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lighthouseborna · 2 years

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Psychology & mental health deep dive.

General mental health related trigger warnings apply. Feel free to include more or exclude those facts / test results that take too much time or don’t apply, you can check out this list for more personality-related quizzes to include!

I decided on a page break for the trigger warnings but also because I couldn’t stand how squished up this meme was and put in spacing (and answers ;sdlkfgjdlskf) that made it. Quite long.

tagged: @detectiveconnor tagging: @tiderider @piraticblood @darlingflight @dvarapala @loetise @irrfahrer +I encourage dash theft because I cannot think who else I have seen tagged or not

QUICK FACTS

Diagnoses: Anxiety for sure, with his dislike for being kept out of things and his capacity to “if” himself to death; some post-traumatic stress but I’m not sure if that’s something that’s going to stick..? I have mostly written him within a year (or a couple) of the significant trauma event (or re-traumatized him) so it’s completely possible the symptoms could clear with time and not warrant the “disorder” part of that tag. (You could... probably put a ADHD in here and not be wrong, per se, but I’ve never deliberately written him with that intent/framing.) Triggers: Feeling trapped- he’s always been a little don’t-box-me-in, but after the possession he is especially sensitive to (and vigilant for) situations that would trap or restrain him. He’s had trouble with some particularly nasty nightmares and the development of occasional sleep paralysis: the paralysis in particular will always launch a panic attack. There are an assortment of environmental triggers (auditory and touch-based, largely) that exist but he has an incredibly difficult time identifying them. Being cold tends to make him more sensitive to other triggers; very rarely will it fold him over on its own, but it just puts him in a state that makes it easier. (I think it doesn’t tend to trigger him on its own because he wasn’t actually cold. He was cut-off from his senses, which manifested to him like he was cold, when it was more accurately an absence of input that he processed as “cold” due to having no other way to interpret what was happening.) He also has a sixth-sense that, if that is activated in a way he can’t place or identify, can send him spiraling. Positive Coping Skills: He is, in a lot of situations, very capable of talking himself down; finding the grounded parts of his thoughts and using them to level out. He’s also typically proactive about seeking out trusted persons to give him grounding physical contact or reassurances. He has realized that managing his breathing can help, but his consistency with it isn’t very good. He also readily and without hesitation removes himself from situations that make him uncomfortable and I consider this a good coping skill (I don’t know if it actually is? s;lkfjgslkdfg); he will not just sit there and ignore something he’s identified as making him want to crawl out of his skin. If he knows what’s causing it, he’ll get away from it and / or it away from him. (The trouble is figuring out what’s causing it.) Negative Coping Skills: His ‘find someone who can help’ can easily feed into using physical intimacy as a crutch and a distraction without addressing the root issue that drove him to seek reassurance. I....I think that’s it? He has some other bad habits but I think this is the only one that’s specifically a coping skill? --OH well. Sometimes if he can’t find help, he seeks grounding physical sensations that border on being harmful, but he’s never cause significant damage to himself and there’s never any intent to damage himself (just to land.) These are also usually borne of intense panic, where he’s not necessarily thinking clearly. Attachment Style: Secure. He’s got.... a lean for anxious/preoccupied that exists, where he can talk himself into some fears, but ultimately he’d be very likely to bring the fears up so really he keeps pretty firmly grounded in the secure style. He trusts his people. Love Language... -to give: all, but in particular Acts of Service and Physical touch; he is least likely to use words, but does more when he catches on to a person’s want(/need) for them -to receive: Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Gifts (in that order); he tends to resist accepting Acts of Service (that’s his job, getting things done) but if it’s presented in a ‘we’ll work together’ way things go better The “love language that probably falls into one or more of the official ones but is specific to him” one is: sharing/learning. He likes to be taught things he didn’t know, and learning about the person in the process of being taught something. Taking the time to teach or explain things will always win you points with him. Myers Briggs / MBTI: ENFP-A Enneagram: Type 7

HISTORY EXPLORATION

Are their diagnoses formal ( via a doctor, therapist, etc. ) or informal ( self diagnosis, a hunch, unrealized, etc. )? No formal diagnosis, partly because there’s not really a dedicated name for or study into any of it (that I’m aware of) in the time period of his main verse? But also he’s not likely to pursue something like that. A couple of AUs have people who have suggested some of this to him, informal diagnosis only in the sense that they don’t have PHDs but they do have eyes and understanding. He would not individually seek out professional advice, I don’t think. Someone would have to suggest it to him. (I’m not sure...he needs it? He wouldn’t think he does. I am unsure.)

Have they ever been treated / medicated? Not for the anxiety or stress no. For the physical injuries from the same events, yes.

Have they ever been hospitalized or treated on an inpatient basis? No.

How old were they when they first started experiencing / realizing symptoms? Probably the anxiety began mildly in his youth, when he was around ages 9-12; a lot was going on between the pirates of Shipwreck Cove and the EITC and it planted that early knowledge like...sometimes people leave and don’t come back. Which is, of course, just...a part of life. But the way it permeated his early childhood may account for some of the anxiety he has now with letting loved ones out of his immediate vicinity, especially if he knows they’re entering potentially dangerous situations. Add to that the part where he finally gets to meet his father only to immediately be separated again... he can get a little clingy. The trauma-stress probably appeared a couple of times before in brief fashion after some of his more harrowing experiences, but resolved; he never had significant problems until after the quest for the trident, when he was 19/20. The panic attacks, sleep paralysis, and other symptoms appeared then. He’s really not sure what to do with any of it. There’s still the possibility these stresses will lesson (again, I’m not sure if it’s enough to file as a disorder, just something he’s dealing with in the place I put his main verse.)

Do they have a family history of mental illness? That. Is a very good question, actually. There’s a lot of avoidant attachment and anxious attachment styles around him, and lots of mistrust, and abandonment, abuse, and neglect. I don’t know that any of it is.... strictly definable as mental illness (some of it was grief driven, but some of it very cognizant and aware, and some of unintentional, but some of it based of a bad understanding of what a person should be--) but there’s a lot of bad communication that distinctly resulted in trauma that feeds unhealthy mental attitudes. There’s certainly a history of hurt, at any rate. Henry is very much manifest of several broken cycles of abuse and neglect.

How was mental health handled / discussed in the family / community? Pirate society is more or less as “there are some things we don’t talk about” as any other established society in this regard. So, in other words: it isn’t, really, discussed, in his community. In the family tends to...waffle. Henry’s definitely the most willing to table the conversation, point at things and say out loud “that’s not okay”, but the others have their ways of getting to things. Usually, that saying-one-thing-and-meaning-another that works for them. Meaningful Looks™. It’s not his favorite, but he understands it. He’s pretty comfortable with just bringing it up if he’s trying to figure things out, and when it comes to his family, if he’s straightforward in his questions he tends to get straightforward answers.

What are their thoughts on mental health / their diagnosis? He’s really not sure. He doesn’t spend... a lot of time just in contemplation of himself? He’s used to trusting his instincts and his body just on principle. That those things are suddenly less stable has tripped him a bit, but he doesn’t tend to sit there and ruminate on it.

In what ways has their diagnosis shaped their life or experiences? He’s always been a fairly self-aware sort of person as part of his identity, knowing that he’s different without being bothered by it, seeing the pieces of himself through the people around him and coming to understand what kind of person he is. Realizing that something has changed, but not having a clear understanding of why or what to do with it has left him a little bit... scattered. He drifts, sometimes. Finds himself somewhere else entirely. And he finds himself looking up, a lot. Looking up like he’s stuck on the floor of the ocean and trying to find the way out.

SYMPTOMS

note that all of the below are, on their own, normative and typical aspects of human functioning. they become “symptoms” when they last longer than “normal” or when they pose a significant impact on someone’s life / functioning. BOLD all that are present, ITALICIZE those that are resolved or in the history.

depression. anxiety. panic attacks. dissociation. derealization. depersonalization. suicidal ideation. self harm. homicidal ideation. psychosis. auditory hallucinations. visual hallucinations. delusions. mania. hypomania. racing thoughts. hyperactivity. attention difficulty. flashbacks. nightmares. hyperarousal. hypoarousal. hypersexuality. hyposexuality. psychopathy. risky behavior. catatonia. somatic / bodily concerns. mutism. phobia. agoraphobia. hoarding. obsessions. compulsions. body dysmorphia. hair picking. skin picking. amnesia. illness anxiety / hypochondria. sensory loss. speech difficulty. comprehension difficulty. communication difficulty. tics. defiant behavior. irritable mood. vindictiveness. aggression. pyromania. kleptomania. paranoia. attention seeking. narcissism. avoidance. dependency. pica. rumination. food restriction. food binging. purging. soiling the bed. insomnia. fatigue. sexual dysfunction. delirium. developmental delays.

Explanations / elaborations on any of the above symptoms:

His anxiety most often manifests in result to being separated from loved ones and/or when they are under threat of harm, as well as when he cannot act on his own or their behalf to change something; it has more tendency to make him irritable and somewhat aggressive than to send him into unreachable panic

He has always had some issue with racing thoughts when he gets worked up (he avoids the word ‘if’ when he knows he’s beginning to panic), but it wasn’t until after the possession that they gained the ability to spiral into fully realized panic attacks with all the physical effects. He never had them before, and when he has them now it is almost always because something has triggered a traumatic association or concern, though sometimes (far more rarely) can be caused by his other anxieties.

The dissociative spells are also a direct result of the possession; he, literally, has experienced thoughts and emotions that do not belong to him and it’s been. confusing. to deal with. It’s made some of his own thoughts and feelings feel foreign. The derealization is more something of his own body’s defense mechanism; removing some of the reality spared him a lot of agony in the moment. Now that it’s a precedent that has been established, though, he finds himself struggling to stay grounded. Things just start to seem unreal, not always for an identifiable reason, and it’s not comfortable for him.

He does not have insomnia, but he’s developed a variable aversion to sleep. It has more to do with the sleep paralysis than the nightmares, but both factor into it. The dreams tend to temporarily unsettle him, but a paralysis episode will have him avoiding sleep for as long as he can physically manage it afterward.

On the subject of fatigue, he has a tendency to miss —not ignore but miss— the way that these things make him tired. He’s more likely to drift into that state of derealization when he’s worn out and overtired.

He’s also prone to migraines though whether that is related to any of his trauma or not is somewhat unclear.

#☩ chicken on a raft ( DASH GAME. )#☩ there's a light that never goes out ( HEADCANON. )

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gettingthebestofyou · 3 months

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So, who am I and what am I doing?

I’m a 40 year old woman living in the northeast US. I’m documenting my journey on a GLP-1 Medication. Feel free to come along for the ride or to ignore entirely. There will be frank discussions on weight loss, body image, and injectables.

I’m keeping this as anonymous as I can make it. I want it to be a diary of sorts.

Here’s my story…

I was always overweight as a kid, but I learned to have a very dysfunctional relationship with food because my mother hated her weight. I can’t remember a time where I wasn’t on a diet or I wasn’t thinking about what foods were good, what was bad, or how much I could have without looking bad in public.

I managed to keep my weight under check as a child, but I was always “chubby.”

In college I went up to 180 lbs. Even with being very active, I had no control over how I was eating and didn’t ACTUALLY understand nutrition.

After college I had a fairly active job, and I tried to keep active with gyms. I went on multiple diets many times. My weight fluctuated a lot.

Part of my job requires me to be in specific kinds of clothes, and to be in front of mirrors often. I see myself all the time. I do not like what I look like.

I did not like dieting and exercise, but I managed to stay just a little overweight for the majority of this time.

I was able to keep my body in check until 2014.

In 2014 I contracted Lyme Disease, but because I did not see a target rash and my test kept coming back negative (falsely) they wouldn’t medicate me. Over the course of 4 months I went to 5 different doctors, including one who wanted to diagnose me with Fibromyalgia and treat me with a course of muscle relaxants to sleep and caffeine to keep awake. The last Doctor finally treated the Lyme, and within 24 hours of being on medication I saw a 50% reduction in symptoms. I gained about 30 lbs in those four months.

In 2014 I also went back to school and my lifestyle changed drastically. From 2014-2019 it was a struggle to have energy, to move, even to sleep sometimes. It was all symptoms I had with the Lyme, but on and off, sometimes better, sometimes worse. Dieting became a struggle for me and the things I had done to lose weight before weren’t working.

