#truly a terrible idea to go through an important test with little sleep but my brain wont shut up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

untaemedqueen · 3 years

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 32 (Final Chapter).

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Daddy Kink, Degradation, Hand Job, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Pregnant Sex, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Begging, Praise, Spanking

A/N: This is the FINAL, FINAL chapter.... Wah, can you believe it? This is so crazy! I'm so so happy that everyone has enjoyed Third Wheeling so much! Thank you to my forevers @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia and @ppersonna for being behind me on everything about this series

The sharp whistle that Yoongi chirps, bleeds through the living room of the mansion.

His two year old son turns to him with round, curious eyes. His small hand is outstretched trying to pick up the million dollar vase you have on display on the coffee table.

"What're you doing, my little troublemaker?" Yoongi murmurs, wrapping his arms around his son and throwing him up in the air.

Honggi squeals loudly, curling his arms around his father's neck like needy vines.

"Maya, please move that vase before Y/N has a fit." Yoongi whispers to the woman he's always admired.

"Yes, Sir." she giggles.

"Dada," Honggi squeals into his neck and Yoongi's heart clenches at the sound.

"Yes, bud?" he inquires, tilting his head to look down at his son.

"Hungry." his son breathes.

"Mommy's making food, let's go see." Yoongi chirps, running his large hand over his son's small back.

Taking in the new mansion, Yoongi is really happy with it.

He didn't bring over a special architect from Greece, he didn't fawn over the marble this time around. He let you pick the house.

And like always, you're incredible.

The house isn't particularly gaudy like the last one which he shared with his ex-wife. It's warm wooden interior and gray and white furnishings scream home. And that's what Yoongi always needed -- a home.

Although, anywhere with you is home, he's noticed.

The wings that spread out far and wide throughout the house have pieces of art that make Yoongi feel comforted and he's astounded everyday by how thoughtful you are.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and it rips your husband out of his daydream.

"Uh oh, here comes trouble." you sing, slinging your towel over your shoulder.

You extend your arms over the quartz island for your son and Yoongi is incredibly cautious.

"Be careful, please," he begs.

You give him a sweet nod, accepting your son into your arms and Honggi leans over the pot curiously.

"Cow?" he asks and you snort loudly.

"Yes, beef." you reply, wiping his chin with your thumb.

"B-Beef," he repeats and Yoongi beams.

Honggi isn't one to stay in anyone's arms for long, despite how much he adored being held as a newborn. He wriggles almost immediately to get down and Yoongi takes a sharp breath between his teeth cautiously.

"Watch mommy's belly, please." he yelps, setting your son on the floor.

"Jesus," he bleats, kissing your cheek.

"It's okay," you promise him, bending down to fix your son's black hair.

Honggi hugs your neck tightly, kissing your cheek so sweetly that it turns you into a puddle of love.

"What should we name your brother and sister?" Yoongi inquires of your son as he leans both elbows down on the island.

He pops a grape in his mouth, looking at his kid expectantly.

"Pororo... Poby!" Honggi giggles, swaying back and forth.

"Oh yeah, good idea! We can name them after penguins!" Yoongi teases, giving his son a grape.

"Poby is a polar bear." you inform him, stirring the stew.

"Yeah daddy! Bear!" Honggi scoffs, tugging on Yoongi's pants playfully.

"Oh, I'm sorry daddy doesn't know what anthropomorphic animals his son watches while he's at work." your husband murmurs.

"An-Anth-Anthr… Animals!" Honggi gasps and you laugh gently.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, allowing the comfort of being surrounded by his family to enrapture him.

He steps behind you, wrapping his arms around you and your growing stomach.

"I missed you today, little dove." he breathes, kissing your temple.

"You miss me everyday," you state, turning around in his grasp.

"That's true. Because I love you." he coos, pushing some hair back behind your ear.

"I love you too," you giggle, accepting the kiss he gives you.

Since Yoongi became a father he's learned so many things like patience and showing love to his child, the likes of which his younger self never got to see. He wants to give his family the entire world if he can, he wants to give all of you everything you could possibly desire because it was so terribly lacking when he was a kid.

"Dinner isn't going to be ready for a bit." you tell your family.

"But I'm hungry now!" Honggi cries, throwing his head back in a dramatic two year old fashion that both of his parent's laugh at.

"Okay. We'll have yogurt and go play with the Gaesu until Mommy is done cooking." Yoongi announces, picking up his son and slinging him over his shoulder.

"I love you mommy!" Honggi squeals.

"I love you too, bub." you reply, kissing his forehead.

"Give mommy's belly a kiss before we go." your husband instructs, patting his son's backside.

Honggi kisses your growing stomach and you can only snort at your husband's silliness.

"Okay. Now dada!" your son says, clapping.

The CEO kisses your stomach and then your forehead.

"You're gonna wrinkle your suit." you chide him, leaning back against the counter.

"So worth it." he retorts, giving you a gummy smile.

Two years have flown by in the blink of an eye.

There has, of course, been hard work that's been poured into your marriage whether it be for Honggi or just to be able to spend time together but the honeymoon phase has never truly died down.

You bask in each other's company like lizards under the hot sun.

You thrive when you're both together.

It's fate, really.

"He's asleep," Yoongi announces, stepping into your bedroom.

"Oh, nice. It only took two hours instead of three like yesterday." you know you sound sarcastic but it's really true. Honggi never seems to be able to sleep when he needs to, he's hyperactive in waves and thoroughly enjoys spending time with his father.

"Well tonight we read the big bad wolf and then he got scared so I had to calm him down and stay with him until he finally fell asleep." your husband rambles, peeling off his clothes.

You hum in agreement, sitting up gently.

Yoongi's tattoo of the large family tree on his bicep seems to shine in the dull lights of the room and it makes a smile spread over your face.

"How are my other babies?" he inquires, laying down beside you on the bed.

It's no secret that you adored your son and it's no secret that Yoongi wanted you pregnant almost immediately after Honggi was born. He missed your big belly and the closeness it brought the both of you when you were pregnant. But after Honggi was born, your paintings were flying off the art exhibit walls like hot cakes and you needed time to create new works of art.

While your husband had his tantrums and gripes about it, he understood. Being pregnant is difficult and he knows that, so when you told him he had to wait, he begrudgingly accepted it.

Your art was on hold now, with over two hundred pieces out in the world at any given second, you decided to focus on family.

"They're okay," you promise, running your fingers through your hair.

You can remember when you found out you were pregnant again for the second time. All of your symptoms hit so much harder than the first pregnancy.

"Baby? We gotta go. We're gonna be late." Yoongi calls, peeking into the bathroom.

He didn't expect to find you heaving over the toilet but when he does, two things happen simultaneously. There's a sharp bout of worry and a thinner vein of excitement that spread through his bones.

"What's the matter, my dove? You feel sick?" he pouts, entering the bathroom to rub at your back.

You shiver gently, waving your hand to the large gray cabinets beneath your sinks.

"I'm not a mime, I'm sorry." your husband whispers, raising an eyebrow.

"Pr-Pregnancy test," you plead.

He could just about pass out and die from happiness from those two words.

"Really?! You think so?!" he beams, ripping open the doors and tearing open the cardboard box like some sort of rabid animal.

His hands are shaky when he gives you the test and he helps you off of your knees immediately.

His thumbs rub at the tile indentations on your kneecaps and like always he stares up at you like you hang the moon on a string for him each and every night.

"I'm sorry we're late." you whisper, blotting your mouth with toilet paper.

"This is way more important. Fuck that. Jeongguk can wait." Yoongi avows, watching you cap the pregnancy test.

"We probably aren't even going to make it there anyway," your husband breathes.

"Why not?" you inquire, standing up and smoothing out the skirt of your dress.

The CEO wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. "Because if you are pregnant, I'm gonna have to do some celebratory stuff."

You laugh aloud, running your fingers over his arms. "Stuff like what?"

"Like eating your pretty pregnant pussy and fucking your pregnant cunt." he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver at his words, glancing down at the test.

You hope you are pregnant. There's something insane in women's brains which makes them forget just how painful childbirth is so they can always look forward to more.

But the euphoric feeling of having a baby is well worth the pain, that's something you'll always remember.

"God, I think you are pregnant." he hisses, running his hands over your sides.

"Why do you say that?" you ask, tilting your head to look at him.

"You just feel different in my hands."

"I think you're crazy," you retort with a laugh.

"Why?!" he gasps.

"Because you didn't say anything yesterday when we… y'know."

"When we fucked?" he goads, kissing you softly.

You hum in agreement against his lips and he snorts softly.

"You did feel warmer around me." he announces, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

"It should be ready." you inform him, both of your eyes glued to the face down stick.

"Go on, show me that my baby is in you." he urges, kissing your temple.

Your heart races and your fingers begin to shake as you flip over the stick.

Yoongi holds his breath and you find yourself doing the same.

When you flip it over, the plus sign screams at you and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief.

Your husband groans happily, picking you up off the ground and spinning you around.

"Thank you baby, thank you!" he cheers.

When he sets you down on the ground, you can't help the thrilled giggle that seeps from you.

"Should we head out?" you ask your husband softly.

The scoff he gives only seems right. "Yeah, right. I have more important things to celebrate than a boxing match."

You can only squeal when he scoops you up bridal style.

Putting his head on your shoulder, your husband takes a deep, calming breath.

His fingertips dance over your distended skin and his lips traipse over your exposed collarbone.

"You're so gorgeous," he breathes, letting his eyes flutter shut.

The smirk that spreads over your face is goofy and flushed, sometimes you find it astounding that he can even be so sweet with you.

There's a tiny kick beneath his fingertips that makes his head lift off of your body.

"What are you up to in there, guys? Fighting or something?" he gawks, feeling another flurry of taps below his hand.

"They don't have enough room," you announce, lolling your head back to the pillow.

"Well, just four more months and you won't have to be cramped anymore." Yoongi promises, sliding down the bed to kiss your belly.

"We should sleep, we have plans for tomorrow."

"Caleb's first birthday party." Yoongi remembers, drifting his lips over your skin.

You nod in agreement, tucking your hand beneath your head to get comfy.

Your husband knows just how difficult it is for a woman with a set of twins inside of her to fall asleep and he's nothing if not doting.

"Lemme put my babies to sleep," he murmurs, sliding his fingers over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

It's fascinating how the Kisung CEO can make you feel as if black coffee pumps through your veins even when you're completely exhausted.

He watches you avidly, making sure this is something you're up for. When your nipples begin to pebble and strain under the flimsy nightgown that can barely contain your swollen flesh, Yoongi knows he's got the green light.

His eyelids lower with lustful intentions and the tip of his tongue glides slowly over his plump bottom lip.

He knows you're excited for anything and everything when your hips lift expectantly.

Clicking his teeth, he pushes your body back down to the bed. "Easy now, little dove. You should know who's in charge here, baby."

Your whimper sounds like the most earnest plea as it passes through your parted lips and Yoongi can feel his cock straining against his briefs for some semblance of relief.

He kisses at your clothed pussy, already feeling how sodden the material is getting in a matter of seconds.

It continues to astound him, two years in, how willing your body is for him.

"Daddy," you breathe softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

His hands caress whatever he can find whether it be your thighs, your belly, your breasts.

"Wet little slut for me." he murmurs, tugging your panties off with his teeth.

You're quick to discard your nightgown, wanting nothing more to be touched anywhere you can get it.

Your husband hums at the sight of your core, pussy lips puffy and swollen with greedy intentions and slick with arousal.

"There she is," he breathes, kissing over your belly.

Palming your breasts in hand, you understand why he's taking so long -- to drive you insane.

He wants euphoria and adrenaline to course through you like wildfire so when it ebbs away, you'll be completely exhausted.

"My beautiful dove." Yoongi professes, spreading your legs wider.

Your eyes are glued to his abs, the way the muscles contort and constrict with each shallow breath he breathes.

You can thank each and every god everyday for the man you're married to.

You know the hierarchy in this bedroom, it rarely ends up with you on top, but the temptation of his thick, hard cock straining against his Balenciaga briefs has you throwing all cares to the wind.

He hisses gently against your distended skin when you cup his long length with your hand.

Yoongi will be the first to admit that he's missed this. He's been sweet and caring, not wanting to trouble you for sex with you being as huge as you are. He knows two babies are way more difficult than just Honggi. But, he needs you. In every single way.

"Play nice, my dove." he chides you softly, kissing up your belly to your swollen breasts.

You don't heed his words, tugging down the band of his briefs and swallowing thickly when his large cock bobs in the air before smacking up to his toned honey stomach.

His eyes flutter shut at the feeling and you know you've neglected him for too long. His cock is throbbing and needy as sin, beads of precum endlessly spurting from the top and slowly traipsing down the head.

"Baby girl," he gasps when you pump his cock in hand.

Yoongi kisses over your puffy nipples, scoffing at the pleasure that vibrates through him with each jerk.

He coos softly when you bead milk for him and his eyes snap to yours. "You didn't tell me your milk came in."

"I-I didn't know," you chirp, pumping his cock harder.

He shivers then, wrapping his lips around your peaked nub and tugging softly. He groans happily at the distantly familiar taste of your milk and his needy hands grip and massage your thighs as he situates himself further between them.

"Daddy, fuck!" you cry out gently, arching your back.

The tip of your husband's tongue is quick against your sensitive skin and you can only whimper for more.

Your shaking thumb runs circles over the swollen, red mushroom head of his cock and he gasps above you, pressing his forehead into your breast.

"Ba-Baby, this is about you. Please," he begs, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

You give a smirk, feeling high and mighty at how quickly you can break him down to a mere lustful animal.

Your free hand rubs circles to your stomach and he can just about cum at the sight of you.

His cock throbs wildly and he forces your hand off of him with narrowed eyes. "Behave, little dove. I won't say it again."

You hide your smirk, laying back down for him.

He eyes you wearily for a second before continuing his dissent on your body. His fingers caress over your sodden lower lips and his name tumbles from your mouth with a quickness.

"You're messy." he prods, spreading your lips with his fingers and tapping your throbbing bundle of nerves with the pads of his fingers.

Your body jolts, bottom lip tucking between your teeth.

God, you've missed this.

You've missed him doting on you so eagerly.

Yoongi continues to take his time, enjoying how your entrance clenches around nothing.

You're a needy little thing and you're all his. The way it should be.

"Daddy, please!" you beg, rubbing circles over your distended skin.

"What's wrong, beautiful? You're too much of a slut to enjoy this? You want gratification now?" he quips, lowering his head to your core.

You can't even see him over your belly and it drives you absolutely mad. You can feel the puffs of hot, needy breath that pass his lips but it does nothing but earn more dripping arousal from your center.

"Such a pretty pussy you have," he purrs, suckling your swollen lips.

You gasp loudly, screwing your eyes shut.

He plays with your entrance, swirling the tip of his index finger around it until your racking with sobs above him.

Yoongi presses the tip of his tongue to your throbbing clit and he groans gently at the feeling.

"Shhh, my dove. Daddy is going to take care of you, I promise." he avows, lapping at your nub with slow strokes.

It's so pleasurable, but it's not enough. You're on the precipice and he keeps you there for what feels like eternity.

"God! Daddy, please!" you beg, bunching your hands up in his hair and tugging.

He hums in fake confusion, adoring how your body shakes before him.

He's good at the long game.

He thrives in it.

When he slips two fingers inside of your slick cunt, you're about ready to burst but he pulls away from your core with a devilish smirk.

"My pregnant wife is so needy," he jeers, curling his fingers with ease to the soft patch of nerves within you.

Your chest constricts, heaving for breath. Your skin develops a thin sheen of sweat and you feel yourself possibly going insane within his grasp.

Picking his face up between the apex of your thighs, the sight of his soaked chin and cheeks hurdles you to the precipice.

"Wanna cum, need to cum!" you chant, cupping your belly while you grind yourself down onto his fingers.

"You hold it," he orders sweetly.

You can only scoff and the animalistic pride within you snaps.

You sit up, as quickly as you can, before pushing him down on the bed.

"Baby," he warns you, pulling his fingers from your heat and entering them into his mouth.

"I need it!" you whine, straddling him.

His hands immediately hold your hips to protect you from any imminent danger you might face. He goes to chide you but when your soaked cunt glides against his hard, thick length, he can only take a sharp breath between his teeth.

"I missed your cock Daddy, I missed it so much," you whine, rocking your hips.

"Oh Christ," he murmurs, gliding his hands from your hips to the globes of your ass.

With every rock of your hips, your clit thrums pleasantly at the feeling of the head of his cock prodding against the bundle of nerves.

Your shaky hands grip at your breasts, swiping your thumbs against your leaking nipples until your sobbing with pleasure.

"You're so gorgeous, fuck," Yoongi curses, enraptured with the sight above him.

Your eyebrows furrow and you're losing yourself in the pleasure as your mouth drops open.

His hands knead at the supple flesh of your backside before rearing back and spanking you with a fierceness that you adore.

"Yes, more!" you gasp, sitting up and positioning his cock at your entrance.

"You're a little cock slut, you know that?" he seethes, leaning up on his elbows to kiss at your belly.

"Your cock slut, Daddy. I'm yours," you whimper, slowly sitting down on his length.

His mouth opens at the euphoric feeling of your warm, wet cunt sliding down on him and he can only fall back to the bed with a heady thump.

"Shit," he breathes out, looking up at you like you give him the universe.

You do.

You give him everything and anything that exceeds his expectations.

You take a second to adjust to his length, preening as the head of his cock prods against your soft cervix.

"Good girl, little dove." he bleats, running his fingertips over your outer thighs.

Yoongi can see the way you swallow thickly and he can tell how fucked out you already are with your eyelids being as heavy as they are and pride blooms in his chest.

"Want you to suckle," you beg, palming your breasts.

He can only scoff at the arousing thought, he's up in a flash, minding your stomach. His lips pluck and suckle at your sensitive skin until you're shaking like a leaf under his ministrations.

"Your cock feels so big in my pussy, feels so good," you purr, rocking your hips.

He moans against your breast, gripping your hips with needy hands.

The rhythm you set as he suckles from you is slow but the impending orgasm you've been denied comes back in waves. The head of his cock taps against the sweet spot inside of you with each jolt of your hips and you're losing your grasp on reality.

"D-Daddy!" you gasp, letting your brain free of any thoughts besides just how pleasurable he feels inside of you.

"That's it, baby girl. Take it. Take what you need from me." he announces, laying back down.

Your hands push down on his chest as you begin to pick up speed and he can only cry out your name like a man possessed.

"Jesus, just like that, little dove. Fuck!" he curses, spanking the globes of your ass until your skin is smarting.

Then you feel the precipice again, you feel yourself teetering.

Your mouth opens to give a silent scream and your eyes well up with tears.

He coos softly, running his fingers through his hair as if the pleasure he's receiving is truly unbelievable.

You groan loudly, pressing your hands beneath your stomach. "I'm-I'm-"

"Cum for me, little dove. I can feel how badly your cunt wants to milk my cock. Cum." he orders and your gasp echoes throughout the room.

Your hands rub comforting circles to your stomach while your hips rock at an unfound speed.

"Yoongi!" you cry, squeezing your eyes shut.

Then -- euphoria.

Your orgasm explodes within you like a million shards of glass. With deafened ears and tear streaked cheeks, you don't even feel your husband lay you down on your back.

He fucks his cock so deeply inside of you that it brings you back to reality in waves.

"God, you look so beautiful taking what's yours, baby." he coos, sitting up.

You can only cry out gently when his strokes become erratic and deeper.

"You want me to cum inside you? You want to drip with me?" he inquires, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

You nod incessantly, spreading your legs wider when you feel his cock throb within you.

"Yeah? You want to be my little cum slut? Get so full of my cum when you're already pregnant with my babies?" he seethes through his teeth.

"Y-Yes, want to feel your cum so badly," you hiccup, running your hands over his chest.

His eyes screw shut when your hips meet his every stroke.

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming. God, your cunt is incredible!" he whines.

His hips give one last thrust, burying himself as deeply as possible before the warmth of his cum floods through your battered core.

You hum happily, rubbing your belly.

"I love you," he whispers, bending down and planting a passionate kiss to your lips.

"I love you, too." you reply, hooking your hand around the back of his neck.

After cleaning you up and situating yourselves back to normal, Yoongi pulls your body to cuddle against his. His fingers drift over your bare back and he sighs happily.

You're out like a light in mere seconds when you finally get comfy and he can only chuckle at your shallow breaths.

His hand comes to rest beneath his head and he can't begin to express how lucky he feels.

His attention falters to your stomach when he feels a gentle prodding against his hip. He smirks, kissing the top of your forehead and closing his eyes.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and you know better now than to rush to him whenever he shouts for you.

"Yes, baby?" you call to him, fixing your earrings.

"Want to play with Yumi!" he calls, peeking into your bedroom.

"We're going to see Yumi now." you reply, turning to him.

Your eyebrow raises as you look at your husband's spitting image. "Where are your shoes?" you ask your two year old.

"Dada said I don't have to wear them!" he beams, rolling on the floor with your corgi.

"Oh yes you do, you're not going over to Aunt Leena's house with no shoes on." you reply.

When your husband steps into the doorway, he knows he's made a mistake. Just the look you give him makes him want to run and hide.

"What?" he bleats.

Min Yoongi is obsessed with giving his son whatever he wants. He's obsessed with spoiling him and sometimes you have to look like the bad guy.

"He needs to put on shoes." you tell your husband.

Both of your boys frown at you and it's almost so ridiculous that you can barely contain the eye roll.

"Why?" Honggi chirps.

When you place your hand on your stomach, Yoongi nods. "Mommy's right, you need to wear shoes."

He's quick to avoid chastisement today.

"But why, dada?" your son inquires.

You love the 'why' phase… when it's directed at your husband.

"Because your little feet are gonna be cold and because mommy said so. And what did I tell you about when mommy says something?" your husband whispers conspiratorially to your son.

"That you do it! Mama has two babies a-and mad isn't good for babies!" Honggi says, sticking up two small fingers.

You can only snort, shutting the bathroom light off and leaning against the door frame.

"That's right, bud. So let's get you some shoes."

When your husband goes to leave the room, he widens his eyes apologetically at you and you can't help but giggle.

"Silly," you mumble, grabbing your purse.

Caleb's first birthday is a huge deal.

You know how much work his mother put into it and you know that it needs to be over the top and perfect for her to be thriving and happy with the day's events.

"Miss Thing!" Leena gasps, throwing herself out of the door to hug you.

"Hi Beena," you giggle, wrapping your arms around her.

Taehyung is right behind her with a smile plastered on his face.

"Happy birthday Caleb!" you gasp, taking him from Taehyung's arms.

Yoongi kisses your best friend on the cheek before looking over at her one year old son.

"Hey buddy! Happy birthday!" your husband cheers, watching as Caleb tucks his face into your neck.

It's always astounding to see how much of a one eighty Leena has done when it comes to Taehyung and her family.

You remember how adamant she was on not getting pregnant and not getting married but then when you gave birth to Honggi -- she wanted that.

And you completely understood it.

Now that your best friend is married and having a family, you can see how content and happy she is. It's something you're really proud of.

"Everyone is in the backyard." Leena announces, fixing Caleb's small suit.

"Yumi?!" Honggi screeches, looking past Taehyung.

"Yeah, Yumi too." Leena's husband quips with a laugh.

Yoongi snorts, following after his son.

"Miss Thing, I have to tell you, I would have never in a million years thought we'd see him today." your best friend blurts, guiding you into her mansion.

"Who?" you inquire, handing Caleb back to his father.

Leena's hands clamp down on your shoulders and her eyes widen. "Jin."

"Shut the fuck up," you gasp, pulling her towards the backyard.

There are a multitude of people in the backyard but your eyes find his tall, handsome stature easily.

He's standing by the fountain with his wife by his side and he looks in his element.

It's been months since you've seen your other best friend.

You aren't really sure why he dropped off the face of the Earth. You know he's probably been busy, you all have been.

But you know Leena has taken it the hardest. Jin has always meant something deeply to her so when he didn't return phone calls or texts… you know it burned her.

It's almost as if he feels your eyes on him the way he turns to look at you.

He gives you a warm smile, immediately leaving his wife to make his way across the large backyard.

Yoongi notices how your eyes get glassy when he looks away from Honggi and Jimin's daughter, Yumi. "Jimin, watch him." he orders, leaving to comfort you.

Now, Yoongi doesn't hate Jin, by any means. He respects him and in all honesty, appreciates him for helping him in his dire time of need.

But the CEO will be damned if he doesn't coddle you, his pregnant wife, to his side when you're emotionally distraught.

Seokjin is wary when he sees your husband loop his hand around your hip protectively.

"Shhh," Yoongi coos, hearing your gentle sniffles.

Leena on the other hand, just folds her arms, widening her eyes expectantly at your best friend.

"Hey guys," he bleats, running his hand over the back of his neck.

"That's it? All we get is a 'hey guys' from you?" Leena scoffs.

Jin blushes furiously, cupping his whisky tighter in his hand. "What do you want me to say, Beena?"

"How about a sorry, Kim Seokjin? That'll be the start. Then you can veer off into how apologetic you are for pushing us into the background for her." Leena sneers, nodding her head to Sera.

You take in how nervous Jin is and you absolutely hate it. You hate how small he's making himself look.

"I am sorry." he agrees, grabbing for your hands.

"Maybe you guys should take this inside," Taehyung whispers, looking over the party guests who have stopped their conversations to look over at all of you.

Leena doesn't even give an answer, only trudging back into her mansion with narrowed eyes.

Taehyung clears his throat awkwardly, walking with his son towards Jimin and Anna.

"Do you want me to stay?" Yoongi inquires, brushing some hair back behind your ear.

You nod immediately, wanting the comfort of your husband with you.

"Alright, my love." he promises, kissing your temple.

Seokjin chases after Leena and you can only sigh at the impending yelling you're about to hear.

"Miss Thing, please sit." Leena gushes, pointing to the couch inside the library.

You take a seat, watching Jin wade back in forth nervously like he's waiting for a scolding.

"Did you know that Y/N is pregnant again? That she's having twins?" Leena spits.

"Yes, I did. I'm very happy for her and her husband." Seokjin replies, helping you sit down.

Yoongi pours himself a small glass of scotch, draping his arm over your shoulders.

"Do you fucking understand how sorely you've been missed?" Leena inquires to the handsome man as she sits down across from you.

Seokjin clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, I-I do."

"Then where have you been?" you prod, folding your arms.

Your best friend leans back against the large wooden desk. "Listen guys, I've missed you guys so deeply. I need you to know this, okay? I'm sorry that I've been absent from your kids and your lives. I've been dying to spend time with you all."

"Okay. Then where have you been?!" Leena yelps, repeating your question.

Jin takes a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter shut. "I've been trying to start my own family. It's not easy! I've been taking Sera all over the world to different doctors and hospitals to try and see why she can't get pregnant! I've been depressed and down on myself until recently. I'm fucking sorry I abandoned you guys but I needed time to heal my heart."

