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tokiro07 · 21 days

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Undead Unluck ch.220 thoughts

[Here For a Good Time AND a Long Time!]

(Contents: thematic analysis - happiness/autonomy)

All Up From Here

What'd I tell ya? You don't give things a numerical score, cus something better is always capable of coming along. Tozuka himself even incorporated my exact feelings into this chapter!

"I'm as happy as can be, Andy." "What are you talkin' about, Nico?! It's all up from here!!"

Acknowledging that you're happy is of course an important first step to actually being happy, but to say that you can't be happier is to say that you'll never be this happy again, like a preemptive refusal to accept greater happiness in the future

This is also why I don't personally like to throw around "peak" as a compliment, because again it implies that nothing compares now and never will again. It puts the recipient on a pedestal, and forces all further interactions to be analyzed exclusively in comparison rather than on their own

Take me for example: long-time readers of mine know that Medaka Box is my favorite manga of all time, but as UU has continued to grow and evolve artistically and narratively, I've been forced to reexamine my relationship with both series. By insisting that nothing would ever surpass Medaka Box in my heart, I've been actively holding my opinion of UU down, refusing to change the shape of the hole that Medaka Box left in my life to fit UU, afraid that doing so would cause me to forget Medaka Box

...Huh, that sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Andy telling Nico to look forward rather than becoming complacent with his current happiness or previous joys is actually a perfect capstone to their last meeting in the previous loop, as Nico's inability to allow Mico to make him happy in Ichico's place was ultimately what allowed Ragnarok to reach a critical point as quickly as it did. He certainly won't allow it to get to that point again, but rooting himself in the high of getting married rather than looking forward to the perpetuity of married life rings a bit of a bell, and one that Andy is quick to silence

This Too Shall Pass

Andy himself needs to take a future-focused stance like this, as if he doesn't, he would certainly go insane...again. In L100, he spent 200 years trying to kill himself because he saw no future in his immortality, just a constant waste of time with no purpose or goal. He would never find love, and any love he did find would be fleeting, as he would watch everyone he cared for slip away. He'd peaked when he had his gang in the Wild West, and everything since then was downhill

Until he met Fuuko

Once Fuuko was in Andy's life, suddenly every day was better than the last. Every day was fun, every day was worth living, and even when he couldn't see her anymore, when he was stuck eternally burning alive on the sun, he knew that there would be a day when the suffering would end. Because he had something to look forward to, the knowledge that things would get better, Andy was able to put up with literally the most painful hardship anyone has ever experienced without a word of complaint

All thanks to Fuuko

No Fate But What We Make

Fuuko, of course, went through the same thing, just on a much smaller scale. She went through ten years of believing that there was no future in a life where she couldn't touch anyone, and the only thing that kept her going was the serialization of a manga. Once it ended, so too did the roadmap of her life; if the only thing she could look forward to was the next chapter, there was no future without one

It was only when she met Andy that she began to see possibilities for herself, that that there was a reason to keep going. Because of Andy, Fuuko was able to look ahead and make a real plan for herself, to commit to multiple preparations and contingencies across 200 years of loneliness, to lay the foundation for her and everyone else's happiness

All thanks to Andy

But Fuuko interestingly takes the opposite approach here. While she builds her future, she seems to think of it as a culmination of the past. She says that the moment of their meeting wasn't the start of their story, but rather Andy's very creation was the start, that he and his life choices are what brought the present and future into possibility. Fuuko attributes all of her successes to him, a domino chain that simply swept her along

But just like Andy corrected Nico, so too does he correct Fuuko

"It started with you, Andy. If you were never born, then I -" "Ha! It was just dumb luck. You're the one that turned that luck into fate."

In this moment, Fuuko has an external locus of control, believing herself to have been dealt a bad hand and that she just got lucky when she swapped out her cards, but that's not what Andy sees. He sees a woman who made the right calls with what she had, who swapped out the right cards and made the right bluffs to turn a bad hand around and win big anyway, and he doesn't want her to lose sight of that

Just like he doesn't want Nico to think his life is going downhill, he doesn't want Fuuko to think her life isn't in her control. If life isn't in your control, then neither is your happiness; anything you have can be taken away, and you forfeit the ability to take it back. Again, Andy can attest to that: he only found Fuuko by sheer dumb luck

No one orchestrated their meeting, it just happened, and it was only because Fuuko made the choice to embrace the consequences of that meeting that their lives turned out for the best. If Fuuko hadn't pushed herself to kiss Andy and save both of them from being captured by the Union, she likely would have been killed and he probably would have somehow found his way back to being Victor, this persona fading into nothing while still remaining unnamed

When hardships inevitably come Fuuko's way again, she needs to understand that she can't rely on luck to save her, but she can rely on herself. She's proven it a thousand times, and even become someone that everyone else can rely on; with her own hands, she defied everyone's destinies and forged a happy ending for all of them. That's not something that could have just happened by the whims of fate, only by the choices of someone with the strength to take control of their own life. After 100 loops with only subtle variations thanks to the minimal interference of the only one who could, the 101st has the chance to create the perfect ending specifically because Fuuko chose to interfere when given the opportunity

And now she has the opportunity to interfere one last time

Let's Enjoy Life

We've talked about it endlessly at this point, but Ruin is a clear foil to Andy in a ton of ways, and this chapter is a perfect illustration of that concept, literally. Not only is this fight happening on the bridge where Andy and Fuuko first met, the flow of the battle itself is like a speedrun of the first 20 chapters

The meteors and lightning from last chapter, getting hit by a vehicle and reduced to a head (the train in ch.1 or the truck in ch.2), having his body sealed by specially made Union containers (eye-scar guy in ch.1), getting pummeled by Void on the highway (ch.2), facing Shen immediately after (ch.3), then jumping straight to being launched into space by Nyoi Kinko (ch.16). Even the way he talks, insisting "this isn't enough to kill me" is pretty much exactly what Andy and Victor would say whenever anyone would hit them with anything - because he thinks they're trying to kill him

But that's not the goal. It never was

Tozuka played a fun little trick on us from the very beginning of the series. By calling UU "the story of [the] quest for the greatest death ever," the expectation that was set up was that we would see the most extravagant, bombastic and show-stopping death ever put to page, that the goal was to find the one thing that could actually overcome immortality. He made a promise that the story would end with Andy's demise and all the spectacle that came with it

With this chapter, it is clear that this was a promise that Tozuka had no intention of keeping

Not in the sense that Andy won't die, I have a hard time seeing this series ending without that punctuation to his story, but the death itself is no longer the purpose of the journey, and I would argue never really has been. The "greatest death ever" is one that comes at the end of a fulfilling life, one where the deceased is surrounded by people who love them and, even through the tears and grief, everyone can look back and smile. This was the lesson that Fuuko learned in ch.1 as she fell to what she thought was her death; the suicide that was meant to end her suffering simply put into perspective how empty her life had been, and being saved, being held, being shown affection by Andy showed her what her life could be

Ch.1 was a perfect preview of the rest of the series, because as I've said many times over by now, Andy and Fuuko's stories are near identical. Just as Fuuko learned that life needs to be lived for death to have meaning, so too would Andy. And now, two hundred and twenty chapters later, Tozuka has finally paid off that slow burn by having Andy acknowledge that he enjoys life!

And now he wants Ruin to do the same.

"I've got one rule and one rule only!! ... Now, c'mon, You follow it too!! Let's enjoy what life has to offer!!"

"You follow it too."

Andy doesn't want to kill Ruin. He wants Ruin to understand the truth. Ruin loves the world, and that's a start, but he wants to eliminate the thing that makes the world truly beautiful - the people in it. Andy's "ridiculously long life" was pointless because he was alone, and Ruin's life is set to be just as long. He insists that he only needs the Rules, but how long can that sustain his soul? At best, madness is all that awaits him, but as we said, a life that accepts it will never be happier is one that has accepted it will be unhappy

Ruin needs to be shown that his way of life will only lead to unhappiness, and that there's a better way. That loving people and being loved by people is better than hating them and isolating from them. Just like Andy drifted through life ambiently allowing things to happen to him, taking opportunities as they came along rather than actively working towards a goal, so too is Ruin losing control in this fight. He's getting smacked around like a rag doll by the culmination of the life that Andy lived, and the Rules he hid behind to distance himself from humanity can't do a damn thing to help him

When Andy thought there was nothing more he could do, that he had to sacrifice himself to the Union to keep Fuuko alive, she stepped up to save both of them, reaching out to someone else for the first time. That was the moment Andy's life started to change, the moment that Andy was truly born, and I believe that Ruin is about to learn exactly what that's like

Undeath and Rebirth

The official twitter gave us a fun bit of insight this week: in L100, the mark over Ruin's eye that I've been calling a scar this whole time was actually a birthmark. While the mark from Remember on Andy actually is a scar, it was present from the moment of Andy's creation, making it functionally identical to a birthmark

But now, in L101, both of these birthmarks are gone. Andy no longer has Remember, and Victor is no longer trying to return, so his wound has healed; meanwhile, Ruin's natural birthmark has been subsumed by a wound. Andy is no longer defined by his origin and now can look toward the future, while Ruin is likely hiding from his origin, covering it up and ignoring the implications of it

Andy was reborn and able to heal, but Ruin is more damaged than ever; more ruined than ever. With his birthmark gone, the pain of his past can be left in the past, but by marring himself so grievously, there will always be a reminder of it. It will only be once Ruin learns to look forward like Andy, like Fuuko, that he will be able to heal and be reborn as well. It is only then that he will cease to be ruined

Conclusion

Of course, this is all assuming that Tozuka actually cares enough about Ruin to keep him around and actively develop him. For all I know, this is going to be another Kururu situation where I'm filling holes that Tozuka only ever planned to leave empty, but as I've said a thousand times, Tozuka has built up more than enough good will for me to give him that benefit of the doubt. I wholeheartedly believe that Tozuka has a plan for Ruin (and hopefully for Kururu too), but in the end I'll still be okay with it either way so long as he uses them properly to develop and analyze Andy and Fuuko

At the end of the day, Ruin's character has given me another angle to approach our leads from, and that's what a good foil is supposed to do. Even if Ruin doesn't accept the lessons and is made to be an illustration of what happens when one refuses to live their life no matter what, that's just as good narratively, even if it's sad to think about. We'll just have to keep reading and enjoy what Tozuka has to offer, whatever that may be

...Ah, crumbs, do I need to change my sign-off???

The original translation was "let's enjoy life," but presumably for either accuracy or dramatic flair, David Evelyn went with "what life has to offer" this time. Now that it's been introduced in canon, that's the quote that's going to become iconic, and most people won't know about Tozuka's convention appearance or the chapter blurb that only appeared in the original magazine run! "Let's enjoy life" is inevitably going to be forgotten as the phrasing of the sentiment, so should I fight the tides and stick with the original, or accept reality and adapt accordingly...

...Well, when I put it that way, after everything I've said in this review, I think my choice is pretty clear. If anyone wants me to go back to the old way, let me know, but for now:

Until next time, let's enjoy what life has to offer!!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

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stardancerluv · 7 months

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The Past Follows Like Your Shadow

Part 5

Summary: We see some Gator’s life…good bad..

Notes/Warning: 18 & up!!! In this chapter I do a version of the scene where they discuss with Munch failing to get Nadine. Violence ensues (Gator’s arm is broken..and a few implied un - alivings) Gator gets sick..not vivid description. Some of the dialogue is right from the show.

Wanted to show some of Gator’s au life. And realized that flashbacks will be a staple to show the past.

❤️, reblogs, comments & feedback are welcome!

Annoyance was bubbling in him as his keys jangled in his hands. Easily, he opened the front door, the smell of stew and giggles reached him. As he turned to close the door, a hush came from where the giggles had floated from. He rolled his eyes. He hung up his baseball cap then his harness.

Soft footfalls came up from him behind. He stiffened as arms wrapped around his middle. They squeezed him. He patted one of her hands.

He turned to look down at the poofy mess of her hair and big, bright eyes that shone up at him.

“Papa called.” He hated that she referred to his father like that. “He said you need to call him when you get in.”

“Alright. I’ll do that and then I’m taking a shower. How long will the girls be here?”

“Don’t you wanna say hi?” She squeaked out. “There’s been some big news.”

“I asked a question.” He felt his jaw grow tight.

“Oh! Sweetpea, don’t be stern.” She reached up and patted his chest. “Just a little longer. We are having some good games tonight, I already won a dollar.”

He rolled his eyes. “Congrats, sugar baby.” He eased his tone.

She brightened at his pet name for her.

“Now tell me.” He attempted a smile. “What is the big news?”

She giggled. Her eyes bright as the candles that flickered in the jack o lanterns on their steps.

“Y/N, is back in town. You know the girl who slept her way through the football team and even one or two of the cheerleaders.”

He pressed his lips together. He could still taste you from the hungry kisses you shared.

“Oh?” He shrugged. “Is that all?”

She happily nodded.

“Alright, I’m gonna go shower.”

“So you’re not going to come say hello?” She withdrew her arms from around him, and hugger herself. She chirped, rocking on her heels.

“Nah, been a long day.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Alright.” Before he could stop her, she came in for a kiss. He did manage to move and her overly sticky lip gloss hit his cheek.

Nodding, he felt like he had to climb up the stairs to the shower. The shower curtain rings scrapped against the rod, as he pushed the curtain aside so he could turn the knobs. He’d turn up the heat, to distract from not being able to share his bed with you.

When the two of you were kids, you managed to do it twice. Their friends had backed up their alibis; to be fair his friends were afraid of his father and so were yours. It didn’t take much to convince your friends for help.

After pulling off his boots he stripped off his camo pants and shirt, he left them in a heap beside the bath tub. Leaning against the small white pedestal sink, he sneered at his refection, before the steam ate it away.

If that asshole Tommy had not gotten wind of the two of you, maybe life would be different right now.

He groaned as the needles of the hot water prickled his back. Eventually, the water finally beat hard enough to relax him. Finally, allowing him to slouch under the water. He easily soaped of up his body and face, before washing his hair free of the gel.

*******

The sheets were crisp when he pulled them aside and he climbed into bed. He was grateful, to have this quiet moment alone.

Throwing an arm over his eyes, he remembered how he had placed his hands over his eyes as you stripped down to panties and bra before climbing into bed with him. That had been the first time.

You both were a giggling mess. You had shivered as you climbed into the bed beside him; so without thinking, he wrapped his arms around you. He had been too nervous to look down between the two of you. His body certainly knew what he was holding onto. It made the two of you giggle more before you both grew silent for a kiss.

His body reacted again, just as fast remembering how you just looked as he pressed you into the sofa tonight. Still as curvy and beautiful as ever. The sounds you made, he had to bite the inside of his cheek.

The door creaked open, he rolled away. Lights from the hallway hit his eyelids as it poured into the room.

“Don’t forget to turn the light off.” He mumbled and squeezed his eyes closed tighter, if it was even possible.

********

Roy’s words rang in your ears. “You whore of Gomorrah. Get away from my son.” He then tore the blanket away from the two of you, very fast.

You had never been more relieved it was the dead of winter. Gator was like your own furnace, but you both had decided to wear your pajamas. You had heard sometimes people slept naked when they liked each other, you couldn’t imagine what that was like. Sleeping, even with a t-shirt felt almost too naked.

“Father, stop.” A slap rang out. You immediately looked in Gator’s direction, even in that shadowy bedroom, you could see tears glisten in his eyes.

Roy was cloaked in darkness. He looked taller and meaner then usual.

“We’re adults, can’t you just leave us alone.” You hiccuped out.

“The whore speaks.” You saw him raise his hand and you shrank back into your bed.

His father was supposed to be in the next town over investigating a robbery and your parents were in the big city celebrating their anniversary. You would have snuck, Gator out by dusk and he would have rode his bike home. No one would have been the wiser. Your life after that went from tough to bad.

*****

You pushed the memory away. Sighing, you rolled over in the scratchy sheets. Aunt Mavis did not believe in fabric softener. You’d go and get some tomorrow.

Licking your lips as you closed your eyes, you could still taste Gator and mixture of something else, probably that damn vape. You wondered when he had picked that habit up.

Sleepiness began fall over even with the delightful ache between your legs, that made you already want more. Did that make you a horrible person? Were you finally the whore that Roy called you all those years ago. Mary Sue, had always been picture perfect but with a nasty heart, that was probably why she hasn’t been able to take Gator’s seed. You chuckled in the darkness at the thought.

He better not think that now that you are back in town that you’d mother a child for him, to help him carry on the Tillman name.

The velvety darkness of sleep began creep up you. Your eyes grew heavy, as you wondered what was it that he wanted. You would be finished with your aunt’s house by the end of the month, at the very least. And hopefully this time, you’d never come back; even if he looked and felt even better above then you could have ever imagined.

What exactly did Gator want from her. you pushed away the past. You didn’t happily embrace any of this new development, but you were secretly very pleased to know how Gator felt above you again.

******

“Why you want the tiger?” The man garbled out.

It was hard to resist rolling his eyes, or tapping his foot as his father and the older man spoke.

He’d be lying if the man creeped him the fuck out. The way he spoke, his demeanor it didn’t sit right with him.

“She’s my wife.”

“Don’t tell him shit. I already said I can handle this.” He looked up at his father from under the brim of his cap. “We know where she lives now. Her alias.”

He placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back. He looked down. Why did always have to demean him in front of others. Annoyance began to bubble in him. He was his son. He should treat him as such.

“She made vows to me.” Roy Tillman continued. “A pledge. In sickness and in health. Consider it a debt unpaid leaving me in limbo. Husband yes or husband no. See she hid from me nine, ten years ago. Interest accrued. Until the debt could no longer be paid with money.”

Roy paused and glanced at him. He resisted making a face. Behind his back he clenched and unclenched his hands.

