repeated with the utmost serious expression on his face, and for a few moments Geto just blinks at him owlishly. “Satoru, how the hell have you been asking women out before this? It’s the same damn thing.”
“Asking a girl you actually like out and asking someone for a one night stand are two very different things.” Gojo stresses whilst Geto actually sets his mug down before him, the situation slowly dawning onto him. “You’re actually being serious right now.” He mutters whilst Gojo tossed him an annoyed look, clearly unamused by how little faith his friend has in him. “Well, first things first, you actually need to get to know them better first before you actually ask them.”
“Yeah, well - I’m trying to work on that.” Gojo grumbles out quietly as he picked his fork back up, digging into the corner of his cake with a soft frown whilst Geto leans back into his seat with a thoughtful look. “But I didn’t even notice her until recently.” He sighs softly to himself as he examined his forkful of cake, a slight pout tugging on his lips. “I am sure Ieiri might help. But knowing her, that means I’ll owe her another debt that she will use against me.”
Geto, for once, actually feels some form of sympathy for Gojo. Whilst he grew up in a functioning household with loving parents, Gojo was brought up in a lonely world, where he was treated like a prized position to be paraded about. So Geto wasn’t shocked at how unsure the usually overconfident Gojo is when it comes to something as trivial as dating. “Well...you can bring her out for coffee like you’re doing with me.” He offered, to which Gojo just made a face at his statement. “Sorry buddy, I don’t swing that way.”
“You little piece of shit.” Geto grunted with a light scowl as he kicked Gojo hard underneath the table, his annoyance growing at the familiar grin that was tugging at the corners of Gojo’s lips; and also the fact that his foot was stop by the Limitless that Gojo had activated before Geto can kick. “I mean an actual cute date dumbass - bring her café hopping about Tokyo or something. Or one of those pet cafes - people love pet cafes.” Geto said with a tired sigh, picking up his mug to take a slow sip from his warm liquid whilst Gojo actually pauses for a moment at Geto’s words. “Wait, that’s not that bad of an idea.”
Geto just rolled his eyes at that, taking soft sips from his mug whilst he watches as Gojo start googling about a few cafes that he can bring her about. “You’re welcome.” Geto said with a tired sigh as he sets his mug down, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks over at Gojo. “Now figure out a way to get to know her better and see if she’s even interested in your annoying ass.” He stated simply, to which Gojo just grins as he pointed the end of his fork as Geto, having eating that bite of cake whilst he typing away on his phone. “Who wouldn’t be interested in me?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
The next time he had gotten a chance to bump into her was actually by complete accident.
Like usually, he had decided to slack off instead of doing his homework; so it was no surprise to find the young shaman cooped up in the library of the school with a variety of textbooks opened around him. To be honest, Gojo wouldn’t have done this essay if it wasn’t for the fact that it had a heavy weightage on his final grade, determining if he could graduate from high school.
Even with that threat overhead, he decided to drag it out until the very last day to start writing it. Geto was just annoyed at him, since Gojo is actually really smart - yet he enjoys slacking off. It was infuriating, and since Gojo had already annoyed him enough with his entire ‘crush’ situation, Geto had just told him to go to the library before promptly closing the door in his face.
So there Gojo was, long limbs stretched out all over the place as he twirls his pen between his fingers. He had the most bored expression on his face as he tilted his head back with a sigh, his eyes blinking up at the wooden ceiling. If he was being honest, he had actually finished half of his essay - until he grew bored and wanted a distraction. He was about to get up to go and grab a snack from the vending machines when he heard a pair of soft footsteps and a quiet voice calling out to him.
“Oh, hello there, Gojo-senpai.”
Gojo widen his eyes in shock as he suddenly sat up straight, almost dropping the pen he was twirling between his fingers as he snapped his eyes up at the girl that had plagued his thoughts day and night. The same smile gracing her lips as she curiously walked towards the messy desk, casting a glance over the many opened books and the half-written essay before him. “Am I disturbing your research?”
