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#Really legitimately worried about the state of some of your minds to think that any of this actually matters to the degree that you think
skymaiden32 · 8 months
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Bad News
AO3 link here
Fandom: Thunderbirds, Stingray
Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn @idontknowreallywhy (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)
I thought I was done with this story. Brain said no and gave me three extra chapters.
Recommended you read some of Mariana Trench first, plus the first chapter since it's been a while.
Enjoy! ^^
Continuity: TOS
No matter how hard he tries, Gordon can't get his conversation with Shore off his mind.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Gordon sighed, watching as the hole in front of him was finally sealed. “That’s the last of it, Virg.” He updated his brother, who circled the damaged ship on the surface of the water. Gordon grimaced when he thought about how much the vessel was leaning. “I’m afraid it’s taken on too much water to remove by ourselves, but at least there’s no casualties. I can pull it back to the base myself.” 
The USS Rodgers, a brand new ship named for the late Colonel Gregory Rodgers, a senior officer of the United States Navy who’d died valiantly in the line of duty. And when Gordon said brand new, he meant brand new. This was supposed to be her maiden voyage. And she’d already had her first taste of danger, attacked senselessly by an unknown submersible. The ship had been carrying vital cargo, the nature of which International Rescue wasn’t under any circumstance permitted to know. 
Gordon huffed. A hole the size of Australia had been ripped into the side of the Rodgers when she’d been attacked. He’d been surprised that she hadn’t sunk. It had taken him a good hour to seal it up. He guessed he should count himself lucky the attackers were nowhere in sight. “Are you sure Thunderbird 4 can take that strain, Gordon?” Virgil’s voice interrupted his thoughts. 
“Not really.” He answered honestly. “But what other choice do we have?”
Gordon could hear Virgil’s frown across the airwaves. “We have more choices than you think, Gordon…” 
“I just feel like I have a duty to do this.” There was silence. It was Gordon’s turn to frown now. “Virgil, are you there?” Still nothing. “Virgil, you’re really worrying me here.”
After a few more tense seconds, his brother answered his calls. “Sorry for that, Gords. I just let the others know about your …idea…”
“And?” He listened closely.
He started listing the verdicts. “Brains says there’s no way, Dad said - in his words - 'Hell no', Scott’s probably glaring at you from One, John’s losing his mind up there…”
“Okay, I get it. You’re all freaking out.”
Virgil ignored him. “And Alan did a legitimate spit take all over the new upholstery. Grandma did not look happy…” He chuckled briefly, sobering up almost immediately. “If you try to pull that ship, Gordon, Thunderbird 4 will get ripped to shreds. I know you know that.” The aquanaut bit back a hiss. He should’ve known Virgil would figure him out. “And you know what else?”
Gordon inwardly groaned. “What?”
“You’ve been reckless.” Wow, Virgil was going right for the gut today. “More so than usual. The plans you’re coming up with on missions are getting more and more risky, and we’re getting worried.”
“What’s it to you?” Gordon grumbled. 
“What’s it to me?” Virgil shot back. His voice sounded further away, as if he’d stood up from his seat. “What’s it to me? You’re my brother, Gordon! We’re family! And the thing about family is that we all look out for each other no matter what.” His voice grew quieter still, although the soft rustling let Gordon know Virgil was sitting down again. “So tell us what’s gotten you so worked up.”
The aquanaut watched the watery expanse in front of him for a few moments, trying to work up the courage to talk about it. Chances were it wasn’t just Virgil who was listening, but that was good. What was haunting him cut deeper than he thought it would, and he didn’t think he’d be able to talk about it twice. He sighed. “You know when Commander Shore called me the other day?”
“Yeah, I remember.” Virgil answered. “Whatever he said, it really shook you. It wasn’t him working out you were International Rescue, was it?”
“What?!” Their father’s shocked and angry voice interrupted, almost echoing through the comms. Gordon and Virgil both froze. Guess this confirmed the whole family was listening.
Scott quickly came to their rescue. Virgil could practically feel his older brother’s face palm. “Father, he figured it out on his own. Nobody told him.”
“I know that, Scott. That’s not the point. In fact, it might be worse! If someone like Commander Shore can figure out who we are, anyone can.” 
“Dad, chill.” Gordon folded his arms, eyes still on the ocean ahead. He thought he saw something flash in the distance, but brushed it off. “I know how it sounds, but he said himself that he worked it out because he knows me and he knows how I operate submarines. He won’t say anything.” Jeff Tracy fell silent, but Gordon could tell that wasn’t the end of the conversation. “Besides, that’s not what he said that has me so tense.” Okay, that time he definitely saw something. “Huh, that’s weird. Wonder what that is…” He muttered, trying to get a better look. 
“What’s what, Gordon?” Scott asked, instincts on high alert.
“I saw something.” 
Jeff spoke up again. “Return to the Pod, Thunderbird 4. It might be the attackers. The Navy is on their way to retrieve the USS Rodgers.”
“FAB.” Gordon confirmed, already turning his ship in the direction of Pod 4.
“And don’t think we won’t be finishing our talk.”
Gordon rolled his eyes fondly. He’d been expecting that. “Yes sir!” The radio clicked off, leaving the aquanaut to continue speeding just below the surface of the water to his rendezvous point with Thunderbird 2.
“Gordon!” The radio crackled to life again, his eldest brother’s urgent voice getting his attention. “You’re being tailed!”
Thunderbird 4 jolted as she was hit with something. Gordon looked behind him. His eyes widened in shock. That was a Terrorfish. Right behind him. He swore. Even out of WASP, there wasn’t any escape from the war below the waves. But it didn’t make sense. International Rescue made a point to never get involved with this sort of thing. Why was Titan targeting Thunderbird 4?
He shook his head. He couldn’t think about that right now, or it was over before it even really began. He’d already been outrun, so his only option was to outmanoeuvre. In the blink of an eye, Thunderbird 4 dived, spun round, and fired. Gordon smirked when the Aquaphibian vessel was blown to pieces. He quickly pulled on his diving suit. Once he did so, he slipped out of the submarine to assess the damage. “Thunderbird 4 to International Rescue. Target successfully destroyed.” 
He could hear the relief in Scott’s voice. “FAB, Thunderbird 4. Head back to Pod and return to base.” As IR’s Field Commander gave his orders, Gordon plucked a small black mass off of his ship’s otherwise untarnished hull.
Gordon shook his head, rolling the object around in his fingers. “No can do, Scott. I was hit by something earlier.” He growled. “I know a tracker when I see one…” The implication hung in the air, and the idea of Titanica knowing the location of International Rescue’s base was terrifying. The aquanaut decided right then and there that it wouldn’t happen.
“Well,” Virgil sighed, “what do you want to do, then?” He asked. 
“If they want me, they can have me.” Outrage. “I don’t mean like that! I’m saying I set up a little welcome committee for them…”
“‘I’? Who is this ‘I’ you speak of?” Scott scoffed. “These people just tried to kill you! We’re coming with you.”
Oh no, Gordon thought. Absolutely not. “There’s no way either of you are coming with me. Look, you probably wouldn’t believe me, but that vessel belonged to an undersea race at war with WASP. I’m the only one in this family who knows what they’re really capable of. And there’s no way I’m letting you two get involved. Titan and his Aquaphibians are dangerous. I can’t lose anyone to him or his forces.” Silence followed. 
“Maybe so.” Virgil agreed. “But we can’t lose you either. Let us come too, even if it’s just to watch and step in if it gets too serious.” 
“We’ll leave it to you, Gords. We just wanna make sure you come home in one piece…” Scott added.
Gordon sighed. “Fine. Let’s pick a random island where I can wait for whoever’s coming, and you two can stay hidden…”
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mbti-notes · 2 years
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Anon wrote: INFJ girl here, this question is going to be a little long. Is there any way to be "aware" (if that's the word I'm supposed to use) that someone is heading for a grip of inferior function? Or someone notices that it is approaching and thus manages to avoid it?
I ask this because since the beginning of the year I have been actively taking care of my body and food, with the aim of improving my aesthetics and the general quality of my health (physiological, emotional, etc.). I don't exaggerate in my workouts and I don't practice severe restrictions on my diet, I allow myself to eat sweets as long as I don't overdo it during the week, I don't count calories, I always try to be aware of the physical signs of my hunger and I daily make notes of my meals in my diary to avoid emotional eating.
However, in the past during a phase of my teenage years, I've been in a pinch of Se and been obsessive and extreme about my body. I spent almost the entire day practicing physical exercises and didn't allow myself to eat anything other than what I considered healthy because I wanted to be flexible and beautiful (thin like a friend of mine who had lost weight and I felt envious of her body), which led me to many I often show off my flexibility so that others will be amazed at me and I will get the approval and attention I crave.
I got it into my head that I needed to be "productive" and "dedicated" to the maximum 100% of the time, I couldn't have rest days or relax a little on the diet, which also led me to other extreme behaviors typical of the inferior. endlessly cleaning and arranging the furniture in my room, to the point where I felt physical pain in my body. Back then, I remember thinking it was perfectly normal to do this and taking it as evidence that I was an extremely goal-oriented person, which was clearly me deluding myself and avoiding the factual reality of the situation.
I don't do that anymore nowadays, but just out of curiosity and who knows to guarantee it in the future, do you have any tips on how to be more attentive to the signs so that I can understand and change my mindset? I'm afraid that some event in life will shake me so much that I'll succumb to this state of mind and lose all the progress I've already made. I know INFJ's are prone to emotional disconnection and tend to be myopic to evidence that they are over-controlling when they abuse Ni. Thanks!
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When INFJs realize how good they are at self-deception, it's only natural to worry about getting caught up in it again, so I understand where your question is coming from.
Let's say that you happened upon a brochure about eating disorders at the supermarket and then realized that your behaviors matched up with the symptoms of a particular disorder. The brochure taught you the rule that "xyz behavior = unhealthy". This may be enough to prompt to you stop it, because knowledge is power, after all. But does this brochure tell you anything about how the disordered behavior arose in you, where it came from, or what caused it? No.
The purpose of function development is to increase your self-awareness to the point where you not only understand that you have a problem but also understand how that problem arose. Have you reached that level of self-awareness?
For a pattern to repeat itself, the conditions that made the pattern possible in the past have to be the same or similar enough to trigger the same reaction from you today. What were the conditions that gave rise to your disordered eating and exercising (Se grip)? Generally speaking, disordered behavior is often a failed attempt to address a legitimate psychological/emotional issue. What issue was the disordered behavior meant to address? Have you really gotten to the bottom of it?
You describe the difference between Now-You and Old-You, but I don't think the comparison goes deep enough, which is why you're still unsure of yourself. You said you were driven by craving for approval and attention, as well as by envy of people you admired. This sounds like an honest enough description of your motives. However, it leaves some important questions hanging in the air:
- WHY exactly did Old-You crave approval and attention so much, to the point of self-punishment? Are there still situations that trigger this craving in you today and do you have a healthy method of handling those triggering situations?
- Why did Old-You rely on social validation to appraise personal value/worth? Do you still do this or have you adopted a different method of self-appraisal? If there's a different method, do you know whether it's a healthy method?
- Why did Old-You think in terms of "hierarchy", i.e., compulsively categorizing everyone along brutal judgments of who is "superior"/"inferior" or "better"/"worse", and how to be "perfect" at the top? Do you still think in this way today? If so, why? What do you gain from it and what is the cost?
- Why did Old-You believe that the most important thing about people and/or the most important thing people have to offer up is their physical body, to the point of devoting all time and attention to perfecting it? Do you now recognize how superficial it is to treat people merely as bodies to be used for pleasure, as well as how this attitude might interfere with the formation of fulfilling and meaningful relationships? Is this related to sexist beliefs about what women are meant for?
- Why did Old-You believe that being a cheap imitation of another person would lead to you being seen/praised as special too? Do you still fail to recognize this logical contradiction and keep trying to be like others, with the only real difference being that you don't try as hard as Old-You did? What is your identity, really, when it is just a patchwork of qualities you appropriated from others?
These questions go deeper to reveal the conditions that gave rise to the disordered behavior. If you're unable to answer most of them, it's likely you still haven't gotten to the bottom of the problem yet. If the underlying causes of the problem haven't really been addressed, then, yes, it has the potential to rise up again. You say you have better motives now, which is good. However, remember that people can be motivated by a multitude of factors at the same time. Self-awareness involves being fully honest with yourself about all of the factors.
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Ask on Army-Multi Behaviours and K-pop Fan Archetypes Related to ARMYs and BTS (Repost)
Anonymous: Bpp, I don't understand people who call themselves fans but instinctively reach for the least charitable interpretation when something comes up about their supposed faves. They remind me of one American friend who thinks it's a personality trait to complain all the time. Even about the most harmless things. And my Republican step-grandma who only comments on anything to criticize it. I wonder what their state of mind is like on a normal day, because their first reaction every single time is negative. And it's not just 'unpopular opinions' but just weirdly glossing over easy, accessible, and plausible realities that would explain something before coming here to complain, again. Does it strike you as weird when you see things like this?
It's weird to choose to remain in a space you cannot stop criticizing, a space you refuse to see anything good about, and a space you make no effort to partake in positively. It's not even critical inquiry because half their takes are uninformed. Their 'hot takes' are entertaining to read but at the same time they seem so sad. I mean who does that? The person I saw doing that this afternoon stans another kpop group and doesn't put nearly the same scrutiny as she puts on BTS and armys on her real favorite group that she comments on only to talk about shipping and it's like, don't they see it's obvious what they are?
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Hi Anon,
You’re going to have to give me more to work with because I don’t traffic in indirects. But in any case, I guess welcome to the world and seeing how some people do things. As I’ve said in another post, if you’re a critical person, k-pop is the perfect genre for you cause you’ll never run out of things to be critical about, and you’ll always have a willing audience to affirm your gripes. No other genre elevates the opinions of random fans like k-pop lmao. I’m not American but even where I live I know people who like being contrarian. I don’t mind it because multiple perspectives are usually a good thing, so long as everyone gets their say and all aspects are considered fairly. This doesn’t happen often on the internet because nobody changes their minds here, but it’s typically a good sign to see people civilly conveying they think.
For example, I like that people are able to point out they find it excessive when fans freak out about COVID announcements because it’s true some behaviors border on irrational (even if you’re upset about it what good does crying all day do?), and I like it when other people can explain why they’re legitimately as worried as they feel. It’s called conversation. Or as close as one can get to that on Tumblr.
The rest of what you described just sounds like a regular k-poppie or multi as relates to BTS. It’s not about whether they listen to more than one artist. In fact, usually these sorts of people don’t really listen to music that much at all. It’s that they have a group they actually stan that’s not BTS, and usually use BTS and/or ARMYs as the crutch to comment on all they find wrong with k-pop, of which the group they actually stan of course has it’s own examples of. In my experience, those other groups/fandoms even have it worse than BTS or ARMYs, but again, in k-pop, nobody is actually concerned about the underlying issues. It’s about the subject. Normally I’d say BTS is the most prominent social phenomenon right now so of course everyone and their momma will be talking about them in every context, but this is a pattern I’ve observed with k-pop stans even before BTS became really famous. Like being hypercritical of BTS / ARMYs is the most consistent feature of a k-pop stan and it’s been like this for as long as I can remember loool.
It’s just what it is and I’m so used to it I hardly even notice it these days. I suggest you get used to it too because this is one thing that will definitely not change.
Originally posted: March 29th, 2022 9:32am
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bonnie-is-bumbling · 1 year
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Oh, man is my anxiety high lately. It's troubling not to know if it's because of something real, or if ye olde AFAB body is not being fab.
I have PCOS which, to stay short and sweet, means I have a bit more testosterone in me than your normal AFAB person will. This causes PMS, periods, and cycles to go absolutely out of whack. If you're curious about it, I highly reccomend Google. Or you can ask me, but know I am absolutely NOT a medical professional. I work at a bloody hotel. I can tell you what I do know, and I can tell you what I gather from that, and my own thoughts on it- But I repeat: I am NOT a medical professional.
But this post was about anxiety, so let's hop back to that.
Today, I got on Facebook. Not because I regularly use it. In the spirit of honesty- I use it 99.9% for memes. But today, I had a question, one that had been burning a hole in my mind.
For some context: I live in a town of about 9000 people (about half-ish of which are the inmates of the state prison, which is hosted in our town.) We are about 100 miles (roughly 161 km) from any larger civilization. That said, if you make a fool of yourself, the whole town knows. The windiest in the state, and sitting at an elevation of 7000 feet (2.13 km), I really wondered about our local airport.
I hopped onto the local Facebook group and for WEEKS I had let this question burn- I was so bloody scared that I was just making a fool of myself. Or that I was asking in the wrong group and would be mocked. People would see me and go "That's the dumb kid that asked a question she should have already known the answer to!" Or "What are you asking about aviation for? You work at a hotel!"
People really aren't usually so mean. But my brain immediately thought they would be, just because it was me asking, and not someone more qualified to ask.
When I finally jumped the gun tonight and asked, I told myself "You know what? SOME people are going to be assholes. But this is a non-offensive question. It's a reasonable question, and I'm going to state at the beginning AND end of my post that I'm legitimately just curious on how pilots take off and land at our mountainous, windy airport that's subject to the cruel winters and thick ice.
And I was pleasantly surprised.
People actually were up and willing to answer my question, and it sparked conversation that was neither mean, nor degrading. Nobody thought my question was silly, childish, ridiculous, or dumb. And in retrospect, it really isn't a dumb question. Maybe not a commonly asked one is all. And that's okay.
It just seems I over thought once more. And as many of us with anxiety can probably relate to- I always have to think things through. But I worry- Am I not thinking deep enough into it?... And here begins the spiral- I start thinking waaaay too hard and it just grows more and more negative- Sometimes driving me into utter inaction. It's not better to just sit and wonder than look stupid, but my brain will absolutely convince me it is.
Tomorrow, my 17 year old dog meets his new groomer. I'm absolutely worried about what the groomer will think. But I have to keep in mind that my dog is 17, and is expected to look, feel, and act like a REALLY old dog. The groomer is related to his recently retired groomer, and is aware of his age, condition, warts, blindness and all. She is also very aware that he's a dog with a constantly snuggly and licky attitude. Groomers know animals. She's been at it for decades, and likely has seen worse.
This is all affirming, but my brain is so obsessed with this thought I wish it would quit bringing up. This thought is that on this dog of healthy weight, happy temperament, and wiggly tail, she's gonna see his rough skin and have him taken. Which in reality, worst that would happen is I would be told "Hey, I can't groom him today, but you should ask the vet about [insert whatever here]."
My dog, a cocker spaniel at seventeen years old, is a good 24 pounds, always on the move, eats, sleeps, drinks, potties, plays. His hair, though thinning, is shiny and soft, free of matting. For seventeen, he is absolutely doing well, and I know my brain is being utterly irrational.
And for me, that's the hardest part of anxiety.
For me, anxiety is almost always very irrational. My house settles, as a 123 year old house does with changing temperatures. It's spring time here, and so the old bones are having a stretch. My roof is fine. I have personally checked. And yet my brain still reacts as if the house is about to just cave in... And with all the literal proof I have, I'm well aware my brain is talking nonsense.
It's absolutely irritating to know something, but have a nagging little voice in the head telling you you're wrong, always wrong, in danger all the time, not safe, error 404 braincell not found. It makes me mad at myself, upset that I can't make a decision, I can't make a move, feel stupid for asking for help. I don't know everything, and that's a fact. But I know SOME things, and my own brain treats me as if I don't. Not without absolute proof. Proof not even a 'Karen' can argue with. Proof that NOBODY can deny... And do you know how impossible that is?
I don't need seven scientists to tell me I'm safe to sit down in this chair or ask a question to quench my curiosity. Really, why can't my own mind and I be in sync? I blame anxiety. It could be something more, or I could just be an incompetent buffoon like my brain insists and treats me like. I don't entirely know, but I will say it's absolutely turbulent and irks the hell out of me.
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whisker-biscuit · 3 years
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The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles
Fandom: Psychonauts
Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking
Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.
Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.
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Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.
He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.
“H’lo?”
“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”
The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.
“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”
“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”
The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.
“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”
Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.
 What happened?
 Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.
“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.
“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”
“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”
“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”
“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”
“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”
The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”
The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.
Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.
“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”
There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.
“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.
“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.
“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”
A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.
“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”
“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”
The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.
Well, up until they were actually caught.
“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.
The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”
“Well, uh –”
“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”
“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”
He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.
“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”
The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.
“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”
Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.
“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”
“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.
“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”
“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”
The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.
“Uh, uh, thank you.”
“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”
“O-Okay.”
“Uh-huh.”
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No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.
Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.
Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.
It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.
“It was my idea.”
The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.
“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.
“Both.”
He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.
“I don’t believe you.”
Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”
“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”
“No! I’m telling all of it.”
“Razpu-”
“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”
“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.
“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”
There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.
“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”
“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”
“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”
“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”
“…Lili –”
 “Raz.”
“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”
Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”
Silence.
“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”
The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.
He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.
Metaphorically and literally.
Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”
The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.
“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”
Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”
They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.
“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.
Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”
“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”
She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.
“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”
She didn’t respond. He continued.
“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”
“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”
The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”
“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”
Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.
Finally, an epiphany.
“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”
The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”
“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”
He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.
“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”
Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.
“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”
His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.
“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”
The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.
“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.
“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”
Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”
“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”
“Uh-huh.”
Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.
“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”
“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.
“The best dad.”
“Definitely the best dad.”
More silence.
“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”
Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.
“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”
“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”
Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”
“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”
Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.
“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”
“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”
“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”
The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.
“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.
“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.
“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”
“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”
“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”
“Right.”
They walked out together, hand-in-hand.
------------------------------
A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.
I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.
Psychonauts, man.
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slasherboyos · 3 years
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Different World | Chapter Nine
Word count: 3300+ (adsgf there is a reason for why I split chapter eight)
Date posted: August 6, 2021
Warning: Cursing
“Different World” masterlist: Link
Fanfic Playlist: Link
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Note: A nice chapter, but an important one! Also, there is some dialogue that seems incorrect, but it’s like that for a reason; just giving a heads up just in case! As always, feedback is appreciated!
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Marko’s boots stomped down the dirt steps that led into the hotel. The plastic utensils in the Coca-Cola box of Chinese takeout were heard clashing with each other when he jumped down that final ledge.
“Feeding time,” He loudly called, announcing his return with dinner. “Come and get it!” You grumbled as you sat up; you were this close to falling asleep during this small pocket of calm, but, of course, proper sleep continued to elude you. That Walkman you have been thinking about buying was starting to become all the more enticing. In your tired state, you stayed put at the far left side of the couch as Marko distributed the food with a pair of chopsticks in his mouth. Dwayne sat on the other side with Laddie sitting between you two. You put your elbow on the armrest, resting your chin on your palm.
“Tired of me already,” Paul jested, gesturing to the empty spot beside him where you usually sat during meal times. You rolled your eyes and lazily stuck your middle finger at him with the same hand that held your head. David placed himself in his shirt-covered wheelchair. 