“If a man is pure, his actions are only ever good. You believe that?”

“I’m a nihilist.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” His confusion got the better of him. He gestured to the old man.

He slid him a look. It gave him a chill.

“I believe in nothing.”

“You believe in money.” Roy immediately replied.

The man made a face.

“Well, thanks for your help.” Roy added. “Go on with Gator, he will make sure you get paid.”

“Dad?” He was confused. Why would they still pay him after he failed to deliver Nadine.

“Original plus pain and suffering.”

“Sure. Of course. Take it out of the rainy day fund. Take him to the fix ‘em place.”

Unease filled him. He knew what that meant. He didn’t particularly like the idea. But the old man had annoyed him enough. So in the end, who the hell cared.

He gestured for the man to follow him. “Come on, numb nuts.”

“The man is grateful.” The old man replied.

He left the shadowy recesses of the riding pen and walked into the bright day. It oddly comforted him.

He shook his head when he man bent to retrieve the cigarette he had left smoldering earlier.

Leading him to shed was going to be easier then he expected. Almost made him feel relieved. But until this man was gone, he would not relax. Gator inwardly smiled seeing his father’s men prepared and ready. This would be over soon.

The man stopped and took a pull on the cigarette, squinting at him.

“What?” He spit on the ground besides the man’s boot.

When the man didn’t budget, he patted him on the arm. “Hey, hundreds ok?”

A bird distantly chirped, he glanced at it and then back at the man. He didn’t say anything but turned away from him and began to walk again. Once he was few steps away, he finally pulled his gone from his holster. His blood pumped hard in his ears.

“Surprise.” A smirk curled his lips.

The man with no warning lunged at him. He a shot went off. The man grabbed him and got a hold of his gun. Within a breath, still holding him, the man took out two of his father’s men with his gun.

“What are you gonna do now?” He didn’t have time to get scared. He just started right back at those dark eyes.

Distantly, he heard the man toss something, must have been his gun. The man drew even closer, he refused to move. Next thing, he felt a twist and then felt something give, something snap and a scream erupted from him as pain exploded within him.

Not realizing, he had closed his eyes he opened them and the man was gone. He slumped to his knees, the ground felt softer then it ever has; his arm hung loose, beside him. Bile, hot and acrid shot up his throat and he threw up on ragged grass and dandelions in front of him.

“What the fuck happened?” Roy’s sharp voice came from behind him. Blinking in his father’s direction, he was crotched low to the ground with his gun drawn in front of him.

He coughed and spit out the bile that tried to coat his mouth. “Got the damn drop on us. He killed Bob and Lester.” He coughed again.

“Fuck.” His father muttered and walked away.

“What about me?” He called after him.

“Get yourself patched up. We got work to do.” He didn’t even glance back.

*******

The wooden floor boards shone, the wood was warm and comforting once again. The water and soap had to be changed three times. It made you wonder when she last mopped.

When the bell from the dryer rang out from the basement you smiled. Fresh, soft sheets would now be smoothed across that large bed. You could sleep and not have to wear layers for risk of rubbing your skin red with irritation.

Smiling, you laid back with your hands behind your head. You had won a victory with those sheets; they had put up quite a fight.

It had been a good day. The floors were clean, the curtains no longer gave off clouds of dust and the bed, despite still being a very lumpy with soft sheets and blankets you could be sleep on more comfortably. Perhaps, you would actually cook today. You had stocked the fridge. Could be fun, a gas stove wasn’t too difficult to understand.

@delikaitxx @keerygal (hope you don’t mind!)

#joe keery #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery imagine #gator tillman #gator tillman fic #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman angst #fargo fx #fargo s5 #fargo season 5 #your past follows you like your shadow #part 5

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venicemermaids · 1 month

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seeing as i write lucy w passione most of the time (she deserved friends her own age!!!), here's my takes on their dynamics.

♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡

♡ as a whole, lucy feels out of place when she first meets everyone. they’ve accomplished so much in so little time, and so she puts them on a bit of a pedestal. she doesn’t consider herself a part of the group, and often questions her place with them because of her lack of stand and her (percieved) lack of strength. everyone else just assumes she’s shy, which is also part of the truth.

she initially gravitates towards the adults of the group because she’s more used to interacting with older people as opposed to her peers, and is seemingly more comfortable around them.

♡ out of everyone on team bucciarati, trish is the person that lucy’s closest with, and she’s someone that lucy longs to emulate. in her eyes, trish is a confident person who’s always in charge of the situations she finds herself in. because of this, lucy tries to follow her lead as best as she can. with trish’s influence, lucy allows herself to become more outspoken and to voice her needs without feeling guilty about it later.

lucy sees trish as the older sister she never had, and makes it clear that she’s happy they had the chance to meet.

♡ mista is the person that lucy warms up to first, because he always tries to involve her in conversations. she sees him as an older brother figure, and sometimes goes to him for advice if she thinks it’s something trish can’t help her with. whenever she puts herself in danger, he’s always a step behind her as backup. since he doesn’t try to dissuade her, lucy’s more comfortable relying on him in this way.

he taught her how to shoot, but he’ll still have the sex pistols help her out if she really needs it.

♡ lucy was intimidated by narancia to a certain degree, and that’s only because he’s one of the louder members of team bucciarati. once they’re a bit friendlier to each other, narancia’s a bit protective over her. it makes her feel slightly awkward because she’s not used to it, so she shies away sometimes.

narancia’s the one who tries to include her in stuff the most whenever he notices her sitting off to the side away from everyone else.

♡ giorno is someone that lucy holds a deep admiration for, yet she never expresses that out loud. a part of her is intimidated by him as well because she’s aware of how ruthless he can be towards his enemies, and doesn’t want to accidentally anger him too. it’s a little jarring to lucy when she sees him laughing and joking with the others.

as she becomes more comfortable with giorno, she shows a more affectionate side towards him, which manifests in her checking in on him as much as she can.

♡ it shouldn’t be a surprise that lucy and fugo have a good friendship going on. she understands his aversion to touch a bit too well, and will always sit across from him or on opposite ends to respect that. she’s not afraid of his anger, but will try to calm him down anyway– especially if it's anger born from frustration over something someone said or didn’t do.

being more quiet than the rest, sometimes lucy and fugo communicate in non-verbal ways. tilts of the head, blinking in a certain way. it’s something only they understand.

♡ in comparison to everyone else, lucy and abbacchio had a rougher start to their eventual friendship. his tendency to shun others at time and his bouts of sarcasm had her assume he hated her for whatever reason, until she realized that’s just how he is. despite this, abbacchio does have a secret soft spot for her (and trish) that leads him to being slightly nicer to her. still, he doesn’t understand why she’d rather sit inside with him while the others have their fun.

because of abbacchio, lucy decides to learn how to use weapons in the first place. because while she’s independent to a certain degree, she has no self-defense training to speak of.

♡ lucy treats bruno more formally than the rest, even if he’d prefer her to treat him like she does the others. she respects him deeply thanks to how trustworthy he comes off, and because of how much he tries to accommodate her and her timidity. bruno is concerned with how adult she acts in relation to her age, and tries to encourage her to spend more time with the teens of the group.

they both have a tendency to take on other people’s burdens, even to their own detriment. bruno pushes her to do things for herself once in a while.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #steel ball run #vento aureo #lucy steel #trish una #guido mista #narancia ghirga #giorno giovanna #pannacotta fugo #leone abbacchio #bruno bucciarati #i have like... so many thoughts on this little crossover #i said it a long time ago but lucy's backstory would fit right in w the rest #also!! trish and lucy parallels. trish got saved by the mafia while lucy nearly got ruined by it #i would yap about this all day if you let me

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gumballavocadoharry · 3 months

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Shrinking Ray; Brother Harry:

*This was a request! I hope you like it- to the anon who gave such brilliant insight to this one!*

Fire slashes still simmered against the wall of the basement. Lightning sparks still pecked every once in a while through the burns of the rocky pavement. A broken beam collapsed, illuminating the room in particles of sparse dust.

Harry's lip was bitten in; sullen under his top lip. His eyes scanned the room and then flashed back to Yn, his younger sister. "What have you done?" Yn was too afraid to speak. Sure, her powers had gotten out of control and maybe she was partly to blame for that- but it was an accident. But Harry just saw dollar signs after checkbooks and calls to repair men- he didn't see it the way Yn wished he did. "It was a true accident Harry, that's all,"

"That's all? Yn, you destroyed the basement- you think that it's that simple?! It's gonna cost a fortune to repair all this! What is wrong with you- why didn't you practice your powers like I asked?!" Yn looked away, "I'm sorry." Her voice, frail and tapered like a mouse. Harry took in a deep sigh. "You know..... ever since Mom and Dad died, it's been my job to protect you. It was something like this that killed our parents in the first place! That's why, you have to practice your powers yn- practice makes perfect!" Yn swallowed.

Harry's powers were seasoned- mature and controlled in the way she wished hers to be. He could strike a match with the snap of his fingers and laser through hard bullets with the slight of his eyes. Harry could be gentle; calm in his powers and diminutive in his fidelity. But he could be rough- powerful with the clap of his hands to create a atomic blast. His fist could slam through iron, his palms could shoot fire blasts in the color of blue and orange that would bore from his body with diamond stamina.

Yn, still needed practice. She had the privilege of carrying lightning strikes and heat blast and freeze and heat breaths with her. Moving solid materials with the tips of her fingers and dodging danger before it came to her were he birth right powers. But they were loose, out of her control which Harry seemed to frown upon in Yn. 'You should do this,' or 'You have to get a better grip on this Yn,' and her favorite, 'You can do better Yn, you just have to be serious about this.' The nail in the coffin of all the 'little critiques' her 'helpful' brother would give her was painful to say the least. Yn hated it.

She hated being on this pedestal of expected perfection because of who her parents were and who her brother was trying to be. And at 18, she thought that maybe things would be easier.

"I can't believe this," Harry muttered, "oh my gosh, Yn." Yn looked to the side, "I was just trying to be like you..... I want to save the world like you Harry." Harry looked at Yn, "Are you serious?" he laughed, "you ruined the entire basement Yn, why would I let you save the world when you can't even help yourself?!" That hurt. A lot.

Yn darted upstairs to main level of the house with tears clouding her vision. She slammed her bedroom door and cried into her pillow. It wasn't fair. Harry is the city's beloved superhero and all Yn wanted was to be apart of that. But no... she was just one big screw up who could never amount to anything. Yn's self pity then turned to anger. Anger at Harry. Looking to the first device that was kept in the vault part of the house, Yn blasted herself with it. Maybe it didn't do anything? She thought until she saw that the door frame was way bigger than she was.

"YN!?" A loud voice shouted. It scared her, riveting through her eardrums like train sirens. Upon hearing the hefty footsteps coming in her direction, Yn ran and hid behind the stairs- to the front of them on the first step against the beam. "YN WHERE ARE YOU, WE HAVE TO TALK!" Yn stayed quiet. Perhaps he wouldn't even hear her anyway. "YN I'M SORRY ABOUT WHAT I SAID, BUT YOU HAVE TO COME OUT NOW!" Yn stayed quiet. When she saw the worried look on Harry's face, she finally cracked. "Harry, I'm down here!"

Harry turned around thinking he heard something but quickly turned back to where he was walking. "YN, PLEASE COME OUT.... I'M REALLY SORRY ABOUT WHAT I SAID. I NEVER MEANT TO HURT YOUR FEELINGS LIKE THAT... I LOVE YOU BABY SIS.... YN?" Yn carefully walked up to Harry and shot her lightning strike his way. Surprised, he looked down and saw a little Yn looking back at him. "YN?" She nodded as she was carefully invited onto Harry's hand and was gently lifted to his eyes. "Yn, there you are.... why are you so little?" Before she could speak, Harry's eyes widened,

"Did you use the shrink ray?" A stiff smile appeared across her face. Harry shook his head, "Oh Yn.... one thing after the next." Tears bubbled in her eyes again. They slowly dripped onto Harry's palm. "I'm sorry Harry..... I'm sorry I ruined the basement, I'm sorry I shrunk myself and I'm sorry for being such a big disappointment to you and to Mom and Dad."

"Yn! That's not true! You are not a disappointment!" Harry looked to the side before looking back to you again, "I'm sorry about what I said before- honest. I shouldn't have been so hard on you about the basement. We all make mistakes- I know I did when I was still learning." Yn wiped her eyes. "Thanks Harry for saying that...." Harry gave his sister and small smile and set her down on the ground. He grabbed the shrink ray and reversed the effects of the ray. Returning to normal size, Yn was able to see Harry's face more clearly. Mellowed and calm than how it was.

"Come her Yn," Harry gave Yn a hug- wrapping his arms around his sister with deep compassion. "I love you.... and I'll help you- for real, not criticizing you." "Thanks Harry, that would be perfect." Harry kissed the top of Yn's head. "I love you too Harry." Yn looked up in Harry's eyes and let him hug her for as long as he could.

She never wanted him to let go.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles and yn #harry styles fanfiction #brother!harry #brother harry #protective older brother #harry styles fanfictions #harry one shots #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles love #harry ❤️ yn #harry x yn #harry and yn

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iny-jays · 1 year

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Sup? I wrote something again for Raya, this time with Prava. It’s based on a side quest in Kyovashad and takes place before D4.

"You... aren't going to tell the Cathedral, are you?"

Raya sighed. How many times had she heard that question.

"It is not my intention to pass judgment. That being said, there's probably little your daughter can do about it."

The teenager touched the girl's forehead with a wet rag. She had a high fever and her breathing was labored. Some demonic virus. Raya could feel the darkness inside her, and yet it was too weak to be a demon itself. What the hell is this?

The father stroked his hands nervously. He was afraid. Afraid for his daughter, but Raya knew full well that he was also afraid of what the Cathedral would do if they found out about it. Such a virus would spread quickly in the city, and it was actually Raya's duty to report it. But when she saw the fragile child in front of her, she immediately dismissed that thought. She would be executed. She had to find another solution.

"My wife always had a mixture of herbs with her that is supposed to keep the evil spirits away, but it didn't help. She is much worse, she sometimes speaks unclear. What can we do!?"

"I'm afraid it's not ghosts that are haunting your daughter."

The girl made an ugly gurgling sound.

"Ohhh.... my little girl." The father dropped to his knees and bent over his daughter's body. A distraught father and a dying child, just what she needed today. Raya groaned. Prava was expecting her to be back soon.

„The priests have purification relics with them, blessed with the light of Inarius.“ She told the man.

Unfortunately, Raya was not a priestess, and unfortunately, that was probably the only thing that would help the girl. Damn, why couldn't she have a Paladin or Crusader as friends?

„And that relics, can help her?“

„Probably...“

Crap. "I'll try what I can without the Cathedral knowing, but I can't promise. Please stay here."

"...Thank you, Miss."

Am I really going to do this? Raya went to the Cathedral vault and stared at the doors. In front of them, some knights stood as guards and pretended to ignore her. Prava would hopefully not be too angry... at least that's what the teenager tried to tell herself. Reverent Mother Prava took her and her brother in when they were very young. Raya's parents died in a house fire set by bandits, half their village torched, though she barely remembers it. Prava was still very young herself, but there was already a lot of responsibility on her shoulders. Responsibility in which, in Raya's opinion, she sometimes exaggerated a little... All in the name of the Father. Would Inarius really mind if a relic disappeared from the cellar? Raya doubted it.

"What are you up to again?" One of the knights stopped her from taking another step.

"Prava sent me to get something from the vault." She tried to speak as casually as possible.

"Hmm and what exactly is this supposed to be?"

"Is this a survey?“ Raya countered, raising an eyebrow and feigning surprise. "Are you a new Cathedral inquisitor?"

The knightess leaned forward slightly.

"Is that an answer?"

Her heart was pounding. She leaned in closer, matching the knight's gaze.

"You know, if I were to disclose the nature of my task to a non-authority figure, it could be considered a breach of protocol. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" She let a mischievous grin play on her lips.

Raya's words had struck a nerv. After a brief moment, he straightened his posture and stepped aside. "Very well, go on. But don't make me regret this."

It let her feel a little bad knowing he will for sure regret it.

Before the knight could change his mind, Raya entered the vault of the cathedral. The air was dimly lit and filled with countless relics. She searched the shelves and pedestals for the relic she needed - a purification relic blessed with the light of Inarius. Finally, her eyes fell on a golden chalice decorated with ornate engravings. Raya's heart skipped a beat; this had to be it. She approached the chalice and carefully placed it in her hands. Its energy hummed gently on her skin, confirming her intuition.

As she made her way back to the house, doubts and fears gnawed at Raya's conscience. Had she done the right thing? Would Prava disapprove of her actions? She brushed aside her uncertainty and reminded herself of the innocent life that was at stake.

Returning to the father and his sick daughter, she placed the relic beside the girl's bed and murmured a prayer to herself, invoking the light of Inarius to dispel the darkness that oppressed the child.

The child made a strange choking sound when she suddenly began to cough. Her father was pacing nervously. "Is it working?"

Raya was silent. She had no idea.

Then a new sound, as if the child wanted to scream, but nothing came out of her. A black cloud erupted from her mouth and dissolved into the air. The girl slumped down. Obviously weakened, but alive.

"It worked."

Tears of gratitude came to the father's eyes as he hugged his daughter.

"Thank you, miss," he whispered, and his voice was filled with deep relief.

Raya smiled. „Nothing to thank me for, really.

"There comes a time when enough is enough. I'm tired of hearing your constant excuses, Raya." Reverend Mother Prava sighed. "I'm beginning to not know how to teach you that obedience is a virtue."

"I only wanted to help," Raya said, her voice trembling. "I didn't want to see that child suffer... and I believed that the relic could heal her."

