#And you will return the favor to him as an act of gratitude | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purple-babygirl · 6 months

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don't call me daddy IV

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 5,540

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: crying, a flu, coughing, shots, age regression

A/N: forgive me for the lateness with this one. i was very sick, like bed-ridden sick, and when i got a little better i got to writing right away. please be kind to me with this one, i'm still high on meds:" please enjoy xx💜💜

“Call me daddy.”

“What?” She was suddenly pulling away as if Bucky was made up of scorching metal.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” He asked with a small smile, wiping any residue tears on his face.

What she wanted… he was only suggesting that she called him daddy because he thought it was what she wanted? Was this his way of returning the favor because she hugged him after a nightmare?

Now she was really hurt.

Bucky was unknowingly emphasizing the fact that he didn’t want this type of relationship, didn’t want her. He was only doing it to show gratitude.

“No.” She shook her head, getting up from the floor.

“No?” Bucky was genuinely confused as he followed her with his eyes.

He thought he was finally making things right, giving her what she wanted.

“I wanna go back.”

“What?!”

“I wanna go back, please take me back.” Her voice wasn’t even sad or frantic, only small and disheartened.

“Back where?! The couch is right there if you wanna go!” Bucky became angry again.

He felt rejected and he felt small. Was it his touch that made her pull back? Was it the daddy thing? Was he so repulsive?

“No, back, out of here.”

“Back where?! It’s the middle of the night!” Bucky raised his voice in frustration, the nightmare nerves barely out of his body.

Has she lost her mind? Why was she acting like this now? What was he supposed to do to please her and her little mind?

“Take me back to Mrs. Morrison,” she insisted calmly as she collected her slippers and stashed them back in her bag.

He looked at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, not getting what happened or where he went wrong.

She wasn’t even tearing up, it was like a switch has flipped inside of her.

“Just— just talk to me, okay? What happened?” Bucky fervently needed her to stop, needed to understand.

“Bucky was right. This isn’t gonna work. Please just take me back.”

Her words reopened Bucky’s wounds that her sweet gestures had once closed. What did she mean “isn’t gonna work”? Was he just deemed irredeemable? Again?

“But why?!”

“I just wanna go back.” Was all she gave him; no explanation and no reasons.

Bucky wouldn’t understand.

“You know what? Fine! I’ll take you back first thing in the morning. Go back to the fucking couch, stay away from me!”

She silently got the wolf stuffie, leaving it on the kitchen counter, and went back, no crying and no trials to correct him on his choice of bad words.

Did she really want to leave? Was she really going to leave him come morning?

When it was lit up enough, Bucky went for a run, trying to blow off some steam because he felt like he was about to explode.

Why did he let her in? He shouldn’t have done that. She didn’t deserve to get this close, no one did.

Did he seriously think he was accepted and understood by this stranger after 7 days of time together?

No matter what the purpose she was serving was, she could never understand how hard Bucky had had it.

Still, something kept pulling him to her. Something inside of him didn’t want her to leave him. Not now that he was used to her; that he wanted to be used to her.

It's been only a week and Bucky was ready to give human relationships another chance. She made him feel like healing wasn’t a faraway dream.

He was going to try and talk to her one last time and if she still wanted to leave, he would gladly let her.

When he opened his door, she was dressed and waiting for Bucky on the couch, ready to go.

“So you were serious about leaving?” Bucky asks as he kicks his shoes off.

“Yes. Bucky is gonna take me back, right?”

“If that’s really what you want?”

She didn’t trust her voice so she just nodded.

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Talk to me like I’m talking to you!” Bucky snapped.

She remained silent this time, not ready for a fight.

“Why do you wanna leave? What did I do?”

“Bucky didn’t do anything.”

“Then what is it?!”

“That is it.”

“What?!”

“Bucky didn’t do anything. Bucky didn’t even look at Doll’s file. Bucky never even called Doll Doll.” Only now did her tears come back, rolling down her cheeks with ease as she spilled out all that she’s been holding inside of her, “Bucky never wanted Doll.”

“I— I didn’t have time to look at the file. We were in a hurry so I picked the first one in the batch!” Bucky tried to explain, but quickly realized what he'd said.

A sob escaped her at the revelation that she was picked at random, that it could’ve been anyone else and that he really never wanted her.

“That’s not what I meant. I— listen, at first maybe I didn’t want you, but it’s different now!”

“Bucky never even picked me?” She cried, her broken voice crushing his heart.

“I—”

“Please take me back.” She wiped at her face, trying to steady her breathing.

“But—”

“Please, Bucky, please.”

The way she begged him with teary eyes and a shaky voice made Bucky stand up despite himself to put his shoes back on to take her back.

He might’ve not gotten a chance to explain himself, but he’s done her enough damage and he wasn’t going to continue being the reason she cried when she has been the reason he stopped.

“Let’s go.” Bucky pursed his lips and opened the door for her, her bag in hand, knowing it will never be the same when he came back.

“Doll, now that you’re big at least tell me anything, dear. Did he do anything—”

“He didn’t do anything, Mrs. Morrison. I promise you. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman with me.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I just think I wasn’t ready. I shouldn’t have listed my little self as ready.” She shook her head with a polite smile.

Mrs. Morrison wasn’t buying it, but she couldn’t push her anymore.

“Alright, dear. I’ll go finish the report so Bucky’s therapist can get her copy in the morning.”

“Mrs. Morrison, please,” she held the older woman’s hand imploringly, “Bucky didn’t do but good. Make sure you’re just to him in your report.”

“Okay, doll. Whatever you say, dear.” She woman shook her head, giving up the argument before standing up and leaving the room.

It wasn’t the full truth, but she did believe she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t going to be ready for a long time, so it was better if she just went back home and let herself be grounded a little.

“Please, I need to see her.” Bucky begged in front of Mrs. Morrison’s desk.

“Not before you tell me what you did to her, Mr. Barnes!”

“I— I didn’t do anything.”

“That’s what she said too, but I know it’s not the truth!”

“Wait, what? I— please let me see her.”

“She’s not here, Sergeant Barnes.”

“What? Where is she?”

“Home,” the woman replied shortly, still mad at Bucky.

“I thought that was where they lived?”

The woman shook her head in disappointment, “you never read your copy of the file, did you?”

Bucky remained silent, too embarrassed to speak. Why did everyone keep asking about the damn file!

“No, they don’t live here. She went back to her life at her house.”

“Well, can you give me the address?”

“Of course, not! That’s private information and you two don’t even seem to have ended on good terms!”

“Please? I need to fix this.”

“You already had time to do that, Mr. Barnes.”

“Well… At least give me a chance to apologize.”

“I don’t know.” The woman hesitated.

“Please, I’ll do anything.” Bucky begged sincerely.

“Anything?” Mrs. Morrison smiled suddenly, making Bucky worry a little, but he meant his words nonetheless.

“Anything.”

“Corgi, calm down!” Bucky heard her sweet laugh as she approached the dog’s barks.

“You call your corgi Corgi?” He asked her with a smile.

“Bucky, what are you doing here?” Her smile quickly disappeared and a surprised frown replaced it.

“I—”

“Okay, I finished moving the new planters to the right side like you wanted— hello?” The man who cut Bucky off was offering him a hand.

Bucky shook it coldly, his signature frown staring the man down, “hey.”

“I’m Adam,” the man said with a friendly smile.

“Sergeant James Barnes.”

“Bucky, this is Adam, my best friend and neighbor, Adam, this is Bucky… a friend.” She introduced them, not sure of what to say about Bucky.

Meanwhile, Bucky felt something weigh down on him. Was it the fact that he wished she said more than just “a friend”? Was it the presence of this Adam guy? Was that… jealousy?!

“Right, so I’m gonna go now, but call me if you need anything, okay?” Adam said, looking at them both suspiciously.

“I will. Thank you for today, Adam. You’re the best.” She gave the man a hug, smiling from ear to ear as she did it, too.

That was a smile Bucky has never seen.

“I know I know. Bye, Corgi! Bye, Sergeant, nice to meet you!” Adam shouted as he walked out of her porch.

Bucky only nodded even though he knew the man couldn’t see him. He didn’t care if he was rude. Who was that anyway?

She was expecting Bucky to talk when Adam was gone but he just stood there, fiddling with the bag in his hand as he stared at her, so she didn’t say anything either.

She was done initiating. If he came all the way here on his own, he could start a conversation on his own.

“Who was that?”

“Really? You came all the way here to ask me that?”

He stuttered and swallowed, knowing fully well that he had no right to such a question.

“You seem different.”

“You mean big?” She smiled sadly, noticing how much more comfortable Bucky was dealing with her like that.

Bucky nodded guiltily, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I do have a life and responsibilities after all.” She shrugged, gesturing to her house and the puppy by her feet.

She was disappointed to say the least. First, he gave her a terrible week with him, then he returned her and never looked back and now he was on her porch for no clear reason or explanation, questioning her and her life?

Still, she felt a spark of hope in her chest at the fact that he was standing before her. There must’ve been a reason he came and it couldn’t be so he could fight more.

Bucky felt embarrassed, tongue-tied with guilt as he’s forgotten everything he has been wanting to say.

Then the sky started speaking for him, thundering loudly and making her jump with a hand on her heart.

“Oh, it’s gonna rain. Let’s go inside.”

For some reason, he assumed she was talking to the puppy but when she kept looking at him, Bucky gratefully moved his feet.

Her house was the epitome of coziness. It was a true home and it was nothing like Bucky’s.

It had actual furniture, colorful pieces he knew were carefully picked. It had wallpaper and picture frames and kitchenware and cute mugs and plates.

Only now did he know how much shit she could’ve given him for the place he made her stay in, but she didn’t.

“Bucky!”

“Yes?”

“I asked about your favorite tea.” She smiled, motioning to a number of varieties on her shelves.

“A coffee would be fine.”

“I’ll just make you earl grey with me.” She shrugged, ignoring his choice for a coffee at this relatively late hour of the evening.

“Hey!”

“It’s my house, my rules, old man!”

Wow! Big her was kind of feisty and it was making Bucky smile.

“What do you have there?” She asked, looking at the small plastic bag that Bucky’s been carrying in his hand.

“Oh, I— this is for you.” He handed her the bag, cheeks burning as he was still brand new when it came to such gestures.

“Oreos! And wolfie!” She called out happily when she looked inside the bag, “thank you so much!” She squeezed the tips of his fingers, smiling at him like he’d gotten her a rare diamond.

When she let go of his hand to open the package and taste the cookies, Bucky felt fear settle in his chest at the idea of having lost her forever.

He watched her try to hide the hug she was giving the white stuffed wolf before slipping it to her curious dog, “careful, Corgi.”

She didn’t lecture or blame him about his treatment of her, yes, nor did she even bring up the week she stayed at his house, but would she be willing to forgive him? Would she give him another chance?

Instead of screaming at him, she was sitting him down on a comfortable couch that had a soft blanket draped over it and serving him tea and cake. What kind of angel was she?

“If you don’t like it, I’ll make you coffee. But taste it first,” she set the tray with tea cups and a plate with a couple of cake slices on the little wooden coffee table and Bucky knew the smell of this tray was the only thing missing from her living room.

Now it was all perfect. It suited her so well.

“I made lime key cake this morning so you’re in luck. It goes really well with earl grey,” she told him, trying to get him to talk, to tell her why he was at her place a week later at 9 in the evening.

But he only nodded.

She didn’t push him. She has done enough coaxing and enough pushing. She didn’t have to do that anymore. If Bucky wanted to talk, he would have to talk on his own.

But he didn’t.

An hour later, she was getting sleepy and the rain was pouring even harder.

“I— I better go.” He stood up, patting his pockets nervously as if to make sure his belongings were in place.

So he came all the way here for nothing? He found her house and rode on his motorcycle all the way here for nothing?

“No way, you can’t drive your motor cycle in this rain!”

“I’m a super soldier, I don’t get sick,” Bucky argued with a smile, heart swelling at the idea that she still cared for him.

“I don’t care. The roads are slippery. It’s dangerous!”

“But—”

“No buts. You can have my bed, let me show you the room,” she said, never giving him space for a reply as she led the way to her bedroom.

“You really don’t have to. I can take the couch.” Or the floor

“The couch is mine. Corgi cries at night and doesn’t like to sleep alone. He’s still just a puppy.”

“Why don’t you just move his crate to your bedroom?”

“Because there’s a system in this house, Sergeant. We’re disciplined people.” She smiled playfully, “good night.”

And just like that, Bucky was alone in her bedroom, with her bed and sheets and blankets, where all the pillows smelled like her hair shampoo and the air was light and sweet. He was in heaven.

Bucky took his jacket off, draping it over the armchair by her vanity and her perfumes caught his eye.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t help himself as he picked up the first bottle and neared it to his nose.

Oh, lord, was this sexy. He imagined himself eating her up if he was to smell this perfume on her skin. It was captivating and it went well with her playful grown up personality.

He tried another bottle and it was a softer scent that he knew all too well. It was the one she wore when she was staying at his house. It smelt angelic, soft and welcoming.

Bucky had to stop himself from going down the line of perfumes because he didn’t think he could keep going.

He’d better go to bed and try to catch a few hours of sleep before the mind attacks started.

Grabbing a pillow that smelled like her, Bucky made himself as comfortable as could be on the wooden floor next to her bed, draping her overly soft blanket on his body.

“You call it a disciplined house but you don’t even have a dining table,” Bucky teased as he helped her bring the rest of the plates to the coffee table.

He was right actually. She lied last night. She could easily take Corgi to the bedroom with her, but what kind of hospitality would that be to give Bucky the couch when it was his first time visiting?

“At least my coffee table has space for more than 2 noodle cups,” she teased right back, hardly biting a smile.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her sassiness, smiling like an idiot at how easy she made everything.

Talking was easy around her. Existing was easy around her. Breathing was easy around her. And oh did he miss her.

“So…” she trailed, pouring orange juice in Bucky’s glass.

She couldn’t stay silent anymore. She had to understand why Bucky found her house and came to her after he’d clearly proven he didn’t want her. She wanted and tried to be the bigger person, but if he had something to say, she was ready to hear it now.

“I— I came here to say I’m sorry,” Bucky finally said the words that have been sitting on the back of his tongue for so long.

“Bucky…” she locked her eyes with his for a second, unable to read him, “you didn’t have to come all the way here. I didn’t tell Mrs. Morrison anything.”

The way she reassured him broke his heart. It was as if she wholeheartedly believed that all Bucky cared about was the final report.

But he cared about so much more. He cared about fixing this. He cared about her.

“I know. I did.”

“What?!”

“I told her everything.”

“Bucky— why?”

“I had to make it right.”

“Well, what did she say?” She chewed her lower lip nervously, worried everything has been ruined for Bucky.

“She made me serve a few hours at the institution and only when she got everyone’s approval did she agree to give me your address.”

“Everyone’s approval of what?” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“Of my storytelling skills,” Bucky replied proudly, putting some cheese on her plate for her when he noticed her freeze.

“Your storytelling— what?!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, a huge smile breaking on her face.

“I spent a few nights reading bedtime stories to the residents there and I’ll have you know I did a pretty good job, though most of them wanted lullabies so I stole some of yours—”

“Hold on! You, Bucky Barnes, read bedtime stories and sang lullabies to littles at the institution?”

“Yes, I did.” Bucky nodded with a shrug.

“You did all of this so you could have my address?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I missed you, doll.”

