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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good.

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose.

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

#atml #scheduled post #yandere x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere link

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

Chosen (Park Seonghwa) Rated

Pairing: Creature! Park Seonghwa × Human! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Sci-Fi/Fantasy AU.

Summary: Symbolizing purity, innocence, and daintiness, the Daughters of Aster had been hand-picked since a young age to be brought up and raised for a very special task: to carry the offspring of the nobility in the kingdom, which just so happens to consist of cold-blooded humanoid creatures. And now that she's become of age, it's Y/N's turn to be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: Tentai content including tentacle bondage, tentacle sucking, breast play, suction play, breeding kink, penetration with tentacles, multiple orgasms, semi voyeurism, reader is a virgin and Seonghwa is whipped for her, mentions of eggs, and stomach bulges. (It's my first time writing actual tentacle smut so I apologize if it sucks.)

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Gulping harshly as she pressed a hand to open the large, metal gate that guarded the huge mansion, the young woman hesitantly stepped inside the spacious and grim-looking garden. Underestimating the weight of the gate, she softly jolted back when it suddenly slipped out of her grasp and clashed back into place. She winced momentarily when the loud noise seemed to resonate, spooking several of the small critters and ravens that roamed around the small terrain. Glancing back, she half expected an old groundskeeper to swoop out of one of the trees and chastise her reckless behavior. But nothing surrounded the area except the foliage, trees, and rose bushes that added to the beauty of the grand estate.

Gathering back her courage, the quaint young woman took slow and careful steps across the small dirt path that led straight to the front stairs of the mansion. It was a somewhat terrifying architectural design, reminiscent of the old gothic-styled cathedrals from ancient times, not at all fashioned after the pompous and outlandish French designs most of the other members of the aristocracy preferred. The gray stone walls made the place seem cold and distant, the hardly lit windows signaled that it was probably rarely inhabited, and the black ravens perched on the top of the sculpted angel monuments lined up through the staircase only made the sensation feel more haunting and chilly.

Finally, in front of the main entrance, she hesitated as her fingers brushed along the round metal door handle. She felt frozen with fear as she realized there was no returning after all. This was the moment she had been prepared for her entire life. In a few moments, she was about to meet.....

Her master.

Just that thought sent shivers down her spine. She did not wish to ponder too much on the various horror stories she often heard back in the institute, nor imagine what kind of life she would live now as a surrogate to one of...their kind.

In the very moment she lifted her hand once again, she took a jerked back when the door seemingly opened by itself, a young maid looking surprised to see her standing there. Upon inspecting her attire and recognizing the crest that held her dark blue cloak in place, the maid's expression beamed with joy.

"Oh! You must be Miss Y/N correct?"

Nodding her head and affirming it was indeed she, Y/N felt puzzled when the tiny maid practically yanked her inside, albeit not intended to harm her, she simply seemed excited about her presence, which frankly made no sense to her. It was not as if surrogates were treated with kindness let alone respect. When her hands reached up towards her neck, the young woman was quick to stop her.

"Oh please! Let me do that for you."

Although she was not particularly fond of people coming up so close in her personal space, she maintained a calm demeanor whilst the maid removed the long cloak off her frame, delicate hands folding it perfectly and tucking it under her arm.

"I'll have this cleaned and ironed out for you Miss before taking it back to your room. You must be famished after coming here after such a long journey." She paused briefly and examined Y/N's complexion, which seemed rather pale and depleted, making her pout rather sadly at the state their new guest was in.

"If you would like, I can ask the cook to prepare a meal for you. Do tell, what is your favorite dish?"

Y/N waved a dismissive hand at the kind lady's offer.

"Please, do not trouble yourself. I am not the least bit hungry." Indeed, it was not a lie. She was overly anxious and uneasy that she did not believe it to be possible to even fathom stomaching any sort of sustenance at that moment.

"If you do not mind and if it is allowed... I would much prefer to retire for the evening." Y/N humbly requested.

Nodding with the understanding that the new company was weary, the young maid took hold of a golden bell tied around her waist and proceeded to ring it moderately. In mere seconds, a tall sharply dressed gentleman came up and bowed towards her.

"Cedric would you please escort Miss Y/N to her room?"

Gesturing for her to follow, the butler guided her up the flight of stairs into the second story of the house. Passing through a long corridor, Y/N glanced now and then at the outside patio through the windows that overlooked the gardens. They were much larger than what she initially thought, and the longer she looked, the denser the trees seemed to appear. She was so distracted by the scenery that she nearly collided face-first into the poor butler's back had he not spoken up first and made her steps come into a screeching halt.

"This will be your room from now on miss." Producing a string of keys out of his pocket, Cedric unlocked the door and gently pushed it open, stepping inside to make room for Y/N to pass.

Her breath was nearly taken away by the sheer size of the room. It was double the size of the old living space she used to share with 6 other girls back in the institute and was furnished with more than what she'd ever need. The decor too seemed like something more befitting for someone of the family than for someone of her station.

"If there is anything the matter with the decor or should you prefer a different pattern, you may simply speak the word and the Master shall arrange for the room to be modified as you like."

At the mention of the Master, Y/N felt that nerve-racking tingle travels down her body once again.

"Shall you need any assistance, please feel free to ring the bell attached by your bed and one of us will be more than happy to aid you?" Reaching for the door handle, Cedric bid her good night before closing the door to leave her to her thoughts.

Still feeling cold from the long walk, Y/N stepped closer to the fireplace, outstretching her hands in hopes of warming them up. She was grateful that although not expecting her early, they had prepared a nice fire to warm up her room. After getting filled with the heat, Y/N went over to one of the dressers so that she could change into her night attire. Upon opening the many drawers, she was shocked at not finding any of her old clothes, instead, there was an abundance of luxurious clothing which she did not recognize. Storming over to the large wardrobe, she too found that none of her personal belongings had been delivered, they seemed to have all been replaced with new apparel. Knowing that she had no choice, she went back to the first dresser that she had looked in before and rummaged through to find the plainest and simple nightgown she could find. Reaching for the row of buttons training down the middle of her blouse, she undid them one by one with utter care before slipping it off her body, letting the garment fall on the floor. Running the zipper down, her long and flowing skirt joined her blouse, one foot delicately kicking them away for the time being. Standing there in nothing but her undergarments made Y/N suddenly feel apprehensive. She carefully looked around the room again, feeling the strange sensation that someone was watching her. Shaking that thought out of her head, she quickly threw the nightgown over her head and finished dressing. The fabric was soft to the touch and it didn't scratch against her delicate skin, but the most surprising factor was that it fit like a glove on her body. It made her wonder if perhaps they had prepared it in advance or it was merely a coincidence.

Picking up her discarded clothes, she neatly placed them on the table near her, slightly folding them and smoothing them over. Going over to the bed, she pulled back the covers before sliding her body onto the mattress and covering herself. She couldn't help the small blissful sigh coming out of her mouth as her sore limbs welcomed the soft and comfortable bed, the pillow feeling like a fluffy cloud. As she laid there, she began to reminisce about all the events that led up to that very moment, or more specifically, that very morning during the Auctioning.

Hearing the loud applause coming from the other end of the room, Y/N tried to calm her nerves, knowing she was the next one in line to face the crowd. As soon as she took one step forward, she was stopped by none other than the Head of the Institute, who took hold of her wrist and looked at the girl behind her.

"Abigail, you go next. Y/N, you're coming with me."

Without so much as a further explanation, Y/N found herself dragged away from the waiting room where her fellow inmates also looked at each other in confusion at the sudden interruption. Y/N wanted to speak up and ask what was happening, was she not to be auctioned off to one of the many noble families? The old woman of course knew all the questions Y/N had, but she didn't say a word until they were outside in the front of the building, where there was a carriage awaiting her.

"Your personal belongings have already been sent out to your new home. We've received word to have you delivered as soon as possible." Even with that brief explanation, Y/N still didn't understand anything. Noticing her distressed state, the Headmistress sighed softly.

"Y/N, you are not to be auctioned off like the rest of the girls. Someone has already purchased you many months back, but it seems they accidentally forgot it and thus added you to the lineup. Luckily, I managed to find you before you stood up on that platform. Certainly avoided a disaster." The old woman chuckled, yet that did not relieve Y/N's worries.

What did she mean someone had already bought her? Who were they? Where was she sold off to?

Unfortunately, none of those questions were answered, instead, she found herself being pushed inside the carriage and speedily taken away to an unfamiliar side of the country that she had never seen before, away to who knew where until she ended up right in the place she was currently in.

Drowsy and tear-filled eyes eventually closed even whilst remembering the events of the day. Y/N knew she was more than likely lucid dreaming as she slowly drifted off to sleep. She didn't feel fully unaware of her surroundings though, and perhaps it was that skeptical feeling that kept her on edge and guarded against anything around her. It especially came into help when she seemingly felt something stroke her cheek, gliding down to caress the outline of her jaw. At first, she believed it was nothing more than her imagination, but when she felt a thumb running across her bottom lip, she opened her eyes, screaming and sitting up when she saw a dark figure standing right in front of her. He was started himself by her outburst, immediately retracting his hand when he witnessed how agitated his innocent act had made her.

"I'm sorry..... I didn't mean to frighten you." His voice was soothing and low, clearly intended so that she'd calm down.

"Would you mind if I..." His gesture indicated that he wanted permission to come near her again, which she felt like she had no choice but to give.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the handsome stranger reached out and cupped the sides of her face, moving it slowly to the left and then towards the right, eyes drinking up every detail of her countenance.

"My God, you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you tending to the gardens in that place."

Hearing those words made Y/N widen her eyes. How did he know about that? Unless...

"Are... Are you my new master?" She couldn't even believe it.

The young man giggled softly.

"If you don't mind, I would much rather prefer if you called me by my name, Seonghwa." He introduced himself. Y/N briefly nodded, but obviously, it wasn't enough for him as he leaned in close, nose nearly bumping into her own.

"Please say it." He urged her to.

"Seonghwa." She breathed out his name, to which he let out a gentle smile as one of his hands moved to tuck some of her hair behind her ear.

"Once again, I apologize for startling you, my dear. I just got impatient and couldn't resist myself. I just had to see you." He confessed before getting up out of her space.

"You must be tired so I'll leave you be now. Get some rest love and I'll see you in the morning."

Y/N expected him to walk towards the same door she had come inside from, but she looked with astonishment as Seonghwa went over towards another door which she had mistakenly assumed to be her bathroom, and opened it up.

"My room adjoins to yours, so if you ever want to come and see me, I'm just a knock away." He fought hard to not laugh at her flustered expression, whispering out another good night before retreating into his chambers.

Y/N released a breath she didn't know she was holding. So far her new master looked...normal? Nothing at all like what she expected from the many tales that roamed back at the institute. Seonghwa was nothing that she expected, exceptionally beautiful, poised, kind, and gallant. But she knew she could not be fooled by his charming manners, after all, none of the members of the aristocracy were actual humans...

And it was only a matter of time before she figured out what sort of monster Seonghwa was.

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Y/N tried to steady her heartbeat as Seonghwa drew closer to her, lips brushing against her own. Although this was the exact moment she had been prepared all her life for, she still felt a tinge of nervousness as she felt Seonghwa's hands clasp around her waist, his body, which was all bare save for the briefs between his thighs, pressing against her own.

"Tell me, my dear has anyone ever kissed you before?" He smiled when she shook her head.

"May I kiss you?" His inquiry sounded so sweet and pure that Y/N didn't think twice about lifting her face and closing her eyes.

Seonghwa's lips were soft, reminding her of the soft petals belonging to the different roses in the gardens outside, precious little buds that she had been granted permission to take care of in the month she had been living with him. He had never once denied her anything and had been very attentive to her every need. And now as he tenderly kissed her, pouring his heart into the loving kiss, Y/N wondered if this is what love felt like, that foreign emotion that she'd often hear spoken about yet always been told it would never be something she or any of the other girls at the Institute would ever experience. She didn't know, but she knew that she enjoyed whatever this was, this feeling of Seonghwa's lips closing over hers, only to pull away and then dive back in, each minute that passed enabling his kissing to become more ardent and passionate. It was truly breathtaking for her, as she'd often find herself gasping for air each time his lips would pull apart from her mouth.

Starting at the corners of her lips, Seonghwa began pressing butterfly kisses down towards her jaw. Y/N's breath hitched, neck tilting back when she felt him nibbling against her skin. It seemed as if he knew exactly where to direct his attention towards, her sharp breaths an indication that she was warming up to his touches. Releasing one hand off her face, he moved it down until his fingers brushed against her collarbone, treading dangerously close to her covered bosoms.

"Now tell me, love has anyone ever touched you here?"

As if on instinct, Y/N arched her back towards his palms when they lightly squeezed at her pillowy mounds, a light, and embarrassed moan being uttered by her for the first time in her life.

"N-no, no one's ever touched me there." Her shy confession made him smirk as he then dropped his hand down to lift her flimsy nightgown.

"What about here? Has anyone touched here?"

Cupping her sex, he found it warm and inviting, his body aching to be inside of her, to fill her up and breed her as he wanted to. He didn't need her to answer, just her mouth going agape and emitting the cutest whimpers he had ever heard was enough of an answer.

"No of course not. You're pure and completely untouched by anyone else....." When she felt his fingers slide across her wettened folds, her hands reached out and gripped against his biceps, using them to keep herself steady as they continued exploring her deepest places. It felt so unusual yet wonderful to have Seonghwa pry open her lips, fingers ever so gradually slipping past her tightness to lodge inside her warm cavern. Once settled, they began moving, pulling themselves out before coming back in. To distract her, Seonghwa stooped down to kiss her once more, it felt more rushed than before, tongue occasionally poking outwards to scrape against the roof of her mouth. As his fingers worked hard to stretch her open and mouth busied in devouring her adorable whines, it was all to prepare her and get her to ease up before he continued with anything. Pulling away with a deep inhale, Seonghwa used his free thumb to wipe away the excess saliva on her bottom lip, breath ghosting over her own.

"Y/N... I'm going to need you to stay calm and not freak out. All right?"

By his tone, Y/N deduced that she was about to figure out just what exactly it was that made him different from her. She could feel him hesitate, looking just as scared as she did the first time she arrived at the estate. Just as she was about to assure him that she was not afraid, she felt something crawl up her legs, it was somewhat slimy and had a couple of ridges along the underside of it. Glancing down, she nearly fell back onto the bed when she witnessed two long tentacles wrapping themselves around her thighs, tearing up part of the silk fabric of her nightgown. Before she could stumble back, another tentacle launched out to wrap around her waist, pulling her forward to help her regain her balance. She breathed heavily, looking visibly shocked as she realized they were coming out of none other than Seonghwa himself. He scanned her face, trying to read her reactions. Scared? Disgusted? Apprehensive? It was rather difficult to make out exactly what she thought about his tendrils holding her steady and tightening around her body. Wanting to test something, he produced two more tentacles, these slightly thinner than the previous ones. They moved closer towards Y/N, who of course, instinctively recoiled from the unusual limbs.

"Don't worry. If I were in your position, I'd be utterly revolted as well." Although he spoke out those words with a dry smile, they held a lot of pain within them and it made Y/N saddened to hear him. Wanting to make up for it, she outstretched her hand towards the nearest tendril, the very limb slightly pulling away when it felt her come near. No doubt Seonghwa was hesitant about having her touch him. Undeterred, Y/N reached out once more, this time the tentacle didn't recoil but subtly leaned into her touch. Ever so slowly, it began to wrap around her arm, looping itself around her wrist, and settling itself on top of her palm. Y/N couldn't resist herself as she softly squeezed at the tender limb, thumb curiously playing around with the tiny suction cups along the underside of it. She couldn't help but giggle when it slightly slithered itself to attach some of the cups onto her palm, applying light pressure that had a rather pleasant feeling. So amused by the bizarre member, she didn't realize that the other thin tentacle had moved until she felt it loop itself on her other arm, the same as the one on her right side. Seonghwa felt relieved when she didn't seem afraid anymore, instead, she now smiled up towards him, fingers gently caressing the smooth surface of his tentacles. Unbeknownst to her, he could feel every touch ministered on them, the tentacles being a part of him, an extension of him. And they were highly sensitive to any sort of contact made with them.