“I’m not getting up,” you flippantly grumbled, leaning in further into the armrest. Your strained eyes watered as you yawned. 
“Your grace, the finest of meals,” Marko chirped. You gave Marko a sleepy amused look at his exaggerated bow and horrible attempt at a posh British accent as he handed you a carton with a pair of chopsticks. You propped yourself up and leaned comfortably against the backrest, bringing your legs up to lay on their sides. You opened the flaps, stomach tightened from hunger, mildly excited to see what he brought you. He, indeed, did know what you liked. You offered some to Star, which she declined as per usual, before you dug in, starved without the help of your usual early-evening snack.
David offered some food, a carton of rice, to Michael, which was refused at first. However, through the power of peer pressure, Michael accepted the carton and a clear, plastic fork. While you may not have approved David’s methods, you were glad to see Michael eating something. You chewed your food and swallowed it. You closed your eyes in complete bliss, finally being able to get your food intake for the night. There was a chance that Laddie may not finish all of his food, so you silently plotted to take it when he was full. It would be a pity for that delicious takeout to go to waste, after all. Plus, it would help decrease the amount of food waste amongst you. 
“How are those maggots,” David asked quickly and nonchalantly, which had a very casual tone compared to the substance of his question. The boys laughed and you groaned. You leaned back against the backrest, watching, knowing the direction that this was taking. Of course, they were not going to let Michael enjoy his first meal with them without a little bit of hazing. 
“What,” Michael inquired, not comprehending the bizarre statement he heard. 
“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots. How do they taste?” Paul had no shame in continuing to chuckle. You hid your growing smile behind your hand. Given the countless times that David had pulled this trick on you, it was strange seeing him do it to someone else. 
Michael gave David an incredulous smile before looking down to come face to face with a carton of what you could assume were squirming maggots in his eyes. Almost immediately, Michael dropped the carton and spit out the rice in his mouth and the cave erupted in howling laughter. Even David was almost doubling over with how hard he was laughing. You, much to your shame, also quietly chuckled, trying to stay quiet as if you were not finding this a little entertaining. He was so unsuspecting unlike you. While you knew from the start that they were vampires—though, you did not realize their mind-based abilities at first—Michael was oblivious, so he did not catch on as quickly as you did. Well, he did not catch on at all.
Star did not find this heckling as enjoyable. 
“Leave him alone,” she begged, unhappy with the boys’ treatment of Michael, not that anyone listened to what she had to say. Michael realized that the rice was not a pile of maggots, but just plain old white rice. He looked up before looking back down at the mess, really trying to process that it was just rice. 
“Sorry ‘bout that,” David gave an empty apology and you rolled your eyes. “No hard feelings, huh?” Michael swallowed his pride and answered,
“No.” Wow, this guy really wants to get on David’s good side. Michael was, at least, tame enough to take it in stride, unlike you. While his initial reaction was worse than yours, at least he did not immediately yell out profanities. David stuck his chopsticks in his noodles. 
“Why don’t you try some noodles?” The boys started laughing again. You waited patiently to see what trick David was pulling out of his sleeve. 
“They’re worms,” Michael deadpanned and you exhaled. They had an obsession with squirmy bugs, it seemed. 
“What do you mean they’re worms?” David dug through the carton, playing dumb to Michael’s concerns. 
“You’re still doing this,” you uttered. You sighed, “the joke’s over, guys!” Michael tried to warn him to not eat the so-called worms, but David used the chopsticks to shove more noodles in his mouth. He chewed on them obnoxiously before grinning, content with how he got under Michael’s skin.
“They’re only noodles, Michael.” Michael snatched the carton and looked through it, only to find just noodles. He must have thought he was losing his mind! To your surprise, he did not ask any questions and took it all at face value. You were a little worried about how easily he was absorbing this. 
“You’re an ass, David.” He ignored your insult, which was probably in your best interest. 
“Nice worms,” Dwayne mocked amongst the snickering. You reached over Laddie and swatted Dwayne’s chest with the back of your right hand, which he hissed at, though he was not in any pain from your back-handed attack. “(Y/N) is being mean again,” he tattled on you to nobody in particular. You raised your hands, physically expressing your annoyance.
“Are you tattling on—what are you, a child?”
“That’s enough,” Star asserted, which Paul responded to with, 
“Aw, chill out, girl,” While Star had not liked this from the start, you were drawing the line here. While the prank was harmless, they did not need to be ridiculing Michael this much. 
And you were not a fan of Paul brushing Star off like that.
You picked a small pebble and aimed for him, landing on his neck. “Hey,” he whined, but you could not care less about it.
“You’re all a bunch of asswipes!” You complained, swallowing what you had been chewing. “I am so sorry, Michael.” Michael appreciated your apology, though he was still embarrassed and very confused by what just happened. “They did the same thing to me, you know. Made me think I was eating caterpillars instead of french fries. And then Paul ate the fries that I dropped.” You threw your head back to get more food in your mouth as Paul chuckled, still clearly proud of himself for getting that reaction out of you when he had picked up the soiled french fry and popped it in his mouth. “They still pull shit like this with me all the time.” 
Your gaze had drifted to Paul, who had his hand in the carton. Your warm smile—which appeared from reminiscing—dropped and your expression morphed into a disgusted one. You knew for sure that he did not wash his hands before deciding to use one as an eating utensil. With a disappointed sigh, you pinched between your eyebrows, exasperated, and expressed,
“Are you kidding—are you eating Chinese takeout with your bare hands?” He put the carton to his mouth as if he was drinking out of a cup.
“Why am I in trouble?” He spoke with a mouth full of fried rice and gestured to Dwayne, who was sitting beside you. Dwayne, now the one being put on the spot, froze, caught red-handed with his hand in his carton, and picked up some noodles. You scrunched up your nose and furrowed your brow. How you did not notice that happening right beside you was a mystery.
“Really? I expected this from Paul—”
“This is bullying!”
“—but not you!” As if to spite you, Dwayne picked up some of his noodles and shoved it into his mouth with a cheeky smile. “Marko is using a pair of chopsticks! Marko! And he’s...” You vaguely gestured to him. “Marko!”
“What’s that supposed to mean,” Marko yapped. You pointed at him accusingly. 
“You know exactly what that means.” You were alluding to how much of an instinctual person he was. You were surprised with how he did not immediately stick his hand in his food without taking off his gloves when he opened his carton. “Michael, you know what he did the first night I was here?” Michael shook his head, almost smiling at the sight of you putting them in their place. “He threw a pigeon at me. A pigeon!” Everyone, including you, laughed at the fond memory, Marko being the loudest as he caught himself by putting a hand on his knee. When David calmed down, recalling the shocked expression you had when the bird was tossed at the back of your skull, he gave you a seemingly genuine smile. Seemingly.
You intentionally tried to make him feel more comfortable with your story of the pigeon attack. There was a part of you that did not like how he was to become a vampire against his will. While you could not do anything to change that, you could at least be a friend and hold out an olive branch.
Besides Star, Michael noticed how you were showing legitimate consideration towards him while the boys were messing with him with no restraints. You, while taking part in all of this heckling, had the decency to apologize and had your limits. He was still intimidated by your presence but realized that you may not be as menacing as you may appear. In contrast to your piercing stare, your smile lit up the room and you were a fun person to be around.
Of course, he was unaware as to just how doomed to stay with this group of misfits he was. He may have to deal with this taunting for the rest of eternity.
You picked up another pebble. It hit Marko's left temple and somehow landed in his food.
“Get fucked, pigeon-thrower,” you slandered.
“Ow! Dwayne’s right, you are bein’ a bitch!” 
“Oh, you’ll get over it.” You picked up a third small rock and leaned forward to get a clearer shot. You harshly threw it onto Dwayne's bare chest. 
“What was that for,” he complained, mouth full of noodles. 
“Talkin’ shit about me.” 
“I never called you a bitch!” Okay, maybe it was fun just being a general nuisance towards them, but that was not going to be something you said out loud. To keep things even between them all, you picked up one more for David. As you aimed, he put up a finger to make you pause. 
“Do you really want to do that,” he challenged. Unluckily for him, you found entertainment in doing things out of spite. However, Unluckily for you, he caught the rock with a gloved hand and threw it back at you with force. You laughed with a mild shriek as you tried to shield yourself, but it hit your left shoulder. 
“Ow,” you exclaimed and rubbed the ambushed area of your arm.
“You’ll get over it,” he mocked, repeating what you had said to Marko. 
“You see what I have to deal with, Michael,” you joked. Paul threw the remaining fried rice in his carton at you. “Don’t throw food, dipshit! You'll get it in the cushions!”
“It’s maggots, (Y/N),” Paul teased. You took hold of a small display pillow, one that you have been sleeping with, and threw it at Paul. Too bad you missed. Paul mockingly said, 
“Try again!”
David was lost in thought before he called out to Marko and whispered something in his ear as the excitement died down, the tone of the night changing drastically as silence engulfed the cave. You could decipher what was said. Marko nodded enthusiastically, giving a quick once-over towards everyone, before leaving and coming back with an ornate wine bottle. 
Star became visibly concerned, quickly making her way to Michael’s side. Her reaction was enough for you to mirror that worry. There was no way they were going to turn him tonight, right? Getting Michael drunk to make the process easier hardly seems like the best strategy, if that was what they were doing. Plus, he did not seem like a wine guy.
David, with as much flair as he could muster, popped the cork and drank from the bottle. He opened his eyes, his gaze on Michael intense. He’s dramatic; I’ll give him that. You thought.
“Drink some of this, Michael,” David pressured, offering him the bottle. He quieted and harshly whispered, “be one of us.” You could almost see the ellipses that appeared in Michael's head. You were glad you were not the only one who found the dramatic nature David was talking with anticlimactic. Michael stood from the fountain and gingerly took the bottle from David by the neck. As Dwayne and Paul began to chant Michael’s name, Laddie stood and ran away, granting you another reason to be concerned. Marko joined in. Star moved closer to Michael; you swear that she was just about ready to jump out of her skin with how skittish she was being. 
“Michael,” David called, egging him on. 
“Yeah, sure,” Michael responded before putting it up to his mouth and taking quite a few large gulps of it. The boys cheered with David yelling, “Bravo!” Star took a step back, shielding Laddie with her left hand. You could not understand why she was so nervous, so afraid. It was just a little bit of wine! Are they seriously trying to get him drunk? Maybe you have overestimated the boys’ planning skills.
Or, this was just a part of their initiation. They could be building up to the actual turning, but all you can do for now is speculate. Hopefully, you will remember to ask one of them about it later.
“Your turn, (Y/N).” You swiftly turned your head to face David, not expecting the spotlight to turn to you.
“Me?” Why did they want you to drink from the bottle? It was not as if you were the one who was going to start walking amongst the undead as one of them; Michael was the one who was joining the clique. 
“It's like an initiation,” Paul explained. “Drink it and you're officially one of us, sugar!”
“And don’t think that you’re done, Michael,” David warned as he handed you the bottle. He made brief eye contact with you before returning to look at Michael. “(Y/N) has already gone through it all; you’ve still got to show us that you’ve got what it takes.” Michael took a glimpse at you. 
“What it takes,” Michael pressed.
“To be one of us, Michael.”
“And I have what it takes,” you asked. No one denied the statement. You were not sure what specific qualities they saw in you and what they may have considered a test of your worth, but you apparently fit the bill.
“Why else would we be having such a special dinner, (Y/N),” David stated. You chortled. It was not as if they served you a five-star meal from some fancy restaurant that only takes patrons that are dressed to the nines. Well, it was in such a fancy hotel, though collapsed, so maybe you could let it slide.
“All this is for me,” you entertained his statement. 
“It is if you drink from the bottle,” Marko answered, sitting on the armrest and leaning towards you, giving you a prying look with raised eyebrows. You let out a hefty chuckle before looking down at the bottle in your hand, swishing the liquid in a clockwise motion, feeling the weight of it as it moved. With it in your hand, you got a closer inspection.
Though tacky, it was a beautiful vessel. It was a clear, glass bottle that was covered in gold plating. Over that, red and white gems decorated it. The red drink inside of the bottle was a vibrant red, bright and alluring. It made sense that they would choose such a drink. 
Beginning with Dwayne, the boys chanted, growing louder with each one,
“One of us! One of us! One of us!” An involuntary smile grew on your face. In a way, you guess that you were one of them and a part of their social circle. You had grown to care for them and it warmed your heart that they thought the same of you. 
It was just some wine, right? In a fancy sunken hotel like this, it would make sense to find such a fancy bottle among the rubble. And it made sense that this group of vampires would have some weird initiation rituals.
You brought the bottle to your lips and took a sip; you did not drink as much as Michael did, but just enough to get a small taste. That sample was enough given how the boys cheered as you felt it go down your throat. You did a double-take, not expecting it to taste like that.
It did not taste like wine, but it was nothing like you had ever drank before. It was strong, but it was from something other than the alcohol content. It was sweet with a bit of a spicy kick to it as it went down. You made a face, still trying to decide if you liked it or not.
“What is that?” You brought the opening to your eye before taking another sip. “Wow, that does not taste like wine.” One more time, you brought the bottle to your lips before concluding that you enjoyed the flavor; they chose a good initiation drink. 
You gave the bottle back to David as you licked your lips clean. You sat comfortably with a bashful smile that you tried to hide with the side of your hand. It was as if they were happier with you drinking the wine than they were with Michael drinking it with how they cheered. They clapped to a rhythm and excitedly chanted again,
“One of us! One of us!” You brought your tongue to the roof of your mouth.
"You guys are way too excited for a little bit of wine," you dismissed, a laugh escaping you as you tried to seem unmoved. Paul hopped onto the box he was sitting on and jumped off to the other side. He raised the volume on his stereo, which was playing some rock song you vaguely recognized. 
"Now, we really celebrate," David instructed as Paul jogged back and pulled you up. 
"You're one of us now, (Y/N)," Marko cheered as he patted you hard on the back, stepping in front of you and facing you with a wide smile, which you mirrored when you recovered. He took notice of how your eyes completely softened while you smiled at him. Your expression was so real, so sincere. 
Those high walls of yours had crumbled down to mere dust, allowing them to step in with ease, which was what you were afraid of, but you could not bring yourself to care in the moment. 
You felt a hand gently stroke your upper back and you turned to see Dwayne, who was grinning boyishly down at you. As they left you, you could not deny how good you felt when they chanted your name,
"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!"
➳ ➳ ➳
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dameronology · 3 years
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rescuer {din djarin}
summary: din djarin rescued you - and then you rescued him {for @drinksomecoco !! i hope u enjoy}
warnings: brief mentions of torture, swearing
this is like....4k words?? it got a little out of hand, i won't lie to u.
- jazz xx
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It wasn’t often that The Mandalorian found himself becoming attached to bounties.
Twice. He’d done it twice.
The first time, he swore to himself that it would be the last. Adopting his little green surrogate...frog? Son?
Okay, adopting his little green surrogate Grogu had brought enough tension into his life. It had gotten him back onto the radars of both the Empire and the New Republic; thrown him into some weird form of fatherhood that he wasn’t quite ready for and tipped his entire way of life upside down. Despite all that, he never stopped to question if all the exhaustion was more trouble than it was worth, because he loved his kid. Completely and entirely in ways that no parenting book or fairytale could ever quite describe. It was an intense form of love and attachment - and Din knew it was going to hurt when he would eventually have to return the Child to his own people. That was a little far off though, because he couldn’t investigate any further til he had the means to do so. Money and resources weren’t limitless and even The Mandalorian had to find means to an end.
Going back to the Bounty Hunter’s Guild wasn’t ideal, especially not with the kid in tow - but did he have any other way? Din didn’t know any other way of life, let alone another way of earning money. Besides, he figured it would only be a quick few months. A couple jobs here and there until he had enough in savings to travel far enough to find where Grogu really came from.
But it was two bounties; two bounties that he would find himself becoming attached to. Grogu was the only one.
It was through that decision to return to the Guild that Din Djarin would find himself stumbling across the next one. He was offered five pucks - the first four were easy. Standard jobs, really. Runaway criminals and Imps who had crossed people so many times that trying to work out their loyalty was head-ache inducing. He found them all in a matter of days, really. They were good at hiding but it didn’t count for much when The Mandalorian was good at finding.
Then there was you; the fifth puck. The one he thought was going to be the easiest.
Finding you wasn’t a problem. Tucked away in a corner of rural Tatooine - maybe twenty, twenty five minutes shy of Mos Eisley - you were hiding in plain sight. It would have been enough to protect you from anyone else but Din was an unrelenting expert in finding those who didn’t want to be found.
He never quite knew what to expect when he closed in on a bounty. Sometimes they ran and sometimes they hid. A few of them had tried to appeal to his humanity; to try and connect with the man they hoped was behind the mask. Because aside from the husky voice that occasionally escaped the helmet, there was no proof that The Mandalorian was anything other than a very convincing droid. That was, until, someone would lay a hand on his son or ship and suddenly, a wave of pure human rage would burst out from beneath the beskar.
You couldn’t have hidden from him or run away, even if you wanted to. Not because you were scared, but because you were chained up; wrists and ankles in shackles, keeping you tied to the walls of a filthy docking bay. From the sand piled around your feet, it was clear that you had tried to kick up a fuss at some point.
But based on the way that you looked at him - with tired eyes and a hopeless expression - that made Din realise: you’d lost the will to fight. He knew that you weren’t going to wriggle away or try to engage in combat.
“Are you…” The Mandalorian trailed off. “Are you alone?”
“Probably,” your eyes flicked up from the ground, unknowingly capturing his gaze. “I think I’ve been left for dead.”
He sighed. “I’m looking for a...Kan Durant. Is he here?”
“No,” you shot back. “He left me here for dead about a week ago. Probably knew that a bounty hunter was going to come after him at some point.”
“Do you know where he went?”
“I’m chained up,” you said. “Isn’t the answer to your question a little axiomatic?”
“Maybe,” he replied. “But if you know anything, it might be helpful.”
“Try Corellia,” you muttered.
Corellia. That was...doable. Not too far and not too hard to search. That would be his fifth and final puck and then Din could set off for the sunset in search of his kid’s home planet. That’s what this whole thing had been about.
But...you. You’d been left for dead - and based on the bruises around your eyes and on your limbs, that was the least of what you’d gone through recently. What kind of man would it make him if he left you? A fucking awful one, obviously, but what was he supposed to do?
Din slowly leant down, pulling a thin tool from his belt. He fiddled around with your cuffs for a moment, until there was a low hiss. They fell from your hands and onto the sandy ground - he expected you to get up, or to run, or do anything but sit there and stare at him with gaunt eyes. Maybe it was foolish of him to think that merely freeing you of your restraints was doing his part for the greater good.
“Is there anywhere around here where you can go?” he asked. “An inn? A cantina?”
You snorted. “No. I’ll die.”
“You can get food and medicine out there.”
“Mos Eisley is swarming with Durant’s men,” you explained. “The minute I step foot in any town or port here, they’ll know.”
Maybe being with Grogu had softened him, or maybe The Mandalorian genuinely couldn’t find it himself to leave you. But, he found himself doing the unthinkable: sticking his hand out to you, lifting you up, and leading you out of the docking bay and back towards his ship. He didn’t know what he was going to do or how he was going to do it but really, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. His main focus had been on keeping you alive until you were within the safety of the Crest.
You stumbled slightly when he put you down, tripping and falling towards the control panel to shut the loading bay doors. At least you were intuitive.
With that, you fell back to the ground. It was becoming clearer and clearer that you were in a bit of a state - how long did you say it had been? A week since Durant had left - so that was at least seven days without proper food or water. It was a miracle you were alive. Din had got there just in time.
“Why are you helping me?” you asked. “What do you want?”
He glanced over in your direction. “I don’t want anything.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” you shot back.
“I wasn’t going to leave you there,” Din replied. He paused for a moment, before turning to face you. “I’ve heard Durant’s name before. I know what he does to people.”
“Aren’t you more worried about finding him and getting the bounty?” you pushed.
Truth be told, Din wasn’t that bothered. He had enough money from the last four pucks to get him where he needed to be. The fifth had just been a little extra, so he had an easier time letting go of it. He certainly wasn’t the only hunter going after Durant’s ass and worst case scenario, Karga would give him a little bit of shit for not completing the job. All of that was a lot more manageable than living with the guilt of leaving you in the dark to die.
“Someone else will get him. I’m sure.” Din muttered. He reached for a ration pack stored away on a shelf and tossed it in your direction. “You should eat this. I’ll get us in the air and find some bacta-”
“- you really don’t need to,” you cut him off.
“Eat,” he pushed again. “You’re weak. You’ll need it.”
--
Over the next few days, you would come to find that forceful-but-caring demands were The Mandalorian’s main language.
He didn’t talk much - or at all really. He didn’t need to, not when you kept to yourself on the lower deck of the ship whilst he dealt with everything else. He didn’t seem to mind that you weren’t helping; after all, you’d been in a weak state when Din had found you and standing up had been hard, let alone maneuvering around the flying hunk of metal. You were beginning to feel a little more spry, thanks to the food, water and bactaspray. The combination was hardly an elixir of life but you’d found yourself feeling a little more human.
Sleep was the hard one. A combination of confusion - at the situation, at Din, at where you were going - and nightmares made it hard. Every time you closed your eyes, you found yourself hurtling back in time to when Durant had first captured you. You’d been a test dummy for all his weapons and experiments and really, you were just lucky to be alive and in one piece. It didn’t count for much though, not when you couldn’t get a single fucking second of shut eye.
You would have been a fool to think that Din hadn’t picked up on it.
He was observational by nature and even more so by craft. A man who was constantly looking over his shoulder and straight ahead; a warrior who had been raised to keep a weapon by his side at all times. Of course he was going to notice your insomnia, and the way your eyes seemed even more sunken and dull than when he’d first found you.
You were sitting in the hull when he approached you. Not a lot had been said, other than the occasional eat this or put this on your bruises. Again - all a little forceful, but with a sense of genuinity behind the words. You still had a hard time believing that he was legitimately just a man who wanted to help you.
“I find that noise helps.”
You glanced up at him. “I’m sorry?”
He cleared his throat. “When I can’t sleep, and when I have nightmares, I find that being in a room with white noise helps distract my brain.”
“Oh, right,” you gave him a small nod. “I s’pose it is pretty quiet down here.”
“It’s noisier up there in the cockpit,” he replied. “We’re going to be in hyperspace for a while so if you want to get some sleep, I’ll stay down here.”
“Thank you.”
For the first time in days, you finally showed a glimmer of emotion. It was just a smile - and one he figured was a forced one - but still, it was a good sign.
Din’s eyes followed you as you stood up, heading for the ladder up to the cockpit. You stopped in front of it for a moment, palms wrapping around one of the rungs. At first, he thought you were just pondering, or taking a moment to rethink your actions, but then a light bulb went off in his head. You were too weak.