The news resounds in your ears and you cuddle closer to your husband who rubs your shoulder with his thumb soothingly.

The smugness is wiped off of Leena's face within a second.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she whispers softly.

Jin's fingers card through his hair and with a frustrated huff, he lolls his head back.

"Because it's…it's heartbreaking and not what I want to bring to the table when you guys have families and lives already. I don't want to burden you guys with my troubles." he mumbles, spinning his wedding band with his thumb.

You take a sharp breath between your teeth, standing with the help of your husband who urges you to be careful.

"Jin," you whisper, hugging him tightly.

He stiffens at your touch before wrapping his arms around you. He sobs gently, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"I did miss you guys, so much. I'm sorry," he cries loudly.

"You don't have to hide your feelings from us. You should feel comfortable to tell us anything and everything. I'm sorry if you didn't trust us enough with your worries." you murmur into his ear.

"No! I just… I was scared, I didn't want to trouble you both." he breathes, pulling away and cupping your face.

"Jinnie," Leena pouts, standing up and hugging the both of you.

"You're never a bother to us, don't ever think that." you coo, fixing his hair.

He takes a deep, calming breath, running his hands over your belly. "One of your kids is kicking me in the ribs." he mumbles.

You can only giggle, patting your eyes with a tissue.

"That's the least you deserve for not trusting us with your fears," Leena scolds him gently.

He nods, exhaling sharply until his cheeks are puffing out.

"So is she?" your best friend asks him.

"What?" he mumbles.

"Is she pregnant?" Leena inquires.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, tilting his head. "Something like that."

Your eyes drift slowly over the perfectly manicured lawn watching Honggi offer to share a toy truck with Yumi. His smile is the spitting image of Yoongi’s and it makes you sigh happily. You lean against the arm of the lawn chair, resting your hand against your cheek.

You can barely believe how happy you’ve become over the past two years.

Everything just falls into the right place, everything just fits like a perfect complete puzzle.

Honggi turns to you, flailing his hand wildly and you can only giggle. Waving back, your heart expands to the size of the universe.

Yoongi laughs at something loudly, drawing your attention. You watch him sling his arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and you can only snort at the sight.

You can remember when you never heard his laugh, you didn’t know what it sounded like for quite a while and then… once he began to laugh, it never seemed to end.

That’s something you revel in, your husband’s happiness is yours well.

It gives you great pride to see him beaming from ear to ear. And you don’t think it often but -- you got him here. You got him to this state of happiness.

It’s your best artwork, yet.

“Hey Y/N.”

You look away from your husband to the one person you’d never thought you’d speak to.

“Sera… hey,” you breathe, looking up at her flawless form.

“H-How are you?” she inquires, sipping her water nervously.

You haven’t seen here in two years. She looks good, that isn’t hard for her. Something about her seems calmer and more poised then when you knew her.

“Can I sit?” she asks gently, running her hand over the back of her neck.

“Please,” you insist, sitting up straighter.

You can feel eyes on you and you can only imagine who it is but you don’t dare look away from the actress before you.

While you weren’t her biggest fan, she’s made Jin happy over the past two years and you can’t fault her for that. He hasn’t loved anyone since Leena and you can see that his heart has bloomed since being with this woman.

“No drink?” you quip, pointing at her water.

“I thought, y’know, since my surrogate can’t drink then I shouldn’t either.” she shrugs.

You don’t know what to say if you’re being honest. It must be a sore subject…

“Yeah-” you breathe awkwardly.

“I’m not upset about it, we can talk about it.” she announces, putting her hand to your shoulder.

Sera in all the time you’ve known her has never touched you and you’re surprised at how normal it is, honestly.

“I’m sorry that you… y’know… you’ve had a difficult time.” you say honestly.

You can’t imagine how hard Sera and Jin have been trying, how many hospitals and specialists they’ve gone to, how much heartbreak they’ve gone through.

“At least I’m getting a baby at all, right? I always used to be so angry about the whole situation… Maybe that’s why I was so mean to you.” she admits, carding her fingers through her long, now blonde hair.

You hum thoughtfully, looking up at the dusky sky. “I mean it mustn't have been easy for you either. I came into Yoongi’s life and flipped it upside down. You were comfortable with the situation and I just spun things around like a top.”

“Well… yeah, true. But if you didn’t come into Yoongi’s life then I wouldn’t have been able to become a better person and find the person that’s right for me.” she avows, looking over at you.

Her words resound through you and your eyes widen just the slightest bit. She’s really different these days, huh?

“Well, I came over to say I’m sorry for treating you terribly the whole first time you were pregnant, it was in bad taste and I was so selfish back then that I couldn’t begin to understand how horrible that could be for you.”

“I accept your apology.” you reply, giving her a small smile.

She breathes a sigh of relief, letting her body go lax in the chair beside you. “Oh good, I was so nervous to talk to you. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack or something.” she gasps.

You find yourself giggling and she snorts softly.

“You’re kid is cute,” she comments, watching him run over to you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, widening your eyes at Honggi curiously as he stops in front of you.

“Mama!” he cheers, holding up his paint covered fingers.

“Yes, baby?” you murmur, pushing his hair back.

“I’m painter like you! Look!” he squeals, tugging your hand.

You look over at Sera apologetically, standing up to follow your son.

“It was nice to see you Sera, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” you call back to her.

She smiles warmly, giving you a gentle wave goodbye.

Jin could have done worse.

Lowering your head, you look at the picture that your son has painted. The fingerpaint is thick and blobbish but you can see a few distinct shapes that stick out to you.

You don’t say anything at first, letting him finish a few small details that he thinks are important. He gives you his gummy smile, seemingly proud of himself and it makes you smile too.

“It’s very nice, baby. I can see how much work you put into it.” you coo.

“It’s mama and dad, Honggi and baby!” he beams, picking up the picture which is almost too heavy for him with all the paint on it.

Your husband sweeps in beside you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek and taking the painting out of your hands.

“Mommy is having two babies, not just one.” Yoongi reminds him, pointing at your stomach.

Honggi nods fervently, opening and closing his small hands demanding the picture back from his father.

Your husband snorts gently, lowering the picture for his son. You can barely contain the ridiculous giggle that tries to escape you as he draws a black circle next the one already painted.

"Two!” he cheers, sticking up two of his paint covered fingers.

“Good job, bud.” Yoongi chuckles, kissing the top of his head.

“I saw that interaction. You okay?” your husband inquires softly into your ear.

You hum in agreement, wrapping your arm around his waist and laying your head down on his shoulder. “Better than okay,” you murmur, feeling his lips caress over the top of your head.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Yoongi inquires, pulling over the car.

You can’t help but laugh at his worried expression. “He’s fine,” you promise, putting your hand on his knee, “we can go out on a date without him around us all the time. Maya’s got it. Honggi loves her.”

He shuts off the engine, turning to you with a pout spread over his face. “I just miss him, I didn’t get to read him a bedtime story.”

Your heart is warm and you can’t help the giggle you give. “It’s our anniversary, besides it’s just for a few hours.”

He picks up your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Happy anniversary, little dove.”

“Happy anniversary, babe.” you reply, with a smile.

The inside of Magic Shop is pristine like always, you’re so surprised that Jin has kept it exactly the same as two years ago. He always loved to change things up but you realize that he probably got so busy since you’ve last been here, he probably hasn’t had time for anything.

The music is quieter than normal and there isn’t a soul in the club. Which makes you understand immediately that Yoongi rented the whole place out.

“You shouldn’t have,” you hiss, giving Hyun a small wave.

“Of course I should have, you deserve the world, baby. Plus, loud music isn’t good for the babies,” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

Your eyes immediately land on the black velvet curtain and the memories of first meeting Yoongi flood through you like water.

“Thanks,” your husband murmurs, grabbing a whisky from Hyun.

When you pull back the curtain, you can only smile at the same leather booth from that fated day.

“Jesus, it even smells the same in here.” Yoongi breathes, running his fingers over the top of the couch.

This room holds so many memories for you but nothing beats the one with your husband.

“God, it’s like it was yesterday. I can still remember that black dress you were wearing,” your husband chirps, sitting down in the same spot he did two years ago.

He pats his lap, setting down his whisky onto the floor and you’re absolutely gobsmacked by how much this feels like dejavu.

“I’m a little big,” you murmur, sitting down slowly.

“Never, you’re gorgeous, little dove.” Yoongi coos, wrapping his arms around you.

His warm hands caress your practically bare thighs and when he looks at you, you can see the sheer love and devotion in his eyes.

“My little dove,” he breathes, drifting his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

You can remember just how smoking hot you thought this man was, how intrigued you were by him in an instant. You remember every single second of your time in this back room. You remember every minute of your days when you found out you were pregnant and how absolutely scared you were.

You can remember his good times and his bad when he was working out his feelings about you.

Nothing has left your mind and you treasure each and every memory -- because they make up who you are. They make up your life.

And it’s perfect. Because you have him.

“You were a good girl that I wanted to break so badly,” your husband announces, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Well… you did that,” you quip, humming when he presses his face to the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, little dove, really. Thank you so much for loving me and giving me such a wonderful family,” Yoongi gasps.

“Thank you for opening up to me and showing me that our love could blossom into something as perfect as this.” you reply, running your fingertips over his arms.

When he lifts his head, you can see how glassy his eyes are with tears.

“God, I love you, little dove.” he whimpers.

“I love you too.” you reply, kissing him softly.

His lips are plush and soft against yours and you can feel the tears that careen down his cheeks until they’re soaking into your skin. He’s so gentle with you, drifting his hands from your back to your distended stomach.

“My wife,” he chuckles, capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger, “my beautiful, gorgeous, powerful wife who has given me enough love to last eons. I love you so much, little dove, it hurts me.”

There are one hundred and fifty eight ways to say ‘I love you.’ And, they all pertain to Min Yoongi.

He’s a gentle soul and a loving husband that holds high standing with billions of people worldwide. He is sweet, wonderful and a perfect man at the end of the day. And now, everyone sees this side to him.

In the media he is praised and renowned for being a fantastic father and an equally fantastic husband. And to you, nothing could ever be more true,

It was March 23rd, when you saw him and met him. You tasted the finest of liquors and smelt the smoke of the richest Cuban cigars.

It was March 23rd when your life had truly begun.

Third Wheeling Taglist - @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykrueger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx, @bt21chim, @flowerboyhobi, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

#third wheeling #final chapter #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #ceo!yoongi #ceo!au #ceo!bts #min yoongi #yoongi smut #pregnant smut #bts fic

806 notes · View notes

atalho-s · 3 years

Text

Light Up The Dark

Part 4 | No matter how it ends

pairing: bartender!tom x famous!reader

warnings: smut +18 miniors dni, swear words?, drinking, mention of anxiety crisis, let me know if anything else!

words: 2.8 k

a/n: english it’s not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake! If you want to be tagged in the next chapters let me know!!

PART 4 if you want to read other parts click here!

Y/n opened her eyes slowly. A wind blew in through the window along with the sunlight that hit her bare back lightly. She lifted her head and looked around her: she was in a room that wasn't hers, in a bed that wasn't hers. Suddenly memories of the night before invaded her mind. She had actually gone to the waiter's apartment after an anxiety attack, it hadn't been a dream after all.

She realized she was alone in bed, for a moment she thought Tom had left her again, just like he had last time. But she smelled coffee from somewhere and the noise of someone stirring something in the kitchen. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and reached for a t-shirt that was on the floor wearing her next.

She went to the bathroom and after a few minutes she came back to the bedroom a little afraid. She was doubtful whether she stayed or simply wore her clothes from the night before and left. She didn't want to disturb Tom in his routine and at the same time she didn't know how to behave after having slept with him again, after all it was the first time she truly slept with him on the same bed and wake up together, the last two times she didn't have to deal with it.

She decided to go to the kitchen, if he wanted to throw her out then so be it. She went down the hall and stopped at the door facing a scene that made her smile: Tom was preparing pancakes and putting them on a plate over the sink, whistling some music. He was wearing only sweatpants, no shirt and his hair a little messy, which made her smile even more at how wonderful he looked.

- Is this all this for me? - she asked making him startle a little turning towards her. He looked her up and down smiling right away and leaving her shy.

- Sure sweetheart. - He said taking the last pancake and turning off the fire. - And this all is for me? - He asked turning and leaning on the counter of the sink looking at her.

-Dork... - she said, crossing her arms and avoiding looking at him. - I hope you didn't mind borrowing one of your shirts.

- No problem darling... Besides, you look great in it. - He said raising a suggestive eyebrow and Y/n smiled, leaning away from the door and sitting in one of the benches.

- I'm flattered... Well, you're also are looking very good with your cooker... - She looked at him again, analyzing his bare chest. - Style...- She finished the sentence and he smirked approaching with the plate of pancakes and taking a cup of coffee, placing it in front of her right away.

- Thank you Miss Y/n Y/l/n, writer of Well of Truths and Curse of 18th House. - He said making a small bow making Y/n laugh.

- Hm... - she said eating a piece of her pancake. - You know about my books now?

- Let's say I did some research... - he said taking a sip from his cup. - You know, I wanted to know if you weren't the owner of a mafia or something to have so much money, maybe I was sleeping with the enemy. - He said sawing his eyes and she rolled hers laughing.

- Of course, of course... - she said also taking a sip of her coffee. - And did you read it?

- Not yet... I'm terrible at reading, but I confess that the synopses are very interesting and a little terrifying.

- They're not THAT terrifying... If I gave you a copy of them you'd read them? - She asked looking at him and Tom smiled.

- I think it's a good idea darling... - he said eating a piece of pancake looking at her intently. - Are you already planning our next date?

- That's not what I meant…- she said feeling her cheeks heat up. - Just... I mean...- Y/n wanted to beat himself up because he was getting lost in words like that.

- I know what you mean... I'm just messing with you. - He said smiling even more openly.

-Ha-ha... Very funny -she said ironically. - Just because you saved me yesterday I'll give you a discount. - She said putting a strand of her hair behind her ear.

- Speaking of that... Are you feeling better? - he asked now in a serious tone.

- Yes I am... - Y/n said sighing. - It was just a scare, I should already be used to all this, but anyway, thank you for helping me... - she said finishing her coffee.

- No need to thank me for anything, and you don't have to get used to it, because what they did was wrong so don't feel guilty for feeling bad... - he said looking at her getting up and going to the sink.

- Yes, you are right. But, I don't know, sometimes I wanted to be invisible somehow, not have to deal with any of that. - She said with her back to him washing her dishes and Tom approached her.

- Darling…- he said in a low voice putting his arms around her waist and leaning his chin on her shoulder. - I'm sorry you feel that way... - he give a small kiss on the curve of her shoulder and neck making her shiver. -But think on the bright side...-now he was kissing her neck. -I'll be here to distract you from these moments...-he finished kissing below her ear.

- So... - Y/n started to say, finishing washing her mug and drying her hands on a towel. - You mean I'll be able to use you whenever I want?- she asked now turning towards him and putting her arms around his neck, while Tom still had his hands on her waist. Y/n bit her lip watching him closely and he smiled.

- I'm at your disposal love... - he replied tilting his head to the side and taking a small bite on her neck, making Y/n moan involuntarily. Tom then squeezed her waist tightly and pressed his lips to hers, giving her a breath-taking kiss. She couldn't deny it. He was her addiction, his touch was like anesthesia for her skin and it scared her, but in a good way.

After a few minutes kissing Y/n pulled back a bit and he continued kissing her face and neck while she closed her eyes.

- Tom... I need to confess something... - she said between sighs. - I mean... It's weird, but...- He stopped kissing her and looked at her closely, paying close attention. - I kind of... I feel inspired when... - she started to say, but was embarrassed to continue, especially since he was looking at her so closely.

- When what? - He said smiling encouraging her to continue.

- When... We got... You know? - She said wanting to hit herself for looking like a embarrassed teenager.

- When we fuck? - Tom said raising an eyebrow smirking and Y/n wanted to die because he said out loud.

- Well... Yes... - she replied, averting her eyes from his and running her hand over his bare chest lightly, making Tom put one of his hands that was on her waist higher, lifting his shirt a little.

- What do you mean inspired? - he still smiled and approached his face to hers.

- When we... have sex... I kind of get inspired to write... I mean, I know it's weird... But, I kind of tested it and when we didn't, my block comes back and well... .When we did yesterday, today I woke up with even more ideas for my book... And that's exactly what happened the other times too... So... - she said and Tom looked at her curiously. For a moment she felt pathetic for saying that, it sounded crazy, but that was what was happening and she needed to tell him that.

- Got it... So you mean I'm your... - he said making a thoughtful face. - Sex amulet or something? - He gave her a little chuckle.

- Well... Yeah, I think it's like that... - Y/n said shrugging. She didn't know if he was just making fun of her, or if he even believed what she was talking about, but at the moment she didn't care.

-Hm... So you're stuck with me darling...-he said giving her a peck and taking her leg up to his waist. - Because, how will you manage to finish your newest best seller? - he said smiling and Y/n felt her breath quicken.

He was right. She was stuck with him, she had no escape. And to tell the truth she was enjoying it, she loved having him whenever she want to escape her writer’s block. In fact, she loved having him anytime, period. Even though she didn't know much about him, he still made her feel good and that was what mattered.

- Yeah... I think you're right... - Y/n said passing her hands from his chest to the back of his head. -I think I'll have to use you until I finish...-she said smiling looking into his eyes.

- You can use me all you want sweetheart. - He said husky close to her mouth and then colliding his lips again kissing her intensely while Y/n tangled her fingers between his already messed hair, making Tom squeezed her leg viciously and pulling her closer.

But as they were making out a low song started to play, causing Y/n to stop kissing Tom after a few seconds.

- I think it's my phone. - she said softly, numb as Tom now attacked her neck.

-Let it ring...-he said against her skin and y/n bit her lip.

-I can't, it could be important...- She said pushing him lightly and Tom snorted stopping kissing her.

- Ok, ok... - he said releasing her and she left his arms towards the sound coming from the room.

After searching for a few seconds she ended up finding her phone under her clothes on the floor and answered it without seeing who it was.

- Hello?

- Finally! I thought you had died, been kidnappe or something like that! - Milla yelled on the other side and Y/n made a face.

- Milla! Sorry! I got distracted...

- Distracted? Sure... I've been calling you a thousand years ago!You forgot your interview today? By the way, are you ready? - She said and Y/n put her hand on her forehead. She had completely forgotten about the interview she had today with one of the most reputable magazines in the country. It would be to talk about her career and promote the movie that would come out about her book, things she wasn't prepared to talk about.

- Milla... Sorry... I really forgot... But give me 15 minutes and I will be there in the studio ok? - Y/n said picking up her clothes from the floor with her phone hanging.

- Ok 15 minutes and nothing more young lady! -she replied andYS/n laughed at how she looked like her mother.

- Okay, okay... See you in a bit. - She said hanging up the phone and then pulling her dress over her head. She sat up in bed and grabbed her sandals and looked up to see Tom watching her leaning against the door.

- Going so early? - He said pouting and if Y/n wasn't so professional she would drop all her tasks for the day just to stay there.

- Yeah... I forgot I had an interview today... - she said finishing putting on her sandals and getting up taking the rest of her things.

- Sometimes I forget that you are little famous... - he said smiling and Y/n approached, facing him.

- Hey! Watch your mouth, my book will even become one of the best movies ever made. - She said jokingly making face of diva and passing him, going to the front door with Tom laughing following her.

- Okay, the best writer in the universe. -He said taking her arm making her turn towards him. He smiled pulling her closer and kissing her one last time.

- Hm... - Y/n said against his lips. - Enough, otherwise they'll kill me. - She said separating their lips and moving away from him.

- Wait! How are we gonna find each other if I don't have your number darling? - Tom asked while Y/n press the button of the elevator.

- Don't worry Romeo, I have contacts... - Y/n said winking and Tom smiled with the nickname, shaking his head. The elevator arrived and she walked in seeing the door close not taking her eyes off him.

She smiled to herself. She just didn’t prove her "theory" but she even had told him about it. He made her so comfortable that she felt she could talk to him about anything, that he would never judge her. Even though he was completely full of himself, even though he enjoyed seeing her embarrassed in his presence, she felt that he would never do anything to hurt her. Even though she didn’t know nothing about his personal life. And to tell you the truth, it was better to leave this way, at least for now. She didn't know where this was going, so the less she knew about him, the better.

After nearly half an hour she was in the recording studio listening to Milla freaking out about her being late. Y/n was sitting in a chair while one of the assistants dried her hair and someone else was doing her makeup.

- Girl, where were you last night? You said you would prove a theory and then it just disappeared? - Milla said curiously after a while and Y/n smiled discreetly.

-Mil... I'll tell you everything later, because it's a long story...-she replied while Milla was checking her phone.

-Well...- she said looking at the screen. - I think it's a really long story, because... - she said making a face and Y/n turned a little confused.

- What? What was it?

- There are pictures of you all over twitter... And on gossip sites too... - she said giving her the phone for Y/n to see and she took it from her hand, feeling a shiver. For a moment she had even forgotten about yesterday's mess.

She knew her photos from the night before were going to be on the internet, but even so, she still felt a shiver from seeing it. The headlines talked about how she had "run away" from fans and her picture was stamped all over the covers. Not only did her face appear, but Tom's as well, leading her to the back of the bar. At least nowhere said they knew each other, just said he was just a local employee who had "saved" her from the crowd of fans.

- I knew this was going to happen... - she said taking a deep breath and handing the phone back to Milla.

- And you don't tell me anything? Are you okay? Where did you go after all this mess? - Milla asked and one of the assistants entered the room asking Y/n to accompany him to the interview room.

- Mil, I'm fine, it was just a little scare ... I'll tell you everything after ok? - She said standing up and following the assistant leaving Milla with a raised eyebrow looking at her.

She knew that all it would explode, for a moment she was afraid to expose Tom to all of this, as much as she liked to be with him, she was afraid to put him in that whole mess. She would have to be a lot cautious now, no matter how that "relationship" would ended.

taglist: @petesrparker @usuck @cam-blog98 @lolooo22

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x famous!reader #bartender!tom #waiter!tom #waiter!tom x reader #tom holland series #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x writer!reader

73 notes · View notes

katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

Note

General #7

Hiiii! Okay, well I bet you thought I forgot about this! Or, more than likely, you forgot you even requested this back in Decemeber. But never fear, my child. I remembered and have been thinking of this fic and what to write for months.

And so I’m so sorry, I’m a total perfectionist and I started and discared like 3 ideas for this before deciding on this oneshot sooo if this sucks, I’m at least comforted by the fact that I accomplished something in writing this itself? That sentence made zero sense but... I’m tired 🤷🏼‍♀️😅.

Prompt : General # 7 :

“Is that blood?”

“Yes but that doesn’t matter right now, what does matter is-”

“You are literally bleeding.”

Anyways, thank you for the prompt and here we go!

Whispers Of Light

I don't know exactly how I got roped into this. How exactly Delly Cartwright, Peeta's best friend—and alright, my friend now too—managed to convince me to help her and Leevy and about three dozen other members of the community with sorting boxes.

Sorting boxes. Organizing contents. Decorating with "found treasures".

The type of activities Prim loved doing with our mother. The type of activities I refused to do after my father died, to punish my mother for her depression.

The type of activities I now kick myself for walking out on, that I'll never be able to take back. I'll never be able to get those moments back with my sister. I'll never know what those hours between her and our mother entailed, because I chose to exclude myself, just so I could hold onto my petty anger for something that was out of all our control.

Maybe that's why I agreed to help Delly and the others with sorting through boxes upon boxes of debrief, of the items that scarcely survived Twelve's bombing almost two years ago. Maybe I only agreed out of guilt, both for never doing this type of endeavor with my sister and for being the direct cause of the bombing itself.

But whatever my reasons were, I agreed to help nonetheless, and I always follow through my promises. If there was one part of me forged in the war, if only one minor aspect of me was amplified in the smoke and haze and blood of revolution, it was the importance of keeping your promises, against all odds.

The dire consequences of a broken promise has long lasting aftereffects, beyond anything either Haymitch or I wish to dwell on.

"Katniss!" Delly calls, holding up an old, half-ripped paper book that is completely void of a front cover. "Look! I think this book is from the old Apothecary Shop!"

I squint at the dusty, decimated item, not entirely convinced. "I don't think so?" I murmur, unable to even decipher the words on the now melted, conjoined pages. "I'm pretty sure my mother kept the only apothecary book in her family?"

Kanon Bagley turns to inspect the battered item in his girlfriend's hands as well. "I don't think this is a medicinal plant book, Dells," he says sheepishly, a small smirk playing on his lips.

She gives him an incredulous look. "What do you mean medicinal?"

I peer up at him too, not comprehending his meaning any more than Delly. "What kind of plants do you think are in here?" I ask, taking the nearly destroyed object myself and flipping through the worn pages again, seeing odd herbs that neither of my parents ever mentioned or had on hand. "These don't look like the poisonous ones my father told me about?"

Kanon bites back a laugh now and I can't help feeling a little perturbed. As kind and soft-spoken as he usually is, I'm foreign to the feeling of him laughing at me. "What?" Delly snaps at him before I even can.

He still chuckles though, in spite of both our nasty glares. "You guys, it's a book of plants that'll get you high."

It takes a full minute for the meaning to dawn on me. Long enough that Leevy and a couple guys I used to go to school with come over to inspect the book as well. Long enough that they confirm Kanon's assessment just as I realize we're talking about plants that'll make you feel akin to how the morphling made me feel while confined for I killing Coin.

While everyone else snickers—and Delly full on chortles—I pass the book back to Kanon, sliding out of the crowd and moving towards a brand new box of savaged items.

It's not that the mention of plant-based drugs is a trigger for me. It's not something I ever truly gave any thought to before, to be honest. My father likely knew of them but it's not like he was about to bestow that kind of knowledge on his eleven-year-old and my mother perhaps felt it was inappropriate to mention.

No, it wasn't the subject in itself that hit a sore spot for me. But like so many times before, it's where the subject led my mind. It's where the topic took me back to.

Snow's Execution Day. The day I chose to kill President Coin instead. Being thrown back into my old tribute room. Getting high on the morphling.

Trying to forget all that I'd lost. Trying to forget my little sister becoming a human torch before my very eyes. My district engulfed in flames. The ambiguous loss of my best friend.

The connection between me and Peeta that I believed then would be permanently severed. That I believed then to be irreparable.

I suppose I believed then I was irreparable too.

And I miss Peeta suddenly, even more than I already did. Because he always knows what to say when my thoughts turn dark, when I'm suddenly triggered out of the happy, every day events and suctioned backwards to a war torn bird with her wings clipped.

But he's not here to talk me down or scare away the ghosts haunting my mind. He's not here to comfort me or even shoot me a supportive glance. No, he's at his very busy business today.