"Can we...can we continue?" There was a slight quiver in his voice that did not go unnoticed by the woman held hostage by his slimy tendrils. Understanding exactly what he was referring to, Y/N nodded, eagerly awaiting to see just how Seonghwa would impregnate her.

Feeling herself lifted off the floor, the tentacles gently laid her down on the bed, detaching themselves momentarily off her body as they began poking around at the semi-ruined fabric of her attire. Grasping at several ends, Y/N gasped astonishingly when they tore off the rest of her dress, discarding the remaining pieces on the floor. Laying there completely naked in front of Seonghwa, who did not hide anything in his stare as they raked her entire body. Feeling self-conscious, Y/N moved to cover herself but the tentacles were faster as they wrapped around her wrists and ankles, holding the first ones above her face while the other ones kept her legs apart, allowing Seonghwa to fully gawk at her wetness. The thought of burying himself deep in her and breeding her made him uncontrollably hard.

Y/N squirmed as several more tentacles sprouted out of Seonghwa's body, making her question just how many he could produce. Two medium-sized ones traveled up her sternum, oozing out some sort of secretion that trickled onto her breasts. The tentacles then latched themselves onto her perky mounds, twisting and pulling at her nipples until they hardened and poked out. They continued to toy around with her boobs, flicking against her sensitive nubs now and then before going back to clamp down and attach their suction cups to her tender skin. Y/N shuddered as she felt them slightly vibrate, adding to the daze-inducing state she was drifting off to.

Just as she was distracted in enjoying the pleasure the two tentacles were giving her, she let out a shriek when she felt another slimy organ come up and flit at her clit. The tentacles around her ankles kept her from closing her thighs, leaving her with no choice but to succumb to the movements made in her delicate button. It felt so surreal, so extraordinary, and she writhed around on the bed as much as she was able to when the tiny end of the tentacle sped up and rubbed faster against her swelling clit, the delicious friction making her mouth water. She wondered if this was the bliss some of the girls back home talked about, the ones who had gone out of their way to break the solemn vow they swore about remaining intact and pure, forcing them out of the Institute as they were no longer considered valuable vessels for future buyers.

"If this is what they enjoyed then, I would have gladly broken my vow too." Y/N mused to herself. But then she remembered had she broken her vow she would have never been able to meet Seonghwa, and she'd grown attached to him in that short period of meeting him.

"No... It's better this way. Having saved my body just for him so he can use it as he pleases. Have me carry his children. Oh, God." She felt herself clench around nothing as she thought about being stuffed by him, carrying his babies. Months before, the idea of carrying the offspring of some humanoid stranger horrified her. Now, it thrilled her and she looked forward to it.

"I'm going to slide a few more inside of you now, ok? It might feel uncomfortable, but I promise I'll make sure you don't feel any pain." Y/N vigorously nodded, the tentacles around her ankles spreading her legs further and bringing them up so her knees were bent.

Two thinner tentacles, even thinner than the ones around her wrists came out and began probing around her hole, stretching it ever so slightly before sliding inside her. Y/N felt them scraping against her tender walls, leaving her flabbergasted at feeling them creep deeper and deeper against her right muscles, stopping once they reached her cervix. Ever so carefully, they position themselves at her opening, prying her cervix open. A dull sting shot up her body, not exactly painful, but it wasn't exactly pleasant to feel. Noticing this, Seonghwa made the tentacles release their hold on her tight rim.

"Perhaps I might need to make use of this after all."

Y/N didn't know exactly what 'this' was, all she felt was the two tentacles lightly thrust inside of her, tips flicking up to tease at her sweet spot. And then she felt it, the tentacles oozed some sort of secretion to coat her inner walls, even moving to spread some of the liquid against the entrance of her womb. The tentacle working on her clit had to momentarily stop when Y/N began spasming, small gasps and moans spilling out her lips, not realizing that she had just had a subtle orgasm, but Seonghwa knew. He felt when her juices covered her walls, causing them to become more slick and wet, an effect produced by the natural pheromones his tentacles had just sprayed inside her, helping her to relax and not feel any more discomfort. Although it would also make her highly sensitive, meaning she would become a sticky and panting mess by the end of it, every stroke or brush inside her body would be heightened considerably. And Seonghwa was rather curious to see how that would play out.

Finally, a rather large and thick tentacle sprung out, heading directly towards her opening. It contracted itself as it skimmed past her entrance, flowing smoothly thanks to the previous tentacles that had worked Y/N's core open and the pheromones he had induced into her. At first, nothing seemed to happen, then Y/N's mouth flew open as she felt the tentacle start expanding, bottoming out inside of her, forcing her stretched-out muscles to widen even more. Unable to resist the urge, she looked down, nearly wheezing as she looked at the tightly nestled tentacle inside of her, pulsing inside her slick covered borders. Just those small pulsing vibrations had her throwing her head back as more liquids seeped out of her. Feeling her arousal coating its skin, it seemed to rile up the large tentacle as it began pushing itself further until it reached the entrance of her cervix.

"Usually humanoids of my kind would place as many eggs can fit inside their surrogate's womb... But I don't wish to overwhelm you with that, especially since it's your first time." With a smug grin, Seonghwa stooped forward and placed a hand on top of her abdomen.

"So let's just try it with two."

The large tentacle began contracting once more, wriggling around as if trying to get something out. Y/N soon felt what it was as a smooth, round, and semi-hard object began pushing itself inside of her. The two smaller tentacles, which were still lodged on the sides of her walls, went back to pry her cervix open, allowing the egg easier access as it traveled through her tunnel and nestling itself inside her womb. Seonghwa watched proudly as her belly swelled up as soon as the egg lodged itself in her, fingers brushing against the oval outline bulging out of her skin.

"So pretty, so beautiful." He praised her, teeth tugging down at his bottom lip as a hidden tentacle had come out to rid him of his last article of clothing, stroking his hardened cock generously, the suction cups paying close attention to his leaking head.

"How are you feeling so far love?" Seonghwa wanted to make sure she was fine before proceeding.

Y/N fluttered her eyes open, soft pants spewing out her mouth.

"Please...more." That was all she could manage to mumble out.

Satisfied by her answer, the massive limb started wriggling once more, popping out another egg that scraped deliciously against the roof of her cave, journeying past her barriers and plopping next to the previous egg, joining it inside her womb. With slight embarrassment, Y/N cried out as another wave of pleasure poured out of her, hands wanting to cover her reddened face at the thought of so easily cumming by the mere thought of Seonghwa's eggs inside her while his tentacle continued throbbing inside her.

"Don't feel ashamed my love. I just so happen to enjoy watching your face contort with pleasure." His admittance only made her more sheepish and flustered.

"We're almost done, love. I just need to fertilize my eggs."

Y/N groaned loudly when the tentacle began moving, thrusting itself in and out, her previous juices seeping out every time it pulled out her body, creating a wet stain on the sheets underneath. Maybe it was her imagination, but Y/N swore she could feel the eggs move inside her, bouncing each time the tentacle pushed back inside her. The tendrils around her ankles and wrists tightened themselves, holding her steady as the tentacle started to plunge itself faster and deeper into her, twitching every so often, a sign it was getting ready to squirt into her womb.

Seonghwa was also enjoying the spectacle, watching closely as he was about to impregnate his darling surrogate, the tentacle wrapped around the shaft matching the movement the larger one was doing. He felt blessed to be able to feel both sensations at once, one being his cock stimulated while his tentacle had to endure Y/N's tightness clench unbearably around his slimy member. It was ecstasy for both of them, their grunts and moans echoing inside Seonghwa's room. Wanting her to experience the maximum pleasure he could offer, the tentacles laid out across her chest went back to their previous task of playing with her nipples, suckling on her tender flesh whilst the one between her legs toyed with her swollen clit. It was all so much for her that Y/N couldn't help it as her third orgasm of the night overtook her, this one more intense and prolonged by the endless amount of attention her body was receiving.

"Seonghwa!" She cried out, tears of over-stimulation brimming at the corners of her eyes.

Hearing her call out to him, Seonghwa himself hissed as the tentacle worked him over the edge, spurts of cum trickling down onto it as well as splattering onto the floor. The tentacle that was now coated with his cum moved towards Y/N's face, lightly tapping on her cheek. Turning to face it, she inhaled sharply and didn't hesitate to allow it to slide past her lips and wiggle inside her mouth. She moaned around the appendage, sucking on it, the sensations flowing back to Seonghwa's cock.

"Oh fuck." He exclaimed, the tentacle pushing itself on the back of her throat while the one between her legs rapidly moved to finish its final task.

Y/N's wailing was partially muffled by the tentacle stuffing her mouth, her body and mind spiraling out of control as she felt thick ropes of warm cum being gushed out of the tentacle and shooting straight into her womb. She could even feel her stomach swelling up even more by just the liquids being poured into her. It was enough to have her crying out once more, a state of euphoria clouding her mind as her 4th high shocked her senses, numbing everything except the feeling of the tentacles around and in her. Seonghwa himself didn't need further stimulation, cumming untouched for the second time when he finally finished breeding her, mouth drawing out long and labored breaths as he started to come down from his high.

Slowly, one by one the tentacles started pulling away from Y/N's body, disappearing back into Seonghwa's body. Both of them groaned deeply when the last tentacle pulled out of her agape hole, some of the leftover cum dribbling out onto the bed. Y/N felt so sore and so full, her hands reaching down to caress her now swollen stomach, surprised at how big it looked. She felt ready to pop at any moment. With utmost care, Seonghwa moved her further into the bed, helping her rest her head against one of the pillows and covering her up with the warm blanket. It wasn't long until she felt his body press up against hers, pulling her as close as was possible as one hand protectively wrapped around her belly.

"Thank you..."

She was so weary after that intense session that she could only mumble a barely audible 'huh?' at his words. Chuckling, Seonghwa pressed a kiss against her cheek.

"Thank you for carrying my babies. You have no idea how happy I am at this moment."

She could only manage to give out a faint smile at his words, fastly falling asleep when she felt him hum a soft tune against her ear.

"I'm so glad I chose you."

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @yunhofingers @deja-vux @brie02 @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters @rainteez02 @harry-the-pottypus

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kuroopaisen · 3 years

Text

impulse | fushiguro megumi

➵ megumi can't hold it in anymore. gn!reader. 1.4k

Megumi’s tense. He always is, around you.

Although, he usually doesn’t feel like his heart is about to hammer its way out of his chest at any given moment. No, that’s reserved for when you’re touching him.

And you’re doing just that, sat together in the alarmingly muggy infirmary as you tend to his wounds.

He’d be the first to admit that he could’ve left his last fight in better shape, but that isn’t quite how things played out. It’s a rather diverse set of injuries – some cuts on his forehead, a small gash along his chin, scratches on his knuckles, his palms, and his fingers… Typical fare.

He’d managed to clean his face before you’d come bursting into the infirmary, eyes ablaze with worry and rebuke. But you’d spared him the lecture, far too worried about the general state of him than anything else.

It’s late afternoon, and Megumi knows you should be relaxing by now. You deserve it. Instead you’re here, with him, playing nurse. The sun sets outside the window, bathing you in unfairly flattering golden light. It makes you hard to look at.

But if you notice Megumi’s apprehension, you say nothing. You’re too focused on his hands.

“You need to stop being so reckless,” you murmur, fingers brushing against his as you finish bandaging his knuckles.

Megumi grimaces. He’s not sure how, but you always seem to know when he’s been injured. Even if he’s making an active effort to keep it a secret from you – in a misguided attempt on his part to spare you the anxiety – you always find him.

And every time he tries to play his injuries off, every time he tries to tell you that he’s fine, really, it’s worse than it looks, you just glare at him with those aggravatingly expressive eyes of yours, your anger thinly veiling your heavy worry.

Today, however, his injuries don’t look too bad compared to the usual. Regardless, you worry. It makes him feel so… so…

He sighs heavily, too exhausted to even begin untangling the thoughts burning in his brain.

Your eyes are bright as you smile at him with a hint of mischief. “About to start brooding, hm?”

“No,” he grumbles.

You chuckle, your entire face lighting up with a smile. Megumi swears his heart constricts.

He doesn’t want you to worry. Every time you look at him with those sad eyes, asking him ‘what happened’, he can’t help but feel like a piece of shit. You shouldn’t be spending your time worrying about him. He doesn’t even know why you do.

“There you go,” you sigh, holding his hand with both of yours as you inspect your handiwork. Your hands feel so soft against his fingertips, warm yet not overwhelming. The thought of them obscures anything more logical.

“Thank you,” Megumi swallows, drawing his hand out of yours a little too hastily. He turns his hand over to admire your work. As usual, you’ve done an excellent job at wrapping his wounds. Firm, but not so tight it’ll disrupt blood flow.

“You don’t have to do this,” he sighs, flexing his fingers. They’re still a bit stiff, but they’re better than they were a couple of hours ago.

“I know,” you hum nonchalantly, tilting your head at him. “You need to stop saying that.”

Megumi resists the urge to flare his nostrils like a bull in some matador show. He feels like you’re always doing this for him; he’s not as reckless as Itadori, but he knows he’s still too blasé for your liking.

But that’s just how you are.

Soft. Gentle. Too kind for your own good.

Certainly not cut out for this world of violence.

Megumi’s eyes darken at the thought. He can’t help but wonder if it weren’t for him, for Itadori, for Kugisaki, then maybe you’d walk away. Maybe you’d be free from this grim waking nightmare. Maybe you could live as a normal teenager, worried about average adolescent things and crying over inane little dramas.

No fighting. No suffering. No death. That’s the life you deserve.

“Hey,” you murmur, eyes downcast as you fiddle with the hem of your jacket. “I… I don’t want to make assumptions or anything, but… if you’re worried about being a burden, you’re not.”

Megumi’s breath catches in his throat and his eyes widen.

“I-I mean, burden might be the wrong word, but…” You bumble, gaze firmly affixed to your own lap. “I just mean that sometimes you… you seem to feel… guilty, and I don’t want you to.”

Megumi swallows roughly, unable to take his eyes off your face. You look so… reticent. Like you’re afraid of saying something you’ll regret. How can he say that he doesn’t want you to be careful?

“I…” You break the tension with a sound almost no louder than a whisper. “I care about you,” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs in your lap.

It’s not unusual for you to get Megumi’s heart racing. Sometimes a smile from you is enough to make his pulse quicken.

You’re cute, yes, but Megumi knows it runs a little deeper than that.

And sometimes – just sometimes – he lets himself hope. In moments like this, where you can’t quite seem to look at him, voice quiet and eyes sparkling, looking so innocent and earnest.

He doesn’t know what to say. What to do. He wants to say it back – he certainly cares about you, too. More than he’s comfortable admitting.

But he can’t just leave you hanging like this, letting your quiet little confession melt into the wooden walls of the infirmary.

You swallow awkwardly, fumbling around with your equipment. “Let’s do your forehead.”

He’s struck breathless as you lean in, fingers brushing against his forehead lightly as you inspect the damage. You’re close – alarmingly close, so close he can feel your breath against his nose, so close he can smell the faint sweet scent of your shampoo – and Megumi can’t take it anymore.

Fuck it, he thinks.

A large, bandaged hand cups your cheek and the next thing you know is that his lips are on yours, warm and soft and insistent.

You let out a quiet gasp and Megumi worries he made the wrong move.

But you lean into him, placing a hand on his knee to stabilise yourself. Your lips are so soft. Somehow softer than he’d imagined. There’s the faintest taste of your vanilla lip balm; that, perhaps, is what makes Megumi realise this is real. This is happening.