“N-No.” Gojo said, cringing a little at how awkward he sounded - it was so unnatural and so unlike him, and he hopes that she didn’t notice it. Fortunately she hadn’t picked up on the awkwardness that he was basically radiating as she smiles and nods, gesturing to the free seat opposite from his with her free hand. “Do you mind if I take a seat there? I don’t really like studying alone in the library, it can get really quiet and boring.”
Numbly Gojo nodded, feeling a light blush coating his cheeks when he saw the grateful smile she tossed over at him casually as she made her way to the seat. He snapped out of it when he saw her pulling her own textbook from her bag, quickly shifting his mess into a neat pile so she has more space to work. She thanked him quietly with a smile, settling down in the free seat opposite from his as she started to flip through her book. He pretended to return to his work as well, but in reality he was watching her through his lashes, admiring how she can make something as simple as reading look graceful.
There was no way he was going to be able to do work now.
Closing his eyes a little, he reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose, this action causing his signature rounded sunglasses to fall down the bridge a little more. He was about to push them back when he felt a pair of eyes on him, causing him to look over the rim of his glasses over at the girl before him. When she was caught staring she just smiles at him, causing Gojo’s now calmed cheeks to flare up once more. “You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.” The girl stated simply, tilting her head a little as she casted him another smile.
And once more, the simple act of a smile caused Gojo’s breath to hitch, his eyes widening even more as he watches how she just casually looked down at her textbook once more. If only she knew just how that one sentence had basically shot-circuited his brain - rendering him useless for a few seconds. Somehow though, he managed to slowly return to his senses and start on his essay, the sound of having someone else studying with him getting him into the groove of things. Without even knowing it, he wrote the last sentence of his essay; smiling victoriously as he picked the essay up and flipped through the sheets of writing. He gave them a quick scan, reading it briefly to make sure everything looks alright before he slipped his essay back into his folder.
He had started to pack his books up when he spotted the clear look of confusion that was splashed across the face of the girl opposite from him. For some reason she reminded him of a kitten, and for a brief moment he just wanted to reach over to gently squish her cheeks in his hands. Instead he gave into his smaller temptation; gently kicking her slipper clad foot with one of his own to grab her attention. “Need some help with that?”
The younger girl gave him an embarrassed smile as she nods, rubbing the back of her head softly as she glances back at her textbook. “I wouldn’t mind...it’s just - I’ve been reading over the same chapter for a few days now, but I just don’t understand anything.” She admitted with a tired sigh as she hangs her head a little, sporting what looks to be a soft pout of frustration that caused Gojo’s heart to skip a beat at how adorable she looked. Wordlessly Gojo got up, grabbing his seat from his end of the table as he made his way towards her.
Settling down beside her, he leaned closer to scan over the page of the textbook, a memory jostling in the back of his mind at the same lesson he took back in his first year. “Oh, I remember this. I can help you if you want.”
“Really?” The younger girl said with an curious look as she glanced back at the man seated beside her, Gojo widening his eyes when he realised just how close their faces were. He can feel her soft breath against his cheek, and what smelt like mint coming from parted lips. This caused him to blush as he hid his widened eyes behind his sunglasses, wondering how the hell was she not outwardly reacting at how close their faces were. “Y-Yeah. I mean, I’ve already finished my work...I don’t mind killing some free time helping you.”
The girl gave him a grateful smile before she rubs the back of her neck gently, feeling a soft flush appearing on her cheeks that caused Gojo to stare shamelessly. “Thank you, senpai. If you need anything from me after this, don’t hesitate to ask.” She offered shyly as she glances over at Gojo, who blinked before he decided to take his opportunity. “A-Actually, there is something you can help me with.” Gojo admitted after he took a deep breath to steel his resolve, but the tone of his voice was still far too shy for how the third year.