Peeta's bakery—the Mellark Bakery—has only proven to withstand the test of time these past few months. Since someone accidentally burned down the place, with nothing more than a croissant and a fancy Capitol toaster, the rebuilt bakery has been nothing but a success.

And also extremely time-consuming, I grumble internally, as I begin to pull out stuffed toys that once belonged to dead children.

"If any of those are still intact, we can donate them to the community home," Leaf John says as he opens the box across from me.

"And what exactly are we supposed to be use as decorations from these boxes?" I murmur, peering into another cardboard container, full of half-charred papers and cloths.

The general idea of today, as Delly had pitched it to me last week, was to help the community of Twelve finally sort through these boxes, donate what we could to those in need and decorate the new Justice Building with the leftover contents inside.

Somehow though I can't imagine pinning up terrible drawings of plants that'll inebriate you or headless teddy bears is going to bode well with the district.

Delly rolls her eyes in my direction—a whole new kind of response that I never thought I'd be receiving from the girl who skipped through the town square until she was fourteen years old—before nodding towards boxes on top of the ladder. "We're decorating the Justice Building with the surviving photos from those boxes, Katniss."

"Oh." Then why am I sorting these grimy, dirt-covered playthings? Why didn't anyone give me more clear instructions on today?

And why has it taken almost two years for Twelve to get a group of people together to organize the surviving items from the bombing?

I have no idea how Peeta's managed to get two bakeries built in the time it's taken for thirty-eight of us to come to the Justice Building and look through fifty cardboard boxes. And if I'm being honest, I have no idea why I'm even still here helping. I'm clearly not contributing much to the event. There's definitely more than enough volunteers without me.

And, of course, I could be at the bakery right now. Without a doubt, I'd be of more service there than I am here, digging through dusty knickknacks. I could be helping Peeta and Thom and the other part-time employees, exerting more knowledge and authority than I have here.

After all, Peeta did say the bakery was partially mine. In his mind, at least.

The ulterior motive of getting small, fleeting moments with my boyfriend, of basking in the feeling of safety with him beside me, of the occasional stolen kiss or hand squeeze when no one is looking, runs through the back of my mind.

And sways my decision immensely.

I open my mouth to tell Delly and the others that I'm about to head out, that they clearly have it covered here and I'm just in the way, when at the worst possible second, Leevy kindly murmurs, "Katniss, do you mind starting on the box on the ladder? Seeing if any of the pictures are in decent enough shape?"

I hesitate for a long moment, realizing immediately my predicament. It'd be rude to leave right after someone just essentially assigned me a task. I did agree to be here today, to help out with this tedious project. Leaving right now would only come off as rude and inconsiderate.

This is the reason I never did enjoy group assignments in school. The longer I'm here, the more I'm rediscovering this fact about myself. The division of the workload, the bore of the standing around, not knowing if you're doing the right or wrong thing, the lack of total control.

But I still nod after waiting a beat too long and agree with the nicest flare in my tone I can manage.

I'll go through the one box at the top of the ladder and then subtly make my exit afterwards. The image I unintentionally conjured up of Peeta and the bakery is still pulling at me, making me anxious to get back to him, to see him again even though we were together only three hours ago.

Since we officially became a couple a few months back—though Haymitch scoffs at that notion, claiming we've been together since Peeta first started sleeping over in my bed—I've found myself growing far more clingy to him than I ever could have anticipated. I hate when he leaves for the bakery in the mornings now, even as I still revel in the solace I find inside the woods. I look forward to his return home every night. More than even look forward to it, I'm usually at the bakery around the closing hours, helping him clean and inventory, asking him when he's coming home. Maybe looking somewhat unconsciously flirtatious as I say it.

I grab the box sitting on the ladder's top stair and pull it open, easily maintaining my balance one rung down, the same way I maintain my balance on a tree branch while hunting.

Inside pours out a plethora of photographs, mostly of Twelve's now past citizens. Near the top of the pile I see images of Greasy Sae's daughter, Dolly. The mother of her granddaughter. The daughter who died of croup a few years before the war.

Those photos must belong to Sae, I realize. Which means more of her items are probably scattered throughout the boxes here. And despite the fact that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she'll tell me not of be impractical, that if she's made it two years without these things she doesn't need them now, I still make a mental note to return her lost items. If nothing else, I make a mental promise to give back to her the photos of her daughter.

I know better than anyone what kind of comfort photographs of the deceased can provide.

As if in line with my thoughts, as if I alone manifested it somehow, the next image that catches my eye is one I entirely do not anticipate.

It's a shiny photo, on the kind of glossy paper my family could never afford. In the image is a blonde man with broad shoulders and a tall build. Wrapped in his embrace stands a petite girl, with long blonde curls and mascara accentuating her already long lashes. The couple both have eyes that match the color of the sky and are dressed up in some of the nicest clothes in all of Twelve. A white dress with lace. A gray suit with a black vest. The pretty girl wears jewelry and lipstick and there's a familiar glint in the male's eyes and I find myself mesmerized.

And I can't pretend I don't see my boyfriend in both of their faces. I can't pretend Peeta isn't the spitting image of both his parents.

He has his mother's smile, I realize with startling assurance. I never saw the witch smile personally, at any point in my life so I suppose I wouldn't know where he got his charming, sweet grin from.

The mannerism looks so out of place on his mother. The kind smile Peeta has, the one that could light up a blackened sky, doesn't bode with the woman in the picture, even on her wedding day. The charming smile doesn't fit with what I know of the woman's character. With what little about her Peeta chooses to share.

But I'm even more surprised to find how much Peeta has come to resemble his father. How much Peeta has grown to favor the now deceased man.

The last time I saw the baker—the original baker, that is. Haidon Mellark—before the Quarter Quell, I resented the fact that Peeta wasn't as tall or as broad as his father. I privately believed if he'd inherited those traits, he'd be even more likely to win the games again and I could worry about him less.

Peeta was always taller than me and was always remarkably strong, after working in the bakery since childhood. But his father was a whole different level. Haidon Mellark, I'd forgotten until now, had a body that could only rival my own father's.

And as it turns out, Peeta did inherit Haidon's physicality. He just also happened to be a late bloomer. Like his mother, I imagine, staring at her tiny frame in the picture.

The change in Peeta's form occurred so gradually I barely even noticed until a couple months ago, when I woke up with my head against his heart and abruptly realized just how broad he had become. Until I couldn't even reach to kiss his jaw on my tip toe. Until he started laughing at me and had to lift me up in order to properly embrace the way I like.

"Katniss?" I hear Delly beckon, trying to bring me back to reality. Trying and failing, that is. I hear her but only in a vague, distant sense. My mind is still stuck on the image in my grasp. Still stuck on the novelty that I managed to find a remembrance for the boy who still at times questions if his memory is full of lies.

"I still cry about my family and somedays I can't even remember their faces."

I never even considered the possibility of finding a token of Peeta's departed family here. It never occurred to me, the potential finds in this box at my fingertips, that I could take home to my boyfriend. I never imagined finding him something to hold onto when the inevitable dark day came again like a storm cloud, full of thunder.

I'm so entranced what this could mean for Peeta, so lost in my own little world, that I'm barely even hanging onto the ladder. I'm definitely not as steady as I should be, standing near the top rung.

And I'm definitely not steady enough to hang on when Delly gives it a rough shake, trying to catch my attention.

The boxes break my fall. Sort of. Kanon and Leaf John had taken the liberty of placing the empty cardboard, already looked through and emptied, beneath the ladder.

Falling headfirst into a large, void box is better than falling plainly onto the filthy, concrete tile floor. But not ideal. Not as helpful as falling into a box of surviving clothes or toys would have been.

Delly apologized profusely for shaking the ladder. She'd even begun to cry when she noticed the blood seeping from my forehead.

Thankfully Kanon was there, as I didn't have the energy to console her much. I don't even know how I managed to cut my head at all, but it stung a fair amount and it provided me the excuse I wanted minutes prior, to escape the group project and head for the bakery.

Even after the fall, my mind still was cemented on the newfound treasure. My first instinct was still to show this memento to Peeta as soon as possible.

Kanon though, like a good friend, insisted on walking me home, despite my many protests that it was unnecessary, that I was just fine, that I could walk home blind if I had to. He insisted, foiling my intention to walk directly to the bakery and not wait for Peeta's return home, which still remained hours away.

Kanon was surprisingly stubborn when he felt strongly about something and I chose to relent, to give in and allow him to accompany me back to what used to be Victor's Village—where he now resided with Delly, inside Peeta's old home—without much fight.

Fighting for your independence and autonomy doesn't exactly present you as rational when there's a bloody gash in your forehead.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Kanon asks as we make out way up my porch.

I look up, maybe a little startled, from Mr. and Mrs. Mellark's wedding photo. "My head?"

"Yeah," he says carefully, looking at the blood like it's a mutt in an arena.

I shrug, doing my best not to indicate how dizzy I actually feel. Either from the fall or the blood still dripping out despite my attempt to plug the wound up with old cotton rags someone sorted into the trash box. "I've had worse."

He chuckles, a little sardonically. "Yeah, so have I."

I thank him for walking me home—for it was as inconvenient as it was sweet—and close the door slowly behind me, before leaning my ear against the wooden frame, waiting. Waiting for him to climb the steps down from my porch and make his way back to the Justice Building. Waiting for him to be far enough out of sight that I can sneak back out without him also trying to accompany me to the bakery.

It's not that I don't appreciate Kanon and Delly and all of my other friends' concerns. It's the fact that I wish to bestow a likely loaded item upon my boyfriend and I really don't need an audience to do it.

It's not the easiest feat, to slyly time it so Kanon won't hear me opening and shutting my front door again. And it's probably not my smartest plan, to walk alone along the rocky cobblestones and the uneven concrete, with a less than level head and body.

But I make it to the back door of the bakery still, just as I knew I would. It takes three times as long, but I make it there nonetheless.

Still clutching the photograph of his parents between my fingers too. Still with the same primary focus on my mind. To give him a token of remembrance, a token of the imperfect family he lost so tragically, that he still greatly missed, even when he can't say their names. Even when he can't conjure up their faces.

"You don't remember your family?"

"Sometimes I do... I'm not so sure other days. My memory isn't exactly top notch, if you know what I mean."

I push open the heavy-weighted back door, using all the energy my body can muster up. To my relief, Thom is already in the back room, sweeping flour off the floor.

"Hi, boss," he greets slyly as I walk in, barely glancing up at me. I shoot him an over-the-top eye roll, though I can't help smirking myself at the stupid nickname, when he beckons Peeta. "Hey, your girl is here!" He yells loudly. Too loudly to be packed with customers at the counter.

I take that to mean the daily rush has come and gone. Which would be very convenient, as it means I can present Peeta with my finding that much faster, without having to worry about his business—or our business, as he teasingly calls it—being held up.

I hear the sound of my boyfriend's quiet laughter from the front. The sound that I akin to my father's singing or my sister's squeal of delight. The last sound still alive that can make my heart do a flip.

But it dies out the second he peaks his blonde head into the back room. The moment his baby blues, the same color as both his parents', meet my silver ones and then trail upwards.

Almost as if remembering the gash in my head, I reach to my forehead, to ensure the makeshift cloth bandage is still in place.

"Katniss?" Peeta says, his eyes looking far more nervous than I anticipated. Which I can only take to mean the red liquid has seeped through the plain fabric. "Is that blood?"

I don't want him to focus too heavily on that fact though. Like I told Kanon, I've had much worse injuries in my life. Me and Peeta both have.

Just look at his prosthetic leg.

"Yes," I reply easily, before moving closer to him, pushing the glossy photograph towards him. "But that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is-"

"You are literally bleeding."

I sigh, feeling slightly perturbed now. "Peeta, look," I insist, thrusting the image of his parents towards him, waiting for it to take anchor.

And it does. It takes a beat longer than I expect, but it happens nonetheless. I watch silently as the image captives him, as the shiny photograph takes him back to a time when this exact location was the only home he'd ever known and this business was run by the two people inside the picture.

He touches the photo, as if to test it's realism, before looking up at me in disbelief. "Where did you find this?"

"The Justice Building today. Inside the boxes, with all the things lost in the bombing."

There's a long pause as Peeta process this. The silence makes me antsy, finding myself abruptly uncertain of what could be going through his mind.

Finally, he whispers softly, "I never thought I'd see this picture again."

And the awed, tender smile that spreads across his face swiftly encompasses me in its warmth.

And I suddenly don't even feel the gash in my head anymore.

Read The Rest On AO3

#everlark #thg #the hunger games #everlark fics #fanfic #everlark fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #play with me 🥰

73 notes · View notes

kendo413 · 3 years

Text

ValVarez headcanons pt 1

Here are Judy/Fem!V (or ValVarez as I have started calling them in my head) headcanons that kind of took on a narrative, and then kind of lost the plot along the way. These were the result of possibly the worst migraine of my life. I needed a distraction, so I started typing up some headcanons I thought of for the streetkid!V I was playing at the time, and then kept expanding it until I could finally fall asleep.

I will try say there are some spoilers for the game in here, and I will try to hide them under the fold or whatever. None of this is likely unique at this point, so if anything feels like it should be in your fic, have at it. Will be at least two parts after I realized just how much I had typed up during the migraine.

Something is off about this Merc. She isn't posturing, or boasting - she doesn't even seem to be wearing clothes that fit. When she speaks Judy can reluctantly admit that she does so without even a trace of guile.

The merc - V - is a BD virgin. Judy was confused about this turn, to say the least. Not many make it to her age, or at least as old as V appears to be, without at least making use of an educational BD.

Judy has never seen someone as strong as V, or at least, not someone with 'ganic limbs. Even the Animals probably haven't put as much steroid-free effort into their body as V clearly has. Judy has a lot of opportunity to admire her while V is in the test BD.

Evelyn has to convince V not to bolt from the chair the second the trial BD concludes. The merc shifts with anxious energy, looking a little green around the gills, and any doubts Judy had that V may have been lying about being a BD virgin go right out the window. She is intrigued, despite herself.

A netrunner is brought in, and Judy spends the whole of the Konpeki BD scowling at her monitors.

Not many people say "Thank you" in Night City. Somehow it fits that V, the big bad merc that she is, makes a point to say thanks despite how nauseas the BD experience has clearly made her. Maybe it was a mistake to give her that BD wreath.

Evelyn thinks she's sweet, and Judy is all too quick to remind her of her terrible judgement when it comes to people. Present company excluded of course.

Judy thinks this is all a terrible idea. Capable or not, nothing good can come from putting faith in the candid merc. Evie insists that V is an adorable murder machine regardless.

Judy was right in the end. She wasn't happy about it though. Not when Evelyn went back to Clouds a few days later.

V is back, Evelyn is missing, and they need each other right now. Judy doesn't have to like it.

It was terrifying to watch V work. Like a switch flipped and all of the restless, shifting energy she returned from wherever-the-fuck with was exchanged for focus.

V is uncommonly fast as well as strong, apparently. Her blade sings through the air with merciless precision, and her footsteps only make noise when she wants them to. V is is like a vengeful specter, and Judy is glad they're on the same side.

V enjoys her work, and seems more alive than ever leaving a trail of scav bodies behind her. She also stops to check every broken and discarded corpse along the way to make sure it isn't Evie's so that Judy doesn't have to.

After they rescue Evelyn and bring her safely to Judy's apartment, Judy realizes she can still hear the echoes of screams and gunfire left over from the rescue. She can't feel an ounce of remorse even now, hours after V sent heads and limbs flying as they hacked their way to Evelyn.

Judy is grateful to V for the care she's shown. For listening to Judy's direction in the scroller den, for saving Evelyn's interrogation for another day despite how desperate she was to find the Doll when they first made contact. For the first time, Judy feels ashamed of her snap judgement of V. Yes, her clothes never match or even fit her on any of the occasions they've interacted, and yeah, she has personally watched V pick up a discarded can of Chromanticore and finish it off, but she is also kinder than anyone Judy has met in years.

Evelyn is dead, and V is the only one she can call. V who is terrible with words but somehow knows exactly what to say to help Judy focus on the important things. She's helpful, and trying so hard to keep them both together.

V distracts her when the badges come. Tells her about meeting Jackie - how he shoved a gun in her face, then brought her home for lunch a few hours later. By the time they leave Judy isn't in cuffs, so the distraction must have helped.

Judy begins making plans. Wallowing in sadness never helped anyone in this city.

She's getting the feeling that V may have a crush on her. She also gets the feeling that V didn't like whatever she found while snooping on Maiko's comp, if the line of not-subtle-at-all questions as they leave are any indication.

They kill Woodman, and Judy doesn't feel any better. V tries her best to help, and it's the earnestness that Judy once found so off-putting that helps more than the words themselves.

V checks in on Judy in between jobs. She sends pictures from the Badlands that she thinks Judy would like to see. Judy ignores the way it bothers her to see some other woman in the background of more than a few.

Maiko makes it clear that she doesn't want the "freak merc" anywhere near this revolution. Judy is extra pleased to inform her that V is a vital, non-negotiable part of the mission.

V is dying, and Judy feels like someone pulled the rug out from under her. She thought V was being dramatic the first time she said so, but now she knows better. V falls asleep on her couch while Judy tells her about the unsuccessful line of BD blooper reels Sue had her work on a few months back.

V invites Judy to El Coyote Cojo a few days later for dinner. Rather, she invites Judy to Mama Welles's place for dinner, because V can't cook to save her life.

Mama Welles has endless stories about V and Jackie's misadventures. Judy is impressed that neither of them ended up in jail based on the amount of times they've had to pull each other out of the fire. By the end of the night, Mama Welles insists Judy call her when she needs to.

Sometimes, on a particularly bad night, Judy idly wonders how many people V has murdered that day. It seems she is always finding trouble to get into the middle of even just walking down the street. She doesn't want a number, but on very bad days it comforts her to know that if nothing else, they all at least had it coming. Maybe the world is a little bit better because V is in it, doing her thing.

V disappears without a trace for a few days. No pictures, no texts, not even a blip on the street about that sword wielding merc jumping into save some random citizens from gang violence. Judy tries not to worry but ends up going through a whole pack of cigs anyway.

Judy ends up calling Mama Welles who reassures her that V is probably just sick. V gets sick a lot with the way she eats whatever she finds but it's a habit they've not been able to break. Judy still can't reach V on the holo, but she does get an invite to dinner so she at least has company in her worry.

When V reappears, she is only slightly worse for wear and closed off about her whereabouts. Rumors start to surface about a massacre in a Pacifica church, and Judy doesn't ask.

Despite Maiko's best efforts, Clouds is liberated. Judy visits Evelyn's niche to tell her it's done, and finds V has left her cigarette case there.

Judy begins planning something new.

Judy gets a call from V, but not V. Panam on V's holo, the woman in the background of the photos. Panam is rude, but seems terrified and keeps going off on tangents about how V doesn't even have a security pin on her holo. "Doesn't she realize how dangerous it is when anyone can just access all her shit if she loses it?"

V is getting worse, and Judy feels helpless when all she can really tell Panam is to let V sleep it off. Panam thanks Judy for "being so helpful, truly appreciate the insight." If Judy weren't so sure Panam was V's output, she would admire how much "Fuck you" the feisty woman managed to inject into every syllable.

V stops by late the next day and apologizes for Panam. Judy suspects it's on Panam's advice when V not-so-subtly insists, on six separate occasions during the visit, that she and Panam are just friends.

Later, Panam calls Judy herself and apologizes. Judy makes a joke about V surrounding herself with temperamental women, which sets off teasing on Panam's followed by bickering between the nomads Judy wasn't aware could hear them chatting. She thinks she understands what V sees in Panam, now. It must feel like coming home, having to pull Panam out of the fires she creates after losing Jackie.

Judy invites V to Laguna Bend, and aside from V nearly drowning, the evening is perfect.

#valvarez #judy x v #cyberpunk 2077 #headcanon #judy alvarez x v

65 notes · View notes

one-piece-dumpster-fire · 4 years

Note

Normally I'd be too shy to send but heck it. May I have fluffy headcannons for Sabo, Thatch, Ace, and Marco of cuddles, kisses, and encouragement while trying to help their s/o study? Please and thank you queen uwu💖💖💖

I'm so sorry it took so long my dear😭!!! I hope you can forgive me and still enjoy what I came up with- despite the terribly long wait rip💔

The boys 'help' you with studying- headcanon

Sabo

he actually suggests that you should study together- since Sabo always has some reports left to fill anyway, he thinks it's a brilliant idea to take care of your duties together.

spoiler: it isn't. He can't focus on his work when you're next to him. No way. His fingers are constantly wandering from the papers on his desk over to your hand or face

sometimes he also can't help himself and starts toying around with your hair and compliments you on how beautiful you look, and the work he was supposed to do is almost completely forgotten within minutes

some may say he's just so touchy because he wants to distract himself from the boring paperwork, but you and I know that he simply adores you too much to ignore you. It seems almost cruel to him to focus on his work while you're by his side! Obviously he needs to show you how much he loves having you around, even at the price of barely getting anything done himself

when he reached the point where he absolutely can't keep his hands to himself anymore, he'll just pull you into his lap and tells you to stay focussed while he's taking in your scent and the feeling of your skin

okay, as nice as this is, you're not really making any progress right now. Mh. Perhaps Sabo could try and help you with your studies first, and then you can keep him company while he's doing his paperwork...? Technically, you'd still be taking care of your duties together that way!

the Chief of Staff most likely has no clue on what you're studying, but that won't stop him from telling you how smart you are and how he believes that you'll rock whatever subject you're focussing on!

whenever you're finished with a portion and turn to the next page, he makes sure to reward you by pressing a soft kiss to your temple or neck while encouraging you to go on

if it helps your cause, Sabo might even suggest to take your book and ask you questions about the current topic, almost like a small pop-quiz. It always ends in disaster though since he knows barely anything about the stuff you're working with, and sometimes he even answers his own questions as a result

whenever that happens, you are bound to break out in laughter and correct him when he gets something wrong. The pop-quiz he envisioned might not work, but this is another good way to test your knowledge, wouldn't you agree? And of course you two also get to goof around together that way, which is a huge plus to him. Studying and being focussed is super important of course, but you also gotta take a break and have a good laugh with him from time to time!

Thatch

he's such a devoted boyfriend that he actually helps you plan a studying schedule. Your sessions are usually in the evening or early afternoon, aka when he's not busy in the kitchen and can be with you while you're working on your stuff

now, Thatch is aware of the distracting presence he might have, so he tries to keep his interruptions to a minimum. As much as he'd love to be by your side and cheer you on 24/7, it probably won't be a good idea

instead he occasionally leaves to patrol the hallway to make sure that no one else tries to interrupt you. Especially Ace is forbidden from entering your room during study time- Thatch knows that the young pirate will just drag you away from your books and pull you into some dumb nonsense as always, and you can't have that

however Thatch is also unable to leave your side for long. He's slightly worried about all the work you have to take care of, and soon enough he's in your room and by your side again to make sure that you're okay

and- you probably guessed it- he also provides you with snacks and meals all throughout your study session. You need to eat and supply your brain with enough nutritions if you want to power through this!

if there is any topic in your textbooks that Thatch is even vaguely familiar with, he'll pull out a chair and sit down next to you to 'help' as good as he can. Even if it's not much. In his mind it might make you feel as if you're not alone with this

when it starts to get late and more cold, he's always sure to get you a blanket and some hot chocolate to keep you comfy. And- of course- he'd gladly reward you with some snuggles and kisses after your long studying session as well. You more than earned it!

in the end it's always him who pulls you away from your books and reminds you to get some rest. You can't argue with the cook on this- when he says it's time for bed, it's time for bed

during some nights, when you find it hard to fall asleep because your mind is still filled with all the knowledge you forced into it, Thatch comes up with a little game to play- instead of counting sheeps, you need to list something new you learned today and then he'll do the same. It usually ends with him rambling on and on about some new kitchen tool he found, which he keeps talking about right until he notices that his boring lecture has put you to sleep. Just as he planned...

Ace

he's flunctuating between wanting to help you with your studies and wanting to pull you away from them so he can keep you all to himself

whenever you're sitting in your chair, hunched over your books, Ace will show up and hug you from behind, his eyes peeking over your shoulder to look at what you're studying, feigning interest

sometimes he'll read a few words and pretend to know what it's about, just so he can talk with you. But you're always so caught up in your studies that you have to push him aside; and although Ace sorta understands it, he's still a bit upset that he can't spend time with you as usual

in an attempt to get you to pay attention to him, he would often press small kisses to your cheek while his head rests on your shoulder and he continues to engulf you from behind

he definitely admires your determination and how you can stay focussed on boring stuff like this for so long. If it was him, he'd probably be dead asleep in just a few moments

talking of which... 15 minutes into your studies, the sound of Ace snoring will ripple through the air. And since his head is still lying on your shoulder and close to your ear, you get to hear it at full volume

after you shake him awake a bit, your boyfriend will try his hardest not to fall asleep again- because he's scared that you might send him away if he does- but this is a battle he just can't seem to win...

as he's desperately trying find something to distract himself, Ace eventually decides to grab one of your textbooks and take a look at what you're dealing with. But again, he's unable to make any sense of it and asks you how you can stay concentrated on weird stuff like this

perhaps you could enlighten him a bit and explain what your current subject is all about? There's no guarantee that he'll understand anything you're talking about, but Ace would rather listen to you talk about the stuff than try to read about it in some stupid book by himself

the young pirate is utterly fascinated by how much you know. Obviously he still has no clue why you have to learn all that stuff, but it sure is impressive! Compared to how little education he has, it's almost as if he's dating a genius!

such a smart and determined partner definitely deserves some recognition. Once you're done with your studies, Ace will pounce on you like a needy cat and show you just how proud he is by pulling you against him and peppering your face in greedy kisses as if there's no tomorrow

even though he's proud of you for staying strong throughout your studies, he's far more excited to have you pay more attention to him now; without any of your annoying books getting in the way

Marco

unlike the others, Marco is truly 100% keen on making sure that you can work as efficiently and calmly as possible. Before you even start with studying, he's already setting up your desk for you and also observes how you're feeling to see if you're really in the mood for it

after all, nothing good is gonna come out of it if you force yourself! Your thoughts might wander and the time will be wasted. So before you sit down and learn, he is sure to spoil you and make you feel utterly relaxed so you won't stress too much

during studies, he often prefers to take on the role of a teacher and 'tutors' you on what you're currently working on

at night he secretly stays up and looks through your textbooks to see what subjects you have to prepare for, and if he can help with anything, he sure as hell will

it's kind of his personal job to stay up to date with whatever you're doing, so you always have him to rely on whenever you might struggle or not understand something.

whenever he can, Marco will come up with memory-bridges to help you mesmerize certain things more easily, and sometimes those references can even connect to situations you might remember from something that happened with the crew

and of course Marco often praises you for how strong and smart you are- even if you don't understand something at your first attempt, he knows how hard you're trying and always encourages you to keep going. He's certain that there's not a single obstacle you won't be able to overcome, as long as you put your heart and soul into it!

whenever you reach a new milestone or finish a study session, he rewards you. Said rewards can be cuddle sessions, showers of kisses, or him giving you a nice massage to help relax your muscles from sitting at your desk for so long

as your doctor as well as boyfriend, he's always concerned about your well-being. Intense studying sessions as well as the pressure to get everything mesmorized can be very emotionally taxing, and Marco makes sure to keep a close eye on you and your mental health so you won't get burned out

there's definitely a break-plan he designed just for you, and if he's not around to remind you to taking some time off every now and then, he'll get another crew member to jump in for him

what matters the most to him is how you're feeling. So even if there are days where you don't live up to your own expectations, Marco would never dream of scolding you for it. Instead he reminds you that you did your best and already learned so much- plus, tomorrow is a new day! If you couldn't do everything today, you probably will do it some other time. He's confident in that!

