#but I fear I’d become way too annoyed/annoying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ilsanslut · 2 years ago

Note

you said male reader and I appear

boo

anyway, I’d love for your fave blue lock boys getting spanked by male reader

and I disappear now

꒷♡꒷ HIT ME, BABY!

♰ featuring: kaiser michael. shidou ryusei. [blue lock + separate]

♰ note: when i saw this pop up in my ask box i JUMPED into my desk chair with the most devious laugh ever LIKEE the joker could never. anyway, here are my baby boys getting their asses handed to them, as well as my first-ever male!reader work. (honestly i might make this into a lil series because i literally love too many blue lock characters-) enjoy!

sypnosis: naughty boys deserve to get spankings. content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. masc/male-bodied!reader. dominant/top!reader. bratty bottoms. minor dub-con? (kaiser). forced masturabation (kaiser). spanking. one cock-stepping moment (shidou). masochism (shidou). ryusei has daddy issues. one-time usage of the word ‘daddy’ (shidou). hair-pulling. cursing. degradation. punishments w/ no actual penetration. ꒷꒦

MICHAEL KAISER.

There were numerous things that irritated you about your teammate Kaiser: his superiority complex, the way he talked down to others who he saw as inferior, his inhuman skill that rivaled some of our generation's greatest, and his ridiculously good looks. But you had no idea how you of all people had become his number one target on his shitlist. It began cordially enough—or as cordial as you could be when dealing with Kaiser—but things quickly devolved into vile territory. He would annoy you to no end, from bumping into you in the hallway to stealing your towels as you were getting out of the shower, to making patronizing comments about you during practice, and even enabling his lapdog Ness to steal the ball from you during what should have been obvious goals at your games.

He was always meticulous about his appearance, so you knew he was taking extra time in the shower to get rid of the hard work he had done today to make your life as miserable as possible. You headed for the showers, which were nearly empty, but for one in the middle, front and center, fit for an emperor, with the curtain closed and the water running. You heard the faintest tune hummed in German from behind the curtain, and, without warning, you fisted the curtain in your hand and snatched it open. Panic overcame Kaiser's handsome face as he saw you, his eyes widening in response to being leered at in his most vulnerable state. There was a fleeting look of fear in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a smug glare and a pinch of his eyebrows.

“R-Really, Y/N?” Even with the sneer in his tone, you could tell it was merely a ploy to cover up the tremble in his voice. “I didn’t take you for the perverted type who—”

You did not even wait for him to finish before stepping into the shower yourself, unconcerned about getting soaked while still fully clothed, and snatching the curtain closed behind you. Seeing the look of a silent fury twisting your features, Kaiser’s expression dropped. However, before he could attempt to make a break to safety, you were shoving him against the ceramic walls cheek-first while your body and sheer mass pinned him there from behind. He grunted, struggling against your overwhelming strength as your forearm pinned itself across his shoulder blades, firmly pinning him there.

“W-What are you doing?! Get off of m—”

You silenced him with a sharp swat to his, surprisingly, bubbly ass, the sound of the hit echoing off the walls around you two, and effectively quarreling whatever rebuttal he was about to spew your way.

“I’ve had enough of your shit, Kaiser.” You snarled, emphasizing your words with two well-placed smacks on both of his ass cheeks, making him yelp with each one. You held him taut, fisting the back of his dyed hair and pulling his head back until his ear was right next to your lips. Even then, you could see the faintest trace of horror and what looked like yearning in his wide, blue eyes. For what? You didn’t know, nor did you care, right now.

“You berate me on the field—”

SMACK.

“Thrownin’ off my obvious fuckin’ goals—”

SMACK.

“And stick your dumb little lapmutt onto me, just because you know you can’t devour me on your own—!”

SMACK. SMACK

Kaiser’s teeth were gritted as he tried to hold back his sharp grunts and ill-timed moans, but no sound could be hidden from your ears within the confines of the echoing chamber. You gave him the briefest moments of reprieve, groping his abused cheeks in your large palm as your hand shook with poorly contained malice. Your hand that was in his hair jerked his head back more, pulling him slightly off of the wall so that you could peer over his shoulder, only to confirm your suspicions that yes, Kaiser was hard, and yes he was getting off to this.

“Dirty bitch,” You snarled in his ear amidst your amused chuckle. “Are you really getting off to this? Getting your pretty lil’ cock hard over being spanked like a disobedient slut you are in the showers, huh?”

“O-Oh, fuck you, Y/N. I am not—AH~!”

Kaiser let out a high-pitched, sultry squeal as you gave him another well-earned smack on his ass, feeling the pleasure shoot through his veins and making his cock jump. His face was flushing red, just like his posterior, and it was not from the heat from the shower.

“Yeah?” You breathed haughtily in his ear. “Go on then, jerk your cock for me, baby. I know a desperate thing like you is just aching to cum all over these walls, aren’t you?”

His fists balled at his sides as his teeth gritted against one another, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of letting you have your way. You merely clicked your tongue at his behavior, releasing his grip on his hair to instead wrap your large palm around his throbbing shaft and pump him yourself instead.

Grasping at your shorts with one fist to maintain balance, he choked on his own groans, his knees weakening as his body shook against your powerful one. He twisted around in your grip, trying to struggle free from your sneaky fingers, but it was no use.

“Y-Y/N, you f-fucking, ngh! S-Stop that!” He spat half-heartedly, despite the fact that his hips were practically fucking themselves into your deft digits.

You didn’t respond to him verbally, instead giving him another smack on the ass, just to witness his hips jolt and his cock twitch in your palm, drawing a sadistic cackle from your lips.

“What kind of whore gets off on being spanked, huh? You some kind of masochist of somethin’, Micha’?”

He didn’t reply—he couldn’t reply. His vision blurred and his mind went numb from the pleasure of having his rival fist his cock and dominate him completely when he was at his most vulnerable. He looked so pretty like this, with his hues rolled behind his half-lidded lids, his jaw dropped and gaping to release a steady string of moans, a line of drool pooling from his lips while his cheeks flushed a deep red from the humiliation of it all—he was perfect.

His groans grew shrill, and, before you knew it, he was utilizing your body as a rock to stay upright while his legs trembled under him. In an instant, hot, thick ropes of sticky cum spewed from his throbbing shaft and over himself and the shower walls. His body convulsed in your hand as a barrage of obscenities and things you could not make out in German fell from his lips. You laughed at him, cackled at his humiliation, the exact same way he would do to you when he would knock you down.

You didn’t stop there. You continued to pump his cock until he was well into overstimulation and fighting to escape your grasp. He eventually triumphed over you with a forceful shove, sending you reeling a few paces behind him as his weakness caused him to fall to the ground. There on his knees, he gazed up at you, his lips parted and panting, his semi-hard cock twitching languidly against his thigh, his pupils blown wide. He was a beautiful wreck, and it was all your fault.

“Yeah, nah.” You huffed, observing how his unfocused eyes suddenly widened and his lips drew in a sharp gasp as he watched you reach into your shorts with a near-feral grin on your face.

“I’m not finished with you, yet.”

RYUSEI SHIDOU

You know what happens when you feed a gremlin after midnight? That was Ryusei, except every day and 24/7. So much so that he was frequently a well-deserved victim of Blue Lock’s “Anti-Riot” electric shock. Today was one of those instances where, once again, Ryusei and Rin couldn’t see eye-to-eye on the field, leading to the two getting into a physical altercation initiated by the former. This time, they both were electrocuted, but instead of having additional staff handle Ryusei, you effortlessly scooped the male up and over your shoulder, walking off of the practice field with him. No one else on PXG dared to question it, not even Julian Loki, who just watched on with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.

You made your way to the locker room, kicking the door open with your foot before setting Ryusei’s semi-conscious and lethargic form down on one of the benches against a set of lockers. Picking up a stray water bottle, you aimed the nozzle at your boyfriend before squeezing mercilessly, allowing a continuous spray of water to pelt against the blonde’s face. He gasped and spluttered as he awoke with a start, using his coughs to try and resist your water assault.

“Y/N?! W-What the hell is your problem? Cut that shit out!” He all but snarled at you, spitting some of the water out of his mouth.

Releasing your grip on the bottle, you stared at him impassively, thoroughly unamused by both his behavior and his language. Using the collar of his shirt to wipe his face, Ryusei took a moment to get his bearings and realized that the two of you were in the locker room and not on the field.

“. . . What happe—”

“You know exactly what the fuck happened, Ryusei.” Your sharp tone cut him off, your eyes narrowing on his now-widened fuschia ones. He looked a bit taken aback by your tone, but as he took in your demeanor and the way you were sitting with your elbows on your knees while glowering at him through your lashes, he understood that you were pissed at him.

“We talked about this, Ryu. It doesn’t matter how pissed off you get, you can’t just start swinging on your teammates whenever they annoy you!” You berated him, standing up now as you threaded your hands through your hair in exasperation.

All the while, your boyfriend sat there, scratching at his ear with his pinky and blowing off the excess nonchalantly as though you were boring him.

“Jeez, this is why you brought me here? You’re starting to sound like my old man.”

You paused, hands dropping by your sides as you felt a vein pulsating just above your eyebrow.

Is he serious right now?

Ryusei stood up abruptly, thrusting his hands into his pockets and assuming his usual slouching stance. His lips were pulled into a frown, and his expression was uninterested, as if he couldn’t care less about what you were saying right now.

Taking a step closer to you, he would say, “Y’know, lecturing me isn’t going to do either of us any good, babe. I’m going to continue to do my own thing, and you’re going to continue doing yours. There is no need to waste any of our breaths.” A sly, joker-like grin formed on his face, a hand leaving his pocket to rise to your face, rudely flicking a strand of hair above your eye, “Kapeesh?”

You were silent, fists balled by your sides, as you resisted the urge to strangle the forward where he stood. Taking your silence as compliance, Ryusei rolled his eyes and began to stroll out of the locker room, done with the conversation. That is, if you had not prevented his departure by lunging your fist forward and balling up the back of his shirt from behind. On instinct, the blonde whipped around with the intention of landing one of his infamous kicks on the side of your head, which you easily countered by grabbing the front of his shirt in one hand and his face in the other and slammed him down onto the floor.

Like a hyena trapped in a poacher's net, he struggled fiercely beneath you, hissing, spitting, biting, and snarling at you. But you persisted in your silence, pressing harder with your hand on his jaw until you were forcefully smushing his cheek against the ground, forcing him to finally submit under your brute strength. The two of you lay there for a while, Ryusei panting heavily beneath you and you glowering him down with every inch of your being, before it was you who broke the silence.

“I’m sick of your shit, Ryusei.” For emphasis, you pressed down harder on his face, relishing in the whimper that emitted from his lips while you did so. “Talking about how I ‘sound like your old man’, well, maybe I should act like him and knock some fuckin’ sense into you, huh?”

Ryusei’s eyes flashed for a brief moment, full of indignation and trepidation, but you were unyielding.

“ . . . Do it, pus—”

You didn’t hesitate to give him a quick pop on the mouth to shut him up, much to his astonishment. Before he could react, you captured fistfuls of his spiked locks in your hand, dragging him over to the benches until you could sit down and lug your 185cm boyfriend over your muscular thighs. As the reality of the situation began to settle in on him, he immediately began to struggle as a slew of curses spat from his scowling brims. However, you quickly subdued him by pinning the wrist that was farthest from you behind his back and your own leg over the back of his calves, preventing him from moving anywhere.

“Y-Y/N, you can’t be serious!”

And you were. Without a word to him, your dominant hand rose into the air before delivering a swift swat to his rear. You didn’t hold back either, knowing that with his blue lock body suit and practice uniform on, the blow was well-cushioned. Ryusei lurched on your lap, his free hand dragging his blunt nails against the bench with a startled cry. His jaw clenched, extending his free arm as far as it could go before bringing it back unforgivingly to jab it into your side.

“Let me go, you fucking sadistic bastard!”

Sadistic, huh? You seized the top of his shorts and the bottom of his bodysuit in one swift motion, yanking them down his toned thighs to expose his equally caramlized cheeks. You struck his cheeks with a series of enraged blows, striking each one with a hard spank from your thick, callused hands. In an instant, his ass was turning a vivid red, and instead of attempting to resist you, he was concentrating on preparing for each of your relentless blows. However, your pace was unpredictable. Some swats were fast and in rapid succession of the latter, while others were slow and calculated, almost as though you were trying to soothe the skin in between hits. It was abundantly evident that you were trying to teach him a lesson and venting your anger toward him. Aside from the occasional grunt or whimper from your now-silent boyfriend, this was the quietest you had heard him all week.

You gave your boyfriend a moment of respite, making sure he had not fainted on your lap. You massaged his sore ass in your palm while releasing his limp arm to grab his hair and pull his head back so you could look him in the eye.

Ryusei's normally keen eyes were now unfocused and brimming with tears, rolling into the back of his head; his cheeks were flushed a fierce red, smeared with the few tears that had escaped his eyes; and his pink lips were parted, gasping as strands of crystalline drool pooled over his bottom lip.

You had ruined him.

“Oh, Ryusei. . .” You cooed mockingly, bringing both of your hands to his face to cup his cheeks gently. As you gently shook his face back and forth to get him to focus on you, he sank to his knees between your thighs. “C’mon, pretty boy. Stay w’me.”

It took a moment, but you could finally see the life resorting in his fuschia hues, just as you felt something sticky on your calf. Glancing past the ruined face of your boyfriend, you discovered that his slender cock was hard and pulsating, its red tip drooling with pre as it adhered to your leg and soaked a tiny puddle in the material of your bodysuit. Poor mutt. He had been so turned on by this that he nearly came right into your lap, and you hadn’t even realized it.

Then it hit you. That’s why he had gone quiet—not because he was focusing on prepping himself for your swats, but because he was focusing on trying not to cum.

“Aren’t you just pathetic, Ryu? Nuthin’ more than a dumb painslut who only thinks about fighting and getting a nut off.”

His brows furrowed from your degrading words, but he couldn’t help the way his cock jumped against your calf from having you be so, so mean to him.

“You wanna get off? Wanna cum all over your pretty self, hm?”

He gave a desperate nod, babbling out whatever few unintelligible words his stupid mind could manage, but they seemed to be in needy plea to cum. With a maniacal smile on your face, you violently wrenched your partner away from you while he looked up at you with those wide, desire-filled eyes.

“Y-Yes, fuck. Y/N please. .”

You silently moved your leg between his knees, pressing the top of your cleats against his balls, observing as he practically doubled-over your leg with a high-pitched whine, his cheek pressed against your knee as his arms wrapped around your calf. Already, his thighs were quivering around your foot as he tried not to cum right then and there from the stimulation.

“Fuck yourself on my shoe, Ryusei.” You demanded, watching as he gawked at you incredulously, but your expression was unchanging. “You wanna cum, don’t you?” You quipped, folding your arms over your chest and quirking an eyebrow at him, to which he nodded desperately once more. “Then hump my leg like the dirty mutt you are.”

With a muffled groan, he did as you demanded of him, albeit with a slight bit of hesitation. He made sure he was situated well enough, the underside of his cock pressed up against your laces as he gave a few testing thrusts of his hips, each one brushing against your shin every time. He gradually increased his speed before descending into complete degeneracy. Desperate to chase his release that had been building over time, he was fucking himself against your leg while huffing, panting, grunting, and groaning. Your partner, possessed by his untamed desire, was drooling over your thigh while you watched from above. Your own cock twitched in your shorts as you admired the already fucked-out and near pornographic expression on his face.