He’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back. Neither of you know what you’re doing, fumbling awkwardly through it, but Megumi doesn’t care. He’s so lightheaded that he’s dizzy, and he’s forgotten how to breathe (and he doesn’t even know if he wants to).

But if he doesn’t breathe he’ll pass out, and that’ll just make you fret.

He pulls back reluctantly, his breath ghosting your lips as his face lingers close to yours for a second longer.

“Was that… too much?” He swallows, eyes more intense than usual as he finds the courage to meet your startled gaze.

Your own eyes are wide, but they’re sparkling. It’s a look Megumi knows well – one he’s silently vowed to protect. You’re happy. No, that’s too plain of a word. You’re… joyful. Thrilled. Something of that ilk.

“No,” you smile, shaking your head ever so slightly, “I… I liked it.”

Such a simple sentence, yet such an avalanche of emotion within them. He may not be the best at reading people, but even Megumi can glean what you really mean.

Megumi considers, for a moment, that this might be a dream. That there’s no way he’d kiss you on impulse and that you’d kiss back, and that you’d like it. That you’d tell him you like it. That you’d smile like this.

But he feels alive. And it’s the first time in a while that he realises he doesn’t need to be in the thick of battle to feel this way.

“We…” He swallows once more, brows drawn together as he searches desperately for the courage to continue on. “We could… keep doing it. If you’d like.”

It’s such a stupid question, so teenage, and yet you respond with such earnest sincerity that Megumi’s heart aches.

Your entire face lights up, and perhaps it’s the most humbling thing that’s happened to him today.

Once again, your words are simple, but strong enough to move a tsunami. “I’d like that.”

#megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #fushiguro x y/n #i've been here so long and i still don't know how to navigate tags #anyway if you're reading this thank meg #she mentioned megumi brainrot and i was like you know what yeah #so i finally finished this #i'm in Pain and it's all my fault

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norahastuff · 4 years

Note

penny for your thoughts on salmondean codependency ?

Sure. Fair warning it’s long (was longer but I stopped myself.)

I think it’s complicated in a show that’s had so many different showrunners because they’ve all handled Sam and Dean’s relationship very differently. In Kripke’s era (s1-5) there was a romanticization of the bond. Sure there was a lot of in-depth exploration of how they wound up at the place they were at, spoiler alert: it was all because of John and his obsessive crusade to find the demon that killed his wife. That’s all he cared about and as a result, Sam and Dean had to be everything to each other. But Kripke had no intention of dismantling that at any point because he was (and always had been) writing a tragedy. Gamble continued that too. There was no room for anyone else in their lives and it would always just be the two of them against the world. So Cas had to go. Bobby had to go.

(Actually, it's funny because Gamble didn't intend this at the time, her plan was to kill Cas off, but by Edlund creating the masterpiece that is The Man Who Would Be King, he not only saved Cas from being seen as a villain, but he also deepened Dean and Cas' relationship in such a profound way and inextricably linked the two of them emotionally. And since Cas was eventually brought back, that laid the foundation for a lot of what their relationship would become.)

Up until this point, there hadn’t really been any significant dismantling of perhaps the more unhealthy parts of Sam and Dean’s relationship. Enter Carver. He stripped things down and started to explore what drove these characters. What they wanted and why they couldn’t have it. It starts with Dean being mad at Sam for not looking for him in purgatory, which sets up the whole speech in the s8 finale of Sam’s guilt about letting Dean down, but the thing is, Dean was never honest with Sam about his year away either. He never told Sam he could have gotten out much sooner if he hadn’t stayed to find Cas. I mean Dean had assumed Sam was up there alone doing God knows what to try to bring him back, and yet still he stayed in Purgatory because things were clear there. He needed Cas. Anyway, I just find that interesting, but Cas isn’t a victim of Sam and Dean’s relationship in s8.

Who gets the honour of being cast aside? That would be Benny and Amelia, two characters they introduced in s8 specifically to highlight that Sam and Dean’s relationship doesn’t allow for anyone else to be a significant part of their life. I mean that’s nothing new, we’ve watched that happen many times before. Lisa even said as much to Dean. The thing is this time? It’s framed as a truly sad thing. That moment at the end of 8x10 when Dean has just ended things with Benny and Sam leaves Amelia, and they’re sitting alone drinking beer and watching tv is such a hollow empty moment. This is not what they want. But it’s the way things have to be.

I’m actually fascinated by Sam and Dean’s conversation in the church in the s8 finale. Not so much Dean’s assertion that there is no one else he would put before Sam, but more so what provokes it, which is Sam saying “who are you going to turn to instead of me. Another angel? Another vampire?” See the thing is Dean saying he would always put Sam first is not news. We know this and it’s not really an unhealthy statement in itself either. A lot of people would put their sibling above anything else, not less a sibling who you raised and is the most important person to you. But in this context? After what Sam said? It just highlights how unhealthy they are if Sam believes that Dean having other people in his life means he doesn’t love him enough. That he’s a disappointment to him. That’s so profoundly fucked up.

(Note, Dean tells Sam that he killed Benny for him but he doesn’t say anything about Cas. I think like I said before, this is because Cas and Dean’s relationship has largely existed out of the Sam and Dean stuff up to this point - Sam and Cas don’t even really have much of a relationship yet besides both of their connections to Dean.)

And then from here, things start getting steadily worse. But we also keep being shown how bad they are. Dean lying to Sam, taking away his free will by letting Gadreel possess him. Dean sending Cas away, Kevin dying. It’s all awful. The whole “there ain’t no me if there ain’t no you line” from 9x01 isn’t really said by Dean, it’s Gadreel, but that is how Dean feels. He does think that’s all he’s good for. And over the season we’re shown how much of himself and what he truly wants he’s had to give up because of his ingrained “Save Sammy” and “Sammy comes first” mentality. It’s always been this way for him. In 9x07 we see that he had found a happy home, a good father figure, and his first love, a first love might I add that he had to leave behind with no real explanation because Sam needed him, and Sam comes first.

I mean just one episode earlier we had him rushing out the door elated about seeing Cas and spending time with him, only for their time together to come to sad and melancholic end when Dean once again leaves Cas behind without any real explanation, because despite what he wants Sammy comes first. What he wants doesn’t matter.

See I think after the Gadreel stuff comes out is where the narrative starts to get a little wonky for me. You can clearly see that this was intended to be a shorter story that they ended up stretching out to a much longer one because of renewals. There’s also the fact that this is a formula show so they can’t necessarily be separated for longer than an episode or two. S10 is a rough one to get through at times, I think the themes still mostly hold up but it’s a rough one to get through.

S10 highlights all the connections that Dean has, Cas, Charlie, Crowley even, but Sam doesn’t really have those bonds in the same way. For Sam it’s just Dean, so he goes down a reckless destructive “do anything to save Dean!” path and so many innocents pay the price, and ultimately with the release of The Darkness, the whole world.

They skirted right up to the edge of exploring just how toxic and dangerous their relationship had become in the season 10 finale.

DEAN: I let Rudy die. How was that not evil? I know what I am, Sam. But who were you when you drove that man to sell his soul... Or when you bullied Charlie into getting herself killed? And to what end? A..a good end? A just end? To remove the Mark no matter what the consequences? Sam, how is that not evil? I have this thing on my arm, and you're willing to let the Darkness into the world.

I can’t say evil is the right word, they were never evil, but they were wilfully blind to everything and everyone else when it came to saving each other. S10 tested my love for the show because after watching it, because there was certainly a feeling that the two of them had become the villains of this story. And don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have a problem with that, it’s just after 2 seasons of this I can’t say I had a lot of faith that this was going to be properly addressed or if we were going to keep going in circles around it. Keep being shown, it’s bad and then nothing much being done to fix it. Your mileage may vary on how it was handled, but I think s11 did a relatively ok job considering it wasn’t the end of the story, and the show needed to keep going.

See from Dean’s side a lot of the codependency rests on 1. His father’s orders to always save Sammy 2. His low self-esteem where he sees himself as nothing but a blunt instrument. 3. His guilt at not being able to perfectly fulfil every familial role in Sam’s life 4. His belief that no one could choose to love him but family has to love you. 5. The unhealthy example of what it should look like to love someone that he got from John. You give up everything but them.

For Sam (and honestly it’s not as clear for me as Dean’s side is so feel free to correct me/disagree on this) 1. Everytime he’s tried to leave and create his own life it’s never ended well. 2. His guilt over wanting freedom and a normal life when he was younger (I’m referring specifically to Stanford era here) 3. His guilt over everything Dean has given up for him. 4. John. 5. Jess.

Ultimately it all comes down to isolation. They both had to be everything to each other, and the deeper they got into this fight, the more people that they lost, the tighter they clung to this notion of family and brothers. I think s11 (and 11x23 in particular) was an important turning point, both for Sam and Dean’s relationship, as well as for them as individuals. Because they weren’t alone there anymore. Cas was there. Sam let Dean walk to his death. Of course, it would devastate him, but he knew it was what had to be done. And he didn’t walk out of that bar and go back to the bunker alone. He had Cas, he had someone who cared about him and wanted to help him and talk to him. Sure Dean asked Cas to take care of Sam for him (you know after Cas offered to walk to his death with him) but Sam let him. He let him be there for him. We didn’t get to see much before the BMOL showed up and blasted Cas away, but still, we saw enough.

I think that’s a significant difference to note why their relationship was different in the Dabb era. It wasn’t just them anymore. Cas was an important member of their family and given a level of importance he’d never been given before and couldn’t have been when the story they were telling was of the dangers of their codependency. Mary was back. Eventually, Jack would become a part of their unit too. Just the two of them wasn’t enough for them anymore. This is made abundantly clear with all of Dean’s desperate attempts to get Cas to stay in s12, followed by his inability to keep going when they lose Cas and Mary in s13. Similarly, Sam really struggles when they lose Jack and fail to get Mary back later in the season.

Another big moment is Dean letting Sam go alone to lead the hunters against the BMOL in 12x22 while he stays back to try and reach Mary. Like he tells Mary, he’s had to be a brother, a father and a mother to Sam and he never stopped seeing him as his kid, but in that moment he makes a choice. He lets Sam take charge and he shows that he trusts him and believes in him. He knows he can handle it.

Sometimes it’s not even a character growth thing. Sometimes having other people there stops you from making destructive choices even though that’s still your first instinct. I’m thinking specifically of 13x21 after Sam was killed. Dean would have run headlong into that nest of vampires and got himself torn apart, but Cas was there to stop him. He was able to make him see reason.

Basically, I think that for a long time, they thought the only relationship they could have was each other, which then became a self-fulfilling prophecy because their desperate attempts to keep each other around led to them losing the people around them. They eventually started to learn that that wasn’t true, they could have more, they were allowed to want more, and that it wasn’t an either-or situation. Dean didn’t have to choose between Sam and Cas. They didn’t have to choose between each other or Jack. The same goes for Mary. Different relationships can coexist without threatening each other, and not say that their relationship in s12-15 was all smooth sailing, but it was certainly so very different from everything that came before.

(There’s maybe a point to be made about how they didn’t have anyone or anything in the finale and how that relates to the story we got, but honestly I have no idea what the intention was with any of the choices made in that episode so I’ll leave it at that for now.)

#asks #winchester brothers #my spn thoughts #long post for ts #Anonymous #spn meta

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knickynoo · 2 years

Note

Marty McFly and Ferris Bueller meet and become friends.

Just how much trouble is society in, at that new blossoming friendship? And who is more likely to steal the DeLorean: Ferris, so he can skip school, or Cameron, so he can keep his dad’s Ferrari from being destroyed?

Hooo boy! What a question. Society is...in quite the pickle. I actually do have a few thoughts on this concept though, because my mind kind of goes in different directions when imagining a friendship between these two.

On the one hand, Marty and Ferris could make quite the troublesome pair given their rather extreme personalities. They're both all emotion, but sort of in different ways? Marty is very driven by his emotions in the sense that everything he feels is very BIG and all-or-nothing. He's either Very Happy or Very Afraid or Very Angry, and he especially seems to be in tune to and affected by the emotions of those around him. He will drop what he's doing and ignore his own feelings at the drop of a hat if somebody he cares about is in danger or needs his help.

Ferris is also very emotionally driven but like. In a "the more risks, the better", you only live once, high-on-life sort of way. He's the guy who springs out of bed in the morning with a smile on his face and goes, "Hmm, today I think I will go to the zoo, jump into the enclosure, and challenge the tigers to a race. Just for funsies." Ferris wants non-stop thrills in life. He wants to sweet-talk and manipulate as many adults and peers as he conceivably can. He wants to stare into the face of death and laugh. He is charming and calculated and fearless and sometimes comes across as bordering on psychopathic.

It is very likely that sticking Marty and Ferris together would result in Unbounded Shenanigans. They could run all over town, having wild, reckless fun. BUT! There is a part of me that genuinely believes Marty would want no part in Ferris's world or at the very least serve as the voice of reason of the two of them and keep Ferris in check. Primarily because, while Marty is very rambunctious and impulsive, he's also sensitive and introspective and anxious. I think his common sense would kick into gear when around Ferris and lead him to be like, "Um, this is a really dangerous/stupid/possibly illegal idea." Especially post-trilogy Marty who has been changed and made wiser from his travels. OH! And Marty is also shown to feel guilt very strongly (frequently apologizing to Doc for messing things up and claiming that things are all his fault), so I don't think he'd be too into any schemes or adventures that would involve deception or trickery. And if he did end up partaking, he would be wracked with guilt and probably personally apologize to every person he so much as mildly inconvenienced with his tomfoolery. If Marty is going to purposely lie or manipulate people, it's because his life/the life of someone he loves/ the space-time continuum is at risk.

Now, this isn't me trying to paint Ferris in a bad light or anything. He is funny and smooth and loves life, which helps to balance out the "huh, this kid is a brat" factor. I don't think he wants to intentionally drag his friends or innocent people into situations that can hurt them or end badly, but. Well, I think it's fair to say that Ferris is pretty self-centered. That his main focus is probably just what he wants and what he thinks is best/most fun, and repercussions are an afterthought? (not that Ferris faces any personal repercussions lol) Ferris has been spoiled and coddled so intensely by his parents that it's no wonder he's Like That. But you can't help but like the guy! He flashes a smile and you're like, "Okay, Ferris, here is my credit card and the keys to my house and car."

I digress. (I didn't know I had this many feelings about Ferris Bueller haha) I guess my final thoughts on the matter are: that if Marty lets his guard down enough, he could absolutely be roped into some Ferris Bueller Escapades, but he's nowhere near Ferris's level of...whatever it is you'd call the level that kid is on, so Marty would probably be the voice of reason more often than not. Which is a funny thing to imagine when you know what Marty is like, lol. But I think that only emphasizes how Out There and Intense Ferris is.

As for your second question, Ferris would totally be the one to steal the DeLorean and run willy-nilly through time, doing whatever he wants with approximately zero (0) thought as to how his actions may drastically alter the course of history or cause irreparable damage to time and space.

Thanks for the ask!

#asks #back to the future #bttf #marty mcfly #ferris bueller's day off #ferris bueller #i am...kind of surprised by my criticisms of Ferris?#I've seen the movie a hundred times and considered it my favorite for several years and wanted a friend like Ferris #but in actuality I guess I would be like ''I just want to live my quiet life and not get into trouble. Get away from me.''#hmm is this what Growing Up is like??#anyway have y'all ever seen the thousand posts and articles outlining how well Ferris fits the profile for a psychopath?#or at the very least is a raging narcissist??#but again: you can't help but root for the guy!#sure he fakes a terminal illness just to get out of school & hacks a computer system #& commits grand theft auto and false impersonation #But he just wants to have fun!! Look at him dancing up there on that parade float!

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looooooooomis · 4 years

Text

F I N A L G I R L | F O U R

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t f o u r | k e y s

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.4k warnings: angst, s m u t, some more s m u t, teasing, finger-licking good billy boy, implied/referenced cheating, def not a healthy, functioning relationship (but like eh we persevere), some more s m u t.