“Doll?” Her eyes instantly teared up at the sole use of the name coming from him.

“And to tell you that I got to meet everyone that was available at the same time you were and none of them could ever compare. They’re all amazing people, but none of them made me feel like you’ve made me feel in that short week,” Bucky admitted softly, eyes hesitant to leave his fingers.

“I was terrible to you and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry. I know now that I should’ve been better.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” she said with a content smile, simply satisfied with his presence as she passed him the bread. That apology was genuinely enough for her.

“No, doll, it’s not. I— I did the opposite of everything a caregiver should’ve done. It's just… you made me nervous, scared.” Bucky admitted.

“I scared you?” She scoffed in surprise. She wasn’t expecting this one.

“Yes. The way you were fully yourself, the way you weren’t afraid to show it, the way you did the effort to relieve yourself of whatever you were suffering from, it all scared me. How you openly cried when you needed to. It scared me because I didn’t know how to be like you. I didn’t know how to choose trust and kindness again after everything that had happened to me. Your courage scared me.”

“Oh, Bucky.” Tears rolled down her face as she desperately felt the need to hold him and kiss every inch of him better, “why didn’t you talk to me? I would’ve understood.”

“I tried… that day… but talking about it made me wanna close up on myself even more. It made me more scared. It wasn’t easy. It isn’t easy. And I can’t help it,” Bucky’s voice trembled as he fought his own tears.

He couldn’t believe he said those words out loud to someone else.

She left her seat and went to sit next to Bucky on the couch, her hands finding his and holding onto them for dear life.

“But when I came home to an empty living room after dropping you off at the institution, I knew what I'd lost. I realized what an asshole I’ve been to you. And I missed you. I missed you so much when I closed the door and you weren’t on the couch looking at me,” he poured his heart out to her with tears in his eyes.

She squeezed his hand more, trying to hug his fingers with hers but they were too short to fully cover his hands.

“You don’t have to give me another chance, but I felt like I could’ve died if I didn’t tell you how sorry I was and am. I’m sorry I didn’t give myself time to understand you and appreciate you for everything that you were, doll. I’m sorry I was so stupid and let you slip away from my hands. I’m sorry I was undeserving of your kindness and softness and love,” Bucky told her with tears pouring down his face, matching hers as she finally got to listen to all that he had to say.

“I really am sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to be a good daddy to you and I’m sorry I didn’t try to learn. It’s all my fault because you, doll, deserve someone who would bust their ass trying for you,” Bucky sighed, “but if you’d let me, I’ll spend as much time as you’ll allow me doing that.”

“Thank you for finding me.” She threw herself in his arms and Bucky felt his soul come back to him as he held her tight to his body.

“Thank you for welcoming me back in despite everything I’ve put you through. I know I don’t deserve it.” Bucky squeezed her closer, the smell of her hair calming his senses.

“You’re welcome.” She pulled back to wipe his tears away, giving him a smile prettier than anything he’s ever seen, “now let’s eat before the eggs go cold.” She wiped her eyes quickly before grabbing the spoon and putting some eggs on Bucky’s plate.

“Does that smile mean you forgive me, doll?” Bucky asked hopefully.

“I forgive you, Sarge.” She smiled at him, what was in her heart showing in her eyes.

“You won’t regret it,” he promised, putting some food in his mouth to stop any upcoming tears.

They ate silently in peace for a second before Bucky spoke out.

“Seriously though, who was that Adam guy?!”

“Way to ruin a moment, Bucky,” she teased.

But Bucky didn’t smile. He remained silent waiting for her answer with a tiny frown.

“I told you he’s my best friend and he lives next door.”

Bucky’s frown deepened slightly. So that man got to see her every day huh?

“With his wife,” she added, biting back a smile as she watched his face relax.

“Don’t toy with me like that, doll.”

“I couldn’t help it. This is all new to me and I’m having fun!”

“Does he come here a lot?”

“Yes, Bucky. It’s what friends do, they visit,” she laughed.

“I don’t see Sam that often and we’re fine.” He shrugged unconvincingly, making her laugh more.

“He’s a good man, you’ll come to like him. Plus, he helped me a lot those past weeks and took care of my garden and Corgi while I was away so I owe him.”

“So I’m seeing a farmer now?” Bucky teased.

“Oh look who’s not so quiet anymore!” She teased back with a giggle, “at least my fridge never runs out of tomatoes.”

“Can I ask you something?” Bucky asked, his face serious again.

She nodded in reply, a smile gracing her patient features.

“Why did it bother you so much when I told you to call me daddy?”

She hummed, letting go of her fork.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna answ—”

“It made me feel like you were returning a favor. Doing something because you felt like you had to do it, like it was the right thing to do, but not because you really wanted it. Yes, I wanted to call you daddy with my whole heart, but only if you wanted it too. It hurt because at the time I knew you still hadn’t accepted me for who I was and was just saying that so you could repay me for the hug I was giving you.”

“I’m so sorry.” Bucky shock his head in remorse, “I will never understand how you managed to put up with me for a whole week.”

“It’s because I know what it’s like to feel unwanted, Bucky. I know what it feels like to be unloved and unaccepted, especially by those who should give you unconditional love.”

“Family?” Bucky asked with a sad smile.

She nodded with a similar smile, “I know what it’s like to be more than your pain and anger with others only seeing the snapping and frowning. Little me doesn’t want anyone else to feel unloved like that because she knows how bad it all is. So she gives. She’s patient and she’s kind and sometimes I don’t think I could’ve accessed that part of myself if it wasn’t for her.”

“How so?”

“Grown ups are more cautious because they always have the consequences to things like vulnerability right in front of their eyes. We’re more likely to be afraid to show our hearts because we know we could get hurt bad because of it. Little me isn’t scared of that. She wakes up brand new every day. She wears her heart on her sleeve and trusts her love to do the magic.”

“You’re an amazing person.” Bucky raised her hand to his lips to press a timid kiss without much thought, “I guess I have a lot to learn from you, doll.”

“Don’t say stuff like that!” She whined playfully, cheeks going hot as she turned away shyly, “plus, do you have a death wish?” She raised a playful eyebrow.

“It’s true though— what?”

“I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” she teased, reminding him of the time she kissed his cheek on her first day at his house.

Bucky smiled sheepishly, whispering out an apology even though he knew she was joking.

Bucky stopped himself when she started coughing abruptly.

She’s been coughing a little here and there since morning, but he didn’t think anything of it.

She shook her head, still coughing as she ran to the bathroom, needing to find any sort of cold medicine. She knew what this was.

Bucky hurried behind her, “what’s wrong?”

In a second, she was bending forward, coughing her heart out.

“Are you okay?!”

She shook her head again, trying to calm down, “I thought it was just a sore throat but it’s getting worse.”

“Let’s get you to the doctor,” Bucky said, worry eating away inside his chest as he watched her cough more.

He quickly grabbed her jacket and keys, leading her out to her car.

“It’s because I let you sleep on the couch, isn’t it? You got cold,” Bucky said, running his fingers through his hair nervously as he paced around the room.

He hasn’t stopped blaming himself since they’d returned from the doctor’s. She caught a bad flu and Bucky quickly believed it was his fault.

“No, Bucky. It’s not that.”

“You don’t have to defend me, doll. It’s because of me. I’ve managed to hurt you again. And I don’t even use beds. I should’ve never let you sleep out here.”

“Hey! Calm down please! It’s not you... It was me.” She released a sigh, biting her lip.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when the rain got even worse after you went to bed. I thought I’d come out and cover the motorcycle so that it wouldn’t get all muddy and you’d have a hard time cleaning it,” she explained, fiddling with her fingers.

“That’s still because of me,” Bucky sighed.

“Come on, it’s not like you made me!” Her hoarse voice tried to reassure.

Bucky only ran his fingers through his messy hair again, not knowing what to say or do to make this one right.

“Bucky, please, I’m sick. All I want is for you to stay beside me and not blame yourself.” Her frown was back to her beautiful face and Bucky didn’t like it, “can you do that for me?”

He didn’t like how sick and scratchy her voice sounded either so he wasn’t about to make talk more with a throat like that.

“I’ve already proven I suck at taking care of you, doll,” Bucky chuckled sadly.

“Do you want forgiveness or not?” She joked.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”

“Is it dangerous for you though? I don’t want you to get it too.”

“I can’t get sick, remember?” Bucky smiled, rubbing her back lightly, “I’m your nurse now.”

“Is that so?” She giggled.

“Yeah.” He nodded confidently.

“You’re definitely not dressed for it,” she teased, giving him her tongue.

“Oh, are you into that kinda thing, doll?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile she has never seen before on his pink lips.

“Bucky!” She squealed, hiding her face with the covers, making Bucky laugh.

The sound was heaven to her ears and despite being awfully sick, she couldn’t wish for a better outcome for Bucky’s visit.

“Shit, here it comes again,” she gulped before starting another fit of harsh coughing.

“Bad word,” he whispered to her, making her smile tiredly as she continued coughing.

“I don’t wanna go,” she whined as Bucky gently forced her arm inside her jacket.

“We have to. You need your shots to get better.” Bucky covered her head with the hood of her jacket to make sure she was warm before leading her outside.

“But shots hurt,” she whined more with teary eyes.

“I’ll be right there, remember?”

“That’s not gonna do anything!” She whined further.

“Hey!” Bucky pretended to be hurt as he helped her inside the car.

She sighed with a grateful smile, “fine, hugs or I don’t go.”

“Hugs it is.” Bucky smiled back, taking seat next to her before starting the car.

“No, no, no, please. I’m not ready, I don’t want it. Give me pills instead, give me pills,” she cried in Bucky’s chest as she saw the doctor get the shot ready.

“Doll, it’s okay, I promise. I got you,” Bucky said, feeling as helpless as ever.

He wished he could get the shots for her, but it wasn’t possible. He could feel something different about her. She looked like she was slipping into her little headspace and it made Bucky nervous, oh so nervous, that he might mess up and not be able to deal with her again.

She barely calmed down enough for Bucky to help her small hands lower her pants just enough for the doctor to have space to push the needle in.

She moaned in pain as she hid her face in Bucky’s chest, crying for real when she felt the strong medicine inside the needle spread inside her.

“It stings. It stings bad,” she sobbed, hands clutching Bucky’s shirt as he covered her behind again and made sure she was properly covered.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We’re going home now, it’s over,” Bucky cooed, rubbing and patting her back with his big hand.

“It hurts, daddy,” she sniveled in his ear and Bucky froze.

Those innocent teary eyes looking up at him like that made him feel a lot of things. But most importantly, they made him feel like he could do this. He could take care of this sweet girl without messing up this time. Her love would show him how.

“I got you, doll. Daddy’s got you.”

part V

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thecampjuicebox · 9 months

Note

Can I ask for how the Baldur's Gate 3 origin companions would react to Tav willingly taking a near fatal hit to save their life when they had only just recently met and then carrying on like they didn't just almost die to save the life a total stranger (even being confused why anyone would make a big deal about it if confronted)?

Yes absolutely! I'll keep these relatively short and sweet in the interest of time (and space). ✨

Astarion

The vampire spawn would certainly be perplexed by the way Tav would so willingly take a hit for him. No one has ever done something nice for him on purpose, let alone out of the kindness of their heart. He'd feel like it was transactional. Maybe he should take a hit or two for them now. And their confusion at his question of "why" would perplex him even further. "You could have died, you idiot. What do you mean you're confused? You're a strange one."

Karlach

I think Karlach's response would be very similar to when Wyll stuck his neck out for her to Mizora. Just purely grateful. She'd very willingly throw herself in front of an enemy to return the favor, or rush to Tav's side to smack some baddies if they needed the help. The Tiefling is so kind on her own, I just know she'd appreciate some kindness being shown to her, regardless of the circumstances. When Tav shows confusion toward Karlach asking why they'd get so close to death for her, Karlach would simply reply with a "Thank you, Soldier. It means a lot."

Wyll

As the Blade of Frontiers, I know Wyll is used to taking the brunt of the fight head on. But when Tav jumps in front of him, phew. I think it would be quite a bit for him to process. The hero becomes the damsel, and suddenly, he doesn't know how to act. He'd be grateful, of course. Maybe even a little apologetic for making such a grave error during a fight. I don't think he'd ask why Tav did it because he fully understands the desire to help others, but he'd be sure to express his gratitude nonetheless.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart is such a headstrong and secretive character with an underlying softness so her reaction to Tav putting themselves in immediate danger for her could cause a whole mix of reactions. Of course she'd be thankful, and probably react the same as when Tav saved her from the pod on the Nautiloid. However, mixed in there, I think would be a sense of guilt. Like Shar would be disappointed in her for some reason. And there would lie the dilemma of "Do I thank this person, or do I brush it off because I didn't ask for their help in the first place?" The question of "why" would absolutely cross her mind, but I think she'd avoid asking to preserve her pride.

Lae'Zel

I just know Lae'Zel would almost be annoyed that Tav would jump to protect her. There's no way an istik like Tav would want to help her, right? It would confuse her, for sure, as I don't think she'd initially think to do the same for Tav. Not that Lae'Zel isn't capable of caring for people, but in the beginning, she's definitely a self preservation type. She'd absolutely insult Tav for their recklessness and the fact that they got themselves THAT hurt in the first place.

Gale

Ah yes, Gale the loverboy. Tav throwing themselves in front of a blade for Gale would start the downhill spiral of Gale falling for them. He does mention at some point that he loves the way Tav looks in battle, and he's incredibly drawn to their musk and the blood on their clothes. So of course he'd be hella horny for Tav after they take a hit or two for him. And of course he'd do the same in return if it meant making Tav happy. He's the sweetest. Wouldn't even question why Tav helped him, but he'd give them a billion and one thanks for it.

✨BONUS ROUND✨

Halsin

Halsin's whole thing is helping people, so it would come to no surprise to him when Tav jumps to his rescue. Not that he expects it from people, but he hopes people would do for him what he'd do for them. He's another one that would start to fall for Tav for that exact reason. Their selflessness, their strength, their willingness to provide aid. He'd give so much thanks, mostly in the form of big bear hugs. Wouldn't question their intentions, would just appreciate the thought of him.

Minthara

Minthara can be an absolute bully at first. She'd absolutely criticize Tav's approach to the situation. "Well if you didn't leave your left flank open, you wouldn't have gotten hit there." and things of that nature. She'd thank Tav purely to save time arguing the logistics of why it was stupid of them to come to her aid in the first place, when she CLEARLY had it under control (She absolutely did not). She'd have a very similar reaction to Astarion when questioning Tav about why they'd assist her, thinking Tav is an absolute idiot.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcannons #gale dekarios #lae'zel #shadowheart #astarion #karlach #halsin #minthara #wyll ravengard

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shadowynn · 2 years

Text

| in love and lore | three |

pairing: ateez x fem reader (yeosang x reader focused chapter)

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: little more cursing than usual, prejudice against mc, some violence, some yandere themes

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 8.5k

| two | three | four |

“Do you have any idea who I am?”

You struggled to control the frustration that bloomed within you at the scene happening on the other side of the infirmary. While the backlash your presence brought to those who deemed themselves a higher class had upset you when you were younger, you had dealt with it and their hatred towards you enough times to learn the only thing you could do was just let it roll off your back. The young half-daemon who had the unfortunate luck of being on the receiving end of the latest human to take offense to your presence had a harder time ignoring the statements and was close to tears from the commotion the woman had started.