Aiding the little masochist further, you leaned over him to place yet another swat against his reddened ass, causing a cry of pleasure and pain to emit from his lips and his hips to sputter against you.

“You like being spanked like this, don’t you, painslut?” You growled into his ear, causing a high-pitched whine to sound from his drooling brims.

“Y-Yes! Yes! Hit me more! Ngh, p-please, Daddy!”

You hissed, your cock straining against the tight confines of the bodysuit you were trapped in, but you did not touch yourself just yet. This was about Ryusei, not you, after all.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess over Daddy’s leg? Gonna cum all over his cleats? Hm, baby?”

“Hah, sh-shit! Yes, yes, yes! I-I’m gonna—mm’fuck~! C-Cum!”

A sadistic grin arose on your features, swatting another well-placed smack on his ass before leaning back on the bench, glowering down at Ryusei from over your nose. His fucked-out gaze could barely meet your own as the movement of his hips grew sloppy and his thighs quivered around your leg from the way you looked at him. He huffed, panting and drooling against your thigh as a slew of curses escaped his lips—he was close.

However, before he could enjoy the sweet, sweet euphoria of finally reaching his high, your hand threaded itself into his locks, peeled him off of you, and pushed him back into an opposing bench behind him. Ryusei gawked at you, utterly dumbfounded, as he slouched back against the bench, processing what had just happened. His cock, which was an angry red and throbbing, twitched against his thigh, thoroughly messy with pre. It took a moment, but his surprise soon gave way to frustration, and his face twisted with rage. Did you really just deny him?

“Y-Y/N, what the fu—”

“—Did you seriously think that you deserved to cum after the shit you pulled both on the field and in here, huh, Ryusei? Oh, don’t tell me you forgot that this was a punishment, babe.”

At your faux pout and mocking tone, he went silent, his face burning with indignation as his lips pressed themselves into a thin line. His eyes, despite being clouded by desire, had the faintest hints of vexation and desperation in them, which you picked up on. You rose to your feet, laughing at Ryusei's angrily pleading gaze, still desperate for his release but enraged that you refused to give it to him.

You bent over at the waist, grabbing his jaw in your palm, forcing your heated gazes to meet.

“Clean yourself up and get your ass back on that field, Ryu—and don’t you dare touch yourself, got it?”

Ryusei did not say anything in response; he just stared at you with that same disgruntled expression on his pretty face. Before long, he nodded, albeit not without the faintest of pouts appearing on his lips as he did so. You leaned in and gave his disheveled brims a quick peck before straightening up once more.

“Good. Now, hurry up,” You ordered as you began to make your way out of the locker room, however, not without casting a salacious stare over your shoulder in his direction. He was watching you go with his fists balled at his sides, his eyes begging for you to come back and let you finish. You didn’t.

“Don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head, Ryu. I’m dealing with you once practice is over.”

#blue lock #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk imagines #ryusei shidou #michael kaiser #michael kaiser smut #shidou smut #ryusei shidou smut #blue lock x male reader #bllk x male reader #i suck at writing endings pls god dont perceive me #vampiiebitez #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 1 month ago

Text

TW: includes mentions of hate crimes within the context of intrusive thoughts related to safety

My dear lgbt+ kids,

This one will be a personal ramble, so feel free to skip:

I really wanted to go to a specific local Pride event this year. I talked about it ever since it was announced months ago, I excitedly shared every single little piece of information on it, I splurged on a whole outfit for it, I probably annoyed all my loved ones by not shutting up about how much I look forward to it - I was so determined to go.

Because it sounded fun and I was looking forward to celebrating my personal Pride milestone this way (I’ll finally get to legally change my name and gender marker this month!), but also for political reasons. Pride has always been important but I felt like it was especially important to go this year, with the (local and global) drift to right-wing extremism. It would’ve been a fairly small, rural event and I know how especially these types of Pride events can become targets of hate and how vital it is for them to get enough attendance and supporters.

And then - as you can probably guess from the way I worded all this - I ended up not going.

I don’t even have a really good reason for that. I wanted to go with my partner and he couldn’t go for work reasons - but that became clear days before the actual event. Sure, that was disappointing to both of us (it would’ve been our first time attending Pride together and I was really looking forward to that), but I planned to go without him then. It’s not like that’s unheard of, plenty of people go to such events as individuals rather than as couples or groups! So, I rearranged all my plans to make it a solo trip. I was a bit nervous about going alone because I kept seeing all these headlines about explosively increasing numbers of hate crimes this year and worried about potentially making myself an easy target by being a somewhat „visibly trans“ person attending alone but I was still determined to go! Or well, I was until the very day before - that’s when I stumbled across an advertisement online by a group of people who wanted to go there together and were looking for more people to join them.

This sounds like it should’ve been a great development, right? They wanted to go out for breakfast first, as a nice way for everyone to get to know each other, and then attend Pride together. I briefly entertained the idea of joining them - maybe I would feel safer in a group and have to worry less about standing out as an easy target? Who knows, maybe I’d even make some friends? - but I decided against it.

It was so last minute and I’m not a very spontaneous person, but more importantly I knew that „going out to eat�� is a huge anxiety trigger for me. It’s a challenge to even go out to eat with my partner or family - doing it with a bunch of strangers would probably feel overwhelming. Maybe it would’ve been a good way to confront that eating-in-public anxiety („do it scared“ style) but no, no, I wasn’t going to derail my special event I’ve been looking forward to for months by turning it into an exhausting anti-anxiety exercise to conquer rather than a fun event to enjoy! … And then it derailed anyway.

I got really in my head about it. I kept painting these awful mental pictures: just kept imagining how I’d go to the breakfast and deeply regret it. I’d feel anxious and awkward the whole time, I’d be so paralyzed with fear that I wouldn’t talk to anyone, I’d unsettle everyone with my silence until I get a panic attack and embarrass myself in front of all these strangers, everyone would think I’m insane and hate me, I’d still be the lonely kid in the corner of the playground even as a grown-ass man. My brain turned it into a whole horror movie! So, hard no on the breakfast - but then the next picture would spring up: I’d not go to the breakfast and just go to Pride alone as originally planned… and deeply regret that choice, too. I’d feel lonely and awkward the whole time, I’d just stand around nervously without even enjoying myself and hate myself for not having gone to the breakfast, everyone would think I’m weird for just standing there and laugh at me or be creeped out by me, and when I finally realize I don’t belong there with the people who actually have friends, then I’d probably run into counterprotesters and get straight-up murdered and nobody would even care.

Would either of these pictures have become reality? Nope. People don’t ever really think about us as hard as social anxiety will convince us. Chances are higher that nobody would’ve thought that I’m crazy or weird or unsettling - because nobody would really have thought much about me at all. That sounds like a depressed statement but that’s not what I mean. It’s just that people are usually preoccupied with their own lives and thoughts. I’m not the main character in other people’s stories. When I walk past someone who is standing somewhere alone and silent, I don’t go off on some long thought journey about how this must be the most unloveable person on earth, either! It’s not rational to assume that other people do that about me. (Plus, if someone would jump right over „he’s probably shy“ or „he’s the quiet type“ and instantly goes to „he must be unlovable“ and „I don’t care if he lives or dies“, that’d really just make them a rude judgmental jerk, if not a psychopath, and it would say nothing about my worth as a person).

I know all this - and the anxiety still won. I stayed home and now I regret that I stayed home.

That hurts. I can analyze it all I want, I can try to understand what went wrong and learn from it, I can be compassionate with myself and tell myself that I can just try again next year, I can make a donation to the team that organized the event so I still support the local community… and I still missed the event. I still missed my chance to celebrate my milestone this way.

There’s this quiet grief that comes with anxiety and watching it ruin opportunities like this. Watching yourself ruin opportunities like this when you rationally know better but anxiety doesn’t care about rational.

I don’t really have a neat ending point here. Just a slice of life that might resonate with some of you. Here’s to fighting anxiety - and to finding grace for ourselves in the setbacks along the way.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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chigiriizz · 2 months ago

Text

BLLK CHARACTER(S) WITH A OSAMU DAZAI S/O

Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Rin Itoshi, Shidou Ryusei, Sae Itoshi, Bachira Meguru, Hyoma Chigiri, Reo Mikage, and Tabito Karasu

YOICHI ISAGI

At first? Confused and Concerned™.

“Wait… did you just try to jump out a window over coffee being cold?”

Gets super anxious at your reckless jokes.

“Haha... unless?”

“NO. No ‘unless.’”

Despite your dramatics, he loves how intelligent you are—your strategic mind lowkey impresses him.

You challenge him in a way no one else does: mentally and emotionally.

You flirt with him shamelessly. He blushes every time. You live for it.

“Isagi, you’re the only one I’d let write my suicide note.”

“WHY would you say that??”

Rin Itoshi

You piss him off. Instantly.

“Are you always this annoying?”

“Only when I’m awake, Rinrin~”

BUT... he’s secretly intrigued. You’re unpredictable, and that draws him in.

Over time, he sees the cracks beneath the dark humor and starts caring more than he should.

You pull off a disappearing act one day and he panics. When he finds you, he just mutters:

“Don’t ever do that again… idiot.”

He never says it, but he likes your chaotic energy. You make life less dull.

Shidou Ryusei

Oh he LOVES you. You’re weird, hot, and just the right amount of unhinged.

“You tried to fake your death for a dramatic entrance? Babe. Marry me.”

Total menace duo. You’re sarcastic, he’s violent—unstoppable.

He’s the first to actually understand your suicidal jokes and doesn’t get scared by them.

Instead, he pulls you close and says, “If you’re gonna self-destruct, take me with you.”

…you laugh, but you know he means it.

Sae Itoshi

Thinks you’re exhausting. Your flair for drama makes his eye twitch.

But then? You hit him with a perfectly timed insight that reveals you’ve been reading him like a book.

He’s lowkey impressed.

“You’re annoying. But you’re not dumb.”

There’s a rare moment where he catches you staring out the window quietly. No joke. No sarcasm. Just silence.

That’s when he starts seeing your pain.

Will never admit it, but he’s growing protective of you. Even if you drive him crazy.

Meguru Bachira

“You’re like me! But… more emo!”

He loves your weirdness. It’s refreshing.

Will ask you at least ten times if you actually want to die or if it’s just ✨aesthetic✨.

“Wouldn’t it be poetic if I just—”

“NOPE! You’re too pretty for death.”

Draws little doodles of you with angel wings and a ‘DO NOT DIE’ sign.

You open up about your inner darkness, and he listens seriously. Doesn’t judge. Just holds your hand quietly.

“I’ll be your monster if you let me protect you.”

Hyoma Chigiri

Is both alarmed and fascinated by you.

You flirt with him constantly, and he pretends to hate it. He doesn’t.

“Hyoma~ If I die, I want your beautiful hair draped across my coffin.”

“...You’re not dying. Shut up.” (he’s blushing though.)

Thinks you’re too smart for your own good—and he’s right.

Once, he saw you staring blankly at nothing and it genuinely worried him. After that, he checks in on you all the time.

Might not understand your humor fully, but he wants to understand you.

Reo Mikage

“You’re like a tragic poet who owns stock in chaos.” He says this like it’s hot.

Treats you like royalty to try and ��fix” your nihilistic tendencies.

“If you had a private island and caviar every day, would you stop talking about dying?”

“Tempting, Reo. Tempting.”

Realizes quickly you don’t need fixing, just someone who stays.

You quote poetry to flirt, and he throws his credit card at you like:

“Say that again but in Gucci.”

You end up becoming the person he shares his fears with—because you always seem to know the right thing to say.

Tabito Karasu

Instantly matches your sarcasm. You two have peak banter energy.

“Life is meaningless.”

“Good. Means I can waste it on you.”

Constantly roasting each other, but nobody else is allowed to touch you.

Figures out early that your jokes are a shield. He doesn’t call it out, but he lets you know he’s here.

One night, you’re both lying on the rooftop. You whisper, “Ever feel like no one gets you?”

He glances at you and says, “You’re not alone, dumbass.”

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renlyslittlerose · 2 months ago

Note

Not sure if you are still taking prompts but 🙈 one of the Obikin injured and the other worried sick (in a cute way)?

Thank you, peach! I tried to make Obi-Wan worried, but you know how he is - worried and annoyed go hand in hand~ 😂

---

“You’re an idiot.”

“Sorry, Master.”

“A complete idiot.”

“I didn’t - ah - I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Collapsing into a small niche in the side of a rock wall, Anakin let out another gasp as pain shot through his side. Pressing into the wound, he bit down on the inside of his cheek while Obi-Wan knelt next to him.

“You meant to tell me you fell into a pit of droids?”

“I thought I could take them all.”

“There were fifty, Anakin. Fifty droids against one Jedi.”

Anakin smiled then, despite the pain. “I did take them all, though.”

Obi-Wan’s hands paused over his belt. His gloves were stained in Anakin’s blood, black fabric made darker still. Anakin still wasn’t sure what had gotten him - there was too much blood for a blaster bolt, but the pain didn’t ache like a stab wound from a bayonet. As if reading Anakin’s thoughts, Obi-Wan pulled Anakin’s hand away and ripped the fabric of his tunic, exposing the wound to the cool air.

“Kriff, Obi-Wan, be a little more gentle?”

“I’m not a healer, so don’t expect a healer’s touch,” Obi-Wan mumbled. Leaning in, Obi-Wan hid his expression from Anakin as he touched the edges of the wound. Pain skittered through Anakin’s body again, and he held back his gasp when Obi-Wan dropped cold bacta on to it. “Looks like you cut yourself on one of the destroyed droids. It probably happened when you stumbled on the thirty or so corpses you’d left behind, on your bid to finish off the remaining twenty.”

Ah yeah, that part. “Thought I felt something…”

“You’re lucky it’s not worse,” Obi-Wan said. His touch softened then, and Anakin watched as he removed his glove and massaged the bacta with the tips of his bare fingers.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Master. You taught me well.”

Obi-Wan’s expression tightened, and he kept his gaze steady on his task as he spoke. “You never stop worrying about your Padawan. It doesn’t matter if they’re a Master on the Council, aged and wise. You’ll still worry about them.”

Anakin thought of Ahsoka then. She’d become so capable over the last few months, and yet Anakin knew he’d always see her as the skinny, chatty kid who didn’t know the meaning of rank or discipline.

Sitting in silence, Anakin let Obi-Wan clean and cover his wound. The bacta had numbed the area, but his abdomen still tensed with every breath, the muscles flexing despite the damage. When he was done, Obi-Wan sat back on his haunches and brushed his fingers against the tabards of his clothes, staining the fabric with bacta and blood. Anakin’s gut clenched, but he swallowed his guilt down. He’d done the right thing, even if it was stupid.

“Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan finally looked up. Anakin expected fear, or maybe sadness - a hint of grief for the thought of almost losing his ‘darling boy.’ Instead he was met only with familiar annoyance. Returning the glare, Anakin sat up a little straighter and bit back a wince. “I don’t regret it.”

“Why would you? Now you’ve got a scar to show off to your men.”

“And a large scar that you can admire when we’re—”

“That won’t be happening for a very, very long time, Anakin. You’re injured, remember, and you’ve got weeks of rest before you can do anything so… straining.”

“Who said I’d be straining? I could—”

“I’m not doing all the work,” Obi-Wan sniffed. “Do whatever you want with yourself, but I will not be responsible for you reopening your wound.”

