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zhongrin · 9 months

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festered wounds

— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’

✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

“i’m sorry.”

zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.

“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.

“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”

“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”

zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.

belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.

zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.

“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”

“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”

“a-are you sure you want me?”

out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.

“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”

“oh….”

“….”

you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.

“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”

you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.

and it angered him.

but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.

funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.

“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”

“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”

“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”

wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—

he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.

“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”

he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…

“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”

“then is your own head telling you that?”

“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.

he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.

he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.

“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”

the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.

he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.

“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #rin writes

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iceunhie · 2 months

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— PUSH AND PULL : honkai star rail.

premise. as someone who's always believed in the term “try and try again,” (peak delusion, you know) rooting yourself in their heart has always been your goal, no matter the cold rejections and curt declines you receive. however, even you have your limits; perhaps this little push and pull you two have going isn't worth your time after all... but what happens then, if the chaser becomes the chased? (oh, how the turns have tabled.)

...or, when you play hard to get with them.

— ft. sunday, aventurine, jing yuan.

warnings: angst n fluff, messy messy, these boys are in love but are wayyy too chicken to admit they actually adore you, genderless reader.

a/n. inspired by @/xiaowhore's playing hard to get headcanons! my holy trinity 😇 n MY FAVES RAHHH

NEXT : BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX

SUNDAY is perplexed. very much aware of his qualities which enlists him as one of the finer (finest) bachelors of Penacony (he was the Robin's one and only blood, and was also the head of one of the main guiding forces of the Family, after all), sunday isn't sure he's ever come across someone as.... tenacious as you.

foolish, to be more precise, for he cannot for the life of him comprehend exactly why you are the way you are with... him.

no matter his respectful declines of your invitations to promenade around Penacony (re: going on dates), you really didn't know how to leave him be. though he hasn't exactly said he hated it, sunday was, admittedly, rather... affronted. your gifts, in particular, were your loud declarations of your affection (that make his wings flutter more rapidly than he'd like); but sunday was rather inconvenienced at the whole thing.

nonetheless, he does still accept them. reluctantly, mind you. not because he was fond of your constant shower of affections, which seemed so permanent that he began to look forward to them got used to it. to your credit, your gifts were very much to his tastes. (Robin once gave him a rather soul-searching look when he found himself wearing the gloves you gifted, light blue and white in color. he still uses it, just not when his sister is in the vicinity.)

in fact, perhaps he may have gotten too comfortable. little by little, your constant intrusions on his time have thawed a way to his heart; making sunday look forward to your jovial greetings and grandeur elaborations on your day, and such a thing makes him feel scared sunday needed to nip this in the bud, and fast.

so he confronts you, abruptly one day as you give him his newest gift—a jewelry box for his earrings. (surely, the rapid thumping of his heart was due to his irritation at your constant persistence, right?) “i'm afraid this can no longer continue. i am flattered by your... fancy for me, but i do not wish to enter a relationship in the near future.”

the utter silence that follows is torture to him—but he endures. he tries not to look at the momentary flash of hurt on your face. you seemed to quickly recover, though. giving him a simple smile (it didn't reach your eyes. it shocks him how his chest ached at the realization) and shaking your head when he returns the gift to you.

“i understand, mr. sunday.” the formal usage of his name instead of your chipper ‘sunday!’ makes his face twitch. “but please, keep the gift. think of this as my last declaration. it... would do me a great comfort, just this last time, if you accepted it instead.”

(if he had grabbed your hand at that moment as you left for the door, would he regret it?)

when you leave, sunday thought it would put the conflicting feelings in his mind at ease—but it doesn't. a week and two days counting, true to your word, sunday receives no flagrant gifts, nor little messages on his phone that tell him to take care of himself, to eat, and to make sure to remember to check up on Robin.

instead, contrary to the feeling of ease, regret follows him instead.

it's at two weeks and five days counting when sunday could no longer stand the sight of papers that stacked atop his desk and the image of you leaving for the door replaying in his head far too many times for him to count, that he contacts Robin.

and she, once hearing about the situation, gives him a very, very enlightening talk. (of course, not without giving her brother a lecture of the lifetime. part of him felt shame to know that his sister knew of his... turbulent love life, but she was the only one who he could trust, anyway).

“absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she says. “but in your case, brother, your heart has already decided it's course, right?”

sunday eyes the smooth velvet of the jewelry box you gifted, ruminating. his earrings lie there, carefully pristine and beautiful, gold and silver intertwined. he has worn them without fail, clean and spotless. (of course it was. such a design so intricate was only chosen by you. the thought makes his ears warm).

the next days are agonizing. vigor renewed and epiphanies well-spent, sunday spends the rest of his time after finishing his duties researching and painstakingly finding the best jeweller he can find (even employing the suggestions of a certain gambler, much to his dislike), and spending a god awful amount of time revisiting and rechecking which spots you like, which places you enjoy, to the point it comes up in Penacony's headlines that sunday is interested in someone.

surely, it should've reached your ears by now, yes? sunday panics. your preferences are well-accounted for, and he's sure the Bloodhound family members that report to him have to tell you that the person he had in mind was you. even Robin, who was your closest friend, has probably told you already.

it's embarrassing to admit, but; to hell with it, the day he meets you after three weeks and sees you having a pleasant chat with aventurine, of all people, sunday thinks his heart had shattered into little pieces and stabbed themselves into his body. not so much as sparing him a glance, moreso.

so when, finally at his wits end, sunday chooses to corner you at the dewlight pavilion and spills out how he has royally screwed up in the worst way possible, no one is surprised. at this rate, you would be swept up in the charms of that wretched gambler, and what sunday lacked in, aventurine more than made up for.

“wait, don't go to that gambler just yet.” he's breathless, he's chaotic—and something in his heart squeezes when you finally look at him. “i... i wish to take up your time now, if that's possible.” (he wishes he would take up your time forever, really, but that was still too early).

you eye his getup. all of your gifts, lined on the man you spent so long chasing after—you see the gloves you gifted, the tie with not so much as a single crease, and the earrings that shine more brightly in the light of the pavilion. (it suits him. like you) it was as if sunday had completely surrendered himself to you, had all but decided to proclaim that he was yours, and this was nothing short of a plea for you to hear him.

“please.” he says. almost begs. “i can't bear not seeing you anymore. allow me to correct such a damning mistake.”

and if you were skeptical, the way sunday looks at you would dispel any doubt you could ever have. (his wings, they were fluttering.)

(months later, after a nerve-ending confession, many days of dinners, shared gifts involving matching jewelry and promenading to your wishes, it dawns on sunday he was absolutely dancing to your tune. did he regret it, though?

....no, most certainly not.)

if AVENTURINE were to be honest with himself, he saw you as a useful “friend” rather than a romantic interest. was it bad of him? of a sort. but risk cutting himself open and letting someone he might grow to care for know about all the ugliness that follows his life? no, he's fine as it is, thanks.

the first thing he notices is that you're kind—though he distrusted most of his colleagues and preferred none to get close to him, aventurine, in some morbid moment of curiosity, instead allowed himself to bask in your attention. instead of curtly disparaging you, he flirts back at your compliments (the way your face heated up in return was far too endearing that he can't help but want to kiss you he finds it amusing) and consistently texts you a “did you get home safe” or a “i bought you this because it reminded me of you”; at this point, it was like you two were dating.

was it leading you on? yes, but he supposes it was a win-win; he could send you those tiny bits of validation that was enough for you to stay respectfully at a distance while he probed at your intentions. unlike others who attempt to garner his favor, you're genuine, and you seriously take the time to know him. because you always text back with hearts, always reassure him, tell him to stay safe and wish him luck at every gamble, every high stakes bet he finds himself in. you even complimented his perfume once (and, if he had to be honest, he could not stop thinking about it all day—because that perfume he commissioned exclusively was based off of your own favorite scents and it was extremely embarrassing that he loved hugging you knowing that you loved the way he smelled and that it felt extremely domestic).

(sometimes, he doesn't reply. for months on end. suddenly the golden-haired man you love goes cold and you know then that aventurine ghosts you and then returns when he's in need of a friend—never a lover. it hurts you, but at the very least, you know he cares in his own way.)

and, if aventurine had to be honest, it was killing him from the inside bit by bit. as if to drive the knife deeper, you never danced around what exactly was going on with you two. you never ask why he ghosts you, then sends you a bundle of gifts all of a sudden and then rapidly spends time with you and repeating the cycle. no, you were consistently by his side, so warm and so caring—so unlike him—that aventurine wonders if it's really all right to open his heart to you.

if, by some chance, he actually wanted to be with you, would you treat him even more sweetly than before? aventurine thinks you would—you were beautiful in your entirety, and he was practically undeserving of you. he imagines himself kissing your hand and having you in his arms—and that feels like ice cold water being dumped onto his head, because you could do so much better and yet, why him?

so when aventurine hears about how a certain doctor was visiting you for some unknown reason, his already fragile sense of security in this little will-they, won't they crumbles.

and when he finds out that you were staying over with ratio? something twisted lodges itself in the little brushes of his heart, coiling and coiling—making him feel green. aventurine is aware you and the doctor are good friends, and ratio was the one who even told you to make a move on him! how could he just—suddenly interrupt?!

(was it dramatic? extremely. but knowing his friend and the person he secretly adores might end up together? you can't really blame him.)

he supposes this can be attributed to him. it was an egregious mistake, a blunder aventurine made—he never gave you a clear sight of whether he truly loved you or not and now you're slipping away from him.

so, he does something very unexpected.

at 3:00 AM in the wee early morning hours, aventurine practically barges into one Dr. veritas ratio's home, demanding what the hell was going on between you. and as if he had expected it, his doctor friend merely gives him a shrug in return.

“perhaps they were simply getting fed up by a certain IPC member—who is clearly head over heels in love with them—giving them mixed signals.” ratio's tone is stern, and aventurine definitely knows that the look he gives him is the one he gives only to fools.

you idiot, the doctor seems to say. yeah, yeah, he is; aventurine ignores the clear pinprick at his dignity.

yes, he supposes he is the fool here. “ah.”

“yes, ‘ah,’ indeed. now, let me propose a question.” the purple-haired man says. “will you react in such a way when i tell you that in order for my friend to stop their anguish, i managed to get them to fraternize with one of my colleagues?”

“...what?”

“they will be having a meet-up seven system hours from now.” ratio shrugs. eyes aventurine, who's looking at him like a gaping, stupid fish. “i can only hope that no one would dare to disrupt.”

...it doesn't take him long to be rid of the gambler by then.

(a few hours later, you stop by the Intelligentsia Guild to see one veritas ratio with a smug smile, eyeing the fur coat draped around your shoulders, and the flushed and happy expression written on your face.

“did it work?” he asks.

you laugh, “splendidly.”

indeed, that gambler was a fool, and there's nothing more than dr. ratio loved than to educate such fools to shape.

“that will teach him.”)

as a quote unquote ‘old man’ who knows that he's well up in his years for a relationship, JING YUAN finds you to be quite amusing.

it doesn't take a detailed analysis to know that you were smitten with him, really. you're a complete open book by his standards—if your heated face and slightly airy voice whenever you were even placed in the same vicinity with the Dozing General was anything to come by. while flattering, he also shares the similar mindset of being too old for any love his way—and he could be mara-struck at any given time, and jing yuan does not wish such a life filled with anguish and pain for the one who may steal his heart. but, worry not, brave suitor of the Arbiter General! unlike the other two above, this man has the experience of millenia, and is open-minded and aware that you truly wish to be perceived as a potential lover.

in fact, jing yuan's recent favorite habit is sneaking off the Seat of Divine Foresight purely to freak you out, watching you scramble up your words, seeing the heat crawl up your nape and bloom all across your face. adorable. you certainly knew how to appeal, that's for sure.

(“heh, it seems i've found a new place to stay in so that the Diviner Fu won't grill me alive when she sees me.”

and when he's rewarded with a bashful and speechless look in return, a smile and your, “i'm glad, general.” it surprisingly lightens up his mood by more than he expected.

that, in turn, gives him a frightening 30% energy boost; fu xuan was utterly shocked to see the languid man actually working and looking like he enjoyed it, for once.

“did something good happen today, jing yuan? why so enthusiastic?”

“i just felt like working more than usual, diviner Fu. i seem to have my energy levels at a high.”)

now, jing yuan is considerate and perceptive first and foremost, so there's a high chance that out of all the men here, he is the most open to giving you the chance to pursue him. he does inform you beforehand that he has no plans of accepting your confessions in the future, and that is where the ‘hard to get’ part comes in.

it's like playing a confusing romance visual novel with a fickle love interest—you never really know what you're doing, whether it's something jing yuan would like or not, and you don't know if he even thinks your attempts are moving his heart. (tldr: he friend zones you).

he maintains the same distance no matter his banters with you, no matter how many times you tell him that you'd help yanqing out with sword lessons. it's like he was just... treating you as he would a friend, and that you were basically stuck in the friend-zone forever.

(he keeps it to himself, but something warm stirs in his chest when he sees yanqing sleeping on your shoulder after training practice, with your arm protectively around the boy's side.

your sleeping face didn't make it easy to look away either; it's one of the few moments in which jing yuan shows just the slightest bit of reciprocating your pursuits; he brushes back the stray hairs covering your face, and drapes a blanket over the two of you.

of course, perhaps to tease yanqing, he also takes the calligraphy brush and makes a work out of his face, doodling all over it.

when you wake up, there's a lingering scent of ink and yellowed paper that fills your senses. when you turn to the boy beside you, you almost giggle out loud.)

it's a little disheartening—and while jing yuan did acknowledge that you were slowly, slowly burrowing yourself in his heart, he doesn't act on it fast enough, and instead lets the realization sit in his mind for a while.

it gets to the point where it feels as though he were preparing to distance himself, and even yanqing had asked if he was well. your visits with the Arbiter General also decrease, as he suddenly buried himself in his work even more than before.

he doesn't get to see you all that much afterwards, despite the lingering feeling of missing you filling his heart.

....that's until jing yuan hears word of a recent mara-struck incident involving the Sky-faring Commission; with your name listed among those heavily injured.

when he visits Bailu's clinic after yanqing urges him, jing yuan takes in the sight of you, littered in injuries from head to toe. your life, about to snap. he never even told you that you won; you did manage to steal his heart and for the first time in a long time, jing yuan allows himself to love.

so if, after three weeks later when you're finally healed up and ready to go, jing yuan brings you into his arms and drags you to let him sleep in your lap, you can't really blame him now, can you?

a/n: i love yearner hsr men,,, might do a pt 2 though. thinking of mayb ratio, jiaoqiu and f/heng next time...... sighs dreamily

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

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azsazz · 6 days

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Shots & Spins

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Req from @kristijenner19: I saw you were thinking about hockey!AZ because same. How about a fic where she's a figure skater and they're trying to teach each other their respective sports. Imagine poor Az trying to do a spin/jump/twizzle and a reader who can barely ever make a shot into a goal

Bonus points if they switch their skates and have to re-learn how to skate with the new blade

Warnings: Mild panic attack, mentions of readers injury (torn ACL), trauma from coaches (verbal) mentioned.

Word Count: 3088

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown

HOCKEY SZN SOON MY LOVES 💙💙

Notes: I swear I meant to make this cuter but of course, I had to give it some angst 😅

_________________________________________

“What is this?” You question. You’re probably being rude, with your nose scrunched in disgust. With the way you’re holding the pair of skates as far away from your body as possible, you’re pretty sure you look like the biggest bitch on all of campus. But for the life of you, you can’t figure out why Azriel has handed you hockey skates.

“They’re skates,” Azriel answers. You rip your glare from the offending skates at his obvious response. Your heart stumbles in your chest at the sight of his pink lips twitching, begging to reveal that grin he spends most of his time expertly hiding.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning closer in anticipation, so eager to see that smile until the hitch of his breath snaps you back to consciousness.

You rock back on your heels so quickly you nearly tumble over. Would tumble over if it weren’t for Azriel’s quick reflexes, his large hands enveloping your waist and steadying you back on your feet.

“Thanks,” you reply flatly, dipping your chin to the ground to hide your flaming cheeks. There’s not an ounce of amusement in your body.

“You’re welcome.” You don’t like the smugness in his tone or the way he’s playing with you. Tilting your face back up, you muster all the annoyance lancing through your veins at his retort, shooting him the nastiest glare.

“That’s not what I meant, Az, and you know it. Why am I holding a pair of hockey skates?”

Azriel sits on the bench beside the empty arena, and you want to pout. Why would you want to spend any more time at the rink than you already do? You’re bone-fucking-tired and your knee is feeling stiff. You overdid it in practice this week, trying to get back into the shape you were in before the time you’d been forced to take off, and it’s hitting you hard. All you really want to do is crawl home, roll out your muscles, and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

When you don’t join Azriel, he says, with a humor you don’t feel, “Don’t tell me you forgot about our little bet. Or how you so gracefully lost it.”

Of course you hadn’t forgotten. Who could forget losing at something as simple as a race across the arena? Afterwards, you tried to blame it on the differences in the ice, how it was colder and harder than you were used to, as it was prepared for the hockey team’s game later that weekend.

A rookie mistake, honestly. One that you’ve been kicking yourself over up until this very moment. Well, if you could kick with your injured leg, that is, you’d be doing just that.

You grind your teeth as a memory rises to the forefront of your mind. Your coach’s voice rings in your head, shrill and reprimanding. Why would you take such foolish chances? You need to get your head in your sport or you’re never going to make it on the Olympic team, let alone the University team.

Shame presses down on you, and your eyes prick at the criticism you should be used to by now. Your private coach from your time before Velaris University, Amarantha, had been very creative with her insults, always coming up with comments worse and harsher to cut down any semblance of confidence you had in your sport.

You bet she’s thrilled that you won’t be back in her presence until you’re healed enough. If you heal enough to relearn the very trick that took you out of the running for the Olympic team in the first place.

It must be a thing, coaches insulting their prodigies. You glance at Azriel from the corner of your eye and wonder if his coach is the same way. If Rhys is brutal with his teammates.

And you hate losing. It was Azriel who you wished forgotten about the bet you’d so stupidly agreed to, but here he is, wearing the same look that got you into this position in the first place.

You take your time studying him as you mull over how to get out of this. Azriel’s broad shoulders take up the space of two people, and his deep, dark hair falls over his brow, growing out into the perfect flow all the players seem to be sporting right now. You wonder if it’s superstition or they actually like the look. His thick lashes sweep as he bats them, and your cheeks take on a pink hue as he pretends to preen under your attention.

“Look,” he all but sighs, giving up his act. He leans back, reaching over to grab something out of sight. When Azriel rightens himself, he holds a pair of figure skates, a sheepish smile on his face. The apples of his cheeks mottle with pink. “I got myself figure skates, so we can both look like fools out there. Together.”

Fuck. The sentiment makes your throat tighten. He doesn’t have to be so damn thoughtful, you’re hardly even friends for Mother’s sake.

“Fine,” you manage when you can speak again. You plop onto the bench beside him. Your knee throbs dully in protest, but it’s nothing you haven’t been able to smother before. You’ve worked through worse conditions than hockey prepped ice, have skated in casts and aches so deep you weren’t sure you’d be able to compete at all if it weren’t for your raw love for the sport and your brutal stubbornness, holding yourself to the highest of standards.

