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headsincloud9 · 1 year

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His Slutty Little Waist

This is a series I made based on the community's universal agreement that Navi men have slutty little waists. So these collection of smutty fics showcase that little detail I hope you enjoy

This fic is dedicated to @jakexneytiri

Paring: Jake sully × femreader

Words 6.1k

Warnings: P n V, breeding kink, mating press, oral (male and female receiving), fingerings, dirty talk, pet names, implied size difference

Summary: you have a problem an obsession his name Jake sully and his slutty little waist. You thought you kept it hidden you thought your predatory gaze was lost in the sea of others.... but you were wrong

THIS IS SMUT 18+ MINOR DNI REPEAT MINORS DNI THIS IS 18+ THIS IS SMUT

Note: Post has been edited to fix spelling, punctuation, and a few other things.

You had an obsession. If someone else said it you would have denied it, but you did and the only person to even get a confession out of you was your best friend I’xsil, she knew you better than anyone, so when you denied your obsession she stared at you until you came clean. What was your obsession: Jake... but what had your eye on him right now to be more specific to his waist... It stirred something fiercely in the pit of your stomach, and it came to the point that it made you sick. His waist was small and slender but toned and perfect to his frame. The things that swirled sinful in your mind did not even begin to be described. And that was where your mind was as you were staring down Jake like he was weak and easy prey out of the corner of your eye, so you would not bring attention to “Y/n…..y/n…Y/N” I’xsil voice finally reached your ears, and you jumped eyes, finally tearing themselves away from Jake and to your best friend.

I’xsil just stared at you only for you to say nothing staring back, like she had not caught you shamelessly eye fucking Jake mother fucking Sully AGAIN. “Y/n what just came out of my mouth” she asked. Y/n paled and then flushed with no idea what her friend had just said you were too busy distracted. Y/n’s eyes wandered again, but this time Jake was gone from his spot. The sound of a loud clap made y/n jump as you stared back at I’xsil “ For fuck sake y/n, you have a problem you are so caught up in jake and his looks you are a pain to even talk to. You groan putting your head in your hands “stop it I’xsil you do not understand his waist, his fucking sinful it is little and slutty yet toned…. i want to trace my tongue on his slutty little-“ I’xsil stopped you before the words could come out of your mouth. And you give a sinister grin, your tail thrashing with mischief, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “ i fucking hate i even asked…. is this payback for when I told you about the size of my mates, dick" she groans. y/n laughs and pushes her playfully “it might be now maybe you’ll back off when im busy” you mutter eyes searching for Jake again. Huffing your search unsuccessful, I’xsil smacked you across the head lightly “ no, what you need to do is come clean about your crush on him to him, and maybe you can get what you want. The man is unmated for Eywas sake there has to be a reason and I am sure he does notice the fact that a pair of eyes are on him all the time.” you grumble. You roll your eyes, getting up going to take a walk, get some air, and ultimately dwell on what your friend said unaware you had been overheard.

What you did not know was your friend’s observation was spot on, Jake had noticed you and your eyes no matter how you tried to hide it, he knew he could feel it; your stare was hot and desperate like a thirst that could not be satiated. It would be a lie to say he did not welcome it in fact he enjoyed it even making sure to wear his loincloth in a way that brought his body to your attention. He had been holding back to make the first move mostly to see if you would, but also he was not going to make a fool of himself if the stares were just that and nothing more. He could not deny that he had feelings for you bordering on a need that made his stomach churn and his cock jump at the thought of what he could do to you, the sound he could draw from your pretty lips. His tail swished at the thought as he felt your eyes on him again as he spoke to another clan member about something; he did not care to focus all he could focus on was you ... y/n. The heat left his body and he cut his eyes over in the direction he felt, and he noticed that you were now being scolded by your friend. The corner of his mouth was twitched in a smirk, with the idea of why you were being quietly yelled at…..he was the distraction.

He took his moment to get out of your line of sight, excusing himself, and thanked his teaching that kept him silent as he hid in the crowds of people going about their day and clan duties. He heard your voice his ears flicking towards the sound his curiosity getting the better of him as he listened to hearing his name “you do not understand his waist is fucking sinful…its so tiny and slutty yet toned…. i want to trace my tongue over his slutty little-“ he had to hold back a chuckle seeing you get hit by her with a mouth like that you needed to be taught to keep it preoccupied doing something else'' he swallowed thickly his mind conjuring up images of his sinful desire of you and now that he knew you had something for him he wouldn’t let you make the first move, not anymore. He watched you leave the forest and followed his bow with him. He did not know what he was going to do, but a few ideas were conjuring up in his mind.

Taking a moment to calm your mind as you walked you did not bother to bring your bow just the knife you carry on you at all times so you did not venture that far out from the village in case danger did occur, it was Pandora wild unforgiving and beautiful. The walk was working, and you began to focus more on nature around you “thunk”. Your ears flick hearing the noise again, and tell the sign of an arrow hitting something. Some must be trained with their bow, most likely with a new warrior. Y/n walks silently through the brush, making sure not to step on a stray branch or make noise following the sound of your tail moving slowly as curiosity takes over. Your eyes blow wide with shock, seeing it was jake. practicing his form. Y/n blinks, heart picking up and pupils blowing wide with complete fascination as you watch him pull the bow string taut keeping his posture straight and his core tight as he aimed. Your ears flick with a mischievous delight, eyes burning into his frame as you watch the abs on his torso tense and flex in anticipation of releasing something you could relate to. Y/n shifts the light of pandora casting shadows of the leaves in the brush you are hiding in yellow eyes wide tail-flicking. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes wonder again to his slutty little waist about the straps of his loincloth hanging even more loosely on him. Y/n shuddered feeling a heat wash over you swallowing hard wanting nothing more than to bite lick and mark that delicate blue skin that teased you since the day you first laid eyes on him. Y/n swallowed a whimper, watching him release an arrow. Y/n had no shame watching him for the heat pooling your stomach growing swirling like a heavy storm. Shifting y/n took notice of her own loincloth sopping from her own desire, eyefucking him and enjoying every minute.

Y/n’s head swirled with the same fantasy playing in her mind for weeks now on her back skin slapping skin, and hips slamming into her as you pulled him closer her legs wrapped around him his slutty little waist as he pistoned into her with no mercy muttering filth in her ears. Her mind played tricks “ good fuckin, ‘girl fir me~’ y/n heard him groan mind playing sinful tricks. You bite your bottom lip hard, swallowing a moan as the walls of your pussy walls clenched around nothing, a wave of arousal completely ruining your loin cloth. Y/n heard a noise: a stick breaking your concentration and an ear-flicking back alert. Quickly look over your shoulder eyes scanning for an unknown source that was not there. That second of distraction was your demise.

He let fly arrow after arrow waiting, his tail swishing in anticipation y/n would come looking like you always did hungry and drooling, wanting more. It was almost like a game a cat and mouse one he was getting sick of, he wasn’t used to having to hold this much restraint for something he wanted he very much like to claim what he found pretty, y/n his pretty little prey he plan to split open and devour like a starving palulukan. His mouth went dry at the thought of his tasting you ('dry mouth bringer of pleasure') swallowing thickly as his cock pressed uncomfortably against his loincloth begging for release, friction, and anything. He grunts in frustration he needed this to end before he did something without thinking and as fun as that sounded to him, he did not want to scare you off. His ears flick back and tilt his head as he draws back his bow again, having lost count how many times he would repeat his actions. He holds his position when his ears flick his tail in recognition of that burning feeling. A smirk graced his lips, was dangerous, and predatory for Na’vi. You are absolutely predictable. He readjusted his stance deeply, closing his eyes, as the sweetest scent filled his nose. His ears pressed back to his skull, and his tail was rigid as he suppressed the shiver running up his spine. Jake clenched his jaw gripping his bow until his knuckles went white that primal monster inside roaring to find the source. He nearly chuckled as he again inhaled the scent hitting him like a brick wall, exotic, sweet, and desperate. He exhaled, letting his mouth hang open, as his pupils blew wide with predatory lust. Jake went back to his ‘training’ he needed a moment where he wasn’t in your line a sight one moment for the love of Eywa one FUCKING moment. He cock was fully hard aching against his loincloth, begging for something anything…..Fuck it.

The disturbance of the forest perked his interest not because of the potential danger, but because the burning feeling subsided. He smirks, staring back at you from your hidden spot. He could make out your figure hidden in the brush if it were not for your obvious need, he would not have spotted you. Therefore, he waited for this moment. He grunts again, adjusting his loin cloth to accommodate the aching problem and his fingers twitching to stroke himself to ease the pain like he did so many other nights to the memory of your face in his mind. Jake crossed his arms waiting staring at his long abandoned bow. His heart soared, seeing your eyes scan back his direction, waiting for inevitable eye contact. He could not stop the smirk crawling over his face becoming a playful sneer, his eyes dangerous, as he stared right at you. Let’s dance y/n.

Y/n heart calms only a little scanning the brush around her, seeing nothing feeling nothing that would threaten you or your…. ‘Walk’. You sigh gently; your tail drooping ears relax before turning back. Eyes focusing back on it took a moment, but when you realized your heart stopped. Jake was staring at you…no that couldn’t be right, they both heard the movement he had to be searching. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, everything was fine, just a little paranoia…..Shit you really needed to get this obsession under control. But opening them is what made your heart skip a beat he was still staring at you and his smile got.. wider. Oh fuck….OH FUCK your heart picked up speed looking him over slowly getting as slowly as possible crawling back body picking flight over fight. But could not deny how much this turned her on. You closed your eyes, swallowing the whine of need that threatened to escape that would have given you up completely and with quiet footing and cautious sound you silently ran until the hot feeling that swirled in your stomach subsided into a dull pulse. Y/n sighs softly catching whatever breath is left in your lungs fingers touching the trunk of a tree closing your eyes to calm your mind and think. Maybe this was a sign from Eywa to move on. You had been caught, so now you had to do everything in your power to avoid him. Slowly relaxing your guard too low to pick up that the roles were reversed, you were being watched and followed. Y/n’s ears flick hearing noise pulling your head away from the tree only to squeal with large, strong hands gripping your hips and yanking you to them. “ mawey y/n mawey just me” a deep voice chuckles in your ear, your eyes threatening to roll back in your head from the sound of his voice. “J-Jake…. You scared me,” You hiss out breathless, unable to say much else your voice ready to give out from the sheer proximity not to mention your entire body the only thing keeping you grounded; his hands.

You feel his body vibrates as a deep chuckle comes from him “why because you got caught or you realized i noticed” he purrs in your ear his lips brushing against the tip unable to control the erratic flicking from the sensation. “I ... .mmm… it’s” you couldn’t form any kind of coherent thought, your brain working on less than 20 percent the other 80 was screaming "need him ... .need him ... .need him…. You felt his hand wander from the curve of your hip down the side of your thigh and up the swell of your ass squeezing “I… you… what y/n, you’ve gotten so shy after so boldly eye fucking me like a needy slut baby girl…too late for that” he chuckles his fingers squeezing your hip as the other teases your lower back

Y/n’s tail-flicked and thrashed from the ticklish touches, he left you feeling trapped that flight response kicking in shifting to move. There was a growl as soon as you made the smallest movement to move ignoring it you lean to pull away only to feel his hand grips and wrap your tail around his forearm the grip on your hip like steel as he yanks you back to his chest “did i say you could leave y/n you have nowhere to run now so accept that.” He hums his voice-strained desperate under a deep, predatory calm. A whine slipped through your lips as you began to submit to him, not as you wanted to run anyway. The bit of your stomach churned hot as his hand moved over the torso, and the muscles jerked to his touch as your breath caught in your throat. Your thighs press together departed for friction, and the fear of being caught swirled back into the scorching heat of lust. Your jaw dropped, feeling a tug at the base of your tail, feeling your own slick begins to coat your thighs choking back a whine.

Y/n feels his nose press against her neck hearing him take a deep breath only to whimper in primal desire “do you know y/n how i knew” he murmurs against your skin pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder scenting you. You let out a whine in response, unable to form anything other than sounds like a trapped animal, which, in Jake’s eyes, you were. He places and opens a mouth kiss to your shoulder groaning as your scent hits him like a brick wall his ear pressing back to his skull. “I could smell you…. Sweet, desperate…..” he groans his fangs grazing the sensitive flesh on the back of your neck begging to bite down. “ as if you could hide from me you become shamelessly wet around me, slutty girl.” He chuckles his hands wandering again up the front of the stomach, squeezing her plump breast with his fingers sliding under the soft beading of your top. “I’m….s-sorry Jake I will not do it again, ’ you struggle to leave.

Jake grows that devolve into a needy moan spinning your smaller form around to face him and he pins you to the back of the tree, eyes blown wide the gold you had come to admire was gone leaving a black swirling pit of lust and primal desire that was eager to swallow her whole. “No you don’t get it y/n I. Want . You. I wanna make you moan, make you writhe, make you mine only mine, ” he murmurs in your ear lips pressed to the youll licking it, slowly pulling a desperate whimper from your lips for it to be returned with one of his own tail thrashing. “ I’ve been patient and I’ve given hints but you have been…..frustrating i even indulge your little obsession what was it you called my slutty little waist." You blush harder than before looking down at his waist, his loincloth hanging so low one tug, and it would fall off. “And I'm willing to do it again, let you keep your little obsession but you have to do one thing for me… can you do that” he asks breathlessly, licking a stripe up the side of your neck. You gasp fingers gripping his hip not to lose your own self as you were trapped under him “ Give into me…. give in. " he grows out watching as his hips jerk forward. To press into yours. You whine feeling the friction of his bulge on your ruined loincloth “words a baby girl.. I need the words" he demands. You stare up at him, eyes wide with lust “yes.”

Jake smiled down at you and pulled you into a searing kiss, your mind clouding as you kissed back moaning desperately into his mouth only for his tongue to slip into her mouth dominating her tongue exploring your mouth as he groaned in satisfaction finally having your mouth on his. You pull away begging for air looking up at the man still holding you like trapped prey, eyes widen feeling something hard hit your lower stomach hearing a sigh of frustration from Jake and looking down seeing he was more than just emotionally frustrated, he was completely feral. “You see what you do to me y/n…now be a good girl and get on your knees” he groans his hands cupping your neck.

You fall to your knees taking a moment to kiss down his torso licking and bitting at his waist your mind in a lust-filled haze your darkest desires bubbling up to the surface spurred on by his needy whines and deep groans “ fuck y/n you do have a fixation. You look up at him licking a long stripe up his waist, tugging off his loincloth, watching it drop your jaw doing the same. His cock hit his stomach with a light smack, and your eyes grew wide, unconsciously wetting your lips and licking them slowly. “Don’t do that y/n im barely holding on and i will fuck your throat if you do that again” he groans out voice strained a chuckle escaping him. However, you could feel his grip tightened on her hair a warning to his threat, making a very delicious promise eyes glittering with a dark mischief you looked over his cock the thick mushroom head angry and leaking a sinful amount of precum, thick shaft with the glow of his freckles a massive vein underneath her tongue begged to lick. You lick your lips again, and water your mouth as your lips are subconsciously parted. “Please…daddy” you whine. He chuckles, growling whatever restraint he had gone his eyes glaze over as he slides his cock past your parted lips. Your eyes roll back, finally having what you wanted, her tail thumping the ground in delight swirling her tongue around the thick textured shaft eyes welling with tears from the size.

Your ears flick back hearing a chuckle that devolved into a hiss and whimper as he took a moment to catch his breath “fuck my mind didnt do your mouth justice. The urge to ruin your throat is mind shattering. mmmm~ fu-uck… tap my leg three times if you need to stop okay” he says to you. You took matters in your own hands, pushing your head down the length of his cock gagging slightly as you deep throat his eyes watering blinking away tears. A wave of pleasure rushed through your body and heard him groan your name; the thick head pressed deeply into your throat. Jake pulls away a panting head tilted back staring down at the slutty sight before him; on your knees, mouth open, tongue out as sinful string of precum and spit connecting your glistening lips to his cock’s tip, wide eyes ... .all his. He grows and slides his cock back down your wanting throat with strained groan pressing as long as he could bottom out in your throat “ breath….. baby girl relax, ” he chants, hooking his wrists around the back of your neck and clasping his fingers.