You had watched it unfold from your position in the back for the past few minutes, hoping it wouldn’t escalate any further. Hoping one of the human healers would go over and deal with it. But despite clearly seeing the trouble she had started - her screeching voice echoed throughout the room making it impossible for anyone to ignore - no one showed any inclination of heading over to deal with it or help the poor girl out.

“I apologize, but will you excuse me for just a moment?”

Your eyes flicked back to the man you had been attending to, the bandages you had been unwrapping from his arm slipping through your fingers when the woman threw the vial she had been handed against the floor, shattering the glass and spilling the contents. If Suho were here, he would have stepped in by now, but he was still in the back and oblivious to the fit the woman was throwing. With him gone for the time being and the others content with just letting the half-daemon suffer for the time being, you had little choice but to step in yourself. You couldn’t sit here and watch her suffer any longer.

The man had also been watching the scene with careful eyes, but turned back to you when your grip on his arm tightened momentarily. His head tilted, and you had a hard time reading his expression as he nodded.

“Of course.”

Nodding your gratitude, you made your way over to the counter where the two were standing. Hana was nearly shaking as the woman once again began going through all the connections she had in the council and how each of them were going to hear how someone of her status was being treated. How much of an insult it was for her to be waited upon by a mutt.

“Hana, I believe Suho was needing some help in the back.” Relief bloomed over her features at your approach. With a quick nod of her head, she took her leave towards the back to get Suho, muttering her gratitude to you under her breath as she went. “I apologize for the inconvenience, ma’am.” Despite the dislike you held towards her for the way she was acting, you kept your tone as even as possible. The last thing you needed was to do anything that might escalate the situation any further. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Just what kind of establishment do you think you’re running here? Letting mutts serve the common people is just asking for accidents to happen.” Her arms crossed, eyes boring into you. “I refuse to be served anything made by one of those miscreants.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience, ma’am,” you repeated, struggling to resist the urge to roll your eyes and oblige to her request. While the knowledge was common enough among those who worked in the respective fields, the fact that only those with magic flowing through their veins were able to brew potions or create runes to enchant armor and weapons was conveniently skimmed over by the majority of the humans. If you were to do exactly what she asked, you’d be giving her something that wouldn’t work. And if it didn’t do exactly what she wanted, it would only lead to you getting in even more trouble than if you had fought her on it. “If you don’t mind waiting for just a moment longer, the lead healer will be out to oblige to your request.”

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but commotions such as this one had grown more and more common the past few days as the remaining waves of refugees came flocking to the city. While Maehwa’s population of half-daemons had greatly increased in the past few years to help with the war efforts, your kind weren’t generally seen in the other cities, leading to an increasing distrust towards you from the refugees who weren’t as accustomed to your presence or aware of your talents. It was only midday, and yet, this was the third customer who had refused to be served by yourself or Hana.

“How stupid do you think I am?” It took a few seconds, but she finally took note of the fact you were just another half-daemon like the girl before when she took notice of your eyes. “You thought you could sneak your way over and do the poisoning yourself, you conniving, little bitch.”

“No, ma’am, I’m only here to get-“ But your words were lost to the void as her anger at your mere presence grew.

“You saw I wouldn’t take the poison from the other mutt, so you decided you would come over and do it yourself. You thought you could earn yourself some favor with that king of yours by killing someone of my-“

“No, ma’am, I was only trying-“

The sound of her palm hitting your cheek reverberated throughout the room and you became acutely aware of the silence king before you felt the sting. It was enough to make your eyes water and you fought to blink back the tears that had formed. You didn’t have to look around the room to know that every single pair of eyes in the clinic were now on you, and the thought of crying in front of every single one of them had you blinking them back all the more quickly.

“How dare you interrupt me, bitch.”

Her voice had taken a high shrill and her nostrils were flared as she stared you down. The pride that had bloomed across her face when she saw the shock on your face and the hand that raised to touch the skin she had just hit made you want to scream. To scream and kick until you were hoarse in the throat. It wasn’t the humans who healed their soldiers and it wasn’t the humans that stayed up late nearly every night brewing each and every potion they came in and drank. It wasn’t Suho or the other human healers that kept the clinic open and running. It was you. You and every other half-daemon who worked in this damn city. And it was you and you alone who actively bled for them, giving up your blood to supply the health potions they so greedily took.

But you couldn’t. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Because if you did, you would only succeed in getting yourself reported. And if you were reported, you would certainly end up dead before you even had a chance to attempt to defend yourself. The daemons had seen to that when they branded you as a traitor.

So, instead, you simply bowed your head and clenched your fists.

“What’s going on here?” Suho spoke up from behind you, eyeing the bruise that had already started blooming on your face with disdain in his approach.

“This bitch tried to poison me!” The woman threw an accusatory finger in your direction, eyes blazing once more. “I don’t know what kind of establishment you think you’re running here, but I refuse to continue coming to any place that believes these mutts are competent enough to work there. I can only pray you don’t trust them to do the actual brewing too.”

“Now, ma’am-“ Suho began, but the woman wasn’t having any of it. If it wasn’t for the fact she realized Suho was a human, you had no doubt she would have slapped him too.

"My son is on the council at Yuchae and I assure you he will hear of this and have your business shut down indefinitely. In the meantime, however, I am left with little choice but to report your workers here. I'm sure the council will be very interested to hear the very mutts they've been takin in have been trying to poison its citizens."

You tried to regain control of your emotions and keep your face straight, but the threat of being reported made your breath catch. The fear you had tried so hard to keep under wraps the past few days finally beginning to show as the weight of her threat hit.

She was going to report you.

The haughty smile that crossed her face at the reaction her threat pulled out of you was the twist of the knife, and her shoulders lifted when she realized she had finally gotten the response she had wanted from you. It didn't matter that her words weren't true and that you hadn't done any of the things she accused you of. It didn't matter you had only been trying to help her. In the end, it was her words over yours and the words of a human were worth more than yours and all the other half-daemons combined, especially if she truly was the woman she said she was.

The silence which followed her absence was heavy, and her final words echoed in your mind, stinging more than her hand. It didn't matter what had actually occurred between you. She would still end up sending a report to the council for suspicion of traitorous activity. The council, whether they believed her or not, would be forced to investigate and come knocking at your door the following morning to take you away for questioning. They would be forced to give you a truth serum - one you probably brewed yourself - and while it would prove your innocence for the crime you were being accused of, it could very well leave you revealing what you had been up to the past two years if the right questions were asked. You would be left with no choice but to reveal you had not only been actively healing daemon troops, but one of their generals as well. And once the truth was out, invaluable skills or not, they would hang you as a traitor for that vile woman and the others like her to watch.

"Back room, y/n, now." Suho's tone made you jump. Never before had you heard him sound so angry, making you quick to oblige to his request.

"Goddammit, y/n, why couldn't you have just came and got me?" He was quick to break the silence when the door to the back room swung closed, striking a nearby table with his fist. The action caught you by surprise and you were unable to keep yourself from flinching, the sound reminding you of the slap you had taken moments earlier.

"I'm sorry, Suho. She had Hana close to tears and I wasn't thinking clearly. I just wanted to try and calm-" The words flew out of your mouth, inwardly cursing yourself as you realized his words rang true. The smart thing to do would have been to get him yourself, but you had just been so caught up in the moment that you had been more concerned over Hana than your own well-being. She had just turned fourteen and if you hadn't stepped in when you did, it very well could have been her on the other side of her fist.

"The whole world is going to hell and she has to go and take the one person keeping us afloat here because her pride was wounded by a couple of halfbreeds. I'm sure what happened her is exactly what the Yuchaen council wants to hear about when they have daemons assaulting their walls. Does she really think her pride is worth more than an entire city?" Suho cursed again, and as you looked at him with new eyes, you began to see it wasn't you he was so angry with. Annoyed with your attempt to intervene on Hana's behalf, maybe, but his full anger wasn't directed towards you. "I'll do what I can to make them see we can't afford to have you gone for the next week, not with the daemons at our footsteps, but whether or not they'll actually listen to me..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But for now, just take the rest of the day off."

"But-"

"y/n, you've practically lived here since we've gotten back. You're running on empty, so go get some rest while you can. Perhaps I can show the council how much we really do rely on you in your absence, and if not, well, I'm sure you'll need all the rest you can get when the report goes through."

You wanted to fight him on it, eager to get back to work and prove your worth. Prove that you really weren't a traitor and that you really were loyal to the humans who had taken you in. But the look on his face showed this wasn't something you were going to be able to fight him on, and you were left with no choice but to bow your head and follow through with his request by gathering your things and heading out the back door.

"Shit!" You couldn't keep the curse from rolling off your tongue as you exited into the back alley, your fear and frustration from the day hitting you all at once. More curses were quick to follow the first and the tears you had worked so hard to keep under wraps finally came pouring out.

It wasn't fair. Nothing about this was fair. All you had tried to do was deescalate the situation and save Hana from the woman's fury. You hadn't tried to poison her. You hadn't even raised your voice at her to scream or raised a fist to punch her square in the face like she deserved. She was the one who had screamed obscenities at you. She was the one who had called you names and raised her hand, and yet you were the one who would end up in trouble. You would be the one dead because of it. All because of something you had no control over. All because of something you had never even asked for. All because your father had been a daemon.

"Shit, shit, shit." More curses rolled out, and the side of your fists hit the wall with each word before your voice cracked from the tears and all that was left was your sobs. Your forehead fell against the brick wall in front of you, cool against the heat your emotions had built up.

It just wasn't fair. In all your years you had never raised your fist at anyone. You had never hurt anyone. You had only helped people. You had only ever saved people. And yet, despite everything you had done for the humans around you, you had still been treated like shit your entire life. You had devoted your entire being to them. You had bled for them. And they had yet to show you even an ounce of gratitude for what you had done. They had only ever treated you like scum. They had only treated you like the very mutt they called you.

And then there was the daemons. Despite everything they had done and the cruelty they had shown, you had still tried to help them as well, moved by the empathy you felt towards their dying men. And yet, it did nothing to deter them from treating you any differently than the humans. With sweet promises of rewards and greatness for your deeds only to raise the knife to your throat the moment you stepped a toe out of line. After all, it was them who had gotten you in this mess when they decided to brand you with the mark of their king. If it wasn't for that, you very well might not be dead in the next few days.

"Are you okay?"

Do I look okay?

You were barely able to contain the words from coming out, snapping at the voice who spoke up next to you from the emotions swirling inside you. Turning your head to the side, you found the man you had been attending to before everything had spiraled out of control.

"I'm sorry, that probably wasn't the best question to ask," he continued, a seamless reply to the answer you had all but snapped at him in your head. "Of course you're not okay."

You rubbed at your face with the back of your sleeve at his approach, attempting to wipe the tears away and regain control of your breathing. How long had he been standing there?

"I apologize. I didn't mean to just leave you there. Are you still in need of assistance?" You attempted a deep breath, but it was still shaky in the exhale.

He shook his head. "I saw what happened back inside. What a bitch." The insult ran off his lips with ease and you couldn't hold back the surprise his statement brought. "If I were you, I would have slapped that shit-eating grin right off her face."

His following statement caught you just off guard as the first, and you couldn't help but give him a quick once over as he came closer. While not all humans hated your kind as much as others, you couldn't remember a time when one of them had been so vocal in calling out the way you were treated, especially not with the current state of the war. Not when the daemons were the enemy.

His eyes were dark and body tense as he raised a hand to take in the bruises you had yet to heal, as though the thought of her touching you in such a way had angered him.

You were suddenly aware how beautiful he was in that moment - how had you not noticed how attractive he was until now? - acutely conscious of the fingers shamelessly brushing against your skin. He stood just a few inches taller than yourself, with light brown hair that hung down around his eye level. The majority of it was pushed back behind his ears, but there was a stray piece hanging in front of his eye and you fought the sudden urge to brush it away for him.

You didn't know who this man was, sure you would have remembered a face such as his own, but there was a familiarity and sense of longing towards him that you couldn't explain. The hole in your chest that you had since grown accustomed to seemed to lessen in that moment, as though a piece of you that had been burned away had been filled once more.

"Even if I had wanted to, I couldn't. It would have only gotten me in more trouble than I already am."

His fingers gently prodded against your cheek as you spoke, tilting your head to the side to get a better look of it in the light. You briefly thought about how you should push him away, surprised by your lack of care for how close he was, but the cool brush of his fingers was refreshing and you found yourself unconsciously tilting your face further into his touch.

"Your concern is appreciated, but I assure you I am fine. It'll go away in a few days."

Or as soon as you got home and were away from any prying eyes to see your ability at work. Healing it now would only raise questions you weren't comfortable with answering. The last thing you needed was to be in even more trouble for something as stupid as using your ability around a human.

You gave him a hint of a smile before finally taking a step back and bowing your head to try and hide the blush his presence brought. You didn't know what was up with you. Whether it was just his attractiveness, his concern, or both, that had you acting in this way. But this sort of interaction wasn't normal for you. Besides your siblings, no one had ever shown this type of concern towards you, especially not a human, and you could find yourself getting a bit uncomfortable with it now that the initial shock of his appearance was over. His presence may have held a hint of warmth to it, but you couldn't help but begin to doubt his intentions as your head cleared. It must have been an act. It had to be an act. Why else would someone like him be doing this? One wrong move and his true colors would show. One wrong move and the whole charade would come crashing down.

"How do you stand it? I've only been in the city for a few days now and yet, the way these people treat you, it's sickening. You've saved so many of their lives, devoted your entire being into helping them, and they look at you as though you're nothing more than trash."

"It's all I've ever known, and when you hear the same insults day after day, you begin to just tune them out. You just get used to it." You shrugged, wondering where exactly he was from to find this sort of behavior unusual. You had traveled to many cities throughout your twenty years, but no matter where you went, the humans were always the same. "And it's better than just being left to die. With the humans I may be hated, but at least I'm given a semi-normal life. That's more than I would have ever had if I had been born amongst the daemons."

You were careful in your response. He may have shown you sympathy, but it was hard for you to fully trust him. If this was really an act like you suspected, then saying anything outright against the humans would only land yourself in a worse position than you already were.

"Do you really believe that?" His gaze softened, as though he had taken offense to your comment, but in what way, you couldn't understand. You hadn't said anything wrong, had you? "That you would be better here than amongst the daemons?"

"Well, everyone's heard the stories about how the daemons treat those impure of blood, even those who haven't been threatened with it their entire lives." You sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself. The way daemons treated those not fully daemon was something humans threw your way often. It was their way of reminding you how lucky you were to have been born on their side. Of how grateful you should be to them that they didn't just kill you when you had been born. "Despite all their faults, I'm alive, aren't I? Maybe it's just because of their need for the magic that flows in my blood, but my life does hold some semblance of normality. I have a job, a home, and a family I get to see. All of which is more than the daemons would have given me. The moment they saw the lack of horns on my head, they would have dumped me outside and left me to the elements. For how dare the bloodline be tainted by something so impure."

"It may have used to be that way, but I've heard things have started changing since the new daemon king was crowned. He's said to be more lenient with the halfbreeds." He leaned his shoulder against the wall next to you, turning his body to where he was still facing you as he crossed his own arms. "As long as they show their fealty to the golden crown, they're free to live and do as they please."

"I'm not saying you're wrong, but it sure hasn't felt like that from my point of view. Nothing has changed from the way the daemons look at me. It hasn't changed the way they view me."