During this time, I tried many drastic things to lose weight, which only worked for a time. I started to accept that I wouldn’t never be thin.

No matter what I did, in the end, my weight always went up.

When Covid hit, like so many others, everything stopped. I was unable to move, and keeping my weight in check was a dream at this point.

In 2022 I decided I’d lived with my head in the sand long enough. While I had been well other than my weight for years, I hadn’t seen a primary care doctor since 2015, and mine had retired during the pandemic. I went to a new primary, who found a myriad of issues.

Of note: high cholesterol, high lever enzymes, high A1C and high TSH.

I ended up changing primaries because I didn’t like how she seemed so unconcerned with my high results as I have a myriad of health issues in my family history.

My new PCP is amazing. With his guidance and the help of a nutritionist and a personal trainer, I’ve decreased my overall cholesterol to normal levels, my LDL is only slightly out of range, my liver enzymes (which indicated non-alcoholic fatty liver) are also now normal, and after referring me to an endocrinologist, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis which is now being treated.

Over the last year and a half, I have not been able to get my A1C down, though, no matter what changes I make.

After my last round of blood tests, and with my PCP’s agreement and cooperation, my endocrinologist has put me on Zepbound.

I am engaging on a GLP-1 Journey, like it or not. Some days I like it, some days I don’t.

Here, I’m going to recount it all.

Today is February 3, 2024.

Today I start finding the best parts of me.

#about me #pinned post #trigger warning weight loss #trigger warning body image #trigger warning medical #weight loss #Zepbound

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dreamkidddream · 3 years

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Those Doll!anon fics were really amazing! I really wanna do something like it if you don’t mind. Could I maybe get a Yorkie!MC? Like, a really short, really friendly MC until they feel like they or one of the brothers/undateables are being threatened or insulted, then they try to pick a fight they’d obviously lose? I’m just laughing at the mental imagine of this short, unthreatening human yelling at and trying to square up against a demon lol.

Awww tysm!! 💙I missed writing for Obey Me (and we also hit 666 followers at this point 😈💜) and since this was so interesting I decided that I’m gonna do the Undateables first and then do the brothers cause I feel like I don’t show them enough love 😔 reader is gender neutral!

The Undateables with Yorkie!MC

Diavolo

He is LOVING your energy

Your happiness is so contagious, it just adds onto his already cheery demeanor. He honestly feels his cheeks hurting from smiling even more when you’re around (and he doesn’t even care!)

He’s gonna buy Lucifer so much Demonus as a thank you for picking you for the exchange program. Seriously, you’re PERFECT (for him)

As the President of Student Council and future King, he loves seeing you interact with the other students, and he’s glad that they’re reacting positive to you. At least some of them do

Now, no one is to foolish (or powerful) enough to threaten Diavolo or do anything to you that can bring you harm. They can try, but they won’t be getting the results that they hope for

But he can’t help it but find it amusing when you try to “defend his honor” when someone bad mouths him. He makes sure to not let it show (gotta be professional after all) but he does tease you about it later. You’re so small and seeing you just yelling square up to this demon is hilarious. He has no idea what geometry has to do with this, but he’s learned some new slang thanks to you!

He’s finally found someone who’ll go along with his antics and more. Whereas other people may complain about him wanting to do fun activities that seem basic, you just flash a big smile, grab his hand and tell him to lead the way

(You even made matching friendship bracelets and he refuses to take it off, ever)

You really make him happy MC. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this lighthearted, and he doesn’t feel the sense of loneliness that he felt himself getting used too

Also Lucifer gets twice the headache now, but the Demonus helps it go away (temporarily)

Barbatos

Ah, so another Luke, except older and that you take your threats of violence very serious, if what he sees (both in the present and the future) holds true (which it does)

You’re still harmless in his eyes though

Your friendly personality makes it easy for you to be forgiven for a lot of things…even if your actions make him give you the side eye at times

Despite how energetic you are (which is something that he’ll never grow tired of) your presence has a relaxing effect on him. Even if he has to warn you sometimes to be careful with the way that you bounce around so much, especially when he’s in the kitchen

He unfortunately can’t be by your side as he is Lord Diavolo’s butler, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t keep watch on you, even without the use of his powers

With how outgoing you are, you’re bound to attract trouble, in which you do at a constant rate. What was comical however, is that it seemed like the trouble you attracted was on his behalf

“MC, what seems to be the issue here?”

“BARB! You won’t believe this! This jerk has the nerve to call you stuck up- well I can show you stuck up! After I stick my foot up your- Huh? Hey, why am I the one being dragged away?! W- count yourself lucky that Barb is saving you right now demon! But this isn’t over- MPH!”

“I hate to spoil you before our tea party, but you were already late and I have been meaning to have you try my new recipe that I’ve been working on…”

You were too busy trying to savor the delicious flavor to focus on what just happen, which was his plan all along. You get to try more of his delicious treats and he gets to enjoy your touch and company. Crisis averted!

He’s crafty enough to have plans to evade you “fighting” and you haven’t caught on yet (or maybe you did and just feign ignorance? Either way works for him)

It doesn’t bother him what people say about him, he doesn’t care in the slightest (and they’re not bold enough to say it to his face). What he cares about is making sure that you keep your carefree energy, and that he keeps to see you with your radiating smile on your face

Simeon

You remind him so much of Luke. Are you sure you’re not from the Celestial Realm too?

Don’t worry he’s only teasing you (kinda) but you do have just as much energy if not MORE than Luke

And you don’t mind helping him either, no matter how “silly” his requests may be

“You’re doing great Si! See, you didn’t even need my help!”

“MC, I couldn’t have gotten to this point without you. My pictures are still coming out a little blurry, but that could be because you wouldn’t stand still- but it does add special kind of charm to them…”

He’s keeping them btw

He was shook when he saw you go off the first time, like he really wasn’t expecting it (Solomon did try to warn him, he was laughing but he did try to warn him)

“Don’t think just because he’s an angel means I’m bout to act like one! I will end you!”

MC please don’t make this demon “catch these hands” violence isn’t necessary

He doesn’t know what that means but he’s scared that he’s gonna find out if he doesn’t hold you back

He has reprimanded you each time when you try to fight others. He knows that demons see him as weak and talk behind his back, but he chooses to ignore them, to turn the other cheek. But just because he does, doesn’t mean that you do, and he sees that now

Simeon really doesn’t want you to fight, and it’s not even because it’s against his nature (it’s part of the reason, just not the whole reason). Fighting leads to injury, and injury leads to distress, and that’s the last thing that he wants to happen to you. And he’s not going to let anything happen to you!

He truly believes it’s a waste of time and energy, and you could find better things to do. For example, by spending time with him!

Simeon may not be your guardian angel officially, but he’s your guardian angel. Always

Has definitely written a character based on you

Luke

Is immediately upset that you don’t stay in Purgatory Hall with him, and even more upset that you don’t live in the Celestial Realm

You’re like the best older sibling he’s never had! And you don’t treat him like a baby either!

Or he’s just admiring you too much to notice

You never hesitate to help him with anything; baking, homework, pretty much anything and everything. He may try to make it seem like you need his assistance, but we all know it’s the other way around (with the exception of Luke himself)

We all know that Luke gets teased by the brothers and even his roommates sometimes (looking at you Solomon), but it’s just harmless teasing (for the most part). It’s when he hears what the other students say about him that gets to him- he tries to show that it doesn’t bother him and he tries to stand up for himself but- their words really hurt him

And no one hurts Luke and gets away with it

You already get onto the brothers for their teasing when it starts to bother him, and now the brothers have to jump in to stop you from trying to rip this demon horns’ off

You can’t really reach them and they’re pretty sure you won’t do any damage, but they rather not take the chance of you getting hurt

It’s not the first or last time that you do this either, and it just makes him feel horrible. He’s the angel here, the one that’s suppose to protect you, not the other way around!

You help him out so much, either without defending him you do so much for him already. How can he ever repay you? He feels like whatever he does won’t be enough…WAIT- he figured out what he can do!

He can get stronger and protect you! He can go to Beel so that you don’t have to fight for him anymore, or maybe have Solomon make some potions that’s like demon repellent but only for those jerks. If those mean demons see how serious and strong he is, then they’re bound to leave you guys alone! Maybe he can show you some tricks too once he’s done. He has to hurry up and tell you the plan then, you guys can’t wait any longer!

Their words do hurt, but so does seeing you putting yourself in harms way to protect him. You can’t do all the protecting MC, he needs to watch out for you too, no if ands or buts about it!

You and Luke are the duo we never knew we needed

Solomon

Ah, it’s about time he found a human as interesting and adorable as you. Where having you been hiding all his lifetime?!

He has wayyyy more fun teasing you than Luke. Your pout just makes things x100 better and cuter

Congrats on becoming his new victim MC

Another one to find you very amusing when you try to fight and won’t stop you either

He will dead serious be recording you trying to fight on his DDD. He’ll make sure that it doesn’t escalate but who is he to stop such entertainment?

He has become tempted to cast a superhuman strength spell on you, and he ends up doing it “on accident” (which has happened more than once)

Lucifer has done the “I’m watching you” thing to him every time he has lmao

But no seriously, he won’t let you get hurt; he won’t even let the chance arise. He’s already pulling you away before you can get yourself worked up fully, dragging you to the library or his room to test some new spells (one that he tempts you can use on these demons). It’s enough to get your attention back on him

You’re a daily source of his amusement and someone that he wants MC, but that doesn’t mean he can afford his favorite human getting hurt on his watch!

He’s no stranger to the gossip about him, nor is he clueless. It’s just all talk anyway, he doesn’t care and neither should you. But it is touching to know that you care this much about him and how he feels…

But he doesn’t want you to do this for him. He’s a powerful sorcerer, he can easily solve this without breaking a sweat if he wanted to, but he doesn’t deem it worthy to even waste a drop of potions on. But since you’re so concerned, maybe a quick kiss would make him feel better?

He thought you were a little gullible, but that’s not the case. You just have a very open and bright personality, one that he finds himself getting attached to more and more as each day passes

If he’s not careful, he might get more enamored with you than he already is-

#obey me #obey me reader insert #obey me x reader #obey me swd #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #obey me simeon x reader #solomon x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me luke #luke is baby

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noteguk · 3 years

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Okay wait does oc every have a pregnancy scare sort of situation like if so how would the convo between them look like?

Honestly? The scare would be more of a jk problem than an oc one 💀 Y’all have to start believing me when I say that she’s the true demon in this situation.

[ ! ] this is a “bad influence” drabble.

— contents and warnings; badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, kind of a pregnancy scare, mentions of unprotected sex and creampies, jk losing his mind

— words; 737

Alright, alright, you had to admit. You could be kind of evil sometimes. Not in the usual way, though, not by stealing and manipulating your way through life; not by mistreating or using others. But by simply going a bit too far on the ways you chose to provoke Jungkook.

You knew what was coming as the idea surged inside your head, pulling the corners of your lips upwards as a mischievous smile started to blossom on your mouth. “You know what’s crazy?” You started speaking, eyes focused on the burger in your hands. It wasn’t the first time you and Jungkook slipped away to have lunch together, but it was probably about to become his most memorable one. “I’ve been having pregnancy symptoms lately.”

Jungkook instantly choked on his fries, one hand collapsing against the steering wheel of his car as he tried to get a hold of himself. When he looked at you, you could see the clear horror reflecting in his eyes. “How can you just drop that on me? What the fuck?”

You smiled, leaning in to steal a fry from his bag. “Chill out, it's probably nothing,” you told him — even if you had been a bit anxious yourself the previous days. The two of you were a bit intense when it came to the wonderous world of creampies and, as much as you two got tested frequently and whatnot, the possibility of conception was never zero. “I take the pill religiously. I have three alarms on my phone, so I’m super methodical about that. I’m probably not pregnant.”

But Jungkook was having none of your reasoning, his eyes lost somewhere beyond the windshield. “Oh my god I’m going to be a dad,” he mumbled.

You playfully slapped his arm. “You’re not going to be a dad, Jungkook, relax,” you told him, taking another bite off your burger. You were also a bit hungrier than normal, but that didn’t mean much considering that your eating schedule had become a mess lately. “I’m probably just super stressed with midterms and my body is acting up. I actually told you about systemic inflammation when—“

His stare snapped towards you, his brain completely ignoring everything you just told him. Everything but the words pregnancy symptoms, that was. “But what are you feeling?” He wanted to know.