Moving slowly, The Mandalorian positioned himself behind you.
“Is it okay if I put them here?” he quietly asked, large, gloved hands hovering over the side of your hips.
“Uh, yeah,” you replied. “Thank you.”
With Din’s support, you were able to grab onto the hatch above and pull yourself up, boots hitting the ground of the cockpit. He followed you up, guiding you over to one of the pilot’s chairs. The lights of hyperspace were flashing by, illuminating the entire room in a white-gold glow. It felt odd to be up here after so many days of confining yourself just to the hull - forbidden, even with the invite from The Mandalorian himself.
“How did you know that I get nightmares?” you asked, turning around to face him.
The helmet tilted slightly. “I get them too.”
“I’m sorry,” you softly sighed. “Thank you again for your help.”
“It’s okay,” Din brushed it off as though it were nothing. “We have about four hours til our next stop. I’ll wake you up before we get there.”
“Is that where I get off?” you asked.
“No,” he firmly replied. “It’s not safe there either.”
You had more questions that you wanted to ask - now more than ever that he was finally talking - but you were far too exhausted to even try. Once you’d fallen back against the chair and been handed a blanket out of nowhere, the noise of the surrounding machines practically dragged you out of consciousness.
---
One question you had wanted to ask Din had been about the duration of your stay.
How long were you supposed to stay on board? How long did he want you there?
You were almost scared to ask, for fear of the answer. After all, you barely knew him. He could get up at any moment and demand that you left, and you wouldn’t have been able to argue. All of this - this looking after you, this roof over your head, this care - felt too good to be true. Like it was all part of some elaborate ruse.
But it was funny, because you were even more scared that it wasn’t. If Din - or The Mandalorian, as you knew him - was truly just a nice person with pure intentions, then that was about to be dangerous territory for you. The minute that you started trusting him, and the minute you started to see him as someone who could protect you, would spell trouble. You had never intended to become attached, but it was only natural. You hadn’t had a single person look out for you - not once in your life.
Every time he made you food, or helped you up into the cockpit, you felt yourself slipping that way. A six-foot pile of beskar should not have been a sign of comfort, but the helmet came to symbolise...something. You didn’t know what. Attachment, maybe? A little inkling of affection for whoever the hell was below those inches of steel?
A few weeks passed and the tension slowly began to falter. It was probably the proximity more than anything, but the time proved to you more than anything that Din was genuine. He was helping you because he wanted to - there was no personal gain for him, nor monetary. He actually, honestly just wanted to do good.
And doing good, he was. Whilst he still kept his distance, he looked after you. He made sure that you ate enough to recover from your periods of deprivation and once a day, he would clear out of the cockpit for you to get some rest. He still helped you up the ladder every time -and even when you told him you were strong enough, he still stood back and watched just to make sure.
Because, truthfully, The Mandalorian was beginning to see something in you. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what, but he was intrigued by the way you were slowly beginning to show him parts of yourself. Where your eyes had once been gaunt and lifeless, they now had a spark in them. You were quiet when you’d met, but now you spoke to the kid and you hummed to yourself. It was like the life that was sucked out of you was slowly being breathed back in, day by day and bit by bit.
“Do you wanna get some sleep?” Din asked you one day.
“Yeah, sure,” you glanced up at the Child, giving him a small smile. “When did you last sleep, Mando?”
Another helmet tilt. “I get enough sleep.”
“I don’t believe you,” you thinned your eyes at him.
The Mandalorian sighed slightly - normally, that would have been a sign to literally anyone else to drop it. But with you? Nope. You saw that as a sign of progress; that the little, tiny display of emotion meant you were beginning to chip past those godforsaken layers of beskar.
“I get nightmares about Durant,” you continued. “Every time I panic and wake up in a cold sweat, I remind myself that I’m safe, because I know that you and the kid are here.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” you admitted. “You can tell me anything and I promise I won’t judge you. You’ve never judged me.”
He pondered for a moment, before releasing another deep breath. “I can’t sleep alone.”
“Really?”
“Last time I did, I woke up and my parents were gone,” Din explained. “So I wait til the kid wants to go to sleep and I just go with him, so that I’m not alone.”
Your heart dropped a little at that - partially because he’d opened up to you, but also because the Child rarely ever slept. If Din only ever waited around for their exhaustion to coincide, it must have been months since he’d last got a decent night’s rest. It was the least he deserved.
Nodding, you stuck your hand out towards him. “C’mon.”
“What?”
“I’m gonna sleep and so are you,” you replied. “You need it and if I’ve done everything that you’ve instructed so far, I think I should have the same in return.”
--
Din didn’t want to admit it to himself at first.
It being multiple things: the fact you were helping him, the fact your presence on his ship had made the place seem better, the fact that his heart skipped a beat every time you brushed past him.
Bar his surrogate son, Din had never been close with anyone before. He’d never even slept in the same goddamn room as anyone else, even. That was a fucking mammoth step for him, but when you took his hand? It felt like a baby step. Just a tiny hop from A to B. Not a massive milestone, or a moment of personal progress. You had made it seem so simple.
Maybe that was it.
You never over-complicated anything. Your intentions were always clear and simple - there was no moral ambiguity, no moments where Din had to question whether or not he could well and truly trust you. He just knew. It was funny, because it was the exact same situation you’d had with him - questioning why he was helping you, trying to work out what he wanted. This whole time, Din had been helping you solely because he thought it was the right thing and it’s what you were doing for him too.
Din liked when you sat close to him. There was a little wave of warmth he felt every time you shuffled a bit nearer to him when you both crashed on the floor of the cockpit, and a tiny swarm of butterflies that flew through him when you stuck by his side in busy towns and cities. It was clear that you found comfort in him after so many years of going without it.
In turn, he found comfort in you. Not just in the way you unintentionally looked after him, but just...everything. Your presence had been a little odd on the Crest at first, but now it felt weird to be without it. Hearing you single quietly in the shower and have one-sided conversations with the Child filled a hole in his life that he hadn’t even realised had been there.
It was as though he’d had a missing puzzle piece his entire life; a gap between all the interconnected parts that hadn’t been integral, but certainly inconvenient. And now that it was filled, he could take a step back and finally look at the bigger picture that had been forming. All the pieces were finally there - you and the kid and whatever odd family unit that made you - and the galaxy didn’t seem so nonsensical anymore.
A little over two months after he first found you, word got around that Durant had finally been captured. Not by Din, but that hadn’t mattered - because killing the man who had hurt you, even after everything, would never amount to everything he’d done for you.
The relief didn’t last long for you, though - because as soon as you realised you no longer had a reason to hide, it dawned on you that you no longer had a reason to stay with Din. Or, at least not one you were willing to share with Din. Begging to let you stay just for the sake of being near him didn’t seem like a very convincing argument - at least not from where you were standing.
But from where Din was standing, it was a little different. You were part of his life now, even if you had no idea. That wasn’t your fault, though. He wasn’t exactly the best at vocalising it. Admitting it to himself had been hard enough, let alone to you.
“So,” you spoke softly, clearing your throat. “I suppose you’ll drop me off at the next planet?”
You were both sitting in the cock-pit; the Child was asleep downstairs and the Crest was soaring through the last stretch of hyperspace before Nevarro.
Din didn’t want to drop you off. He didn’t want his ship to be silent all over again or to sleep without you by his side. The thought alone of not having you around anymore was enough to make him a little watery-eyed beneath his beskar barrier. You’d grown on him, and in return, he’d kind of, accidentally fallen in love with you.
“You don’t have to go,” he said.
You peered over at him. “If you can think of a reason for me to stay aboard, please do let me know.”
“I want you to stay,” Din replied. He gently reached out a hand and took it in his - it was the first time that he’d given you such a vast gesture. “Isn’t that reason enough?”
“Yeah,” you smiled. “It is.”
--
Staying aboard the Razor Crest was one of the best decisions you’d ever made.
Not only because it meant you were well and truly safe, but because Din’s direct request was a sign to you that you weren’t imagining things. Whatever attachment you felt to him, he felt it too - but it ran deeper than that. There was a mutual concern and respect for one another. Something born of two lifetimes spent on their own, finally coming together in one.
Things had been a little slow before then; the way that you danced around each other, like two magnets that were meant to come together - just with a little hesitancy. There had been a lot of late nights and long trains of thought about the signals that the other was giving off; about whether you’d misinterpreted the way his hands lingered over yours, or the way you’d practically passed out on his shoulder.
But, after that - after Din had openly asked you to stay, and you’d happily agreed, things began to move a little faster. Where you’d once been slowly walking down that hill and towards each other, you were now slipping, tripping and falling.
With each passing night, you inched closer towards each other. God forbid you ever found out, but Din even found himself pushing the pilot’s chairs closer to each other when you weren’t in the room, just so he could properly feel you next to him when you dozed off. He enjoyed your presence at the best of times but it was those dark, quiet moments when he genuinely and fully needed you.
It came to a head one night when you’d laid down with the Child beside you - not upstairs in the cockpit, but in the tiny cot in the hull of the ship.
There wasn’t room for one person, let alone one person and a tiny creature. Even worse, for two people - one in a beskar suit - and the creature. It just didn’t work. It shouldn’t have worked.
But where there’s a will, there’s a way, and the moment that Din saw you dead to the world with the Child in your arms, he was certain that he was going to make it work. Maybe with a bit of reshuffling there, and if he just moved the kid here - and that was when Grogu bit him pretty hard on the finger.
Disregarding his reshuffling plan, he knew there was only one option left.
It was something he’d never dreamt of doing before, simply for how terrifying and exposing it was - but he took one glance at you, and once glance at his kid, and he knew it was going to be worth it in the long run. It was merely a necessary step to getting closer to you - physically, mentally emotionally.
You stirred slightly at the sound of metal clattering to the floor - not enough to wake up, but enough to be a little more aware of the room around you. A moment later, there was a quiet hiss, and then everything went black.
In your sleepy state, your brain reacted a little slowly - but then the mattress beneath you dipped, and you felt someone’s skin against yours. Not just skin, but stubble against the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to it, and warm fingers tangling with yours.
“The armour,” you murmured. “You took it off.”
“It was the only way,” he softly replied. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
“Okay,” you let out a sleepy hum. “Good night…”
“Din,” he quietly said.
“Good night, Din.”
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eligaxy · 3 years
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☆ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 : Venti x gn!Reader
☆𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 : near death experience, you’re confused asf about everything, bad writing cause i suck, spoilers for the we will be reunited quest!! And also for venti’s backstory, venti is serious for once (yes it’s a legitimate warning🤚)
☆𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 : Some angst, some fluff? Idk bye🤨
☆𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 : "It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask." (2.8k words)
♪𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 : i’m an idiot simp, i did this in one sitting and half asleep, english isnt my first language BLA BLA IM SORRY FOR MY POOR WRITING BUT HAVE THIS
basically you don’t know if you can trust venti or not, head says no, heart screams yes
Also, I was listening to stormterror’s lair ost while writing it, just because its fucking amazing, you might wanna listen to it too
I’m nervous to post this?/&:! This is the second fic i’ve ever finished in my whole life
i love venti and he’s hot in his god outfit i don’t make the rules
KAY ENJOY <3
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
"Please, anybody... Just help me."
Saying you were exhausted would have been an understatement. After reuniting with your sibling, you had been frantically searching for clues about khaenri'ah and ways to Inazuma. With no luck, you couldn't find any traces of Dainsleif or of your twin. The ruins had been sealed and you had no idea what happened to the inverted statue or the corpse you had found there. Desperately, you clung into every little information you had, you would have turned every rock on this archon damned continent if you had to, which is what led you into those ruins near Guilli plains.
Walking along the destroyed buildings your eyes caught sight of a dandelion and you froze. You missed them so much, why couldn't they go back home with you? All you ever wanted was to be by their side why, why were they running away from you?
You remembered your travels, the moments you shared together, their protectiveness over you, the fondness in their eyes when you smiled at them. You remember the times you got hurt and healed one another with your now missing powers. You remember sleeping by their side and being grateful to the universe to let you keep your ray of sunshine everywhere with you. How ironic.
What had they meant 'once you reach the end of your journey' ? What does that even mean? Stupid twin, if they knew you were here the whole time, why hadn't they come to you? Why were they always leaving just when they were within your grasp? Why? Did they know how much you missed them and how much your heart broke when you finally saw them? Did they?
You only realized you were crying when a small gust of wind had your wet cheek react to the cold, breaking your train of thought. Wind.
The wind is everywhere, you think, free as a bird, always accompanying every citizen of this world, never truly alone. With this in mind, you resumed your exploring, slower this time.
A sigh escaped your mouth. You didn't want to admit it, but the wind did comfort you a little. Almost as if he was here. God of freedom and of the breeze, he was more a singer than a protector and you couldn't bear to think about him. Was it true? What Dain said... Did he destroy this nation? Was he the cause of the scenery that still haunted your nightmares up until 500 years later? Your brain simply couldn't accept that Venti, your Venti, you catch yourself thinking, could have made such an act of wrath. He was the epitome of freedom, why would he take the very thing he based all of his existence on from mere mortals? Barbatos simply couldn't be afraid of being overpowered, he didn't even care about power. All he wanted was freedom and happiness for his people. Surley this couldn't be right?
But then again, who were you to deny the wipe out of an entire nation? The gods did it. They were afraid that Celestia would be overthrown by the pride of humankind, the destruction of khaenri'ah by divine beings was a fact. There was no misunderstanding about this. That was the one thing you were sure of. So why did you feel like crying even more now?
The mere thought of a gentle soul such as Venti committing innocent people to an eternity of suffering didn't sit right with you. Even when his dearest friend Dvalin had turned against him, he didn't try to stop him, didn't even ask the dragon to save him. He healed and helped him, gave him a choice.
'What is freedom if demanded of you by a god?' was the same person that asked this question the same one who committed mass murder? Genocide?
Did the little wine-lover bard you had grown fond of destroy all hopes and light your kin had?
You remember that night when he freed Stanley from his burden, freed his and his friends' spirits. You had marveled at his action, in that instant he was a god, and he definitely hadn't struck you as a murderer. You remember that look of silent pain and grief in his eyes when he sang the tales of the nameless bard he had taken the appearance of. You knew he trusted you enough to share his story, something so personal, you could almost feel the war that took down the tyrant of Mond. Oh how much you cherished that evening, treating him to some well deserved dandelion wine afterwards, his favorite, and asking him to sing you more about the time where was nothing but the spirit of a breeze.
Your heart broke a little, remembering his rosy cheeks and drunk smile, you wish you could talk to him, ask him what happened. What did he do, was he really as dangerous as you had been told? If so, then why did you feel so good around him? Why did you feel like you could give hi-
You stopped walking upon seeing a ruin guard up ahead in the distance. You're so stupid, you think. Feeling this way is not gonna get you anywhere, especially with how the bard had been missing for a few weeks now. Ever since you had last seen your sibling.
Where was he, where was he wandering off to? You walk towards the disabled ruin guard, not really paying any mind to it, still thinking about the god you longed to meet with. If you could see him, what would you even say? Would he even answer your questions? Why did your stomach feel so light and funny when you thought about seeing him, why aren't you angrier?
You're almost at the killing machine's level now, so lost in your thought you don't notice the five other similar robots hidden behind a wall next to it. You notice them only when it's too late and you've already turned them on while thinking about examining them and collecting their serial numbers. When you hear the familiar tick of the mechanism turning on, you internally panic and think about running away only to calm down moments later and think to yourself that you can simply beat it and take what you came here for. Even if you are emotionally and physically tired, you can manage, you think.
That was before hearing five other consecutive ticks right after it, and all around you.
Turning around, your gaze falls upon the small army of field tillers. Fuck.
Paimon wasn't with you today, you had asked for some time alone which she hesitantly accepted, so you couldn't ask her to go fetch help. You would have been worried if you had all your capacities but with the state you were in, you were wondering how you were going to survive this fight. You were alone, none of your companions with you, and deeply weakened by the busy day you had and the few hours of sleep you had managed to steal away from the night. Was it today you would meet your doom, with all your questions and uncertainties unanswered?
You tried your best to fight with the strength you had left, but quickly grew desperate after what felt like hours of efforts to swing your blade and being able to only take one monster down out of the six. It didn't help that you got injured along the way, their blows becoming harder and harder to dodge. After being thrown on the grown for the third time, you understood you had at least two broken ribs and that your shaking legs would soon fail you as well.
Fear crept upon you, you would die here today, alone. Alone. You couldn't talk to your sibling after all, couldn't understand. You didn't even get to talk to him one last time. Him... You would die without the knowledge of the truth about your bard. You would die alone. You didn't want that, you couldn't look death straight in the eye.
"Please, anybody... Just help me."
-
In Mondstadt, there was a musician, a weird singer everyone had heard about at least once. He lived off of his songs and was mostly known for having a great story-telling and being an alcoholic.
The number of people who knew the true nature of his identity were few and he was perfectly content with that. He didn't wish to be a god anymore, his gnosis had been taken away anyway and it's not like he had any power over the city of wind nowadays. Even if his people still worshipped him as Barbatos, it didn't sit right with him to be called a god anymore. It actually never did, he thinks to himself with a smile, he never really took any responsibilities that came with the divine title which is why he was so weak today. But it didn't matter to him, his smile turns into a soft giggle.
Sitting on a mill that was once born from his steps he looks fondly over the city he founded. Even if they were godless, the citizens were still thriving and free. He cared oh so very deeply about the place even if he rarely, if not never, showed the affection within his heart. He remembers the day he grew strong enough to dispel the storms over his actual Mondstadt, and made the weather gentle enough so that there was no need for fireplaces. Nowadays, he loves watching birds nest into the chimney tops and seeing them found their own home. It gave him a sense of belonging like no other, not above his people, but walking among them and watching them nest into this cocoon he created. He was proud of what happened to his land and would do it all over again if he had to.
Especially since it led to him meeting you. This thought doesn't catch him off guard, you often roamed around in his mind after all, and it's not like he didn't write at least three songs about you and your feat, your smile, your courage...
Ah there he goes again, rambling about you in a whisper. He turns around to the statue of him his people erected in his honor, chuckling at how they never made the connection with his signature braids. His, but not really his, since he had stolen this form from someone who was much more deserving of this power than him. Seeing his friend being honored with the statues of the seven around the land made him happy, he hoped that it was a good enough thank you gift in return for everything that the bard whom he couldn't even remember the name of anymore did for him.
Upon gazing at the statue, he remembered telling you of his long gone friend. It was the first time he had talked about him to someone else, he didn't even mention it to Venessa, she who made him believe in himself again. He could ask himself why, but he simply knew that you had something different, more than meets the eye. Perhaps it was because you weren't from Teyvat, or perhaps it was just you being as simple as your natural self but he was simply and utterly captivated by your being. You inspired him to no end, at first he thought it was because he had never met someone like you and he loved new things! But as time grew and he got to know you, he understood quickly the meaning and depth of his passions. He thought of it with a light chuckle, content with your presence alone. He really did need and want you around.
So why did he purposely avoid you like the plague?
The wind had brought to his ears that you had met with Dainsleif.
And your twin.
His first reaction was to search for you, talk to you, he wanted to be here to know what happened! You had searched so long, he couldn't contain himself, still listening to what the wind told him, he started running with excitement but... But wait, Dainsleif was... He told you what?
Oh.
So you heard about Khaenri'ah. He had stopped dead in his tracks and turned back, only sending a warm current of wind your way, hugging you from afar.
He wasn't ready to talk about this yet, not ready to face you and absolutely not ready to answer your questions. He was a coward, he thought, running away like that but what else could he do, really. It was only natural for him to be as uncatchable as air.
A sorry excuse to avoid the fact that even if his past had marvelous story like the one of the nameless bard, it also had its share of darkness, something he wasn't ready to dive back into. Especially not now when your arrival has been shaking this world up like it hasn't been since at least 500 years.
But oh, how he longed to see your face or to hear your voice. So he asked a breeze to report to him what you were up to, and where you were. Just in case! he tells himself, what if you needed help ehe? But he knows you're competent and you won't need the help of a weakling coward like him anytime soon. Or so he thought.
Because when the breeze only gives him a few words back, his blood runs cold.
"Please, anybody... Just help me."
-
As you murmured these words in your desperate state, not really for anyone but yourself as a last resort, a prayer of some sort, you tried to stand by leaning yourself on your sword and failing miserably. You didn't dare look up as you heard the loud footsteps of the metal giants coming your way. It was over, and you barely managed to accept it.
As you rested your forehead against the cold handle of your sword, you closed your eyes, tears starting to make their ways out of your closed eyelids. All you could feel was remorse.
A soft breeze moved your hair slightly and your chest felt like a black hole had taken place where your heart used to be, regretting to not have been able to meet him under the tree at Windrise one last time.
The breeze quickly grew stronger, until it felt unnatural and you looked up from the ground, only to close your eyes again immediately when you realized the wind was too powerful for you to keep them open. If you had struggled to see though, you would have been blinded by the white light that soon illuminated the whole ruins. You didn't have enough time to register the situation when you felt a hand being laid atop your shoulder, snaking around your collarbones and pulling you back into... nothing? Another arm circled your weak form and a voice you immediately recognized said
"I've dealt with things worse than you, now crumble."
You realized that if you couldn't feel a chest behind you while still being embraced by his arms, it was because he was floating above you, and not standing behind you. A look in his direction confirmed your suspicions but what stunned you wasn't the fact that he was flying, but the attire he wore. Barely covering his body, a white set made of materials that seemed like clouds and liquid gold contrasted perfectly with his regular green clothes. His hair was glowing green and his eyes that were focused on the ruin guards up ahead had a marvelous shine that you had never seen before. He had that same aura he did the night he freed Stanley, but there was also something different about the way his hands gripped you a little too tightly or the way his voice sounded.
"Venti.." You muttered his name, relief and affection flooding you all at once, in his presence you felt as if nothing bad could happen to you. How foolish could you be, just a few hours ago you were speculating wether or not he had wiped out an entire civilisation and now here you were, being saved by him and feeling safer than you had in months.
"Close your eyes, I don't want give you a headache" he said, slowly floating legs first towards the ground. His unusually serious voice surprised you (and him) but you did as he told you. Letting go of your sword and leaning back into him, you let him deal with the monsters ahead of you.
"It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask."
Being protected by a god really didn't feel that bad. Especially when you were in love with said god.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
Thank you so much for reading whatever this is until the end :’)
Don’t hesitate to comment or reblog, tysm <3
Ps: venti loves u and so do i do pls take care of urself mwah
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Drink Up - Geralt of Rivia x reader
Summary: Traveling for hours on end can become exceptionally loathsome, but with a bottle of something strong to pass the time, things get very interesting indeed.
Warning: reader and Jaskier talking about sexy times, reader getting drunk and things get entertaining, the trio being goofs tbh
-reader is part of my Geralt series (Of Monsters And Men)
Masterlist
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With not a whole lot of entertainment sprouting forth from the nearby scenery of the continent most days, or by the unfortunate lack of abundant random wanderers to cross your path. You’ve become accustomed to imploring very creative ways in amusing yourself while wayfaring the roads with your two favorite traveling buddies.