You shook your head, collapsing against the wall behind you and leaning your head back to rest against the bricks. You didn't run into daemons often when you weren't undercover, but were often forced to interact with those who had been captured whenever you were called outside Maehwa's walls. None of the humans liked to go near them, so you were the one tasked with delivering their food when you weren't bogged down in the infirmary. The moment they saw you were a half-daemon, the insults would start flying.

"I mean, after a few hundred years, you'd think they would come up with some new insults, wouldn't you?" You huffed, the corner of your lip twitching upwards. Your eyes caught his when you glanced his way, expecting to see him crack a smile at your joke, but were surprised by the from that crossed them instead.

"You've been treated unkindly?"

"Are you serious?" You couldn't stop the snort his reply brought, certain he wasn't actually surprised at the knowledge, but one more look and you could tell he was.

"I apologize. I grew up on the borders where relationships between daemons and humans weren't quite as... tense." He shifted uncomfortably, shoulders tense. "I forgot that not everyone has such favorable opinions towards daemons and half-daemons as I'm used to."

"I'm sorry as well."

Your hand reached for his shoulder, hoping to convey your empathy. You had forgotten that relations had been more amicable between the two in the villages near the borders. Despite intermingling being frowned upon by each side, they had been left alone for the most part before the war had begun. The villages had been the first to be hit nearly twenty years ago, and while the humans had recruited the majority of the half-daemons for the war efforts, the rest of the citizens had been left defenseless against the daemon forces.

"I've heard about how it went down near the border when the war began. I can't imagine what you might have gone through."

"Thank you." His hand raised to yours, offering you a smile. "That means more than you probably know."

You returned his smile, finally beginning to understand him. It made sense now why he had been so outspoken in how you were treated by both sides and why he didn't seem to despise you as much as the others. He had grown up somewhere where people like you weren't so uncommon. Somewhere where people like you weren't so hated. And somewhere that had been betrayed by both sides when they had done nothing to stop the villages from being razed to the ground.

"If you ask me, humans, daemons, this fucking war. It's all shit."

You sighed, slipping your hand out from under his and dropping it to your side. You didn't know who this man was - hell, you didn't even know his name yet - but you felt yourself beginning to trust him. There was just something about being with him that made you feel like you were safe. That you were seen. Seen for who you really were without any condemnation towards the part of you that wasn't human or the part that wasn't daemon. Just you. Purely you.

"The humans are jealous of the daemons for the magic that flows in their veins and the daemons have allowed that same magic to cloud their brains. Each of them like to believe they are better than the other, but in the end, they're just two sides of the same coin. They're both just terrible people doing terrible things to each other and we get to be the lucky ones caught in the middle of it all."

"What would you have done if things had been different?" He surprised you with his reply, turning the conversation to something a bit lighter. "If this war wasn't going on and no one cared about your blood status and you were free to do whatever the hell you wanted, what would you do?"

You paused for a second, mulling over the question. While no one had outright asked you this before, it was something you had thought about before.

"I'd open my own shop," your reply was soft. "It would be one of those little buildings where I would live above my shop and have my own private garden in the back so I could grown the majority of the ingredients myself. I would brew anything and everything I wanted and help those who needed me. It wouldn't be about the money, I'd take whatever they could afford, but rather just getting to do something I love on my own terms and no one else's."

You felt your cheeks begin to tint at your confession, slightly embarrassed by how obvious it was that this was something you had spent some time thinking about. It was just a shame that it would never come to be. When you were younger, you had foolishly believed the life you lived would only last through the war. That once it was finally over, you would be free to do whatever you wanted. It wasn't until you were older that you realized how foolish you had been. Even if the humans did win and you survived to the end, something like that would never be achievable. Someone like you would never be granted that much freedom.

"What about you?" You were quick to ask, embarrassed by your own confession now that it was out and not quite wanting to hear what his thoughts on it might have been. "If you could do anything, what would you do?"

"Hmm," he hummed, lips twisting as he mulled over your question. "This might sound a little strange, but I think I would really just want to finally settle down. To not have to be on the move anymore and just be at peace with the people I care for. It's silly, I know, but having a ma- ...wife and family is something I thought would never, could never, be mine."

"I don't think it's silly." You shook your head. "And I hope you live long enough to see it come true. Everyone deserves that kind of happiness in their life, and, well, I can't imagine someone like you having a very hard time finding it."

"Someone like me?" he asked, quirking a brow.

Your cheeks tinted once more at his question, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips all but saying he already knew what you were implying. "You know, like nice. Kind. Sweet." Beautiful. You meant the words you said to him, but it was really that last word that held the most significance to your statement. One more look was all it took to remember how unbelievably attractive he was. Why he thought a wife was out of the question for him, you couldn't understand. "Any woman would be lucky to have you."

He hummed, pleased with your response. "Well, if someone like you thinks that, then it must come true one day."

"Someone like me?"

"You know, kind. Nice. Sweet. Beautiful."

You couldn't stop the sharp intake his comment caused, sure you had misheard him and imagine it, but the smirk which covered his face in that moment said otherwise. You were quick to turn your face away, hoping he couldn't see how red your face was growing. Hoping he wouldn't see how much his words had affected you.

"I'm sorry. I just realized I never introduced myself."

You could hear the amusement in his tone as he spoke, but you were still grateful he decided to drop it for now and switch the conversation once more. You weren't sure how to take his following statement, much less how to respond to it. It was obvious he was just teasing you - there was no way someone like him could actually be serious with any of it - but the effect was still there. The only person who had ever called you beautiful before had been Seonghwa, and you knew that hardly counted. He had to have been delirious when he said that, out of it from just coming back from death's door.

"I'm Yeosang."

"Oh, I'm y/n," you stumbled out. "It's nice to meet you, Yeosang, even if it's only for this one moment."

Reality came crashing back down on you in that moment. One thought of what life might have been like with this man quickly reminding you that despite his comments, it was impossible. Not only because it was ridiculous to think someone like him would ever want to be with you, but because you wouldn't even be alive for much longer. Unless a miracle occurred, the next time he would see you would be at the gallows with a noose around your neck. And what would he think of you then? When he learned just what you had done to aid the daemons? The very people who had destroyed his hometown and burned anyone who had been unable to escape in time.

"What do you mean?" His expression fell at your sudden shift in mood, that teasing smile that had graced his lips falling as his eyes searched you for an answer.

"Didn't you hear? She's reporting me." Your voice cracked as the realization of your impending doom hit you once more. This bittersweet interaction with Yeosang, perhaps the nicest and prettiest human you had ever met, was only a distraction from the inevitable. One brief, happy moment to conclude the mess your life had tumbled into. "And, well, with the growing tensions between humans and daemons, I have a hard time believing I'll make it out of this one alive."

Your hand rubbed at the top of your chest where the golden hilt of the sword was still engraved on your skin. Despite all the runes and spells Soomin had attempted, none of them had been able to erase or hide the mark that laid there. Her magic wasn't nearly powerful enough to combat whatever the Black General had done to you.

"That's only if she gets around to filing it."

"What do you mean? Of course she's going to file it. You saw the way she was acting in there."

For the first time since you had met him, you found yourself wary at his words, not quite trusting the dark gleam that had taken up in his eyes.

"You're right." He shook his head, offering another breathtaking smile in an attempt to lighten the mood back up. "I guess it was just wishful thinking she would change her mind or that something might happen to her before she gets around to filing it. The world would be a better place without pigs like her contaminating it."

"Unfortunately, that's not how the world works," you reply, watching him carefully out of the corner of your eyes.

The relaxed exterior he had previously presented had disappeared and you couldn't stop yourself from shuffling a step or two back, this new demeanor of his making you nervous. You could feel the anger radiating off of him, mirroring the frustration you had felt earlier.

It was very nice meeting you, Yeosang, but I think I should get going." You voice was soft, busy wondering where this new side of his had come from. "If we don't ever see each other again, well, then, I wish you the very best."

"Don't worry, y/n." He grabbed your wrist when you went to pass him by, stopping your movements and forcing you to look back up at him one last time. His eyes had lightened, and though they still appeared sad, a smile graced his lips as he took you in one last time. "I have a feeling this won't be the only time we have the pleasure of meeting." Using the hold he still had on you, he raised your hand towards his mouth and lightly kissed the top of it. "Until then, try and stay safe for me, will you?"

Little sleep happened in your house that night. Upon revealing what had happened to you at the clinic earlier in the day and the looming report over your head, neither you nor your siblings slept that much, if at all.

Soomin stayed up the entire night trying to create a working rune that hid your golden mark, but no matter what pattern or creation she traced upon your skin, the mark remained as bright and clear as always. She begged you to get some sleep in between each attempt, knowing the best thing you could to for yourself would be to go to the interview well rested, but no matter how long you laid in bed, sleep never did come. Eventually, you just gave up, deciding you would rather spend your remaining time with her and Hyunwoo than escaping your fears through your dreams.

As you waited, you drew. Your job left you little time for hobbies, but you had had a knack for the arts since you were little. Your love for it blooming when you and Hyunwoo would use sticks to draw in the mud when you were still young, competing to see who could create the better drawing, a contest you all but won every time. You didn’t have much money to splurge for many supplies, however, and the majority of your works were done on blanks spaces of scattered papers and documents or the sketchbook Soomin and Hyunwoo had gotten you for your twentieth birthday. The majority of the book was still empty, but you had pulled it out and started sketching in its pages upon the realization you might not live to see it filled.

“Is that the general?”

You were startled from your thoughts when Soomin spoke, peering at the latest sketch over your shoulders.

“No.” You shook your head, just now realizing exactly what you had been drawing. In the midst of everything clawing away at your head, you hadn’t paid much attention to what your hands seemed to pull together on their own accord until Soomin called you out on it. “It’s just a guy I met today on my way home. I don’t know why I added the horns…” Your words stumbled to a close, tilting your head to try and figure out why you had added them. “If you want to see what the general looked like, this is him as best as I can recall.” You flipped back to the previous page, showing the sketch you had done of the daemon she was referring to. Just like the sketch you had nearly completed of Yeosang, the one of the general had seemed to come to on its own accord as well.

“Oh,” Soomin couldn’t hold back her surprise at the second drawing, seemingly just as shocked as you had been when you had seen him for the first time. “He’s…”

“Beautiful? I know,” you finished for her, taking in his sharp features once more, vaguely remembering the way he had said the very same thing about yourself. “It’s quite the difference from the monster you create him to be in your head, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if I would use that exact word, but yes, he is very different than what I had always pictured one of the Seven to be in my head.” But one look at Soomin’s face was all it took for you to see she might have been stretching the truth a bit with the pink tint her cheeks had suddenly taken. “And what of this other boy?” Soomin turned the topic back to Yeosang to hide her embarrassment, more interested in the boy you had met earlier that day. “He’s also rather…”

“Pretty?” You giggled, amused by your sister’s inability to be honest with her words. “And can you believe he called me pretty too?” Beautiful, actually, but it felt strange admitting his exact words out loud. Not when you knew he didn’t really mean anything by it. Just like Seonghwa hadn’t meant what he had said about you either.

“And you’re just now telling me about this?” Soomin shoved your shoulders, upset this was the first she was hearing about your encounter with the boy.

“To be honest, it was probably just him being sweet. He was from the borders, so he’s more used to people like us.” You shrugged, fighting off the disappointment the truth brought. “I mean, really, what human in their right mind would actually think something like that about me, but I don’t know...” You found it hard to keep your own blush off your face this time around. “It still felt really nice. And he was really nice. It’s just a shame the world is going to hell and it’s dragging us along with it.”

“Don’t give up yet, n/n. You may see him yet again.”

“See who?” Hyunwoo asked as he walked into the house, shaking out the hair he had pulled up and out of the way in order to work at the forge as he slipped off his shoes. While Soomin had gone to work on trying to hide the daemon’s mark on your chest, Hyunwoo had gone back to the forge to work on a project he claimed was a secret for the time being.

“No one,” you replied, attempting to hide your sketchbook, but Soomin ripped it out of your hands and showed the drawing you had done of Yeosang to Hyunwoo before you could stop her.

“n/n met a boy today at the clinic.”

“He’s not actually a daemon,” you retorted at the look Hyunwoo gave you when he saw the drawing and you ripped the book back away from them before they could embarrass you any further, clutching it close to your chest. “The horns just kind of came on their own accord, I guess.”

“He called her pretty.”

“He was just being nice.” You narrowed your eyes at your sister, hoping she would get the hint and stop with the teasing. The last thing you needed was for Hyunwoo to join in too. God forbid any of them run into Yeosang because you would never hear the end of it from either of them. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? The chances of me seeing him again are a lot less than the chances of me dying in the next few days.”

“I guess that means you’ve had no luck with the mark then.” Hyunwoo’s face fell when you shook your head.

“I've tried everything I can think of, but nothing works,” Soomin replied. “Whatever magic was used to create this mark, it’s much more powerful than any rune or spell I can come up with to counteract.”

“I was afraid of that.” Hyunwoo sighed and sank down onto the couch next to you. “If it was a Black General who put it on her, then I doubted any of us would have enough power to counteract it. So, I made you this.”

“You made me a hair comb?” You couldn’t hide the confusion you felt when he handed you the object he had spent the last few hours working on. It was small, about the size of the palm of your hand, golden in color and shaped into the appearance of a plum blossom twig, the namesake of the city you had grown up in. “Wanting me to look my best at the gallows, I see, Woo. That's very thoughtful of you.”

“That’s not funny, y/n.” And by the expression on his face, the joke had gone over no better than the few you had run by Soomin earlier in the night. “And it’s not just a hair comb, it’s a weapon.”

“A weapon? Why would I need a weapon, Woo?” Your brows furrowed, more confused than ever as your fingers ran over the teeth of the comb. It was beautiful, the full extent of Hyunwoo’s masterwork on display. On the back, just below the branch were three small engraved runes.

“It uses the magic in your blood to transform into a dagger.” Hyunwoo took the comb back out of your hand to demonstrate, plucking his finger with one of its teeth. Just as he explained, the comb rearranged itself into a dagger with a blade around six inches in length. “When you want to turn it back, you just press the button at the bottom of the hilt.”

“It’s beautiful, Woo, but that still doesn’t explain why you’re giving this to me.” You took the comb back from his hands, once again admiring the handiwork of your brother. His ability to work metals into any conceivable shape or pattern still amazed you to this day.

“We all know the position you’re in, y/n, and while I would normally suggest it would be best if you just kept your head down and do what they say, I can’t in good conscience just let them take you to your doom without a fighting chance.”

“I’m not a killer, Woo. If it comes down to it, I don’t know if-”

“I know, you’re much to kind than these humans deserve.” His face softened, and you finally saw this was no easier on him than it was on you. It was no easier on either of them than it was on you. And it a way, you had the easier end, for they would be the ones who would be forced to move on without you. “But I’ll feel much better knowing you have that with you than I would without it.”

“Thank you, Woo.” You attempted a smile, squeezing his hand as you accepted his gift without any other question or complaint. “Thank you, both of you. I don’t know what I would do without the two of you. It’s just a shame I managed to drag the you into this mess alongside me.”

The remainder of the night was bittersweet, filled with retellings of adventures from your youth. You sat bundled in a blanket next to the fire, head rested against Hyunwoo’s shoulder. Soomin had given up on figuring out a working rune at your request, and sat in the chair opposite of the two of you. And despite both her and Hyunwoo’s attempts to lighten the mood and get your mind onto better and more pleasant topics, you still noticed the glances they sent your way when they thought you weren’t looking.