Maybe the whole reckless bravery thing wasn’t such a good idea.

#obikin #star wars fanfiction #lemon fanfiction #himilce-persephoniea

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reijisteacup · 1 month ago

Note

Could I ask for headcanons for the diaboys where their S/O has such a shitty immune system they keep getting sick over and over again? English is not my first language, sorry if it's hard to understand 🥹 Love the blog!!!

Thank you so much!! Your English is totally fine — I understood everything perfectly, and I’m so glad you enjoy the blog!

Sakamaki's

Shu Sakamaki:

He acts annoyed, but the moment your temperature spikes, Shu becomes unusually attentive. He lounges around with you and lets you sleep against him while playing soft music to soothe you. He won't say it out loud, but the sight of you too tired to move makes his chest ache. He starts keeping an eye on your symptoms quietly and even offers his body heat — "You're freezing again. Just come here already." If anyone comments on how clingy he’s gotten, he brushes it off with a yawn and a lazy, "Tch. They're mine, that’s all."

Reiji Sakamaki:

This man turns into a full-time physician. He keeps a strict schedule of your medication, monitors your hydration, and gets angry when you push yourself too hard. He scolds you about wearing proper clothing and avoiding drafts, but his concern is genuine. Reiji secretly fears your body won't be able to keep up — so he overcompensates by controlling everything he can. He even concocts specialized tonics in his lab, testing them carefully on himself first. He won’t stop until he finds something that gives you relief.

Laito Sakamaki:

At first, he jokes about it — "Aww~ my precious kitten’s sick again? Maybe I should wrap you in bubble wrap!" — but when you’re actually shivering or coughing too hard, his voice softens. He lies beside you and strokes your hair, whispering flirty nonsense just to distract you from the discomfort. Laito takes joy in caring for you, but deep down, he hates how fragile you are — it reminds him of things he wants to forget. Still, he’ll kiss your warm forehead and say, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you until you’re all better~.”

Kanato Sakamaki:

Kanato hates it. Seeing you constantly sick terrifies him in a way he can’t express. He lashes out, cries, and demands to know why you’re “always disappearing” into fevers and weakness. Once his emotions settle, he becomes very clingy and delicate — bringing you candy, dressing you in soft nightgowns, and singing to you while you rest. He talks to Teddy about you like you might not wake up. His care is obsessive: no one else is allowed near you, and if you’re in pain, he insists on being the one to "fix it."

Ayato Sakamaki:

He gets loud and dramatic the moment he sees you sneeze. “Oi! Are you sick again?! Dammit, Chichinashi, are you trying to stress me out?” But under all that yelling is a very worried vampire. Ayato doesn’t know how to deal with your weakness, so he overcompensates by acting like your protector. He’ll carry you, try to cook (keyword try), and act like he’s handling it perfectly — but at night, he stays awake watching you breathe. The moment you look even slightly better, he goes, “See? Told you I’d save you.”

Subaru Sakamaki:

He’s a nervous wreck when you get sick. He might punch a wall out of frustration, cursing his inability to make you feel better instantly. But he stays close, always silently hovering, offering you medicine with trembling hands and brushing your hair from your eyes when you’re sleeping. Subaru doesn’t talk much when you’re sick — he just acts. Carries you when you’re too dizzy to walk, fetches warm compresses, and refuses to leave your side. If you thank him, he blushes bright red and grumbles, “I’m not doin’ this for praise…”

Mukami's

Ruki Mukami:

Ruki becomes extremely methodical. Your health becomes his new project — he writes meal plans, buys you vitamins, and reads medical journals in secret. He acts like it’s a responsibility, but when you’re curled up in his lap, burning with fever, his hands tremble as he strokes your hair. "You must endure this… I’ll ensure your body strengthens, Livestock." He’s determined to "fix" it, but in the meantime, he never lets you suffer alone. You’ll always wake up to him nearby, reading and waiting for your fever to break.

Kou Mukami:

Kou laughs it off at first — “Ehh? You caught something again, M Neko-chan~? You’re hopeless!” — but behind the scenes, he’s unraveling. He knows what it’s like to have a fragile body and can’t handle the idea of losing someone he loves like that. Kou will spoil you while you’re sick: comfy pillows, warm baths, and plushies. He wants you to smile even while your nose is red and you’re miserable. And when no one’s looking, he stares at you and whispers softly, “You can’t leave me too… okay?”

Yuma Mukami:

He absolutely panics, but in a protective way. “What the hell’s wrong with your immune system?!” He doesn’t mean to sound mean — he’s just scared. Yuma immediately starts cooking you heavy, hearty meals, stuffing you with nutrients, and growling if you try to leave the bed. He carries you bridal-style to the bathroom if needed and stays up all night keeping cold cloths on your head. He’s a gentle giant when it comes to you like this. “I gotcha. Ain’t no damn sickness takin’ you from me, got it?”

Azusa Mukami:

Azusa doesn’t panic. He understands pain and fragility better than anyone. He treats your sickness as something sacred, something to cradle and protect. He’ll gently wipe your tears, whisper “I’m here… always…” and never leave your bedside. He doesn’t get scared when your fever gets high — instead, he just holds you and hums softly to keep your heart steady. Azusa sees you at your weakest and still calls you strong. “Even when you… feel broken… you’re beautiful… to me.”

Tsukinami's

Carla Tsukinami:

He masks his worry with sternness. “Your body is too weak. It must be corrected.” Carla will delve into ancient knowledge, rare remedies, and even magical means to strengthen you. While he seems cold, he tends to your illness personally — bathing you, feeding you tonics, and holding your hand with surprising gentleness. The idea of you dying because of human frailty enrages him. “I will not allow this world to take you from me,” he says with terrifying resolve. If immortality were an option, he’d give it to you without question.

Shin Tsukinami:

He starts off annoyed — “Ugh, are you seriously sick again?” — but it doesn’t take long for his mask to slip. When you’re too weak to argue back, Shin’s expression hardens with worry. He acts rough, but his actions scream concern: he fluffs your pillows, makes your favorite snacks, and watches over you like a guard dog. He growls at anyone who tries to disturb you. Shin doesn’t know how to express fear of loss, so he just stays close. “You’re gonna be fine… I won’t let anything take you away. Got that?”

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fanfiction #ask me anything #x reader #relationship #ask response

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ducksido · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I hope you're having a lovely day. I was watching some "Avengers" movies (god, I can’t stop watching the one called "war" or something like that), and out of nowhere, I started imagining—how would the characters from Twisted Wonderland react to a Yuu (preferably male) who’s an Avenger? I was thinking you could take inspiration from different characters(? I mean, maybe a Wonder Woman (in this case, Wonder Man? 😓) dating Riddle, and Leona with Black Panther?? Sorry if I’m not making much sense. 😭😭

Riddle Rosehearts × Wonder Man!Yuu

Powers: Super strength, flight, indestructible bracers conjured from magic. Noble, principled, and terrifyingly efficient in battle. Vibe: You’re basically a walking justice manifesto wrapped in charisma and polite sass.

Riddle tries to scold you for breaking school rules, but the moment you disarm a rogue monster from the Ghost Camera event with your bare hands, he’s sputtering.

“That’s... not how we duel at NRC, Yuu! And also—did you just catch a bolt of lightning?!”

You: “You said to handle it without causing damage to the courtyard.”

He becomes lowkey obsessed with your sense of justice. You believe in rules because they protect the weak—his heart does a full 360. The Heartslabyul students are so confused when Riddle starts blushing every time you call him “your little rose.”

Leona Kingscholar × Panther King!Yuu

Inspired by Black Panther Powers: Superhuman strength and reflexes, enhanced senses, vibranium-clawed gauntlets, ancestral magic from a hidden jungle kingdom. Vibe: Calm, strategic, and a bit smug, with deep loyalty to your people.

Leona thinks you’re just another high-and-mighty noble at first—until you outmaneuver him during a Spelldrive match without even sweating. The audacity.

Leona: “Don’t think I didn’t see that fake-out. You trying to show me up?” You: “Just making sure the prince gets his claws sharpened.”

He finds you infuriating and attractive in equal measure. He respects strength, but he adores subtlety—and you’re both. You challenge his laziness and show him what it means to lead with grace. Over time, your quiet authority makes him soften (just a little).

Azul Ashengrotto × Iron Mage!Yuu

Inspired by Iron Man/Doctor Strange fusion Powers: Tech genius, magical artifact wielder, portal manipulation. A dramatic cape. Vibe: Snarky, charming, and too smart for your own good.

You run circles around Azul in business negotiations and smugly open portals like it’s child’s play. He pretends to be annoyed, but really? He’s obsessed. You two are the “too powerful for anyone else” power couple. Everyone is scared of you both.

Azul: “I’d offer you a contract, but I imagine you’d find a loophole I didn’t even write yet.” You: “Oh, Azul, darling—I invented loopholes.”

The Lounge thrives with your tech support. You built Jade and Floyd magical espresso machines. You made Azul a holographic customer tracker. He’s in love and terrified.

🐉 Malleus Draconia × Stormbringer!Yuu

Inspired by Thor Powers: Weather control, god-like durability, storm-born magic. Can summon storms with your voice. Vibe: Regal, intense, a bit dramatic—but charmingly clueless about Earth things.

Malleus stares in awe the first time you call down a thunderstorm during a Night Raven blackout. You stand in the middle of the storm, eyes glowing, and then say:

“Sorry, I was cold. Thought I’d make some lightning to warm up.”

He finds you fascinating. You're powerful in a way that’s natural to him. The others fear him, but you match his energy—no fear, only wonder. You talk to him like an equal, even when sparking with raw magic.

You two take midnight flights together, him with bat wings, you surfing clouds like a celestial.

Vil Schoenheit × Vision!Yuu (aka “Aesthetic Android” BF)

Inspired by: Vision Powers: Intangibility, flight, hyper-intelligence, and emotional evolution through data and experience. Elegant af.

Vil didn’t know what to expect when Crowley introduced you as a “foreign exchange student from a distant… timeline.” You glide into the room, composed, graceful, and glowing faintly with cosmic energy. You analyze NRC like a poetic computer:

“The beauty of this place… is data arranged into visual harmony.”

Vil's ego was ready to scoff—until you proceeded to walk through a wall, save a Dorm Spelldrive match mid-game by phasing through the field, and then compliment his foundation by comparing it to nebula shimmer.

You’re logical, well-spoken, and slowly learning emotion—especially love. Vil finds himself constantly surprised when you’ll suddenly say things like:

“Statistically speaking, I find myself recalibrating around you, Vil. I believe this is what humans call… affection?”

He is NOT prepared for a boyfriend who phases through mirrors to bring him fresh tea during spa days. But he adores it. You remind him beauty isn’t just visual—it’s emotional, too.

Idia Shroud × Spider-Man!Yuu (aka “Neighborhood Chaos Gremlin” BF)

Inspired by: Peter Parker / Spider-Man Powers: Wall-crawling, web-slinging, spider senses, chaotic hero energy. Vibe: Nerdy, snarky, and charmingly awkward.

Idia has never met anyone who can beat him at games AND do backflips off the ceiling. You’re the only one in the entire school who can sneak up on him—by hanging upside down outside his window and tapping on the glass with a webbed hand.

“Hey babe! Wanna skip class and swing around the school? I found a cool mossy rock!”

He thought you were a hallucination at first. “There’s no way a real person just thwipped onto my gaming chair.” But then you offered him a home-coded arcade cabinet with your webs spun into LED wiring.

You two bond over tech, coding, and being the most awkwardly brilliant people in the room. You call each other dumb nicknames like “WiFi Warrior” and “Web Head,” and you cling to walls during romantic conversations just because you can.

When you get serious (like, defending him from a magical cyber attack), your goofy nature flips into “calm hero mode,” and Idia melts.

Kalim Al-Asim × Captain Sunshine!Yuu (aka “Yuu Rogers”)

Inspired by: Captain America Powers: Enhanced strength, speed, leadership instincts, a shield made from sunsteel. Glowing hope incarnate. Vibe: Sunshine protector who makes inspirational speeches and also loves hugs.

Kalim was already sunshine personified—but then YOU showed up.

You caught a falling chandelier on your first day with one hand, told Crowley “with all due respect, sir,” and then helped mop the floor. Kalim was starstruck.

“Waitwaitwait—are you a hero hero?! Like—defends the innocent and jumps off buildings and helps little kittens cross the street?! THAT’S SO COOL!!”

You both get excited about the smallest things—buffet tables, flower crowns, matching outfits. You're a “power couple” in the most literal way.

You give heroic speeches and Kalim claps every time. You protect others without hesitation. And when he gets overwhelmed? You kneel down and smile softly:

“You shine so bright, Kalim. Let me shield you when you need it.”

He’s sobbing. Jamil is quietly begging you to not encourage his chaos. You do anyway.

#twst #twst x reader #twst yuu #twst wonderland #twst headcanons

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takamiwife · 9 months ago

Note

Ahem another request x3

Could i request a fluff fic or hcs with Shigaraki or Hawks being rlly clingy/cuddly? :>

Also the reader being taller then them? :3

I swearrrrrrr i dont have a thing for guys being shorter 👀👀👀👀

AWW YESS THIS IS SO CUTEEE and like my last one. BOF. WE DOIN BOF!!

btw, thank you to everyone who has been requesting things in my inbox lately!! i am slowly but surely making my way thru them lol. this is a bit shorter and i do rly apologize for that but the next ones will be longer i promise !! <3

now ms takamiwife loves a clingy man. like i’d so much rather have that than an emotionally distant guy and keigo nor tomura is that

i think at first it was hard for keigo to get too close or attached for fear that you were going to leave, but you made it abundantly clear every single day that you would not

it was kind of like getting a hurt dog to trust you

but with time and patience, he quickly realized that you were here to stay

it was a bit of a shock to see how cuddly he had become. like while you were making dinner, he’d come home, and without a word hug you from behind, his face pressed between your shoulder blades

or while watching tv or a movie, he’d sit with his head between your thighs while you massaged his wings or played with his hair, but he loved sitting in your lap while your head rests on his shoulder

like he is not chill about you at ALL. ur his world and he makes that very clear

it’s rare that you guys will be out and he won’t be holding your hand

but one of his favorites is hugging you from the front, because his ears are just a little above your chest, meaning he can easily listen to the rhythm of your heartbeat. he does this at night too to fall asleep while he hugs your side. it’s like white noise to him

now tomura is so clingy it’s almost annoying, in the best way

like he now wears four fingered gloves to bed so that he can properly hold your hands while you spoon him

when you two are together, it takes a strong pair of hands to rip him off of you

unlike keigo who took time to warm up to you, tomura was quickly attached (saying this from my own experience lol), but subconsciously he was absolutely terrified that he’d scare you and you’d leave him like everyone else

but he didn’t scare you in the slightest

is it weird that he loved being shorter than you?

i mean, for someone who strikes fear into the hearts of the public, he sure loves when you stand over him, smiling as you held out your arms

you know how much keigo and tomura love cuddling you, so you’ll often come up behind them and hug them, nuzzling your face into their neck. it instantly calmes their nerves. literally xanax in a hug

after they began to date you, their favorite activities became whatever they could do while laying on or with you. tomura playing games on his switch while laying on your lap? perfect. keigo reading, holding a book with one hand while the other played with your hair or hand? never felt better

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wrldhoon · 2 months ago

Text

sigils and sin (m)

02 ── .✦

⋆˚★ pairing: enhypen ༝ fem.ᐟreader

word count — 7.5k

౨ৎ masterlist

synopsis ⊹ ࣪ ˖ war. power. loss. love. secrets. sin. you were trained to do many things. that was why you chose to be here. the dragon-riding quadrant of the notorious Veirthorne Academy. they trained you to fight, to win, to survive. yet, they never taught you to be human.

genre(s) ᯓ fantasy, angst, slow-burn, multiple love interests, smut

⤷ warnings: explicit content, violence, death, graphic depictions of injury

ꨄ︎ note: spent all day writing this and i really enjoyed it tbh... a bit longer than the first chapter BUT new characters have been introduced so YAYYY!! next chap will prob take longer since im busy all weekend but hopefully that means it will be longer.. happy reading! <3

02 ─ the culling

anger.

to lose control is to place a weapon in your own hands, its edge pointing outwards.

a weapon that wounds.

one that kills.

deadly, powerful, and all consuming.

it courses through your veins until there is more feeling than blood—the one thing that served as a reminder that you were still human.

you could feel the warm trickle of scarlet coat your fingers, slowly dripping onto the gravel beneath your feet. his eyes glanced down at your hand, and not once did his expression falter. “you’re bleeding, cadet.”

your gaze never left his face.

you hated it.

you hated that annoying look on his face whenever he saw you, like it was uniform.

you hated his eyes. deep, brown eyes that seemed just a little too empty.

you hated his lips. the way the corners turned up in a smug smile.

you hated him.