Despite your best efforts, the last few days had been miserable without Billy.

You hadn’t realized just how much of a routine he’d become over the last seven months, how much you’d both come to rely on each other and, fuck, did you miss him. You missed his smell, you missed that small little cheeky grin of his, you missed curling up beside him and feeling him over every inch of your skin. Your body craved for him in an almost primal way but, while you could live with denying your body its needs, it was your heart that hurt the most.

What was supposed to be a quick release for the two of you had never been that easy. You’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year, seen him through his various ups and downs and he’d seen yours, too. Which was precisely what made this entire situation that much harder. Not only were you dealing with your own heartache, but you were witnessing his, too.

Billy’s grief was more or less a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of thing. Ever the stoic silent type, you hadn’t expected to see much of what he was feeling splayed out on that handsome face of his, but shocking even you, his regret was palpable. And each and every time those brown eyes met yours, that grief that was as clear as day struck you blind.

You’d tried telling yourself that it was for the best because, in all honesty, it was but that didn’t make the pain go away. Nor did it make you miss him any less. You were trapped in a vicious cycle of missing Billy, sticking to your guns, and worrying about him all at once.

God, you’d really fucked up with this one.

“You sure you’re okay?” Tatum asked, narrowing her eyes at you as you shoved a handful of books into your locker. “You’ve been scatterbrained all week.”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me,” she leaned her hip against the locker. “Is this about Steve?”

You blinked as the question played on loop in your head. “Steve?” You asked, giving the strawberry blonde your full attention. “First of all, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart: ew. Secondly, huh?”

Tatum smirked. “Don’t play dumb, you’ve been acting all weird since Billy went psycho on his ass last week.”

“No, I haven’t,” you hoped your laugh didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Also, Steve’s an asshole. If the day ever comes when I am interested in that big oaf, feel free to euthanize me.”

“Promise,” she made a motion of crossing her heart, “but in the meantime, you swear nothing is up?”

“Cross my heart,” you mimicked the gesture and shut your locker. “What are you up to after practice tonight? Want to go see that new Brad Pitt movie?”

Her shoulders fell. “Can’t, Stu’s coming over,” she unwrapped a lollipop and shoved it in her mouth. “I’d say ask Sid, but she got into it with Billy last night so she’s in a mood.”

You tried not to care, you really did, but her words hit you like a freight train. “They did?” You asked, hoping beyond hope that your voice didn’t sound quite as high pitched as it sounded in your head. “What happened?”

“Who knows,” Tatum shrugged, “Billy’s always been a little intense and Sid’s been a little cagey since…well, you know – so, it’s bound to happen.”

You swallowed hard and continued to nod along to Tatum’s words. Were you nodding too frequently? Did you appear too interested all of the sudden? Catching yourself, you focused on the leftover gum on the locker just behind your friend’s head and cleared your throat. “That’s shitty.”

“Relationships,” Tatum waved off, “they’re all pretty shitty sometimes.”

Before you could finish putting your foot in your mouth any further, the third bell rang out signaling your next class. Your most dreaded class: Biology. With a groan you tossed your bag over your shoulder and frowned across at Tatum. “See you at practice?”

With a nod, Tatum took off towards her class as you slowly sauntered towards your own. You were halfway down the hall when you heard a set of heavy footfalls running towards you from behind. Glancing over your shoulder, you barely had time to register Stu’s smiling face before he threw an arm around your shoulders. “How ya doing, pal?”

“Peachy,” you scraped your eyes along his profile and blinked. “If you’re about to play the rule of dutiful henchman for you know who, I’ve got a class to flunk.”

“Harsh,” Stu beamed, “I see why our boy’s so smitten.”

With a roll of your eyes, you glanced around at the people around you and glowered up at him. “Stu,” you warned, “I’m not in the mood for this.”

“For what?” He feigned innocence. “I haven’t said a word.”

“But you want to,” you mused. “And I don’t want to hear it.”

Stu chuckled. “All I was going to say is, like, I get it.”

You shouldn’t have taken his bait. What you should have done was push him off of you and continue on your merry way to class. That would have been the smart thing to do, the responsible thing to do.

Too bad you were neither of those two things.

Roped in, you sighed in defeat. “Get what?”

“I’ll be the first to admit,” he began, “when Bill told me that you and him were…you know, I laughed. I mean, two broads, man? I can barely handle the one how’s he going to deal with two of you?”

“I’m hoping there’s a point coming,” you groused.

“Right,” he laughed again, “my point is that I get it. I get why you two work. Why he’s knee deep in this big fucking mess because of it. You two work.”

“Stu,” you threw your head back and glared at the ceiling. “Stop.”

“What?” He asked. “Am I wrong?”

You gently pushed him away from you and dropped your voice into a whisper. “That’s not the point. He’s with Sid.”

“So?” Stu made a face. “Her mom just died, what do you want him to do? Dump her and break her heart? Her mom just died, that’d callous, man.”

“We’re breaking her heart either way, whether she knows it or not.”

Stu stopped walking and there was a compassion in his stare that left you reeling. For as long as you’d known him, Stu Macher had always been the goof. The reckless, chaotic idiot that seemed to fit just perfectly into your little mish mash of a group. But the sincerity in his blue eyes as the two of you stood in the emptying hallway was a look you’d never seen before.

“And by doing this, you’re breaking yours.” He limply shrugged. “Billy’s, too.”

Your shoulders fell as the weight of Stu’s words sank in. You couldn’t exactly say much in terms of a rebuttal, naturally, because he was right. There were no happy endings for either of you at this point in the charade. Sid had still been lied to and cheated on, Billy was still trapped in a relationship he no longer wished to be in in fear of hurting the girl he once loved and you were stuck in the middle, watching two people you cared for fall to bits while having to remain stoic in fear of showing your hand.

What a fucking mess.

After another minute of silence, Stu wriggled his eyebrows and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “Just something to think about.”

Taking off down the hall, Stu left you to your own devices as you stood in the middle of an empty hallway with far too much on your mind. In an almost zombie-like trance, you took off in the direction of your biology class, not quite caring that you were about to be marked as tardy for the third time that week. But, before you got to that god-forsaken class, you heard the click of a door not far off before a pair of arms encircled around your middle, yanking you into the nearest classroom. A surprise yelp tore out of your mouth, but the full-fledged scream died in your throat as soon as you realized just who it was who had grabbed you.

“Jesus, Billy, you scared the hell out of me.” You grasped your chest and took in the dark, empty classroom around you. He was still holding you against the nearest wall, you could feel the heat of those large hands through your thin shirt. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Sorry,” despite the desperation in those brown eyes, his voice never wavered. It was still as calm and collected as ever. “I’d go to your house, but it’s been like Fort Knox for the last week or so.”

You chewed on your lip for a moment before averting your eyes to the ground, not quite being able to stomach the weight of his stare just yet. “Billy, unless anything’s changed, I—”

“In case anything’s changed?” He reiterated with raised brows. “Everything’s changed. I miss you, Y/N, more than you can even comprehend. I know I’ve fucked up, I know that, but I need you. The last nine days without being able to really see you or feel you or kiss you or—”

“I get it,” you held your hands up and gently pushed him away. “And it’s been hard on me, too, Billy. But it doesn’t change anything.”

For a few, long, agonizing moments, Billy remained still as a thousand different emotions splayed out across his face. There was anger and grief, sadness and desperation. But the look you got as he dropped to his knees in front of you was pure, unadulterated fear. “I promise you, Y/N, the second I can, when the time is right, Sid and I will be no more. But me and you are it, sweetheart,” his hands gently circled around your hips before embracing you around your middle. “I’m so fucking sorry that this is how it has to be right now. And I’m sorry that I’m too fucking selfish to let this go, but I can’t. I need you. I need us. You’re everything good in my life and I know I need to start proving that to you.”

Still, you remained quiet. Your fingers itched to reach out and run your fingers through that slightly greasy, unruly mop of hair, but instead you kept them pinned down at your side as you considered his words. There was no doubt in your mind that he meant them, the desperation on his face said as much, but you had your reservations. Taking your silence in stride, however, Billy simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“Oh, jesus,” you grumbled, burying your head in your hands. “You better not be doing what I think you’re fucking doing.”

“Open the box, Y/N.”

“No,” you held your hands up. “Not if it’s…that.”

Billy sighed. The muscle in his cheek twitched. “It’s not a fucking engagement ring.”

Somewhat relieved, you continued to stare down at the box in slight disdain. “So, what is it?”

Billy sighed. “Fucking open it and you’ll see.”

“Buying the ‘other woman’ jewelry, Billy?” You shook your head. “You’re like a walking cliché at this point.”

“Shut-up and open the goddamn box.” Standing up to his full height, he continued to hold the box out towards you and breathed out a quiet laugh when you remained unwavering. “It’s not a fucking bomb, Y/N, open it.”

With a sigh, you snatched the box out of his hand and, rather unceremoniously, opened it up to reveal a key. Not a fancy skeleton key or a charm in the shape of a key but a regular, run of the mill house key. You blinked, mildly surprised. “Okay, I’ll give you a point for creativity with the box,” you pulled the key out and observed it. “But what is it?”

“It’s a key,” Billy said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“I see that,” a small smile pulled at your lips as you looked across at him. “What’s it for?”

“It’s a key to my parents’ cabin.”

If you were meant to understand the significance, the story was lost on you. Looking back down at the key, you surveyed its tiny ridges briefly before nodding. “And what’s that have to do with me?”

He took a step towards you and grabbed the hand still clutching onto the key. “My dad doesn’t go up there much ever since my mother left and I figure we could both use a place where we can just…be.” His raked his thumbnail along your knuckles. “No Sid, no anyone. Just you and me.”

You were trying to remain unfazed by the sentiment, to remain icy and cool to the man you were supposed to be pulling away from, but between the softness in those warm brown eyes and the weight of the key still clutched in your hand, you could feel your defenses waning. “You expect Sid to just not care that you’re disappearing up north every once in a while?”

“I’ll make it work,” he shrugged it off. “And, to be honest, I don’t care what she thinks.”

Your answer came in the form of a long, drawn out sigh. “Billy,” you began, but before you could dive into the rest of your speech, his large hands slid up your arms and neck to cradle your face.

Slowly, he backed you into a nearby desk and traced the apple of your cheek with his thumb. “We can sneak up there whenever we want. Spend a whole weekend up there, just the two of us. I can worship this fucking body of yours in every square inch of that cabin. I can go into town and hold your fucking hand in public. We can do whatever the hell it is we want to do up there, whenever we want, without worrying about any of our idiot friends seeing us.”

Your pulse quickened at the thought of being able to parade around like a normal couple in a town where not a single soul knew who you were. You swallowed, trying to steady your excitement with a dose of realism. “It’s still not fair to Sidney.”

“Fuck Sidney!” Billy’s voice echoed out around the vast, empty classroom, alarming you with just how angry he sounded. His chest heaved with a white-hot rage that you couldn’t fully comprehend, and his jaw was wound shut as his nostrils flared with each and every heavy, uneven breath he took. You swallowed hard and watched the man steady his nerves, unsure of your next move. You’d seen Billy angry before, but that level of emotion was definitely new.

You weren’t sure whether to be terrified or turned on by the sudden outburst.

But, just as quickly as it happened, Billy’s eyes slowly opened to reveal those molasses coloured eyes again. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he appeased. “But I can’t have her stand in the way of this. I won’t.”

You remained silent as you shimmied on top of the desk that had been poking into your ass for the last few seconds and tried not to focus on the way your body seemed to melt into Billy’s as he stepped in between your legs, still looking at you with all the intensity of the world.

“If we do this,” you found yourself muttering, “there’s going to be some ground rules.”

A sense of hope blossomed in Billy’s chest as he vigorously nodded his head. “Anything you want,” sliding his hands up the sides your stomach, he gently held your waist and gave it a small squeeze. “You name it.”

“When we go up to the aforementioned cabin, we go out.” You told him. “While I’m more than happy to blow you in the living room without worrying about your dad walking in, it would be nice to go on an actual fucking date.”

Billy nodded and, with his hands still on your waist, he tried not to focus on the thin cotton of your shirt bunching between his fingers as his thumb danced along your ribcage. There was so little between you in the empty classroom, barely any space as the two of you were practically nose to nose. And between that short little skirt you had on and your pert nipples beneath your thin tank top, it was enough to make his cock twitch inside of his pants. “Anything else?” He asked, his voice husky as he nudged his nose against yours.

“Yeah,” you ran your tongue along your now parched lips as you sat with Billy standing between your thighs, holding you in place as his thumb traced agonizingly close to your tit. Were you even breathing? It didn’t feel like it. You were wet, too, which made his inhumanly close proximity almost too much to bear. “Lock the fucking door this time.”

A roguish grin enveloped his features as he stepped out from between your legs. Crossing the threshold of the classroom in two seconds flat, Billy locked the door and made his way back to you with that same mischievous glimmer in his eye. His eyes were hungry and, as his hands shifted down to your ass, he tugged you even closer to the edge of the desk. Closer to him. With your legs still open and on either side of his hips, you just about died when your clit managed to rub against the zipper of his jeans.

A quiet, low moan tore out of your throat from the sensation.

“Anything else?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” your breathing was ragged as Billy’s slow, methodical fingers, trailed up the side of your stomach. He was being extraordinarily temperate and slow to further tease you but, despite knowing how risky this was, you were putty in his hands. “Touch me.”

His nose brushed against yours again as he shifted his hips just enough for the zipper of his jeans to rub against your clit again. The bastard knew what he was doing.

“This feel good?” He asked as his hips toiled into you again.

You were practically dry fucking against the desk, you could have been caught any second. But, fuck, when he pulled you in a little more and slowly gyrated his jean-clad pelvis against your clit again, you couldn’t care less. “Mhmm,” you hummed.

Slowly, Billy’s dept fingers slid up from your waist towards your breasts. Raking his thumb against the swollen bud, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the side of your neck.

He knew his jeans were rubbing against your clit and, as he looked down and saw the visible wet patch on your blue thong, he wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you and bury his face in between your legs. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.”

When his hand squeezed your breast, you arched into his grasp. “I bet you did.”

Billy smirked and rolled your nipples between his fingers through the fabric of your shirt. With every roll of your hips, the strap of your shirt slipped down just enough to expose your breast. Without missing a beat, Billy leaned into your chest and allowed his mouth to consume your nipple, swirling his tongue around it expertly before biting down. You hissed as a combination of both pain and pleasure ripped through your body.

Your fingers curled around the hair along the nape of his neck and gave it a firm tug as is hands held you firmly in place. “Fuck, Billy” you moaned, breathless.

He released your nipple slowly, nipping at it one final time before leaning his forehead against yours again. You wanted like hell to close the distance between you. You wanted to feel his lips on yours. Feel the tickle of his stubble along your upper lip and have that expert tongue brush against yours.

But you also wanted to make him sweat a little.

You weren’t sure what had come over you as you slid your hand down your torso. Maybe it was adrenaline of being caught or the relief of having Billy in your arms again but as you allowed your fingers to dip beneath the hem of your exposed thong, the look on Billy’s face made it all worth it.

“What are you doing?” His Adams apple bobbed up and down as he watched you touch yourself. You were in an awkward angle, but as your finger circled your clit and you watched the bulge in his pants grow, you were coasting high.

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” You hummed, feigning innocence. “When I say touch me, I mean it, Billy. I’m taking matters into my own hands.” You pinched your clit and arched your naked chest into him. “Fuck.”

You heard him swear under his breath as his lips ghosted over yours. “You’re doing my head in, woman,” he growled, sliding his fingers beneath your panties. You gasped when his thumb began to circle your clit. And when he slid two fingers inside of you, you nearly saw stars.