His words caused the girl beside him to cast him a curious glance
“Would you maybe...be interested on going on a date with me?” He asks her, biting his lip a little as he stared at her from behind his sunglasses. For a brief moment the girl just blinked at him before her face suddenly blossomed in a deep shade of red, her hands coming up to slap over her warm cheeks as she stared at him with wide eyes. “M-Me?”
A shy nod was given before Gojo awkwardly glances down at his lap as well, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hand whilst the other rested on the desk before them; anxiously tapping against the wood. “Y-Yeah.” He mumbles in a soft voice, and for a few moments there was silence that caused Gojo’s heart to beat painfully against his chest.
Screw whoever says that facing a Special Grade Curse would be terrifying - Gojo feels like he might just die from the anxiety of asking someone out for something as simple as a date.
He was about to start babbling about some random reason as to why when he heard her shy answer. “I-I mean...I wouldn’t mind going out on a date with you...”
Cue short-circuited Gojo once more.
“O-Oh.” Gojo spluttered out with wide eyes, having not expected for her to agree so readily as she gave him a shy smile, her face still dusted in a light shade of red as she nodded her. Her answer caused him to smile, biting his lip a little to stop his face from splitting open in a huge grin as he tilts his head a little. “Does 5pm tomorrow sound alright for you?” He asks her quietly, to which she grins softly and nods her head, her action causing her hair to fall over her face in perfect waves; the action causing Gojo’s already poor heart to do another flip in his chest. “We can meet up at the front of the school.”
With a final nod and another shy smile shared between the two, both of them returned to the work that hand. However there was a certain atmosphere between the two; the slightly excitement that was clearly on their faces at the idea of their date tomorrow, the light bumping of shoulders as Gojo reaches over to point at something as he explained it to the girl quietly, soft comments that leads to soft giggles and the shy glances they both share. The soft smiles on their faces sealing the scene for anyone to walk past to know that there was definitely something brewing between the two
Who knew all it took was a simple complement to land them where they are today.
© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk#jjk imagines#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x you#satory gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk satoru#satoru#satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff
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hello! do you think you could do a chapter with fem!reader whose afraid of thunderstorms and wakes up in the middle of the night because of it but doesn’t wanna wake alcina so she just stays awake but the storm goes on for like a week and this keeps happening until she notices and comforts you through it by like cuddles or talking you to sleep to distract you from it :)
Oh my god I hate the way this came out. My brain just could not process this for some reason. I also couldn't make it as long as a week, my apologies.
**************
One dark evening at Castle Dimitrescu a storm rolled in. Relatively speaking, it was quite harmless and most of the inhabitants of the castle were unbothered by the storm.
Except you.
Late into the evening, whilst most were asleep, the storm was at its strongest - the crackle of thunder rolling through the halls as flashes of lightning illuminated the darkest corners of the room. You were trying to sleep, honest, but just as you felt the drowsiness of rest come to take you - a loud crack of thunder would jolt you awake and paralyze you with fear.
You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing rapid.
You pulled the covers up to your chest and hugged your pillow close to your chest. Resisting the urge to run and hide in the closet like you used to do as a kid was becoming more and more difficult.
Another flash, another boom.
You knew it wasn’t logical, but you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching or jumping as the sounds of the storm roared outside. It was just so loud and you could swear the castle was shaking with it.
You squeezed your eyes shut, white-knuckling the pillow held tight against your chest and humming a song to yourself in order to distract your brain.
The sound of constant rain was suddenly accompanied by heavy hail falling, and that’s when the thoughts started charging at you full force.
What if the lightning strikes the castle? What if the castle collapsed? Did it have the right infrastructure? What if-
“Stop it, God. Stop it!” You begged your brain but to no avail. Your mind kept generously providing you with possibilities and images you
did not ask for.
Another loud boom and this time you couldn’t help the cry let out before clapping a hand over your mouth and diving under the blankets.