“i know that,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

“then, you better go get that fixed. wouldn’t want you bleeding out like this during training, do we?”

“of course, sir,” your tone was mocking. you watch his eyes narrow, jaw tightening in pure annoyance. you knew the healers had returned to their rightful quadrant already. the next time you see a healer would be at the next big trial—whenever that may be. you knew he knew that, too.

jake.

your thoughts drifted to him, his sweet smile and gentle hands. you had barely met him, but he emitted this sense of warmth that loosened the tight coils of your fears. the kind of person that made you feel like the world could burn, but as long as he was alive, you could be at peace.

as if maybe, just maybe, all the light hadn’t been stripped from the world just yet.

you hoped to see him again.

the boy turned his attention to the group before him. “i will be your squad leader for the remainder of your time here. this group, this section, this squad—it does not guarantee your survival. you have been assigned to the most dangerous, unpredictable section within this quadrant, because that is what you are. that means those around you are, too. death is inevitable. so, prepare for it. become it. anyone can be your enemy, whether it is today, tomorrow, or for the rest of your life,”

your thoughts drifted off to that girl.

the one who pushed you on the stairs.

your eyes scanned the rows of cadets around you.

there were fifteen of you total, excluding your dear squad leader.

she was no where in sight.

you took mental note of that. from now on, you knew she would come after you. you could feel it.

“there are no formal events scheduled for the rest of the night. we will take you to your barracks—allow you all to settle in. get in as much sleep as you can tonight. you will need it for tomorrow,” with that, he turned on his heels and began moving forward. the rest of you followed along behind him. you weave through a few people before reaching the person you had been looking for since you had left jake.

your steps fell into line with hers. sensing your presence, she turned in your direction. her eyes widened in surprise, a cheery grin gracing her features.

she was pretty.

“oh thank Gods, you’re here too? i was worried i’d never see you again after today,” you returned the gesture.

“i don’t die easily,” it was a joke, but she could tell it stung. just a little bit.

she slid her arm into the nook of your elbow, “well, from now on i will make sure you don’t die at all. we will be making it to third year together. it is my personal mission to break that stigma.”

you gaped at her in surprise.

third year.

rumor had it that not many cadets even survived long enough to make it past the first week.

living long enough to make it through first year was already a high accomplishment in itself.

“i’m hana, by the way. i never got to ask for your name ‘cause.. y’know. near-death and all,” you let out a soft chuckle at that. “y/n.”

“okay, it’s settled then. y/n and hana—making it to third year together!”

she was way too happy considering she almost died just a few hours ago.

maybe you needed someone like that, though.

that glimmer of hope to drown out your fear.

hope in a world overwhelmed with suffering.

you gave each other a knowing look before turning your attention back towards the front. the cobblestone walls of the riders quadrant was decorated with moss and vines. its cracks and rough corners emphasized the age of the academy. you noticed the slight divots underneath your feet.

hundreds, thousands of cadets had walked this very same path.

some for the very last time, others on their way to becoming riders.

you wondered if you could live long enough to consider yourself one of them.

“this will be your sleeping quarters. training begins at dawn. i expect you to be there on time,” and with that, he left.

you watched as his figure retreated down the hallway, his eyes briefly locked with yours once he had reached the end of it. then, he turned the corner.

he was gone.

something about his gaze sent chills up your spine. you didn’t know what it was, but it would be at the back of your mind for the rest of the night.

everyone settled into their respective beds. you chose the bed right in the middle beside hana. the minute the door had shut, you felt it. there was something eery about the barracks.

the atmosphere.

it was… tense.

a type of tension that felt deadly.

you tried not to dwell on it too much, but that feeling.

that gut feeling—it never left.

suddenly, the torches went out. a strong gust of wind blew across the room, causing everyone to shudder. you laid on the thin mattress, the sad excuse of a blanket pulled up to your chin. it was freezing. your body trembled lightly. the sheet did little to keep you warm, to ease your nerves.

then, a choked gasp was heard.

you immediately sat up, head snapping towards the source of the sound. you froze. the sight in front of you left you speechless.

the boy from earlier.

the one with the broken arm.

he had one end of a rolled up sheet in his fist, the other end between his bared teeth.

he was choking someone, strangling them with the shredded cloth.

“what the fuck are you doing?!” someone shouted, rushing over in attempt to save them. their face had turned a nasty shade of red, then blue. their nails were digging into the boy’s arm, scratching at him till he bled.

he looked over his shoulder, his gaze sharp. in one swift movement, he turned, his fist flying straight towards the cadet’s face.

crack.

the punch was powerful enough to knock her down, hands over her nose as she cried out in pain. he had broken her nose and Gods know what other bones in her face. he was strong. horrifyingly, so. you could feel your heart pounding in your ears. it muffled the sounds of chaos emitting from the other cadets.

“you have been assigned to the most dangerous, unpredictable section within this quadrant, because that is what you are.”

“anyone can be your enemy, whether it is today, tomorrow, or for the rest of your life.”

that was what he said.

but this was what he meant.

loyalty was not a given just because you were in the same squad.

“they are your family.”

a lie.

deception weaved between hopeful words, spoken with promise.

this wasn’t family.

this was survival.

and survival had only one rule.

to kill.

anyone can be your enemy, and that meant everyone was.

you leaned over the empty space between you, gripping hana’s arm and dragging her onto your bed. “they’re going to start killing each other.”

you could see the fear etched into her features, “but i thought—”

“no, hana. remember where we are. what we are trying to become. this is not a game,” everything began to piece itself together in your head.

“there are only so many dragons willing to bond each year. there are hundreds of us. dragons don’t bond with weak humans, remember?” you reminded her, hands tightening around her shoulders as if to ground her, to keep her from completely losing her mind in this moment.

the weak—they die first or they die at the hands of a dragon.

“the parapet, that guy?” she nodded her head, her whole body locked up in fear.

“he tried to kill you. and me. that didn’t end just because we made it across,” you could see the realization settle, her skin underneath your fingers suddenly feeling hot.

“this—this is cruel! this isn’t human! i don’t want to kill someone that’s fighting for the same thing i am!” you could see tears prick at her eyes.

you knew then.

she was scared.

weak.

that meant she was a target.

you knew being tied to her would make you one, too.

you had to make another choice.

kill her and turn into the monster you had sworn to become when you stepped foot on to that bridge, or protect her and cling onto the part of you that was still human.

you thought back to your family. what would they think of you if you had succumbed to the desire to kill? would they feel disgusted, horrified by who you were becoming? or would they praise you for surviving? Gods, was it cruel. to survive as a rider, you had to let go of humanity. it all made sense, too, which terrified you. you were here to fight for a spot—a bond.

dragons themselves, they’re monsters. you couldn’t escape that fate even if you tried, unless you were weak. unless a dragon deemed you unworthy and burned you to ashes on the spot.

unless you die.

“you don’t have to kill anyone. you just need to live.” your words left a bitter taste in your mouth, because you knew it was a lie.

this was just the beginning.

it starts with deceit.

then, it spirals into something savage.

a vicious truth you can never come back from.

all hell had broken loose.

cadets—some went for the kill, others stayed alert and chose to avoid conflict at all costs.

some kills were successful, others weren’t. their failures birthed resentment. they sparked grudges and fueled rivalries that would not be forgotten until death.

then, there was blood.

it stained the walls, flowed like connecting rivers along the ground. the only evidence that those people ever lived. their bodies had been thrown over the side, hitting the concrete below with a painful thud.

it was brutal.

the scent of death. it made you sick. you could feel the bile rising in your throat, yet you forced it back down. you couldn’t show weakness. you already had a giant target on your back. so, you didn’t sleep. you forced yourself to stay awake, to watch. the moment you fell asleep, a hand could reach for your throat, a blade could sink itself into your heart.

so you sat there. right in the middle of the storm.

you prayed.

you prayed that your body would stay awake from pure adrenaline, that if someone lunged at you now, you would be able to react without hesitation.

without fear.

you allowed it to dissolve, slip between your fingers and get buried beneath everything else. you stored it away in a tiny, little box in your mind. you couldn’t afford to be afraid, because fear gets you killed.

to survive, you had to become it.

by the time dawn had arrived, there were eleven of you left.

four people—dead.

hana was curled up beside you, her hands wrapped tightly around your arm, using your presence as an anchor to reality. your eyes were dry and irritated from being open for so long. a gentle breeze stirred the air. you could see the sun rising above the horizon from where you sat. you made it through the first day.

three years was starting to look a lot less doable.

the door creaked open.

a boy, one you hadn’t seen before, stood at the archway. all eyes fell on him.

he scanned the room, noticing the sudden decrease in cadets. his expression was unreadable. you could see the faint shadow of his stubble across his jaw, his dark brown hair falling just below his eyes. there was a scar on his left eyebrow, cutting dangerously close to his eyelid.

“training begins in twenty minutes. gather your things and meet in the hall once you are ready. your squad leader is not particularly fond of late attendance,” he ignored the blood. he didn’t even bother asking about the four missing people. he treated it like it was normal, and maybe, it was.

you stood up from your bed, slipping on your boots. hana did the same, but her movements seemed more sluggish. she hadn’t slept a wink, either. after the events of yesterday, you were sure you would drop dead in a few hours. your body was exhausted, bruised, bleeding, and you had no time to properly rest. the cuts on your palms had reopened. you could feel the sting every time your hands flexed to tie your laces together. the once clean gauze was now a dull brown color. your torso felt raw, the bruising always being worse the second day, but they didn’t care. no matter what injuries you may have, it didn’t matter. bruised ribs and broken arms were an occupational hazard—came with the job.

you pushed the pain down into that same little box you had made up in your head. the more you focused on the sting and the ache, the worse it would feel.

you followed the others outside of the room, hana trailing behind you. you could sense she had been thinking all night, her brain trying to justify everything all at once.

regret, shame, and fear.

she felt it all. now, she couldn’t back out. it was too late.

your only way out of the rider’s quadrant was to die.

the training room was big; big enough to hold sixteen people.

the room had everything a rider-in-training could ask for. sparring mats laid across the floor, spaced apart with perfect precision. punching bags hung on one end of the room, while the other end had a wall lined with weapons.

real weapons. not sparring sticks and wooden swords, but real ones. the steel glistened as sunlight reflected off of it.

all the cadets stood in orderly formation. you chose to ignore the four empty spaces behind you. at the front stood squad leader yang, the male from earlier, a woman, and two other men you had never seen before. they all emitted the same energy.

powerful, cunning, and unforgiving.

pure blood dragon riders.

“made it on time, i see.”

yang.

your eye twitched in annoyance, or exhaustion; you weren’t sure. you ignored his remark, gaze turning towards the unfamiliar faces.

the woman—she had short pink hair that stopped right above her shoulders. with her outfit, you could see a deep scar that ran down her forearm in a straight line. on the same arm, right at the bicep, was a mark. a tattoo, of sorts, that signified a rider’s bond with their dragon. the sigil was made with intricate lines, its vines wrapping around a blade that hung upside-down in the center.

the boy from earlier—he carried a weight that seemed centuries old. he looked to be around your age, maybe a little bit older, but still in his early twenties. he had taken off his overcoat, the black shirt he was wearing hugging his figure a little too well. his arms were toned and muscular, a result of the constant training and battles he had probably endured. there were no markings on his arms, aside from a few small scars that cascaded down to his wrists. there was a small symbol on his shirt, on the right side of his chest. a faint, gold emblem of a dragon facing the sky with two rings around it. you weren’t sure what it signified. a mark of importance, surely.

then, there was the male right beside him—there was something cold about him. his pale skin, sharp eyes, his hair messily splayed across his forehead. he was a kind of beautiful that was dangerous, the kind where if you got too close, you’d be burned (ironically). you noticed the little moles that decorated his face, almost invisible from where you stood. there was a scar on his cheek and one that ran down the side of his neck, disappearing underneath his black t-shirt. he was slightly bigger than the previous, the muscles in his arms bulging against the sleeves. his shoulders were broad and he was tall.

'Gods, forgive me.'

his bicep was covered with what looked to be branches, sharp and bare, wrapping fully around the limb like barbed wire. you knew he was strong. he didn’t need to prove himself for everyone to know what he was capable of.

right beside him stood another man you hadn’t met yet—this one had a quieter aura. not soft, just quiet, like a snake waiting for its prey. his arms were crossed over his chest. his top missed their sleeves, showing off his shoulders. he was turned towards the pinkette, conversing with her about something. it seemed serious. your eyes trailed to his back. it was slightly visible due to the missing parts of his top. you could make out a few dark, tattooed lines on his back. however, you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. his hair was brushed out of his face, parted neatly down the middle to expose his forehead. what surprised you was there were no marks on him. his skin was clear of damage, not a single abnormality to be seen. that intrigued you. he seemed older than you, too, so it would only make sense for him to have some sort of battle scars.

finally, your eyes landed on yang. the blonde boy that had your blood pressure rising by just existing. though, you couldn’t do anything about it. he was your squad leader. you had to obey him.

like a dog.

his hair was messy, too, but it still fell perfectly in front of his eyes. it pissed you off beyond imagination. he was wearing the same outfit as the rest of them—wide, black cargo pants and a simple black shirt, except his also had a symbol on it. it was the same as the other, but his had one ring instead of two. it made sense, then. it was an insignia of leadership.

you assumed the other boy was his second in command. his skin was empty of scars, too. maybe they were hidden, not visible to just anyone. as he turned around, your eyes caught the etching behind his neck. it barely peaked over his shirt, but you saw it. right below the tips of his golden hair were thick, intricate lines that most likely ran down the expanse of his backside. his shoulders were wide. it made you wonder how big his sigil was, too.

maybe it was as big as his ego.

he stepped forward, arms folding over his chest.

they really enjoyed doing that here.