And it’s not like you’re going to be doing your usual tricks. No, that’s all Azriel. All you have to manage is a few forward spirals, twizzles, and perhaps an axel just to show off a little, because there’s no way he’ll be able to recreate all of that in one go.

You just hope your knee stays steady for a few more hours.

The both of you lace your shoes in silence. The hockey skates are so different from your figure skates, you note. The blade is much thicker than you’re used to, more curved too. The boots are shorter, and you grimace at the lack of ankle support.

Not to mention you’re not entirely sure how well you’ll be able to stop without your toe pick.

Azriel leads you to the ice. You step on tentatively, giving the new skates a test. They have a lot more give than you’re used to. They’re not as snug, but easy enough to navigate. Muscle memory kicks in and after a few sluggish runs up and down the ice, you think you’ve gotten the hang of it.

The rest of this bet should be a breeze, especially compared to how Azriel is faring.

His face is contorted with a concentrated frown. He looks stiff as a fucking board, which make you giggle and him complain about. “How the hell do you wear these things? I can barely even move my ankles!”

“Practice makes perfect, young Padawon,” you tease, testing how best to shift your weight on the new blades. The pressure on your knee isn’t terrible, thanks to the looseness of the hockey skates.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azriel waves you off. He trails behind you at a slower rate, focused on getting used to the stiffness of the figure skates on his feet. “Just wait until we scrimmage.”

Ugh, no thanks. This is just perfect for you, the both of you out on the open ice, all alone. You don’t want to ruin this peaceful bliss by bringing your competitive personalities into it.

“I knew if we raced under different conditions I’d have won!” You exclaim, zipping past Azriel again, showing off. He glares playfully, but you’re much too busy admiring your skates to notice the way he’s tucked his lip between his teeth, hiding a satisfied grin.

His toe pick digs into the ice, grinding down as he gets a feeling for the foreign piece, but his eyes stay glued on you.

“Ready for a stick and gloves already, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know,” you throw a smirk back in his direction, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking a brow. “You ready for twizzling?”

“Twizzlers?”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke, but your heart still skips at his wry smile. It’s more than cute. You push off your blade, moving closer to him.

Which is fine, until you try to use your toe pick to stop, only for the realization to hit that there isn’t one on these skates.

You go barreling into Azriel, who catches you in his arms. Your motion throws him off balance and before you even have the chance to squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself, you’re both falling to the ice.

Azriel hits with a grunt that reverberates through your bones. You’d think that Azriel breaking your landing would be less painful than it is, but with the way the muscle is packed on his body, he’s just as hard as the ice that’s no longer beneath your feet.

“Sorry,” you cringe. It comes out breathless and embarrassment flushes your cheeks, but you’re frozen to your spot and all too aware of how his large, warm hands are wrapped firmly around your waist.

“No worries.” Your lashes flutter as his breathy whisper caresses your face. He’s probably just winded, that’s why he sounds like that. Yes, that’s exactly what it is. “Didn’t think to remind you how to stop.”

“I know how to stop,” you argue, but there’s none of your usual fire tainting the words. You can’t even muster one of your famous glares that you reserve for the normally broody hockey player. You break eye contact as the humiliation begins creeping in. You scratch your nail distractedly down the waffled fabric of his olive colored henley. “I just…forgot, I guess.”

The hitching of his breath in his chest shifts your body and you jolt, the situation slamming into you like a truck.

You scramble off Azriel, grimacing at the sound of your blades clinking against his. His grip loosens, hands falling away as you slip to the ice beside him.

You shoot to your knees, then not-so-carefully climb to your feet. Azriel holds his hands out from where he’s still lying on the ground, like he’s more than ready to catch you again should you fall.

You’re positive the heat of your cheeks could melt the entire arena’s ice right now. You need to get the fuck out of here before you embarrass yourself further. You need to never show your face around here again. You’ve already transferred schools once, what’s one more time?

Azriel calls your name, but you hardly hear him over your racing thoughts. If the sheer embarrassment wasn’t enough, Coach Weaver’s voice now fills the rest of your head, screeching about your recklessness and how you could’ve injured yourself—

He’s quicker than you thought, or you’ve been trapped in your mortified headspace for too long because Azriel’s on his feet, towering over you and pulling you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” your voice trembles and his hands tighten around you. He lets you bury your face into his chest and pretends not to notice the tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. You’re fucking trembling, and his heart is pounding just as hard.

This is all his fault.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breathe,” he tries to console. He looks around frantically, like one of the sports therapist students or coaches might be walking past the rinks this late at night. There’s no soul in the building besides the both of you, everyone resting for their busy weekends of competitions and away hockey games. “Please.”

You focus on his words, how he guides you, three seconds in, three seconds out. You focus on the soothing patterns he’s drawing down your back, focus on the beating of his heart and latch onto his scent: night-chilled mist and cedar.

“Sorry,” you croak when you finally manage to calm yourself and slide a step back. Your gaze sits pointedly on the ice. You don’t want him to see you like this, a woman who’s about to fucking crumble.

“Don’t be,” Azriel says softly. His hand finds your face, and as much as you don’t want him to, he lifts your chin. You don’t fight it, emotionally exhausted. You should have asked for a raincheck, but you can admit to the fact that Azriel’s gentle touch is a comfort that you can’t help but lean into.

Sad, hazel eyes meet yours. They’re more golden brown than green, a forest of hues backlit by a burst of gold. Your breath hitches as he drags a thumb softly across your lips. They part, even though you don’t mean them to, and the whisper of breath that leaves you passes over his hand, crawls up his arm, and sends shivers down his spine.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure you can hold yourself together enough to answer his question without completely melting into a puddle at his feet.

Your silence must be answer enough. Azriel takes both of your hands in his own and guides you back toward the bench where you left your shoes. His grip is reassuring, and you’re so tired that you don’t even have it in yourself to sling a witty remark his way.

For what might be the first time in your life, you allow yourself to be taken care of.

You can’t even muster a chuckle at the way he stumbles over the toe pick on his way off the ice, or the way you’re waddling in these skates. You feel anything but graceful and strong right now, but with Azriel’s hand in yours, it’s not as off-putting as you feared it might be.

“Sit,” he says, keeping his fingers clasped around yours as you heed his command. It brings you eye-level to his hands, puckered and pink and scarred to hell. They’re beautiful in every way. He embraces his story, and it’s an incredible strength, one you’re much too terrified of attempting to recreate.

“Azriel, no,” you protest, jolting forward when he lowers himself to his knees before you. You plant your hands on his shoulders, ready to force him away because you’re more than capable of taking your own skates off.

He catches your wrists, and you didn’t think his eyes could soften any more, but they do, and you melt. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let me take care of this for you.”

You try to swallow past the knot in your throat to thank him but are unable to. Instead, you nod and reluctantly sit back.

Azriel’s gentle with his movements, like you’re a wild doe that he’s helping free from a snare. He unties the tight knots, and your heart pinches when he struggles for a moment. You wouldn’t notice if you weren’t watching so intently, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Like he knows you need to see this.

You carefully keep your mind from wandering into how good he looks like this before you.

He slips the first skate off, and you stretch your toes. It’s a reflex. Azriel smiles, peeking up at you just in time to catch your blush. His gaze ducks away before you become embarrassed, setting your foot down and holding your other ankle, lifting to get to work.

You hiss softly at the ache in your knee.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laces his voice, and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no,” you cringe a little at the lingering sting. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart.” Azriel says sternly. Seriously. “That reaction wasn’t nothing. What’s wrong?”

You sigh, defeated in more ways than one. You don’t want to admit that the injury that threw your entire career off-kilter is acting up again. You’d rather not have anyone know.

Perhaps Azriel is different. Or, maybe he’s forcing you, because the gold in his eyes is intense, pinning you to your spot. His mouth is set in a straight, firm line. He looks like he means fucking business.

You avert your gaze. You’ve never admitted defeat like this, but if Azriel can wear his scars so proudly, maybe you can too.

“I tore my ACL a few months ago.” You admit, sniffling. You can feel the shock in Azriel’s gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. He’s the first person at this school outside of your coach who’s hearing it. You’ve never been so vulnerable, especially with someone you hardly know. You press on nonetheless. “It’s been fine up until now.” A white lie. “But it’s been a little sore since I started practicing my jumps again.”

“How many months is ‘a few’?” He questions, and he’s not going to like the answer, so you opt for brushing over it.

“I’ll go back to seeing my therapist,” you offer instead, but even you’re not too sure how much truth your words hold.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Azriel says, and you don’t want his sympathy, but you’re too exhausted for your usual anger to stir to life. “You need to take care of yourself, before it gets any worse.”

His sentiment has your nose stinging, eyes prickling once again. What the fuck is wrong with you these days? Get it together, girl. You can cry in your own room, not in front of the hot boy who’s helping you with your godsdamned shoes.

You drag your gaze back to his. “I will.” You think.

He studies you for a moment before nodding, accepting your answer whether he believes it or not. You don’t have it in yourself to care right now. No, you just want to be back in the safety of your dorm.

Azriel is even more careful removing this skate and helping you slip into your shoes. He makes quick work of his own, and while his head is down, you admire his stature. Broad shoulders and chest that tapers into a tight waist, an ass for days.

You’re not done drooling over him when he stands, offering you a hand.

You slip your palm into his, ignoring the electricity that zips down your arm. You’re hyperaware of him by your side, and it’s only when he’s absolutely sure that you’re steady on your feet that he drops your hand.

You try not to feel too disappointed at the loss.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Azriel offers, and you trail him from the arena, your heart feeling a bit fuller with the nickname.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #hockey!bat boys #hockey!azriel #acotar hockey au #acotar au #azriel au

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back2bluesidex · 11 months

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Girl Crush - MYG

Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here.

Read the follow-up drabble, Afterglow.

Pairing: Husband!Yoongi X Wife!Reader

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au, arrange marriage au

Wordcount: 1.5k+

Summary: It was and is Min Yoongi, who you fell in love with over the course of charity galas, executive meetings, quarterly gatherings, parties and so on. And he never once looked in your direction. But then again, there are very few people Yoongi really looked at.

Based on Girl Crush by Harry Styles (Cover).

Warnings: unhappy marriage, unrequited love, yoongi loves someone else. this is very painful.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: I had this idea sitting on my head for a long time now. Thanks to @jimintaemin for requesting this and giving me a chance of writing this. This is very angsty just as you wanted. Hope you like this. Hit me back with your feedback!:)

“I've got a girl crush… Hate to admit it but I’ve got a heart rush… It ain’t slowin' down”

“I assume you already know that this is a marriage of convenience, a negotiation between two companies. And I hope you will not expect anything from me. As long as it’s about responsibilities, I am okay with those. But don’t expect anything more.” Min Yoongi had said, cold and stoic, as if not conversing but stating some flat facts related to stock prices.

He was not wrong. Whatever he had said are indeed facts and there was nothing you didn’t already know.

So you stood there, standing as still as a porcelain doll, ready to fall and break at any given moment.

“And just so you know… I have someone.” he finished, diverting his eyes from you even though he never really looked at you properly.

Although you were glad that he didn’t. You were more than happy that he didn’t witness tears rolling down your face, gathering below your chin and dropping down at the immaculate fabric of your wedding gown.

Do tears leave stains? You hoped that was not the case.

It’s not that you pictured a fairytale married life for you. You know arranged marriages come with more cons than pros. You knew you would have to pay the price.. but at the same time you had no choice. You were even more reluctant to do anything because it was him.

It was and is Min Yoongi, who you fell in love with over the course of charity galas, executive meetings, quarterly gatherings, parties and so on. And he never once looked in your direction. But then again, there are very few people Yoongi really looked at.

It was foolish for you to expect a man of his stature would not have someone to love, to be loved by. And it was even more foolish for you to think, you can be his wife, a real one.. and lead a life with him.

However, now you know it’s impossible. And the realization made you feel helpless, caged and broken.

“I won’t expect anything, I promise, but in return… Can we at least be friends? It will make things easy for both of us.” you’d uttered upon managing your voice and emotions.

Only then he looked at you, like really looking at you with a small smile playing on his lips, he’d said “sure.”

That was the moment you realized you had a girl crush. And it was the woman who managed to make Yoongi, your husband, fall in love.

“I got it real bad.. Want everything she has That smile and that midnight laugh.. She's giving you now.”

You thought, you would be angry. You thought every possible darkness would cover your senses, when you’d meet her for the first time.

But wrong… you were.

You had so many prejudices about this woman and you hated her with every drop of blood your body owns but all of it evaporated in thin air when she smiled at you standing right at your and yoongi’s door.

She is beautiful, she is kind, she is loveable… and maybe everything else you can’t ever be.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I never thought I was going to see Yoongi ever again.” she’d murmured as she stood close to you in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you three.

You had stared into her eyes then.. Trying to find mockery and a hint of brazen victory telling you, “you’re only his paper wife. I own his heart.”

But again.. Again you were disappointed.

In her eyes, there was no mockery, no pretense, no dishonesty.. Rather only understanding and kindness. Only then you understood why Yoongi loves her so much.

Why will it never be you and always be her.

That night as you stood at the balcony, enjoying the stinging sensation cold wind brought to you, you heard them laughing.

It was the first time you heard Min Yoongi laughing. Even though faint and muffled, you could still sense his happiness through the sound.

Min Yoongi was finally happy... for the first time since the wedding ceremony... and you were not the reason.

All of a sudden, you were jealous again, even though you were not sure if you had the right or not.

“I want to taste her lips… Yeah, 'cause they taste like you I want to drown myself… In a bottle of her perfume”

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you invited her to your and Yoongi’s honeymoon.

Both of your and his parents have been pestering you to set out for the trip. You have been using excessive workload as the excuse and you assumed Yoongi to do the same.

But a week ago, everything went south when Yoongi had a fight with his father. As a result, flights were booked, accommodations were chosen and you two were notified only two days prior.

That night, Yoongi didn’t come back home. And when he did, he didn’t speak a single word to you.

The visible frown on his forehead and the cold aura that oozed from him, made you want to make him smile, made you invite his lover to the trip secretly.

She was already there when you two reached and you will never forget Yoongi’s reaction when he realized what was happening.

The grumpy cold Yoongi broke into gummy smiles and giggles as soon as he saw her. They kissed right in front of your eyes and you silently cried.

Oh how you wish, you could taste him too. How you wish, he would hold you like that, caress you like that.

How you wish… he would love you like that.

“I want her long blond hair… I want her magic touch Yeah, 'cause maybe then… You'd want me just as much”

“Babe, could you please turn your head a little? Yes.. yes just like that.”

You watched the man as he clicked photos after photos of the woman he loves, seemingly trying to document her beauty for a long long time.

You watched her as her long blond hair flowed like a waterfall down her shoulder, wind ruffling it gently making her look even more beautiful.

“Let’s take a selfie, will you?” she shouted at him and he chuckled.

He buried his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, he said, “you smell so nice.”

You wondered, what she smelled like, what perfume did she use to make Yoongi look this satisfied. You even considered asking her, purchasing a bottle and drowning yourself in one of those if that means Yoongi would love to smell you too, he would curl himself around you late at night. If that means Yoongi would want you, just as much.

“I don't get no sleep… I don't get no peace Thinking about her.. Under your bed sheets”

“Where are you going?” confusion dripped through Yoongi’s voice. You stopped at your tracks and turned to face him.

“I will sleep in the other room. You two should have your space. I will send her in as soon as I am there.” you smiled at him, even though your heart bleed invisibly inside your chest at the thought of how they would spend the night together.

“No, Y/N. We will adjust. You sleep here in the suite.” Yoongi commented, as firm as a verdict, as he stepped towards where you stood.

“But Yoongi, I am alone, what would I do with all this space?” you sighed. You definitely didn’t want to be left alone at the honeymoon suite, decorated for the newlyweds. You hate it. Totally loathe the decorations. Those giant red hearts had been mocking you since the moment you stepped there. You might tear those to pieces if you were left there alone, raising endless questions regarding such an act.

“You have done enough. You have done much more than you needed to and I feel like I’m taking advantage of your kindness. So, please… stay here. Enjoy the stay. We will manage.” giving you one of his tight lipped smiles, Yoongi slipped out of the room to spend the night with his lover.

That night when you slid inside the covers, which smelled awfully like him because he took a nap earlier in the evening, you started breaking down.

Your hopes, your dreams, and your heart all started crumbling right before your eyes. You held the duvet tightly around yourself and pretended it was yoongi wrapped around you, it was Yoongi, whispering sweet things in your ear, it was Yoongi, telling you that he loved you.

Somewhere you knew, Yoongi is actually doing all these things in real-time but.. Not to you.. Not for you.

You closed your eyes, tears streamed down your cheeks and wetted the pillow. You imagined your life as her… as your girl crush… as the woman your husband, Min Yoongi, loves.

“I've got a girl crush… Hate to admit it but I’ve got a heart rush… It ain’t slowin' down”

#bts angst #yoongi angst #suga angst #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #bts x you #suga fanfic #bts arranged marriage au #bts drabble #bts #bts suga #nika's milestone drabble game

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 9 months

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He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter One

Summary: Life didn't turn out the way you wanted. You got the guy, and the job but everything else you had ever wanted has been crumbling around you. Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 2.1k~ Warnings: yändere, manipulation, domestic violence, self harm, cheating, explicit language, hints at smut, angst, idk what else lol a/n: Ahh thank you so much for all of the love so far on the intro and even all the notes on the masterlist hehe. I'm really loving the direction this story is going in so I hope you guys will too! And thanks again to @kkusadmirer for the request!

Opening my laptop I pull up the most recent edit I had done on the next chapter I was working on.

I'm a writer, not an incredibly famous one but a writer nonetheless. I make enough to get by and I'm able to work from home so that's all I ever really wanted. Just a silly girl, writing her silly stories, living her silly life.

But unfortunately things don't always turn out the way you want them to.

I thought I had it all, perfect grades and a perfect boyfriend with a loving family and a bright bright future. Now looking back at it all and seeing all of the stuff in the background that I somehow missed just makes me feel foolish.

How could I not notice Taehyung wondering eye? Why did I not listen to what my friends used to say about him? Why did I leave all of my friends behind for him?

Being so wrapped up and so in love with him I didn't even notice the fact that my family was falling apart. My mom cheated on my dad and I never knew until they told me they were getting a divorce.

While my brother was struggling in high school while being around all of their screaming and fighting and finally got committed to a mental institution when he had a psychotic break.

I never knew anything about that. It's not like I didn't care, but I just never really reached out or gave them enough time to reach out to me.

I was always like 'Oh Tae just got home I have to go' or 'Tae is expecting me so I need to get going'. My world has revolved around him for so long that my family and friends feel like strangers.

How could I have been so stupid and neglected them, all for one guy?

The one that I wanted to build a future with and promised to do the same with me. Now here I am, 24 with student loans up to my neck and a sorry excuse for a marriage with a husband that is never home.

I don't know what I managed to do in my past life that ended up royally fucking me up in this one but I'm sorry. Why couldn't I have done better so I would be saved from having my spirit broken and my heart ripped to shreds.

The only positive thing is that this has given me is the inspiration to come up with an even more fucked up series of books that has been my only source of income for the past few years.