Prava's face softened for a moment, but her stern demeanor stayed. "Your intentions do not absolve you of the consequences of your actions," she stated firmly. "The path of Light requires discipline, sacrifice, and obedience. You have strayed from that path."

Raya rolled her eyes, what earned a hard look from Prava. "If you choose to continue down this path of sin, disregarding our teachings and the authority of the Cathedral, then I fear I will have no choice but to bring your actions before Inarius himself. He will be the one to judge your fate."

„Oh you have to be kidding me!?"

Prava's stern gaze bore into Raya's eyes. "It seems to me you lack understanding," she sighed heavily. "Let us meet in Kor Valar."

Raya's frustration bubbled to the surface, and she couldn't hold back . "You seem to be quite eager to get rid of me, don't you?" she hissed, as she stormed out of the room, Prava's voice followed after her. "I only want what's best for you, Raya. Your brother will be proud if you choose the right path."

Prava better not drag her brother in on this.

#diablo #oc #original character #diablo iv #raya #raya nur #fan fic #writing #fan fiction #diablo 4 #Prava

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mirrorsoftheotherself · 1 year

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Some self-indulgent(?) rambles about how I developed this whole AU-

Originally, the whole role swap idea was random and simple. Swap the Personas with their Users. The whole thing of the original story came... I dunno... A few weeks after I had the concept? And it was just the basics. I used a couple old Rinmaru dressup games to get a baseline concept for the Mirror Trio and their Personas. i had their names. I had the premise.

After that, through RP, I gradually expanded upon them as characters.

At first, Messiah Anima was simply just Messiah. However, I renamed him to how he's named now to help differentiate him.

I wanted to make a fangame but that went nowhere unfortunately due to a lot of things being beyond my scope. But it was through the early days of it that I got the first proper references for everyone. Big shoutout to Jamhardt on Instagram for that.

I also learned a few things in terms of RPG Maker-

It took me many, MANY hours to get Messiah Anima's model done. The model assembly process became much more easier thanks to the help of a lot of helpful people from the VRChat community. This also lead me to improve my own 3D modeling skills, even making some models from scratch!

I have 24 chapters (each of varying length) in the fanfic so far. I want to continue updating but the battery for that is still low. I'll get to it eventually... But I've already got a good start!

And it's so amazing to me how far I've come skill-wise because of this whole thing... How much has evolved over time...

Which is funny because I said at one point that the whole story is like an analogy to the struggles of an artist of any form. There are so many possibilities and what-ifs out there that you are able to bring to life with what you create or with your actions in life. So many ideas to come up with. But, with every step, something will get in your way of that. Something that might make you give up.

Maybe you're not in a sound state of mind to do anything; the emotional distress from whatever may be plaguing you (tragedy, illness, etc) might take away that spark and leave you drained. Maybe it just doesn't feel the same as before. Maybe it all lost its charm....

Maybe you're in a place where you're overworking yourself. Maybe you were put on a pedestal (either of your own will or so suddenly) and want to make sure you please everyone. Maybe you're afraid of what might happen when it all crumbles. Maybe you lose sight of your self along the way. You might be so close to burning out due to all of that pressure...

Maybe you just want to do the right thing but so many factors make it hard to do so. When the bad speaks louder than the good... When manipulations run rampant... When you can be taken out of context so much which can lead to many things of detriment... There's so much that can overwhelm you even when you do want to fight for the sake of what's right or even just to protect those you care for. When will it be too much? Will you just become complacent instead of resistant? Maybe you'll end up keeping everything you stand for to yourself out of fear...

But you can heal. You can grow beyond these uncertainties and doubts. While it all may linger, you learn to deal with them. You may have your bad days but that doesn't mean good days aren't on the horizon. You still have so much more you can give, even if you don't think so. You can still create.

You can still regain that spark.

You can still be vulnerable, find your self, and know your limits.

You can still fight.

And through that healing... Through fighting against the temptation to give up... You can create something wonderful. The road is rough, scary, and long... But that doesn't mean it's impossible to traverse. Not everyone crosses that road the same way of course. Cross it how you feel is best for you.

I think having that theme in place for a story based within an alternate universe of all places speaks volumes to me. What is a fanwork if not a well of creativity? You can take a simple concept but your vision of it can be different from another's. And while it may be a shame that some works out there never get a chance to continue developing, it's still amazing that they got to exist at all despite it... That we still get to enjoy them.

This whole AU has existed for over two years now. I hold everything so dear to my heart due to how much it helped me grow as a person... Even if that growth was mainly in my skillset. I'm glad I get to share it with everyone.

The story isn't over. The blog may portray everything after the plot concludes but that doesn't mean the story isn't being written still. There's a lot to think about... And it's a challenge to portray the boys as they were at the start when I mainly portray them after the end. But, as a writer, it's a challenge I'm willing to take.

I also hope I conveyed my point well.

#blog://ooc #TL;DR: I've come so far and I'm glad to share this with you guys!

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221bluescarf · 2 years

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(tw possibly triggering ed talk)

When I got my period back for like 2 months after not having one for almost 2 years, it was one of the most devastating things I've ever experienced (ok possibly an exaggeration) I'm not talking about pain or gross or messy or annoying. I'm talking about feeling like I'm being stepped on, punished, being put in my place, having control snatched away from me, feeling like life is showing me who's boss. It felt like everyone I encountered *knew*, and were so satisfied to see me dragged back to normality.

Likewise losing it again felt triumphant, like I won, I beat life, I overcame life's stupid rules.

I'm not saying I'm better than anyone who's having a period. I'm saying for *me* anorexia™ beats me senseless because I failed to please it.

I'm happy for people who get healthy and people who recover. I think it takes more strength than anything to be recovered. I put you all on a pedestal and you deserve it. You deserve a medal and I'm not being sarcastic.

Right now I'm saying this because I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll never recover because there's too many scary things. It's not just "getting fat" by ed standards, it's getting color back in your skin, it's having your bones stop hurting, it's no longer having your heart feel like it's going to stop.

#tw ed #personal #tmi #ed things #edulting #ana problems #relapse #period mention #221bluescarf.txt

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dumbbitchfrommars · 7 months

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"princess diana"

why is my making an effort to look and feel pretty, when i am in a low place, trying to break away and distract myself from the seemingly endless stress and turmoil my life is right now, exactly WHY is that such a fucking crime?

why is it that i feel like such a caricature of a woman when i make an effort to feel in touch with my feminine side? why does it feel like an overcompensation, an oversaturated and overdone attempt at hiding behind a costume? why when i look at my sisters in their many different states of being, does it all seem so effortless, when all i want is to feel like myself, like my best, like im beautiful too.

why is it such a crime to want that feeling of security and safety for myself?

i am completely afraid of going on this trip and having to face my true self, to be vulnerable with a person i dont trust and avoid completely, to know that everyone sees the block that i have in me and how pathetic it is that i can barely break through. like they all clearly have. because theyre all so fucking emotionally grown.

apparently i hide behind my maturity to avoid my wounded inner child.

all of the sudden im walking around with a target on my back.

maybe i was too quick to stop seeing my psychologist?

cause right now all i feel is rage and frustration and pain. because i really do feel like im alone, and no one including myself can make me feel safe. yet all i have ever done is try to make everyone else feel safe in my presence. when will this energy be returned to me?

why is it such a crime to ask for these things for myself? why am i so unworthy? because i dont have a fucking second to be alone when its all i fucking crave from life? for the past month all i have wanted was a second to return to myself. to workout again, to do yoga again, to go for a walk with myself again, to appreciate the lovely little beauties in life that only i can share with myself because there is no one else like me. to see from the perspective that i lost and quickly became more and more restricted the more i felt in survival mode. trying to rush to get every task done. every task that no one else would ever do.

right now it feels like no one truly appreciates the uniqueness of who i am. they just see all my flaws and weaknesses. i guess trying is not good enough, i guess something has to change.

somethings gotta give.

my best change comes from distancing myself from external energies when i come to these roadblocks and uncomfortable feelings within me, but it seems like distance could be a hard thing to reach at the moment.

even the fucking cat doesn't like me.

nobody likes me when im miserable.

its the cold hard truth.

nobody likes you when youre miserable.

sorry! dont like you. good luck with your depression and anxiety. youre on your own now.

i understand in a sense, not having the time or patience for it. i feel like maybe when you reach that plateau of spiritual growth you do tend to step up on the pedestal above all the puny, pathetic undeveloped non-spiritual folk.

what makes them any different to me in this scenario?

not nice being the one below looking up huh.

the difference between me and the people who i cut off - people i slowly distanced myself away from and never once was hurtful or bullied, just genuinely stop resonating with and took the step back from - is that i am making an active effort to try become better.

but apparently my own timing doesnt work for you. apparently my process doesnt look like yours and therefore is not valid. and so i become the butt of a joke that im not laughing at. or i am... because im a people pleaser.

fuck my life.

am i not allowed this one moment? this one reprieve from the shittiness of my situation at the moment to be completely and annoyingly drained, pathetic and enraged? is that not allowed anymore????? let me fucking live my life! this was my first day off in god knows how long, and i still ended up with a schedule jammed full of plans to run around doing things for other people!

im supposed to be writing my FUCKING THESIS!!!

my fucking fucking fuckoubgrafubnbge thesis .

AND OF COURSE TO TOP IT ALL OFF MY DUMBASS COWORKER OVERCHARGED ME WHEN I CAME IN SPECIFICALLY BUYING A PRODUCT FOR THE FUCKING DISCOUNT HE WAS SUPPOSED TO FUCKING APPLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ugh.

its so exhausting to carry all these pent up emotions around with me. like a child. a child who doesnt know what to do with it all because its too big.

the most hurtful thing to me is that no one shares my unconditional love and adoration for all small humans and animals. especially dogs. even the ones who claim to be the closest to me, my best friend, sisters. to not share it, to not even acknowledge it in me, to reject that part of me. to judge that part of me. who the fuck do you think you are? claiming to love me and not see that side of me. to not want to see it. to ignore it. to reject it...

some part of me... i think its my inner child. its a part of my inner child. but not me when i was little... me when i was bigger, but still little. she wants me to sit it out tomorrow. to leave myself out to send the message that im hurt, and im angry, and i dont want anything to do with people who hurt me. that they have done something wrong, and should know that something is wrong, but i wont tell them why.

then theyll ask me what happened, and ill say nothing even though its something. and hold onto that pent up resentment until the next thing goes wrong.

or i tell them, and its explosive, and messy, and poorly executed, and very well mean the end of the relationship in its entirety. all for a small moment that triggered an insecurity in me.

god im so sensitive. im so sensitive but no one wants to see it. no one wants to acknowledge it. because my walls are so far up that i wont let them. and when they notice... well. i guess it doesnt matter.. because ive been hiding so long. im always hiding. whenever it shows, its rejected. i keep feeling so rejected. what the fuck is going on with me...

i feel like a pathetic child.

im hurt.

im tired, im exhausted, im burnt out, ive overextended myself, all i want is for things to be light and fun again but it feels like it never will be. it feels like it wont get better in time for the trip or the festival. it feels like im gonna let everyone down. it feels like im just one huge disappointment.

what happened to not taking things personally?

i keep thinking that to myself. but thinking it and embodying it are two different things. im repeating the words to myself like a whisper in the background, as i watch myself continue to fall deeper into this despair of "why me?" like a viewer behind a TV screen.

i actually have noticed ive been disassociating a lot more than usual lately. im just mentally checked out. i wish i could just... disappear somewhere. somewhere totally isolated where i could be by myself. maybe ill get that at the festival. maybe what i feared, being abandoned, will be exactly what i need. to just float in the water and stare at the sky for as long as i need to forget all my problems.

i dont know whats going on with me now but i just hope its over soon. i hope its over before it gets bad enough for me to revert to my old ways. i just want to be okay again. i just want to feel safe again, and to not be afraid, and to not be angry, and to be in love with life again. to be in love with myself, to accept myself, to not hate myself, to not be angry with myself, to not feel like its all coming apart, to not feel like im doing it all wrong when im giving it my all.

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yoooespinosa · 3 years

Note

could you please write a draco x reader fic, where the reader is hopelessly in love with draco, and she's not afraid to show it. but draco doesn't feel the same. and draco being draco, he rejects the reader with no remorse. then when the reader finally comes to the realization that she deserves better, she started seeing new people (not necessarily dating, but more like talking), then that's when draco feels a bit jealous now that the reader isn't all over him anymore. the rest is up to you, love! just something really angsty, you could end it in any way you'd like.

also, sidenote. you're an amazing writer and i love you!!

a/n: Thank you for your request! ily <3

To say you had a crush on Draco Malfoy, was an understatement.

You couldn't help it, you couldn't just stop the feelings you developed every time he came around.

When he walked into the room it was butterflies breaking out of their cage, palms growing sweaty and your heart racing so fast you were scared you'd be able to see its indentions.

It was scary at first, to have such feelings at only thirteen years old. So you did your best to ignore them. You did your best to stay out of his way.

That only worked for so long.

When you are friends with Draco and the people that surround him, it becomes very hard to stay out of his path.

So it was only inevitable that your crush on him would become so much more. Especially as the years went on.

He hadn't made it much easier. Sometimes you felt as if, maybe, he returned your feelings. How could you think otherwise? With the way he walked with you to class, carried your books at times and spent time with you. Just you. Alone.

How could you not fall in love with him.

With all that simmering in you, you finally let it out. You made your affections obvious, not afraid to show Draco how you felt for him. You had thought it was welcomed. You thought that the feelings would be returned.

It seemed as though he could only tolerate you for so long. Yes, that was the right word for it, the only thing he had for you was toleration.

Your shoes sounded on the stone under you, on your way to the Slytherin common room. You had just got out of detention with professor Snape. You suppose it was well deserved, you had seen Draco almost put the wrong ingredient in his potion, so you being you had wandered to his table and helped him, much to Snapes dismay.

Whispering the password, you made your way through the dim passage. Chattering of people from all years and faint laughter was heard all around.

You spotted your friends right away, seated by the green flamed fireplace, as usual.

"She just can't take a hint." You heard Draco grumble, you paused your steps, you didn't mean to eavesdrop but it seemed as if your feet had a mind of its own.

"Wait," Blaise closes the book he had in his hold. "who are we talking about again?"

Pansy sighs, seeming they had been on the topic for some time. "We're talking about y/n."

Your brows furrow. Going back to the first thing you heard Draco say, she just can't take a hint, what was that supposed to mean. What hint?

"Why can't you just tell her how you feel?" Theo adds, his voice is laced with annoyance, maybe this isn't the first time they've talked about this.

"I thought how I felt would be obvious enough, without having to say anything." He huffs.

"Well," Theo sighs. "apparently not."

You were becoming anxious. What were they talking about and what exactly was Draco feeling? There was streak of hope in you, maybe he'd confess right here that he felt the same.

"What do you suggest I say then, oh-wise-one?" Draco asks teasingly.

"Easy, just say exactly what you tell us." He clears his throat dramatically, adopting a mock version of his voice, "Y/n, you have to be one of the most annoying girls, I have ever had the dissatisfaction of meeting. Please, oh please take the hint and leave me alone because these attempts at getting at me are getting more pathetic each time." He finishes with a clumsy curtsy.

The other Slytherins try to stifle their laughs.

You hadn't even noticed the gasp that escaped your throat until four heads turned to your direction.

"Y/n, I didn't kn-" You cut of Theo's words and apologetic stare.

"Is that true?" You ask Draco, your voice low, laced with hurt. Your nose was stinging and your bottom lip hung heavy, but you refused to cry in front of them. You wouldn't give them another weakness to laugh about.

Draco managed to keep his face blank, no emotions shining through. He shrugged, "Pretty much summed it up."

You almost flinched. He didn't even care about the hurt those words brought you.

You left without a look back. Leaving behind your friends call of your name. They weren't the ones you wanted an apology from. They had known how much you felt for him and didn't even bother telling you that it was definitely not mutual. They even laughed, like it was a joke, like your heart was a comedic topic.

The cold air hit your face, freezing against the tear stain tracks. You sat on a lone stone bench in the court yard, letting those tears make a home on your cheeks.

It wasn't obvious--his dislike to you. If it was, you would have gave up long ago. But a part of you felt that there was hope and you had chased after that.

Why couldn't he have just told you when you first let your affections known, it seemed that he had encouraged it back then, with lingering touches and soft smiles.

Looking back now, you notice that those advantages had slowly disappeared. You had been too caught up in his silky hair, those gray eyes filled with mirth and mischief, his angular face with high bones that no one could compare to, that you hadn't notice everything was unrequited.

A sick part of you even felt honored to have your heart broken in the hold of his beautiful hands, the part that saw him do no wrong.

Maybe that was the first problem, you put him on a pedestal, so high up you weren't able to see anything negative of him. You weren't able to see his cruel reality of his feelings towards you.

And he didn't even seem sorry. He didn't even look bothered by the damage of his words.

You were so nice and considerate to him. You would support him at every quidditch game, cheer the loudest even when he lost. You bought him presents for every one of his birthdays and even Christmas, each one sentimental and thoughtful. You had comforted him when he got those letters, that he despised, from his father. You had voiced encouragements when he showed a little tell sign of his insecurities. You had been there for him.

And he treats you like this, like you can be so easily dismissed. You didn't deserve that, you didn't deserve to be called pathetic for having normal feelings and then being laughed at for it.

The longer you sat on that cold bench, the angrier you got. A bitter feeling growing in your stomach, melting away those knots.

You wasted all this time and effort on some guy who didn't even deserve it, some guy who didn't appreciate you. It wasn't fair.

"Hey, you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through your revelations.

You looked up and met green eyes framed with circular glasses.

"Yeah. I was just thinking." You mumbled, the bitter taste was stuck on your tongue, you wanted rid of it.