#one piece #sabo the revolutionary #thatch one piece #portgas d ace #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #sabo x reader #thatch x reader #ace x reader #marco x reader #op headcanon #one piece headcanon #one piece imagine #one piece x reader

387 notes · View notes

insufferablelust · 4 years

Text

THE ARTIST AND HIS MUSE (vi)

okay but that gif sent me to blazing hell, anyways! this is the 6th installment to the series! i hope you enjoy! it’s kinda a filler chapter to make straighten the plot line, thank you for reading! MASTERLIST for earlier chapter.

WARNINGS : Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, no actual smut, allusions to sex and pre-BDSM talk, traumatic past, Huge Build up (sorry loves), Cheesy fluffs.

I would also like to say that, some aspects of this story is not consistent with the actual series, i make some changes to fit the plot lines better. Full credit to the creators and directors of the series though.

—————

{ love is a world of it’s own, that lives in the heart not in the head. -Diana & Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds }

————

I love you

I love you.

————

The next morning, had me smiling. It was the longest sleep i’ve gotten in awhile and one that doesn’t have nightmares, all because he’s here. Spencer’s here, i shuddered as i felt his arms tightened around my waist and his legs tangled with mine. It felt so good just to know that we’re both safe and sound inside each other’s embrace, even if it’s temporary.

I listened to his breathing for awhile, he sounded so calm, there’s nothing i wouldn’t do to ease all of his worries and soothe the very thing that had him overthinking everything. His mind is a complicated place, he said so to me one time that “You never know what its like to be the prisoner of your own mind.” he didn’t know then that i’m still trying to get out of mine.

I bit my lip hard, as the memories from last night flooded back, i used to promised myself to not say any of my past to anyone, but now Spencer knows and i’m terrified that something will happen to him. Bad things tend to occur when they know the real me, and i won’t let anything happen to Spencer.

I shake away my bad thoughts and move on to the more exciting time of the night, god— i could still feel the way he touched me, the way he whispered so cruelly yet so lovingly. It was different from the first time we had sex, he was gentle whereas that time he was rough, dominant. I love both Reid’s, and yet i just can’t seem to get the thought out of my head, “How did he know that much about Dominance and Submissive play?” It’s not just common knowledge on how to perfectly bound someone or edge someone right? according to your experience, His techniques were as sophisticated as someone who had years of BDSM training.

“I could’ve sworn that dream was real.” Spencer’s morning voice pulled me out of my thoughts, i turned my head to see him before flashing him a smile and giggled. “Penny for your dreams then?”I muttered jokingly which he told me that it involved me and him, i stifled my laugh as i hid my face on his neck, immediately feeling the immense calmness radiated from his scent alone.

“Remember that one time, on the picasso signature case?” He mumbled sleepily against my hair, “how could i not remember? that case is the one that changes everything.” I looked up to him then, ran my fingers through his hair.

“I remembered just how flushed you are, i always liked you since the beginning, i just.. i just don’t know how your reaction would be so i kept it a secret.” He paused to look down at me, tucking my hair behind my ear, then continue,

“But then i started noticing little.. changes in your behavior, so i observed you for weeks which i know is creepy but hey.. i was practically in love with you at that point, you got anxious a lot around me which you hid it really well but then that one time during a case you just completely went flushed and your pupils were dilated, your breathing labored— which convinced my theory.” He explained, with eyebrows raised and a smirk itching to appear on his godforsaken lustful lips.

“Mmm, which is what Dr.Reid?” I batted my eyelash up at him, not knowing where my sudden burst of confidence appeared from but not caring either. “That you feel the same way about me, if not romantically, then at least sexually.” There it is, his lips curved up at one side— i was about to answer but beat me to it- leaned against my ear and whispered, “Stop with the act or i’ll spank your ass purple.”

“Oh Spencer, you’re saying it like it’s something i wouldn’t love.” I scoffed as i sit up on the bed, then straddled his hips. My respond lit up something inside him, something primal that i can see it in his eyes, his demeanor changed 180 which sent thrill to my skin.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

“I think i am, and so are you.”

“Oh i am pet, It’s fascinating how much you think you have control when it’s been showed clearly on who’s in charge, by the marks on your skin, and the burning sensation between your legs.” It felt like he poured all the molten lava on top of me to leave me burning, the way he said all of that turned me on beyond belief.

“You forget that i’m in control of you, and by so i can take away the things you ‘love’, when we talk about our relationship later, i’ll make sure spanking won’t be in the list of punishments— since you’re such a needy masochist.” I can’t help but to whine at his words, only to confirm all he said is true, true to every damn detail.

“S-Sorry sir and yes we need to talk about it..” I was so flustered i couldn’t think of anything else but that, i knew if i asked for him to touch me now he would just laughed, so maybe i can try to get back in his good mercy.

“There you go, you have manners after all. We’ll talk about it over breakfast, go and shower, i’ll make french toast.” He make sure to kiss my lips before patting my bum as a signal that I need to get up, which i happily did so. “Oh and sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir?”

“If i find you touching whats mine, Expect to be denied with ruined orgasms for a week.”

—————

The smell of french toast cooking hit my nose on the perfect Sunday morning as i stepped out of the bathroom, quickly drying myself off then went to my closet to pick out an outfit that was both comfy but also would make Spencer goes crazy. I smiled as i saw a vintage dress i’ve owned since college, it was a Sabrina type dress that stopped right above my cleavage, showing plenty of skin from there up to my neck.

I put on the dress quickly, decided not to apply any make up, and comb my hair to let it fall freely. I stand in front of the mirror to see how i looked, the sight made me shiver, the marks he had given me last night littered all over the exposed skin of my neck down to my collarbones, I bit my lips at the thought of bearing more of his mark as a way to show everyone that he owns me. Body and soul.

After a good 5 minutes, i snapped out of my thoughts and head downstairs right to where Spence is plating the french toast. “Go sit on the table. I’m almost done” He ordered, so i sit down, waiting for him to finally see me, my knees bounced against the table as i waited in anticipation.

“Y/N stop being anxious, your knees keeps—“ He demanded, only to be cut off when he saw me. He stopped dead at his track, holding both plates in each hand, his eyes widened a little as his breathing got labored at the sight of me, Spencer bit his lip hard taking a deep breath, before placing your plates in front of me, and his plate opposite of mine.

As you thought he was about to sit, he strolled to my side, hands immediately gripped my jaw and pulled me out of my seat— his hand are so tight around my jaw, i’m sure it’ll bruise, good. I took in the state of him, like i could see the red in his eyes as his were burning holes through my skull.

Then his grip moved lower to my neck, grasped it softly, not enough for it to bruise but enough to give me a warning. “You have no idea how much i want to put a nice collar on your neck, and bend you over this desk right now.” He whispered roughly, his other fingers trailed against my lips side to side.

I opened my mouth so he can pushed them in, letting me suckle on them as he chuckled “We’ll talk first, we have a lot to talk about. But since you’re pretty adamant on teasing my like this, if you agree to be mine later after we establish how this is going to work— best believe i’m going to ruin you.” My knees buckled at his proposition, Doesn’t he realized that i’m already his? He owns me the moment i let him open me up inside out.

“Bribing me already Dr.Reid?”

“Oh baby, i’ll make sure you’ll earn your lesson.”

—————

You moaned the second you tasted that sinful french toast, god isn’t Spencer supposed to be terrible at cooking? then how come this tastes like literal heaven? the perfectness oozes out of this fine looking toast dripping with hon—

“You’re really testing me now, Y/N.” He intertwined his fingers around each other before putting them in front of him, the manner suggest proper intimidation, clearly it worked for you. You replied with a whisper “Sorry sir, it’s really good.”

“Before we start to discuss our relationship, i’ll allow you to ask me questions about anything and everything that’s been going on. You gave me closure yesterday, and i shall give you closure too.” You kept eye contact as you wonder what to ask, which one of the thousands of questions in-your head that you were going to ask.

“Y/N?”

“How um how’d you find out about me? my past?” You nervously asked, this is something important to you, if Spencer truly found out then sooner or later you’ll have to face the consequences of everyone finding out too, probably even deeper than what’s Spencer been digging.

“I had my suspicions for awhile, when you first joined, you looked way too trained to be 25. No one is that trained unless they have basic skillset, everyone were suspicious too but decided to not question anything. But like i said,” His eyes were sharp, and you can feel the goosebumps rises at the sound of his tone. God he always managed to make you nervous.

“You intrigued me. So i did some digging of my own, asked Garcia to hand me your file, to my surprise before the age of 14 Y/N Bones never existed, Your surrogate father is smart, but he still leaves crumb Y/N. I’m just surprised the bureau didn’t question it when you joined,” He paused as he clench and unclench his jaw, the sight alone made me squirm in my seat, i’m not sure if i’m even listening at this point.

“So i searched deeper, even asked one of my friends Elle to do a deep background search about you so that it’s not someone on the team, and we both found out that you.. breezed your way through the psych eval that you have an astounding result. Your records are squeaky clean yet, there are pictures of you when you were 17 so we generate how you might’ve looked like when you were 10 to 15 years old and then we found...”

“The missing kid from a mob murder house in Italy, last seen by the chauffeur that was killed moments after he talked to the police, the poor guy was new— he never been briefed on what happened when something like that occurred.” You finished his statement as you looked down, your eyes closed momentarily as you tried to process that this man knows everything about you and now your secrets will be revealed to the world.

“Y/N, listen to me,” You’re that good at controlling your face whenever someone confronted you, thats why you’re able to breezed through your basic psych eval like a magnet. “Let me see you, not the walls you’ve put up.” Then when he said that, you felt like you never really knew yourself, all these years, you’ve put up a persona that was strong enough to handle everything even if you chipped away apart of your psyche every time something traumatic happened.

“This is me, Spence.. It’s who i want to be..”

“No, it’s killing you. All your life you’ve been directed, told what to do, controlled. But then you gained some sort of control when you finally was able to get free from your surrogate father, yet you don’t like it right out of the start so you keep up because that’s what kept you survive, get you inside the bureau so you won’t legally be touched once your father died, am i correct?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you tried everything to give up control again, you joined the club right?” That made you red in an instant, How the hell did he managed to know so much about you? you’ve tried your damn hardest to be discreet about it, event as far as going to the club thats far from where you lived.

“I-I, Spencer this is too much information..” You trailed as you bit your lips at the thought of him knowing the inside and out of you like you’re one of his book, part of you were glad that you don’t have to keep everything to yourself anymore, that you don’t have to worry about control— you want to relinquish control, and he’s the only one that has made you feel comfortable when you give him all of you, and you don’t want it to stop. But you two are coworkers, FBI agents in the same field nonetheless there’s no way Hotch would agree to anything you propose.

“I know it is, Y/N. But you don’t have to go through it all alone now okay? i’m here, i know and thats good.”

“What do i have to do? Tell Hotch the truth about my past?” You chewed your lower lips as you think about all the possibilities that could happen, one being the most obvious which includes you being investigated and then fired. Or there’s one where the FBI would uncover Mr.Bones’s ties to Italian mob, which means you put all of them in danger. Then there’s one—

“Stop it, stop thinking for a second, and stop biting your goddamn lips, i swear.” He took you by surprise as he went over to your side and place you on top of the table in front of him before sitting down on your seat himself. “I-I’m sorry, i just.. don’t know what to do.. i don’t want to resign or get fired, i love this job, you’re all my family.”

He took my hand in his, and hold it tight before pressing a kiss on each fingertips, “You’re way too valuable of an agent to get fired and Hotch knows that, love. The worst thing that can happen is they’ll investigate and you’ll be forced to tell them what happened and how it went from there. Y/N you have no absolute ties with them, you were a victim.”

“You don’t know how powerful they are, the reason why i wanted to be apart of this job is to go after them Spence, and i’m getting nowhere close to even find any trace of them.”

“As much of a genius as you are, combining 8 heads instead of one will have a different outcome.” He joked, which makes you chuckled as you sighed and nods “Can i think about it first?”

“Of course, but do know that they’ll find out whether you tell them or not. And it’s better if it’s coming from you, not genius detective work of Garcia.” He sternly remind you, as you nod, and smile at him, muttering a small “okay..”

“Now, do you have any other question?” He pulled you closer, his hand practically grasping your bum cheeks, making you blush. “I-um..” you stopped as the words you were about to let out got stuck on your throat.

“Y/N, when you’re being asked, speak up clearly.” He scolds, which made your heart twisting in an uncomfortable way, showing how much you hate it when he gets disappointed at you. “I’m sorry, it’s just.. um— how did you know so much aboutsubmissionanddominance?” You rushed the last bit as you close your eyes in embarrassment, He made you feel so timid.

“What was that, baby? Didn’t quite hear the last bit?” He muses with a wonderful smirk formed on his ridiculously handsome face which makes you want to roll your eyes but decided otherwise since you don’t wanna get punishment this early.

“Submission and Dominance, Sir.” He play his game, and so you will play yours, only fair right? oh he thought so, his lips quirked in amusement before chuckling,

“How do you think i found out about that club you joined hm?” Your brows furrowed in confusion as you try to click things inside your head before you came to a realization...

“Spencer... are you— are you?”

He’s a goddamn member isn’t he?

“3 years, Princess.”

You’re fucked, Once again.

————//————

TBC! i know it’s short, like i said it’s only a filler chapter, since i have plenty of blurbs req, i’ll prioritize them first. So if you sent your reqs already, please be patient, they’re all coming soon!

tell me what you think on comment or send me a message, Tag list is open just let me know if you want in! thank you!

( @blancastans @spencerwaltergubler @slutforthegubes @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @babybloomer @liaabsurd @midnightsubmissives @addie5264 @maybankslut @secretpickleprofessordean )

#insufferableblurb #dom!spencer #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader #taahm #criminal minds imagines #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff

201 notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

The Runaway Princess | One

Okay, okay, okay so I'm dropping this preview here because I have yet to decide if this is going to be a long fic or a chaptered fic but I have the first part down and I wanted to share it. It's a young Zemo x OC fic (lightly OC? His wife in the comics is named Heike and I took that name and ran with it so she's my own design but with a ripped off name LOL).

If I decide to post the rest on here it will be on my DIzzy After Dark page because I'm planning this to be an NSFW style fic (bc why the fuck not) but this opening bit is 110% friendly to all ages I just wanted to introduce Heike because I fucking love her.

This story goes with the Zemo moodboard I made months ago and finally just got around to polishing. Here is the like to that!

⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙ * ˚ ⁺ ‧͙ ⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙ * ˚ ⁺ ‧͙ ⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙ * ˚ ⁺⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙

Synopsis: Heike is a Ballerina and a Princess, but before that she is an object, one toyed with by her very mother. She is to be married to a man she's never met, whom she has yet to even see a picture of (though that's of her own design), and is on the verge of one of the biggest moments of her career: dancing on the Marinsky stage.

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Heike Petrov (OC)

Warnings: Slight angst, eventual NSFW content that will be 18+ (not this part), fluff tho and lots of it, seriously this is all over the place

Word count: 2.2k

⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙ * ˚ ⁺ ‧͙ ⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙ * ˚ ⁺ ‧͙ ⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙ * ˚ ⁺⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙

The first drops of sunlight pour in through the arched windows, painting the glossy wooden floor in an array of sparkling pastels. They hit the paneled mirrors, bouncing off of the golden bar that runs the entire length of the studio, illuminating every surface in an ethereal glow. For just a moment— the tiniest fraction of time where there's no noise other than the slightest shuffle of silken slippers against mahogany and even, meticulous breaths— everything is perfect. Everything is calm.

Perhaps if Heike’s eyes were open she would admire the peace— the way her studio looks as though it’s been dipped in a bath of gold and oil paints. The way it’s just cool enough to keep the sheen of sweat from her limbs. The silence. Oh yes, she would certainly admire the silence. It’s all she’s ever longed for.

Her eyes are not open, though, and in her head her thoughts are excruciatingly loud— louder than they’ve been in ages. There’s no silence for her to admire behind the darkness of her eyelids. No gold, or oil, or peace. Nothing of the sort.

No, in her head she is on a stage. A loud, vast, practically thrumming stage.

Bozhe, pomogi yey.

That’s nothing new, though— that’s her life. Her life is on a stage and her life is a stage. She is always doing and someone— but more often someones— is— are— always watching. Being on the stage is not new.

What is new is the particular stage that she is on this morning. The Mariinsky Stage. The biggest grande allegro in all of Russia. It’s the stage she has been preparing to dance on for almost all of her life— for almost twenty-five excruciatingly long years. In just thirty-six hours she will be performing in front of the world’s most important people.

Kings and Queens.

Princes and Princesses.

Presidents and Prime Ministers and everyone in between who can afford a ticket.

So, her family— her entire family— somehow that’s worse than anyone else.

A soft voice cuts through her pondering but not quite through the dread.

“Mi’lady, it is seven.” Already? Heike could have sworn she just put her slippers on a few minutes ago. “I am afraid it is time we start dressing you. It’s a special day— the Queen has, erm, reminded me, shall we say, that you mustn’t be late to brunch this morning.”

The Princess sighs, the Mariinsky beginning to fade from behind her eyelids. Of course her mother’s been pestering her lady in waiting again. Would it truly be a normal day if she didn’t? It isn’t as if Katerina is the kindest, hardest working, most tolerant woman in the castle— no, that would be absurd. Surely if she was then her mother wouldn’t treat her with such scorn— as though she’s lower than the dirt the country stands on. Only a touch worse than she treats her own daughter.

Oh— wait.

Cracking an eye open, Heike drinks in the woman before her. Scarlet hair, pale skin, rosy cheeks, and a worn smile. Worn but there nonetheless. She opens the other eye, passing Katerina what she can only assume— nyet, hope— is the same. She has no idea how Katerina puts up with the Queen. She can barely do it and she’s the princess. Heike knows it’s for her, though, so she tries her best to be the opposite.

She lowers herself to the floor, stretching her hands out towards her toes. “Three hours to get ready? Surely that’s too much time to throw on a dress and some heels, Kat.”

Katerina rolls her eyes, tsking and shaking her head. “Shush miss— you know this morning is different.”

The princess giggles, tilting her head to the spot on the floor next to her. Katerina sighs but it is pointless— Heike is well accustomed to her pattern of feigning annoyance. When you’re around the same person day in and day out for nine years, you begin to pick up on their traits. Like how Kat rolls her eyes but the left side of her mouth still ticks up. It comes with the territory— it comes with being best friends.

That’s what they are, really. Best friends. Heike’s only friend, truly. She knows it’s odd to become friends with your lady in waiting— it’s not lost on her the implications of such a relationship and of her status— but Katerina has never felt like her servant. The idea of even having a servant has always felt terribly outdated, at least to her. Kat is her friend— her sister. Well, if sisters were paid to be your sister. She would like to believe that the reason Kat sticks around, though, is because she feels the same way.

Bozhe, pomogi yey.

Katerina slumps onto the floor next to her, rolling onto her back, her blue gown pooling in a graceful circle around her. Heike meets her eyes with another smile— this one much less coy. There is only so much that can keep the nerves at bay. Practicing her ballet was helping— a lot, actually— but now that she’s not moving— now that the dawn has broken into a more sinister form of daylight— all the raging thoughts have begun to simmer again. Now, it seems, they are boiling over.

“What do you think it’ll be like?” Her voice is quiet, just barely breaching a whisper, but in their little bubble of mahogany and glass it is louder than ever.

Katerina pushes herself up onto her elbow, her brows creasing together. They have been having the same conversation for weeks, ever since her mother told her the news. Heike can practically hear what she’s going to say before it’s out of her mouth.

“It or him?” Heike winces at Kat’s bluntness regardless— usually they skirt around the real topic for a few minutes, warming up to it.

She supposes they don’t have time for that today though. Not when he will be sitting in their conservatory in three hours. Maybe even less. Maybe he is even here now, waiting, speaking to her parents and bartering a deal for her hand— no. She takes a deep breath, beginning to untie her slippers if only to keep her shaking fingers occupied.

“Baron Helmut Zemo—” Heike tests his name on her tongue. It tastes familiar— that is probably because she has been repeating it for weeks now, though— “he sounds regal.”

“He is royalty,” Katerina reminds, the left side of her mouth quirking up. “Just the same as you, Mi’lady.”

Heike sighs. “Katerina, please— I’m a dancer. A ballerina. None of the formalities— they make me feel… strange.”

Being a princess would mean that she is the daughter of a king and a queen— it would mean she actually got recognized as anything more than a pair of pointe shoes.

She doesn’t add that, of course, only pulls said pointe shoes from her feet, letting her toes stretch and curl in the cool air of her studio. Not for long— only until her fingers begin trembling again and then she is starting on the sides of her leotard, pulling at the little silk ribbons. Soon, though, even that is interrupted, a pair of warm hands wrapping around hers and halting her attempts to hide her fidgeting.

“You’re stalling is what you are. Just as you have been all week. It isn’t healthy, Hei. Talk to me— you always talk to me.”

Heike lifts her eyes back to her friend, meeting her worried blue eyes and feeling her shoulders drop. “I’m sorry, I know. It’s just— I—” She doesn’t know what to say— part of the reason she hasn’t talked about it is because she’s at a complete and utter loss. “I am tired. I think. But so are you— more so than I. So I shouldn’t complain.”

Katerina rolls her eyes again, squeezing her hands. “Mi’lady I am exhausted. Truly I am. But at the end of the day I get to go to my bed and I get to sleep. Just like you do. We both sleep, yes?”

“Yes, but what—”

“It means we are the same— which means don’t say that. We are friends. You are tired. I am tired. I can be tired and listen at the same time, believe it or not.” Kat shakes her hands, bringing them up to her chest with Heike’s fingers still wrapped in her own. “I know it’s hard but we must talk about this. No excuses.”

Heike tries for another smile but it feels more like a grimace— like all the muscles in her face are rebelling. “How are you so kind to me?”

Katerina narrows her blue eyes until all Heike can see is black. “No excuses, Mi’lady.” She scrunches her nose, her face softening from it’s accusatory glare. “But— on that note— you’re much more lovely than you give yourself credit for, Hei. You’re easy to be kind to. So, again, stop making excuses because if you don’t then you will be unlovable. I will stop loving you.”

Heike laughs for a quick moment and then straightens— Kat is right. Kat is always right.

“I’m nervous,” Heike admits.

It’s harder to push the words out than she thought it would be. It’s like her throat squeezes extra hard when she says it, her teeth and tongue acting a barricade to the truth. The words do manage to shimmy through but they take all the energy she has with them and she sags. Her whole body rebels against the notion that she’s worried. Princesses aren’t supposed to worry.

“I don’t even know what this man looks like.” Heike continues, gently pulling her fingers from Katerina’s grasp, curling them around her bare arms and closing her eyes— It’s easier to think in the darkness. “I suppose I could look but there is no point, I’ve made it this far without. No matter what I do he will still be here soon. His appearance isn’t really the point anyway. That’s what I keep telling myself at least.”

Heike mutters the last part but she’s sure she hears it.

Only a few measly seconds pass before Kat’s voice cuts through the darkness, as patient yet as pressing as ever. “What is the point then, Hei?”

Her. The point is her. It is not about whether Heike likes him— it doesn’t matter if she does, her mother has her ways of getting what she wants. The Queen— her holder. Gods, this man could hate Heike— take one look at her and despise everything he sees— and her mother would still, somehow, find a way to have them married.

Heike snaps her eyes open— she draws the line at having to think about a wedding. Her wedding. To a man who will probably hate her. That’s the point— marriage. Status. Everlasting, lukewarm relationships for the sake of kingdoms that are more an idea than anything else.

Again, Heike doesn’t say that, at least not all of it.

“What if he does not like me?” She can’t force her voice past a dull whisper, her hands— now that they aren’t being held steady— once again trembling.

Katerina’s face softens immediately, her eyes losing the glimmer of humor she had somehow been maintaining. It was probably for Heike’s benefit. People are always trying to keep her happy, like it’s some sort of crucial task. Keep Heike happy or it’s off with your head. Her— the princess— the burden. She doesn’t want any heads, she can barely keep track of her own at any given moment.

Case in point.

Katerina holds her arms open wide and raises a scarlet brow. Heike doesn’t waste any time in rushing forward and piling her body into Kat’s. Burden or not, there’s no way she’s about to refuse the best hugger in the castle.

The lady in waiting squeezes her arms around the princess, her words soft against her temple. “That is impossible. Impossible. You worry much too much— you always have. He will love you, Heike. I know he will. It’s impossible not to love you, trust me I would know.”

Heike snuggles deeper into her friend’s arms, soaking in as much of her lemon and vanilla perfume as possible. It’s the only thing that’s ever screamed home to her. She has been many places— danced on many stages— but coming home never meant the castle walls. It never meant anything because Katerina was always right there next to her, holding her hand or flicking her ear or snoring until the very last minute when they are being rushed off the plane and Heike is doing more of the waiting than anyone. She has always had the privilege of bringing her home with her— her citrusy, red haired home.

But for how long will that be possible?

She doesn’t ask— It is for her and her only to bear. “But what if he doesn’t?”

Katerina pulls back, much to Heike’s dismay, her hand slipping under her chin and squeezing gently. “The we run, Mi’lady.”

Heike’s heart softens. “We?”

Kat rolls her eyes, the left side of her mouth halfway to her ear— Heike supposes she should have seen that coming. “You are not leaving me here alone, miss.”

Bozhe, pomogi yey.

⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙ * ˚ ⁺ ‧͙ ⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙ * ˚ ⁺ ‧͙ ⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙ * ˚ ⁺⁺ ˚ * •̩̩͙ ✩ •̩̩͙

Translations:

Bozhe, pomogi yey — God help her

#helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo #helmut zemo x oc #baron zemo x oc #zemo x oc #royalty au #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #dizzy writes #The Runaway Princess

9 notes · View notes

sunflowers-insherwood · 3 years

Text

Allan A Dale Analysis - 2x06

Investigating Allan A Dale’s Character Through For England...!