Years, wow.

Thinking about how much time has passed and how things went to shit so quickly helped me continue down this downward spiral and I don't know how to make it stop. Although the sound of keys jingling outside the front door is my rude awakening, my brain knowing I need to be conscious of what may happen next.

I quickly wipe off the tears that I didn't even realized had started to fall and clear my throat. Moments later I'm met with the sight of Taehyung walking in wearing the same shirt I had seen him in yesterday but sports a brand new hickey near the collar, just barely noticeable but he makes no effort to hide it.

"Y/n" I hear him call out, breaking me out of my train of thought. "Yes?" I question, hating that I've been caught off guard even though I was staring right at him. "I asked if we have anything to eat" he says, making his way over to the refrigerator, now going to see if he can answer his own question before I'm even given another second to speak up.

"Um yeah I think there's some left over pizza from last night" I say and get up to walk towards him. "So how was work yesterday?" I ask tentatively, still not sure what kind of mood he's in. "Exhausting but it is what it is I guess" he says while stuffing his face full of a cold slice of pepperoni pizza.

I turn to walk away while nodding my head, not bothering to ask anything else since it seems from his vague answers that he's not in the mood to talk.

"Hey" he says, gently grabbing my wrist with the hand that wasn't occupied with the pizza, leaving me frozen in place. I know better than to walk away from him. Even if he's not mad at the moment doesn't mean that he won't be in the next.

"Where are you running off to?" he asks pulling me close by that same wrist. Still doing so carefully but pressing on the bruises that he had left there from the last fight we had.

He sees my slight look of discomfort and how my vision is trained on the wrist he's still holding and rolls up my sleeve, taking a quick look and seeing the evidence of his past transgressions.

"It left a mark huh?" he says examining the spot further and then bringing it up to his face where he places a few featherlight kisses on it, making a flash of heat run through my system when he looks back up at me with those eyes.

Those bedroom eyes that never fail to put me in a trance. He lifts his hand up towards my face and I flinch not knowing what to expect and see him stopping for a second, surprised by my reaction.

"Don't be afraid baby, it's just me" he says and keeps going, hooking his finger on the collar of my turtleneck to pull it to the side, no doubt searching for other marks.

"There's marks here too. I guess it's a good thing you stay home. Don't want to have to make up excuses for those now would you?" he says tapping under my chin twice, a slight lilt in his tone, enjoying my clear discomfort in showing them to someone, even if it's the person that's caused them.

"What did you do today baby?" he asks, letting go of me and going back to grab a few other things out of the fridge to complete his meal. "Oh you know, just some writing" I say, trailing off and giving him the same answer that I've given him time and time again.

"You almost done with it?" he questions, only really asking so he knows when my next big payday will be.

I shake my head "No, not yet. I think I'm only about halfway though" I say, giving simple answers to his simple questions. "Well you better get it out soon. I bet your readers are dying to know what happens next" he says giving me a quick wink before taking everything he has in his hands and carrying it over to the couch.

"Do you think you could grab me a beer?" he asks, but I know it's more of a courtesy than anything phrasing it like I actually had an option. I respond with a quiet yeah and bring it over to him, placing it on the coffee table.

"Thanks babe" he says and grabs a ahold of my hand and angles his head up, clearly asking for a kiss to which I oblige. Again something I don't really have an option in doing. "I missed you" he says and rubs his nose against mine cutely, or at least it used to be cute. Now it just makes me sad thinking of all of those times when we were happy.

"Are you gonna watch the game with me?" this time giving me something that I actually have a choice in. "I think I've got some more writing I'd like to do" I say and he nods his head not even bothering to look at me or give me a verbal sign of acknowledgment before turning on said game and slumping back into the couch to watch.

I walk over to my desk that happens to unfortunately be in the living room so I'm forced to grab my headphones to drown out the sound so I can hopefully get another chapter or two in before I call it a night.

~~~~~~

"Baby" I hear him call for me through my headphones after some time, that's something that I've had to fine tune. Making sure I can hear him when he talks to me no matter what so it's one less thing I have to worry about him getting upset about.

I pull out my headphones and turn my attention towards him, half expecting him to ask me to get him a beer. "Yes?" I reply, waiting to see what he needs. "Come here" he says holding his hand out to me and spreading his legs, showing me where he wants me.

I get up and walk towards him, straddling him once I get close enough and putting my arms around his neck. "Hi" he says in a deep voice sending a shockwave through my nervous system. "Hi" I respond quietly, intimidated at the thought of what he might do next. "How was the game?" I ask tentatively, hoping for my own sake that there was a favorable result.

"We won" he says, mindlessly tracing his hands up and down my curves. "How's your book?" he asks leaning into my neck, placing kisses over the bruises he had noticed from before. "

It's going" I whisper, starting to feel breathless from his warm breath fanning the sensitive parts of my skin. "Ready for a break?" he asks, question laced with a mischievous tone. I hum in acknowledgment, tilting my head to the side so he can have his fun.

~~~~~~

"I'm gonna head out but I'll be back later" Taehyung says while getting dressed with me still laying there with only a sheet to cover my body. "You're leaving?" I question, knowing he just said that but hoping he'll give me some sort of explanation.

"The guys wanted to meet up for a couple of drinks to talk about the game. Get some rest okay? I'll be back in a few hours" he says planting a soft kiss on my lips and one on my forehead.

I nod as he pulls the comforter over me as well, starting to already to drift off to sleep. "Stay safe" I mumble and flip over to the other side to try and get more comfortable.

He looks down at me for a second and chuckles at my fucked out and sleepy state before walking out of our bedroom and soon I'm left with the sound of him closing and locking the door behind him.

Although this night was bittersweet I'm thankful that it ended up like this. He's not a selfish lover when it comes to sex so I'm always left sleepy and satisfied except for the times that he's more rough, rough is putting it lightly so I guess I should say when he's more violent.

I hate thinking about those nights and I refuse to let those dark thoughts cloud this physical euphoric feeling I have but I can't help but worry about what he might actually be going out to do.

Would having a drink with the guys really make him want to leave his naked and freshly fucked wife alone in his bed? I just don't get it. If he's already been with me tonight could there be a possibility that he would wake up in another woman's bed and leave me waking up alone again tomorrow?

There's no use worrying about it though. It's not like it hasn't happened before, but why do I always let it get to me? Yes he's my husband but our marriage isn't like other ones in anyway shape or form. I'm here when he wants or needs me and that's it. I'm not allowed to want or need him because I'm just left disappointed every single time.

He doesn't love me, he just loves what I can give him and I need to come to terms with that. But it's nights like these where he's gentle and whispers sweet nothings in my ear that make me second guess things.

Maybe he's changed? Maybe he's realized what actually matters? And maybe I'm just getting my hopes up. I can't keep lying to myself but I don't know what else to do. I feel alone most days but these little glimmers of hope are what keep me holding on and unfortunately that's all I have left.

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lightlycareless · 5 days

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I’m sorry if this is a weird question. It’s totally cool if you just delete this if it is but when faced with another guy bothering Y/N, would he be the type to punch a guy out, intimidate them, or talk out of it(y’know that suave way of staking claim so to speak) :3

Hello anon!!!

Ah yes, the ask I thought I hallucinated by some strange reason 🤣 like, I believed I already posted the answer to this but I didn't???

Either way, this gave me the perfect opportunity to do a bit of angst :) a little "Naoya and Y/N realize being together isn't all rainbows"

warnings: highschool au, kind of. slight mentions of violence. you really worry for naoya. he has yet a lot to learn about being a good boyfriend. it's the early stages of the relationship.

Enjoy!

Honestly, this moment… is something everyone around you awaited.

I mean, Naoya is brash, stubborn, rude, selfish, nobody gets along with him, doesn't have that many friends, so on and so forth.

Thus, it was only natural that he'd eventually rub someone the wrong way…

Or be rubbed the wrong way.

Your boyfriend, as stated, was a threat by himself, but when you were added into the mix, it's like all his foul traits doubled. Not to you, of course not, never to the only other person he considered worthy of him.

But towards those foolish enough to think they still had a chance with you after making his claim. To defy the heir of the Zen'in is to have a death wish—wasn’t that common knowledge by now?!

Yet, to those ignorant of this fact, he is nothing but patient enough to remind.

“—Naoya!”

It happened all so quickly. One moment you were being pestered by a faceless student, insisting you’d leave your boyfriend for someone better, a bit more grounded, implying himself to be that person…

And the other, you were crying, heart thundering and hands trembling as the horrifying sight of Naoya beating that same guy unfolded before you.

The fight did not go without retaliation of course, your instigator never intending to take your boyfriend’s punches without retaliation, which lead you to shriek when a particular sharp blow landed against Naoya’s left side of his face, prompting you to run to their side and do all in your power to separate them—

To no avail.

“Stop it, Naoya!” You cried, helplessly trying to get them away from one another; but you never could compare to his strength. Less when he was determined to continue so. “Please! St—stop! You're— you're going to— you’re going to kill him!”

“What is going on??” Nanami exclaims. It wasn't his intention to get near the commotion, always one to avoid trouble whenever possible, but upon hearing your frightened voice, he ran as fast as possible to your aid. “Y/N!”

“Ken—Kento—! You— You have to stop them!” You wailed, frantically tugging at this arm and evoking a sense of urgency. “They're going to—they’re going to kill each other if you don’t!”

The ones that ultimately manage to separate the two are Suguru and Satoru, just before the teachers stepped in, but not enough to prevent them from being reprimanded by them, taking them to the principal’s office to discuss their rightful punishment—regardless of who provoked who.

“After my family sues you, you're fucking dead!”

“Ha! Do you not know who I am?! I'd like to see you try!” Naoya guffaws.

“Stop it already!” Yaga exclaimed “You're already knees deep in trouble, the last thing you both need is to be expelled!”

Ultimately, the threat of being away from you is enough to keep Naoya willing. One would think that he'd worry more about his family and the issue this small disturbance would bring, but truth is that he's gotten out of worse predicaments: him getting into an altercation with a nobody is not something that would prevent the elders, or him, from sleeping.

Though your prolonged silence, the cold judgment imposed by your piercing eyes, and the subtle annoyance displayed in your touch would; feeling tiny for the first time in his life before you, even when you were so attentively tending to his wounds once dismissed.

“Why are you so quiet, princess? Don’t tell me I scared ya’?” Naoya begins, cutting through the awkward silence settling between the two with a teasing tone he hopes would make light of the situation—make you forget of the blood curling screams you let out when he was entangled with that irrelevant kid who’d more likely disappear tomorrow, and move on…

But oh, how wrong he’d be to choose that path. Make fun of your poor heart.

“What? Thought I wouldn’t win? You know me better than—”

“Is this what it is to you? A joke?” You sternly state, stopping tending his wounds and subsequently quieting Naoya up.

“A joke?” Naoya repeats. “A joke would be him thinking he could win against—"

“Seriously, Naoya?! Is that all you have to say?!” You cry, beginning to crack. “Why must you always take it a competitive thing??”

“Ah, so what was I supposed to do? Let him beat me??” Naoya countered.

“There you go again, taking my words out of context! I didn’t even say that!” you whined.

“Well, it’s not like you’ve given me much to work on, princess.” He scowls. “Why are you even so angry? If anything, I should be the one upset because I got hurt for you, and this is the thanks I get!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?!” you gasp, offended as tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. “Was I the one that wanted this—this fight to happen? Did I tell you I wanted to see you get hurt?!”

“It’s kind of expected, don’t you think?” He states, making your eyes go wide. “We’re sorcerers, we’re bound to get hurt—if you didn’t want that then maybe you should’ve considered a different career—

Or a different boyfriend.”

“Is that—is that what you’re going to go with?” you firmly ask, as if giving him one last time to reconsider his words…

Which he did after you set aside the first aid kit, standing up with all intentions of leaving the room that he realized how gravely he’d messed up, quicky to grab your arm and pull you back to him; and though the wounds of his fight made it hurt, more so since you struggled against him, he did not relent.

“Wait, Y/N, please—That came out wrong, I didn’t mean—”

“And what did you mean, Naoya?” you say, with a trembling voice that made his heart sting even more. He’s just gotten out of one altercation to walk right into another one—how delightful. “If it isn’t to mock me for worrying?!”

“No, I wasn’t.” Naoya says, tightening his hold on you, as much as he could anyways. He just… he just didn’t want you to leave, not like this. Not when he needed you the most. “I would never!”

You don’t respond, there wasn’t much to say when his words didn’t match his actions.

“…I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“But you did.” You responded, and now he was able to hear the tears that had begun to slide down your cheeks. “You… you got into that awful fight instead of letting him go and almost got yourself expelled—no, worse! Killed!”

“But it didn’t happen, you know? You… you called for help, and we stopped!”

“Because you wouldn’t listen!” You wept, turning around and taking a good look at his face. Naoya wishes you hadn’t, however, because seeing you cry just broke his heart into a million pieces. “Neither of you!”

“Y/N—”

“You were like… like an animal out there.” You added. “Nothing seemed to snap you out of trance, and I—I got so scared—!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you either.”

“Does it even matter? You said so yourself, this is what sorcerers are supposed to do.”

“No, you know what I meant—”

“No. I don’t. I really don’t know what you meant.”

…

“I did this to protect you.” Naoya quietly adds. “I just… got so angry seeing you being bothered by that idiot, that I… I needed to do something. I needed to get him away from you!”

“…Why can’t you understand this isn’t what I wanted?” You sniffle. “I didn’t want you to get hurt, no matter the reason why.”

“I know, I know you didn’t—”

“Then… why did you do it? What made you so angry, enough to beat him up and risk your career?”

The thought of being undeserving of you. Naoya concluded. Because his words had unwittingly struck a nerve, a thought he’s tried his hardest to push deep within the confines of his mind, but until he makes amends with himself, he’ll never be able to escape that fear.

The notion that perhaps there is someone better out there for you… and that person isn’t himself.

And after the way he’s made you cry, such bitter tears… perhaps that was the truth.

“I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.” Naoya quietly concludes, making your eyes widen once more. “So I will never hurt you again.”

“Naoya, that’s—that’s not what I want!” you gasp, heart clenching at the prospect of him leaving you. “Not at all!”

“What good of a boyfriend could I be if I all I do ends up hurting you?”

“And you think that leaving me wouldn’t do just that??” you fret. “That living a life without you won’t make me miserable?!”

“It seems I already do…”

“N—No! I don’t—I don’t want that! I—I can’t allow it!” you sob, immediately wrapping your arms around him. “I just got you… I don’t want to lo—lose you…!”

Now with tears in his eyes, Naoya tightly embraces you, pulling you as close as possible as he reassures your fears away.

“Princess…” Naoya breathes, cupping your face and making you look to him. “It’ll take a whole lot for me to ever leave you. Probably the end of the world—but you’ll never lose me, ever.”

“You don’t—you don’t know how awful it felt to not be able to do anything!” you confess. “I… I tried to get him off you but I—I couldn’t do it—I couldn’t protect you!”

“No, no, Y/N—That’s my job. I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around.”

“But you—what about you? What if you need me? What am I supposed to do?”

“Leave all the heavy lifting to me, and you…” Naoya smiles, intertwining his hands with yours. “You can patch me up after, eh? Heal me up.”

“Nao—Naoya.” You sniffle, lips trembling as tears continued to flood your face. “Promise me you—promise me you’ll always be careful… please.”

“I promise.” He says, taking your hands to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. “Though I doubt someone as talented as me might need to make such promises—it’s a given.”

“Don’t be silly…” you murmur, he chuckles. “As long as you’re a sorcerer, I’ll always worry…”

“Good thing I have my mochi to take care of me, hm? Have me in her thoughts while I’m away.” Naoya smiles.

“You better not come back too roughed up, then. Or I—Or I won’t be able to help much…”

“Not that I need much, your kisses are sufficient enough to make me feel much—ah, shit, princess?!” Naoya gasps, startled by the stinging sensation of the alcohol-soaked cotton pressed against his skin. “Should’ve given me a warning, at least!”

“I thought you only needed my kisses?” You gently tease, he frowns. “Sorry, I just needed to clean you up before you do anything else, you started bleeding again.”

“…Fine, I guess.” Naoya pouts, hissing whenever feeling the alcohol against his wounds.

“What will happen with… him, by the way?”

“I don’t know, he’s getting expelled I guess.” Naoya shrugs. “I’ll make it happen if not.”

“Naoya…”

“What? He was bothering you—think I’m going to let that slide? No one annoys my princess outside of me.”

“… Thank you, for protecting me, really.” You eventually murmur, putting away everything once done. You then lean forward, placing a chaste kiss over his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, little mochi.” Naoya smiles, kissing you once more. “My sweet damsel in distress, are you going to nurse me until I’m all better?”

“Don’t call me that—and do I have another choice?”

He snickers. “I guess not, but you wouldn’t want it any other way, would you?”

You smile.

“No, I guess not.”

…

“I wouldn’t mind if you dressed up as a nurse too, you know? Heard it helps for a faster recovery.”

“Don’t push it…

…

here, at least.”

Naoya smirks. Maybe he should get a bit roughed up once in a while.

Yes he'd beat up someone for you, naturally. let's not forget his go-to solution in grave situations is killing someone lol.

Anyways, I hope you liked this little something!! It's kind of refreshing to write the Naoya that has yet to learn how to approach you; like, I know I tend to write him perfect in certain aspects, but he was once a... brat, I guess haha. He doesn't know how to treat people, less the one he loves! We're bound to see more of this flawed Naoya very early in the relationship and I LOVE IT hehehe. I wonder what other stumbles I can write...?

Now, take care and hope to see you soon!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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clarisse0o · 2 months

Text

Camp Wiegman-Part 33

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, January 9th; 9:15 AM - At Lucy's Place.

I gently hug the pillow against me, letting out a long sigh from between my lips. Negative thoughts immediately flood my mind, even though I've only just woken up. Sometimes, I wonder why I'm still alive. My life is so miserable that I doubt I'd be missed by many. I tell myself that the only thing that has saved me is my new life. I blink in this unfamiliar room, where I realize I'm alone in a large bed and a room that isn't mine. The events of last night come rushing back, reminding me where I am. I understand my earlier thoughts even better now. A muffled groan escapes my mouth as I realize that Lucy knew about my night terrors and that it’s not something new. Although she seemed calm last night, she must be upset with me for hiding things she didn't want hidden. I’ll have to face the consequences now. She must have held back last night because of my state, but I doubt it'll be the same this morning. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s waiting for me in the living room to discuss it. I check the time before forcing myself out of bed. Hiding from life by staying in bed is cowardly. That’s what my dad used to tell me when I was feeling down in Barcelona. I discreetly leave Lucy’s room and head down the hallway. Not seeing her around, I continue towards the living room. I smile when I find her standing with her back to me behind the counter. As I approach, I notice that she’s swapped her pajamas for jogging pants and a black t-shirt. When she turns around, she must be surprised to see me because she stops for a moment before finally smiling at me.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Hey,” I say timidly, blushing at the nickname.

“I didn’t expect to see you up this early.”

“I don’t sleep as long anymore…” I admit.

“That’s true,” she smiles. “I made breakfast. I hope you’re hungry.”

I relax for a moment, relieved that she doesn’t immediately bring up what happened last night.