You sighed, looking out of your window. For a fast food parking lot, that place was strangely empty. “Well, I’ve been super nauseated lately. At, like, the smallest of things,” you told him. “I’ve been feeling a bit of back pain too. And my breasts have been a bit bigger and swollen.”

“They haven’t,” Jungkook was quick to deny. You raised your eyebrows at him and, instead of producing any sort of counter argument, you decided to give him direct, empirical evidence — by grabbing his hand and putting it directly on your tit. He squeezed it promptly, eyes growing wide. “Oh my god, they are bigger.”

“Right?” You nodded, pushing his hand away. Thankfully, there were no grease marks left on your shirt after that. “I probably just gained weight, though. You know I can be kind of an emotional eater.”

But the poor boy was already too deep into his panic spiral to hear the voice of reason. “I’m too young to be a dad,” Jungkook whined, placing his forehead on the wheel. You took the opening to steal another fry. “I can’t be a dad.”

“Good, because you’re not going to be one,” you said, mouth full. “Do you want me to buy a test?”

He almost cried, his soft little, “Please,” sounding like a strangled whine.

You were evil, but not evil enough to keep that situation going for long. Really, it wasn’t even as if you were acting on it: you were extremely relaxed, absolutely positive that it wasn’t happening, but Jungkook had already chosen his chaotic future. It was an odd switch of your usual dynamic. “Fine. I’ll text you the results,” you agreed, watching as he exhaled deeply. “And try not to have a heart attack until then.”

#bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #x you #x reader #series #bad boy jk #bad boy jungkook #drabble #bi texts #bts x reader #Bts x you

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iyumeu · 3 years

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Pillow Fort Movie Time! - with the Brothers

After begging, pleading, wheedling, and scoring As for all your tests, Lucifer had finally given in and allowed you to use the House of Lamentation's common area one (1) time to do whatever you wanted.

And you wanted to build a pillow fort.

However! You were not content with just a pillow fort. No. You wanted a Cinema Pillow Fort: large, extravagant, and with a television you could watch a movie on.

And so you went to Mammon, knowing that he had a large flat-screen television hoarded somewhere within his room that he wasn't using at all.

⭒☆━━━━━━━⸜₍๑•⌔•๑ ₎⸝━━━━━━━☆⭒

> When you asked Mammon for the television, he was somewhat reluctant to part with it at first. After all, it had cost him a pretty penny and it was fragile!

> However, after telling him what you wanted to do with it and inviting him along (because he would be part of your pillow fort movie party. C'mon. He never leaves you alone and it'll be better to invite him rather than have him try to squeeze his way in. Inviting him would make him feel wanted and you definitely wanted him there!), he had blushed and said that it wasn't that he wanted to help you, but you had asked and he just so happened to be free so he would help you set up both the television and the fort! But he wasn't being nice! He was just... making sure that your pillow fort didn't suck! Because he'd be in there too! (Because he was your first! Your man!) And he didn't want to be in a pillow fort that sucked!

> Mammon had no idea what a pillow fort was. But he wasn't going to tell you that.

> He plugged up the television and hung up the canopy of the pillow fort, layering the blankets and cloth (and why had Mammon been hoarding so much good cloth?) and attaching them to the part of the ceiling where Lucifer usually strung him from so they were nice and secure.

> Your excitement and joy was rubbing off of him and he found himself looking forward to seeing the end result of the pillow fort the two of you were building together.

> Meanwhile you placed some futons and thin mattresses — whatever you had lying around, really — on the ground before covering them up with a few layers of plush and fluffy blankets for the base of the pillow fort.

This was when Belphegor trailed down the stairs, sleepily rubbing at his eye with one hand and holding his pillow in the other, pausing in his step when he saw caught sight of the utter mess you and Mammon had turned the common area to.

⭒☆━━━━━━━ʕ -ᴥ-ʔ━━━━━━━☆⭒

> Belphegor's first thought was honestly to just leave you guys be. It looked like more trouble than it was worth and he couldn't really muster up the energy for it.

> But then you smiled at Mammon so openly and so sweetly, thanking him for his help, that Belphegor suddenly sound himself standing next to you, arms around you and his chin resting on your head.

> "MC... what are you doing?" he asked, ignoring Mammon's demands for him to keep his hands to himself.

> "I'm building a pillow fort!"

> Despite having a demon hanging off of you, you move with a practiced ease as you shifted the futons and mattresses around to ensure that there were neither bumps nor gaps in your base.

> With a similarly practiced ease, Belphie nuzzled his face into the crook of your shoulder.

> "What's a pillow fort?"

> You briefly explain to Belphie what a pillow fort was (pretending to ignore how Mammon listened in on the conversation as well): a construction made out of blankets, pillows, and other soft material resembling a sort of den or nest. It was supposedly very comfortable and cozy.

> This piqued Belphegor's interest. He asks if he can help. He wants to be praised too, like how you praised Mammon.

> You tell him to bring all the pillows he's willing to part with. This was something he could do. He had a lot of pillows, after all, and he would ask Beel to help him drag them all down.

> While Belphegor went to retrieve his pillows, you already had a few beanbags chairs that you bought specifically for this day that you placed around the fort. You piled your pillows together with them to create a few sizeable and steady piles to either lean back or bury yourself in.

Eventually, Beelzebub came down the stairs along with Belphegor, arms pull of pillows and cushions.

⭒☆━━━━━━━ᙙᙖ━━━━━━━☆⭒

> After setting down the pillows and watching Belphegor lie face first into a pile and fall asleep, Beelzebub's attention was immediately drawn to the pile of snacks you had set aside for your movie night.

> First, there were the snacks you had specifically imported from the human realm. Popcorn with various flavors, marshmallows, potato chips, ice cream... you even got yourself two buckets of cotton candy!

> Apart from those, you had spent the day cooking large servings of mac n' cheese, mashed potatoes, and warm soup (in a thermos!). You had also baked cookies and although half of them "mysteriously" disappeared when you were cooling them, you still had quite a sizeable serving left.

> Why did you have so much food? Because you planned ahead of course! From the very beginning, you knew that even though pillow fort movie night was something you planned for yourself, your wonderful, beloved, amazing, clingy demonic housemates would somehow become a part of it.

> The only thing you weren't sure was the number of demons joining you.

> It didn't matter though, considering Beelzebub was here.

> You had to stand between Beelzebub and the food, sternly holding your ground and talking him down. It was an extremely difficult endeavor, considering the lethality of Beelzebub's puppy eyes, but you pulled through. Just barely.

> You lied. You gave Beel the mashed potatoes.

> When you noticed that Beelzebub was still eyeing the rest of your food, you firmly told him that the food was saved for your movie night and that if he wanted to eat it, he had to wait until then.

> "When will movie night start?" he asked.

> "When the pillow fort is set up," you replied.

> +1 helper, get!

> He helped with most of the heavy lifting, bringing the high-backed dining chairs to act as boundary wall for the fort, tying the blankets to them.

> Your pillow fort was taking shape!

> However, it seemed a little too dark. You had completely forgotten to order the fairy lights you planned to use as mood lighting. Thankfully, you know someone who definitely had what you were looking for.

⭒☆━━━━━━━₍ᐢ ̥ ̞ ̥ᐢ₎ ♥━━━━━━━☆⭒

When you knocked on Asmodeus' door to get some of his charmed candles (spelled to keep the flame to themselves! no more burns! no more accidental fires! no more fire hazards! get yours from akuzon now, for only—), he demanded to know what it was for.

> "Is it for a date? A candlelit dinner, maybe?" Asmodeus sidled up next to you, wrapping his arms around one of yours and snuggling close. "Or perhaps to set a romantic, sensual mood for certain... activities?"

> Was it just you or was Asmodeus' grip getting tighter?

> "Since when did you get a paramour anyway," he pouted. "I thought we were friends? Close friends, even! We're supposed to tell each other our secrets!"

> "It's for my pillow fort," you answered. "I'm making one downstairs with Mammon, Belphie, and Beel. You're welcome to join if you want to."

> "I'd love to join!" Asmodeus let go of your arm to grab his candles. "Scented or non-scented?"

> "Non-scented please, we'll be eating snacks while we watch the movie."

> Asmodeus gasped. "A movie? We're going to have a movie date? Ooh, I want to sit next to you! Can I?"

> "Uhhh, I don't mind, but the others might—"

> "It's settled!"

> Asmodeus looked so happy that you decided that you had to make space for him by your side, even if you were faced with ten thousand puppy eyes.

Just then, you saw that Leviathan's door was open and he was looking at the both of you with a pinched expression on his face.

⭒☆━━━━━━━～>º˵)ニニニニ>━━━━━━━☆⭒

> When he realized that you were looking at him, he panicked.

> "MC!!" he blurted out. "I wasn't eavesdropping!"

> His face was flushed red but you noticed that his gaze was still enviously fixed onto you and Asmodeus.

> "Do you want to join us in the pillow fort as well?" you offered. Levi's face turned redder and his grip on the door tightened. Ahh Levi, you're warping the wood.

> "I don't need to join in on your normie activities!" he spat out and then immediately regretted it. "I mean, I don't need to, but I don't mind it! Since you've asked, I suppose I can join in on your movie night and pillow fort!"

> "You don't have to if you don't want to," you said. Half of you was trying to be nice. The other half just wanted to see Levi flustered. You couldn't help yourself. A flustered Levi was a cute Levi!

> Levi mumbled something under his breath. You blinked and leaned in closer.

> "What did you say?"

> "I said I want to!"

> You grinned at him and discovered a brand new shade of red.

> You reached out to link your arms with Asmodeus and Levi.

> "C'mon, let's get back down. The pillow fort should almost be done by now!"

> "Oh right MC," Asmodeus suddenly said. "I've been meaning to ask; what exactly is a pillow fort?"

> "..."

When you were done explaining to Asmodeus and Levi the intricacies of building the Ideal Pillow Fort, you saw Satan standing in the common area, looking curiously at the fort.

⭒☆━━━━━━━(=🝦 ༝ 🝦=)━━━━━━━☆⭒

> You swear, if you had to explain what a pillow fort was one more time—

> "Hello MC, is this... a blanket fort?" Satan asked.

> Oh thank god.

> Or the devil?

> Religion is hard when you're in hell.

> "Yes! I call it a pillow fort but blanket fort is one of its names as well."

> "I see."

> Satan had come across blanket forts — or pillow forts, as MC called them — before in some of the human romance novels he's read. Usually they were used during terribly intimate moments between the romantic leads, or between two very close friends.

> Huddling together and trading hushed whispers, intertwined fingers and shoulders brushing against each other, a small part of Satan has always wanted to try it out with someone.

> Try it out with you, you, it could only be you.

> But he hadn't known how to make a blanket fort and if he were every to do something like that with you, he would want it to be perfect.

> He couldn't find any books on the subject of making blanket forts either so he eventually gave up on his fantasy.

> But now, here it was. The blanket fort.

> It was a little bigger than how he imagined it to be, but it was fine.

> There were also more people compared to how things were in his fantasy but that was also fine.

> He took careful notes in his head. Next time, he would be able to replicate a blanket fort and hopefully you would be willing to share it with him.

> "Would you like to join in?" you asked because Satan was really eyeing the pillow fort with a strange intensity.

> "If you don't mind," Satan replied with a smile.

It was just then that Lucifer came home.

⭒☆━━━━━━━[ᓀ˵◇˵ᓂ]━━━━━━━☆⭒

> "When you said that you wanted free reign over the common area, this was not what I had in mind," Lucifer commented.

> "Haha," you said. And because you already had like six out of seven of the brothers agreeing to join you in your fort, you decided to test your chances with Lucifer. After all, it would suck for him to feel left out. "We're all gonna watch a movie together, would you like to watch with us?"

> There was a long pause as Lucifer looked at you, at the pillow fort, at his brothers, and then at his suitcase.

> Just as you were sure that Lucifer was going to turn down your invitation, he sighed and gave you a small smile.

> Tiny, miniscule, microscopic softening of the eyes, but you knew him well enough to tell that it was a smile.