You now understood why the daemon from so long ago had wanted you there with him. It was much easier coming to terms with your own death when you weren’t alone. It wasn’t quite as terrifying with someone at your side ushering reassurances that everything was going to be okay. Even if they weren’t true, it was still comforting to not have to face the unknown territory of death all on your own.

You felt your panic begin to grow as dawn arrived, but there was no knock on your door. And though your first thought was that they were just running behind with the current status of the war taking a higher priority, you couldn’t help but start to hold on to the small ray of hope as time continued to creep by and no one had come to collect you.

An hour passed. Followed by another. The sun was steadily in its ascent, and yet, here you were, still curled up on your couch. And though you were surprised by your sudden stroke of luck, all you could chalk it up to was that Suho had come through with his promise. Somehow, someway, he had convinced the council to either push back your interrogation or ignore the report altogether. Either way, you couldn’t help but begin to breathe a bit easier once the realization you just might be in the clear hit you.

Not knowing what else to do, you followed your siblings’ motions and decided to go ahead and head into work. The relief of not being summoned gave you a boost of energy through your sleepless night. For the first time since you had returned, you began to feel a bit more like your old self. The mark along your chest may have still remained, but your death didn’t feel so close anymore. Perhaps the others were right. Perhaps everything would end up okay.

The wind was chilly as you stepped outside, and with a genuine smile, you waved goodbye to each of your siblings as you started the familiar walk to the clinic. While you knew it was dangerous to rest on the idea the report had not gone through yet - they very well could be waiting for you at the clinic - you couldn’t help but embrace the fact you were still alive.

Your mind was running through the stock at the clinic as you walked, thinking of all the brewing that awaited you there from a day of being away. You were too preoccupied with the potions that needed restocked to notice the crowd that was filling up the street you took to get to work until you nearly ran straight into someone. Stumbling to a stop as you mumbled an apology, you finally noticed the large pool of people filling the street, followed by the metallic scent of blood.

Any relief you might have felt towards the day ran straight out of you in that moment. Following the direction of the crowd, you pushed your way through, ignoring any cursing directed towards you because of your actions and stating that you were a healer as an excuse to get closer. You were desperate to see what had happened, afraid someone was in need of your assistance, and yet terrified all the same for what awaited you on the other side.

Your heart nearly stopped at the scene that you stumbled into, face paling as you raised a hand to your mouth in an attempt to stifle the gag it pulled from you. You had seen a lot in your years as a healer, but none of it came close to the scene before you.

Her body had nearly been torn and mutilated beyond recognition, but there was no mistaking the person lying dead against a nearby building. And if her corpse wasn’t shocking enough, the message that had been written above her body in her own blood was, and you couldn’t stop the shiver of fear and disgust the sight brought you.

The pigs will pay for their crimes. Long live the golden king.

@layzfeelit @calirix @seonghwarizon @yunho0o0o0 @blglmgk01 @marievllr-abg @ddeonghwva @rosie-hao @malyxsoulpersonal @kirooz @violetpenguinkris @woosmaid @eggyomelet

a/n: i think i got everyone who asked to be on the taglist, but i very well could have made a mistake or missed someone, so please let me know if i did! (and sorry in advance)

#ateez x reader #ateez #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #jongho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fantasy au #yandere #yandere ateez

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o-sn4pple · 14 days

Note

i hope i speak for many when i say we *are* here for the furina fic

oh cool, here's the 4th chapter. i'd recommend going for the 5th and 6th chapter on ao3 here.

“How dare you act as if everything you’d done was justified!”

“Act? Act? I was justified! That bastard dared laid a hand on my brother-”

“Your brother was nothing more than a disgusting pedophile. He deserved to be put down-”

“He served his sentence in the Fortress of Meropiede, stayed well away from the city and any other human and continued his work in solitude. You were the one that encouraged your husband to go kill him. I was only returning the favor!”

Furina nearly giggles as the verbal confrontation continues, settling for kicking her feet so as to not drown out their arguments. A case in which a convicted pedophile is murdered by a high-ranking Maison Gardiennage before turning the gun on himself, upheld only by their surviving spouses. In cases like these, where both sides of the scale are stained with mud, she often finds herself perfectly content with whatever outcome Neuvillette decides. Even though it isn’t dramatic enough to save Fontaine from disaster, it does make for excellent drama.

At least, she assumes as much. When she glances at you, she finds your jaw wired tight, shoulders stiff and poised. Every part of you looks ready to escape the Opera Epiclese; she can only assume that her presence is keeping you trapped here.

It’s a first, and it’s enough for Furina to scoff, roll her eyes, and shout, “UGH! ENOUGH ALREADY!” Her voice thunders around the chamber, silencing the defendant and prosecutor at once. In his throne, Neuvillette opens his mouth to scold, but she is already springing out of her chair. “I’ve seen these trials a thousand times already. No matter what the verdict is, a grudge will be born. How boring!” With a swish of her skirt, the Archon spins on her toes to you, who has already dutifully risen to your feet. “Come along, my dear equerry. This trial has served as a suitable bedtime story.”

“As you wish, Lady Furina.”

The sudden transition from the warm, near stuffy heat of the Opera Epiclese to the chilled breeze in the courtyard makes Furina shiver, but she waltzes down the steps with determination while you keep pace. With everyone still inside, only the rush of the surrounding waterfalls breaks the silence. It is when you join her at the base of the Fountain of Lucine do you finally clear your throat.

“Was that trial truly so boring, Lady Furina?” you ask. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Furina scoffs and waves a hand before returning to rubbing her arms. “What enjoyment you must have seen was my anger. All that back-and-forth, spitting the same vitriol and baseless accusations? How trivial.” Her teeth are beginning to chatter, and she takes a deep, cold breath before huffing, “And you looked ready to explode if you sat there a moment longer.” Her cheeks warm from the admittance, but she puffs up further to glare at you. “You should be thanking me, really.”

You lift a brow, but that familiar, one-sided little smile finally breaks across your face, and you dramatically bow to her. “Ah, yes. Forgive me for not thanking you sooner, my Archon. How may I better express my gratitude?”

Furina rolls her eyes, but she still holds out her hand. “Your coat?”

Your scent envelops her, your warmth a blissful shield from the cold as you wrap the coat around her shoulders. Though you wear another long-sleeve underneath, Furina opts to hurry you along to the station under the excuse of truly being tired. It is still blissfully empty due to the trial, and as the Melusine activates the rudders, you sit to the Archon’s left, just far enough for her to mourn the distance. She wonders if she can risk scooting into your side, but when she eyes your face, she finds you staring into the distance.

“That trial must have really gotten to you, huh,” she finds herself saying. Apparently, she doesn’t say it soft enough, because you look at her in surprise. She flushes. “I-I just mean, it’s quite rare to see you so unsettled.”

You nod slowly and…well, Furina braces herself for some form of witty retort. The fact that you just return to staring makes her check the sky for thunder.

The skies are clear. The world must not be ending just yet.

Furina sits up and settles into her more authoritative tone. “Then it is only natural that I, Furina de Fontaine, offer an ear to soothe your worries. Tell me, my dear equerry, what is troubling you so?”

Your lips twitch, the faintest hint of a smile gracing your face as you chuckle. “It truly is nothing, my lady. I am just exhausted from having to sit through such a terrible trial.”

Ah. She recognizes that tone. Unfortunately, you have no physical injuries that she can force you into looking after, nor does it feel right to pry for information when there is another stranger present, even if it is only a Melusine. Perhaps if a door had been in the way, just like before when you had come to check on her…Furina purses her lips and harrumps. She really should consider that offer to build a confessional in the Palais Mermonia. Maybe then you’d finally feel okay with expressing your worries.

Still, she has learned one weakness of yours, and with you so distracted, Furina scuttles close to your side and sets a hand in your hair. You tense for only a second. As she begins to fuss with your hair, you sink into her palm and allow better access to your head.

After you are dismissed for the night, though, Furina’s mind returns to the earlier trial. It will take some time for a report to be processed by the clerks, but she doesn’t bother waiting. The second Neuvillette is in his office, she comes strolling right in with her head held high.

“Oh?” Neuvillette looks up from his papers with surprise. “Good morning, Lady Furina. I did not realize you could be up this early.”

Furina nearly trips over herself in her haste to glare at the Iudex. “I am perfectly capable of rising when the occasion calls for it!” Granted, the last time she had, she ended up promoting you to make up for the mess it caused. But that isn’t important! “I am here to ask you some questions about my precious equerry.”

Neuvillette blinks and slowly sets the paper aside. “Are you rescinding their promotion?”

“What? No!” Furina casually pushes aside the stack of paperwork as tall as your broadsword is wide and perches on his desk. “I was just curious about why you decided to hire them. I imagine such an important title demanded much effort to find a suitable candidate.”

Neuvillette’s expression barely changes as he picks the paper back up. “No, quite the opposite.”

Furina’s puffed chest deflates as she gawks at him. “W-What?”

“They were the only candidate I had in mind when considering a personal bodyguard for you,” he continues casually, eyes flicking across his report. “Much of the effort came from processing the correct paperwork.”

…huh? You were the only candidate? She knows you had quite the reputation garnered by your fearsome strength, but had that been enough to catch Neuvillette’s attention? Surely not. There had to be more than that. When she asks as much, Neuvillette just looks up through his lashes and sighs.

“There is, but considering the time,” he says while setting his report atop of the mountain of papers to Furina’s right, “I doubt I will be able to provide you the attention you desire. Would their profile suffice?”

Your profile? Furina bites her tongues in hopes of stopping her flush. Of course! How could she forget? As Archon, she has direct access to all sorts of private information, and those who work directly for the Fontainian government waive their right to privacy the day they start working.

“Tch, of course I know that,” she huffs as Neuvillette hunts down your records in his shelves. “I was hoping you’d indulge me with your company. You’ve been so busy!”

“And you have your equerry for this reason.” Neuvillette sets an oddly thin folder beside Furina before scooping up the stack of papers next. “Leave the folder on my desk when you are done. I will put it away when I return.”

Now alone in his office, Furina takes a shaky, grounding breath. Your name is scrawled in dried ink on the tab, fanciful curls and sharp lines. Neuvillette must have noted it himself. She is greeted with a basic profile when she opens the file: name, age, date of birth, and current occupation. Medical and mental history demark no outstanding concerns, and your service to Fontaine is met with glowing reviews.

Then she reaches your family history and finds a single line that repeats over and over in her head.

‘ Trained by Vautrin and Carole, referred to as Master and Sister. ’ That’s it. No mention of a mother or father.

Still, she knows those names. How could she not? The former Captain of the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol who murdered five Fontanian elites after they had driven the Medal of Honor recipient Melusine to suicide to repent for a crime she did not commit. It’d been an exhilarating trial that brought tears to her eyes when Vautrin had screamed and cursed Neuvillette for his impartiality.

She didn’t bother to look any deeper into it once the verdict had passed. She didn’t feel the need to back then. Now, she has the student of Vautrin and Carole as her equerry and feels guilt bubble in her throat. How terrible must that feel, to attend to the every need of the Archon that represents the system that took away your only Master and Sister?

No wonder you had felt so uncomfortable during last night’s trial. Two sides of the scale are stained with blood, just like before.

Furina’s fingers curl, curiosity staining her thoughts like ink dropped in water. This specific folder had been Neuvillette’s personal report on you for the onboarding process, but there was bound to be more elsewhere in the Palais Mermonia about your family, especially if you’re an orphan. Granted, the foster care system isn’t…perfect, but part of onboarding included a complete background check, family history included. Why wouldn’t Neuvillette include that in this file?

Though…why should it matter? She understands now why you’d been so upset over the case. She has no excuse to pry any deeper.

And yet she finds herself strutting back into the office, poking her head behind the front desk. The fresh-faced Melusine that Neuvillette had hired to man the front is already working away, reorganizing the desk the last clerk had ruined in protest of being ‘replaced’. Furina doesn’t actually remember her name, but she is as sweet and caring as any other Melusine, so Furina feels no fear when she hands over the proper form to request a person’s family records.

The Melusine just cocks her head and says, “My apologies, Lady Furina, but those are classified.”

“Aha.” Furina’s smile twitches. “Excuse me?”

“Classified.” The Melusine slips the form back to her with a grimace. “It is very sensitive information, so if you truly need to view it, it may be best to ask him directly.”

“Ask who what?”

Furina denies yelping when you speak up from the opposite side of the counter, but she does whirl around too quickly to look anything other than suspicious. “I-Hah-Wha-What are you doing here so early?!”

“I…believe I should be asking you that question, my lady. I am normally here to prepare breakfast,” you say, brow lifting. “I assume you are getting a headstart on today’s tasks?��

Very unlike you, Furina mentally finishes for you. She smoothes out her uniform and lifts her head. “There are times where even I must lend myself to my people, no? Besides, I was only looking for some files.”

You hum and walk around the desk. “Then return to your room, my lady. I will fetch whatever you need.”

Furina flushes, grabbing your wrist just as you pick up the request form. “W-Wait-”

Her protest goes unheard. Your face goes unnaturally blank as the Melusine says, “Worry not, sister.” She reaches over to pat your hand. “I have already told Lady Furina that they are classified.”

Furina stares at your face, pulse climbing the longer you remain silent. Frantically, her mind begins to prattle off excuses: she is the Archon, she is your boss, she has every right to know your secrets! In the other, broken, fragmented mind that hides in the darkness of her bedroom, she begs for forgiveness: she just wanted to help, she wants to know you, she wants what she can never reciprocate. How selfish. How selfish!

Your silence finally breaks with a soft sigh, eyes falling shut. When they open, you look as calm and composed as you always do, nodding to the Melusine. “Thank you, Sedene, I appreciate that. I will continue preparations for breakfast, then.” You squeeze Furina’s hand and pry it from your wrist, then nod once more. “Please excuse me.”

It is the most polite Furina has ever heard you, and as you disappear up the lift to her floor, her vision begins to blur.

“L-Lady Furina?” Sedene gasps. “You’re crying!”

Furina blinks through her tears, finger numb as she brushes it away. “Ah, n-no, no. My body must be reacting to a truly dreadful prayer at the Fountain of Lucine. Someone must be in…terrible pain.”

Sedene tutts and grabs the request for your family documents, crumpling it in her palms. “How awful.”

Yes, Furina thinks as she chases after you. How awful indeed.

#genshin impact #genshin furina x reader #snapple drabbles

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ladythornofrivia · 1 year

Text

Cigarette Girl

Pair: Rindou x Reader

(Warning: Mature Content and Adultery)

(If you're under 18, I'm sorry but you can't read this)

Author’s Note: I hope you don't mind a short chapter. I'm still doing my best on writing the story. I'll be taking a permit test tomorrow! In the mean time, enjoy this chapter I wrote. (Note: Report if someone decides to steal the synopsis and my story. And notify me. Thank you) ❤️

Prologue: Good Boys in Hell

Next Chapter

"Rin, you're so good," a girl moaned into his ear with a heavy, sluggish breath.

Rindou was an exception when it comes to romance. He'll buy anything the girls ever wanted. Gucci, Versace, Dolce and Gabanna, Chanel--designer bags and shoes and skimpy dresses. Everything the girls asked for, he fetched it without an objection.

With every favor he gives, they give him back with their slick and warm folds, preparing just for him. Like a gift. But he knew that these girls he 'dated', are superficial--he's nothing but a walking bank to them whenever they wanted him to desposit money for them.