“I’d never say no to breakfast,” I reply with a bit more confidence.

“Good. Sit down. What would you like to drink? Tea, hot chocolate? I imagine I don’t need to ask if you want coffee.”

“Hot chocolate, please.”

“Alright, I’ll make that for you. Sit down, everything’s ready.”

I nod gently and turn towards the dining table. Everything is indeed set out. It looks like she had time to prepare a real feast. I sit down, fidgeting in my chair. I’m not particularly comfortable, knowing what’s likely to be discussed soon around this table. Lucy joins me, placing my cup in front of me before sitting across from me with her own.

“Have you been up long?” I continue the conversation.

“Since seven-thirty. I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a run.”

“Oh! You’re brave…”

I distract myself by looking at the table. I don’t know where to look because there’s so much. She thought of everything. There are as many fruits as there are pastries and bread. She must have picked them up this morning. There’s also butter, jam, and even Nutella to go with it.

“Help yourself, that’s what it’s there for,” she invites.

I bite my lip and nod. I can’t bring myself to look at her, especially now that I remember we ended the night in the same bed… In her arms. Damn. Just thinking about it makes me even more uncomfortable.

“Ona,” she calls me, a touch of amusement in her voice.

I finally dare to lift my head and find her looking at me with her head tilted. I get the feeling she can read me like a book right now.

“I think it’s best we talk about it now, huh? I sense you’re going to go crazy before the end of the meal if we don’t.”

I blush, suddenly feeling really foolish. I can feel my heart racing with stress. Still, I nod to confirm what she’s saying. It’s best to talk about it now, to get it over with, even if it means she’ll chew me out properly. What surprises me is that Lucy is more relaxed than I expected. She almost seems to be teasing me. I take a deep breath before starting.

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night…”

My response makes her raise an eyebrow. It’s like she wasn’t expecting me to say that.

“Oh, so that’s all that’s bothering you?”

“Of course not,” I mumble.

“Relax. I’m not going to eat you, you know. Since when are you like this with me?”

Since I don’t want to disappoint you. That answer sticks in my throat. She doesn’t need to know that. Instead, I decide to be honest.

“I feel bad for hiding my episodes from you… Especially since it seems you already knew…”

“I did, yes. I was just waiting for you to come talk to me about it yourself,” she admits.

“Are you mad at me…?”

“A little. I think that if you hadn’t come here, who knows how long I would’ve had to wait for you to tell me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you with something so minor. You already do so much for me, and I was managing on my own until now. It frustrates me to have to turn to you every time something goes wrong with me,” I finish, averting my eyes.

My thoughts are so jumbled. I consider her a friend, but I don’t always feel like she sees me the same way. Sometimes, I feel more like her student and nothing more. It’s ridiculous because if that were the case, I wouldn’t even be here. She places her hand on mine, prompting me to look up.

“Stop thinking like that, it’s not true. I’m doing this as a friend, okay? Wiegman doesn’t ask me to solve your problems. I do it of my own free will because I care about you, and I feel the need to help.”

“It’s fine, I assure you… Everything’s okay for now.”

“Stop lying to me.”

“I’m not lying to you, it’s true. Since you came into my life, so much has gotten better! You have no idea how much you’ve helped me.”

She sighs, running a hand through her hair. She doesn’t seem to realize how deep of a hole she pulled me out of. The change is obvious.

“If what you’re saying is true, then you shouldn’t have any trouble confiding in me when you have a problem. That’s what helps you get better.”

“I do! I came to you when I didn’t know what major to choose. The same when I needed help studying.”

“I’m talking about real problems, Ona. Like your drug issue or your insomnia… See?”

“I do talk to you,” I sigh. “I told you about my problems with my mom and with Feli. You can’t deny that!”

“Maybe, but you’re always hesitant, and you often do it too late.”

“But put yourself in my shoes, damn it! You’ve never lived through what I’ve been through! It’s hard to open up when you’re not sure the person will still be there at the end!”

I freeze, realizing what I just let slip. I hate how easily she gets me to talk. I look up to see her expression soften.

“What are you talking about…?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Now that I’ve started talking, she won’t let it go until she gets answers.

“How do I know we’ll stay in touch once all this is over, huh? I’m already scared you’ll drop me the day I don’t have any more problems to solve…”

“Where do you get these ideas?” she frowns. “I’d always be happy to talk to you, Ona.”

“They’re not just ideas. It’s already happening. You ignore me when I behave all week. If this keeps up, I’ll be tempted to mess up just to get your attention.”

“No, come on. I forbid you from doing that! I’m not ignoring you.”

“Yes, you are. Can you tell me how many times we’ve seen each other these past few days?”

“Ona,” she sighs. “Camp Wiegman is my job. I’m sorry if you feel like I’m ignoring you, but it’s not intentional. I have other things to worry about besides you, though I wish I could avoid them.”

“Sorry… It’s just that… Everyone I’ve ever trusted has a tendency to let me down or disappear… You’ve become the person who knows me the best, and… I really don’t want to lose you too.”

Her sympathetic smile makes me turn away. I don’t like being pitied, even though she rarely does it. A long silence follows. When I look back at her, I find her with a little playful look that makes me frown.

“This isn’t funny, I’m opening up to you here.”

“I never said it was funny. I just find it cute, that’s all,” she says with amusement.

“It’s anything but cute to be abandoned.”

“I would never abandon you, silly! Stop thinking that. If you want to spend time with me at school, nothing’s stopping you from coming to my office during your free time.”

“Really?”

“Of course. If I hadn’t suggested it before, it’s because I thought you preferred spending time with your friends.”

I sink into my chair, suddenly feeling deeply ashamed and foolish. I should have considered other alternatives before revealing my innermost thoughts to her. Now, she knows that she means something to me, even though I didn't necessarily want it to be that way. I feel weak and like I'm giving her the chance to hurt me.

"Hey," she pulls me out of my thoughts. "Everything's okay, alright? I'll always be here for you, no matter what. Never forget that. And if you need to come to me, don’t hesitate, okay?"

I sigh and nod. I wish I could believe it, but it's hard. She gives me a small smile that I struggle to return.

"Well... Can we talk about your nights now? I’d like to know when your first episode happened."

"The first one was the night between Wednesday and Thursday," I confess. "I'm sorry that the second one happened with you."

"Don’t apologize for that. I wanted to be informed so I could keep track of your condition. I was really disappointed to hear it from Alexia."

"You should know that I don’t like to bother people, which is why I didn’t say anything. You don’t need to keep track of this."

"Well, actually, I will be. I want to be notified during your episodes, and I will be, even if it’s not through you."

I sigh and cross my arms, showing my displeasure.

"We’ll find a solution, okay?"

"Okay..." I mumble. "Oh, and, um... Thanks again for letting me sleep with you last night."

"Was it okay for you?" she asks. "I offered it on a whim, but I forgot that you usually sleep only with Mapi or your brother."

My eyes fixate on the cup I had been fiddling with. I realize I hadn’t even had the chance to think about it for a single second, and that’s frightening. I've come to trust her blindly without realizing it. I actually care for her more than I thought. I shake my head slightly to regain my composure and clear my throat before responding.

"Uh, yeah... Everything was fine..."

"Good," she smiles gently. "It looks like you’re starting to improve, huh?"

I awkwardly return her smile and nod. She doesn’t seem to understand that this is all thanks to her.

"Well, now that we’ve talked, we’d better get ready. We have a busy schedule ahead."

I nod enthusiastically. This news delights me. I appreciate that she has planned something specifically for me. This afternoon will be a good way to clear my mind.

"I hope you’re going to show me your version of the city. I don’t want the tourist version. The monuments and all that stuff don’t interest me."

"Don’t worry about that, you can trust me. I’ll take a shower while you finish up. See you later."

She tousles my hair as she passes by to put her cup in the dishwasher, then winks at me before disappearing behind the sliding doors. The bathroom door slams shortly after. I finish my breakfast quietly, appreciating all these small gestures. Once done, I try to tidy up what I can and gather the rest so she doesn’t have to do it all. I then return to my assigned room. I open my suitcase, which has remained in place, to choose my clothes. I opt for a casual outfit with jeans and a shirt. I then make my bed and Lucy’s, thinking it’s the least I can do for her welcoming me so well into her home. It’s also the only way to show my gratitude. When I turn around to leave her room, I jump, not expecting to see her behind me. A wave of heat washes over me when my eyes fall on her body covered by nothing but a towel. Holy shit! I blush even more when I lift my eyes to meet hers. I turn my gaze away to try to hide, even though it’s probably too late for that.

"Sorry, I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you’d be in the living room."

"Sorry. I... I had some time... I took the opportunity to... To make the beds and... And then..."

"No problem," she laughs at my embarrassment. "Can I get dressed now?"

"Y-yeah, of course. Sorry again."

I quickly leave her room, doing my best not to look at her again. I blush once more when I hear that small voice that sounds remarkably like Mapi saying, "See, I told you." It’s complete nonsense. I’m not interested in Lucy. And even if I were, it’s not meant to be. It’s a lost cause. To clear my mind, I head to the bathroom to get ready... Or maybe not. The steam Lucy left in the room reminds me of what I just saw. Once again, I think about the unhealthy ideas Mapi must be having on my behalf. What if she’s right? I shake my head vigorously at that thought. No, she’s not right, and I should probably strangle her for making me think such things. I’m not interested in Lucy, and I’m even less infatuated with her as she suggests. She’s just a friend... A friend I particularly care about. I splash water on my face to shake off this unpleasant theory. I then dry myself with a towel, which I find is already damp. I groan, imagining Lucy using it before me, and grab a new one. I then take my toiletries to brush my teeth, my hair, and finish with makeup. I’ve always kept it simple: foundation with cream, a line of eyeliner, and mascara. I pack everything up, making sure to take my bag with me as I leave.

"BOO!"

"AAAH! What the hell!" I shout at Lucy for scaring me.

I hit her on the shoulder, intensifying her budding laughter. I regret letting Lucy Bronze into my life so much. Her laughter is the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard, and I hate myself for thinking such a thing.

"Oh come on, it was just a joke."

"You’re really mean," I pout, pretending to be upset.

"No, I’m not," she laughs. "Why are you bringing that?" she finally asks, noticing my bag.

"I was going to put it back in my suitcase."

- Why don’t you just leave it here? It’s ridiculous to have to search for it every time. Look, you can leave it here.

Before I can counter her suggestion, she takes my toiletry bag and places it on the counter next to the sink.

- See, I’m organized enough to find a place for you, she teases.

- Thanks.

- Don’t mention it, she says as she pulls out her makeup. I should be the one thanking you for making the beds and tidying up the kitchen.

- Oh, it’s nothing... It was the least I could do.

- Are you ready?

- Yes, yes, I was waiting for you. What are we starting with?

- Don’t be so curious. You’ll find out soon enough.

The frustration and impatience grow within me knowing that I’ll have to wait to find out. On top of that, she announces that we’ll be driving a lot. Long car rides don’t usually bother me, but they might today.

- Okay, I’m ready, she says as she finishes with her mascara. We can leave. Do you think you’ll be warm enough? We’ll be walking a lot and it might be windy.

- Are you telling me I need to change? I ask, looking at myself.

- Don’t you have a big sweater?

- I have one, but not very thick ones. I spend my days in a fully heated classroom, remember?

- Take off your shirt, I’ll be right back.

I grumble but follow her instructions and take off my shirt. She returns shortly with a navy blue sweater, which must be hers. I put it on over my tank top as she advises.

- Is this better?

- Perfect, she smiles. We can go now. Also, take a big scarf.

- Are you taking me to the North Pole? I tease.

- Believe me, you’ll thank me tonight.

I stick my tongue out at her, which seems to amuse her. I put on my shoes, coat, and scarf in my room, then join her in the living room. She takes the time to examine me from head to toe. It seems that my outfit satisfies her, as she finds nothing else to criticize. She then opens the front door, and we use the elevator to reach her car in the basement. Before getting in, we remove our coats and scarves and place them in the back to be more comfortable for the trip. Once done, we leave the building to the sounds of Lana Del Rey. I’m starting to enjoy this CD from hearing it so much. The basement darkness is replaced by the white snow continuing to fall from the sky. The weather here no longer surprises me. I comment on this to Lucy, who has decided to be playful today.

- Is it because you’re humming that it’s snowing? she retorts.

- It’s not likely to be your fault since you never sing.

- Is that a challenge? she raises an eyebrow.

- Maybe. I’m still trying to figure out if you’re a stuck-up girl or not.

- You think I’m stuck-up? she huffs. Well, thanks, that’s nice.

- Well, you’re always so serious at camp. It makes you wonder.

- Stop calling it a camp. It’s a school!

- And you stop dodging the subject. Besides, I’ll call it a camp if I want to, I provoke.

- I’m not dodging, she giggles. Camp Wiegman is my workplace, so it’s normal that I stay serious, right?

- Yeah, maybe too serious for my taste. Especially with the rules, I grimace. Rules are meant to be broken.

- Oh yes, sure. I respect rules so much that you’re in my car right now, she says sarcastically. Maybe I should drop you by the roadside.

- You wouldn’t dare.

- Want to try and see? she challenges with a sly smile.

- Of course, I mock. You wouldn’t be able to anyway.

It’s well known that challenging someone in jest is a risky move, but I’m sure she’d never leave me by the roadside. At least, that’s what I thought until I notice where we are. To put it mildly, nowhere. We’re far from civilization, and we haven’t been driving for long. I start to panic when she surprises me by stopping by the side of the road.

- Get out of the car.

- Seriously? I was just joking!

- Can you trust me for once in your life? she laughs. Come on, get out.

I feel completely disoriented. Still, I unbuckle my seatbelt without thinking and get out of the car as she turns off the engine. Without saying anything, she climbs over the gear shift to take my place. I have a moment of reflection before she gives me the message by tapping the driver’s seat.

- You’re letting me drive? I ask with wide eyes.

- Yeah. You better not make me regret letting you drive my baby.

A beaming smile spreads across my lips. I quickly walk around the car before she changes her mind. I settle into the driver’s seat, not knowing where to put my eyes.

- Adjust the mirrors and the seat if needed, she commands.

I move the seat forward slightly when I realize the pedals are too far. I then adjust the mirrors under Lucy’s watchful eye. I smile as I caress the steering wheel and look at the dashboard.

- Are you comfortable?

- You’re really letting me drive? Aren’t you afraid I’ll mess up?

- I just hope you still know how to drive, she laughs.

- It should be fine...

I buckle up and wait for her permission to start the car. I feel nervous under her scrutiny. It feels like I’m reliving my early driving lessons. It’s been so long since I last drove, and now I’m behind the wheel of an Audi. Lucy’s Audi, no less. When I turn the key, I stall immediately, not noticing that she had left it in gear.

- It’s off to a great start, Lucy chuckles. Are you sure you have a license? Do you even have it with you? she realizes with concern.

- Yeah, I laugh at her reaction. You can check my wallet if you want.

- Hmm, that’s exactly what I’m going to do, she says as she leans toward the back seat.

She rummages through my bag to find my wallet. She seems relieved to find my license and gives me the green light to start. I do as she asks and, fortunately for me, I don’t stall again. I then merge onto the road, making sure there’s no one around. I glance briefly at Lucy, who still has my license in her hands.

- Watch the road, she scolds.

- Oh, come on, I’m managing.

- Obviously, she snickers.

- Where am I going?

- Go straight and at the next intersection, turn right to do a U-turn. There shouldn’t be much traffic here. Do you think you can handle it?

- Normally.

- Hmm, hmm, she smiles. Slow down, will you?

- Are you done yet? I scoff. I feel like I’m hearing my mom when I was learning to drive.

- Hey! I’m far from being your mother, she replies, tapping my thigh.

I mock her while following her instructions. I make the U-turn without any problems, which seems to reassure her. I was lucky there were no other cars. I think she deliberately took this route to give me back the reins. She has me take the previous road to reach a more attractive road. She directs me to the right, introducing me into traffic. I’m proud of my driving, even though I sense that Lucy is not too comfortable beside me. She winces in advance at each possible mistake I might make.

- How did you learn to drive? she asks.

- My dad taught me one summer when I was fifteen. My mom never knew. The day I started driving with her, I had to pretend not to know, I giggle.

- Were you already on bad terms with her back then?

- Yeah. It was a real disaster. At my slightest mistakes, she’d yell at me, which made me mad. We never finished a trip without it ending in a fight.

- I see. Take this way.

Excitement hits me when I see we’re driving along a beach. It’s far from as beautiful as Barcelona’s, but at least there is one. Lucy reminds me to focus on the road. It’s funny how she’s so concerned about her car.

- Do you want to make a stop?

- Can we?

- I had something else planned, but it’s just nearby, so we can park and walk a bit.

- Cool! I’d like that.

I stop at the first parking lot we find and choose a spot where no other cars are around to make sure I don’t hit a mirror. I engage the handbrake and turn off the car with a big smile.

- Happy to finally drive an Audi?

- Thanks for letting me drive at all. I missed it.

I unbuckle and throw myself into her arms, catching her by surprise. She accepts my hug after getting over her initial shock. She then retrieves her keys from the dashboard before we get out. I understand why she asked me to dress warmly the moment I feel the cold air hitting me harshly. It’s even colder than in downtown. I quickly put on my coat and scarf. Lucy puts our bags in the trunk so we don’t have to carry them and lock.

- It's freezing here, I said, pulling up the zipper of my jacket all the way.

- I warned you, she laughed. Follow me. I want to show you something now that we're here.

- Do you come here often?

- Occasionally, when I want to clear my head.

- What do you want to show me?

- Don’t be impatient, princess.

I smile at the nickname she hasn't used in a while. Everyone thinks Leah is the one who started it, but Lucy called me that from my first day. We walk a bit more until she stops in front of a rock formation that is more imposing than the others. I grimace, realizing her intentions.

- Don’t tell me we’re going to climb up there?

- Yes.

Without waiting for my response, she starts climbing. I sigh and try to follow her at a certain height.

- Remember that I’m afraid of heights, right?

- Don’t be a wuss. I promise it’s worth it. Come on, give me your hand.

Since she doesn’t seem to change her mind, I take her hand and she pulls me up to her level before continuing higher. I eventually reach the top without falling. She finds a flat spot where we can sit. It wasn’t so complicated after all. I look out at the horizon thoughtfully. She was right; it was worth it. The view from up here is magnificent. The breeze whistles in my ears, but the place is so soothing that I don’t mind. To think I almost missed this spot. We can see everything from here, but no one can see us thanks to the rocks in front of us that hide us.

- This is where I come most of the time when I need to be alone.

I tear my eyes away from the sea to look at her. She gazes out admiringly. I appreciate that she’s sharing something personal with me. She promised she would this weekend, and it seems she still keeps her promises.

- Tell me about yourself. I want to get to know you better... You know, the real Lucy. Not the camp instructor.

- What do you want to know?

- I don’t know. Tell me about your family, your friends, what you like... Everything.

- Everything? she chuckles. Am I tormenting you that much?

- Totally.

A smile forms on her lips, but she still doesn’t look at me. I turn my attention back to the waves crashing on the rocks below us. I can already imagine this scene in my sketchbook. She takes a deep breath that prompts me to meet her gaze.

- Alright. One thing you can know now. Where do you want to start?