"Mind if I sit and think with you?" Harry asked, he was nervously scratching the back of his neck, smiling warmly at you.

You offered him a smile, welcoming his genuineness. "Go ahead."

He sat there with you for hours. Surrounded by the sound of wind. It was nice and comfortable. The bitter feeling leaving you completely. You were content now, even if you could still feel the ache in your arms from holding onto Draco for so long.

Weeks had passed. Weeks of no signs of you. The first week Draco hadn't been worried, a little curious, but that was all. The longer it went on though, he became a little more than curious. Not because he cared, cause he didn't, just that if something happened to you, it would be his fault. His rejection was the reason you ran off like a fool to who knows where.

Which is the only reason he went looking for you. He already got a lot of shit from the others, he didn't need more problems stacking up.

He checked all of your favorite places. Starting with that tree down by the black lake that you enjoyed to lean on and watch the sun go down, the sunset wasn't near so he should've known you would not have been there.

He then went to the gardens, there was a bench there that was next to a small pond. It was filled with odd creatures and was home to your favorite flowers, lotus's. You weren't there either.

Lastly, he went to a certain abandoned hall. You had to be there. You went there to be alone with your thoughts, you had taken him with you there a few times. There was a big window there with a thick ledge, streams of sunlight beamed through and tiny rainbows would reflect on the opposite wall due to the cracks on said window.

He heard you before he saw you. A soft laugh reverberating through the empty hall, a laugh he had always found annoying. Hearing it now though, just made him want to get closer to you.

So he did, walking with light footsteps. He froze, you were not alone. Sitting there in the space he once accompanied, was Harry fucking Potter. What kind of sick joke was this?

Why were you sitting with him? And does that mean you just laughed at something he said?

Your laugh sounded through again, once piercing now melodic. It was a bitter feeling, Potter shouldn't have the honor of dragging that sound out of you, he shouldn't even witness it.

Draco left the hall before either of you saw him, he needed to get himself in check.

More weeks passed. Weeks of you hanging out with Potter. You were doing things with him that you had done with Draco.

It was on purpose, you had to be doing it on purpose. You were simply trying to make him jealous and it was annoyingly working.

But how could you be doing that when you didn't even look back to see a reaction.

Draco didn't know what to think. He didn't even know what to feel, or more like let himself feel. Something had changed in the weeks you were away from him.

A revelation of sorts. He missed you. Missed what you would do for him. He regretted what he said and what he never had the chance to say. Because maybe deep down those feelings had been returned, but he was just too stubborn to show.

And now he's seeing you realizing that you deserve more than blurred lines and assumptions. And he's realizing maybe Potter is that more that you deserve.

Draco doesn't like that one bit, he can't even stomach the thought. So he promises to himself that he will do everything in his power to win you back. Even if that means saying that he was sorry and admitting that he was in the wrong, something he's never had to do before.

But if that makes you his again and gets you away from Potter, then its worth it.

Part 2

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Text

~ 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ~

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝; SMUT!!! a smidge of angst and a lil fluff, felix x fem!reader. enemies to fwb, bullying!!!, highschool!au, blowjob, pierced!felix, mentions of complicated family relationships/bad economy, felix being rude lmao, PIV, unprotected sex (use protections ffs, this is a bad example), orgasm (m/f), cum, nicknames, shy reader, fingering.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝; 6.6 k

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎; Consent is like tea or my personal favorite,,, tea slut HSAHSHA PLEASE im- anyways enjoy both tea and consent, both very very sexy and good for you

also,,, my first kinda long fic??

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺; Lee Felix. The class bully. Also the son of a wealthy business man. You didn’t have the same privileges, living alone at such a young age. After an arrangement Felix invites you to work at his fathers old tea shop but this relationship turns into something unexpected.

The cold wind blew on your exposed calfs, the skirt of the school uniform fluttering as your backpack was lazily thrown across your shoulder, your head turned to the direction the bus comes from. You were not the only one on that bus stop. Other students standing at least a feet apart from each other, all eagerly waiting to hurry back to their comfortable homes, eat dinner and start on their assignments.

You on the other hand had other plans.

What was on your computer screen wasn’t the typical essay or sheet of physics questions. It was job applications. And lots of them.

A notification arrived, your phone vibrating in your coat pocket and as the screen lit up you saw a message.

[ Rent due today y/n, have it in by 8 ]

Living by yourself in a dusty apartment that contained nothing more than a bed, a desk and a tiny kitchen overfilled with noodle packets was nothing to be proud of. You could barely afford that type of lifestyle since you were a student so how on earth were you gonna get rent in to the old lady that served as your landlord?

You sighed, the packed bus rolling slowly on the way and stopping, there barely being place to stand in the crowded vehicle.

Your apartment was right above an old tea shop, the owner being a wealthy man that owned several shops on the block. His busy lifestyle including buying and selling properties kept him away from his true passion in life; tea. What scared you was his resemblance to a person you knew. A person you knew too well.

Lee Felix

His only purpose in life was to have fun. To ruin others. And he had every opporunity to do so. His report card was nothing but lies and money, his fathers wealth being able to buy him decent grades without lifting a finger. There was one, only one, instance where the young boy would try his best and that’s when intimidating others. His best skill. Those piercing dark eyes and knife-sharp jaw could leave anyone shaken for days.

But do you know who his favorite person to bully was?

You.

All the hurtful memories eventually started to merge together but one stood out clearly to you. It happened a year ago. You walked into the sunlit classroom, your other classmates sitting around their desks, chatting and showing each other photos, laughing happily. Friends was not something you had, more like acquaintance. The students you would greet and exchange a couple of words with but nothing more. Your assigned seat was in the third row, the one sitting right behind you being Felix himself. With a quick glance at the clock you looked underneath your desk, searching for the book you needed for english class, your eyebrows furrowing as you searched desperatly, turning every book over and ripping open your backpack, did you forget it at home?

“Looking for this?”

The cold voice sent a shiver down your spine, you slowly turning back, afraid of what evil gaze awaited you. You gulped as you saw his angular facial structure, his cheekbones pertruding as he held your english book in his hand, the arms of the white school uniform shirt being rolled up just enough to show off his blinged out watch, veins softly trailing upwards on his flexed arms.

You nodded to which Felix scoffed. Sighing you stood up, standing at the side of his desk and all of a sudden throwing yourself over it in a quest of snatching it from his grasp but failing epically, you falling down onto the floor, scraping your knees on the rough wooden flooring of the classroom. You try to stand up but was quickly stopped by Felix grabbing your face with his other hand, his wrists decked out with multiple delicate chains, all jingling with his movements.

Meeting his gaze made your skin crawl, his eyes almost animalistic as he looked deep into your innocent doe-eyes, smirking. His blonde hair falling on each side of his face, framing it like a renaissance painting since his stoic features was art in itself. Your eyes lingered a bit too long on Felix’s making the boy annoyed, before you knew it a clear liquid was spilling down your cheek, that not being tears but instead Felix’s spit. You flinch back as he waves the book infront of your face, tears jerking in the corner of your glossy eyes due to the humiliation, your other classmates forming a circle around the two of you, unable to do anything since that could mean the end of them.

“You want this, you want it so bad? What’s that angel? You’re gonna cry?”

He crouches as your gaze lowers to the floor, hair hanging infront of your face as a shield from his degrading words as the tears started pouring out of you like water, mixing with Felix’s saliva. He laughs psychotically, the cold laughter echoing in the classroom, tiny specs of dusty floating around like bubbles in a fizzy drink. The bold boy puts down the book on the floor behind him before he raises his hand, you shutting your eyes tightly, expecting the worst but being surprised as his hand laces in your disheveled locks. He pushes a strand of hair behind your flushed ear, leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath hit the shell of your ear.

“I’m gonna give it to you,,, but I want something in return”

You snap your head up to look at him, your eyes wide open, eyebrows hightened.

“W-what do you want?” you say, only for him to hear.

Felix hums, running his tongue in the inside on his cheek before speaking in a low voice.

“You”

You choked on your own spit, coughing as you turned away from him. You could hear his laugh ringing in your ears and after your coughing fit you turned back hastily, eyes as big as saucers. This couldn’t be true, this couldn’t be what you though it was. In sheer panic you once again tried to snatch the book, crawling on the floor like a bug in order to snake around his back to have a chance to grab the corner of plastic outside of the textbook but being met with disappointment when Felix slammed his foot on it, you retracting your hand after being mere inches away from his shoe. The boy tsked.

“I expect you at the school gate by the end of the day and if you don’t show up you’re gonna pay for it, understood angel?”

You nod, just nod. No words or mimicks. Simply a nod. His intimidation wiping the entire alphabet from your mind.

He stands up, grabbing the book and throwing it at you before exiting the classroom, a evil smirk plastered on his face. The sharp gazes of other students around you made you want to escape but you couldn’t, class was starting in 2 minutes.

♡

The sun shone it’s rays on your face, students exiting through the wide white metal gates. You ran your hand through your hair, pulling the straps of your backpack impatiently at you looked left to right, seeing the flowers blossom out in the rather windy weather. Suddenly your wrist was grabbed by a hand wider than yours.

It was Felix.

His closeness made you gulp loudly, a lump nestling into your stomach as you felt your anxiety rise, scared of what he might do to you even if you did find him strangely attractive even though he was a complete asshole. But who didn’t? The entire school was ready to give up their life in order to even be this close to the boy, girls and boys alike. You shook your head, wanting to get rid of the silly thoughts that clouded your mind. Only after minutes did you realise that your legs moved on their own, you being dragged by Felix, his hand still on your wrist.

“W-where are we going?” you inquired, the wind blowing on the blonde pierced boy, his angelic hair bouncing with every step.

“Don’t worry about it” he said, not speaking a single more word during the entire time he held your wrist and walked with you in the spring weather.

All of a sudden the two of you were standing infront of the tea shop, you lifting your head to glance upwards at your dusty window that was right above the tiny wooden sign that said “Tea Shop”, swinging rustily back and forward. Felix retrieves a key, unlocking the corrodated wooden door, the color matching the sign above.

“Wh- how do you know-”

Felix hushes you, closing the door behind you before throwing the keys on the counter.

“I don’t care about what you have to say. My father owns this place and I usually hang around here whenever it’s closed.”

“Do you work here?” you asked with a voice filled with curiosity.

Felix starts laughing his signature laugh, it being laced with nothing but iniquity.

“Work? Do you think I need to work? I’m the only child of a wealthy family, I’m pretty much settled for life”

You nervously look down at the floor, only being in the tea shop a couple of times before it was closed for business.

“Well,,, I know that your father owns this place, I live in the apartment just above so-”

You were quickly cut of by Felix slamming his hand on the table, standing behind the checkout counter and leaning over it with his two arms as pedestals.

“Why?”

You looked at him confused before your eyes gazed across the wall of glas cabinets displaying their finest china. Teapots with squiggly handles, painted with the utmost attention to detail, the colors of the scenes painted contrasting nicely with the eggshell white background. Small lamps were installed above each teapot, illuminating the work of art even more.

“Why what?” you said back, still in trance from the beauty of the teapots.

“Why do you live alone?” His eyebrows raised.

“I never said that!”

“y/n, that apartment is barely enough for a fucking mouse, there’s no way you could live there with someone else”

Damn, how did he know that? You had no other choice but to nod timidly, curling your hand into a fist.

“Don’t have the best relationship with my parents and since they aren’t wealthy like yours I have to do my best to find a way to support myself” you spat out at him, annoyed at his many questions.

“Touché” Felix said shortly, shrugging his shoulders.

After a long moment of silence the blonde boy spoke again;

“Let’s make a deal, I’ll get you a job here and I’ll join you but only because you’re stupid and need my help, not because I want to be here”

Your eyes light up, like an excited child you dash toward the counter and place your hands near Felix’s, looking at him with twinkling eyes.

“Really? You would do that?”

Felix nods.

“But don’t get too excited, you haven’t paid your end of the deal yet”

“Tell me! I’ll do anything, I promise!” you says quickly, smiling widely at Felix’s deadpan face.

“Suck me off”

Your previously bright smile faded in a matter of seconds, now turning into pure confusion.

“Wh-what? I can’t do that! Are you crazy?!”

Felix scoffs, walking towards the door in a cocky manner with his black backpack over his shoulder, wearing black ripped jeans that were strictly banned in school but no longer warned to Felix by the teachers. The schools logo embroidered on the white flowy shirt that was unbuttoned, exposing his brand name t-shirt.

Just in time you managed to block the door, his lips inches from yours as he sighed, smirking down at you.

“I’ll do it! I will do it!”

You blurted out, you had no other choice but to do it. Seeking other jobs had been impossible since you were only a student without any work experience, not having many other skills other than procrastinating and sleeping. You needed this in order to survive. You needed him.

The boy pushed you against the entrance door, placing his forehead against yours.

“Of course you will” Felix whispered in a voice deeper than the ocean, causing you to helplessly gulp and drop down on your knees, them hitting the floor with a thump. His small but veiny hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it in a swift motion, metal hitting each other. You were lost deep in thoughts, simply staring at his crotch whilst rethinking your every life decision. Wondering how on earth you got to this point, soon having your mouth stuffed with your bully’s dick.

Thank god that he was at least hot.

Felix popped his dick over the band of his underwear and as if you hadn’t had enough surprises today one last one awaited you. A silver metal barbell lodged right beneath his pretty red tip, his dick already hard as he gave it a couple of pumps. Your mouth fell agape, cheeks heating up as you struggled to keep a straight face. Felix being the tease he is had to comment;

“What? Bigger than you thought?”

You scoffed from his boldness, not believing your ears.

“N-no! Get over yourself you ass”

“Enough talking princess” Felix said in a deep voice, rubbing the tip of his leaking cock on your plushy lips, them being coated with a layer of saliva from you repeatedly lickning them out of nervousness.

There was a moment of awkwardness, you not being sure where to place your hands before you grabbed the base of his girthy dick, pursing your lips and latching them onto the tip, sinking down gradually in order to not choke immedietly, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had.

Felix let out a strained groan at the sensation, you feeling the cold metal as you flattened your tongue, licking a fat strap on the underside of his cock earning yet another groan. The blonde laced his fingers in your hair, tugging on it slightly in order to control the sinful sounds dripping out of his mouth. You whimpered against his dick, there barely being any room to breath as your nose was hovering just above his abdomen, impressed by your own gag reflex but that didn’t last long, Felix now shoving your head down his length, making you choke.

“Wow, is there anything you can do right? Can’t even suck me off properly”

You can only hum in response, sending shivers down Felix’s spine from the vibrations, the boy feeling the knot in his stomach tightening. The hair flies in front of you face as you bob your head down his cock that was equally as veiny as his decked out arms, feeling the metal hitting your bottom teeth a couple of times. Tears teased the corners of your eyes as you were throat deep on Felix’s member, your hands slightly sweaty from the butterflies in your stomach. Eventually Felix started to weaken in your grasp, small grunts escaping him as you hollowed your cheeks, mascara staining your heated cheeks.

“f-fuck,,,yes just like that,,ah-”

Luckily for the both of you the shop was located in a rather desolate area of town therefore no bypassers saw the scandalous view through the door that was decorated with a small foggged window. But did Felix care? Not really, the boy was bold enough to get sucked off in public if the opportunity presented itself.

You looked up at him with the most innocent eyes you could muster, spit starting to dribble down your chin and landing on your skirt, forming slightly saturated patches on the fabric from the wetness. The blonde boys useless comments didn’t make it any easier to withstand this agonizing process.

“Ah,,, never thought I would be seeing you like this, thought I had degraded you enough but this is just another level of humiliation, isn’t it y/n?”

The hand that was previously tangled in your hair was now moved to your stained cheek, him carefully swiping his thumb across the warm skin but you furrowed your eyebrows, swatting his hand away causing him to scoff before being interupted by his own loud moan, you pulling off and kitten licking his tip, coaxing his impending orgasm.

It didn’t take long before the boy was shutting his eyes tightly, his jaw slacking as a last low vibrational growl ringed in your ears, his eyes still piercing yours while the thick white liquid spilled out of him, coating the metal bar and seeped into your mouth, your dry lips now getting a coat of clear gloss, the rest dripping down onto the floor and your dark colored skirt.

You shook your head as you looked around the shop, not wanting to spit out his salty seed right on the floor but Felix simply shook his head back at you, grabbing your face gently.

“Swallow”

Goosebumps erupted on your skin from his intimidating voice, as if you’d been cast under a spell you nod, swallowing the droplets of cum harshly, the sound of your loud gulp causing Felix to hum and with a smile, ruffle your hair before zipping himself up and running a hand through his own hair, exposing his forehead for just a bit. You stand up on your own, legs wobbling as you don’t even expect the rude boy to help.

“You start tomorrow after school, my father will only be happy to know that someone actually want’s to work in this shithole. I’ll join you but once again, not because I want to but because your stupid head will mess everything up.”

You nod, only now noticing how scruffy the rest of the teashop looked, moving boxes piling up like the dust in the windowsills. You jerked your head to the side, eyes wandering all over the place, everywhere from the wittering plants to the miscellaneous stacks of files.

The both of you step out of the dusty shop, the cool air hitting your cheek, now remembering the makeup that was running down it. Without saying a word Felix tries to escape but you stop him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t turn around, staring at the road ahead of him.

“Thank you”

You whisper out, your hair fluttering in the wind, feeling yourself getting emotional from his seemingly sweet gesture. Felix starts walking, the sound of his footsteps getting fainter as the disappears down the sunny asphalt road, leaving you standing infront of the shop before you go behind the shop, entering your burrow of an apartment.

♡

You walk to the teashop in the floral spring weather, wondering where Felix had been all day since he wasn’t in school this wednesday where lectures went in half speed. Arriving at the shop everything was surprisingly closed. You peeked into the window, standing on your toes as if that would improve your vision but gave up quickly after, only seeing the scene from yesterday, the same old piles of rubbish.