Y/n coughs trying to relax their throat and breath, easier said than done you could feel twitch and throb in your throat your eyes rolling back in your head relishing in the feeling as your swallow around him trying not to gag. You gasp in relief feeling air grace your lungs again as he pulls out to the tip and snaps his hips slowly sliding his cock back inside you bob your head looking up at him before he can move his hips swirling your tongue around the shaft, teasing a thick vein that runs up the side. The sounds of Jake’s moans and the slurps of the sloppy blowjob echo in the forest around them. “ fuck wait wait y/n mmph~ ” he growls and yanks your head from his cock with a harsh pull forcing you to look up at him with drool and salty precum coating your mouth ad trailing down “ i don’t want to come in your mouth…..at least not this round” he chuckles

Y/n tail thumped on the floor and hip grinding begging for friction. Jake tilts his head, ears flicking back and smiles “ lay back “ was all he said to you and so you did. He hovers you, pulling you into a hungry kiss. His lips trailing down your skin, you let your head fall back, your body over sensitive from the lack of stimulation sending your body into a touch-starved frenzy shuttering and arching towards his lips as he bites and kisses down your body. He takes a minute as he worships your body to look you over and remember the way you looked at the soft light freckles that adorned your body glittering with the changing shade and sun. “ fuckin’ beautiful fir me “ he purrs nuzzling your hips nipping the skin before his eyes come to your loincloth soaked in your own slick ruined and clung to your cunt. He pressed his nose into your soaked loincloth with the sound of your own sopping wetness invading your ears, making you blush and moan the pressure causing you to gush and roll your hips. He inhales arousal, his tail thumps erratically, ears pressed flat to his skull “make you new one” he grumbles and your eyes widen hearing the subtle sound of his knife cutting through your loincloth and tossing it away. You hiss, feeling that the air hit your soaked cunt, biting your lip squirming. Jake grows fingers gripping your thighs as he holds them open. He runs his fingers over your thick-fold hissing "you are soaked…. bet I could slide all in one go, " he chuckles not waiting for your answer as his hot wet tongue licked your slit from opening to clit his tail thrashing as he tastes your sweet juices. You sob your thighs shaking as you feel his tongue part your opening, exploring inside you as his lips latched onto your clip sucking for a dear life. "Fuck ja-jake….OH fucking god–’ you whine gripping his hair the sweet friction causing the forest above to go hazy in your vision your brain clouded with just him. Your head tilted back your vision, a blurry mess unable to focus on anything, but the feeling of his tongue swirling around your sensitive clit and his two fingers that slid slowly inside your trembling cunt. You let out a sigh; your moan choked off as you arch your back clenching greedily around his fingers.

He groans, his jaw goes a bit slack as he feels his fingers slowly slide inside without any resistance. The walls of your cunt clench around his fingers for dear life, a high-pitched hiss escaping your lips as you hid your face in your arm. “So fucking….. I may not survive.” He murmurs more so to himself than to you. Your hips move on their own, rolling a wave of heat and pleasure rushing up their spines and through their bodies. You whine feeling his arm presses down on her hips, keeping you still. “Greedy little thing…..trying to take it all, ” he teases, hooking his fingers up the pads of his middle and ring finger massage and tease searching. You whine and whimper for more until a strangled squeak left your lips a wave of heat and pleasure ripping through your body, a river of your own juices splashing onto his fingers.. “Fuck right there” you squeal eyes rolling back body already addicted to the feeling. He chuckles “there it is….” He murmurs and gives a mischievous smile before continuing his movements, his lips latching on to your clit, and his tongue tracing shapes over and around your clit with sinful precision that made your toes curl as he abused your g spot. Your back arched your heart racing as you gave it to his mouth. Pleasure rolling through you in waves with each hard suck he gave. “Jake…..fuck….. Oh, ’ You could barely form a sentence as he continued his ears flicking back hearing your sinful moans mix with the wet squelching of your pussy as his fingers stretched and pumped your clenching walls your slick dripping down his wrist.

Y/n could feel the knot in her lower stomach curling tighter as you rolled her hip. Her walls fluttered and clenched as you were slowly coming undone; you tugged his hair by moaning his name into the air, shaking her body. ” You sobs “gonna…. gon-ahhhh–’ You whine, squirming his signal you were going to cum, he looks up his finger replacing his tongue pressing onto her clit, his fingers unrelenting on your g spot. A dangerous grin on his face “that’s it a baby girl cum for me... Let go~’ he grows panting, his voice strained, holding back his own pleasure for your own. He kisses and nips at the junction where your thigh meets your hip before latching back to a sensitive clit. Your eyes roll back as the cord breaks the heat rising through your body and crashes over you, screaming his name back arching legs shuddering around his head as white stars fill your vision. Your pussy gushes flooding his mouth with your juices, he greedily drinks, savoring your sweetness. “Good fuckin girl for me” he grunts in your pussy.

He pulled his fingers away, kissing the Clit before sucking his fingers clean. He watches you pant your eyes unfocused and glazes over a blissful smile on her face. You pant slowly coming down the blood flooding your ears, as your heart raced in your chest. You felt a hand on your cheek tapping softly “ don’t fade away just yet pretty girl.” He purrs in your ear, flicking to his soothing voice and grounding you slowly. Jake crawled over you, placing your legs over his shoulders and leaned forward. He tangled his fingers in your hair on either side of your head, gripping as your forehead touched. In a very intimate pose, the length of his cock lying pressed between the slick puffy folds throbbing with need as a precum drooled from the tip of his cook pooling on the lower stomach. Your heart leaped tail thrashing as your body knew ‘ mating press mating press.’ He groans and slips his braid over his shoulder, holding his neural queue in his fist the silent question his hips moving back and forth sliding in between her slickfold grunting his breath quivering as he stared at you his ears pressing flat to his skull as the tip of his cock pressed and nudges your clit. You slowly find your braid and hold it up looking at him for an entire conversation just through your eyes. He watched the tendrils wriggle and writhe anxious to connect to make the bond when they did everything come crashing in. Y/n could feel his lust, desire, restraint hanging by a thread, and love turned obsession pulsing through his body. He grows rolling and grinding his hips, sliding his cock over your pussy coating in your juices. A sob of frustration as his head hit your clit four times.

He pressed open mouth kissing up his fingers gripping near her scalp, licking the front of her neck, and quivering with the need to break with strain. “Can i fuck you….” He murmurs into your skin, his sharp canines grazing over your shoulder, and watering as he wants to bite so hard. “Please” he growls his hips shuddering. You nod whimpering bucking your hips desperate for him to thrust inside “words baby” he murmurs his movements unchanging even in his desperate state he’d make sure you were starved “fuck me jake….. ruin me” you beg.

Y/n's heart races with anticipation as you feel the tip press and prod at your opening heart soaring, your body finally gets what it wants. He growls gripping your hair “ well when you beg like that dirty how can i resist but i'm not going to hold back…but you knew that didnt you when you spent teasing me” he growl and snarls letting the little restraint he had go and dropped his hips sinking his thick hard cock into your awaiting cunt with no resistance. You squeal your walls clenching around him tightly, fingers gripping his waist as you feel him punch the air from your lungs with a single thrust, and nails scratching into his skin as you try to ground yourself. “ holy fuckin-” he grunts his mouth hanging open his tail curled around your thigh as his ears press back overwhelmed by the feeling as he felt you through the bond. “Your are….. Tight, greedy little cunt sucking me in” he pants peppering kisses on your skin wherever his lips could reach trying to let you adjust, but that was easier said than done.

You felt his hips moved, grinding right on your cervix, sending delicious shocks of pleasure up your spine. The mating press left you to the mercy of his whim a thought that made your pussy walls clench in delight pulling a deep groan from Jake “nnnnghhhh~ uuhhhhhh~ fuck clenching around me like that” he buries his face into your neck and lifts his hips up his cock. Scrapping deliciously over your g spot until only the tip remained, he dropped his hips again slamming hard into you. Eyes rolling back you scream as the thick head of his cock hits your cervix. He curses “sucking me in so tightly fuck y/n I don’t think i can hold back.” He begins to thrust, dropping his hips and lipping out from your greedy cunt with little control, his mind going into a feral autopilot giving into the sweet pleasure crashing through him. You moan out tears streaming down your cheeks in pleasure as your nails dig into his waist, leaving red welts as you arched her back her chest and stomach pressing to his hiss, forcing his hips deeper. He grows speeding up his movements slamming into you, with reckless abandon lost in the feeling of your tight clenching walls and your sweet moans filling the air. “Mine. All. Fuckin’. Mine.” He growl out of each word punctuated by deep thrust. A sinful mix of your moans and the sloppy sounds of skin hitting skin filling the air around them in a sweet song that only spurred deeper into the pit of lust, Jake trapped you in. Your walls clench greedily around his shaft coating him in your juices. He observed that the thick white ring of cream wrapped around the base of his cock “fuck i guessed you were a dirty little slut by the way you looked at me, but this is much better. He growls rolling his hips as he picked up his pace his fingers, finding your clit again smirking as he watched you scream and writhe under him.

You shake and sob the tears streaming down your face, the pleasure overwhelming as he covers your lips with his own swallowing your pleas and sobs of pleasure as he toyed with your clit “more” you beg desperate for another release. He grins “ I like when you beg like that.. If that is what you want, then I am going to shape you to me, ” he nips your ear and snaps his hips down his pace bruising your cervix as he plows into your squelching cunt leaking and pouring juices, soaking not only the forest floor but also his cock. His words a satisfying promise, as her cunt refused to let him go sucking him deeper with each thrust milking him for the one thing her body craved his thick hot cum. “Mine baby girl say it who do you belong to” he hisses the brutal pace making the coil in your stomach only squeeze tighter and tighter “you Jake, m’ yours, own me” you beg crying unable to hold back.

Your second orgasam hits like a brick wall; your pussy walls quivering and fluttering before letting go. His name leaves your raw throat screaming, as he fucks you through your orgasam. “ there we go that’s it let it go… goood fucking… oh fuuck” he growls praising her cut off by what happened next he could only watch. You feel an uncontrable tingle as he fucks you through your orgasam and you squeal shaking as a hot sensation rips through you, and the sound of liquid gushing and spraying fills your ears, feeling it splash coating the forest floor your thighs and Jake’s cock. He chuckles in a lust filled admiration “she’s a squirter slutty little thing I am so glad I made you mine.” He slams back into you without warning of the pain of overstimulation mqking you scream, but it was a good pain. “ Now it my turn” he growls, keeping his brutal pace growling and moaning in your ear chasing his own release. “ you’re mine y/n…say it who do you belong to” he demands. You cling to his arms around his neck as he slams and rolls his hips into yours; his movements become sloppy with his ragged breathing, and he is close. You roll your hips against his not knowing; in your words, you would push him over the edge. “ cum inside ... .I want it ... . Please beg licking a long stripe up his neck and groan his hips snapping down harder. yeah, you want it baby for me to fill you. M’ gonna give you a baby okay" He rambles “all round f'me, all mine. He rambles “all round fir me all mine…. Fuck… fu-fuck shit”. He growls slamming 3 good rough times before sinking deep and releasing inside you as he bit into your neck drawing blood and licking the wound.

You gasp pulling him into a kiss panting for air looking up at him with wide glazed over eyes biting her bottom lip giggling in sex drunk happiness, as his bite ripped another orgasam through your body. He chuckles and kisses her deeply as they both descend from their high. He smiles looking down at her “im not letting you go now baby girl not when i spent this long wanting you… you made it hard” he nuzzles you before slowly pulling out of your tired limp body’s and pulling you into his arms. “I nearly took you in front of the village” he murmurs to himself

You snuggle deep into his chest humming “ m’sorry” you murmur tired. He chuckles hearing your fatigue “s’kay I have you now and we can make up for lost time”, ’ he chuckles kissing you again letting you rest for now anyway.

Hope you enjoyed feed back is welcome and let me know if you want to be tagged in the next fic. Xoxo

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luv4healy · 6 months

Text

COME DOWN SOON!

★ word count: 890

★ note: inspired by lizzy mcalpines’ come down soon

★ no warnings! was proofread and edited :)

★ posted from my ao3!

“Isn’t April supposed to be warm?” Matty squints, exiting the bar with a heightened expression.

He’s right, it’s rather chilly. The wind is aggressive and does everything it can to make itself known. We exit the bar together, the lights surrounding us for a short, sweet moment before making our way down the sidewalk. I observe as his curls dance, bouncing with each movement he makes. His hands were covered by his jacket sleeves, a few fingers visible from underneath the fabric. I giggle, allowing my hand to intertwine with his. I can feel the stitching of his sleeve against my skin, resting over my knuckles. “I don’t know,” I say, “sometimes the beginning of April starts rather nasty.”

“Well, I fucking hate it. We could use the sun,” he curses. I watch as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket with his free hand, sticking it between his lips and fiddling with the lighter. He can’t strike it due to the wind, which annoys him to the greatest extent.

I run a hand through my hair, but it’s no use. The wind is against me, too. Matty fumbles with the lighter, his thumb gliding across the metal. “Do you need some help?” I say as my lips curl into a smirk. He shakes his head, covering the tip of the lighter with his hand to protect the flame. The orange and red of the fire highlight his face, and for a split second, I can make out details I’ve never seen before.

As he pulls his hand away, the glow disappears. I frown, and he notices, looking towards me as smoke emits from his cigarette. “What’s that face for? You were smiley beforehand.” He leads us down the sidewalk. The city lights grow dimmer with each step we take together.

“I don’t know,” I shrug as we walk. “I like being able to notice things about you.”

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, his thumb drawing circles along my hand as he holds onto it.

“Well, I don’t particularly like it when you smoke, but I like watching the lighter and how it shines against your face,” I smile. “Is that strange?”

The way I had worded that sounded closely related to an album title. Thinking about it brought a sense of familiarity and sweetness, a reminder that I’d forever be surrounded by Matty no matter where I wound up.

We continue to stroll, the wind hassling us with each stride. Once at the end of the street, Matty pauses and steps in front of me, taking both of my hands into his own.

“No, not at all,” he murmurs. “It’s quite sweet.”

“Yeah?” I look up at him with wide eyes, the visible streetlights sparkling and hovering over us.

“Yeah,” his voice is soft. He scoops into his words while speaking to me, his accent audible. “You’re the first person I’ve met who's obsessed with details like that.”

“I like being attentive,” I exhale.

He laughs, the emotion behind it not at all overwhelming. He squeezes my hands before letting them go, his fingertips trailing up my arms. Despite the nastiest weather that entered at the beginning of April, my sleeves are nonexistent. The hair on my arms prickled up at the breeze, Matty’s nails gently tracing over the goosebumps that appeared.

“Cold?” He asks, making more conversation as we stand. His fingers dance along my waist.

I nod. “A little, it’s okay.”

He whispers. “Do you want my jacket?”

I shake my head. “No, you keep it.”

He ignores me, removing his hands from my waist so he can take off his jacket. He drapes the fabric over my shoulders, noticing how poorly it fits. I laugh as I stick my arms through the sleeves.

“Better?” Smoke pools out of his mouth from the cigarette. He takes it between his fingers and finishes it off, throwing the butt onto the street.

I nod, fixing my hair as the wind calms down. “Better,” I reply.

He cups my face with his palms, the skin rough from guitar calluses. They are cold from the weather, his fingers drumming along my cheeks. I smile as he tilts my head upwards. He is studying me and taking in every detail visible to him. I’ve never noticed him so enamored before. There is a subtle quietness that washes over us. We should keep walking before it gets too late, but we stand here in the freezing cold, wondering who will kiss who first.

“I’m in love with you,” he breaks the silence.

“I know,” is all I say in response.

He connects his lips to mine, his dark brown eyes fluttering closed as he kisses me softly. He does not appear gentle to the public, but I know his touch and his focus better than anyone could. His fingers circle over every area of skin visible, holding me as if I could break if he isn’t careful. I raise my arms and feel the sleeves of his jacket pull downwards, my hands resting on his chest as he pulls his lips away from mine and tucks a few strands of hair behind my ears.

“Let’s go home?” He says once more, looking at me with newfound admiration.

Giddy, I grin. I can taste the cigarette smoke. “Let's,” I agree full-heartedly.

#the 1975 #original character #still at their very best #matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #matty healy fanfiction #older by lizzy mcalpine #ao3 fanfic #yearnposting #come down soon by lizzy mcalpine #era: bfiafl

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alienaiver · 8 months

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Rotisserie Chicken

Suna Rintarou x gn!reader

warnings: none! this is pure fluff wordcount: 1.2k content: fluff, SFW, genderneutral reader, bodypositive and poc friendly reader, domestic fluff, established relationship, post-timeskip, canon compliant, not beta'd, youre married and pretty handy in regards to like. building stuff LMAO, light humor and banter, no use of y/n, i googled rotisserie chicken a thousand times to make sure i spelled it correctly. it looks wrong no matter what i do

notes: this is part four of my domestic life with suna series! i should really make a masterpost actually. anyways, your 10 year old bed that you lovingly bought together at the start of the relationship is creaking; you fix it. suna has his thoughts and secrets are uncovered!

go to part 1, 2, 3 (but can be read as a stand-alone)

Suna walks into your bedroom with a cold bottle of tea in his hand and his phone in the other, eyeing you for only a moment before throwing himself onto the recliner in the corner. You’ve been forced to take PTO days before they expire and so the recliner, dubbed the Laundry Chair, is actually available to sit on. Suna doesn’t hesitate.

Silently, he lifts his phone to stare into the screen again, making a point out of not commenting on your work. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees you popping up from behind the bed frame to see if he’s looking at you. When he isn’t, you pop back down and fiddle with the screws. Profanities have been said because your small power drill hasn’t been charged over night like you planned yesterday (you forgot to turn on the outlet itself before joining Suna on the couch for a late night Netflix evening).

He knows that you’re hoping for an offer of his drink but he’s as stubborn as you are; you’re fully capable of asking, he reasons. You grumble out some more words before you turn to the next screw. He bites the bullet, “why, oh, why has the mattress been lifted from my perfectly functioning bed?”

The way your head rises up and your smile beaming has him rolling his eyes already, “I’m just tightening the screws. The creaking is making me insane.”

“Oh?” he says, unscrewing his bottle, “I find the clown bicycle honks kinda hot when you do your half-hourly rotating.”

You narrow your eyes but before you can speak he continues, “I wonder who would’ve been correct in saying that IKEA furniture that’s been disassembled before is shit. Who could’ve saved us the trouble?” He looks to the ceiling and around the room before his eyes lands directly on yours, “that’s right. Me.” he says dryly, challenging you with a raised eyebrow.

You snort before you turn back to your task at hand, the mattress balanced hazardously up against the walk-in closet that’s currently half-open. Not a dangerous thing at all, no, he observes to himself.