- I already know a few of your friends... So why not talk about your family? If you don’t mind, of course.

- Alright, but only if you tell me about yours in return.

I grimace but agree anyway. It’s the only way to learn things after all.

- Very well, she says, taking a deep breath. To be honest, I’ve never known my real parents.

I don’t hide my surprise. I expected many things, but certainly not this revelation.

- I was adopted at birth, she continues. My parents were clear with me as soon as I was old enough to understand. I never worried about who my real parents were. To me, I already knew them and didn’t need anyone else.

- Wow... I wasn’t expecting that, I admit.

- I know, she smiles. It didn’t stop me from living a normal life, quite the opposite.

- Are you close to them?

- Quite, yes.

- It didn’t stop you from leaving them to come here.

- It was only for studies; otherwise, I would have never left, she tells me with a small smile. I don’t really have much more to add, she chuckles, shrugging. My life can’t be as exciting as you might imagine.

- Don’t you have any siblings?

No, I’m an only child. My mother couldn’t have children, which is why they adopted me. However, I consider Jenni like a sister. We’ve known each other since childhood and grew up together.

- I see... So, you’ve never had any conflicts with your parents or anything like that?

- Not really, she giggles. They’ve always let me live my life. Well, let’s move on to you. What are you still hiding from me? she asks curiously.

- Well, I have divorced parents, a blended family... I’m now waiting for my mother to announce that she’s getting remarried.

- Do you think that will happen?

- I suppose. It would be logical, I shrug.

- And... And your father? she asks delicately.

I could have sworn she’d bring him up. It’s one of the few things she doesn’t know about my family yet. I look at her for a moment, noticing no insistence in her expression. If I wanted to, she’d let me dodge it, but that’s not the most courageous decision. I look ahead as I begin to answer her.

- There’s not much to say, I murmur.

- Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.

- If there’s not much to say, it’s because he’s no longer here.

I spoke before my mind could torment me too much. I didn’t want to backtrack now that I was decided to tell her.

- He’s dead, Luce. He’s just dead.

A heavy silence surrounds us at this news. Saying it out loud still hurts just as much. Tears burn my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away with the back of my hand.

- H-He died on a mission when I was eighteen. He was a soldier. H-His death caused my breakdown after high school...

If I look at her now, I won’t be able to hold back the tears that threaten to fall for good. Without saying anything, she puts her arm around my shoulders to pull me closer to her. I don’t think twice about snuggling against her desperately.

- Don’t hold back. You have the right to be devastated...

These simple words release my tears. She squeezes my shoulder and kisses the top of my head.

- It must be hard, but know that you will never be alone again. I’m here now, and I don’t intend to leave you. Okay?

I nod, unable to respond any other way. My throat is too tight, and I might break into uncontrolled sobs.

- D-Do you promise? I ask with a broken voice.

- I promise.

She holds me a little tighter, giving me all the comfort I need. The words are finally out. Someone other than my family or Mapi now knows. I’ve wanted to manage to do this for a long time, and I’ve finally succeeded.

- I’m glad I met you...

- Me too, Ona.

She gives me the time I need to recover. Long minutes pass while I start to feel better and slowly straighten up.

- I think we have a plan waiting for us, don’t we? I ask with my slightly hoarse voice.

- That’s right, and it’s quite packed. Do you feel up to continuing?

- Yeah, I want to enjoy what you’ve planned for us.

- Good, she smiles. So let me suggest we start with the fairground over there, she says, pointing to the place I saw earlier.

- That sounds perfect.

And I mean it. I wanted to go there the moment I saw it, and now she’s offering it to me on a silver platter. She helps me up and down the rocks. She mocks me when I close my eyes on the way down, but it was the only way to manage it. She suggests we head back to the car to get to our next destination faster. I didn’t say no, feeling my feet freezing. It was definitely the best choice.

Saturday, January 9; 3:30 PM - Downtown Manchester.

Our late morning at the fairground was perfect. Lucy is amazing. She managed to make me forget our conversation from this morning. It’s the first time I’ve seen her as anything other than my boss. We’ve just left the restaurant we went to after having fun. She’s taken the wheel for the drive back to downtown. I was happy she let me drive her Audi at least once. It’s the only one that has trusted me so much, and I enjoyed it immensely. The little restaurant she took me to was cool. She once again paid for everything, despite my protests. I ended up abandoning the argument.

- Are you ready to walk?

- Yeah, it doesn’t bother me.

She smiles at me before we stroll through the streets. I don’t know where we’re going, but I trust her. Well, that was until she stopped in front of a dilapidated building. I remain skeptical as she pushes open the door.

- What are you doing...?

- Are you being a wuss?

She challenges me with a mischievous smile, raising her eyebrows. I hate it when she does that. She knows I can’t say no to her. She gives me a nod to go into the creepy building, and I do. She goes ahead to climb the stairs without seeming bothered by the environment.

- Are you okay? she asks, glancing at me.

- Uh-huh...

She chuckles before turning around and climbing at a faster pace. She doesn’t seem to notice that I’m already struggling to keep up.

- What are we doing in this creepy stairwell?

- Patience, you’re too curious. Remind me to ban horror movies for you if you can’t handle places like this.

- I’m not scared! I mutter.

- Have you seen your face? she giggles. You look like you’re going to have a heart attack at the slightest noise. The building is abandoned; there’s no one here.

- You can’t be sure!

- There’s no one here, I’m telling you, she laughs.

I’m relieved when we finally reach the top. She forces open a heavy metal door that eventually creaks open. I cautiously step in behind her. My eyes close as the daylight dazzles me. She props the door open with a slab she found on the ground. I realize we’re on the roof of the building. I slowly move beside her, taking in the surrounding buildings.

- Wow...

I look at Lucy, who’s smiling at me. I momentarily pause on her outstretched hand.

- I know you’re afraid of heights, but you need to see this.

I take her hand without thinking. She carefully pulls me to the edge, which is protected by a safety railing. I hold onto the railing as she positions herself behind me to let me take in the new view.

- Look down...

I take a deep breath before looking. I’m momentarily overwhelmed by vertigo, but Lucy places her hands on my shoulders to ground me. I smile, appreciating what I see. It’s breathtaking. She’s showing me Manchester from above, and it’s a real spectacle. The streets are crowded with as many pedestrians as cars. Everyone continues their lives, unaware that we’re watching them. Walking across the city is so much more effective.

- Visiting in your style, huh?

- Absolutely, she smiles. Not so bad, this haunted building, huh?

- Shut up, I chuckle. Admit it’s scary!

- It’s true I was hesitant the first time I came here, she laughs. But it’s worth it, right?

- Yes! You can’t imagine the number of drawing ideas that have come to mind since this morning with everything you’ve shown me.

- Hey! Copyright then. These are my private spots.

- Is this the first time you’ve brought someone here? I ask curiously.

- Yes and no. Let’s say someone showed me these places, and... I’m showing them to you now.

She leans over the railing beside me to see the city. She looks at me for a moment, a smile forming on her lips.

- These are my personal places that I’m sharing with you. Make sure not to divulge them.

- I won’t say a word, as long as you tell me about the person who showed you these places.

She raises an eyebrow but smiles at the seriousness of my request. It’s a chance to learn more about her.

- It was my first girlfriend... My first love, I’d say. Her name was Kiera.

- What happened...? I ask softly.

Her eyes remain fixed on the city below us. She doesn’t say anything for now. Maybe my question was a mistake. I was about to speak, but she beats me to it.

- She was the first person we met here with Jenni. Let’s say she was a bit like you... She had drug problems she was trying to overcome. I helped her through a detox.

- Oh... I understand better now why you reacted so well with me...

- Yeah, it’s thanks to her, she laughs nervously. I had helped her get out of that. Or so I thought. Everything went wrong in a day. One of her friends called me in a panic. He said she wasn’t responding and he didn’t understand what was happening. My first reaction was to grab my keys and go to her. When I arrived, I just found my girlfriend’s body... She had overdosed.

A strange feeling washes over me. She told the story without any apparent emotion. There it is, her dark memory that she had kept hidden. I try to meet her green eyes, but to no avail. Her reprimands and worries about me become so much clearer. She doesn’t want me to become like her. She’s afraid of losing me like she lost her. It’s my turn to put my arm around her shoulders. She surprises me by resting her head on my shoulder.

- Please don’t fall back into that.

- I won’t. And if I’m feeling down, I’ll talk to you about it.

She ruffles my hair before kissing my cheek. It’s the first time she’s shown such an affectionate gesture towards me.

- Alright, we’ve had enough gloom for today. Do you have any particular desires for this afternoon?

- I thought you already had a full schedule?

- I do, but I prefer to ask you first.

- We’ll stick to your plan, just because I love what you organize.

- Alright, she says, standing up. We can go to Old Trafford if you want. Otherwise, I also saw there’s a street art exhibit nearby if you’re interested.

My eyes light up at the mention of her second suggestion. Her smile is amused.

- The exhibit, I suppose?

- Obviously!

- Good. However, it doesn’t start for another hour, she tells me, checking her watch. But we can take a walk in the park first if you like.

- Good idea, so we can do both.

I’ve always loved nature anyway, and it seems she does too. We head back to the car to reach the park, as it’s too far to walk from here according to Lucy. In any case, she’s truly gone above and beyond to make me happy until the end.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #barca femeni #ona batlle #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

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fresh-fanfics · 5 months

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Yandere! Kaoru Hanayama x AFAB! Reader

TW: Depression, Mommy Issues, Stalking, Obsessive Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Delusional Thoughts.

Reader: A foreign college student who's currently taken. She's a bit of a brat, but has a good heart.

So I finally have an idea for a fanfic with Hanayama. I really like the idea of making Yandere fics with him, he just seems so perfect for them. This fic is gonna be a multipart, I'm used to making slow burns so if you don't swing with that, I don't know what to tell you. Buckle up? Anyways, enjoy.

Hanayama was no romantic man. Even with all the money and power in the world, no girl would ever want to stay with someone as dangerous as him. For a while, he was satisfied with this life. He had accepted that no person would ever look at him in adoration and pure love. As empty as it was going day to day, girl to girl, brothel to brothel, it was enough to distract him from his loneliness. When work became too much, he distracted himself with empty pleasure and the moans of prostitutes that were just there for the money.

He laid down against a brick wall, bleeding on the cold and dark floor at a filthy alleyway. It had been one of those days where the underground world was at a state of unrest, violent gang wars breaking out without any signs of stopping. He had no choice but to step in, show everyone who the real boss was. Hanayama knew he would survive. He always does, but sometimes he wished he didn't. He knew he needed to move, but peace like this was a luxury. Any man that tried to disturb this solemn moment would not live to tell the tale. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the cold wind blow against his face.

"Oh my God, sir, you're bleeding! Are you okay? What happened?" A feminine voice took Hanayama out of his thoughts, his eyes opening to find a woman that bent down with concern in her eyes.

He stayed silent, his steel-hardened gaze observing her delicate stature. She was a cute little thing, the equivalent of a tree sapling that had yet to bloom. He trumped her in size and strength, yet she was unafraid. Hanayama had seen hardened men twice her height and stature that would quiver at his feet, but not her. This naive woman who dotted over him like cattle. He watched her ramble about and rummage through her purse for some kind of thing that would stop the bleeding.

He knew it was useless and no amount of nursing from a stranger was going to make the pain disappear, but he commended her effort despite how foolish it was. Did she even realize who she was helping? She was naive to be tending to a man that has crushed millions of gangsters like a grape.

"Okay, almost...Got it." She had tied a makeshift tourniquet around his left arm using her cardigan.

"Can you get up?"

The large man gave a slight nod, struggling to stand up on his two feet while this stranger tried to help him stabilize his trembling form.

What was this woman doing? She must have either been the most oblivious thing on the planet or the most wreckless. She certainly didn't look like she belonged here.

"You speak good Japanese for a tourist." He spoke at out of the blue, making her slightly jump from his sudden comment.

The woman gave a forced chuckle.

"Actually, I've been living here for a while now. I know I don't exactly look like I am, but this is still my home as much as yours."

Kaoru felt conflicted, processing the words inside his head. Despite being born and raised in Japan, it didn't feel like home. Being raised in a Yakuza family was not easy for a young kid. Violence was your normal, and there was no telling if you would live to fight another day. He envied her naivety, the innocence in her eyes that he never got to keep. It was depressing to think about, to say the least.

"We definitely need to get you to the hospital. These injuries are not something you can shrug off." She reached for her phone before he grabbed her wrist with his other hand, causing her to flinch from its tight grip.

"No need. I know a doctor. I'll give you the number." He noticed her trembling form, loosening his grasp as he dialed the numbers and letting the phone ring.

"Hello? Who is this? How did you get this number?" An elegant voice could be heard from the other side, calling out to whoever was there.

"Kureha. I need your services." Without even uttering his name, Hanayama knew that Kureha would recognize his deep and raspy tone. He spoke with conviction and directness.

"Kaoru? What happened to-You know what, it doesn't matter. Where are you right now?" Kureha sighed in exasperation.

"I'm in an alleyway at the Red Light District near Deathmatch pub. Come quick." He hung up without so much as a goodbye, dropping her phone in her hands.

"You can go. I don't need your help anymore."

The foreigner girl's face soured, glaring at him as she shoved her phone in her bag.

"Hmph. You're welcome." She grumbled, gritting her teeth and turning up her nose at rude man.

"I guess I'm not needed here. Good luck. I hope you recover well." Sarcasm dripped from her tone as she left him alone in the alleyway.

He watched her figure disappear through the bustling crowds in the city streets without even as much as looking back at him. Hanayama stared into space, alone in a cold alley once again. Despite her bratty behaviour, he didn't mind it at all.

"Huh. Strange. This girl is something else. For someone who claims to have lived here for a while, she's damn clueless. I'll admit, she has guts to talk down to me like that.."

Before he could dwell on it any longer, a series of loud sirens blared down the streets with an ambulance stopping nearby. Paramedics clamored to take him away for treatment, rushing him towards the hospital.

It would seem that he'd have to hold that thought for a while...

To be continued.

#baki #baki dou #baki fanfic #baki hanma #baki son of ogre #baki the grappler #kaoru hanayama #kaoru hanayama x reader #baki hanayama #kureha shinogi #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #yujiro hanma #doppo orochi #retsu kaioh #pickle #baki pickle #kiyosumi katou #jun guevaru

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thesmpisonfire · 1 year

Text

Okay so, I wanna talk about my sonboy Richas, my guy Felps, their relationship, and everything about yesterday as well

So, lets go :D

First thing, Felps actually really don't like taking care of Richas when he's without his armor

Felps has the terrible memory of being the one (together with Cellbit) to watch Richas first death. The three were at a cave and Felps and Cellbit were taken down first and had to watch Richas getting swarmed and die far from their grasp

The death was reverted, but still, when Felps logged in next time, Richas had JUST died to the bull again, so he already had 1 life. It was the very same day, just a couple hours after. Felps always reinforced about the armor, to the point he didn't let Richas take it off even when safe at Foolishs place when he could see Leo didn't wear it

Felps fucking loves that kid, he's just the quieter dad. He won't scream that much, when he panics, he shuts down and focus on the problem. He's the best dad to talk about feelings and often is the one who talks Richas out of his spiraling self deprecating thoughts, while other dads don't have the same touch

Felps has the patience to talk with Richas and hear Richas points. He always is the one talking him into a shower even if it takes a whole trip beforehand so Richas can have fun before it. He sings a lil song to get him through a shower. Ever since he came back from the lab, he trusts Richas a lot with his own strength, he knows Richas can defend himself even better than Felps can defend himself

It means a lot that Felps is the only dad Richas will listen to more easily, even if sometimes it takes a lot of talk and bargain to do so. Richas is a difficult kid, he channels all his sadness and pain into being silly and overly courageous, which means he will be a disobedient kid, he will put himself in danger, he won't listen to his dads if he can make a joke about it and it has been getting worse lately

Richas is Not doing okay, he's constantly scared of losing the ones he love, he feels easily replaceable which makes him panic and act out in 'jealousy'. He has said before he fears his siblings don't really like him and it's why he always wants to have family around, he knows he's a problem and has even apologized to Bad about it once. He thinks he can't express his love through words when he has written so many beautiful things, he paints bc its how he thinks he can better translate his care

Yesterday, after Bad took him and Felps to the graveyard and out of it, Richas went back with Felps and put some flowers around their graves. A small talk started when Felps wondered if the dead eggs were looking down at them, but also couldn't really believe it because they'd be too far up there to actually see anything. Richas then said how people used to tell him Bobby was up in between the stars, but they stopped telling him that 'story'. Then, this talk happened

"Do you think they'd [Dead eggs Richas never met] like me?"

"Ofc they would! Everyone loves you! They'd love you, Richas"

"If I had died today, would I meet them?"

Felps goes quiet for a couple seconds here, then goes back to talking

"Maybe, maybe not. We can never be sure, Richas. What if you died and it's just nothing after, huh? It's a big bet. You can't keep thinking like that and then go throw yourself in front of a zombie horse to find out if they're at the other side"

"Yeah, I wouldn't be able to annoy all the dads, it wouldn't be worth it... I'd miss you all so much" (He used the word saudade)

"Awwn... But you would be dead, Richas. We would be the ones missing you, we would be the ones staying behind"

And to me this is a very telling moment. Because Richas didn't realize people would miss him as well, he just thought about how he'd miss being with the others. He also says how he'd be in hell, missing his family but also laughing at tragedy. When Felps asks why hell, Richas goes "You really think I'd end up in heaven? With the way I am?"

Felps spends the rest of the stream hyping Richas up, telling him how much he's loved and how much everyone cares for him. Felps manages to get through Richas after a while, and they have a nice moment together. Richas already arrived to the square without armor, after having recently argued with Forever about it, and Felps didn't mind bc that area was all lightened up so less mobs were spawning, plus the aforementioned trusts he has on Richas

No one expected the horse because it came from outside the square, right out the border, and literally fell on top of them. Felps was quick to go after it, and Richas was caught out of surprise and got height damage as well, eating through 2 totems (and also having to switch out the other ones from his hand due to the rule)

Felps was smart about the horse, he always hit up high so there wouldn't be any risk of a misclick, he hit crit after crit pushing the horse away so he could better kill it without risking Richas, and he did it! I understand BBHs scare but everything was already solved and Richas was halfway being revived already

If anything, the trip to the cemetery scared Felps more than it did Richas. Richas is well used to the threat of death, he plays with it by jumping into mines and purposefully walking without armor around Forever. But Felps isn't. He wants his kid safe, he wants him alive. Felps was willing to never come back if it meant Richas could have an extra life, he would die over and over for that kid

After everything, he talked with Richas, and the kid didn't rlly need to be convinced to wear his armor now that he knew how the square can be tricky. Felps didn't need to yell, or compare Richas to anyone, or play lil games. Just a talk, and Felps' trust that Richa would now do his part, and he did!

