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velvrei · 2 years

Text

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED

summary: robby and the reader go to prom and kyler’s after party, what happens when robby misbehaves and annoys the reader?

pairings: robby keene x female!reader

warnings: smut, season 4? handjobs, semi-public sex (except they don't actually have sex), begging, underage drinking, praise kink, pda (kissing in public), degradation, edging, overstimulation, choking

word count: 3k

author’s note: another early morning post<3 hope everyone has an amazing day and i hope you enjoy!

That content smile your father seldomly showed always uplifted you at the greatest times possible. He didn't smile much, however, when he did, it was for a good reason. Today's reason, it was prom night.

You and your father were very close. He was the type of dad to threaten or even hurt anyone who hurt you. And oh, the advantage of having a filthy rich father. He let you pick out your dress, no matter the price, and then not too long after took your date, Robby Keene, out to buy a tux. You insisted that you would go with though, cause you sensed your dad would doubtlessly have that father-daughters-boyfriend talk about how "if you hurt her I'll hurt you", or "you better treat her how she deserves".

Robby treated you like a queen, which is something your dad observed and it something he appreciated.

Robby constantly told you how perfect you were. He knew how to make you feel appreciated, and you constantly made sure he felt appreciated as well. You and Robby were sublime together.

"Daddy? Robby? Can I come down now?!" You yelled yearningly down the stairs. It was time for your big reveal with your new dress, as they did in basically every teen-movie involving some kind of dance. It was finally your turn, and you got to be escorted by the karate star of your dreams. It was the perfect moment.

"Yes, honey, we're ready."

You began your walk down the stairs, holding the railing to make sure you didn't stumble upon yourself. You looked up and saw your dad holding the phone on it's side, recording with his jaw dropped as one would. You looked beautiful. You had great taste.

Your dress was a gorgeous burgundy, with spaghetti width straps as well as a v cut that ended slowly above your breasts, far enough to make them perk up but you pulled it up until you got past your dad. You didn't feel like getting 'questioned' (which was Terry's replacement word for getting screamed at) on prom night.

Your gaze met Keene's and his jaw was dropped. He looked astonishing in his matching tux. His blazer and pants were jet black, as well as his tie and pocket square.

"Y- You look-" Robby was inarticulate, he was unable to speak.

"Beautiful, honey! I'm so glad I let you pick out your dress. You look amazing. Pretty sure Robby agrees, he's speechless!" Terry smiled brightly and you walked down the last step, instantaneously giving him a bear hug.

"Thank you so much daddy, for everything," You let go of your dad not wanting to crush his soul, "Today has been so perfect and I already know we'll have so much fun." His smile grew hearing your appreciation. He loved you so much, all he needed was to make sure his little girl had fun.

"Yes, thank you so much, Mr. Silver. Thank you for the tux, I'll pay you back when I can-"

"Don't worry about that kid, all I ask for is that you two stay safe. Tonight is supposed to be enjoyable, if you get in fights, first you win, then after the dance or whatever after party I'm sure someone will throw come back to tell me. I will handle it if it needs to be handled afterwards." Hearing those words made you feel safe.

"Of course, if something goes on that doesn't involve us we will disregard the entire situation." Robby looked Terry straight in the eye, but it wasn't a challenging stare per say, more of a 'I've got your back' look.

"Okay! Let me get some pictures and then you two should be on your way!" Terry spoke, searching around for one of his butlers to take a photo of the three of them.

"Ophelia, could you come here and take a picture for me and my two favorite teens, please?" He shouted, and Ophelia came running. She was always your favorite, she was adorable. Brown hair, ocean blue eyes, which was exceptionally rare for her darker skin tone.

"Of course, Mr. Silver." Her voice was always incredibly calming.

Your father's scoff turned into a laugh, "Remember, love, you can call me Terry. I get you work for me and you feel the need to but I really prefer Terry no matter who it is."

Your dad smiled sweetly toward Ophelia, and she smiled back gratefully, ready to take the picture on Terry's phone as he wrapped his arms around the both of you, standing in the middle. 'If he stood on the side it would've looked awkward', was probably something he would say later on.

The picture was taken, along with a few selfies taken by Terry and his long armed, substantial tall figure. Terry escorted the two of you into his lamborghini veneno that he gave you for the night.

Then, you were off to live the night of your dreams.

彡

You arrived to prom in style, you and Robby's whole goal was to make everyone turn their heads and cluelessly wonder how the former criminal bagged Samantha LaRusso's ex-buddy and Yasmine and Moon's current bestie. Sam used to be your friend, but she had messed up way to many times.

Robby quickly jogged to the passenger seat, almost tripping on the cement but he ceased himself and opened your door successfully.

"M'lady," He said, bowing with one hand behind his back then quickly reaching out and helping you out do the car.

"Thank you, kind sir." The playful banter didn't last very long, and no surprise you were the won to end it, "I swear to the devil if these heels ache my feet one more time I will fucking throw them at literally anyone's stupid face-"

Robby shushed you, his finger hovering your sultry lips. It smelled of cologne. How much cologne did he put on that day?

"It's okay, just let me know if it continues so I can sweep you off your feet." He said with a cunning smirk.

You were in for a tedious night of cheesy pick-up lines.

As you walked up to the door, thundering music filled your ears, the smell of school and alcohol filling your nose, which is something you should've expected but didn't in the slightest.

"Okay, if we see Sam or even Miguel, just look for like 2 seconds and look away, let's give them the act that we don't give a fuck. Cause we don't," His arm linked with yours, "Am I correct, Lady Silver?"

"You sure are, Sir Keene."

You slightly pushed passed the coral curtain, your steps in sync as you felt your chest become moderately warm. You both looked to the left of you, seeing Samantha and Miguel together at one of the many punched bowls that were spiked.

As soon as you even felt them notice, you looked away, and straight ahead, your eyes pausing on Moon and Yasmine.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," You heard Sam murmur, you could tell the frustration in her voice even if it was just a careless whisper.

Speaking of careless whispers, you heard the song by George Michael begin playing. You looked Robby directly in the eye and he knew exactly what you wanted. He was ready to go mingle with Kyler and Piper as you did so.

He gave you the gaze of approval, even thought you technically didn't need his permission. You kissed his cheek and ran off with Moon and Yasmine to sing your heart outs as if you were just broken up with and still in love with your former partner. But none of you were actually.

After you sung noisily with your closest friends, not even somewhat embarrassed of how heartbroken you may've sounded, and intensely danced with Robby to LES by Childish Gambino.

"Hey love, I heard our old teacher buddy Stingray is throwing an after party at his place," His eyes met yours and his right hand that was covered in rings found a place in your waist, "Wanna get out of here?" His eyebrows raised, his gaze moved down to your lips then back up to your eyes.

"You know it, baby."

彡

You and Robby were both been expecting some kind of after party to be held after prom, it was a tradition and it was finally your turn to be apart of it. Your whole night felt surreal.

You and Robby stumbled in through the door, his lips separating from your warm ones as he removed his hands from your waist.

"Aye look at Robby over there getting some, why don't I have that?" Kyler remarked, you could tell his dumbass was already intoxicated, you could smell his breath from a mile away.

"Maybe if you actually became tolerable more girls would be attracted to you," You shook your head with a chuckle.

Robby swiftly moved his hand up to your mouth, turning your chin toward him so you were eye level and wiped off your wet bottom lip as you tried not to internally freak out and played it somewhat normal by fixing his undone tie, maybe you should've have pulled on it as hard as you did outside.

"We'll continue that later," You whispered, then smacked his ass causing him to wince somewhat loudly.

Tory laughed, attempting to get Kyler some water to stay at least some what allegeable, "You alright over there, Keene?" She grabbed a dishrag from the drawer next to her, which she had remembered from the countless times she and the cobra gang had hung out with Stingray in the previous times.

"Yeah," Robby lied with a voice crack.

You laughed, then strolled over to find something else to do, Robby quickly following. "Why do you keep smacking my ass?" He questioned, you could tell he was becoming a frantic mess already. It was only eleven thirty-five post meridiem.

"You've got a voluptuous ass on you, man, if you haven't realized that already," You had smacked it at least seventeen times throughout the night, and it wasn't even close to being finished yet. "Oh?" You ignored his simple remark.

"Why? Do you not like it?"

"I never said that," He laughed and scratched his neck awkwardly.

You hummed, your left hand grasping his tie and your right ran along his stabbing jawline, you raised your lips up to his ear, "You know I wouldn't purposely do anything you're uncomfortable with, right, love?"

You softly kissed below his ear, knowing that was his sweet spot. You heard an almost silent sigh leave his lips, the actions you executed always left him desired for more.

He mumbled a ‘mhm’.

"Use your words, my king."

His knees became week and he almost collapsed in the middle of the room. Your voice was so sexy. "Yes, I know that, Y/N." His voice was raspy and low, as if he just had sexual intercourse although you've just been teasing him with your words.

"Good. Just wanted to make sure," Your nails lightly heaved the soft skin of his face. "Let's go find somewhere more private, shall we?" He nodded eagerly, but then remembered to use his words.

"Please, Y/N."

The sound of him begging quietly in your ear made you get butterflies in the place a little lower than your stomach, you felt your heart skip a beat as you made eye contact, grabbed him by his tie and pulled him in for a kiss, at this point, it didn't even matter if Sam or Miguel saw you.

You winked, then turn around, your fingers still firmly grasping his tie, leading him to find a somewhat empty closet.

Once you did just that, Robby felt his pants get tighter as you closed the door behind the two of you and pushed him up against the door.

You were so enticing. "You look so good, my love," Your hand traced faintly down his chest, he was so aroused his pale cheeks were almost red.

"Please, Y/N."

"Please what, my love? What do you want?" He let out a frustrated groan as your hand advanced lower and lower, stopping at his V-line. "T- touch me."

You enjoyed this side of him, he rarely showed vulnerability, and when he did it was with you. It made you aroused at the thought and sight of him begging for you to touch him.

Your lips firmly pushed against his, your left hand ran into his hair, pulling roughly and he let out an raucous moan. He eagerly pushed his crotch against you in attempt for some class of friction, failing miserably as you caught the act and stepped away, your lips separating.

"How cute, you're impatient," Your words were sweet like honey but what they meant made him stuck. He was officially sexually frustrated because of you, and you were adoring it.

You pushed his blazer off, his button-up displayed his chest beautifully. "Just thought I would help you, cause you seem to be very hot and bothered." He whined at your words.

"Please don't tease me. Please, please just do something. I don't care what it is," God, he was so needy. "Just touch me, Y/N."

You slowly undid the first three buttons of his shirt, leaving the remaining ones together as Robby's hands flit up to both verges of your face. "Y/N. Do something. I'm begging you," You could hear the direct need in his tone, and it made your knees give in.

You couldn't wait any longer to watch your boyfriend lose it.

"Fine."

You moved quickly, your hands swiftly undoing his pants and shoving them down. His boxers joined his pants and you grabbed ahold of him. He let out a needy whimper. "That's what you wanted, wasn't it, love? For me to touch you? You're so fucking needy."

He panted heavily, "You really have a way with words, huh?" He shuttered, his cheeks were bright pink and his hair was slightly messed up from your hands grasping at it.

"Only you would know that," A shiver traveled down his spine as you bent over and spat, then began pumping him faster.

You didn't bother shielding his lips with your free hand because you knew the loudly blasting music would cover his mellow whines and whimpers. "Holy shit." His hand fumbled on the door nob, trying to find something to lean himself on.

You looked him directly in the eye, you then turned him so his back was faced on the inside wall of the colorless closet.

Precum leaked off of him, he watched you in awe as you swiped your thumb across him and brought the remains up, your swollen lips closed around, your tongue worshipped his sweet taste.

He moaned at the sight, everything you did evoked him.

"Your hands are so, fuck," He wasn't able to form a proper sentence so you finished it for him, "Talented? Soft? Perfect? Something along those lines I'm assuming?" You said with a grin, your cocky side began to show, it made him weaker by the second.

"I'm so close, fuck," He whispered as his legs began to shake and his heart began to beat much faster than before. You slowly pulled away, and he suddenly became cold at the loss of your touch. He whined desperately, by now his entire body was alight with arousal and it was really pissing him off how you kept teasing but he knew if he did something about it he would regret it poorly.

"You want to come? Okay, I want to hear you beg for it. I want to hear you explain what you want me to do and then I may just do it." You spoke. He took that as a challenge. Challenge excepted.

He knew just how to make you listen.

"Please, Y/N, please, let me come," He begged with the tiniest smirk you've ever seen, "Please, I'll do anything, I'll be such a good boy for you," You almost moaned but you ceased yourself, "Please, please let me come." He begged.

You looked him in the eye and pumped him as fast as your hand could possibly go, he moaned loudly and began thrusting up to your hand. You wanted him to regret that he ever sassed you, even if it was just a little smirk he gave, however you saw it.

He mouth fell open, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Even after he came, you continued pumping him and he groaned.

Your fingers firmly gripped his throat.

"You really think you can purposely turn me on and not expect any consequences? Think again, Keene, you may have got what you wanted, but oh, honey, I'm going to do so much more than that." He whimpered at your words, and your hand continued loving at the same speed.

You began to get a cramp in your hand but you ignored it and continued your assault by rotating your hand and rubbing your thumb along his tip. "Fuck!"

He came again.

And again.

The overstimulations were enjoyable at first but it eventually became too much, and he begged for you to stop or else he would explode. You knew that. "You gonna be sassy to me?" Your hand tightened on his neck, and you examined his eyes. His pupils were dilating like crazy.

"No, Y/N, I promise I won't. You're in charge, I know that now. I'm so sorry, please forgive me." His attempted apology was like music to your ears. "Are you really sorry?"

"Yes!"

You smirked, and pursued to pump him. "Oh god I'm so close again, please please let this be the last one I w- won't be able to walk." He was a mess. It was beautiful.

"Okay my king, come for me. One last time." Your soft whispers caused him to throw his head back, he didn't care how hard it hit the door or how loud it could've sounded. He shouted your name as he orgasmed, and you swore he was about to cry.

After he finished he almost fell over but you caught him before he could. You put his weight back into the wall and cupped his cheek carefully. "You did so well, honey."

He melted into the warmth of your hand, and he stopped the arise of the red on his cheeks. "Thank you."

It made you happy knowing he trusted you enough to be vulnerable around you. You got him to beg multiple times, even if quite a few seemed sarcastic, he clearly learned his lesson.

He challenged you, and you won. You always won.

#robby keene smut #cobra kai imagine #robby keene x reader #cobra kai #imagines #cobra kai smut

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montammil · 1 year

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Hi there! 🌠

You mentioned Sadie earns a small income off of her photography,

Would Lawrence ever go out to buy one of these photos just to see Sadie again (and be able to claim he's supporting his children's business :D)?

Would Sadie even allow him to buy any of her paintings? I wouldn't put it last her to outright refuse him sale since it's not her main job.

So sorry this is shorter than what I usually write, but I hope you still like it! Maybe I'll write a continuation soon if anyone wants me to continue!! I'm getting some other requests done, I think the next one should be posted tomorrow!! ^^

CW: Past kidnapping, mentions of stalking, female whumpee, parental whumper

...

Lawrence wasn't actively trying to seek Sadie out, in all fairness. He was just accompanying a few friends of his to an art fair, since one of said friends just liked going to these things.

He found it mildly entertaining. It was a good way to pass time, and he would occasionally buy a few prints and paintings if he really liked them.

Photography at these shows were rare, so he slowly stopped walking as he saw a stand of photographs. Each and every one looked vibrant, which he admired.

"We're gonna go look over there," his friend told him.

Nodding and not even looking in the direction he pointed, Lawrence replied, "I'll catch up to you."

As soon as they left, he picked up his favorite photo: a photo of the northern lights. Nadia and him planned to have their honeymoon there, and even though the reminder of what he couldn't have left a bitter feeling in his mouth, it was always nice to have something to remember her by.

He also got a photo of a starry night sky, reminded of Marshall, and decided to get that for him (even if he knew realistically he wouldn't care for it).

Lawrence didn't have much of a line to wait in, only two people in front of him. He looked down at the two prints, smiling to himself. He made a mental note to take Marshall stargazing tonight. He was sure he was making enough progress to trust him.

When he got to the front of the line, he looked up from the photos in his hand to see a familiar face.

His eyes widened. Hers did too, except twice as large.

"Sadie," Lawrence breathed.

"No... no, no, nonono..." She backed up into the wall behind her, looking like a deer in headlights. She seemed too stunned to move, judging by how she just stood there.

Honestly, Lawrence was just as shocked. He blinked, then took a quick glance around to make sure no one was within earshot. There was a single woman browsing, so he knew he'd have to stay calm about this.

"It's nice to see you again, buddy. I had no idea you were into photography," Lawrence observed. He didn't like how fearful she looked of him, as if he hurt her. He could understand Nathan's fear, but he never hurt Sadie! Not physically, at least.

...not like he really got a chance to anyway, given she ran away relatively quickly.

She took a deep breath, eyes darting around the area as if looking for an escape. Lawrence wouldn't stop her if she tried, knowing how strange that'd look. He kept his smile for the sole purpose of trying to calm her down and not arouse suspicion.

"...what are you doing here?" she finally asked. She had a look that was a mixture of anger and horror.

He kept his seemingly innocent grin. "I had no idea you were here, kiddo, I swear. I was just coming by with some friends and then saw these pictures-- great work, by the way-- and decided to buy them. So..." He slid them on the desk.

She stared at the two prints for a moment, then back at him. "There's no other motivations here?"

With an amused snort, Lawrence said, "I can assure you, I'm not your stalker or anything. It's been almost two years, hasn't it? I've gotten over it. Have you, though?"

"Whatever. That's one hundred." She grabbed a plastic bag from underneath the table and put the two prints in it. She waited for Lawrence to hand over the money before giving him the bag.

Lawrence knew she overpriced them on purpose, but he didn't argue with it, they were worth the price because they held a new meaning to him now, as not only a reminder of old times, but as something Sadie made. He felt like it was poetic, in a way.

Honestly, this whole moment seemed poetic to him. Like fate was trying to tell him not to give up on Sadie. He still had no idea if he was going to take advantage of this opportunity or not.

Sadie's expression turned more annoyed than anything. "You're holding up the line."

He glanced behind him to see the same woman who was browsing now behind him. He smiled. "So I am. Have a good day, Sadie. I'm so proud of you."

In response, she just cringed.

On the way out, he grabbed her business card containing all her contact info and the name to her website... to support her business more, of course. He'd be making himself a regular customer from now on.

He also wondered if Marshall would like a sibling.

#answered ask #lawrence oc #sadie oc #i'm so sorry this is so short and took so long T-T

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saiacross · 1 year

Text

Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic : 10,593 Words : First Work : OC

Chapter 5:

First the Children, Now the Winchesters

Heading to the kitchen of the bunker to find Dean and Saia, Sam rounds the corner carrying his laptop, eager to share the details of the case he has discovered. As he enters the kitchen, he finds Dean sitting at the table, engrossed in his breakfast, and Saia leaning against the counter, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Guys, I found something! You won't believe what's been happening in Shadowbrook, Georgia." Sam’s voice hold disbelief in itself.

Dean looks up from his plate, his interest piqued, while Saia turns her attention fully towards Sam. "Alright, Sammy, spill it. What's going on in Shadowbrook?"

Sam sets his laptop down facing Dean with the article open that displays the disturbing events that have plagued the town.

"Reports of giant spiders, knife-wielding clowns, and other terrifying creatures and events have been flooding the town of Shadowbrook. Every night, something new and horrifying emerges, and then it disappears by morning."

Saia's eyes widen as she takes in the details, clearly intrigued by the strange occurrences. "That sounds too weird even for us. So, what are we dealing with here? Some kind of demonic circus?"

Sam shakes his head, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's hard to say for sure, but the people are terrified, and the authorities have been unable to find a logical explanation for what's happening."

Examining the article closely, Dean finishes his breakfast. “Well, sounds like it's our kind of party. Let's suit up and hit the road, see what's really going on in Shadowbrook."

After a grueling 15-hour drive, the group finally arrives in Shadowbrook, Georgia, just as the sun begins to rise, casting an ethereal glow on the small town. Saia stretches her arms, feeling the stiffness from the long journey, while Dean adjusts his tie and Sam straightens his jacket. Dressed in their signature suits, they prepare to blend in as FBI agents to gain access to crucial information.

"Man, I can't believe we made it. I don't think my back has ever been so sore." Saia would say as she stretched.

"You'll survive, Saia. A little road trip never hurt anyone." Dean smirked.

"Alright, guys, the local police station is just a few blocks away. Let's head there and speak to the sheriff. Hopefully, he'll have some insights into these strange occurrences." Sam put his phone away after checking it.

The group makes their way through the quiet streets of Shadowbrook, observing the town awakening to a new day. As they approach the police station, they can see activity inside, officers going about their duties.

"Alright guys, I’ll do the talking. Just follow my lead and act professional." Dean said as he adjusted his sunglasses

"Act professional? That's asking a lot from you, Dean." Saia would smirk.

"Yeah, yeah. Just try not to scare anyone with your Kitsune charm." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Let's focus, guys. We're here to gather information and find a way to stop these weird events from terrorizing the town." Sam was always the ref with a smile.

They enter the police station, and as they approach the front desk, the receptionist looks up, curious. "Can I help you?"

Dean flashes his FBI badge with confidence, while Sam and Saia follow suit. "Agent Smith, here to speak with Sheriff Anderson. We're investigating the recent unusual events in Shadowbrook."

"I'll let the sheriff know. One moment please." The receptionist spoke nervously.

The group takes stood in the waiting area, scanning the room and taking note of the officers' reactions to their presence.

“They are staring pretty hard.” Saia would whisper to Sam.

"We've done this countless times, Saia. Just stay calm and follow Dean's lead." Sam would reassure her.

After a few minutes, Sheriff Anderson emerges from his office, walking towards them with a friendly smile.

"Agents, welcome to Shadowbrook. What can I help you with?" Sheriff Anderson greet the three of them with his hand held out.

"Sheriff Anderson, we're here to investigate the recent series of strange events that have been occurring in town. We're hoping you can provide us with any relevant information or leads." Dean spoke as he shook the Sheriff’s hand.

"Of course. I've compiled all the reports and evidence we have so far. Let's head to my office, and I'll brief you on everything."

As they settle into Sheriff Anderson's office, the room is adorned with maps, case files, and a whiteboard filled with notes and diagrams. The sheriff takes a seat behind his desk, while Sam, Dean, and Saia position themselves in front of him, ready to absorb every detail.

"Alright, here's what we know so far. These strange events started happening about a month ago. Each night, the townsfolk report encounters with bizarre creatures and terrifying phenomena. We've had reports of giant spiders, knife-wielding clowns, and even sightings of ghostly apparitions."

"Any pattern to these occurrences? Do they happen in specific areas or at certain times?" Sam had a small notepad out and pen, ready to take notes as they asked questions.