2x06 of BBC Robin Hood arguably presents some of the most dynamic character relationships and power plays of the entire series, and it was for this reason I came away from rewatching it a few nights ago and instantly began to scribble notes. Originally I aimed to write about the wider relationships within the episode – Guy and Marian’s as well as Guy and the Sheriff’s are particularly interesting here – but alas, I just couldn’t stop myself from writing about my favourite character Allan A Dale, who also goes through one of the climaxes of his general progression and betrayal arc in this episode. As a fan favourite, Allan is often seen throughout the fandom as the victim of a series of worsening situations, and while this is a credible interpretation, it often forgets to acknowledge Allan’s agency and his decisions to go ahead with actions that slow the greater good. Although I agree that Allan’s betrayal and further descent is largely worsened by the actions of those around him, in this essay I hope to restore his accountability and show how he initiates several violent acts, all while victimising himself by placing the blame on others. I will walk through the episode chronologically, analysing his motives, actions, and their consequences, trying to establish a fair view of Allan’s reasoning in this episode, as I examine not just his actions, but the decisions he made in order to complete them. (Wordcount: 3.2k)

This can be read alone, but works best when read after my 2x05 confrontation analysis.

This episode is the first time we see Allan operating fully outside of the gang he’s been a part of for the rest of the series. At the end of 2x05, Robin finds out Allan is the spy who has been working for Gisborne, and they truly clash for the first time. In 2x06, his first scene occurs right at the beginning, as we see Allan trek back into the forest with the hood of his cloak up to avoid being seen by the gang, in order to gather the money from his stash. However, he arrives only to find the gang have found his money, as they proceed to yell at him for being a traitor and keep his stash. The gang’s pain here is understandable; Allan hasn’t been able to explain that the catalyst for his betrayal was physical and emotional torture, (he told Robin but Robin dismissed this and likely hasn’t told the gang) so they think he was more willing to work for Gisborne than he actually was. The pain of the wound is fresh, him having been told to leave by Robin what can only be assumed to be a day or so before. To them, they are taking his ‘blood money’ to help the poor. However, Allan now has very little to survive on. He essentially only has the clothes on his back, as he can’t go back to camp to collect his belongings, and so only has what he left with. His worse possible situation has become his reality overnight: he has gone from having both friends and money to neither. I imagine when the reality of his spying first hit him, he calmed himself from the worry of being thrown out of the gang with the promise of money; he’d have no friends but a means to survive (which is what he wanted the money for in the first place, he wanted financial security), yet now he has neither. However, he still repeatedly tries to reach out to the rest of the gang, saying he never wanted this to happen, but is interrupted by the black knight carriage that drives between them and he runs away, likely to avoid being caught by the Sheriff’s men but also to re-evaluate his situation, as he’s now probably feeling especially vulnerable. In his eyes, this is another situation where Robin or the gang could have given him a second chance but haven’t. (Sidenote, he and the gang are literally divided by the Sheriff’s men, if that ain’t symbolism I don’t know what is).

So now, feeling completely abandoned by the rest of the gang, who have not just been passive in their dislike but have actively taken his only money, he goes to the only person he has left – Guy. Yes, he could’ve left Nottingham and begun a new life, but this would have been extremely difficult, especially keeping in mind that Robin saved Allan from losing a hand when he was poaching to survive after his brother stole everything from him in a similar situation before. Basically, surviving alone is hard, and he knows this, so his quickest and easiest option is to go to the one contact he has who won’t reject him instantly, which is Guy. By the end of the episode, I argue that Allan has more spiteful motivations, but I believe he initially goes to Guy out of necessity, rather than as an act of vengeance against the gang by siding with the enemy.

And luckily for him, Guy agrees to take him on! Some more stuff happens but as I can’t remember it, I’m not going to deem it that important. The next time we properly see him is when he walks into the wrong place at the wrong time, and the Sheriff instantly calls for him to be hanged. We see him arrested, although never in the cells, however you can just imagine the anguish he’s going through there. I always view Allan as at least partially traumatised from his almost-hanging in 1x01, and now he’s been told he’s going to be hung again and is left to wait in a cell, knowing how painful a death it’s going to be, and without any hope of rescue. So now, on top of his exhaustion from sleeping rough for a night or two, having to completely adapt to a new environment and knowing his friends all hate and reject him without him being able to explain his actions, he’s also grappling with imminent death through his worst fear – he’s having what could be described as a really, really terrible time. Even Guy tells the guards to ‘take him away’, so he is essentially abandoned by everyone he knows. He is completely cornered with no way out.

Let’s expand our view for a minute and just think about Allan as a person. I love a good personality test, and my personal favourite is the Enneagram. The Enneagram categorises personalities into nine types, with a person’s basic desire and basic fear at the crux of this designation. I believe Allan to be a Type 7 with a 6 wing (7w6), which essentially means his biggest fears are of being deprived and in pain, and of being without security. If we go back to the episode, taking into account everything he’s just had to consider – a painful and imminent death, the loss of his friends, and loss of a shelter and money – and place that in the context of his worst fears – being deprived, in pain, without security - we see a man who has every single worst fear come true in the space of around 24 hours. And then, what if on top of this, we place him on a flimsy wooden plank on top of a vat of boiling liquid, pitted against the man who personifies why his life is now awful: we see a man who has lost everything, who is completely cornered, who has nowhere else to run, but an instinctual desire to survive. (Allan’s ideas of right and wrong aren’t as strong as the rest of the gang’s, and his desire to survive places these even further back on the priority list.)

Now, this doesn’t excuse what he does when he’s fighting Robin over that pit of boiling oil, but it does give an outline of just how emotionally wrecked he’s feeling. In that moment, it’s him versus Robin, him versus the man who is the reason why his life has gone to shit. I’m not saying that everything is Robin’s fault – while the inability of the others, especially Robin, to listen to Allan’s side of the story definitely accentuates his problems, he is still to blame for willingly feeding Guy information and the consequences of that – but to Allan, it is easier to blame everyone other than himself. In his head at this moment, he is the complete victim, as especially in the early moments of processing what is happening, it is easier to be angry at others rather than accept any of his own responsibility for what’s happening. So he’s angry at everyone in lieu of being angry at himself, and hence he takes the initial swing, initiating the fight despite Robin trying to stop him. (It was these moments in the fight which prompted me to write this essay, to investigate his reasoning, because before I viewed him as pretty much a complete victim, but here is an explicit example of how that is not true). Both Robin and Allan are being prodded by the guards to force them to fight, however, so I’m unsure how quickly he would take the first swing without their insistence.

They begin to fight, and I can’t remember all the ins and outs of their conversation as they fight but it’s mainly:

Allan: You should’ve given me a second chance.

Robin: When did you become so low?

Allan: When you started thinking you were better than everyone else.

Robin: Not better than everyone else, just you. Allan is now furious, as in his view, Robin has just completely backed him into a corner by forcing him out of the gang and taking his money, and is now lecturing him on morals, because Allan tried to find a way to survive despite this. (A difference in their priorities: Allan’s to survive, Robin’s to be good. Robin would rather die knowing he stayed true to his morals, but Allan would rather live). But the moment that is most interesting is when Robin is distracted, and Allan decides, completely of his own volition, to go for Robin with what should be a killing blow (Robin manages to twist out of the way last minute). But for all intents and purposes, Allan directly tries to kill Robin. He isn’t prompted by the guard’s stabbing at him, at the very least this isn’t shown, and he has the time while Robin is staring at Marian to properly consider what he’s about to do too. On screen, there is a wide shot of him getting ready to swing, which lasts long enough to see the action was, to some extent, mediated. This is the moment where you could lose faith in Allan as a good person, because he just tried to kill Robin in cold blood. There was no individual catalyst or bad influence (apart from the boiling vat of oil) like when he was previously pressured into betraying the gang, it’s entirely of his decision. Let’s break down the motives behind this action. He’s in the midst of the angriest he ever gets at the Robin and the gang, full of bitterness about his position, as well as in the heat of a life or death situation with the philosophy of ‘I’ve got nowhere else to go.’ In his eyes, he can either die right now, or live to survive another day and even gain the respect of Guy and the Sheriff, possibly guaranteeing him further work. That’s the first possible reasoning – he sees this more as a business opportunity to prove his loyalty to someone else and stay alive. The other reasoning, of which his motive could be a mix of both or just one (I think it’s a mix), is that he’s genuinely so hurt and furious at Robin that in that moment he does just want to kill him. However, if he was motivated by such an emotion, it has to be interpreted as more of a spur of the moment decision as killing Robin would essentially completely seal his fate of never being able to get back together with the rest of the gang (which does become one of his largest desires by the end of season 2, so taking that into consideration, the moment he goes for Robin he’s likely not thinking of the consequences).

These moments as he’s fighting are so interesting to me, as so much of the time Allan is painted as a victim – which I realise I am kind of doing now – but it’s important to note just how much stuff he does of his own volition. I see these explanations as not excuses for his actions, but reasons, because he does decide to try to kill Robin, just as much as he decides to continue selling information to Guy after being tortured into agreeing. At the very least, he was completely out of rope, so it shows just how far he’s willing to go to protect himself when so much (or arguably so little) is on the line.

Straight after the moments where we see him at his most vicious and vengeful, however, he’s able to jump down from immediate danger, and while the wider fight between the merry men and the guards are happening, he sees John and instantly tries to reach out, saying a genuine thank you for helping save him. Despite being completely willing to kill Robin, he is easily able to thank and attempt to reconcile with John. This might be part of an ‘eye for an eye’ philosophy, as Robin pushed him away from the gang multiple times, but John has done nothing to directly hurt him. The only person Allan has anything against is Robin, the gang are collateral damage in this conflict between the two of them, and it just so happened to be Robin forced to fight him. It would be interesting to see his reaction to having to fight any other member of the gang, as I think he would act very differently – much more defensive than offensive. It also could be because Robin is the person Allan envies the most even when they are friends. He makes a dig of this nature at Robin when talking to him after he’s revealed as the spy in 2x05 (if you can’t defend yourself, attack, could be the ideology he’s using there), likely due to the Ron-Weasley-style insecurity of ‘you’re always in the sun and I’m always in the shade’. This is the same insecurity that Guy preys on when torturing him to convince him to sell him information, and it gets through to Allan, so it obviously runs deep. Robin is the person he has the most internal and external conflict with. When talking to John, it isn’t instant life or death, so he is calmer, and the only reason Allan even came close to killing Robin was due to the fact they were both captured and made to fight. If this hadn’t happened, I imagine Allan would’ve just stayed out the gang’s way until he found a way to get back to them. So he tries to reconnect with John, as he is a friend whom he holds nothing against, to show his gratitude and perhaps find some sympathy or allyship in the gang. All he gets is a punch in the face, though, which is kinda sad. However, this is, when considering John’s vantage point of the situation – Allan just betrayed the gang and tried to kill Robin – completely fair.

After the fight is over, the rest of the gang have made a safe getaway and Guy and the Sheriff are arguing over what to do next. The camera cuts to Allan nursing his bruised jaw from where John punched him, looking not only physically hurt, but pretty emotionally ruined too. When Guy orders him to move, he moves so slowly that it’s definitely more than just pain, but also exhaustion and him processing the full extent of what he just did and what happened to him. He tried to kill Robin, he tried to reach out to John and got rejected, and now he’s going to have to work for Guy for the foreseeable future. He now knows what the gang think of him for joining Gisborne: they see it as a direct attack against them, rather than him trying to survive. He’s dealing with the worst parts of himself while having to accept that he’s truly hated by the rest of the lads, and not just Robin. The fight was the climax of his bitterness and anger, but I think from this moment, we see him begin to realise he wasn’t the victim, and regret and grieve his actions. Although he does go along with the Sheriff’s orders while at the castle, he is subdued about it, replying to Marian’s demands for an explanation for his worse actions with a quiet helplessness as he just ‘knows what side [his] bread is buttered on’ (2x12). He doesn’t like what he’s doing, shown by his multiple attempts to help the lads while at the castle, but he knows he must do it to survive. His instincts of self-preservation are too strong, and I think this leads to his main internal conflict and possible self-hatred, as he battles between doing what he can to live, and doing what is right. He has a lot of time for self-reflection at the castle, as he comes to term with what he has done, is doing, and must do in the future.

We don’t see anything else from Allan in this episode, but most notably, the camp dynamic is completely thrown after the fight – Much struggles with the silence as the eat at the end of the day, and as a team of five they are generally less mobile. They are able to fight well still, but in 2x06 after Robin writes his letter to Marian and says goodbye to them, about to sacrifice himself, they take a long time to read his letter and realise what he’s about to do. I think that, had Allan been there, he would’ve been able to read Robin better and prompted the others to read his letter more quickly. Here, his looser moral code and intuition would’ve proved highly helpful to the gang. On top of his, in his absence, Much gets even more of the bullying, as he worries more and the others increasingly tell him to ‘shut up’, leading to Much’s outburst in 2x12 which is only resolved by Allan coming back. Interesting, despite expecting Much to be the one to hold a grudge, he’s the first to welcome Allan back into the gang as they fight together, showing that he missed Allan’s presence much more than he let on, and felt the gang’s dynamic shift because of it. Much acts as the emotional compass for the gang, so to see him be so thrown by Allan’s leaving portrays how unstuck the others also feel.

All in all, Allan’s actions in 2x06 stem directly from his confrontation with Robin in 2x05, building on the insecurities and bitterness which Robin failed to acknowledge and address, instead diminishing his experience and taking away all options, until Allan’s only course was to leave the gang and join Guy – not yet in vengeance, but in the name of self-preservation. This backfires as he is almost hung by the Sheriff, left alone to face the threat of his worst fear. His fight with Robin later in the episode shows his anger and frustration come to a head, to the point where he, for a moment, intends to kill Robin. Allan’s inability to take any blame upon himself forces him to direct his anger onto others. Luckily for him, this passes quickly, and he tries to reconnect with other members of the gang but fails to do so. He is then forced to resign himself to working for Guy at the castle, on a side he ever intended to permanently be on. He is very much at fault for his actions, but the decisions made by Robin and Robin’s influence on other members of the gang (by not letting Allan tell them his side of the story) worsen his situation to lead to his permanent working for Gisborne. His actions at times seem spiteful, at others desperate, and the impact other people have on him directly motivate many of his decisions – but at his worst, he has the full agency to make terrible decisions of his own accord.

Thanks so much for reading if you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed my take! I’ve loved writing this duo pf essays of character exploration, they’ve truly helped me to understand Allan’s reasoning further. If you’ve anything to add, please don’t hesitate to! Your response to my 2x05 analysis was so kind and I’m genuinely honoured to be part of such a wonderful fandom.

#allan a dale #robin hood #bbc robin hood #character analysis #robin of locksley #for england #allan a dale analysis

22 notes · View notes

ughgclden · 3 years

Note

a third one??

i’ve got a pretty relaxed day today, so coming and going with responses is easier, downtime more conducive to spending 10/15 minutes writing you another letter, and i apologise in advance for the length of this one

in regards to my friend, she is really sweet, but we seem to have found ourselves in that dynamic when i never know if she’s being gay (platonic) or being Gay (romantic) and i’m already fairly emotionally stunted. house and i are alike on that front /hj

it was nice to be hugged like that, greeted like that, though, a reminder that it’s possible there are some people who do look for me in crowded rooms, even if it’s more likely than not that i’m not there. (incidentally, consider this and every other letter my way of hugging you)

i think if i had to teach mainly basics i would struggle, since i tend to go quickly and get excited, sometimes forgetting brains work differently than mine when it comes to retaining and learning information. i can see your point about the emotional support teacher though, i think there would be a… certain demographic that would be drawn to me, if you catch my drift /hj

i had an english teacher like that, she once gave me extra points on an essay for referencing dead poets society, and even though i don’t have her anymore, i still put her down as a reference, and email her from time to time anyway, she helped me a ton.

i think bookstore bee would be lovely, and it reminds me of aziraphale, which fits with you quite well. plus the best bookshops always have the pretty ladies behind the counters.

as for the other thing, i don’t want to minimise it by saying “it’s okay,” although that is my first impulse, mainly because objectively, it’s not, and because i know if someone said anything like that to someone i cared about i would. definitely get myself into trouble dealing with the bastard with the audacity to hurt my friends. that and i have the same anger for people like that, with the caveat that they can get away with directing it to me. truthfully, i’m used to it, which isn’t ideal, i admit. growing up, i went to a. forced integrated school, bringing in kids from other districts to raise test scores, and as most things turn out to be, the bussed in “smart” kids were mainly white, and the kids who originally lived in the neighbourhood were all hispanic. so naturally, as a hispanic kid from a different district in the gifted program, both sides hated me. i’ve got more than ample experience and that’s what makes it terrible. but i digress

the highs always comes with the lows, but in the words of ben platt, “when you’re high, i’ll take the lows, you can ebb and i can flow,” and i’ll be here to complement you in any way i can for as long as you’ll let me do so.

presenting is definitely scary, i recently had a debate kid ask me, “what’s the point of speaking if you’re not proving anyone wrong?” when i said i wasn’t in debate, but in speech, the sister program. the truth is, the point is telling your truth, even through other peoples’ words. sometimes we can’t find the words, but have no problem finding the memories that make pieces impactful, and true.

i bet in knitted jumpers with a skirt and docs you look lovely, and like someone remus lupin would be good friends with. i gravitate somewhere between remus and sirius, the two gay sides of me constantly battling that one out, so i end up with some… interesting outfits. cruella de ville is a goal, quite honestly, although i suppose technically shes classified as a villain, but then again, i’m a mentally unwell unstraight individual, so villains hot.

bee, if there’s anything i strive to do, it’s make you feel important, because you are, at the very very least, to me. and thats not silly, because believe me the sentiment is shared, thank you for spending time on me, love. i cant say it enough.

you are important, to reiterate, you are good, and kind, and the world could use more people like you. i only hope those lucky enough to experience your physical presence are sensible enough to know what a privilege they have in knowing you.

all of my love, bee, and a million wishes for a good day, good night, sweet dreams, and restful sleep.

until we meet again,

(likely tomorrow)

yours,

✨

please never apologise for the length of these, star. i'd read a whole novel of anything you say

it should me apologising for how terribly late my response is - i'm never much good at writing when i'm tired, or doing anything when i'm tired really. i'm one of those people who completely shuts down, and i wasn't going to torture you with my drowsy ramblings. im however writing this now with a fresh cup of coffee, so let's hope that helps

not knowing the distinction between gay and Gay is the worst; i can sympathise slightly on that front. when i was still figuring shit out i never knew if i just really loved my friend or really Loved my friend - it was all platonic, i know that now, but it was certainly a time. i think i'd always find myself searching for you in a crowded room - you have the sort of energy that draws people to you

you'd certainly draw in that certain demographic, i know it. although i think being the lgbt kids support teacher would be the largest honour bestowed onto a person, and no one else would suit that more perfectly than you. that's so sweet oh my god - i'm not too sure if my teacher had ever watched it, as sadly she never referenced it :( but she was very much a keating for me

i'm glad you know it's certainly not okay and i'm so fucking sorry that there's some ignorant assholes out there who think their stupid close-minded ideas and thoughts are important and need to be voiced, and they're justified in saying that shit. i truly hope things aren't as bad as they once were and if i could, i'd hurt anyone who's ever said that stuff to you (i can't fight, but i'd give it my best shot)

i totally agree with you- not everything has to be to prove a point, or make someone see something the way you do. sometimes it's just to communicate, to tell tales of love and beauty, to tell your own stories and thoughts. sometimes it's nice to talk just for the sake of it.

i think a mix of remus and sirius is wonderful - i aspire to have the sort of energy that sirius black gives off but alas, i'm more of a remus (or even a peter.. but we don't talk about that..) and yes villains are SO HOT OH MY GOD!!! yes they are bad ppl but they are hot and sexy so they can do as they please <3

we could go back and forth about this all day - but thank you lovely. not only do these make me feel important and loved, but they also let me talk about the smaller things, the little things that sometimes seem irrelevant because the world spins a little too fast to focus on the mundane. but even with you, the mundane is something spectacular.

have a lovely day, i hope it's filled with little bits of magic and wonder and joy. all my love star <33

#asks <3 #anon asks!#star anon #long post

3 notes · View notes

stones-x-bones · 3 years

Text

Pushing Daisies || Raina and Bex

TIMING: About a week ago PARTIES: @rainaim and @inbextween SUMMARY: Two soft witches meet in a cemetery. It...goes well? CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, Parental death mentions

Raina looked up at the sky, a dark curtain of hair falling over her shoulders as she craned back to see the tops of the trees begin to sway in the light breeze that had picked up. Yellowed leaves, pushed from rebirth of green, scattered at each grave that she looked upon. Some had flowers, some didn’t. It was like Knoxville, only there seemed to be more plots here. Which, if Raina had put any thought into it, she’d find it odd. Instead, she found herself confronted by the sheer amount of dead and wilting flowers. It’d been awhile since she’d done a sweep through a cemetery, and though White Crest’s was new, it still deserved the same care. Like back in Tennessee, she began to use her magic to pull water from the humidity in the air and trickle it down onto the small bunches of flowers that rested their petals against granite. She’d gotten two or three rows down, skipping over those that had already died, when she saw somebody. The witch ceased the use of her magic and pushed her hair out of her face. “It’s nice out, ain’t it?” She asked as she approached, awkwardly clasping her hands together in back of her. Raina finally took in her whole appearance-- a little worn down, but brightened up by the amount of flowers she held. “Ah, I’m sorry-- I didn’t mean t’interrupt or nothin.”

Since her first cemetery run with Eddie, Bex had found herself wanting to return more and more often. Every time she went there were new graves to clean and more flowers to replace. It felt like there were so many forgotten souls in every one and she didn’t have enough flowers or time to possible tend to them all. It made her sad. It broke her heart. She couldn’t enough for the living and now she couldn’t do enough for the dead, either. She’d stopped halfway through her second bouquet to sit, wearied by her lack of sleep and the pain in the side. Her palm pressed against the still stiff bandages, keeping her shirt from rubbing against stitches that already hurt. She held the flowers tightly and looked at the grave in front of her. William Fairfax. She had no idea who he was, how could she possibly? He’d died over a hundred years ago. There probably wasn’t a soul in town who knew he was. That was probably why his grave was covered in moss and there hadn’t been a flower on it since Bex had last made her way through. She plucked out an orange pansy and set it in front, kneeling down, then, the begin to scrape off the moss when a voice caught her off guard. Startled, she turned to look back. “Oh, um--” she looked up at the trees, the wind swaying through them. Clouds drifting lazy in the blue above. “It is, yeah.” Her gaze returned to the young woman curiously. “I-- is this-- did you know him? Are you here visiting someone? I-- I’m sorry if you did. There haven’t been flowers here in a while and I like to put some on all the graves that don’t have them. My friend-- boyfriend-- told me not enough people appreciate the dead and I just don’t want anyone to be that forgotten.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean t’scare you.” Raina offered a small smile. The girl looked worse for wear. The witch wasn’t the type of person to pry or ask a stranger what had happened so she quickly averted her attention to the flowers that the brunette held to her chest. “Nah, I’m not visitin’ nobody.” She thought about her father and how her aunt had arranged for him to be transported back to California. It made her sad that even if she did decide to ever return to Tennessee, she wouldn’t have anything to go back to. Not her parents, not her aunt. Not even her house. Raina smiled at the girl before kneeling down next to a grave that had a few dead flowers and moss grown against the nameplate. She cleared it away and stepped to the side so that the girl could place a flower there. She dusted her hands off on her paint dripped jeans and hummed. “I’m actually new here… this is just somethin’ I’d do back home.” Though Raina couldn’t tell what she should and shouldn’t fear in White Crest, something told her that she was safe here. “You’re right though…” It had taken her mother leaving for Raina to truly understand what loss did to people, and when her father had… Raina took a deep breath. She wouldn’t think of that here. “It’s nice, you doin’ this for people you don’t even know.” She smiled sadly down at the graves that were laid out at their feet. “Mind if I help you?” Raina knew she shouldn’t use her magic here out in the open, or in the company of somebody else she didn’t know-- she’d risked too much already.

“Oh, no! You-- you’re fine! I just wasn’t paying attention. It’s fine,” Bex insisted. The other girl was being really kind, not questioning why Bex was standing over someone’s grave she didn’t know with a bundle of flowers. She’d already had a few people yell at her, but not today. It was cloudy and it looked like it was going to rain-- that always chased people away. She dropped her gaze back to the other girl and gave her best attempt at a smile back. “I-- oh. That’s--” she turned to look back at the grave and watch as the girl cleaned it off. “I didn’t know other people did this kidna stuff. The cemeteries here aren’t exactly--” safe. But that was mostly just at night. Nodding, she came over to the new grave and plucked out a few flowers, placing them gently in front of the name plate. “I just want them to know they’re cared for,” she said, brushing her fingertips gently across the name carved into the stone tablet. Gabriella Rocha. “I’d love some help, actually.” And some company would be nice, but she left those words unsaid. Standing back up, she brushed the grass from her knees, little wet spots staining her tights and gestured for them to move on down the line to the next unkempt grave. “You said you’re new in town? How recently did you get here?”

Raina knew that kindness, especially extended towards the dead, was often unfound. It was important to the witch that such kindness be expressed, and the fact that somebody else was following that line of thought, too, warmed her heart. Raina offered her a soft smile before she stepped to the side, allowing for the girl to place another flower at one of the graves. There were so many, Raina thought. She’d have to buy out the entire floral shop in order to make up for those who’d gone unvisited. “I know I just met you ‘an all, but what you’re doin’ is very kind.” Raina adjusted the hem of her dress as she followed after the girl as she gestured to move onward. “I know I probably implied that already, but--” She looked up to the sky. Heavy clouds hung above them. There’d be a storm later. She could feel the energy buzzing along her skin, the magic vibrating in her veins. “Oh, yeah! I’m very new.” She thought for a moment. “Well, a little over a month now…” She laughed, “so I guess I ain’t as fresh as a newborn calf or nothin’, but new in the respect of not knowin’ much ‘bout this place.” Raina hummed and held out her hand for a flower as she knelt down next to a grave. Yvonne Agron. “I’m from Tennessee, but I won’t bother you with the specifics.”

��Oh, um-- thank-- that’s nice of you to say,” Bex stuttered through her words again. It wasn’t that she was nervous, simply caught off guard. She hadn’t expected company while on her graveyard walk, and it wasn’t that it wasn’t welcomed, she just wasn’t prepared. Usually when she had company, she had time to prepare, to mentally prep herself for being around another person. This was...surprising. But she was nothing if not adaptable. She smiled. “A month is still pretty new! But um, yeah. This place is--” she looked around the cemetery, watching the other girl set a flower down on another grave, “--different than a lot of other towns. How um-- how are you finding it so far? Is it treating you well? I know it can be a little crazy sometimes, but, like-- it can be good, too.” Who was she trying to convince? What good had White Crest given her lately? She swallowed. “Tennessee? What’s it like there? I...know literally nothing about it except for the state flag and capital and what year it was given stateship.”