He'd do it over and over. And as always, girls leave him--whether a break up, or just ghost him, None ever gave him a call or text. Not a single gratitude or a goodbye kiss.

Just a complete space of wasting his time and attention for people who are manipulating him for money and showering adoration--everything was an act. Girls give him pleasure, yet a ghostly pain seared in him for a moment before returning back to his usual self and lifestyle established upon his present moment.

Nothing is genuine, only fiction.

A flesh for woman to man, and man to woman, is just a final trick on the sleeve to prove that expectations in reality is nothing more than a purely work of a distant illusion, confessions and professing love is...impossible.

With a leg heavily lifted and propped it over Rindou's shoulder, his cock thursted completely inside the girl's entrance, warm and tight; her nipples clenched around Rindou's finger tips, squeezing in between them. The girl's muffled moans vibrated against his pillow, and the slick folds tightened around his thrusting cock. With his hand, he shoved the girl on her backside against the bed, pressing chest to chest--flesh to flesh--as he pushed the other girl's leg far and wide while clinging her other leg prepped onto his shoulder.

It was dark out, a quiet night. Ran and the others were at the meeting; Rindou decided to take a break, so what better way to end the night than fucking someone.

"Harder, Rindou," the girl pleaded with a pleasuring cry.

His current girlfriend, Aoi, hasn't get enough of Rindou. Unlike the other girls, they lasted in six months of dating, and exchanges of getting to know someone that's close enough to be authentic.

They've been dating for six months; they've been exchanging intercourses in six months. Though whenever he's busy and not in a mood for sexual activity, he often spends his eyes and ears on his work. A source of income is meant to kill time--to earn hard work and recognition, as an advisor, as an established member in the group. Centralizing his proper life and his status upon him meant well. He won't be poor and helpless.

Walls rattled upon Aoi's voice screaming his name as his thrusts grew faster and imbalanced--rugged and harsh.

Aoi's slick folds doused his lengthy cock as he felt himself shattered; semen seeped through the condom.

Her moans diminished when Rindou seperated himself from her and got out of the bed.

"Where are you going," she asked, hand outstretched. "Come and sleep with me, Rin-rin." Her round eyes lulled; she forced them to stay open.

Rindou pulled the used condom out from his dick and threw it in the bathroom trash.

"Where are you going," she asked again, more demanding as she saw him changing his clothes.

"Out," he said. "You got what you wanted, Aoi. Go back at your place."

"Not without you," she said, objected. “You’re always busy with them! Why can’t you spend more time with me?”

"Take a cab," he said, slamming the door that made Aoi jolted her from her exhaustion. "I'll see you whenever."

"But--"

"Bye!" his voice shouted outside the hall, his heavy footsteps was gone by the time he went on the lower floors of the luxurious penthouse.

Tired yet restless.

Certain yet unsure.

Rindou is many things, but patience and love isn't one of them.

*~~*~~*

"How do you even put up with her?" Ran asked, swirling his red wine from his favorite champagne glass, dropped down to the empty seat beside Rindou.

"Hello to you, too," Rindou shot back, drinking his third glass of wine at a 3-star Michellin restaurant.

"Seriously it has been six months seeing this girl," Ran replied, "are you planning on settling down?'

Rindou's calm and stoic expression molded with disgust. "I'm trying to get her off of me if I give her what I want."

Like any girl wants from me.

"Why not drop her?"

"She wanted me to join her into my bed," Rindou remarked, brows scrunched in annoyance. "I'll find a way to tell her off."

"Like, after marriage?"

Rindou settled his glass down. "Fuck off, Ran, you know what I mean. She's not good at anything else other than bed. I'll find a way to break up with her. If she pulls any shit, I'll leave it to Sanzu. Sanzu knows how to take care of noisy and lousy girls like her. Besides, I hate marriage."

"You used to dream of wanting a family with someone special. Guess you lost your V-card in the process."

“I have a condom on,” Rindou defended.

“And I’m a virgin! Every one of the girls are to rejoice once they learn it.”

Rindou knew what his older brother were saying is lies and sarcasm.

Ran scoffed, shaking as his head lowered, his smile unrestrained. “That doesn’t matter.”

Rindou shot an incredulous look. "Same goes for you."

"Yes, but I'd rather be happy and not get married than being sad and get married. Besides, marriage is nothing but just a fancy decoration on moving to the next step--the next thing you know--boom! Divorce! And half of your belongings gets stolen, and the person spreads lies about you being the bad guy. Marriages can scar anyone for life, whether life or death, divorce is inescapable, unless being single.”

"We're part of Bonten. We sometimes have to do bad things."

"Not if you don't want to get caught."

"That's why we have Sanzu. He's good at disposing everybody."

"It's settled, then." Ran slammed his flat palm on Rindou's back. "A toast," he said, raising his glass. "To victory."

"To victory,” Rindou responded with disinterest.

Their glasses clinked before eating their fancy meal for tonight's supper. And everyone Rindou knew arrived, buzzing about their personal business.

At this rate, Rindou doesn't know how to get rid of a clueless woman. Good boys in hell is what made women trampled upon Bonten’s feet—merciless and vain—is what associates Bonten.

Rindou is a good boy, and somewhere in his mind, whatever he may be thinking, he’ll find a right moment to give her hell.

Taglist: @colored-tr-panels @galactict3a @mrssano04 @f1yh1gh @onyx-blossom @glamourkills18

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bestkage · 1 year

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“Don’t trust me.” for the prompt game!

prompt game!

“So, uh, Mr. Blue Spirit guy– or girl–“

Zuko represses a heavy sigh threatening to escape lungs, swallows it as he throws another glance around the dark corner.

If he had known saving the water tribe boy from the Dai Li he was tailing would result in one-sided casual small talk and unfunny quips every other minute, he would’ve left him where he’d found him like a tarnished coin stuck to a wad of chewing gum.

Alas, leaving him would’ve done more harm than good in Zuko’s kinda-sorta grand scheme of things. Even if the grand scheme was only comprised of “get dressed”, “sneak out”, and “follow”. Leaving behind the water tribe boy would spark vigilantism in the Avatar and Zuko had no doubt he’d find Zuko and his uncle in the outer city walls.

“I have two things to say and I promise I’ll shut up.” The water tribe boy says. Zuko feels a vein near his temple twitch and he doesn’t bother turning his head to look at the other boy, keeps his gaze down the alley even though the coast has been clear for a good two minutes. His silence does nothing to deter the water tribe boy. “One, thank you for getting me out of that whole thing back there. I totally could’ve taken them all myself but I…left my weapon.”

Zuko can hear the petulant disappointment in the boy’s voice and good. Why a friend of the Avatar would leave without his weapon is a great question.

“Two, do you think you could uh…maybe let go of my hand now?“

Zuko feels heat crowd to visage as he realizes that he- in fact -is still holding the boy’s hand. He drops it like it’s burning to the touch even though the only thing he can feel burning is him.

“Okay, and secret third thing-“

Zuko audibly groans this time.

“Can I just say how cool it is to be here with the Blue Spirit. I thought you were a myth and that Aang was making you up. Aang’s the Avatar, just so you know. Like, the name of the Avatar. His name is Aang. Anyway, you’re like, a legend. A hero in the night and all. Not that I’m a fan or anything but I think that’s pretty cool. Can I actually get you to sign my-“

Zuko turns to look at him this time and it freezes the boy where he was reaching into his ridiculous satchel to grab something for Zuko to supposedly sign.

They share a beat of awkward silence and Zuko can’t help the way his fingers twitch in agitation.

The boy’s cheeks darken and he holds his hand up in surrender.

“Okay, sure, I get it. Not the time.” He says and Zuko’s only slightly amused at the embarrassment in his voice. Slightly. “So uh, is the coast like, clear and all?”

Zuko peers back around the corner. It’s as clear as it was five minutes ago so he gives a small nod. As if his judgement wasn’t enough, the boy peers comically around the corner, big head and prominent ears showing themselves in a way that’s so far from discreet that Zuko’s sort of glad he’d held the boy tethered to his hand his entire time.

“Oh. Okay. Cool.” The boy says, stepping around the corner and Zuko lets himself only slightly relax. He is in the presence of an enemy after all. Even if the enemy is bashfully kicking his foot in the gravel like a freshly rescued damsel in distress getting ready to confess their love. “So I guess this is it.”

Zuko nods again and finds himself captured by some awkward force lingering in the air.

The boy is still standing there, idle only in body but eyes darting as if he still has something to say.

“One day, I’ll return the favor.”

For some reason, that shocks Zuko and now he’s the one idling awkwardly.

Zuko’s “saved” a good bit of people that either were in the way of his plans or didn’t necessarily get in the way of them either but this is the first time he’s gotten something other than gratitude from the act.

He supposes that repaying the “legendary” Blue Spirit isn’t the most formidable thing that can be done since the water tribe boy is quite literally a companion of the 112 year old Avatar.

It’s a pact. One made with the most unlikely of candidates.

And it’s honorable.

Something Zuko lacks.

So as the boy gives a final gesture of his hand in a goodbye, Zuko finds himself stuck in the dark corner of the alleyway and the only thing that crosses his mind is,

“Don’t trust me.”

Because the next time Zuko dons the Blue Spirit disguise, he can’t guarantee that he’ll be saving the boy.

He may be striking him down and watching betrayal cloud blue eyes.

#this was fun!!#thank you so much for sending me a prompt!#I could literally cry tears of joy!#zukka #my writing #side note- I love your fics btw ahahshhs

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tawakkull · 11 months

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ISLAM 101: Spirituality in Islam: Part 166

Shukr (Thankfulness)

Literally meaning gladness felt about and gratitude shown for the good done to one, Sufis use shukr to mean using one’s body, abilities, feelings, and thoughts bestowed upon one to fulfill the purpose of his or her creation: being thankful to the Creator for what He has bestowed. Such thankfulness is to be reflected in the person’s actions or daily life, in speech and in the heart, by admitting that all things are directly from Him, and by feeling gratitude for them.

One may thank God verbally by only depending upon His power and strength, as well as upon His bestowal or withholding of favors, and acknowledging that all good and bounties come from Him. As He alone creates all good, beauty, and bounty, as well as the means by which they can be obtained, only He sends them at the appropriate time.

Since He alone determines, apportions, creates, and spreads [all our provisions] before us as “heavenly tables,” He alone deserves our gratitude and thanks. Attributing our attainment of His bounties to our own or to another’s means or causes, in effect thereby proclaiming that He is not the true Owner, Creator, and Giver of all bounty, is like giving a huge tip to the servant who lays before us a magnificent table and ignoring the host who is responsible for having it prepared and sent to us. Such an attitude reflects sheer ignorance and ingratitude, as mentioned in: They know only the outward face of the life of the world (apparent to them), and they are completely unaware of (its face looking to) the Hereafter (30:7).

True thankfulness in one’s heart is manifested through the conviction and acknowledgment that all bounties are from God, and then ordering one’s life accordingly. One can thank God verbally and through one’s daily life only if personally convinced, and if one willingly acknowledges that his or her existence, life, body, physical appearance, and all abilities and accomplishments are from God, as are all of the bounties obtained and consumed. This is stated in: Do you not see that God has made serviceable unto you whatsoever is in the skies and whatsoever is in the earth, and has loaded you with His bounties seen or unseen? (31:20), and: He gives you of all that you ask Him; and if you reckon the bounties of God, you can never count them (14:34).

Bodily thankfulness is possible by using one’s organs, faculties, and abilities for the purposes for which they were created, and in performing the duties of servanthood falling on each. On the other hand, some have stated that verbal thankfulness means daily recitation of portions of the Qur’an, prayers, supplications, and God’s Names. Thankfulness by the heart means that one is certain or convinced of the truth of the Islamic faith and straightforwardness. Practical or bodily thankfulness, according to others, means observing all acts of worship. Since thankfulness relates directly to all aspects or branches of belief and worship, it is regarded as half of the faith. With respect to this inclusiveness, it is considered together with patience, meaning that according to some people, thankfulness and patience are considered as the two halves of religious life.

In His eternal Speech, God Almighty repeatedly commands thankfulness and, as in the phrases so that you may give thanks (2:52) and God will reward the thankful (3:144), presents it as the purpose of creation and of sending religion. In such verses as: If you are thankful I will add more unto you. But if you show ingratitude My punishment is terrible indeed (14:7), He has promised abundant reward to the thankful and threatened the ungrateful with a terrible punishment. One of His own Names is the All-Thanking, which shows us that the way to obtain all bounties or favors is through thankfulness, which He returns with abundant reward. He exalts the Prophets Abraham and Noah, upon them be peace, saying: (Abraham was) thankful for His bounties (16:121) and Assuredly, he (Noah) was a grateful servant (17:3).

Although thankfulness is a religious act of great importance and significant “capital,” few people truly do it: Few of My servants are thankful (34:13). Very few people live in full awareness of the duty of thankfulness, saying: Shall I not be a servant grateful (to my Lord)?, and try their best to perform their duty of thankfulness and order their lives accordingly.

The glory of humanity, upon him be peace and blessings, whose soles swelled because of his long supererogatory prayer vigils (tahajjud), was a matchless hero of thankfulness. On one occasion, he told his wife ‘A’isha: Shall I not be a servant grateful to God? He always thanked God and recommended thankfulness to his followers, and prayed to God every morning and evening, saying: O God. Help me mention You, thank You, and worship You in the best way possible.114

Thankfulness is the deep gratitude and devotion of one who, receiving His bounties or favors, directs these feelings toward the One Who bestows such blessing, and the subsequent turning to Him in love, appreciation, and acknowledgment. The above Prophetic saying expresses this most directly.

People are thankful for many things: the provisions, home, and family with which they have been favored; wealth and health; belief, knowledge of God, and the spiritual pleasures bestowed on them; and the consciousness with which God favored them so they could open themselves to the knowledge that they must be thankful. If those who are thankful for such a consciousness use their helplessness and destitution as “capital” and thank Him continuously, they will be among the truly thankful. It is narrated from God’s Messenger, upon him be peace and blessings, that

The Prophet David, upon him be peace, asked God Almighty: O Lord. How can I be thankful to You, since thanking You is another favor that requires thankfulness? The Almighty responded: Just now you have done it.

I think this is what is expressed in: We have not been able to thank You as thanking You requires, O All-Thanked One.

One can be thankful by recognizing and appreciating Divine favors, for feeling gratitude to the One Who bestows favors depends to a great extent on due recognition and appreciation of them. Belief and Islam (including the Qur’an) lead one to recognize and appreciate favors and thus turn to God in gratitude. One can be more aware of these favors, and that they are given to us by God out of His mercy for our helplessness and inability to meet our own needs, in the light of belief and Islamic practices. This awareness urges us to praise the One Who bestows upon us those favors and bounties that we consume. Awakening to the meaning of: As for the favor of Your Lord, proclaim it (93:11), we feel a deep need to be grateful and thankful.

Everyone is naturally inclined to praise the good and the one who does good to him or her. However, until this feeling is aroused there is no awareness of being favored by someone else, just as fish are not conscious of living in water. Furthermore, these favors may be attributed to the means and causes used to obtain them. If it is blindness and deafness not to see and appreciate the favors we continuously receive, then it must be an unforgivable deviation to attribute them to various blind, deaf, and unfeeling means and causes. The Prophetic statements: One who does not thank for the little does not thank for the abundant, and: One who does not thank people does not thank God, express blindness and deafness to favors and remind us of the importance of being thankful. Such verses as: Mention Me so that I will mention you, and give thanks to Me and do not be ungrateful to Me (2:152), and: Worship Him and give Him thanks (29:17) tell us that it is God Who truly deserves to be thanked, and also remind us of His absolute Unity.