“welcome to your first day of training. today, you will learn how to fight—hand to hand combat. proper physical ability is crucial. strength, stamina, speed, all of it. bonding with a dragon gives you abilities others could not even dream to touch, but it does not guarantee your life. battling with your hands is just as important,” he nodded his head at the four people behind him. they stepped up to the front in perfect sync. it was practiced, controlled, like they were military folk.

“the five of us will be watching over you all as you spar. you will go in pairs. if you don’t have a partner, you can choose someone who has previously went—or one of us.” the cadets swallowed nervously at that.

“second in command, lee heeseung,” the boy from this morning. he gave nothing but a slight nod of his head. “if i am ever absent and you need assistance, he will be who you go to.”

“park sunghoon, park jongseong, and nyra solmere—second and third year dragon riders. if you require extra training, you may rely on them as well,”

“don’t forget yourself, pretty boy.” the pinkette, now known as nyra, spoke. it earned a snicker from heeseung, both of their faces twisting with mischief.

“yang jungwon, everybody. your squad leader and a second year dragon rider. pretty impressive if you ask me. isn’t that right?” her tone was light, like she was teasing.

the blonde rolled his eyes, an annoyed huff leaving his lips. “back to more important matters,” he emphasized the word ‘important’ with a pointed glare, earning a shrug from nyra.

“do you think they’re dating?” hana whispered, eyes flickering between the two of them. “doubt it. riders don’t have time to date. plus, he’s a total dickhead. i’d feel sorry for anyone dating that.”

she looked at you in surprise, her lips morphing into a little smile, “not a fan. got it.”

“partner up. then, we will have each pair go one at a time.” the cadets began choosing their sparring partners. you and hana stuck beside each other, naturally. you both watched as the first two stepped up to the sparring mat. they stood facing each other, but had their attention turned towards jungwon to await instructions.

“the rules are as follows—no magic, not that you have any. other than that, no rules.” his arms remained crossed, eyes narrowing slightly on the first years before him, “you could kill each other, too, if you want.”

the room stilled. even here, where they would prepare you to take on the dangers of the outside world, you could die. there was no safety within the corners of these walls. you couldn’t risk trusting anyone. at least, not fully.

not even hana.

your thoughts became littered with doubt. what if she was using you? pretending to be your friend so she could ultimately kill you in the end? that’s what this was, right?

a survival of the fittest.

you couldn’t let those ideas take over. you had protected her and she saved your life. that had to have meant something.

you watched as they began to spar. their movements were calculated, perhaps they had trained well before today. every punch that landed was met with a returning kick or block. they fought like their lives depended on it. you didn’t know if one would try to kill the other or not, but they fought like that possibility could hold true at any moment. as if on cue, one of them reached into their boot, pulling out a short dagger. she lunged at her partner, plunging the blade into their stomach. you flinched, specks of their blood landing on your pants. she pulled the blade out, watching as they collapsed onto their knees. you could barely register the crimson that tainted your clothes before a loud sigh cut through the suffocating silence.

“alright, clean it up.” jungwon’s voice ordered, not even bothering to spare them another glance. sunghoon stepped forward, scooping up the cadet with both arms before carrying them out of the room. you didn’t know if they were dead or alive. perhaps, you’ll find out tomorrow. “so, who wants to go next?”

more began to step up. some were left with bruised knuckles, broken ribs and fingers, black eyes, and cuts so deep they would leave a mark once healed. this time around, nobody had died. you couldn’t get your hopes up, though. there was still a chance it could be you. if hana was as sly as your brain had convinced you she was—

“you,” you glanced in the direction of the five riders. all of their attention was on you as jungwon stepped onto the mat, eyes locked with yours.

“you’re with me.”

suddenly, that chance was a lot higher than you thought.

you stared at him in shock, fingers twitching at your sides. “i already chose a partner.”

jungwon glanced between you and hana, his shoulders lifting with a shrug.

“she can partner up with someone else. plus, there’s eleven of you. one of you would have to spar with one of us anyway. why not make it interesting. right, cadet?” that look on his face. it was the same one he wore when you had prepared to climb the steps of the parapet. again, he was challenging you, as if you needed to prove yourself to him.

it felt unfair.

why you, of all people?

your jaw clenched, annoyance bubbling up inside of you before you walked onto the mat. this was it. you were going to die. you were sure of it. from the very beginning, you could tell he hated you. the feeling was mutual, but you weren’t sure how far his hatred spanned.

maybe he simply thought you were weak, unfit to become a rider.

someone to pick on.

maybe your existence offended him. he could kill you now for whatever reason and nobody would care, because death was normal in the dragon-riding quadrant, no matter the circumstances.

as if he could hear your thoughts, his smile fell. “don’t worry. i don’t bite.”

if looks could kill, you would be dead already.

you fought the urge to scoff. before you could respond, he lunged at you. you ducked your head, a useless attempt at evading him. he grabbed your arm, twisting it behind your back before slamming you into the wall. you yelped in pain, feeling you shoulder twist in a way that was unnatural. “doing nothing gets you killed, cadet.”

you could feel his warm breath against the side of your temple as he spoke, pulling you back and spinning you around to kick at your legs. your knees buckled, sending you straight into the ground. your shoulder made an agonizing ‘pop’ sound, making you cry out. the pain traveled through your entire body, every nerve set ablaze. he dug his knee into your back, his hand pushing hard against your shoulder.

he was on top of you now, leaning forward to whisper into your ear, “you’re weak. it’s pathetic, really. you try too hard to control yourself. instead of doing something with that anger, you stand there—hesitating. waiting. like it’ll go away on its own,”

he forced his knee deeper into your spine, a pained moan escaping your lips, “you don’t deserve to be here. if you can’t even hurt the person you swear you hate the most, what can you do? who can you kill?” jungwon watched as a stray tear fell from your eyes, trickling onto the mat below you.

“crying won’t get you off this floor, cadet. are you going to fight back, or are you going to prove me right? prove to everyone watching right now that you don’t have what it takes to be a rider?” he leaned in closer, his hair tickling your cheek.

“prove that you’re better off dead?”

your body was screaming at you to surrender. you shoulder was throbbing, the sharp pain made you dizzy. deep down, you knew—he wasn’t completely wrong. you had tried, tirelessly, not to let your emotions take over and turn you into a monster. you did everything in your power to avoid becoming what you despired.

becoming someone like him.

he who didn’t hesitate. it didn’t matter that he was your leader. not once did his thoughts waver before hurting you. he probably wouldn’t think twice about killing you, either. it made you realize something.

it was how he’s survived.

jungwon, sunghoon, nyra, and especially heeseung and jongseong. they were third years. they were living, breathing proof that it was possible to make it that far alive, but that came with sacrifice.

their eyes were empty because they gave up something along the way.

their souls.

you knew deep down, they weren’t bad people. they were riders—fighting to survive. they didn’t choose to do it; they had to. born into this world and forced to live a life they never chose.

and if living meant losing a piece of yourself, they would do it again.

you kicked your leg up, wrapping it around his thigh before flipping the both of you over. the searing pain from your shoulder made you hiss, instinctively reaching to cradle it in your hand.

the box.

you forced the feeling down, as far as it would go before closing it completely. you had to tune it out.

jungwon stared at you, the same smirk returning to his face, “not much of a damsel in distress after all, are you?”

before you could think, you punched him. it was enough to make his head turn, cheek meeting the ground. almost instantly, he grabbed at your hips and pushed you off of him. you landed on your side, having rolled a few feet away from your original spot. he stood there, thumb wiping away at the blood on his mouth. his eyebrows quirked up, as if he was waiting for you to attack him again. you got up off the floor, biting the inside of your cheek to distract yourself from the pain of your (definitely) dislocated shoulder.

you charged at him, fist flying. jungwon dodged every hit, taking the opportunity to land a hard punch on your ribs. you folded over in pain, giving him an opening to pull you towards him. you gasped as your back met his chest, one arm tightly wrapped around your torso as the other leveled with your chin. the thin edge of his dagger pressed against your neck, hard enough to draw blood. you whined softly at the burning sensation, hands reaching up to grab at his arm. the last of your strength had left you, your knees fighting the urge to buckle again. if he wasn’t holding you up with his arms, you would have collapsed by now.

“see, better, but you’re still weak. your stamina needs improvement and so does your speed. your strength is there, but strength without strategy is useless. the next time we spar, i expect to never get you in this position again,” his voice was low. everything he was saying was meant for you and you alone. you hated how he was right—hated how he probably went easy on you because he had always known you were incapable of winning against him, or anyone.

‘the next time we spar,’ those words stuck with you. this wouldn’t be the last time you go up against him.

Gods, you were fucked.

"stop hesitating, y/n," his arms dropped to his sides, sheathing the dagger back into its rightful place. the minute his hold loosened on you, you stumbled forward.

your shoulder.

the pain came rushing back in, your opposite hand reaching up to keep it in place. hana rushed to your side, holding you up carefully as to not hurt you any further.

“nyra, take her outside. and you—” he pointed at hana, “let’s go. your partner is waiting.”

hana looked at you, worry evident in her gaze. you waved her off, assuring her that you’ll be okay. she swallowed dryly, pausing before giving you a nod. you watched as she headed onto the mat. you could only hope you would see her return to the barracks afterwards.

nyra stopped in front of you, her head tilting towards the door. “c’mon. off we go.” you followed after her, muscles relaxing in relief at the thought of her taking you to a healer. maybe jake—

“shirt, off.”

what?

you stared at her, dumbfounded. this was the second time someone had asked you to strip, and now you really didn’t know why it was necessary—

“remember what he said, cadet. no hesitation? this is a direct order. hurry on, take it off.” her hands moved animatedly as she rushed you to undress. with a sigh, you took off your top, careful not to strain your shoulder too much. she took it from your hands, folding it up slightly before holding it at your mouth. “okay, now bite.”

you knew exactly where this was going—and you fucking hated it. this was going to hurt.

bad.

you opened your mouth, teeth digging into the rolled up fabric. you wanted to ask her to prepare you, but your plea came out muffled. before you knew it, she had pushed you up against the wall. you felt her hand grab at your shoulder, rubbing it gently with her palm before—

*POP!*

your scream was silenced by the shirt in your mouth, eyes tightly shut. the pain was agonizing. there were spots in your vision, and the urge to faint was strong. after a few minutes, it slowly began to subside. it left behind a dull ache, but you were able to somewhat mobilize your shoulder again. “there. a little unprofessional, but the healers are busy right now. so you got me instead.”

you turned around, leaning against the wall as you ripped the shirt out of your mouth, “thanks, i guess.” the blood from your neck trailed down your sternum, seeping into the band of your bra. you stared at it in disgust, “can i at least a new shirt? and something for.. this?”

nyra bit her lip, holding back what you assumed was a laugh. with a raise of her eyebrows, she motioned you to follow her. the two of you walked in silence. luckily, all the cadets were too busy training to be wandering the hallways this early in the morning. she stopped in front of a large door, her hand waving in front of the lock before hearing it click open. it revealed a large room, decorated with vines and flora that dangled from the ceiling. in the center was a large bed, one that looked much more comfortable than the mattresses you had been assigned to in your barrack.

nyra walked over to her drawer, pulling it open before digging for something. she tossed you a plain black shirt, similar to the one you had worn. “i haven’t worn that thing since my first year. you can have it. it’ll probably fit you better, anyway,” her finger drew a little circle around her chest.

your cheeks lit up, quickly mumbling a ‘thank you’ before carefully slipping the top on. “come, sit. let me treat that nasty ass cut.”

you listened obediently, hands resting in your lap as she sat in between your legs. her fingers gently grabbed at your chin, lifting your head up to get better access to your neck.

“you know, jungwon wasn’t gonna kill you, right?”

you let out a scoff at that, “yeah, well, didn’t seem like it. look what he did to me.”

“he means well. plus, he’s right. you are weak,"

okay.

ouch.

at least, right now you are. i can tell you’re afraid—scared of what’s to come and who you might turn into,” you hissed when she pressed a damp cotton round on your wound. she ignored your pained protest, continuing to dress the wound as she spoke, “you’re here to become a rider. that comes with a price. you need to start thinking about what’s really important. i know we can’t decide that for you, but survival should always come first. friends—people in general—they come and they go. now, i’m not saying don’t build any relationships here, but loyalty is earned. it isn’t a given. you can't trust so easily,” you sat quietly, digesting her words.

“you know about the bonding process, right?”

you gently shook your head.

“once a dragon chooses to bond with you, your lives becomes one. if your dragon dies, so do you. if you die well, they survive, but they’ll be grieving for a very long time. some end up as recluses and refuse to bond ever again. others can turn vengeful. it gets ugly—being a rider. a bond doesn’t just mean you’re gifted with powers. it’s a soul tie. a real, serious connection. your bonded becomes your everything. you feel each other’s emotions, each other’s pain, all that shit. do you see now why you can’t afford to be weak? why you have to put yourself above all else? there's no room for error out there. you either live or you die. no second chances, no blessings from fate or Morvak to protect you,” she pauses, her fingers smoothly taping the thin bandage to your neck.

nyra stands, tossing the remaining trash into a bin. she peers down at you, offering a gentle smile, “i know you have it in you to make it to bonding. jungwon doesn’t though, so if you wanna get on his good side you’ll have to prove yourself. he takes the ‘squad leader’ role very seriously, if you couldn’t tell."

you roll your eyes at that.

“it’s quite clear.”

“i’m sure you’ve heard it already, but you were put in this section for a reason. ‘the most dangerous and unpredictable’ or whatever formal bullshit jungwon was spewing yesterday. that title also means we can be one of the most powerful, and he refuses to let anyone dampen that. it’s a little power hungry, but once you see what it’s like, being one of us, it’ll start to make sense.”

you stood up, too, smoothing out your shirt, “thank you, nyra.”

“don’t mention it. seriously. he’ll kill me if he knew i was kissing up to you,” you both chuckle at that.

“but, just know, if you need anything you can come to me. i won’t try to kill you—ironic after that whole speech i just gave you—but i promise. consider me an ally,” she held out her pinky finger, wiggling it at you. you stared at it for a second before holding up your own, interlocking it with hers. nyra smiles at the gesture before pulling her hand away.

“come, they’ve probably finished by now. i’m fucking starving,” you followed her out of her room, the two of you heading towards the dining hall. you were grateful for her kindness. you could tell, from her words alone, that she had experienced suffering before.

enough times to make her accept the sheer weight of the world that was in front of her, but you didn’t want to pry.

one day, you think, you’ll ask.

for now, you could only hope she was telling the truth when she said jungwon didn’t want you dead.

the dining hall was filled with people. some chattered amongst themselves while others ate quietly, shying away from everybody else. you grabbed a tray, turning to speak with nyra but she had already ran off. you watched her skip over to her friends, sliding into the spot between who you remembered to be jongseong and heeseung. you sighed, making your way towards an empty table. you sat in silence, picking at your food with your fork. you hadn’t eaten a meal in over a day, yet you had no appetite.

everything you had dealt with in the past twenty four hours had finally sank into place in your brain. in such a short time, you had seen, and come close to, so much death. you don’t know when you would become numb to the feeling, and a part of you hoped you never would. the feeling in your chest—it was another reminder that you were still alive. you pulled apart the roll of bread, popping a piece into your mouth. your thoughts were running wild with no way to silence them.

then, you heard a tray drop in front of you. glancing up, your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “oh my god, hana,”

she offered you a strained smile, wincing at the stretch of her lips. her cheek was a deep shade of purple and blue, swollen beyond comprehension, the wound on her forehead barely taped shut, and the cut on her lip had dried over with blood. “yeah, he got me pretty good..”

hana sat down across from you, arms folded over and resting on the table, “i’m happy to see you’re okay, though. sorry i couldn’t stay with you.. that jungwon guy. he seriously freaks me out. i really thought he was going to kill you, y’know?” you sighed.

you’ve been doing that a lot lately.