A light tap threw you off guard, you yelping and jerking away before noticing the blonde hair, Felix greeting you with a jingle of keys in his hand.

“Wanna have the honors? I mean, it is your first day after all”

You respond with a small “yes” before grabbing the keys from his hand and unlocking the entrance to the stuffy teashop, coughing as you step in from the dust that twirled all around the two of you. You walked over to the sad plants that were placed haphazardly in the windowsill, swiping your finger over the leafs and closely examining the dust that rubbed off, blowing it away softly before turning to Felix that was nearing the pile of random files.

“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do before we can actually brew tea”

He didn’t smile, visibly annoyed. Felix went into the back, behind the beaded curtain he retrieved a bucket of cleaning supplies.

“You mop the floors, I’ll clean some of the heavy stuff away”

Felix said, his voice still in that notorious deep tone.

“Not fair? There’s not even a mop which means I’ll have to do it by hand?”

Felix scoffed, throwing a old rag at you before turning around and grabbing a moving box filled with god knows what. You sigh, grabbing the bucket and emptying the contents, the brushes and strangly colored bottles of cleaning solution spreading across the counter before you went behind the beaded curtain, being met by a murky kitchen that hadn’t been cleaned in what seemed like forever. You sighed, looking around and opening cabinets only to be met with half broken porcelain and cobwebs, the shelf at the top displaying a multitude of metal cans filled with loose tea that had probably gone tasteless. With a disgusted face you close the cabinet, instead filling up the bucket with water and adding dishsoap in lack of other cleaning substance.

Hours ticked by, Felix sighing and huffing out of annoyance when carrying out and sorting through countless boxes while you cleaned the floor and dusted every corner, the shop transforming right before your eyes. The two of you eventually ended up in the kitchen, you observing every cup for cracks and disposing of those that showed just that as Felix was washing those that you thought looked presentable. Felix tried his best to not drop the cups despite his slippery fingers in a pathetic attempt at trying to do the dishes, it was clear that he had never in his life had to do this which made you roll your eyes, thinking about the boiling anger you had at this pompous and spoiled boy.

“Do you like living alone y/n? ”

The question was rather unexpected, making you choke on your own saliva. Never in your life had you thought that he cared about you. You shrugged your shoulders, wanting to appear unbothered.

“y-yeah, I wanted to be more responsible, I mean we are adults soon and nothing is served on a silver platter but I wouldn’t expect you to know.”

Felix smirked, seeing right through your lie but choosing to not taunt you. You felt vulnerable from the question but instead of continuing the awkward silence you wanted to get to know him better, maybe he wasn’t such a dick after all, maybe his tough guy personality was only a facade?

“What’s with that piercing?” you said, pointing at his groin with your chin making Felix laugh, getting shy from your question but snapping back to his cold outer self.

“It was a bet and as you can see I lost” he scoffed before continuing, “wanna see?”

Your eyes widened, cheeks heating up before stammering out;

“N-no, Felix you’re disgusting!” you say in desperation for an answer but Felix only laughs even more, almost annoying you.

“Well it wasn’t so disgusting when you were sucking me off, have you forgotten babygirl? Maybe I should teach you your place again.”

You gulped, not answering but instead just staring at him, a cup frozen in your hand as Felix locks his eyes with your, tilting his head in a cocky manner. You harshly place the cup down, storming out into the area where racks upon racks displayed the many tea sorts that were stashed away somewhere in the shop, Felix retrieving them earlier in the day. You start sorting through them, seeing a paper with orders on a clipboard and deciding to check the different kinds. Everything from oolong to pu’er to herbal was lined up in both teabags or loose tea leafs and surprisingly Felix did a good job, everything displayed in pretty and uniform lines. Before you could put a dash for a variety of tea that was missing. Felix sticks his head in between the beaded strings of the curtain, his eyes twinkling.

“Want some tea?”

For the first time he seemed cute. Not scary or intimidating, just cute. By the way his blonde locks fell infront of his face to the way his earrings were jingling, fading out to his angular facial structure.

You nod shyly, placing the clipboard on a random shelf before scooting over to the kitchen, seeing that Felix had placed out a white teapot with cobalt blue details, a floral pattern that contradicted to the eggshell white base. On the counter stood a small brown paperbag with black tea and right next to it a small tray of white sugarcubes.

“This seems awfully complicated for making tea” you say, looking at the red kettle boiling on the stove, there not being an electric kettle in this old establishment.

“What you expect? That I’ll be satisfied with you serving some watered down tea from a teabag? There’s a process you know.”

“Wow, and this is coming from Lee Felix? The son of a rich man and also the schools scumbag?”

Felix snaps his towards you, previously looking at the piping hot kettle. He licked the inside of his cheek, exhaling sharply through his nose, turning his cheek towards his shoulder, a momentary pop being heard before he looked at you with his dark eyes.

“I’m being nice, take that to your advantage and I’ll break your kneecaps”

You nodded and he smiled, astonished by the duality of this man.

“Are you just gonna stand there? Come closer”

You stepped closer to the counter, your breath hitching when you felt Felix’s chest again your back, his hands leaning against the counter and trapping you between the two. You swallowed harshly, eyes darting over the various equipment needed to make a simple cup of tea.

“Open the tea pot maybe?”

Felix said, sighing. You feeling his warm breath against the outer shell of your ear, his voice sounding even more dangerous when it was right beside you. You grabbed the blue detailed teapot and opened it, only to see a metal strainer already a part of the pot. Doubtfully you grabbed the little packet of loose leaf tea, removing and placing down the clip that was hindering it’s aroma from escaping the luxurious leafs. The fragrence of the tea hit your senses, the smell almost addictive.

“What tea is this?”

You said, turning the bag in you hand, looking for any type of lettering that would bring you closer to an answer.

“Russian earl grey. It contains bergamot orange making it more pungent”

You hummed, being to scared to turn around and face him, you now zoning out whilst your eyes were stuck on the awfully colored tiles on the kitchen wall.

“You’re supposed to drink it y/n, not smell it”

Felix stated causing you to snap out and notice that you’ve been holding the bag to your nose, scrunching your nose ever so often.

“Oh yeah,,, right,,, sorry. How much should I put in?”

You say, tilting the bag and slowly watching dark colored particles spill into the metal strainer. Felix slowly put his hand on yours, tilting the bag even more. You could feel your heart in your throat, your hands starting to sweat from his close proximity. His hand was warm for such a cold person.

“It’s supposed to fill up one third of the strainer, remember that”

You mewled out a quiet “yes” as he put the bag down, removing his hand from yours. The next step was obvious, filling up the tea pot with hot water. Just as you were about to grab the black handle of the shiny red kettle Felix smacked your hand away, him grabbing it instead.

“It’s hot and I can’t trust someone as stupid as you with it”

“I can grab a kettle you know? I’m not that weak-”

“Shut it”

You pressed your lips shut as Felix pressed himself against your back, carefully reaching and pouring in the steaming water and seeing the water droplets diffuse up into the atmosphere. He carefully put the lid back on the pot and backed away as he put the kettle back on the stove, turning it off.

“What do we do now?”

You asked, turning around and leaning your butt against the cold counter.

“We wait for 5 minutes, the steeping time is different for different teas, you’ll have to learn them when working here.”

You nod attentively, staring down at your shoes and turning your heels against the dark wooden floorboards.

“I wanna change the deal y/n”

Your head shot up to the blonde boy, him standing close by in all his glory, not wearing his school uniform but instead a black t-shirt, of course having a obnoxiously loud designer logo in the front just like the belt that was resting on top of his black slacks. His bracelets jingled everytime he moved his hands, this time wearing dainty silver rings to match with his wristwatch and shining piercings.

“W-what why? Are you gonna fire me?”

Blood was boiling in your veins, not knowing his intentions yet but knowing that they were just as sinister as the boy himself. Before you knew it his lips were attached on yours.

Your heart skipped a beat, knuckles whitening as you held onto the counter from sheer panic. His lips were softer than expected, pressing gently as he tilted his head, his eyelashes feathering over his closed lids. His hands traveled up your clothed body, exploring every inch of you. The soft sound of lips smacking against each other ignited a feeling deep in your core. You were pushed closer to the edge of the counter, his body so close, leaving you with no choice but to jump up on the metal surface. The coldness radiated through the thin fabric of your pleated skirt, hitting your aching cunt that was already dripping from Felix’s simple actions, his daunting aura clouding your mind with sinful thoughts.

“I’ll raise your pay if you fuck me, please y/n”

He whispers against your plush lips. You hummed, hesitating before slowly nodding, not being able to think clear with your heart beating like it’s about to protrude from your chest. He smiles slyly before reattaching his lips onto yours, his wet and sharp tongue running over your swollen bottom lip, desperatly wanting to taste your tongue. Your lips parted as you moaned into the kiss, giving him the perfect opportunity to pry himself into your mouth, the kiss getting sloppier, Felix growing needier as the seconds on the large clock on top of the door frame ticked. The blonde boy placed himself inbetween your legs, his veiny hands placed on your knees, seperating your already shivering legs. Without knowing what you were doing you cupped Felix’s cheeks, feeling the sharpness of his jaw against your soft hands.

Why did you pull him closer? He’d hurt you so bad in the past, everyday was living hell because of him and his deeds. A lightheadedness hit you as memories scrolled past your consciousness. Memories still painful, tender as open wounds. But for him you could forgive anything. Forget, just to see him smile at you.

His cologne was strangely addictive, the musky smell mixed with the scent of his soft sunkissed skin. You moaned softly against his lips as his fingers traced lightly over your exposed panties, the skirt already folded up your thighs. He hummed in delight, feeling the soaked fabric sticking against your pulsating cunt.

“I’ve waited for this for so long y/n”

You looked at him with confusion in your glossy eyes. Waited, for you?

Within a matter of seconds his fingers pushed aside the wet patch of fabric shielding you from the cold air, only to insert a finger inside of your desperate hole causing you to gasp. A second finger joined close by and Felix groaned, feeling your tight walls around his glistening digits. You had so many questions but not enough power to say them without stuttering.

“W-waited for,,, m-me?”

His fingers curled upwards as you finished your sentence causing you to grip his wrist, the squelching sound of your pussy pleasing the blonde boy as he pumped his fingers into you relentlessly.

“That’s how I get attention. You aren’t impressed by materialistic things so I did what I had to”

You couldn’t believe your ears. All that to get your attention? He succeeded but he would never understand the emotions you went through because of him. The hatered you thought would never melt away suddenly did, you becoming nothing more but a whimpering mess from his touch.

A thump was heard from your head hitting the cupboard, the pleasure firing through your body as your small cries echoed throughout the small kitchen. A sudden feeling of emptiness caused you to sigh in both relief and frustration. Your previously shut eyes slowly drifted open, panicked when you see Felix unbuckling his belt, letting both the fabric of his pants and underwear fall to the dim floor.

Somehow his leaking cock looked prettier this time around, the shiny piercing distracting to the eye. Your mouth watered embarrassingly enough, turning your gaze to the ticking clock until Felix cleared his throat, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed his spit. He looked nervous which was unfamilliar, the boy always being persistant with his cocky mannerisms. Felix pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, your face heating up as your legs were spread wide open for him. There was nowhere you could hide your flushed face and Felix took this to his advantage.

“Huh? Shy, babygirl?”

You gulped as you watched him stroke himself, the crimson colored tip disappearing only to reappear seconds later. Your eyes shut tightly as he moved the slick-stained panties to the side, anticipating to be filled to the brim from his impressive size. Mouth agape, Felix pushed into your wet hole, your hands gripping his broad shoulder in order to hinder a loud moan.

“fuck y/n,,, you’re so tight, s-shit”

You couldn’t answer, still adjusting your velvety walls around him. As the pain subsided your core ached for friction, needing to feel him deep inside of you. Your arms wrapped around the boy, pulling him closer to your heated body making him smirk slyly before carefully pulling away, only his tip resting inside of you. Just as you were about to sigh due to emptiness he slammed inside of you, your entire body shaking from the impact. Panting, you begged for more, begging for him to go faster.

“F-felix! faster,,, please”

Your warm face was buried deep in his shoulder, his slightly cold hands gripping your hips tightly, starting to roll against your throbbing cunt earning small mewls from between your swollen lips. The counter creaked with each thrust that grew louder as his pace got faster, feeling your delicate walls clench around his veiny length, his silver earrings dangling from his lobes. Felix explored parts of your body even you hadn’t felt, his dick prodding you deep enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull, biting down on his shirt.

The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room, your weakening legs wrapping around his figure, trapping him inside of you but the blonde boy had no plans of stopping. Sweat beaded around his temples, his previously serious expressing turning into a grin as he adored your moans, words falling out in incomprehensible syllables. You were close and so was Felix.

The pit of fire grew violent deep in your core, holding the young boy tighter to your body, clawing his clothed back. Every thrust had it’s impact, shaking you up and forcing shameless moans out from your throat that were being muffled by the fabric between your lips. The two of you moaned in unison, Felix’s deep mutters getting louder, his vicious thrusts becoming sloppier and uneven, desperate for his sweet release. You clenched around him involuntarily, trying to hold back from screaming, glad that your warm face was between his shoulder and neck so that he couldn’t see your fucked out expression. His name rolled off your tongue like a mantra, mind blank as your eyes were squeezed shut.

“Felix, i-im gonna c-cum! im-m cumming!”

The wall seperating you from your orgasm collapsed, leaving you with a powerful sensation washing over you. Your legs shook, struggling to keep your legs wrapped around him but soon enough you wouldn’t have to. Felix thrusted into you one final time, sending a shiver down your spine and overstimulating you before pulling out, his dick glistening with your erotic juices as he fucked his hand, hot spurts of cum leaking out. He growled, scrunching his forehead as he released on your shaking thighs, one last droplet of cum descending down his shaft and coating the shiny piercing that decorated his pretty cock.

You panted, still processing what just happened, looking at Felix that unwrapped his hand from around his member, dick turning flaccid. You lifted yourself off the counter, only then realising how weak your legs were, not letting go of the surface you just fucked on.

“Is this a one time thing or,,,”

You start, not really knowing what to say afterwards. Felix cleared his throat, putting on his pants as you fixed your dark skirt, back against the boy.

“Let’s be friends”

You turned around, gazing at Felix as he looked down at the grimy floor.

“I’ll stop,,, bothering you, now we’re friends,,, with benefits but it’s a secret, understand?”

Every sentence this man spoke sounded serious with his deep voice but this was serious, for real.

“Why should I? Why should I agree, Felix? So that you can play around with me even more, make me your little shy puppet? I’m not having it!!”

You yelled at the boy, his expression deadpan as you hit him in the abdomen, instantly regretting it as your knuckles hit his rock hard abs. Frustration clouded your mind, wanting to break every single piece of porcelain in the narrow kitchen. Instead you broke yourself apart. Crying in front of Felix like you’d done so many times before, dropping to the floor and feeling the cold material against your bare thigh. This feeling, so familiar. Felix gazing down on you like you we’re worth nothing more than the ground.

Only this time he didn’t only stand and stare.

His arms wrapped around your quivering figure, his embrace warmer than his face.

“I’m sorry, y/n”

His voice shook as the silence overtook the both of you, the quiet ticking of the clock interupting.

“Hm? Look at me, y/n”

Felix pulled away from you, sitting on the floor next to you, watching your head hang low as he gently put a hand on your jaw, lifting your gaze up to meet his.

“I’m fucking stupid, I know. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that but,,, I didn’t know how- how to get closer to you.”

He swiped the rough pad of his thumb across your cheek, wiping your tears.

“I will never hurt you ever again, y/n. We- we can work here and just,,, do stuff.”

You knew exactly what he meant by “stuff” but somehow you trusted him. You trusted him because you had no one else to trust.

“But one rule” he said.

You tilted your head, wondering what his rule was.

“No falling in love”

You hummed, nodding as you wiped your tearstained cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt, cracking a smile at your own vulnerability. Felix stood up and you looked up at him, feeling small but not afraid.

“So what do you say, y/n?”

He offered you his hand, you couldn’t stop looking into his secretive eyes that slowly turned mellow.

You grabbed his hand, passing it as a yes to his question.

But the both of you knew that the rule would be broken soon, like the brittle edge of a teacup.

#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #skzsmut #skz fanfic #skz imagines #lee felix smut #felix smut #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x stay #stray kids x female reader #skz x y/n #skz x stay #skz x reader #skz x you #kpop smut

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader)

I can explain.

Please don't come at me for starting a new project before finishing Cult Girl Doctorate. I hit a wall and needed to take a break. I am trying not to let this one take up too much time.

Y/n is a sorceress-in-training who’s known for being hard to teach. Sensing her potential, Doctor Strange takes her on as an apprentice.

You firmly believed that shattering the urn of Fei-Amie was the best thing that ever happened to you.

It happened a year ago, but it still replayed in your head over and over again. You made a conscious effort to remember it vividly.

Sure, it was terrifying, Stephen Strange's initial look of anger when he heard the ceramic shatter. It softened when he saw that the culprit was just a clumsy sorceress-in-training who looked on the verge of tears with remorse. Still, it was a face you never wanted to see again: his teeth bared, his already sharp features accentuated under the constraints of anger.

It diluted into silent, simmering frustration that revealed itself to you in short sarcastic jabs and body language.

"Just, stop." He cut you off after a string of profuse sorries. With no disarming smile in sight, you could tell he was tense. "Artifacts get broken all the time. Don't cry. It was an accident."

His tone indicated that he was trying to convince himself more than he was you. You were a closed-off person and could hardly stand the idea that anyone out there didn't like you. The idea of the Sorcerer Supreme being mad at you, personally, made you briefly consider ritual suicide. You lowered your head. "Yes, Master Strange."