"The events are random and unpredictable. They don't seem to follow any pattern. Some incidents occur in residential areas, others in parks or public spaces. But they always happen after dark."

“Any injuries or signs of foul play?" Dean took his turn in questioning.

"Fortunately, no serious injuries have been reported. Most of the incidents have left people frightened or shaken, but no one has been harmed. Some folks think it's just kids playing tricks, while others believe it's something more paranormal. I'm not sure what to think." The sheriff shook his head and leaned back in his chair, he looked at a lost.

“We're here to investigate and help, Sheriff. We've dealt with similar cases in the past. We'll look into the reports, talk to witnesses, and see if we can uncover any hidden connections or explanations."Saia felt the need to comfort the poor man.

"I appreciate your assistance, folks. If there's anything I can do to support your investigation, just let me know. I want to ensure the safety and peace of mind of our town's residents."The Sheriff stood the shake everyone hand once again before they headed out.

Leaving Sheriff Anderson's office, they set out to gather more information, interview witnesses, and explore the town's history, working towards unraveling the mysterious occurrences plaguing Shadowbrook.

The group, weary from their unsuccessful attempts to solve the mysteries of Shadowbrook, finds themselves seeking solace and respite at a local bar. The dimly lit establishment is filled with the chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses, creating a comforting ambiance amidst the chaos they've been facing.

Sam, Dean, and Saia find a table seeking a momentary escape from the weight of their failed investigations. They sit together, nursing their drinks, each lost in their own thoughts. The weariness is evident on their faces, lines of exhaustion etched upon their brows.

"I can't believe we're hitting dead ends at every turn. These creatures keep appearing, causing havoc, and then vanishing without a trace. It's like chasing shadows." Saia sighed heavily.

"Tell me about it. We've been on our toes all week, barely getting any sleep." Dean ran his hand down his face.

“There must be some underlying pattern or connection that we're missing. We need to think outside the box and approach this from a different angle." Sam was resting his head on his hand that was propped at the elbow on the table.

Saia throws back her shot of whiskey, trying to drown her frustration. The taste of the alcohol briefly eases her tension, but the mystery of Shadowbrook looms over her like a dark cloud. "I just wish we could find something, anything that could point us in the right direction. It feels like we're running in circles."

As they continue to share their frustrations and thoughts, the atmosphere in the bar begins to lighten. Laughter and friendly banter fill the air, momentarily pushing aside the weight of their mission.

Dean raises his glass, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. "To finding the truth, no matter how elusive it may be." Sam and Saia raise their glasses in unison, the clink of glass resonating with a sense of camaraderie and resilience.

After a while Saia would raise from her seat and make her way over to the bar for refills on their drinks. It hadn’t taken long, though while she was waiting she noticed the guys each talking to a woman who had appeared by their sides. Thanking the bartender Saia would take up their drinks and return to their table, though as she did so Saia now realized that both Sam and Dean have vanished in the blink of an eye. She takes a seat, feeling a mix of amusement and exasperation at their sudden disappearances. As she scans the bar, her eyes catch Dean making his way towards the exit with the woman he had been talking to earlier.

"Typical Dean." Saia rolled her eyes as she watches as Dean meets her gaze, and without a word, he gestures with his hands that he will contact her later. Saia raises an eyebrow in response, silently questioning his actions. But before she can react, Dean is already out the door, leaving her alone at the table.

Saia takes a deep breath, trying to brush off her frustration. She leans back in her chair and scans the bar once more, hoping to spot Sam. And there he is, engrossed in a conversation with a stunning woman, a departure from his usual focused demeanor. "Well, this is unexpected." She muttered to herself.

She watches for a moment, observing Sam's uncharacteristic charm. A mix of amusement and concern washes over her. With a shake of her head, Saia decides to give them their space and enjoy her own company for the time being. "Well, looks like it's just me and my thoughts tonight." She would sigh.

The morning sunlight casts a warm glow over the motel parking lot as Sam and Dean find themselves standing face to face in front of their shared room. Both of them appear slightly disheveled, their hair tousled and their clothes wrinkled, indicative of a night spent away from the motel.

“Dean? Wait are you just getting back?” Sam asked with a raise eye brow.

"You caught me, Sammy. Had a good time, if you know what I mean." Dean was grinning mischievously.

Sam's face flushes with embarrassment as he realizes that Dean is well aware of his own nocturnal activities.

"So hanging out, huh? With a lady friend, I presume?" Dean poked fun at Sam.

"Yeah, something like that." Sam tried to look anywhere else but at Dean.

Dean slapped Sam on the back "That's my boy! I'm proud of you, Sammy. Finally living it up a little."

"Dean, can we not... talk about this?" Sam would ask uncomfortably.

Dean would chuckle "Don't worry, little brother. Your secret is safe with me. Just remember, always make sure to lock the door. Wouldn't want to accidentally interrupt anything, right?"

Sam rolls his eyes, trying to hide his amusement at Dean's teasing. Despite the embarrassment.

Just as Dean went to open the door Sam would place a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait… uh Dean..” Sam suddenly realized something.

Dean turned to Sam, confusion written across his face as he seen Sam’s eyes wide for some reason.

“If you were out, and I was out... that means we both ditched Saia at the bar last night." Sam’s voice was filled with concern.

A sinking feeling hit Dean stomach "Son of a... We left her alone? She's gonna kill us, Sam."

The weight of their actions settles heavily upon them as they begin to anticipate the repercussions of their thoughtless behavior. The thought of facing Saia's wrath sends a shiver down their spines.

"You think she's in there? Waiting for us?" Sam asked nervously.

"Knowing Saia, she's probably plotting our demise as we speak. We better brace ourselves, Sammy." Dean ran a hand through his hair.

As they looked to the door, Dean takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come.

Bracing himself Dean would ask "Ready, Sammy?"

Sam sighed "As ready as I'll ever be, Dean."

Sam and Dean enter their motel room, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their guilt. They exchange glances, silently acknowledging the gravity of their mistake. As they close the door behind them, their eyes fall upon Saia, who sits at the small table with her laptop open, a pistol within reach, and a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. Her posture is tense, her expression a mix of anger and disappointment.

"Morning, Saia! Slept well?" Dean ask in a cheery tone though his voice a bit shaky.

Saia's eyes narrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, just peachy. How about you two? Did you have a nice night gallivanting around town with the Ladies? Ditching me at the bar?"

Dean shifts uncomfortably, his bravado deflated. "Look, Saia, we didn't mean to... things just got a little out of hand. We lost track of time, you know how it goes."

"We are in the middle of a case, Dean. We are suppose to be working this as a team. But it seems like I'm just an afterthought."

Sam, feeling the weight of Saia's words, finally speaks up. "Saia, we messed up, and we're sorry. It was thoughtless of us to leave you alone like that. We understand if you're angry."

“Angry doesn't even begin to cover it, Sam!” Saia's fury fills the room as she glares at them both. “I mean are you two out of your minds? Random creatures are popping up in the middle of the NIGHT, causing havoc! And what do you do? You follow the first nice ass that looks your way out the door, without even considering the possible dangers they could have posed!"

“Well to be fair I wasn’t really looking at her ass ya know?” Dean would chuckle with a smile as though he were proud of himself while looking to his brother and motioning with his hands the ladies other rather well endowed area.

Saia and Sam looked to Dean with disbelief; did he really think what he just said helped his case?

Dean cleared his throat after noting their stares and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Saia, look we didn't—"

Saia cut him off, her voice sharp "No, Dean! You didn't think! You didn't consider the consequences. What if those women were involved in whatever is happening in this town? You could have put yourselves, me, and others at risk."

Sam remorseful "Saia, you're right. We should have been more cautious. We let our guard down, and it was a mistake."

Dean was nodding solemnly "You're right, Saia. We should have been more focused. We let our personal desires cloud our judgment."

Saia doesn’t say another word as she watches the to brothers. She sighs as she rubs her eyes with one hand, then pinches the bridge of her nose before looking back to her laptop.

“I think I may have found something.” She would address the guys. “While looking over the new letters again it seems along with the strange occurrences every night, there have been reports of children at the local school falling ill."

"Falling ill? What kind of illness?" Sam would question as he moved to stand behind her to look over her shoulder.

"The doctors are calling it extreme fatigue. The kids suddenly become incredibly tired, to the point where they can't even stay awake during the day. It's affecting a significant number of students, and the cause is unknown."

"Extreme fatigue? At an elementary? That doesn’t sound normal. It could be related to whatever is happening in this town." Dean would pounder.

"That's what I'm thinking too. It seems too coincidental to ignore.” Saia would nod her head as she sat back.

"Alright, let's look into it. We'll need to visit the school, talk to the teachers, and gather more information. It could give us some clues about what we're dealing with." Sam would pat Saia shoulder before he headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

“Good work.” Dean would praise Saia, shooting her a smile as he followed Sam. Saia would just shake her head and roll her eyes.

Sam, Dean, and Saia stood outside the principal's office at the local elementary school, dressed in their FBI suits, waiting to meet with him. Saia's eyes wandered to the colorful artwork hanging on the walls, created by the young students. Each drawing had the child's name and the date it was made.

"These drawings are so adorable. It's nice to see their creativity on display." Saia looked closer at some of the art.

"Yeah, they're not bad. But I've seen better." Dean scrutinized the drawings after a glance.

"Dean, they're just kids." Sam would remind him with a chuckle.

Saia to would let out a soft laugh at their banter, acknowledging the different view of the Winchester brothers. Just then, the principal emerged from his office, extending a welcoming hand.

"Good morning, officers. I'm Principal Anderson. Thank you for coming."

"Good morning, Principal Anderson. We're here to discuss the recent cases of extreme fatigue among the students and investigate any possible causes." Saia would greet. The trio followed Principal Anderson into his office, where they found a desk piled with paperwork and a cozy seating area.

“We've been working closely with medical professionals to find answers, but it's been a challenge. Most of the cases seem to be concentrated among the younger children. We're trying to determine if there are any common factors, but it's been elusive so far." He would explain.

As Sam, Dean, and Saia exited the principal's office, Principal Anderson handed them a list of names of the children who had been affected by extreme fatigue. Saia scanned the list, her brows furrowing in concentration.

"Wait a minute... These names... They look familiar." Saia paused mid stride.

"What do you mean? Have you come across them before?" Dean questioned.

Saia's eyes widened with realization, and a spark of excitement ignited within her. "I think I have. I saw these names on the artwork hanging in the hallway." Saia walked back towards the hallway where the children's artwork was displayed. Dean and Sam followed closely behind, their curiosity piqued.

"Are you saying the kids who made those drawings are the ones falling ill?" Sam voice voice try to remain hushed but carried in the empty hall.

Saia began removing the artwork that matched the names, creating a growing stack in her arms.

"Saia, what are you doing?" Dean whispered and looked around as though they would be caught.

Saia carefully gathered the artwork, holding the pieces in her hands. With a sense of urgency, she turned to face Sam and Dean, her eyes filled with a mix of astonishment and concern. "Guys, look at this. Each of these drawings, created by the children who have fallen ill, depicts one of the creatures that has been terrorizing the town at night."

"Wait, you're saying these kids somehow drew the monsters into existence?" Dean’s voice was filled with doubt. But Saia nodded.

"It's not just a coincidence. Each piece of art corresponds to a specific creature we've encountered. The clown with the knife, the giant spider, the ghost girl on a horse, the army of lawn gnomes.” Saia would pull out each picture as she listed off the events the town had experienced.

“That one was weird.” Dean huffed remembering putting each gnome with a base ball bat in the middle of the town square until drawn when they all disappeared.

Sam's brows furrowed, “Hey look. All these kids are in the same class.” Sam pointed to the grade level that was listed on each drawing and the teachers name. His mind racing to make sense of the information. "So, it's not just random attacks. There's a connection between the children, their drawings, and the creatures manifesting in reality."

Dean, Sam, and Saia followed the room numbers down the hallway until they reached the door corresponding to the teacher's name on the children's artwork. Dean knocked on the door, but before there was a response he entered the room, flashing his FBI badge.

"Morning, ma'am. We're Special Agents investigating the recent illness and unusual events in town. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

The woman, a young and beautiful teacher, looked up from her desk, surprised by their sudden entrance. She composed herself quickly and greeted them with a polite smile. "Oh, of course. Please come in, my kids are currently at lunch. I'm Miss Wilson."

As they stepped further into the room, Saia rolled her eyes at Dean's instinctive flirtatious behavior. Sam caught her gaze and offered an apologetic smile, silently acknowledging his brother's tendency.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Wilson. I'm Agent Smith, and these are my colleagues, Agent Thompson and Agent Anderson." Dean beamed a charming smile at the teacher.

Saia and Sam flashed their badges as well, emphasizing their official role in the investigation.

"Nice to meet you all. How can I assist with your investigation?"

Sam took the lead, while Saia observed the conversation, ready to interject if necessary. "We're investigating the recent illness that has affected several students in this school. Have you noticed any changes or unusual behavior among the children?"

“Do you have any idea what might be causing this fatigue? Any unusual circumstances or events that could be related?" Sam would press.

Miss Wilson thought for a moment, her brow furrowing. "To be honest, I'm not sure. It could just be a combination of factors, like the change in seasons or the stress of schoolwork. I've been trying to provide them with a supportive environment and encourage rest."

Dean leaned against a desk, observing the teacher with a skeptical gaze. "You haven't noticed anything else out of the ordinary, strange occurrences, or any connections between the illnesses and other events in town?"

Miss Johnson shook her head, genuinely unaware of any additional details.

"Alright well we appreciate your cooperation, Miss Wilson. If you notice anything unusual or have any new information, please don't hesitate to reach out to us." Sam would hand the teacher one of his contact cards

Miss Johnson expressed her gratitude and promised to keep them informed if she came across any relevant information.

As they left the office, Saia turned to the brothers with a concerned expression.

As the group left the school, Saia's demeanor appeared contemplative, her mind clearly preoccupied with something. Dean and Sam noticed her distant expression and exchanged a concerned look before Sam spoke up.

"Hey, Saia, you seem lost in thought. Is everything alright?"

Saia’s behavior unwavering "I'm not sure... Something didn't feel right in there. I caught a familiar scent, but I couldn't quite place it.."

Dean furrowed his brow, curious about Saia's heightened senses and the potential significance of her observation. "What kind of scent are we talking about here?"

Saia paused for a moment, contemplating how to describe it. "It's hard to explain, but it was something... alluring. Like I've encountered it before but I just can’t seem to figure it out."

Sam nodded, understanding the feeling. Dean pondered for a moment before making a decision.

“Alright, here's what we'll do. Sam and I will visit the homes of the affected children, talk to the parents. Saia, you can head off to do some research, see if you can find any information about creatures that have the ability to bring art to life. Let's meet back at the motel in a few hours."

Sam and Saia nodded in agreement. “Oh and let us know if that nose of yours remembers where they sent came from.” Dean would holler as he and Sam jumped into the Impala and Saia starting walking in the opposite direction for the motel. Saia simply gave a wave as a reply.

As the evening sky grew darker, Sam and Dean found themselves parked outside the last house they had visited. Dean reached for his phone and dialed Saia's number, putting it on speaker for both him and Sam to listen in on the conversation.

After a few rings, Saia's voice came through the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Saia. We just finished talking to the last of the parents. A few of them mentioned that their kids have been having nightmares, and it's been affecting their sleep." Dean was loosening his tie as he spoke.

Sam's brows furrowed as he listened, intrigued by the potential connection between the nightmares and the creatures they had encountered. "Nightmares... Could it be that the creatures are somehow manifesting from the children's dreams rather than the artwork itself?"

There was a moment of silence as Saia absorbed the new information and adjusted her perspective on the situation. "You might be onto something, Sam. If the nightmares are indeed connected to these manifestations, it would explain why the creatures disappear after they're defeated and the ones who aren’t disappear by morning. I'll adjust my search criteria accordingly and see if I can find any thing associated with dream manipulation."

Dean nodded, impressed by Sam's insight and eager to learn what Saia would uncover in her research. "Alright, we'll head back to the motel soon, but we're going to grab some food first. We'll be there in about thirty minutes."

Saia acknowledged their plan with a determined tone. "Alright, I'll continue my search. Stay safe, and don't forget the barbecue sauce for my burger."

Dean chuckled, knowing Saia's love for the sweet-tangy flavor, and Sam joined in with a light laugh.

"You got it, Saia. See you soon." Sam would assure her of her request.

With their conversation concluded, Dean ended the call stuffing his phone into his pocket. He started the engine, and the Impala roared to life, its headlights cutting through the darkness.

As Sam and Dean sat in the car, waiting for their food at the drive-thru, Sam couldn't shake off the nagging thought that had been bothering him. He had observed a pattern in their group dynamics that he couldn't ignore any longer.

“Hey Dean, we need to talk about something. It's been bothering me for a while now."

Dean glanced at Sam, sensing the seriousness in his voice. "What's on your mind, Sammy?"

"It's about Saia. Have you noticed that whenever we split up, you always make sure you're not paired up with her? Even if it means going solo."

Dean's eyes darted to Sam, a defensive expression briefly crossing his face. "What are you talking about, Sam? That's not true. We split up all the time."

Sam scoffed at his brothers blatant lie. "No, Dean, think about it. Whenever we divide the tasks, you always find a way to avoid being with Saia. It's been happening for a while now. Saia noticed it too. Remember when we were helping Angelique? She pointed it out then"

Dean's grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he looked away, avoiding Sam's gaze. “Look, I've been doing this for a long time. I know how to divide and conquer. It's not about not trusting Saia. It's about strategy.”

Sam's frustration was building, and he couldn't hold back any longer. "Strategy? Come on, Dean! We should be looking out for each other, especially Saia. She's proven herself time and again. Why do you always keep your distance?"

Dean's jaw clenched, his voice tinged with annoyance. "It's not about trust, Sam. It's... It's just different with Saia.” Dean stopped himself from speaking any further.

Sam's eyes widened, realizing what Dean was implying. Sam scoffed again, louder, and was astonished. "Are you serious? That's the reason? You're uncomfortable with her not being human? Dean, you have the literal King of Hell on speed dial!"

Dean's frustration was plainly written as he defended his stance. "It's not that simple, Sam. We've dealt with so much demon crap, but Saia is on a whole different level. It's hard for me to wrap my head around it sometimes."

Sam shook his head disappointment mixing in his voice. "Dean, you welcomed her to our family. You can't let that be a barrier between us. Saia deserves better than that."

The tension between the brothers escalated, their voices rising in an intense argument. "I'm just trying to protect her, Sam!”

"From what Dean? You? Because she has proven herself to be just as tough as either of us. She's strong, and she's chosen to be with us.” Sam’s words oozed with spite on Saia’s behavior; despite that Sam knew what he said about his brother wasn’t true, but it still stung.

The argument reached its peak, both brothers frustrated and exhausted from their conflicting perspectives. They fell into a strained silence, their emotions weighing heavily on them.

As they finally arrived at the motel, Sam and Dean got out of the car without uttering another word. The tension hung in the air, unresolved and lingering between them. They each grabbed a bag of food and headed to their room, where Saia awaited them.

As Sam and Dean stepped into the motel room, their expressions strained and their voices carrying an undertone of tension, Saia's eyes immediately fixated on them. She noticed the rough atmosphere enveloping the brothers, sensing that something had gone awry. With genuine concern in her voice, she approached them.

"Hey, what's going on? Did something happen? You both look... tense."

Sam and Dean exchanged a fleeting glance, knowing they couldn't hide the evidence of their recent disagreement. Sam, always the peacemaker, took a step forward, trying to ease Saia's worries. "It's nothing, Saia. Just a minor disagreement. We're fine now, really."

Saia's eyes moved from Sam to Dean, who remained silent, his focus on arranging the food on the table. She could sense that something significant had transpired between the brothers, despite their attempts to downplay it but Dean’s silence spoke volumes.

"Are you sure? It seems like something more... serious.”

Sam stepped forward, trying to reassure her with a reassuring smile, hoping to alleviate Saia's concerns. "Honestly, it was just one of those brotherly arguments. We'll sort it out. What about you? Did you find anything on the case?"

Saia, still uneasy from the tense aura radiating from the brothers, nods her head. “I think we might be dealing with a Dreadspawn. It's an entity that feeds on fear and manifests nightmares into reality."

Dean finally spoke up, his voice calm but tinged with lingering tension. “Never heard of ‘em.”

“They're ancient creatures, rare and extremely dangerous. Are you sure about this?" Sam was standing with his arms crossed, his face scrunched in concern.

Saia took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before explaining the nature of the Dreadspawn to Sam and Dean. The weight of the situation was evident in her voice as she spoke.

"Guys, the Dreadspawn is actually manifesting creatures directly from the children's nightmares. Those drawings are representations of what they have been experiencing in their dreams."

Sam furrowed his brow, trying to process the information. "So, the nightmares the kids have been having are becoming real? That's why they're exhausted?"

Saia nodded, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. “The Dreadspawn feeds off the essence of the children while manifesting these creatures, draining their energy and leaving them exhausted. That's what the familiar smell was in the classroom. It was the essence the Dreadspawn was consuming."

Dean leaned forward, a mix of concern and confusion on his face. "But why these kids? And how does the Dreadspawn even find them?"

“According to this The Dreadspawn preys on the vulnerable and the innocent, especially children. Their active imaginations and fears provide a rich source of monsters and nightmares for the Dreadspawn to exploit. It feeds on their essence and grows stronger with each manifestation." Saia reads from her source on the laptop.

Sam's eyes widened as he began connecting the dots in his mind. "Wait a minute... If the Dreadspawn is manipulating the nightmares of the children, wouldn't it make sense that it would want to be close to them? Gain their trust?"

Fear filled Saia’s voice after hearing what Sam had said, but her eyes never left the laptop. “Sam… It can adopt a charming demeanor to gain the trust of its victims.” Saia finally looks up to the boys.

“And who would have more access to all these children than their own teacher?" Sam would ask, though it was more of a statement then a actual question. Sam motioned to Saia for the laptop which she passed over to him. Sam took it to the table and began typing away.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed as he considered the possibility. "You think the teacher is this Dread- thing?”

“All the children that have fallen ill and whose nightmare’s according to their art have been seen in town, are from the same class. The manifestations started about 3 weeks ago.” Sam paused and spun the laptop around for Dean and Saia to see. On the screen was the school web page welcoming Miss Sarah Wilson to the staff as a new teacher, 3 weeks ago. “Right around the times Miss Wilson showed up.”

Dean leaned back, his expression turning grim. "Alright, let's not waste any more time. How do we kill it?"

“The usual Iron, and off with her head.” Saia informed them.

The trio gathered their belongings and prepared to face the Dreadspawn disguised as the teacher.

They arrived at the school under the cloak of darkness, their weapons prepared and determination etched on their faces. They stepped out of the impala, the cool night air sending a shiver down their spines. Saia couldn't help but voice her skepticism as they prepared for their confrontation with the Dreadspawn.