When you didn’t hear anything for a few minutes you felt it safe enough to come out of hiding. Thankfully the vampire slumbering next to you wasn’t disturbed by your pathetic cries and whimpers. She had a rough day dealing with a very pissed off Mother Miranda and needed rest and relaxation as much as she could possibly get.
You forced yourself to lay still on your back and focus all your energy on controlling your breathing. That was the key to saving yourself a panic attack. You don’t know how long you were staring up at the ceiling, but dawn eventually came and your partner stirred from her sleep.
She would have been happy to see you if not for the redness in your eyes and puffiness surrounding them, obvious signs of lack of sleep.
“Are you alright, draga mea?” She wrapped her arms around your midsection and rested her head on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.
You didn’t answer, even though you knew Alcina wouldn’t just drop the question. She was sweet and caring like that, which is probably why you never had the heart to tell her how much of a coward you actually are.
“You didn’t sleep very well, did you?”
“Nightmares,” you rasped, trying to focus on Alcina more than the low rumbling outside. “I’ll be fine after a cup of coffee.”
She looked as though she didn’t accept that answer but quickly hid any doubts behind a warm smile. “If you’re sure.”
It felt wrong lying to her. You had never felt the need to hide anything from Alcina before, but this was just embarrassing. She’d probably laugh at you told her you were still afraid of thunderstorms.
The day progressed with relative normalcy despite the occasional sounds of rumbling. Alcina busied herself dealing with the mountain of paperwork on her desk for Mother Miranda and the girls were running amuck in the basement. Depending on which room you were in you could hear their laughter below you. Their mischief down there has always been a mystery to you, even now after living in the castle a couple of years. You knew what they were doing, but couldn't fathom the idea of enjoying it so much. You did find it rather disturbing that their torturing frightened you less than a stupid thunderstorm.
You huddled in the back section of the library behind the bookshelves so you couldn’t see the lightning out the windows. The loud rumbling still had you on edge, but a good book is always a welcome distraction. It worked so well, that you didn't hear Daniela approaching. You practically jumped three feet in the air when she was stood in front of you.
“What’s wrong with you?” Daniela asked, her voice was stern, but it also had a concerning tone to it. She had dropped her bag, keeping the knife at her side. Your breathing was heavier than usual as you tried to think of what to say. It was more than embarrassing to tell Daniela the truth. You knew for a fact she out of everyone in the castle would laugh at you. "You scared me,"
She rolled her eyes. "No, Dummy, I mean what's really wrong?"
You shrug and turn the page of your book. “Nothing.”
Another boom. You couldn’t fight off flinched.
“Oh, I think I get it. You’re afraid of-”
“Don’t tell anyone.” You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes tightly. Daniela wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. You watched as
she cautiously sat back down. The redhead sat in front of you, the rain somehow sounding even louder than it had before. You looked over at Daniela, feeling the embarrassment creep upon you.
Daniela started at you with a rather confused expression, resting her arms on her knees. “Out of everything we’ve been through,” she began, “everything you’ve seen us do. Everything that goes on in this castle just below your feet,” she paused. “And you’re scared of thunder?”
You sat silently and twiddled your thumbs.
“Why?”
“Doesn’t matter,” you whisper. “It’s not important. You’re only going to run off and tell everyone.”
Daniela rolled her eyes and picked up her bag, headed once again for the basement. “Whatever, y/n, have it your way.”
You spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening shuffling around the library hiding from the white flashes. It was only when Daniela came to fetch you for dinner that you left. Luckily you were eating in the kitchen instead of the larger Dining Hall. The kitchen is much more manageable; marginally fewer windows to see the lightning. The meal carried on as it normally would; the girls boasted about their successes in the basement, Alcina discusses all the work she got done today and complains about the work she put off for tomorrow. It was almost enough to take your mind off the chaos happening just outside the windows. Almost.