⭒☆━━━━━━━✿ᏊㅇꈊㅇᏊ✿━━━━━━━☆⭒

> It took a while but eventually you all got yourself settled into the pillow fort. It wasn't a very tight fit, but it certainly was cozy with your clingy demon housemates squeezed tight all around you.

> Each of them had to have a part of their body touching yours, like you were their life source and it brought back memories to the time you went to the beach and, in the hotel, they all formed a circle around you to sleep like some sort of deranged ritual.

> Still, they wouldn't be your beloved demon housemates without all their oddities and quirks and you love them all dearly for it.

> It also helps that not all of them ran hot; some of them actually ran cold so you didn't have to worry about getting overheated anytime soon.

> Anyway, you were comfortable and once you made sure everyone else was too, you loaded your movie and hit play.

"I'd never given much thought to how I would die—"

#obey me #obey me x reader #iyumeu writes om #YES THEY'RE WATCHING TWILIGHT #i love twilight it's such a funny show #like non ironically. i really like it #anyway what if i wrote a twilight au where mc is a human and the brothers are vampires #ah but i have two more ideas i need to write before that...#obey me shall we date #bullet fic #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me x mc #anyway this was written by me for me #because i wanted to yume levi so bad #i want to watch anime with levi in a blanket fort sooo bad #it's not as shippy in some parts... ):#that's fine because the next one will be #still grasping characterization... h #anyway did you know that the pride sin is blue in color?#yeah it tripped me up too because lucifer's like decked in black and red #man can't you color code yourself? you dont even have a hint of blue. at least the other boys wear their color or have it in their eyes #except for beel... didn't know red was gluttony #beel darling please color code urself too--#huh they could make a set of power rangers #pls talk to me about these demonic boys i am alone in this fandom haaaaa #anyway first fic sorry if characterization is weird im not strong enough to get to the later stages... tch #anyway the pearls event was so funny when everyone was like #god i wish i could see how that looked like

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ddarker-dreams · 3 years

Text

Hell Within Reach XII. Chrollo x F Reader

Rating: M (Violence)

Word count: 6.2k. Misc Info: Your Nen | Survosia

[Hell Within Reach index]

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“I want to visit Yorknew as compensation for being hospitalized.”

You open the window to Ash’s room, allowing the fresh breeze to enter. Estella’s face shifts to mortification at Ash’s brazen proposal. Her usual composure is abandoned, as she grabs Ash’s shoulders, ignoring how they grunt in irritation. They’ll be in for a scolding by the looks of it. You fight the urge to smile — how lovely and domestic this feels. Siblings bickering over nothing that matters while ignoring everything that does.

“Not you too,” she whispers. “You must focus first and foremost on your studies. Exam season is coming up, is it not? Traveling should be the last thing on your mind.”

Ash looks past her and toward you as you lean against the windowsill. “Well, what do you say, [First]? I can either go alone or tag along with you. It’s not like you have a steady job or anything.”

“Your ‘hospitalization’ came as a result of your own choices,” you remind them, to which they puff out their cheeks. “Besides, I don’t live a conventional life. I doubt I could take care of you well. Keep studying.”

“Yes, if you won’t listen to me, then listen to your idol—”

“Christ, you’re going to dislocate my shoulder, loosen up a bit,” Ash interrupts, rolling their shoulder to free themselves of Estella’s vise-like grip. “Are you forgetting that none of us live a conventional life? It would just be for a week. Then we could go to Heaven’s Arena, I’ve heard lots of stories about it.”

You exchange a knowing glance with Chrollo who suppresses a smile. How lucky that he doesn’t have to deal with a sibling flooded with painkillers and more time on their hands than they know what to do with. Your mind shifts to someone mature like Pakunoda, surely she’d be better at handling this than you. Her disposition reminds you of what an elderly sibling should be.

“People die in Heaven’s Arena! Or lose function of their body, not to mention that it’s televised for sport. It’s uncouth beyond words. Barbaric, even.”

“What’s the point of fighting if your life isn’t on the line?” Ash shrugs, much to Estella’s horror. “I could learn more there than I would reading biased books about our history that have been shoved into my brain since I could walk. What floor do you think I could make it to, sis?”

You swear that they almost have sparkles in their eyes. The hopeful expression, paired with the guilt they managed to stir up the past few days makes it difficult to smother their excitement. It’s been made apparent to you that Estella’s suffocating overprotectiveness and your apathetic approach hasn’t done Ash any favors, thus you decide to try something new.

“Judging from what I’ve seen, the 200th. The fights past that vary greatly. Some group together to keep a grip on their position because they’re weak, but then there are people…”

Trailing off, you recall how Chrollo is a Floor Master himself. Then there’s that grating man who masquerades as a clown, his matches are hard to miss with how heavily advertised they are. You recall how Phinks once threw a rock at a television that showed a rematch of one of Hisoka’s fights. He might be a member of the Troupe, though that didn’t mean you had to like him, so long as you were cordial.

“Who might present a challenge,” you finish.

Ash’s grin widens. “Say, Chrollo, how about we spar once I’m healed up? I’ve fought every person in a ten-mile radius from here who’s worth the time.”

You almost choke on your water. Do kids these days have no inhibitions whatsoever? The only times you’ve seen Chrollo fight is when he’s stolen someone’s Nen and wishes to test it — that and the night you two met. In each case, the brutality was unmatched. Ash challenged the leader of the Phantom Troupe to a friendly sparring match… you might need to lay down after this. Perhaps this is why Estella gets stressed so easily.

“That all depends on how you answer this,” Chrollo replies. Then, a mischievous gleam dances in his eyes. “Who do you suppose is stronger; your sister or me?”

Ash hums, giving the question considerable thought. They give you a once over, their eyes narrowing, then do the same to Chrollo. You have no idea what he’s getting at, other than wanting something to amuse himself with. It is useful to be able and gauge your opponent’s strength. Any trained Nen user can do so within seconds of seeing another.

Then they nod as if they reached a concrete conclusion. “I think [First] could kick your ass. No offense, though. You’d probably be able to hold your own for a bit if you’re lucky.”

You bury your head in your hands while Chrollo laughs.

The lighthearted atmosphere dissipates at a knock on the door. If you weren’t able to sense a person’s oncoming presence, then that level of skill narrows the scope of potential perpetrators down by a fair degree.

Estella is the one who answers. “Yes, who is it?”

“Xue Ya, my lady. I have received orders from Lord Victor to escort Lady [First] and Mr. Lucilfer to his office with haste.”

“Ah, yes, very well. They’ll be right out.”

So this is it, then, you think.

Estella gives you her most convincing grin, but you catch how the corner of her mouth twitches, her worry seeping through. Ash isn’t so fortunate to be able to control their facial expressions. They fold their hands together on their lap, avoiding your gaze and grimacing. Where the three of you might have separate ideals, there’s a common thread that strings you together — your aversion toward the Avalor family’s patriarch. Your father by birthright, whether or not you considered him to be personally.

Chrollo goes to the door and waits for you to join him. Breaking free from your temporary stupor, you walk by Estella, then Ash on their bed. who lurches forward and grabs your gloved wrist.

“Let’s all eat dinner together tonight, okay?” They mutter.

Your lips part and then close. Is this a promise that you can, in good conscience, make to them? Their concern isn’t unfounded. The last time you were called to your father’s office, well… that’s when you parted ways with your family without so much as a word. At the time, you never assumed your absence would hurt them; presumptuous as it was. Maybe you just didn’t want to be burdened by the guilt that’d come with acknowledging the truth.

Whatever the case, Ash’s current disposition reminds you of a forlorn child. There’s no false bravado, no puffing out of their chest.

You ruffle their hair. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Xue Ya bows her head upon seeing you in the hallway. She doesn’t say more than a polite greeting, wasting no time in bringing you down long and opulent corridors. This is a path that you’re intimately familiar with. On the second floor of the west wing, you would receive your father’s orders, then depart immediately to do what was assigned. There have been considerable changes made. For one, the eccentric man who walks by your side, unflinchingly heading toward goals of his own making.

Chrollo entered a world you thought you’d always keep locked away to yourself. Who would’ve thought you’d hand over the key?

The walk is dead silent, save for the heels of your boots clicking against the ground. Xue Ya stays a few paces ahead, her hands tucked behind her back, black hair in the same pristine bun she’s worn for decades past. Similar to you, she wears gloves, though hers are snow white. A gift from your mother, she once explained. She took great care in ensuring blood never stained the gift from the late Dinara, an impressive feat considering her line of work.

Xue Ya never spoke of your mother much beyond what few questions you asked. She was there to train you, not entertain conversation. Your father may have been the one to pay for her services, but it’s your mother she took to. They had known each other in their youth. The country was even more old-fashioned than it is now. Intermingling between social classes was frowned upon, and as such, you wonder how their lifelong friendship blossomed.

Mother did have a way with people, you suppose.

Unexpectedly, Xue Ya turns on her heel, her face not betraying her thoughts. She closes her eyes, as if in deep contemplation.

“... They’re not here for you.”

Without offering a further explanation, Xue Ya resumes walking. Chrollo glances at you from the corner of his eye, and you shake your head, hoping that he understands you’re in the dark too. Xue Ya wasn’t the type to waste time over superfluous words. Seeing as you spent most of your childhood and early teenage years with her, that was a quality that you must’ve inherited. What she told you must have a meaning.

Victor’s office comes into sight a few minutes later. You sense his presence behind the heavy mahogany doors, yet there’s something more mixed in; something vaguely familiar and threatening. If you’re able to sense it, then Chrollo can as well. What is Victor playing at? The timing couldn’t be a coincidence.

Xue Ya bows her head and stops in the middle of the hallway, likely intending to part ways with you early now that she completed her job. “Tell me, Mr. Lucilfer…”

He pauses as she did. You observe the exchange with muted interest, having never seen your former master so talkative. A side effect of old age, perhaps?

“If my memory doesn’t betray me, then I believe the adage is, ‘we reject no one, so take nothing from us’, correct?” A phrase that seems to register with him alone falls from her tongue. At seeing his understanding, she continues, her facial features relaxing. “And what would the punishment for taking from you be?”

Chrollo smiles in a manner you can only describe as eerie, replying without hesitation. “Death.”

You look from Xue Ya to Chrollo, blinking in confusion over whatever mutual connection they just established. She nods, pleased with his answer, then heads back in the direction you came. Had it not been for the gravity of the current situation, you’d ask Chrollo to elaborate. That discussion will have to wait until later. Your current priority lies with confronting Victor. He’s keen enough to pick up on the odd circumstances surrounding your engagement, you don’t doubt it. Whether or not he knows of your plan, there’s no saying for certain.

“Those doors are uglier than I remember,” you mumble to Chrollo who shushes you by placing a finger over your lips.

The remaining distance closes with each heavy step.

Ever the courteous gentleman, Chrollo opens the doors for you. Light from the high afternoon sun glares in front of your eyes, multiple hues streaming through stained glass windows, uncomfortable memories illuminating in the process. An entire year had come and went.

Nostalgia is at times a curse.

The most significant time in your life was attached, no, entangled to the husk of a man sitting behind an aging desk. It smells of leather and aged books, like a library from a forgotten past.

“Ah, if it isn’t [First],” a leisurely voice pipes up. “It’s been a while.”

You hone in on a man with long, black hair, wearing a gaudy outfit adorned with multiple golden pins. His eyes stick out to you the most, just as they had when you first made his acquaintance. They reminded you of a dead fish’s eyes — devoid of emotion or substance — a bottomless pit. Illumi Zoldyck. He’s joined by his father, Silva Zoldyck, who acknowledges you with little more than a grunt. That would explain the powerful presence laying in wait behind the door. Your heart almost drops to your stomach.

Was your father brazen enough to get rid of you like this? By hiring not one, but two of the infamous Zoldycks? You wouldn’t put it past him, but at the same time, that explanation doesn’t feel satisfactory. There’s no bloodlust permeating in the air. Not even from Chrollo, who for all intents and purposes, could’ve allowed it to slip out had he not been anything less than a master in Nen. The history of the Phantom Troupe is largely unknown to you. What you do know is that Silva killed a member before you joined, surely earning a burning grudge from the Troupe’s leader.

You break the tension by responding to Illumi, taking care to choose your words wisely. “Yes, quite some time has passed since then.”