“yeah, i did too.”

“how are you feeling?”

you instinctively rolled your shoulder, “better. my ribs are definitely gonna be more bruised tomorrow and my shoulder fully came out of its socket, and i had a knife held to my neck, but i’m better. yeah.”

your eyes flicked over to nyra’s table. the blonde was sat across from her, wordlessly eating his food as his friends conversed with each other. you watched him, like you were trying to pick him apart piece by piece. why did he single you out like that? why does he hate you so much? you barely knew the guy, and yet, he has already become your sworn enemy.

the advice he gave you. it was supposed to help you, but it also hurt.

his words.

the fear that took over your body when he had that blade at your throat. at this point, you didn’t care about the ‘why’. he was a force to be reckoned with.

a monster.

nyra’s words were forgotten, and that same fiery hot hatred started to consume you once more.

you were sure of it, now.

you hated yang jungwon.

after your meal, you decided to head back to the training room. you had told hana you wanted to be alone for a bit—get in some extra practice. reluctantly, she agreed. you entered the room, gently shutting the door behind you. in reality, you didn’t know how you could possibly train with a messed up shoulder and limited movement of your mid section.

you just craved space, to turn off your mind and let the silence in. you had not a moment of peace since you arrived at the school, not that you ever anticipated it. it was a war college, after all.

the scent of sweat and blood lingered in the air. you stared at the mat—the one where jungwon had pinned you. the memory makes your muscles ache, the image of being held down replaying in your mind like a broken record. you thought about how you felt in that moment: helpless. if it had been someone else, if you had been in such a place out there in the real world, you don’t think you would have lived to see another day.

you kneeled on the floor, fingertips grazing the rubber-like surface. you had never trained to become a rider.

at least, not really.

your father was one and you resented him for it. his presence had been absent, the side of his bed was always cold. your mother had dealt with the worst of it all—her own husband, constantly on the brink of death while she sat alone at home with two kids, wondering if she would ever get to see him again.

what had hurt the most was not being able to say goodbye.

one day, the letters stopped coming. you had hoped, maybe, they had simply been lost in transit. maybe they forgot to pick it up, or accidentally mailed it to the house next door. when you had asked, you were met with pity.

no letter.

the last time you had seen him was two years before he disappeared, having been called north for an important flight mission. months had passed and eventually, you accepted that he may have died.

that was six years ago.

you were now twenty years old now. the grief had turned into anger. part of it was at him for becoming a rider, the other was at how you would never truly know. now, you were working your way towards becoming one yourself. the irony of it all made you cringe.

you felt it, though.

that feeling again.

hope—the last bits of it that sat heavily in between your rib cage.

if you succeed in becoming a rider, you could find out what happened. you could finally understand the reason for his disappearance and bring peace to your family. that hope was now dimming, the weight of everything making its way through the cracks.

a sudden noise pulled you back into reality. your head spun around, locking eyes with the person that just walked in. you felt a coldness spread within you.

it was her.

the girl from the stairs.

you quickly stood up, trying your hardest not to wince at the pain flaring up in your body. you couldn't show her you were hurt. she shut to door behind her, fingers moving to turn the lock. “so, you made it after all,” your throat ran dry, heart pounding violently in your chest. she took a step towards you, a wicked grin on her face.

“should’ve taken my advice, though,” her voice raised in pitch, the tone of it mocking. “throwing yourself off that bridge may have be more merciful than this.”

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kerryshifts · 2 months ago

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would you tap about regulus? i never see anyone talk about him and i’d like to know what he is like!

omg omg yes so, i have just this….idea (??) of him because i haven't shifted to my dr, but because i am a seer there i got some actual non scripted memories of him and us (apparently i can do this???) and like. brrrrrrrrrrr. ok.regulus. arcturus. black.

he is a pain in the ass. but only if you are not that smart. no wait…even then. he is the guy who would hate pretentious people but doesn't realize he is one of them. (maybe he does but he is not saying that out loud loooool). curious but not enough to be transgressive & always remembers things about people. he would notice a guy dropping a pen in class and him being too anxious to take it back, and remember it for the rest of his days. when your parents say to you 'no one is watching and no one cares about what you do' they are wrong, because regulus is watching. if you are thinking 'stop being anxious, no one cares!' you are wrong, he is secretly judging you. those cheekbones are that high for a reason. the more he is a evil little shit the more sculpted they become

dude stares. he grew up with a family who is not afraid to say their bitchy opinions, so i fear he inherited that. at least he says them with his face and not with his words…….and i think it's better?

he absolutely hates his second name but says to everyone else that he is proud to have it because he thinks his grandfather (same name) is some type of god. he doesn't like green that much. he says he hates my pink hair but he's sad when i make them of a natural colour. he loooves reading (& i plan on making him watch muggle movies. if he becomes a cinephile like his beautiful girlfriend aka me im going to love him even more) and absolutely hates his family members who try to ban books because of different ideals (he is very against censorship)

like every other person on the planet he is a quidditch fanatic and he's the slytherin seeker (ew!!!!!!!! seriously am i the only one who hates quidditch or??????? but it's ok i will root for him, except when he plays against my girl @lyraxnova sorry mate) and he, like his father, is very much into politics. he would be great at making propaganda now that im thinking about it……….mm

his sarcastic comeback would make me laugh if they weren't said towards ME. i like to think that i make funny jokes, and i also like to think that i am miss sarcasm. apparently he is the mr. but he is neat with it. he says it in a tone so serious that you start asking yourself if he is actually joking or not. and he doesn't break into a laugh…so you just keep worrying. sometimes a smile and sometimes a smirk. he takes his jokes seriously *insert clip of me rolling my eyes* (he is the perfect man for me)

very smart. very ambitious. typical slytherin. calculating and kisses the ass of the teacher in a sublime way. people just think that teachers love him because he is smart but i NOTICE those little smiles and nods he gives them. he is such a teacher's pet. he loves charms but says to everyone that his favourite subject his potions. (sirius knows he's lying but never brings that up)

HE LIKES THE COLOUR PURPLE I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYONE ELSE SAYSSSSS RAHHHHHHHH

he is very proud of his friends and would never change them for anything in the world. #bromance. cute.

he is so babygirl not the movie. likes a good debate. doesn't get mad easily but you can easily annoy him. he is so cute when he wants to be and sometimes i forget that he is (lowkey) an asshole. but he is a gentleman, in the most anthony-bridgerton-type-of-way. when i am going insane he is calm and when he is coward i am brave. heart heart heart heart.

he doesn't like flowers. which is okay because me neither. we bond over it because apparently everyone thinks it's romantic giving each other flowers. we think it's more romantic sharing a book and reading each other's notes. i think im also pretentious. but it's ok because he loves that 😌

when he is bored as hell he traces the lines on my palms with his fingers……..cute ngl………….gonna sob brb

his curls are always perfect like bro can you share your secrets with your brother because he looks like a dog (hah you got the joke right)

ok bye i’m getting embarrassed now

emotions closed

#ask #him: my darling disease.

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thewalrusespublicist · 8 months ago

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I’d love it if you could give your thoughts on john getting married a week after paul. do you think it was just a matter of outdoing paul and having ppl talk about his wedding instead or something entirely different. thx!

That moment John realises he's going to have to commit to the bit…

Nah I'm joking, but also a little bit not.

I mean the more you think about the question of why the hell John did that, the more complex it gets (and why it’s taken me so long to reply lol). Trying to boil it down to three essential points from least to most important though, I’d say it was the commitment to the ‘ballad of John and Yoko’ plotline, drug fuelled competition and then the fundamental reason underpinning it all which was the overwhelming fear of abandonment/‘thwarted love’ between John and Paul.

So let’s start of with the simple one - the ballad of John and Yoko. Part of John and Yoko’s entire brand was that they were the most in love couple in the history of love and that their love story was the symbol of progressive society and the activist movement in the late 60s. That type of brand and the undercurrent of superiority complex and fragile narcissism underpinning it can’t do with a competing love story pulling focus. Therefore, John and Yoko would have to quickly correct that by getting married as soon as possible to draw focus away from them.

Then there’s the competition. John and Paul were famously competitive with each other, but somewhere towards the late 60s, this starts to shift a lot more into the personal than it had before, probably partially due to heroin. In this landscape of drug use and high competitiveness, everything including personal happiness is a competition to win. This would be especially true when it came to dating women due to its ties to concepts of masculinity and Johns insecurity about Paul’s looks. In John’s mind, I think he partially believed Paul getting married was a strategic one-up move that John had to outdo.

But to me, the real root of the transition into personal competitiveness is actually what I believe this was all about this entire time: abandonment.

(Some of this will be similar to the breakup podcast series but I heavily agree with them so it can't be helped.)

Now competition is par the course for John's creative partnerships, but he does have a specific pattern when he feels his partners are becoming too independent. Whilst you need a lot of salt for Dakota Days, John Green/Charlie Swan does occassionally say some very insightful things which ring true, one being John's behaviour toward Yoko:

John did have a long-established pattern of early support followed by sudden withdrawal. What he required above all was Yoko's undivided attention. So long as her ideas kept her focused on him, he would support them. But as soon as she started off on her own, John would withdraw his energy, knowing that this would force her back to him.

It's not a 1-1 situation and other factors are at play with the John and Yoko dynamic but similar behaviour was present with Paul around Yesterday. Coming back to the late 60s, John was in a similar predicament. According to Pete Shotton, John was feeling isolated in 67' with George and Paul developing their own lives. Then came the engagement to Jane Asher and the arrival of Linda. It's quite notable to me that John remains so salty and annoyed about Linda and not in a 'god why did Linda pick him not me' but in a 'why did he pick Linda??' way. Add to Paul coming into his own musically to the point John has to 'swallow his jealousy' and you have a huge mess for John psychologically.

This is a view shared by many on here but the shift to personal is to me part one of the two pronged withdraw and burn strategy. Fearing that he was going to be abandoned, John withdrew emotionally from his dynamic with Paul and tried to individuate himself. As highlighted by later statements by both of them, their construction of their own identities did not allow for severance from each other. Having no option in his mind to separate from Paul and spurned on by his paranoia, his belief system morphed into a karmic yin-yang in which only one of them could be strong and successful.

The second part of the strategy (that still bleeds in with the first) is to burn and humiliate, in this instance to a new partner, and rip apart everything they had built. My big question with John is how much does he believe in what Yoko and he are doing? I think somewhat, but I'm not convinced that at least part of it is to smash apart the Beatles brand and everything he and Paul had built apart (the dead rat story especially made me really reevaluate some things). I'm not saying that John and Yoko weren't madly in love and that some of John and Yoko's own weirdness didnt factor into her being there all the time, but the constant 'Yoko has to be here, has to talk for me, 'I'd sacrifice all of you for her' feels partially performative and intentionally provocative (especially the last one, why say that when no one is really attacking them other than to make your friends feel like shit?). Paul reactive response in kind reflects that this strategy worked. It's crucial to remember that Paul brought Francie Schwartz into the studio first. This isn't about 'being too in love' to be apart, it's about getting back at each other and as Lina put it, ''playing these games' in escalating ways.

In this environment the marriage is the flipped table on the chessboard. Paul isn't playing and they can't take this back. He is now a married man whose first priority will be his wife and the children John knows he's always craved. Considering his responses to his imagined abandonment by Paul, there's no way John is jinxing his relationship with Yoko nor getting left alone at one altar as it were when there was another ready and waiting to go.

#abandonment issues and shotgun weddings #tale as old as time #john and paul #the ballad of John and Yoko #sorry im late to these ahhhh #submarine postbox #the beatles #anon #ask #ask me anything

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ryoshiwaah · 6 months ago

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chapter 15: mistletoe pt.2

a/n: lowkey short chapter bc I had to dig to find my motivation.

The day after, Y/n woke up to loud voices echoing in the house; being half-asleep, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, taking in her surroundings: next to her, where Minji was sleeping the night before, was a tidy bed.

The sight made the youngest groan in frustration, annoyed that her friend was probably having breakfast without her, and also dared to stop cuddling her. Unacceptable.

As she stared at the empty space for a little more, contemplating the way she could use the situation to make Minji feel guilty and receive more presents on Christmas’s day, from the corner of the eye, a glimpse of a note caught her attention.

On the pillow, there was a folded piece of paper that said “for Y/n”.

Curiosity and worry got the best of our stupid protagonist and she opened it, to her, it was either a suicide note or a lame joke that Minji thought once she woke up.

Opening it with trembling fingers, Y/n thought of the worst and her anxiety only flared up at the words slurred into the piece of paper.

“I’m sorry about last night, I shouldn’t have kissed you back. I’m sorry for writing this and for leaving you alone.”

The first paragraph was apology after apology, the ink blurred and made a mess because of the wet stains on the paper, signaling that Minji was crying while writing the letter. The doubt creeped into her mind that this was all a dream.

She had to be dreaming.

“Writing this feels like betraying you, Y/n, but the guilt of ending up becoming more… I can’t live with it. You don’t deserve it, the hate of the netizens if they find out, the looks on our parents' faces.”

A desperate, sarcastic giggle left her lips. The hopes of another Christmas together were shattering right in front of her. That couldn’t be their last Holidays together, it wasn’t possible. After almost a decade of being friends, Minji was letting everything go because of a kiss?

The promise of growing up and succeeding together, the secrets – Their entire lives.

Did all of that simply didn’t matter anymore to her?

“I know you’d be able to keep it up in front of the world, but I’m different. I’m not like you, I’m not strong nor patient, and if I can’t love you freely I’d rather not love you at all. My feelings will pass and yours will too. I’m sure of it, you’re easily bored after all.”

The piece of paper fell to the ground with calmness despite the weight of the words written on it. Y/n didn’t talk, her head felt light and dizzy, overwhelmed with dread, sadness, anger and fear.

Slowly, the loud voices began to have a meaning, becoming distinct sounds: Y/n could hear Minji’s mother yelling at someone, her own mother trying to reason with her, while a male voice, perhaps Minji’s brother, was gradually raising his voice.

Did they know what happened? Maybe Minji came back and they were lecturing her.

With trembling legs and a heart filled with delusion, Y/n almost tripped on her own Christmas shoes as she ran to the kitchen, flying on the steps of the stairs. It was clearly one of Minji’s pranks.

She never pranked her to be honest, but maybe the Holidays’ spirit made her let loose.

Minji wasn’t in the kitchen, or in the house, not even in town anymore. Y/n learned from the girl’s mother the truth behind the piece of paper: she had called a cab and went back to the dorms, claiming the company needed her as soon as possible.

They tried to make her come back but she was adamant, always justifying her actions with the same sentence – “The company needs me.”