The storm carried on just as confidently throughout the evening and into the night. It showed no signs of relenting, which in turn meant another sleepless night.
You wasted no time stripping your clothes and crawling into bed, back to the open windows. Alcina didn’t think much of it, simply chalking it up to being exhausted from the previous night’s lack of sleep. She wasn’t completely wrong, you did feel like you were ready to sleep for the next 24 hours. But you knew the storm wouldn’t allow you that luxury.
Pressure against your back and an arm wrapping around your midsection snapped you out of your thoughts.
“I hope you sleep tonight, my love.”
“Me too.”
An hour later and you were still wide awake listening to the rain being pelted against the windows. An anxious voice whispered impossible scenarios of the rain breaking through the windows and lightning striking you down in the safety of your bed. You tried your hardest to not toss and turn as to not disturb the woman next to you. She's not asleep yet, you can tell by the lack of snoring, but her breathing is starting to even out. You were curled up on your side, back to Alcina. She wrapped you in her arms, her chest against your back and arm across your waist. "Dove..." she whispered in your ear. "Y/n... "
"I'm sleeping, Al." You murmured snuggling further into the vampire’s arms, your eyes still closed.
"No, you're not." She stroked your side absently. “Are you sure you’re ok? You aren’t falling ill are you?”
You sigh. “No, I’m not getting sick. My body is just too exhausted to relax.”
Alcina hummed, burrowing her face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll stay up with you for a while.”
“You will not. Go to sleep Al, I’ll be fine. You had a long day yourself, one of us should be able to sleep."
"Why don't we go sit in the Drawing Room or the Library? I'll hold you in my lap and read to you." God no. Way too many windows. "Goodnight, Alcina." You feel her sigh against your skin, pushing a few stray hairs around. "Can I do anything?" "Stop worrying, it's just insomnia." "I'll stay up with you then. You shouldn't be up all by yourself staring at the ceiling." "I'm not alone, Love, you're right here with me. Asleep or not I'm still in your arms, and that helps a lot." You feel her smile against your neck and pull you closer against her front. "wake me if you need anything."
You actually slept fairly well; only waking up a few times to have Alcina soothe you back to sleep. Being tucked away in her embrace did a world of help, but you still woke up hours before Alcina did. Her eyes fluttered open and focus on your groggy face. She frowns.
"Did you sleep at all?"
You smile and kiss her lips. "Yes, I actually slept a lot better last night than before."
"Good," she pulls you back to kiss you again.
*******************************************************************************************
Later in the afternoon Bela and Cassandra invited (dragged you really) into the Drawing Room to play a game of cards.
Everything was going really well. You were laughing and playing with the girls like everything was as it should be in Castle Dimitrescu.
You were made astutely aware of the situation outside again when a loud crack of thunder shook the castle. There was another flash and clap of thunder, this time loud enough to make Cassandra flinch.
You abruptly shot up from the table. “Sorry. I need a minute.” You rushed down the hall into one of the guest rooms. Cassandra and Bela shared a confused glance and watched as you hurried away. They’d never seen you so flighty and nervous before. Neither could tell what was wrong.
They laid on the carpet and silently counted to sixty before following you to down the corridor.
“Y/n?” Bela softly knocked on the door. “It’s been a minute.”
There was no response. More thunder. Bela frowned. “We’re coming in, okay?”
She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/n?” Cassandra called, stepping further inside and glancing around the room. The sisters checked under the bed, then under the covers, even under the shade of the bedside lamp. Then Bela peered out of the rain-soaked window for good measure. Where else could you be?
Just as Cassandra decided she was stumped, she heard a rustling from behind her and a muffled, “I’m in here.” She turned around in confusion because the only place they hadn’t checked in that direction was…
They crept over to the closet and carefully slid open the door. The girls smiled when they found you sitting on the ground, curled up with your head between your knees. “Playing hide and seek now, are we?” Bela said. “Next round I call being the— um, y/n?”