"Hey, butterfingers." He called out after you as you tried to make a painless exit. You looked back at him and he gestured to the pile of broken ceramic pieces. "You gonna fix what you broke?"

It hadn't dawned on you that an ancient relic could be fixed. Especially one that once contained the ashes of the ancient necromancer Fei-Amie. You were embarrassed to say that your knowledge of manipulating time was surface-level at best, and couldn't think of any other solution.

You wordlessly gathered the pieces up in your skirt and carried them off, striking out any plans to go into town that evening. Instead, you poured through book after book for any instruction whatsoever on repairing broken artifacts. You ran out of desk space, so books were just floating in the air, suspended on pages that briefly mentioned relic breakage.

You started to believe you were given an impossible task. Or perhaps all the resources you needed, he was withholding. Even so, you didn't want to go back to him empty-handed. You changed into your street clothes and opened a portal to the local craft store.

You returned with two types of extra-strong superglue and got to work. First, you made all the pieces come together and had them hover over the desk. Unconsciously, you began to sing as you pieced the urn back together.

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels

Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

These are a few of my favorite things

"Haven't heard that song in years."

You dropped the tube of glue and the few remaining pieces fell back to the desk. "Master Strange!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He said, though his apology was undercut by his smug tone. "Carry on."

You picked up a piece and began to line the edges with glue.

"Aren't you going to finish the song?"

You looked up to see that he hadn't been just passing by. He was leaning against the threshold, watching you.

"I don't usually sing for an audience." You laughed, uncomfortably. "Just me."

"A man and his sentient cape should not count as an audience," he scoffed. "But, if you insist, I guess I'll have to just listen to Julie Andrews instead."

"What's wrong with her?" You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Oh, nothing. She's a treasure." He put his hands up. "But everyone gets to hear her sing. And I take it that only a very select few get to hear your rendition of my favorite things. I just have to be one of them."

You blushed, suddenly forgetting all the words to my favorite things.

"Girls in white dresses..." he offered, an impatient edge to it.

You swallowed. "Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes-"

"Hey, butterfingers." He interrupted again. Before you could object, he pointed to the way that the pieces floated gracefully overhead at the sound of your voice.

"I'd like to see Julie Andrews do that." He said with a wink.

"Looks alright," Master Strange said, running his finger along the tight seams that showed where cracks once were.

"Will it still work?" You asked. That was really all you were worried about.

"Beats the hell out of me." He shrugged. "I didn't know how to use it to begin with."

"What?!" You spat back. "Are you kidding?"

"I'm afraid not." He said, taking the urn and placing it back on its pedestal. "Don't worry, you did a good job. I'm not mad at you anymore."

That was really all you needed to hear. "Thank you, sir."

"You're an apprentice, right?" He asked.

"I'm..." Your voice trailed off in embarrassment. "Between masters right now."

He raised an eyebrow. "If I were to ask around, would I receive glowing reviews from your last masters?"

You admitted it point-blank. "No."

"Let me guess," he folded his arms. "Something didn't make sense to you and instead of giving you the space to question it, they insisted you follow blindly."

You wanted to throw your head back and shout in relief; finally, someone understood!

"Bingo, bullseye." You put your hands up in surrender after being read so easily. "Right on the money."

"I see." He said, tucking that thought away for later. "Could I trouble you for one more odd job before you go?"

"That depends." You folded your arms. "What is it?"

He looked over his shoulder at his cape. "How are you with sewing?"

‘Sewing' was not the verb you would use to describe repairing the tears in the Cloak of Levitation. It was taller and stronger than you and it did not want to be repaired. It was closer to performing surgery on a fully grown mountain lion that could rip your head off at any minute.

"Like putting eyeshadow on a cat," Master Strange said. It flicked its edge contemptuously, while still clinging to his shoulders for dear life. "I'm a licensed surgeon and it won't let me within 20 feet of it with a needle."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." You said, thoroughly discouraged. All he'd given you to work with was a spool of thread and a pack of needles.

He tried with sincere force to remove the cloak, but it wouldn't budge. "Of course, now it knows you're coming at it with the sewing kit and it won't leave my shoulders."

"Maybe I can work with that?" You shrugged. You threaded the needle and hid it in your hand.

You approached the cloak, only for it to shove Master Strange in your way like a human shield.

"Listen, you naughty little blanket." He scolded, turning around to face it as if it were a puppy that had just wrecked the living room. "If you don't let her fix you, you're going in the washing machine. Extra spin."

It shuddered, and, for a moment, you thought it was going to comply. You slowly took a step forward, only for it to dart as soon as your foot hit the ground. It made its escape with a large crash through the heavy wooden doors of the library.

"Hey!" You shouted, chasing after it. "Get back here!"

You caught a glimpse of it headed towards the relic room, so, without thinking, you opened a portal to make it there first. You reached it only seconds before the cloak breached the threshold, with only enough time to grab it by the edge.

"Come here!" You exclaimed, giving it a full force tug. It tugged back, overpowering you to the tenth degree. It dragged you across the room and into the foyer. You yanked on it, only for it to escape from your grip and send you flying back into the wall. You wondered for a second how such a sturdy piece of fabric could possibly be in need of maintenance.

"Bastard." You mumbled, rubbing the spot where your head collided with the wall. The pain didn't stop you, though. You were on your feet within seconds, pursuing the naughty blanket all over again.

You heard the words of one of your many, many masters ringing in your ears; "never outrun what you can outsmart". Or maybe that was from a Garfield comic. Either way, whether or not you could outsmart the cloak was still unknown, but you had to at least try.

You took a second to catch your breath and tried to remember where you saw it heading next. Downstairs, you thought. To the laundry room. The one place you would never look.

You slowly but deliberately descended the stairs to the basement where the laundry was. You turned the light on and saw overturned baskets of towels, clothes, and sheets everywhere. And then a washing machine door slammed shut. You turned your head and saw a twinge of dark red hiding in the washing machine.

You removed your shoes and socks to minimize noise, then picked up a fitted sheet that had been thrown on the ground. You mounted the washing machine and affixed the sheet to the front. The cloak would have to come shooting out the door, and you would ambush it.

You forced the door open with your heel, holding the sheet like a giant net. As predicted, the cloak shot out like a bullet from a gun, getting caught in the sheet. It thrashed around aimlessly, trying to escape, but you had a tight grip and it wasn't going anywhere.

"It's curtains for you!" You said, then laughed at your own joke. "Stop struggling!"

It flailed and fought, but eventually ran out of energy and sunk to the ground. Not trusting it quite yet, you pinned it down with your whole body weight before releasing it from the sheet. As expected, it tried to fly away, but couldn't get anywhere.

"The less you fight, the faster this will go." You said, examining the fabric for any visible tears. The rip presented itself right away. About as long as your hand, right in the center.

"What did Strange do to you?" You asked, pulling the threaded needle from your pocket. "Hold still, I'm going to fix it."

Once the needle hit fabric, the cloak stopped trying to fly away and instead writhed about on the floor like it was about to die. You fixed the tear with as many stitches as you could make, then pulled it shut. Once you knew the thread was secure, you rolled off the cloak and let it fly free.

It shot up, but froze, noticing something was different. It swished itself around, unaccustomed to the feeling of air not blowing right through its center.

"You're welcome." You said with a shrug. "It's not like I had to chase you all around the sanctum to make it happen."

Without any warning, the cloak scooped you up and squeezed you. Your initial reaction was that this was its revenge and you were taking your final breaths, but you could tell it was gratitude by the way it gently set you down on the ground.

"Happy to help." You gasped for air. "Just remember this feeling if I ever have to do this again."

"Not bad, butterfingers." Master Strange told you, though the tone of his voice conveyed he was impressed beyond a simple 'not bad'.

"Not bad?" You protested. "I absolutely crushed it."

He ran his finger down the uneven but sturdy stitching. When his face met yours again, he was smiling with genuine enthusiasm that managed to eek through his dry, sarcastic exterior. It came out as an admittedly very handsome sideways smirk as his eyes scanned you up and down.

“If you don’t need anything else, I’ll get out of your hair now.” You said, heading towards the open doors.

“Wait.” The doors slammed shut before you could reach them. You turned around to see Master Strange still examining the stitching. "You wouldn't leave without tea, would you?"

A pot of chai tea sat between you, filling the air with an aroma of spicy vanilla. You held the teacup in both hands, determined to never give him a reason to reinforce the "butterfingers" nickname he'd become so fond of.

"Chai is my favorite." You said, letting the scent waft into your nose. "Yerba mate used to be my favorite, but if I drink more than two pots of it I get sick."

"Yeah, definitely don't do that." He chuckled, bobbing his teabag up and down in the cup. "Out of curiosity, are you wondering at all why I invited you to tea?"

"Oh, definitely." You nodded. "I was just wondering about that."

"Would you believe it's just because I find you interesting?" He raised an eyebrow. "Good company, perhaps?"

"Interesting? Absolutely." You agreed. "Good company is debatable."

"I can't believe I never thought to trap the cloak in the washing machine." He rested his chin in his hand. "It seems so obvious now."

"If it makes you feel any better," you shrugged. "It was mostly dumb luck and reckless disregard for my own life, considering it almost threw me off the balcony.”

He glared at the cloak. “What did I tell you about trying to kill our guests?”

It lowered its collar shamefully in his direction.

“Don’t apologize to me!” He scolded. “Apologize to her.”

It turned to face you and repeated the somber motion.

“It’s okay.” You shrugged. “My family adopted a retired army German Shepherd growing up. I’m used to high-strung creatures that could end my life at any second.”

“Well, rest assured, butterfingers,” He said, leaning back in his chair. “This will never happen again.”

“I, uh-” You opened your mouth before you could even really pick up on the implication he was putting down. “Wasn’t aware that there would be a chance for it to happen again?”

“I suppose we should get down to brass tax, then.” He folded his hands in his lap. “How would you like to stay here?”

“Well-” You said, not wanting to come off as too enthusiastic, which you certainly were. “Not if it’s going to kill me-”

“If I could promise you that your life won’t be in constant danger, I would.” He cut you off. “But if you wanted safety, you wouldn’t have started studying the Mystic Arts.”

“Got me there.” You conceded, your made-up objection withering away. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” He shook his head. “I’ll help you train and in return, you help me preserve the integrity of the sanctum.”

“So an apprenticeship?” Your eyes widened. "Are you saying you want to take me on as an apprentice?"

“I know you’ve got bad associations with that title, but yes.” He answered. “If it brings back memories of your previous masters treating you like garbage, we can call it a ‘partnership’, if you’d like.”

Partners with the Sorcerer Supreme? You thought, butterflies materializing in your stomach.

"That sounds great, but-" You broke eye contact and fidgeted with your fingers. "I feel like I should disclose that it wasn't really all that one-sided. I am… notoriously hard to teach."

"And who told you that?" He tilted his head. "The ones who refused to teach you?"

You hadn't thought about it that way. "I guess."

"The way I see it, you've repaid your debt and are free to leave," he began. "But seeing how dutifully you reassembled that urn, wrangled my favorite piece of defiant outerwear, and how desperately this place is in need of some life, it might be a good idea to keep you around."

You put your hand over your chest to still your heart. "It would be an honor."

"Excellent." He nodded. "That saves me the trouble of having to convince you."

He brought you to a small but comfortable room with a bed and connected bathroom.

"There's plenty of closet space for all your clothes." He said, gesturing to an antique looking bureau set.

You dumped your duffel bag out on the bed, revealing the extent of your possessions. "Thanks, but this is all I've got."

"Travel light, huh?" He asked.

"Yeah, I moved around a lot growing up." You admitted. "Got no real roots and all that jazz."

"That changes now." He told you. "This is your home now so I want it to feel like it. Make the space your own."

“I don’t know how I can thank you for this.” You lowered your head, still feeling undeserving.

“Don’t thank me yet, butterfingers.” He chuckled. “I’ve been told I tend to be a little on the egotistical side. That I don’t work well with others.”

"It's actually [F/N], if you were curious." You said, sitting on the bed and folding your hands in your lap.

"Okay, [F/N]." he smiled. "You've been in and out of enough apprenticeships to know the drill. Early mornings, late nights. And I've got a laundry list of odd jobs for you that I'm too important to do."

"Naturally." You nodded. His dry self-awareness inspired a little confidence that he wouldn't be a complete tyrant.

"You did a good job today." He said, bluntly. "Thank you for your help. Keep it up and you'll make an invaluable addition to the sanctum."

You smiled downwards. "Thank you."

"Do you often sing when you're trying to focus?" He posited. "Just, as an aside."

You could tell the gears in his neurosurgeon's head were turning, undoubtedly trying to pin some kind of diagnosis on you as doctors were known to do.

“I guess it’s just a force of habit.” You admitted. “I used to play piano, so when I’m working with my hands, it just kind of happens. My last master was not happy about that.”

"Oh, screw him." He waved his hand dismissively. "He pissed away an opportunity to nurture a sorceress with a special gift for the sake of tradition. That's a mistake I won't make."

Special gift? You thought. Nobody who practiced the Mystic Arts had ever referred to anything you'd ever done as a 'gift'. Annoyance? sure. A symptom of ADHD? All the time. But 'gift'? That made it sound useful.

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange #doctor stephen strange #what if #what if marvel #doctor strange supreme

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theepisceswriter · 3 years

Text

Jealous AOT men (Levi, Porco, Zeke, Eren, Erwin)

A/N: Shout out to the bestie in my inbox that requested this and I’m sorry for taking forever to finally do it, but I hope you enjoy !

Synopsis: Do y’all fr need one? Basically just AOT men getting jealous in situations and how they handle it

TW: none really apply, GN!reader, fighting (kinda) for Porco cause he’s about that life like that, violence for Levi because he’s an angry short man, and mean douchebag rich boy Eren content

LEVI

If there’s one thing Levi doesn’t tolerate when it comes to his partner it’s disrespect. He holds you on such a high pedestal and at a status that no one else can touch for loving him the way that you do, so for someone to disrespect the relationship you two have or you in general with some catcalling remark is like the greatest offense to him.

It doesn’t even have to be anything too serious. It can be something stupid like “I bet you’re hitting that fine piece of meat every night” and he’d have them on the ground in seconds with a knife pressed against their throat demanding that they apologize to you immediately.

“I recommend you apologize to them right now formally and watch what you say around me from now on or I’ll cut your tongue from your mouth with this very blade.”

Yeah, he doesn’t play when it comes to you at all. He has to set an example to let everybody know what to expect if they try either of you again because you would do the same too if the situation was reserved.

He lets the perpetrator go with no bruises besides the ones he got from Levi’s manhandling, probably per your request, and what do the two of you do afterwards? You just go on about your day like nothing even happened, like Levi wasn’t ready to cut someone’s tongue out over you in road daylight. It’s a norm for your relationship honestly because the two of you are both crazy.

PORCO

Aggressive! Aggressive! Aggressive! Porco is not afraid to get aggressive when it comes to other people trying to flirt with you and risk that possibility of fighting with them.

Especially when it comes to the creepy kind that don’t know how to respect your boundaries or get the hint that you don’t want to be messed with after turning them down numerous times. He was already on edge just seeing them come up to you and flash you that smile like they were genuinely charming or something, but once he saw them place their hands on your forearm and you brush it away with a scowl, he was lit up with anger!

There was no warning given to them to hurry up and go away before he gets mad or him coming up to you and wrapping a protective arm around your waist; he came running over and before you even knew he was making his way to where you were, he was throwing a punch dead smack in the middle of the perpetrator’s face.

“Don’t you know no means fucking no!?” “How dare you put your hands on my boyfriend/girlfriend!?” Told y’all he was really with the shits like that.

But because he doesn’t want to cause too much of a scene or get arrested or banned from wherever the two of you were at, that one punch (which is a really fucking hard punch that definitely going to have some impact on them whether it’s a bruise or some wooziness) is all he does before he’s yanking them by their collar and removing them out of the place his damn self. Did he overreact just a little? No! Because they touched you without your consent even after you expressed you didn’t want them to.

He’s a gentleman immediately after dealing with them and is by your side in an instant giving you a quick checkup with his eyes genuinely concerned for your well-being.

“Are you all right, babe?” “I hope your iight isn’t ruined but if you don’t want to be out anymore we can totally go home.” “They didn’t hurt you did they? Because I don’t mind going back out there to find them if they did.” So attentive and gentle with you. The complete opposite of what he was only minutes ago.

ZEKE

It takes a lot to make Zeke jealous in a relationship because just the fact that he’s in a relationship with you is enough to make him feel secure in his place as your significant other. People can flirt with you and steal glances all they want because he honestly doesn’t care that much. It actually makes him feel smug and proud knowing that others are thirsting over HIS significant other like that, but can’t act on any of their thoughts because you’re his.

But....let the two of you be freshly broken up, or on a “break”, and he catches you out and about in public with some other jawn then it’s a whole other story. Now he’s feeling some type of way since he no longer has that guaranteed security from your relationship anymore. He’s hurt, but he’s not going to show that too much. Instead, he’s going to be smug and cocky with the way he approaches you two.

“So this is my replacement? He’s not even the great value version of me. You could do a hell of a lot better than someone like him and you know it, y/n.” God, he’s such a menace to society that deserves to be locked up. He wouldn’t stop at after the insults you send his way calling him pathetic and embarrassing nor at your request for him to leave. Matter of fact, he’s going to pull up a chair at your table just to sit there and mess with your poor date and eventually after backhanded compliment after not so backhanded insults, they get up a storm away.

“Are you really going to date someone who can’t take a little bit of heat from someone like me out of all people? Didn’t even have any worry remarks to come back at me with like I did for him. How sad.” He still just keeps going on and on even after the poor guy leaves, comparing himself to him and talking about how he’s so much better in not so subtle ways.