“Oh, well…” Raina thought for a moment. She’d been through the ringer, that much was true. Between the mime, the dog-not-dog, and then the portal she’d dropped through with Adam, it was hard to really tell what was good and what was bad. This, the witch decided, was one of the good. “It has its moments. I expect that’s true of any town, y’know?” The older woman offered a smile to her company before she got to her feet. “Overall, I think it’s hard to judge a place based on only livin’ here for bout a month or so… I’m tryin’ to give it a fair chance b’fore I try to act like it’s all terrible.” She wanted to find the good. She had to find the good. Raina, overall, wanted nothing more than to find others like her. When the stranger mentioned that she knew the textbook details of Tennessee, Raina couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Well, you’d be prepared for any kinda test, wouldn’t you?” She hummed. “Gotta say, the food scene is different. People are a lot kinder in places like Knoxville, but that might just be false hospitality. Though, I will admit, I ain’t ever seen lobsters the size of the ones here.” She cleared away some overgrown moss from another grave before turning her attention back to the girl. “How long’ve you been hangin’ around?” She asked with another soft smile.

“Oh, no, yeah--” Bex said, nodding, “I don’t think this place is all terrible. I think there’s actually a lot of good. But sometimes a lot of bad things happen to those good people, those good things, and it feels like there’s only bad. But-- but that’s not true.” She stopped herself from rambling some more and helped the girl clear off the rest of the next grave, brushing her hand on her thighs to wipe them clean. “It’s nice, though,” she stated, “that you’re willing to give it a chance.” She needed to give it a chance, too, didn’t she? She looked back over at Raina. “Oh, uh-- sorry. I know a lot of random facts, I like reading encyclopedias and fact books, or websites that have daily facts and stuff. I like history the most, but, really, anything I can learn is good. I just like learning.” She set down the last of the flowers in her hand at the current grave. “Yeah, the food here is mostly coastal, lots of fish. It’s kinda hard for me to find stuff to eat here, being a vegetarian and all, but there’s a few good choices! I can tell you the best places around, if you want.” She glanced around the cemetery before making her way over to a nearby bench, ushering the girl to follow her. “Umm, technically I grew up here.” She pointed across the way, towards the ocean, to the island that sat just a short ferry ride away from the main town. “Over on Harmony Island.”

“Honestly, I understand that.” Raina looked down at the grave before her for a beat of a second too long and she felt her heart sink. She finally managed to look away. “Bad things happenin’ to good people… It ain’t cosmic, like some people wanna believe, but…” She stayed silent for a moment before getting to her feet, “I think it’s important to recognize what’s ‘cause of you and what’s outta your control. Makes siftin’ through the bad and the good a lot easier.” At least, in her experience it had been. She knew that the circumstances with her parents were out of her control, and so she tried not to dwell on them as if they were her fault. What good would it do? Of course, it was easier said than done. Raina shook her head at the apology that seemed to spill. “You got nothin’ to apologize for. It’s good to have interests.” It occurred to her that this girl could probably school her on Tennessee trivia, and Raina had lived there. “You must be really smart then?” She didn’t want to equate somebody’s technical capabilities of learning to whether or not they’d be intelligent, but there was something about her that seemed as though Raina was right. “I don’t mind seafood. Didn’t get much of it back in Tennessee. We had bass, catfish, mostly. Not like the stuff here that I’ve seen at the markets.” Raina followed her to the bench and wiped her hands against her dress as she sat down, uncaring about the dirt that covered her palms. Her dark navy dress wouldn’t stain easily. She looked over at her company when she spoke, then followed her finger to the ocean. “Harmony Island?” She quirked a brow. “Ain’t been there yet, I don’t think.” She’d remember taking a ferry somewhere. She let out a laugh as soon as she realized she hadn’t yet offered her name. “I’m Raina by the way,” She looked over at the girl with a smile. “It’s nice t’meet you.”

Bex didn’t entirely know if what the other girl said was true, but she wasn’t going to argue. People all believed different things, and that was okay to her. Maybe it just gave her comfort to know there was some sort of divine essence or presence looking over everything, maybe even punishing those who did bad, rewarding those who did good. Or maybe it just made her feel worse. She hadn’t really decided yet. She still wasn’t even sure how her magic fit in with her faith, but she was trying. “Yeah, that’s true. It’s...easier to process things if you look at it that way, I guess.” She rubbed her arm nervously. “Smart? Oh, um, I mean-- I’m really good at memorizing stuff and remembering things like dates and names and stuff like that. But, like-- there’s so many different types of intelligence, you know? Not just book smarts, like mine.”

She looked over at her companion and smiled, softly. It didn’t quite reach her eyes. “My name’s Bexley. And uh, you probably wouldn’t unless you live there. There’s not much out there except insanely expensive housing and a cemetery.” Bex leaned back on the bench and looked up at the greying sky again. “It’s nice to meet you, too. I hope this place isn’t too um-- cruel to you.”

“There are different levels, absolutely.” Raina had never considered herself that smart, but she knew her stuff. She knew how to study, and that’s most of what had helped her throughout school. That, and her determination. “Everyone’s a ‘lil different.” She offered Bex a smile before stretching her legs out before her. The toes of her shoes were dirty, but she made no move to reach down to dust them off. Instead, she flattened out her feet against the ground and looked out towards the plethora of gravestones that surrounded them. It was quiet for the most part. She wondered how many visitors this place got. “No use in judgin’ people based on what they’re capable of, or incapable of.” She wrung her hands together in her lap, gathering some of the fabric of her dress to keep it from sweeping the ground. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Bex.” She smiled at her company, all the way until it reached her eyes. “Cruel?” The longer she looked at the young girl, the easier it was to tell that she’d been through hardships. Whatever those looked like, Raina was unsure. She didn’t feel sorry for her, but rather, she felt sympathetic. “I hope that you’re not lost to it, either.” She hummed under her breath as she looked towards the tree line. “Sometimes cruelty is just preparin’ us for what’s to come. Sucks, it sure does, but hopefully…” She paused, “it can lead to good things, beautiful things.” She hoped that everything she’d gone through with her father, her mother, even her aunt-- that it all leading her to White Crest served some kind of relief. “That bein’ said, as a newcomer, I’m havin’ the hopes for m’self, and everyone I run into.”

It was a relief to hear the other girl-- Raina-- say some of the things she was. Bex relaxed a little, next to the stranger not quite stranger on the bench next to her. She wasn’t going to hurt her. Bex never knew these days, who would and who wouldn’t. What would and what wouldn’t. She was tired of it. She scrubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, trying to wipe away the weariness and the anxiety. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Raina,” she finally gave a true smile, and though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, it wrinkled the fringes of them and scrunched her nose. Her gaze dropped as she looked at her feet, her flats covered in dirt. Her mother would scold her if she came home dirty like this, but she knew she could clean up in the ferry port bathroom. Slowly, she stood, turning her head back to look at her companion. “Hopefully,” she answered, clasping her hands together. “Thanks for talking with me and um--” she motioned back to the graves they’d cleaned. It’d only been a few, but it was still something she had to feel good about. The line of flowers that sat in the yard were bright and vibrant and she hoped the spirits she couldn’t see were at least a little happy someone cared about them. “Helping me with those. Maybe I”ll see you again sometime.” She’d wanted to offer to meet up with her again, but her life was dicey, she didn’t know if she could. “I hope things treat you well, too.” But if even her hope was fading, what good were the words? Bex drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll um-- this was nice. I’ll...I’ll see you around.” The clouds were getting darker, which meant rain. She needed to be home before that. She gave Raina a small wave before she turned to head off, wishing she could’ve just stayed on that bench. There was something about the girl she’d met, something familiar. Maybe it was just the hope they shared, that this town didn’t have to be cruel, that maybe it was preparing them for something better. Maybe it was something more. Maybe she’d never find out. Her eyes looked back at her retreating figure. Maybe she would. She wanted to.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: raina #pushing daisies #domestic abuse tw #parental death tw #raina

4 notes · View notes

tiny-smallest · 3 years

Text

cruellest choir

Rating: T Characters: The Prince, Queen Vanessa Warnings: domestic violence since that’s what killed the Prince, as well as the lightest descriptions of sex and candid mention of the word but zero details about the act itself Description: It's a very old building. There are many pipes criss-crossing along the cellar ceiling, and they all make noise. The prince has known this house long enough to know what's in use based on which pipe is making noise.

It's how he knows what Vanessa is doing even from the cellar.

Also on AO3!

—

Hi guess who has a new comfort character.

—

The manor was a lovingly tended-to building. Always clean, always bright. Whichever member of the royal family had this place built--and Luka, who once knew this by heart, struggled to remember the name around an ever-growing haze of agony, cold, and numbness--clearly knew what they were doing when they had the house designed.

A large, gorgeous house with expensive, tasteful furnishings to show off the status of the family, but small enough to feel homey and cozy. Luka had visited an aunt or two as a child with giant, sprawling places to get lost in, and while it was fun to explore, he could not imagine living in such a place. Big, maze-like homes were fun to explore, but to live in? Luka couldn't imagine having so much space just to show off your wealth. Why not invest that in better places? A home full of nice furniture was one thing, but to occupy so much land when you would use maybe a small percentage of it just felt wasteful.

His own family home was not as big as his aunt's, but still quite large. But for the fact that the big space allowed for places to hide from his parents' endless screaming matches, he'd have wished for something more homey.

Vanessa's manor was the first place he'd ever felt truly at home in- though he would attribute that more to Vanessa herself rather than just the house. Her mother certainly hadn't made it feel like a home, the way her cold, ruthless eyes watched him anytime he so much as breathed near her daughter, the way she would cower and shiver in on herself when the queen's attention was drawn to her, but Vanessa had brought light and love to the place; the girl glowed whenever he stepped inside to see her, and would usher him into the kitchen to taste-test whatever new adventure she was attempting at the stove; her cookies were just the most heavenly thing to ever hit his tongue, and he was happy to try whatever she was testing at the time of his visit, especially since odds were he could stay far longer than taste-testing would actually require, and fill her time waiting for dough to rise or cookies to bake with conversation instead of forcing her to endure the wait alone.

The one silver lining of the queen was her ailing health; as heartless and cruel as Luka felt to think that, it was true that due to her fragility, she spent most of her time in her room, in her wheelchair, away from everyone else. So long as she remained in that room in her bitterness, the two of them could pass the hours however they liked, and always in bliss.

He tried, once, to coax the queen to join them. Just once. It ended with a slap to his face and a low, cold threat towards her daughter. He never tried again after that.

A week later the queen was discovered dead at the bottom of the stairs, wheelchair overturned at her side. Unnerving, but Luka couldn't pretend he was exactly... sorry.

It made him wonder if he was a bad person.

Vanessa was far more important, though- for all the clashes they'd had, this was her mother. He knew the complicated feelings that came with burying a parent who acted the way that woman did. For many hours they sat together in the attic observatory, in the armchairs by the telescope, and he held her.

It had been many months since the present-day Luka had seen that room, but he could still recall it clearly, especially as it was on that day. Vanessa, all in black, silent as the grave her mother would be lowered into, lay in his arms as he held her. The sun shone brightly that day through the many windows. He remembered the dust motes floating in the sunlight. Remembered thinking how many joyful hours they'd spent in this room, her seated in this same armchair watching him watch the stars, and wondering if this place would be forever tainted by the memory of what was happening at that very moment.

Remembered the moment the advisor stepped in and told Vanessa she would become the new queen, and how terrified she was.

Of course, she needn't be crowned right away, and she quickly agreed to wait a year or more to recover. Luka didn't mind. The queen's death was not entirely unexpected- little by little, the ailing monarch's duties had been transferred to Vanessa, but it so overwhelmed her that Luka quietly stepped in to handle them instead. This would mostly be business as usual, except now with the queen gone, they had the breathing room to think about where to go from here.

The bedroom came to mind. Luka of the present day watched his breath fog in front of him and let his sluggish thoughts step from the memory of the observatory and that day into the bedroom he moved into on the day he came to live with his betrothed. It was a gorgeous room and he instantly felt more at home there than he ever had in the place he was raised in. There was the cozy bed he missed dearly right now, the bedspread with stars and moons on it, and the comfy armchair, and the several bookshelves. The lovely wardrobe. The shelf he stored his violin on, and the cabinet in which he stored his paints and other art supplies. The neat little fireplace, the mantle of which he decorated with the presents his love had given him. The clothesline he eventually rigged from which to hang his paintings as they dried. The desk he spent so much of his life at as he worked to maintain the kingdom. He wrote out his application to school at that desk. He was so excited to send it off and more excited still to get a letter of acceptance back.

He spent so many nights in that room, dreaming, writing, playing, painting. So many nights spent reading. Vanessa was below him and upon hearing how miserable she was at night he took two cans and a string and rigged a tin can telephone for them and sent the other end down to dangle at her window.

Oh, the nights they spent talking until dawn. Sometimes he fell asleep, and the can would nearly slip from his grasp to fall out the window. She berated him for that, but he understood why. God help them if her mother caught them doing this. The can didn't need to risk banging against something and waking anyone.

He was always messing up, though. Maybe that was why he wanted to go to law school so terribly. Besides just the fact that he desperately needed to understand law better to handle the kingdom, besides just the fact that the passion to protect the innocent burned through his being, besides just the passion for understanding how things were run, itself... it would be nice if he could actually become a lawyer, and prove he was up to any task regardless how grueling it was.

The room below, though...

He thought about the bedroom he moved into after the queen's death, his beloved's room. Vanessa was frightened at first even though she wanted it, but when Luka stepped in and threw himself on the bed and rolled himself into a blanket burrito she broke into soft little giggles and tentatively followed him. It wasn't long before her room became their room.

Technically it wasn't proper for him to move in there until they were married, but despite Vanessa's fears, nobody seemed inclined to pick a fight with the young couple and Luka was relieved. Their wedding was inevitable anyway, so it wasn't like either of them were leading the other on. You would have to be blind or denser than a brick to not see how in love they were. Luka loved calling Vanessa 'my future wife' whenever he had the opportunity, and oftentimes to random strangers, just to feel the rush of love and joy it brought him and, if she were nearby, hers as well.

Fiancé. He had a fiancé. It had left him feeling like floating away.

How far away that seemed now.

The bed was soft and warm and big, and they reveled in curling into each other, bodies folded against one another like they were puzzle pieces meant to fit. Sometimes he would wake up and she would be so beautiful against him he could scarcely breathe.

And he got to do that every single morning, and would for the rest of their lives. There was no queen anymore to insist they stay apart and not touch each other too long.

Maybe it was that woman's obvious disdain for them both and their relationship and her ironclad belief they were off having sex behind her back every single second, but the second she was gone and the fear of their physical safety was off the table the topic had shyly come up. He truly no longer remembered if it was his or her idea but it turned out that the master bedroom with a lock that actually worked (he suspected the lock on his bedroom was broken for not innocent reasons) was good for more than just the mundane sweetness of sharing a sleeping space. It turned out to also be a great place for privacy to ensure their spiteful foray into something a touch more spicy stayed between them.

Why not? The dead queen had done everything she could short of ordering his imprisonment or death to keep them apart, had at every turn sneered her belief that his thoughts were lecherous and disgusting. How could anyone want her daughter but for her body?

Well, excuse you, ma'am. He wanted her for everything she was and spent his life proving it to her.

Oh, did he ever spend his life proving it to her.

If her mother was going to be so sure she was a floozy and he was a creep, and now she was dead and unable to harm them, what was the wrong in enjoying each other in every way they could? They'd be married soon enough. Didn't they want each other?

And... yes. He did. He wanted her so badly. In every aspect, every way; he wanted to get drunk on her presence until he was dizzy with it. Every part of his body screamed for want of her but in that moment it gathered mostly between his legs, and she felt the same, so why not indulge?

At the time it was the most frightening thing he'd ever done. It wasn't perfect. Vanessa was disappointed it wasn't like the fairytales and was very candid about what he did wrong. He was disappointed and upset that she was, that he hadn't been good enough to give her this.

Funny, how a memory can latch onto a room like that. That night was the first night that room didn't feel like home, her presence or no. Many times they allowed themselves to act on the things they felt in that room ended with him feeling like that; even with all of his love for her, that was one thing he couldn't seem to do right.

A weak laugh cracked free of his throat, puffed upwards in warmth and breath that he couldn't afford to spare. It would seem there were many things he couldn't do right. Why did he fail so terribly at love? He felt it so strongly that doing it should be so easy, but if he was any good at it, none of this would have happened.

If he was any good at loving her, she wouldn't always be so afraid he'd leave. He would not be down here right now.

A pipe above him groaned. The bathroom, he thought idly. His thoughts wandered with the pipe, remembering that big beautiful bathroom. He had been surprised by the size of that bathtub, but it didn't exactly take much adjustment to grow used to it. Maybe he didn't like wasteful, but that didn't mean he would refuse to indulge in a few choice luxuries, and sometimes after hunching over a desk for twelve hours he needed a hot bath and wanted to stretch out in it.

Vanessa preferred showers. He liked them too, but not nearly as long as she did. She would happily spend a whole hour just under the water, never mind the time needed to do the other things, regardless of what she might be late for if she did that. He once teased her for it, a giggling little Trying to boil yourself alive, again, are we? I know they're not fun but the daily briefings aren't that bad.

He didn't make that mistake again.

After he moved into Vanessa's room she, and he remembered this was her idea, floated the idea of taking a bath together. It was magical; in fact he'd argue it was better than the sex. It certainly ended with him feeling happier; he didn't mess up with this one. She was nearly comatose with happy beneath his touch as he washed her hair, massaging her scalp in small circles, carefully making his way through her long, golden tresses.

When she was happy, so was he. Watching her melt so readily beneath his hand and smile with sleepy love up at him may as well have turned his heart into a butterfly for how much it fluttered in his chest.

The pipe of the present drew him from his dozing dream, the hazy memories and near-sleep popping like the soap suds of long ago. He hung there for a few minutes in cruel reality once more, wishing he could fall back into a haze but unable to ignore the constant itch at the back of his mind.

That's the bathroom. The actual realization hit with a dropping of his stomach; he suddenly felt far more awake than he wanted to, even with exhaustion pulling on every part of him. There was only one reason the pipe for the bathroom's water would keep making that sound.

She's taking a shower.

She is taking a shower while I-

Something tore from his throat. He thought he had run out of tears hours ago, or maybe longer, but the cold wet tracks on his face proved him wrong. His breath fogged in front of him with his weak sobs, his chest aching from the inside out. Upstairs, a very different kind of fog would be filling the room he had once shared with her.

The pipe continued to sing, a haunting chorus that felt like it was growing louder and louder, drowning out his pitiful weeping until it silenced all together as he was pulled quietly, mercifully, into the soft blackness of unconsciousness.

#a hat in time #ahit prince #ahit vanessa #ahit snatcher #ahit the prince #tagged snatcher since the prince BECOMES him so anything i write with him is likely gonna be linked to this #ahit spoilers #my writing

16 notes · View notes

hazbinextgeneration · 3 years

Text

Into The Casino Ch16

(WARNING: Fight scenes including hair pulling and a death is contained within this chapter as well as past abuse mentioned. If this makes you uncomfortable please don't read. You have been warned.) What happened on the way home was..Well...Interesting to say the least. The strange warm feeling in his chest still hadn't gone away even after they were leaving. The gal feeling exhausted enough to fall asleep against his shoulder and ONLY because he was a gentleman, he wrapped an arm around her and allowed her to lean against him on the way home. Cyber was a little confused on his silence and the face he made as he glanced out the window on the way back, but she chalked it up to him calculating about the new possible deals he could make or perhaps maybe he was thinking about how to con someone over again. He had that hard thinking face over him and it was best to let him think at times. So she didn't argue when the limo finally stopped in front of their home, and he lightly shook the sleeping beauty awake. Her purple eyes blinking and she yawned tiredly, and he told Cyber to go take her back and make sure she got some rest. Thankfully Leaving Minight in charge with Disease following her orders was a grand idea. No harm was done to the place while they were gone. ....Sleep didn't come easy to him that night surprisingly but he managed. The next day was like it didn't even happen. In fact it was very normal. He got up, gave the usually orders to everyone who would get their assignments from him and told her the small list of personal things he needed her to be done that day. Which included cleaning out his office, but he made sure that all the valuable souls were very well secured and locked away where only he or Cyber could retrieve them. She smiled brightly and agreed as usually before trotting on her merry way...but this time that small warm feeling returned...he shrugged it off and continued onto the floor with Cyber. Business as usually.

Except the day after that the small feeling happened again. And again. And Again. And again. AND AGAIN!! Before he knew it nearly a month had passed with that strange small warm feeling in his chest was still there whenever he spoke to her, but he simply ignored it as he had better things to get done. Until one day he had a knock at the office door. He looked to the door for a moment before looking back down to the papers in his hands.

"Come in. Door's open." Well the door did open and in stepped the timid creature. He was a bit surprised she of all people would come in at this time of day, but he gave that famous smile none the less. "Aw, Pet.~ Hello, my dear. What can I do for you today? Is Disease bothering you again?"

She didn't answer straight away, but still gave a small smile. "N-No. I actually wanted to ask you something.''

"Ask away my dear! Im always happy to hear from you." Her question wasn't really something he would be expecting.

As she sheepishly rubbed her arm and looked everywhere but him. "A-Actually, I-I was wondering if you'd ever want to go dancing with me again s-sometime. I-It was really fun and I-" She looked back to him with a small smile. "I think..I want t-to get to know you better."

Well...that certainly was unexpected, but that just meant more progress! So he happily grinned politely as her sweet offer to him. "Darling. Of course! I would be delighted to spend time with you." His red eyes glanced to the grandfather on the otherside of the office before glancing back to her. "Tell you what. Why don't you join me for tea in an hour? We'll have plenty of time to talk then."

Her ears perked up with a bigger smile. "R-Really? S-Sure. I'd really like that."

He chuckled. "Very well then. In the meantime, do be a dear and fetch me another cup of coffee, will you? This business deal won't straighten itself out."

She happily agreed and he was eventually rewarded with a new steaming mug of coffee and he was happily looking through the papers he held within his hands as the clock clicked away on the wall across from them. Instead of leaving as soon as she gave him the mug, she stayed and looked curiously to the papers he held with innocent naivity. Oh it made him chuckle.

"What are you dealing with this time?" An innocent enough question.

"The owner of the winery next door has offered to sell it to me, but getting a hold of him is as easy as putting a fire out with gas." Which meant it wasn't easy at all. What could the fool possibly be doing that was so much more important than selling him the dam place if he offered in the first place?!

She made an 'oh' and blinked back to him. "Well I think it'd be a great addition to the casino."

"Is that right?"

She nodded. "Absolutely! With your business managing skills I bet you could connect the two easily. Maybe even open up a second larger bar inside it. Those are pretty popular as I've heard." Her brows furrowed in thought. "But maybe not make it so smoke ridden or blast that ridiculous excuse for music around, not a lot of people like those places. By the looks of all your friends at the party I'd say a few of them would pay a pretty penny to have one place around here that wasn't so....exotic like Rita's." She didn't even notice Lou had stopped midway through a sip and looked up at her. "With Midnight's potion making, you could probably even make your own brand and sell it too! Plus if you expanded the winery to double the size and enhanced the magical power of turning grapes into wine, I bet you'd get a lot more customers. A lot of people would like real authentic wine made from real grapes like on the surface instead of..how did Disease put it? 'Cheap gunk water'? And since you'd be able to grow your own grapes and own the brewery, you'd be able to make yourself some as well with no cost at all." She turned to him with a smile but paused seeing his face. "Oh..I-Im sorry. W-Was I talking too much?"

"..No. No actually. All those sounds like marvelous ideas!" He smiled before sipping that bitter tasting drink.

"Really?!"

He chuckled again. "But of course. But I am curious. Where did you learn all your business know how anyhow? I know you explained your father was a prominent business man, probably not as successful as yours truly, but by what you told me about him and your past, he didn't seem too keen on letting a lady such as you keep on the family business. No offense."

Her eyes glanced down for a moment. "He-...He often dragged me along to..c-certain business meetings if he knew someone had a son. I heard a lot at those places."

He glanced up at her for a moment. "....And I am to assume he only brought you along to use you as some kind of token in case he saw an opportunity to use you to get information from said sons? Or am I assuming something too large?"

"No. You're p-pretty spot on. He didn't see me for anything else."

"What of your mother?" If she was spilling information, he might as well get as much as he could get from her. Never know when it might come in handy.

She shrugged. "I don't know. My parents got divorced when I was a baby and she...s-she left me with him. N-Never met her."

"Oh, I see....Well I am sorry for your situation." He went back to his papers with another sip.

"Thank you..." She looked at him. "What was your family like?"

He paused...before blinking and looking back up to her. "My family?" She nodded and he went silent for a moment. ".....They were...terrible people let's say. A gambling man and his not so wonderful wife is what resulted in myself."

"Is that why you're so good at running a casino?"

He chuckled. Oh if only she really knew the many nights he was forced from a young age to stand watch as his father and his 'friends' gambled any and all money away, drinking away their sorrows. Of course he never did, instead he was much more interested in what the men did with the cards. And eventually he swiped a deck himself and began practicing when he was bored, which lead to him developing his own tricks. His own destiny carved out by himself. And the name he made back on the surface. He sometimes wondered if his name was still up there somewhere besides obviously on a tombstone. Were there any records of himself from his bloody gang wars? Probably not because then he was still nothing but a small fish in a big pond, but you could imagine his surprise when he woke up to him tumbling down and hitting the sidewalk hard when he first got here. Confused as all hell but quickly able to recover. He had to claw his way up the ranks and fought tooth and nail to get there, but it all paid off now didn't it. Hard work always paid off in the end in his experience. Sometimes he wondered what his poor parents faces would be if they could see him now? An overlord of hell and richer than they would ever dream! That's the difference between him and them. He was smart with his money and knew how to play the game.

"You could say so. But I like to believe it's more thanks to my natural ability to spot the obvious good things in life before they slip away.~"

"Oh. Well I'd say you have a wonderful ability!"

He chuckled more at her politeness. "Thank you. But now I believe I promised that tea."