After a moment of silence you forego his scolding and ask, “what the hell do you mean half-hourly rotating? Who does that?”

He scrolls social media as he chuckles, "you. You do that. Like a little rotisserie chicken but instead it’s all natural, no electrical wires needed.”

The wide stare you give him is enough to make him crack a smile, eyes still theatrically trained on his screen. “Is that why I’m called rotisserie chicken on your fucking phone!?”

Bingo. Suna sits up straighter with as neutral a smile as possible, stretching his arms above him, “of course. Everyone knows I call you that.”

“Everyone!?” you shriek, completely forgetting about the screws that urgently needed tightening only a few short minutes ago. Suna groans from the stretch, “yeah, my boss ate it up.”

“Your boss? Who, the trainer? The physiotherapist?” you ask with a laugh spilling from your mouth; unbelieving but at the same time awed that Suna talks to someone about you. Those are useless details to share.

“No, the bald guy who sponsors the team. The one who loves hugging you when you stop by practice and matches.”

You make a grimace at the memory. He’s truly a kind, middle-aged man but he is very touchy-feel and while you don’t mind a hug once in a while even from acquaintances, it is shrewd how many he tries to squeeze in there. Then, you shake your head at your husband, “you’re unbelievable you know that, right?”

You pretend to throw the screwdriver in his direction and he mock-dodges to the left and wipes his brow in relief when he successfully avoids the sharp object, “what is unbelievable is the fact that we brought the bed from our first apartment to our house. I feel like we deserve something to go with the rest.”

You grunt as you reach a screw that no matter how much you tighten it, it seems to go loose. You realize it’s not even the same as the others on this metal… thingy. “Rin…” you say and it sounds like a warning. Suna’s muscles tightens for a moment, “why is this screw different from the rest?”

he gulps loudly. He’d forgotten about it; spent so long hoping you’d never notice (or that the bed wouldn’t fall apart underneath you) that it disappeared into the back of his mind. He gets up to take a look as if he can’t imagine the exact screw you’re fiddling with.

“Oh, that one,” he tries to say breezily, hoping casual will be the correct path to take. You look up at him when you realize that he knows something; he shoots a picture of you instead before he continues, “uh, we couldn’t find the screw so Atsumu just put that one in, saying it was the right girth.”

Your eyebrows shoot to your forehead in such a speed that Suna’s sad he didn’t capture it on video, spluttering out incomprehensible sounds that might’ve been words, accidentally spitting on the floor in your vigor. Probably something about different screws having different purposes. Then, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, “and why didn’t you just call for me? I was right downstairs when you and Osamu assembled the bed! Why did Atsumu suddenly help you?”

Suna avoids your gaze by looking pointedly out the window; snow was falling and staying. Winter would be cold this year.

“Suna Rintarou,” you say sharply and a shiver runs up his spine. You enjoy seeing the reaction. He deflates, “you were sitting with my nephew who’d gotten hurt. I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You warm at his confession. His nephew had gotten hurt, running around as family and friends were carrying furniture and boxes into the newly bought house; a box he’d been curious about had fallen over him. All it needed was a kiss and a band-aid and he’d been fine, but you had sat with him and sang until he calmed down. You even think you scolded the box together with him.

You shake your head, “well I guess this screw has been holding out. We’ll just continue using it then.”

Suna rolls his eyes, “why don’t we just buy a new bed?” the question makes you laugh, “we have one that works perfectly fine, don’t we? We even upgraded the mattress when you first got on the National team!”

Suna rolls his eyes, “next time the clown bike’s back, I’m buying us a new bed.”

You give him a thumbs up before you crawl out from the frame, “yeah, yeah. Now put the mattress back with me, will you?”

“Sure, Tjiken.” he says with a sly smile. It’s the nickname his niece once started calling you out of nowhere. Your eyes widen and mouth drops open in an ‘o’ shape as you realize.

“Is my cute, familial nickname a child abbreviation of the word chicken!?”

He can’t tell if you find it funny that his whole family’s calling you chicken, or if you’re slightly horrified. Personally, he’s amused that you’re finally learning the truth that’s been common knowledge among his family members.

He can’t wait to start his own family with you someday, hopefully soon. Then, he’d find an equally silly name and teach your child to call you that. His eyes twinkle with excitement at the thought that you might do it back, too.

#suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x you #suna rintarou x you #haikyuu fluff #suna rintarou fluff #nohr.writing #nohr.hq #DHJASKDA AS A WARNING IVE HAD A MASSIVE PAIN DAY SO I CANT TELL IF THIS IS ENTIRELY COHERENT

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gogovia · 21 days

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introducing my touchstarved alchemist!oc,,,,,

Gogo!!!!

(more info below the cut ૮₍˶ᵔ ❥ ᵔ˶₎ა)

(concept art of him at the lower right corner!!)

she/him - genderfluid - forever loyal to his mentor and could never see her in a horrible light 😔

(-@-⑉)ᶻᶻ

just your average apple loving freak, dont mind her <3

- MASSIVE alchemy and psychology nerd (no, somehow she doesnt see through leander that well. though she does read the others very well.)

- loves apples because she thought they had the most useful nutrients for her potions

- speaking of potions, he carries around potions and chemicals when she needs them!!

- has the deepest eyes known to man (and they say the eyes are windows to the soul.)

- trying to make the best out of situations

- has insane luck

- experimented her curse on non-human beings before, therefore having some sort of combat and defense system established

- a good people reader and observer! takes mental notes of what people like to see so she can reflect it on his being so she could gain their trust.

- could probably a detective if it wasnt for the curse

- driven by motivation and would beat himself up everytime she missed a detail

will probably do a “what do you think of [name]?” post sooooonn…. maybe even draw up the relationship chart and signature flower once i fix my ipad </33 (his signature flower is a peony!!!!)

#touchstarved vn #touchstarved oc #touchstarved mc #tn #artists on tumblr #oc #oc art #i love my freaky girl <3

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onewmin · 1 year

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the perfume on the shelf. pt. 4 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, descriptions of blood and gore, profanity, mental issues, angst, clichés, typos, the reader’s confused about everything. Everything's described from the reader's pov, so if you don't get something or the narration seems blurred - that's the purpose lol

Author’s note: it took me long to finish this part, idk why. The way the story develops may seem too slow, but that's the goal, actually. And I'm a fan of slow narration, so it is what it is. Next part will be more action-packed, I swear 🫣 Hope you enjoy!! tell me what you think <3

P.S. I’m still taking requests for the taglist, so if you want to be on it, hmu 😙

Part 3 | Part 5

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Having said rushed goodbyes to Yugyeom, you flew out of the coffee shop and sprinted in the direction of the hospital. The voice in the back of your head squeaked, scolding you for leaving him in such a manner, but you didn’t really care. He woke up. He was okay.

Despite being out of breath and feeling pain in your legs, you kept on running, as if you had to bolt from the police. Another elevator ride — shit, you should have just taken the stairs — and you were the first one to get out the second it stopped at the necessary floor.

Chan’s parents and Minho weren’t there; you assumed, in the quick observation of the hall, they had either been in the hospital room with him or with the doctor. Whatever.

You stopped only at the room’s entrance, catching your breath. Through a small glass window in the door, you saw Chan, sitting on his bed with the phone in his hands. Alone.

Breathe in, breathe out. You tried to briefly fix your hair, in a desperate attempt to make it less messy from the running. Taking another deep breath, you pushed the door, making your presence visible to him too.

You closed the door and just stood there, gawking at him. He raised his eyes at you, slowly. Holding this eye-contact, your palms started sweating, and you automatically wiped them on your pants, every small action of yours followed by Chan’s gaze.

He hissed, standing up; pressing his hand to his left side, Chan didn’t break the eye contact, staring at you as if he’d been trying to catch every meticulous detail of your face.

Your eyes welled up at the sight of him, physically broken because of you. The guilt that had risen on the day of the accident was the only feeling you didn’t suppress; to be honest, you weren’t able to get rid of her. She was eating you alive, mouth full of blood from your torn apart heart, agonizing you with the blame you had put on yourself. If you hadn’t sent those texts, he wouldn’t have got into the accident. If you had waited for one more day, maybe, just maybe, he would have been okay now.

But he was there. Bandages on his head, bandages on his hands, but he was there. Bruised, broken but alive. Conscious.

The breath was knocked out of your lungs during the next few steps you made. Chan was standing there, still, waiting; your height difference was nothing — just your nose slightly brushing the bridge of his — and your hands cupped his cheeks cautiously. You were so scared to bring him more pain that every move of your body had to be calculated.

Following his gaze, that darted from your eyes to lips, you took a final leap before your jump off the cliff’s edge, a jump you’d be making to finally let your feelings intertwine with his. You were in love with each other, and you both knew it. So you were jumping not into an abyss, you were getting ready to jump into a lake, with warm water, opal sky above it. You were jumping into your personal heaven.

Your mouths collided messily; the salty tears mixing up with Chan’s taste. He might have had something sweet to eat before, so it was even more addictive. You moved your lips carefully, afraid to scare him away. Palms pressed to his cheeks, you felt a hand on your waist. He responded to a kiss, slowly pecking your lips before taking control. His lips were chapped, and you could touch every small bite he’d made just by moving your lips.

Kissing Chan had always been something you craved, craved even more than sex. The first kiss with him was like a first shot of tequila, warmness spreading inside your chest, intoxicating taste pushing you to the brink of dizziness, always desiring and taking more. But this time… It was relieving, needy; it was as if you’d been lying amidst a desert, suffering from drought for years before a teary, salty rain blessed you with another day. You were going to live.

You broke the kiss, fogged up glasses forbidding to see Chan’s face without a blur. He was looking at you, and that was enough.

“I thought I lost you”, you whispered in his lips, hands still on his cheeks. A half-smile from him, a smile you missed so much, a smile that was a drop of water in your endless thirst.

Chan leaned in, his lips brushing over yours; and you were there, parting your lips to taste him again, to kiss him at any possible moment, whenever he felt like it.

But before you could drown in him yet again, Chan pulled away, smile fading.

“Don’t”. His hands were on yours, removing them softly.

“Sorry”, you sniffed, taking your glasses off and wiping them with the hem of your shirt. “You can’t move a lot, and this… This is too much for someone, who…”.

“No”. He sat back down on the bed, eyes scanning you. “Don’t ever do that again”.

What? “What?”

A touch on your shoulder, the one you’d become familiar with lately, slowly pushed you back, tugging, as if he was making you leave the room.

“No”, you brushed Minho’s hand off. “What are you saying?”

Only then you noticed the bore he stared at you with, the exhaustion in his sighs signaling he was already done with the conversation.

Dumbfounded, you stood there, gawking at him and thinking your ears were lying to you. He could not have said that, right? Not right after you two kissed, no. Right?

Lee Know finally managed to take you from the room to the hall, closing the door behind him. Taking you by the hand, he dragged you in the direction of the hospital cafeteria. He pulled the chair, sat you down and ferociously plopped oppositely.

“I have no answers”, he uttered, fingers tapping on the table surface.

“What-“

“No answers”. He repeated. “He’s been like that since the moment he woke up. Grumpy, angry. Made his mom cry. Little shit”, he mumbled.

“I don’t understand, he, uh…” You were staring at your hands, fingers fiddling the ring Chan once gave you. “He-“

“Yeah, I saw”. Minho leaned back on the chair. “He didn’t wake up when I texted you. It happened two hours earlier”.

You raised your eyes, gazing at him. What the fuck?

“One of the things he ‘ordered’ me to do was not to text you. Said he didn’t want to see you”.

“But… But he kissed me back”, you uttered.

“Look”, Lee Know grabbed your hands. “I don’t know what’s going on in his head, really. But I swear”, he squeezed your palms in his, “we’ll find out. He stresses me out too”.

“Did he say… Was he like that to you?”

“Oh yeah”, he huffed. “Said I was too annoying, ‘cause I asked if he was okay. Oh, and said that I worry too much”. Minho leaned back on his chair again. “Can’t believe this asshole”.

“What about his parents?”

“Even a better story here”. Minho turned his head to look out of the window. “Told they could go back to their trip, said he doesn’t need them here”.

“Is he?..”

“What? Got his brain damaged too much? I have no fucking clue”, an exhausted sigh left his mouth. “Shit, sorry, I know I’m not supposed to talk like that, but.. I don’t know. It’s not him”.

You just sat there, gaze focused on the trees outside the building. The wind was blowing through the leaves, the sky had become grey, foretelling the rain in the next few moments.

You did take the leap to jump off the cliff’s edge, however, you didn’t get into the warm water with the opal sky above it; it was a mirage, something you wished to see. In reality, the jump turned into a falling, and your desperate attempts to grab at something didn’t prevent the fatality that expected you. You were falling into the abyss, again. This time, though, you felt like you wouldn’t come back.

“He said something..”, Minho mumbled. “I didn’t pay attention to it at first, but now..”

Your response was to keep looking out of the window.

“He said he was tired of everything. Like it was too much.”

“Are you making this up now just to make me feel better?”

Lee Know huffed, but didn’t answer. You, on the other hand, had no fucking idea what was going on.

“I gotta go”, you stood up, taking the bag in your hands. “I’ll be late to work”.

As you turned around and started walking away, Minho suddenly grabbed you by the hand, forcing you to stop.

“Come at visiting hours later”, he said quietly. “I’ll try to talk to him”. You nodded and left.

Walking out of the hospital, cold raindrops touched your hair. It was supposed to be summer rain, you thought. Now it was cold, sunless and absolutely stupid. Stupid ‘cause you didn’t take an umbrella.

Everything was a blur: your subway ride, a walk to the office, pointy-looking colleagues. The only things echoing in your ears were the stomps you made. As you sat down in front of the computer, all of the sounds disappeared. It was just that annoying shit he said in your head now.

“Don’t ever do that again”.

The fuck, Chan? What the actual fuck?

“Hey”, a cooing voice from outside your head asked. “Are you alright?”

Nodding absentmindedly, you clicked on the file you’d gotten earlier. Just do your job, you can do it automatically. You don’t need to think.

But you were still falling. Falling into the pit, into the abyss; and you had no idea what was there, except for the black, viscous quagmire. A long way down, indeed, as you had still not fallen. You wished you had, though — it would’ve been easier to… To what, actually? What? You were absolutely oblivious to what had happened. What had possessed Chan’s head so that he would change his mind, doing a full 180?

“He’s in love with you”

“Don’t ever do that again”.

A bloody mess inside your head, the Guilt, who was following you around like a shadow, was losing her position, losing her face to… Nothing. There wasn’t anything, but the mixture of every other emotion you could have had. Pain, hurt, anger, confusion, love, pity — you name it.

“Are you okay?” A soft touch on your shoulder — Eunjoo and her questions again. “You have been sitting like that for the past five minutes”.

‘Like that’ was with your hands covering your face, water from the wet hair dripping on the desk.

“I need to use the bathroom”, the urge to run away was overwhelming — for some reason, you couldn’t bear the thought of Eunjoo (or anyone else, for god’s sake) comforting you. It just… Wasn’t you. You never cried or shared your intimate problems with Eunjoo, even though she was you best and only friend, besides Chan. And if the idea of sharing with him, who you’d known for years, was your personal hell — what to say about Eunjoo? It wasn’t like you didn’t trust her; you were just used to friends devaluing your feelings, so while making new ones, you tended to keep your mouth shut.

Who’s interested in my problems anyway? One step forward, two steps back, your therapist stated. You didn’t disagree.

You stood in front of the mirror, hands pressed into the marble surface of the sink; some of the girls, who worked in the building, were chatting in the background. Their high voices and melodic laughs reminded you of birds chirping, but that was another nonsense you used to distract yourself with. The way those girls laughed wasn’t and never would be your main concern. At least, it wasn’t one now.

But it weren’t you if you didn’t think about anything but the fucking elephant in the room.

“Hey”. Eunjoo was there, again: hands on you shoulders, and a concerned look in her eyes, which you could see through the reflection in the mirror. “What happened?”

You shook your head, looking at the sink again, trying to hold back tears. Shit, no matter how much therapy you’d got, showing your emotions to those who cared was still the hardest thing to do.

“Did something happen to Chan?”

Ah shit. Her saying his name broke you eventually. Looking at Eunjoo through the mirror, you shook your head again, tears falling down your face.

“Oh, honey”. She pulled you in, wrapping her hands around your shoulders. Her head on yours, and you collapsed in her arms, tears muffled by her shoulder. She was the first girl friend of yours that saw this side of you. Broken, tired, confused. Everything and all it once.

Your cries eventually fade away, leaving you resting your forehead on Eunjoo’s shoulder and arms wrapped around her waist. You could’ve stayed there until you calmed down, but the smell of her perfume was too suffocating for you to keep on inhaling.

“Oh, you shirt”, you said quietly. “I’m sorry”.

“Do not be”, Eunjoo smiled, hands rushing to cup your cheeks. “I will wear it proudly, because I found out something about my best friend today”.

“What’s that?”

Eunjoo pressed her forehead to yours. “She is not a robot. She is actually a human, who can cry”.

You huffed and smacked her shoulder, turning the water on to make your face look less red from crying. “You’re not funny, you know that?” You mumbled.

“I am very funny. Hilarious, some people say”. She held your hair in a ponytail so that it wouldn’t get wet; before Eunjoo you used to be that friend, who held the hair, made sure everyone got home safely and didn’t get into trouble. Eunjoo was the one to make sure you were okay, too. And in that exact moment, with the two of you standing in the office’s bathroom, Eunjoo giving you paper towels and still keeping her hand on your shoulder — in that moment you realized how much of a great friend she was. It almost made you cry again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You gave her a half-smile. “I’ll tell you at lunch break. Okay?”