Chrollo and Silva haven’t broken eye contact since you entered the room. They silently track each other’s movements, stoic facades set in place, daring the other to do something first. In the event a fight was to break out, you’re not sure what the results would be. You do know that this entire area would be leveled and soaked with blood by the end. Would your father risk an outcome like that, just to prove a point? This manor is his pride and joy, a plot of land passed down from one generation to the next.

“Reunions are a lovely thing, are they not?” Victor speaks up from his chair, his authoritative tone grating to your ears. The double meaning isn’t lost on you. “Why, Silva, what would your assessment of my daughter be? She’s grown into a lovely young lady, has she not?”

You want to impale your sword through his throat so he would choke on his own blood.

“She’s been raised properly.”

That’s almost an insult, coming from a Zoldyck, you think.

“Your words flatter me, old friend,” Victor shifts his attention from you to Chrollo, who has remained quiet throughout the exchange, taking in every bit of information presented to him. “And what would you say in regards to this young man?”

Silva considers the question longer this time, his mouth drawn into a taut line. You hold your breath and prepare for whatever comes next. From this distance, you would be the one at an advantage. Your area of expertise is close combat and speed. Everything would be decided in a fleeting instance. Should either of the assassins step forward, the slightest bit of bloodlust emanating from their person, you would slit their jugulars in a single swipe.

Then, Silva says, “A formidable enough threat.”

“Such high praise,” Chrollo replies, agreeable enough to fool any onlooker not privy to their history.

Neither Silva nor Illumi gives you a reason to believe you’re their intended target. You can’t imagine that they’re present for a friendly get-together, those men are too obsessed with work to do anything else; so why are they here? That’s when you recall Xue Ya’s cryptic words, spoken to you in a hushed manner.

“... They’re not here for you.”

Was she referring to them? If so, then why would she warn you, when your father likely set this up to shake you? That is, unless…

“I’d hate to keep you gentlemen from your work,” Victor nods. “The second half will be wired to your account upon the job’s completion.”

They depart without further incident, Illumi waving at you both once before disappearing behind closing doors. The friction thrumming through the room remains in their absence, electric and enough to keep you on high guard. Your father’s attempt to throw you off was a successful gamble. Questions sprout like suffocating weeds in your mind. Should you anticipate an attack from behind? And if so, would they be targeting you alongside Chrollo, or just your boss? These possibilities keep you on edge.

Victor Avalor stands from his chair, maneuvering around his desk and extending a hand to Chrollo, who accepts. They exchange a firm handshake, your father wearing dark leather gloves just as you do. Your appearance takes more after your mother, though there are similarities to him as well; namely your piercing eyes. The shade of which is the same as yours. Victor stands tall over you and Chrollo both, with faint wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. He dresses in standard attire to an elite man. A midnight black suit with a high collar to cover his neck, embellishments kept to a minimum. The only ornament that sticks out is a brooch on his breast pocket, gifted by your mother for their twentieth anniversary. You’ve never seen him without it.

He gestures to the two chairs in front of his desk and you both take your seat. Victor returns to his favored perch, the imposing leather chair with a needlessly high back. After sitting down, he leans his elbows on his desk, steepling his fingers together. His posture is like that of a businessman seconds before closing a big deal. Rather than speaking to you, he focuses on Chrollo, who doesn’t so much as flinch under the unrelenting pressure.

“Now, what does the infamous leader of the Phantom Troupe want with my troublesome daughter? Marriage, was it?”

So he already knew, you think, suppressing a frown. No wonder he’s on high alert.

“Among other thing. My main priority is getting you to let me whisk her away, though.”

“It’s a commendable angle to take,” Victor closes his eyes, ruminating, and sinks back into his chair. “I was left with little choice but to meet you directly after receiving the news. Though I must say, child… I didn’t imagine you would burden your elder sister with the task of leading the family in my stead. Unless you intend to kill her alongside me? Ambition was never your strong point.”

You ignore the last quip and keep your voice monotone.

“Do you not fear death, Victor?”

It’s like you’re looking at your reflection when you focus on his eyes. Eyes that simmer with profound rage, a veneer meant to disguise the full extent of his thoughts. “If it is by my own children, then no. The opportunity is open to whoever is willing. Whether Estella, you, or Violetta take it.”

Your fingers twitch by your side. “You know nothing of your children if you can’t refer to one of them correctly. Is that the grand legacy you wish to leave behind? Echoes of the empty words repeated by generations past, those who grow more forgotten by the day?”

“Glare at me all you wish,” Victor chides, his voice unwavering, reminiscent of thunder roaring amongst storm clouds. “You may scoff at my answer, it changes nothing. If one of you is able to kill me, then I no longer deserve to be head of the Avalor family. It’s as simple as that.”

As if to further his point, his eyes flicker to Chrollo, who silently follows the conversation. “Would you be able to live the life you enjoy now, had it not been for your ability you honed here? I doubt the leader of the Phantom Troupe would’ve extended the same offer to join his ranks had you been weak. Please correct me if I’m wrong.”

Victor’s words are a venus flytrap, meant to draw in unsuspecting prey with the sole purpose of devouring them whole.

“If it was just me you burdened your archaic ideals with, I wouldn’t care,” you furrow your eyebrows together. “Ash and Estella… the moment you can, you’ll push them until they break. I won’t allow it.”

He smiles at that, lips curling menacingly, and he challenges you. “Even if that means they remain weak? You don’t want to always stick by their side to guard them, do you?”

There’s a pregnant pause in the air.

“I won’t choose for them,” you decide. “How they want to live will be up to them. Once you’re dead, that is.”

“Hm. You’ll say that, even when knowing the blood that runs through our veins? What that blood has the potential to do?”

Your breath hitches when he motions to your gloved hands.

“No one asked to be born. Not me, your sisters, or our guest here. It matters little. Whether you bemoan the circumstances of your life or overcome them; the choice is yours. The role of parents is to guide you, so that you may choose the latter option. In that regard, I have completed my role. If your Corruption killed you, then I would’ve failed. It’s as simple as that.”

The day you utilized Corruption for the first time, in a life or death fight with Xue Ya, both your hands were permanently marred. The inky blackness that ran through your veins then is visible to this day, even if you don’t use the technique. What you did was akin to picking up burning coals without the proper protection. Such a consequence is light, compared to those who die immediately after. Then there are the unfortunate souls who become bedridden, hooked up to cold machines, tubes shoved down their throats so that they may live another wretched day. People like…

“If that’s your philosophy, then why did you allow mother to use Corruption so frequently when she couldn’t withstand it? If, that is, you truly care about the strength of your family,” Your hands curl into fists on your lap. “Your words don’t hold up then, now do they?”

The mention of your mother takes him aback, his eyes widening and nostrils flaring. Had you managed to strike a chord within that empty soul of his? You’d love nothing more. If a fate at the end of your blade doesn’t frighten him, then may his wife’s ghost haunt him instead. Chrollo picks up on the shift in Victor’s disposition and conjures Bandit’s Secret. The pages flip furiously, then stop at his intended destination, ropes made of Nen ensnaring Victor’s torso into place. You kick yourself off from the chair, launching yourself toward him and extending your hand. Reaching into nothingness, a dark sliver appears, the gateway to your weaponry. You pull out Set A and prepare to slash at his throat.

“... She never listened when I asked her to stop,” your father confesses, his words holding enough weight to give you pause. You hesitate just enough for the window of opportunity Chrollo opened to close. By the time your blade reaches its destination, your target has lurched back, shattering the window behind him and falling alongside broken glass.

“Shit!” You curse, irritation raging in your tightening chest. “Boss, I’m so—”

“Follow after him.”

You both jump out the window as he did. While falling to the ground below, your eyes wildly scan the courtyard his office overlooks, the tall trees obscuring your view. His ribs should’ve been damaged by Chrollo’s ability if nothing else. This situation is exactly what you wanted to avoid. Victor would have the advantage should he get out in the open, where other servants could overhear the commotion and come to his aid. So long as there was breath in his lungs, he would be the one they receive orders from, even if the orders are to end your life.

Throwing your sword to the side, it’s absorbed back into the same opening from which it came. You conjure your sizable double-sided axe next — the weight pulling your body down as it materializes into your grasp. Moving your arms to the up, you slash through the thickets, using the momentum from your fall to add further force. Rows of trees are cut clean through. Within seconds, they fall over, accompanied by the resounding thump of your heavy axe making contact with the ground.

“Ten meters ahead,” Chrollo calls out. You catch Victor’s retreating figure and click your tongue. All that talk about strength, only to flee at the first sign of a serious challenge? The ropes wrapping around his chest are still present too, slowing him down further. It’s an opening you can’t afford to miss again.

Your axe sinks into a hole in the ground, faithfully awaiting your next use.

Next up is your spear; it’ll make for a nice makeshift javelin. Grasping the handle, you imbue Nen into your arm, then thrust it toward him. It whistles through the air in a blur from the speed at which it travels. The trajectory is on track to pierce through his heart, or if not, something else that’s vital.

Then the ropes binding him disappear.

Victor can move quickly now that he’s no longer constricted. He manages to dodge your spear, the sudden acceleration in his speed not taken into consideration when you threw it. Your attention goes to Chrollo, who is no longer holding Bandit’s Secret in his hand, much to your bewilderment.

“So that’s it, then,” Chrollo murmurs to himself. “Interesting.”

No longer fleeing the scene, Victor turns around and straightens out his tie. “How does it feel, Spider? I’ve been told it’s like having a part of your soul taken from you. A thief such as yourself must not be used to being stolen from.”

Victor’s aura encompasses his body in a swath of pulsing energy as he approaches you both, bloodlust seeping from his pores.

“My ability is Under Lock and Key. The moment my body makes contact with you, for every second until it is activated, I can seal away your use of Hatsu,” he says. “Explaining my ability is the final step to be fully activated.”

How long ago did he shake hands with Chrollo? Five or so minutes ago? This must be why Victor allowed talk to flow freely between you; he was biding time. Five minutes is plenty to change the tide of battle. Now that you know he’s going to stay and fight, your posture shifts from offensive to defensive. Victor came into this prepared.

“Don’t get close to him if you can help it,” Chrollo calmly orders. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pen, and clicks it. “Keep him busy until the timer runs out. Then we’ll finish him off.”

“Yes, boss.”

Victor reaches for a holster obscured by his outer jacket. The sun overhead reflects off a silver barrel — a revolver — the gun firing three shots in your direction. You reach out, conjuring your sword, eyes honing in on each piercing bullet. They’re fast, but you can parry them. Expanding your aura, you employ En, so that the millisecond the bullets enter, you’ll know exactly where each one is. Three shots, so he’ll have three or more before he needs to reload if it’s a standard revolver, you think.

The first bullet enters your En.

Using the fuller of your sword, you parry it, a metallic sound clanging through the air.

The second bullet is next — the speed and path just like the first. You deflect it with ease. After this, you’ll have successfully memorized the velocity of his formally unknown weapon, which makes the process much easier. Nen fights are often decided by the party who has the most information. Victor’s ability and preferred weapon have been revealed in conjunction with each other, putting all his cards on the table for you to see.

The third bullet approaches.

You ready your sword, but something shifts; almost as if the bullet has a mind of its own. Unlike the two before it, the bullet sharply changes directions in the blink of an eye. It goes from trying to hit your heart to aiming for your leg, diving down at the last possible second. There won’t be enough time to deflect it. Just as it prepares to rip through the flesh of your left shin, it unsuccessfully meets a steel wall, then ricochets off. The sheer force is still enough to send you back, knocking the winds from your lungs. So he’s encasing his bullets with his aura? Not just that, he can freely choose to change its direction after being fired…

“A Manipulator, huh,” you readjust your leg, which is now protected by dented armor. “How fitting.”

Victor hums. “Here I was hoping to take your leg out. A shame, truly.”

You click your tongue. He accomplished what he set out to do, the nearby servants began to make their way to the courtyard after hearing gunshots, filing in like obedient ants. He must be trying to overwhelm you both with sheer numbers. You can’t take your eyes off of him with that pesky revolver, but at the same time, your eyes can deceive you. There will be two types of shots — the kind which follows through to their intended destination, and the kind which can switch direction mid-flight. To avoid getting fatally shot, Victor will require your undivided attention.

Chrollo, who was standing behind and likely reaching the same conclusion, pulls his bloodied pen out from the gushing neck of the first servant to rush in. “Focus on him, I’ll deal with the rest.”