A Witcher, to handsome for his own good, and a lovely yet mildly annoying bard.
You’ve been currently hiking on this forest trail for half the day without much to pass the time. Sure Jaskier has delved into giving you all a show with his ballots and fantastic lute playing skills. But there’s only so much of that angelic voice you can take before it turns into the most goddamn irritating thing you’ve ever heard.
Also you’re pretty damn certain that Geralt could have been one more strum away from knocking the bard out cold, thus pleading for you to leave him there for the next unlucky fellow who decides to wander by.
The sun on the other hand keeps her great golden colors beaming across the landscape, warming the earth to a comfortable temperature on this calm spring afternoon. It’s been a good hour since anything interesting has happened and this stick you keep flipping around in your hand is not cutting it.
Pressing onward, your mind suddenly sparks with an idea, surly an idea that will stir up some much needed conversation on this rather dull trip though the peaceful woodland. Smirking to yourself, you glance to your right where Jaskier is walking with lute in hand, oblivious to your growing mischievousness.
Then your crimson gaze trails a small distance ahead where Geralt sits atop of Roach, his snowy head faced forward as he relishes in the quiet of the green woodland. Gods he looks like a proper knight, with that dark armor, sword on his back, and all that manliness seated atop his grand stead. Hmm, delicious.
Casually twirling your stick here and there, you turn your attention over to Jaskier who’s looking away from you, “Psst...Jaskier.” You whisper, making sure Geralt can’t hear.
The bards head snaps over to you in an instant, a new intrigued curiosity overtaking him, “Yes?” He whispers back just as quietly, blues darting over to Geralt who’s none the wiser.
You casually shrug, using your normal speaking voice now, “Just wanted to make sure you haven’t forgotten your name.”
His face falls, “Y/N.” He whines disappointedly, “Come on I’m bored as shit.” Complains Jaskier like a whiny little toddler before he huffs and pauses for a moment to think. Suddenly he taps the side of your bicep with the back of his hand, you raise a curious brow as he shrugs, “You got any good stories?”
Searching your extensive past of palpable events for a moment, your face quickly lights up, “Ohhh better then a story. Get a load of this shit.” You muse while pulling out a bottle of wine from your traveling pack, “Stole this from some pricy vendor. Figured it’d have some purpose sooner or later and right now I need it sooner.” You chuckle while popping off the spongy cork and taking a hearty swig.
Jaskier lets out a breathy laugh as he watches you fully enjoy your stolen beverage, “Not sure if I should be impressed or concerned.”
“Don’t worry I’ll share but only if you indulge me.” You quip before taking another gulp before bringing the bottle to your side, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before speaking, “I have a question for you my dear lover boy.” You inquire with a wiggle of your brows.
Jaskier smirks, ready for the challenge and some wine, “Ask away.”
Whipping your stick around, you point it at the bard, “Okay. And be honest, I can tell if you’re not.....what’s the best part of a woman?”
Jaskier nods, his face shifting into one of legitimate deep thought as he takes a considerable amount of time to contemplate the possibilities, “Well, I guess I’d say I’m decently fond of a good smile,” Admits the bard before he lets out a small chuckle, “cause if they don’t have one it’s regretfully difficult to watch them enjoy themselves if you understand my meaning.” Adds Jaskier, nudging your arm with his elbow as you roll your ruby irises.
“Hmm alright well you’re a fucking snooze.” You deadpan as he suddenly lets out a burst of laughter.
“Oh I didn’t realize you wanted all my inner most personal tastes, is that it then?” He wonders as you chuckle at his little half offended outburst.
“Tell me what gets you all hot and bothered and I’ll indulge you in my own appetites.” You add slyly, giving him a mischievous wink while continuing to twirl your stick and sip more of your strong liquor. Damn this stuff is strong.
He nods in understanding, a cheeky smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he decides to indulge you, “Well the lady asks, where to start?” Questions Jaskier.
“Oh I don’t know. Let’s say, personality aside cause we’re not here for that shit right now..” You swat the air theatrically before taking another sip of your drink, “...what do you think? Firm or soft, maybe even a little saggy?” You suggest, making a squeezing motion with your one hand while your stick is tucked underneath that arm.
“I’d say both. A breast is a breast.” He confirms Jaskier with a laugh.
“A man of all dishes served I see. I respect the inclusion of diverse variety.” You add with an honest nod of approval. “Alright. Are scars a turn off if severe?”
“Taverns are dark for a reason Y/N.” Muses Jaskier with a knowing look causing you to snort with laughter.
“Fair point.” You wheeze.
“Okay Y/N/N, my turn.” Inquires Jaskier as you hand him the liquor.
“Lets hear it.”
He gives you back your bottle, “So....what’s so intriguing about that old grumpy wolf up there?” Questions Jaskier as he nods towards Geralt who’s minding his sweet business from his perch on Roach. No doubt probably listening.
Biting your lip, your eyes linger on the broad leathered back of your silver haired lover, “Are we talking physically or personality wise?” You wonder while turning your attention back to the bard, your voice lowering a couple octaves, “cause let me tell you he’s not much for words most times...” You lean in closer to Jaskier before whispering, “but I can get him moaning so goddamn fast.”
“Oh gods. Please tell me everything.” Presses Jaskier with a laugh as you take another sip from the bottle. Shit, you’re already feeling buzzed, guess it is much stronger then once previously thought.
Giving Jaskier a fangy smirk, you point the stick in Geralt’s general direction, “You asked so you’ve been warned. This man can come absolutely undone within minutes, literally all I gotta do is call him some cute names and lick his cheek...you know, feel him up a bit. Get him feeling all loved and appreciated you know?”
“Really?” Inquires Jaskier, enjoying your progressively drunken shpeel of personal info regarding yours and Geralt’s sex lives.
“Oh fuck yeah, but what really gets him off, is if I undress in front of him and then get all dominant and rough you know. He loves that shit.” You explain with a smile as Jaskier stares at you in awe. “He’s a moaning mess after I put on the charm, practically cumming at my command. The fucking power I have.” You mumble proudly with a shake of your bottle, though you try and keep your voice down.
“Y/N, you are, quit the woman.” Points Jaskier like a proud father watching his daughter marry to a prestigious lord of great wealth.
“I know.” You add with a shrug, clearly self confident and half drunk by now, “I’m a seductress what can I say?” Taking a moment to drink some more wine as Jaskier holds in his laughter.
He watches you trip on nothing before regaining your bearings a second later, “So uh, how you feeling?”
You give him a fangy grin, raising your bottle in salute, “Fantastic.”
“That’s good.” He muses, clearly not believing you, “How’s the wine?”
“Delectable and worth every coin!” You whisper yell, raising your bottle once more, the dwindling contents swirl around, some drops falling out as you bring the glass back down to your side.
“I thought you stole it?”
You snort, “I did.”
“Hmm alright, maybe uh....maybe slow it down on the intake Y/N?” Says Jaskier, taking notice of your new inebriated state and knowing all to well what you’re like when fully drunk of your ass.
“Fuck off bard I’m fine.” You mutter with an elated snicker before starting to giggle like a drunken jester in a kings court, causing Geralt to turn his head to the side in interest before shrugging and looking down the trail once again.
“You sure?” Half worries Jaskier, though in truth he’s absolutely living for the situation unfolding in front of him, “I’d rather not have you puking later.”
Scoffing you take another sip, “I’m not getting sick Jaskrr, I’m just horny.”
Brows raised in surprise, he coughs, “Oh, that’s um...good....I think?”
Almost tripping over a jutted out root, you bite your lip while eyeing up Geralt hungrily, “Now that....is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and you know what?”
“What should I know?” Wonders Jaskier with interest, making no faults to decrease how he’s clearly egging you on.
Grinning with a face full of mischief, you snicker, “Well....I can say I’ve seen his dick.” The bards eyes widen in amusement as you continue, “Which is...by the way....very lovely and large, he knows how to please a woman if you know what I mean.” You mumble quickly with a wink as Jaskier snorts.
“Oh, that’s good to know. What else is nice about him?” He agrees while successfully baiting you on further.
“Hmm mhmmm. Big muscles, Jask, big muscles.” You emphasize while leaning into the bards side and squeezing his less then impressive biceps, “Oh and he’s so good at hugging and cuddles.” You squeak with joy, shaking Jaskier as you swoon over Geralt, “Ugh, I love it when he’s shirtless and he looks at me and I just....ugh I’ll take my pants off so goddamn fast.”
Shoving his face into the crook of his arm to keep from laughing, Jaskier does all in his power to refrain from losing it while you lean away, stumbling around on the trail, oblivious to how hilarious he’s taking everything you just confessed to him. The biggest lovestruck grin dancing across your features as you stare longingly at Geralt’s leather clad back. A flash of lust rising in your smiling expression as you eye him up.
“I want.” You mutter, throwing your stick to the side as you make a childlike grabby motion with your hand.
“Y/N he’s on a horse.” Explains Jaskier as you make a face.
You scoff, sending Jaskier another dirty look, “You don’t understand.”
“Y/N it’s the middle of the day and we’re in an unknown forest.” Warns the bard, “Not exactly the time or place for whatever is brewing in your head.”
“Nuthin’s brwing in me head Jask.” You slur, tripping once again before just barely catching yourself.
Jaskier gives you a less then convinced expression, seeing straight though your terrible lying, “I don’t believe you.” He says while you frown.
“But he looks so delicious.” You whine with a dramatic pout, “And I’m so fecking horns right noww ‘cause of....wull, I just’am!” You grumble, turning your head to face Jaskier with an angry little frown before a mischievous smile begins to form upon your lips.
Jaskier blinks, knowing all to well what drunk you is capable of, “Y/N. Don’t you dare.” He warns.
“Waterr you gonna do bart?” You challenge, pushing him though its a weak assault that does nothing significant, “Fight me? I’ll kick your little pixie ass.”
Shaking his head, Jaskier takes a cautious step away from you, “Definitely not. Actually you know what? He’s all yours, go get him Y/N.” Urges Jaskier, really anticipating the possible beautiful disaster that may just soon enough present itself.
Raising your brows in pleasant surprise, you down the rest of your bottle, “Ha! Yu’r not as stupi’s ass’he says yur. I knews it. All along, nev’r a doubt in my mind really.....I sw’r it........promise.” You slur, the alcohols affects really starting to delve into your system.
Jaskier’s brows furrow in confusion, not one hundred percent sure how he should take that, “Well, that’s good I suppose.”
“Yes.........it is....... isn’t it.” You agree with a couple quick nods that look like a small child who’s trying desperately to get their parent to agree with them, “Okay, I’m go’in ta get h’em ov’tha house now.” You pause a moment, brows furrowing in thought as you grab Jaskier by the shoulder, “Horse. That’s uh, what I mean.....yeah.”
Jaskier opens his mouth to say something but you’re already stumbling quickly down the beaten trail much faster then he’d anticipated. You zero in on Geralt’s fine leather armored back, your vision slightly blurred and your legs a bit wobbly from the strong alcohol you’ve managed to make empty in less then ten minutes.
Shaking the fuzziness from your head, you drop the empty bottle in the dirt before hustling to Geralt’s side. Stopping quickly, halting a moment to gather yourself before walking onward, continuing side by side next to his feet and Roach’s middle.
Geralt hums before casually turning his head to find your beaming face with the dark of your eyes as big as a ceramic plate. Raising a brow, the Witcher throws Jaskier an odd look before shifting his attention back down to you.
“Y/N?” He mutters, not sure if you’ve eaten something you shouldn’t have or were recently hexed by some random fairy nearby. 
Letting out a little burp, you hold your hands close to your chest all the while giving him the biggest smile, “I’m....in’loe....v..uh, love....with’u.”
Geralt let’s out a humored snort at your intoxicated self while you await his answer to your grand declaration of love that he was indeed able to understand, “Sorry, I’m taken.” He quips, obviously teasing you though you’re to drunk to realize this.
Frowning you look at the ground in disappointment, “oh.” You whisper sadly causing Geralt to legitimately feel bad until your whole demeanor shifts to heated aggression, “That fucking bitch!” You shout coherently through a small slurred wavering in your angered voice, scaring some perched crows from their keep as well as a couple of innocent rabbits.
Geralt listens to the muffled laughter of Jaskier as you throw your hands up in aspiration before letting out a colorful stream of curses, “No good dirty whore faced dog shit horse shit bitch who’s clamed h’em ferr the’own!”
“Do’snt mak’any sense! I have a sw’urd! I can run....really fast! I’m half vampurrr goddammit!” You shout into the woods, struggling to keep your words together, “I’m pre-destinated...pre-dun.....pre-dragons....destiny, de-destined to be seductive! I am sexy!” You shout dramatically.
“Okay, Y/N let’s not wake something or someone with ill intentions.” Interrupts Geralt as you make two frustrated fists, your face appearing rather angered, crimson eyes dancing with hellfire.
“No!” You snap before turning an accusing dagger up at him, where you got that he’s not sure, “Tell me..who’s this-this donkey wumunnn! So I can...grrr....so I can uh, so I can...” Quickly looking down, you struggle to put away your dagger back into it’s designated sheath, you frown once again before shifting your face into a fake, yet rather convincing smile, “I just’uv sum’thins to say to’er. Thas’all. Promise.” You add sweetly, grin as shiny as a barrel of shimmering pearls and honestly a bit sadistic if he didn’t know any better.
Chuckling at your adorable drunken antics, Geralt shrugs, “She’s from a far away land. About a couple leagues from here northwest.”
“Wha’else.” You demand urgently, tone authoritative and hostile.
“She’s pretty tough, and very beautiful.” Teases Geralt as you scowl in irritation for this unidentifiable cunt who’s taken your man.
“Disgustin.” You scoff, flicking a hand upward as you mutter, “Go’un.”
“She’s got the most lovely body I’ve ever seen, and her laugh is more angelic then all the greatest singers in the entire continent.” He confirms with a handsome smile that would have you swooning like a fair maiden if not for how filled with hatred you are right now. 
“Blah.” You dismiss while sticking out your tongue in disgust, “Com’un giv’m a name. Then I’ll handle the’rst.”
“I don’t want you to hurt her.” He mutters with a shrug, holding back laughter at your amusing facial features.
“I won’t.” You sass, making a face before mumbling, “Jus’wanna talk....re’memr.”
“I don’t think I believe you Y/N.” Affirms the handsome Witcher much to your frustration.
“I jus’wanna fucking talk!” You growl as Jaskier cackles in the background, clearly enjoying this conversation though you can’t understand what’s so funny.
Snapping your head in his direction, you squint your eyes at him menacingly before yanking off a hanging thin branch and launching your new makeshift weapon full force in his general direction. He yelps in surprise before ducking, the wooden assault just missing his face by mere inches.
“Dear gods Y/N!” Gasps the bard with wide eyes as you snicker at his dramatic reaction.
“Fuck’ov h’was gonna tell me!”
“No he wasn’t!” Argues Jaskier while fearfully clutching his lute to his chest, afraid you might start swinging.
“H’was and I’m gonna fuck’n kill that bitch!” You snap angrily as Roach snorts, having not a single iota what the hell you’re saying. Only that you sound like some wounded beast on their last hour.
Rolling his baby blues in annoyance, Jaskier shouts back, “There is no other woman or man or any fucking forest nymph that Geralt has any sort of eyes for! You-you crazy woman!”
“How’u know? He doesn’t tell you shit!” You yell back, emphasizing the last word with some heat.
“He does! For your humbled information.” Protests Jaskier sassily while Geralt silently listens to you two idiots scream at one another in the middle of some large lumbering forest. His drunken lover and his, perhaps he could say it, friend who happens to be a bard.
“Oh really?!” You challenge, “Wel’in who’s this fuck’in cunt who’h said he’s with’en? Huh?!” You shout back.
Jaskier let’s out a stream of incomprehensible mumbles before throwing his hands into the air in frustration, “That’s because this woman is you, you drunken bat!”
“I’mnut drunk! Nor’m I a bat!” You yell, ignoring the fact that he confirmed you’re indeed Geralt’s lover, “I didn’evn drink tha’mush!”
“You drank the whole bloody bottle!” Claims Jaskier, much to your great shock and bewilderment, that Geralt struggles to keep himself from losing it atop of Roach.
 You scoff, clearly not believing a single thing out of this bards mouth, “I dunt see’a bottle!”
“That’s because you threw it somewhere!”
“Wel’wy woulda’ do’tha?” You snap, hands fanned out to each side in puzzlement like an angry castle pigeon standing up to a hulking statue.
“Oh I don’t know...let me think for a brief moment here...oh right! Because you’ve drank more then a king on his wedding night!” Shouts Jaskier as Geralt rolls his golden eyes, moving to jump off of Roach.
Standing oblivious to your Witcher who’s no more then five feet away from you now at ground level, your eyes start to grow darker as your frustration grows in this hazy state you’re in. “Mayb’if I knuck you’ot wit’a lute then’ull shut up!” You slur, taking a threatening step forward.
The bards eyes widen in fear for a moment as he sends Geralt a desperate glance, “Geralt!”
“Y/N.” Mutters Geralt gently in that grumbly voice of his, causing you to immediately turn in his direction.
Eyes softening, you instantly break out into a joyful fangy grin, “Yes.” You mumble happily, eyes shifting from his boots to his face as you shamelessly check him out.
“Come here.” Beckons your beautiful Witcher with a pleasant smile upon his plush lips, his arms soon reach out for yours and quickly enough they intertwine.
You blink back your slightly blurred vision to witness as Geralt’s lips flicker from your mouth to your shimmering irises of ruby red, a second later he pulls you flush against him for a heated embrace. Just want you wanted. 
Your lips move passionately against his own, a delighted smile forming as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue inside your mouth. Then all to soon he pulls away and your lips are left empty and wanting so much more.
Pouting you make an adorably angered face, “Wul’that wasn’t nearly s’long as it coulda been.” You grumble bluntly, suddenly yawning as you try desperately to keep focused on his face. His beautiful face. So pretty, so kissable, so lovely.
Dark spots skip and flare through your fading vision until without warning your legs feel like they’ve turned to pudding, giving out from underneath you in an instant and all you’re able to witness is Geralt’s lovely face before....
Darkness.
——
Waking up from a deep sleep, your eyes open to the sound of a fire crackling nearby, the sweet smell of grilled leaks wafting into your nostrils that aids in fully awakening your senses. You let out a sleepy yawn, sitting yourself up from your once previous positioning on your rolled out travel sack underneath you.
Sitting criss crossed, you wipe the bleariness from your scarlet irises before sucking in a deep breath and blinking, your sights now set on the campfire in front of you, a beautiful glow of bright oranges and gold. Geralt and Jaskier on either side, both quietly talking to one another before turning to face you. A knowing smile on either of their faces. Oh, Gods what did you do? And how did you even get here?
Shifting your confused gaze from Jaskier to Geralt and back again, you raise a puzzled brow, “Would any of you be kind enough to tell me how the fuck it’s already dark out?”
“What do you mean Y/N? It’s sunny as a summers day.” Confirms Jaskier with an honest smile, blue eyes looking into the fire as he strums a cord on his lute.
Shaking your head, you sniff, “Okay fuck you.”
Jaskier laughs as Geralt lets slip a couple chuckles before explaining, “You drank all of that wine bottle you stole.”
“Shit.” You mutter while rubbing your temples, “Who let me do that?”
“You did.” Adds the bard.
“Did I threaten you? I feel like drunk me was yelling for some reason, my throat kinda feels weird.”
“You were trying to get me to tell you the name of my lover.” Affirms Geralt with a laugh, “Which is obliviously you. Though drunk Y/N thought otherwise.”
“Fantastic.” You deadpan before turning on your side and laying on your back, deciding to relax once again, “So, how’d I get here? I forget after I was telling Jask about...uh, well...doesn’t matter.”
Smiling to himself from the explicit information you slipped to him about yourself and Geralt in the bedroom, Jaskier chuckles at that while Geralt moves to lay down as well, his head close to yours as you both make an L on the ground. “I put a drop of sleeping potion on my tongue and when I kissed you...”
“You gave me tongue and drugged me?” You confirm with a breathy laugh, honestly quit impressed he managed to pull that off so smoothly. Well, then again you were drunk off your ass.
Geralt hums, “It was either that or let you kill Jaskier. It was a tough decision really.”
“What?” Gasps Jaskier, “You had to think about it?”
“And he chose to slip me some enchanted sleeping juice instead. You’re welcome.”
Jaskier scoffs, “Yeah well you wanted to fuck him in the woods so....shut it.”
“We still can,” Mutters Geralt with a smile, face turned a bit so he has a better view of your face, “if you want.”
Smirking back at him, Jaskier almost chokes on his own spit, “I am right here. Right here Geralt. Right here.”
You laugh at the bards dramatics, “We never said you had to watch.”
“Wha-thats besides the point! And just, ugh please don’t....” Whines Jaskier, making a face of disgust before frowning, “or at least just wait for me to fall asleep.”
Laughing, you give the bard an agreeable nod, “Don’t worry we will.”
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holden-caulfield · 4 years
Text
Because She's Worth It
↪︎ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Summary: reader's friends find out about her secret relationship with Draco Malfoy.
Warnings: none, just a terribly written ending.
Word Count: 1428
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//
"Watch where you're going, traitor." said your so-called friend Harry as he bumped into your shoulder without even looking you in the eyes.
He had a reason to be mad at you, just not a good one in your opinion. You had been dating the slytherin prince for quite some time now, but you had decided to keep your relationship a secret, afraid of the judgement of your friends. After the recent events, rightfully so.
They had found out a thursday morning: the gryffindors had transfiguration with the slytherins and once the lesson was over, Crabbe and Goyle thought it would have been funny to pick on you and the golden trio. You reacted with your usual snarky remarks to put them in their place but what surprised you was that Draco had intervened and told them to stop. The action shocked everyone, including himself. You looked at him with an alarmed look and he played it off with a quick comment,
"Why even bothering with these nullities? Just you wait and they'll realize they don't belong here." Crabbe and Goyle laughed at the statement as if it was the greatest joke to have ever been told and you sighed in relief.
"If there's someone who doesn't belong here, it's you, Malfoy!" spat Harry, still set on arguing.
"Let's just go away." you whispeded, trying to stop Harry and Draco from starting something everyone would have regretted. Hermione grabbed Harry and Ron but Harry didn't budge, instead he took a step closed to Draco.
"What's up Malfoy? Not in the mood to bully anyone today?" said Ron. Draco visibly stiffened and you could tell he was trying very hard not to tell them off there and then but he knew you wouldn't have appreciated it. Crabbe and Goyle got closer too, feeling surprisingly feisty that day.
"Why don't you listen to your stupid girlfriend and go away?" at Goyle's comment, Draco's eyes began burning.
"I am not his girlfriend!" you objected, but Goyle wasn't done yet.