"Dean, why do you think the Dreadspawn would just be hanging out at the school? It seems too risky."

Dean glanced at Saia, a smirk playing on his lips. "Call it a gut feeling. Sometimes my instincts lead us in the right direction, Saia."

Saia raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of Dean's gut feelings. "A gut feeling, huh?"

Sam interjected with a chuckle, offering a small defense of his brother. "Hey, let's not underestimate Dean's gut feelings. They've gotten us out of some pretty tight spots before."

Dean grinned at Sam's support, as he closed the Impala’s trunk. "See, even Sam knows I'm usually right."

Saia rolled her eyes but couldn't hide a slight smile at the banter between the brothers. She knew that despite Dean's penchant for relying on his instincts, they had proven reliable in the past.

With their weapons loaded with iron bullets and blades at the ready, the trio approached the school's entrance. The dim glow of the moon provided just enough light for Sam to pick the lock to the door. As they crept through the halls, their senses heightened, they knew that the Dreadspawn was lurking somewhere in the shadows, waiting to strike.

As the group silently maneuvered through the dimly lit halls of the school, they reached a junction where they had to split up. Dean, using hand signals, directed Saia to proceed forward and explore the upper floors, while Sam was tasked with searching the right wing. Dean himself ventured towards the left wing, each of them focused on their assigned area.

Saia carefully followed Dean's instructions, her Kitsune senses attuned to any sign of danger or the presence of the Dreadspawn. As she ascended the stairs, a distinct scent filled her nostrils; essence. The smell sent a shiver down her spine.

Saia moved stealthily, her steps barely making a sound as she followed the trail of essence. She navigated the corridors, her keen senses guiding her through the labyrinthine layout of the school. The scent grew stronger, indicating she was getting closer to her target.

Saia's heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of excitement and apprehension filling her. She knew the Dreadspawn could be dangerous, cunningly lurking in the shadows. As she turned a corner, Saia's eyes widened. There, standing at the end of the hallway, was a figure bathed in darkness. The Dreadspawn had revealed itself, and Saia prepared herself for the impending confrontation.

As Saia stealthily approached the Dreadspawn, her grip tightening on her machete, a chilling laughter echoed through the hallway. The Dreadspawn's taunting voice filled the air, piercing through the tension.

“Did you really think you could catch me off guard, little Kitsune? Oh, how naïve of you.”

Saia froze in her tracks, her eyes narrowing as she realized her attempt at surprise had been futile. The Dreadspawn turned to face her, a sinister smile spreading across her face. It was the same woman they had encountered earlier, the one posing as the teacher.

“I've known who you truly are from the moment we met. And I've been aware of your presence in my town since you first set foot here. It's amusing how long it took you to piece everything together.”

Saia clenched her jaw, a mixture of anger and frustration burning within her. The Dreadspawn's arrogance was palpable, reveling in the knowledge that she had manipulated the situation to her advantage. “You won't get away with this. We know what you're doing to the children.”

“Oh, dear Kitsune, the children are merely pawns in my game. Their fears and nightmares are the fuel that sustains me. And now, it seems I have you and your hunter friends right where I want you.” As the Dreadspawn's words hung in the air, a sudden eruption of gunfire shattered the silence of the school halls. Echoing through the corridors, the sound of multiple shots reverberated, accompanied by the shouts and cries of both the Winchester brothers and unknown voices.

Saia's heart raced as panic washed over her, her immediate instinct to rush towards the source of the commotion and aid her friends. But before she could take a single step, the Dreadspawn materialized in front of her, blocking her path with a wicked grin plastered across her face. In that moment, realization struck Saia like a bolt of lightning.

“You set this all up... ”

“Very perceptive, Kitsune. I needed to isolate you, to remove you from the hunters.” The evil glint in the Dreadspawn's eyes sent a shiver down Saia's spine. She could feel the weight of the situation pressing upon her, the gravity of the danger they were all facing. But Saia refused to succumb to fear.

“You may have orchestrated this, but I won't let you succeed. You underestimate what I'm capable of.”

The Dreadspawn's laughter filled the air once again, mocking and cruel. “Oh, my dear Kitsune, you truly think you are the target here? I’m afraid not my dear.”

As the confrontation between Saia and the Dreadspawn escalated, the creature's confident demeanor remained unshaken. Saia, her Kitsune abilities awakening, could feel the power surging through her veins as her eyes glowed with an ethereal red hue. With a series of graceful and precise movements, she launched herself into a fierce battle against the Dreadspawn, who fought with a reckless and aggressive style.

Their clash echoed through the hallways, the sound of metal meeting flesh and the hiss of supernatural forces colliding. Saia's machete sliced through the air with deadly accuracy, while the Dreadspawn retaliated with vicious strikes, leaving deep gouges in the surrounding walls.

Despite Saia's prowess, the Dreadspawn's words lingered in her mind. Confusion mixed with her anger, fueling her determination to uncover the truth. With a surge of adrenaline, Saia seized the moment and managed to overpower the Dreadspawn, pinning her to the ground. Hovering above the defeated creature, her blade pressed against its throat, Saia demanded answers.

“Why are you targeting the Winchester brothers? What do you want with them?”

The Dreadspawn's wicked grin twisted into a sneer, the arrogance in her eyes still evident even in her vulnerable position. “Ah, dear Kitsune, you are but a pawn in a larger game. The Winchester blood holds secrets and they are a threat to our kind, and I am merely the instrument that delivers them. Tell me why do you side with them?”

Saia's grip tightened on her machete. “Tell me who sent you, who is pulling the strings!” Saia refuses to play her games.

The Dreadspawn's laughter filled the air, and a haunting echo reverberated through the hallway. “You're already too late, little Kitsune.” A grin spread across the Dreadspawn's face as she whispered. “The Alpha has them now, they are already gone.”

Saia suddenly realized that the commotion from below was gone, other then her own breathing the building was once again silent. With one swift motion Saia plunged the blade threw the Dreadspawn’s neck, allowing her head to roll away from it’s body.

Saia's heart raced as she hurried through the corridors of the school, the weight of her victory against the Dreadspawn still fresh on her mind. The adrenaline coursed through her veins, urging her onward as she desperately searched for any sign of Sam and Dean. Panic mingled with determination as she called out their names, her voice echoing through the empty halls.

“Sam! Dean! Where are you?”

But the only response she received was the eerie silence that enveloped the school. The absence of the brothers' voices and the sound of their footsteps sent a shiver down Saia's spine. She rushed from one empty classroom to another, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a mix of fear and frustration.

Saia's thoughts raced as she considered the possibilities. Had the brothers been captured or injured? The unknown fueled her determination to find them, to ensure their safety.

As she reached the final corridor, a chilling breeze brushed against her face, sending a shiver down her spine. The sense of dread intensified, and Saia's steps quickened. Her Kitsune senses heightened, allowing her to detect the faintest traces of whiskey, gun powered and blood in the air.

“They were here... I can still smell them.”

Saia cautiously followed the lingering scent of whiskey, gunpowder, and blood, her Kitsune senses guiding her through the dimly lit corridors of the school. With each step, the scent grew stronger, mingling with the musty air of the abandoned building. Her heart raced in anticipation, her mind focused on finding Dean and unraveling the mystery that surrounded him.

As she rounded a corner, Saia's sharp eyes caught sight of a lifeless body on the ground. It was a vampire, beheaded with precision. Recognition flashed in her eyes as she knelt down to examine the remains. The distinct scent that had mixed with Dean's became clearer. It was the scent of the vampire, the one who had posed a threat to her friend. The pieces of the puzzle began to come together as Saia recalled the Dreadspawn's mention of an Alpha.

She knew the danger that lay ahead, facing an Alpha vampire would be no easy task. Yet, with a resolute expression on her face, Saia pushed forward, following the trail of Dean's scent.

“Dean? Dean? You still with me?” Sam would call to his brother though he was struggling to speak. “Hold on, Saia will find us.” His voice lower in volume as he spoke.

“Damn right.” Dean had to pause to take a deep breath. “We’ve been through worse.”

As they speak, the sound of footsteps echoes through the underground chamber, indicating the approach of the vampires. The brothers brace themselves, their battered bodies tensing in preparation.

“Still holding on to hope, Winchesters? Your little friend won't find you. Our wards have kept her and your angel buddy at bay.” The vampire would laugh as he entered the room lined with angel and demon wards. As the brothers hang in the dimly lit cell, their bodies battered and weakened, their spirits remain unyielding. The chains digging into their wrists, the pain from the countless injuries, and the draining of their blood only fuel their determination to survive.

Saia drove the Impala with determined focus, the engine purring beneath her as she crossed the Georgia state line into Tennessee. The scent of Dean's whiskey, gunpowder, and blood still lingered in the air, guiding her on her mission to rescue the Winchester brothers from the clutches of the vampires and their Alpha leader.

As she neared the vampire's nest, Saia's mind worked tirelessly, formulating a plan to ensure the safety and success of the rescue mission. She knew she couldn't take on the vampires alone, especially not the formidable Alpha. She needed backup.

“Cas, I need your help.” Saia would speak into her phone giving Cas the short of it all before planning to meet up.

Finally, after two days of relentless pursuit and planning, Saia arrived at the vampire's nest. The scent of danger and the presence of malevolence hung heavy in the air. She parked the Impala nearby, keeping her senses sharp and her weapons within easy reach.

Saia cautiously steps into the dark forest, her senses heightened as she moves through the shadows. The sound of rustling leaves and distant howls fill the air, adding an ominous atmosphere to her mission. As she navigates deeper into the forest, her eyes catch a glint of moonlight reflecting off a glass dome lying flat to the ground.

Curiosity piqued, Saia approaches the glass dome and kneels down to get a closer look. Her heart skips a beat as she peers inside, her eyes widening at the sight before her. Sam and Dean are chained to a wall, their battered forms evidence of the torment they've endured. Relief washes over Saia, knowing that her intel was accurate.

A sudden sound cuts through the night air. It is the unmistakable fluttering of wings, coming from her left. Saia's glance to the side, her eyes catching the sight of the angel Castiel standing there, his expression calm and unreadable. His presence alone carries a sense of power and purpose.

Another sound breaks through the night, this time from her right. It is a swooshing sound, the unmistakable arrival of Crowley, the King of Hell. He stands there with an air of nonchalance, his hands casually tucked away in his pockets, but there is a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

The presence of these two powerful beings, one an angel and the other the King of Hell, sends a shiver down Saia's spine. She knows they have arrived to lend their assistance, though their motivations may differ. It is a delicate balance between the forces of Heaven and Hell, united in their common goal to aid the Winchesters.

Saia, standing tall and determined, turns to face both Castiel and Crowley. The weight of the plan they have devised hangs heavy in the air. With a mix of concern and determination, she voices her question, "Are you sure this plan will work?"

Crowley, the King of Hell, smirks confidently as he responds, "Rest assured, darling. This plan is foolproof. The vials in your hands contain summoning for both the Angel and myself. Breaking them will allow us to bypass the wards and enter the cell."

Castiel, the angel, nods in agreement, his expression stern and determined. "Indeed. The wards will be rendered useless. Once inside, we will grab Dean and Sam, fly to the Impala, ensuring the their safety."

Saia nods. “Thankfully it doesn’t seem as though the vamps included holdings for either of you so you should have no trouble leaving.” Thinking it all over again as she turns to the glass dome. "Alright. I'll proceed into the nest and make my way to the brothers. Once I break the vials, you two will handle the extraction while I hold off any vampires attempting to interfere."

Castiel places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Stay strong, Saia. We will be right behind you."

Saia stands before the glass dome, her eyes focused and determined. She rotates her neck and shoulders, loosening up her muscles as she prepares for what lies ahead. Crowley watches her with curiosity, intrigued by her next move. He can't help but ask, "And how do you plan on entering the nest and find Squirrel and Moose?"

Saia smirks confidently, her grip tightening around the grip of her pistol. "Simple," she responds, her voice filled with conviction. "I'm taking the most direct path."

As she speaks, Saia raises her weapon and points the barrel at the glass dome. Without hesitation, she pulls the trigger, the gun shot shattering the glass into a thousand fragments. The shards cascade down, creating an opening for Saia to jump into.

In a swift motion, Saia leaps into the now open hole, disappearing into the darkness below. Crowley watches in awe, impressed by her audacity and skill. He chuckles and remarks, "Well, well, well, not bad, my dear. Not bad at all."

Castiel's expression remains unchanged, his focus unwavering. He observes silently, understanding the risks involved but trusting in Saia's capabilities.

As the sound of the gunshot echoes through the air, Sam and Dean's attention is immediately drawn upward. Their eyes widen in surprise as they witness the glass dome above them shatter into a cascade of falling shards. Instinctively, they close their eyes and turn their heads away, shielding themselves from the rain of glass that follows.

Gradually, the sensation of falling glass subsides, and Sam and Dean cautiously open their eyes. Before them, in the midst of the shattered glass, stands a figure, poised in a striking and familiar "superhero" landing pose. As their eyes adjust, the features become clearer, and Sam and Dean's expressions morph into a mix of disbelief and relief. With her swaying tails and twitching ears, Saia raised herself from the "superhero" pose, standing now tall and confident, her eyes filled with determination. The weariness and pain etched on Sam and Dean's faces begin to dissipate, replaced by a glimmer of hope.

“Saia..” Sam beaths a sigh of relief.

"About time you showed up," Dean jokes, a hint of gratitude lacing his words.

As Saia stands tall and confident, her back turned to Sam and Dean, her gaze fixated on the five vampires that stand before her. The realization dawns upon her that the situation is far more challenging than she initially anticipated. She knows she must act swiftly and decisively.

Ignoring Dean's joke, Saia remains focused on the imminent fight that is about to unfold. With a determined expression, she readies herself for the oncoming battle. Gripping her twin sai tightly, she feels the weight of the blades in her hands, reassuring her of the power she possesses.

As the vampires rush towards her, Saia's eyes narrow, and a faint red glow begins to emanate from within. With swift movements, she dodges their lunges, demonstrating an exquisite display of agility and grace. Her every strike is precise, aiming for the vulnerable spots, always targeting their necks.

Saia's movements are fluid, her body in perfect sync with her weapons. With each calculated strike, a vampire falls, their life force extinguished. Her skills as a fighter shine through as she dances through the fray, her focus unwavering.

As Dean and Sam watch Saia fiercely battling the vampires, their eyes widen with astonishment. At first, they are captivated by her incredible agility and skill, but soon their focus shifts to the subtle changes in her appearance.

The room is dimly lit, and as Saia moves with fluidity, her eyes catch the brothers' attention. A crimson glow emanates from within them. It's a sight they have never witnessed before in her.

Dean's gaze narrows, his curiosity piqued, as he notices the sharpness of Saia's canine teeth. They seem more pronounced than usual, resembling fangs ready to sink into prey. He exchanges a quick glance with Sam, who shares his brother's astonishment.

The brothers' attention then shifts to Saia's hands, which have morphed slightly. Her nails appear elongated and pointed, resembling sharp claws capable of inflicting serious damage. It's a striking visual transformation, one that speaks of the latent power dwelling within her.

As Saia continues to fight, her Kitsune heritage becomes more evident. The brothers catch glimpses of her true nature emerging, a fusion of human and supernatural prowess. The Kitsune features blend seamlessly with her determined countenance.

Sam's eyes widen with a mix of awe and concern, his mind racing to comprehend the implications of what he is witnessing. They knows that her heightened abilities come with their own set of challenges and dangers; though what they are has yet to be determined.

As the last vampire falls, Saia stands victorious, her Kitsune features fully revealed, a moment of hesitation washes over her. She can feel the weight of Dean and Sam's gaze upon her, and a flicker of uncertainty lingers in her heart. She wonders how they will react to this unveiling of this side of her, fearful that it may alter their perception of her. Hesitant to face them fully, she steals a quick glance from the corner of her eye, hoping to catch a glimpse of their reaction.

In that fleeting moment, Saia observes a range of emotions flickering in Sam and Dean's eyes. Caution, confusion, and astonishment dance across their faces, intertwining with the awe they feel towards what they just witnessed. Their silence speaks volumes, leaving Saia on the edge of uncertainty. Doubt lingers in her mind, overshadowing the exhilaration of her unleashed power.

Sam and Dean notice her hesitation but neither can pull their eyes away. In Saia's eyes, they see the glow of her Kitsune essence, a mesmerizing crimson hue that reflects the depth of her hidden power. Her canine teeth, now sharper and more pronounced, hint at the otherworldly nature residing within her. The elongated claws on her fingertips speak of the fierce strength and agility she possesses.

Dean, known for his quick tongue, struggles to find the right words to articulate his thoughts. His brows furrow as he tries to make sense of what he's witnessing, attempting to reconcile the extraordinary with the familiar. His guarded expression reveals a mixture of caution and curiosity.

Sam gazes at Saia with an intensity that could cut glass. A hint of concern blends with his astonishment.

Neither Sam nor Dean utter a word, their silence stretching as they process the extraordinary scene before them. Their eyes remain fixed on Saia, unable to tear away from the sight that both captivates and confounds them.

Just as it seemed Dean was about to speak the sound of clapping hands echoes through the cold cell, Saia, Dean, and Sam immediately snap their attention towards the source. Emerging from the shadows with a theatrical flair, a dark skinned man dressed in an impeccably tailored suit stands before them, his presence exuding an air of authority. The Winchester brothers recognize him immediately—the Alpha Vampire.

The room grows tense as the Alpha Vampire continues to applaud Saia for her prowess in defeating his offspring. The trio's expressions harden, their resolve undeterred by the presence of their formidable adversary.

The Alpha Vampire offers a sarcastic apology, his voice dripping with venomous amusement, acknowledging the prolonged captivity of the Winchesters. His words strike a nerve, provoking a heightened sense of defiance within the trio.

With a condescending smile, the Alpha Vampire reveals his true motivation for keeping them alive—their blood. He explains that their countless experiences, from Dean's demonic transformation to Sam's angelic possession and their myriad deaths and resurrections, have made their blood a highly sought-after commodity in their world.

The gravity of the situation sinks in as the Alpha Vampire underscores the value placed on their blood by various factions and entities. His explanation serves as a chilling reminder of their vulnerability and the reason why their captor refuses to release them.

Saia's eyes remain locked on the Alpha Vampire, her stance unwavering as she prepares to make her move. In a swift motion, she throws two small vials towards Sam and Dean's feet, the glass shattering upon impact. A blinding flash of light accompanies the arrival of Crowley, who materializes next to Dean with a cocky grin on his face. While Castiel materializes beside Sam, his expression stoic as ever.

“Took you long enough.” Crowley hollered to Saia.

Dean, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected appearance of the King of Hell, raises an eyebrow.

"Cas?” Sam's eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the angel.

The Alpha Vampire's expression twists into one of displeasure as he witnesses his captives being freed. Saia's gamble to summon their allies is paying off. Crowley & Castiel wastes no time, efficiently unchaining Dean & Sam while providing support to their weakened state.

“She’s going to regret that.” Crowley’s voice seemed to carry genuine concern as he watched Saia. With a swift blink, Crowley and Dean vanish from the cell, reappearing in the safety of the Impala, ready to make their escape. Following suit, Castiel grabs Sam's arm and vanishes, leaving Saia with the Alpha Vampire seething with frustration.

Saia remains in the cell, standing her ground against the enraged Alpha Vampire. Her eyes lock with his, a silent challenge in her gaze. She knows that she must ensure he doesn't interfere with the escape of Crowley, Castiel, Dean, and Sam. Her determination radiates from her every fiber as she stands tall, ready to face whatever may come.

In the blink of an eye, the scene shifts to the Impala, where Crowley, Castiel, Dean, and Sam materialize. Dean and Sam, still weakened and visibly concerned, waste no time in demanding that they go back for Saia. Their worry for her safety is evident in their voices as they lean against the Impala.

"Now, now, boys. Let's not be foolish. You're in no shape for a rescue mission." Crowley’s tone was filled with practicality as he interjected.

Castiel, his expression unreadable as ever, watches the brothers closely. Castiel places two fingers on each of Dean and Sam's foreheads, his angelic power surging through them. In a matter of seconds, their wounds are fully healed, their strength restored. They exchange grateful glances, as they check over themselves with pats to their bodies.

"And why, pray tell, would you do that NOW? They are just going to run off and play Heroes thanks to you." Confusion fills Crowley's face as he looks at Castiel, questioning his sudden intervention, his voice seething with annoyance.

"Damn right we are.” Dean would speak up with conviction before Castiel could reply, all while moving around the side of his car to the trunk for weapons.

"Look, boys, I understand your concern for Kitten, but returning to the vampire nest is walking right into the Alpha's trap. He wants you there, and it's not for a friendly chat." Crowley tries to speak to Dean and Sam as they move about the car.

“Crowley has a point, his interest in your blood is cause for concern." Castiel would nod agreeing with Crowley.

"I don't care what his intentions are. We can't leave her behind. We'll figure it out when we get there." Dean's resolve remains unwavering.

“How did you two even get down there in the first place?" Sam, pausing for a moment, interjects with a thoughtful expression.

Crowley smirks, leaning against the Impala as he begins to explain. "Kitten was very persuasive over the phone. So I provided summons for both me and the Angel. Kitten created the vials that allowed us to bypass the wards and enter the cell."

Dean raises an eyebrow, not entirely surprised by Saia's resourcefulness. "And how did she manage to convince you, Crowley?"

Crowley, rolling his eyes playfully, retorts, "Let's just say her argument had a certain flair, and I have a soft spot for you boys."

Sam chuckled and shook his head in amusement and amazement, there aren’t a lot of people who could convince the King of Hell to work with an Angel to save the Winchesters.

“Let’s move Sammy.” Dean walks by.

“That wont be necessary Dean.” Castiel intervenes, causing them to stop in their tracks. The confusion evident on their faces, they turn to look at Castiel, awaiting an explanation. However, before Castiel can say a word, he disappears in a flutter of wings, leaving the brothers momentarily perplexed.

But their confusion quickly dissipates as Castiel reappears, Saia draped over his shoulders. Dean and Sam's eyes widen in astonishment and relief as they see their exhausted friend in Castiel's arms. Carefully, Castiel sets Saia down against the rear wheel of the Impala, her body visibly marked with bloody cuts and bruises. The Kitsune features that had previously been on display have receded, leaving only her ears and tails visible.

Sam's eyes widen with concern as he rushes to Saia's side, kneeling beside her. He carefully supports her and assesses her condition. Saia appears worn-out, the exhaustion etched on her face is evident.

Dean remains rooted to his spot, his expression a mix of confusion and uneasiness. He struggles to comprehend the sudden turn of events.

"What just happened, Cas?" Dean, unable to contain his curiosity, breaks the silence as he glances at Saia who is fighting to stay awake.