You nod. He can’t adequately defend himself without his Hatsu, so the task falls to you.

“And [First]...” he glances at you over his shoulder. “When you see an opportunity to kill him, take it. That’s an order.”

“Understood.”

If only you hadn’t hesitated at that moment. Victor’s words, whether they held truth or not, churned skepticism inside your mind like a bubbling cauldron. You desperately want to know more than he’ll tell. Surely, your mother wouldn’t have worked herself into an early grave? So why did his expression twist in a way you’ve never seen? Is he that talented of an actor?

There’ll be time to worry about that later, you remind yourself. You’ve been given an order. And when you have an order. you’ll follow it to absolute completion, regardless of what obstacles get in the way. Everything will be cut down.

Victor reaches into his breast pocket, procuring three more bullets. The chambers shouldn’t be empty if he fired only three rounds, so why risk reloading…? That’s when a realization strikes you. Even a skilled Manipulator wouldn’t have been able to send you back as far as his final bullet did. The window to change direction should’ve meant the impact itself would be lessened, but if anything, the force was more severe. You felt like you were hit with a miniature freight train. To accomplish this on the level he did, he must’ve used Vows and Limitations.

“I can manipulate the direction of my bullet after being fired, without losing strength. To achieve this, I will sacrifice half my bullet chamber, using only three bullets at a time.” You assume that’s the vow Victor made with himself to gain this edge.

Sure enough, he fires off three bullets in quick succession.

Rather than waiting like a sitting duck, now that you have a rough understanding to work with, you charge forward. The first bullet whirrs past where you once stood, while the remaining two follow after you, as if you were a magnet and they were metal.

Accelerating through the courtyard, the bullets stay hot on your heels, no matter how many steep turns and jumps you make. Deflecting with your sword is too risky; Victor could simply change the trajectory at the last second again.

Which means you’ll have to defend at the last possible second.

Slowing down just enough for the bullets to catch up, you take a deep breath and steady your mind.

One aims for your stomach, and the other, your heart; close enough to touch the hairs of your skin. You conjure your breastplate upon ensuring the bullets won’t change target. Sure enough, it comes into contact with the hastily applied armor, bouncing off and losing momentum. That was a risk you’d rather not take again.

Your head snaps in Victor’s direction.

He needs a few seconds to reload, you grit your teeth. A few seconds that he won’t be given this time!

Kicking yourself off the ground, you blaze forward, armor falling off of you and returning into an abysmal nothingness. Your spear materializes in your outstretched hand, thrumming through the air like a crack of lightning, infused with your aura. Left with no choice but to fight you in close quarters, Victor dodges to the side. He isn’t fast enough to avoid your swift strike — the tip of your spear grazes his face in a deep gash. Blood runs down his cheek as you land, your hands steadying yourself on the ground.

“The time to be judged has come, [First],” Victor speaks your name for the first time you can recall, glowering down at you. “Display the strength I allowed you to harbor.”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice.

You leap to your feet, maneuvering your spear and thrusting it forward in a relentless onslaught; his head your primary target. The two of you engage in a macabre dance with you as the demanding lead. Over and over again, you strike to render him off balance, switching between hitting him with blunt force to the legs or a concussion toward the brain. Just like you were uncertain of where he’d be aiming, he has no way of knowing the destination of your next blow. Arduous seconds drag on, accompanied by wild slashes and hissing metal.

Victor’s stamina is whittling down. It’s subtle, so subtle that you almost wonder if you’re imagining it, but his dodging grows less crisp from the constant pressure you apply. That doesn’t mean you’ll lower your guard. An animal is at its most dangerous when backed into a corner — the same applies to him. He’ll have to counterattack if he wants any hope of defeating you at close range. His strategy to keep a distance between you both means he knew that.

He digs his heels into the turf beneath his feet, his right hand extending out to touch you. So he’s going to try and seal away your Hatsu in a last-ditch effort…?

You react immediately, your spear puncturing through flesh and bone, mangling his hand into ribbons of blood. Through the carnage, his detached pointer finger hits its intended target, while the rest of his mutilated hand succumbs to gravity. For a second, you swear your heart stops beating. He’s going to seal away your Hatsu and leave you defenseless. Victor’s left hand reaches to reload his pistols, and you bite your lower lip, a single option remaining in your mind. To strike swifter than anything beyond what natural law allows. That’s the only way to end him before your Hatsu is sealed away — without your armor, he’ll have no trouble riddling you with holes. No amount of dodging will help you at this close range if he can control the bullet itself.

Corruption!

Smoldering heat sears through your hands, hot enough to incinerate the leather of your gloves, reducing them to nothing. The veins in your hand shine with the dullest of glows, taking on a pitch-black shade; and you grasp the hilt of your spear. It happens too fast for you to know for certain, faster than he can form the thought to seal your Hatsu. You plunge the tip straight through his heart of stone and send his body flying back like a ragdoll, the once green grass singed brown in the path he traveled. Victor’s eyes go wide as he sputters blood up, a gaping hole in place of where his torso should be. The brooch he wore fairs no better. Everything from flesh to fabric is annihilated from existence.

You fulfilled your orders.

Your body feels hot, your arms heavy, and your head light. The world around you doubles in its image, and you shake your head, trying to clear up the incapacitating dizziness. Faintly, you register an arm steadying you in place. Familiar cologne wraps around you and provides comfort. Cedarwood, musk, and spice. You’ve never smelled something so lovely, so comforting. There’s a lot you want to say, and even more that you don’t, but you focus on the basics. Remedying your past mistakes that put you both at a disadvantage.

“Ah, Chrollo,” you mumble, your voice feeling far away through the shrill ringing in your ears. “Your Hatsu… is it…?”

He squeezes you lightly in reassurance. “Yes, it’s returned. I can’t say I enjoyed the feeling of being without it.”

Chrollo doesn’t chastise you or linger on the subject, much to your internal relief.

“Mhm… well, that’s good then.”

This side effect is just as dreadful as you remembered. Through blurry eyes, you glance down at your bare hands, grimacing to see the taunting jet-black lines still present. They were starting to fade before today too. Now, who knows how long you’ll be left with this discoloration. Chrollo intertwines his fingers with yours, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your still warm skin. It’s nice, you think. He’s nice. I think I really like...

“How pretty,” he coos, his thumb trailing over a prominent vein that stops at your wrists. He dotes on you too much, truly. “I’ve never seen a color like it.”

You shake your head, suppressing a smile. “You have questionable taste, boss.”

Chrollo pays no heed to your cynicism and kisses your hand.

“My, my,” Estella’s voice catches your attention. She lifts the skirt of her dress, walking over the substantial piles of bodies with pens protruding from them like it was an everyday occurrence. “Hm. I take it he said you two couldn’t get married, then?”

The most you can bring yourself to do is laugh.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #reader insert #hell within reach #my stuff

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omiscurls · 3 years

Note

Hello you precious human! I saw you're taking request and I thought of something.. mabye you have an idea for this one, if not just ignore the ask >.< what if diluc and zhongli (seperate) don't know that their s/o is an artist and one day their sweetheart gifts them a full ass beautiful portrait of them. Maybe they had a hard day and you wanna make them feel better and surprise them or it's an anniversary gift idk, go wild with it ♡

Have a nice day ! Ily and thanks!

gift(ed)

a/n: thank you for this absolutely lovely ask! hope you enjoy reading this!

plot: the reader makes the character a portrait of them

contains: diluc, zhongli

warnings: none!

diluc

you know he hates his birthday, for very obvious reason

but what hurts even more when you hear it, is that from what his old friends say, he used to love it, once

it hurts to think that it became one more aspect of himself he has grown to forget

so you decide to do something about it

you know very well he doesn’t want any celebrations to be held, so therefore he also denies any gifts, but you can only hope he’ll accept this one

you work your ass off for a good long while, wanting it to be absolutely perfect, not one flaw on your canvas, worried he’d notice right away

when the time comes to finally gift it to him, you’re stressed beyond reason, sweaty palms probably ruining the nice packaging that covers the result of your relentless efforts. you have arranged to meet with diluc on starsnatch cliff, hoping to do it casually enough for him not to notice it’s a birthday thing, but also sure he will know, he’s far too intelligent to fall for anything like this, after all.

the sun begins to set as you sit down on the edge of the cliff, testing how far away from the stone can you move your foot without starting to feel dizzy.

the grass is already getting cold from the humidity of the night air, and you wonder if you should stand up after all, so not to stain your outfit.

it’s only a call of your boyfriend that rips you away from your train of thought.

“darling?” is what diluc says, voice uncertain as he stands below you “you asked to see me?”

you turn around, a welcoming smile crawling up your lips, and even though he doesn’t know the reason he’s here for yet, he already thinks it was worth it, just to see you, smiling like that in the field of cecilias.

“you’re here!” you exclaim happily, almost making him chuckle, because how could he not if it was you who asked?

you get up, careful not to show him the package behind your back too soon. he takes a big step forward, arm already securing you from the edge, hovering around your waist, but not touching you, still.

“let’s get further away from the edge, shall we?” he asks softly, and although you want to laugh at his endless worries, the love and care in his voice makes you swoon internally. “so?” he asks after making sure for your safety. “what’s with the scenery?”

“well” you grin, looking down at your feet, over the minute he’s been here he already managed to make you forget everything you had on your mind. “don’t take it as a birthday gift, cause it’s not that!” you explain rapidly, shaking your head “the only thing i wanted was to make you smile, or, i don’t know, the thing is, i hope you like it-“

you don’t quite know what to say, but diluc chooses to surprise you with a soft look you so rarely get to see.

“darling, it’s not like i have a phobia for birthday gifts or something” he assures “it just feels a bit weird to celebrate myself on such an anniversary, but i’m honored that you spent your time with me on your mind, i really am”

you feel more confident with that on your mind, and you hand him your gift.

he takes it, raising an eyebrow, slowly untying the ribbon you ornamented the packaging with. as he slowly unwraps the paper, his eyes notice something he genuinely didn’t expect.

it’s a painting of him, or at least he thinks so, smiling with his eyes closed, hand tilted and resting on his hand, slight blush creeping up his cheeks. he wonders if that’s really him, but the physical resemblance is unquestionable, even though he doesn’t remember the last time he has seen this kind of expression on his face.

“i-” he attempts to speak up, but stutters “where have you had this ordered?”

you grin even wider, knowing the biggest surprise is yet to be dawned upon him.

“i didn’t” you explain “i painted it myself, do you like it?”

you catch a sparkle shoot through his eyes before he lifts them up from the painting to find yours.

“no, really?” he asks in shock, quickly going back to admiring the gift. “it’s- you’re- you’re very talented, do you know that? it’s so detailed-” he shakes his head slightly, having a hard time comprehending all that was happening.

“i managed to sneak a photo of you on our anniversary dinner” you say “i wouldn’t be able to paint this without a reference, plus, i’d like you to know what moment i based this on. if i’m able to make you smile like that from time to time, then i never want to stop.”

you can swear his eyes glisten with a thin layer of tears forming, but he blinks them back as soon as possible, and you can’t get a good look. instead, he looks at you again, love practically seeping through his gaze.

“thank you” he says quietly, smiling just how you like it, not even fully aware that he is. he approaches you to wrap an arm around you and press a quick peck to your forehead. “this just might be the best birthday i’ve ever had.”

zhongli

you’ve been to someone’s birthday party together

and it came in the conversation between the two of you that he has never received a proper gift

offering is not a gift

it was a whole deal, with choosing the present for that person, wrapping it up, decorating...

and you decided - why not just make him something, with no occasion necessary? maybe he’ll like it, maybe he’ll just acknowledge it’s existence, worth a shot

so there you are, waiting outside the parlor, gripping on the package in your hands, and waiting for him to come out.

it feels like ages since the moment you arrived, but can’t be longer than a couple of minutes. zhongli has no liking to material possesions, and you’re aware of that, so you’re hoping he’ll value the effort and thought you’ve put into your gift. you know he’d never hurt your feelings, not on purpose, at the very least, but you’re still kind of worried.

“hello there” you almost jump out in surprise as you hear a tranquil voice behind you.

“oh my, you scared me!” you let out a breathy laugh, but he seems to have ignored your comment.

“have you been waiting long?” he asks instead, to which you shake your head slightly.