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, staying right where you were. “Sorry.”
“S-Sorry for what…?” Cassandra crouched down beside you. The closet almost had enough space for the three of you to fit.
“Y/n, please. Something’s obviously bothering you, can’t you tell us?”
All three of you startled as another flash of lightning cut into the room, followed by another growl of thunder. You tightened your grip around your legs. Bela’s jaw dropped.
“It’s the storm,” she said, half a question, half a statement. “You’re scared of thunder?”
“It’s childish.”
“Oh, y/n…”
“I’m weak. Something as dumb and simple as loud noises shouldn’t make me so—”
“Y/n. Look at me.” Cassandra’s gently stern tone convinced you to move your head so your chin rested on your knees. You side-eyed the girls, trying to imitate your usual stoicism. It was difficult with red-rimmed eyes.
“A phobia doesn’t make you childish, or weak— do you know how many people have a fear of thunder, y/n? A lot of humans.”
“A lot of Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans as well,” Bela chimed in.
“And are you going to go around insulting them? No, Y/n, because that’s not nice. So don’t insult yourself for the same thing.”
Cassandra waved around her index finger as she spoke. Your eyes widened and followed the movement. Both girls laughed.
“Is that what’s been giving you nightmares?”
You shake your head. “I just haven’t been sleeping; too tense.”
Cassandra giggled. “Just ask mother for extra cuddles, not like she’ll say no.”
“Or a more intimate distraction,” Bela winked.
Both sisters giggle at the blush creeping on your cheeks.
“Can we sit here with you?” Bela asked, already taking the vacant spot on your right.
You shrugged— as much as you could in this balled-up position. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s ok y/n, we don’t mind.”
They sat on either side of you, Bela holding your hand, enjoying the comfortable silence that cast over you.
*******************************************************************************************
A loud crack of thunder jolted Alcina awake. Cursing to herself she eyed the clock across the room–2:06 am. Raking a hand down her face, she jolted again when another crack of thunder echoed through the castle. It wasn’t a minute later that an insistent downpour of rain started pelting the roof and windows followed by an angry howling of the wind.
You stirred next to her in the bed. You were mumbling in what sounded like a mix of Romanian and English. Alcina swallowed thickly because she knew what that meant; another night terror. She laid back down and curled herself against you, cocooning herself against your back. Alcina placed a few stray kisses on your shoulders and the nape of your neck, smoothing her hands along your hipbone in the process. You calmed after a few minutes, your mumbling returning to the steadying breaths of deep sleep. Alcina sighed in relief and closed her eyes in hopes that she could drift back to sleep.
KRAK-OOOOOM!
Alcina sat up on the bed and saw you still appeared to be sleeping, though you looked somewhat agitated. She reached over and attempted to run her fingers through your hair but all that succeeded in doing was causing you to jolt awake.
You woke up with a strangled yell and starting crawling out from underneath the sheets. You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing and heart rate rapid. Alcina crawled over and realized you were having a panic attack.
“Y/n, can you hear me?” You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as tears started leaking from the corners. You clamped a hand over your mouth, and Alcina realized you were trying to silence your breathing.
“Honey no, don’t do that, just focus on me,” she pulled your hand away from your mouth slowly. You shook your head and tried to take your hand back.
“No no no... I can’t- I-I-I can’t wake Al-Alcina,” you gasped.
“It’s alright, Dove, just follow my breathing.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths to demonstrate. You started calming down slightly.
“That’s it, everything is alright, just keep breathing.” You seemed to calm down more with the breathing exercises.
“I’m going to get you a glass of water“ Alcina started to say, but was cut off by you grabbing her arm.
“No! Don’t-don’t lea- don’t leave, please, don’t- don’t” you closed her eyes, her breath quickening again.
“Sweetheart, breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Alcina took your hand and put it on her chest.
“Breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Your breathing returned to normal. After sitting in silence for a bit, Alcina turned to her.