"Saia used one of the vials to call me to her. When I arrived back in the cell, the Alpha Vampire was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a colossal vampire, unlike anything I have ever encountered before. Something entirely unknown." Castiel, his expression calm yet weary, begins to explain. Concern and anxiety fill his voice.

Dean's brow furrows, concern etched across his face. "That doesn’t sound good…"

Sam, realizing the toll the recent events have taken on Saia, speaks up, concern lacing his voice. "Cas, can you heal Saia? She isn’t doing to good over here."

"I'm afraid my vessel is greatly drained at the moment. Healing Saia now would be risky. I have pushed it to its limits; gather the necessary ingredients for the summoning, bringing both you and Saia back, and healing the two of you." Castiel's weary eyes meet Sam's, a hint of regret in his voice.

Crowley steps forward, his tone dripping with a mix of amusement and annoyance. "Well, if I'm no longer needed here, I suppose I'll be on my way," he announces, preparing to leave.

However, Dean quickly interjects, blocking Crowley's path. "Hold on a second, Crowley. What did Saia promise you in exchange for your help?" Dean's eyes narrow, his voice holding a hint of suspicion.

Crowley feigns innocence, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Now, now, Dean. I have no idea what you're talking about. I simply offered my assistance out of the goodness of my own heart. No need for promises or bargains."

Dean refuses to back down, his voice firm and direct. "Cut the crap, Crowley. We both know you don't do something like this without getting something in return. So spill it."

Crowley's smile widens, the mischievous glint in his eyes unmistakable. "Oh, Dean, always so perceptive. But I'm afraid I can't reveal the details of our arrangement. Let's just say it's an exchange that benefits both parties involved."

With that, Crowley winks at Dean and in a blink of an eye, he disappears, leaving Sam and Dean exchanging a concerned glance. Dean's suspicions linger as they contemplate the hidden motives behind Crowley's actions. They know better than to fully trust the King of Hell, but for now, they can only wait and see what repercussions may arise from their mysterious arrangement with Crowley.

End Chapter

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thedreadvampy · 2 years

Text

I'm putting together my approach to go back to the doctor again for the first time in 5 years to have the My Body Has Chronic Don't Work Syndrome Please Diagnose Me

however I'm really struggling to put into words the Why I Want A Diagnosis of it all. If you have a chronic illness (I'm specifically pursuing an EDS diagnosis), particularly if it's one for which there's no direct cure or treatment, what's your reasoning for wanting a concrete diagnosis? All takes are useful - physical impairment/pain stuff is the most useful but anything (other physical issues or neurodivergences) will help me get my brain moving.

I mostly tbh just want to know what it is and what to expect. I want to be able to say 'i have these symptoms bc I have EDS.' when Ido physical activity or start a new job or seek medical attention I want to be able to say 'here's a heads up about what my needs are and why.' and tbh I want. validation for the fact I've been in nearly constant pain or neuro fog since I was like 8 years old. bc even though I know it's real there's a big difference between a set of subjective symptoms and a label. like. feels like every few weeks I discover another thing that Isn't A Problem For Anyone Else and it's been literally 20+ years I've been just Getting On With Things.

(it would also help a lot with my sibling's diagnosis, if either of us can get a formal diagnosis it'll smooth the road a lot for the other one and they're a Lot iller than me)

#red said #my partner who is in med school is gonna sit down with me and workshop a plan of attack #at the moment we're making sure to note down every time anyone observed something that's like Bodies Shouldn't Do That #like if i wake up in the morning and say hoho my shoulder hurts and won't move normal shit #they're like RED PUT IT ON THE LIST IMMEDIATELY #PEOPLE'S BONES DON'T POP OUT WHEN THEY SLEEP #I'm 2 giant post it notes deep a week in so it's going well #also of course some of the more. private stuff that only i can really pick up on. I'm also listing #like where my organs don't work or where normal amounts of friction like brushing my teeth or wiping my arse cause skin tears and bleeding #OH THE GUMS BLEEDING IS A WHOLE THING #always assumed i has chronic gingivitis but a) dentists observe when i do have gingivitis which isn't super often #and b) my mum also can only use soft toothbrushes for the same reason #PUT IT ON THE LIST

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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

Text

white wolf: “the show must go on”

first part — second part

third part — fourth part (soon)

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it’s a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 1'9k.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being so innocent gives me life. + he being so damn cute as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Have plans with your girl tonight?”

Bucky clicked his tongue, putting down the weight to the holder, not turning to Sam still doing squats and an awkward noise out of breath. His partner couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and giggle while shaking his head, fast enough to steal the soldier's clean towel before he reached it.

“She's not my girl”.

“Not yet, you mean, uh?” He joked then, using the clothing like a whip to hit the metal arm. “But, you have plans or not?”

“Yeah, we have plans”. Bucky admitted eventually, glancing at Sam also stealing his bottle of water. “She invited me to watch a movie”.

It was the innocent and unworried tone of voice from him that made Sam choke, cough, and laugh at once.

“What?”

“Oh, man… Can't believe you're sinful enough to do what we do but too innocent to not see what that means”.

“It means we're gonna watch a movie”.

Bucky was confused at the laughter, trying to understand what he was referring to as he rested his back against the wall and crossed both arms over his chest. Expecting anything else from his wise friend.

“This is the twenty-first century, you ancient. We don't watch movies”.

“What d— What do you mean? You have Netflix, HBO, Prime Video… What's the point?”

Sam was deadpanned, staring in silence at the soldier, not believing what his ears were hearing. “We, guys, don't watch movies with girls, even less when they are the ones inviting us”.

Bucky squinted at him, tilting his head like a lost poppy would do, not being able to read between lines. His partner gasped exasperated, running a hand up and down his face.

“You know, man? Sometimes I feel alone, not having anyone to laugh with about that forties' manners of yours. Should I call Sarah, maybe?”

“Cut the show”. He hissed standing up and passing him away.

“Oh, no, no, no… the show has just started, man, and I have my popcorn ready”.

Bucky had been beating around the bush the whole day, trying to let it out of his mind. Of course, it was something that would happen sooner or later, and —more than of course— he wanted it to happen. The mere fact of thinking about you and him, flesh against flesh, hearing you moaning his name and making you feel good caused him goosebumps and an awkward sensation beneath his black jeans. Suddenly, swallowing saliva turned impossible, biting his lower lip while ringing the intercom of your apartment. Your response didn't last more than a couple of seconds, opening the door downstairs and waiting for him at the entrance of your apartment.

The butterflies fluttered within your bellies when Bucky stepped out of the lift, showing you that charming smile that could make you kill anyone who dared to erase it from his face.

“Trying to get me drunk?” You joked as he raised the bottle of red wine in his left hand.

“Maybe?”

“Missed you today”. You whispered at the soft kiss on your lips and his arm getting wrapped around your lower waist.

“So did I”. He sighed, sounding a little tired, caressing your nose with his.

Yesterday he talked to you about a routine medical check-up the government used to do every six months until he earned his pardon. Four hours of intense exercise to make sure the supersoldier serum was still doing its effect, as he started to feel somewhat tired since he stayed in Wakanda. For Bucky, it was really easy to open up himself with you and talk about his past and some of the things he did. And he didn't complain when you helped him to take off his leather jacket, watching him rubbing his left shoulder.

“I, uh… also was this morning with Sam. Training”. He told you, following you to your kitchen to find a couple of glasses. Turning at him, you couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Don't look at me like that… I know to perfection what you're thinking”.

“You're a telepath now?”

“God, no. I have enough with the voices inside my head, to hear someone's else”. He chuckled resting against the fridge. “But you're very expressive and I was trained to read body language”.

“So, what am' thinking?” You asked driven by curiosity, entertained on opening the bottle of wine.

“Look at this guy… He looks hotter than a barbecue”.

You broke into a loud laugh, shaking your head as you grabbed the drink and the glasses. “Not even close, Sergeant”.

“Liar”. He blurted into your face, passing him away to the living room where the Thai takeaway was waiting for the two of you.

“I'm not lying! You're a lousy body reader”.

“So… you can do it better, uh?”

“Didn't say so, but… yeah”. You replied, placing the wine and the glasses on the coffee table next to the big green sofa.

“Okay, go ahead. What am 'thinking, genius?”

Standing in front of him, some inches away, you squinted at his eyes in advance of touring his posture from top to bottom with your orbs.

“Look at that girl… she's hotter than a volcano”.

“Not even closer, soldier”. Bucky repeated your words, kissing his teeth and causing you to laugh again.

“Liar”.

The night went on, enjoying your dinner and watching the first part of Scary Movie. Since Bucky told you that he loved the horror genre, you thought that it'd be a good start. As you finished the Thai dishes, you two cuddled on your sofa, and it felt nice to be embraced by his muscly arms and had your head rested on his shoulder. He had never been that happier before, imagining for a moment —staring at you by the corner of his eyes— that he wasn't a retired lethal assassin controlled by a bunch of psychos, just a guy watching a movie with his girl.

For some reason that increased his pulse, having to clear his throat as the thought dried it. You couldn't let it go, wrinkling your nose with curiosity, raising your face slightly at Bucky trying to focus on the movie, and pretending everything was going okay.

“What?” He murmured about to laugh nervously, putting his head back a couple of inches to look better at you.

“Seems like you're gonna have a heart attack, what's the matter?”

The soldier breathed heavily through his nostril, expelling all the air in a sight through his parted lips. A lower giggle escaped them as your eyes widened a little more interested in his response to your question.

“Sam… Sam said something this morning”.

There it was. Your grimace turned skeptical, sitting up to borrow the control remote and pause the movie. Turning to face him and placing an arm on the headrest, you puckered your lips in a funny gesture watching him click his tongue.

“Things are different nowadays and… y'know, we used to watch movies”.

“And that's what we're doing”.

“Yeah, but… it's like… now there are some kinds of non-speak social rules”.

You knew exactly what he was referring to and seeing him somewhat troubled and tense just made your heart melt. It wasn't that he was scared, but it almost felt like.

“Is it your first time since the forties?” You dared to ask, clearly with no intentions of making fun of him.

“I've never really… y'know, I was in my twenties when I left Brooklyn. I me— mean, 'm not stupid, okay? I've done things but not… sex like… to the whole point”. Bucky didn't have his eyes on you when he made that confession, rubbing the bridge of his nose by inertia as his nervousness increased. “And now everything… is pretty different”.

“It doesn't have to”. You just replied, stretching a hand to his right one to intertwine your fingers. “Listen, Buck… We don't have to, okay? We don't have to do anything if you're not ready. We can watch the movie and then… you can go, or you can stay to sleep with me”.

“I'd like that”.

“Leave?”

“Yeah, totally, if you excuse me, ma'am… I gotta leave” He clearly joked, about to stand up until you pushed him down to the sofa bursting in laughter. “Nah, I, uh… I mean, I'd like to sleep with you tonight”.

“I'd like too, and to wake up tomorrow morning with you”.

“Yeah, would be very awkward if you go to sleep with me and wake up with another guy in your bed”.

Bucky smirked at you, biting his upper lip before leaning to press both on yours. He couldn't believe you were being so comprehensive with him, not making any other uncomfortable questions, nor kicking his ass out of your house. At that moment, he realized he was madly in love with you, bringing you closer to himself so he could embrace you tenderly between his arms. And you let him, not wanting anything else than to be with him.

At the moment the movie finished, you both stretched your hands to the ceiling with a yawn opening your mouths. You palmed his thigh to beckoning at him, urging the soldier to follow you as you rubbed your eyes using your knuckles, a little sleepy. Turning off the lights on your way to your room, you changed your clothes for a baggy Iron Maiden's t-shirt, as he stripped himself leaving his clothes on the chair in front of your bed, only wearing a pair of black boxers at the end.

You were about to ask him which side he preferred when the words died on your tongue, glancing at him with his flesh hand over his dark grey shoulder. It was the first time you saw the vibranium arm in all its glory and Bucky gave you the impression of being embarrassed. He'd never stop surprising you with plenty of emotions for things that for you didn't have any importance actually —like the fact of not having two real arms.

“Come here”. You murmured, kneeling on the mattress and palming the other lateral, observing every one of his actions till lying next to him, in the middle of the gloom of your room.

Covering both of you with the sheets and turning on your sides to face each other, Bucky took the initiative of wrapping you close to his chest, as he placed his head on your pillow. He couldn't help but take a soft breath from your heavenly smell impregnated in, provoking a smile to grow on your lips. Surrounding his neck with your arms, you sunk your fingers in his short hair, gently caressing his scalp while you started to spread tender short kisses all around his face.

“This feels good”. He purred with such a pleased tone of voice, closing his eyes as he adventured his warm hand under your shirt to draw invisible patterns on your back.

“So good”. You affirmed, peppering his cheek with a bunch of noisy smooches.

Bucky squeezed you between his grip, hiding his face into the gap of your shoulder and neck, causing you goosebumps because of his exhalation against your skin. He was comfortable being that close, with no distance separating your chests and your legs intertwined in a bundle. You saw how relaxed he was when he pulled his head back to the pillow, noses touching and his eyelids closed.

“Good night, Buck”. You whispered, still feeling his caresses on your back, leaning to kiss him one last time.

“Good night, doll”.

a / n: i hope you have enjoyed the fluffiness of these three chapters because the fourth is gonna be... chaotic.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

and support writers with a REBLOG!!! 🤍

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fluff

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bontenten · 3 years

Text

Efficiency

Pairing: Daishou x f!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings/Tags: smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, light degredation, aftercare, established relationship

Thank you so much @/bakatenshii and @/thirstyforthem2dmen for beta-reading. This is a repost from my main after it went fully sfw. Originally for the hqhq (now Anilysium) hard at work collab.

Pen scrawls and keyboard taps sound throughout the conference room as your boss goes over current client projects. Daishou is sitting across the table and you notice he's wearing the tie you gave him for his birthday last year. Looks good, you think to yourself. It's not just the tie, it's his entire outfit, and him.

Daishou notices your lingering stare and makes eye contact, granting you a cheeky grin and a head tilt. Pompous bastard. In response, you send back an expression of mock disgust before turning your attention back to your laptop.

For any newcomer at the firm, it might seem like the office is split down the middle into either your camp or Daishou's, with opinions and jabs on completely opposite ends of the spectrum. Why else is there so much spite being tossed around between the two of you, if not due to a deeply entrenched layer of grievances?

It might leave the newbie confused as to why Daishou affectionately calls you his "most significant problem". Or why you preface notes to him with, "to whom this may piss off, my royal pain-in-the-ass".

Then there comes a revelation to the newbie that you and Daishou are not mortal enemies, but rather the most wretchedly in-love couple in this skyrise building. It's a bad decision to cross either you or Daishou for any matter. Not only are the both of you perfectly vindictive, crossing one means submitting an application to be on the blacklist of the other. There's no doubt, in your humblest opinion, that Daishou, even if he'll never outright admit it, absolutely worships the dirt under your heels. And when you are in remotely a good mood, fine, you don't mind his coffee breath either.

It's heartwarming, that in this tower of cold, hard stainless steel and immaculate glass panels, there's love floating around the disinfected air of money, money, and more money. When it counts, you can be sure that Daishou will stand on the same side of the fence as you.

While the meeting goes on and you multitask with the spreadsheet open on your screen, you think you hear your name being tossed around. To your knowledge, everything is lined up already and unless there is some sort of overnight emergency, there's absolutely nothing left on your plate to take care of.

At the same time, there is also the off-chance that someone decides to drag you into hell with them and include you in a project. Now, who could possibly have the audacity to put you into the wringer with them?

"Daishou! Excellent, I'll leave this to you," the boss exclaims. "This pitchbook needs to be done by tomorrow. It's high urgency and the client just sent the numbers in."

A sinking feeling begins to churn in your stomach. You pause your frenzy across the keyboard and pay attention to the meeting to hear the rest of what Daishou has to say.

"If I may," Daishou curtly asks with a smile that's a tad too wide, "I'd like to work with Y/N on this. As you know, we work best together. It'll be done before the meeting tomorrow."

You can feel everyone's eyes turn to you in the meeting room, begging you to please say yes to the man holding titles such as your boyfriend, co-worker, and also 'royal pain-in-the-ass'. You force a smile and match Daishou's client-ready, saccharine expression. "Of course, we'll have it done tonight."

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the entire meeting room relaxes by ten notches. Bastards, all of you.

"Our firm's best duo!" the boss praises, "We'll leave it to you two then. Meeting adjourned."

It's the two words everyone has been waiting for. The moment the syllable falls, the conference room is filled with the sounds of shifting seats and scuffling feet eager to leave work for the day. With a huff, you shut your laptop and see Daishou coming around the conference table with his laptop and files tucked under his arm. He adjusts and tugs on his tie.

"Guess it's you and me again tonight," Daishou comments.

"And here I wanted to leave work early for once."

"Hey, just a special date night. It's called 'overtime', sounds pretty sexy don't you think?"

You snort and walk past him, going towards the direction of the elevator. Daishou eyes your figure strutting down the hall. The lines of your ironed shirt and the pencil skirt that hugs your figure perfectly match the echoing clack of your heels striking shiny tiles.

Even if you don't remember, Daishou's impeccable memory absolutely remembers how the last time you paired that shirt and that skirt together, it was an overtime situation very much similar to tonight. And the cock that's starting to grow hard in his slacks certainly remembers a lot more. He can feel it twitching just trying to conjure up the sensation of your gummy walls milking him in the breakroom a month ago.

"You coming or what?"

Daishou sees you holding the elevator door open and waiting for him. Daishou won't ever admit to this, maybe to you in privacy, but Daishou will rather be dead than admit to anyone else how lucky he feels to have someone as incredible as you in his life.

He takes a few quick steps and enters the elevator.

"How sweet," he coos. "I knew you wouldn't just leave me hanging and working in this dismal place all alone."

"Shut-up, Suguru," you snap, but you lean your head against his shoulder anyway. It's been such a long day already, and the night is only going to be longer.

"Stay the night at my place later? I'll order your favorite."

"Let's get this project over with first."

"I caught you staring at me during the meeting."

"Huh, is that so."

"Practically stripped me naked with your eyes. Ooh, I felt tingles all over."

You lift your head from his shoulder. "You're so full of yourself Suguru," you remark before tugging on his tie to pull his face closer to yours. "If anything, I think you're the one getting hard at work."

Daishou leans in even closer. A hand encircles your wrist and his thumb brushes your inner-wrist across the bump of the vein. Your pulse is throbbing against his fingertips. You feel your adrenaline and anticipation rushing through your body as your heart pounds harder and faster.

"Then do something to help poor lil' me out?"

"At your place later, we—"

"But I want you so badly right now," Daishou breathes out, body tight against you so you can feel his straining desires through the layers of fabric. "I want—

Ding.

The elevator opens up to the floor the two of you work at. The co-workers waiting for the lift can only see two pristine and exemplary office workers without any semblance of dishevelment walk out. Daishou even says a polite "see you tomorrow" to them.

"If only the elevator stopped working," you joke after taking a deep breath to swallow the fire building in your core. "Sly snake, no one here in the office knows your true colors."

Sometimes, you wonder just how Daishou can switch his persona so quickly. Or maybe he just likes the precarious edge of being horny at work.

"Love you too dear," he sneers.

A couple workers are still at their desks scrambling for their deadlines. You and Daishou take a seat at your work stations and begin to chip away at the urgent, overtime project. Every now and then, you'll say good-night to the other remaining co-workers finally able to go home. It doesn't take long before the halls are completely vacated and empty except for the two of you still slaving away in front of the bright monitors for hours into the night.

"Where are you going?" you ask Daishou who is returning to his seat after disappearing down the hall again. "This is the third time in the last hour. Are you shitting in the toilets or dumping all the work on me?"

Daishou comes by your desk and leans on the back of your chair. "Just making some phone calls. Want to go home now? It's getting late."

"Uh...work's not done yet."

"It's fine, let's have dinner first, we can just work remotely at my place. The bulk is done anyway."

You glance at the clock and ponder Daishou's offer. It doesn't hurt to leave a little early and continue the work later in a more comfortable setting. "Okay, let me pack."

After cleaning up the workstation and packing everything the two of you will need, you and Daishou are back in the hallway waiting for the descending elevator.

Daishou takes the heavy tote bag from your shoulders. “I’ll hold onto this,” he explains.

“Why so nice today, Suguru? First luring me over with food, the compliments, and suggestions to leave early…” You trace a finger along the line of his spine and observe, pleased with the nervous grin spreading on his face. “Someone’s losing patience, hm?”

Daishou gives you an ingratiating smile. “Princess, as fancy as our work is, we still work in client-services. What can I say, I live to serve and please.”

“Cheeky.”

The elevator arrives and the two of you enter the space.

"How long do you think we still need?" you ask Daishou.

"Must we talk about work, right now?"

"You're just horny, Suguru."

"Oh, so it's 'just' me, is that what it is?"

You shrug and admit, "Nah, I was wondering why you didn't suggest anything earlier when the office was empty."

"Baby, if you wanted me that bad, you should've just climbed on my lap."

You laugh at Daishou's retort and prepare a comeback. "I think—"

A loud screech sounds through the elevator and the lights flicker briefly before a jolt causes you to stumble. Your hand automatically flies to the handrail. Daishou also wraps an arm around you tightly to steady your balance.

"Is the..."

"Seems like we're stuck," Daishou comments.

You rapidly press the service bell button, but it's no use. "No one's picking up, it's like the signal got cut. Should've just taken the stairs!"

The cell signal is also terribly weak in the elevator space. There's nothing else to do but wait and see how things play out.

Daishou laughs dryly and smooths his hair back. "We work on the 18th floor, since when do we take the stairs?"

"There's that one evacuation drill..." you reply weakly.

Daishou raises an eyebrow, giving you a look that says, really now?

"You're right, we're doomed. Last moments and—"

"With the love of your life, isn't that pleasant a way to go?" Daishou tightens his arms around you. "Don't worry, it's all going to be okay."

You reciprocate and respond to his hug, while your brain searches for a solution. "I once saw on the internet that if the elevator drops, you have to time your jump right before the elevator hits the ground floor. Otherwise—"

"Shhh," Daishou shushes you quietly with a quick kiss. He rocks you from side to side and reassures you again that everything is okay.

"Trust me, it'll be okay. Let's just have a little fun while we're waiting," he suggests one hand already tracing up your thigh. "Maybe it'll relax all those nerves you've been holding onto."

Daishou wants to laugh. Whose nerves exactly? Do you have any idea how he’s been counting the minutes and seconds for this moment while you innocently worked on the project like the good, model worker that you are?

It took everything in him to somehow put down a few excel formulas and not shove the monitors onto the floor to fuck you senseless across the worktables. Not to mention, the pleasure of having those witty remarks that spurt out from that little mouth of yours replaced with incomprehensible whines and begs for your precious Suguru to fill you to the brim. And now that you also admit to thinking along the same lines earlier, Daishou knows the dirty little thoughts clouding into your mind already.