"Whatever, why don't you shut your stupid mouth and use it for something more useful, like-"
"Why don't you shut your mouth before I make you!" spat Draco, grabbing Goyle's robe's lapels in his hands.
"What?" Goyle looked legitimately terrified as he asked the question, but Draco kept his eyes trained on him and didn't move. You placed your hand on Draco's shoulder and he suddenly seemed to realize what he had just done.
"Don't you ever talk to her like this." he released Goyle and he immediately backed away. The trio's gazes were fixed on you as you gently took Draco's hand in your own, knowing that you wouldn't have been able to keep the secret any longer anyway. He cast a worried glance at you and you squeezed his hand, reassuring him.
"Malfoy, really?" asked Ron poisonously. You opned your mouth to explain everything, but he stormed off, followed by Harry and Hermione. She gave you a comforting look, meaning she would have talked with them, but you had a bad feeling about this and you were right.
It had already been a week since the episode and you still hadn't talked with Harry nor Ron. They ignored you everytime and you were getting quite frustrated. You were sad because you missed your friends but you were also angry because you thought they would have at least given him a chance. You also felt a little bit of guilt, but that feeling was immediately sent away with Draco's loving kisses and sweet words to reassure you you hadn't done anything wrong. Luckily, Hermione gave you a chance: you told her everything and she understood you, she didn't necessarily approve of Draco, but she knew he made you happy and that was enough.
After a week of not talking you thought they would be up to listen to you, but when you tried talking with them in the corridors, they simply bumped into you.
"Watch where you're going, traitor." you felt your heart break a little, you couldn't believe your best friends were treating you that way. Draco's hand was interlaced with your own but when he saw the look in your eyes after the encounter, he knew he had to do something and not just stay there and watch you getting hurt over and over again by your friends' silence. He broke the contact and strode over to Harry and Ron, placing himself in front of them. A deep scowl was plastered on both of their faces, but Draco's own frown was even deeper. You rushed up to them, fearing the worst, but instead of hexing them, Draco started talking:
"Listen here kow, Potter. You don't like me and I don't like you and I never will. I've done dreadful things to you and many others of this school, some of them I don't regret. I know I don't deserve your pity, but that incredible witch right there does. She saw something in me that I didn't even know was there. She makes me a better person by simply existing and gracing me with her presence and you are a complete and utter fool to voluntarily cut her out of your life merely because she gave me a chance. She deserves to be happy and I feel incredibly lucky knowing she chose me over anyone else, I will do everything in my power to make sure she is content, even if this means talking to you or even pleading you. Because she's worth it. So if you decide you still wish to be a touchy downright prat, at least have the decency to respect her or I'll make you regret it."
Draco's love words were laced with venom as he glared at Harry and Ron who were now staring back at him, mouth agape. He waited a few moments before interweaving your hands back together and resuming his path towards the slytherin common room. When the two of you arrived there and closed the door behind you, you immediately threw your arms around him, almost making him tumble down. He held you close to him, one hand on you low back and the other holding your head. You pulled away only to crash your lips on his, your hands cradling his face as if he could disappear. He kissed you back passionately until you both had to pull away to breathe.
"Should I lash out more often? Because so far I'm loving the consequences." he said with his usual smirk as you both rested your foreheads against each other. You rolled your eyes and gave him a quick peck on the nose.
"Idiot."
"I'm profoundly offended!" he feigned hurt, slightly receding from you.
"No, come here! I want to grace you with my presence!" you retorted with a playful pout on your lips.
"Oh shut up." he grabbed you by the waist and held you flush against his chest, reconnecting your lips once more before settling on the green couch in front of the fireplace.
You spent the night in Draco's dorm just like you had done many times before and got ready to head to the great hall for breakfast. You and Draco walked into the hall, his arm slung around your shoulders. You saw your friends sitting at the gryffindor table, but quickly avoided eye contact. Despite that, they noticed you and made their way towards you.
"Can we talk, y/n?" asked Ron, nodding towards the door you had just walked in from. You nodded 'yes' and led them outside.
"We're sorry, y/n." began Harry. Hermione slightly nudged Ron with her elbow.
"Yeah, we're sorry, y/n. We behaved like complete gits." added Ron ruefully.
"I think someone else here deserves your apologies..." you suggested and Draco raised his brow at you before smirking lightly.
"We're not going to apologize to Mal-" Hermione nudged Ron again, a bit harder this time, and Ron immediately changed his mind.
"We're sorry, Malfoy, I guess." said Ron annoyed. You raised your eyebrow at Harry who scoffed before adding, "yeah, sorry."
"And I think that someone else should apologize too." Draco's complacency was soon replaced by a look of confusion as you looked up at him expectanctly. He rolled his eyes in annoyance before muttering, "I'm sorry but I still loathe you"
"Likewise." stated Harry before you pulled all your friends in a tight hug. You pulled away and gripped Draco's hand.
"Can we go now? I'm starving." admitted Ron and you all made you way towards the great hall.
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cuddlesslut · 4 years
Text
Part FOUR : Chance Encounters
Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader
Tags: slight NSFW, Heavy Angst.
A/N: so this will NOT be the last chapter there will be more. Just like there are more choices now lol, don’t be shy to tell me who you route for. Also let me know if y’all want more NSFW I’m chill with writing it . ALSO slight canon divergence the timing on when Hinata comes back from Brazil is different, obviously in the Manga he’s only gone for two years. In this story it is longer. Hinata isn’t on MSBY yet. Also we are only caught up on 5 months since the dreaded birthday.
Part Three: Memories
Part Five: Friends
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You spent your birthday in some hotel room. Sitting on the plush bed still in your dress not bothering to change your curl in to a fetal position as sobs raked through you. Your whole world crashed down on you everything you knew was a lie. Your phone lit up with one last birthday message from some distant relative. You see the time it’s now one in the morning you’ve been laying here for hours you can’t understand how you have any liquid in your body left to cry but still tears trail down your cheeks as you look at your lock screen. It’s a photo from three Christmas’s ago. Atsumu held you close from behind as you pose in front of a festive Christmas tree. Your eyes are shut tight from laughter as the setter places a kiss to your cheek bone, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. This was your favorite photo of the two of you, it always showed the realness in this candid shot. You remember laughing so hard from some cheesy joke he had just whispered in your ear. Your heart twists at the photo, a moment of anger slices through you. Was any of it real? You fling your phone at the wall effectively shattering the screen. You scream into the pillow. You wish you could feel numb to all of the emotions. But no ones that lucky. You aren’t sure when you feel asleep but you wake to find the remnants of tears stuck to your face. You move to the bathroom. You look like death. Your face is pale and eyes swollen and red. Your body aches from the fitful sleep you had. You grab a quick shower before putting on your comfiest pajamas and lay back down. All the energy is drained you look for your phone before remembering your fit of rage last night groan. You switch on the TV for some form of distraction but the gods must really hate you as it opens to a sports channel and you see him in all of his intensity standing on the volleyball court. Part of your brain pleads to change the channel but you must be a masochist as you watch him in all his usual glory. He commands the stadium as he goes up to serve. He looks perfectly fine like you hadn’t just walked out of his life. Like he hadn’t just ripped your world to shreds. You're finally turning the television off sitting in the silence thinking of the memories of your home. You ordered some takeout trying to settle the ache in your stomach. The food tasted bland, everything has lost its edge. The bed offers no comfort. The sunlight offers no warmth. It’s not long before you fall into another depression nap.
Waking up late in the evening you can’t stop your mind from making a stupid decision. But you miss him. You just want to see him. That’s how you end up outside of the door that leads to the home you shared with him. Trying to work up the courage to enter. His car was in his usual spot so you know he's here. A bitter thought run through you at the thought that while you were here he couldn’t be bothered to be home before two am at the earliest, yet the first night gone and here he is at home at ten o’clock. Silently you open the door. It was a mistake. You don’t make it even completely through the threshold before you hear the obnoxious moan and grunts, the sound of skin slapping. It makes you sick “OH Miya-San!” You hear some woman bellow out. You feel nauseous. You hurry out the door trying you best not to cause any noise to interrupt the activities in the house. You bend over you feel as though you’ll throw up right there on the spot. After calming yourself you make a way to a convenience store picking up a bottle of wine before heading back to you hotel room. There’s no way you’ll make it through the night sober.
The next morning you clean your self up before heading to the bank and clear out your joint account. Normally you’d feel bad taking the money but this cash was saved for your wedding and that would never happen now. You stopped by the phone store getting your own account not wanting anymore strings attached to the player. You spend the rest of your morning looking for a small affordable apartment. Luckily you were able to find one with in distance of your school and a reasonable price. It’s now the afternoon and you have to rush not wanting to be late for your class. Although it probably wouldn’t have made a difference if you had missed today, you barely pay attention. You find yourself back with the hotel walls.
You feel completely and utterly alone. You want nothing more to call your best friend or stop by Samu’s shop and cry on his shoulder while you eat some comfort food. But there is hesitation Suna was Atsumu's friend before he was yours, and you'll probably break down in tears just looking at Osamu he was his damn twin for heavens sake. What were you to them you wonder. You only got close to them because of the setter. Part of you wanted to believe that they cared about you and all of those friendships would still be there but you couldn’t. How could they want you around. You really question your place in their lives. It’s hard to trust in anything you had also believed Atsumu loved you and would never hurt you, yet that much was proven untrue. It's hard to trust in anything you feel or know. Another reason is your afraid of all of the memories you shared with them Atsumu ever present in those moments. You don’t want to think about him any more. You don’t want any remnants of that man In your life. While you want to believe Suna would be there for you, that he’d choose you. It was not a risk you were ready to take. You don’t think you could survive another heartbreak. It’s better to leave things as is, to cherish the good memories and not risk tainting them with pain.
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It’s been two months since your birthday. You’ve moved into a quaint apartment. You got a job working at a little cafe to pay for rent. Between work and studying for your degree you try to keep yourself busy. It’s hard being on your own. You try to distract yourself with the things that brought you joy. Some days are better than others but all in all everything still hurts. Graduation is only a couple of months away so at least there’s something to look forward too. There are moments that come quite often that you miss your friends but you can’t bring yourself to reach out still untrusting. You look back sometimes and wonder where the lies stopped. You avoid everything that has to do his Atsumu Miya. Even the sight of a simple volleyball brings distress.
Three and half months later the cosmos played another prank on you. It was just another Friday afternoon and you were working in the cafe. You had just helped a young beautiful woman at the counter. She seemed so familiar but you couldn’t quit place it. You could see a puzzled look on her face. Then it hit you. You knew exactly who this woman was. She was the one with your ex fiancé at the restaurant that fateful night. The realization must have struck her too. Her eyes grew wide with worry. Although you weren’t expecting what she did next.
“I AM SO SORRY,” she basically yelling as she bows in front of you. “ I’m so sorry for the part I played in your pain.” She continues. You can tell she is really distressed. You coworkers and a few costumers look at the spectacle. Hating all of the attention now directed toward the both, you beg her to please stand.
“I need you to understand I had no idea, I would never have gone for a taken man.”
You sighed and sent a look to your coworker that you were going to take a quick break. “Would you like a cup of coffee,” you ask her. You never thought That you’d be sitting having coffee with the mistress of the only man you ever loved yet here you are. There’s an awkward silence for a moment. You don’t rush things you can see she’s also having a hard time trying to figure out where to start. You take a sip of your coffee as she finally speaks.
“My names Yuki,” she states.
“YN ,” you offer back.
“Well, umm YN I just want to say I am so sorry for wh-” you cut her off holding up your hand.
“You said you didn’t know, correct?” You send a glance at her raising your eyebrow. She nods.
“Are you still with him?” She sits up straight.
“Absolutely not,” she states with conviction “after you left I asked him what just happed and he explained who you were and I left.. well not with out dumping my drink in face" she gave a little giggle.
“Ha! Oh I wish I could have seen that,” you laughed picturing him drenched in the restaurant. “In that case you have nothing to apologize for, you are a victim of Atsumu’s selfishness as well. I’m sorry he put you through that.” She gave a sad smile you could see she was hurt too. The two of you spent a few more moments in each other’s comfort discussing the facts of his affair. It hurts to know that he had a legitimate relationship with Yuki but a part of you was glad to know. It was a small piece of closure to know how deep his transgressions ran, knowing it wasn’t just sex hurt even more. But it furthered your stance that he didn’t love you and if he had at one point the love had faded on his part some time ago. You spent the rest of your shift plagued with thoughts of you past.
After your shift you went home to change before heading out to your local bar. In your time alone you had taken solace in drinking with strangers. After dressing in an appealing yet comfortable outfit you headed out. You wanted to feel comfy and relaxed but that didn’t stop you from wanting to look nice. In your past visits it wasn’t uncommon for men to try and talk you up and while you did indulge in the compliments none had succeeded in getting you to return home with them. There had yet to be a guy who fully kept your attention away from your former lover.
You found your favorite spot at the bar, just far enough from the blaring music and smokers. You smiled at the bartender before ordering your usual. You sat there letting the liquor relax you as you listened to what music the DJ was playing tonight. Normally you stick to just drinks but after the day you had you need something to take the edge off. After downing a shot of tequila you notice a presence next to you.
“Is this seat taken,” the man smiled at you. You had never seen him here before and you know damn well you would have noticed him before. Although he wasn’t a giant like most of the men you knew in your life, he wasn’t excessively short either you could tell he’d still stand taller than you. You couldn’t lie the man was extremely defined and muscular, you swear his tanned thighs that you saw peeking from under his khaki shorts were bigger than your face. His skin was tanned you can tell from pleanty of time in the sun. He had strong jaw line but his most prominent feature was this bright mop of orange hair he tried to hide under a ball cap. He had a bright smile that reached his alluring brown eyes. It was safe to say he was very handsome. He tilts his head to the side a little smirk reaching his lips. It then you realized you had never responded and just been sitting here gawking.
“Um no it’s not uhh go ahead,” you stammered out feeling a blush creep on to your cheeks at your response. What is this feeling why are you acting like a school girl.
He takes the seat next to you ordering a beer then turning to you reaching out his hand. “ Shoyo Hinata,” he states.
You accept his hand giving it a light shake. “ YN LN,” you responded. “ I’ve never seen you here before Hinata-San,” you prod wanting to know about the stranger.
“Just Shoyo is fine,”he gives you another dazzling smile. “I actually just moved back to Japan,” he states “this is my first time at this bar , but with customers as beautiful as you I’ll definitely have to come more often.” Ohh hes smooth you think. You let out a light chuckle at his compliment although it’s fairly simple compared to some of lines you’ve heard it definitely has the desired affect on you.
“Well then Shoyo where are you traveling from?” Question not wanting the convo to stop.
“I just got back from Brazil,” he mused that signature smile never far from his face.
“Wow Brazil! That’s so far was it hard to be so far from home?”you questioned.
The conversation with Hinata flowed effortlessly. Pleanty of laughes shared as he told you countless stories of his time in South America. Being in conversation with him is like talking to the sun it’s so bright and happy. He does eventually mention playing beach volleyball and for a moment you mind thinks of your ex but it then you realized it was the first time since Sho made his appearance that you had thought of the setter. It felt nice to finally have your mind clearing from the twin. As of recent at any mention of volleyball you would have ended the convo making an excuse to leave, yet you didn’t want to, plus beach volleyball is completely different than regular volleyball you reason.
Time passes by as well do several drinks. You are by no means drunk just a little tipsy. Over the course of your talking the space between Hinata started to narrow. Right now you were so close you could smell his cologne and the slight minty scent of his breath. His hand caressed your elbow. Your breath hitched when he finally leaned in “do wanna get out of here?,” you can see his iris’s darken ever so slightly. “We can go back to my place,” he continued.
Several thoughts ran threw your mind in that moment. One, you were nervous, you hadnt been with anyone other than Atsumu. Two, you were sure you weren’t ready for a relationship but it was just sex it’s not like he’s asking on a romantic vacation. And three you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours. “Absolutely.”
That’s how you got to where you are now. You barely made it through the threshold before Hinata had you pinned to the door. You were locked in a searing kiss. It was like he was stealing the air from your lungs. His hands roamed your figure before slipping under your blouse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he breaths before pressing a kiss under your jaw trailing down you neck. You place you hands on his shoulders trying to ground yourself. You let out a loud moan as he gives a bite to your shoulder while grabbing a hand full of you breast. He smiled into you neck with pleasure from the sounds you made. The two of you stumbled a bit as you started making your way to his room shedding clothes left and right. The door closed to the bedroom and you were ready for a mindblowing night.
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So I was showing my sister your amazing Q-A posts, when I came across Peter's. I realized that you just keep mentioning the incompetence of the Order, and how they're just a bunch of babysitters who don't do anything throughout many posts, but never actually wrote a rant about them and their members. Can you do that, while stating all the things they did/didn't do and their uselessness to the Order? What can I say I love your rants!
Caveat that it has been a while since I’ve read books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter. I have a fantastic memory but some things may slip my mind. If I grievously offend anyone and it turns out the Order does actually do something, anything, of any vague importance then feel free to let me know and shame me on the internet.
With that, the story of why I think the Order of the Phoenix is a ridiculous organization that was mostly there because Dumbledore felt the need to have a guerilla resistance group (you’ve got to have a guerilla resistance group! Or, if Tom has a secret cult, I must have one too! BUT WITH BIRDS! COO COO KACHOO TOM RIDDLE!)
First, let’s look at our lineup.
Yes, we have a few aurors in the midst, but even with them the lineup is... worrying. In the first war we knew that key figures had presumably just graduated Hogwarts and joined the Order (James and Sirius). For all we know, they were recruited even before graduation. This makes sense as James’ is a big financial win for Dumbledore and was probably, perhaps with Longbottom, in charge of funding most of their operations. That and he and Longbottom give Dumbledore a voice in the Wizengamot (which so far as I can surmise is the only real governing body in the country, the ministry exists, but it all boils down to the Wizengamot). 
The point being, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Lily are all barely squeaking out of Hogwarts not only when they join the Order but also even by the time they die. More, it could be because the books are from Harry’s point of view and he has a serious thing about worshipping James, but James in particular is made to sound very vital to the Order’s operations. A twenty-one-year-old who charged Voldemort without a wand (I really shouldn’t give James shit for this, it was a desperate situation, an attack they had not anticipated, he’s young, and panicking. I will still give James shit for this.)
Otherwise we have Mundungus Fletcher, who gives strong vibes of being an alcoholic and is just a generally unreliable, shady, dude who will steal your silverware and pawn it on the black market when you aren’t looking.
We have Molly and Arthur Weasley, whose only use I can possibly think of is being moral support and... I don’t know... providing safe houses maybe? Seriously, we have no indication they’re good at dueling (less so as Harry’s shocked when Molly takes on Bellatrix and miraculously wins). We know Arthur’s not a very intelligent guy. Arthur and Molly have no sense of... Well, suffice to say, if Dumbledore gave them any real information they’d run away screaming. They throw Percy out of the family for becoming Fudge’s secretary, I’m sure Dumbledore was just internally screaming and begging them not to do it so he can make Percy a spy. But he can never say as much as such a notion would horrify Molly and Arthur. Molly and Arthur are also presented as vital members of the Order by the way. Molly and Arthur. ARTHUR.
We have what remains of the Marauders in the second go around: Remus and Sirius. Remus, while a competent wizard, nobody can quite trust for the reason they couldn’t quite trust him last time: he’s still a werewolf and has no reason to support the current government. Sirius is recovering from ten years in hell and is in no condition to do anything, knows it, loathes it, and is clawing at the walls of the safehouse he was pretty much forced to provide the Order.
We then have the aurors. Kingsly seems competent enough but more than him we have Moody and we have Tonks. Tonks is young and seems very very green, she was a good enough duelist to get into the auror corps but we know she’s dreadfully clumsy and often seems to treat Order business as this very exciting super secret mission she’s on. Moody, is a paranoid wreck who is almost comical for his utterly ridiculous skepticism of everything and seems incapable of making any true plans or taking any real action.
Looking at the Order of the Phoenix is kind of like watching “Dodgeball”, you just have this really weird collection of people who try to dodge wrenches, only the Death Eaters aren’t much better, so it kind of evens out. 
But onto why I think they do nothing... It’s because we see them do nothing.
We don’t get much information on the first war but at best it seems like there were a few minor skirmishes in the street now and then. I always imagine something like the Sharks and the Jets in Westside Story. They’re walking along the streets, spot each other, dramatic music ensues and a rumble begins, then they scamper away when the aurors come in.
Remember that these guys aren’t a legitimate organization and really don’t have the structure of one. Back in the day they were probably, essentially, a street gang.
We get a little more evidence of what we see them get up to in the later books. And it’s all just kind of sad.
Remus is sent on the world’s most ridiculous and hopeless quest to recruit werewolves. Why do I say ridiculous and hopeless, what the hell does Remus have to offer these guys? Werewolves are ridiculously oppressed by the current government, they cannot obtain an education, they cannot hold jobs, they’re desperately unemployed and people routinely talk about wiping them out. Remus comes up to them and says, “Hey guys, come support the guerilla movement that supports the government that talks about killing you all the time! It’ll be great!” They’ll either put Remus’ head on a pike or if they’re nice just laugh at him until he leaves. I’d say it’d be worth it, except that it’s an exceedingly dangerous task that probably would end with Remus’ head on a pike. As it is, it ends in embarrassing failure. And this is one of the more legitimate Order missions.
Hagrid, similarly, is sent to talk to the giants and it ends in equally embarrassing failure for the same reasons (why would the giants ever support the ministry and or Dumbledore who promises them nothing). Also, sending Hagrid to talk diplomacy, with anyone, ever. Surely, there’s no way that could possibly go wrong.
Otherwise their big task seems to be to babysit Harry and transfer him from the Dursleys to the Burrow/Grimmuald Place. The first, they fail at, Mundungus gets put on the job the one day something actually happens and it’s a complete disaster. The second, they also fail at, as I never understood why they couldn’t just portkey him where they needed him to go or at least closer by. The polyjuice flight across the sky was... really unecessary. 
You can tell by the seriousness with which most Order members, i.e. Tonks, take the babysitting Harry duty that this is a very serious task for very serious people. Given this, Tom’s lack of overt action in the fifth and sixth books, the fact that we don’t seem to see them do anything even in the seventh book... Yeah, this and keeping an eye out for that prophecy are their most exciting jobs.
Remember that rescuing Harry from the Department of Mysteries wasn’t really Dumbledore’s idea. That was an emergency situation where he had to pull out the stops, more, I suspect Sirius went “CHAAAAAARGE” and gleefully rushed out into glorious battle with the Order directly behind him and Dumbledore going, “Well, shit.”
I guess the last thing I’ll say is that we also see that Dumbledore has very little confidence in the Order. He gives them nothing important to do and, more, gives them virtually no intelligence.