Thankfulness can be divided into three categories. The first category consists of thankfulness for those things that everyone, regardless of religion or spiritual attainment, desires. The second category consists of thankfulness for those things that, although apparently disagreeable or displeasing, reveal their true nature to those who can see them as favors requiring gratitude.

The third category of thankfulness is that kind performed by those who are loved by God and view favors or bounties from the perspective of the One Who bestows them. They spend their lives in spiritual pleasure that begins in observing God’s manifestation of Himself through His favors, and take the greatest pleasure in worshipping Him. Although they are always enraptured with the spiritual delight flowing from their love of Him, they are extremely careful of their relationship with Him. Such people constantly strive to preserve the Divine blessings that have been bestowed upon them, and always search for what they have missed. While they constantly deepen their belief, love, and gratitude along the way toward Him, the “nets of their sight” are filled with different blessings and gifts.

O God! Include us among Your servants whom You love, have made sincere, and have brought unto You. Grant peace and blessings to our Master, the Master of those loved, made sincere, and brought near unto You.

#allah #god #islam #muslim #quran #revert #conevrt #convert islam #revert islam #reverthelp #revert help #revert help team #help #islamhelp #converthelp #how to convert to islam #convert to islam #welcome to islam

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questionsonislam · 5 months

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What does worship mean? Why do we worship?

Worship means to fulfill the orders of Allah, to keep away from His prohibitions, and to act in accordance with His consent. As for the issue why we worship:

* First of all, we worship because it is the purpose of our creation because Allah created us, human beings, so that we would know Him, believe in Him and worship Him.

This issue is stated as follows in the Quran:

"I have only created jinn and men, that they may serve Me." (adh-Dhariyat, 56)

As believers, we act in accordance with our purpose of creation stated in the verse and try to fulfill our duty of worshipping our Creator.

* Furthermore, we worship Allah to thank Him for so many bounties he gave us.

We thank somebody who gives us a small gift several times; if we do not thank Allah, who gives us so many bounties and gifts, by worshipping, we will definitely have shown ingratitude. We try to fulfill our duty of worship faultlessly to avoid such ingratitude.

Allah created us out of nothing, equipped us with thousands of feelings and organs, created everything that those feelings and organs need and he gave us humanity, belief and guidance along with life.

It is stated in the Quran that the bounties of Allah are endless and that it is impossible to count them as follows:

"If ye would count up the favors of Allah, never would ye be able to number them: for Allah is Oft-Forgiving, Most Merciful." (an-Nahl, 18).

What we need to do for endless bounties is to know and love God Almighty, who is the owner of those bounties, to show that we love Him by worshipping and to show Him our thanks and gratitude in return for the bounties He gives us.

* In fact, our worship and thanks are not sufficient at all for the bounties given to us in this world. As a matter of fact, Allah prepared greater bounties for us in Paradise if we believe in Him and worship Him and He promised us endless bliss in Paradise. In that case, the bounties that Allah promised us to give in the hereafter are completely His special favor, grace and grant. They are not given to us in return for our worship and thanks.

The Prophet explains this issue as follows:

"Your deeds (worship) cannot take you to Paradise. My deeds cannot take me to Paradise, either. It can be possible only through the mercy of Allah."

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matenrou-fan · 2 years

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Could I request Lucifer and Diavolo with an ice sculptor s/o sculpting a statue of them as a gift?

Lucifer and Diavolo with an ice sculptor NB! s/o

NBreader, fluff, just wholesome stuff;

-He's quite amused.

-You humans are always coming up with such interesting hobbies!

-"So you like ice sculptures? Haha, that sounds interesting..! Now I wanna try it myself too!" - he giggles and then looks at you with a playful smirk - "Can I get a private lesson from you, darling?"

-He's actually curious so be prepared for a bunch of questions. Aren't you feel too cold for working with ice for long time? How you ended up with this hobby? Maybe you have photos of your work that you made before you get into Devildom?

-Diavolo always wants to know more about the human world and humans themself, but also, as it's your hobby, he is even more interested.

-If you need some craft tools for new sculpture don't be shy to ask him as he doesn't mind to spend any amount of money for your needs. Your face just so cute when he sees this little sparkles of happiness in your eyes..!

-And when one day you ask him to follow you and then show a statue of him as a present, he's so flattered.

-As a future kind of Devildom he's got used to getting many presents since childhood and he's probably a little bit spoiled but no other gift, even the most expensive one, touched his heart as much as your work.

-Thoughts about you spending so much time making something so great just for him.. It's really hard to hide his red face now, when this tickle feeling keep growing in his chest as he gently holds your hands.

-"S/o, i.. thank you.." - Diavolo looks away, feeling as his heart start beating faster and faster - "It's a little bit hard to put all joy that I feel right now in words, but I'm really appreciate your gift and all this effort you put in this.. I love you.."

-Maybe he can't explain it with words, but maybe some kisses will help him to show his gratitude?

-So.. Ice sculptures?

-"I'm quite surprised, s/o.." - he can't help but smirk, looking at your precious face - "Someone like you working with ice.. Every time I touching your hands it's feels like I can feel the warmth of your heart through skin.. Don't you afraid to melt all your works with that pretty arms?"

-He's actually happy that you have something you put your passion on and always ready to support you.

-So expect some little presents, just some instruments and devices that can help you. Lucifer wants you to be happy here, in Devildom, so helping you with your hobby is just small amount of things he's ready to do for you.

-And when you tell him that today you gonna be the one to surprise him with a present, he's amused. You make him homemade cookies? Maybe bought something small and cute?

-He didn't expect to see himself as a sculpture, so he would be a stunned for a moment. Did you actually made this all be yourself? It's amazing..

-Oh how much Lucifer wants to act in his causal playful behavior, but he can't. Despite he's teasing comment before you didn't melt this ice. But his heart? Yeah, totally.

-"I.. I don't have any words.." - he mumble with furrowed brows. Just why he can't control this blush on his cheeks? - "That's was really heartful from your side, s/o, thank you.. I think I will never forget this present, even after centuries.. I love you.."

-Mm? Did you just said your hands now a little bit cold? Oh, don't you worry and get closer to Lucifer, as he have some ideas how to warm you up and also how to return the favor..

#obey me lucifer x mc #obey me luci x reader #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #diavolo obey me #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #lord diavolo #obey me diavolo #lucifer x reader #lucifer x gender neutral reader #obey me imagines

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gojosatoruwifey · 1 year

Text

ㅡRizz the Male Lead

✑ been obsessing danmei lately especially svsss (◕▽◕✿) and this is birthday gift for myself though i wrote this for fun

✿ warning/s: self-ship , original character(s) , swearing , the gist is a god turned into her opposite gender and she cant escape , very short fic

✿ character/s: chung myung/cheong myeong , yao li jun

The blaring alarm echoed loudly beside his ears. Startled, his light robes fluttered as he turned to see a floating screen. He woke up with a body of the manly version of himself—long strands of snow hair and fair eyelashes and his muscular, broad body—an unfamiliar environment and only his traveling companion. Now, the wandering god is even more bewildered than the last time he or she was a mortal.

『 SYSTEM NOTICE:

NEW CHARACTER

CLICK HERE FOR CHARACTER AND BACKGROUND INFORMATION

CLICK HERE FOR NOVEL INFORMATION

CLICK HERE FOR OTHER QUESTIONS 』

His blue depths of orbs with a shade of a flower akin to a myrtle tree stare wide-eyed at the panel. He stared confusingly as the woman that serves him also looked at it with the same emotion.

『 IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:

MAIN MISSION: SWITCH TO DANMEI GENRE 』

“HUH?!?! WHAT DANMEI?!” The wandering god is familiar with the genre, having an interest in reading various kinds of books she has bought and received. That is to say, she is also a witness for some couples in a historical setting as she is traveling in different worlds and universes and yet she never experienced to be placed in such a spotlight. She lives a long, long, long life but she supposes there will always be surprises here and there.

『 SYSTEM: Congratulations, Your Abyssal Majesty! You are inside your favorite murim novel “Return of the Mount Hua Sect”. You are to be tasked to secure the plot according to the wishes of your contract partner.

DOWNLOADING DETAILS: 15%.....60%...100%....DING!

NOVEL: Return of the Mount Hua Sect

CHARACTER: Yao Li Jun

MALE LEAD: Cheong Myeong 』

He gasped in shock. Throwing himself to the panel—fortunately, it can be touched like an ipad—and pointed at the familiar name written. “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS??? I DON’T REMEMBER AGREEING TO ANY CONTRACT DAMN IT! AND I’M CONTENT WITH THE PLOT OF ROTMHS THANK YOU VERY MUCH!”

He breathed in and shouted again with newfound energy. “CHEONG MYEONG DOESN’T NEED A ROMANTIC PARTNER!!! YOU TELL ME WHOSE FUCKING IDEA IS THIS???!!!”

『 SYSTEM: Your Abyssal Majesty can contact her contract partner after completing three required missions (excluding: Main Mission). 』

“FUCK!!!”

『 SYSTEM: Required Mission (1/3): Help the Male Lead, Required Mission (2/3): Earn the Mount Hua Sect’s favor, Required Mission (3/3): Receive the Male Lead’s token of appreciation 』

“I’m the Abyssal Majesty and someone dares to play tricks on me…” Yao Li Jun sighed dejectedly and his company, the always trusted companion, Nirnasha, consoled him with, “Your Majesty, please, compose yourself. If not for the barrier I formed, you might have startled the people outside.”

“Oh, right. Thank you for that.” He nodded with a complicated expression on his face. ”My skills are limited. I can’t escape in this dimension no matter I try to summon a space portal and I can’t contact any gods that I know.” He clicks his tongue. “…what restriction is this.”

“Your words are absolute, Your Majesty. This contract partner of yours might have used this against you and thus, you’re unable to act how you wishes. I suggest to familiarize yourself with this situation first, like asking the system for the necessary details. Please don’t lose your composure this time, Your Majesty.”

Yao Li Jun almost wanted to thank Nirnasha when all gratitude went down the drain when she scolded him the second time about composure but he chooses not to utter any words anymore as she has a point. Nirnasha is what one can call the personification of her or rather his rationality. She is a perfect servant in her assigned role of assisting the young wandering god during his duties or travels.

“This is the first time this servant is interested in your new endeavor, Milord.” Nirnasha says as she has a rare mischievous look in her dark blue eyes.

“Nirnasha, you might have forgotten who you are talking to.”

#geru.selfshipideas #return of the mount hua sect #return of the blossoming blade #rotmhs #rotbb #cheong myeong #chung myung #original characters #danmei fic #danmei #oc

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willshipanything-blog · 1 year

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Breaking the Rules- Chapter 10

Next chapter up! Some very cute sibling-type moments for Y/N and Max here, and things start to look up! That is, until certain secrets start to come to light....

Usual warnings, Minors DNI, full tags on AO3, along with the fic there if you prefer.

Full chapter index here!

Chapter 10- The Empty House

You had dreaded what the morning might bring after confessing to Al what you had learned about him, and him tearing open those wounds to retell his story. Especially since you’d spoken such cruel words. Words you knew had thrashed at Al’s psyche, stinging as any physical crack of a belt- even if Al had swallowed back the pain. But the night had ended on a sweet, apologetic note. And the morning after had brought even more apologies, your reassurances that you loved Al accompanied by a wanton need, those desires culminating in a wonderfully shameless scene of you on your knees before him.

He’d held you awhile afterwards, the pair of you drowsing in your sweaty, halcyon bliss before Al had to peel himself away to get ready for work. His promise to return the favor for your smutty little act soon enough left your toes curling, a slow stroke of his tongue up the curve of your neck a precursor to what he would do to you later. You just hoped the scarlet in your cheeks had dissipated by the time you dressed and padded out of the bedroom.

In the kitchen, Max had already seated himself at the breakfast table with a bowl of cereal and plate of toast in front of him. You gave a sincere, affirming nod in his direction as you entered; a silent signal that things were ok. No- they were better than ok, given all that had happened. Your straight-lipped face arched into a smile, which Max cheerfully returned.

“All good?” he asked brightly.

“All good!” you echoed in the same cheerful trill, grabbing a bowl and dropping onto the stool opposite Max. You shook the open cereal box above your bowl, not caring about the inevitable sugar rush as you helped yourself to a huge helping of Magic Puffs. Max nudged the milk carton across the table.

“Scout, I just wanted to say sorry. I know me yapping about all that stuff opened a whole fuckin’ can of worms, and I didn’t mean to lay it all on you, and then all this stuff with Al and-”

“Max,” you rebuked, irritated only by the fact Max felt the need to apologize at all, “You have nothing to be sorry for, ok? You needed to talk, and I was there to listen. Never feel guilty about trying to share your worries with me. That’s what friends are for.” Your hand had found its way atop Max’s, had reached over the table to give a reassuring squeeze. Max’s hand jerked beneath yours, as if a consoling touch was a foreign, almost painful gesture. Like skin touching a scalding stove rather than a warm embrace. He righted himself, looking up at you with those chocolate brown eyes.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Back to Christian names, you thought, Max must be serious. “It felt good- to talk, ya know? And you know you can do the same, right? Like, I know you said you didn’t wanna go over what happened to you, and I’ll absolutely respect that, Scout. But you can talk, if you’re ever feeling like you need to, ‘kay?”

You returned a small, silent smile that didn’t quite stretch to your suddenly watery eyes. Forcing the kind words to outweigh the guilt of the lies you’d created about your own past. A hand now moved on top of yours, Max’s turn to mirror your earlier gesture. It felt safe, soothing. The weight of his hand on yours, the warm palm and the fingers tapping consolatory against yours, only added to the guilt. The guilt, the absolute shame of realizing the horrors the Shaw brothers had endured, whilst pretending your own childhood had been filled with the same. Still, how truthful could you expect to be with Max without tearing your perfectly woven story to shreds? You murmured a vague statement in response.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Max. Thank you.” Your past was a deceit, but at least your gratitude for Max's kindness was genuine. You slid out your hand from between his, suddenly finding your cereal the most interesting thing in the world. Max retreated back to his own breakfast too, the silence in the kitchen perforated only by the clang of metal spoons against crockery and the crunch of cereal, as well as Max’s occasional slurping of milk.

“Jeez, dove, I didn’t realize how damn late it was, did y- oh, mornin' Max.” Al had surged into the kitchen, barely looking over to the table before he began yanking open cupboard doors in a frantic rush. You turned in your seat to see him upending every item in a low cupboard before retrieving a thermos, obviously taking his coffee to-go this morning.

“No time for breakfast?” you asked as he nimbly filled the flask from the luckily pre-prepared coffee machine.

“‘Fraid not,” he tutted, eyeing the cereal box on the table and the toast in front of Max, “Though I’m not sure a bowl of pure sugar really constitutes ‘breakfast’. I gotta run anyway, see you both later.” He planted a quick kiss on your cheek, and was halfway to standing when Max decided to join the fun.

“What, no kiss for your little brother?” he mock-pouted, double tapping his cheek in jest. Remarkably, Al did lean over, dispensing a kiss right where Max had indicated, even sounding out a theatrical ‘mwah’ before bolting from the room, leaving Max (and you) in stunned silence.