So much for getting hoes when you have an ex like Zeke, but you do like the fact that he’s trying so hard to get you back even if he won’t explicitly say it out loud; his actions speak everything

EREN

Eren is such a douche bag he really is. Especially modern day rich boy Eren.

Let him catch someone trying to flirt with you while he’s in close proximity of you and watch him cause a whole scene at the country club or whatever rich place the two of you are at.

“Who the hell do you think you are flirting with my boyfriend/girlfriend? You can’t even compare to me so I don’t know what thought in your head made you think you can enough for you to try and get at what’s mine, but you better get rid of it right now. I can buy like three of you if I wanted to right now and it wouldn’t even put a dent in my bank account. You really think they’d go for somebody like you?” He’s such a meanie when it comes to you, he really is.

The poor perpetrator doesn’t even bother to fight for his name or pursue an argument with Eren because he knows it’ll get him nowhere but embarrassed even further, so he goes running off with blush on his cheeks from embarrassment because everyone within like 50 feet surely heard the scene that Eren just put on.

You’re just as embarrassed as the poor boy who was flirting with you, nagging at Eren about how he did entirely too much and how he should go apologize to him, but he just looks over at you with a smug smile and replies, “I gotta set an example for other people babe so they know not to mess with what’s mine.”

Best believe he’s going to be showing an overwhelming amount of PDA the rest of your outing and even go the extra mile to do something like rest his hand on your bottom or make out with you without warning.

ERWIN

This man is so powerful and holds so much authority in other people, even those who hardly even know him, that he doesn’t even have to do much when he catches someone trying to flirt with you while he’s on the other side of the room at some company event.

Like Zeke, it’s extremely difficult to make Erwin jealous because he knows you like the back of his hand and knows if a flirty interaction is happening with someone who isn’t him then it’s completely one sided and you’re just keeping yourself in the conversation because you’re a nice person like that. So, he’ll continue on with his conversation while you continue on with yours, but every now and then he’ll peak out of the corner of his eyes in your direction to make sure you’re okay.

It’s when he notices you getting uncomfortable and the other person getting a little too comfortable that he decides to step in; excusing himself from his conversation like the gentleman he is and coming over to you. You wouldn’t even know that he was there until you felt a broad hand on your waist pulling you into a chiseled chest that you’re aware of his presence.

“Can I help you with something?”

When I tell you his voice goes deeper than normal when he switches to an authoritative mode and it’s the most attractive thing ever that has you feeling butterflies in your stomach and the person who was trying to flirt with you shook to their core.

They don’t even answer his question or even look him directly in the eyes because the energy he excludes is just such big dick energy and from the way he came up and pressed you against him with no hesitation already let them know that you were his without either of you having to say it.

You stayed glued to his side for the rest of the night, one of his arms always wither wrapped around your waist or dangling over your torso holding you close.

#aot imagines #aot headcanons #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger headcanons #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger headcanons #porco galliard x reader #porco galliard headcanons #erwin smith headcanons #erwin smith x reader

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multiplefandomsblog · 3 years

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request; Can I request Nagito, Kokichi, and Rantaro with an s/o that has a hard time understanding why someone feels a certain emotion in situations?

pairing(s); rantaro x gn!reader, nagito x gn!reader, kokichi x gn!reader

warnings; blood, violence, broken noses, strong language, kind of angsty — sorry that nagito's is super long- i started off with him and i haven't written in a long time so i just shit all over the place, fluff at kokichi, i have mood swings I'm so sorry about the whiplash you are about to witness

note; yesss i am back to finish these requests yurrrrrr sjansjdhfbasdkjfds I'm not gonna make a big announcement or anything(I'm still trying to figure out how to balance everything in my life rn, so I'm sorry for people who are waiting on me—) , just gonna spit out as many finished requests as i can, sorry for the abrupt pause of everything by the wayz ill be (hopefully) regularly posting works from now on.

(also this request was kind of vague, so i used the example of someone getting upset/angry and reader not understanding why; i hope that's okay :'))

Nagito Komaeda

◊ I think Nagito would understand your struggles more than anyone else.

◊ And… honestly, it kind of reassures him that you share a struggle with him. It makes him feel less alone, less like the odd one out.

◊ Being similar to someone like you in any way, even if it was a genuinely difficult and real struggle; was a blessing in disguise for someone as lowly as him.

◊ Getting that out of the way, Nagito would never see your struggle as what it is. The way he views you, how highly he puts you up on a pedestal, as well as how much hope he believes you to hold; he, at first*, won't help you at all with your struggles.

◊ As a strong believer of hope overcoming despair, good defeating bad; Nagito is positive that the struggles you hold will always be defeated, bludgeoned into a despairing sludge by your all-mighty hope.

◊ And at first, he won't even think of this as a bad thing! You should be proud of it, of course, unless it stirs despair within you.

◊ * That being said, if he sees you struggling with your inability to understand human reactions to an awful point, he would put his obsession with hope aside, and focus on trying to help you as your boyfriend.

◊ Though I'm afraid, he wouldn't be much of a help, because he gets stuck on this one too.

◊ If you ever unintentionally angered someone, however, and/or provoked them to potentially hurt you; he'd immediately step in and lay the damp washcloth of apologies on the accidental fire you had set.

◊ Though there is a high chance, he'll make it worse by saying something he hadn't intended to sound condescending. It just came out that way.

◊ Nagito would never put your well-being before his insatiable need for you to accelerate and empower your hope.

◊ He's your boyfriend before he is your admirer of hope.

— "What...? How can you- how can you be so calm!?" Confusion, fear, and intimidation seemed to overwhelm you as you stepped back, eyebrows creased in utmost confusion as the person before you, seemed to have been angered by your wording.

Suddenly, you had started repeating and reversing over what you had previously said, scanning your wording for things that could have been perceived as offensive; only to grow even more confused as you had found none.

"I... What? Are you... are you mad at me or something?" Your genuine tone of voice, as well as the genuine look of confusion on your face, had been blurred and unnoticed as the ugly emotion of anger seemed to destroy their human senses— and the person had unfortunately taken your question as an insult.

Without another word, the sickening crunch of flesh and bone hitting flesh and bone echoed throughout the trial room. Flesh and bone that had thankfully, and unfortunately, hadn't belonged to you.

"Holy- Someone hold them back!"

"There's... no need for that...!"

Turns out Nagito took the hit for you.

He peeled the hand tending to his nose away from his face, revealing the nasty bruising and the blood dripping down his nostril—despite the gruesome sight of it all, he still seemed to be smiling. Smiling as if something amazing had just happened, and he was dying from the joy he had been feeling.

He wasted no time to spew out whatever he could think of, despite the shock and adrenaline from getting a broken nose, he still fought through the struggle to speak properly, as well as merely breathing without immense pain.

It was like second nature to him, to steer the blame and the aggression away from you—even if it almost killed him. Anything... to protect his hope.

"Haha, this is... Whatever you need to achieve your hope, whether it be a good old-fashioned beat-down or... murder;" a laugh crossing the line to psychotic erupted from Nagito's scratchy throat.

"I personally invite you all—especially (name)—to bruise me up and brutally murder me for your pleasure, and your hop!" —all at the expense of him making sure no one gets the chance to lay a single finger laid onto you.

◊ He loves you, and he swears this is out of (mostly) good intention <3?

◊ i- i think i lost it somewhere in the middle

Rantaro Amami

◊ Literally, the most understanding, supportive, and comforting man you will ever meet and have as an emotional support boyfriend when you struggle with humans and just... humans.

◊ For first impressions, Rantaro will remain as understanding as he already had been, and is. If he visibly sees you struggle with the reactions of others to specific situations, he'd never start up shit, as well as assume you mean something bad immediately. He will always give you the benefit of the doubt, and the fact that he loves you may have been a factor — but I swear, he does this with everyone else too.

◊ If you ever responded/reacted to something that normal human beings usually respond differently, Rantaro would definitely notice, but he wouldn't say anything until he had his suspicions confirmed — and until someone else decided to get pissy or upset about it.

◊ If you ever get into a conflict with someone about how you seem emotionless( even though you're really not ), Rantaro will always be there to defend you and back you up. The first thing he would do is try to understand your side, then their side, and then try to see how the two fit together, and how you both grew to have your reaction.

◊ Most conflicts and arguments end peacefully, at fault to Rantaro's experience of being exposed to many personality types(his sisters), and completely normal and human struggles(also his sisters).

◊ Though, notice how I said most.

◊ Some situations and arguments, really can't be resolved, nor looked past—especially when personal, and very strong feelings are involved. You really can't avoid it when people are still grieving.

◊ But even so, Rantaro will remain a mediator and a peace-keeper until the end; he doesn't and never has enjoyed violence or super over-the-line arguments.

— "N- no, I a- actually don't understand...! I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, shut up! No one's believing that crap!" The shock and the hurt from their words had visibly affected you — the disbelief and their rage hadn't done anything to calm your anxiety from not having understood what had been wrong.

Rantaro would intrude on the one-sided argument, a gentle yet nervous smile on his face as he tried to put some distance between you and the person who had gotten offended. "Hey now, I understand you're upset, but it'll be safer for all of us if you don't insult them. I'm sure this was just a big misunderstanding... let's sit down, yeah?"

◊ If you ever feel frustrated or upset about a past interaction with someone he had reacted in a way you hadn't expected, feel free to expect Rantaro to be there for you with his comfort. Whether it be assurances, hugs, or just a listening ear; he'll be there for you.

◊ He may not understand your struggles to an extreme extent, but he will try his best to empathize with you and to understand you; and if he doesn't? That's okay. Because he still has cuddles + listening to you rant as his plan B solution on getting your frustrations out.

Kokichi Ouma

◊ Kokichi... doesn't understand you at all.

◊ It's second nature to him to react abnormally or to over-exaggerate towards something that probably shouldn't have gained a reaction like that — but that doesn't necessarily mean that had been his true reaction from the start.

◊ They're lies, well, most of it.

◊ When Kokichi notices your confusion, or if you come to him about your frustrations; he won't believe you at first. It's a stupid thing to not trust someone about, yeah, but he lies all the time about this kind of thing — so not only would he feel terrible if you were telling the truth about your real struggle, he would-

◊ Oh, you're telling the truth?

◊ ... Oh.

◊ Well, of course, he feels horrible for his past faked reactions and lies. A part of him believes it to be his fault entirely, whilst the larger, louder part of him believes it to be someone else's fault.

◊ And he's a liar; so of course, he'll lie. To himself, at least.

◊ "Wha—!? Who's been confusing my beloved? Gimme names and I'll get 'em!"

◊ He's not much of a listener, nor a person who really just... talks about serious shit. So despite not wanting to talk directly about serious things, as well as not being the best at comforting you in a 'serious' manner, he has his own little way of dimming your frustrations with human beings.

◊ He won't show it, nor will he mention it, but he does try to be more transparent with you; as well as tries to be less confusing when talking and/or interacting with you.

◊ The reactions are dimmed down, and despite that, he still continues to be silly and still continues to joke around — just not in a way that'll frustrate or confuse you(ish). He's all about getting reactions out of you, especially frustration but, he wouldn't purposely augment your anxiety about this type of thing.

◊ ^^ If he was to do that, however, he would always tell you it was a lie afterwards. After all— despite enjoying the thought of you thinking of him all week—he doesn't want you stressing and/or overthinking about it for the rest of the week.

◊ Kokichi definitely feels guilty of your struggles, however, they may have not blossomed directly from him, he still feels horrible for triggering it? You? — look- what he's trying to say is, he feels awful, and he hadn't meant to make your struggle with understanding other human beings, worse.

◊ Though there are times he does find your confusion and gullibility to be sort of entertaining in a way, but he would constantly feel bad about finding pleasure in your frustration.

◊ Kind of bad.

— "Nishishi! I'm just saying, if someone took a fat shit on my lawn, I would thank them—"

"Wh- Seriously.. ? Why??"

◊ He finds it hilarious how you seem to take his words to heart, but of course, fun comes to an end as he says—

— "Nope! It's a lie!"

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 3 years

Text

destiel, 2.4k, mild hurt/comfort, happy ending. for @wormstacheangel who wanted a fic with anemic!Cas <3

"Cas?"

Dean hears a flump from the direction of the bedroom right as he finishes shaving his left cheek. It takes him about five seconds from there to dashing out of the bathroom, sink hastily turned off and half of his neck still covered in white, wearing an expression of worry that doesn't quite go with the foam beard.

Cas seems to hold the same opinion because his face splits in a wide grin the moment Dean enters the room.

A grin almost distracting enough for Dean to not notice that Cas is back on the bed, and suddenly wearing a blanket.

Almost.

"Goddammit, Cas." He sighs, huffing as panic slips away to make room for exasperation. He walks up to the bed, sets about righting the blanket around Cas.

Cas lets him.

"I should've known -"

"- Dean, I forgot -"

"- you were going to ditch your meds the first night after I stop bugging you 'bout them." Dean mutters, ignoring Cas completely as he makes weak attempts at protesting when Dean tucks one corner of his blanket all the way round at the other side, effectively turning him into what he mentally likes to call a Cas-burrito.

He doesn't like to call it anything at the moment though, cause right now, it's just proof of how Cas doesn’t listen.

Friggin' ex-angel of the lord, billions of years old, with libraries worth of stories and history in his head — but taking his meds when they're supposed to be taken, he forgets.

"It wasn't on purpose." Cas insists in a small voice, and Dean shoots an annoyed look at him before stepping back, finally finished with the blanket routine.

If you could call it that.

Well, Dean does call it that.

Because it happened often enough times after Cas's return from the Empty, human as the day Dean was born, to prompt both a title, and a reason to investigate why in the first place.

And not a lot of road to cover from typing in Cas's symptoms in a search engine — headaches, spells of dizziness, fatigue and feeling cold in general (things Cas had dictated to Sam who was typing, while Dean seethed from the next chair at not having been priorly informed of most of those things that warrant being informed about) — to ending up at the conclusion of a few billion (but actually just the first four) results, just minutes after.

Cas had anemia.

(The doctor Dean took him to the very next day, and Sam's completed research on the Novaks' medical history by the time they got back, confirmed it.)

Now, as far as the Winchesters were concerned, that was practically a relief — especially since their next place to look would've been old, tired books of curses, and the meekest of those would've been several times more worrying than the awfullest case of anemia one could possibly get - and Cas's, thankfully, wasn't even that bad.

However, curses are reversible. Or at least, equally as destroyable as their curse-rs are — who, usually, tend to be pretty destroyable when it comes to Sam and Dean.

Mineral deficiencies, on the other hand, are neither.

So supplements it is, as the doctor said and then prescribed — or so it should have been anyways, except for how the love of Dean's life was a giant baby when it came to taking pills.

"Sure it wasn't." Dean rolls his eyes, continuing in his exaggerated 'Cas' voice. "You just forgot."

Cas squint-frowns at Dean with all the ferociousness of a tired, cold and anemic four-weeks-old human, and Dean perches next to him on the edge of their bed with a sigh, the exasperation wearing off too.

(If he hadn't already wrapped them up, this would've been about the time Dean would've taken Cas's hands in his own.)

"Cas," He says, softer now.

Truth be told, Dean can't imagine what it must be like to go from being a - a being, that can heal itself and everything else, to a human who gets shivery and lightheaded cause of things inside of him he can't even control.

It's got to be terrifying, and obviously awful, and Dean's proud of Cas for the way he's been handling all of it — but dammit he's supposed to do the things that make it easier.

Just like he's supposed to let Dean take care of him.

"Dean," Cas replies, looking sideways at him with most of the stubbornness melted from his expression as well. "I'm a little cold but it's okay. I'm fine." He says, like he can still tell exactly what Dean needs to hear.

What he needs Cas to be.

There's a pause and Dean looks down at his hands. He can't help his next question, it's been on his mind for some time.

"What about the first time you were human?"

Cas noticeably withdraws into himself on hearing him, and Dean feels immediately a pang of guilt. It may have gotten easier to read him since he became human, but an accidental display of emotion was still a novelty. (Being difficult to read was apparently more of a Cas trait than an angel feature.)

"What about it?"

"Shouldn't you, uh," Dean pauses. "Shouldn't you also have been anemic then?"

Cas turns away from him, slow enough that Dean knows he's not taken offense, deliberate enough that he's thinking.

He finally answers, facing the wall ten feet away instead of Dean.

"I guess I was."

"But," Dean frowns. "I thought you had no idea you had anemia until last week."

"Dean, I didn't even know there was anything wrong with me until last week." Cas returns, his tone steady. "And back when I was human for the first time, I didn't either, because I'd never known what healthy felt like before, so I had no idea if I was or wasn't it. Of course I knew in an objective sense, say, the ideal temperature of the human body, but the ordinary amount of chilly one should feel on the streets in winter, or how hard or easy falling asleep is supposed to be, I couldn't have told you."

"Oh."

"And I still wouldn't have been able to," Cas turns back to him. "Had you not been the one to point it out."

Dean scoffs.

All he'd done was ask why Cas had been shivering in the middle of the day. That was it. Honestly, how could he not have seen it sooner?

"So you just," Dean lets out, afraid of the answer. "You just thought the cold spells and the, uh," he falters. "The being tired all the time — you thought that was part of being human?"

Cas smiles wryly. "It is for a lot of people."

"But —"

"And it was, Dean, anemia or not, for a lot of the people I lived with back then."

Dean's stomach bottoms out. He knows Cas is right. Six years ago, he'd been living on the streets, living in a bus. Dean remembers him — homeless, cold, sleeping on the floor of a Gas 'N Sip in his only set of clothes, Cas. And he knows he's responsible for it — knows he deserves to be hated for it, and it messes with him everyday that Cas doesn't — but did Cas really not even know what Dean had done to him? What Dean had — and Jesus, he detests himself — made him go through?