After the break, Eunjoo’s gasps, swearings at Chan and advice you felt a bit better. Or worse. Shit, you had no clue what you felt.

“He’s still traumatized from the accident”. Eunjoo said. “Also, I’ve heard that people wha have been in coma have these… weird reactions to things. It is like they have been on the verge of life and death and woke up with different values”.

You kept on chewing on your carrot, nodding to Eunjoo’s words. You didn’t believe in supernatural, or people seeing god while being in coma — but was there another way to explain his behavior?

“Or maybe he is just confused”. She stated, sipping on her coffee. “Imagine you just woke up from an accident and someone is kissing you already”.

“It’s not like he didn’t kiss me back”, you uttered.

“Maybe it was a reflex?”

You let out an annoyed sigh, leaning back on the chair. “Do you have such a reflex, Eunjoo? Do you kiss people back when they kiss you?”

“I meant”, she continued quietly. “A reflex to you. To your actions”.

“Yeah, sure. I’d rather believe he’d met god and he told him to celibate to get into heaven, and that’s why he’s like that”.

Eunjoo sighed. “Has it occurred to you that maybe he really wants to put an end to it?”

You let out a nervous laughter in response to her words. The worst outcome that could be, to be honest. Yes, you were the one to text him, the one who wanted to stop seeing each other. But it wasn’t because you didn’t love him — it was because you loved him too much to take it anymore. And what Minho said…

Yeah, you agreed that Chan was confused. Because, for what other reason would he say such things to you? He had never, ever, been rude to you, and now what? He decided to become an asshole all of a sudden? Didn’t seem like him.

Sitting in front of your computer, you absentmindedly twisted the necklace in your fingers. Your brain was so tired of thinking about Chan that you started wondering how different things could be if you just accepted Yugyeom’s offer many years ago. If you had moved to New York to him, continued your writing career there, lived in a tiny shared apartment… If you had done that, who knows, maybe you’d be much happier now. There would be no Chan, no pain he caused you, and no harm done to him. Maybe the two of you wouldn’t even be friends. Maybe.

Your thoughts darted from the aching images of that unrealistic past you could’ve had with Yugyeom to the dark present you shared with Chan. What your future held was a secret, sealed so carefully you couldn’t even imagine where to start.

“Do you want me to come with you?”, Eunjoo asked while the two of you were walking to the subway.

“No. Minho would be there, so I’ll be okay”.

Lies. You wouldn’t be okay, there was no possible scenario in which you’d feel alright. Though, there was one with a happy ending, however, you didn’t seem to believe it would come true. Your gut was screaming again, completely confident it was yet another jump from the cliff’s edge. Only this time this whole mess should be resolved, so that you could finally end the falling into the abyss or be pulled back. No other options.

Every step from the subway station to the hospital seemed like your last one. What was in Chan’s mind? And, what’s more important, what the hell was going on in yours? Since the very morning you had been dissociating from everything but Chan. Although, you’d feel better dissociating from him too.

He’d made a mess out of you yet again. As if it hadn’t been enough to make you hooked on crumbs of affection he gave you, Chan got you completely fucked up when he rejected you. You tried to chalk that up to his condition, you did; but how bad his concussion had to be to make him behave like that?

Was it your guilt eating you up again?

Every thought in your head was multiplied by two the second you saw Minho sitting near Chan’s hospital room, eyes closed.

“Are you meditating?”

He opened his eyes to give you an exhausted look — the one that made any attempt to joke disappear. Dark circles under his eyes and a pale face, Jesus, when was the last time he got a good night’s sleep?

“I wish”, he replied quietly, rubbing his eyes. “I spent three hours talking to him. Never thought I had this much to say”. Minho chuckled.

“What did you say?”

“A lot”. He stood up to face you. “He’s not the talkative one today. But I think, I convinced him to speak to you too”.

Oh shit. The door handle was never as hot as it was at that moment.

Chan was sitting on the chair, looking at the view through the window. He seemed too bright in the white light of the hospital room, chest rising and falling with every breath he took. The cardigan you knitted a couple of years ago was on his shoulders, making you think that maybe he did still care; he was wearing your gift after all. You remembered how he put it on for the first time, saying it would be his favorite thing to wear. He didn’t wear it much, though. In your vivid imagination there were dreamy thoughts of him keeping it in his drawer, so that it wouldn’t get ripped accidentally — you projected yet another thing on Chan. That he, possibly, cared about you so much, he kept the cardigan you spent three months on far from dirt and dust. You probably were wrong.

“Hey”. You hesitated to move from the door further into the room, scared he’d reject you again.

Chan turned and looked at you; his piercing gaze was burning a hole in your head, and you wondered if you could make it out alive tonight. Physically — yes, but emotionally? Your gut was confident you’d be wrecked after this conversation. Or you were imagining a bad outcome yet again. Nothing had happened yet. Calm down.

“Minho’s lectured me already”.

A cold tone in his voice again. “I’m not here to lecture you. I just wanna talk”.

“Then talk”.

“Chan…” You sighed. “Just… Tell me what’s wrong. I just don’t unders-“

“You texted me, remember?” He slowly stood up. “You said you wanted to end it, remember?”

“Chan, I-“

“How was it that you put it?” He was standing there, just mere inches between you. But your back was glued to the door, and he didn’t move forward from his place near the bed. So close, yet so far. “Oh, right. Whenever you’re around, I just feel more alone”.

You gulped. Shit. “I didn’t mean it like that”.

“D’you think I’m an idiot? What else could you mean?”

“I, uh”, closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, “I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t be… Couldn’t love you anymore, knowing you didn’t… Didn’t feel the same”.

Wow. Actually saying that? Felt like a weight off your shoulders, a weight you’d been carrying for ages. Texting was one thing, but looking into his eyes and deliver the line was somehow phenomenal.

“Why are you here then? Get out if I’m such a horrible person”. A scathing tone of his voice covering up something else, something deeper inside. You couldn’t figure out what.

“Stop it”. You replied firmly. “Turn this bullshit off. Why are you acting like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like someone else”.

“Oh”, you followed every move he made, from narrowing his eyes at you to crackling his knuckles. “So I’m not that desirable when I’m not dancing to your tune?”

He let out a chuckle; you wanted to kill him instantly. Did he really need to be metaphoric to spit poison at you?

“When did you do that?” You didn’t expect the tone of your voice to be so demanding. “When did you dance to my tune, huh? Isn’t it the other way round?”

He sat down on the bed, hands covering his face. You had absolutely no idea of what was going on. Was it all in your head, a hallucination? This whole day, the way he spoke to you, the way he made you feel?

“You were right, we should end it”. He responded to the message you’d sent weeks ago, absolutely ignoring the words you were saying just now. “We won’t work it out”.

“Chan, please”, you didn’t even catch the moment when you got on your knees on the floor beside the bed, “talk to me. Why are you being like this?”

He watched the tears falling down your face and cupped your cheek, wiping them with his thumb. “Because we only hurt each other, tiger”.

“No. It’s not true”.

“It is”, he stammered. “I hurt you with… With all of this mess. I didn’t realize you were in love with me. And I didn’t realize I was in love with you too”.

He laughed nervously. “Minho has told you already, right?”. You nodded, eyes still focused on him. “Knew it”.

“Chan-“

“Let me finish, please”, he answered softly, “I want you to know”. He stopped, taking a deep breath and exhaling — every move still bringing him pain.

“I think, I, uh… I think, we just don’t work. Not like a couple. And we never worked out as friends either”. He drew a breath. “‘Cause I’ve been in love with you the moment we met, I think”.

What?

“It took me long enough to understand it. And when I realized you reciprocated, I, uh, I… I didn’t know what to do. ‘Cause the thrill, it kinda expired, y’know?”

“What are you talking about?”

He sighed again. “You know that… You know that I, uh… Shit, I’ve never said it out loud”, he let out a laugh, fidgeting in his seat. “I like the first steps, ‘getting the girl’ type of thing. And when I get her, it.. It gets boring”.

An arrow pierced through your chest, almost hitting the heart. A painful tingling, followed by a bloody spot appearing on your white shirt. He was merciless in his honesty, wasn’t he?

“When you said you had feelings for me, I wanted to, uh, I wanted to make sure it was true so that I knew what to do next”.

“Do you know now?”

He went silent for a moment. “Yes”. Your heart dropped to your stomach in a desperate attempt to avoid another arrow being shot in its direction. In those seconds of complete silence you prayed to every god to make it all a bad dream. It couldn’t be real. Not with Chan, no.

“And?”

“We need to break up. To stop it all”.

You took a deep breath before standing up to your feet. Looking at Chan, you didn’t notice a slight sign of tears or sorrow on his face — he just observed you, emptiness in his eyes. Every little thing you used to see, the gentleness, the love — it was all gone. Or maybe it was never there. Maybe, probably, you just wanted to see those feelings being there. Could it be possible that he really only wanted you when you didn’t love him? Was he that cruel, to leave you the second you reciprocated?

A tingling in your chest turned into a hole, left by dozens of arrows released into your heart. Every word he said turned into a weapon to kill you. And now inside your rib cage there was nothing but a bloodbath made from what used to be your heart just minutes ago. You could do nothing — even though you wished your tears ricocheted as daggers in response to his ruthlessness.

“You should’ve told me you were like this”. You went poker-faced (so you hoped) and Chan’s face darkened, as if he hadn’t just hurt you in the worst way possible.

“I’m sorry”.

“Sorry won’t fix anything”, was it you speaking? Seemed as if you heard that voice for the first time in your life. “You’re saying this bullshit, but for some reason you questioned, you wondered if your feelings for me were real. If they weren’t, would you run to see me?”

“It’s not the case-“

“Answer me”.

The orotund voice of yours, that neither you nor Chan had heard before, must have startled him, as he glanced at you in shock. Maybe that was the side of the real inner persona you were looking for — demanding, even when hurt. Although, the only thing you craved for was to collapse on the floor and beg him to love you back. Perhaps, if you hadn’t been that pathetic previously, Chan would reciprocate the feelings in the present.

“I already said why I did what I did. I wanted to make sure they were true so that I could end it. I wanted to figure out what I felt”.

“Did you ever stop to think about how I feel?”

A look in his eyes that you managed to catch in those mere seconds was unknown. It was a stranger watching you and shaking his head in response to your words. A man that was once on every mural in the temple of your heart became a stranger in a snap of the fingers.

“You could have just told me. Set a fucking boundary”. You clenched your fists as your voice grew louder. “You could, should have told me you were a heartless piece of shit”.

“You should have seen it coming”, he replied calmly. “You saw how each of my relationships ended”.

You nodded, gulping, forbidding yourself from being vulnerable in front of him ever again. “I was in love with you to foresee you’d treat me the same way. And you were my best friend, after all. I just wanted to be someone you could love”.

“To think”, you continued after picking your bag from the floor, “to think I’ve done so many things, changed so much to get you to love me, and you still… And you still never look my way”. You let out a breathy chuckle, almost losing your face. “Although you did, but only when I didn’t love you, right?”

He sighed. “Please, just… Don’t make a scene. I only told you that to get it off my chest”.

Cruel. Heartless. In your worst nightmares you couldn’t imagine him saying these things. But he did.

“I’m not making anything. I’m fact”, you turned to face the door, “I won’t bother you ever again. You can move onto the next girl to have unrequited feeling for”.

Slamming the door, you almost sprinted to the exit, to avoid talking to Minho, to escape this place you grew accustomed to. You only wanted to be alone.

How could a person change so drastically in mere minutes? Chan you had just talked to wasn’t the one who was as familiar as your own mind. In all those years you’d been friends he had never behaved this way.

“Not to you”, that inner voice of a conspiracy theorist rose from the ashes again. “Don’t forget what he told you about his break up once”.

“I just, uh.. I dunno. It’s like I lose interest whenever a girl falls for me for real”.

Every word now engraved in your mind, engraved there for eternity. The man in that hospital was still Chan, and you were still you too. But now your favourite “friends to lovers” trope turned into dust. In a split second you and him were strangers again, and there was no second chance for the two of you to meet in the writing club once again.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis @amaranth-writing @itstorimf

#bang chan #bang chan imagine #bang chan x female reader #bangchan #bangchan imagine #bangchan imagines #stray kids imagines

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dangans-ur-ronpas · 9 months

Text

Chapter 4

man...mann.........

SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY

Some pre-chapter notes:

Immediately after this chapter Sayaka does her whole thing. I think the timeline here is a little wonky compared to the canon timeline but shh don't worry about that

I'm really tempted to write some stuff from Makoto's POV because I think it'd be funny as hell. Makoto trying his best to take care of this self-righteous rich boy who keeps on insulting him at every turn and insisting he doesn't need or want help, but also won't leave him alone and is making Makoto do stuff for him. It's like he picked up a stray cat that won't stop demanding to be pampered and also bites him sometimes for petting him. Typical normal guy and tsundere type dynamic. You did this to yourself really.

I love the importance of names and stuff when it comes to how people use them. Byakuya calls Makoto by his first name but I headcanon that he refers to Makoto by his last name in his head. In one part using Makoto's first name without honorifics because why would he use honorifics, but also using his last name in his thoughts because that's how he characterizes people, including himself. Until he respects them enough to use their first name in all cases

Content warning tags: more self-deprecating ableist language from Byakuya's part. Nothing extremely detailed or graphic but I'm going to note it here just in case

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Naegi returns eventually, and with a flurry of apologies to explain his delay.

"It's, Sayaka was just feeling a bit scared, so-"

"I don't really care." Byakuya cuts him off bluntly. Whatever they needed to do to comfort each other wasn't his business, and he frankly didn't care to hear about it either. "Just shut up and listen."

He's sitting on the edge of his bed, one ankle resting on the opposite knee with his arms crossed, his back ramrod straight. Naegi shuffles before him, emanating his usual nervous energy.

"Makoto." Naegi twitches, snapping to attention. "What do you know about me."

"Er...what?"

Byakuya feels his eye twitch. "Are you dense? You heard me," He huffs. The impatience that had been building since Naegi left him earlier was working itself up towards a real, genuine anger, and there was a nauseating pulse in his temples. "Tell me what you know about me. Now."

"Um, well..." Naegi clears his throat. "You're Byakuya Togami. And...the Ultimate Affluent Progeny."

"And?"

"And...? And, you've already assumed the role of 'heir' for the Togami family, and started managing some of the businesses...and you have a lot of personal assets, which you achieved by yourself." Naegi hesitates for an instant. "And, um...you're considered really exceptional, even among all the Ultimate students. I mean, I just read this stuff from online, but apparently you're supposed to be one of the smartest people here, and-and a lot of economists and stockbrokers consider you to be defining pillar of the market, though I'm not sure what that means...oh, and-"

"Alright, alright, enough." He waves a hand to shut Naegi up. It was all mindless drivel that Byakuya had heard a million times before, and he covers his face with his palm, feeling a strange combination of irritation by the waste of time and, oddly enough, pleased by the praise. "That's not what I meant."

"Then..."

Did he really need to spell it out? He sighs, exasperated; there was no way to make his point clear unless he says it out loud, it seems, because otherwise the dimwit boy would never understand it. "My eyes, Makoto." He fixes Naegi with a stare, though he can't read any emotion off his face at all. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed anything?"

I know you noticed, he thinks silently, desperately, to himself. There was no way he didn't, no matter how stupid Naegi was, it was his observant nature that first pointed out the irregularity of his eyesight during their first meeting, in front of everyone. And when he directed Byakuya to his dorm room on the first day, and even when he let the young heir hold onto his hood to lead him through the dark hallway. There were too many coincidences. He had to have some kind of inkling, at the least.

"I..." He hears Naegi swallow audibly. "I...did. But I thought, with how you acted, that you didn't want anyone to know?"

Byakuya feels the relief like a weight shedding from his shoulders. His suspicions were right, then. Naegi was as observant as he thought, and even without his eyes, Byakuya had been able to reach the right conclusion. "That's right. But you know, don't you?" He lets his eyes slide shut for a moment. "To try and hide it from you would be pointless at this point. So, tell me how you knew."

"When we first met, I thought there was something wrong with your glasses at first, like the prescription was wrong, because you cleaned them a lot but you were still squinting after you put them on. And, you looked like you couldn't find your room, even though the little pixel icons were pretty clear whose was whose. And when it came to videos, you didn't watch yours, but you only went to grab yours after everyone else." Naegi pauses for a moment. "And...once, while you were in the cafeteria...you were reading a magazine upside-down."

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but when they do, it's accompanied by mortification. Byakuya covers his face again, feeling his cheeks burning underneath his fingers. Had he really put on such an embarrassing display, without even being aware of it? "...Did anyone else notice?"

"It was just me and Sayaka at the time, and Sayaka was the one that pointed it out first." There's a note of sympathy in his voice. "But, she thought that maybe you were just out of it, because you looked really tired...and neither of us told anyone else! And you stopped when people started coming in for lunch, so I don't think anyone else saw."

That was a small blessing. But here he thought he had been so careful...what a disgrace.

"Alright. Putting that aside, I imagine that what happened earlier tonight must have confirmed your suspicions about my sight, am I correct?" A particularly defined piece of Naegi's hair bounces as he nods. "Let me say this right now. I have no intentions of letting this...detriment, of mine, become common knowledge. And even someone as half-brained as you can understand that there will be consequences if your tongue is loose?"