Y/n lost hope once again, she spent her holidays locked in her room, barely getting out to eat. Minji did the same, training, eating, sleeping, repeat; her instructor checked on her from time to time, but she would always lock her door and shut off everyone.

previous | masterlist | next

#minji x reader #newjeans #minji newjeans #wlw #aespa #smau #newjeans smau #newjeans fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop smau #angsttttt #angst time #short chapter

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ebullientheart · 2 years ago

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roomies. spencer reid x reader

content — fem!bau!reader. injured!reader. fluff. anonymous request. brief injury description. reader uses conditioner. making out.

when you no longer need your live-in doctor, you find you desperately want him to stay.

you were absolutely fuming when the unsub shot you. just one, clean through the shoulder, that caused you to fall in a twist down the stairs, spraining your ankle. the chances of both of those events occurring had to be low, and spencer assured you of the statistics to back that theory up. just bad luck. fuming.

unfortunately, it also meant your life was substantially difficult to navigate while healing. you could barely shower, cook food, unlock doors, get changed. in fact it wasn’t ‘barely’, you just couldn’t. so the natural solution was to have your best friend move in with you while you were out of action entirely.

“it’s no big deal.” he shrugged. your best friend that you harboured secret feelings for, shrugged. no big deal.

there were some challenges.

“spencer,” you huffed for the tenth time that morning, “i am not swallowing those gross fish vitamins.”

he tutted at you, “they’re cod, and they’re going to help your sprain recover. valid studies have shown-”

awkwardly, you stood and used your uninjured arm to jab him in the chest, “i don’t care if they would grow me a whole new bone, they’re gross.”

it was weeks like that, when he wasn’t on cases. harmless bickering as he fussed over you like a newborn. but despite your teasing, you were not looking forward to the day he’d be moving back into his own apartment. it was nice, having someone to come home to. it took the sting out of the loneliness you felt, and you weren’t delusional for thinking he felt that way too. as your casts and slings were eased off, the both of you looked rather dejected, confusing the nurse tending to you greatly.

spencer nudged your good shoulder, “now you can help me box up my things.”

you’d gotten used to his things, though. his aftershave in the bathroom, his chess set by the couch. even his supposedly mobile library he’d moved into your apartment. you knew how empty it was going to feel.

in fear of that emptiness, you blurted it out on the car ride home from the hospital, “maybe you should stay a bit longer.”

“yeah?” he briefly took his eyes off the road to raise a brow at you, “you think you still need help?”

“i don’t need it.” you mumbled, picking the skin around your cuticles nervously. spencer noticed, and flicked your hands apart as a silent way of telling you not to do that. still taking care of you.

he didn’t push your declaration, just nodding, “okay. how long were you thinking?”

somewhere between a bated breath and a rush of words, you pushed out, “like, forever?”

this time, both his brows jumped and he had to clear his throat to stop his voice from cracking, “really? like roommates?”

no, like lovers, “yes, like roomies. nevermind, it was a stupid idea.”

“i don’t think so. i’d love to be… roomies.” the word sounded strange, too informal, coming from him, and it made you laugh. which made him smile.

after that very spencer-esque conversation, he moved the rest of his material belongings in, and put his flat up on listings. it sold fast, and you had to wonder why he’d agreed so rapidly, considering his place was notably nicer than yours. you had to wonder why he agreed at all, though it didn’t come as a surprise to anyone else that you hadn’t been able to separate. and the rest unfolded like one of the rom-coms you forced him to watch.

you no longer needed him to wash your hair over the side of the bath, which had at first been annoying because he did not wash the conditioner out properly. but now you missed it; it had become almost a bonding experience. that became true of a lot of things you’d adjusted to in the past months. him helping you into bed, you playing the wounded card to make him watch your shows on tv.

one thing that hadn’t changed was the sheer amount of card games you two played. you knew spencer was always going to win, but you tortured yourself with it anyway. one night, you were splitting the deck as you announced, “i’ve got a new game. it’s called rummy version two.”

before he could explain all the deviations rummy had from its origin over the years, making your game not a second version but at least an eighth, you rushed on to outline the rules. you were completely making it up as you went along, and continued adding to it as you played. it was impossible for you to lose, and spencer quickly figured out that you were bullshitting. for a profiler, you had a terrible poker face.

“you’re making this up.” he stated, putting his cards down.

you leant over the table, now able to rest pressure on your arm, and challenged, “prove it.”

there was a thick tension that had arisen suddenly between the pair of you, though the more you thought, the less sudden it seemed. maybe it had been building for a while. like the blush steadily rising to his cheeks as you got slightly closer to his face.

he smirked, “you’re winning.”

“rude. that doesn’t mean i’m-”

what it didn’t mean, spencer never got to hear, because it was at that moment he surged forward to close the remaining distance between your lips. you almost fell when you two collided, but his grip had attached to your upper arm to steady you. his kiss did not relent, demanding and speaking of all the impatience he’d felt recently. you responded likewise, threading your hands into his curls as soon as you got your balance, barely breaking for breath.

spencer’s skin on yours was something you had thought about more than you cared to admit, and with the fervour he was kissing you with, you thought he might’ve experienced the same. he was almost desperate against you, hands trailing to smooth over any section of exposure he could find, before one rested on the side of your face, and the other on your thigh.

“spencer,” you gasped, pulling away to catch air in your lungs, “need to breathe.”

he nodded as though he’d forgotten that, mimicking your heavy breaths, but not taking his hands off you. you rested your forehead against his and blinked. it was starting to sink in, the line you’d just crossed together.

“do we have to tell hotch about this?” you suddenly asked.

spencer frowned, “why are you thinking about hotch right now?”

you laughed and kissed him again, quickly this time, “you’re right, let’s just…”

“yeah.”

thank god he agreed to be roomies.

#🤍ebullientheart #spencer reid #criminal minds #bau!reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x injured!reader #injured!reader #fem!reader #spencer reid hurt/comfort #humour #fluff #spencer reid x bau!reader #tw injury

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liberalk1tsch · 9 months ago

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💖 rough kiss / hot and heavy / making out for my favorite horny everlark writer

it’s the way i had to rein myself in and force myself to stop writing so as to not publish blatant porn on my blog💀 my reputation precedes me

hope this is degenerate enough for ya

from this ask game ! 💖

context: nights on the train, katniss finally getting the second kiss that she wanted in the arena, except there’s nobody to stop them (genuinely nobody this time; i will never forgive suzanne for finnick interrupting the beach scene), aka what could’ve happened if katniss’ unreliable narration wasn’t so unreliable

“Well that was —”

“— awful,” I say, flopping down on one of the myriad of plush velvet sofas in the open air train car.

Peeta takes off his suit jacket and tosses it over the back of a chair before joining me on the couch. “Yeah.” He sighs and leans back, running a hand through his hair. “You okay? You were getting a bit shaky back there.”

I hug my knees to my chest in the hope of finding some semblance of comfort. “As okay as I can be, I guess,” I say sullenly.

He opens his arms in silent invitation and I scramble to his side of the sofa, nestling into his chest. We immediately assume the position that is quickly becoming a habitual embrace for us, his hands finding their homes on my waist and around my shoulder as I huddle against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

I relax into his touch, inhaling what feels like the first full breath of air I’d taken since this morning, breathing in him. It’s strange, I think, how the person who incites the most uncertainty in my life has somehow become the only one who I truly take comfort in. It’s only ever temporary, of course, but it’s my only source of refuge on this nightmare of a trip. My only source of refuge anywhere, if I’m being totally honest with myself.

I look up at him, only to find those midnight blue eyes already staring at me. For some reason, I blush. “What?”

“I’m just . . .” he trails off, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Really glad we have each other through everything.”

“Me too,” I say, my voice small. “I don’t know how I’d ever get through this without you.”

He smiles. “It does help,” he says, “having you here to distract me a bit.”

“You find me distracting?” I ask teasingly.

Peeta glances away bashfully. “You know how I feel about you.”

I push myself up slightly, placing my hand on the center of his chest, just over his heart. “You’re not too bad of a distraction yourself.”

“Are you saying you find me distracting?”

Now it’s my turn to look away. “Maybe,” I say, not quite able to meet his eyes. I’m suddenly very focused on tracing whorling patterns on his chest.

I can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “What about me is so distracting for you?”

I stay silent.

“I thought we were friends, Katniss. I thought we were supposed to be honest with each other from here on out,” he chides with a playful smile. “At least tell me what you’re thinking.”

I bite my lip and steel myself to meet his gaze. He’s right. I did promise to be truthful with him. But I fear the truth will only make whatever this is between us even more confusing. “I’m thinking about the fact that we’ve never kissed without being in front of a camera. And I’m wondering if it’s different, if we’re different.”

Peeta has the nerve to look surprised. Maybe a little amazed too. “Oh? And what would you do — y’know, hypothetically — if you were to act on those thoughts?” he asks.

He’s doing that thing he does. Reminding me that it’s my choice. That every single thing we do without an audience is entirely up to me, that he’ll respect my wishes no matter what he feels for me. He’ll indulge my flirtations, but won’t ever push us further than that, especially not physically. That’s all on me.

It’s so annoying.

I narrow my eyes at him, shifting myself up so that I’m fully sitting in his lap now. My legs are sprawled across the couch, my dress riding up around my thighs. Keeping one hand on his chest, I slide the other slowly up to his face as I feel his heart race. My fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, flutter over his cheek and faded freckles. The growing flush developing there. Until I come to his lips.

I’d never really thought about it too much, but they really are lovely. Perfectly round. Unbelievably soft.

Peeta’s favorite color deriving from the sunset makes sense, I think. His eyes are the divine, dark blue of the night sky closing in. His hair the final golden rays of a sleepy sun. His lips are the precise shade of bright pink that stains the horizon and makes onlookers stop to watch in awe. He doesn’t just like sunsets, he is the sunset.

“Maybe something like this,” I say, leaning in slowly and pressing my lips gently against his. The kiss is soft, trepidatious. A question of sorts, a tentative invitation.

I pull away slightly, my lips hovering just out of reach.

“So,” he says breathlessly, “any different?”

“Incredibly,” I whisper. I hesitate a moment. “I don’t want to stop.”

“Then don’t.” He stares at me intensely under lowered lashes.

Every thought, every fear goes out of my head in an instant when I kiss him, and this time he’s ready. He tangles a hand in my hair, sliding the other to my lower back and pulling me firmly against him, causing me to make a noise of surprise against his mouth. Everything between us had always been relatively tame, nothing we wouldn’t be okay with our families — let alone the entire country — seeing. But this, this is different. This is us without a camera or anyone to witness us, and we are fervent and heated and borderline feral in our desire for each other.

That hunger I’d once felt in the cave was nothing, no more than a light pang; I didn’t realize until now how utterly starved I’ve been for his kisses. Not gentle pecks nor a delicate caress, but impassioned and insistent kisses — the kind that spark up that warm feeling in my chest that quickly pools in my core and spreads through my whole body. The way that only Peeta can make me feel.

I twist around to straddle him without ever breaking our lips apart, reveling in the taste of him and the way our lips mold together perfectly. His kisses are ravenous and demanding, his hands equally assertive as they roam my body, holding me tightly against him, ensuring there is no space between us.

I probably shouldn’t be doing this. It’ll only make our already complicated relationship more ambiguous. But I don’t care. All I can think about is the feeling of his lips, his tongue, his hands, his hips and how I want more.

#i need to touch grass #ask game #the hunger games #everlark #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark drabble

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dsireland86 · 2 months ago

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can you write something where you’ve always wanted to have a early 2000’s boy band( BSB, NSYNC, O-Town, No Authority etc.) themed party (we’re talking icy blue eye shadow, butterfly clips and makeup three shades too dark for our skin, no blending) so Matt decides to surprise you with this surprise party for your birthday. He has a hard time keeping everything under wraps bc he gets all of your friends to fly in and some of the other bands you’ve met ( invent animate, MIW, ERRA) and become friends with and you’re getting suspicious. everyone has to dress up in early 2000’s gear, listen to a DJ play boy bands all night and dance. . . I’d also love if you got Matt to slow dance to a classic boy band ballad and all the guys start giving him shit bc Matt “doesn’t dance” 😂

Please and thank you. I love metal but I’m a middle millennial who will always be a tween boyband lover at heart.

OMG when I got this ask in my box, I seriously geeked out! I love this idea. A tween boyband lover is the perfect way to describe this too! Thank you for sending this, Anon! You don't know how satisfying it was to write this ❤️❤️

Tag list:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly @potterheadquinn @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @montgomery-929494 @missduffsblog @lilcazy011 @Lonelydragonlady @Mattysbitchvic @athenexe @pipidoll @flowery-mess

"Dude, these things are ancient. Where did you find them?" "On Ebay. The lady I got them from had a massive stockpile of them. I think she was a collector because she had a ton of them. All music related and from different eras and times. It was pretty cool.”

Matt took out another stack of magazines and laid them on the table.

"Bop. BB. Teen Beat... oh my god I remember my sister having these all over her room," Nicholas said ecstatically. "She was ridiculously obsessed with these bands." "Tiger Beat? Seriously? Who the hell came up with these names?" Noah was already annoyed with Matt's idea and he didn't even know the full details. "Who the fuck knows, man. All I know is that Y/N was a teen girl millennium who was stuck in a boyband phase." "Boy band?" Jolly looked up from reading one of the magazines, raising an eyebrow at Matt. "Yeah, that's what they called these, uh, things; groups. They were a bunch of super young kids, mostly, who got together and were formed into one." "What, like One Direction?" Folio stated.

Everyone turned and looked at him with confusion.

"How would you know about One Direction?" Jolly asked, shaking his head.

Folio shrugged his shoulders.

"I might be a lot younger than all of you, but I'm not stupid, Jolly. I pay attention to a lot of stuff." "Sure you do," Jolly replied sarcastically. Folio just rolled his eyes. "Dammit, she's coming over! Hide it, hide it," Matt panicked. Jolly quickly tossed the old magazine's back in the bag and Nick threw it under the table just in time. "Hey guys, watcha doing?" Y/N asked, smiling as she gave Matt a small kiss and hug. He held onto her a little more than he should have, burying his face in her neck and inhaling the scent of her body. "Oh my god, you smell absolutely delicious! I could eat up every single bit of you," he teased, bending her back and pretending to bite her neck.

Y/N squealed with laughter, begging Matt not to drop her.

"I got you, baby. Don't worry," he assured her, bringing her back up to her feet. She pushed his hat back some and locked her lips to his, tasting the recent Celsius on his tongue. "Get a fucking room you two," came a voice from somewhere behind them.

Matt locked up and grinned.

"Chris! Holy shit! You're here!" "Hey, hey Dierkes, how's it going!" Chris rang, walking up to Matt and catching him in a hand slap. They hugged briefly. "It's going," Matt answered, nodding his head. "Just been hanging out, working on stuff." "Good, good. Y/N, nice to see you again," Chris said sweetly, looking down at Y/N. "Yeah, you too, Chris!" she replied, returning his brief hug. "What brings you to this part of Cali? Is it just you or are the others with you too?"

Matt's eyes widened behind Y/N. He shook his head slowly to indicate to Chris to not spill it.

"Nope, just me," Chris replied. "Working on some Motionless stuff alone. It's just for a few days then I'm heading back." "Cool, well it was good to see you again. Matt, baby, I'm heading home and taking Folio and Noah with me. See you there?" "Yup, heading that way soon."

She gave Matt a quick kiss good- bye, bouncing off quickly when Folio and Noah found her and eagerly walked her to the car. Noah looked back giving Matt a thumbs up.

"Fuck, man, that was close," Chris laughed. "Yeah, no shit," Matt sighed, agreeing. "You think she suspected anything?"

Matt chuckled.

"God, I fucking hope not. It's bad enough I have to go through Boyband Hell trying to put all of this together for her. But if she finds out before it's finished, before her birthday in three days... then dude, I'm seriously fucked."