Al was already across the kitchen threshold before Max looked down, realizing his toast had been snatched from under his nose, looking at the empty plate in wide-mouthed disbelief.

“First rule of magic, Max,” you chuckled as the front door slammed shut, picturing the smug smile plastered on Al’s face. “Misdirection.”

After breakfast, you suggested your regular routine might get things back to normal after yesterday’s turmoil.

“So, we taking Samson out for a W-A-L-K?” You spelled the final word, having been bulldozed by the huge hound last time you suggested a walk out loud.

“Actually Scout, mind if we hold off for a little while? I saw an old buddy from high school yesterday, just bumped into him on the street. Well, he works as a cashier at Hill’s- you know, the grocery store- anyway, he said they were looking for people for the warehouse and so I gave him my number- well your number, so I might be getting a phone call soon and-” Max was effusing, but you’d gotten the gist of his ramblings, so graciously stopped him with your own ardor.

“Max, that's great! Why didn’t you say anything about it yesterday?”

“Well, things got a bit heavy with us down…” he gestured his head towards the basement door, silently reminding you both of the things Max had admitted to you in that oppressive stairwell, his heart pouring out, practically bleeding down the wooden steps. He carried on, calmer than before at the mention of the previous day’s events. “And I didn’t wanna tell Al yet, cause then I might get his hopes up and then might not even GET the damn job and he’d only be disappointed in me like usual.”

Max’s shoulder had slumped, his expression forlorn- a million miles from the animated fervor he’d shown not a minute earlier. What was it with the Shaw brothers and their ridiculously low self-esteem? Well, you actually did know the answer to that now. But you’d soon change that, in both of them.

“Max,” you sighed, not so subtly declaring your frustration at Max’s view of himself as a disappointment, “Al doesn’t think badly of you at all, ok? Especially now you’ve gotten yourself clean and are trying to do better. But we can wait until you get a definite job to tell him if it makes you feel better.” His discomfort transformed back into an earnest, appreciative smile at your assurance. “But I have a very good feeling about this, Max.”

“Yeah, to be honest, I’m feeling good about it too. Crazy who you can just bump into walking down the street, huh?”

“Crazy. Like it was fate or something.”

Things were looking up, and you were determined this upward trend would continue, holding onto the hope that things would carry on improving. For Al. For Max. For you. If they were happy, so were you- they were your family, after all. Max, your best friend and confidante, perhaps even a brother. And Al- well, he was your everything. Both your own and his happiness depended on the other, a beautiful symbiosis of soulmates. Your world had shrunk considerably these last several months- but if it was just the two of you ruling your own little world, you could content yourself with that.

Al first, then. You’d worried about your guilt potentially growing, burgeoning like an overgrown, unwanted weed since you’d spoken those stabbing words to him. When you’d alluded very clearly to the Grabber, even when Al was doing everything to extricate that monster from his life. But the days following didn’t feel tense or strained. A fresh slate, wiped clean of hurtful words that seemed forgotten and forgiven entirely. All that remained were evenings composed of tender embraces, sprawling on the couch in front of some old movie, and your nights together of needful passions, a blurred, blissful montage of skin and tongues and fingers and every type of licentious act you and Al pleased to enact. There were even a couple nights of your illicit Quiet Game, where your gross inability to stay silent ensured a few extra notches were carved into the mental tally. The only slate that hadn’t been wiped clean, that ever-increasing number filling you with an anticipatory thrill of things to come.

Yes, things with Al were good. Better than good- as perfect as it had ever been. Because he’d opened up, been honest about his past. No more secrets threatening to cleave you both apart like an axe hewing a log into two splintered parts. It was like your relationship had been built anew, on stronger foundations this time, sturdy and unwavering, ready to face any tide together.

Max was next on your agenda. His fateful meeting with an old friend came to fruition, and he managed to land that job. Although, you did cringe behind a couch pillow when he answered the phone; first in nervous anticipation, then in muted horror when he nearly slipped a ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ three or four times in conversation. But he hung up the phone wearing the biggest grin on his face, his dimples deeper than you’d ever seen. Samson hadn’t bowled you over that morning, but Max sure did when he launched a hug in your direction (more a football tackle, but you let him spin you round regardless).

On your belated walk that morning, Max was even more spirited than usual- a feat in itself- throwing around ideas and questions faster than you could process. When he posed a question to you about whether a trainee ‘Warehouse Operative’ would be allowed to ‘drive one of those forklift thingies’, you humored him with a hopeful, albeit aloof ‘yeah, maybe!’, closing your eyes for a moment and savoring the mental image of the outcome of such a decision. That painted a grin on your face almost as wide as Max’s.

“Anything in that one?”

“Nah, more of the same,” Max sighed dejectedly. You were still on your mission to help out in any way you could, and right now that determination was on finding Max the perfect place to move into. You’d both been apartment hunting, flicking through reams of newspaper ads, mostly promising far too few amenities for far too many dollars. “Too expensive, no pets, no pets, too far away, waaay outta my price range…” Max trailed off, silently mouthing the scores of apartment ads looking for something suitable- no mean feat with a limited budget and a 110-pound cane corso in tow.

“Max, you know you don’t have to move straight away, right? Me and Al aren’t kicking you out or anything- we do like you staying with us, you know!” You really did love having Max around, and it brought out that protective, brotherly side of Al that you adored, watching the two of them goof around and fight. Like any normal brothers who might have shared any normal childhood. Now that Max had started his job, you’d missed his company on the few weekdays he worked. You'd almost forgotten what it was like to spend the stretch of the workday home alone, so would gladly have Max stay on at the house for a time. On the plus side, you and Al were secretly glad Max had weekend shifts scheduled, having whole Saturdays to yourselves again!

“Shit, rentals really don’t like pets, do they?” Max tutted, throwing down the newspaper on the coffee table and sinking into the couch beside you. As if in apology, Samson let out a plaintive whine from his bed in the corner. “Aww, don’t worry boy! You know I won’t leave you, dontcha?” Placated by Max’s buoyant tone, the dog gave a clipped bark before laying his head back to resume his afternoon nap. In turn, you placated Max, promising he wouldn’t have to leave until he found the perfect apartment.

“Thanks, Y/N. I never realized it’d be this hard to settle down like a normal person.” You looked up from your own page, giving a conciliatory smile before continuing to skim the ads. Max continued his discouraged grievance. “A damn shame Al doesn’t still have that house over the street.” He let out a long exhale, before sitting back up and reaching for the next newspaper.

It must have been another 30 seconds, your mind preoccupied with rental prices and half-baths, before what Max had just said registered fully in your brain. You folded down the newspaper, furrowing your brow as you looked at Max in bafflement.

“Wait, what was that about Al?” you snapped, a little more forcefully than you’d expected, taking you both by surprise.

“Huh? Oh, I was just saying- shame Al sold that house a few years back,” Max turned on the couch towards the window, pointing at the house opposite. You jerked around too, following Max’s finger to its target, eyeing the rundown old house across the street, almost facing but set a little to the left.

“The one with the tree in the yard?”

“Yup, that’s the one. Coulda paid Al cheap rent, and I’d have been so close to you guys! Guess it wasn’t in the cards.”

“But that house. It’s empty.” In all the time you’d been here, you’d never seen anyone come or go through the front door. No lights in any window, no one mowing the grass that was sun-bleached and overgrown. As if Al had sold it to a ghost. Max simply shrugged, suggesting it was foreclosed on someone before you moved in with Al. He turned back to the stacks of papers on the coffee table and you tentatively angled back around too, supposing that Max was right. It did seem like something unimportant years after the fact- but then why was your immediate reaction one of unease and suspicion?

“Alright, how many we got, Scout?”

“Um-,” you pulled yourself from thoughts of the empty house, your determination to help Max actually find an apartment still strong. Collating the few ads you’d circled that might fit the bill, you handed them to Max. “Just, er, three potentials in the end.”

“Cool. I’m gonna do a drive-by to check them out, wanna come?”

You declined, watching Max’s old Firesweep peel down the street with a plume of spluttering gray smoke trailing it. Once out of sight, your eyes swept back to the house across the street. Maybe it was just your imagination that had your mind reeling. Easily helped along by the suitably creepy gnarled tree, the clear signs of abandonment in the peeling paint, each dusty window and chipped roof tile. It wasn’t any secret- Max had known about the house- and it’d be easy enough to ask Al about it if you were curious, which clearly you were.

Over dinner, talk was mostly centered around Max’s new job, with Al dryly congratulating him for not being fired after his first week. Apartment hunting had gone well, too, and Max had raved about one in particular- close by, in his price range, and pets allowed too! When he began to murmur about affording rent with his weekly paychecks, but not having a security deposit ready, Al barely glanced up from his bowl of chili to assure Max that he’d see to that, as long as Max got all the paperwork in order. The broad grin and dimples surfaced instantly at his big brother’s benevolence, with Max giving a playful punch to Al’s arm along with his enthusiastic thanks.

A lull in the conversation had your mind recalling your earlier doubts, and it felt as good a time as any to bring up the empty house.

“Max was saying- it’s a shame about you not still owning that house across the way.” You hadn’t asked directly, though your tone as you spoke verged on accusatory, gauging Al’s reaction to your words carefully. The briefest of flashes shone in his eye before he explained, seemingly open to talking about it after all.

“Wow, I’m surprised you remember that, Max,” he said nonchalantly, looking to his brother with a raised eyebrow before settling back to talk to you. “Yeah, I moved out a few years after our father died, once I knew mom would be ok on her own. I hadn’t lived there very long before she got sick, and once she needed round the clock care, I just hauled myself back to our old bedroom,” he paused to take a bite of cornbread, and you noted a sudden hush from the usually rowdy side of the table Max sat at. He was looking down, suddenly keen to avoid this conversation. Was he … ashamed of something?

“Anyway!” Al continued brightly, “It was silly to keep both houses after she passed when it was just me.” That last part was laced with a layer of disdain. Max hadn’t glanced up from his meal, keeping quiet and visibly sheepish at the comment. Al had pointedly emphasized the ‘just me’ portion of his speech, but resumed eating without looking Max’s way, ignoring the heavy tension that had dropped over the dinner table like an atom bomb.

In an instant, all thoughts about the house Al had owned vanished, replaced by a heavy guilt that you had caused a sudden, awkward rift between the Shaw brothers. You hadn’t meant for this to happen. It felt strange to try and offer an apology, when you knew Al would insist it wasn’t your fault- and wouldn’t that just make things even more strained? So like Max, you kept quiet and finished your dinner in frigid silence. The sudden animosity over what had been discussed (and what had been omitted) was clear when Max quietly offered to clear up after dinner, and Al had coolly walked away from the table and into the living room, gesturing you to join. You trailed after with a small, fleeting smile at Max who acknowledged it with a terse nod.

Al dropped to the couch, and you cozied up beside him on the middle seat. Based on the dinner conversation, piecing together the fragmented clues with what you already knew, it seemed there was a bitterness within Al that Max had left Denver, left Al alone to deal with issues at home. And on Max’s end, guilt and obvious regret at that fact.

“Al,” you spoke on a hushed breath, rubbing his tense forearm with placating strokes, the corded muscle beneath the skin taut with strained irritation. “He’s here now, isn’t he?” Al looked at you then, his eyes softening. “He’s trying to be better- just like you, right?” That statement hit its mark, the fact that Max really was aspiring to do better- getting clean, the move, the job, the apartment- all evident. Keeping your presence a secret, being honest about his past. Max’s sins paled in comparison to his brother’s. If Al could be forgiven, so could Max. Al released a long, breathy sigh.

“You’re right, dove. Of course you are.” His arm relaxed beneath your touch, and he planted a soft kiss to your cheek.

Max appeared at the living room threshold just then, holding three cold beers in an apparent peace offering. Al urged him to hurry up, as The Price is Right was just starting, Max’s favorite game show (no matter how hopeless he was at guessing correctly). You patted the seat beside you, and Max plonked himself down, handing the beers down the line. As far as reconciliations went, it was quick and simple. Beer and TV, was that all it took to reform that brotherly bond? You’d have to remember that one, you thought incredulously.

The momentary schism had been seemingly mended, allowing your thoughts to drift to other worries. You zoned out of the TV show, Bob Barker’s voice fading to a buzzing drone as previous doubts resurfaced. You felt a chill on the nape of your neck. Not a draft of wind from the open window behind you (it was a balmy summer’s night), but as if the house across the street was calling you, those withered branches on the dead tree like fingers beckoning. Those doubts had been eclipsed by the tension over another matter entirely, but they had returned in full force, clawing at your mind.

Ask another time, you thought inwardly, not wanting to rock the boat anymore tonight. You doubled your efforts, shaking away those apprehensions and joining Al and Max in their playful bickering over how much a washer dryer set actually cost. Those fears soon evaporated, lost in the warmth of the evening, unable to be heard over the playful familial squabble that signaled a clear return to normal.

Al had felt things settle this week, a calm serenity falling over the house. The quiet after the storm that had thundered through these walls: revelations about his and Max’s awful childhood, the parallels with his father, his little dove’s cutting remarks about the inescapable horrors the Grabber’s victims had faced. Her words on the matter had dug into him as deep as the blade that had embossed the flurry of white scars across his chest. The memory of her words would be as permanent as the scarring, her tongue spewing those barbs inflicting as much pain as her delicate hand clasping the knife’s hilt.

Of course, the reality was much different- it had been Al’s fault entirely. He had enough clarity to understand that. How he had forced the knife into her hand, he who was undoubtedly guilty of the accusations she had thrown his way. She was blameless; still a strong beacon of light against the inescapable darkness he’d dragged her into. And because of her goodness, her understanding of the things he’d been through, her innate ability to forgive despite his transgressions, the storm passed and the dust settled. They’d reconciled quickly, and life had gone on as normal. Well, as close to normal as their situation might ever permit.

It must be the universe’s way of saying ‘fuck you’, Al thought wryly. Every time things seemed good, even for a little while, a new obstacle, some malignant threat surfaced that threatened to shred the safe cocoon of him and Y/N. And though Max hadn’t meant anything by what was clearly an innocent, passing comment, Al couldn't help but feel a resentment that his brother once again knew just the thing to say to cause more upset. Max running his mouth, meaning Al needed to concoct yet another damn lie, his final secret, to keep his dove safe from the worst of himself.

She couldn’t find out about the house across the street, the house that Al had never sold. The one that held so many ghosts- perhaps literally so when he thought of the things buried there. He’d been back only once in the recent past, to hide the wooden box that had been stowed away in Max’s room before his visit. But even then, Al hadn’t the stomach to venture into the basement. Could hardly even bear thinking about it these days, when he was trying to see himself as a better man than the one who had committed the worst, most sickening evil.

His little thing had asked about the house with a sharp edge, as if she knew something was amiss. What if she kept prying? What if her obvious doubts didn’t quell? He’d have to come up with some sort of distraction, interrupt those pervading thoughts and occupy her mind with something else entirely. The idea that came to mind was completely shameful, though Al secretly smirked at the thought of how he would go about it.

Would it be completely reprehensible for a small part of him to wish her to continue asking? Without a doubt. But he knew they’d both enjoy the consequences of her inquisitive prying.

#the grabber #the grabber x reader #albert shaw x reader #albert shaw #black phone fanfic #the grabber x you #albert shaw x you #the black phone

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