Some slut that you are, acting proper and put-together at work, basking in the praise from co-workers and the boss; they just don’t know how ten minutes after those morning touchpoint meetings, you are bouncing on Daishou’s cock in a hidden corner while the financial markets open for the day. It’s an art, really, the number of quicks you two manage to fit into the crevices of a busy office schedule. But that’s why Daishou is one of the best employees of the firm. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

The patterns Daishou's fingers trace tickle and send shivers up the skin. His low voice and hot breath across your ear elicits a soft gasp as you press your thighs together in the tight, figure-hugging skirt, seeking some hidden relief for the needy throb inside. The scrap of fabric down there is barely able to soak up the wetness beginning to pool. You are pressed up against him for comfort and security, your breasts plush against his chest. Each inhale and exhale you take is a test of patience.

"T-there's a camera," you remind him through shaky breaths, eyes flickering to the black mechanism in the corner. This is your final thread.

Daishou eyes the camera that is staring expectantly at the tryst about to happen in the cramped space with a wicked grin. Like that has ever bothered you, but if you want to play coy, he’ll humor you. He pinches the soft flesh on your thighs. "But we both know you're an attention whore. Always wanting to be the center of attention?"

You bite your lip to stop a whimper and look away, unwilling to admit that Daishou is completely right. You're already squirming in anticipation and delight. How cute, Daishou savors before deftly undoing the first two buttons of your crisp blouse. He has all of your clothes memorized, and how to take them off in the least amount of steps. At this point, it's completely second nature, and even if it isn't, the particular outfit you are wearing today has a special pedestal in Daishou's memory of interests. He pulls the tucked fabric apart to expose your delicate neckline and the soft curves of your breasts in the bra.

Oh, this one? What a coincidence then. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and deeply inhales the scent of your lingering fragrance. His hot breath and tantalizing lips drag across your collarbone, brushing your sensitive skin.

"So fucking sexy. Let's put on a show shall we?"

The thread snaps.

You harshly tug on the Daishou’s tie and capture his lips with yours. Daishou presses his body even closer, resting a forearm right above your head to cage you against the elevator wall. You wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair, as you meld into the searing kiss. The zipper of your skirt is tugged and the fabric is pushed up to your waist. His hand snakes up your thigh and a thumb hooks the side of your panties, pulling the soaked scrap down.

"Step," he instructs, pulling your panties down all the way and guiding your heeled feet out. "Don't want them dropping on the floor," he says, tucking the bunched fabric into his shirt pocket.

"Touch me, please," you beg, pulling Daishou back to you. You grab his hand and lead him to between your legs, grinding yourself against his thick fingers for some relief.

“No need to rush, the elevator isn't getting fixed anytime soon," he coos, "We're not going to get distracted this time."

Daishou spreads your lips apart and rubs along your sensitive bud, coating his digits with your slick. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he marvels before slipping a finger in and then another.

Daishou pumps his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy, occasionally dragging over to circle your clit. "That's it, isn't it?" he groans, feeling your walls clench around his fingers when he finds the spot that has you falling apart into streams of whines and mewls.

Daishou withdraws his fingers and brings the glistening digits up for you to see. "How much are you enjoying this? Wanting to be fucked in an elevator, watched by who knows who behind that camera."

You whimper and watch Daishou take the coated fingers in his mouth, licking off every drop of you. "You taste so good," he breathes, before pulling you into a kiss and letting you have a taste of your own arousal.

You break out of the kiss and turn around, resting your hands on the handrail. "S-Suguru, want you in me," you beg. You bend over just enough for your Daishou to see how much more wet you've gotten from tasting yourself on him. Your glistening hole is dripping and desperately clenching around nothing.

"Patience, princess." Daishou quickly unbuckles his belt and lets the cock pressing against his tight slacks spring free. He prepares to give himself a few more strokes but you reach behind and slap his hand away, replacing the hand on his cock with your own.

"Fuck," he groans, bucking his hips into your hands. "Always the impatient one."

"Hurry...please."

The building anticipation is making your knees weak and head dizzy already. You keep both hands on the handrails for support and squirm over trying to better line yourself for that thickness you need to fill your hole.

"Shit, stop teasing me!"

Beep.

The emergency intercom you pressed when the elevator first malfunctioned finally lights up. The line connects after a moment of static and radio noise and temporarily shocks a thread of rationality into your thoughts.

"Hello? Hello? Are we connected now, finally? Hello? Can you hear me?" the voice urges from the other end.

"Ah-" you gasp out, feeling Daishou fingers draw out slow circles on your clit. You press your lips tightly together to muffle a moan.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me?"

Daishou leans next to your ear. "Answer them, sweetheart." The tip of his cock teases the entrance of your pussy, running along the wet lips. "Do well and I'll give it to you."

You manage, with difficulty, squeak out, "Y-yes!"

"Good girl."

Your legs buckle slightly when you feel Daishou's thick cock being pushed into you, finally giving you the gratification you have been craving during Daishou's ministrations.

"Oh, careful now, don't want you falling over," Daishou's grip on your hips tightens and he groans at how warm, wet and tight you are around him. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good," he mutters under his breath.

The speaker buzzes again. "Great, finally connected. Ma'am are you doing okay still?"

"Yes!" you cry out as Daishou gives a firm and deep thrust; a wave of pleasure shoots through you.

"Don't panic, our team is already coming—" The line disconnects as abruptly.

Daishou revels at how your soft walls hug and clench around him. By all means, he didn't expect the interruption happening at all. It seems like you are not the only impatient person, he wonders, before flashing a nasty look at the camera in the corner and flipping said object off.

"Come on, princess,” he encourages and pats the side of your ass lightly. “Let me hear how pretty you sound."

"Sugu—" you gasp out, feeling the tip of his cock rocking into you. "R-right there right, ah—"

"Yea, you like that?" Daishou groans, pushing into you again feeling your walls clamp around him so tightly. So perfectly. It's addicting and all he can do is thrust in and out, over and over again. Each time seeking out the sounds of your pretty moans when you are completely filled and stuffed with him.

Lewd squelches and the slaps of skin meeting flesh fill the elevator space, along with Daishou’s grunts and your pants. Your hips meet each of Daishou’s thrusts in perfect rhythm, taking his entire length until the base. You can feel each stroke dragging along your walls, the size and length of his cock pushing against your tightness and prodding your cervix.

Neither of you can bother with any other distractions now that bliss is just teetering on the edge. Daishou pulls out and turns you around so you face him. He then scoops you up from under your ass with your legs spread over his forearms and hoists you up against the elevator wall. You feel the stinging cold from the cylindrical edge of the handrail as a dubious support against your heated skin.

"Suguru!" you squeal out, "I'll fall! I'll—"

"I got you, don't worry," Daishou reassures, "You're okay, I won't let you fall."

Once he feels your arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Daishou slides into you again with a loud squelch.

"We're right outside now! Won't be long before we get you two out." A loud voice calls out from beyond the shut elevator doors.

"Smile for the camera, princess," Daishou encourages before picking up the pace, chasing the high that's just around the corner. His thrusts become faster and rougher, hitting your sweet spot deep inside you over and over again making your mind spin. The countless reflected images of Daishou's unrelenting pursuit and speed, and the expression of your fucked out face collide together in a blurry, infinite kaleidoscope.

“Gonna cum! Gonna-”

All thoughts leave your mind with each ragged breath as you near your own edge. You can only cling onto Daishou tightly, nails digging into his shoulder and back. You don't hear the sounds of mechanical whirring outside the elevator. Whatever it is that the people are shouting outside does not matter. The bright lights don't make any sense to you anymore. You don't even remember what Daishou Suguru looks like.

The blank stare from the camera is the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut, face tucked in the crook of Daishou’s neck, and body feeling like putty in his arms. All that's left is the euphoria sparking through and broken syllabylic babbles you struggle to utter out.

With a few final thrusts, Daishou grunts and pulls you completely flush against his hips, finally spilling himself into you. Release after a long day never feels this sweet, Daishou muses as he holds your languid body close. Each deep breath you take only pushes your soft breast against his chest, and Daishou can feel your spasming walls still hugging him. He peppers a few kisses on your sweat covered brow. So good, so fucking good.

The voices and mechanical whirs outside interrupt Daishou’s moment.

That’s right, we’re still in this damn elevator. Daishou carefully pulls out his softened and twitching cock and lowers your wobbly form down from your make-shift seat. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the drool from your face then lightly dab away the trail of mixed fluids seeping out of your puffy cunt. The overly saturated handkerchief does a poor job soaking away the mess the two of you made.

Daishou reaches for the crumpled panties he shoved into the shirt pocket, but decides against letting you wear it. In your current state, your legs are like a newborn deer, barely able to support you let alone try to maneuver into underwear.

"Once we get back to my place, I'll draw us a bath.”

The increasingly loud mechanical clamor and sounds of the elevator workers pull you out of your daze for a moment too. You try to fumble around and haphazardly button your shirt, but the buttons miss their proper buttonhole by one. You pout and look at Daishou who just buckled his belt and tucked in the edges of his crumpled shirt. He looks ready for a client meeting already, if not for the obvious smell of sex clinging into him.

Daishou chuckles at your state and helps you slip into his long coat. He kisses your brow again in apology. "Sorry baby, just bear with it for a moment."

"Hungry."

"Yes, yes. I'll order your favorite too, like I promised."

You nod, pleased with his answer.

Ding.

The doors of the elevator open, to the relief of the elevator workers outside. They were in the process of getting ready to pry the doors open, but it seems like the elevator is back to normal already.

"Sir, Ma'am, we apologize for our tardiness."

Daishou waves a hand. "Not at all, it was fine. My girlfriend," he nods to your hidden form in the coat, "a bit frazzled, that's all."

Daishou's coat is like a bathrobe and hides absolutely everything. Turn up the collar, hide your face in Daishou's neck, and no one can see the mess that you are still underneath the thick layer. If they don't look, they won't know about the cum that's already dripping out and trailing down the curves of your legs into your scuffed heels.

"Is she okay? If there are any problems, we can direct you to-"

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her. Thanks for helping fix the elevator." Not that there was anything wrong with it to begin with.

"We'll be inspecting all the elevators in the building as well. We assure you this will never happen again."

The musty smell of sweat and sex is all that lingers in the elevator, but it'll dissipate soon enough. Maybe there are tiny puddles of your juices on the tiles but the 5 A.M. cleaning workers will wipe it all away. By tomorrow, the elevator and rest of the building will be just the way it always is again. The stainless steel is cold, and the glass panels are pristine. In the early hours of the morning, leather shoes and heels will be strutting around on the marbled floors. Phone calls. Printers. Clients. Meetings. And more overtime.

Daishou smirks to himself, supporting just about your entire weight. His phone rings in his coat pocket. He reaches for the device and answers the call. Those bastards.

"Heh, glad you enjoyed the show you fucker. And tell Kenma, 'that was a dick move he pulled back there.'"

He listens to the response from the other line.

"Yea sure, thanks for hacking the system...uh huh, tell him to cum in your dirty sock-rag then...yea whatever, go eat shit."

Daishou ends the call and shoves the phone into his pocket.

"Su-gu-ru..." you mumble.

"Yes princess?"

"...Pitchbook..."

Daishou presses a light kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

Even all fucked out, you still manage to not forget about corporate responsibilities, some overachieving show-off you are. After getting you cleaned up and warm, he'll finish up any remaining work. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

#haikyuu smut #hq smut #daishou x reader smut #daishou smut #daishou x reader #tw exhibitionism #tw voyeurism #emi.freshtea #ch daishou #in celebration of cleaning up the main whooowheeewhoo #🍵.daishou

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years

Text

Kaz Brekker x fem! mute! reader - Dancing eyes

(Image not mine)

A/n: I just thought about this and here we are. Also! I will have at least two more imagines coming out today or tomorrow! I'm also sorry if I offended anyone I really tried to make a good representation of the reader and I did some research but I'm not mute so I don't know exactly what's that's like. So if you guys could tell me if I did anything wrong, just some feedback that would be nice!

Warnings: Mentions of trauma, death, angst, blood, gore, the reader is mute, fluff I think that's it? You have been warned!

Summary: Kaz falling in love with you

(The sign language is in italics bold!)

All rights go to leigh bardugo, netflix, and you! I just own the plot!

She was dancing when he first saw her.

She did a few twirls, her leg went into the air flawlessly into a arabesque to the side. It was powerful and controlled but it was graceful. The girl did a paw de chat and jumped high into the air turning around and landing with one leg behind her perfectly straight and pointed, one leg on the ground and her hands in front of her like she was presenting something to the audience.

The crowd clapped and applauded her but she did not smile, not till she did a low curtsy and while she did her y/c/e orbs meant his. Kaz's breath got lodged in his throat when he saw her beautiful eyes. Then they lit up like all the stars were in her eyes and her lips curved upwards forming a small grin.

Kaz shook his head, she wasn't valuable to the dregs so she wasn't worth looking for, so he turned swiftly on his feet and started walking towards the slat.

But you wish she was.

Kaz started looking for her everyday, and everyday she would be in her spot near the slat doing a dance. Her graceful movements often caught his eye and he would often find himself watching her from his window.

Weak.

But one day something else caught his eye about her, she had enough money for shoes and clothes, it didn't look like the girl ate much, barely enough to keep her alive. Thought still, she bought food.

Or did she?

He observed her in a different way now - for a week and to say the Brekker boy was surprised would be an understatement. The little dancer had been stealing.

Sometimes she would steal food, money, and do a few magic tricks here and there but the thing was he never saw her steal only saw the people leave with empty pockets.

Kaz could admit to himself that she was good, possibly better than him - which was dangerous. But could she kill someone? Maybe he could train her but he found he didn't want to force that upon the girl that danced outside his window everyday. Stealing food, money and even clothes sometimes.

Saints, I'm growing soft. Kaz thought to himself.

The next time he saw her was three weeks later well, the thing is he didn't see her outside his window dancing all day from 6:00pm sharp all the way to 3:30am.

He wondered how the girl slept.

He was limping down a street and he turned a corner only to hear a voice and it wasn't recognizable so he quietly limped over and peaked his head out.

It was the little dancer.

She had a grisha steel dagger pressed up against a man's throat. The man was trembling in fear, and the little kitten that once danced was gone and her claws were coming out.

"Please-please! I did can-can pay-pay you back! Please! I-I know people who-who can help!"

The man looked young but was definitely a sleaze ball, with his brown hair that looked like it was decaying, his round bodice, his fat arms and legs and he retched of alcohol and young girls.

He was nothing compared to the girl.

The tiger had a snarl on her face, but she didn't make a sound as she stabbed the dagger threw his forehead killing him. Then she pulled the knife and grabbed a piece of paper presumably writing something down on it.

She spun on her heels and she faced him.

Shit.

She just blinked at him and made some weird hand movements which Kaz identified as sign language.

Oh he did know what sign language was, he knew how to use it too.

If you wanted a show, you could have just asked dirtyhands.

The girl smiled when he rolled his eyes.

"I don't want a show, but I would like you to join the dregs." He said out loud in a monotone voice. She looked taken aback that he could understand her but she grinned even brighter that he could.

Of course. It's better.

She signs, using just those words and not adding anything else - just it's better. Though he knew actually what she meant.

"What are you. You seem to know your way around here, not to mention the stealing and killing."

I'm a assassin. I Trained somewhere... not in Kerch, and I escaped and went here.

Her signing his precise and graceful almost like her dance movements. She starts to walk away but she pause's and turn's to him.

You can call me Nemesis.

Then she walks away. He didn't even know the time or whether she was even going to show up. He didn't even know her real name - not a single thing about her real identity really.

Only that she dances.

After that day he dreamed of her every night. Sometimes she would be dancing outside or she was working on a job with him. On the occasion he would get a dream about her in a meadow holding up a flower and showing it to someone. But that seemed more like a memory more then anything because she looked younger - a child only five maybe seven.

He longed for the sleep.

Once after a job with the Crows she came to his room and her hair flowed down her back as she climbed into his desk chair while he was on his bed.

He didn't even hear her come into the room.

Writing something down on the paper she turns around and hands him it.

My name is Y/n.

That's when he knew she trusted him.

After that moment they slowly began to come together - slowly but surely. Whether it be a small brush of the hand or full on skin to skin contact they we're there and then they weren't. Technically, they weren't dating - not officially anyways but no one (not even the Crows) could find where Kaz or Y/n began or where they ended. It was like they we're on one big loop, they we're on person yet they we're different.

The first time he kissed her she was coming back from killing someone.

Y/n was his personal assassin, because of that she killed a lot of people and had to be never seen, no evidence, not always clean kills. But Y/n had already admitted to killing many people and she signed that she probably had killed more people in her childhood then he will ever tell her to kill in his lifetime.

So when she came back in tears after a murder he was rightly confused. Her bright y/c/e eyes we're filled to the brim with tears and the eyes that usually danced with emotions were almost dead looking. Though to Kaz they still looked beautiful.

That's not what she needs right now.

Kaz sat on the bed staring at the assassin that stood in the middle of his room, that looked nearly like the little dancer that he once thought she was. But her eyes looked shattered like glass spread across the floor in pieces.

He patted the room beside him on the bed and she reluctantly followed where his hand was and sat down. She kept her eyes cast down, and it killed Kaz to not see those beautiful eyes that danced. The only thing the left of her innocence in his opinion.

With an ungloved hand he lifted her chine up to his and slowly her eyes meant his. Her breath stuttered, she breathed in and started moving her hands using sign language to talk.

There was a child.

She started, always trying to get to the point fast enough.

They went up to me and...

Her hand movements came to an erupt stop and she slowly breathed in a breath preparing.

They called me a monster.

Kaz looks at her and the tears in her eyes. She needs comfort or something at least but he's not so sure he can give her that. He's not sure if he's even ready for that.

Yes you are. And Kaz could finally agree with the voice in his head.

He slowly brought their lips together and brushed them together in sync. He lifted his hand to go to her cheek and he stroked it. They pulled away, it was barley a kiss but it was enough.

"You could never be a monster Y/n." He whispered as their foreheads touched again.

__________TIME SKIP_____________________________________

Knives, arrows, and bullets were flying though the air. Some hitting people and some not. Kaz looked over to Y/n, he knew he shouldn't have brought her on this job.

She had an air of royalty around her, she killed whomever she liked out of the Blacktips.

That's if she granted them mercy.

If she didn't you would die a very painful death. Her hair was blowing in the wind making it look like she was floating, and for all Kaz knew about her, this girl was full of surprise's. She might as damn well been.

Her reflects were quick and graceful but deadly. Just how she dances. He thought. Her eyes were on fire and they seemed to burn everything around them.

She really was a Saint.

Focus. He scolded himself.

You can think about her more later and maybe tell her what you think boy. It was a different voice this time, and it vaguely sounded like his father but he pushed the thought away and kept on fighting.

The heist was over and he looked around for Y/n because usually on mission's like these they would go together and just sit. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes they would just enjoy each other's presences. It was all they needed, just a reminder for them that they we're still alive.

"Did you see Y/n." He said flatly not wanting to seem worried although he really was.

"Ya, I saw her slip away earlier she looked fine." Nina supplied.

He gave her a quick nod and started walking back to the slat. At the least he knew she was fine.

They couldn't find her.

It had been a week and she didn't show up, they were all desperately trying to find the assassin but she was no where to be found. She silent girl was gone, they didn't even know if she was captured or not.

After another week the others had given up saying if their was a lead they would be there. Then Kaz found a note on his desk.

Dear Mr Brekker,

Hello Kaz this is Y/n, so I'm sorry for doing this but it had to be done. I'm not captured no, and I'm safe for now no ones really safe in the barrel. I have many enemies and they will find out you and the Crows are my weakness and I can't have that. You mean so much to me in words I could never describe and it pains me so much to leave knowing - I love you. You are some much stronger than me and a considerably better person then I ever could be although you fight against that statement. You put your Armour down for me and I couldn't do that for you. I'm sorry.

May the stars watch over you,

with love Y/n

Kaz didn't know what to do, Y/n was gone the loop was broken and everything was back to the way it was. He closed his eyes and thought about her eyes - those dancing eyes.

Like for part 2!

Words 1930

-thedeluisonreaderbitch

#six of crows #kaz brekker #Soc #shadow and bone #grishaverse #inej ghafa #kaz brekker x reader #kaz rietveld #matthias hevlar #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #wylan van sunshine #crooked kingdom #x reader #Y/n #angst #fluff

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shoichee · 4 years

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I JUST FOUND UR BLOG AND WHEWWW UR AKASHI HC'S ARE SO CUTE AND WELL DETAILED!!! i literally love the complexity of his character and he's just a perfect human being omg and u write him so well!

ok so if it's not much of a hassle i was wondering if i could request a F!reader and she's shorter than akashi (we're talking like 4"10-5"0 or so?) and i think it's be cute to imagine how he'd tease her and such :) thank u!

EEEEE THANK YOU ANON, IM SO HONORED TO HEAR YOUR WORDS <33 detailed hcs coming RIGHT UP -- short and sweet, and I hope you enjoy this!

f!reader x Akashi

as the shortest player in the Generation of Miracles, or even basketball in general, he definitely understands the struggle of being underestimated at first glance… well, until they suffered an ankle breaker on the courts

that being said, he’s slightly more protective over you (or at the very least, keeps an eye on you) because he knows how some people can be nasty or judgmental, or maybe they’d take their comments too far about your height

why do I feel like he has the subtle vibe of “only I can tease you and no one else can?” it’s VERY subtle though, he’s exceptional at keeping that sentiment to himself

how much he teases you depends on how well and how much you can take teasing… are you sensitive? equally teasing? pouty mad? he observes to see where his boundaries with you are at // however, it’s important to note that his teasing is either mixed with such gentleness, amusement, and/or genuine concern

if you’re sensitive and soft: expect lots of fond teasing and gentle muses… like every time he’d kiss your forehead, temple, nose, cheek, WHEREVER he chooses to peck, he’ll slightly exaggerate his movement of bending down by the knees or dip his head to your level while giving that… all-knowing glint in his eyes and a slight curve of his lip

if you’re more of someone who’d roast Akashi equally hard or also like to participate in banter, he’d say things like:

“Hmmm? Did you say something, dear?”

“I got something for you, my love, since I noticed you haven’t eaten breakfast yet… I do worry for your health.” but he gives you a carton of milk? you’re not sure if this was intentional or not?????? but if you ask him, he’d probably go, “Is milk not the best thing to digest in the morning? I heard from the maids that it’s paired very nicely with cereal and oatmeal…” LITTLE SHIT LMAO

his overall comments and teasing regardless of your personality might be things like these:

“Are you having trouble with that, my love?”

“Careful. Don’t stretch yourself too much… allow me, darling.” and he would make a little show of getting something out of a high shelf for you

“Hm? Yes? You’ve left yourself quite vulnerable…” as he tries something funny behind you or trying to slink up to where you were at… “My love, I do worry about how anyone can easily overpower you so. After all…” he’d either whisper in your ear or peck the ear’s helix… “look how little you are in my arms. Though you belong only here by my side. Please don’t hesitate to call my name if anyone dares to treat you with anything less than the respect you deserve.”