His mouth found yours, mid-moan. Reaching the hand that had just been down the waistband of your shorts, you ran your fingers through his hair as his tongue coaxed yours. Everything about this man was electric. His fingers quickened their pace and before you knew it, you were thrusting into his hand. Placing sloppy kisses down from your mouth and along your jaw, Billy nipped at your ear. “How’s this for touching you, sweetheart?” He hissed, licking and biting his way across your neck.

Your breathing was rampant as you felt yourself edging closer and closer. “It’s alright,” you teased with a cloudy grin.

“So stubborn,” he laughed into your neck and curled his fingers so that he hit an area inside you that felt almost primal. The moan he got in return made him bite down on your collarbone. He curled his fingers again and you nearly choked. “You sure?”

Pulling his hair, you steered his face back to yours and crashed your lips against his. “Fuck me.” You mumbled into his mouth.

He applied the smallest bit of pressure to your clit and flicked his fingers one final time, sending you over the cliff. With a long, shaky moan, you bucked your hips uncontrollably as you came into his hand. Every inch of you felt as though it was on fire as Billy made you ride out your orgasm, not for a second easing up on your clit as you writhed beneath him.

“Play with your tits,” he barked out through hooded eyes.

“You play with them,” you argued, but the resolve in your voice was gone. You weren’t entirely sure if you knew your name at that point. All you could focus on was the feeling of his finger pinching your highly sensitive clit and that was it. Everything else was a blur.

“God, you’re so fucking stubborn.”

You were so wet and so turned on you could barely think straight. “Billy,” you pleaded, your entire body heating up almost unbearably so. When he ignored you and instead continued his attack on your clit, you whimpered. “I need you to fuck me.”

With a bruising kiss, Billy released your clit and, in seconds flat, tugged his jeans far enough down his hips before slipping inside of you. The moan that escaped your lips was undeniable as he pumped into you. Reaching up, he grabbed your tit and squeezed as he bit down on your exposed neck. It was a sensory overload coming from all angles.

“Fuck,” Billy’s hoarse voice was in your ear as he pumped into you. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” He reached for your face and tilted your chin up towards him, meeting you halfway with a sloppy kiss. Moaning into his mouth, you managed lose yourself in that instance.

Gone was the room around you.

Hell, gone was everything up until this point.

All you could focus on was the feeling of Billy inside of you. Biting down on his lip, you tugged it back as he rolled his hips in a way that made you quiver. He was thrusting, hard, in an almost animalistic that made your entire body shake with the velocity of every desperate push. He moved between kissing your lips, to biting them to suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. He was a man, unhinged, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen him so sexy.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when his forehead dramatically fell against your own.

For a few minutes, neither of you moved, simply just remained still and firmly pressed against one another. But, as the weight of your current whereabouts slowly dawned on either of you, you both slowly pulled away from each other, both wearing a small smile as you re-dressed yourselves.

Once his pants were done up, Billy stepped into you once again and placed a kiss on your forehead. “Cabin this weekend, okay?”

You nodded and hopped down from the desk. “Yeah, maybe,” you teased, fixing your skirt.

Billy’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, maybe, eh?”

“Yeah,” you winked, “I’ll think about it.”

“Smart ass,” Billy smirked. “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

“I’m counting on it.” Once you were both fixed up, you nodded towards his hand which was still slicked with your juices. You laughed. “Oops.”

But Billy didn’t seem fazed. Instead, your breath hitched in your throat when he raised his hand to his lips and licked your slick clear off, relishing in the taste of it with a knowing smirk on his face. “This weekend.” He reiterated, driving the point home.

“This weekend,” you agreed, walking towards the door. Ensuring nobody saw the two of you leave an empty classroom together, you unlocked the door and gave Billy a small, knowing smile. “See you at lunch, lover boy.”

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destinygoldenstar · 2 years

Text

Can we give Mikey a hug?

Did Dhar Mann listen to NOBODY that said they did NOT like the dare video?

Welp! Do it with Mikey!

Have Jayden, the normally innocent character, ENSLAVE HIS BROTHER as a dare.

Basically, as fun, Mikey makes a bet with his brother to play with him. Whoever wins a Minecraft game gets to boss the other around for two days.

Okay, I did say Mikey needs a redemption arc.

Well, Jayden gets to boss Mikey around because he won.

First off, Mikey admits the iPad was no threat to him since he’s used to not having it. (Characterization points I guess) But Jayden takes it away anyway, ‘forever’.

This could have been meaningful for the two brothers to learn to understand each other, like Jayden bossing Mikey around to get him to be better in ‘his eyes’, only to learn that Mikey has boundaries and a free will that shouldn’t be taken away in order for him to become better.

But no, instead it turns into slavery. Jayden forces Mikey to make lunch, not talk to his friends, do all the homework ever, do all the chores, this and that.

And when confronted about it to his mom, and his friends, they just LAUGH.

They claim that Jayden putting Mikey in labor and silencing him is the BEST THING EVER.

I don’t remember the name of the other kid (not Jay) but Mikey seriously needs to stop being friends with him! And I thought Jay liked Mikey’s recklessness half the time! Derailment!

Yeah, when someone is banning someone else of free will, that’s a REDEMPTION. That means the person is getting better! That’s TOTALLY NOT AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP.

Here’s my advice: If you want to get better, you don’t rely on someone else to fix you. Not your siblings, not a friend, not a romantic interest. You don’t want to be in a relationship of any kind where the sole driving force is that they’re a fixer upper. They can’t fix you. The only person who can make you become better, is you yourself.

Now, it’s fine to give people advice for becoming better, but don’t take over their lives or their identities. That just makes the problem worse.

This is deemed as completely acceptable behavior on Jayden’s end, because Jayden taking over Mikey’s life is actually making Mikey BETTER.

He’s getting better grades, getting invested in school,

And this whole thing WOULD HAVE WORKED, IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE FACT THAT JAYDEN WAS FORCING HIM.

Imagine how impactful it would be if Mikey was beginning to do this stuff at his own will, at his own inspiration. That would be a good message that you can find pleasure in things you don’t like.

You can still have Jayden drive it, and give him advice, but the key focus should be on the fact that Mikey WANTS to be better.

But no, it’s from a bet.

So what’s stopping me from believing he’ll just go back to his mean state once the bet is over or Jayden turns his back around?

It’s not getting better if someone is painting better on you. That paint’s just gonna melt off.

Heck, Mikey actually gets mad at the situation!

This kid, Eddie, offers him an easy out on an exam, and Mikey keeps it a secret from Jayden because Jayden will tell him no.

See? It’s not helping.

And when Jayden is ordered to boss Mikey around at the dinner table, he gets mad! And the mom completely sides with Jayden!

Okay, I know it’s about vegetables in that scene, so it’s something he should eat, BUT she takes ZERO interest in her son’s anger of Jayden’s bossing around regardless.

“This is really nice. I wish you were like this all the time, Mikey.”

-PROCEEDS TO HANG OUT WITH THE YOUNGER BROTHER AND HAVE A GREAT TIME, BANNING YOUR OTHER KID FROM BEING WITH THEM, AS THOUGH THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT

Do I need to explain further that this is a bad parent?

I think I said my peace about it already.

Mikey isn’t getting better. He’s being FORCED into being better. It’s deemed as a good thing to have people force you to act like someone you’re not!

That is peer pressure! I literally just said this!

Not all peer pressure is bad. Eating veggies, doing homework, participating, that’s good peer pressure.

Demanding chores, refusing to let them talk to their friends, and forcing them to make you lunch, is NOT good peer pressure.

When someone does this to you, you need to put your foot down!

You need to say, “Hey Jayden! (Or whoever does this to you) I don’t appreciate you trying to make me into someone I’m not! Can you please try to understand me and treat me like an equal? Like an actual sibling?”

I’m just gonna list the dialogue in one scene to prove my point:

Mikey: “Guess I’ll just eat the ice cream”

Jayden: “Sorry, it’s time for us to study for the final!”

Mikey: “No! Give me that back!”

Jayden: “Was that a NO I heard you say?!”

This is something you’d hear from an abusive relationship.

Out of context, who would you say is being the abusive one here?

It sure doesn’t sound like Mikey!

But Jayden’s peer pressure makes Mikey snap and reveal the cheat sheet Eddie gave him. Jayden, because it’s Jayden, demands he doesn’t use that, but Mikey says “NO! I’M FED UP WITH YOU TREATING ME LIKE SOMETHING I’M NOT! AND YOU CAN’T FORCE ME!”

...

That’s deemed as WRONG of him to do.

Jayden is treated like he did nothing wrong and that he’s helping.

I do believe he’s helping, but he’s approaching it in a bad, harmful way. He needs to be called out.

BUT MIKEY LAUGHS EVILLY AT THE END OF HIS STATEMENT, THAT MEANS MIKEY’S IN THE WRONG BECAUSE MIKEY’S THE BAD KID!!

...somehow.

But then Jayden comes in at the last minute to boss him around again, and he saves Mikey from failing his education.

So because Mikey did what Jayden said, Mikey’s better!

Not because he did that on his own accord! Oh no no no!

You can’t change on your own!

You can’t learn to avoid negative peer pressure on your own!

(Also why does one exam make you graduate? That’s not how it works)

“Well, I guess you’re the smart one in the family after all.”

Yeah... no.

Here’s how I would’ve fixed the video:

Mikey and Jayden do the bet. Mikey loses and Jayden wins, meaning Jayden gets to boss him around.

It starts off fine, like Jayden telling Mikey to do his own laundry, eat vegetables, and do homework. Mikey’s a little unnerved at first, but he’s forced to oblige, and he learns that his brother’s advice can be helpful, like with the math question.

But then that concept goes into Jayden’s head, and he starts abusing his power, like demanding Mikey make him lunch, do all the chores, not talk to his friends, and all that unhealthy stuff. It makes Mikey rightfully upset and feel as though it’s unfair, and seeing his mom like this and hang out with Jayden laughing while Mikey’s banned from being around them, causes him to turn to Eddie for advice. Eddie states that who Mikey was before was perfect, and he learned a lot from him, therefore, he’ll cheat on the final.

Mikey’s friends don’t react the same way they do in the actual video. Though the other kid might, Jay’s actually more understanding towards Mikey’s feelings when he learns what’s going on. He tries to get Mikey to play basketball with him, but Mikey can’t because Jayden told him to do all kinds of other work.

Jay admits he misses the reckless Mikey sometimes, and that though some parts of his friend need fixing, Mikey himself has a say in what he can do. So Mikey decides to play basketball.

Jayden finds out and gets upset, and Mikey lashes out (no evil laugh though), expresses how his brother doesn’t try to understand him, and that he wants to feel free to be him. So he resigns from the bet and goes to Eddie for the cheat sheet on the final.

However, the rejection of Jayden’s bossing around actually helps Mikey much, as he finds a way to figure out the education through what he likes. (Note: Jayden notices it all) And Mikey ends up doing something worthwhile for his education without anyone telling him to. He changes at his own will.

He chooses not to cheat. At his own will.

And instead of jumping to the graduations, we SEE Mikey make this choice! We SEE him decide not to take out the cheat sheet, and study at his own accord.

THEN we go to graduation, and we fully have our faith that Mikey changed, instead of making that some plot twist for some reason

Jayden questions why Mikey didn’t cheat afterwards, and Mikey tells him that he can do some smart things if he actually puts his mind into it. Jayden apologizes for his bossiness from before, and offers to understand what Mikey needs to help him.

Then, at the last scene of the two playing Minecraft, Mikey doesn’t use a cheat code. Instead, we have Mikey showing his brother a trick he figured out, and Jayden listens and they succeed at their task in the game. SHOWING, not telling, that there’s such thing as good and bad peer pressure, and knowing what you should, and shouldn’t listen to can move forward to healthier relationships.

There! THAT’S how I would have written this video. It’s not good, but it’s better then a bad message and telling kids that people bossing you around is healthy and beneficial 100% of the time.

#Dhar Mann #Bad messages #Rewrite #peer pressure #children

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Dancing

Day 32 Post 1 by @honouraryweasley12

Title: Dancing Author/Artist: honouraryweasley12 Pairing: Ron/Hermione Prompt: Masquerade Ball/Special Event Rating: M Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Smut, Language

The knock on her office door interrupted Hermione's thoughts. She'd been hunched over for several hours since lunch, studying the tiny, almost illegible text of an ancient book about Centaurs.

"Come in!"

The door creaked open and Ginny strode into the small, cramped office, waving a piece of parchment. She tossed it onto the desk, covering the page. Hermione recognized it immediately.

"Just thought I'd pop in. Are you and Ron going to this thing next week?"

She had read the invite to the Ministry event the night before, amidst a flurry of complaints from Ron.

"Yes, it's mandatory."

"Did you see the date?"

"I know, the first of March. Ron was not thrilled that we'd have to postpone his birthday celebrations."

"I can imagine." Ginny smirked, before waggling her eyebrows. "Did you have anything special planned?"

"What we do in the privacy of our bedroom—"

"Who said anything about the bedroom?" Ginny asked innocently, trying to get a rise out of her friend.

Hermione wagged a warning finger. "I know you, Ginny Weasley." She frowned. "It would be nice to do something for him on the day; he was so disappointed."

"At least it's in a nice place," Ginny remarked, referring to the estate where the event was being held. "The food will be good—that alone should please my brother."

"That's true," Hermione remarked glumly. "I'm sure it'll be fine, but I know his birthday is important to him."

"What's the big deal? He's turning twenty-three. It's not exactly a milestone."

"I know, I know. He told me once that growing up, his birthday was the only day when he felt like he was the centre of attention, so I like to make an extra special effort."

Ginny nodded. "He's not wrong, I suppose."

Hermione rolled her head from side to side, a cracking sound from her stiff neck echoing around her office.

"Looks like he's not the only one who needs some pampering."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I'm used to it."

"You should do something nice for yourself. Even I know you're working yourself too hard."

"Like what?"

Ginny pondered for a moment, before bouncing up in her seat. "I have an idea."

Hermione looked at her wearily. "What is it?"

The redhead nodded toward the invitation on her desk. "Did you see the part about muggle clothing being encouraged? What are you planning on wearing?"

"I don't know. I guess a gown. Maybe the one I wore to Percy's wedding last fall."

"You always wear things my mother would approve of. You're still young! How about something fun and sexy?"

Hermione scoffed. "I've seen some of the things you wear, Ginny."

She raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with what I wear?"

"You show a lot of… skin. Which is completely fine, but you don't work with these people."

"C'mon, live a little. I know my brother would still be mad about you if you were wearing a potato sack, but just imagine his reaction if you wear something a bit different."

"I don't know…"

"I promise, I won't go too crazy. It's Ron's birthday after all, wouldn't he enjoy seeing you in something less… proper?"

Hermione sighed, her willpower slipping away. "Yes, he would."

"Harry and Ron will be away this weekend taking new recruits into the field, so it's the perfect opportunity to go shopping." Ginny stood up and grabbed her invitation, before making her way to the door. "I'll meet you at yours at noon on Saturday."

"I don't see how this is treating myself."

"We'll stop at a bookshop then." The determined look on her friend's face was enough for Hermione to throw her hands up in the air.

"Fine!"

"That's the spirit." Ginny flashed her a cheeky grin and closed the door behind her.

"Weasleys," Hermione muttered to herself, before returning to her book.

~*~

Hermione stepped out of the ornate fireplace, her magically-extended clutch in hand. Ginny followed closely behind her, the two stopping to admire the tastefully decorated ballroom of the old estate house.

The brunette witch glanced around, hoping to see the familiar red hair of her love bobbing above the crowd, but was unable to spot him. She glanced at the thin silver watch on her wrist, a gift from Ron when she graduated from Hogwarts.

Ginny thrust a flute of champagne into Hermione's hand. "Will you relax? They'll be here soon. You know they have their Friday evening briefing first. Harry told me they were going to shower and change at the Ministry, then come straight here."

"I'm just nervous, that's all," Hermione replied as she nodded hello to a member of the Wizengamot who passed by, before taking a gulp of the fizzy sweet drink.