“no.” you say immediately, a gentle smile welcoming him as always. he nods and attempts to take your hand, intent to go on a walk in his mind, but stops, surprised as he feels the rectangular object in your hand.

“oh, are we planning to go to someone’s party again today? i wish you’d included me in the gift picking process this time too, it was entertaining the last we did it” even though he says that, no disappointment shows up behind his eyes as he waits for your response.

“ah, no, you see-” you take a breath “that’s actually for you”

his eyebrow rises ever so slightly as he mentally studies what date is today and if he has forgotten about anything.

“oh” he finally mumbles “and may i ask to what do i owe the pleasure?”

his talent with words seems to be on his side, and he’s apparently able to talk himself out of the confusion you put him in.

“to absolutely nothing” you shrug, smile growing bigger, as his mind spins even harder, not getting the point more now. “other than being my amazing person.” you add.

he feels his heart flutter in a weird pattern, but ignores it as you place the gift in his hands. he just sort of looks at it for a while, and you’re already scared he’s going to say something unexpectable, but instead he starts to unwrap the thing gently and carefully.

you watch his eyes widen as he sees himself, painted by your hand, the softest of smiles painting his expression in warm colours. to you, that’s just how he looks everyday, but to him?

this is just one of many forms to him. he doesn’t look in mirrors a lot, he doesn’t pay much mind to it, he never studies his appearance how others do. he doesn’t get insecure in a way humans do.

it feels foreign to look at the picture. it feels as if he’s looking at someone, indoubtly at himself, but through your eyes instead. he never knew his eyes looked this kind, and that the corners of his lips didn’t lift evenly when he smiled, instead having one slightly above the other.

you notice so many things, he realizes, and he looks up at you, a wandering gaze searching for your eyes, as he struggles to comprehend just how wonderful of a chance he had gotten to meet you.

he had seen miracles come to life and crumble before him, but never once had he though he’d be one to witness something as beautiful as your love and your affections are.

meanwhile you wonder if he’s searching for the right words to say you “just shouldn’t have”

you almost speak up, about how you just felt like doing something like this, and he doesn’t have to keep it, or something, but he manages to comment before you do.

“your work is gorgeous, dear.” he says blandly, but quickly adds “but you’re the best gift i could ever encounter.”

#genshin impact #genshin boys #zhongli x gender neutral reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli headcanons #zhongli x reader #zhongli #diluc #diluc fluff #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc imagines #diluc x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff

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treesnutsandleaveswrites · 3 years

Text

Stay Close

pPairing: The Bad Batch x Reader (Polyam)

Summary: After working non-stop, you go on a mission with the Batch and you get to be on the field with them this time. (Polyam series pt 6)

Warning: ANGST, some fluff, mentions of slavery, depictions of violence, blood and injuries

Word Count: 2190

A/N: I FINALLY KNOW CROSSHAIR'S LITTLE THING ON THE SHIP IS CALLED A GUNNER'S MOUNT CUZ OF THE RECENT EPISODE HAHA

pt v, pt vii

XXXXXXX

It had been a week ever since your break in Coruscant. That time and the moments that followed have been playing in your head non-stop ever since you got back to Kamino. However, once you got back, you were swamped with work. You were one of the only non-clone communications officers based on Kamino, so you had to deal with some data that came in from off-planet bases. It was frustrating to say the least and most of the clones who dealt with communication for their squadron left most of their work unprocessed, so you basically had to clean up after them. Due to work being unprocessed and sorted could cause a malfunction or even a virus to attack the computer system on Kamino. That would result in multiple horrible outcomes if the separatists get access to anything on the clones or any other upcoming projects the Kaminoans were working on for the Republic.

It seemed like you were living in that communications room because none of the boys really saw you anywhere else. It concerned them greatly and they decided to intervene before you die from overworking yourself. You were typing away on the computer when the door slid open which let in the batch one by one. You didn’t bother to turn to acknowledge them as you were sorting out multiple files.

“Mesh’la?” Hunter called.

“Hm.” You responded nonchalantly, still working.

“You’ve been at this for 93 hours, 34 minutes, and 20 seconds.” Tech explained while looking at one of his devices, “Working at this rate is concerning and unhealthy, especially for a simple being like you.”

“Huh… so if a clone were doing this they’d be able to work just a bit longer?” You asked, not looking away from the computer.

“What he’s trying to say, cyare, is that you need to take a break…” Echo insisted, placing one hand on your shoulder.

“I’m almost done, I swear.” You murmured, looking over data being transferred.

“Lucky for you, darling. I’ve created a program to help sort stuff out.” Tech went to the computer and plugged a small goober into one of the ports on the console, “It’ll notify me when it’s done sorting.”

“Come on, ad’ika, time for rest!” Wrecker moved to pick you up and carry you out of the communications room while the others followed.

You all arrived to their room and Wrecker tossed you onto one of the bunks, which caused you to laugh gently. You sighed, relished the feel of the bed under you, then it dipped slightly. You looked to see Hunter with a gentle smile on his face, which you returned before he pulled you up onto his lap. You pushed off the bandana around his forehead which caused some hair to fall into his face so you pushed it away for him. He held you closer, placed his face into your chest, and sighed.

“You alright, Hunter?’ You murmured, caressing the hair on the back of his neck.

“He’s missed you, like the rest of us have.” Echo smiled while cleaning his mechanical hand.

“It wasn’t like I was off-planet. I was just working.”

“Well, the idea of you working usually involves being with us most of the time.” Tech explained, “So it was odd not seeing you for such a long period of time.”

You hummed before kissing Hunter’s head, “I missed you all too…”

The next day, all of you were sent on an important mission. The Kaminoans didn’t give you much detail, only saying that it was urgent. You sat on the Havoc Marauder, looking over the map of the planet on your holopad.

“We have to be careful, this planet is famous for raiders, thieves, and smugglers.” You stated, looking everything over.

“We’ve handled much worse than that combined!” Wrecker laughed while slapping Tech’s back, almost causing him to drop the device he was holding. You shook your head, made your way out of the cockpit, and found Crosshair cleaning the parts of his sniper rifle.

“Do you think it’ll come to that?” You murmured, crouching beside him.

“Have to be prepared for anything, sarad. Especially on a planet like this.”

You nodded gently, picking up one of the pieces, “You should teach me…”

“How to put it together, or how to shoot?”

“Both… but we can take it one step at a time.” You looked at him with a smile.

He hooked your chin, “Well, let’s work on your aim without a blaster first. And test how good your eyesight is. When we get back to Kamino, I’ll show you the shooting range.”

“Kamino has a shooting range?”

Your question caused Crosshair to smirk as he finished cleaning all the pieces.

You shook your head with a small laugh, “I guess I don’t know Kamino as well as I should.”

He nodded gently and helped you up. Before you could move away from him, he grasped your wrist. His smirk was gone, his eyes were now focussed, and his stature became tense. He raised his other hand to cup your cheek and look into your eyes.

“You stay close to us…”

“I know, Cross…”

He nodded before going to the gunner’s mount to wait there until you landed. You strapped in as you were arriving at your destination. Once you landed, you all geared up and got ready to tread through the town to reach your target. You wore simple civilian clothing because it wasn’t safe to be wearing a Republic uniform full of outlaws and mercenaries. You pulled up the hood of your cloak over your head before nodding to Hunter. You all then left the ship and headed into town.

Tech was using a tracking device while you walked the streets, he was babbling on while you and the others looked cautiously at your surroundings. There were multiple stalls along the edge of the dirt street, selling many different things including spice, weaponry, and droid parts. You were in the center of the batch, and they urged themselves closer as if to shield you from danger. Hunter turned his head to you, which caused you to nod reassuringly. Even if you couldn’t see his eyes through the visor of his helmet, you knew he was checking up on you. You all then turned into a vacant alleyway to discuss how you will find the target faster. The boys discuss different strategies and you tried to listen to them, but then the crack of a whip caused your attention to be caught outside of the alleyway. One of the vendors was holding the weapon and using it against a young twi’lek. They were speaking two different languages, so the chaos was uncontrollable. You winced while watching and couldn’t stand it any longer. The batch noticed at the last second that you had rushed out of the alley to stop what was happening.

“Lodestar!” One of them called to you, but you ignored it and blocked the vendor from hitting the young twi’lek again.

“That’s enough!”

The vendor growled, “The little slave was stealing from my stall!”

You quickly placed down some currency, “Now it is paid for.”

The vendor took the money and scoffed, “They are lucky this time. Next time, I will tell their master.”

You shook your head and urged the twi’lek away from the stall. Then you crouched down and looked at the child’s injuries, whispering gently. You were lucky enough to be familiar with many languages due to your past, so making conversation with the young twi’lek wasn’t hard. Footsteps approached the both of you, so you let the child run off and turned to see the batch. It was going to be no surprise that they were upset with you, so you said nothing and followed them. Tech had found the location of the target, so you all moved quickly. You had to separate due to the package you had to retrieve being heavily guarded. You were with Tech, helping him monitor the motion inside of the small building where your package was being held. You scanned the holopad before speaking into your communicator.

“Careful, Hunter. There are multiple bodies coming toward you.”

“See them. Find how many are guarding the package.”

Tech diligently moved the camera and you watch on the holopad.

“There,” You signalled Tech to stop and looked over the thermal radar, “Five that I can see, Hunter.”

“Cross, what’s your status?”

“None up top. All clear here.”

“Wrecker, Echo?”

“Almost have the grate open.” Echo responded.

“Charges are all set.” Wrecker confirmed.

You winced gently, looking down at your arm where the whip had caught you. You thought it was only a graze on the fabric, but it was deeper and blood was staining your sleeve. Tech saw it and was about to say something, but then there was noise near where you two were hiding. It was one of the guards and he was sniffing around. Your eyes widened and you looked to Tech before placing the holopad in his hands carefully.

“Our location is about to be compromised, I’m moving now.” You said quickly before climbing up to the roof of the building next to you. You looked over the ledge and kicked a small piece of rubble, getting the guard. He looked up and saw you. You smiled gently before running along the tops of the buildings. He ran along the street following your trail.

“Cross, I’m coming to you.”

“Excellent.” He responded and he started to set up his rifle before you reached him. You jumped onto the roof where he was set up and turned to see the guard shot down. He then stood up and looked at you. You sensed the disappointment.

“What?”

“You were reckless today.”

“I stayed close.” You shrugged, looking at the cut on your arm. He grabbed it gently and looked at it.

“How did you not notice that?”

You were quiet while looking at him, but then a small glint caught your eye and you gasped before pushing him away from you.

Blaster noises distracted the team from the mission, knowing it came from your and Crosshair’s location. Hunter had retrieved the package and had come out of the grate where Echo and Wrecker were..

“Lodestar! Come in!” Static.

“Crosshair!” Silence.

Then, guards started to rush around the corner. The three batchers rushed away and Wrecker had set off the explosives he placed around that area.

“Tech, head back to the Havoc Marauder! Echo and Wrecker will meet you there!”

“What about you?” Echo asked.

“I’ve got to find Crosshair and Lodestar.”

Hunter handed Wrecker the package and they went their separate ways. Hunter managed to get to one of the rooftops and rushed to where you and Crosshair were. He jumped onto the roof where you were and saw the dead alien, a blaster next to him. Then his eyes led to familiar white hair.

“Crosshair!” He rushed over to his side and saw you laying in his lap, unconscious, with a blaster wound on your side. He immediately noticed the race of Crosshair’s heart, and sensed his growing shock, so he placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“We have to go. We have to get back to Kamino.”

Crosshair nodded before letting Hunter pick you up and rushed with him back to the Havoc Marauder. They arrived back to the ship.

“Tech! Echo! Get us out of here now!” Hunter called as he boarded the ship with you in his arms. Wrecker was frozen with shock when he saw you.

“Ad’ika.” He whispered.

The ship moved quickly out of orbit and it was only a few minutes before everyone gathered together. Tech and Echo were rendered silent when they saw you on the floor with Hunter by your side as he exposed your wound.

“I need a bacta patch, now!”

Crosshair was the one to move to get it and give it to him. He took his place on your other side and helped Hunter.

“So...so pale…” Tech whispered, almost speechless as he looked at your condition.

