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#it seems like I've been this way my whole life and what point is enough enough?
exeggcute · 23 hours
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the internet and Tumblr in general was already full of shut ins with anxiety and COVID has obviously transformed many of them into hypochondriac agoraphobes who are well trained on moralizing lol. there are people who still think we should never have ended lockdown and that it somehow had no negative social or economic impacts, or at least that the economy is fake enough that those impacts weren't really real
lol yeah. answering this in daylight hours I feel like I should preface it with a note about how I've been masking consistently for four years straight (and have only recently started easing up in certain situations), have lost respect for and/or ended friendships with people who were doing reckless shit during the height of the pandemic, all that. god knows I have an anxious hypochondriac shut-in streak lol. but if the bitch with contamination OCD who's been doing the "disinfect your phone when you get home" thing for years and years before covid and who has literal nightmares about people wearing shoes in my house is like hey guys I think you might be exaggerating some of this just a bit. well. imagine how literally anyone else is gonna feel...
also for reference the thing that got me on this soapbox was an article I saw shared on bluesky about how san francisco is currently experiencing "the highest covid wastewater rates ever measured," which immediately sounded off to me, so I read the damn article, and what it actually seemed to be saying was that there's a summer spike in CA right now same as there's been for the last several summers, and SF currently has a higher rate than any other region in CA at the moment. (the article was legit poorly written to the point where it was hard to tell, but a different wastewater graph someone pulled up seemed to corroborate my reading of this. the current spike is still a fraction of pre-vaccine spikes.)
which, like, is useful information even without the embellishment! I would appreciate knowing that so I could adjust my behavior accordingly. and I'd like to believe that your average person who's receptive to stuff would also take the truth in good stride. so why do we have to fucking lie about it lol.
and to some extent I really do get the impulse to catastrophize because there's no way around it: we super duper fucked up the initial covid response. many individuals were callous and most institutions failed to protect us. but at the same time (1) barn door situation and (2) I don't think exaggerating risks now does anything to compensate for the downplayed risks being peddled to us for the last several years. it's more than fair to celebrate wins when they come (all the new tools in our anti-covid toolbelt, improved case/death rates) without erasing the many many losses up to this point.
still gonna wear a mask on airplanes and shit for the rest of my life though. I'm glad that's an iota more socially acceptable now (and jealous of places where it's already been the norm this whole time) because people are fucking nasty!!!
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Ignore this, I'm just having a hard time
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talesofesther · 5 months
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first in my heart
Astarion Ancunin x Reader
Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.
A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.
Word count: 4,7k
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"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."
It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.
To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.
And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.
Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.
He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.
Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.
It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.
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The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.
The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.
You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.
With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.
"What are you up to, my sweet?"
The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.
The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.
You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.
Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."
You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.
Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"
The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."
Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."
He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.
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Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.
You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.
Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.
He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.
And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"
A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.
You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.
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It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.
The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.
When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.
You didn't.
You said you cared for him. You hugged him.
There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.
Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.
He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.
Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.
Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.
There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.
With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.
It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.
With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.
But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.
The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.
Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.
Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.
"Astarion?"
With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.
"Is everything okay?"
Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.
Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"
The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.
You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."
But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?
Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.
He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.
Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.
He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.
Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.
Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.
And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.
He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.
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You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.
You could only hope he would adore it just as much.
It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.
Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.
You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.
Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.
You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.
With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.
You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.
"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.
He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.
You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.
"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.
You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."
His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.
"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.
A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.
You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.
"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.
For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.
You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.
"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.
Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.
"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"
You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."
A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.
You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.
Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.
The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.
A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.
He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.
People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.
Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.
Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.
You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.
Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.
"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.
"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."
Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.
There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.
Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.
You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.
When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."
You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."
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Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us
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smusherina · 2 months
Text
yard work - chapter 9 (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.
warnings(s): use of the d-slur, the one for lesbians. use of the q-slur, the one that’s been taken back.
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 10
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You lost track of time, mind consumed by Regina's mouth on yours. The feel of her lips, her hands playing with the hairs at the back of your neck, made you tingle. You didn't know much about actual technique when it came to kissing, but taking cues from and mirroring Regina seemed to work. When she opened her mouth and bit your bottom lip, you chanced a little tongue. Met with welcome, the kiss deepened. The sensations had you shivering, hands gripping tightly at Regina's waist.
"Bed, now," Hazy and a little slow, you chased Regina when she pulled away, making a pathetic little sound at the loss of her. She stood up and pulled you with her, roughly pushing you onto your back. Sprawled on the bed, you could only watch as she climbed over you. Soon, her lips descended down on yours again and your eyes blinked shut.
Then, startling you like a bucket of cold water thrown onto you, her hands snuck under your shirt. Her nails brushed at your ribs and you, despite the nervous excitement bubbling, began to feel apprehensive.