"You look great! Ron is going to go mental when he sees you."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, referring to the outfit she'd purchased with Ginny's help before downing the rest of her glass.

The result of their shopping excursion was a shimmery silver cocktail dress that hugged her curves and stopped mid-thigh. The two thin straps holding up the garment revealed her uncovered back and shoulders. All of this was set off with a pair of black heels. Her normally bushy hair tumbled down in soft waves, aided by half-a-bottle of Sleekeazy's.

Ginny nodded. "Absolutely."

A slight murmur behind them signified the arrival of one Harry Potter, his presence causing the usual stir, even years after the end of the war. He shook a few hands as he made his way over to the two of them, kissing Ginny and giving a hug to his friend.

"Wow, you look great, Hermione! I heard all about the new outfit."

"Thank you, Harry." She glanced over his shoulders, searching. "Where's Ron?"

He chuckled. "He's on his way, should be here any second."

Hermione held her breath as she spotted ginger hair towering above the crowd. She put a hand in the air and waved him over.

Ron fought his way through the guests that were starting to amass, making a beeline in their direction. Just as he was about to reach them, Ginny winked at Hermione and jumped into his path, wrapping him up in a hug and drawing his attention.

"Happy birthday, Ron!"

He patted her on the back. "Thanks, Gin."

Before letting go of the embrace, she whispered. "The dress was my present."

"What dress?" he asked as she angled him toward Harry and Hermione.

Ron's jaw dropped as he took in the outfit Hermione was wearing. She blushed at his hungry gaze, as she herself gawked at how fit he looked in his suit.

"Hey, Ron."

Harry's greeting went completely unnoticed as Ron stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. He pulled her against him, his hand splayed across the bare skin of her back.

"You look fucking hot," he growled into her ear, causing her to shiver.

She ran her own hand up and down the back of his dark suit jacket, relishing how solid he felt. "So do you."

He teased her ear, hidden by her hair. "We'd better get on with it. The sooner we're done mingling, the sooner we can get out of here and… celebrate my birthday."

She nodded as he pulled away, her face flush. As he turned to speak to Harry, another server passed by and she grabbed drinks for the two of them, needing to calm herself down. His reaction had far exceeded her expectations.

She caught Ginny's eye, the look on her face clearing stating I told you so. Hermione shrugged and grinned, before passing Ron his glass.

The night went on as they moved from dignitary to dignitary. Every so often, she'd catch him staring down at her, his desire clear. She didn't shy away though, challenging his gaze and communicating her own wants.

The teasing went on as they mingled, her hand reaching up to play with the red locks at the back of his neck. Hermione knew Ron loved it when she did that, causing him to give her a subtle squeeze as he laughed at the joke of some minister she wasn't familiar with.

His arm had been around her waist the whole time, almost possessively. As the minister turned away, she shuddered as he ran his hand up and down her side, his feather light touch just grazing the side of her breast.

"Want to dance?"

She nodded and downed her drink, dropping the empty glass on a nearby table before he led them out to the dance floor. She smoothly slid her small clutch into his jacket pocket, before wrapping her arms around his neck.

His strong arms encircled her waist, his thumb teasing patterns across her skin. "Have I told you how much I like it when you wear stuff like this?"

Hermione grinned. "No, you haven't told me, at least not with words."

Ron smiled, his hungry look returning as one of his hands dipped lower, brushing her backside as they turned in slow circles—ignoring the music but enjoying the game. He closed the distance and pressed a kiss to her lips, dragging his teeth across her bottom lip, leaving her aching for more.

He buried his face her neck, inhaling her scent before whispering in her ear. "Want to find somewhere quiet?"

The combination of his hot breath, his arms around her, and the loosening of her inhibitions from the alcohol brought on a sense of recklessness. They had been dancing around it all night. He wanted her, and she wanted him just as much.

"Yes."

They stole away from the crowded ballroom, their hands clasped together as need drove them to find some privacy. They checked a few doors in the massive estate until they found a small parlour. Ron whipped out his wand and fired off protections.

Their lips crashed together in a matter of seconds, frantic with the desire that had been building up all evening. Ron lifted her up, mimicking their first kiss, and walked her to the far end of the room. He set her down and turned her around, breaking their heated kiss. Pinning her against a wall with his firm body, he pushed aside her hair, his mouth finding that spot on the back of her neck that he knew so well.

"Oh, yes!"

He continued downward, kissing and tasting her naked back, causing her to gasp, her ragged breathing the loudest sound in the room.

"You look so fucking sexy in this," he said, before sliding his hand up her thigh and underneath her dress.

"Yes, touch me. I want to feel your hands on me."

His large hand palmed her between her legs, causing her to moan even louder. "Fuck, I love that sound."

"More," she cried out, grinding against his fingers. She loved the feeling of him taking control and pleasuring her.

His other hand snaked up to the front of her dress, reaching for her covered breast. Having his amazing attention in two different places was sending shockwaves to her core.

She mewled as he increased the pressure, his actions becoming rougher and more primal. She loved it but wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel what she did to him.

"Are you hard for me?"

"Check for yourself," he grunted, letting go of her and turning her to face him.

He kissed her hard, his hands cupping her face as she stroked his obvious arousal through his tailored suit pants. He moaned in her mouth from the contact. She in turn threw her head back as he trailed his lips to her cheek, then down to her neck, sucking and biting. They were ravenous for each other.

Her hand flew into his hair, jerking at the ginger strands as she pleaded for more. "Ron, please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me, quickly!" she begged, her words brazen in the elegant room. Her hand went to his zipper and tugged it down, before slipping into the opening and wanking him forcefully.

"Shit, Hermione."

"Now, Ron, please! Take me from behind!"

In one quick motion, he spun her around again and pulled roughly at her hips. He bunched the dress around her waist, exposing her delectable bum. The smack of his hand across her arse cheek echoed, leaving a pink mark on her flesh and causing Hermione to groan and push herself toward him in overheated desperation.

"Yes, more!"

He slapped her other cheek this time, eliciting another strangled groan. Her wanton reactions were too much for him as he yanked aside her soaked knickers and guided himself into her.

She moaned loudly as he entered, her cries shrill as he filled her completely.

"Yes, feels so good!"

His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust slowly at first, his grunts increasing in time with his efforts.

"Fucking take it, Hermione."

She called over her shoulder, her fingers clawing at the wall in ecstasy. "Harder, Ron! I've wanted this all night! Wanted you all night!"

He continued his pace, his groans mingling with her own. Half-leaning against the wall now, she found her most sensitive spot and began rubbing furious circles, urgently needing to get off.

"Love it when you play with your yourself," he panted as he thrust into her. "You gonna come on my cock as I fuck you?"

She nodded, his raw dirty words and relentless pounding spurring her on. Her lips were pressed into a thin firm line as she felt herself reaching her peak, crying out his name. That was enough to set him off as well, as he throbbed and spilled inside of her, burying his face in her hair as he fought to catch his breath.

She sagged against the wall, his delicious weight pressing against her as her chest heaved. After a moment, she turned to face him, seeking out his lips as they shared a lazy kiss, the taste of alcohol prevalent. They broke apart, and as they stared at each other, Hermione couldn't help but flash him a big smile.

"Enjoyed that, did you?" His deep voice rumbled.

"Mmmm, very much so. I take it you liked the dress."

He grinned. "I think that's an understatement."

They quickly cleaned themselves up and got their clothing straightened out. The effects of the champagne were still working on Hermione as she leered at him in his suit and licked her lips.

"Shall we finish our rounds and then go home? It might be your birthday, but I have one big candle to blow."

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Happy fucking birthday to me."

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission

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the-last-kenobi · 3 years

Note

I adore your qui gon and obi wan stuff so can we get a number 8 on the prompt list with obi wan and qui gon?

Absolutely!! I’m so glad you chose that one; I’ve loved every single prompt I’ve gotten but this one breaks the mold a little.

I hope this lives up to your expectations!

From this various prompts list.

When Qui-Gon Jinn set foot on the planet of Melida/Daan for the second time, he had a fixed set of expectations.

He expected to find the same war-torn, shattered homes and abused soil, the same decimated populations, the same stench of death. He expected to find the underground hideouts where the children hid from the wrath of their parents, and where the Melida plotted against the Daan and the Daan against the Melida. He expected to find a bruised and shame-faced former Jedi Padawan, ready to humble himself before the Council.

He expected to have to offer both comfort and stern reprimand to this child who, as much of a delight as he had once been, no longer deserved to be his apprentice.

And he did find some of that.

He also found fields of green grass, and abandoned fields of half-plucked vegetation and fruits.

A memorial garden.

A row of corpses covered neatly in cloths, lining the road, respectfully untouched.

Faded posters announcing committees and treaties and open elections, speeches and remembrance services.

A mural on a stone wall, somewhere between impressionist and abstract, of a line of children and adults, the children in the center. Towards the very middle, almost exactly so, was the image of a young boy with pale russet locks hanging an inch loose, and Qui-Gon paused, observing warily as if the image might come to life and attack him.

But it was only an image, and Obi-Wan Kenobi was only a wayward child.

And none of this is was going as anticipated.

The Jedi Master tried to recall what Yoda had told him before chivvying him out the door, but in truth he had not processed much of it aside from Obi-Wan’s name and the understanding that he had asked to be retrieved from Melida/Daan.

Why?

Clearly things had changed, immensely — and yet, in the background, the continued sound of bombs going off and weapons firing, and not a living being in sight.

Qui-Gon continued deeper into the core of the civilization, skirting the worst of the ruins but avoiding the main road in a passing effort to go unnoticed.

It did not last long.

“Master Jedi!” a voice hissed out suddenly, and Qui-Gon turned sharply to see a young man — maybe nineteen, at most — peering at him around the corner of the nearest building, pressed close to the wall. He gestured shortly and vanished.

Qui-Gon took a moment to cast out his senses. The Force bore no distinct warning, so he crossed the road quickly and ducked around the corner.

The young man was waiting for him. Up close it was clear that he was younger than he had appeared, perhaps seventeen, just emerging from the gangly limbs stage, and he was coated in dirt and grime — some of it oddly strategic, smeared across his cheekbones and the crown of his forehead, darkening and muting them. Dark hazel eyes considered Qui-Gon suspiciously.

“You were expecting me,” Qui-Gon stated.

The boy nodded. “I was. Obi-Wan said you would be arriving today, maybe tomorrow.”

A strange jolt ran through Qui-Gon. He had not said Obi-Wan’s name aloud himself, not since that day almost eight months before, and while he had heard other Jedi mention it, it was off-putting to hear this total stranger use it. So familiarly. Like he knew Kenobi well. Qui-Gon brushed the thoughts aside like so many cobwebs and spoke again: “Well, here I am. Where next?”

He did not say, ‘Where is Obi-Wan?’

For some reason, it would have felt like a confession.

The boy pressed his lips into a flat line, as if the Jedi had failed some sort of test. “…I’ll show you. Stick close to me and don’t do anything reckless. Stealth is our best ally right now. Only ally, really.”

Qui-Gon wondered what he was, then, since he was certainly not included in this mysterious “we.”

It was slightly insulting, and sharply painful, to be lectured on strategic maneuvers by what amounted to a child soldier.

Nevertheless, Qui-Gon followed him.

They wound their way through the settlement, bypassing craters where homes had stood and also far more intact buildings, still crisp and clean and bearing that unmistakable scent of newness.

These, more than any of the others, were painted with images of children and adults standing together, plastered with announcements, and more than one — many — almost all — featuring that flame-haired youth. More often than not he was framed closely by two others. Another boy, this one slightly taller and leaner with dark hair. And a girl, a little smaller, with bold waves and startling green eyes.

The boy with the dirty face turned his head to look at each of them, though he did not slow.

After what felt like a very long time, Qui-Gon found himself entering what seemed to be a cellar. It was dark and musty, but before he could question it, his guide went to a section of the wall and pushed, popping open a panel that sank away and slid to one side.

“This way,” he said unnecessarily.

In they went. It was a tunnel, low and long, and Qui-Gon had to stoop halfway just to move. The boy, several inches shorter, had less trouble.

A few minutes of breathless, blind stumbling later, and they reached a reinforced door.

The boy knocked slowly, then quickly; stopped, and then knocked rapidly again. “It’s me!” he called through the crevice. “He’s here.”

There was a grinding sound, and then the door swung open to reveal bright light. The boy slipped through without hesitation, but the Jedi Master was more wary, blinking and waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light before slowly entering the room, still bowed low from the tunnel.

When he rose, he was looking directly into the eyes of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The boy had changed, and yet was exactly the same.

There was no other way to describe it.

He had certainly shot up an inch or so in height. His Jedi tunics were gone; he was wearing a stained white tunic of much poorer cloth and simpler cut, over a pair of patched brown trousers and sturdy boots. His robe was still the one he had worn when he had first arrived all those months ago, but he had sewn the sleeves so that they did not dangle over his wrists or hang wide and loose; instead they were drawn closer, but not so tight that they impeded his movement.

His hair seemed more coppery red than before as it hung loose and untidy, coming to slightly ragged ends halfway between his jawline and his shoulders. Some of the baby fat had melted away, driven off no doubt by stress and hunger and emotion, and his cheekbones stood out a little too much.

But it was his eyes that struck Qui-Gon.

They seemed exactly the same.

Pale blue-green, wide and friendly and innocent, sweet as they had been on the day they met.

Unbearably naive.

Those eyes flickered with shock for a moment, and then the boy stepped forward and offered out his hand. “Master Jinn,” he said.

Qui-Gon blinked. Perhaps if he waited a moment, Obi-Wan would remember that Jedi bowed? But the boy merely stared at him with his hand extended, and so Qui-Gon grasped it and shook briefly before letting go.

The boy did not seem particularly bothered. He turned to the rest of the room. “You’re all ready?”

“Yes,” came a chorus of voices.

Freed from the strangeness of Obi-Wan and his gaze, Qui-Gon looked around. There were several others present — all humans, all young, all grimy. Maybe a dozen or so in number. The room he was in was spacious, a little low-ceilinged and plain. It had the air of a bunker, with bright lights that aggravated the eyes and dull walls and functional furniture. Most notably, the enormous table in the center.

It was spread with maps, fliers, announcement posters, detailed blueprints for buildings and machinery, tidy sketches outlining strategies and countermeasures. Qui-Gon’s keen eyes caught words like ‘anti-terrorism,’ ‘knowledge is courage,’ ‘long-range missile launcher,’ and ‘riot activity.’ And, half-concealed under a map of Melida/Daan’s entire surface, a flat holo of three people. Obi-Wan. The dark-haired boy. The girl with green eyes.

“Master Jinn,” Obi-Wan’s voice broke into his observations.

They were all watching him with various degrees of mistrust.

Qui-Gon straightened his spine, and then forced himself to relax a little, trying to radiate comfort and honesty. Even without force sensitivity, they would be eased somewhat.

“Yes, I’m listening,” he assured them.

Kenobi exchanged a quick look with the boy who had guided him here, and the youth shrugged. “He was quick enough and he listened to what I said, but he’s like most adults. Thinking more in his head than paying attention, didn’t even ask my name.”

Qui-Gon started. He hadn’t, had he?

“I—” he began, but the youth cut him off with a dismissive gesture.

“You didn’t ask,” he said. “I’m not sharing now. I’m sure you’ll hear it eventually.”

Obi-Wan nodded as if this were perfectly reasonable. “Master Jinn, are you prepared to take all thirteen of us back to Coruscant?”

“What?” Qui-Gon demanded. He glanced around at the others, who looked even less impressed than before. He felt so unexpectedly out of his depth. What was this place? “I — no, I’m returning you to the Jedi, to the care of the High Council.”

“No,” Obi-Wan said placidly. “You’re not. I’m sure Master Yoda had his reasons for sending you—” the slightest emphasis on the word ‘you’—“but you are here to escort myself and the other twelve to the Core to appear before the Senate. That’s why you were assigned such a large ship. We’re going to make an appeal on behalf of Meldan.”