He never tells the Order about the horcruxes (their existence or Harry, Hermione, and Ron’s super serial mission to track them down and destroy them). He never relays to them that Harry himself is a horcrux. He never reveals the suicide ploy with Snape or that he was in fact dying before that point. He never reveals Malfoy’s assassination attempts. Dumbledore doesn’t tell them jack shit.
If he relies on anyone, usually when he’s forced to, it’s Severus Snape. This I think is not only because Snape is forced in a way to be loyal thanks to the life debt to Harry as well as his own overwhelming sense of guilt but also because he’s the only really intelligent and competent one there.
The Order’s just... if you need someone to pick up Harry or else keep an eye on him when Mrs. Figg is busy: they’re your guys. Otherwise, they make Dumbledore feel good about himself?
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obeiii-mee · 4 years
Note
Hey! Sorry to bother you with a second ask but i thought this one would be cool. Fluffy headcanons of the demon brothers watching scary movies with MC??? Somewhere MC gets scared, and some where they don't? Thanks again!! :)
It’s no bother!! I love getting requests from you guys! The more, the merrier. I sort of hc that the brothers and MC do have movie night every week or so and with them being demons, they tend to levitate towards the horror genre. Thank you for sending this, this is really cute :)))
Without further ado—-
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The Brothers watching Scary movies with MC:
Lucifer:
-Haha mf already knows how this is going to end
-He warned you, he really did
-The horror movies DevilDom has to offer are nothing, and I mean nothing, like the ones from the human world
-I’m not going to go into detail but imagine Two Girls One Cup, in a less kinky and more gorey way (then times that by 10)
-But you were adamant into giving it a go and he literally could not deny you in that moment
-Because you were giving him the puppy eyes
-That’s like, the finishing blow you use every time to get your way with him and as far as you know it’s the only one that works so-
-He expected your reaction to the last second
-You were traumatised for lack of a better word and you were basically watching the whole film through the cracks between your fingers
-Seeing you in that state was like a punch in the gut but he couldn’t stop himself from throwing in a subtle ‘I told you so’
-“I told you watching something like this before bed is a bad idea, MC.”
-He might be a bit condescending and judgemental at first, but he’s probably going to baby you a bit for the rest of the night
-Because he feels bad he allowed you to watch it in the first place
-HAHAHAHA SOFT LUCIFER HAS BEEN SUMMONED, USE HIM WISELY
-He will start muttering words of comfort to you later because he’s certain you’re going to have trouble sleeping
-Because of that one time, he’s very hesitant to let you watch another horror film anytime soon
-But he will relent eventually (especially if you want to watch a human horror film as those are technically less extreme)
-If it makes you happy, he will go through with it, even if he has to let you cling onto him for the rest of the day
-Besides, the way you cuddle into him while you’re watching a horror film is very cute and endearing to him
Mammon:
-Ah yes, the most effective method of waking up the entire House of Lamentation at 3:00 am
-Mammon screaming his own vocal cords out in his room as he tries to get through his human’s favourite horror movie without dying of a heart attack
-It was his idea because he’s definitely the type to go: “Yeah let’s do this, it will be fun. Don’t get too scared alright MC? The Great Mammon will be here to protect ya.”
-And then ten minutes in, he’s basically in your lap
-Half an hour in, he turned himself into a demon burrito with his blankets
-You were enjoying the movie, laughing at the stupid sound effects and poor quality while Mammon next to you has wrapped himself in like two dozen blankets and pillows
-“Mammon you’re going to overheat.”
-“Don’t be silly human, I’m a demon who lives in hell. I can take high temperatures the same way I can take this damn movie!”
-He doesn’t take either of them well
-Mammon and the horror genre don’t mix well together to begin with
-So even if you might enjoy horror, he doesn’t react well to it at all
-And he’ll be low-key relieved if you tell him you guys don’t have to watch any sort of horror film for your date night
-“Well I guess if you don’t want to, then we don’t have to. Can’t make my human do something they’re uncomfortable with eh?”
-But if you do watch a scary movie with him, be sure to show any sort of physical affection to him as often as possible
-You don’t have to say anything, just hold his hand or let him put his head in your lap or something
-It might stop him from screeching like a female sloth in heat
-The last time that happened, his brothers weren’t too pleased with him
-They about to recreate the horror film scenes onto him, bring the popcorn have fun
Levi:
-For some reason, I feel like he doesn’t get scared easily while watching stuff
-I mean, after decades of obsessively watching animes with brutal character deaths (like Attack on Titan style) and grotesque horror games that are pretty nasty even to demons, let alone humans;
-A horror film, from the human world or even DevilDom, doesn’t do much for him
-It will have to have very good psychological horror in it if you want the hairs on his arms to stand up in anticipation
-Tension is a big deal for him and he will immediately shut off the TV if there are any cheap jump scares
-But, if you manage to find just the right thing for him?
-You’ll both be hiding under the bed in no time under the bathtub more like
-Hell, if the film you’re watching is that good, he might even be holding onto you for dear life without realising it and getting flustered about it
-For weeks afterwards, any sound that is remotely similar to one from that movie will probably send both of you into panic
-You came to his room one night because you’ve had a nightmare about the stupid film and legitimately thought there was a fucking demon serial killer in your room
-So you wanted to stay in his
-“But what if there is a serial killer in your room and now you just led it to me MC????”
-It’s all jokes, there’s no question he would lock both of you in his room and then stay there with you wide awake until dawn
-You’re his best friend after all, he would have to be completely heartless to leave you on your own! (Besides Levi is terrifying when he wants to be)
-One time you were sleeping over and the sound of fumbling woke you tf up
-And Levi immediately turned into his demon form, like he was ready to throw hands with this fictional murderer that supposedly sneaked into his room
-“DON’T WORRY MC, I’LL PROTECT YOU!”
-“Ah never mind, it’s just Mammon breaking into your room again to steal your Ruri-Cham figurines and sell them on Akuzon.”
-“Oh OK.”
-“.....”
-“WAIT MAMMON WTF YOU FUCKING SCUMBAG, GET OUT OF MY ROOM-“
-I’m playing Minecraft
Satan:
-Believe it or not, Satan doesn’t care much about horror movies
-Don’t get me wrong, he loves watching his brothers shit their pants out of fear in the middle of one while he silently smirks to himself because watching other people suffer brings him euphoria
-Especially if someone actually manages to find a film that is excellent enough to spook Lucifer, because then he will be cackLING
-But, overall, he watches a lot of shows revolved around drama and crime
-That’s his thing
-However, he won’t turn you down if you’re up to watching a scary movie with him
-Any time spent with you is valuable time seeing as it won’t be long before his brothers start hogging you again like the cockblockers they are
-He is honestly surprised to find out you seem to be rather amused by those sort of movies
-So, even if it’s not inherently something he does on the regular, he would definitely watch a scary film with you if you enjoy them that much
-But in exchange, he makes you promise to read with him until bedtime rolls around (imagine Lucifer having a fucking curfew for his brothers and you lmao)
-So for the rest of night you guys just read together, ya know, like sappy romantics
-Tbh, this man will do almost anything with you as long as both of you are having fun
-He knows it’s not likely, but he insists on sleeping in the same room that night just in case you have nightmares and he needs to comfort you
- :)
-Satan is a gentleman. Idk how many people that don’t play OM expected to hear this
Asmo:
-Why would you want to watch a movie when you could be watching him???
-I mean, you would rather watch all that gory stuff on the TV than his beautiful face?
-He may get salty over a fucking movie tbh
-Horror films aren’t something he generally looks for while trying to pick a movie to watch
-He can definitely handle them better than Mammon but it’s not something he takes great pleasure in watching
-But the first time he ever sits down with you to watch one, he’s very intrigued to see your reactions
-You started feeling the sensation of absolute dread creep in at the very beginning and you were trying your best to act like you weren’t getting affected by what you saw on the screen
-But you were
-You went from “I’m grown ass adult, I can watch a fucking horror movie, no problem.”
-To “Welp, not enough of a grown ass adult for this-“
-And Asmo thought the way you tried to hide your nervousness was very mesmerising in a way
-He was planning on flirting with you during the movie anyway, but now that you were pressing himself against him?
-Oh boy, Oh boy
-“Darling if you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just said so. Making the excuse of watching a movie is unnecessary.”
-Nightmares? What nightmares? You won’t have time to have nightmares ;)
-haHAHA funny inappropriate joke
-It’s Asmo, it’s mandatory to have at least one of those added in here
Beel:
-Beel will show up if there’s food and that’s that
-He doesn’t care what type of movie is playing on the TV as long as he has a bucket of popcorn next to him at all times
-Horror films aren’t something he can’t handle, he’s a demon like the rest of his brothers and he is used to...violent deaths and such
-He doesn’t get scared but there are times where he gets attached to the characters
-Especially movies with actual good and not cringeworthy dialogue
-Therefore, when they die, he gets sad even if they’re just fictional and their death had no real impact
-He also thinks that the way you can watch these things without flinching is impressive
-I mean, he can watch it and so can his brothers because they are demons
-They’ve done worse things than the things you see in horror films
-But you’re a human! So it’s weird to see you watch a person get repeatedly slammed against a wall until their neck snaps without batting an eyelid
-Overall, he does not have an opinion on scary movies
-He gets a bit emotional when a character he really liked dies
-But other than that, he’s just focused on eating
-And occasionally patting your head affectionately
Belphie:
-He doesn’t really like horror films because there’s a lot of screaming and tense music and he’s just trying to nap in your lap (rhyme)
-He doesn’t really need sound effects like that in the background while he’s trying to sleep
-But one day he was like “Hey, what if I show my favourite human this particular scary film?”
-And he did
-And he’s internally dying and feeling guilty and yet so flustered because of you
-It’s like you suddenly turn into this very fidgety and anxious mess and he thinks you just look....cute
-At some point you were getting overwhelmed and sprung up on your feet to turn the lights on
-And he just grabbbed your wrists, pulled you down next to him and let you press your head against his chest
-As mentioned, he’s a little shit and will tease you for being such a scaredy cat
-“That was the most predictable jumpscare and you still flinched, wth is wrong with you lmao.”
-But at the same time....
-“Relax. It’s just a horror movie. You’ll be fine. Besides, I’m here. Like I would let something bad happen to you.”
-That’s sweet, even if the tone of voice may not imply it because he’s such a brat-
-He actually really likes holding you for once, because usually he’s the little spoon
-He’s still a bit of a sadist so I imagine him sitting there and watching this while giggling to himself
-Isn’t he the cutest, laughing at other people’s misery and their never ending suffering?🥺🥺🥺 UwU
-Ah well, at least he has the decency to spoil with affection afterwards and make sure you have no nightmares that night
-You know, as payback for the horrific shit he made you watch with no warning
————————————
OK, I think I made a decent job of this even though it took longer than it actually was meant to. Thank you for reading though. I’ve got so many requests to go through and I’ve been feeling motivated lately so yeah!
See you soon
Al~
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dreamties · 4 years
Text
Slashers x S/O W/ Red Angel Wings
A/n- Y’know, when I first got this request I thought it was awfully specific, but after watching Carrie it’s making a lot more sense lol 
Decided to add a few other characters just for the heck of it! :)
Let’s just ignore the fact that wings probably don’t work like this,, at all. 
Characters: Carrie White, Billy/Stu, Norman Bates, Michael Myers, and The Lost Boys.
T/W: None that I know of- just let me know if you’d like me to add any! :)
Carrie White
You know Carrie from around school. About her overtly Christian mother, and how shy and secluded she was. And how strange and weird other people saw her. You never bought into that schoolwide belief- you just thought no one took the time to get to know her. 
(part of you related to that- though most people would have thought you were cool to start out with...and then have less than kind reactions when they saw what you were hiding)
You’d interacted with Carrie only a handful of times throughout your high school career- mostly in group projects, or letting her know she had dropped something, or simply trying to spark conversation. She had always been very nervous around you though- almost more so than others. (You’d later come to find out it was because she liked you)
It’s the first time you see each other alone- outside of class. It’s after class and Carrie’s been held behind- by one of her teachers asking her about this and that. While you’re hanging out at the back of the school, there’s no sports that day, so you don’t have to worry about any onlookers. Except Carrie, who decides to head out the back way. Thinking there would be less people she’d run into- less of a hassle.
And she doesn’t know what to do. 
The way you're framed in the light, you look like you're glowing. You look unreal, and so holy and beautiful. You’re so beautiful. but then she spots your wings. They're fitted tightly on your back, flitting open, and spreading out so beautifully- you're standing centered as they flare out. And she's shocked and unsure.
 Oh, she'd be mighty frightened.
 She's shaking and crying, and she's got her mama's voice running through her head. This is what happens when you don't follow the rules exactly. When you come into this world so impure.
And oh, your wings! She let's out a gasp, eyes widening. They're colored crimson- the Devil's color. And she's sure you've come down from the Heavens or- or come from down below...come to mock her. To punish her
She knows you know what she's done. What unknowing sins she's committed. [ my poor girl hasn’t actually done anything though :( ]
 And you look at her, confused. Then your eyes soften, and your wings slowly close behind you. You gently smile, “I’m not here to harm you, Carrie.”  
She begins to calm at the soft sound of your voice, and your pleasant aura. She’s still shaky all over, and part her says to run and hide- but you have your arms out wide, offering her to join you. And she gulps down nervously- maybe this was her accepting her fate. She slowly walks over to you, allowing you to wrap her into a hug. It’s feels so good to have your arms wrapped around her- she feels overwhelmed by the amount of positive emotions sprouting from your actions. You let her stay there, crying in your arms. “It’s okay, Carrie.”
After she gets passed the initial meeting, and the two of you start dating- which takes a lot of time for her to get used to you. Not because she doesn’t think you seem like a good person, but she’s skeptical, given how people have treated her in the past- plus she’s still dealing with the after effects from all the religious abuse with her mother :( 
She starts associating you (and your wings) as almost...protection!
Her favorite thing is to have your wings wrapped around her as she sleeps. She feels safe in them.
Billy Loomis + Stu Macher
Y’all meet at a Halloween party.
It’s Billy & Stu’s favorite holiday, and they always go all out for it! With the costumes, the decorations, etc- maybe even a bit of hidden bloody fun for just the two of them.
You’ve always kept your wings well hidden- folded against your back, underneath big coats. But tonight? Ohh, tonight! You’re able to have them out, allowing them a good stretch. When people ask, you can pass it off as just crazy good mechanisms.
And well, the boys see your “costume”, and they get wicked excited about it! They’ve never seen someone with a costume like this before- it’s so realistic! And the fact you chose blood red, over the standard angelic white? Very impressed by your talent and ideas.
They start asking all these questions about it, cause it’s like, legitimately one of the coolest costume they’ve ever seen. How can you not think giant wings- that move- aren’t cool?? 
But then like Stu excitedly asks if it would be okay to touch it- and you get oddly quiet after that one. “Well, they’re fragile, y’know?”
Stu pouts, “I can be careful.”
You give him a skeptical look, “I mean- just be careful, like you said.”
“Woah, they feel so real!” Oh, if he only knew. “Billy, ya gotta check this out!” He says, nearly shouting, as he nudges his shorter friend.
Billy rolls his eyes, but gives you a look to see if it’s alright. You simply nod, smiling at him- feeling more at ease. As Billy’s admiring them, and finally leans in to touch them- another guest at the party harshly bumps into you. The force of it accidentally knocking their drink out of their hands, drenching your shirt. 
“Aw shit,” you mumble to yourself. “I’m sorry, I’ll have to leave for the night.”
Stu frowns, not liking the idea of you leaving quite yet. He’d been enjoying your company quite a lot, and he’s certain that Billy did too (even if it didn’t seem like it). “You can borrow one of my shirts,” he all but blurts out.
You can’t help but laugh at his offer, “Are you sure?” Stu eagerly nods.
 You’re in Stu’s bedroom changing, and you’re about to slip on his sweater, when the door is knocked open (not on purpose, of course). “Dude!”
They quickly apologize, but then take notice of your wings- exposed as what they truly were. They stare in awe and bewilderment. You’re still freaked out, and yet still try joking your way out of the situation. “Just, really good prosthetics?” 
It takes a bit of explanation on your part, but the boys accept you for what you are pretty quickly. As strange as this all might be. Stu will have a lot of questions for you, and Billy’s somewhat unsure of it for a while. 
Established Relationship Fun:
Okay, okay!! Soft idea!! When cuddling, sometimes you’ll wrap your giant wings around the three of you. so warm and cuddly.
when watching horror movies together, Billy’s always intensely focused on the screen(almost scarily so- but then again this is one of the faces behind Ghostface we’re talking about so...not too surprising), to the blood and carnage. But he always finds his hand idly playing with your feathers, even if you have them closed behind you. He’d never admit it, but he finds them comforting and extremely calming. He can just forget about all his little problems, and just stroke your feathers (plus, you enjoy it when he does that!! And he likes that it makes you feel good!!)
Norman Bates 
You’d be really nervous at first to tell him, because early on in your friendship/relationship, he introduced you to his hobby- taxidermy. And it kind of scared you seeing your feathered friends in such a state. But...Norman would never harm you. 
(Now...his mother on the other hand? Would be more than willing to discard this freak of nature)
(Norman won’t let that happen to you though- he promises) 
Norman is such an absolute darling. He couldn’t judge a single soul for who or what they are- and yes, that does go for your winged-body, too.
He’d be extremely surprised and intrigued though- he’d be all blushy and happy though that you felt safe enough to tell him!
He finds your wings just absolutely gorgeous though.
He’ll often get sorta shy about handling your wings at all. But he’s very careful with them.
And if you get hurt, he’ll be more than glad to help you patch up (while also being upset you got hurt :( ) - since you can’t really,, go to hospitals at all. Who knows what the general public would do if they found out something like you existed.
On that note- Norman will always be there to help cheer you up when you feel bad about having them. Like, it’s gotta be strange being the only being with wings surrounded by humans- and only humans. Norman’s very good at cheering you up though! He’s very soft and sweet about it. One of the few times he’ll touch your wings. He treats them delicately, as if they’ll break upon his touch if he’s not careful enough. Presses gentle kisses to them, and reminding you how much he loves you.
Michael Myers
You meet Michael during one of his hunts.
You never bring out your wings, unless you absolutely have to.
He’s surprised and a bit confused when he sees you, standing in the streets, giant red wings splayed out. The street lights reflecting your wings into pools of red on the ground. He watches intently, as you push yourself into the air with a loud whoosh. He nearly startles.
But besides this initial reaction, he’s fairly indifferent.
Michael knows no human should have wings like that, or even wings at all. And part of him is curious to know more, so the next time he sees you, he doesn’t try to attack you.
The Fun Stuff??
Michael would definitely be a little rougher with your wings than some of the other slashers. 
Mostly because a part of him recognizes you’re not entirely human, so he equates that to you’ll be able to handle more.
He’s still pretty careful though- because he would never want to hurt his S/O.
Michael enjoys killing alone, and he sure doesn’t need protection- but sometimes, when you convince Michael to bring you along, he finds he doesn’t actually mind your presence there. He kind of enjoys it. And, again, he doesn’t need your protection- but you can’t help to be worried about him, okay? You’ll use your wings as a shield when his victims try fighting back. If you get hurt a bit? Then I guess Michael will just have to help you patch up afterwards.
The Lost Boys
Aww, they are so hyped about it!
Most of the other creatures they interact with are human, so it’s so cool to them when they find out you’re a fellow supernatural being! They’re not,,, entirely sure what you are (neither are you, tbh), but that’s okay.
They get to fly around with you, which they wouldn’t be able to do with you if their S/O was a human or some flightless supernatural being.
Paul would love playing with your wings!
I mean, they all do to some extent. But Paul will play with them whenever. Even if you’re out in public. Like,, if anyone sees your wings they have ways of dealing with that, y’know?
Y’all sleep in the same bed together- kind of just like,, a constant cuddle pile lol. And you don’t always do this, but when the boys are feeling especially in the mood for it (like,, maybe they’ve had a long night, or they just really need to be as close to you as they can)  and you’ll just outstretch your wings, covering the four of them. The soft, familiarity of your feathers calming even the rowdiest of the bunch
They accidentally stay out too late, and you’ll use your wings to help shade them from the sun, as you make your way back to the cave.
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sweetestlamb · 3 years
Text
Mostrami Amore.
Summary: Cha-young tries to move on from a certain mafia boss. 
Author’s Note: Thank for to everyone who sent in prompts for Chayenzo, it resulted in this mess. I don’t have much to say, I considered making this into a multi- chaptered story but honestly I don’t have time for another ongoing story so if this seems rushed it was a little, I wrote it in one go today. Hope you enjoy this, I stuck in some of my favorite crack ship because I am weak and obsessed. Happy reading! 
p.s takes place after final episode but han seo lives because this is my world and I get to play God. 
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Another postcard.
Their delivery becomes sporadic and she’s embarrassed at the giddiness that washes over her each time a new square is sent miles across a wide stretch of ocean, the view on the card most likely lackluster in comparison to the true rendering of Malta. She has spent many hours on her laptop searching for images of the small paradisiac island, yearning to see what he sees and feel just a tad bit closer to him. Most of her life has been spent in solitude with only her work acquaintances filling the void at times, so she expected herself to be more equipped to deal with his disappearance and subsequent absence. But nothing prepares her for those moments at the coffee shop, when she finds herself smiling across a table only to realize there is no miniature espresso cup in the hand of a very dangerous Italian Korean mafia member grinning back at her. 
The smile melts off her face and she swallows the bitter cool sludge in her cup, the beverage tasting exactly as he had described it without him there. 
Nights are the hardest, loneliness coils around her like a snake. 
There was never any other fate for them, she knew that when Vincenzo murdered all their enemies this was their only real outcome. He would always be a fugitive on the run and she an accomplice if he were captured and questioned, it was in both of their best interests if he vanished from the face of the planet. But knowing that does nothing to qualm the ever present feeling of isolation that clings to her skin as she sits alone on her couch, downing makgeolli at a vicious pace. Trying to wash his taste from her mouth, that kiss on loop in her mind and the phantom grip of his hand on her neck. 
It’s those treacherous nights without the plaza members that have become a second family to her and Han Seo following her like the lost puppy he is calling her “Noona” so freely and frequently until she forgets her own name, that she allows herself to feel exactly what she’s feelings. 
Heartbroken. 
Desperate. 
Lonely. 
Rage. 
The last one she hides like a dirty secret in the closet of her heart, she knew what she was signing up for. She has no legitimate reason to be angry, or so she tries to reason with herself. But. This was the same man who had bypassed the security of one of the richest men in Korea and ultimately killed him without leaving a trace. She had watched him do despicable things, blackmailing, threatening, seducing, and murdering others as he saw fit and yet, he hadn’t used any of those dastardly ways to see her. That chance meeting at the art gallery had been the last she had seen of him, Then a few weeks later another postcard with the same message she had boldly uttered at the airport, it feels insufficient after having him in her arms again. She knew in that moment that they would never be enough again. She hadn’t even argued when Mr. Nam claimed he would leave this one on his table instead, she merely nodded and walked away to peruse the new sexual assault case she has taken recently. 