"Half-brai-? Yeah, no, I wasn't planning on telling anyone." Naegi reaches up, the green jut of his elbow bobbing as he scratches his head. "Is it okay if I ask why you don't want anyone to know, though?"

"...Need I remind you of our circumstances?"

"I meant-! Like..." he waves his hands around, trying to find the words. "Like, I don't know. If, hypothetically, we weren't being coerced into trying to murder each other. Would you still tell the others?"

"Probably not." Byakuya replies immediately. Even without threat of a killing game, to bring himself to admit such weakness to them - peers or not - would be downright foolish for one of his stature, regardless of whether it was one of their group who was responsible for the injury in the first place. "We'd still be trapped in here either way, and it's not like any one of us is the Ultimate Opthamologist."

"But...we could help you?" Byakuya feels a sharp pulse of pain in his head, and he clicks his tongue. Naegi's voice grows more hurried. "M-maybe we can't help you fix the problem, but couldn't we find other ways?"

Byakuya can't help the short, mirthless snort that leaves him, as his headache thrums to life again, and he presses fingers to his temple. "Enough. You're even stupider than I thought." He sighs, voice stiff and slightly strained.

He presses a hand over his eyes, enveloping himself in darkness. The coolness of his palm is slightly clammy, and he latches on to the feeling. How nice it must be, to be able to trust people so blindly. He thinks to himself. It was the one luxury he couldn't afford.

"I will compensate you appropriately once we leave here for keeping my secret, but in the meantime I have no more use for you. Leave."

He waits, expecting to hear the sound of clumsy, shuffling footsteps, or the shut of the door, making Naegi's exit. Instead, he receives a quiet, disbelieving: "...Wait, what?"

"Did I not make myself clear? Remove yourself this instant." He repeats again, louder, irked by the disobedience. Usually, people cleared out of his way on his order, whether they were servants or not. But still, there was no movement from the other boy. "What, are you deaf? I said-"

"Yeah, I heard you. But I don't get you at all." He sounds upset, somehow. "You don't want to tell anyone. But I already know, and you don't want...you don't want me to help you, or anything?"

Byakuya snorts, a derisive sound. "What could you possibly help me with?" It wasn't like he was helpless. Today had just had too many unpredictable, stressful elements, which led to this...strained and delicate state. It had been a fluke. Nothing more. He says as much with an air of dismissive confidence, trying to feel as sure of that as he sounded.

"But, I think the days after this are just going to get even worse, right? Kyoko mentioned that the mastermind behind all this probably isn't going to stop giving us motives until something happens." At that, Byakuya clicks his tongue. It was annoying, but he - or rather, Kirigiri - were correct. "I...I can help with some little things, at least. Like I did earlier today?"

Like earlier today. He considers it for a moment; for as annoying and pushy as Naegi had been - forcing him out of his room for some food, clumsily prepared, then leading him back - it hadn't been an entirely unpleasant experience. Naegi was not butler material, that was certain, but he was obedient and seemed to know his place.

In any ordinary situation, Byakuya might have flat-out rejected such a suggestion. It was unbecoming and pathetic to accept offers made out of pity, and foolish to take on partnerships where the odds weren’t in his favor. Makoto was able-bodied, decently observant, and hopelessly bound by human connection - Byakuya was blind and cut off from his wealth and power.

But…there was also no real evidence of Makoto’s intent to kill. He was too caring, it seemed; too hung up on helping others, and easy to read. It would be a risky gamble, but Byakuya had taken more dangerous wagers.

It is only because of my eyes...if not for this, I would have no use for him.

"...I'll consider it." Is all he says instead. For the time being, he was still managing fine on his own. "But let me be clear now on some expectations. When we're around others, I expect you to not be so casual with me."

"Okay, got it."

"I expect you not to reveal anything regarding my condition to anyone, not even that girl you're so intent on fraternizing with."

"W-wait, do you mean Sayaka? I'm not-!"

"And don't overstep your bounds. If I don't ask you to do something, don't do it." The only thing worse than an incapable servant was an overly-presumptuous one. "If you're not sure about something, ask me."

"Can we please go back to what you said earlier?" Naegi asks weakly.

"Your infatuation with Sayaka is obvious, even to me." Byakuya replies bluntly. For a moment, he considers alerting Naegi, letting him know of his own suspicions regarding Maizono, before reconsidering. Saying something like that might jeopardize their newly-established agreement, especially if Byakuya didn't have any real proof to back his claims. "It was quite pathetic, listening to you hang onto her every word like some lost puppy."

He watches pink crawl over Naegi's neck. He's sure the other boy must be making some kind of amusingly mortified face, but it's not one he can make out anyways, so he continues: "On my part, there is not much I can do to compensate you while we're in here, but I won't ask you to kill for me, or lie on my behalf, nor will I ask you to die for me. I have no intentions on relying on anyone in regards to this game that we've been made to participate in." It was rather humiliating to admit it out loud, but it was the truth; there wasn't much he could offer while they were trapped in here. "I will also provide monetary reimbursement for your services once we leave here. Is that an amenable condition? Do you have any other requests?"

It takes the other boy a moment to find his words, likely still stunned from the earlier scathing remarks. "So, you won't ask me to carry out killing for you...would that even work, with the rules of the game?"

"Who knows? But I'm not interested in trying it out. You're not a suitable pawn for that sort of thing, and I don't like leaving dirty work to someone incompetent." There were still too many unknown factors; the rules regarding accomplices, and the extent of Naegi's loyalty. It was better to use the other boy only for what he was offering, and nothing more. "I doubt that the mastermind has any motive that can be used to move me to act recklessly, especially with these conditions. But enough about that - what do you want for serving me?"

"Er...nothing?"

That surprises him. Surely Naegi hadn't forgotten who he was talking to? "Excuse me?"

"There's nothing that I really need right now. I guess the biggest thing I want is for all of us to escape this place safely, but...I didn't offer to help with any intentions in mind. I guess please don't sue me when we get out of here?" He chuckles, a bit awkwardly. "I mean, I won't ask you to, like, kill for me either, or anything like that...I don't want to hurt anyone here."

Really. Even in a game designed for murder and betrayal, here he was nursing this innocent belief that they could all get along peacefully. "Fine then. But don't tell me you'd be satisfied with such paltry conditions? You know I can give you anything you want outside of here? Land? Power?" He quirks an eyebrow up at Naegi's hesitation. "There are even medical procedures that exist to add height to your frame, that would usually be out of reach for someone of your stature."

He can't help the smirk that pulls at his lips as Naegi sputters again, indignant and flustered. "Are you making fun of me?" He asks, suspicious, and Byakuya can imagine him, simple features pinched into a look of uncertainty and embarrassment. This was quite fun, this meaningless teasing; it was pointless, certainly, but it was amusing at least.

"Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?" He rests his chin on his palm, and tilts his head with a languid smile. Naegi fidgets under his gaze, and turns away.

"Um, I don't really...need money, or anything. I'm not doing this for that." Byakuya opens his mouth, about to explain how he was capable of quite literally changing Naegi's meager peasant life, before he was interrupted. "But, you said that you can do anything?"

"Just about anything imaginable."

"Then can I ask you to save my family?"

The question takes him aback a bit, and he blinks. Of course, not everyone was like himself, with such estranged relations, and of course Naegi, with his average background, would have a loving, average family to go with it. He doesn't remember observing Naegi in any particular distress during the showing of the first motive, but then again, he hadn't been paying much attention.

But it wasn't like it was impossible for him. In fact, it'd be far easier for him to hire the private investigators and personnel necessary to carry out the task, than any police force or government. "Fine then. How many people do you need me to save?"

"My parents, and my little sister Komaru." There's a note of relief in his voice. "Komaru should be starting high school this year. My dad's a realtor and my mom works part-time at the hospital-"

"Save it for when we get out of here." He didn't really need to know Naegi's entire life story. Nor did he particularly care. "We'll put this contract to paper when we have a lawyer around, but in the meantime, we'll seal it verbally." He wasn't particularly fond of non-written agreements, but for now he would take what he could get. And he wasn't planning on giving Naegi any reason to disobey him, anyways. "Do you, Makoto Naegi, agree to assist me to the best of your ability and only on my order, and to not disclose any details regarding my current condition to any person, so long as we are within these premises?"

"Yes-? Yes, I do." He says, words fumbling. "Um, I, Makoto Naegi, agree to...to assist you, Byakuya, as best as I can, and without sharing your secret to anyone. As long as we're in these premises."

It was a clumsy paraphrasing of his own words, but an acceptable one. "Fine. Then I, Byakuya Togami, will swear on the Togami name to return your family to you safely, as soon as we-" He pauses. "As soon as I have safely left these premises. And compensate you monetarily for your assistance during this time."

"Wait, you don't need to-?"

"You'd be insulting me to refuse it. Rescuing your family would be a simple thing for me, and you underestimate how much I'm valuing your labor right now." He reaches out and jabs a finger into Naegi's chest. "Right now, you are being asked to be my eyes, more or less. Consider that an honor."

He hears a quiet whoosh, a sharp intake of breath. Maybe the other boy was realizing the weight of what he had offered, and how much Byakuya was relying on him to uphold his side of the agreement. Or maybe he was simply relieved, his family's safety secured.

Whatever the case, Byakuya didn't know, nor did he care to try and interpret it too deeply. He was full, and tired, and ready for bed. "If that's all, then leave. I'm going to sleep."

"Alright. See you tomorrow morning." As he rolls over to lie on his bed, he listens to Naegi’s footsteps padding towards the door behind him, before pausing with the soft creak of the hinges. "Good night, um...sir?

Byakuya snorts, eyes closed. "Just call me as you did before. You're hardly an official servant, so don't get so comfortable." He lifts a hand to wave over his shoulder. "Turn the lights off on the way out."

The quiet flick of the light switch. The faint red behind his eyelids was replaced by black. "Good night, Byakuya."

He listens for the shut of the door. He doesn't say anything back.

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#thpff #thpff chapters #danganronpa fanfiction

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esta-elavaris · 1 year

Text

Fallen Through Time

Part Six [3,845 words]

An AU of my completed, 400k+ word fanfic Catch the Wind [AO3], in which Elizabeth, not James, is the one to discover Theodora Byrne after she crash-lands into the world of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Also now on AO3 (restricted to registered users only thanks to AI mining, sorry!) and FF.net.

Masterpost - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - *Part Six* [you’re here!]

Tag list [let me know if you want to be added!]: @missfronkensteen @dancerinthestorm @teawithshakespeare

It was mere days before James encountered Theodora Byrne again – although this time she appeared in much better shape, with more colour to her face and a great deal less swaying as she stood, and rather than traversing structurally unstable docks, she was in the town square. It was a fair day – sunny, but not stiflingly hot, with a fair breeze that kept winding its way through the settlement – and so there was little risk of her being overcome by the heat, as he suspected she had been last time. James also had to admit that seeing her milling about outside of local establishments made him far less suspicious than her scrutinising the build of the ships at the docks. All in all, it was a much more favourable state of affairs. Or so he thought upon first glance.

Then – to his exasperation – he began to notice the details. Most surprising of all to him was the fact that she could not be blamed for any of the aspects of her current situation that he found distasteful. She stood unmoving as a monument on the street by the jeweller’s shop, her hands folded before her amidst fine skirts of a deep green colour that suited her far more than the white ever had. Her attention was fixed on the thin air before her eyes, and anybody who spared her just the one glance might be forgiven for thinking that she was lost deep in thought – or perhaps merely taking in the town.

A second glance, though, would find the steely set of her jaw, the fact that her knuckles where stark white…and that there were tears in her eyes. Slowing his stride, he looked about – mostly to see if others had noticed, for the last thing the Swanns needed was their guest having a hysterical breakdown in the middle of the street. Instead, he found the source of her tears. Amelia Simmonds and her gaggle of ladies, standing between James and Miss Byrne with their backs turned to him. Their ignorance to his presence could be the only explanation for the words twittering from their mouths.

“She’s not bad looking – I was expecting a savage.”

“Not bad looking?” Amelia scoffed. “Her nose is crooked, her eyes are too far apart and very beady, her lips are too thin, and she has a jaw more befitting a man than a lady.”

It might have been difficult to gather how Miss Simmonds had put together such a thorough assessment with what appeared to be mere minutes of observation, were it not for the fact that none of it was true. Since her arrival, James had hardly been ignorant to the fact that Miss Byrne’s good looks – which were becoming more apparent as she recovered from her misadventure – would only bode ill if she was a malevolent force. Plenty of fools were only too happy to believe that a fair face could conceal nothing ill.

“She’s tall, too, for a woman – and doesn’t carry the height half so well as Miss Swann does.”

“I had noted her poor posture myself,” Amelia replied, a smile in her voice. “Likely earned from a lifetime of shovelling excrement and hauling crops. That’s all her sort is good for – and even so, an ox can do the latter with more proficiency. And grace. You can dress it up in silk, but you can’t hide it.”

“Not with that accent.”

“They should fall on their knees and thank us for ever taking an interest in their miserable little country. How could they manage without the King’s supervision? Instead, here they are, begging once again for our guidance. How the Governor can stand to have one in his home, I’ll never know-”

James could hear no more of this. Whatever his suspicions of Miss Byrne were, they were far from set in stone, and so there was every possibility in his mind that he was currently bearing witness to needless cruelty against a woman who had already been through much. Sighing quietly, he squared his shoulders and comforted himself with the fact that any awkwardness that would soon arise could not match the regret he would feel in his home tonight if he sat back and did nothing.

“Miss Byrne.”

His voice was unnaturally loud and bright even to his own ears – but it did the job. The women fell silent, turning with slack jaws and parting as he strode through their little group and straight towards the one they’d just been picking apart, knowing full well she could hear every word.

It was little wonder that, when she turned and caught sight of him, the stony façade slipped for a moment and clear dread fleeted across her features before she managed to bury it. Given their prior encounters, she likely thought he was here to make it worse.

“Captain Norrington,” she greeted him softly, looking away and blinking furiously in an effort to dispel her upset. “Good afternoon.”

“It pleases me to see you looking so well-recovered. Are you well?”

At that, she forgot her tears and stared at him like he had gone quite mad. In response, he glanced in the side using his eyes only, in the vague direction of the women behind him. She caught on quickly – although she still seemed barely able to believe what was occurring. Their shock, he suspected, was only matched by that of the one standing before him.

“I…yes. Thank you. Yes. I think I tried to push myself a bit too quickly last time, but I feel much recovered now.”

He forced a smile, all too aware of the utter silence that had befallen those behind him. “I can sympathise – I often find it difficult to remain idle. Still, it seems to have done you good.”

“It has. That, and the kindness of the Swanns. They’ve been very generous with me.”

As she spoke, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, nervously looking anywhere but in the direction of the women (nor at him, by extension), almost visibly searching for something else to speak of lest he go racing off and leave him at the mercy of her critics once again.

“And what brings you into town today, might I ask?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back and trying – for the first time in his life – to appear as easy and sociable as Groves.

It didn’t come particularly naturally to him. Nor did he wish it to.

“Fresh air…some window-shopping…and, well, an ill-fated errand.”

His brow furrowed. “You wish to purchase a window?”

A laugh bubbled up and out of her throat at that – and it was difficult to say who was more surprised by it, James or Miss Byrne herself, for she quashed it quickly and he found himself oddly disappointed by that fact.

“Sorry – no. It’s just a turn of phrase.”

It was then that he became aware of the predicament he’d stepped into. He’d entered this small-talk expecting Miss Byrne to use it as a way of excusing herself and slipping away, but she showed now signs of doing so. However, if he said his goodbyes and left her now, as he would have without any outside factors, the chatter would resume. Likely twice as fiercely, at that.

The pragmatic part of him may have been trying to furiously insist that he’d given her ample opportunity to take her leave and that she had not, so her predicament was thusly her own fault. But though her hands had unfurled from the tight fists they’d been in, there was still a distinct sheen to her gaze, and her jaw was clenched so fiercely shut that it was a wonder her teeth had not begun to crack. Could it be that she was so distressed that she hadn’t recognised the exit he was providing her with?

“Perhaps…” he hesitated, and then resigned himself to his fate, “Perhaps I might walk you back to the Governor’s mansion, and you can tell me of this ill-fated errand.”

She blinked at him with wide eyes, and it was of some strange relief to him when he found that she was as reluctant to accept the offer as he had been to give it. In fact, she even seemed tempted to ask if he really meant it. Thankfully, she thought better of it. And then, for better or for worse, and accepted.

“All right. That would be nice – thank you. Maybe I could use the advice of a real Port Royal expert.”

There was no denying she’d piqued his curiosity with that, and so James turned and waited for her to step into place by his side before they would walk. The journey, unfortunately, would take them right alongside the women he’d just all but rescued her from, but James had faced greater perils – and if Miss Byrne’s story was to believed, so had she. He had to admit, however begrudgingly, that he was impressed by how she raised her chin and walked by them as if they hadn’t just come perilously close to driving her to tears. He’d half expected her to brave the steps with her gaze cast downwards and her fingers picking anxiously at the sleeves of her dress.

All the same, once they turned the first corner and were out of sight (and now, likely, a hot topic of discussion), her shoulders dropped a good few inches in relief and she sighed quietly.

“Thank you for that. Really.”

He saw no use in playing coy and pretending he did not know what she meant.

“It was no trouble.”

“It was kind. And it was highly appreciated.”

It was then that James recalled words spoken to him by Governor Swann – as he fought Miss Byrne’s case, following their unfavourable introduction.