Each mob they encountered next, Richas and Felps stayed side by side. Felps let Richas kill them first bc he knows Richas likes it, but always helping and telling him how he was doing it well. When they were rowing around later in the boat, music playing, Felps went on about how it was all that mattered

Richas was alive, Felps was alive, they got a scare but they were okay now. And it was all worth it for these calm, happy moments. These were the ones that should be remembered, the ones that made it all worth it

#qsmp #felps #q!richarlyson

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shootingmorningstar · 6 months

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Anon, I am so sorry .ᐟ I accidentally posted your request wayyyyy too early and had to delete it .ᐟ That being said, thank you so much .ᐟ My favorite part of writing is getting to see it resonate with others, so comments like these really make my day. Anyways, let me just say that I love this rq. You're right, that's such a funny scenario.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀Alastor With a Vee!Reader .ᐟ

You hadn't expected to climb the ranks at Voxtek. Really, you hadn't. You started off as nothing more than one of the many assistants Vox seems to get off by yelling at. Just another spineless sinner that would probably end up selling their soul to one of the three overlords, more than likely your boss.

That is exactly how your friendship with Alastor started out, actually. It wasn't too often you got a day off -- there isn't exactly any form of worker protection in hell -- so you were delighted to be able to take a stroll through Pentagram City. Maybe you could buy a new dress, or even stop by Rosie's Emporium .ᐣ Any hopes you'd had of a nice peaceful day were dashed, however, by your boss' face lighting up your cellphone.

Ugh, he was calling you .ᐣ Really, on your one day off .ᐣ Nevermind, of course he was. It seems you signed away your right to any peace the moment you became an employee under the VoxTek name.

Answering it with a simple ❛ how can I help you, sir .ᐣ ❜ had resulted in a frustrated yell so loud it resembled the high pitched screech two electronic devices echoed when forced near each other. He wasted no time in telling you a report you hadn't even written was absolute garbage and that you needed to come in and fix it now.

Or, at least, that's what you assume he was going to say. He'd gotten no farther than ❛ in ❜ before a shadow crept up on your phone, promptly ending the call.

Confused, you spin around to see Alastor. The Radio Demon, one of the most powerful sinners to ever be sent to Hell . . . . had ended your phone call .ᐣ

Now you were even more confused. You knew both Alastor and Vox despised each other -- that much had been made clear a little bit after the second to last extermination with your bosses power play becoming a duet.. battle .ᐣ

That much was public information but why in Hell's name would he ever interfere with a phone call .ᐣ He hated modern technology. You're spared from your confusion, though, when a staticky voice crackles to life in front of you. ❛ Why on Earth would you ever allow him to speak to you in that manner, dear .ᐣ ❜

From that day forward you began to see Alastor more and more, each time with a new piece of advice he had to offer you on dealing with such a terrible boss. It was absolutely orchestrated on Alastor's part, but either you didn't realize or just couldn't bring yourself to care. What you absolutely realize, though is that Alastor's advice is working. Each little bit of information he gives you dives a little bit deeper on how to deal with Vox -- how to actually have a backbone against his outrageous demands.

Fearing one day that you might push back just a little too hard and be met with the lethal force of an angry Overlord, Alastor gives you a tiny, what appears to be hand carved wooden radio. Your fear is warranted and he knows it -- you wouldn't be the first VoxTek employee to end as nothing more than a written off casualty. The idea is simple ; speak the demon's name into his namesake if any of the Vee's put you in danger and he would come to your aid.

The little trinket acts as a security blanket. From that day forward you tell Vox what you think of his ideas and where exactly he can shove the piles of paperwork he didn't feel like doing and rather pushed to you.

And Vox is impressed. You can't speak to him the way you do without being Velvette or Valentino. He doesn't know whether you're spunky or foolish, but he decides he doesn't care which. He also decides you're wasted as a secretary. In no time you're rising the ranks, going from secretarial supervisor, managing the entire office, all the way to Vox's personal assistant, making yourself known as VoxTek's rising star.

As his assistant, you find yourself attending meetings with the other Vee's often -- and to your surprise, they like you. Especially Velvette. Enough to demand Vox to share.

That's how you became a member of one of the most feared groups in Hell, the newest Vee, their underdog assistant. You take on responsibilities from all three of them, keeping them running smoothly.

All the while you're finding time to go out with Alastor for tea and a stroll through Cannibal Town. He usually despises physical contact, so you can't seem to understand why he wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked .ᐣ

What you hadn't seen was the sinner with their phone out, camera pointed at you and ready to snap a shot of Hell's newest Vee hanging out with their sworn enemy. The picture explodes on social media before Vox can get it under control, and before he knows it it's being reposted to Sinstagram twice for every one he deletes. He's outraged, calling you and demanding an answer. Alastor has long thought of this, though -- so as the two of you planned, he pretends to walk away, leaving the view of the cameras Vox is undoubtedly watching you on before using his magic to cut them off.

It's then you explain that you'd befriended the Radio Demon 'for the Vee's' in hopes of 'gaining intel to sabotage him and his Hotel.' It's a lie, but it appeals to Vox's sense of hatred for Alastor enough to slip by undetected. The idea of finding out his enemies secrets thrills him, actually.

Continuing your friendship has never been easier. Occasionally, you'll ask Alastor an overly intrusive question, he'll reply with a falsehood and you both try not to snicker as you try to act like you're trying to go behind his back to report the answer to Vox.

To be honest . . . Velvette and Valentino don't really seem to care half as much about Alastor as Vox does. They're very interested in the power felling him would bring them and so your fake spy mission does please them, but seeing you beside him didn't really send them into a frenzy like it does Vox. Velvette makes a comment about you trying to get him to change -- ❛ seriously, I know the cunt's all about avoiding cameras, but has he got to avoid mirrors, too .ᐣ that cane went out of style before radio .ᐟ ❜ and that's the end of it.

Alastor had intended you to serve as a tool against the Vee's from the very start, but I think he genuinely does enjoy your company. Sure, most of his motivations are self driven and semi-sociopathic at times, but he isn't incapable of making genuine bonds. His friendship with Rosie seems to be strong, and he's at the least fond of Mimzy and Niffty.

It surprises him regardless. He doesn't even have to be sneaky about his true intentions to you -- you know what he wants and gladly comply all the while enjoying his company. I imagine he enjoys having someone to dish into all of the Vee's shortcomings with, too.

The way I personally interpret this dynamic is platonic, but if it were to step into romantic territory, Alastor would need to be the one to approach it. He has little to no romantic desires or attraction, so I think any sort of confession would be a major turn-off from him. He wouldn't react well to others feelings being pushed onto him. However, if he were to bring it up, you're plenty patient enough to wait while he figures things out. You dealt with Vox's verbal abuse for years, this is lightwork in comparison.

Platonic or romantic doesn't matter, what does is the excitement you get when Alastor picks you up from work at VoxTek HQ and the amusement you share when you hear the sound of a monitor shattering from Vox's office.

If you were ever to be found out and stripped of your title, you have an ally and friend in Alastor, and that's by far the most meaningful thing to come from your work.

Hi, hi .ᐟ Another post out. I've been thinking on this rq ever since I got it and I think this is a good way to both show how evil and manipulative Alastor can be while also having fun. Alastor is a character that is so hard, at least to me, to keep in character while doing x r.eaders. I hope this sits well with any Alastor stans reading this .ᐟ

As always, let me know what you think .ᐟ Hearing back from you guys keeps me writing. Enjoy ♡ .ᐟ

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #kinda #platonic alastor x reader #aro friendly #ace friendly #aroace character #this prompt kinda escaped me sorry anon #i just can't see alastor having a friend in the vees and not using it to his advantage #i aim to stay as in character as i can #aroace alastor #hazbin alastor

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yuzurins · 1 year

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# to tell you the truth

04 — strangers with memories

smau masterlist ∗ previous chapter ∗ next chapter

was it foolish for you to assume that you wouldn’t encounter anyone you knew while working at a bookstore less than a kilometre away from your university?

probably.

be it anyone else, you most definitely wouldn’t have reacted this dramatically. but of course it had to be itoshi rin, coincidentally the one guy you wanted to avoid at all costs. you haven't seen the guy in person since high school graduation, and this was definitely not how you expected it to go.

when you first realized it was him back at the bookstore, you quickly bowed and turned around to pack up your belongings, hoping he got the message. it irked you to even spare a single glance at his face, as his features dug up memories that you worked too hard to bury. knowing rin, you expected him to leave immediately after to avoid interacting with you, but to your surprise, the athlete walked over expressionless and casually placed 2 books down.

“these two," he pauses and inhales, "please.”

you held back a very strong urge to gasp; never in a million years would you have ever believed that the itoshi rin would ever say that 6 letter word to you. what was this guy up to? was he trying to deploy reverse psychology or something?

“okay.” you pursed your lips, and scanned his books. “are you signed up for our membership program?”

he merely nods.

you raise an eyebrow. so it isn’t his first time here?

as he punches in his phone number, you take the moment to examine his figure out of curiosity, though not much as changed about him since high school. you do notice that his eyes seem half-lidded, and you hate it so much how the first thought that comes to mind is the fact that it’s past his regular bedtime.

"what are you even doing here..." you mumble subconsciously a little too loudly, widening your eyes immediately after as if you had asked yourself that question. (though it wasn't really a question and more of a complaint)

rin scoffs, breaking his stupid act. "buying books? obviously?"

"did you have to come to this store?" the receipt starts coming out and you place it in a bag with the books, handing it over to him reluctantly after. "and this late too?"

he snatches the bag from you with more force than needed. "why does it matter to you? shouldn't you be grateful i'm even giving you business?"

"gee. wow. thanks."

"you better be."

you roll your eyes at him. "thought you still slept at 8 like an old person.”

"thought you were smarter than to assume nothing's changed." rin furrows his brows, narrowing his eyes at you.

shrugging, you rest your head on the back of your palm and stare at him. "i just thought you still had no life. and i'm not wrong about that, am i?"

he grits his teeth and you find yourself smirking at his exasperation, until he says, "at least what i do with my life gets me results, miss second place."

he did not just say that.

you retract your arm from the desk to cross them, a scowl adorning your face. "watch your words, itoshi. you better savour that moment as much as you can because it's not happening again."

rin smiles sarcastically before turning around and leaving. you scoff, but it isn’t until you hear the bell of the door ring that you feel safe enough to exhale. there was no way that that just happened right now. you were so focused on not trying not embarrass yourself in front of rin that it slipped your mind what books he bought, but it didn’t matter anyway. why did you even care if you embarrassed yourself in front of him? every memory about what happened then has been locked away, and you swear that you wouldn't hold a childish grudge anymore. the only reason why you still act bitter to him is because he suddenly keeps scoring higher than you, and your pride refuses to back down to him.

rin’s just an annoying guy who just keeps getting lucky in school, that’s all.

a notification from reo brings you back to reality, reminding you that you’re technically working overtime now and you need to close up as soon as possible.

as you walk out of the door, you fish out your phone and respond to incoming texts from the groupchat, humming to yourself as music played in your ears. the route home is more than familiar enough to you, but you still take a glance at the area around the bookstore just in case. there’s a park, a ramen store, an aesthetic cafe, and a convenience store that someone dressed in all black is exiting. that’s unusual, you think, because it’s late, and this neighbourhood is fairly secluded.

then you remember who was just at your store and would be in the proximity of the area.

hurriedly, you turn around and speedwalk in the direction of your apartment. he shouldn’t have seen you, right?

there’s a slight rustling of leaves and you warily steal a quick glance behind you without thinking.

why on earth is itoshi rin walking behind you now?

notes: hi sorry it’s late i fg LOL n e ways i don't like this !!! but writer block is killing me and i need to write something so bear with this t-t you get the idea anyways (barely proof but its ok)

pairing ∗ itoshi rin x f!reader

synopsis — all you wanted was a peaceful and productive uni life, but despite your pleas, your plans start crumbling when the star of the football team, itoshi rin, begins to beat you in every aspect possible. as you confront the inevitable, what happens when you uncover secrets behind an unforgettable event from the past?

taglist ∗ send an ask / comment to be added or removed

@kitorin @starthz @jleijl @rintosei @strawberrypockybox @beanxiv @ode2rin @h4nman @hanmastattoos @kaitfae @idk-bro-gay @piichuu @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife @invictax @chaosinanutshell @exatse @kirameki-kumo @heartsoji @mellozhi @certaindreampost @limerence-lu @nutsinspector @kawaii-angelanne @rroxii @saesins @anngelllla @anurst @y-sabell-a @hellothere9597 @evilenchantresss @msameikanevaeh (if your name is in bold it means i can't tag you)

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lamemaster · 9 months

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Love her, not me

Request: Hey I love your writing! Really like your finrod works I love him with an edain reader and I think the potential internal conflict with him about amarie and reader would be so juicy??? "Do I wait for my past elven lover who will be with me for eternity? Or explore this new love with an edain who will leave me eventually." THE DRAMA

Pairing: Finrod x Reader

Genre: Angst and ✨DRAMA✨

AN: This has been coming a long time I am sorry for the delay. I hope you like it anon💕

"Don't be so nice to me, it might get my hopes up." You push away the cup of tea presented in front of you.

Seated next to you Finrod's smile freezes at your words. An awkward but perfectly diplomatic smile settles on his lips. It is unlike the one you have come to love.

The king of Nargothrond clears his throat, his eyes wandering all over the room. Landing anywhere but at you. Perhaps it was too much to even look you in the eye. "It is merely tea between friends. We are still friends are we not?" He asks, his voice meek. It is different from the elf who manages to charm every race on the face of Arda.

"Friends do not cancel meetings to meet up for tea, friends do not insist on meeting alone; devoid of any other company." Your words are sharp. They seem to cut the air laden with tension between you both. "And we Finrod can never just be friends. My heart won't allow that without stringing itself to foolish hope."

This marked your last chanced meeting with the King of Nargothrond.

Falling for Finrod Felagund was foolish but also foolishly easy. It was easy to forget that the world did not revolve around him. He, who was magnificent compared to any other creature to walk on the face of Arda, was not the center of the world. A presence too perfect that it felt as if Eru himself had taken the pain of shaping every inch of him.

So, yes you fell in love with him. It was inevitable. But you never intended it to be anything more than the burden of your own heart. You were afterall too prideful to confess to him like every other stary-eyed Edain.

Your entire time was devoted to transcribing the oral legends of your language to his while keeping your eyes from staring at him for too long. But somehow, your eyes met with his smiling ones. A fragment of the moment that you wished to never have happened.

The sole moment was enough to tug the King of Nargothrond by your side. What started as a conversation about rolling r’s lent itself into debates, evening strolls, sharing books, watching him play a harp, tracing constellations until the stars led your hand into his. And it fit so perfectly. As if it was made to be held by him.

The path from fingertips to the caress of lips was a slippery slope. It felt too right to cradle his face in your palms and feel his lips on yours. His curls slipped into your fingers settling into your palms softly.

You were eager. You wanted it more than anything else. Perhaps it was the eagerness of possessing that kind of love, that blinded you.

But it did not take long for the sweetness of your kiss to turn into the bitterness of the realization. Your love was doomed to perish from its conception. The celebration of Finrod’s reciprocity to your affection was dulled by a growing ache of the truth that he was not yours. You had known it. The King of Nargothrond had a lover waiting back in the blessed lands.

You pulled away from him. Your hands slipped off from his curls. Your heart had protested every single movement that took you away from him. You ached to be closer despite the abyss of truth between you and him.

However, more painfull the look of horror on Finrod’s face or how he had stormed off leaving you alone. It was a rejection that came with the broken hope of acceptance.

For weeks you did not see him. Those felt the heaviest of your mortal life. So, you busied yourself in finishing your work during the days and blacked out drunk at night. But even a glimpse of him seemed to evade you.

Bundling your misery into the fevor of finishing your labor, you stained your hands with ink. There wasn’t much that you could offer him but your absence. Then so be it. Finrod would never have to remember you or the insignificant kiss that centuries could bury into a forgotten memory.

You were ready to give him the present of your absence, until he showed up. Just the sight of him had deluded your mind into thinking perhaps…he too felt something.

But the Finrod who returned was different. He returned with an oblivion to whatever had transpired between you both. As all your heartache was a construct of your own making. For a fleeting moment you believed it.

He greeted you with a warm smile, the same smile that once marked the beginning of your friendship to him. It was as if the pages of time had turned, erasing the chapters of heartache and leaving only the ink of indifference.

"You seem to have been quite occupied in my absence," he remarked, glancing at the scattered parchments and ink-stained hands that bore witness to the agony you had poured into your work.

Your heart, which had dared to hope, now sank like a stone. The weight of his obliviousness pressed upon you, and you realized that the love that had gripped your soul had failed to leave a lasting mark on his memory.

With a forced smile, you replied, "Yes, I've been immersed in my tasks. A distraction, if you will." The bitterness of those words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of the wounds that refused to heal.

He could have fooled you, if not for the foreign distance that loomed between you both. Opting for the seat farthest from you, he did not pour over your work like he always did. He still laughed and rambled passionately about the characters of ancient legends but it was contained. It was King of Nargothrond not Finrod you had to yourself for a second of your life.

You played along the role he assigned you. A friend, a coworker, nothing more. It was better this way.

The distancing should have stirred anger within you, should have humiliated your pride, but instead, it became a silent torment that gnawed at your soul. Nights were spent in solitude, your mind spinning with futile thoughts of how to bridge the gap, how to reclaim the love that had slipped through your fingers.

In the quiet moments, when the world slept, your heart wrestled with the demons of longing. You crafted scenarios in your mind, scenarios where the King of Nargothrond melted away, and Finrod, with the sparkle in his eyes and the warmth in his smile, returned to you.

Perhaps his cruelty would have harderened your heart. Stripped you of irrsupressable longing had the slivers of his own desire not slipped into your meeting with him.

Finrod was subtle in his desperation, a master at concealing the traces of his own desire. A mere mortal might not have detected the nuances, the subtle shifts in his gaze, the hesitation in his voice, or the way his fingers lingered on the pages of your work. But your heart, fueled by its own yearning, became a relentless seeker of any sign, any glimmer of reciprocation.

The unexpected errands, the discussions about tea, the orchestrated crossings of your paths—each encounter with Finrod seemed to hold the promise of something more, yet every meeting left you with the bitter taste of a friendship that refused to evolve.

In a moment of desperate rebellion against the unending cycle of longing and unfulfilled desires, you threw yourself into the arms of a random stranger who happened to approach you during dinner. It was a bold move, driven by the need to sever the invisible threads that bound you to the King of Nargothrond.

You felt his eyes on you, a gaze that had become a constant presence in your life. The decision to embrace the arms of another was not driven by the desire for a new connection but rather a desperate attempt to shake Finrod from his silent yearning. It was a calculated move, a ploy to force him to confront the reality of your actions.

As the stranger engaged you in conversation, you played along, allowing the charade to unfold. Finrod's gaze, once filled with a subtle longing, now bore witness to a scene that shattered the illusion of exclusivity. It was a painful spectacle, a dagger aimed at the heart of a love that had become entangled in a web of unspoken words.

You wrapped your arms around the stranger whose name felt awkward on your tongue. You let the man whisper filth in your ears. Words that could have been loud enough for Finrod to hear. You let his hands roam all over you. And then while you could still feel Finrod’s gaze glaring at you, you led the man to your room.

You spent the night with him breaking all and every chance of ever attaining love you desired the most. Even as the man held your body, kissed your lips, you could not help but wonder how he, the one you love, would have done it.