Things were FINALLY starting to look more progressive with Midnight's assignment as over the next few days she was finally able to restore them to their (almost) original state and they looked a lot cleaner than when he first got them. He was pleased none the less, but she told him they'd need to test them which was a small problem. Obviously he couldn't let anyone know he had them for confidential reasons, so it'd be a bit tricky. But he would figure it out later. He was making great progress bout everywhere it seemed. The pretty pet wanted to spend more time with him and he was happily to oblige, sometimes for tea, other times for that promised dancing he promised. He was surprised to find out she knew the jitterbug and charleton, though it was quite obvious she was still rusty. He was happy to escort her through the small steps and be close to her-..Uh! I mean to get her to easily go with what he said of course. It had nothing to do with her giggles or the surprise squeaks she'd make when he surprised her, or the fact she basically enjoyed the same things he did. It was just because he enjoyed dancing and it was nice to have someone compliment his singing and dancing skills. But it certainly stroked his ego as Midnight would oh so lovely put it. She wasn't...bad to have around. Compliments and politeness aside, she was very down to earth and ..surprisingly passionate. Actually dimallishing Rita's bar when he asked her what could be better about it. He laughed and honestly wondered what Rita would think if she knew someone as weak as her thought her place was a 'smelly bin of smoke and sweat that needed a few windows and MORE than just a few scented candles'.

Well after that little laugh he knew just the position to promote her to. So when he called her up to come to his office, she was pretty surprised when he explained why.

She blinked. "Personal asisntant?"

He hummed and nodded. "That's right, Dear! I feel as if merely being a secretary was ..undermining your abilities. You'd still have your duties AS my secretary but with more duties added on. But I promise the extra work would be worth the effort."

"What exactly are they?"

"You'd be entrusted with taking care of my more personal property. For example you're now in charge of making sure my space her is always in order and things are where I can find them, you'd be in charge of making sure my meals are delivered, and of course as my right hand asistant you'd be accompying me on business if it calls for it. But if it sounds too much too soon for you, I'll gladly just not give the promotion."

And wouldn't you know it. Hook. Line. And sinker. He made it seemed like something much better than it was and of course she agreed right away it would be a fantastic idea. And the next day she got too it. If there was another thing he could say about her it was that it was she was a hard worker, and she worked her tail off to prove she earned that little spot. Or maybe it was because some part of her still felt scared or intimidated by him. Didn't matter for now. Progress was being made throughout. She would still flinch lightly when he wrapped an arm around her or patted her back, but it was MUCH better than before. Couldn't say the same thing about everyone else or big crowds. She still was timid around those and that was just fine with him. The less interaction beyond his little crew the better. He gets to spend more time with her and vise versa! Everyone wins. Especially him. Though there was still a matter of that small warm feeling that wasn't really that small anymore, and he had a sneaking feeling as to what it could've possibly been, but he still pushed the unimportant thing aside for now. Right now he had FINALLY gotten a hold of the man who wanted to sell him the place and it was certainly about time. He should have the documents on his next business run. Which would happen to be his little pet's first one with him to be exact. Not anywhere special, just the casino floor. Laughing, cheers, and music filled the air within the casino as demons of all kinds gambled their money away or drank themselves drunk. A usual day for the casino staff....Well, almost everyone. The clicking of hooves made their way down the hallway towards the more noisier side of the whole casino. The woman flipped through the many papers piled within her arms. She finally pulled one from the back, scanning her eyes over it before looking up at the person walking next to her smiling nervously. "T-The deed to the winery next door has successfully been obtained like you wanted." The taller male smiled down at her. "Excellent!" He snatched the document from her and smirked down at it. "With this we'll no longer have to rely on cheap black market booze. How much have we left in stock, Pet?" Her ears went back at the nickname, but answered, "I....don't know. I haven't looked yet." He hummed and gave her a look. "Go ask Rouge, that beer bug ought to give you the answer, then get back to me."

Her eyes blinked confused up at him and she rose a brow. "Rouge?"

A sudden realization came over him and he sighed. "Oh, yes! You two haven't properly been introduced yet! Silly me!" From where they were standing he pointed a hand across the giant room where she could barely make out the bar. "Rouge is one of my floor managers but she mostly just handles the many bars and kitchen areas I have around here. You can't miss her really. She really bugs you persay." He chuckled..but sighed again at her still confused face. "She's a bug demon. Green hair, wings- You can't miss her."

"Oh. I see."

"Yes, now be a dear and ask her how much stock we have so I can calculate how soon we can easily use my newly obtained purchase.~" A red claw was extended to pull back a stray gold hair from her face. She visibly flinched at the touch and stopped an her purple eyes darted at him. He only chuckled and leaned forward a little. "You can do that. Can't you, Pet?~" She gulped and managed to not stutter despite the heat in her face. "Of course I can." His hand patter her cheek before retracting back and chuckling. "I thought so.~ Now-" He began walking again with her quickly following behind. "-I must go speak with a very important client. No go find Rouge. She'll give you what you need." "Yes, Sir." He often used nicknames with her and very flirty gestures, but after working for him for a couple months she got used to it....Kinda. He seemed to get a chuckle out of seeing her squirm and those god forbidden squeak sounds she made. Though putting up with his antics was better than fighting for survival on the streets. Even if it meant her hand. They came to the end of the hallway where the loud sounds of music and voices were. Without so much but a side smile at her, he turned to the left and quickly disappeared among the crowd of other demons. She watched after him for a moment, but soon went the opposite way. It wasn't comfortable being around so many possibly dangerous demons, but most were too busy with their games to pay attention to her. The ones that DID she knew stared at her body(or more specifically her exposed leg or horn). She made the mistake of looking into the face of one of her 'admirers' as she walked past. The grimy man visibly smirked at her and licked his fangs.....which made her cringe, duck her head, and pick up her pace. The bar couldn't be far now, right? ....Right! The bar wasn't as crowded as he thought it'd be, but it was still pretty packed. In the middle of it all was the flutter of green wings as the insect demon passed out drinks fast with ease. Years of experience right there. And she blinked. That must've been the Rouge Lou was telling her about. She didn't notice her at first, but (when she got close enough) Rouge smiled in her direction and placed her hands on the counter as she sat down. "Hey there, Fuzzy. You here for a drink?" She gestured to the wide shelves behind her. "We got lots of choices to choose from, so pick your poison." She smiled and took a seat. "N-No. Lou wanted to know how much alcohol was left in stock." Rouge rose a brow in confusion and she remembered that they hadn't been introduced yet. So not one for being rude, she stuck a hand out. "I-I-Im Amalfia. Your coworker? Im sure we hadn't met." She still looked confused before she gave a knowing smile and grabbing her hand. "Oh yeah! I recognize your name from Disease telling me all about you and the big guy spending some time together." She smiled before looking down at the paperwork she held then back to her. "Someone's been busy." She brought her arms up to rest them and the papers on the bar and gave a smile. "It's not that bad. It's certainly better than doing laundry o-or sweeping the floors, b-but Im just here because he wants to know how much stock you all have left." She snorted. "With all the chores he makes ya do, I'm surprised he doesn't dress you up in a mad outfit." Instead of getting the suggestive joke, the unicorn cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Why would he have me do that? I'm pretty sure he already has cleaning staff." "...Never mind." She waved a hand dismissively before leaning off the counter. "You said you wanted to know the booze level. Alright. It'll take me a couple minutes though." "I can wait." "Alright. HEY!" Her head snapped to the right as she shouted. Another demon glared at her from the other side of the bar. "Cover me for a bit. I need something from the back." Rouge left without another word, disappearing through a door between the two shelves of alcohol as the other bartender kept serving the demons that came. Leaving her surrounding by patrons grumbling for their drinks or passed out drunk on the bar. It was fine though. She was usually left alone if she just kept her eyes down and didn't engage with anyone. This wasn't the case though. As she busied herself by flipping through the small stack of papers in her hands, she barely noticed someone sit n the stool next to her, which really wasn't a big deal. It was a free bar after all. What she did notice however was the sudden ever so light feeling of someone touching her leg- "DON'T TOUCH ME!!" Her body reacted far faster than her mouth did. Whipping around towards the danger, her body on high alert from the unwanted invasion of her personal space. Sitting there was the very same demon she'd made the mistake of seeing. Her shout had seemed to catch the attention of some others around her though. The demon smiled and stared down at her like she was a prime steak. Unintentionally, she swallowed and leaned away. She probably looked more scared than she would've liked. "I-I....I don't like strangers touching m-me. Please g-go away." At this, he chuckled and leaned down eye level. "I remember you-" Her eyes visibly widened at this, and her nose wrinkled up. His breath smelt like an unwashed dumpster. He pointed a finger before saying, "Don't you remember me?..It took me a while to figure out where you were after running into me at that d*mmed club. But seeing you on the arm of that rich boy, it didn't take too long after that." She sat there frozen. "I-I...I'm really s-s-sorry, Sir, if you think that. B-But Im sorry."

He leaned his head back in laughter before hissing and leaning closer to her. "You REALLY don't recognize me, do you? I would've thought an empty headed gal like you would've made it somewhere more innocent for that pretty little head of yours. Guess not. Suits me just fine. Wouldn't you say?...Dorothy?"

She absolutely froze. Ice was traveling through her veins and his smile got wider at her absolutely terrified face. "...no." Was all she was able to force out of her terrified form at the rush of her realization and old name hit her harder than a freight train- A sudden shriek cut from her throat as something had grabbed a large fistful of her poor blonde and white hair and pulled her head back. Her hand immediately flew up to the giant hand and began to claw at it to no avail. He somehow got closer to her face. "Y'know...It's been a long time since I last saw you. Thought you still seen the last of me huh?" Her body coursed with pain as her brain screamed for his unwanted touch to go away. To not let it happen again. "Let go of me! Put me down!" Her body thrashed against the iron grip of her captor which made him raise his hand higher, dragging her from her seat. She screamed and started kicking her legs out. The commotion caught the attention of a whole lot of others, but most seemed more entertained by the fight than concerned for her. By this point she thought her head would pop off with how much it hurt. Her kicking had already sent her papers all over the ground below them. "I wonder how much a second owned horse would go for-" Another hand pressed her cheek. "A pure little thing like you would be worth a lo-AAAAHHH!!" The squirming flesh in her mouth tasted horrible, but something told her to keep her teeth clamped down. The demon cursed and pulled against her. Pushing her head back further.

"What THE F*CK are you doing?!" The female voice and the demanding tone behind it was enough to make the male demon stop and look down. By some miracle, Rouge had returned, probably hearing their screams, and was glaring at him with enough bite to put a cobra to shame. Her eyes flashed to her crying, squirming body held up by him for one split second. "....Okay, you burnt cherry lookin' mothaf*cker. You have one second to put Fuzzy down before I shove a bottle up your a$$." "Mind your own f*cking business!" Her jaw's grip had loosened in the few seconds after Rouge's return, so it was easy to finally slip his hand free to point at the much smaller demon and start yelling at her. Which gave her only a few moments to react. It was obvious this guy was physically stronger and wasn't planning on letting her go anytime soon. She sure as h*ll wasn't going back to being his to boss around. Not after so many years of FINALLY getting away. Not having to look over her shoulder, finally enjoying herself for once in her entire existance. She wouldn't go back to that enclosed prison again. So, in her panicked state, there was one very obvious solution- "LOU!!," she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Drowning out any other sound from her brain, "LOU, HELP!!" The tears dulled her vision somewhat so the next moments were a bit blurry, but no one could miss the obvious chair that came flying out of nowhere and collided with him full force. Sending them both to the floor. The sudden release from her hair was a relief compared to the smack to the floor....but it was better than being held in mid air. Her head tingled with dulled pain still, but there was no time to linger on that when a demonic cry and gagging sounds came next to her. Once again her body reacted before her conscious brain did and she sat up and away....and her eyes widened. The demon was the one making the gagging noises and flailing about like a fish out of water. The clawing at his neck directed her to the green rope like appendage firmly wrapped around it. Small red spikes dotted along it's sides. Before another shot out of no where above her making her whimper and duck as another red spiked green rope wrapped around the struggling demon's hand, and another grabbing his other hand. His red snout which didn't look good from the chair colliding with him, was held firmly shut as the green things wrapped him more than a mummy until he could barely move and was dropped to the floor in front of her. Another screech got her attention as well as some others. Her purple eyes widened at who was screeching. "Lou?" The plant demon was transfixed on the still choking demon. A fixture of rage and something she couldn't quite place on his face. He seemed to also be struggling as Cyber was death gripping his waist to hold back the snarling beast. "Lou, STOP! That's enough!" He didn't stop. "LOU!!" He froze. Everything seemed to freeze for those few agonizing moments...before his body slowly began to relax back and he blinked. "......Lou?" His head snapped to the unicorn looking up at him from the ground with a confused gaze....then around at all the patrons still watching- He quickly straightened up, reaching to fix his bowtie and hat, as if it never happened, before snapping his fingers. The vine around the guy's neck loosened and slunk away leaving him hacking and coughing. She let out a loud squeak as more vines wrapped around her suddenly and hoisted her up and over towards the two. There, she was firmly placed next to him and she gladly went behind the plant demon. He rose a brow at the fightened shaking lady as she death dripped his shirt and those purple eyes stared in absolute fear at the man gasping for breath on the floor before he hissed up at them.

"You little b*tch! Hiding behind that stupid fatcat like he's some shield for your petty little behind! You never could be stronger than me could you!? You were always too weak to do anything!!"

Now, he had made a gave mistake. He was willing to just beat him to a pulp and leave him on the streets, after all no one made a sceen in his casino without consequences and he was already in such a foul, but what had just come out of his mouth seemed to make a difference. A hiccup escaped from behind him and he slowly turned his raised brow to the woman now pressing her face to his back, not daring to look up. "Is he...?"

Her whimper was and what he had just said confirmed on just who this man was. Well, well. This day had just gotten interesting, now didn't it? What a stupid, stupid move for this poor soul to make. Lou slowly turned his gaze back to the struggling form of the cursing man in front of him. Oh he knew EXACTLY what to do with him.

"Cyber. Take this lowlife trash to Midnight, and keep him there until I come up." He turned back to the terrorfied female behind him before reaching an arm behind him and pulling her from behind him to his side. "You are coming with me." Cyber gave him an overly confused look with a," Uh. Sure, Boss." She watched silently as Lou led the horrified gal away from the cussing man and watching crowd and without so much as another word, she blankly looked down to the guy trapped in vines and rose a brow as he uselessly dug his grave by cussing her out. With ease she grabbed the vine cocooned man and threw him over her shoulder. Rolling her eyes as he cussed and screamed his way through the crowed. Leaving Rouge there extremely confused to the events that just played out. ".....Da f*ck just happened?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It took a while for him to calm her down from her very obvious panic attack which left her clinging and crying into him for the longest time as he shushed her and attempted to sooth her over like how Midnight would sooth Disease in one of his moments. Eventually she was able to get a hold of herself and just sat there in his grip hiccupping and wiping at her face for a while. When he thought she was able to be steady by herself he finally let go and she didn't make any protests when he did. Just try to pull herself together from the ordeal. Which left him to sigh and finally to go and sit in his chair for a while- He groaned and reached up to rub at his temples. The soft office chair hugged his slumped over body as he racked his brain. A small thump from the desk made him open his eyes and noticed the small white cup that was placed in front of him. The smell of coffee and weed killer filled the air, and on top of it all was the smiling face of the unicorn. "Thank you." He grabbed it before chugging it down half way. She gave him a bigger smile. "I thought you'd want that after the fight back there." He dryly chuckled. Oh, yes. The fight. He honestly didn't know what to think of it all. One moment he was casually talking up one of his more richer clients, alomost sealed the deal too, when the first screams rang out. At first, he didn't pay much attention to it, if there was a fight then the bouncers would take care of it. That's what they were paid for. What he DID pay attention to was the screaming of his name- "LOU!! LOU, HELP!!" You could say he snapped around faster than a bullet. Completely confused to who could've been shouting for him- Until he saw it. The struggling form of Amalfia struggling against a sickly cherry red demon with his hand gripping her hair. What happened next was something he couldn't quite explain. It was almost like someone flipped a switch and red clouded his vision. Though throwing a chair and making a scene in front of his customers was a blur, he would've never done that otherwise. Something his head couldn't wrap around he supposed. The only logical thing he could come to was that he became overly angry at having his pretty little weapon in danger of being taken from him and his power hungry instincts took over for a little bit. What else could it have been? "Yes. Well-" He sat back up bringing the cup with him. "I don't tolerate strangers placing their hands on the woman I intend on marrying. I would advise against going back there anytime soon." "But, my papers-" "I'll send Cyber to retrieve them." He gave the cup a look before glancing back at her. ".....This coffee tastes a bit old. Why don't you go make a new pot?" "Alright. I get the hint. But, Lou-" A Soft hand reached out to gently squeeze his free hand. "I mean it. Thank you." She slowly removed herself from by the desk and made her way over to the doorway. He sat there frozen for what seemed like forever before slowly clenching his free hand. What the h*ll was wrong with him today?! He gave a frustrated growl before reaching up to remove his hat and run those red digits through his blonde locks of his, whatever. He would feel like himself soon again anyways. But he had other business to attend to that he certainly was not going to overlook or leave as a threat to any of his plans.

***********************************************************************************

He had to wait for her to go to sleep which took a little longer than usually thanks to the mongeral's scare from earlier, but it's nothing some reassurance and warm drink couldn't help. He didn't know why but-...under that calm smile of his anger resurfaced and he gave off a frustrated growl as soon as he left the room and started making his way towards Midnight's lab, which was just a little ways from his dance room. And with his fast pace fueled by the anger in his veins it didn't take long for him to get there. But what first graced his ears was loud muffled mumbles coming from the inside of said lab and his anger started to turn in that direction. The door was pushed open maybe a little more forcefully than he'd like but that didn't matter to him in the moment and he just stood there in the doorway. Rasing a brow at what he was met with. The table Midnight used for....'things' was currently occupied by the struggling red skinned demon, the vines removed for favor of the clamps on the table, Cyber was standing right next to the table looking at him and shrugged. And a little ways from her was a grumpy as ever looking Midnight and a frowning snake flicking his tongue out at the guy...and he just now noticed the mongral had a black eye to match the rope around his mouth.

"..Did I miss something?"

"Eh...The guy got some colorful language and decided to use it on Midnight," she jabbed a thumb behind her at the grumpy looking which. "Disease wasn't too happy let's just say.''

He hummed as he walked into the room, hands behind his back and gave him a calm half lidded look without the smile. Rage burning behind those lidded red eyes of his. The guy glaring at him with absolute hatred behind that gag of his. "...Remove the gag."

Cyber did as she was told without question and with one pull the rope fell from the douchbag's snout. He coughed a few times before glaring up at him. "YOU F*CKING SON OF A B*TCH!! I'LL PLUCK YOUR PETALS AND SNAP YOUR F*CKING STEM YOU TWAT!!"

Lou's face didn't change and instead rolled his eyes. "Simpleton. You all always resort to petty curses and empty threats when you're about to meet your end. Midnight." The witch looked up from..whatever she was currently mixing together and with a sinister smile plastoring itself onto his face, he pointed to the strapped down man. "We found the new volunteer for your projects. Let's hope they prove useful research eh?"

The guy's eyes widened and snapped to the witch who all of a sudden didn't look so grumpy and was staring dead at him with...calculating eyes, before struggling against the table's restraints and glaring back him. "YOU F*CKING B*ST*RD!! LET ME OUT!!"

he hummed and tapped in his in mock thought. "Um...No. You see, you could've scared off one of my plan's assets and I simply cannot have that. So as punishment you get to help Midnight test out some of our other assets for this the small takeover I hope to achieve.~ Isn't that wonderful? Too bad you won't live to see it."

"WHY YOU FU-" The guy's snout was slammed shut by Cyber after Lou nodded to her. With incredible strength, she held his red jaws shut with one hand while looping the rope back around it with the other. Midnight already looked a little better, digging through one of the draws of her desk and pulling out a few potions and things she was eager to use. As for him?...He deserved a good night's sleep after today. He felt oddly satisfied and wanted to leave them to it. Turning on his heel he took a few steps before stopping in the doorway.

"Oh..By the way.'' He looked over his shoulder. Smile and red eyes glowing in the dark. "You missed out on having a remarkible lady by your side. I guess in a way I should really be thanking you. In a sense you pushed her to me and I couldn't be happier.~" Cyber rose a brow again at him happy tone. "But we both know I won't do any of that."

The doors closed behind him and muffled cries cursed him from behind.

All characters except Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

1 note · View note

bleufrost · 4 years

Note

Can I please request a h/c for Keanu/F!reader, where she is pregnant and how they manage that at different stages and their life in the public eye/public events etc. Thanks so much, I love your work! 💙

Keanu Reeves x Reader: Your Road to Her (pregnancy)

masterlist

a/n: I hope you like this lovely! I focused more on the stages because I genuinely feel like Keanu wouldn’t be the type of guy to allow for the public to get too involved in something so important for him. He seems really protective of his privacy and a baby would tenfold that in my mind, i hope thats okay with you!

**i also want to apologize, i thought i had this queued for a week ago and didnt notice it never went up :(

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage (this is fluff tho dont worry!)

From the moment you and Keanu find out the news, he’s ready and willing to do whatever it is you need. At first there aren’t many signs that the baby is even growing in your tummy, you almost get worried at the lack of morning sickness and cravings. Keanu is always there to reassure you that everything is okay though.

He takes you to doctor appointments constantly the first month of your pregnancy. The first few are your idea, wanting to do everything right and keep track of the little one. The next seemingly hundred are definitely his idea. He is way more nervous than you are, but he does his best to not let it show through. You need someone to be a rock, and who better than the father?

If the first month was almost completely normal, the second brings forth hell. There’s a constant feeling of nausea and fatigue radiating through you. Every little thing and smell causes your stomach to churn. Keanu tries at least a thousand different recipes to find something you can keep down, but nothing really works. At the very least, it’s still easy to go out in public and only be put in tabloids for grabbing coffee with your boyfriend. You aren’t quite showing yet and you enjoy not having to hide your baby from prying eyes for the moment.

The third month gets a little easier than the second physically. Mentally is a different story. There was a panic in your mind that you hadn't shared with Keanu the first two months, but in this third you almost feel as if you have to.

Miscarriage typically occurs within the first trimester of pregnancy and you're so close to getting out of that, but you can't do it alone.

"I'm scared I might lose the baby." You say it one day after your emotions catch up to you. Keanu finds you a sobbing mess on the floor of the bedroom when he comes home one day. His heart thuds in his chest when he catches sight of you in pain and he worries instantly that something terrible must have occurred.

"What is it? What happened?" His hands come up to cup your face and he wipes your tears away gently. You shake your head, tears still falling, and he wraps you in his arms. You're safe here. The baby's safe here. Everything is okay as long as you don't have to leave. Eventually of course, you do have to.

The fourth month leads to the second trimester, and the second trimester means new discomforts. Finally able to eat again, you discover that you really don't have any boundaries when it comes to what you'll happily consume. When one moment you couldn't keep anything he made down, now you were becoming a guinea pig for every new baked good and meal that Keanu feels like testing out. One time you even accidentally eat something that may or may not have been for people, but that's not something you want to think about.

The random food only fuels the inevitable heart burn and constipation you get though. A large part of you feels gross for the way your body reacts to the pregnancy, but Keanu reassures you time and time again that he finds you to be nothing but gorgeous.

Now it's not so easy to hide. You both spoke about being in the public eye the first week of your pregnancy. It was a mutual agreement that you really didn't want to be photographed while carrying your baby. There was so little privacy already, your child doesn't deserve to be exposed to the world before they're even able to open their eyes. You stop going out places with Keanu as much, and when you do go out, you're both heavily covered.

Months five and six are miracles. One night, while Keanu is sitting and reading to you, you feel it.

"Oh my god." Your hands fly to your belly and you can't stop staring. Keanu drops the book and stares at you with wide eyes. "What's wrong?" You look to him and laugh in both delight and confusion. Without saying anything you grab his hands and place them down so he can feel. It takes a moment, but then it happens again: the small little kicks of your baby as they remind you that they're here and excited and just can't wait to meet you guys. Both of you cry that night, anticipation and joy radiates between the both of you and you know this is exactly where you're meant to be.

The seventh and eighth months get a little difficult again. News outlets have caught on to the fact that you're carrying and they truly are relentless in their endeavor to get a peek at your baby bump and confirm suspicions.

In a few interviews Keanu is asked to comment on his feelings toward the pregnancy, but he gently declines each time. He hates disappointing people, but you and the baby mean way more to him than any fan or public image

One night an interviewer pushes a little too far. Keanu was near ready to leave the set altogether, angry that someone would so easily ignore his requests for privacy. Luckily, he was able to calm himself down pretty quickly with one thought of you watching at home. Once more, he smiles and declines the questions.

By the time the eighth month is closing and the ninth beginning, Keanu has gotten into a rhythm of rubbing your feet and back almost daily. The extra weight puts a strain on your joints and it sometimes feels like you're lifting heavy dumbbells every time you move. He's very patient and gentle as he always is, but now he watches every move you make with uncertainty. It's about this time that going into labor can be unpredictable and he desperately needs to be ready for anything.

With great hesitation, he takes on a new role at this time. He received the script in the mail a few weeks earlier and was ready to decline immediately, but you wanted him to take it. It would help him get his mind on something else and relax. Besides, hearing him research the role and practice lines soothes you in a way that you could never describe.

You laugh the most at this time. The baby can hear their daddy speaking. His animated voice lights up the room and Keanu can always tell when the baby is responding by the giggles that leave your mouth. His heart beats faster at the thought of his child already being so happy with you guys. It calms any nerves he has about his new role as daddy.

There's bags ready and packed by the door for weeks. Keanu sleeps with a protective hand over the baby and the other wrapped around you tight. He wants to feel if anything happens and sleeping this way comforts him and puts his mind at ease because he knows that if you or the baby stirs, he'll feel it.

It happens one day in the kitchen. You're sitting on a chair by the counter that Keanu had pulled up so you could be with him comfortably while he cooked. The two of you are laughing over a playful argument you were having on how much spice to put into the dish when you feel something wet.

Your laugh stops suddenly and your cheeks blush with intense embarrassment, but you just sigh and move to get up. Wetting yourself is humiliating, but you know the man standing before you would never make you feel bad for something you can't control.

He spots the wet floor and instantly his eyes light up. "Can you help me clean this please? I'm sorry." Keanu bolts over to help you stand. He shakes his head in shock and starts leading you over to the front door. "Babe, I need to go change and clean up the mess, where are we going?"

He laughs in confusion and slight panic, leaving you by the door and grabbing his keys. From the kitchen you hear him call, "Sweetheart, I'm pretty sure that was your water breaking!" You look down in disbelief, surely you would know if that was your water breaking...right?

A jolt of pain knocks any thoughts out of your head and all you can do is breathe until he gets back to help you.

All the way to the hospital, Keanu is guiding you through the periodic pains that plague you. Sometimes it doesn't hurt as badly, but then a new wave will wash over you and leave you gasping for air.

The actual hospital arrival is a blur. One moment you see him rushing to check in, the next you can feel yourself being wheeled down a hall. You think you pass out for a moment, but can't be sure. All you know is that you're now in a room being told to breathe deeply. The contractions are not yet close enough together to initiate anything, so you just have to stay as calm as possible.