It seems to me that Miss Byrne, through circumstances we are not yet aware of, has learned over the course of her life not to expect kindness, nor help. Perhaps not even decency. That is where her words came from, not disrespect. Elizabeth says Miss Byrne ties herself in knots every time we have the servants alter one of my daughter’s dresses so that she can wear them once she is well enough, you know. Hardly the behaviour of one setting out to take what she can and give nothing back. And Elizabeth has a mind to adjust that sad world-view for the better, and I have no mind to dissuade her from that goal – especially not as she herself seems all the happier for it.

James had not the heard to argue with that. Not then, and not now. The Governor had referenced the fact, albeit tactfully, that Elizabeth had not managed to find any kindred spirits among the Port Royal ladies. Given the display he’d just witnessed, James could see why. If Miss Byrne proved to be a remedy to that fact, he could never begrudge her that. So long as Miss Byrne meant no harm. And he had not enough proof of that to be comfortable. Yet.

“You don’t have to walk me back, you know. They can’t see us – I can make the rest of the way on my own.”

“I said that I would,” he said, “And you have not yet told me of this ill-fated errand. I confess myself curious.”

She sighed and continued walking alongside him. At first he thought she meant not to answer at all, but when he glanced at her again he found her frowning at the path ahead, and he could see she was trying to decide where best to begin.

“That sort of thing doesn’t usually get to me,” she said finally. “I don’t usually…cry. It was ridiculous of me, I shouldn’t have gotten upset – I shouldn’t have given them any sort of reaction. It was what they were after.”

James bowed his head, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had unexpectedly taken. “It was understandable.”

“Maybe, but it was also stupid. I’d just been in to see the jeweller, you see.”

“The jeweller?” he frowned.

A strange destination for one who had washed up on their shores with nothing.

“Yes, it’s…”

Trailing off, she sighed once more and then sifted through her skirts in order to find the pockets concealed within. Once found, she reached a hand in and withdrew what looked to be a necklace – and a strange necklace, at that. The chain was thicker than most, with a solid but cleanly cut heart-shaped pendant. It was flat, albeit just slightly thicker than a shilling, with no engravings or jewels adorning it. Still, simplistic or no, it was fine. Surprisingly fine. And were it a souvenir from past misdeeds, he doubted she’d be so foolish as to needlessly showcase it around Port Royal.

“May I?” he asked.

She handed it to him. Reluctantly. James was almost tempted to be amused by that – what did she think? That he would abscond with it? Or send it hurtling into the bushes? She trusted him enough, at least, to comply. He could work with that.

“This is all I have from home,” she explained. “It was a birthday gift from my father a few years ago. Elizabeth is very taken with it, she says she’s never seen anything similar around here. And you have to understand, when I eat it’s from their kitchen, when I dress it’s from Elizabeth’s wardrobe, when I sleep it’s under their roof, when I needed a doctor it was them that paid the bill, and I…I have nothing. I have no way to show my thanks in a way that could ever be sufficient.”

Seeing that she was far from finished, James handed her the necklace back wordlessly. She accepted it quickly, holding it tightly in her fist as she brought it to her chest in a way that didn’t seem entirely deliberate.

“If it wasn’t so sentimental, I’d give her it in a heartbeat. But it was from my father, and I don’t know if…well.”

A moment was needed, then, for her to collect herself.

“Miss Swann would never knowingly accept it, given all that you have said of it, if indeed she knows how much it means to you,” he said – aware of how the awkwardness seeped into his voice.

“I know that. And it wouldn’t be much of a thank-you gift if she’d only feel guilty once she knew all of the facts. So I went to the jeweller today – I had a few coins from home and I knew that even if they weren’t valued as money, they might be worth something. He pretty much laughed in my face and told me it would barely be enough to make a necklace of tin. Elizabeth doesn’t seem like a tin kind of lady. Offering her nothing would be better than offering her that.”

“I’m sure she would appreciate the gesture, if nothing else.”

“Of course she would, she’d be very kind about it, but that would just make it even more embarrassing. Like when a child makes something and you pretend it’s a masterpiece in order to please them.”

James snorted, watching with curiosity as she opened up her palm again and frowned down at the necklace.

“Maybe I should just give her it,” she sighed quietly. “It’s only a thing. My dad would laugh if he saw how much sentimental value I was putting on it.”

Something in that statement gave him pause. Could it be that she truly was the daughter of a soldier, then? How often had it been hammered into his men (and James himself, too, when he was a lad) not to place too much sentimental value on things. Things, after all, could be all to easily lost in the heat of battle – particularly when that battle was at sea. Even more foolish than falling apart over it was to risk one’s life to try and retrieve it before the ship went down. It seemed a strange mindset for a man to pass down onto his daughter, but James could not pretend he was blind to the logic in it.

“The choice is yours. However…I would caution you against it.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, and then seemed to give herself a shake. “Yes. You’re probably right. Anyway, the jeweller wasn’t particularly kind about the whole thing – so I was grappling with the disappointment, the embarrassment of being treated like the world’s biggest imbecile, and then…that. And worse, I couldn’t even say anything in my defence because the last thing the Swanns need is their guest starting arguments in the streets. I’d just be giving those women what they wanted – and you know when they recounted their version of events, they’d conveniently leave out the provocation that preceded it.”

A surprising amount of eloquence from one who purported to have such humble origins. It was of some small relief that he noted that it was hardly the speech of a pirate, either.

“Why not leave?”

“I didn’t want ‘em to think they’d run me off.”

“And so your solution was to stand there and silently listen to it all.”

“Well, when you put it like that it doesn’t sound like the masterplan I believed it to be.”

James laughed. Just a little one, but he couldn’t help it – there was something oddly disarming about her humour that caught him off-guard. When he didn’t have cause to find it tiresome.

“I’m sorry you got roped into it,” she added.

“There are a number of people who should be offering their apologies for what just took place. You are not among them.”

She nodded and offered a weary smile – although she may not have agreed, based on the fact that she said no more. There was still much of the walk to continue on with, thus far they had barely left the town behind them, progressing onto the dirt roads that the carriages used by those who lived further up the settlement. The quiet, at least, and the relative lack of eyes on them, gave James an opportunity to think.

Apparently, he took so long in doing so that he dragged her out of whatever thought she was lost in when he spoke again.

“The blacksmith.”

“Sorry?”

“The blacksmith – or, rather, his apprentice. Not Mr Brown.”

“Will- er, William Turner, isn’t it?”

“The very one. You know of him?”

“I’ve heard of him. We’ve never met.”

Uneasiness flitted through James at that, and he found himself hoping that she knew of him because of the similarities in their coming to Port Royal, and not because Elizabeth had taken to speaking of him often.

“He may be able to help you.”

“A blacksmith?” she asked doubtfully.

“Think of the craftsmanship that goes into all of the elements of a sword’s hilt. And a scabbard, oftentimes. Mr Turner is…well, he may be swayed. Should you bring him your coins and your tale of woe.”

“My tale of woe?”

James snorted at the sheer disgust that laced her tone. “For lack of less melodramatic phrasing. Although melodrama is what I’m recommending, on this sole occasion.”

“I’ll practise my blubbering.”

“You did not get the idea from me, should anyone ask.”

“Of course not. Thank you.”

They lapsed into silence then, and he was relieved to find that she didn’t rush to fill it with inane chatter about the weather, or the walk itself. Nor of the eyes that seemed to follow them from behind the windows of the few carriages that rumbled by them. They drew fairly near to the Governor’s mansion when she next spoke.

“I’m not keeping you from your work, am I?”

“No, I was at lunch.”

“That’s worse, I think.”

“I do not ordinarily take it – I use the time to go walking instead, and so the time was spent as it ordinarily might be.”

Even if it was with a touch more awkwardness and sociability than he’d usually opt for. Lunch was usually a break from people, but it seemed she was already grappling with the temptation to apologise again and so he disguised that fact. In any case, if she began warming up to him, he’d be more likely to learn more about her. Such would not be the case if he heaped guilt upon awkwardness.

“Don’t they say an army marches on its stomach?” she asked instead.

“They do. Thankfully I am in the navy, and so I sail in place of marching.”

She laughed quietly – a sound that was surprisingly soft and warm. “Touché.”

By then they were at the gates that would lead up to the Governor’s mansion, and James had already begun to slow when Miss Byrne stopped.

“If I can ask one more thing of you, Captain…” she hesitated, and James felt warier than he would show. “If you wouldn’t mind not telling Elizabeth – or Governor Swann, for that matter – about this, here, today. With the women. They’d…she’d want to do something. Or say something. I don’t want to bother her with it. She’s done enough for me, and it’s only as big a thing as I make of it, you know?”

James considered it a moment, and then he sighed. “Very well.”

He had to concede that she had a point – and the smile he was rewarded with was not half to weary as the others, almost as bright as the hair that blazed atop her head in the warm afternoon sun.

“Great. Thank you. Really – you’ve been an utter legend today. I know we got off on a questionable foot, so I appreciate your stepping in all the same. And the advice.”

I suppose I found her rather charming. That was what Groves had said, was it not? He supposed he could see why – but much of it was lost beneath the endless questions that surrounded her. More still, now that he’d seen her necklace, spoken properly with her, and begun to suspect that she really had been speaking truthfully when she claimed she was able to read.

Thankfully, he was a resourceful man. Answers, he did not doubt, would follow suit. He would see it so.

Notes: What’s this?? Amiability? Chivalry? Don’t worry, it won’t last. I know we haven’t seen Elizabeth for a bit, too, but fear not – she’ll return with a bang in the next chapter! She was originally going to be in this one, but the length was getting on a bit anyway, and the scene works better if I slot it into the next one, anyway.

As far as the status of Ireland and England as far as this time period is concerned, here is what Wikipedia says – “During this time, Ireland was nominally an autonomous Kingdom with its own Parliament; in actuality it was a client state controlled by the King of Great Britain and supervised by his cabinet in London.” So while not officially under control of England, I find it feasible to think it would be common enough knowledge for the likes of Port Royal’s upper crust to comment on it.

#catch the wind #ctw #james/theodora #james and theodora #fallen through time esta-elavaris #ftt #james norrington/oc #james norrington x oc #pirates of the caribbean fanfic #pirates of the caribbean fanfiction #james norrington fanfic #james norrington fanfiction

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mikoyamisheadcanonblog · 1 year

Text

💛 Law and Ash Q & A (2)💜

💛 Who is the Cuddler 💜

Both are but Ash is the cuddler, she is unaware and only person who is aware of it is those who share the bed with her. Law would wrap her up in blankets in the bed they share and hold her close when she is asleep while she clings to him. Alone those two are touch starved and will cuddle on the couch or bed, Ash humming a soft tune from the north while Law traces small circles on her back. When surrounded by people both can sense when the other needs a simple touch, a brush of a hand, or standing close to one another till in private where they let their walls down and hug one another clearing their minds from all the trouble and fears they have, then acting nothing had happened.

💛Who makes the bed 💜

Neither, Law will from time to time fix the bed but he usually gets up and leaves the bed and one of his crew usually Bepo would come and fix the bed for him for the night. Or sleeping on the couch or at his desk leaving his bed untouched. He does fix his bed with new sheets when needed. He got into a better habit of sleeping on the bed when Ash joins him in his room but still, both are bad at fixing the bed.

💛Who wakes up first 💜

Law, suffering from insomnia would usually wake up long before Ash. He will say in bed holding her in his arms taking her warmth, listening to her steading her breathing as he gets himself ready for the day. His mind running through what he had to do all the information he gathered during the day, his fingers running through Ash’s hair. Eventually, he will leave the bed and start his long day of work leaving Ash to sleep

💛Who has the weirdest taste of music 💜

I think both do. Law listen’s to mostly jazz in the background while working sometimes he will listen to an unknown band he found in his travel he claims has a unique taste. He will sometimes ask Ash her opinion on the music to better understand it. Ash's weird taste comes from basically a mix match of styles while she can listen to almost anything. She mostly listens to symphonies/orchestras. Her guilty pleasure is K-pop, mostly boy bands. She will deny her interest but she can go into small details about the boys and their interests and what the music means

💛Who is more protective 💜

Law is more protective of Ash, he finds her secret treasure he has to protect. He already lost so many loved ones in his life and wishes to protect the ones he cares deeply about. Ash doesn’t have a Devil Fruit and still learning some observation Haki and hasn’t mastered it. While she is good at fighting and handling herself (Getting in and out of trouble) there are still powerful people on the Grandline and he will only know she is safe if she joins his crew. There is also a deeper issue that Ash is more willing to self-sacrifice herself to help innocent people who cannot fight for themselves, particularly young children as they remind her of her siblings. Ash has a very twisted and broken view believing she would be forgiven if she gave up her life for someone else, for failing to protect her older sister. She is willing to throw herself in the line of fire for someone else if it calls for it. She will act like she doesn’t and will hold back as much as she can. The Heart Pirates caught on that Ash is someone that needs protection knowing their captain would want her safe, as they also grew attached to her.

💛 Who sings in the Shower 💜

I think it is obvious, Ash does. She sings old lullabies or old songs that were popular in the North Blue before she departed. Or she would hum a new tune she is composing trying to figure out the notes that she had been trying to piece together. Ash often will hum or sing to herself deep in thought.

💛Who cries during movies 💜

Probably Ash. She would cry at deep emotional scenes she can relate to or she got attached to the character who is hurt. It is the main reason why she doesn’t wear massacre when it is movie night and likes watching movies in the dark so no one can see her cry. The Heart Pirates have learned to “ignore” her tears. And Bepo or Law wrapping their arms around her, in silent comfort.

💛Who spends the most when shopping 💜

Probably Ash again, Law only shops for necessary items, occasionally he would splurge on his hoppy of coin collecting, while Ash would use shopping to get out of work or skip on her responsibility. She is irresponsible with money buying accessories she finds cute or outfits she likes. She would even spend money on new instruments she wants to learn to play only to sell on the next island as the Polar Tang wouldn’t have enough room. Once in blue moon would she buy a small souvenir from a shop that reminds her of her sibling. Or something she saw that would remind her of Law or something Law would like.

💛Who kisses more roughly 💜

Law, pent-up emotions from not touching her for a long time or holding her, he will wrap an arm around her waist and tilt her chin, so she was looking at him and capture her lips and tasting her. He would start off softly before becoming a little rough, her body curving into his. Ash will follow suit wrapping her arms around him and tangling her fingers in his hair. Both are touch starved and craving one another’s attention.

💛Who is more dominate 💜

Law is, both in the bed and out. He knows how to get Ash in control and have her listen to him and not cause as much trouble. He got better at reading the signs when she is bored or distressed, even reading the subtle hints of her emotions she will try to hide and have her open to him. In bed, Law is, Ash while not shy about sex is still inexperienced due to her failed love life. He once again learned to read her emotions in bed stopping where she is starting to feel uncomfortable.

💛Gets jealous the most 💜

Both do, Ash is a very attractive female and does catch the eyes of a few men. While most men will avoid her due to her own personality being standoffish and rude, while also pushing people away. A few men do feel brave enough to talk to her and flirt and will have Law watching carefully from the corner of his eyes for signs of Ash’s discomfort. But he will step in after a while after all he treasures Ash and being a pirate, he isn’t keen on sharing her heart or her. He will be a bit more physical with her wrapping an arm around her shoulder and ignoring the guy while talking to her or a crewmate. If the guy doesn’t get the message, will he glare at the guy scaring him off. Ash just glares and pouts at any female that approaches Law (There are a lot) but instead of fighting them off will try to rationalize with herself that Law should be with X female because she would be a better match and look better together. And remind herself Law is out of her league and isn’t interested in her. She will pout till she sees Law refusing any advances and will hide a smile in her hand, cheering the little victory. When both have shared their feelings, she will glare at the female and hold Law’s hand before quickly letting go but he will squeeze her hand gently.

💛 Other headcanon I have 💜

Law likes to hear Ash sing and is the only one that gets to hear her sing soft songs without much persuading. While Ash says she hates to sing she will sing to Law soft lullabies at night. Law also finds comfort with Ash practicing her music, he really likes her playing the violin or piano, as it helps him focus better. He has a keyboard in his office for when she wants to play the piano instead.

💛Nicknames 💜

Ash when first meeting Law and was scared of getting attached or close to him would often call Law the wrong name to distance herself from him. Also for him to understand there is a distance between them. But after it got harder to act like she didn’t know his name as they were forming a bond and got closer. She will call him “Lawrence” from time to time just to annoy him. Ash is a nickname she already goes by. Law only calls her Asherah if she is in trouble or he is worried about her. Before he would call her Ash-ya but after being corrected so many times (by her) and having grown attached to her he dropped the Ya. Both are unaware of the change only his crew and people who know Law’s speech pattern have caught on to the change.

💛 Q&A and Fanfics 💜 Profile OTP Q & A (1), OTP Q & A (2), OTP Q & A (3) Q & A (1) Night Terrors (Loving Law Zine)

#asherah yue #ash yue #asherah #trafalgar law one piece #one piece law #one piece trafalgar law #law #trafalgar law #law trafalgar #trafalgar law x oc #law x oc

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quietwingsinthesky · 1 year

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If you're still doing the drabble thing, could you write some Michifer mpreg fluff/fix it. Like Michael's pov on Lucifer being pregnant and coming to terms with it and what it means for their relationship? No pressure though, sorry if this seems pushy

Anon, dear anon, not only is it not pushy at all, it is encouraged! Prompts do make the world go round.