It gets harder and harder to hear Han Seo regaling the wonders of his “hyung”,  her anger boiling deep below the surface like magma waiting to explode and transform into something tangible and destructive. 
“He told me that he has a room for me too. I wonder when he’ll let us visit.” 
She nods absently, staring out the window at the sunlight twinkling in through the blinds but then his words register and the gears in her head churn before running the sentence back through to carefully process them. 
“He---what? You spoke to Vincenzo?” 
The human puppy pouts his lips before tilting his head and dealing a hard blow to her ego and her heart, “Yeah, he sends me letters. I got so scared the first time! He said the letter would self-destruct after I read it and I really thought that was true and I dived across the room to escape but I bumped my head on the table and then...” 
He sent Han Seo letters.  
She had received the same fucking postcard for months on end with the same message she had said to him, and he had time to write Han Seo letters. He hadn’t sent her even one in the time he had been gone. 
“That fucking bastard!”  She explodes interrupting Han Seo’s recount of his near death experience and he looks wide- eyed and taken back by her outburst, she almost soothes him before another wave of anger rushes through her veins. She had accepted the bare minimum because she thought this was all he could give her but it seemed she was being too naïve. He was Vincenzo Cassano after all, he could make anything happen. She had seen it with her own two eyes. If he wasn’t reaching out to her maybe that was a message and she was too blind to see it. 
“Noona? Are you okay?” Han Seo looks absolutely terrified, eyes huge and quivering. She doesn’t bother answering, grabbing her cup of lukewarm coffee and stomping out of the office ignoring Mr. Nam’s calls behind her. She’s tired of being an idiot. 
She throws herself into forgetting him, the same way he seems to have forgotten her despite his words to her that fateful night on the stairs. 
I thought about you everyday. 
Actions speak louder than words and she is done accepting his crumbs. She has never needed anyone, had even accepted when her own father wanted nothing to do with her; she has basically been prepping for this moment her entire life. 
So she goes shopping with Miri, buying gadgets that she has no idea how to use but that the other girl makes sound like things that she definitely needs such as a new home security system, her break in still fresh in her mind. She grins at the pretty smile on the other girl’s round face as she explains the specification of the machines around them and she can see why Han Seo has such a huge crush on the girl, the pretty blush that blossoms on the other girl’s cheek after stating the fact out loud is adorable and she pinches said cheek much to her chagrin. 
“You should worry about your own love life.” Miri teases but the words sting like acid on her skin and she turns away to hide the grimace on her face, but she’s not fast enough and the other girl catches her wrist halting her movement. 
“What? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Mr. Cassano?” Miri whispers the last part, looking around to make sure that nobody overhears them. 
She forces herself to stifle her emotions, trapping them in the back of her mind refusing to let him have this kind of affect on her. 
“I wouldn’t know.” She tries for a emotionless tone but even she can hear the bitterness in her own voice and Miri’s eyes fill with pity and it makes her sick to her stomach, “Don’t. I am going to be fine. Let’s just go.” 
They don’t utter single word in the car ride home. 
After that it becomes painfully obvious that everyone in the plaza thinks something is wrong with her and are teaming up to make her feel better. It’s the packed lunches that keep showing up on her desk without fail, her clothes being steamed and pressed for free, the way that they won’t allow her to be alone and there are countless spontaneous family game nights all ending with her drunk and being carried home. 
Tonight Mr. Tak is the unlucky volunteer, dragging her limp body in her father’s house and she thinks of all the times that they drank here together and a certain person was the one hauling her body to bed complaining and grumbling but that distractingly fond smile on his face that he only ever seemed to shoot her way. Her heart thumped loudly as he loomed over her and leaned in close, getting her hopes up only to brush her hair behind her ears and softly tell her, “Go to sleep now,” and she had never been obedient all her teachers could testify to that but when he looked at her like that she was powerless to do anything else but listen. 
“I miss him.” The traitorous words fall from her lips and vanish into the inky darkness of the night. 
A deep sigh from the left of her, “We know.” 
She feels vulnerable, the worst thing about having a weakness is other’s noticing too. She hates how weak she feels. 
“I am going to forget him.” 
The body supporting most of her weight tenses under her arm and she waits for his response, they all love Vincenzo- he had become their unexpected hero and leader in many ways. They would always take his side, she knows that. 
“If that’s what you need to do to be happy. Then, do it. Loving a man like Vincenzo isn’t easy.” 
She turns to look at him in genuine shock. 
“What? You thought I would tell you to keep waiting with no end in sight? You should know by now, you mean a lot to us too. Your happiness is important to us too, we’re a family.” 
“But we’re the Cassano family,” she challenges unable to accept that they could love her without Vincenzo attached, but Mr. Tak shrugs at the clarification, “We can be the Hong Family too.”
She feels her eyes swimming. 
“I should go inside.” 
She feels sober and more awake than ever, she stays up all night twirling the long strands of her hair in between her fingers. 
Thinking. 
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Variety is the spice of life. 
She doesn’t know where she’s heard that but it’s those sage words that are the catalyst for her spontaneous decision. 
“Same as always? Silky with some body?” Her stylist peers into her eyes through the wide mirror and she hears herself say, “No I want a cut and some color.” Yu-jin raises one pretty tweezed brow but nods after a moment’s pause, “Okay. How short are you thinking?” 
And that’s how she starts her day with long thick hair that grazes her lower back and ends it with a short bob that tickles her neck. It feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulder, metaphorically and literally and she loves the face that she sees in the mirror, her eyes looking brighter than they have in months. She feels more alive, like a snake shedding its skin and becoming a newer and fresher version of itself. 
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“Your hair?” That becomes the running theme for her day, shocked gaping mouths and hands reaching out for the hair that was once there.  She merely smirks at their palpable surprise, especially Seol-jin who doesn’t recognize her from behind. 
“I haven’t seen a pretty lady like you aro--Oh Ms. Hong! I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you, I am so sorry please excuse me!” The interpretative dancer bolts away leaving her to watch him bemused, she skips to Jipuragi with a pep in her step laughing loudly when Mr. Nam drops his coffee upon seeing her and the brown liquid goes flying and douses him in a sticky hot mess. 
It’s an entertaining day to say the least. 
Moments later when he’s finished cleaning himself up and changing into the cheetah print track suit that he insisted to keeping in the office, he mentions that a new postcard has arrived. She nods at the information, looking at her laptop and it’s only seconds later that she finally looks up and sees that he’s waiting for her response. She doesn’t have one. 
Forcing a tight smile on her face she replies, “Oh that’s great. Just put it with the others.” 
He does. 
But she can feel his eyes on her, his concern heavy and tangible in the air. 
She pretends not to notice and keeps clicking away on her laptop, only glancing over at the card once or twice. But it’s only out of habit. 
Nothing more. 
She starts going on dates with random men. Men she meets in coffee shops, on the streets, in bars, hell one time even the bookstore. She never meets the same man twice and they never get what they want but it does make her feel desirable and that’s all she’s looking for. 
“Where are you going?” Han Seo asks her curiously, Miri by his side as she struts out the plaza new perfume on her skin. 
“On a date. I’ll see you both later.” They both gape at her and can only watch with wide eyes as she sashays away, heels clicking with every step. 
Word spreads like wildfire and no one takes it harder than Mr. An, who calls her a “jezebel” and cries at the front of the law firm for hours, she has to step over him to go get lunch shaking him off when he latches on to her ankles. 
The others just look at her with sad eyes, filled with both understanding and disappointment. 
Much to her surprise the lunch boxes keep coming and her clothes are still pressed and starched to perfection though. 
She also starts taking self defense classes, Korea is much more dangerous than she had first suspected and she has to be able to protect herself because nobody is coming to save her.  Not anymore. 
It becomes a great outlet for her built up anger and her instructor praises her for being a fast learner. She grins and nods before flipping him and twisting his arm around his own neck in a modified sleeper hold. When he taps on her arm she squeezes tighter instead of letting go and he goes limp for a moment before she comes back to herself and releases him hastily with a quick apology, “Sorry!”
He rubs his neck, panting for air and she feels guilty, there's a tinge of that but most of all she feels powerful, more so than she has for a long time. 
It’s crazy but she finds herself asking him for drinks after class and even crazier is that he agrees even with her marks still there on his skin, the area bruised and red. He looks at her like she’s challenge that he wants to conquer, she lets him believe that’s possible. It’s only a bit of fun anyway, she has no plans for anything serious. 
Drinks turn into a drunken cab ride home with his hand on her thigh, hot through the thin material of her tights and they don’t feel right- too small and not rough enough but she’s moving on and she has no time to reminisce. 
There hasn’t even been a postcard lately. Message, loud and clear. 
When she shoves the keys into her door, he’s glued to her body leaving wet kisses on the long column of her neck and she tries to suppress the nausea that swims in her stomach, everything feels wrong and she hates herself for feeling that way. Why shouldn’t she fuck whoever she wants? He is probably doing the same thing, everyday on his beautiful private island. Kissing women that aren’t her and whispering dirty Italian words into their ears as he rocks back and forth, nary a thought of that Korean woman he knew once upon a time. 
Fuck him. 
She rocks back into the purposeful grind of the hips behind her, feeling the hardness that digs into the soft flesh of her ass and finally the door opens and they both tumble in haphazardly and he thrusts a hand under her loose shirt fingering at her breasts before a dark figure moves far too quickly in her peripheral and she hears her date cry out in pain. 
She almost faints at the familiar sight of the one person she never expected to see, the hard glint of his cold eyes as he twists the same hand that had just been fondling her chest. The grip looks painful, the wrist contorted in an unnatural manner. 
“What the fuck? You have a boyfriend?!” Her instructor cries out, voice high pitched falling to his knees as Vincenzo kicks his feet out from under him. 
She rolls her eyes, of course he would come now when she is trying (and failing) to get over him. 
Vindictively she answers the question, ‘No.” 
But that makes Vincenzo twist the wrist in his grip even tighter and she can see the bones breaking so she takes pity on the poor man, he didn’t sign up for a murderous mafia leader after all. 
“Just let him go. You have no right to do any of this.” 
He doesn’t listen right away and absently she wonders if she’ll need to test out her new moves on him, it would be satisfying to deck him square in the face. She dreams of that as often as she dreams of their reunion. Her feelings are...complicated to say the least. 
Then with a grunt, he throws the other man away like he’s trash and growls out, “Get out of here before I kill you.” 
She tries not be get turned on by that. But it’s a hard sell, her body already getting revved up. He’s telling the truth. 
The man wastes no time, jumping to his feet and bolting out the door without one backwards glance. Asshole, he was really just leaving her with a clearly unstable and dangerous man. 
“We need to talk.” Vincenzo squeezes out between clenched teeth, and her blood runs cold but she stares him dead in the eyes tired of this game they’ve been playing, if he’s here to end things she wants to know. 
“Okay. Then talk.” 
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She looks insanely beautiful, with her hair cropped so short bringing his eyes to the tantalizing length of her neck. His eyes close in on a spot of moisture on her neck, he feels his blood boiling imagining that bastard touching any part of her.  She’s glaring right back at him, her chest rising and falling and he can’t help but check her out, it’s been months since he saw her in person the photo of her doing aerial yoga above his bed couldn’t compare to the tempest that is Cha-young in real life. 
The flat plane of her belly is on display under the white crop top loosely stretched across her chest which leads down to her slim hips and legs wrapped in white spandex, leaving very little to the imagination not that he hasn’t imagined her in far less many, many times. Too many times to count. Spilling across the silk adorning his king sized bed with only her name on his lips. 
She looks fucking hot. 
That makes it even more frustrating because he can still clearly see that bastard wrapped around her like a snake and his hands going up her shirt---he has to take a deep breath before he breaks something. Or chases that asshole to break his face. 
There’s so much he wants to say to her, so much he owes her. 
I missed you. 
I love you. 
Come with me. 
“Who the hell was that?” He says this instead then watches her eyes glint over into nothing but pure murderous rage. Wrong move. But he couldn’t help it, green eyed raged taking away his decision making abilities. 
“That’s all you have to say? Get out.” 
He wasn’t expecting rose petals and trumpets when he returned but he definitely wasn’t expecting this, her cold glare or another man in his spot. He thought she would wait for him, just as he had done for her. 
“Are you serious right now?” He counters, flabbergasted. 
“Deadly. Get out.” 
He clenches his fist, and then stomps out. Turning back but only to watch the door slam in his face. 
What the hell. 
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It had only taken a letter from Han Seo to get him on boat that would take him to an open field and hours later he was soaring through the skies on a hot air balloon, on his way back to Korea. It was insane and he barely had time to explain to his family but Luca nodded at him like this was the only choice and told him that he would take care of everything, and he trusted those words more than he had ever trusted anything in his life.
“Vai a prendere la tua donna( go get your woman).” 
He had nodded, gruffly patting the other man on his shoulder before hopping over into the waiting boat. 
But he wasn’t so certain anymore that Cha-young was his. 
She seems different. Colder almost, she leaves whenever I mention your name and she goes on dates now. I think she’s moving on hyung, what are you going to do? 
Those words had been the scariest thing he had never seen. Scarier than every gun that had ever been pointed at his head. He thought what they had was something special, something that could stand the test of time and distance. He stared at the huge pile of letters on his bedside, all addressed to her. He had written one everyday since they had been separated, but each time he was too much of a coward to send it. In those letters he could say things that he could never say to her face, things like how much he ached without her by his side and how her smile was the only thing that kept him going. In those letters he could regal the ways he loved her, and how deeply she had been branded into his soul, every atom of his body belonged to her and her alone.  He would kill for her, die for her, anything she needed or merely wanted he would provide it, all she needed to do was ask. 
He could only share those feelings in the letters. 
He walks for hours, until he ends up at his old apartment the familiar door greeting him and he sticks his hand in his pocket before he remembers that he gave the key away, with a sigh he starts to walk away before the door creaks open and he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in months. 
“Hyung!” 
A warmth spreads across his back as a solid weight almost knocks him off his feet. He reaches one arm around his body, awkwardly slapping the face that is pressing into his collar. 
“You really chose to stay here.” 
He feels the nod on his shoulder, “Of course. It made me feel closer to you hyung, I missed you.” 
He grunts in response, before turning around and tugging the younger man into a real hug. He had missed the annoying little leech too, he had missed everyone. 
They are still in each other’s embrace for a moment before Han Seo pulls away, sympathy etched deep on his face. 
“She wasn’t happy to see you.” 
“There was someone else there.” He hates the words even as they leave his mouth and Han Seo winces, looking pained for him before tugging him into the small apartment. Everything is just like he left it.  He looks around in awe. 
“I’m sorry hyung. What are you going to do?”
That’s the golden question, he pondered it all the way here and he’s no closer to knowing the answer to that. Usually she is the one that makes the move, she has always been the brave one between them. He back steps and says things he doesn’t mean and she sees through him and smashes down all his walls. That’s how this has always worked. 
“I don’t know. Maybe I should just leave her alone. Let her be happy.” 
A loud scoff reaches his ears, “Sure. Is that why you sailed across sharked infested waters and trusted a hot air balloon company run my former thugs?”
He smarts at the sarcastic reply and glares before flicking the cheeky brat on his nose, "I liked you better when you were stupid you know. Now you're a little smart ass."
The younger man looks even more youthful as he grins back at him, rubbing at his nose before shrugging.  "I learned from the best."
He has no rebuttal for that so he tries to flick him again, giving chase when he darts off.
It feels good to be home.
He warns Han Seo not to tell anyone that he's here least they give away his location.
So he's not surprised the next day to find the cavalry at his doorstep hands filled to the brim with containers of food. There are tears, mostly from Mr. Nam who won't stop screaming his name and pinching his cheeks to see if he's real and Mr. An who wraps around him like a koala despite his very detailed threats. It's all chaos and so familiar that his heart aches but her absence is like a hole in his chest. Nobody mentions her but they all keep looking at the door, so it's obvious that she was invited but chose not to come.
Because she didn't want to see him.
"You're here to win her back right?" He doesn't know who even utters the words but when he glances up they are all looking at him expectantly.
He didn't know that was what he was indeed here for thought that she would happily welcome him back and they could pick up where they left off but she's made it clear that this won't be the case. This will be the most important fight of his life.
"Yes. I'm here for Cha-young."
He gets enthusiastic thumbs up and a loud giggle from the Yeon-Jin  and Cheol-Wook’s adorable baby, her little hands too uncoordinated to do a thumbs up but she waves excitedly  feeding off the energy around her.
He wonders how Cha-young would look with a baby in her arms, their baby it's a dangerous thought. But one that he can't get out of his mind once he thinks it.
They stay until midnight, forcing him to eat and drink too much soju until he passes out to dreams filled with a round Cha-young, belly swollen and protruding from her body. 
It doesn't take much to learn her schedule(Mr. Nam hands him a laminated copy) and he has to put on a disguise but he enters the shop seconds after her, hearing her order that god awful sewer water she's so fond of.
"An espresso for me." He leans in too close, almost brushing her shoulder and she jolts at the sound of his voice, turning to stare at him as if she's a mirage.
"You're still here?" She whispers and then shakes her head and looks away as if she's hadn't meant to say the words aloud.
It hurts him that she thought he would leave without telling her but he can't blame her, he has been anything but consistent. Instead of answering, he leans forward to hand his credit card to the cashier who glances between them suspiciously before accepting the card.
Their orders are ready in seconds and he follows her as she walks to their table, butterflies in his stomach at the familiar sight.
She turns to him with a glare, "It's just the only available table."
He moves to pull out her chair and she starts at him tight lipped before sitting down. She's in a tight black suit today, two long slits on the side of her pants going all the way up to her thighs. He gulps down his drink to get rid of the drool pooling in his mouth.
"You're upset with me."
She stares at him like he's the biggest idiot on the planet, it's not a look he receives often but she's always the outlier in his otherwise organized life.
"Astute observation." She quips back, sucking loudly at her coffee.
"Why?"
He considered how to go about breeching this subject and in the end had decided on going straight to the source, he had been under the impression that this was working for them.
Her face morphs into a person he hasn't seen for a long time, the Cha-young that would berate him and make him angry enough to curse in Italian.
"Do you think this little of me?"
He's completely lost, "What do you mean? What did I do that was so wrong? Wrong enough for you to cheat on me!" He's panting now, his voice has gotten loud enough to catch people's attention he can feel them watching their table, nosy and invested.
"Cheat on you?"
Cold as ice, her voice is. It almost makes him shiver.
"How could I possibly cheat on you? We're not together. You send me the same postcard with the same message every few months. I have no idea what you're doing in Malta, who you're with. You can't even be bothered to send me a letter, do you think this is a relationship? You think it's enough to pop up like this every once in a blue moon? You've told me nothing about how you feel about me but I'm supposed to be satisfied with whatever you throw my way?"
If he wasn't sitting down his legs would have already given out he's certain about that. Her voice is deadly quiet each word landing and chipping away at his confidence.
"I'm doing the best I can! You knew it would be like this after everything was over, why are you blaming me now? How about you, I don't know how you feel either!"
"I love you! Anyone with eyes can see that, I told you that at the airport too. And again when I took a bullet for you, you didn't think that meant I loved you? I was willing to die for you."
Shit.
It's not at all how he expected them to confess their love for each other, it's hard to believe the words that are coming out of her mouth as she bares her teeth at him.
"So why are you doing this? Why are there other men?"
Why aren't I enough? He wants to say but he's scared of her answer, terrified that she'll say that she can't do this anymore. That he just isn’t enough anymore. 
She stares at him long and hard.
Waiting for something. But he doesn't know what.
"You haven't changed at all. You're still a coward, I'm not interested in guessing anymore. I’m done playing this game.” 
She stands up and walks away, leaving her unfinished coffee on the table.
Unwanted just like him.
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She doesn't see him for days and she accepts that her words had done their damage, she had cried until she fell asleep that night. Waking up with swollen red eyes that no amount of concealer would save but thankfully no one commented on her state.
She goes through her day on autopilot and before she knows it she's back home, ready to face her night alone  again. She pushes the door open, half praying he'll be waiting for her but her hopes shattered when she turns on the lights and finds no one.
"It's better this way." She lies to herself, pouring herself an obscene glass of soju. She's going to need plenty of alcohol to get through this pain.
Her head is woozy and heavy when she hears a sound, suddenly alert she stills in her chair before rushing over to get a frying pan walking on the tips of her toes she prowls closer to the clicking sound, finding herself at the window peering at a long lost friend. Placing the frying pan on her window sill she pry opens the window, screeching when the audacious bird flies inside landing on her table as if he belongs there.
"Hey Inzaghi! Get your dirty bird feet off my table!"
He looks at her nonchalantly, making himself comfortable on said table and she sighs before shutting the window and drunkenly swaying over to him.
"What are you even doing there? Do you want to be my bird now, I won't be a very good owner. I won't remember to feed you. I barely remember to feed myself."
Despite being a bird he finds a way to roll his eyes at her before standing up and only then does she notice something on his leg. She looks at him cautiously before moving closer and untying the paper on his leg, the pigeon barely reacts before flying over to her couch. She sighs in annoyance, she's going to have to clean everything after this bird leaves.
She unwinds the string holding the paper together, unrolling the paper scroll. There is a message written inside: the rooftop. 9 pm.
Glancing at her clock the time shines at her.
7:34pm.
"This could be a trap."
It very much could be, she has enemies now. It was a small price to pay for taking down Babel but she's always looking over her shoulders now, so this note could easily be someone luring her to hurt her or get back at Vincenzo.
Inzaghi coos loudly at her as if he can hear her thoughts. This time he finds a way to look exasperated.
She stumbles off to her room.
She needs time to think.
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"So she told you that she loved you and you didn't say it back?"
"I was shocked. She was growling at me and looked ready to kill me at the same time." He reasons back, trying to show his hyung his point of view. The younger man doesn't look even a little bit convinced by his logic.
"Okay and? That sounds perfectly normal for you too. You should have shot someone and wrote it back in their blood on the table."
He recoils in disgust at the suggestion, "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you actually insane, why the fuck would I do that?"
Han Seo stares deadpan in return.
He puts up a hand trying to stop whatever response he has, "Don't say it."
It doesn't work.
"Pig's blood. Don't forget I saw it all, I've never seen Ms. Hong look so excited before. You're both crazy."
Well, that had been different. It was an old tradition, she simply had an appreciation for the classics.
"And I bet you're defending her right now in your mind. Noona is just like you, that's why you're made for each other. She's the gasoline to your fire."
"You know that would just make an even larger fire right?"
"Yes. I'm smart now remember? I know what I said."
He sighs falling into the comfortable familiarity of the couch, a spring digging into his thigh.
"Why didn't you say it back?" His stills at the barely whispered question, his chest constricting as he recalls the passionate confession. He had frozen, like he'd always known she was the brave one between them. Always doing the unexpected and the time was no different, her words had knocked him off his feet.