"You really thought all of us were going through that," Dean blinks. "And none of us was saying a thing?"

Cas doesn't look away this time and Dean goes on.

"I mean, I know you put humanity on a pedestal it doesn't deserve, and you think we're all capable of things you're capable of, but Cas, I can't believe you associated being human with being cold and tired, and —" Dean scrubs his face with a hand. "Goddammit, Cas! How could I have let you go out there on your own when you — h-how did I not see it, and — and you should never have had to deal with it all alone, I should've —"

"Dean."

It's not until Cas interrupts him that he realizes he's been rambling. Ranting, really, because it's not fair that Cas only got to see the worst of humanity, and it's not fair that Cas was so used to feeling awful that he just figured everyone felt that way all the time. That Cas was all alone at a time Dean should've been there for him, should've been at his side, been there to make sure he was warm, and make sure he ate spinach and seafood and whatever the hell else is rich in iron — hell, Dean should've looked it up sooner — and Dean should've been able to tell that Cas was sick, even if Cas couldn't, because that's his job.

He hasn't felt this way in a while — this particularly familiar fear of failing Cas, and losing Cas, entwined horribly, returning to him; seeping back in through his skin, and settling on his bones like the vast sediments of guilt and loss he's been carrying for most of his life.

Cas is supposed to be okay, and Dean's supposed to make sure he is.

But so far as upto here, turns out Dean's just been failing in more ways than he'd even known.

"Dean," Cas repeats, pulling him out of his reverie with determination in his voice, and a hand on Dean's left arm, his blanket now hanging off of one shoulder.

Dean immediately reaches to make it right but Cas holds him right where he is. Physically and not-drowning-in-his-own-head wise, and he's the only one who can do that.

"You're not listening to me."

Shit, Cas had been speaking this entire time, hadn't he? "Sorry, I was -" Dean looks Cas in the face to apologize, and lets out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, cause thank god, Cas isn't that pale. "Sorry."

"It's okay." Cas smiles, and it's not lopsided anymore, it's just Cas.

(Dean wonders if he should try to mirror it.)

"I was just saying that now I know that that's not the only part of being human."

"What do you mean?"

"The pain and the suffering, Dean. That's not all." Cas says. "There's also love, and kindness, and worry of the non-lifethreatening kind that dissipates with a smile, and warmth."

Dean stares at him.

"And sure," Cas shrugs. "I knew those things before too — I've read books, I've watched you and Sam — but now I've felt them as humans do, for the very first time, so it's a different kind of knowing."

Cas takes Dean's hand in his, and Dean's the one who squeezes.

"I believe the human expression is 'knowing it in my bones'."

Dean lets out a strained laugh in spite of himself. "Dunno, man. I don't think that's exactly what that means."

"But I do know it in my bones." Cas says simply, and Dean's heart does that thing where it feels too big for his chest. How Cas could go through so much, and still be so full of kindness and good, is one of the mysteries of life Dean's never going to solve — but it doesn't stop him from falling a little bit harder every time it happens.

"You should've gotten to know it the last time too, Cas." Dean tells him, sighing again. "I'm just — I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"Well, you are now." Cas tilts his head. "And I prefer the things I'm learning this time over the last time anyway, and I believe it's you who's always taught me that the present is what matters the most. I'm just glad you're here this time."

"And I'm not going anywhere." Dean squeezes their hands tighter, and Cas's smile grows. God, he deserves the world and he keeps settling for Dean, doesn't he — and Dean hates it, and loves it, and couldn't live without it. He puts his other hand on Cas's face, gloving his cheek. Cas leans closer.

"I love you."

Dean's throat constricts. "You're too good to me."

"I think that's the point."

Dean can't help but smile, and he really can't help the tears.

"I'm okay." Cas says, once more. "Are you?"

There's only one answer, and nothing to fight this time.

Dean closes the gap.

"I love you too."

It's not their first kiss, nor is it the first time they've ever said it — but it feels more significant than anything's felt before. It's more them, too — not sickly-sweet or angry and fighting, just them, coming around to the end of a hard talk, falling into each other's arms with an ease they reserve for each other only, and sinking into each other, slow and perfectly synced, like they're made for it.

When they pull back, a moment later, Dean leans his forehead against Cas's and licks his lips. Breathes.

"There's so much more to being human," he hears himself saying. "Than you'd ever find out just living here in the bunker with us."

"Dean," it's Cas's turn to sigh. "I've already found everything I need."

Dean's cheeks heat up. "I thought it was never too late to learn."

"It isn't." Cas leans back, hands falling back to his sides from where they were wrapped around Dean's neck. "But sometimes, practising old things is more important."

Dean immediately dissolves into laughter. "Yeah, no, great going. Call me old before you go to town practising on me."

Cas ignores him save a twinkle in his eyes. "And some things, I'd like us to learn together."

Dean grins.

"And some things," Cas concludes, with a wide smile. "Aren't taught anywhere else in the world."

"Yeah?"

Cas shrugs.

"Why so?"

"Well, rumor has it the teacher's afraid of flying."

Dean freezes for a moment, silent, and then snorts — because yeah, that's funny, Ha Ha, but okay, if Cas is fit enough to make jokes, then he's fit enough to take his meds now, and Dean tells him that gleefully, resulting in Cas's grin immediately turning upside down as he tries to scoot away from Dean, except Dean's kinda expecting it so he's prepared to launch himself on the bed if he has to — and he does have to, cause Dean might love him for his heart, and his courage, and his kindness, but remember how Cas is just a baby in a trenchcoat?

Yeah.

(And that is just a regular morning in the Winchester household.)

#destiel #destiel fic #angst with a happy ending #destiel kiss #deancas fluff #cas angst #well. minor angst.#long post #i really hope you like it Rubi <33 #it got considerably longer (and sadder in the middle) than i'd expected it to be?? but oh well :'))#nyrawyra #userpris #userdee #spncreatorsdaily #dean pov #kashmircastiel #friendshapedcastiel #rambleoncas #oh writing my writing

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woopboopboop · 3 years

Text

heaven is a place on earth; hell is too

a/n: i just like the idea behind the prompt so i thought i’d write it. and to @harrysgloves, thank you for the encouragement sent early this year! happy reading everyone! :)

content warnings: strong language, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of drug.

[usually, in the story, the gang leader will kidnap a person, right? this time, it’s the other way around]

“Are you a demon?”

She stops twirling the handcuffs in her hand and put it on the wooden drawer next to the bedroom doorway. For a beat, she doesn’t quiet know what to say because it is not the common “where am I?” or “who are you?” or even him trying to escape. But, only for a beat. Then, she straightens from where she is leaning at the door.

When he asks the next question, she pretends to not hear and calls for Ezra. If it is not for the real intention behind this, she probably would entertain his question and tell him if there is any angel in the room, if she is one, it would be an incarnation of Lucifer.

The younger boy comes as quick as she calls him and stands beside her at the doorway, waiting for whatever she has to say.

“He’s still in the cloud,” she says, eyes still assessing Harry who is lying on his back on the bed before turning her attention to the raven haired boy next to her. “How many did you use?”

“Just like you wrote in the note,” Ezra answers.

She hums and returns to look at Harry who is now looking at his hands, inspecting for who knows what and mumbling something. Well, she did want the drug to make him forget a little bit. But not to the point where he is delirious. In this condition, there is no way he can give her what she is looking for.

“Are you sure?” Her eyes return to Ezra’s confused ones. There must be something wrong somewhere. He did what she told him to. Maybe not in a way she had instructed it. “You do know there’s a point before the number five, right?”

When she said that the confusion in his eyes shifts to realisation and it dawns on him. That would explain it. He did not forget, obviously. He misread it. He should’ve given Harry a half of the vial, not the whole thing.

She let out a sigh, thinking how there is no undoing this now. She can only hope the effect of the drug will wear off soon. Besides her, Ezra looks like he is trying to say something but the words don’t come out. He gives up then, head drooping slightly, the tips of his ears are red.

“It’s okay, Ezra.” She gives him a small smile, trying to ease his silent guilt as he knows this plan is important to her. The smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes but he doesn’t want to say anything, afraid that it will make the situation worst. Instead, he says his apology before leaving quietly and quickly after she dismisses him.

“Am I… on a boat?” Harry slurs.

At first, she answers him by shaking her head, hand grabbing the abandoned cuffs on the drawer while she strides over to him. The colour is muted in the room and she figures he can’t see much but the faint cold blue of the evening that is falling like a dusky curtain of the room. So when she stops a reasonable distance away from him, she answers him curtly, “No. Not anymore.”

The sight is a great pity. It is almost like seeing someone on the edge of falling off the pedestal. Who would’ve thought that there will be time when she can see a person who is deemed organised and calculated, feared in the underworld, be so weak. Unguarded. His once pressed, white dress shirt stained with dirt and blood.

Seeing how vulnerable he is in that moment; she can just end him then and there. That was the job after all. And she did pull the trigger that had sent brain pieces to fly everywhere before Harry landed face down on the flour sacks stacked on the boat with a thud, leaving white powder dancing in the air. Not really a way to go for a notorious gang leader if you ask her but the woman and the two men on the other side of the canal seemed content which made it another job well done.

Except that the brain blown was not Harry’s. And as far as the world, especially the Abramo who had delivered their order to end Harry’s life and insisted on witnessing it, is concerned, he is a dead man.

“Am I in hell?” His voice snaps her from her trance. She thought he slips out of his consciousness again when he went silence seconds ago.

This sod. She tilts her head, looking at him and shrugs. “Depends.”

There is something in his eyes and she knows he is trying to make sense of it all because she feels his resistance when she tugs his wrist closer to the bed post above his head. A part of him resurfacing, despising to be in such position. But his brain might still be too hazy to think through so he just let her cuffs him without much struggle.

“Oh! Kinky,” he teases, neck straining to look where his cuffed wrist is at which makes her scoffs. He then looks at her like he is taking note of her face, eyes narrowed.

Maybe he is remembering how she looks like so it’s easy for him to instruct his men to hunt her down once he gets out of there. If he is able to walk out there alive that is.

If he wants to.

If she lets him.

Because, even though as organised and calculated of a man Harry is, this time, she has the few steps ahead.

///

“Now, really,” Harry starts. Sitting up becomes more of a task when one of his hands is cuffed and his brain feels like it is rattling against his skull with every move he makes. “If you wanted to see me so badly, we could have just meet up.”

When he woke up minutes ago, he thought he was in his bed until his senses kicked in and it hurt almost as his throbbing head. Since then, he has been trying to get out of the restrain that tied him to the bed post on top his head and figures out what is happening, where is he. Out the window, it is pitch-black.

He probably is in hell; his brain had decided to land him there.

In retrospect, it is as surprising as it is expected. To be in hell, that is. After all of the deals making, bloods spilling, life taking, fists colliding, he knows there is a place for him here. Only that he expects that it would be overwhelmingly hot and full of screaming human, or what’s left of them. Where he is now is opposite of that. The cold nips his skin and the silence is unnerving. Maybe hell is not all fire and brimstones.

“I tried,” the woman says. Her voice is smooth.

That smooth voice is a good sign. It shows that this person is still able to tolerate whatever deal that he can make out of this. But it is not necessarily safe.

“You are a busy man.”

In between the lack of conversation, he tries to place her somewhere and everywhere but he has never seen her before. Moving up to find a more comfortable position, the movement has caused a dull throb behind his head that makes him wince. Somehow, it also unlocks a sound of gunshot and his gaze flicks to her. At the foot of the bed, she is unfazed.

“You shot me.” His voice rumbles lowly; somewhere between amusement and danger.

“That what was asked for.” It is stated oh-so-matter-of-factly and he accepts it.

He is in no place to make a fuss about it since enemies, like friends or business partners, are made along the way. If anything, he is a little bit bewildered at the attempt of keeping him alive and he doesn’t like not knowing what brought him here. Well, aside from someone ordering this woman here to kill him, but he is not dead though, which makes the motive behind whatever this is, is more questionable.

“Am I dead? I am in hell?”

The questions are supposed to be echoed in his brain but his slightly hazy state betrays him which caused the words to left his mouth unfiltered. The words then hang in the air and it makes him internally cringe. Her unamused face certainly doesn’t help with the situation. “What?”

“I never really thought people like you believe in afterlife.” To be fair, he never really thought about it himself. He is too busy living his life here. Not the one after. “And that is the second time you ask me that question,” she continues.

“So, I am alive.” He swears his mouth is really trying to destroy all the reputation he has been building all these years of being a gang leader. Fearless, self-assured and all that but he conceals the uncertainty in his voice with a smirk. “Why? They didn’t pay you enough for you to complete your job? Maybe you are afraid my men would take revenge on my death?”

She raises one eyebrow, shifting her weight from one leg to the other and he takes that as a sign to probe further, “Sentiment, perhaps?”

“They paid enough. A vendetta is the least of my concern. And no, it’s not sentiment.” With every answer to his question, she takes a step closer until she stops at his side.

“Then you’re holding me for ransom? It would be a huge amount of money, although, I don’t think my accountant would be so happy with that much money flowing out –”

“I have more important purpose for you than death or money.”

If it’s not him or his money, so it might be for her own benefit. The thing about Harry or he would like to think so in this way about himself is that his concern when it comes to being in a situation or making a deal is he will be leaning unto anything that benefits him the most. He tolerates as long as he is presented with a mutually beneficial outcome. In this situation, it is no difference. She wants something from him and he wants her to let him go.

“Interesting.” A smirk on his lips is now blooming into a full smile as he tilts his head. “Maybe you can uncuff me first and then we can carry on with our business?”

If she hears him, she is purposely ignoring his question and diverts her attention to reaching whatever it is in her trouser pocket. When she pulls something out of it, she holds a picture of a man at an arm length. Its creased lines showed that it has been folded and unfolded multiple times.

He is about to take it from her hand to inspect something scribbled at the corner of the picture but she retreats her arm half way, still holding it between her thumb and forefinger. “Do you know him?”

“You know, we could’ve discussed about this over a meet up or dinner. The cuff is really unnessa –”

“Just answer me.”

If she has been quiet this whole time, passive, this is the first time he sees her reacting. The smoothness in her voice now has an edge to it, her eyes are hard and piercing; a presage of storm. He presses his lips together and answers with a nod.

“I need you to talk to him,” she says. The picture is folded and put in her pocket again.

He cocks one eyebrow towards her. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I know only you can reach him.”

That is true, to a certain extent. The last question he has now is that will doing what she wants him to do benefits him too, so he asks in the way that he usually does. “What if I won’t?”

Like a fired bullet, her fist catches tight in the front of his clothes and then her hand finds his throat, knocking his head hard against the headboard. He juts his chin up almost defiantly and grabs her wrist with his free hand.

He pushes her wrist away but it is a futile effort as he can feel how her fingers reach near the particular throbbing part at the nape of his neck, digging in.

“Fir – first the cuff. Now, you are tr – trying to choke me? Take me, fuck, take me on a dinner first, at least.” He grins despite his choked words and his ragged breath.

“You fucker,” she spats, eyes darken, “this is all a game for you, isn’t it?”

The storm he predicts reaches him and he is trapped in it as she pushes him impossibly further into the headboard, her fingers tightening around his neck while his loosens up around her wrist. He is whirling little by little, the full smile reduced to a tug at the corner of his lips.

“The Abramo was right when they come to us, to me, to launch their vendetta. You are a cocky piece of shit and the only place you deserve to be at is at the bottom of the cold, murky canal with a big gap behind your head!”

“Do you regret… no – not killing me?” He chuckles but it sounds strangled.

“You are making it really easy right now,” she snarls.

Maybe it is the restriction of breath or the warmth of her breath fanning out over his face against the coldness of the room but there is a glint in her eyes. He had been in near-death’s hold before but this feels like he is being thrusted into one without warning as he witnesses a sinister gleam in her face. She has been waiting for this moment. However, before she can end it or start it, she let go of him and strengthens herself up.

“Although,” she sighs, backing away. “I believe your mum and sister won’t find it that easy.”

It takes him minutes to be able to focus on her again, blinking and gasping a little. Her eyes are still boring into him. In between relief and dismal and the ringing in his ears, he notices her settling into the unfazed demeanour she was in before until –

“Dotty and Dusty will probably going to miss you too when you’re gone.”

His stills.

Nobody. Nobody knows about the cats.

Rivals targeting his family is a part of his work hazard and he always makes sure they are under his protection. It is such trivial matter. It is only cats’ names. But to know it specifically holds a certain power against him because it either means that she had been in his house before or it means that she has been in close proximity with either his mum or his sister to know about that much information.

And at that moment, whatever security he puts his family under, it is not safe anymore. His stomach bottoms out and she is delighted to see him in that way to say the least.

“What do you want?” He grits his teeth, moving forward to fight and the cuff clinks against the headboard because of the sudden jerk.

“There’s only one thing that I want.” Her voice is smooth. She is back at the feet of the bed again, now, with a faint smile on her lips. “But I need you to be able to hold up a proper conversation first before we continue with the business.”

It is not much of a mock or provocation but he still feels a squeezing of terror and of anger. His jaw clenches. “I am talking to you now, don’t I?”

She is already walking towards the door, leaving him struggling to stand up behind her. The bed legs scrap against the wooden floor as he pulls the bed along with him when he tries to grab her arm or shoulder or hair but she is already far away from his reach.

“Not enough,” she says while sparing him a look over the shoulder.

When he realises he is not going to go anywhere, not when he is still restrained to the bed, especially, not when the wood under his feet begins to warp, he fell back on the bed, eyes squeezed tight to block the sharp pain of his head. Defeated.

“Get a good rest. I need you fresh first thing in the morning,” she says before the door shuts.

Wherever he is, be it in the real world or the after, this is hell.

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