HE’D DRAPE YOU IN HIS RAKUZAN JERSEY JACKET, NO ONE CAN DISAGREE it’s just… he finds it heart-melting that you’re drowned in the fabric and he just sees it as another part of himself hugging you when he isn’t around to hug you himself, if that makes sense

that jacket ironically repels any chance of you being picked on in school, because seeing that #4 on the jacket sends them running for the hills

lots of headpats, but they can be either fond and/or teasing depending on how you respond… bonus: they’re often paired with his comments

ALWAYS approaches you from behind to just RELISH IN THE FACT THAT YOU FIT IN HIS ARMS PERFECTLY, AND THAT LITTLE SURPRISE YOU DO EVERY TIME HE COMES UP TO YOU S E N D S him to HEAVEN

private moments with him entail him insisting you to be the little spoon, and it makes him feel like he’s protecting you please—

I’M CALLING IT RIGHT NOW, when you want to give him any kisses back, especially after he just kissed you, he’d stand a little taller and turn away his head at just the right moments while staring at your face out of his peripheral vision… before he’d say either:

*SAY NOTHING, JUST HIM DOING THAT LITTLE CHUCKLE*

“Oh? You wanted to reciprocate my affection? I’m truly touched…”

“Sorry, sorry. Of course I was teasing… you’re so adorable that I just couldn’t help myself.”

*ALL OF THE ABOVE… IN THAT ORDER.*

in public, there wouldn’t be as much teasing (surprisingly) as he would do behind closed doors or in the vicinity of trusted close friends

so in the eyes of the public, he’d only give a subtle huff of amusement or a grin when he sees you having trouble with something because of your height… or he’d say something about whether or not you can “see” or need any “help” LOL

honestly, if you roast him back about his height, you just declared war on the Rakuzan captain… HE ISN’T STOPPING HIS TEASING UNTIL YOU GIVE IN AND CONCEDE; HE SEES THIS AS A CHALLENGE AND WOULD APPROACH IT LIKE HE WOULD WITH SHOGI

You’re FLUSTERED about how he teases you? prepare yourself for EXTRA entendre comments about that too, merciless Akashi mode (especially if you try equally hard to make him “embarrassed”)

stop, he’d LITERALLY have a heart attack seeing you try to view his games from the front row but you can’t because of all the TALL reporters and cameras blocking the way and you’re just stretching your neck and trying to jump but without bothering the people behind you omg—

“How was the game, (y/n)?”

“Uhhhhhh… well.”

“I’m certain the flying cables were more entertaining to watch than the game, yes?”

“SEI—”

and he’d interrupt you with his usual chaste peck and say: “Forgive me. I didn’t realize that the courts would be that crowded. I’ll be sure to save you the best spots for future games. Just keep your eyes on me, my empress.”

#knb x reader #knb #knb headcanons #kuroko no basket #akashi x reader #akashi seijuro #akashi seijuro x reader #knb akashi #knb fluff #knb fic #knb fics #ore-akashi #oreshi #knb x y/n #akashi seijurou x reader #seijuurou akashi #akashi seijuurou x reader

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bunchofstraydogs · 4 years

Text

Dazai Osamu character breakdown as I understand him

Meaning that this might be inaccurate and your opinion and visage of him might differ from mine, which is just fine. We perceive the world and the people around us through our experiences and expectations. I'm curious to know how you guys see a complex character like Dazai, just please respect everyone's opinions.

Warning: Manga plot mentions, s2 spoilers, BEAST light novel spoilers, Dazai Osamu

Dazai Osamu was introduced into the scene of Bungou Stray Dogs at 14 when Mori found him.

Even at that young age, Dazai had suicidal tendencies and had been wrapped in bandages similarly as he is in the present. Already dealing with too much trauma for a child his age, the fire is fuelled as he was forced to bear witness to the death of the Port Mafia boss at the hands of Mori, the person that took him under his wing. To use him; which was becoming very apparent to Osamu if he hadn't been aware since the start. Now, I'm not saying that death of the previous boss left a particular scar on Samu, he even agrees with it and is something he himself would have done. But that that is the scene that bore fruit of the following quotes:

"Or could it be that you're afraid, Mori-san? That one day i will slit your throat and take over as the boss?"

followed by

"Everyone seems suspicious to those who have an axe to grind."

This tells us right away that he can tell what type of person you are just from the way you perceive your surroundings, which is logical, but not something many think too deep into.

Even less who have their evaluations of others on point like he does. And he has to, since Dazai's plan is always to understand his allies, his enemies, possible allies and possible enemies. He also takes into account important neutral parties that can still, in one way or another, affect the outcome of his plans or decide to align with one side out of common interest. After comes realising the main goals, along with side achievements (just in case some of those maim his allies or ruin the future plans he made) of every party. Taking in their morals and motivation, and being familiar with the ground the confrontation will happen on, he now has the view of the whole chess board and it's pieces in his head. He moves his allies in the right places, knowing how they'll react in the situation to come, and awaits the enemies with open fire arms. He was tought to think like that. At all times. Mori made sure of it. You know how specialists never really stop thinking in their areas of expertise, like doctors, for example, will naturally notice people's posture and look for scoliosis or whatever? How your foot hits the floor, if you're walking straight, your knees and shoulders, etc. Same for Dazai. His brain maps out person's expressions, reactions, choices, personality, etc. in great detail. I'm pretty sure he has eidetic memory, if his conversations in manga with Fyodor are anything to go by.

Another thing his brain does is think of worst possible outcomes.

Not in a fear of what if things go wrong, but as a possible route. He uses it to determine how big of a threat the opposing force is and what steps they'll have to take to achieve that. Knowing that, he'll know how to intercept them. Also, like everything else, it's not something he can control since we're talking about thought process here and that's just how his brain works. Can't magically turn that off. It's especially annoying to him when he's genuinely enjoying himself with, let's say, ADA members and then his brain goes brrr.

•"A lot happened recently and we're a torn in many people's eyes." *Tanizaki and Atsushi drinking punch* "There's a possibility, while a small one, about 8% at this very moment, but as time goes on will increase, that an organisation outside of Yokohama decided we're an unavoidable threat and poisoned the drinks. Don't drink that. Nothing will happen, they'll wake up tomorrow in pristine condition don't drink th-"

Yeah, i feel bad for him too.

He has PTSD and insomnia, besides the hectic brain,

so he's not getting proper amount of rest. Actually, he drinks almost every night by himself at home. Pretty sure it's canon as well, because if you search for a picture of him in his room, you'll see him surrounded by multiple bottles. Two of the PTSD symptoms are hallucinations and night terrors (no, that is not the same as a nightmare). What people usually do is use opium to cause hallucinations in a safe environment so that there's little chance of them happening uncontrolled. He's probably using alcohol to numb himself while he's reminiscing, since if he does still have hallucinations after years having passed by (which isn't impossible), they're probably few and far between. Not saying there's no chance he isn't using opium. He would know where to get what he needs, after all.

Osamu's haunted by his own actions as well, not just by trauma caused to him.

At an uncountable amount of occasions, he found himself looking into a mirror and not really comprehending his image. It was like dissociation. Looking through a fog at what's supposed to be your carbon copy, but not knowing all of your features perfectly, so whatever you're seeing could only be an impostor, yet you're not sure because that would take comprehending physical proof of your life to the fullest and how it works and he just... can't. He can but he doesn't want to. He already knows he's despicable and broken, doesn't really feel the need to see just how much. He can't, for all his perfect memory, remember the faces of the people he has killed. He hadn't even seen all of them, but he was responsible for their demise. Causing havoc and misfortune in general through other crimes besides murder as well. We've seen his expression when he listened in on Atsushi talking to Kyouka over the earpiece how the 35 deaths don't matter anymore. He knows they do and he knows that the change of heart won't justify what he's they've done. Ango thought him to value each life. But he also knows that even murderers can change and become good. Oda did that. It's also what's keeping him in the agency.

When Oda died, his last words mentioned that Dazai doesn't care about good or bad and that was correct for Dazai Osamu back then. I genuinely think that his present self does mind the difference.

He believes in necessary evil and will do dark shit to get the good outcome he's envisioned.

He doesn't separate outlaws and lawful people, however.

He knows that generally speaking, the line is thin and easy to cross and that many were born or forced into the situations they are. Those that fight the life thrown at them are an exception, not a rule. That's also why he likes Atsushi, probably the main reason. The boy has every right to hate the world and yet. Dazai is envious, he doesn't really have the same capacity.

I want now to talk about why does Dazai Osamu do what Dazai Osamu does.

The reason he attempts suicide, joined the mafia, made friends at all, is because for all his intelligence and observations, ability to understand others, he doesn't really understand himself.

He doesn't understand his worth. He doesn't understand his purpose. In all of that confusion, he finds no reason to live. He laughs but can't get the high, he bruises but can't fully heal. In all of the things people find happiness in he can't feel joy from. He is emotionally stunted. He thinks too logically. He doesn't understand actions out of emotions because to him, it doesn't make sense. Emotions cloud your mind and when you're not thinking straight, you make mistakes. Plain and simple. He just accepts it, that most people simply cannot control themselves and prefer lashing out instead of methodical approach. All the better for him, he has leverage. Even when he does act on impulse, which is incredibly rare and not as explosive and dramatic, his brain rationalises it as to why his actions were a good way to go. And if his reaction was one that bore fruit, than it was a tactical one.

"If you place yourself somewhere close to raw emotions, where you're exposed to raw violence and death, instinct and desire, you can brush against man's true nature. I though that way i could find a reason to live somehow."

From this, i can tell that he was hoping that, in a situation where he's pushed far enough, he'd realise what's important to him, what he wants to protect or destroy, what's one thing he wouldn't want to leave unsettled before dying. What is that one thing he'd regret dying before achieving? What should he fight death for. What is worth living on for? To him, it doesn't matter if that something is good or evil as long as he gets to keep it in his life.

It seems he hadn't found it exactly, but is satisfied with what he has for now, in the agency, to just keep going. But he still tries to commit suicide, hoping that one day, when the clear picture of the world around him is fading away, when he's becoming light headed from the lack of oxygen, when he's loosing control over his body and thoughts don't seem to flow well, there will be one thing, anyone, screaming at him to fight it. New day new chances. It didn't happen today, better luck tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomo-.

Now, like Mori, Dazai feels the need to, at all times, be in control of the situation. Including people.

That means no one, but perhaps Ranpo due to his own abnormal intellect, is aware of their own role. They know their mission, but they're not expecting to be given that particular one because they'll come across an obstacle they would react to in a way that would satisfy Osamu's plans.

Dazai Osamu is more of a chemist, than a chess player, if you ask me.

Throwing different people into the mix, under different conditions at different times and is noting down their reactions in safe surrounding if possible, so that when the time calls for it, he'll be able to make a perfect concoction for the predicament. A chemist and his substances; A chess player and his pawns; A puppeteer and his puppets. Now, Dazai is meticulous and never rash, but like everyone else (except effin Lovecraft what is he even) he's only human and he bleeds when he falls down and humans aren't perfect. He isn't always right. That means he makes mistakes. The issue with big shot players that control the board is that, when they fall down, everyone on their side crashes and burns as well. So the day Dazai fucks up everyone else will follow because of lack of insight on their part that's completely out of their control. All it takes is for him to underestimate or overestimate one person and chaos ensues. There is no such thing as happy little accidents small mistakes for someone like him. I have crippling anxiety and a sole thought that one hiccup could blow up in everyone's face... damn. I would try committing suicide myself. But it's his fault, he brought upon himself an obligation and pressure like that. To be fair, it was Mori that drilled that type of thinking where no one should know what you plan because they can't ruin what they don't know If they turn against you, they can't stop you.

For his own sake, and everyone else's, Dazai needs to learn how to show his cards and share the burden.

Again, going back to the emotionally stunted guy that has commitment issues (where he either can't commit or can't let go) trope.

He never outright does something good for someone where people would acknowledge it, he uses his underhanded tactics here as well.

He casually makes himself look like a bad guy, an asshole, to conveniently move attention from the inner turmoil a person is struggling with to a present problem at hand that they can fix and let their frustrations out on. But he hopes that, one day, someone just might notice his intentions for what they are and do the unspeakable- see through him.

"I'm a very private person. You don't ask, i don't tell."

Yes, and your whole existence is just a huge cry for help. He wants to be asked. He's begging for attention. A specific type of attention. One that will see him without making him feel imposed on. One that will understand his sins without making a big deal out of it. Accept him as a person he is, makes him feel like one as well. Makes him feel alive. Makes him feel... period.

The day he finds that thing is the day he completely turns his life around and fully dedicates to it. It's where the part of not being able to let go commitment issue ensues.

Since Oda's death he's been secretly keeping an eye out on possible ways to bring him back. If you've read Beast AU you know that when Dazai gets his hands on the book, he'll create a universe where Oda doesn't die. Should he find an ability user that can bring back the dead, just tell him what it will take, he's ready to destroy his own soul for it and if that isn't enough, well, he'll have no hesitation ruining theirs. After all, BEAST!Dazai Osamu never actually met Odasaku, he just had the memories he'd gotten from his canon self and that was enough for him to do everything he did.

He's incredibly selfish and has a weird come in but the door is a wall dynamic he rolls with in his self imposed solitude.

It's like the walls of the space in my brain are ugly and terrifying, so i closed off the entrance to keep myself in. I'm doing you a favour but please break the wall down and tell me it's okay to come out i don't want to be here-

Happy little thoughts woah woah yeah~

That's what i got from what I've seen of him. I may have missed some things, some things might prove to be wrong as the series progress further, but yeah.

There is, however, one more thing i want to put out here. Since Dazai was already like this before Mori found him, that begs to question as to why? What happened to him?

Now, since the characters are based on real people, is it crazy to say that Dazai Osamu has had a horrible childhood because of his father? Real life Dazai was terrified of his dad and was very intimidated by him. He always tried to stay in his good graces out of fear of punishment. Neither of his parents felt like a parent to him, actually. His father didn't care and his mother was often ill, but did care for him when she could. Both of them died eventually.

This could be the plot Kafka based Dazai's background on, but we'll have to wait and see.

#dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #meta #dazai osamu headcanon #dazai osamu headcanons #hc #hcs #psychoanalysis

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everythingsinred · 3 years

Text

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 2)

And we're back with more exciting and mean Natsume! Here we will further explore Natsume's life and how absolutely dark his existence is, as well as some very important aspects of his personality that will be useful to us when NatsuMikan starts picking up speed.

Again, I am warning people that this whole essay in general talks heavily about topics like bullying, child abuse, suicidal ideation, and depression, so if those are triggering topics, it might be better for you to not read.

Previously, we were introduced to Natsume and he has sent Mikan on a dangerous quest to the Northern Woods. During that trip, she and her friends have captured his one and only best friend, Ruka, which will not bode well.

Chapter Five

Chapter Five is instrumental for completing Natsume’s introduction, long as it’s been. Natsume is a mysterious character, and he will continue to be evasive and strange for many chapters to come, but by the end of this chapter, we will understand some basic foundation for his character.

The chapter starts with Ruka’s point of view, recalling a moment when he saw Natsume cry, presumably after a mission. Ruka wonders why it’s only Natsume that has to go through “this”, and Natsume tells him that he can take it--for now. He says he wants to grow up and be an adult, to be big and strong enough to properly escape this hell. This is a consistent wish of Natsume’s, and in many ways his only wish: to grow up already.

Higuchi really out here trying to convince us this was supposed to be a cheerful story.

Natsume had to be an adult, had to make the selfless and responsible choices for the sake of his family and for Ruka, had to abandon play and smiles and laughter for a life of secret missions and frequent hospital trips. He’s dying and he wants to be an adult already because he’s certain he’ll never be able to grow up. He wants his body to match the level of responsibility he’s had to take on, but he can’t force the outside to match the inside, especially when he’ll probably be dead long before it happens anyway. This wish evolves and changes when he falls for Mikan, but it doesn’t go away.

He associates adulthood with control, because his life at the academy has been observing the adults control and use him. He wants control for once, to be able to make a choice and even just say no.

Ruka notes that Natsume hasn’t cried at all since that night, and that he now keeps all his sorrow locked away. This kid needs therapy, immediately. This is another reason that Ruka is so precious to Natsume. Ruka is compassionate and kind, so concerned about his friend that he would also shut away his own heart so that he can’t be happy for as long as Natsume is in agony.

Natsume has a scene of his own, where he snaps at Permy for saying that Mikan is full of crap and lying about being an alice. He points out that the academy is not an easy place to lie your way into, and Permy immediately backtracks and lies that she’s agreed with him this whole time. Like I’d said earlier about the loneliness involved in being surrounded by fans who don’t really know or understand you, having people all around you bend over backwards for your approval makes it clear that they really have no interest in what you’re saying, just that you’re the one saying it.

In the anime essay, I’d pointed out that because of their admiration for him, it would elude people that Natsume is in fact lonely. He speaks out against things and people rush to agree, not really considering why he might say that. This is a similar moment, though he doesn’t seem too bothered by Permy’s behavior. It’s still concerning, but it’s interesting to compare this “yes, man” attitude to Ruka’s.

There is obviously a difference between someone agreeing with every word of your mouth no matter how much it changes and contradicts, bending over backwards for your approval, and someone wanting to match you out of compassion, but Ruka’s line of thinking does still have some major flaws.

Ruka is a child, just like the rest of them, so even though this behavior is motivated by love and compassion, it’s still immature and raises some questions.

“If you won’t smile, I won’t smile either,” is a sweet line, but now Natsume is aware that Ruka’s misery is his fault. If he wasn’t so sad, Ruka could be happy. This doesn’t make Natsume happy; it just makes them both sad, and that doesn’t solve any problems. Naturally, Natsume would never say that, and Ruka would claim he’s unbothered and--just like Natsume--that he doesn’t care about hanging out with the others, but they’re both miserable now, and I think this is part of the reason why there’s a gap between them at the start of the manga, and why they’re a bit distant, despite being best friends.

They’re each other’s most important person, but they don’t really communicate that well, and Ruka constantly feels like a burden.

Natsume needs something that Ruka can’t give him, and that something is what he’ll eventually get from Mikan.

That being said, at the moment, Natsume is getting nothing but irritation from Mikan. When he finds out Mikan and her gang kidnapped Ruka, that irritation turns into rage and we see a final fundamental building block for Natsume’s character: his berserk button.

Natsume doesn’t care about the reasoning or justification for the kidnapping. He doesn’t care about explanations or common sense.

His rage only increases when he discovers Ruka was tied up and even beaten (he is told this by a classmate, when Ruka is actually unharmed). The other kids in Class B--his admirers--are terrified to see how scary Natsume is when he’s furious.

Natsume's biggest weakness is Ruka so Mikan is kinda fucked.

He doesn’t care about the game anymore. He only cares about Ruka.

So he goes to the Northern Woods, where nobody is expecting him. He tells Mikan to leave the school, which… she cannot do, obviously. He is overtaken by rage and he ceases to be reasonable.

He uses his alice on everyone but Ruka, and is about to use it on Mikan, but her alice nullifies it. Then Narumi kisses him, prompting him to pass out.

Here, we are introduced to a consistent character trait of Natsume’s, one that may contradict all that talk about forced maturity and selflessness. In fact, Natsume’s habit to go absolutely postal on anyone who threatens a loved one is a contradictory one. Going into a rage requires the sacrifice of common sense and reason for the sake of complete emotional detonation, and as a result he fails to understand that his actions could inadvertently hurt his loved ones or innocent bystanders. No reassuring words are enough to calm him down, and sure enough Natsume will destroy something.

It’s important that we see this trait now, as part of Natsume’s informal introduction, as we will see plenty more instances of it later on. In a way, going berserk for someone can even be a love language of his, where if a person being threatened is enough to set him off, he probably cares about them.

And just as interesting as seeing what he does in these situations is posing the why! Why is it that Natsume goes ballistic in these situations, when it requires the loss of the one thing he wishes he had more of, control? My guess is that Natsume has had a rough childhood and much of that time was spent running away from a dangerous entity. Staying cool and calculated under some conditions would have its benefits, but so would the quick-action and confidence that Natsume would gain by going berserk. When you have to protect someone, and Natsume has been in that situation many times, then it’s sometimes even beneficial to be able to lose yourself for a moment or two. But perhaps it’s not that either. Natsume is, despite all his airs of coldness and mystery, actually a very emotional person, and in that way he is easy to understand. Even if this isn’t a habit he developed by watching his loved ones ripped away from him through either extortion, manipulation, or just plain murder, it’s still something he might be predisposed to: attacking with everything he has despite not having a clear plan or even any real thought.

Chapter Six

We pick up where we left off and Natsume wakes up grumpy after everyone seeing him under the effects of Narumi’s pheromone alice. He causes more destruction, still in somewhat of a rage, and even causes Narumi a head wound though his teacher seems unbothered by this (or maybe even used to it, who can say).

The next thing that happens is that an alarm rings, signaling that Natsume is due for severe punishment, and, as Naru points out, not something he can help with this time. Narumi warns him to get a move on before a mystery enemy (Persona) arrives, and that is enough to scare Natsume into getting out of there. But not before he issues a word of warning of his own to Mikan, that she will regret coming to Alice Academy of her own free will.

Isn't it interesting how her optimism, something he hated so much about her from the start, ends up being something he loves about her?

I have very many thoughts about this warning. It might even seem like a threat, as if Natsume will go out of his way to make sure she regrets her decision, but he does no such thing. He is convinced that Mikan doesn’t need help reaching that conclusion--she will realize it on her own because the school is simply that terrible.

It makes a little bit of sense to view Natsume’s hatred of Mikan this way: Mikan skipped right into his own personal hell with a smile on her face and a bubbly attitude. Meanwhile, he fought and kicked and screamed right until the very end when he was forced into attending the academy. And Mikan is not some normal girl who might be able to live a quiet and pleasant life in the academy. She’s already been marked, what with all the games about her enrollment, and that might anger Natsume even more: she’s really naive enough to walk into a place that’s not just hell to him, but inevitably to her too. Because of this, Natsume hates her and is predisposed to hate her more the more cheerful and optimistic she is.

And, unlike in the anime, this hatred takes much longer to go away.

Anyway, we see Natsume again later in class, when he shows up late after having just been terribly abused as punishment for his actions in the Northern Woods.

In the anime, Natsume catches Mikan insulting him while wearing the punishment mask, and although he’s covered in scratches and the kids are whispering about his bad mood, there’s not much else to it. He doesn’t seem any more unpleasant than he’s been this whole time.

There's nothing funny about this but I will put here as a warning that anybody who jokes that kids should be hit will be hit by me!