Finrod would have been more gentle, he would have never degraded you with the speech the man used taking you for an easy catch. He would perhaps have held you hand. But you don’t know. You will never know.

The tears that flow down your face that night are not of pleasure but of sorrow. Even as your body trembles with pleasure, your heart feels nothing but the pain of the hurt you have caused him.

After kicking out the stranger from your room, you lay back down on the sweat soaked sheets that smelled nothing like what you had once hoped for.

You made the choice for him. You have surrendered to the fair elleth who waits for your beloved seas apart. The fates have played as they were set to do. He will be happier next to her, you tell yourself. He had to be.

Someone out of you both had to find joy. It had to be him.

In the final moments of Finrod's breath, his eyes remained fixed on you. There, right beside him, you kissed his wounds with gentle lips, a tender gesture in the face of impending darkness.

"You are one stubborn elf, Nom," you chuckled, your arms wrapping around him. In this moment, nothing held you back from him. In the passing moments of death, you could love him freely, even if only as a figment in his mind.

“I love you,” he whispered aloud, a confession that resonated through the darkness of Angband. Your kisses paused, surprise flickering in your eyes even within the dream. “I love you so much that I cannot stop. I tried,” tears streaked down his cheeks. “I tried not to love you. I stopped Aegnor, but I myself could not resist. I still love you very much.” Ages worth of grievances and confessions spilled from his lips.

You wiped away his tears with hands that still held the fragrance of ink and paper. “I love you, Finrod. There is no other reason for my existence but to love you,” you spoke, tilting his chin to kiss him once more. “All my actions, all my motivations have been for nothing but you.” He knew it better than anyone.

He had known it, and the knowledge cut deeper than any wound. His inability to act on his feelings had led you to make a choice, a choice to bow to a man you never loved.

Bleeding out on the freezing ground, Finrod, the firstborn of Arafinwe, dreamed not of Valinor, his siblings, his parents on nether shores, or of Amarie as you both had wished. His dreams were of you. In those dreams, Finrod leaned into the warmth of your hands, which seemed to numb his pain and replace it with the thrumming pleasure of your touch. In those dreams, he could finally love you without the constraints of the waking world.

#the silmarillion #silmarillion x reader #finrod x reader #finrod felagund #bro angst #unrequited love #oomph

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otomiyaa · 1 month

Text

Inspiration

Hori x Kashima

[Fic Reupload] - Among the fics that died without me even noticing, this HoriKashi oldie from 2017. A little late to say this, but it did have a special place in my heart...

Summary: Sakura gets dragged along by Nozaki to watch Kashima and Hori while they practice at their drama club. Things turn out a bit tickly over there which is kinda awkward when you’re in the audience, watching and hearing every single thing… for inspiration! (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1K

“And why exactly are we here again?”

“I told you. Inspiration.”

Sakura had kinda hoped Nozaki had different plans for them for the day, but alas, today it seemed like a good day for Nozaki to gain inspiration by watching Hori-senpai and Kashima-kun’s drama practice. Of all things!

No offense though, she absolutely loved them and especially watching their bond develop was definitely entertaining. But… Was Nozaki ever going to take her out on a bit more… romantic activity? Probably not.

“Hayaaaa-hah! Surrender, mister!” Kashima said in a low, heroic voice, but Hori swung his fake sword at her and roared.

“Nevah!” The clinging of swords continued. For a moment it looked as if Hori was winning this ‘battle’, whatever play even was this? But then Kashima hit Hori in the ribs with her sword and she cried triumphantly.

“HAh! You’re dead!” She poked him with the sword again and Hori howled and fell back.

“Am not!” he barked, but Kashima poked him repeatedly with the sword now and stepped on top of him with one foot.

“Dead dead dead!” she yelled, and Sakura snickered. Those two were just hilarious and…

“HEhe! Don’t touch my tummy, that tickles!” Apparently the sword-poking had taken a whole different route now and Sakura watched how Hori curled up and Kashima looked at him with wonder.

“Hori-senpai is ticklish huh,” Sakura said with a happy smile, and she noticed Nozaki looked intrigued as well.

“Does it hm!?” Kashima reacted like anyone probably would have. She dropped the sword and tackled him, straddling his legs and attacking him with quick pokes and prods.

“Senpai has a ticklish tummy! Awww isn’t that cute!”

Sakura nodded but wasn’t sure if Kashima even realized they were here, watching them. Nozaki hummed in approval when Hori screeched; Kashima was now wiggling her fingers all over Hori’s stomach under his shirt and the latter cried out hysterical bits of laughter.

“Why are you filming!?” Sakura barked when Nozaki aimed his phone at the pair. A smile covered his face and he just looked so… entertained.

“Stop! Stahahahp noooo!” Hori barked when Kashima wrestled him down with her larger body and proceeded to tickle other areas than his tummy. Hori seemed like a person who was ticklish everywhere… Sakura got a shiver there for a moment. So relatable.

“I s-swehehear! Get oahahaff!” Hori’s laughter was hilarious alright.

“I’ll stop if you surrender! Give up!” Kashima roared, tickling the living daylights out of her partner. Hori seriously laughed like a girl. He was also flailing around on the stage, and it was just one hilarious sight since they were wearing costumes as well and Kashima was still sticking to her role.

“I CAhahan’t!” Hori squealed, shaking his head firmly, but Kashima wasn’t stopping.

“Don’t be foolish! Give up!” Kashima said louder as to beat the volume of Hori’s hysterical laughter.

“I’m ahahalready dehehead! Stop it youhou – !” Sakura smiled but was getting worried for Hori’s life there. Nozaki had stopped making notes and was only watching and filming now with that adorable smile on his face. Was this really giving him inspiration or…?

“Meh-mehehercy! Please mercy you stupid witch!” Hori was sounding so frustrated now hehe, but Kashima wasn’t letting up. All Sakura could see now was one poor heap on the floor that was Hori, and Kashima bending over him as she wiggled her butt in their direction.

She continued to tickle Hori and even a few “PFFFFTTT”-sounds were heard, and Sakura got another shiver. Raspberries. Things were turning a little bit more awkward now.

“K-Kashima-kun’s quite merciless huh,” Sakura said, trying to pierce through the awkward silence between Nozaki and her.

“Yeah,” Nozaki said with that undying smile. Ugh. Sakura shivered again when Hori’s laughter got a higher pitch since Kashima was probably getting to an even worse spot now.

“NOohohoho hehehelp meeee!” Hori screamed, but Sakura was stuck to her bench and Nozaki looked like he had no intention of helping at all.

As if Kashima only realized now that they were here, she suddenly looked up and waved at them while she continued to tickle Hori with one hand.

“Hellooo!” she greeted. Bad choice since this left her unguarded and Hori managed to get her down with one violent kick.

“Kashima-kun!” Sakura squeaked, but Hori dragged her out from the stage and wheezed.

“You’ll pay for this. You’ll fly from the roof, drown in toilets, and –!” He dragged her out of the hall and their hysterical voices vanished in the distance. Sakura’s lips twitched. She’d always known these two were so extreme.

“Kinky,” Nozaki said, and Sakura jolted.

“Flying from roofs and drowning in toilets isn’t kinky!” she barked, still half dead inside just from hearing that word coming from his mouth, but Nozaki chuckled and put his phone away.

“You know he won’t do that,” Nozaki said, and Sakura sighed. Of course she knew that, but she was just a little bit worked up by this… atmosphere.

“So… did you get inspiration?” she asked, Nozaki stared at the empty stage and nodded.

“I did,” he said with a thoughtful expression. He then looked at her, and Sakura’s heart stopped. Crap.

“No!” She made it for a jump but didn’t come far. Nozaki pulled her back and pinned her on top of his lap.

“Nononono Nozahahaki-kuuhuuuun!” she screeched as Nozaki attacked her sides and tummy with tickles. She flailed on top of his lap like a baby and laughed until her lungs were burning.

Probably somewhere in this school Kashima was suffering from some similar vengeance coming from Hori, unless she managed to overpower him again. who knew.

“Surrender, surrender!” Nozaki copied Kashima as he tickled her like crazy, and Sakura really lost it there.

“Thahahat doesn’t even make sehehense!” she cackled, and she was in serious trouble when he scribbled her stomach with all ten fingers, making her lose her mind. For a moment her flailing and kicking caused her to wriggle free from his grip, for like only a brief couple of seconds before Nozaki pulled her back and doomed her even more.

“Lehehet me gooo! Go wrihihite your mangahaha!” Sakura laughed as she was held up against him by her arm and tickled under said arm until her body spasmed unhealthily.

“Nah. I like this better.” Nozaki smirked and pinned her arm even higher above her head to properly access the weak hollow of her armpit.

“Ehehehe nooooo!” This was honestly so unfaaair. She was never going with Nozaki on his inspiration-tours ever, EVER, again!

#reupload #gekkan shoujo nozaki kun #horikashi #tickling #tickle fic #hori #kashima #chiyo sakura #umetarou nozaki #otomiya!writes

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echantedtoon · 7 months

Text

Love Is Blind Ch4 A Hesitant Agreement

(Warnings: Depictions of Kagaya's illness and scars Yn has a small panic attack.

Just for context. For the story at the moment Kagaya is 20 and Y/n is 19 years old.)

Quietness filled the space with uneasy silence.

The silence was temporary interrupted by a shaky hand gently reaching out to grab a warm cup off the table sat in front of him. The warmth had a sigh escaping his lips before the cup pressed against the smile. Sweet tastes of green tea and honey danced along his taste buds and soothed the dull stinging leftover in his throat from earlier coughing. The relieving feeling was bliss. Despite the fact that he felt at least three pairs of eyes staring at him but he had the before thought of expecting this reaction to first seeing his face.

"As I was saying......even he ....... happily filled life......Wedding!"

F/c eyes stared at the blind man in front of you. Kagaya smiled continuing to drink the tea a maid brought him earlier after his grandfather had practically carried his body back into the house. You remained silent however. Your mind blank and numb trying to process the reality that was presented to it. Your mother and father sat next to you equally as bamboozled and shocked at this entire situation constantly exchanging glances and looks at one another as if hoping the other had an answer to this. The only one who really seemed to make an effort to keep talking was Mr. Kotoya who smiled and kept speaking. You couldn't comprehend what he was saying, only small pieces of entire paragraphs the old man continued to ramble on about otherwise all you could comprehend was white noise and a ringing in your ears as your blank mind still stared.

"The garden........I just know-........ excellent cakes in town!.......... precisely!" Mr. Kotoya looked to laugh after finishing whatever he was currently rambling on about your mind didn't hear before reaching out to pat his grandson's back fondly. Kagaya didn't say anything but smiled politely at him. "Did........I............kimono fitting!"

It was only then after minutes of this happening you were snapped out of your long stupor by your mother slapping an arm around your shoulder before scowling at the men in front of her. "There is absolutely no way on earth my daughter is going to be fitted for a wedding dress tomorrow! Are you foolish?!"

You were finally snapped back with a jump as you blinked and all at once you were hit with the ice cold reality of it all. Of the situation. Of Kagaya.

"I'm only suggesting that we make preparations is all."

"Preparations?! I'm not allowing you to just marry my daughter off like a matchmaker!"

"My lady, it's already fated by the gods! Why else would they bring our children together but to be married? And if I say so it's a perfect match!" He gushed clasping his hands together and smiling widely. "An herbalist! That's almost as wonderful as a doctor! Kagaya will be in such good hands with someone who could take care of him!"

Take care of him?

The question echoed in your mind bouncing off the walls of your skull as you just stared at him now freezing up with hard realization brought up by that statement. Take care of him. You were expected to....take care of him? Like a patient?

"Are you sure you're Kagaya Ubuyashiki?" The question escaped your mouth before you could stop yourself.

Kagaya only nodded calmly. "I am."

It was Kagaya Ubuyashiki.....

THIS WAS YOUR SOULMATE?! F/c eyes looked him up and down and up and down. Over and over again. Staring at the white orbs of his eyes. The shaking of his hands. The purpled old scars sat upon the upper part of his face. No...No it just couldn't be! This just HAD to be some kind of mistake! There was absolutely no way that THIS man was your soulmate...

"But....You can't be." Your head shook slowly. Your words had the blind man slightly lowering the cup from his face. "You're not-...." You couldn't find the words to finish your sentence.

He was absolutely nothing like what you've been imagining about and praying for. All that time praying to the gods as hard as you could. All the small offerings you left out, taking painstakingly long hours to pick the freshest fruits and baking the sweetest foods in order to appease the gods. All the time making sure you'd be on your best behavior to not anger them....It was all for nothing?!

The dreams you had of having someone to travel with you. Share sweet memories with. Of a handsome man taking you by the hand as you two walked along a beach-

"*COUGH COUGH!!*" Kagaya carefully but hastily placed the cup back down as another small round of coughing erupted from his body causing him to turn his head.

THIS MAN COULD BARELY STAND ON HIS OWN LET ALONE WALK!! Your whole reality shattered around yourself. The feeling was intense. It was like having a nice house you've worked on decorating for years to hopefully be standing up strong one day only for giant hands to wrap around the walls squeezing it all until it cracked and crumbled into nothing but ashes, and then someone offering up a second rate hutt with a shrug and saying-

"This is the best we could do. It still kinda fits with what your life is. Be grateful you got this."

The coughing continued the more you stared. And an emense overwhelming feeling of disappointment bubbled up from deep in your chest. This is who the gods decided was your perfect match?? This is what they thought would be the ideal life partner was?

"Please excuse me," Kagaya rasped out raising a shaking hand to cover his mouth with a handkerchief in a vain attempt to still be polite. "I-I do not mean to come off as such."

Mr. Kotoya patted his shoulder. "Don't apologize for it. It's not your fault, but things will be better now."

Kagaya did not respond to his grandfather but turned his half covered face in your direction and shakily reached out a hand. "I do deeply apologize to you for not exactly being what you might've expected of a future husband, Y/n. But I do want to be able to have a chance to get to know you better. I've been curious about you ever since I read your name upon my hands." A softer closed eye smile was given to you as he lowered the handkerchief.

You just stared at him. Flashes of hypothetically scenarios flashing in your mind at the speed of lightning after the words 'future husband' left Kagaya. A vision of yourself having to literally carry your husband down the aisle at your own wedding, watching as your guests laughed and danced as you could only sit next to your husband not being able to enjoy any of the activities with him because he was too weak and tired. A vision of you trying to kiss him only for him to go into a coughing fit each and every time. A vision of you struggling to calm down a crying newborn and other children fighting, trying to parent them yourself as their father could only weakly watch from his bed. A vision of you walking him around, having to help him eat, and having to constantly watch over him day after day night after night for the rest of your life staying forever confined to his bedside. His own bedside nurse for everything and anything he needed. Never again being able to have freedom or time to yourself because you'd be tied to him by a commitment through ceremony.

You didn't notice too distracted by the rapid thoughts running through your mind but your body back in the real world started hyperventilating.

Everything that you every worked for-..GONE!! Everything you wanted to do-.. FORGOTTEN!! Anything you had already accomplished-.. WOULD BE ALL FOR NOTHING!! Your entire life would be stripped from you and your desires would be nothing but an afterthought. You'd be nothing but someone's personal assistant for the rest of your life!! It was all over.

"Miss Y)n, please calm yourself."

A voice called out to the panicked mind.

"Shh. Shh. You must listen."

You jolted back as something gentle grabbed either of your cheeks and something pressed against your forehead. F/c eyes deeply staring into white orbs. Confusion filled with panic,mouth panting heavily heaving fresh air into burning lungs.

"Shh. Shh. There you go. You're alright. There, there. I've got you." Something-.. SOMEONE soft and warm and gentle pressed against your forehead continuing to gently speak."Breath in through your nose and out of your mouth slowly. It helps to calm your heart."

You stared at the blind orbs of Kagaya as he calmly smiled at you literally forehead touching to forehead silently......All panic and reason was thrown right out of your brain as a fountain of scalding hot red passed over all through your neck and face making your pale hair look like a cherry was wearing a wig.

"Hhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaa-!? Off, off, off!!"

You had finally found your voice again squealing the words and harmlessly slapping at his hands holding your face. Kagaya only chuckled and slowly obeyed your wishes removing himself from you and sitting back down. Your flustered face burnt a red. Your mother looked one second away from throwing herself across the small table and strangle Kagaya as she glared deeply at him. Your father seemed to be both surprised and thinking about something. Meanwhile Mr. Kotoya never lost that bright smile of his.

"This meeting has no more need to continue on," Kagaya spoke calmly and exhaled, "It's clear to everyone that she wasn't properly informed of my condition before coming here, and it's more than obvious that the thought of any kind of relationship between us is not something she wants. Ms. Y/n will not be coerced or forced into any kind of lifelong commitment."

Everyone stared in surprise at Kagaya but after a moment you sighed in great relief. Oh thank the gods for this fix up. Kotoya sputtered looking at him in disbelief.

"Kagaya, do you have any idea what you're saying?!"

"Yes. I am highly aware."

"But she's your soulmate. The gods have chosen her!" The old man's hands desperately grabbed onto the blind man's haori coat despite Kagaya not even batting an eye. "The gods have sent her to you to be your wife! It's her duty to be by your side-"

A single, shaking hand was instantly held up silencing the old man instantly as if he feared the invoking the blind man's supposed wrath. "I will not take a marriage that is founded on force and deceit. If Ms. Y/n wishes to not engage in this then that will be my final decision. No one here will make her take my hand."

Your father's brows rose higher. Your mother still frowned but looked surprised. You just felt an emense sense of relief. Oh thank the gods for this. You supposed Kagaya really was an honorable man like Rengoku mentioned.

"Well then...If that's your final answer then we really don't have anything else to discuss here." Your father slowly stood up. "And no more reason to be here." He bowed lightly. "But we thank you all for your hospitality."

Kagaya also smiled and bowed to him. "Thank you for coming to visit me. It was very nice to meet all of you." Kotoya sputtered strange sounds looking between all of you and Kagaya moving his arms until Kagaya reached a hand out to grab his grandfather's arm. "Be still. I apologize for all the trouble caused by my grandfather. He wants what's best for me but he went about it the wrong way."

Your mother huffed before also standing up and pulling you with her. "Well next time he gets it in his head to harass someone, you better knock some sense into that thick head of his!"

"HONEY!! I apologize for my wife. She can have a temper when she's stressed."

"It's quite alright considering everything that's happened. He should've asked properly."

You were relieved. You could go home. You could have that life you've always wanted-

"Which is why I ask you, Mr. and Mrs. L/n, for your blessings to court your daughter."

A glass shattering sound went off in your mind. WHAT?!

There was a soft grunt escaping from Kagaya as he reached out to push himself up, struggling to get to his feet but eventually able to slowly stand up on his own carefully. Smiling politely right at you. "Ms. Y/n, I would also like your permission to start courting you."

You blinked. "What?'

"I will not force you or try to change your mind if you still say no, but I meant it when I said I would like to still get to know you better. Perhaps we could find a way to allow us to talk more?"

You stared at him mouth wide in shock. "I-.....I-I don't know."

"Hire her to help you for a year!" You nearly jumped as Mr. Kotoya jumped up with a smile and solution. "She'll be paid, have her own room, and have free reign of the grounds!" Kagaya tilted his head at him. "All she have to do is help you a little bit and make some medicine when you need it! That way you two can really get to know one another and she can decide if she wants to live here permanently! If she's not satisfied by the end of the year then she can do whatever she wants!"