“Meldan?” Qui-Gon echoed.

“Our planet,” one of the others, a curly-haired, fierce-eyed woman of about twenty-two said. “Obi, are you sure about this? This isn’t at all what you said we could expect.”

“Master Jinn is an exception to many rules,” Obi-Wan told her; as he turned his head to look in her direction, he briefly seemed to change, the tension in his shoulders easing and his face alight with mischief. Then it was gone. He turned back to Qui-Gon, and beneath the veneer of professionalism could be glimpsed a strange aura of… something Qui-Gon couldn’t determine or define.

Their eyes met again, and silence fell for a moment.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan decided. “Yes, this will work. If any Jedi will help ensure you catch the attention of the Senate, it would be Master Jinn. Master Yoda also told me that Master Adi Gallia will be your official patron, which is good; she spends most of her time handling the political side of Jedi affairs.”

“Then we should go now,” said a small boy of no more than nine. “Let’s go!”

“Not just yet, Jocco,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, turning a gentle smile on the child. “We’re not quite ready. We’ll leave in about an hour.”

“Right,” Jocco said, nodding. “Okay.”

Obi-Wan smiled again. “All right, everyone. We have meals to eat and supplies to pack, so let’s keep together and keep organized. Sarai,” he nodded at the curly-haired woman, “and my friend,” a nod to the bitter-eyed nameless guide, “please bring Master Jinn up to speed. Master Jinn,” he added, glancing up from where the smallest children were flocking to his side and clinging to his hands, “I will see you in an hour.”

He left, surrounded by children both far younger and several years older than him, like adoring chicks following their mother, or maybe more like an honor guard. The contrast was both ludicrous and oddly touching.

“You listen to him,” Qui-Gon commented to his tight-lipped companions. “Even though he no longer carries the authority of a Jedi.”

“I haven’t seen any Jedi authority yet,” snapped back his unnamed guide. “Just three Jedi who came, two who left, and one who stayed.”

“It was not our mission to stay,” Qui-Gon replied calmly, tucking his hands inside his sleeves. “Though I can see what compelled him to.”

“Oh, can you?” said Sarai. She folded her arms tightly and assessed him, her lip curling. “I don’t think you see much past the end of your own nose.”

“Petty insults will get us nowhere,” he replied, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of said nose. “And it won’t help you when you speak for your people before the Senate.”

“Me?” an amused smile curled her lips. She looked as if all her suspicions had just been confirmed. “I won’t be speaking, not primarily anyways. I don’t have any governmental authority behind me, I’m just a secondary representative.”

“Same here,” said the young man.

“Governmental authority…? Then who is your speaker?” Qui-Gon asked, slightly bewildered.

“Are you blind?” said the young man. “Obi-Wan is the leader. Since the other two were assassinated, Obi-Wan is our only head of government.”

The next time Qui-Gon laid eyes on his former apprentice, it was mere minutes before their agreed departure time.

The children — Melida, Daan, none of them older than sixteen, aside from former Melida Sarai and former Daan who still refused to share his name — were all gathered next to a large reinforced bay door next to a small fleet of speeders.

Obi-Wan had one arm draped around the shoulders of a ten-year-old boy, murmuring instructions to him, and carrying the little toddler girl on his hip. She was playing with his hair contentedly, unbothered by the preparations going on around her.

If it had been strange to see Obi-Wan before, with his air of sameness-yet-differentness, it was doubly so now.

Knowing what he now knew.

Knowing that Obi-Wan Kenobi had accomplished what he had set out to do and reunited the Melida and the Daan with the help of a few middle-aged adults from both sides and the constant aid of his two companions, Cerasi and Nield. Knowing that he had been fairly elected alongside Cerasi and Nield as the Triumvers — the three Heads of State — of the newly named Meldan.

Knowing that they had been in the midst of Reconstruction both physical and emotional when a radical had betrayed them, murdering innocents gathered for discussions. How Cerasi had been murdered in her bed. How Nield had begun drumming up a military force, only to be assassinated — by a friend of the peace or a foe, who could say? How Obi-Wan had seen all his allies either killed or turn away, and had gathered all he could and retreated below ground, holding tight to his ideals and the legislative power that now backed him.

Knowing how he had continued to sow the seeds of freedom and diplomacy even as the people left above ground resorted again to violence. How he had nurtured genuine friendships among his people, even after having been betrayed.

And here he stood, not even fifteen, making children laugh and reassuring people older than him as he attempted to carry them to freedom and hope.

A government of war-veteran children, led by a former Jedi Padawan.

Qui-Gon watched as everyone was paired up, older teens with younger children, two to a speeder, until at last there was only one vehicle left and only himself and Kenobi still standing.

“I’m afraid I’ll be piloting,” the boy told him. “I’m familiar with the route.”

Qui-Gon swallowed away a bitter taste and merely nodded.

Obi-Wan swung himself up behind the controls, and Qui-Gon moved to sit behind him, and despite everything, despite knowing Obi-Wan’s history over the past eight months, despite being determined not to regard him as his Padawan ever again, it still felt wrong to sit behind. To let the child lead. To let the child sit behind the controls where any decent sniper would aim.

“Stick close and keep low!” Obi-Wan called out.

“Love you Obi!” the same tiny girl cried out from somewhere behind them on another speeder.

Qui-Gon didn’t know what he expected, if he expected anything at all in this strange parallel universe he had wandered into. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan turning his head to grin at the girl and calling back, “Love you too, Cler!” still surprised him.

And then they were off.

The children were clearly well trained, experienced. They seemed to know this back route by heart, undeterred by the semi-light of dusk, and keeping behind outcroppings of rock and trees as much as possible.

Obi-Wan glanced around periodically to check on the others, and every so often one of the others from the back of the parade would speed up to match his pace and give him the all-clear before falling back again.

The breathlessness of the moment settled somewhere in Qui-Gon’s chest. If he could put aside the emotional toll it was taking to sit behind his former student and see him not as a Jedi but as a war-tried planetary ruler, it was easier to be caught up in the rush. The fate of thousands depended on this race for freedom.

The former Jedi Master and Padawan maintained their lead, a slight gap between them and the others.

This served them all well when a blaster bolt came out of nowhere and struck Obi-Wan in his right shoulder, missing his chest only because he sensed it at the last second and twisted away.

There were screams from the smaller children; the older children reacted immediately, scattering their small fleet and engaging their weapons.

“There!” Qui-Gon cried, pointing to a ridge on their right where glimpses of people moving could be seen. His other hand was holding Obi-Wan upright.

“Are you all right to keep piloting?” he shouted.

“For a little while! Hold on, I have a plan!” Obi-Wan shouted back.

“Is it a good plan?”

“Hard to tell until I’ve done it!”

For a second it felt like it had been a year ago, or even better, both of them on the edge of adrenaline and serenity, grinning.

Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber and deflected two more blaster shots, calling out warnings to the others within earshot.

A speeder went down.

A girl and boy were thrown several meters, crushing in the dust, clinging to one another as they rolled to a stop. On another speeder, Sarai yelled “Here!” and pulled up alongside Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, while Jocco stood up from behind her and leapt.

Qui-Gon’s heart shot to his throat.

But as he extended a hand and caught the child with the Force, Obi-Wan was already doing the same thing, drawing Jocco safely onto their speeder. Sarai, meanwhile, swung her speeder back around and parked it in front of the fallen one, shielding the injured two from view. She stood up on the seat and raised a blaster in each hand, lips twisted in a snarl. “Over here you bastards!” she screamed. “Like shooting at children? Give it your best shot!”

“She’s insane,” said Qui-Gon.

“She’s my second in command!” Obi-Wan laughed. “Now get ready! You’re taking the wheel!”

“What?”

Qui-Gon turned his head just in time to see Obi-Wan launch himself off of the moving speeder with reckless grace, executing a Force-augmented leap to land neatly on the ridge. “Kenobi! What are you doing?” Qui-Gon bellowed.

The boy didn’t respond. He had a blaster in his good hand and dropped out of view, directly onto the heads of the people concealed behind the rocks. There were yells; red light flared as weapons went off in rapid succession. Sarai took advantage of the distraction and urged the other two onto her speeder. “Go!” she said.

As soon as they were off, one of the other speeders erupted from the tree-line and swooped in front of her, slowing down enough to allow her to jump aboard behind two smaller children. “Good job kiddos,” Qui-Gon heard her say. Then she looked up at him. “Come on, we have to go!”

“But—Obi-Wan—” he said helplessly.

As he did, Obi-Wan reappeared at the crest of the ridge, a smoking hole in his trouser leg and a bloody furrow over one eye. He looked directly at Qui-Gon and mouthed, ‘Go! Take the others and run, now!’

Then he was gone again.

A pained look crossed Sarai’s face, but she glanced at Jocco sitting on his lap and smoothed it away at once. “He knows what he’s doing,” she said. “Now come on!”

They sped off, trailing dust and a broken wreck, following in the wake of the other speeders far ahead of them.

In the distance, the ship gleamed in the low light, a beacon for them to follow.

The others were waiting for them when they arrived, arranged defensively around the ship, protecting their only mode of transportation. The nameless boy was standing front and center, an adapted blaster rifle in his arms, looking ready to kill anyone who got too near. Jocco ran straight to him.

Sarai helped the other two down and began loading everyone onto the ship, which opened at Qui-Gon’s command.

He and the boy with the rifle waited.

And waited.

The sun set in earnest, and darkness fell.

And still they waited.

“Can you make your appeal to the Senate without him?” Qui-Gon said suddenly.

The young man whipped his head around to look at him. “What?”

“Can you make your appeal without Obi-Wan?”

He sneered. “In his absence, legal responsibility falls to Sarai and me. But it’s not the same.”

“No, it’s not.” Qui-Gon agreed.

There was a brief silence.

“Can you pilot this starship?”

“What?”

Qui-Gon did not repeat himself this time, and the young man’s eyes widened, his grip on his rifle slackening. “You… you want to stay. You want to stay and search for him.”

“You need to leave,” said Qui-Gon quietly. “Can you pilot this starship?”

“My name’s Radan,” the young man said brusquely, extending a grimy hand. “And yeah, between me and Kieln we can figure it out pretty quickly.”

“Good,” said Qui-Gon shaking his hand firmly. “As soon as you exit your first hyperspace jump, contact Master Yoda, it’s all programmed into the system. Tell him what happened.”

He looked again to the shadowed horizon, to the dark smudge several kilometers distant that was the stone ridge where he had last seen Obi-Wan.

“Tell him,” he paused. “…Tell him I am going to stay with my Padawan.”

Radan paused halfway up the ramp, turning to look back, a look of concern crossing his young face. “Even if he’s never going back to the Jedi?” he asked.

Qui-Gon hesitated.

“I suppose we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we? Obi-Wan is capable of making his own decisions.”

Qui-Gon turned back towards the horizon, towards Obi-Wan.

“But I will not leave him again.”

#ugh this boy #someone hug him he’s hurting #sir please your life is in mortal peril sit down #obi wan kenobi #qui gon jinn #qui gon and obi wan #master & padawan #jedi apprentice #melida/daan #padawan obi wan #my writing #star wars #star wars fic #tw injury #tw blood #tw reference to child death

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lihikainanea · 3 years

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Did tiger and bill ever go through like a phase where tiger kind of had to get used to bill thinking of her? Like she wasn't really used to being someone's first choice, like someone thinking about what she might like or want. To have someone frankly just think of you. I'm sorry to be a bother. Just feeling kind of bad lately, and could use some sweet bill. Sorry again.

First of all boo, please don't ever be sorry for sliding into my DMs. I love hearing from you guys, especially if you're not doing that well. I'm all ears, and this blog is a safe space for everyone--so pull up a chair and stay awhile. I, and our two favourite idiots, would be nothing if it weren't for all the amazing asks that you guys send to me <3

Secondly, I love this train of thought because I think it is very, very true. And it probably started back at the beginning of their friendship, right? Yes, it did. Follow me down this rabbit hole.

Bill doesn't make a lot of new friends because since the whole fame thing, he has trouble trusting people--and Bill, by nature, is a caretaker. He's extremely nurturing. He provides. He takes care of those close to him, in one way or another. But he knows his own empathic side, he knows its limits and boundaries, and one of the worst things he can do for his own well being is care about too many people. Get involved with too many people. Bill is happiest amongst his close group of friends, people he knows he can trust, people he can cook dinner for and host movie nights for and fly halfway around the world when he has a premiere.

And tiger, for her part--my girl tiger, she has zero self-preservation skills. Like, none. And Bill is fascinated by that. He's fascinated by this little fireball who not only has no idea who he is, but who subsequently really couldn't give a shit once she found out. He's enamoured with this little scrappy ball of ire who is convinced not only that she can start a bar fight with everyone in the pub, but that she can legitimately win. Bill's never seen anything like it. And once you meet tiger, she's impossible not to love. Or at least, it's impossible not to be intrigued by her, and to want to know more.

But the thing is, that firecracker personality and the massive chip on her shoulder doesn't come from nowhere--tiger's been hurt a lot. And it's because she never goes for the good guys. For as much as Bill has an empath side, tiger has the self-destructive kind where she wants to fix people. And she always goes for the dudes who will take and take and take, the dudes who play rope a dope with her heart, and who leave her shattered. Tiger gives her soul away too easily, and she takes it as a challenge when she's tossed to the side by some guy who was never worth her time anyway. She tries to prove she's worthy.

But then in comes Bill--this big, wall-eyed, kind of freaky looking dude who seems nice and kind and is moderately soft spoken. And when they hang out, Bill starts showing a genuine interest--platonically, of course--but it's genuine. He asks what she does for a living. He asks if she likes it. He wants to know where she went to school, what she studied. Does she have any siblings? Because he has a lot, and he knows how tough big families can make you. When tiger can't decide if she wants the chilli fries or the chicken wings one night at a pub, Bill tells her to get both--and that's when she knew they'd be friends.

And it slowly but surely escalated from there--still all platonic at the beginning--but suddenly, Bill was asking her how she was getting home, if she needed a ride. He was asking her how her week was, when everyone got together on Friday--and if she had mentioned something big previously, a meeting or a presentation or something--he'd remember, and ask her how it went. If he left the bar early, he'd politely ask her if she could text him when she got home.

"Why?" she scoffed.

"Because somebody needs to look out for you," he answered honestly. Tiger, in true fashion, balked awkwardly.

And this is where her defence mechanism started to fly up. Because when you're not used to being cared for, when you're not used to genuinely mattering to someone or hell even just getting the attention of a truly good person--it's weird. It's awkward. It's scary as hell and requires a level of vulnerability that tiger isn't ready to let exist--because it would mean that she would have to admit to herself that she is worthy. That this is the norm, and that she deserves this. That she knowingly let herself settle for being treated like shit for so many years.

And tiger's first defence is always anger. So maybe she started getting real snippy with him, probably well into their friendship by this point--so Bill was cooking for her, and if he wasn’t then he was checking in to make sure she ate at least one vegetable that day. If she had a date, he would wait until she texted him that she was in for the night--whether that was at the guy’s place or hers. If she needed a ride home in the morning then he would pick her up, in all of her walk of shame glory--but he’d pick her up with a few Advil, some big sunglasses, a huge coffee. And he would absolutely make fun of her nefarious, ill-fated decisions but he’d always wait at least 12 hours before he dared.

But to go even further--you are absolutely right. Bill does put her first. Once she is solidified as his best friend, then there’s no going back--she comes first. And part of it is Bill really is legitimately concerned because tiger has no self preservation skills and he worries that if HE doesn’t concern himself over her, then tiger will just like...her reckless decisions will be her undoing. He must look after Little Human, because Little Human’s self-destructive streak is far too prevalent. He has left dates in the dust when she needed his help. He looks out for her in group settings, and intervenes if some idiot is getting too handsy with her. If he has a boys night that night but tiger calls crying because some idiot broke her heart, or crying because it’s shark week and she’s out of gummy bears--then Bill is there. In a heartbeat, he’s there. She comes first.