In the manga, Natsume is so weak that he can hardly stand. It’s not just scratches, but blood and gashes on his wrists and legs. The mask is not only used to mark him, it’s also used to punish, by physically abusing him when Persona has better things to do.

He makes his way to his seat, but Narumi is on the way, just enough to make a quippy comment.

(I wonder sometimes about Narumi establishing himself as untrustworthy to the children, particularly Natsume, and how exactly that’s supposed to be a help to the student body at large. I mean there’s the possibility that Mikan is special, and her being Yuka’s daughter helped Narumi remember what he became a teacher for. In that case, it might make sense that Narumi, being so jaded and bitter, might be content acting as a villain to the abused children of the academy, and especially to Natsume, but I can’t help but feel that’s not the case. I don’t want to think that Narumi was willingly complicit and even amused by Natsume’s abuse. It’s difficult to tell for sure, though, because Narumi is way more mysterious than Natsume tries to be.)

Sumire tries to kiss up, whining to Natsume about how everyone is suddenly acting so nice to the new girl, until Natsume forcefully kicks her desk to shut her up. He only holds back with Ruka, who he would never lash out at.

Narumi then announces that Mikan shall have a partner, and that her partner will be Natsume. It’s funny because although Hotaru made it clear she didn’t want the job, Iinchou was willing to volunteer, but Narumi ignores that because he always wanted Natsume to be her partner. At this news, everyone is shocked, wondering if Mikan is supposed to be special, seeing as she’s paired up with Natsume of all people.

Narumi smiles to himself despite the chaos and then lets himself leave the classroom, saying, “let’s see what happens.”

Why does he partner them up?

Mikan thinks Narumi is crazy for this, and from an outside perspective it certainly might seem that way.

Natsume’s theory, as becomes clear later during the exams, is that this was organized by the ESP and Persona, perhaps as a punishment, but definitely with ulterior motives. He is closer to nailing it, but a little off. There is no way in hell the ESP would want to partner the child of rabble-rousers with the school’s pet child soldier. That’s a recipe for disaster. Knowing that the ESP was excited to welcome Mikan because of her alice, and that her presence at the school might encourage Yuka to try and save her, he wouldn’t have wanted to disturb his own plans.

So what is the reason?

It’s all Narumi, of course. Perhaps the O.G. shipper, Narumi could tell right away that Mikan’s nullification would be useful, particularly in regards to Natsume. Pairing them up is just another means to an end, as Narumi actually wants the kids to raise some trouble.

Chapter Seven

Being partners with Natsume is quite unhelpful.

Mikan ends up a No-Star and her Special-Star partner is for the most part absent throughout her ordeals, having to cope with it all on her own.

Chapter Seven is mainly lacking Natsume. He functions to not function for most of it, that is to establish himself as being a terrible partner.

There is a moment that stands out, when Mikan is writing a letter to her grandpa, where Natsume appears. Yes, he appears in her head to taunt her about her regret coming to the school, and she spites him by committing to optimism and determination in the future. But he also has a short appearance paralleling a panel of Mikan: they are both in their beds, awake.

WHAT WAS THE REASON?????!??!?!?

This parallel is interesting, their panels right next to each other. She is thinking about her grandpa, and we have no way of knowing what Natsume is thinking about, but there has to be a reason for him to appear despite having been mostly absent so far in the chapter.

To me, it’s another narrative tool to pair them together. They have been so far, in more ways than one, and will continue to be as they fall in love, and this is just another example of how they’d been fated from the start. Even when they hate each other, and even when they aren’t thinking of each other, they’re still tied. Looking at those panels, and seeing Natsume despite his relative irrelevance to the plot, seems to be a message that there’s more to come between them. I don’t know if any of what I’m saying makes sense, or if it seems silly, but there’s very little analysis I can do without just talking about potential.

Later, with Mikan in a new mood, ready to make the most of her situation, the kids are talking about her resilience with both her no-star status and having Natsume as a partner.

Ruka does the talking for Natsume, warning Mikan that she’s being watched and remarking that nobody should have been assigned a no-star for simply disturbing class.

Once again, Mikan and Natsume are paired: they are both treated unfairly, with Mikan given a no-star status she doesn’t deserve, and Natsume given a special-star status despite the fact that he doesn’t even go to class most of the time. They’re the exceptions to the rule, and the reader is made to wonder what exactly it is that they have in common that would result in this treatment.

Ruka tells Mikan not to trust any teachers at the academy, not even Naru, and this is almost like hearing from Natsume himself. Unlike Mikan, who will happily make strong bonds with teachers like Narumi and Nodacchi, Natsume has absolutely no positive adult figures in his life. His father is far away, his mother is dead, and every teacher is someone he holds either directly or indirectly responsible for his suffering. The adults at the school have failed him and he has nobody to trust. Something Natsume needs is a positive role model, somebody he can look up to and have faith in, because as it stands he’s a traumatized boy who absorbs negativity and takes it out in bad ways. A trustworthy adult would very much help Natsume grow and learn better coping skills, and in the meantime it makes perfect sense that he would act out and even be a bully at times.

Chapter Eight

Natsume has a habit of ignoring any and all episodes where Mikan has confrontations with her teachers. He is either dozing off or listening to music with Ruka, and doesn’t seem particularly interested in even watching.

That being said, we see a new side to Natsume in this chapter, a new emotion in a way we haven’t before: fear.

Natsume ditches class with regularity. He does not care about being present. For most classes, he would simply walk out and go screw around somewhere else, but with the dangerous ability class, he doesn’t have that choice.

The other teachers may be complicit, but they won’t do the abuse themselves. Persona is not above that, as we have already noticed despite never even seeing him so far.

If Natsume does not want to attend the dangerous ability class, then he has to run for it, and in this chapter he does, like his life depends on it, because his safety sure does. He’s only ten years old and forced to do horrible missions for the school. This is one of the scenes that reminds me that he is just a child. He knows he could get punished for running, but he does it anyway. Maybe, if he runs fast enough, they won’t catch him. Maybe, if he doesn’t get caught, he doesn’t have to go on a mission. Maybe, just this once, they won’t mind if he doesn’t show. It’s such a childish and desperate thing to do, to avoid pain at the cost of more pain to come.

Natsume is scary when he's scared...

It’s funny that as he is running from pain, he runs into Mikan, who will later alleviate his pain. For now, he just shuts her up so that Persona can pass the area while looking for him. We see Persona for the first time, what Natsume is scared of more than anything, and although his fear seems obvious, Mikan is preoccupied by annoyance for being shut up like that.

They bicker--or she bickers at him, mostly--until the middle schoolers encounter them and start bullying them.

Natsume is ready to ignore them and walk away, until Sumire’s brother calls him a murderer, reminding us of the rumor Hotaru and Iinchou discussed. Natsume stops, and Sumire’s brother whines that he’s just a special star because he’s “Persona’s favorite”.

Sumire and her brother have, like, nothing in common other than curly hair, huh.

Being Persona’s favorite is no privilege, as we know now from the run-in we just had with him and Natsume’s fear. This sets Natsume off and he starts some fires. When they threaten to call Persona, who Natsume was just running from, he responds that they can call him all they want, but he’ll burn them before he can get there to capture him. We see once again, through Natsume standing up for himself, that his berserk button lacks reason (as he is willing to sacrifice punishment by Persona again).

In a last-ditch attempt to threaten him, the middle schoolers threaten Mikan, who they perceive to be Natsume’s new girlfriend. (Calling her his girlfriend is interesting because it is even more proof that they are being narratively paired together! It shouldn’t be a surprise at all that they eventually get together, when almost everybody around them pairs them up like this, even when they can’t stand each other.) They do not expect that Natsume actually hates her, and genuinely doesn’t care if she gets bullied or not. He smiles in twisted amusement at this turn of events and walks away for good this time, leaving Mikan to be bullied.

Aw, he's smiling! How sweet.... oh wait that's a skull.

Now, Natsume is a good person deep inside, somebody who is selfless and kind in secret ways. There is no secret kindness about this scene. He is not a nice person, for sure, and this scene is proof of it.

Natsume is used to sacrificing himself for the comfort and well-being of his loved ones, so there might be relief in not caring about the comfort or well-being of somebody, and being able to choose his own well-being before that of somebody else for once. It makes sense that he would be so amused, because this time nobody has anything to hold over his head.

Conclusion

We have seen some more of the abuse Natsume faces on a daily basis. He and Mikan have been partnered up and they are presented narratively as foils and as pairs even outside of that dynamic.

For the next part, we'll see even more examples of them being paired together, as well as how Natsume is isolated from his classmates.

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#gakuen alice #alice academy #hyuuga natsume #natsume hyuuga #natsumikan #sakura mikan #mikan sakura #my meta #ga #mine #ga meta #ga meta: nm #ga meta: manga #ga meta: manga nm #let's talk about natsumikan #let's talk about natsumikan: natsume #i love him! i love THEM! perfection! excellent story-telling! fantastic! so much to analyze! i ADORE!

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askdracomalfoyofficial · 3 years

Text

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𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Note: The paragraphs that are in italic are the thoughts he is thinking —

TW: Mild thoughts of killing her. Swearing. Possession. Nothing to serious, but thought I would put this before-hand. Enjoy!

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It all started after I had called you a Mudblood. You see, my father taught me all about blood-status, pure-bloods being the highest form of witch or wizard. Magic comes easy to us, our veins are filled with it. We have control over it. Then theres you, someone who has Muggle parents, making you just that. How you had a outburst of magic is something I'm currently questioning. I can certainly see you being someone who's Drabble around with it, study it in your books.

But my father warned me about people like you. Warned me that your blood is dirty, and anyone whom surrounds themselves around you, or even do much as become friends with you is a blood-traitor.

Anyone under us, we don't care for.

Yet, there was something about you that had always piqued my interest somehow, someway or another. I can't tell you what it is, Granger. But, Merlin… I don't know how you are our Brightest Witch of Her Age became such a thing for a Muggle-born. You and your swatty ways, always raising your bloody hand in class every two, three seconds. Basically… dissecting the answers or things the Professors would teach us. God, how I wished I could cut your hands off, or cast a silencing charm on you so your mouth stops moving, you annoying wrench.

The witch with unruly messy mop on her head. Tame your fucking mane, Granger. Get some tips from Pansy for all I care, maybe then… you'd learn something. But, you're not someone who cares about appearances are you? You're the first girl I know to not. Doesn't surprise me.

He breathes out a sigh.

I bloody fucking hate you. You have no idea. I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and watch the life leave your eyes but not as much as I want to run my fingers through your hair, grab a fistful and yank your head back just to crash my lips onto yours. To make you feel the hate I have for you, to make your lips swollen. To have my tongue vigorously dance with yours, a duel to win. I want to press my lips to your neck, find your pulse and feel it beat against my lips then suck your breath from you. Suffocate in your aroma, to smell your hair and taste the salt of your skin against my tongue.

“For instance… I smell,” she leans her face more over the steam. “Freshly mown grass, and new parchment, and–“ Her words trailed off as she started to realize who it was.

Thinking about it is repulsive, thinking about you, specifically is repulsive. I’m thinking about all this, while you're smelling your Amortentia, and I bet what you're smelling is that daft bimbo, Weaselby.

Ah, the lovely Amortentia. The most powerful love potion that there is. It has a smell for each and every individual according to what attracts them.

Draco adjusts his stance, hands finding a home in the pocket of his trousers. Eyes on her, more so the back of her head, watching while she smells the steam that swirls endlessly up towards her face, and the way her hair grows with the humidity. In a way, it matches the way his had been tousled at his fringe. It looks as if someone had ran their fingers through his own hair and ruffled it up. Hers just looks like straight bed head, yet not taken care of.

His brow raised, looking through his lashes at her.

Weaselby smells like mown grass, well that's quite bloody disgusting. And, you're telling me that's what attracts you?

A scoff slipped out from somewhere in the room, and for a moment he panicked because he knew it came from him the moment Blaise lifted his eyes to look at him with a brow of his own raised. But, Draco's eyes were on the back of her head, which in that moment he regretted because she turned around and automatically met his. Jaw muscles worked as it snapped shut, clenching his teeth together.

Don't look at me like that. Who do you think you are?

Professor Slughorn dismissed the class, he hurried to get his things situated and left the room without so much as a second glance back at his fellow classmates; including her. But he could feel the way that her eyes bored into his back, setting his skin ablaze.

Eventually, Blaise caught up to him. “What was all that back there, mate?”

“What? What do you mean was all that?” He stopped in his tracks, and lifted his eyes to meet Blaise’s but grew uncomfortable and looked away, ah, the stone wall was helping particularly well in this moment.

“Why did you act that way after Granger smelled her Amortenia?”

Merlin! He wasn't going to let this up. Fucking always so observant.

“Because what she smelled was ridiculous.”

“No, what is it really? You can't possibly think I'm that stupid, Draco.” He persisted.

Draco’s eyes gravitated back to him. Jaw tight. “What would you like me to say, Blaise? Is there a specific thing you're expecting me to answer with? Because whatever you're trying to get out of me, isn't there. So, I suggest that you stop while you're ahead.” Was what he left the conversation with.

Blaise, if I told you anything, you'd think that I’ve gone bloody mental, shit, I'm beginning to wonder myself if I did.

All through the years I’ve been watching Hermione Granger, bullying her and her friends because I get amusement out of the looks on their faces. How I know that I piss them off, and I'm good at it. There was once a part of me who loved to watch her cry, to bathe in those tears that fell down her cheeks, those very cheeks I want to grab in my hand and attack her jaw with my lips.

Draco shook his head as if he were trying to dismiss the thoughts, dismiss the way he was feeling and thinking as they weren't quite appropriate.

This year was so utterly fucked. I just want it to be over.

He made his way through the corridors, retreating from Blaise and dipping around the corner. He needed some down time, perhaps the library would do some good. Settle down with a book, in a far corner sounded lovely.

An hour gone by, and he'd been so enveloped in multiple books because he couldn't just decide on one and he needed to distract his mind from the interaction with Blaise, and Hermione interfering his thoughts.

But low and behold, she came into the library. Of course! The know-it-all loved to read just as much as he did.

Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me.

Draco rolled his eyes, clenched his jaw tight and pretended to read but every so often his gaze would lift to where she was. She was huffing loudly, even two exasperated sighs left her mouth. His teeth gritted and the muscle in his jaw worked.

After a couple of moments, perhaps five minutes gone by of her continuing with her loud outbursts of breathing, huffs and sighs he had enough of it all. Draco slammed the book shut, picking up the others and went to return them to their slots. When he was done, he approached her. Shouldering the frame of one of the bookshelves.

“Do you need to be so loud? This is a library for a reason.” His voice was cold, like a cool breeze brushing through the space between them. By the looks of it, he could tell that when he spoke that he had startled her.

She turned around mid-way while pulling out a book. Her chocolate-colored eyes lifted to meet his with a glare. Her head tilted to the side, and a retort was just waiting to leave her mouth. Draco had noticed this when he seen her lips twitch.

“Do you wish for me to apologize to you? Because,” she scoffed, crossing her arms with the book over her chest and under one arm. “You won't be getting it.”

“Who said anything about you apologizing?” His brow raised. “It's the fact that you are in a library, being loud with just your breath.”

Hermione looked around them. “Seems to me like we're the only ones in here, Malfoy. So —” she put the book back and moved down the shelf more, opposite of where he was standing. “I don't really see a problem here, you're just always bothered unless it's you doing something someone doesn't like.” She retorted, rather calmly.

How are you always able to handle your composure when around me. Yes — keep going down the aisle, pretty soon you'll be stuck in that corner.

Draco’s jaw snapped, his throat clicked. He hadn't really observed the room when he came in, but she was right about it being empty and the only ones in there being them. What a situation to be in.

“And you breathing loudly happens to be something that I don't like. I wouldn't be standing here right now if otherwise.” A hand slipped from across his chest, as his index finger lifted from the light fist he held, raising it like he were thinking before taking a step closer, slowly. “I am always bothered by you. Your presence is insufferable. Anywhere I go, I always have to see your face, I'm repulsed by it.”

It's true, I am always bothered by you. You are insufferable, but I am sure I could put you into your place; if you'd let me. I may be repulsed by your face, but I can't help but also like looking at it, at those lips —

She laughed manically, like what he said was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard, or perhaps she had seen right through him. Hermione stopped what she was doing with the books, what book was she trying to find anyways? Her body shifted, feet angled towards him and arms remained crossed over her chest.

“You're the only one who thinks these things, and quite frankly they do not bother me.”

Man, you are bloody stubborn — not as much as I am.

He stepped closer, a hand coming up to grip onto the edge of the shelf. His own height towering over her own, blocking out the library light from her face. They were now sharing each other's exhaled breathes, and he knew she could feel the way his ghosted along her face. She didn't at all seem bothered by his presence now crowding her, backed into the corner of a bookshelf. He was looming over her.

“They don't bother you?” He asked and his tone dripped sarcasm. She shifted uncomfortably. “Do tell me, what does bother you then?”

“Why would that be something you're curious about? Since when did you care about what bothers me or not?”

Draco smirks, his head turning to the side while his eyes fell to the door of the library. Tongue grazing the bottom of his upper teeth. “You're right,” he turned his head back, glaring down through his lashes. “Why would I care? I don't care for someone of the liking of you.”

With that — he leaned down towards her more, for a moment he looked as though he were going to kiss her. But it was just to give a look of intimidation before his weight pressed into the hand that gripped the shelf to push himself off. Hands finding their way back into his trouser pockets.

I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you so much and you already know that don't you, Granger? Because I make it known, it's all over my face whenever you look at me, whenever we run into each-other. I hate you, yet I want to fucking kiss you, I want to do these things to do you that I, when I was younger couldn't see myself doing. Let alone have never done with a witch before besides Pansy, she always knew how to keep my best interests in mind.

I want to have my hands in your hair, tangled in my fingers and watch as your curled locks fall through. I want my hand around your throat possessively, let my thumb graze along your jaw and down the front of your throat like I'm thirsty for you and just want a little taste.

I want to have your clothes pooled at your feet while my eyes roam your naked canvas, I want to take in every scar, beauty mark, freckle. I want to do it all.

I want to trace the pads of my fingers down your spine, to your tailbone and trail them around to your hips.

I want to do so much to you — I want to possess you.

But then I'm reminded just by looking at you that you're a Muggle witch, and I fucking hate you, you're repulsive and insufferable. A know-it-all swat, who just can't keep her fucking mouth shut.

I'm conflicted, my stomach is in knots and this'll be the one thing that takes me to my very grave.

#personal #writers #dramione #dramionestan #dramione fanfic #oneshot #draco malfoy #Hermione granger #harry potter universe #Dramione fandom #my work #I hope you lovely Dramione shippers enjoy #possessive Draco #hateful Draco #toxic Draco #etc etc etc

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echo-three-one · 3 years

Text

Whatever It Takes : RELOADED

Ghost fights his hurt feelings and discovers something in the process. Could this be the key to locating Samantha?

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : Delayed Flight

Chapter 18 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Lurking in the Shadows

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Task Force 141 - Disbanded

400 meters east of Safe House 110197, Brazil

Ghost checked his phone by the hotel nightstand. It's 3:34 am and not a single notification from the team. They probably believed he was out to get intel and didn't bother to look for him. He was fine with that.

"What time is it?" a female groan murmured beside him as she circled her soft arms around his bare chest.

"3:34" he whispered, making the girl giggle as he ran his hand on her hair.

"We aren't supposed to be cuddling like this, remember?" She said, sighing as she got up slowly. Ghost immediately followed, groaning as well.

"I'm sorry Alexandra. It's just…"

"Don't worry. I know this sounds too odd for you at the moment. To be honest I got carried away too…" the interpol agent frowned and wrapped herself up with a towel, making her way to the showers. Ghost trailed his eyes at her and sighed.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Simon?" he murmured and turned to his phone, rereading their conversation.

It was as clear as day that they both agreed to this whole "No strings attached" thing together and he only said yes because he was too broken about France. He needed someone who could treat him well but this was the closest thing he could find.

Sure, he had no regrets about the woman, she was amazing, but while his body was happy, the heart yearned for something more. It was getting worse every day especially when he woke up to see the two lovebirds chasing against each other around the house.

Just as he placed his phone beside hers, Alexandra's notification tone beeped and her screen lit up, as it showed a message from an unknown number.

Simon wanted to take a peek but the message itself is encrypted, his mind wandered more as the security detail of such a message meant that it was of high importance. It might've been from the EMP machinery they're still investigating on which could also be a lead to Nero. He's debating whether he's going to ask her for information just as he intended to, but he's scared that she'll think he's just using her.

"Hey, you got a message." Simon called her from the bed.

"Who's it from?" she asked, her voice was faint as the shower sounds concealed it. Ghost wore his pants and grabbed her phone, leaning by the bathroom door as he announced the details.

"It's encrypted." he murmured. The water stopped pouring and the shower curtains peeked open.

She didn't even bother how she looked as she quickly wiped off her fingers and grabbed her phone.

"Shit." she cursed scrolling to the contents of text, which Ghost observed as very lengthy.

"Wh-" he paused and hesitated. He didn't tell her of their little rogue act so any questions might come off as suspicious.

"Shepherd wants to exchange Samantha for the I.P. Address." she mumbled, looking at Ghost.

"What's his deal?"

"To fund his EMP Nuke that he'll get from Nero." she replied as she continued scrolling.

"With New York already in chaos, the President would most likely be desperate enough to fund this, now that the economy is in shambles."

"What's stopping them from fighting against the New York attacks?"

"We have no idea where the small EMP interferences are, and our strongest lead is that the missing persons are being manually controlled to travel and situate themselves near the stock exchange where they blindly emit blasts through their phones. Like the one we found back in Europe."

"They walk and interact like normal civilians, so with millions of people around the city. It'll look like we're looking for a needle on a haystack." She added, wrapping herself with a towel and quickly dressed up.

"Where are you going now?" He asked as she walked past him.

"I'll try to talk some sense into someone who can talk some sense to the president. The EMP nuke is not a joke." She spat, the worry in her eyes made Ghost want to console her. But now was not the time for that.

"Can I ask a question?" Ghost said.

"Be quick." She said, putting on her jacket and collecting her stuff.

"Do you have any idea where Shepherd is?"

The sun wasn't up when Ghost decided to return to the Safe house. He expected that it'll still be closed but it looked like Price and Jack were already sipping coffee by the balcony.

"Where have you been?" Price asked, his tone wasn't that strict so Ghost decided to lie.

"I just took a walk around the town." he replied, hoping that there will be no more follow up questions.

"For Twelve hours. Okay." Price noted as Ghost got inside the house. Ever since he started this little team of rogue soldiers, Price became protective. And Ghost knew that it was bound to happen. Any injuries under his care will not be funded by any higher department and they need to be careful.

He immediately accessed their little command center and began searching. He got two locations to research on, and he needed to act fast.