Kagaya hummed in thought. "...That does not seem like a bad idea." He turned back to you. "But again it's entirely up to her."

"..... Would you excuse us for a moment?" Your father reached out to pull your surprised mother across the room and turned their backs towards the lot of you. He pulled her close and the two of them began to whisper on about something. You could only watch as they spoke. At one point your father pointed back towards Kagaya. Both briefly looked up at him, spoke a little more, before turning back around as your father cleared his throat. "Well we've talked it over. Our reason for coming here was to stop all the harassment from your grandfather as my daughter deserves to have a life of her own. However Mr. Kagaya Ubuyashiki, your kindness and understanding of the situation has not only moved us but shows how mature about the situation you are. BUT-..." Your father sternly held up a hand pointing at him (despite the fact he was blind). "I meant it when I said my daughter deserves to have her own choices. She's a grown woman now and can make up her own mind. If she chooses to go back then we'll support her and won't force her to be in any marriage soulmate or not." You mother nodded agreeing with everything he said

You sighed relieved and smiled. You were so lucky to have such wonderful parents like them.

"However like I said she can decide what she wants to do with her life. If she wants to accept your deal, then we'll allow her without fighting to change her mind. You'll have our blessings to court her if and ONLY IF Y/n agrees to it, and only if we're promised she'll be treated fairly."

"You have my word she'll be treated with the upmost respect." Kagaya bowed his head to them. "I thank you both." Before he tilted his head back to you. "But your choice is entirely yours. I will respect any choice you make."

Your choice huh? You froze being put on the spot as four heads turned to you. Staring and waiting for an answer. It was intense, nerve wracking even. Even though you wouldn't be forced at all and freely given the choice. You really didn't want to but for some reason before you even knew what you were doing, a single word escaped from your mouth-

"Yes."

#demon slayer #Kny #kimetsu gakuen #kimetsu no yaiba #kagaya ubuyashiki x reader #demon slayer kagaya ubuyashiki #kagaya x reader #love is blind

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bleachification · 1 year

Text

trojan horse - dazai

+ dazai x reader (fantasy au)

+ this is ch. two of all that glitters is not gold (the prologue)

ch. one is here: dissonance

ch. three: in reverence

Golden armadas decorate the sea like jewels fastened upon a crystal hand, dotted plains of might and power—all at the behest of your nation’s adversary. The kingdom’s greatest foe… Prince Dazai Osamu.

Princeling, as you used to call him. A nickname borne of affection and sullied by betrayal.

Tonight, the royal fleet departs for its homeland with jewels, satins, and you aboard. In less than four hours, your vows will be cemented into your country’s history and the war shall halt—on paper, that is. The mere thought makes your head throb.

Waving the useless deliberations away, you turn away from the window. A sweeping glance across the space before you elicits a tingle of discomfort that crawls up your spine and burrows its way into the back of your throat. Wooden chests and velvet cases filled with your most prized material possessions line the north-facing wall. The furniture, stripped of any and all embellishments, look like skeletons. Your room seems infinitely more spacious now that everything is packed up. Barren of comfort, you swallow at the sight.

It is almost as if you are a stranger in your own home.

“Is everything ready?” You ask.

“Yes, your highness. As you requested, I have packed up all of the items written on your list,” the man behind you replies.

“Including…?”

“Yes,” he hesitates. “Although, if I may speak, your highness…”

You turn towards the large window, gaze drifting across the sparkling cityscape wrought with peachy hues and sharp outlines. “You always do Chuuya. Go on, say what you intend.”

Chuuya runs a hand through his hair, huffing in irritation. “This is dangerous… foolish. Even for you.”

You crack a small smile at his bluntness. It is a comfort. “Did you just call me a fool?”

You’re teasing him. Just like you always have. Just like you did back when titles did not matter and your loved ones were not handpicked in favour of court politics. Back when things were much, much simpler.

Chuuya only scoffs. “You had to hear it. It may as well be from your childhood friend.”

You level your gaze at the ginger-haired man, the face you have known since birth only stares back at you, unfazed. “Ah, so you’re speaking as my friend, then? Not my personal aide?”

“And if I am?” He asks.

“Then I appreciate your concern. But I will be fine. I have gone through much worse than that of a wedding, remember?” You raise a brow when he rolls his eyes so dramatically you fear they’ll fall out of that thick skull of his. When he doesn’t speak, you continue on, “I can handle this. I can handle him.”

“He is not the person we used to know! He never was,” Chuuya protests.

A shooting star falls across the sky, leaving a glowing path in its wake. You make a silent wish and pray the heavens hear you. “I understand.”

“Do you really?” Skepticism coats his every word.

You turn your head slightly, just enough so you can see him from the corner of your eye. Chuuya crosses his arms, impatiently tapping his fingers against his bicep as he expresses his disdain.

“Yes.”

Your answer only irritates him further. “If that was the case, you wouldn’t be packing belladonna in your bags and strapping daggers to your legs! If you insist on going down this path, Y/N, you could–”

“Die?”

You are well aware of the consequences of your plans, death included. But if the cost of revenge is your life, you will gladly pay that price.

Chuuya realizes this and his irritation fades to something softer. Something sadder—more fearful. “Yes. Precisely that. You could die.”

You step down from your windowside and make your way to Chuuya's side. Luggage litters the marble floor, causing a misstep or two. In what feels like a mere moment, the dying sunset casts the already lustrous room in a gorgeous light. Warm orange tones pour into the room like a golden tide, flooding out any and all dullness.

You nudge his shoulder with your own, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. Chuuya looks like he’s about to go and strangle Dazai himself just to keep you from coming to harm. “You don’t believe I can do this? That I can hurt him? Bring him to his knees?”

Chuuya shuffles so that he is facing you, still scowling, still with arms crossed. “You know it’s not about that. He… Dazai is out of his mind. Who knows what he’ll do to you if he uncovers your true intentions.”

Chuuya says his name with such scorn you almost feel bad for Dazai. Almost.

“Do you really think that I’m unaware of how… cruel he is?” You pause, a distant memory floats around the back of your mind; a painful past you can never outrun, “I experienced that inhumanity firsthand, Chuuya… watched as it destroyed my family, and nearly my empire as well. I couldn’t burn the image out of my mind if I tried.”

Your best friend falls silent. You do for a second as well, resolve hardening in the process.

“For that, he will pay. By no one’s hand but my own,” you vow.

A hand that you have trained for years, all for the sole purpose of hurting him. To be able to bear the heavy weight of a blade—to lift it and apply just enough pressure that you are able to draw fear from his eyes and a line of red across his throat. The thought of having that much power over Dazai… it is addicting. Exhilarating. Terrifying.

Chuuya stares at you in both irritation and concern, his nerves firing at every end as he paces the length of the room, muttering as he does so. “So damned stubborn… Cannot believe… Just like when…”

“Are you done cursing under your breath? I do still require your help with preparing for the ceremony,” you comment, rolling your eyes as his grumbles get louder.

Chuuya practically stomps his way back to you, huffing in defiance. “If there ever was a record, let it be shown that I am vehemently against this moronic plan.”

You make a noise of agreement. “Duly noted. If that is all, will you come help me with my cosmetics now?”

You stroll over to the cushioned seat tucked under the shimmering vanity hidden away in the corner of your room. A round mirror pebbled with milky pearls and brushed with diamond powder sits atop a glossy desk surface. The ornate piece was gifted by your father for your birthday many years before. For a second, you are glad for the marriage. For as long as it lasts, you will never have to see that sickening thing again—never to be done up on the whims of the Emperor.

You sit down. The chair is soft—too soft—and you sink further into the cushion than desired.

Chuuya grabs a few elaborate accessories, powders, and a shockingly large pile of fabric from the drawers and closet next to you. He drops them unceremoniously onto your empty bed and shifts through the mess before he finds what he is searching for; a small pot of safflower lotion.

“Yeah, yeah. I still don’t understand the reasoning behind all this dress-up,” he mutters. He hands you the lotion and busies himself with the mountain of clothing on the bed.

“It is something I hope you never come to understand, my dear friend,” you sigh.

After all, there is no worth in a canvas without paint, much less a doll bare of face.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　

Four days and four nights. That is how long you have been at sea, a prisoner of your father’s accord on the enemy prince’s ship—No Longer Human. You find the name a bit morose for your liking, but there’s no accounting for taste, you suppose. The others following aren’t much better. You spared the various liners a glance before boarding the capital ship. From memory, there was one called Twin Dark, and another painted with swirling red letters of: The Crystal Rose. You’d much prefer being on the latter—roses are your favourite flower. They have been ever since childhood.

You wonder…

No. You shake the inkling of a thought out of your head. The chance that that man would remember something so obscure about someone he so despises… laughable.

But you don’t laugh. You don’t do much at all. You stare out of the floor-to-ceiling glass that is more akin to a wall than a window. Vast ocean greets you, sparkling like a veil of crushed gems under the setting sun, sitting snug below an infinite sky.

Someone knocks on your door—three quick raps. You make a noise of confirmation and the door quietly opens to reveal a stranger. The man who walks into your room is tall and lean, with thin wired frames resting on the sharp bridge of his nose. His hair, long and so blonde it almost glows, falls across his shoulders and ends at the small of his back. There is a sternness to his expression—humourless and collected, but not cold. In fact, there isn’t anything antagonistic about him.

Under normal circumstances, you would give him a friendly smile, say hello, maybe even compliment him on his clothes. Today is not a normal circumstance. He wears garments stitched of a gorgeous blue silk, reminiscent of the midnight sky. Layers of fabric pool off of him, white and grey, all covered by a traditional robe. The robe is lined with silver edges and tied together at his front with a matching sash. The patterns on the outerwear swirl together, falling lotus petals that almost come to life with his movements. From the looks of it, he must be a high-ranking official in Dazai’s court.

The blonde man pushes his glasses up with his left hand and adjusts the box he holds in his right. It doesn’t exactly look impressive, a rectangular package wrapped in silver paper. It’s the size of a large book. The only thing out of the ordinary is the black lettering on the surface; a phrase written in glittering cursive. Your name.

The blond man bows. “I greet Your Highness, heir to the Northern Empire. I am Doppo Kunikida, Chief Minister and personal aide to His Majesty.”

“His Majesty?” You raise a brow. Last you heard, which was only three days ago at your marriage ceremony, Dazai was only a prince.

“Yes,” Kunikida says.

You wait. The Chief Minister stays silent, something you are sure he does quite often.

“I am in no mood for games,” you state plainly.

Kunikida straightens and nods his head almost imperceptibly at your thinly-veiled irritation. “Apologies. His Majesty, Dazai Osamu, has succeeded the throne as of two nights ago. The formal coronation is set for three days' time, the evening after our arrival.”

You blink. Dazai is… king? The little boy who used to pick out flowers and break down sobbing when a thorn pricked him is now the leader of an entire kingdom? The leader of the enemy kingdom, you remind yourself. As the king, his power has risen considerably, along with the stakes of your position and plans of revenge.

Guess you really can't call him Princeling anymore.

You swallow down the uneasiness in your throat and turn your attention to the silver box, hoping Kunikida doesn’t pick up on your anxiety.

“What is it?”

Kunikida hands it to you before taking a step back. “A gift.”

“Let me guess, a gift from His Majesty?”

If Kunikida notices the sarcasm in your tone (and it is quite difficult to not notice it), he doesn’t show it nor comment on it. “A wedding present, he said. A small offering of peace.”

You want to shove the new King of Yokohama’s peace offering down his throat until he takes the shape of a rectangle. Sadly, Dazai isn’t here for you to do so, and it would be quite the scandal; ‘Royal marriage ends after three days due to newly appointed King Dazai’s death by cardboard box.’’

You thank Kunikida for the gift and he quietly leaves with another bow. It might be your imagination, but the stony-faced Chief Minister seems relieved to be dismissed. You hadn’t let your annoyance show that clearly, had you?

The box isn’t very heavy. You set it on the large four-poster bed in the center of the room.

You haven’t seen Dazai since the wedding—if you can even call such a stifling event that. He disappeared right after and left you in the care of the soldiers and attendants of Yokohama Kingdom. They are the ones who brought you aboard the ship and showed you to your cabin. Though “cabin” isn’t quite the accurate description for your quarters. Aside from the huge bed laden with piles of silk and cotton and the seemingly never-ending glass wall to your left, the room has everything and anything you can possibly think of.

The marbled tiles under your feet are cold to the touch, and the deep blue reminds you of the midnight sea. Rows and rows of clothing, shoes, and accessories line the walk-in closet in the back, right next to the silver-gilded fireplace that lights up the room with warmth. Across from it sits a large loveseat tufted with silk and made of black velvet.

And yet… despite the glamour and luxury of your accommodations, the only thing that catches your attention right now is the gift. You pick it up and stare at the shining letters. You should throw it into the fireplace. Let it burn to ashes. Better yet, you should chuck it off the side of the ship and pray a shark eats it.

Your fingers twitch.

About all of three seconds pass before you rip open the outer wrapping of the package and uncover it. There is a folded note sitting atop a gently folded bundle of satin—a stunning article of clothing. The garment is noticeably traditional wear, and very formal. It shimmers with every little touch, every little breath. It is coloured a deep red, a shade not unlike blood, that is beyond flattering against your complexion.

The sight of it makes you want to hurl. First it was your father, now it's Dazai who thinks he has the right to dress you up… to show you off like some sort of war prize.

You won’t let him have the satisfaction. You toss the clothing aside and reach for the envelope that came with it. You open up the folded paper and immediately recognize Dazai’s handwriting. It hasn't changed much since he was young. Slightly more polished, and definitely less chicken-scratchy.

Y/N,

I have drafted letters like this one every single night for the past ten years, only to throw them all into the fireplace out of frustration. Or perhaps it was out of cowardice and shame. Even now, I am nervous—no—terrified at the notion of you reading this. Even now, you have such a startling effect on me.

You must hate me. I understand. Anyone would feel the same in your shoes. Although…regrettably, I cannot say the same for myself. But that is an indication of my own weak constitution more than anything else.

No matter. You hate me and that is that. But we are married now and I am set to change things. Our countries require our amicability, despite any personal feelings you may harbour. I will not force you to care for me—but I will try, for as long as I am able.

Please join me for dinner service tonight. In three hours time; southern side of the upper deck.

We have much to discuss.

P.S. After much deliberation and many sleepless hours, I decided that red would look best on you. Though I fear even a paper sack would leave me quite speechless as long as you were the one wearing it.

Your (beloved) husband,

Dazai Osamu

Your first thought is to punch a wall. Your second thought is to punch a certain king right in his smug face. After so many years, he is still pretending to be on your side. Still pretending that there is anything left between you that isn’t the shattered remnants of a tragic history best left in the past.

The fireplace flares as it swallows up the last of the note and garment, leaving nothing behind but charcoal dust and a soft warmth that rolls over the room. You sigh, both satisfied and exhausted; completely drained from the emotional turmoil of the past week.

The sun is long gone underneath the waves, dark midnight now settled in its place. The moon, in all its glory, lights up a path across the sea for the ship to follow and casts a silver sheen over your room. There is not a speck of land in sight. It is as if the world had been swallowed by the sea, with only the stars as companions. The sight makes you sleepy… and just a little bit homesick, which surprises you.

Kunikida shows up a short time later, ready to bring you to Dazai. You insist on taking your dinner in your quarters, much to Kunikida’s protests, and lock the door behind the maid that brings it. Just in case. Though the lock didn’t do much to block the incessant knocking on your door that sounds just as you are about to fall asleep.

Peeved and a little puzzled, you stumble out of bed in a daze, making your way to the door that is currently taking a beating from the other side.

Is it Kunikida? The maid from earlier? Who the hell could need you at this ungodly hour?

The answer comes in the form of Dazai Osamu. His hair is tangled and sticking in all directions, like he was tossing and turning. His clothes are nothing but a cream cotton robe covering a pair of loose matching bottoms, wrinkled and creased. He is still as beautiful as ever.

You slam the door in his face. Or at least, you try to, but Dazai anticipates it and sticks a foot out to block it. He winces, ever slightly, but gives no other indication of discomfort.

You are positively irked.

Before you are able to cuss him out and physically push him away, he speaks up.

“Apologies. I couldn’t sleep. It seems that even in the dreamland, you manage to plague my every thought,” he says with a slight frown.

Confusion and irritation swirl in your chest as you take in… everything. Is he out of his damn mind? More than usual?

You narrow your eyes at him, not buying this innocent act of his for even a moment. “What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with that information? You act as if this problem is one I can, or even want, to help you solve. Though I assure you that is not the case. Unless there is an emergency—a real one—leave me be, Your Majesty. You and I have nothing to speak of.”

His frown deepens. “Who…You don’t need to call me that.”

Your left eye twitches. “What?”

Dazai swallows, an air of nervous energy pours out from him, along with annoyance. That just makes you even more mad—if anyone should be annoyed, it should be you. It also puts you on edge—Dazai is rarely nervous.

“There is no reason for you to call me by a title. My name—it is yours to use freely,” he says.

“I disagree. Now, Your Majesty, why are you here?” You reject him flatly.

Dazai is clearly unsatisfied with your decision but decides to drop it. For now. He clears his throat. “You didn’t come to dinner.”

“I didn’t want to.”

If your reply hurts him, he doesn’t show it. He just nods like he expected that answer from you. “Right. Is it because of the clothes? Kunikida said that it would be a nice gesture, a way to show goodwill, and I thought it would look—”

“No, not because of the clothes,” you interject. Is he messing with you right now?

“So it was because of me.”

You cock your head. Your mind is on overdrive trying to work out his motive for being here—for bringing up all these strange, irrelevant things. “If you knew that, why come here at all?”

He smiles sadly. “Wishful thinking on my part. I thought…” He hesitates, clearly unsure if he should voice his feelings out loud. He tries anyway, “Well, let’s just say it is a treacherous thing to be stuck in a past that no longer exists. I was feeling… nostalgic. It will not happen again.”

A small lump forms in your throat at the finality in his tone. You swallow it down and make a noise of agreement. “A wise decision.”

You expect him to leave, but Dazai lingers at the doorway. This entire time he has been nothing more than a foot away from you, yet the distance between you continues to grow into an insurmountable gap. You wonder how you ever loved him; how you ever looked at him and felt something other than heartache and hostility. Those memories feel like a mere figment of your imagination nowadays. Perhaps they are.

After a moment of silence, he says: “It was never my intention to hurt you, you must believe me on that.”

Your knuckles turn white from how hard you clench the doorknob. It takes all your willpower and patience not to put a blade through his head, right then and there.

Not his intention to hurt you? Believe him? Such pretty words undeserving of being spoken by such an ugly liar.

“It's a shame I am not the naive little kid that you used to know. Because if I was…” You lean into him, until your mouth is right next to his ear.

Dazai stills.

“I might actually believe you,” you hiss.

You pull back and ignore his stricken expression.

Dazai shakes the shock away and nods. He takes a step back, understanding his cue to leave. He turns and takes a few steps before stopping and looking back at you.

“Good night, Y/N,” he softly whispers.

You shut the door without another word.

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