“Another night terror?” She asked. You looked away for a minute, ashamed of yourself.
“No.”
God, you probably woke her up, good job.
Alcina couldn’t keep an amused smile from forming. “Can my little dove not sleep because of the thunderstorm?”
As if on cue, a blinding bolt of lightning crackled down from the sky. The following rumble of thunder seemed to shake the castle. You let out a whimper and shielded yourself from the sky. “How could I possibly sleep when it sounds like the sky is falling?!”
Alcina hums and pulls you close against her. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy fear, Dove. It brings out the human in you.”
“UGH! Just-!”
KRAK-OOOOOM!
Another shriek, barely muffled by Alcina’s shoulder, had you violently trembling. You were barely holding yourself together.
Wracked with terror, eyes shut tightly, you found yourself unable to prevent the reflexive compulsion to cling to something nearby.
Which, in this case, was Alcina, who was left staring in shocked silence at the violently trembling form with arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She immediately wrapped her arms around you again and began rubbing soothing circles on your back.
“Calm down. You’re fine,” She spoke softly, ignoring the buzz under her skin as she soaked in the unwitting embrace like a dry sponge in water. Soothingly, she rubbed up to your shoulder blades. “There we are, my love,” Alcina chuckled. ��I’ve got you. Listen to my voice,” She rumbled, speaking soft but firm as the thunder forced smaller tremors through the floor. “You’re going to relax. I’m going to help you. Just lay here with me and close your eyes. I’ll hold you all night if you want me to.”
Gradually, the sound faded and petered off back into the loud patter of rain against the windows but Alcina held you tightly still. She could feel the flutter of your heartbeat against her own, almost impressed that you hadn’t passed out from fear alone.
“Why didn’t you say anything? The storm’s been going on for days now you must have been petrified.”
“I didn’t want you to know,” you mumbled into her neck. “It’s a pathetic fear I’ve had since I was a kid. I don’t want you to think less of me.”
“You think something as trivial as a phobia would make me think less of you?” She pulled you even tighter against her. You melted into her embrace. “Clearly I haven’t been a very good partner to you.”
“No Al, it’s not like that. Gods, you’re an amazing partner. It’s just my stupid insecurities. You’re all so fearless and brave. You’re not afraid of anything, and then there’s me; tiny, inferior, afraid of a little thunderstorm.”
She sighed and continued rubbing circles on your back. “I’m not fearless.”
“Yeah right,” you scoff. “What could the great and powerful Alcina Dimitrescu possibly be afraid of?”
“Death.”
You wriggled out of her arms just enough to turn and face her. “What? But, you’re immortal. Death isn’t really something you have to worry about.”
She gave a small smile and brought a hand to cup your face. “I never said my death, sweet one.”
Oh...OH
“The girls are clever, they can get themselves out of most situations unscathed, but still, we can be slain. And there have been some pretty close calls in the past. And you,” she rubbed gentle circles on your cheek. “Your death is inevitable. It gnaws at the back of my mind every time I look at you. Every time morning I have to untangle myself from your embrace I remember that one day I’ll wake up alone and wish I cuddled with you for just a bit longer."
"Al, I didn't-"
"I can't always be there to protect you, including the girls. If I could take the brunt of all conflict for you I would gladly do so, but that's unfortunately not how life works. I'm just left worrying until I know for sure you're all safe."
She hummed into your neck and kissed your pulse point. "How selfish of me, I'm supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around. If I paid more attention I would have known, I’m sorry, my love.”
“Don’t apologize, just hold me.”
Alcina kissed the top of your head. “With pleasure.”
Soon enough you did fall asleep again, your arms still clinging tight around the vampire’s upper midsection. Alcina found a comfortable enough position and allowed herself to drift away as well.
#lady dimitrescu x reader#lady Alcina#tall vampire lady#alcina dimitrescu#bela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#resident evil#resident evil village#resident evil 8
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