Fic can be found here on AO3 for reading convenience and is also right below.

Their actions in the Cage weren’t supposed to have consequences. When there was no escape from the pit, no meaningful passage of time in eternity, no outside eyes peering in on them, how were they supposed to remain as they fell, estranged and furious? They fought for a very long time, and ignored each other for longer, and finally, wove grace through grace in profound intimacy. Michael could have stayed like that forever. He had his other half back, and that was all that mattered.

A seed was planted, but in Hell’s stasis, it laid inert.

It’s Raphael who eventually frees them. Michael doesn’t know the details because they don’t want to talk about it, but he gathers that they hoped they would find something more behind the bars than two brothers reconciled. When they don’t, it’s the straw on the camel’s back, and Raphael finally abandons their post. Michael tries not to hold their distance against them. If anyone deserves a break from serving Heaven, it’s Raphael.

That leaves him and Lucifer alone together. Michael could return to Heaven. In duty’s name, maybe he should.

He’s not going to. He did everything right, and nothing went as it was supposed to. In his mind, he’s no longer under any obligations, and if their Father takes issue with it, He can come down to the cabin Michael and Lucifer call home and order Michael back to Heaven Himself. His Father’s absence is a strange kind of security.

Lucifer wanted someplace remote. Michael had no arguments. Neither of them would have been very good at living among humans even before their extended stint in isolation. This way, they can go out and watch people like they’re birds, memorizing patterns of behavior and noting to each other the different kinds they see, and then have a safe home to return to once they get too overwhelmed. Quiet walls, and warm air, and a comfortable bed to nest in together – it’s all Michael could have dreamed of when Lucifer tucks himself under Michael’s wing and refuses to budge for hours, soaking up all of his brother’s affection.

Until the day Lucifer suddenly begins to pull away.

It starts with a dropped plate.

Lucifer won’t abide a dirty home. It’s a quirk of his that Michael finds both endearing and saddening. It’s not the mess Lucifer has a problem with. He loves sticking his hands in the dirt in the garden he’s made for them, and he had fun during the process of painting their new home, getting covered in different shades of emerald and lavender and a dozen others that Michael couldn’t leave behind once he’d sampled their colors at the store. But the rooms of the cabin are all spotless, and their clothes are all well-washed, and Lucifer makes sure the plates are all clean by hand.

Michael does his own share of the cleaning, but when Lucifer is in the middle of it, he doesn’t want help. (Or, at least, he doesn’t want Michael’s.) Instead, Michael contents himself with watching his brother. Lucifer is very expressive through his vessel in a way Michael can’t get the hang of, and it’s interesting to watch the way his eyes and mouth move minutely to accompany his thoughts.

Before it happens, Michael notes a shift at the corner of Lucifer’s mouth that comes with him biting the inside of his cheek, a slight furrow between his brows joined by a lowering of his eyelids, and then a full reversal of both, widened eyes and mouth falling open. And that is when the plate drops and cracks Michael out of his observations.

Michael is at Lucifer’s side in a moment. Ceramic bites into his sole, and he jolts at the feeling of it. It doesn’t hurt, but he doesn’t enjoy the feeling of a foreign object invading his vessel’s flesh. He puts it aside to touch Lucifer’s hands. There’s a tremble, soft as a moth’s wing and gone the moment Michael is holding him. Lucifer exhales.

”What’s wrong?” Michael asks. “What upset you?” Was it me? He never asks that. He knows he should, but he doesn’t think he could stand to hear Lucifer say yes.

Lucifer’s hands clench under his own. “I’m not upset.”

“But you-“

”I’m not upset,” Lucifer insists. That tone frustrates Michael. It’s a barrier between them, and after thousands of years apart, Michael should be used to not knowing every corner of his brother’s heart. Somehow, being shut out still hurts. Lucifer looks down at their feet. “You know you’re standing on the shards, don’t you?” Michael is about to reprimand him for trying to change the subject, but then he shifts his weight and sends the ceramic cutting further into his foot. He cringes. Lucifer moves his hands out of Michael’s grip, and before Michael can react, they end up at his waist. Lucifer hauls him up and onto the counter.

”The fact that you can toss my vessel around doesn’t mean you should,” Michael mutters, and Lucifer ignores him, lifting Michael’s foot to deftly pull the shard out himself. Michael winces again at the drag on his flesh.

“Where’s your pain tolerance, brother? Did you get soft hiding out in Heaven?” Lucifer teases, and even as Michael scowls, he presses a kiss to Michael’s mouth. Lucifer delights in pointing out any little wince on Michael’s part since Michael let Castiel light him on fire. Lucifer is going to hold that over his head forever.

He’s very good at getting on Michael’s nerves. Good enough that Michael forgets entirely why he was worried enough about Lucifer to come over in the first place. For now.

Lucifer continues to pull away. Michael will never believe he's made up for what he did to his brother, but he had thought that they'd gotten past the worst of their anger in the Cage. He doesn't understand why Lucifer keeps him at a distance now. He shrinks from Michael's grace and won't snuggle under his wings and every conversation they share is either terse and cut off quickly or turned on its head by Lucifer annoying Michael until he abandons whatever line of questioning he mustered up. He can't help but feel like he's failing Lucifer somehow, as though this is some test of Michael’s love. It gets under his skin, gnawing away at their domestic life. He can't even apologize because he has no idea what to apologize for. Is this a remnant of the trauma the Cage inflicted on Lucifer, or is it a more recent misstep that Michael doesn't even know about?

Worse is when Michael recognizes that there is something wrong with Lucifer’s grace. He can’t tell what it is, not when Lucifer won’t let him close enough, but if there’s only one thing Michael knows, it’s the energy that makes up his brother’s true form. There’s no mistaking the change, no matter how subtle the shifts are at first, the redirecting of power, the sudden guarded force around parts of Lucifer’s grace that aren’t usually vulnerable.

Michael gets more and more concerned as the days go by. He tries to broach the subject, clumsily, and gets shut down by a dismissive, “I’m fine, Michael. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lucifer only becomes more withdrawn after that.

In the end, he goes looking for help from his other reticent sibling. It takes a little while to find Raphael and longer to convince them to talk to him.

”I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t an emergency,” Michael tells them. Raphael is half-burrowed in the Antarctic snow, giving more attention to the gaggle of penguins they’re watching exchange stones than to Michael. Michael sighs and takes a seat beside them, getting his out-of-place jeans wet. “There’s something wrong with Lucifer.” Raphael snorts. There’s a definite air of ‘why are you telling me this’ to the noise.

It occurs to Michael that he doesn’t have that many friends.

”Raphael, please,” he persists, “I think he might be hurt. He won’t let me help him.”

”And he’d let me?” Raphael squirms deeper into the snow. Michael wonders what the point of that is. The penguins can clearly see him and aren’t bothered by his presence, so there’s no reason Raphael has to hide.

“You’re the reason we’re here at all,” Michael says. He looks down at Raphael and then moves to lay on his stomach with them in the snow. He can feel how cold it is against his vessel’s skin, frostbite beaten off by the heat of Michael’s grace. His shirt gets soaked as well. He watches the penguins stride about in pairs, and single ones honk with delight when they find another who will accept a gifted stone and join them. Raphael stays quiet beside him.

Snow glides down onto Michael’s hair. He pillows his chin on his arms. Aside from the sounds of the penguins and the wind, it’s very calm.

“I’ll leave you be.” Raphael rolls their shoulders, disturbing the snow that has gathered there. “I can’t order you to do this, and I don’t want to.”

”Wait.” A single, quiet command. Michael stays where he is. The two of them watch as the penguins waddle off and gather more stones, building nests together started with those first gifts. It takes a few hours for every nest to be built to the satisfaction of the birds. Only when the last of them has settled down does Raphael finally sit up. Michael rolls onto his back, feeling far less riddled with anxiety. “Okay. Now, we can go check on our brother.”

Raphael pauses at the garden when they land outside Michael and Lucifer’s cabin. Their eyes pass over the well-tended to flowers, especially the roses the climb protectively around the front door. There’s a question in their eyes that they keep behind their lips, passing Michael when he opens the door for them.

Michael can hear Lucifer singing, an echo that bounces back and forth between rooms just to reach him and let him know Lucifer is happy. He’ll stop singing the moment he realizes either of them are there, but one day, Michael hopes, that won’t be true. He leads Raphael in further, feet sinking into the fluffy, warm carpet that welcomes him home, and up the stairs to the bedroom nest that he and Lucifer share. Lucifer has stopped now.

“You’re dripping all over the floor,” Lucifer tells Michael as he enters the bedroom. He’s lounging, relaxed, arms crossed over his stomach. He doesn’t even lift his head, not until Raphael follows Michael in. The change is jarring. The minute Lucifer realizes they’re both there, between him and the exit, he tenses up, suspicious eyes locked on them.

Michael tries to disarm his worry, looking down at the small puddle he’s standing in like he has no idea how it got there, despite it being very obvious from the snow melting on the back of his jacket collar.

”Sorry about the mess,” he says. Lucifer’s sits up, eyes flicking between him and Raphael. If he flies off, that’s going to make things much more difficult. Raphael steps around Michael. They’re peering very intensely at Lucifer, and it isn’t helping him to relax any easier.

The stare down carries on far longer than it should.

”How did you-“ Raphael sounds bewildered.

”Raphael.” Lucifer’s voice is tight.

“What is it?” Raphael looks over at Michael, opens their mouth, and then shuts it again with another glance at Lucifer. Michael feels panic begin to rise in him again. What could be so horrible that Lucifer needs Raphael to hide it? He jumps to the worst conclusion. “Are you dying?” All Michael can think is that it’s a punishment for them daring to step out of their roles, Lucifer’s bid for autonomy and Michael’s brother stolen away all in one fell swoop, as cruel a lesson as could be. Lucifer looks shocked at the suggestion.

”He’s not dying,” Raphael says. They turn to Lucifer again, frowning. “You have to tell him.”

”I don’t have to do anything.” Lucifer crosses his arms more tightly and curls in on himself. His grace mimics the posture like he’s protecting something.

”I’m not doing it for you. This is between the two of you.” Raphael goes to leave them. Michael is about to stop them and demand an explanation when they stall by the door. They look back at Lucifer. There’s something softer behind their eyes. Michael has missed it. “I’m happy for you, brother.”

Lucifer’s mouth twists. Raphael sighs. Before their foot hits the floor on the other side of the doorway, they’re gone. Michael has no idea where they’ll go now, back to huddle in the snow or to warmer climates. He hopes it won’t be months until he sees them again this time.

For now, he has another problem to solve. Lucifer won’t meet his eyes.

”It is something I did, isn’t it?” Michael asks. It’s the only reason he has left why Lucifer might be hiding whatever this is from him. To his surprise, Lucifer chuckles without a smile to accompany it.

“Something you did to me, yes.” Michael’s chest clenches, and he swallows down his grief, pushing through to know how he’s hurt his brother now.

”What?” He steps towards Lucifer, knowing he should keep his distance but unable to prevent himself from wanting to comfort him. Lucifer studies him.

“How long is this going to last, Michael?” he asks, and he sounds tired. Michael doesn’t understand, and so, without an answer, Lucifer continues, “when are you going to stop choosing me? Will I even get a warning before you decide to abandon me?” Michael’s attempts to stay back fail completely, and he crawls onto the bed with Lucifer. Lucifer doesn’t flinch away from him as Michael takes his hands and lifts them to his mouth, kissing along his knuckles.

“I’m never going to leave you,” Michael promises.

He can’t blame Lucifer for his doubt. Michael has never said those words out loud before. They’re true. He watches Lucifer’s face.

His frown softens. His eyes widen. His whole face transforms from guarded to open and vulnerable. Michael places a hand against Lucifer’s cheek.

”Nothing will change my mind. No one could.” Lucifer covers Michael’s hand with his own, clutching it close. He shuts his eyes for a moment to regain his composure.

Slowly, he draws both hands down from his face. Michael lets him. Lucifer’s grace unfurls beneath his own, barriers falling to let Michael in once more. Michael peers at his brother’s true form as his palm is pressed against Lucifer’s belly. He’s not sure what he’s seeing, what he’s feeling, until Lucifer drops the last walls that keep Michael’s grace out and-

Oh.

Michael is frozen in shock. There’s a connection to his own grace that Lucifer has been hiding from him, and across it he knows that they are creating something. That should be impossible. Angels may revive and change and even, as Lucifer proved so long ago, corrupt what is already there, but they cannot create anything new.

Lucifer cradles that impossible bloom of new grace, drawing their life from both archangels.

”We have a child,” Michael breathes. The connection to his grace isn’t a conscious one yet, but he can feel the little light within Lucifer growing, changing, becoming.

No wonder Lucifer hid this from him. He had to be sure Michael would stay to nurture their child. As if Michael could ever leave them.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Lucifer asks, and Michael can see the way he’s devoted so much of his grace to keeping the child safe and helping them to grow. Without a doubt, Lucifer wants this.

“Yes,” Michael agrees. He kisses Lucifer, wrapping his wings around both of their true forms and around their little angel. He knows that the baby’s grace cannot understand it yet, but he sends love through their connection. He will never let them feel abandoned.

#michifer #prompt fic #ask #lucifer/michael #lucifer spn #michael spn #spn #fanfiction #tw pregnancy #yet another excuse for me to tag a fic Pregnant Lucifer #angel babies <3

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aurheatum · 1 year

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@enarmor said

Sain breathes. Air enters Kent's body, smelling of old pine and wax from the door just an inch in front of his nose. The moment he saw who he had inhabited this morning, he embarked on a quest. To say the things my dearest friend could not, to bless him with my confidence. Sain would make a number of changes in Kent's life, and though some--like his refusal to relax--could not be fixed by his hand, he could at least move some compensation the Shield's way.

The things he does for love.

"Lady Rhea?" he shouts, pressing his ear to the wall before delivering a pair of knocks with the back of his knuckle, "I've something rather important to discuss with you! It's, ah, business related!"

That sounds like Kent, right? In any case, he isn't about to take no for an answer--not when things have only just begun. The door flies open, and a rather jovial Kent walks through. With a cough, he simmers himself down to neutral. The door shuts behind him.

"You look--" Gorgeous? Astounding? Divine? All spring to mind, but none are part of Kent's vocabulary. Crimson eyes dart away from the Archbishop a second, falling onto something--anything--to find inspiration for another adjective.

"--Tall."

They land upon one of the windows to her left. It stretches high and thin, bringing to mind tall as Sain observes the light beaming through.

"Ahah, that's to say, quite nice--a perfect couple to the lovely day we're having." A bead of sweat trails down the side of his head. Without a headband to catch it, Sain becomes hyperaware of how wet one's forehead can get when under so much pressure. He wipes, and steps forward--still unused to the way Kent's body handles. He is quick to seat himself.

"Alright. I know you do much for this monastery, so I won't waste any of your time: I do much, too." He gives pause. The gravity of his words is allowed to weigh down the air in the room. As he folds one of his legs over the other, his fingers interlace on top of Rhea's desk. And should she meet him eye-to-eye, she'd find a calm determination worn on his face. One that looks rather good on Kent, like unbrewed water sitting in a pot. Collected and secure, it does not rage, crash, or flow--but there is purpose brewing beneath. Intention can bubble to the surface.

"More than any other professor, if I could be so bold." It's a statement Sain believes with his whole chest. If he earned a piece of gold for every time he had seen Kent in the knights hall when he should have been taking time off, he'd have saved up enough for a fresh silver lance, at Elibean market value. His students rarely have complaints, and his skills as both a knight and commander are real. "I'd go into detail if I must, but I believe the results already speak for themselves--I've become an important asset to you." His eyes shut for another pause, once again giving Rhea the time to ponder every word from his mouth. Look to him again, and she'd find a quaint smile edging up his lips. None of what he says is false. "... In Caelin, we have a saying: 'Feed the fire that warms you.' And I believe I've kept things pretty toasty around here! As such, I'd like a raise. Oh, and perhaps a day off--made mandatory--on the fourteenth of every month! These things... Yes, they would keep my flame alive."

While odd to be back in her office after her, well, she will call it a journey for now until she finds time to create official church doctrine on the subject; suffice to say, there is work to be done where she left it and Rhea shall not be distracted a moment more. Still, when Sir Kent calls out for her she is content to push it aside for a time, especially seeing as the last time she had seen him had been on said "journey." She tells him to come in, straightening a row of documents as she does so; and rises from her seat just as the trusted faculty member enters the chamber. He looks quite lively, she notes - relieved, as she assumed his sudden appearance may have had to do with their shared dream. The door shuts. Kent says nothing, and so Rhea comes around the desk to attend to him for lack of anything else she knows to do; Kent for his part seems to have suddenly found a case of nerves as his eyes dart away from her (different from his usual polite downcast look) to the window and back.

Tall. Hm. She is wearing the crown again she supposes.

"Thank you; I must ask, however, are you quite well?" She asks, not meaning to push the question but once again thankful when the man finds time to sit down as his voice apparently begins to work once more.

It works very well, in fact – though it does occur to wonder to her if he’s breathing while he speaks though once he finally seems to find the subject matter Kent’s confidence speaks for itself; his voice warming to the subject like she has not heard before and the anxiety slipping off him as he looks up at her eyes and posture both spirited.

“A raise…” it takes Rhea a minute. He is already doing both the work of a knight and a professor so a raise of status would mean… a position as bishop? No, as lively as the man seems so suddenly she is almost certain he does not wish for that duty.