Hunter was getting extremely overstimulated with everyone’s heartbeats and breathing, but he tried to focus on you. Tech was right: you were extremely pale, but as Hunter sifted through the different pulses reaching his ears, he found your weak one. He cupped your face.

“Mesh’la…” He called, “C’mon, mesh’la.”

“Can we lightspeed jump to Kamino?” Echo asked Tech.

“I...I don’t know…”

“Figure it out, Tech! Hurry!” Wrecker pleaded, his eyes averting from you to him.

Crosshair was extremely quiet with his eyes only on you. A million thoughts ran through his head. It felt like minutes before he spoke.

“Do the jump.”

“What?” Tech asked.

“Do the jump, now.” Crosshair repeated.

“We don’t know if it’ll make the wound worse.” Echo explained.

“If it does, we’ll be at Kamino!”

“Cross, it’s too dangerous-” Echo started. “We have to, or else the Kaminoans will have no patient, and we’ll have a dead officer!” Crosshair snapped, gripping your hand in his.

The rest of the squad looked to Hunter, who nodded.

“Do the jump.”

XXXXXXX

Sorry for the wait haha -Tree <3

#the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #bad batch #bad batch x reader #hunter #crosshair #wrecker #echo #tech #clone force 99 #tbb polyam series #treesnutsandleaves writes #hunter x reader #crosshair x reader #wrecker x reader #tech x reader #echo x reader

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Hi!

Happy New Year! 😃 There’s so many to choose from but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was the one I wanted to pick.

Prompt #35 from Prompt List #2 - Frankie Morales

Thank you!

#35: “About the baby...it’s yours.”

Ohhh, this is inch resting! Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Reader ; warnings: pregnancy (and any and all things related to it), mentions of sex, drinking, smooches.

Frankie Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“No,” you sighed in frustration as you looked at the small white stick in your hands. It was a simple pregnancy test, but right now it felt like a ticking time bomb. You read over the singular word in frustration before tossing it onto the floor and watching as it skidded to a stop next to the bathtub.

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

It couldn’t be right though, surely it had to be a false positive. But then...what about all the rest of the tests you had taken? All nine others were lined up on the counter, a testament to how determined you were to find out that you weren’t pregnant. But...could ten tests really be lying? What were the odds that all of them were false positives?

“Shit,” in a burst of anger you tossed them all off the counter and onto the floor, tears already running down your cheeks as you sank to the floor in frustration. How could this have happened? You were so careful every other time; you were on birth control and always made sure to have your partners use a condom. And yet...here you were. Pregnant and alone, crying on your bathroom floor.

You pulled your knees up to your chest as you decided to get all your tears out then and there before making a plan. One way or another, something was going to need to happen - and as soon as possible hopefully.

But then, as you sat there, crying and ignoring the incessant notifications on your going off on your phone, it hit you.

Frankie. Francisco Morales. He’d been the last person you had sex with.

Holy shit. No - there was no way. You couldn't be pregnant by your best friend that you'd secretly loved for years and had a drunken one night stand with. Absolutely not. Nope...that would be...the worst thing in the eternity of the universe. Some sort of vile joke that the universe would be playing on both of you. It couldn’t be him...no, no, no.

But...he was the last person you'd had sex with. And before then...it had been months since anyone else. Unless there was some sort of divine intervention on behalf of your uterus and you were some sort of abstinent Mary, Frankie Morales was the father of your baby.

The baby - not your baby. Rather, the small peanut inside of you. Referring to it as anything else was too...real. It was just a baby - a maybe baby. One you weren’t even sure you’d keep, wanted, or would tell Frankie about. But...shit. You couldn’t not. It would come out somehow, if not now, then later, in a moment of indiscretion, or another drunken evening. You had to tell him...even if it was just to let him know what happened before you made some sort of decision.

But what the hell were you supposed to tell him? Oh by the way, remember when we had sex two months ago? Yeah, well, I’m pregnant.

You must have forgotten to take your birth control, and neither of you must have had enough sense to remember a condom. Or one of the two failed...or both. Either way it was a perfect storm that resulted in the worst possibility.

The worst part of all?

Despite the upset and sheer terror you felt, there was a small part of you that wasn’t...entirely devastated. You’d never given much thought to children, having been perpetually single for the better part of the last decade, and hopelessly in love with your best friend. If there was a man that you wouldn't have minded children with, it would have been Frankie. He was a good man, always trying to be better, trying his best, and despite all the shit he’d been through in life, he still managed to have a soft, loving heart. He would have made a good father, that much you knew.

But shit. He was only your best friend, and unlike you, he wasn’t deep in love. Would he even want a baby? A child he’d have what - half custody of while you had the other? It would never work, it wasn’t meant to be...it just...no. There was no way in hell this was going to work out.

With that thought in your mind, you rested your head on your knees, crying and shaking as you tried to wrap your head around it all.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey,” you felt a soft touch on your arm as you heard your name being gently called, “hey, Bee...wake up.”

You opened your eyes, blinking away the dried tears and bleariness as you took in the face looking back down at you with a gentle smile. Momentarily forgetting your predicament, you offered him a smile of your own as he held out his hand to help you up to your feet.

“Frankie,” you gave him a curious look, “what are you doing here? It’s not movie night or anything.”

“I’ve been calling and texting,” he nodded in the direction of your discarded phone, which was blinking at you with notifications, “you didn’t answer and I got worried. It’s not like you. I wanted to see if you were up for getting a drink tonight? The brewery’s got a new ale out.”

“I...umm,” you quickly remember your situation as a sense of panic set into your bones. The tests and discarded boxes were still all over the floor, one right next to your phone. He had to have seen them. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Frankie.”

“Yeah,” he said as he gave everything the once over. Another worry suddenly crossed your mind; you’d been drinking the last two months. Granted it hadn’t been anything crazy, just a beer here and there and a glass of wine on occasion, but still. Shit. He cleared his throat awkwardly as you scurried around to pick everything up. Ever the gentleman, he stepped into help, pausing slightly when he noticed all the positive tests, “you...ugh...you’re pregnant?”

“I-I guess,” you offered him the most neutral look you could muster up, “I just ugh...found out. It’s a bit of a surprise to me too.”

“Oh...you don’t…” he swallowed thickly as he nodded, more to himself than anything else as wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole, “do you…”

“I don’t know a lot,” you cut him off before he could continue his line of questioning, “i didn’t really know I was...pregnant until I missed my period this month. I-I-I thought last month was a fluke but two months in a row is disconcerting. So I panicked and got some tests.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened as you could practically hear the gears turning in his head as you realized what you said. You might as well have told him then and there, “I thought you were…”

“I am,” you tried to cover up your own tracks, “I’m on birth control, so I’m also a little...surprised. I’m trying to keep calm, but in all honesty I’m freaking out.”

“It’s okay, Bee,” he promised softly as he gently put his hand on your cheek, brushing his thumb over your cheek. It was hard not to melt into his touch and confess everything then and there, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, whatever support you want, I’m here, every step of the way.”

“Frankie...I-I don’t know what to say…” your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to break down in a fit of tears again. It would be better to get it out in the open now and to just say it and let him know and -

“Either I get to be the best fun uncle, or...I’ll be here for you either way,” he insisted with a smile small before pulling you into a gentle, warm hug. You were stunned into silence, but decided to let things happen, wrapping your own arms around his waist as you buried your head in his chest.

You wouldn’t tell him now. But soon. You needed to. For your sake as well as his own.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was an odd feeling, walking out of the doctor’s office, clutching a stack of papers with more information than you knew what to do with, including a set of grainy black and white images. You’d cried - as you’d often been doing lately - but somehow you weren’t upset. It had been about two weeks since your surprise discovery, and with each passing day, it became more real.

You were still confused, more than you had ever been, but somehow you’d grown attached to the idea of the little bean that was inside of you. It was scary, more than anything else in life ever had been, but you...just...it was a lot.

No you just needed to tell Frankie.

It seemed like every time you’d tried, something or someone came up and interrupted, pulling his attention away or making it a most inopportune moment. But...shit. You couldn’t let this go much longer.

You’d tell him. Tonight. There was no doubt in your mind it was time to do it and then the pieces could fall wherever they landed and you’d figure it out. Keeping it from him just wouldn’t be fair, and you couldn’t imagine a world where you had this baby and Frankie only thought of himself of an uncle.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you walked into your apartment, ready to sit down and relax - and get yourself hyped to tell Frankie - before he came over for your weekly movie night.

But when you got in, your heart plummeted when you saw Frankie already in the kitchen, messing around with some snacks. Shit, shit, shit. He wasn’t supposed to be there for at least another two hours.

“Bee,” he grinned at you when spotted you, excitedly pointing at the various treats he was setting out, “you’re just in time!”

“And you’re early,” you tried to make light of it as you walked in and set everything down on the table, “I wasn’t expecting you for a while.”

“I know,” he grinned with a wink, “but I knew you’d be home soon, and wanted to do this for you. You’re dealing with a lot, and I just want to help however I can. How did it go? Did you get more information...what am I saying? Of course you did...how was it?”

“It was a lot,” you admitted, just like everything right now, “the doctor was really helpful and gave me so much information. But..ugh...the ba - it’s fine right now.”

“The baby?” he asked as you nodded, setting down the stack of papers, letting the sonogram images land on top, “you can call it a baby, Bee!”

“I know,” you huffed lightly with laughter at yourself, “it just...makes it feel so real. Calling it a baby. I dunno.”

“Bee’s having a baby...Baby Bee,” he said excitedly as he looked over your stack of papers, his soft brown eyes landing on the pictures, “maybe...a maybe Baby Bee…”

Before you could stop him, he reached for the sheet of images, bringing it up to his face as he furrowed his brows to study them closely. A small smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he looked at them, and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. You were so in love with this man, it was almost painful sometimes. And you here you were, having his baby and he didn’t know, he wasn’t yours...that bad it all that much harder. Before you knew it, tears were running down your cheeks, and a sniffle escaped your lips.

“Umm, F-Frankie…: you whispered softly as he looked at you with a concerned expression, “about the baby...i-i-it’s...it’s yours.”

He stiffened for a moment, a million different expressions crossing his features as he looked between you and the sonograms and back at you. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, all he could manage was a small, “what?”

“I-I know I should have told you sooner, right when I found out and you came in,” you were crying now, a blubbering mess, “I just couldn’t do it...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this...you’re the only one I’ve been with in almost a year and I-I-I know it was a one night drunken thing, and I thought we were careful but this...just happened. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s mine?” he asked softly as you nodded, watching as his eyes flicked to your still non-existent bump, “we’re having a baby? Together?”

“I-I know this isn’t what anything we expected,” you wiped at your eyes, “I-I don’t expect you to help or have anything to do with it, but I...I want to keep it…”

Frankie inhaled and exhaled deeply, setting the images back down before turning his attention to you. His gaze was on your face, eyes soft as ever before he closed the small distance between your bodies. Before you could ask what he was doing, his hands found your face, touching it tenderly for a few moments, almost as if he was asking you for permission, which you readily granted, before crashing his lips onto yours and kissing you deeply.

And it felt so...perfect. So natural as his arms wrapped around your waist and you put yours around his neck and held him close. He didn’t let you go, reluctant to part his lips from yours for even a moment, only doing so when you were left dizzy and breathless.

“I love you, Bee,” he whispered softly, chasing your lips with his own, “always you, for so long. It wasn’t supposed to be a one night stand, I just got so foolish and scared…”

“I love you, Francisco,” you promised, “you’ve been it for me for so long. I never thought…I never thought you would love me back. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be loved by you.”

“You’ve been loved by me for so long,” he promised, “you never had to wonder. I should have told you sooner.”

“Now is good,” you grinned at him, your head spinning with everything that was going on, “now is perfect.”

“Bee,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, stopping at your lips, “and Baby Bee. I couldn’t ask for anything better. I am so in love with you.”

“I love you more than anything,” you ran a hand through his dark locks, a few tears already spilling down your cheeks again. He beamed at you, gently wiping them away, “but, Frankie...you’re okay...with the baby? Keeping the baby?”

“Yes,” he whispered softly, his own eyes glistening with tears as he nodded, “yes. I want this...I’ve always wanted this. I want everything with you - you and only you.”

“Francisco…” you smiled, and just like that, you lit up his entire world, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he breathed you in, “my Bee and Baby Bee. What more could I ever ask for?

»»————-　♡　————-««

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