There isn't a second in your confusion that he isn't there by your side. You can tell he's scared by the way his eyebrows knit together and his hands tremble, yet his smile still lights up the room and his voice brings you down from the discomfort. He reads to you until you feel as though the waves are no longer coming one at a time. They all feel like they're happening at once and he instantly calls for a doctor.

Giving birth is agonizing. The exertion compares to nothing you've ever felt before and you can feel an endless flow of tears stream down your cheeks as you continue to get told to breathe, push, relax, push again, breathe…

Your eyes lock with his, hand reaching out for the strong grip you always seek for support and he wraps it around yours with no hesitation. Unlike most stories you'd heard, Keanu isn't panicking or on the verge of passing out. He's always been highly attuned to both life and death, and as much as he hates seeing you in pain, he knows that this is a fleeting moment that will lead to the most beautiful child both of you have ever seen. Your pain destroys him, but your love and willingness to endure it builds him back up even stronger than he was before. Just one look into his beautiful, deep eyes gives you strength to keep going, so you do.

As soon as your screams die down, a new one begins. It is by far the most lovely noise that has ever graced your ears, and although you knew it would keep you both up for months, you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. The nurses clean the baby off just a bit, the real bath could wait. Right now you both need to hold the little one just as much as you need to breathe.

You are given her first. She is gently placed into your arms and your lip trembles as you can't stop the onslaught of tears that overflow your eyes. She is stunning. Nothing in life could have ever prepared you for just how gorgeous this tiny little baby would be. Her eyes weren't open, but you knew that one look into them would make you gladly give up the world for her.

In that moment, Keanu feels as though his lungs give out. Nothing matters outside of this hospital room right now and he feels no need to be anywhere else but here. His arm remains where it has been the whole time, protectively holding you. The other, though, is free. He has a strong urge to protect the little girl. His shaky hand comes over to brush the soft hair on her head. As soon as he feels her delicate little head under his fingertips, his heart swells and he lets the tears fall down.

The little bundle of joy was safe and warm and oh so loved. When the nurses came in, they found the three of you asleep. Keanu held you protectively in his arms, a hand still gently petting the baby's head. Your arms were holding your little angel as your head leaned against his strong chest, finally getting some rest after your long journey to get to the little girl that now felt like home.

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fluff

146 notes · View notes

sugarless--girl · 3 years

Text

Dinner and Breakfast

Kakashi's a vampire, Iruka's his blood bank. It's simple as that. Or it should've been just that.

Written for Umino Hours Discord Exchange hosted by @magnustesla. I scrambled to write everything super fast so I hope it all makes sense. Ngl, I didn't know where the hell I was going with this until I was more than halfway done. Hopefully that doesn't show LOL

The initial idea was that Iruka had a sanctuary that helped a lot of different supernatural beings. It would be in a modern setting but Iruka would act as a intermediary of sorts for the mythical world and normal world. Naruto would be a kitsune, Kotetsu and Izumo would be tengu, Asuma a fire elemental, etc. Anko and Genma made in here briefly but I didn't get much of a chance to expand on them. I like what this idea turned out to be but maybe someday I'll expand it a bit further. Who knows?

Anyway, comments are most welcome! Hope you enjoy this @seekingsquake!

Read on Ao3

Iruka was brought back to wakefulness as he felt a body enter the covers on his bed. He was entirely cognizant as he felt the dip near him but he was almost jolted awake as an ice cold nose pressed against his neck.

“Kakashi!” He hissed as he pushed himself up. Iruka’s eyes could make out the silver hair that stood out in the dark.

“Ah, did I wake you up? Sorry about that.” Kakashi said, sounding far too amused to actually mean his apology.

Iruka just glared, trying to blink the sleepiness out of his eyes. He glanced at his bedside and found that the clock read a little past 5AM. Dammit, Kakashi always came too early. “I told you to go wait in your room, last time.” Iruka said, unbuttoning the collar of his pajamas,

“Mah sensei, I couldn’t wait to see you again.” His voice was too casual but there was deliberateness to it—as if he was barely holding back. Iruka, now that he was more awake, was able to see that Kakashi’s eyes had a gleam of predatory hunger to them. He always waited until the last moment, didn’t he?

“Don’t flatter me.” Iruka said, pushing aside his long brown hair to bare his neck. “Just hurry up. And please try to not bite so obviously. The kids kept asking questions, last time.”

“I’ll try to be more careful.” He said with a helpless shrug and moved to pull Iruka close. The younger man came into his arms easily, into a position made more for lovers than two in a mutually beneficial relationship. As always, Kakashi’s body was cold. He looked uncomfortable for a split-second before his blood-lust took over and sunk his teeth into Iruka’s neck.

It hurt as per usual—this was nothing new. But Iruka was getting better at concealing his reactions. Kakashi always seemed uncomfortable with their arrangement no matter how much Iruka assured him, it was fine. The silver-haired man didn’t show it all that much, but it seemed as though his indifferent attitude that was clearly a put-upon mask, would fall away at Iruka’s discomfort. It was odd having the other vampire hover over him, truthfully. Really, Iruka didn’t mind. Kakashi was careful with the amount he drank. He never left Iruka exhausted in the same way others did in the past.

Kakashi pulled back after a few moments, his eyes dark. He stared at the brunette and Iruka held back a shiver. There was a want in them that only existed for a split second before it disappeared. Iruka blinked, feeling sleepy once more as exhaustion overtook him. He went to find some wrappings for the puncture wounds, not risking bleeding over his covers. Why did Kakashi always insist on coming right when he was asleep?

“So,” The vampire said, watching Iruka fix himself and re-button his shirt. “Breakfast in bed?”

“That’s your end of the deal, isn’t it?” Iruka said, a sly smile on his lips. Kakashi shot back his own sheepish smile—as per usual, he was always strangely bashful after his feeding. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it was such an intimate position.

“Yeah, I’ll go make it. Uh, thanks.” And with that, the vampire pulled up his mask and left the room. Iruka dropped back to his pillow and closed his eyes. He could get an hour or two of rest before he had to properly get up.

***

Sometimes Iruka dreamed of Mizuki. He woke up with a start those nights, often shaking and covered in sweat. He was slowly forgetting the color of his eyes but it still stood out to him every now and then. Was forgetting really the answer?

Kakashi had habit of sleeping in Iruka’s bed during the day. The brunette didn’t mind—he knew that the other man couldn’t go out anyway due to the sunlight. Really, it was a bit adorable but Iruka never said his thoughts aloud. He wasn’t sure why he kept such things to himself.

***

Iruka woke up to the smell of pancakes. Kakashi kept stopping by to cook for him even when the other man didn’t get any blood for it. It was a relatively new development that Iruka couldn’t help but feel strangely guilty over.

He also couldn’t help but wonder what Kakashi was thinking. Was he planning for something? Buttering him up for a favor?

When Iruka brought it up at the dining table, the vampire just laughed and said, “can’t I just do something nice for my favorite human?”

***

Sometimes Iruka waited outside for Kakashi. He’d do this most often when the sky was it’s clearest. It was never particularly clear as the light pollution from the city lights obscured the stars—nothing like home. But he wasn’t looking for the stars as much as the absence of light.

The absence of light in the form of a bat. It wasn’t easy to spot and oftentimes, Iruka didn’t see anything. However, it seemed as though Kakashi came like clockwork these days. Long gone was the ‘always late’ Kakashi Hatake. Or at least, he was on time when he was visiting Iruka. Now, wasn’t that something?

***

One time Iruka woke up from a dream about Mizuki and Kakashi was beside him. He handed the shaking brunette a glass of water. Soon the words came spilling out as easily as the few stray tears did. Kakashi didn’t say anything but instead listened. His smooth face never strayed from Iruka as his hands rubbed comforting circles on the other’s back.

***

“So…are you guys sleeping together or what?” Iruka choked on his water. Anko kept smiling.

“Platonically, yes. Romantically no.” Iruka knew that dodging the topic would be worse. Anko was relentless.

“What about carnally?”

Anko was always a bit too interested in Iruka’s sex life. She claimed that it was a because she was a succubus but Iruka knew better—it was because she was a relentless gossip hound. Truly a terrible habit.

“He’s just seeking me out for warmth.” That was the shittiest lie that Iruka came up with. And he was a pretty good liar (despite popular belief.) He scowled, knowing that Anko wasn’t buying it.

She really wasn’t. “I just wanna know what’s been going on between you two!” Her voice was bordering on whiny. It was cute but Iruka wasn’t about to tell here how endearing he found her.

Instead he just rolled his eyes and acquiesced a bit of information to satisfy her. “Honestly, I have no clue what’s going on between us. It’s not like we’ve even kissed or anything. I just give him my blood and he cooks me breakfast.”

Anko hummed. Iruka was afraid she was going to push it. “You know, I heard that sex with a vampire while they suck your blood feels really good.”

“I’ll….keep that in mind….” Even though he was used to the raunchy topics Anko brought up, Iruka couldn’t help the heat that crept up his ears. “Thank you for that.”

“Your welcome! And don’t forget to wrap it before you tap it!”

***

Sometimes Iruka wondered what Kakashi and him would look like. He considered and let his considering be shown through his actions. The vampire was left flustered by his actions.

But then Mizuki stopped by. And once again, Iruka was reminded of the particular shade of his green eyes.

***

The next time Kakashi came, Iruka was grading tests that his students had done. Grading an elementary school student’s journal was always a fun experience seeing as they had ridiculous stories to tell. They obviously didn’t see it as anything but normal but the way the student fixated on certain topics was just too adorable and entertaining.

Kakashi crept in through the window and froze as Iruka fixed him with a glare. Even though it had been a month since he last saw him, Iruka still was able to pick up where they left off. (Kakashi had to leave for some important business—or at least, that’s how phrased it said it. Iruka simply hugged him and left him at that. The vampire looked strangely let down.)

“I told you to knock on my door!”

“Well you see, your next door neighbors dog knows I’m a vampire and I don’t want that dog to relay that information to his owner so—”

“Alright, stop.” Iruka said, pinching his nose. “Take off your shoes already—I don’t want you tracking dirt in my house.”

“Really, sensei? You think I’d do such a thing?” Kakashi asked, eyes warm. It was obvious that he was smiling, even with his mask on. “You have no faith in me!”

It was true that Kakashi’s shoes were relatively clean. But they were relative to Naruto’s shoes, who was the only other person who insisted on climbing through the windows. “You’re such a bad influence. Soon, everyone that comes through my door, is gonna assume that my window is fair game.”

“Mah, mah, I’ll try to not come when anyone’s here.” Kakashi said with chuckle. “I never do, anyway.”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “Guess again. Genma’s here.”

The warmth from Kakashi’s eyes dropped and Iruka was left blinking in surprise. “Genma?”

“I needed him to look over a few wards. They were fine until—” Iruka pursed his lips. He forgot Kakashi didn’t know this story.

“Until?” He appeared to pick up that something had gone wrong. “What happened, Iruka?”

It was always odd to hear Kakashi call him by his name. Especially since he so frequently preferred to use Iruka’s title, ‘Sensei.’

“Mizuki stopped by and well, Naruto and Anko were around so not much came of it.” He didn’t get too hurt this time at least. It was embarrassing to be protected by Naruto—someone Iruka vowed to protect himself—but at least the situation didn’t get out of control. Anko diffused the situation before anything worse happened. “I just needed someone to look over my wards a bit more thoroughly. He’s in the bedroom.”

Kakashi stood still. Iruka couldn’t read him.

“Where is he now?”

“Asuma took care of it.” His shrug was forcibly casual. Iruka was mostly over the incident but still. “Anko and Asuma both managed to handle it pretty well.”

He was thankful for that. He didn’t want Naruto to be the one to protect him—not when it should’ve been the other way around.

Kakashi crossed the room in a few strides and tilted Iruka’s chin as if to see the truth for himself. But this time he was fine. Or fine as he could be with his shitty ex trying to break into his house. “I’m fine, Kakashi. Really.”

The silver-haired man didn’t seem entirely willing to accept it but he nodded all the same. “Alright, but just let me know if you need anything.” The sincerity coming from him was jarring.

Iruka couldn’t help but tease him a little. “What, not about to ask for anything in return? I thought you came here for blood?” It was a bit of a cruel joke—he knew that Kakashi didn’t just want that. But Iruka still said it anyway, the tease a bit more of test now.

“I don’t—” Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. “Mah sensei, your opinion of me is too low.”

The implicit ‘I care about you’ hung in the air and Iruka couldn’t quite….grasp it. Not yet. It was too soon. The pain from seeing Mizuki again was still hovering in the back of his mind as Iruka worked. He had mostly gotten it to settle down with the tedium of work but that didn’t mean he was ready for any deeper conversations. Not just yet.

“Either way, the situation’s been dealt with. Do you want to check the wards, yourself?”

“What, don’t trust my work?” Genma, a mage working under the witch Tsunade, came striding out of the only other room in his apartment. “What are you telling Kakashi, Iruka? Seriously, we had our favorite teach protected this time around.”

Iruka bristled at the idea that he even needed to be protected but Kakashi relaxed a bit more. “That’s good to here—I know this Sensei is the type to never say if he really does need help.”

“I just said you could check the wards. Isn’t that accepting help?” Iruka pointed out.

“That’s different.” Genma scoffed.

Iruka was ready to go at the mage before Kakashi interrupted with, “is Naruto alright?”

Iruka bit back a smile.

“He was fine as ever.” Genma said, adjusting his bandanna, “He wanted to fight Mizuki himself but Asuma held him back.”

“Good.” Kakashi nodded and Genma made his way out of the house—presumably to check the magical wards there.

It was the two of them once more. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around.” Kakashi said, quietly.

“It’s not something either of us could’ve predicted.” Iruka said with a shake of his head. He couldn’t lie—Kakashi brought him a sense of security that no one else brought—but it wasn’t all that bad this time. Truly.

“Still—”

“Seriously, Kakashi. It’s not a big deal. Now, are you too tired to make dinner or should I order take-out?”

“Is Genma eating with us?” Kakashi asked, making his way to the small, but neatly kept kitchenette.

“I’ll ask.” Iruka said making his way to his door. He paused and looked at Kakashi. “It’s nice to have you back again.”

Kakashi’s eyes curved into a smile. I feel safer with you here. The unspoken words hung in the air. It didn’t need to be said.

#naruto #iruka umino #kakashi hatake #kakashi x iruka #kakairu #umino hours exchange #umino hours discord #90 minutes to gift #I'm so tired I hope this turned out okay #vampire Kakashi seems pretty popular huh....

14 notes · View notes

nosybookworm · 3 years

Text

Ninja Academy vs Hero School Rant

Naruto was my jam back in the day. I stayed up late to watch the new episodes, bought the dvd box sets and manga volumes, collected toys and cards just to stare at adoringly, even pretended to be sick so that I could stay home and watch a Naruto marathon. Point is, I LOVED Naruto.

I was invested in the characters. My heart ached for every single character that gave me a backstory. I ugly cried on more than ten occasions.

The action and moral dilemmas sucked me in and spit me out, made me the person I am today thinking critically about the stuff I love because wow that universe is in no way safe or sane for the people living in it lol.

The villains absolutely TERRIFIED me DESPITE STILL WANTING TO SEE MORE OF THEM, Orochimaru alone had me sleeping with the lights on and ripping the arms off his action figure just to be safe.

When I started watching My Hero Academia those old happy feelings started slapping me in the face drawing me in. MHA hits a lot of the same points that Naruto had and I didn’t really notice until the end of season 3 because those points weren’t as in-your-face or emotionally impactful as it was in Naruto I guess. Not to say it didn’t have an impact! Just that it rolled off me a lot easier which might just be a me problem.

I Mean:

The main character getting bullied/excluded because of something he can’t control.

Underdog character then meeting or making an emotional connection with a mentor figure truly feeling “acceptance” for maybe the first time and taking that all important first step toward their life long dream.

A teacher willing to sacrifice himself to protect the students.

A school training teens to protect/serve.

Rivalry that may or may not be actual friendship.

Students fighting against each other to “rank up” by showing how capable they are to their superiors.

Enemies invading to terrorize the kids and escaping to terrorize another day.

Traumatic family backstories that child will now attempt to seek justice through own power.

Previous underdog character actually having a secret power that no one knows about but a select few and that he has to train to learn how to use, but it makes him a powerhouse that is always surprising the enemy and inspiring his fellows.

Sure all that can be tied to any story when generalized like this, but the way MHA presents them is pretty similar to Naruto.

(Okay, ALL OF THIS is going to be my personal opinion. Things I want to say to get out of my system so that I can move on. It’s long too. So, now that you’ve been warned continue on.)

The more I got into it the stranger it felt because despite hitting those same points I loved they hit in a different way that....well... made me a little uncomfortable to sit through.

Like Aizawa

Very clearly the Kakashi in MHA. He’s sly hardly ever telling his students the truth but has incredibly high expectations of them, has been known to expel students left and right until his most recent batch of kids, is ready and willing to throw himself in harms way for them, and surprisingly competent despite his exhausted persona/personality. However the way these two teachers act get two very different results from me. Naruto got a chance to introduce Kakashi in a way that endeared him to me, the bell test was more than just showcasing the kids current abilities it was introducing Kakashi (the Jounin that is a kind of jack of all trades, the known perv that will publicly read porn, the guy that will happily mess with a bunch of kids to “teach them a lesson” and because its funny, the guy that requires the students under his care to care about each other because caring for his team matters to him more than any mission, that guy). MHA gave the quirk test. Aizawa mostly in the background taking notes and jotting down scores after his speech about expelling whoever comes last. We didn’t get to hear Aizawa’s thoughts until the very end when Izuku surprised him.

I didn’t really feel any connection toward Aizawa until I stumbled across fanfics that wrote him more involved with the students and I think that’s the problem. Aizawa is dedicated to his student’s education, he believes they will all be amazing heroes one day, but he hardly ever interacts with them. He can be seen watching their training from afar, sleeping in a corner as another teacher takes over for a bit, protecting them from danger or fighting along side them, and proudly declaring that Bakugo would never turn villain but all of that means very little emotionally when I can’t see him making connections with these students to make this standoffish confidence understandable. He comes off as one of those super smart teachers that have undecipherable lessons because he has no idea how to connect with his students enough to explain in way they understand. Similarly, he like jots down that he’s taking note of Bakugo and might need to step in before he goes down the wrong path but then does nothing and confidently tells the press Bakugo would never be a villain.

Kakashi was pretty standoffish too, no denying that, and the little episodes when the kids conspire to try to see him without his mask are the kind of outside interactions that would be weird for a modern teacher-student relationship like in MHA, so I get why Aizawa doesn’t really have that with any of the kids. However, Kakashi saw the path Sasuke was going down and spent time with him and confronted him about it (it did nothing to stop him but he tried). He took time to find a teacher for Naruto. He was present and awake for just about every milestone in there education with him. He told them when he was proud of them not other people. He involved himself in some of their high jinks to measure their growth and as such was able to have confidence in them when they went off on their own.

The Villains

And My Hero Academia villains, namely All For One.

I felt nothing when he showed up. I was all caught up in All Might and his passing of the torch. The guy without eyes didn’t feel threatening, didn’t feel like the big bad he was suppose to be. The League of Villains really didn’t feel like “serious enemies” either cause I actually really enjoyed them when they were on screen for their dynamics with each other. Similar to how I liked the Akatsuki in their more light-hearted scenes when they where super strong idiots banded together by sheer force of will and explosive personalities that refuse to leave a job half finished. With the League I would be just as entertained (probably more so) if they were in a slice of life anime just being terrible people together.

I get the feeling All For One was supposed to be MHA’s Orochimaru. (And I say this despite knowing Orochimaru’s introduction is probably a lot closer to Stain what with the confrontation and all, but his whole “the world is corrupt, I will cut out the wrong and remake it into the pure world it should have always been” aligned more with Pain especially with his quick turnabout saving Izuku.)

Orochimaru always felt in control even when he was in hiding or on the run, he felt like he had more up his sleeve which is the only thing I got from All For One when he was imprisoned. Both Orochimaru and All For One showed up out of nowhere, very obviously in a class of their own that the teenage main characters had no hope of beating, and a mysterious backstory that clearly put all the adults in the know on edge. But I just don’t see All For One as a villain. Nothing about him screamed “Run for your lives this man will smile as he tears you apart!” like Orochimaru. Nothing about All For One’s secret Mad Scientist lab gave me creepy vibes that left me on the edge of my seat clutching at the nearest pillow the way the Sound Village that practically worshiped Orochimaru and the many base of operations he had did.

Terrible Parents

The Todoroki family.

...

Look. The world of Naruto has terrible parenting, but they also live in a dictator/military run nation where kids can be a front-line defense or key players in a war zone so it’s hard to measure how to view these people. Cause a father that beats his kid and yells at him to get stronger has genuine reasons to rightfully freak out when children as young as 8 get sent to ninja academy. Families that have a rare genetic trait like the Hyuga or Uchiha have every right to be tough and stern if they feel that will protect their kids when they know putting them out into the world makes them an easier target for enemies that would rip out their eyes.

I can judge their actions based on their consequences. Like the Uchiha clan planning a revolt forcing their eldest to massacre them to keep the peace and their youngest to live with a crazy amount of trauma. Like the Hyuga clan branding their branch members to protect family eyes, but forcing them into being lesser than the main branch and all the trauma that forced on Neji’s poor head. The stupid level of expectation set on Hinata’s young shoulders that she couldn’t meet in the way her clan wanted that made her self-confidence practically non existent. The Hokage leaving Naruto mostly alone for his entire childhood in a village that openly hated him. The Kazekage trying to have his lonely three-year-old assassinated multiple times once by his beloved uncle - the only person that was kind and loved him - that scarred him so entirely that he carved “love” into his forehead and rampaged around the village and did casual murder intentionally for years before meeting Naruto.

All that... I can get behind as abuse. I want those sad kids to be happy. They deserved better and I will happily lose myself in a fix-it fic where they get that.

MHA gives me similar scenarios but without the clear-cut consequences that shows when parenting for that world is abuse.

Endeavor is not a good husband. He is emotionally abusive to his wife to the point she has a mental break and attacks a child.

However, in a world of heroes, in a world where high school students are trained to protect and serve and that self sacrifice is a noble heroic trait. How do I compare such a society to my own? They put children in harms way with hero internships yet don’t allow them to defend themselves if they don’t have a hero license, that would be like getting a learners permit but not being allowed to practice driving.

All this to say I have a hard time telling when bad parenting falls into abuse when it comes to MHA. Endeavor is not a good parent, he is an abusive husband, but is he an abusive parent? As a hero training up the next generation of heroes can it be argued that he is pretty okay even if his methods are a little harsh? None of his children fear him from what I’ve seen. Shouto happily tells him his plans to never use his fire and all the reasons why without fearing he might be punished for it. The other kids seem to be pretty okay going on with their lives. Toya being the exception but again I don’t know what happened to him and he’s a follower of Stain so did he have a falling out with heroes or did his father push too hard?

Nighteye & Tsunade

Okay so this is where I get super rant-y. I have feelings on Nighteye and none of them good.

Nighteye being the estranged comrade of All Might the underdog’s teacher, Tsunade being the estranged comrade of Jiraiya Naruto’s teacher.

Tsunade has been hurt deeply. She ran because she felt that was the only way to save herself from more pain. Here comes Jiraiya with his new little tag along demanding she come back home, she gets appropriately angry and tries everything she can to get them to leave her alone. Naruto being the special little underdog that he is immediately gets under her skin reminding her of all the loved ones she lost bringing back all of that old pain back, so she gets even. She beats him down and challenges him to an impossible challenge to show him how small he really is and get out of her own responsibilities. But he wins. He wins, and shows Tsunade how closed off she’s become forcing her to face reality head on and face her fears at last. He changes her whole world view through action.

Nighteye has been hurt deeply. He sees the future for every person he touches and as such sees futures in which people he loves get hurt and sometimes die. He believes there is nothing he or anyone can do to change these visions. All Might is his hero, His friend and mentor, his comrade. His friend gets hurt in a way he can never fully recover from and he sees a vision where his friend dies on the battle field. He then tells All Might who refuses to retire and leaves without a backward glance. They don’t speak until years later when Nighteye picks out a successor for One For All, but Toshi chooses Izuku and never meets Nighteye’s pick.

Izuku, needing an internship not Gran Torino, goes to Sir Nighteye All Might’s old side kick. He gets tested, told he’s not worthy of One For All, and has to work under this man as he tries to get Izuku to see how Mirio is more worthy of All Might’s quirk. Facing off against Overhaul when they are at their most desperate Nighteye uses his quirk to see what will happen and sees the worst possible scenario. They lose. Then Izuku flies in sweeps Eri into his arms and fights Overhaul saving the day. Izuku proved, unknowingly, that the future Nighteye sees is not set in stone with his actions and on his death bed Nighteye acknowledges that without acknowledging it.

Nighteye’s treatment toward Izuku makes me uncomfortable. This is a man in a position of power over this student telling him that he is not enough, will never be enough, and that he is a disappointment.

His glorifying of All Might makes me uncomfortable. He was All Might’s partner and yet he practically had a shrine of the man in his office. He made him more than just a man, built him up as The Symbol of Peace and kept him there (as many of Toshi’s friends seem to do except for Nedzu and Naomasa) despite getting close enough trusted enough to learn about One For All. And despite all that “love” and “devotion” he left Toshinori alone to deal with his new normal of a permanently damaged system alone for years then takes out all that frustration and grief out on his friends chosen successor.

Then when all is said and done and he’s dying and he’s confronted by Toshinori and Izuku what happens? Does he apologize? Explain his actions? Get closure in his final moments?

No. Well, Toshinori got some measure of closure. Izuku got a few words that essentially boiled down to “Good job, your better than I thought.” without talking about the newfound hope Izuku’s action gave him that his visions are only possibilities not absolute. All of his attention then goes to his choice for One For All, Mirio.

Understandably.

He’s dying and Mirio was always his main priority as a mentor, and you know who Mirio looks like? All Might. He’s blonde, buff, blue-eyed, cheerfully friendly, and with a happy-go-lucky persona about him. Sir Nighteye taught him to smile. Chose him to be the new wielder of One For All and without telling him anything planned to introduce him to Toshinori to make his choice reality. Doesn’t that sound... I don’t know... uncomfortably close to manipulation? Grooming? To taking this child under his wing and molding him to be pretty close to a new version of All Might?

I don’t know. Maybe if Sir Nighteye had lived this uncomfortable impression I have of him would be lessened as he began to internalize the full extent of possibilities for the future that he never thought possible before and acted more hopeful, more willing to take gambles because his visions were no longer a guarantee of what will happen.

#sorry for the rant #Naruto #mha #spoilers?

2 notes · View notes