"Because I was scared."
Han Seo huffs at his honesty. He doesn't know where the words are coming from but he's tired of keeping it all in.
"Because if anything happens to her it'll break me, I thought it would be better if I kept her at a distance. I thought this was enough. I thought this would be easier. When I think about her I want to drop everything and just be with her and that...was too dangerous. I had to keep my distance."
There's a pregnant pause, just the sound of their breathing filling the void.
"Was it?"
"What?"
"Easier. Is this better? Enough?"
He thinks about Cha-young getting married to a faceless man, exchanging vows and sealing it with a kiss, happy and in love on their honeymoon wanton moans and screams from their room, learning that they're having a baby and her round and glowing with someone else's child smiling brightly as she rubs her belly and it's too much. He wants to smash it all into little pieces.
"No. It's not enough. I need her, without her nothing is enough."
"That's what you should have said to her. Don't glare at me I'm right, but I have an idea. I saw it in an American cartoon."
And that's how he lets his younger brother convince him to send a note to Cha-young using Inzaghi, the pigeon had shown up one night and he'd been so happy he almost kissed the bird.
"How will he know where Cha Young lives?" He asks skeptical even as he ties the note to the birds leg.
"I showed him a picture of her house. According to the cartoon, birds just know.” 
He stares at the younger man, wondering why he's listening to this ridiculous plan.
"This is stupid. I should just text her, Inzaghi is never going to deliver this. He's just a regular pigeon." 
"This is more romantic." He answers matter of fact.
"How is a pigeon delivering a message in anyway romantic?" He challenges already knowing from the shit eating grin he won’t like the response. 
"The same way pig blood was." The brat counters and he doesn't get a chance to respond before Han Seo picks Inzaghi up and throws him out the window, "In the name of love!" He only barely stops himself from bashing his head into the wall, the younger man has to wrestle him to the ground.
It's stupid. They did all of this for nothing the cool breeze makes him pull his coat tighter around his body, exposed to the weather on the open space of the rooftop.
He checks his watch, 9:48.
She's not coming and the worst part is that he doesn't know if it's because that damn bird never delivered his message or if it's because she really doesn't want anything to do with him. The burden of not knowing hurts more than anything.
Expelling the air in his lungs he walks back to the single door that leads off the roof, twisting the doorknob in his hand and pulling it open.
Meeting the shocked face of one Cha-young.
They both just stare at each other before he speaks, "You came."
He can't believe it. Inzaghi had actually delivered the note, somehow the pigeon had found her house and she was here. He almost pinches himself to see if he'd passed out on the roof and this was just a dream.
"I didn't know Inzaghi was a carrier pigeon." She futilely tries to change the subject and he takes a step back, gathering the tattered pieces of his courage. The same courage that had propelled him to kiss her all those months ago on the stairs.
"I'm so happy you're here. I waited for you."
She stares at him like he has two heads before blushing, and avoiding his eyes.
"Come with me." He extends his hands and tries not to be too hurt when she bypasses it and steps around him instead.
At least she was here.
With a quick swipe of his hand he sends the message to his accomplices.
Now.
The lights come on, fairy lights decorating the roof top in a heavenly glow. She spins around in wonder, eyes nearly as bright she's so beautiful it's almost painful to look at her.
Then the music starts.
The soft notes filling the space.
When I walk down a road I don't know well....
She looks around in wonder, staring back at him she can’t believe what’s happening. 
Then the letters start falling from the sky, all the letters he had written to her alone and missing her thousands of miles away. His plaza family smiles down at him, throwing letters from a higher building.
Cha-young stares up at the sky in surprise, hundreds of letters landing all around her.
It had taken a few days for Luca to send them all over and then another day to get the guts to do this, there was no turning back now. He had never willingly made himself vulnerable to anyone else, but according to Han Seo it was the only way he was going to win her back. 
“She just wants to know that you love her too. Show her.” 
He watches anxiously as she picks up a letter, stroking lightly at her own name on the front looking at him with stunned wet eyes. 
“You wrote me a letter.” Her voice is revere and awe that he doesn’t deserve, not after everything he has put her through in the sake of protecting himself but he’s too elated to see her looking at him like that again, like he’s someone important to her. 
“182. For each day we were apart. I told you I thought about you everyday, and every time I did I wrote you a letter.” 
She stares at the letter in her hand, gently ripping it open and devouring the words on the page. Nerves shoot up and down his body as he watches her read his most private thoughts about her, her expressive face for once empty of emotions as she silently reads the letter. 
He waits. 
Breathless and terrified. 
“Why didn’t you ever send them? They were mine so why did you keep them?” He hears an edge in her voice that makes him wonder if she’s only talking about the letters. 
“Cha-young, I don’t think you understand.” 
She breathes out loudly, stomping over to him until they are inches apart and he has no choice but to look into the deep pool of her eyes. 
“I don’t! I don’t understand anything, I thought you had found someone else in Malta and the postcards were just your way of being nice. I thought you didn’t feel the same way I did, you were sending Han Seo letters but you wouldn’t do the same for me. What was I supposed to think? Why didn’t you try to help me understand, you were gone for six months!” 
There’s so much wrong with everything she said, how could he find anyone else when his heart beats for her? How could he forget her when everything he did reminded him of her, he saw her every night in his dreams. But he doesn’t make the same mistake this time, he says what’s important. 
“I feel the same way. I love you Cha-young. I thought this was better for you, that this could be enough. But I was wrong, I missed you every minute of every--” 
“Come home with me.” 
He stops, stares, gapes and then stares some more. 
“What? I wasn’t finished confessing though.” Actually offended that she interrupted his planned speech. He was about to recite one of his favorite Italian love poems for her and then ask her to dance. 
She rolls her eyes dragging him towards the door, “Don’t you think we’ve wasted enough time? It’s been six months and you have been here for too long, you have to go soon.” 
She’s right, he has a flight in two days for an identity he borrowed for his escape. 
“Listen to her, just go back to her place and have a good night!” That sounds like Cheol-Wook and then they all erupt into applause and start cheering and hollering, chanting their names and then to his embarrassment they start chanting, “Go have sex! Go have sex!” complete with the monks banging on their drums and he doesn’t think he will ever live down this moment, especially when he sees Miri capturing it on the new video camera he had gifted her. 
He flips them off as an eager Cha-young pulls him away their laughter following them all the way. 
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The car ride is too long on the way over and she wonders how quickly she can undress them both as soon as they reach, there is simply no time to waste. 
But once they get to the doorstep he suddenly freezes, tugging her backwards into his chest. 
“This looks familiar doesn’t it?” His voice is dark and smoky and she immediately knows what he’s referring to, and she refuses to give him any reaction. 
“Are you seriously doing this right now?” 
“You let someone else touch you. Here.” He runs a hand up her neck, briefly squeezing, “And here,” she gasps at his hands suddenly on her breast, squeezing harshly at the tender flesh. 
“So what are you going to do about it?” She knows that she’s playing with fire, but that is their foundation. She has never aimed to cool him off or tone him down, she sees the dark side inside of him and loves it, encourages it and feeds on it herself allowing it to bring her darkness out too. 
He kicks the door open, shoving her side and she delights at the rough treatment. She hopes that she is filled with his bruises tomorrow. 
She doesn’t wait for his next move, pulling her shirt up and over her head before tugging off her skirt leaving herself in a barely there lace panties and a matching lace bra that is translucent, her nipples peeking through the sheer material. He stares at her transfixed, his hunger evident in his eyes and in the tent forming in his tight dress pants. 
“Take those off.” She commands and he smirks before obeying, peeling the pants off his thighs standing in his button down shirt and tight boxer briefs that leave nothing to her imagination, every delicious inch of him visible. She steps forward bringing their bodies in contact, before thrusting her hand inside the opening of his briefs. He feels hard and smooth, liquid pooling at the tip and she twists her hand collecting it to ease her slow strokes up and down. His voice hitches as she fingers his balls and without warning she tugs his boxers off, leaving him bare to her eyes. 
Mesmerized by the unencumbered sight of him, she drops to her knees using her hand to guide him to her eagerly waiting mouth. 
His flavor explodes on her tongue and she swallows more, grabbing his hips to drag him deeper into her mouth until she can feel him in her throat, but even after her eyes start to burn and she feels herself choking she doesn’t stop, bobbing up and down hungrily, sloppy wet sounds filling the room in a filthy symphony. At first he lets her control the movement, pliant in her hands but as she increases her speed and suction he starts groaning and huffing loudly and then she feels his hand on the back of her hand, keeping her in place and when she looks up at him he looks wrecked. Eyes dazed and his face red and flushed, she ingrains that image in her mind, for when he’s gone and all she has are her toys. 
She stares back defiantly before he draws himself out of her mouth, a single line of spit connecting them and then he thrusts back into her mouth roughly and she opens her mouth wider to accept the abuse, loving every second of it even as a her throat aches. He sets a frantic pace, his balls slamming against her chin and she doesn’t realize at first that his grunts have transformed into words, too much blood rushing to her head. 
“Mine. Mine, nobody can---ah fuck! Nobody can see you like this. Only me. You’re mine.” 
He fucks her mouth like it’s his to use and do what he pleases, and she’s wetter than she’s ever been listening to him claim her verbally and with the wet push of his dick in her mouth. 
She starts grinding on the floor like a cat in heat and without preamble he grabs her under her armpits and lifts her like she weighs nothing, his dick sliding free from her hot mouth, “I want to make you scream.” He says this like a declaration of love and she throws herself at him, kissing the words off his lips. His tongue swirls in her mouth and she wonders if he can taste himself in her. It makes her hotter and she grinds her barely covered pussy onto his naked length, groaning at the friction even though the thin layer separating them. 
He tosses her onto the bed and she doesn’t even remember them walking, his tongue and his wondering fingers had completely distracted her. 
She lays sprawled across the bed as he stares at her, like she’s feast he can’t wait to devour. 
“Nobody has been in here.” She doesn’t know if he’s asking a question or making a statement, but she feels that his jealousy is real. Seeing her with someone else had done something to him, guilt washes over her. If she had seen him with someone else she would have lost her mind too. 
“Nobody. I never brought anyone home before, that guy was a mistake. I was just hurt and missing you. I’m sorry.” 
He had abandoned her for six months and she didn’t owe him anything but his pain is her pain and they are stronger now, everything has been said. 
“Good.” 
Then he rips her panties away and buries his face between her legs, prying her wide open with his hands and lapping at her with his searing hot tongue. Immediately he has his wish and she screams, loud enough to fill the entire room. 
“Already screaming amore? It’s going to be a long night, I want to make you hoarse.”  
She doesn’t get a moment to respond before he’s back to licking and sucking at her most sacred part, fingers deep inside her as he thrusts and strokes alongside his tongue, his fingers and tongue moving in tandem and she tries to stifle the scream but a particularly deep fuck makes the sound erupt from her throat and her head feels dizzy from the overwhelming sensation. 
He has boundless energy it seems, as time drags by and she feels her body tightening up as he systemically destroys her, he never takes a break or pauses, slurping up all the liquid that drips from her and the sounds of him swallowing are beyond erotic. When a hand runs up her stomach and squeezes at a bouncing breast she can’t contain her moans of pleasure, crying out as his fingers pinching the tight bud of her nipple. 
“Please.” 
He coos in her, “So pretty when you beg.” Then he sticks his tongue as far as it can go and she hears the rush of blood in her head as her body shakes apart and her release gushes from her body, twitching when he laps it all up her oversensitive body recoiling from the overstimulation. 
She has never come like that before, most men have never put in the work necessary to make her come and she wasn’t one to fake it so her experiences with sex with someone else were few and far in between. 
This feels like nirvana. 
“You still with me amore?” The bastard looks so smug, looming above her naked arms on the side of her head, and she had no idea when he took his shirt off. 
“I can’t feel like my legs.” 
He chuckles loudly at the statement, grinning growing wider. 
“Well I can assure you that they’re still there and they will look great wrapped around my waist.” 
Raising to his challenge, although her body is still buzzing she wraps her legs around his waist, they feel like jelly but she finds the strength to follow through with her movement. 
“I was right they do look great.” 
“Well this would look great in me.” She counters, grabbing at his thick ruddy red dick jutting from his body and he rocks into her hand before knocking her hand away and taking himself in his hand. 
“Do we need a condom?” He asks her, looking like he is ready to stop at nay minute if she tells him that they do. 
“No.” 
She has been on birth control since she was a teen and there’s been no one for her since she met him, and she trusts that it’s been the same for him. 
“Thank goodness, I want to feel everything.” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s easing into her, slow and steady. She lets him continue for a moment before she tightens her legs around his waist and pulls him in roughly, as deep as she can get him in this position. “Fuck, you’re so impatient.” 
“Shut up and fuck me already.” 
He grumbles at her calling her bossy, but she sighs when he draws out and slams back in with a quick snap of his hips. 
“Yes just like that!” 
He takes direction very well, repeating the motion until the bed starts to creak from their movements, he pistons in and out of her gone all semblance of gentle or slow, they have teetered into a speed that can only be defined as “break neck” and she feels her body sliding up the mattress as he pounds into her over and over again, she latches onto his neck eager to leave a branding mark on him and he groans at the suction, grinding harder into her and gripping her ass to force her to meet his vicious thrusts. 
Absently she feels him peeling her bra from her body, the only remaining item of clothing that has survived their coupling and she knows exactly when he sees the scar. The grotesque knitting of skin that had left a permanent scar on her shoulder, she almost covers it up but when she peels her eyes open he is staring at her mesmerized. 
“Don’t look.” 
He leans down to kiss it, the softest more precious kiss she has ever received in her life. 
He peppers more kisses all over, then strokes at it with a single finger. 
“I should have realized, this was your confession. I was an idiot. I will never be that stupid again, I love you so much. I would do anything for you. Anything.” 
He puts her legs on her shoulder, nearly bending her in half before resuming his thrusts but they are less frenzied now, it feels like lovemaking. Her eyes prickle when he kisses her scar with every downward thrust, whispering, “Beautiful, so beautiful. Every inch of you.” 
She cries out. 
With every thrust he kisses her scar, making her feel lightheaded and naked. 
When he moves them into a new position, her back to his front giving him better access to her scar, she loses herself as he whispers sweet nothings into her ears and litters the spot with warm kisses. 
She falls off the edge with his lips on her scar and him deep inside her, warm bursts filling her up before leaking out onto the bed sheets. 
“Today’s our last day.” 
Waking up next to him is torture, she tries not to ingrain that in her mind but it’s too late it’s already there. He blinks away the sleep in his eyes at her words and then nods solemnly in agreement. 
“Yes for this visit. But I’ll always come back for you.” 
She smiles brightly, “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.” 
They don’t leave the bed except to get breakfast and that ends with her laid across the kitchen table getting taken from behind after teasing him. He can’t seem to keep his hands off her new hair, twisting the short strands in his hands and yanking on them. She catches him looking at her heatedly more than once. 
Then they wind up in the shower, trying to clean up and getting dirtier instead, his hands tight in her hair and around her waist as he hoists her up to pound her into the wall. Making up for lost time. 
They get messages from their entire family, Vincenzo showing her a message from Han Seo asking if he’s going to be an uncle soon. She promises to embarrass him in front of Miri very, very soon. 
Both pretend they don’t feel the day fading away, bringing them closer to their goodbye. 
Tomorrow he will be gone again, but there’s no guessing now. She knows what she means to him now and that’s more than enough. 
She wakes up to an empty bed and a ticket to Malta, the ball is in her court. 
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mcyt-amber-tftsmp · 3 years
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐛 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭
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A— Abnormal (what makes them different?)
What makes Ranbob different from you is that fact that you are human while he is not. He is a literal semi-half enderman while he he is also a semi-half unknown hybrid. He finds himself pretty dangerous to you since he thinks that one day he will harm you in some way and it's just gonna make him fill up with so much guilt.
B— Bad Habits (what bad habits do they have?)
Ranbob has a bad habit of scratching his arms which results in many new scars and sometimes he would actually scratch so much that it will start bleeding. This would actually worry you a lot about him thinking why he does it but you do know it pains him a lot and would help him patch it up.
C— Crying (what makes them cry?)
The only thing that makes Ranbob cry is when he has nightmares about you dying in different ways which could either be by his own hands or by something or someone else. This does cause him to wake up with a jolt and there was a time when he accidentally woke you up by jolting too much from a nightmare and this made you worried and comforted him.
D— Death (How do they die? With family or alone? How does their partner find out?)
Ranbob's death was basically a cause of his enderwalk state which he couldn't control and he was slightly out of control but one side of him was fighting to escape it and the only way was to kill himself off which you didn't want but you had to let it happen. It would be a pretty selfish act for him considering he will be leaving you but the one thing he will know is that you are safe and that's what matters the most but you wouldn't even leave his dead body and just continue crying in place.
E— Emotion (what's the emotion they tend to push away the most?)
Ranbob tends to push away his fears the most. He doesn't want you to worry and there are times when he would let fear come back to him and he hates showing it a lot in front of you but you keep telling him not to considering we all fear something but Ranbob has his reasons.
F— Frustrated (how much would it take to push them off the edge?)
If you annoy Ranbob when he's not having a good day to the point he breaks, he will lash out completely and would attack without thinking and when he sees you hurt his anger will wash away and get replaced with fear and regret and would apologize so many times that he would just start crying.
G— Gullible (who are they most gullible to and why?)
Himself. Ranbob has changed for the better because of you and he thinks he can just let go off his past mistakes and move on. But that's where he is wrong considering he has voices sometimes saying negative things and reminding him off his past wrong doings. He knows he did those things and he has no excuse for it. He hates himself for this.
H— Humiliation (someone says something humiliating about them)
"Freak!"
He basically knew that it was directed at him but he looked like he didn't care on the outside but on the inside he was slightly hurt. He doesn't show it. You on the other hand who was with him and heard someone yell this out to him were not having it and gave out a snarky reply to the man that legit shut him up. Ranbob's happy that you stood up for him but deep down he's still hurt and you can tell he is behind that indifferent expression.
I— Insecure (what are their insecurities?)
How he looks. Honestly he looks like he doesn't care but his insecurities have a way of crawling back to him about how he looks. I mean he is slightly scary at first which he isn't a fan of but he's actually a nice guy once you get to know him but it's still a thing for him which he can't let go at all.
J— Jealous (what makes them feel jealous?)
When someone flirts with you. He will literally glare down at the person by holding your waist and standing behind you while he looks at the person flirting dead in the eye and he is like a few seconds away from killing them too if they don't hurry up and run.
K— Knife (how do they feel about hurting others?)
Ranbob used to hurt whoever came to Mizu cause he did kill a lot of people who previously came before you did. Now he just doesn't like it but there are times when he looks at a sword he gets weird hallucinations of it being slightly covered in blood and it will really throw him off and make him drop it before picking it up later on.
L— Love (who was their first love? Was it returned? How did it end?)
Well his first and last love would be you and yes it was returned and you guys are still in a relationship with each other. Ranbob loves you dearly but fears he will hurt you. You love him a lot more than he knows.
M— Mindfulness (what calms them down when they're feeling anxious or depressed?)
When Ranbob holds onto you or when you hug him, all his anxiousness goes away and it also helps him come from his depressive episodes. Usually it would sometimes be the other way but it also come in this way too.
N— Nightmare (do they have them? How often? What's their reaction, and what are they about?)
Ranbob has nightmares most of the time but not all the time and they would mostly be about you either leaving him or dying in his hands or some other way and he always jolts awake with small tears forming in his eyes and would look around to see that you are safe and not harmed and that's what calms him down but he is slightly scared to fall asleep again but he does anyways with zero nightmares.
O— Obsess (what they're obsessed with that you might judge them for? What's their "weird" obsession?)
The fact that Ranbob legitimately looks up to Dream and that Dream is his idol he just thinks that the way he worships him may weird you out but you don't find it weird at all but he just thinks otherwise without your knowledge. I wouldn't say he's obsessed but it looks like it in front of other people.
P—Pressure (what stresses them out to the breaking point?)
Blood happens to stress him out to his breaking point cause it always reminds him of how he killed people with no mercy and it just makes him lose it sometimes that he would break down at times with his negative voices throwing in things altogether.
Q— Quirks (what's one of their quirks they consider a flaw that you like?)
Sometimes Ranbob feels like having heterochromia is a flaw considering not many people have them and the fact that's it's pretty uncommon but you seem to love them and would always find them pretty which would make Ranbob smile knowing you love them and he tries to like them too.
R— Repressed (what memories do they repress or they wish they could forget?)
Ranbob wants to forget his wrong doings from the past where he killed off the many people that came down here but it just seems to come crawling back to him and he hates it and just wants it gone for good.
S— Sorrow (would they feel empty after the death of a loved one?)
Ranbob would completely shut down after he sees you die in front of him. He would just cry for hours and would blame himself for not being able to help your nor protect you at all and the guilt happens to increase and eats him up bad.
T— Time (what if they had a limited time to live?)
Ranbob would make the most out of it by being with you. He would do anything in his power to do the things you love and go on out for walks and other things you both love doing together. He would hate to leave you alone when his time is up and you would just be felling empty without him.
U— Umbrage (what pisses them off? What offends them?)
What pisses him off the most is when people flirt with you cause it makes him jealous and would be on the verge of killing them. At this point nothing offends him but if someone says something offensive about him, he won't hesitate to bring out that netherite sword and scare the person off.
V— Vent (how do they let things out after a bad day?)
When it comes to venting out things after a bad day, Ranbob would stay away from you as far as possible so he doesn't hurt you at all considering the way he lets out his anger is by punching things like the wall or sometimes throwing something which won't break. It does scare you a bit but you would cautiously come up to him and hug him to make him calm down which works well.
W— Weakness (what is their personal weakness?)
Ranbob's weakness would be you but not in a bad way or anything. If something were to happen to you, he would become pretty vulnerable. He would do anything in his power to protect you even if it meant sacrificing himself in order to do that.
X— X-Double-Minus (random sad headcanon)
One time, Ranbob was venting out his anger like a lot like he usually does but this time it was a bit too much. You on the other hand tried to calm him down but he was slightly blinded with anger that he accidentally pushed you away by clawing your cheek made you fall backwards on the floor slightly hard but not so much. Ranbob's anger immediately washed away once he saw what he did and all that got replaced with fear, regret and guilt which cause him to apologize so many times and a panic attack. You came up to him and hugged him to calm him down and tell him that it's alright and that you know he never meant it which slightly helps.
Y— Yearn (what is one thing they want that they know they can't have?)
The one thing Ranbob wants is to reverse time and fix his mistakes but he knows that it's impossible and he has to live with the amount of guilt and regret he has with him. But he knows he has you that will help him along the way.
Z— Zoophobia (is there any animal/bug/creature that scares them?)
Ranbob is legitimately an enderman hybrid and what bugs do endermen despise or gets scared off? The answer is endermites. He's not a huge fan of them in general and is kind of glad that they don't exist anywhere near him cause if it did he would lose it.
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