And I’ll bet it’s all very nice, but it also kind of has tiger seething. Because she’s not used to this kind of...care. The genuineness of it. And tiger can’t be vulnerable enough to admit that part of her likes it, part of her feels safe knowing that even in the wee hours of the morning, Bill is awake and waiting for her to let him know she got in safely. Part of her kind of likes this idea that someone is thinking of her, that someone prioritizes her. But it’s still tiger, so she also gets hella mad. And she seethes--for a long time, she seethes. Quietly. And then maybe it all just comes to a head one night when she goes over to Bill’s place after work and he has a crisp glass of white wine waiting for her, a change of clothes, even her favourite make up remover--the kind that doesn’t sting, because she has sensitive skin. And all of that pisses her off, but then she walks into the kitchen as he’s deftly cleaning and slicing mushrooms.

“How did it go?” he asks casually. Tiger plays dumb.

“How did what go?” she swigs her wine.

“The meeting with your boss today.”

“...Fine,” she mumbles, petulantly. Of course he’d remember that, even though she told him two weeks ago.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offers kindly. Tiger sees an errant pile of green onions on his chopping board, and she eyes them wearily but somewhat triumphantly. Bill heads to the fridge, pulls out a bowl of salad, then he tosses the green onions in. Perfect, she thinks, and it gives her a weird sense of satisfaction. Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Considerate, doesn’t even remember what she considers to be the most significant thing about her. That she hates green onions. She feels triumphant, renewed. Somewhat weirdly comforted to confirm that perhaps she doesn’t mean that much to him.

Until he heads back to the fridge, and pulls out another bowl of salad--one that he promptly dresses, salts and peppers, and tosses. One without green onions. One for her.

“Why do you do that?!” she explodes. Bill jumps in surprise.

“Do what?” he asks innocently, “This one has no green onions!”

“Exactly,” she continues, “Ugh, Bill. Just...why do you always...ugh, Bill!”

Bill is stunned, still holding his bowl of salad, trying to figure out what exactly is happening here.

“It’s too much,” tiger says, slamming her wine down, “All of it is too much.”

“What’s too much?”

“You! This. Why do you always just....think of everything?” she says, and she’s steadfastly working herself into a tizzy.

“Tiger...”

“How? How do you remember these things? How do you fucking remember that I had a meeting with my boss today, a meeting that I told you about two weeks ago? Why do you make a whole other bowl of salad for me, why do you remember that I hate green onions?”

“Because I care about you kid,” he shrugs.

Tiger is angry, but she’s also at a loss for words. Bill’s genuineness, his honesty, will do that. For as much as she struggles to be vulnerable. Bill shows that side of himself openly. She doesn’t even know why she’s so angry. Bill watches her for a minute, but she’s kind of just bug-eyed so he goes back to his cutting board and starts calmly chopping his little mushrooms again.

“I don’t like it,” she mutters after a long pause.

“Too bad,” he shrugs non-chalantly. Tiger glares at him.

“Too bad?” she seethes.

“Too bad,” he repeats.

“Stop it,” she says.

“No.”

“Bill, I mean it. Stop always trying to--”

“No.”

“I’m not finished,” she stamps her foot, “Stop being such--”

“No.” he says again, “Tiger, this is what I do.This is how I am. I care about the people that matter to me.”

“Well I don’t ma--”

“Yes you do. You matter to me. So I suggest you put on your big girl panties, and fucking deal with it,” he says. And that’s final. Tiger is taken aback at his tone, at the way his face suddenly got serious--but then in a heartbeat, it’s relaxed again.

“Now, do you want mustard on your burger, or ketchup?” he asks. Tiger is petulantly silent, glaring at him.

“Tiger.” he warns, holding up the hamburger bun.

“Shouldn’t you already know?” she huffs in annoyance, going to the fridge and grabbing the wine. She swigs it right from the bottle as she boosts herself up on the kitchen counter. Bill goes to the fridge and grabs the mayo--her favourite--putting a thick schmear on the bun.

“God, get fucked asshole,” she mutters. Bill just grabs her face, plants a noisy kiss on her cheek as she shrieks and swats him.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #bill skarsgard fanfic #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard fic

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hongjoongslut · 3 years

Text

Title: Mortal Chaos

after being banished from Mount Olympus, you are forced to wreak havoc on mortals. every man that has stepped into your life, they’ve fallen to your knees and did what you asked at will. no mortal man has ever given you trouble or attitude at your requests, except for one. Yoo Kihyun.

pairing: goddess!reader (Até, goddess of mischief, delusion, ruin, and blind folly, rash action and reckless impulse) x mortal!mafialeader!Kihyun

rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.4k

warnings: greekmythology!au, tatted!kihyun, nonidol!kihyun, reader is such a bitch but thats how she was made, mafia themes, sarcasm, so much sarcasm, mentions of readers and kihyun’s past victims, reader and kihyun have a physical fight but it doesn’t last long.

NSFW warnings: dom!kihyun, brat!reader, unprotected sex (this goddess has superpowers to not get pregnant lol, always wear protection), pull out method, oral (f receiving), kihyun is a cocky little shit in bed, slight degradation from both parties but no harsh names

BTW reader's thoughts are in italics :)

Enjoy!!

being a goddess should be beautiful, right? it’s not everything it sounds like. you just so happen to be one of the few goddesses that are feared instead of loved. you’ve made men do unspeakable things countless times, they just fall to your knees and bend at your will. for years you fooled gods until Zeus had enough of your antics. he banished you to Earth. now you’re stuck with pathetic mortals, but at least you can still wreak havoc here.

you can’t exactly be in your goddess form without notice, so you pretend to be some sort of rebel among the others. you’re going to your usual club where sorry, pathetic men roam freely, unknowingly that you’re about to ruin their lives. “these mortal songs aren’t too bad.” you thought to yourself, searching for your prey. you see a few men that are far from sober and you almost pity them, almost. no one has really sparked your interest, so you go on the dance floor. “might as well act as a mortal since i’m here.” your outfit is sure to spark men at a club, how could they not fall in love with fishnets hugging your thighs oh so deliciously.

so far you’ve been looking for random men to practice on, while you wait for your target to show up. Yoo Kihyun. you’ve been in this town for a while, and everybody you meet tells you to stay away from him and his gang, Monsta X. there’s wanted posters almost everywhere you go. you thought the members would be nice to mess with, but once you figured out who the leader was, your heart was set. he was definitely a handsome man, even a blind person could see so. his men are attractive as well, you’re sure so many women fall to their feet.

you’re dancing in a crowd of people who smell of sweat and alcohol. “almost smells like sex.” of course you’ve been bumped into, but someone is getting a little to close for your liking. you push it off until someone grabs your hips and tries to make you grind on them. you turn to find some wasted dude, smirking. “back the fuck off bitch, you don’t want to mess with me.” he laughs “i can’t resist you baby…” he slurs. you scoff, shoving him away. you turn to dance again but he grabs your wrist. “feisty, i love it sweetheart.” you’ve had it. you turn and sock him directly in the nose. “don’t fucking touch me. go to hell.” he stumbles, blood beginning to pour from his now crooked nose. “you bitch…i’m gonna kill you!” he tries to run to you, but he is stopped by a tatted arm. “get the fuck out of my club before i deal with you myself.” the man turns to face Yoo Kihyun, his eyes immediately widened. the drunk runs away from the situation, leaving you and Kihyun standing there.

“im so sorry about that ma’am. you did break his nose, i’m impressed. i’ve never seen a woman do that.” he scoffs, now facing you. “can i get you anything on the house for dealing with such an asshole?” you smile. “No thanks, but is there any first aid kit in here? My hand really hurts..” you rub your perfectly fine hand. “i’ve got you kihyun.” he nods. “follow me. don’t worry, we’ll get that hand looked at.” you walk behind him, studying his features. “he really is handsome. i’m gonna have so much fun with him.” he brings you to his office, guiding you to a chair. “i’m sure you may have just bruised or maybe even broke it. you socked the hell out of him.” he laughs again. “you’d be perfect for the mafia. i’m sure you’ve heard this town is filled with gangs left and right.” he turns to you and examines your hand. “wow, i don’t see any cuts or bruises. it doesn’t feel broken or anything, you’re a strong woman.” he looks at you smirking. “thank you, what’s your name?” he rolls his eyes, scoffing.

“have you not been in town for long? everybody here knows my name. I’m Yoo Kihyun, I run this club.” he offers his hand, you reach out to shake it. “ahh, well nice to meet you Kihyun, i’m y/n.” he smiles. “what a beautiful name, it suits such a badass woman like you.” you start to admire his office. “he has good taste in decor and aesthetic.” you walk around, analyzing his office. “this office is gorgeous, who are all these people?” you point to a picture of him and Monsta X. he walks to you, seeing what picture you’re pointing at. “ahh, those are my closest friends. they work for me here at this club.” you can feel the music blaring through the floor. “you know, i actually recognize these men. i think they’re in some sort of gang.. why would you be friends with such horrible people?” you start to back away, pretending to be scared.

“so you did know who i was all along. i’m not that dumb sweetheart.” he looks at you, then walks to his door and locks it. “so, who do you work for and why are you here? i suggest you tell me willingly or we’ll have to get it out another way.” you back away from him, your butt hitting his desk. “i-i don’t work for anyone! i just came here because my boyfriend just left me and my friends suggested i come here to forget about that asshole… please don’t hurt me!” you really should become an actor, he’s completely fooled. “i’m so sorry about that y/n.. i can make him disappear you know. just say the word and it will be like he never existed.” you smiled, looking down to his feet. his finger comes to your chin, lifting your face. “you’re really beautiful darling. he’s missing out on such a kickass woman. tell me, since you’ve definitely heard of my gang, what do you think of me?” you don’t know how he’s affecting you, this isn’t supposed to happen. wetness fills between your legs.

“i think you’re very attractive and maybe you need a woman by your side to help with this shitty town. i may look innocent, but i’ve done unspeakable things baby.” he smirks, eyeing your features. “you wouldn’t last five minutes in my gang babygirl. we’re feared internationally.” you hum, biting your lip. “i’ve terrorized gods and men alike. nothing scares me.” you reach to hold his cheek. “maybe it’s you that wouldn’t last five minutes with me.” you wink, caressing the apple of his cheeks. you feel his cheeks becoming warm. “why don’t we test that theory then darling. you sure you want me and you can handle me? i wouldn’t want to be the same person that asshole downstairs.” you shake your head. “you’re so much better than him. give me your worst-“ you lean into his ear “-daddy.”

he steps back, eying your figure. “you play a wonderful lie darling, but i’m not fooled. i suggest you tell me why you’re really here or im getting my friends up here. you do not want that sweetheart.” he pulls a knife from his pocket, holding it against your throat. you laugh. “oh kihyun, you really think this knife scares me? you’re all bark and no bite baby.” his pupils dilate, pushing the knife closer to your throat. “don’t fucking push me brat.” you stare at each other for a moment before you push him away. you punch his stomach, making him stumble back. “instead of using the cowards way out, show me how tough this mafia leader really is.” he scoffs. “im not hitting a lady. get out before i change my mind.” you walk towards him. “if you want me out so badly, why did you lock the door?” you push him to his knees and knee him in the jaw, making him lay flat on the floor. “i suggest you do as i say or you’ll be my next victim.” he sighs. he wraps his leg around yours, pulling you to the ground. he punches you hard in the gut, making you whine slightly. he pulls out a walkie talkie. “boys, get up here, now.” your eyes widen.

“they will be here soon unless you apologize darling, i suggest you do so.” you sigh, not wanting to ruin your plan, “i’m sorry kihyun...im just fighting because its all i know how to do. I’ll leave you alone.” he lets you up and calls his members. “nevermind that, boys. i’ve got it handled.” you let a small smile show to your face. you turn to leave his office when he stops you. “y/n, i never thought i’d beg to anyone but we definitely need you in our group. we may look handsome but its nothing to your beauty. not to mention, you can definitely fight and defend yourself. please darling, i’ll do anything.” you smile subconsciously. “oh how dumb can you really be?” you stare at him, watching him eye you up and down. “listen here. if i tell you my secret, i’d have to kill you, but just know that i can fight a lot better than what i did with you. i’ve never seen someone so handsome...it attracts me.” he smirks. “Well, what do i need to do so you’ll join Monsta X princess?” you stare at him for a moment before softly pecking his lips. “how about you show me how one of the most feared leaders is when he’s begging to cum?” something switched in his eyes, you could see it. “i definitely will, brat.”

he picks you up with ease and slams you on his desk. his lips are devouring yours and his tongue is exploring every part of your mouth. “how the hell is a mortal making me so aroused?” he leaves your lips to mark your neck. your body is getting antsy. “as much as i love this, just fuck me already kihyun...or is it that you’re too weak to please me?” he grabs your throat, closing his hands. The loss of air is so thrilling, you almost don’t want him to leave. “princess, that’s not the case at all. you better learn your place quickly or you’re not cumming at all tonight.” he rips off your shirt, taking a second to view you. “so beautiful darling...and all for me.” you smile at his words. he removes your pants, leaving you in just your lacey boyshorts. “i swear if he judges me for wearing boyshorts, i will actually kill him” he removes them, staring directly at your pussy. “so wet...yet you called me weak? how ironic.” he licks a stripe on you, your entire body losing itself. “sweet tasting, beautiful looking and is badass? you must be my dream.” he goes back to your pussy, eating you as if he has never tasted food before. moans leave your mouth, your mind can’t even process words. “kihyun...don’t fucking stop please...holy shit.” he doesn’t respond verbal;y, he responds with pushing his index finger into your soaking cunt. “god…. i cannot wait to feel these walls against my cock. so perfect princess.” a familiar feeling is bubbling inside you. “kihyun, im so close...please let me cum!” he looks up at you, smirking at your already fucked out state. “since you asked so nicely, cum all over my tongue darling.” he starts eating you out again, his tongue and fingers moving faster than the speed of light. you scream his name as you cum. he leans up, licking his lips. “the sweetest thing i’ve ever had baby. he removes his shirt, showing you his inked chest. “holy shit, how does he keep getting hotter?” he sees you looking at his chest. “you got a staring problem baby. i know, they make me so irresistible.” you roll your eyes. “come fuck me already or i will blue ball you in a split second.” his eyes widen. he takes his pants off, slipping his boxers off with them. “are you on birth control?” he softens a bit. “im not able to get pregnant, and i wont tell you why.” he laughs. “jeez, so hostile.” he slowly pushes in, watching your reaction. “holy shit kihyun…” he sighs. “so warm and wet...i am definitely not gonna last long.” he pushes further until he bottoms out. he watches how your body is reacting, making sure he isn’t actually hurting you. “please move kihyun. i can’t wait any longer.” he pulls out slowly only to go back in harder. he picks up his pace, moans bouncing off the walls. “shit...you’re so perfect y/n, i wish i could stay in this pussy all day.” you can’t pronounce anything but his names and very explicit words. you’re uncontrollably squeezing down on his cock, making him falter his pace. “you’re squeezing down on me….god im so close.” you can feel another orgasm bubbling inside you. “k-kihyun, please please please let me cum, wanna-wanna cum all over your cock.” his breathing and pace is becoming irregular. “yes... yes princess, cum all over my cock.” he rubs your clit, making you scream. your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking uncontrollably. “princess…. holy shit!” he pulls out of you, shooting his cum all over your stomach. he sighs, still getting over his high. he grabs a tissue from his desk and wipes you clean. he helps you back into your clothes. he starts dressing himself, wearing a permanent smile. “so, is that what i needed to do for you to join my gang, princess?” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“you’re so arrogant kihyun, but hell yes.”

oh my goodness my baby is finally out!! it took a while for me to finish this but i absolutely love this

#godsamongus #kihyun smut

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