"Eeekkk, Jesse!"

Y/N went running like a bolt of lightning towards one of her closest friends. Jesse held his arms out, collecting her the moment she collided into him.

"There she is! Man, I've missed you!" Jesse sighed. "Right back at you! You take too long to text back. What's up with that?” she asked, hitting him in the shoulder. Jesse grinned bashfully at Y/N. “He's always has his nose in a book, that's what's up,” J.T chuckled.

Matt quietly watched the heartwarming exchange between close friends. Seeing Y/N as happy as she was made his heart flutter with his own happiness, because her happiness meant everything to him. Distracted, he turned back to the mission at hand, arranging the final plans for Y/N's birthday in two days which consisted of a few of her friends from back home flying to make the surprise birthday party even more memorable.

Even though he hated the cringe worthy pop music and the weird looking guys and the way they dressed, nothing made his soul sing or his heart happier than watching his girlfriend belt out lyrics to cheesy boy band songs about love, relationships, and over the top expectations between two people. Sometimes, he wondered how the hell she fell for a guy like him. He was the complete opposite of what all her favorite songs were all about.

"Hey, you alright?" Noah asked, patting Matt on the back, breaking him out of his mental moment. "Uh, yeah, I was just thinking, that's all," Matt replied, trying not to sound like he might be on the verge of crying. "About all the crap that's left to do?" Noah laughed softly.

Matt smiled. "No, just, uh -" but Matt stopped, looking over at Y/N the moment JT scooped her up and bear hug, shaking her until she was a giggling mess.

"How the hell did I get so fucking lucky to get a girl like her?" Matt sighed, pointing over at Y/N then letting his arm fall to his side. "I mean, she's so out of my league, Noah. She's sweet, she's kind, she's such a damn, hopeless romantic that believes in all the cute romance crap that I've never nor ever will give her. I mean, look at her, man! She's perfect."

Y/N looked over at Matt, smiling like the sun on a hot summer day.

"Matt, look at what you're doing for her! You don't think this is good enough? You don't think she's going to appreciate and be grateful for all that you're doing here? Dude, this is why she loves you. When you set out to prove your love and devotion to someone or something, you dive in head first and make no excuses or exceptions. It's all or nothing at all."

Matt's brow furrowed. "I think that's the name of one of those boyband songs she likes; All or Nothing At All."

His fingers typed quickly on his phone as Noah sighed in annoyance.

"Yeah, here it is," as the opening piano began to play. "Hey! Are you listening to O-town, Matt Dierkes?" she called out in a sardonic tone. "I'm just," he looked over at Noah, who just shrugged. Matt huffed, rolling his eyes. "Fuck! No! Yes... maybe..." his tone fell once Y/N was standing in front of him.

Moving closer, she slipped her hands into his back pockets, pulling towards her as he leaned in to kiss her. She managed to slip her tongue inside his mouth, meeting his and rolling it over, causing Matt to release a slow, frustrated groan.

"Dance with me," she said, trying to move his body side to side. "I don't dance," he mumbled against her lips, sliding his free hand behind her neck and moving his lips down the side of her neck. "Well, that's a shame because I could show you some moves that could make you feel amazing," she teased, slowly grinding against him hard enough that she was able to feel his excitement pressed against her belly. Matt took a slight breath in, feeling the effect from her a little too well. Pecking his lips, Y/N quickly backed off and began walking back towards Jesse and JT. "You're such a damn tease!" Matt yelled after her. "Well then, next time, dance with me, and maybe I won't be," she sassed back while looking over her shoulder at him. Matt just smiled, shook his head, and went back to finishing his last-minute tasks.

"Come on, Y/N, just one ride! I promise I won't go super fast," Folio begged. "No! I can't..." "Why not? Folio's a great driver. He'll keep you safe," Jolly said, assuring her. "Come on, darling. One birthday ride. Let me take you, please?"

The face Folio was giving Y/N weakened every single defense she had.

"Fine," she mumbled in defeat. "But I swear to God, if you do anything, and I mean anything that scares me, you're a dead man." "You're insane. I would never do such a thing," Folio said defensively, flashing her a mischievous grin as he pulled her down the stoop and into the garage. "Ugh, man, I'm really going to regret this! Noah!" she called out to her friend. "Save me, please." Her voice was muffled by the helmet Folio slipped over her head. "Nope. You're on your own this time, princess. You two have fun!" he waved, closing the door. "You're so heartless," Nick chuckled. Noah just shrugged, seeming pleased with himself that he was able to get Y/N out of the house while they began setting everything up for the surprise party. Nick was holding a bottle of water for himself and a Dr. Pepper for Matt as he and Noah walked into the living room.

"Alright, we've got two hours, max," Matt chimed, clapping his hands together. "Folio's taking Y/N on one of his longer than necessary nighttime ride adventures and promised me at least that much time, so let's go!"

Time came and went quickly for them as they seemed to lose themselves in the nostalgia of the moment. The boy bands that softly played in the background had some of them singing along while the others just groaned.

"I'm getting a serious toothache from this music. I don't think I'm going to survive the party, Matt," Noah grumbled. "Quite being a little bitch about, Noah. It's just a bunch of young kids, well, were a bunch of young kids," Nicholas corrected himself, with a smile. "Why's it under your skin so much?" "I don't know. Maybe because it's not realistic. It sets the bar too high for guys."

Nick simply stared at Noah, at a loss for words.

"Sometimes, I don’t know who's worse; you or Jesse." "Knock, knock. What about Jesse?"

Jesse and the guys walked into the living room, followed by Chris, who came over to lend a hand. After a bit more talking, they all got busy working and making the vision that Matt had come to life.

With roughly fifteen minutes to spare before Folio returned with his girl, Matt ran upstairs to get ready while the others finished setting up the food and other miscellaneous stuff.

"Why can't we go through the front door? Nick!"

Y/N giggled at the slight shove in the back Folio gave her. Closing the back gate behind him and locking it, he followed her, through the yard to the back door.

"I'm not going a step further until you tell me what is going on. You're acting really weird."

Folio shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, grinning like Cheshire cat.

"Nick, you're hiding something! I know that smile."

"I'm not," he chuckled, lowering his head and hiding behind his Harley cap. "You're just being ridiculous. What could I be hiding from you?"

He looked through the window behind her and noticed Jolly and Nick, giving him mixed signals, making him scowl. Y/N went to turn around, but caught her just in time.

"Oh, god, don't turn around! Nick and some girl are about to do the dirty in the kitchen!" "What? What are you talking about?" she cried, trying to look and see what Folio was talking about, but he grabbed her by the arm too quickly for her to catch a glimpse. "Nothing. Let's just get inside and give them alone time," yanking her through the back door and up the stairs, while making as much noise as he could. "You're insane, Nick Folio," Y/N barked once at the top. "I know," he shrugged. "Did you at least like the ride? It wasn't so bad, was it?"

Y/N shook her head and gave him a soft smile.

"No, it was really fun, actually." "Yeah, that's my girl! So, we'll do it again?" "Sure. I'd like that." "Yes!" Folio hissed excitedly. "Alright, I'm showering." He looked at his phone. "Meet me back out here in twenty minutes." "What? Why?" "Just do it! Oh, and Matt left you something on your bed. He said to read the note first."

Y/N lingered in the hallway for a moment, trying to wrap her head around everything that had just happened before heading to the room she and Matt shared. Just like Folio said, there was a bag on the bed with a card on top. She picked up the envelope and read.

"I know what you're thinking, so stop. Don't ask yourself any more questions, just open the bag, change into what's in it, and meet Folio in the hallway like he said. I'll see you in a few. -Matt- Oh! And Happy Birthday, Beautiful!"

Y/N smiled. her heart slowly starting to race. It didn't surprise her that Matt had something planned for her birthday, but the secrecy was what was weird. But listening to Matt's order, she stopped thinking about it and opened the bag, throwing her hand over her mouth and gasping as she did so.

"Wow! You looking fucking hot as hell!" Folio exclaimed the moment he saw Y/N. "Matt picked that shit out! Goddang! Dude's got taste."

Y/N laughed and she could feel her cheeks heating up.

"It's just clothes, Nick." "Maybe, but it's what's under the clothes and how they're fitting on your body that's doing it for me," he confessed, running his eyes up and down her frame. "Nick Folio, are you flirting with me?" "Yeah, I am, so cooperate, please," he sarcastically replied, nudging her shoulders. She just rolled her eyes, chuckling at Nick's playfulness

Y/N was wearing a pair of low rise skinny jeans that showed the shape of her bottom perfectly, a white crop halter top that displayed the beautiful V-shaped of her neck and chest area and the small belly button ring she had, and pink platform sandals. Bracelets and toe rings graced her feet and ankles while small different color butterfly clips sat in her auburn hair that was neatly semi-braided and pulled back. Her makeup consisted of blue sparkle eyeshadow and light black eyeliner, with a soft glittery tone covering the rest of her skin.

"Matt's jaw is going to hit the damn floor when he sees you." "Speaking of Matt, I wish I knew where he was. I texted him, but he hasn't responded."

As they walked down the stairs, Folio was glad that the living room and kitchen were out of view from where they were. The house was dead quiet and not a lot of light shone through the blinded up windows. Her phone vibrated with a text from Matt.

"Close your eyes."

Y/N looked up and around.

"What's wrong?" Folio asked, fighting the urge to smile.

She shook her head and frowned.

"Matt. He's playing one of his games.

"Are you stalking me and being a creep Matt Dierkes? Where are you? It's my birthday and you should be here with me. Folio and I are back. I found your note and did what you told me to, but you're not here to see it!"

"You seem angry," Folio stated as he watched her aggressively type.

Y/N glared at him. He grinned and raised an eyebrow, that familiar impish glint in eyes.

"Oh, I see it, baby, don't you worry about that. Now, do what I said and close your eyes."

"Then what? Do I just stand here?"

"Go to the living room."

"What's wrong?" "Should I be worried that my boyfriend is playing creepy stalker at the moment?" looking over at Folio quizzically. "I'd be more worried about him losing his shit and going raging bull in a China shop crazy because you're not doing what he wants.” "Fair point," she agreed, chuckling. "He wants me to close my eyes. I don't want to die before thirty, so would you guide me?" "Sure thing, sweetheart. Where are we going?" "The living room."

Folio took Y/N's hand and carefully led her there, stopping shortly. He let go of her hand, quietly stepping away as Matt moved in close.

"Nick, where did you go!"

Warm, moist lips landed on hers, pulling her into a captivating kiss.

"Don't open your eyes until I say so," Matt whispered into her ear.

Hands slipped around her waist, gliding against her skin like silk and gently yanking her into the body they belonged to. She was very familiar with that touch and would know it anywhere. Wrapping her hands around his neck, Y/N laid her body against Matt's, leaning into his kiss that deepened with every touch.

"God, you look so fucking good right now, all I want to do is pick you up and take you to our bedroom, where I can rip off these close an ravage your body." "Then do it. I won't complain," she grinned. "I know you wouldn't, beautiful. You'd let me do whatever I wanted to you," Matt exhaled, kissing her forehead. "Come with me," he whispered, leading her further into the living room. "Are you ready?" "Mmm-hmm, I think so," she said, squealing in excitement from the anticipation.

It was quiet again. Y/N was tired of keeping her eyes closed. She huffed, shifted her weight with her hands on her hips and was about to open her mouth when...

"SURPRIZE!!!!!!!!"

Her eyes flew open at the sudden sound, as the lights came on and as she looked around, she cupped her hands around her mouth, fighting back the tears. It was like she had stepped back into 2000 again. Posters of the bands she liked so much graced the living room walls. There was a hanging cd backdrop for pictures, confetti and multicolor balloons inflated all over the floor and on strands of ribbon, silver disco balls hanging from the ceiling, and a huge banner that hung in the archway between the kitchen and living room that said "Happy Birthday".

The shouts, cheers, and whistles of her friends filled the room. Y/N looked around at the faces of the people she'd know as a teenager and the ones she'd come to know through the years. Jesse and the boys hugged her tight, giving her cheek and forehead kisses. Chris did as well, smiling softly when wiping the single tear that slid down her cheek. Brody and Marcus from Invent (who she was not expecting to see again since touring with the guys the year before) found their way over to her, offering hugs and happy birthday wishes. Everyone was there just for her and it was the best feeling ever.

"I don't understand," she cried, utterly surprised. "About what," Matt asked, cupping her face to kiss her. "How did, who-"

"I did. Well, the guys helped... a lot," he confessed, huffing a light laugh. "I've been planning this the past month, trying to keep it a secret from you, and let me tell you, that was hard as shit. You are so damn nosy about stuff."

Y/N laughed, agreeing.

"You need to come see the cake," taking her hand and leading her into the kitchen.

It was incredible and very vintage, having everything on it from images of MTV, TRL and Bratz to a Motorola flip phone and cd's. Edible Butterfly clips and "I love 2000's" stickers decked out the bottom overtop light pink, blue and white icing.

"Matt, this is just too much, baby!" she cried turning to him. Touching his face, she reached up and placed her lips on his quickly, already wanting so much more of him than she was allowed to have. "Nothing is ever too much for you, beautiful. I'd rip the damn sun out of the sky if you asked me to, that's how much I love you."

Y/N fought the urge to cry. "I love you too, Matt," she whispered, laying her head against his chest.

"Dude, is there a song she doesn't know?" Noah sighed, watching Y/N mingle with the guest. "Will you quit with the music, bro," Jolly groaned. "I just don't get how people like this!" "Noah, do you realize that half the fucking world probably says the same thing about our music," Folio stated, tossing his empty water bottle in the trash.

Noah's face fell, his expression deadpanned.

"Fuck. Fair point, okay, I'll stop," he promised. "Finally, god!" Nick said in relief.

Noah smiled and they all broke out in a good laugh.

Y/N searched for Matt as one of her absolute favorite songs came on. The familiar slow guitar sound blaring from the speaker had her reminiscing as she looked around for her other half, hoping to find him soon in the sea of people and when she did, their eyes locked, and the look Matt was giving her made her blush. He smiled, and made his way over to her.

"Happy birthday." "Thank you," she sighed, falling into his arms. "I need you to come dance with me." "Nope. I don't dance." "Matt, please!" "No way, especially with all these people here." "Matt," she pleaded, giving him her best sad puppy-dog eyes.

Matt exhaled, grumbling in frustration but agreed.

She took his warm hand in hers and led him to the middle of the floor, placing her hand on his heart. His body froze for a moment but then his hand slipped around her waist and drew her in closer to him.

"Like this?" he asked unsure. "Yeah, like that,” she answered gently.

Matt released the breath she didn't know he was holding and rested his chin against her head as they began to slowly sway, caught up in the moment of just them and the song.

"What is the name of this song?" "This I Promise You" "Who's it by?" "Nsync."

Matt hummed. He turned his head down, snuggling his face closer to hers.

"I like it. I can relate to it," he confessed, moving her a little faster now as the feeling of slow dancing began to stick.

"You can?" Y/N swallowed hard, her heart racing fast. "To every word."

She looked up at him, smiling at the man in her arms.

"Have I ever told you how much I love looking at you?"

Matt shook his head. "You never have to say it. I already know."

The tears Y/N had been fighting finally fell, leaving stained trails down her cheeks.

"I love you, Matty."

He smiled softly, kissing her forehead before she laid her head against his chest.

"I love you, too, beautiful."

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