He did the best he could, hacking into public and unsecured CCTV footage, squinting his eyes over the poor quality videos just to look for Samantha. She was last spotted in Moscow about 30 minutes ago. Ghost had to admit his cryllic knowledge is a little low and his fingers were trembling in panic. He needed help.

He slowly creaked the door open and saw Alex, Soap and Roach peacefully sleeping, Roach was upside down and clung onto Alex's metal leg, a sight worth taking a photo on but he didn't. It almost made him guilty to wake John up, but knowing the guy, he'll understand the urgency.

"Psst." he nudged his shoulders. It felt very awkward now that he's still frustrated about the guy winning France's heart but he needed to act professional, besides no one but Alex knows about his emotions toward the duo.

Soap groaned and slowly opened his eyes, flinching at the skull face that woke him up.

"Bollocks!" he exclaimed, making Alex and Gary shuffle and reposition while Ghost quickly pulled his mask and shushed him.

"Sorry Soap. But I need your help." he whispered as he slowly got up and collected himself following him outside.

"What about?" his heavy accent echoed against the quiet halls while he rubbed sleep off his eyes.

"Russian Alphabet."

"Okay." he murmured lazily. "What for?"

"A lead on Samantha." he said. The expression on Soap's face changed from sleepy-scotsman to what-are-we-waiting-for as he jumped to the control center and began typing.

The two teamed up together translating codes of texts and typing commands on different kinds of webcams all across Russia, all they had was a barely readable plate number of a black van which allegedly housed Samantha and three of Shepherd's men which were designated to protect her.

Hours passed and they barely got through any possible lead. The rest of the team woke up one by one and slowly helped the duo. Once Alex woke up, they got another additional pair of hands to help and it made them more efficient. If only Ghost knew that Alex knew Russian, it would've been less awkward. But then again, he needed this kind of interaction with Soap, so he could finally be comfortable around them.

Then there it was. The first solid lead with Samantha's face on it. A hotel not far from the airport. Alex couldn't help but creep his head close to the monitor, his eyes had that longing look on the blurry screen. He was sure it's her.

They later reported their findings to Price and Jack, and it was indeed a lead worth pursuing. But when asked how they got such info overnight, they all turned to Ghost to which he said that it's still within the phone's encrypted messages. Price and Jack nodded and Ghost sighed in relief. He didn't want anyone to know about his little fling.

"Then let's have breakfast and have a little briefing after. I'll make calls to Nikolai to arrange us a visit to his homeland." Price announced as everyone, especially Alex's, face lit up and felt energized.

HAPPY TRAVELER INN PARKING AREA

MOSCOW, RUSSIA

8:52 PM

Ghost set up his little command set up at the back of the van. The plan was easy, Alex, Soap and Roach sneaked inside her room, silently knocking down the three guards, taking their clothes and escorting her back to the van to safety. While Price would take down their driver and replace the getaway vehicle with this one.

The group of five didn't bring any weapons so as to not raise suspicion, after all they're just sneaking Samantha from Shepherd's hands. No need for violence.

"Can you hear me, lads?" Ghost muttered softly against the microphone.

"Loud and clear, mate." Gary responded.

"Yes pal." Alex commented.

"Aye lad. I can hear ye." Soap added.

Price gave a thumbs up from the driver's seat. Ghost pressed some buttons and after a few moments, he now had access to the whole building's cameras and some controls.

"Chuckles, I'm in." Ghost commented to which Gary snickered. It looked like he was the only one who understood the reference.

"Okay lads. The janitors are on their break. They're inside that incoming elevator." Ghost informed as he looked at the live feed. The three carefully grabbed the janitors without intention of hurting them. Carrying some rope and cloth, they quickly tied the janitors and hid them on a blind spot away from the camera's eyes. Ghost could hear Alex muttering something to the three in Russian, he couldn't translate it fully but it had the word sorry, don't worry and okay in it. After that, they immediately wore their janitor uniforms and the janitors were already on their way to the 10th floor.

"I don't have cameras inside the rooms. But your hallway is clear."

"Okay. Your ride home is ready." Price muttered, Ghost never noticed the old man exit the van but apparently he already took care of the driver.

"Great. It's all on you three now. Let's save Samantha." Ghost said as the cameras show three janitors knocking on Samantha's room.

Next Chapter : Vlad the Janitor

Notification Squad my Beloved

@samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @ricinbach @enderio @beemybee @whimsywispsblog

#horrayfic #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley #alex echo 3 1 #gary roach sanderson #whateverittakes #horRAYfic

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xiyao-feels · 4 years

Text

Nie//yao (MDZS)

So NMJ/JGY is actually getting two versions, because my read on them is wildly different for MDZS vs CQL.

In MDZS I...don't ship it? I mean, there just doesn't seem to be to be anything there at all of a romantic or sexual nature. It's not that they don't care about each other, they clearly do, but it's in a way that is...NMJ as substitute father, JGY as substitute brother, and heavily, heavily inflected by their (current and then former) relationship as superior and subordinate.

Putting this behind a cut because a) it's me explaining at breath length with quotes why I don't think they have a romantic or sexual relationship and I don't want people to have to see that unless they want and b) accordingly it is REALLY LONG and I also don't want to clutter people's dashes, so.

Actually backing up a step, I don't see MDZS NMJ as being attracted to anyone, that's not really specific to JGY. I tend to read him as aspec, tbh. So theoretically he could have romantic feelings about JGY without being attracted to him—I think he may have some quasi-romantic feelings for LXC, though I don't think he conceptualizes it that way—but... honestly, it's not really clear to me that he even likes JGY as a person.

I'm not saying he doesn't like JGY! He clearly does, at least before MY tricks him and flees. But it doesn't seem to have anything to do with MY's personality, as opposed to like—MY being really competent and conducting himself well.

Some quotes about what exactly NMJ values about JGY:

'Nie MingJue interrupted him, “I promoted you not because I wanted you to give back anything out of gratitude. I simply thought that you should stay in this position, since you are capable enough and your conduct is to my liking. If you really want to pay me back, just kill a few more of those Wen-dogs on the battlefield!”'

'After [Meng Yao] left [for Langya], Nie MingJue switched to another deputy. Wei WuXian, however, felt that the new one was always a few beats slower. Meng Yao was an unusually clever talent. He could understand what wasn’t said, and perform to the best with the simplest orders. He was efficient and never slacked. Anyone used to him wouldn’t be able to refrain from comparing him with others.'

'Nie MingJue was never close to people. He rarely opened up to anyone. Though he finally managed to obtain a competent, trustworthy subordinate, whose character and capabilities he approved, he found that the subordinate’s true colors were nothing like what he had thought they were. It was only natural that his reaction was so extreme.'

'Wei WuXian had once found it strange as well. Ever since Meng Yao betrayed the QingheNie Sect, the relationship between Nie MingJue and him hadn’t been the same as before. Then why did they later become sworn brothers? From his observations, aside from how Lan XiChen brought it up, having always hoped that the two would reconcile, the most important factor was probably the gratitude of saving his life and writing the letters. To be precise, in his past battles, he had more-or-less depended on the information that Meng Yao sent over through Lan XiChen. He still thought that Jin GuangYao was a talented person whom one would rarely come upon, and intended on leading him back onto the right path. However, Jin GuangYao wasn’t his subordinate anymore. Only after they became sworn brothers would he have the status and the position to urge Jin GuangYao, like how he disciplined his younger brother, Nie HuaiSang.'

Jin GuangYao spoke with dejection, “But, Brother, didn’t you hear what he said in the oath? Every sentence meant something more. ‘Face a thousand accusing fingers, be torn from limb to limb’—this was clearly a warning for me. I… I’ve never heard of such an oath before.”

Lan XiChen replied in a gentle voice, “He said ‘if one were to think otherwise’. Do you think otherwise? If not, then why should you worry over it so much?"

Jin GuangYao, “I don’t, but Brother has already decided that I do, so what can I do?”

Lan XiChen, “He has always cherished your talent, hoping that you would choose the right path.”

You might notice a recurring theme here: there's a lot of focus JGY's competence and conduct. But anything about who JGY is as a person? Not so much.

They clearly had a good superior/subordinate relationship going on, albeit one in which NMJ was missing a lot of context (see just behave well and show people up, plus the you're missing a solid foundation thing). But it does seem to be basically professional. WWX describes them as conversing "peaceably, even impressively" in contrast to "his future self, always being scolded by Nie MingJue" and "those jokes of how 'LianFang-Zun fled whenever he heard that ChiFeng-Zun arrived,'" and.... that's kind of it. The closest we get to them as friends is them talking together with LXC after NMJ tells MY he will give him a letter of recommendation and send him to his father; as WWX describes it, "The three chatted back and forth, at times serious, yet at times light. The conversation was much more relaxed than when they had been in the living room. Listening to their chatter, Wei WuXian often wanted to get a word in as well, yet he was unable to do so."

That's definitely not nothing! But it's also the most we ever get, only shows up the once, and is explicitly contrasted with their conversation from earlier. Moreover, I'm pretty sure LXC's presence is a necessary part of things; NMJ tends to respond differently to LXC than to other people (even just earlier in this chapter, we're told that while "Nie MingJue had never been one for humour," "in front of Lan XiChen his expression eased"), and WWX explicitly notes LXC's conversation skills in the context of this conversation: "At this point in time, their relationship really isn't bad. Zewu-Jun is actually quite good at holding conversations, so why is Lan Zhan so bad at it?"

In addition, I'd say that looking at the early part of that conversation is quite telling; while LXC and MY are sitting together as equals, MY stand up at once the moment NMJ interrupts, and doesn't sit even after NMJ tells him to do so (I think he probably does take a seat at some point, but the narrative doesn't actually tell us when). Moreover, MY seems to be worried that NMJ will be offended by a possible lack of gratitude on MY's part ("Sect Leader Nie, if you heard everything, then you should've also heard me say that..."), and the only objection he expresses to leaving is precisely that he owes NMJ a debt of gratitude, not anything to do with, like, missing him. To me all the evidence suggests that while they had a close relationship, it was not a /personal/ relationship, but fundamentally one of superior and subordinate.

(For a close read of the scene where NMJ, LXC and MY are talking together, I highly recommend @confusion-and-more's post here)

Moving on, let's look at after JGY becomes JGY. They don't seem to particularly spend time together with each other, certainly not for the sake of it. There's a brief moment at the Flower Banquet where NMJ asks JGY why he's wasting his time with XY (who has not at this point in time committed his crime, he just has a reputation), but after JGY makes his excuse and scurries away, NMJ turns away and doesn't seem to seek him out or even pay him any particular attention for the rest of the scene; he only shows up once more, and that's following WWX. (And although JGY-as-replacement-NHS would be a post all on its own, I do think it's interesting to note that the exchange about XY is immediately followed by LXC and LWJ coming over, described in a way that highlights both their impressiveness and their status at brothers—their Twin Jade-ness, one might say.) During the guqin scene, NMJ only speaks once, and it's to address LXC—to protest the inappropriateness of LXC leaking exclusive Lan techniques. When JGY shows up to play the guqin for him the first time, NMJ asks JGY "what did you come here for," which suggests that NMJ is not generally expecting JGY to come by without a specific, concrete reason. The closest they ever seem to get after JGY becomes JGY is during these guqin-playing sessions, and as WWX describes it, "when playing the guqin, the way that the two conversed and got along even had a hint of the peace they had before they fell out"—which is certainly better than there being no peace at all, but which I think suggests there's still at least some tension, given that it's only a "hint."

Now, NMJ certainly cares about JGY, both in the sense of desiring his well-being, at first, and absolutely in the sense of being emotionally invested in him—even after his death, as a fierce corpse his only desire is to kill Jin Guangyao. But while they had a close superior-subordinate relationship—certainly NMJ seems to have felt close to MY—at no point was it a close personal relationship, and I don't think that NMJ even liked JGY (or MY, I'm using the name expansively) as a person, let alone was in love with him.

But mostly so far I've been focusing in NMJ's feelings. What about JGY? Is /he/ in love with NMJ?

Once again, I just don't read him that way. This isn't to say he didn't care for NMJ—he absolutely did! He goes to quite significant lengths to save his life from WRH in the Sun Palace, including quite a lot of risk to MY himself—I analyze that in a lot more depth in the first part of my post here, if you're interested, though I will also note now that he specifically sent for LXC to help NMJ. (You'll have to scroll down some; I'm responding to someone else's post.) Afterwards, he kneels to NMJ and apologizes, I think sincerely, for hurting him and for invoking his pain about his father's death. He certainly conceives of himself as owing a debt of gratitude to NMJ for recognizing him, and he's so overcome when NMJ offers to send him to his father with a letter of recommendation, saying that he didn't promote MY so that MY would owe him, that he quite remarkably can't even find words. NMJ meant a lot to him, and so did NMJ's not defining him in terms of his birth—until he did, of course, at the stairs kick incident. But as far as I can tell, there's nothing to suggest he has /romantic feelings/ for NMJ, and frankly—how can I put this—it does not at all surprise me that JGY isn't in love with someone with a violent temper who is noted at least twice to react to people explaining themselves when he is angry with even more anger, and that's even without the thing where he nearly killed JGY on multiple occasions and called him the son of a prostitute.

No, I think JGY's emotional journey with NMJ goes through three stages: first, he's deeply grateful to him and respects him a great deal, although he's also aware of NMJ's lack of awareness of certain social realities (see: the teacup scene, NMJ yelling at the other Nie cultivators about their treatment of MY and telling MY not to worry as long as his conduct is upright); second, after Sun Palace, still gratitude and respect but also a mounting frustration with his lack of awareness of the implications of JGY's social position and his hypocrisy re: acceptable violence; finally, after the stairs kick when NMJ kicks him down the stairs, almost kills him, and tells him what else can be expected from the son of a prostitute, he is completely done with NMJ, but is still very much scared of him. The gratitude, I've discussed; the frustration, I think is fairly obvious in the speech he gives back to NMJ at the stairs. But I think the fear is often undervalued, so I'm going to pull a bunch of quotes again:

Meng Yao shrunk immediately after his previous outburst. Watching Baxia slash toward him, he sprinted off at once, scared lifeless. Of the two, one striked with madness and the other fled with madness. Both staggered, still soaked in blood. In such amusing circumstances, as Wei WuXian chopped at the future Chief Cultivator, in his heart he split his sides laughing. He thought that if not for how Nie MingJue was under heavy injuries and lacked spiritual power, Meng Yao would probably have been dead already.

Baxia’s strikes were so menacing that Shuoyue had to unsheath. Lan XiChen stopped him, half to support his figure and half to block his attacks, “MingJue-xiong, calm down! Why bother?”

Nie MingJue, “Why don’t you ask what he did?!”

Lan XiChen turned around to look at Meng Yao, his face was full of terror. He stammered as if he didn’t dare speak.

Nie MingJue remained silent, while Baxia and Shuoyue continued. Meng Yao took a glimpse at the glares from the clashes of the saber and the sword, his gaze full of fear. After a while, however, he still took a step forward. He kneeled to Nie MingJue.

A moment later, Nie MingJue still raised his saber. Lan XiChen, “MingJue-xiong!”

Meng Yao shut his eyes. Lan XiChen also tightened his grip on Shuoyue, “Please excuse…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the silver light of the blade slashed down violently, onto a boulder on the side.

Meng Yao flinched from the thunder of the boulder splitting apart. Looking over, he saw that it had been sliced into two halves, from the top to the bottom.

Jin GuangYao nodded. Xue Yang had been infamous ever since he was young. Wei WuXian clearly felt Nie MingJue’s brows knit even tighter. He spoke, “Why are you wasting your time with such a person?”

Jin GuangYao, “The LanlingJin Sect recruited him.”

He didn’t dare to protest any further. Excuse being that he needed to care for the guests, he scurried to the other side.

[part of his speech to NMJ at the stairs] You think that I should be afraid of nothing? Well I'm afraid of everything, even other people!

Within the temple, three people called Nie MingJue’s corpse ‘Brother’ but the three tones were drastically different. Jin GuangYao’s face was full of a drowning fear. His entire body began to shiver. No matter dead or alive, the person Jin GuangYao was most scared of was none but this sworn brother of his whose temper tolerated no evil. As his body shivered, his hands shivered as well, and the bloody guqin string he clutched tightly in his hand also began to shiver.

Clenching his teeth, Jin GuangYao struck a few acupoints of his arm. Amidst the dizziness that came from a loss of blood, he suddenly saw Nie MingJue walk a step towards him, his eyes locked on him. He was immediately half-dead with fear.

Collapsed beside Lan XiChen, Jin GuangYao saw this scene as well. Whether because the bleeding and the pain intensified at his arm and stomach or from some other reason, the glisten of tears could be seen in his eyes. But before he had a chance to catch his breath or lick his wounds, Nie MingJue turned around after he pulled his fist back and stared hungrily in his direction.

The harsh, stern expression on his rigid face held a sense of judgement that was no different from before he died. Even his tears had been scared away as Jin GuangYao turned to Lan XiChen for help, his voice trembling, “Brother…”

I think the stuff with, you know, handling NMJ's fierce corpse and hanging onto his head is often viewed as evidence of JGY's continued emotional investment in NMJ, but... I don't really think so? First of all, NMJ's fierce corpse is completely obsessed with killing JGY. I'll spare you another round of quotes on that because this is already ridiculously long and because it's not at all subtle—it's all over the temple chapters, take a look! And second of all—well, there's ways of getting information from a corpse. In this case, NMJ's resentful energy is so strong that without the protection of his body, papernan WWX is actually sucked into NMJ's memories against his will! Sure, maybe no one would risk it, and maybe no one who risked it would survive, but especially given that NMJ's fierce corpse is completely obsessed with killing JGY, that's a heck of a risk to take. And look at the description of the protections around NMJ's head:

Suddenly, Wei WuXian noticed that one of the shelves were blocked by a curtain. The curtain was covered in sinister, blood-red runes. It was a talisman of forbiddance, one of extreme power.

Jin GuangYao walked over and lifted the curtain.

For a split second, Wei WuXian thought that he had been exposed. After the faint firelight made its way through the curtain, he found that he was enveloped in a shadow. A circular object just happened to be in front of him.

Jin GuangYao stood still, as though he was staring into the eyes of whatever was inside this shelf.

After a moment, he spoke, “Were you the one looking at me?"

Of course, there couldn’t be any response. He was silent for a while, then let down the curtain.

Wei WuXian quietly attached himself to the object. Cold and hard, it seemed to be a helmet. He then turned to the front. As he had expected, he saw a pallid face. The one who sealed the head wanted it to see nothing, hear nothing, speak nothing, and so incantations had been crowded onto the waxen skin. The eyes, the ears, and the mouth were all sealed tightly shut.

There's containment, it's suppressed to all hell and back, and JGY quite justifiably expects it to be murderously obsessed with him, but to me it doesn't suggest a reciprocal obsession—just more fear.

I'll also note that as a strategy for containing the information about his own involvement it's a very successful operation! It failed in the end /eventually/, but the failure needed:

someone who could successfully break into his private treasure room and escape without being caught

who could also perform Empathy or a similar tecnnique on NMJ's head and survive it

who could successfully recreate from memory the altered Empathy song

whom LXC would be willing to listen to

That's a heck of a tall order!

As to being done with NMJ after the stairs, well, listen to what he says to LXC:

[...]

Jin GuangYao, “It’s not that I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong, but that sometimes I really can’t help. Nowadays, I have it bad no matter which side I’m on. I have to ensure that I’m on everyone’s good sides. I wouldn’t care if it were someone else, but have I mistreated our eldest brother in any way? Brother, you heard as well. What did he call me?”

[...]

Jin GuangYao was almost sobbing, “If he could say such a thing when he was angry, then just how does he think of me on a daily basis? Is it that because I couldn’t choose my background, because my mother couldn’t choose her fate, I’ll have to be humiliated by others throughout my whole life? If so, then how is Brother different from the people who look down on me? No matter what I do, in the end, just a sentence and I’m ‘the son of a prostitute’.”

And then of course there's what he says to LXC, in his speech to him at the end: "You, on the other hand, ZeWu-Jun, Sect Leader Lan, are as intolerant of me as Nie MingJue—you refuse to spare me even a single breath of life!"

So—wow, this got very long—I don't ship them, and although I think they have very much mattered emotionally to each other, I don't really see them as ever having been in love with or attracted to each other.

A couple of end notes:

In MDZS, NMJ isn't the first (non-MS) person who recognizes MY's worth, although he is the first person to promote him; by the time NMJ promotes MY MY has already met, rescued, and exchanged intimate confidences with LXC, who respects him greatly and thinks he is highly talented (see again the conversation in Hejian which NMJ overhears/eavedrops on).

I've seen people talk about them not understanding each other, but while NMJ certainly doesn't understand JGY, it's not at all obvious that the reverse is true; he generally seems to understand him pretty well. I think he has two surprises overall: first, that he wasn't expecting NMJ to say he didn't promote MY so MY would owe him, and volunteer to send him to his father with a letter of recommendation—and second, he wasn't expecting NMJ, who for all his flaws did seem to ignore JGY's background in good ways as well as bad, to call him the son of a prostitute.

I definitely don't read the coffin at the end as romantic. Or I mean, uh, there's the romance of an obsessive stalker-murderer finally getting his victim, and that's not nothing (unironically; look, I'm a Hannibal fan), but I don't think it's usually what people mean. This is a shitty end for JGY, part of how thoroughly he loses and is destroyed. I think to some extent it might be that he doesn't want LXC to be the one who killed him, and to some extent it's an act of defiance—now that he has nothing to lose, not even his life, he's going to go out fighting. I would expand on this but this post is ridiculously long and I have way too many quotes, maybe I'll do it in a separate post later on—but if you look at the description of it in the text, plus the subsequent description of it in the coffin...yeah. JGY didn't want to die, he didn't want to be engaged in a mutually destructive thing with NMJ; he wanted to leave NMJ behind in the past, and move on. It's not, for him any kind of fulfillment, is my read.

All quotes are taken from the Exiled Rebels translation: ch 48-50 for everything about NMJ and JGY's past relationship, ch. 47 for the description of JGY's containment measures for NMJ's head, and ch. 106-108 for the quotes about JGY's fear of NMJ's fierce corpse. The description of JGY going into the coffin is at the end of 108 if you want to have a look, and there's more in 109 and 110 about the difficulty of sealing NMJ's fierce corpse/its power and violence.

#ship meme #ship negativity #this is so goddamn long #how many quotes can I fit in one post? dear god #also there's no way the coffin is actually staying shut for 100 years see ch. 113 #also I didn't want to rely on material that isn't in the final text but if you do look at the scene of JGY cutting NMJ's head off #the same theme of NMJ's fierce corpse's murderous obsession + JGY's fear are very much there #also I'm not sure I'd call it a notp exactly? like obviously I don't see it but there are versions of it I can kind of enjoy #but I figured I was being well by all accounts it doesn't make sense enough that I wanted to circle it as like. a warning XP #we can't change places #anger burned in his heart #more than one tag could contain #long meta

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