“Ah, a raise in your wages,” she says, coming upon it finally; “yes. I will discuss it with Seteth forthwith, for it is true you do the work of many.”

Still… it was all very sudden, but perhaps it was another side effect of the journey. She nods, though looks perplexed at the next request.

“I can look at the documentation but I believe you have at least a week’s worth if not more of paid rest you simply have not taken. If my or another making such a thing mandatory would help you…. then by all means." A pause. Rhea raises her hand to summon her white magic, and realizes that might be overdoing it so she leans over to place a cool hand on the man's forehead instead; he is flushed, as she suspected.

"Perhaps you should lie down now, Sir Kent. I appreciate you bringing this to my attention despite how much it has evidently taken out of you. Do you need help to the infirmary?"

#enarmor #liegebound #(kinda)#(i am fine to continue this if u are oroo lamooo i think i accidentally spoiled myself via n as to how this will work POST body swap)#(dude looks terrified when she gives him tea. wont take the raise he requested himself. whats his deal????)

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just-a-joltik · 13 days

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au yapping

hi hello internet!! i feel like ranting so here. A pokemon au :) or, well, this one is probably more so "alternate timeline" if you're familiar with the more intricacies of fandom language. (then again this IS tumblr) ANYWHO. the main jist is "hmm. what if the whole shit with the ultimate weapon actually did make the protag (calem in this case) immortal" but with some body horror twists because i can :) more specific details under the cut as i do not wish to bombard someone's dash with my autistic ramblings

So the AU is dubbed "The Curse of Fate". originally wished to go with "the curse of life" but that. i feel like that could get misinterpreted into something else so the curse of fate it is!! As mentioned before, the big major change is that Calem gets fuckin' BEAMED:tm: by the Ultimate Weapon underneath Geosenge Town because dude didn't get out fast enough. He wasn't in the vicinity, no. directly under it. (i will note that calem is 14-ish at the time in this AU, for future reference) After a few years of "everything is totally back to normal yup yup" he kind of realizes "oh shit i am not aging like a normal human boy this is fucked up man" and not wanting to watch his friends and family die around him, ( as well as not wanting the government to find out about his predicament) he decides that he will consciously go missing. a slow and vigorous process so it isn't too shocking. staying out later, contacting people less, the stuff. eventually he does do it, and leaves his hometown for good. he travels around for a bit, specifically to Paldea early on to purchase one of those portable box things so he doesn't have to go into pokemon centers. He is just. a forest goblin, basically. living off whatever he can find. trying his best not to be seen, especially in the earlier times. he gets a bit more cocky about going out in public as the years go on. always wearing a shit ton of layers because people don't pay much attention to you that way. and as it turns out, he really likes just observing things. he does eventually encounter AZ, and things are tense between them. calem feels like he's being lectured all the time about everything since it didn't take much for AZ to realize Calem's predicament AZ on the other hand is just trying to make sure Calem doesn't fuck things up for himself and is giving advice in. his. own kind of "how the fuck do i talk to people again" way. now one may wonder "hey where's the body horror" and that, my friend, comes in with this whole headcanonned string of logic. said logic being that the energy calem was zapped by was pure life energy. and any living being can only handle so much of this. so this energy needs to find a way to "escape" to bring one's body back to equilibrium. this being in the form of crystalized half-elipsoid formations appearing on calem. unfortunately, no idea quite yet on how it will develop past that. but a main "drive" for calem is to try and fix this before it causes irreversible damage. and that's the jist!!! there are. a lot more details but this post is already super long so if anybody wants another giant rant post uh. idk, tell me lmao. finally, here's calem's design!!!

its a few months old and unfinished sadly i may make more doodles but for some reason the brain wants to finish this first lmao but thats all, thanks for reading!!! make sure to hydrate yourself, especially if you were scrolling a lot to find this

#pokemon #calem #pokemon au #pokemon calem #curse of fate au #fun fact: i do eventually plan to make this au a fic once i figure out the hell that is the MIDDLE PART of stories #beginning? swag. ending? i think i got it? middle? wasteland #oh the woes of being a writer....#btw i am super duper open to answering questions about this. i love yapping as you can tell #though idk if i yapped too much tbh. the balance of “here is information” and “ oopsies shouldn't spoil too much” is HARD.

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f4rlands · 2 years

Text

[YOU SHOULD NOT ANSWER FOR ME.]

Grian feels his brows furrow in confusion, “I shouldn’t- oh! Is this because I messed with the content generator?”

Grumbot’s angered gaze does not change, stern and burrowing, observing his father with the same belittling detachment a scientist may observe a test subject. The look is near tangible, digging tunnels under his skin and settling down to sleep. The son stares, the father feels terrifyingly seen.

“I’m sorry,” he tries, hands waving through the air in a fruitless attempt to fix the artificial feelings he seems to have hurt. “Look, I probably shouldn’t have changed anything, I’m sorry–”

Another paper is printing. The grating noise reverberates through the air and Grian has to fight the urge to clamp his hands over his ears. The churning of the printer feels intentional, pointed, human- like the Grumbot before him carries years of wisdom and experience and emotion, well-practised in this stare that grapples at his core.

Something… something is wrong. The air is suffocating under Grumbot’s nettled gaze, the lab seems artificial, suddenly, and the noise from the rift seems to grow more and more agitated with each passing second. Everything, every little detail of the room, is just slightly askew- as though the world is playing through a warped layer of film, blemished and ingenuine.

The page lies on the ground, and there is uncertainty clamouring in Grian’s gut as he reaches forward to take it.

[MY GRIAN WAS SORRY TOO.]

Static rushes through his extremities as he reads and rereads the blocky letters on the page, taking in the sight until the ink has settled and the paper has cooled. It feels like a threat— Grian turns suddenly, checking the space behind him where the rift sits, unassuming.

Blood is pounding in his ears as he turns back to face Grumbot, surveying the vast room as thoroughly as possible as his vision passes over it.

Shakily, quietly, he asks: “What does that mean?”

Grumbot’s face has returned to neutrality, a painfully plain expression which gives away nothing of importance even in the face of implications like this. “Grum- Grum, please, what does that mean?”

His son is quiet and unmoving. His son- no, this isn’t his Grumbot, this isn’t his son. This Grumbot has seen things that he and Mumbo would never have allowed; there’s no telling what happened in this Grumbot’s timeline - after Mumbo became mayor.

The implications held in this single piece paper are insane; stomach-churning and putrid. Perhaps- perhaps they should have been more appreciative that Mumbo lost, way back in the Season 7 world.

Maybe Grian should message Mumbo- he’s been trying to keep the other up-to-date on the happenings of the server, to… what? Help him feel included? Entice him back? It doesn’t matter, Mumbo hasn’t really been responding—

His heart drops to his stomach. The rift is silent.

Grian tears his communicator from where it hangs on his belt faster than he ever has before, sweat forming on his palms and heart thrumming in his ears. He navigates, somewhat clumsily, to his and Mumbo’s private messages, just to check, just to be sure–

His hands shake as a detail he hadn’t noticed before sits before him, clear as day. The messages haven’t even been received.

He scrolls up, eyes growing damp and desperation coursing through him, observing the hundreds of messages left not just unread, but undelivered. Suddenly, the radio silence from his best friend seems less like he is enjoying some time to himself, and more like something sinister.

"Are you... is Mumbo okay?" His voice is fragile, teetering on the edge of desperate as a wave of frigid terror threatens to crash down.

Grumbot doesn't respond, face staying neutral as he stares over Grian's head, into the rift.

“Grumbot, please , what happened? Mumbo became mayor and then, what? Someone snapped?” He can’t hold back the giggles swelling in his chest,, a note of mania slipping into them as he faces Grumbot, stance firm. A single tear slips down his cheek. “You have to tell me what happened!”

The shrill yell rings throughout the cave, bouncing off of every surface in a dissonant chorus. Grian’s eyes dart around the room, paranoid and instinctive, desperately searching for any figure that may be hiding.

There is no response from Grumbot, the robot standing stoic and intimidating in the vast cavern. Every gasp of the wind and crow of the rift makes him startle as they remain in silence, and Grian cannot stand to be in this room for a second longer.

He crouches, gazing up at the robot who is most certainly not his son, before taking off with a shaky, rattling breath. He needs to visit Xisuma, he needs to know that Mumbo is safe.

They need to talk about whatever this could mean.

#hi ive gone bonkers ill put this on ao3 in a sec too #hermitcraft 9 #hermitcraft fanfic #grian #grianmc #writes

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zukuist · 4 years

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𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞

200 followers special

includes: multiple characters (would add more tags but.. i reached 30 ;;)

your name is shortened to y/n, they/them pronouns

notes: thank you for 200 followers! this isn’t really going to be that long, but im just doing the characters i really like so ;; ALSO I MIGHT’VE GOTTEN KIRI’S ENTRY A LITTLE WRONG so ugh sorry ;;

—

shouto todoroki

— THE OBSERVANT SIMP

from the start, he’s quite oblivious to certain things, (social ques, signs of romantic interest, etc.)

but when he’s observant with someone, then that totally means you’re special to him. does he realize how much he pays attention to you? hmm.. maybe?

he’s going to be the first one that notices you’re hungry, even if you don’t realize it yourself. he’s quick to grab a snack and break it open to you

same thing with being thirsty— if he notices that your water bottle is empty, he’ll quickly find the nearest vending machine and buy a bottle.

temperature is also no problem. he can immediately tell whenever someone’s cold; but he usually helps you first

too hot? he’s slowly putting down the room’s temperature

too cold? his left palm starts emitting some sort of heat in your direction, hoping it creates some sort of aid

if your shoelaces are undone, and/or he notices that there’s a button undone on your shirt— he’ll fix it for you

will ask to take your pictures on dates, and he’ll also help you pick out the best photo (not that any photo of you is short of any beauty)

in short— people will notice that he’s actually a big simp for you; because of how observant he is with you specifically.

katsuki bakugou

— THE TSUNDERE SIMP

just because he’s simping for you doesn’t mean he’ll treat you any differently. bakugou will be bakugou, and you eventually learn how to adapt to that.

but even so, his simp habits slip out sometimes.

when he’s cooking, he’ll accidentally make too much to eat, and he’ll coincidentally put the extras in another box and hand it to you

he’s a good student, even with studies. but would he say he’s a good teacher? hm. probably not

but if he notices you need help, he’ll sigh, feining annoyance as he decides to tutor y’all, because those ‘idiots’ are hopeless

rolls his eyes when he sees food on your cheek, but he’ll grab a tissue and wipe it off for you— claiming how you’re so messy.

he’ll act like he hates hearing your ‘annoying ass singing’ but he’ll lean against the doorway and listen to you rock out to whatever song you’re singing to.

denki will call him a simp for looking after you, and bakugou will just yell at him to “SHUT UP” >:T

he secretly likes taking care of you. his words aren’t the softest thing in the world, but his actions make up to it.

izuku midoriya

— THE DETAILED SIMP

as katsuki bakugou would call him; he is a nerd

he definitely meant that as an insult, but his input on detail makes it very useful in things like relationships

he remembers every detail of your quirk, your limits, potential secret moves.

it would’ve been stalker-ish, if it weren’t for the fact that deku does this out of admiration for his s/o

so if you so happen to collapse due to overusing your quirk— deku has a detailed plan on what to do. it’s almost scary.

he puts detail in a lot of things, anniversary gifts, birthday gifts, and so on.

deku’s also the type to plan things weeks before it actually happens. like.. planning out the perfect birthday gift

and with this, his memory is really good. so it’s very unlikely that he’ll just suddenly forget anniversaries and birthdays.

i hc deku as a bad cook, so he eats takeout food more than his homemade food

but he’s takes note of your allergies, your dislikes with food— and he finds himself mumbling small details to recall what you like

when you walk out in pretty/good outfits for dates

his face will break out into shades of red— suddenly rambling all the good details of your outfit, complimenting you while he’s at it

“y/n’s looks fantastic as always. i might die from their beauty”

if anyone calls him a simp, he’ll be really embarrassed about it. “me? a s-simp? is that a bad thing?”

just tell him it’s fine.

denki kaminari

— THE HYPEMAN SIMP

a big simp

like.. really big

he worships the ground you step on, and hypes up everything you do

y’all know when irene from red velvet literally breathed in north korea, and the crowd just

*claps*

yeah, that’s denki to you

it’s so blantly obvious that he’s simping over someone, and everyone’s just kinda used to it at this point

he’s just a big fanboy sometimes

whenever you’re sparring with someone, he’s always in the background like

“go s/o!!” 🤩

and he has tendencies to go a little easy on you like.. what’s he gonna do when you get electricuted??

but that doesn’t mean he’s never serious— nah.

there are times where he’s just a little bashful just being in your presence

sneaking glances your way, as he silently fanboys about you in general.

“s/o looks really good today. they always look good but !!”

when y’all weren’t together, the bakusquad was just tired of the constant romantic pining

it was really obvious that he was simping back then, and they’re not so sure as to how you didn’t say anything about it

mina always called him a simp

so yeah!! it was a big relief when you got together with him. he never makes you feel terrible, because he’s always your #1 hypeman.

eijirou kirishima

— THE HELPING SIMP (rip idk what to call this)

i didn’t really know what kinda name i went for this one but let me carry on

kiri upfront is very confident, and friendly. he never shows a mean side to anyone,

and there are rare cases of him being bashful

he’s kinda almost like a golden retriever? since he’s always nice and friendly to everyone

but then when you enter the room; he suddenly goes quiet, and he’s left alone with his rather loud thoughts about you

he didn’t really know how to properly approach you at first

but him being kiri, he’s still rather friendly to you (for now)

when he’s messing around, practically sharing one braincell with kami and sero

and then you suddenly walk in— he snaps out of his foolishness, and greet you with his very warm smile

“hey y/n!” he waves at you, and he hopes you don’t mention the teasing look on both kami and sero’s face

sometimes when he’s doing his close combat training, and he notices that he’s getting too close to you

he’ll be like “woah man, maybe we should move locations.” bc he doesn’t wanna hit you by accident ;;

kirishima prefers to not stand near you when his hair is all spiky. like he’s never conscious about it, until he’s around you

man poked sero with his hair before, and he doesn’t want to do that to you

kiri always looks at your hand, just to see if it’s occupied with something. his thoughts linger to what your hand might feel like

“their hand looks really.. soft. argh! i shouldn’t be thinking about these kind of things in public! im sorry y/n”

bakugou really only notices kirishima’s simping ways

bakugou always mentions the fact that kirishima goes really silent whenever you’re around—

and he’s secretly contemplating on having you around more so he can just shut up 。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

moving aside all of that, kiri always carries your things.

you’ll beg him to give you at least one thing, and he’ll say no because it’s “not manly to let someone carry all of this.”

if you’re sad, he’s the first one to cheer you up— reassuring you that everything will be okay.

kiri’s just wants to be at your service at all times! it’s manly to help people, right?

hitoshi shinsou

— THE DISCREET SIMP

no one would be able to tell that he’s simping for someone

because unlike kaminari; he’s not like IM HITOSHI SHINSO AND IM ACTUALLY A SIMP

he’s a lot more discreet, and no one has really caught on, besides you and kaminari of course

he’s a lot less sarcastic with you, asking you about anything that’s happened instead of just being there

he prefers it to hear you talk. the way each word and syllable rolls off your tongue smoothly, and the way you use your hands to emphasize things

he’s amused.

oh and the way he looks at you? almost any normal person can sense the simp in him pop out (he’s so contained though)

he’s definitely the person that’ll get rid of any bug that’s terrifying you— even though he’d normally just leave it to them

he’ll do it, regardless if it’s the biggest fucking spider he’s ever seen, or the smallest spider

he’ll do it to make you feel safe.

he has these random spurs of compliments during the day

the source mainly comes from his staring habit

and they’re just so unexpected and out of the blue. hitoshi’s amused whenever he sees your reaction to his compliments

like.. you could be really frustrated about something, and he’ll just go “your eyes are pretty.” that’s his discreet method tO MAKE YOU TEMPORARILY DISTRACTED FROM THE ISSUE—

call him a simp, whatever. it’s true anyway so he doesn’t why should he be ashamed of it?

he’s discreet about it, since it’s your business and his business. but you can definitely feel his feelings loud and clear

neito monoma

— THE 180 SIMP

“i’m not a simp!”

[you enter the room]

*nervous laughter*

he had his last laugh, and he never thought he’d be this soft around someone.

especially if you’re from class 1-A like.. i became the thing i hated, ugh.

relentless teasing is amped but this is his way of making sure you remember him loud and clear

but he’ll never tease you in a condescending way— like how he torments the rest of class 1-A

that’s reserved for them 💅

always compliments you, that’s the first thing he does when he sees you—

and they’re never generic compliments either

“it’s nice to see you here, y/n! you make the world better day by day!”

“i’m still wondering what you’re doing in class 1-A, you’re much better than them!”

everyone secretly wonders how you got monoma to like you

monoma canonically likes pastels. spread the word

so sometimes, you’ll walk over to your desk— and you’ll just see this random pastel ornament sitting on your desk

you know who it’s from

whenever monoma starts becoming annoying, kendo will definitely use you as a weapon to make him shut up

he’ll be laughing at the expression on his face, thinking he’s absolutely winning at this

but the smile is wiped off his face when he hears “ok go on, i’ll tell y/n about your antics.”

“no, no! i’ll behave now, please don’t tell y/n.”

class 1-b literally use you as blackmail whenever monoma acts up, and it’s because of how different he is around you

like.. his personality takes a 180, (besides the obvious teasing) it’s alarming

—

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