"Reg," You mumbled, hands moving from her shoulders to her upper arms. "Reg, I- hold on."
"What?" She kissed down your cheeks to your neck.
"Hold on, I-" Your breath hitched, the tickle of her lips in such a sensitive place hindering your ability to speak. "I don't wanna have sex."
As if shaken from a trance, Regina pulled away abruptly. Her hands slid out of your shirt and rested on either side of your torso, looming above you. The dim, warm tinted lamp light from the nightstand made her hair, hanging around you, seem like a halo. Or a canopy.
"You don't want to have sex." She said, voice a little hoarse and eyes betraying something until she pulled the shutters closed. "You're lucky I'm letting you get this far."
You stared up at her, stunned. "What? Letting me? You're on top of me."
"I know you want this. You've been wanting this for a long time. I've seen the way you look at me, the way you act around me." She spoke fast as if she was trying to convince both you and herself.
Panic was beginning to constrict around your throat. It took a while to find your voice.
"Reg, I'm sorry, but-"
"You should be sorry." She crawled away from on top of you and stood up. You leaned up on your elbows to keep looking at her. "You should be so sorry."
"I- I am," You tried to reassure her, tried to hold down your own hurt. "I just thought this was a little fast."
She rolled her eyes at you, though the action seemed jilted. "You've been pining the whole time we've been friends, I'd say it's been long enough. And now, when you have all you want offered to you, you reject it."
"Is this what this is about? Rejection? Regina, I just meant not yet."
"You're so fucking full of yourself." She accused, pointing a finger at you. The whole display was made weaker by the glistening in her eyes and the redness covering her from neck to ears.
"You think you can walk into my life, cause all sorts of chaos, take my family from me, and then reject me?" She hissed, gesturing with her arms all the while. You swallowed, unsure of what you should do.
She was firing insults at you and the only thing you could think to do was sit there and take it.
"Chaos? I'm not trying to take your family from you, Reggie, where's this coming from?" You stood up, feeling too awkward to be on the bed.
"You think I haven't seen the way you act around my mom or my sister? You want to be me so bad, you're acting like they're your family. They're mine and you're never gonna have them! You're never gonna have a family!"
You reeled back, offended by the uncalled-for insult.
"You have the gall to come to my home, my family's Thanksgiving dinner, acting all holier than thou meanwhile Kylie fawns over you and mom dotes on you."
"Are you jealous? They love you, Regina." Your ability to argue was getting flimsier by the minute, the stinging in your eyes inhibiting any power you could've drawn from.
"Jealous? You think I'm fucking jealous? I have everything and you have nothing!"
"I don't think that's true, Reg. I think that you're hurt and saying things you don't mean."
"You always put words in my mouth, try to manipulate me and change me into someone you think I should be. I'm good the way I am!"
"Change can be good, Reg, I just-"
"God, you're actually so insufferable. Genuinely, I cannot stand to be around you. I hate you." She turned away from you, hands going to her hair and tugging. "I don't need to change. I hate that you try to make me. I hate that you've already done it, with your fucked up mind games."
You blinked rapidly and breathed in deeply, trying to stay calm. She was just being destructive because she was hurt. She didn't mean any of it. She was just earlier kissing you. Didn't that count for something?
"I don't play mind games. I just wish you were kinder."
"You wish I was this and that, and what about me?" She whirled around and strode up to you. "I am this way. I am not kind, I'm not soft, and I thrive."
"Are you thriving, Reg?"
"Do not call me what stupid name!" She yelled, getting right in your face. You flinched back, startled and scared. "Oh, you're gonna cry now that your other tactics don't work anymore? I see right through you, you freak."
"Don't yell at me, Reggie." You said, biting your lip to keep it from trembling. You wiped at your eyes furiously. "I'm sorry, okay, for rejecting you, for trying to change you. I didn't mean to manipulate you."
"I'll do whatever the fuck I want to you." She hissed. "I'll fucking ruin your life. I'll tell people you're a lesbian and what you tried to do to me."
"What?" You breathed. "What do you mean? What I tried to do to you- do you hear yourself?"
"I hear myself, jorts, and so will everybody else when I tell them what a disgusting, perverse little dyke you are."
You wouldn't have described it as something snapping, but you'd had enough by then. It stung, hearing that from her, of all people. It stung more than you liked to admit because you knew her.
You knew she didn't mean it, she was lashing out, and desperately trying to cling to the power she'd lost the moment she'd been vulnerable with you- kissed you.
You didn't want to feel it, so you were mean instead.
"Just like you did to Janis then. Did you kiss her too and when you got scared you decided to ruin her life. Is that how it went?" You laughed bitterly and before she could interrupt, went on. "Is that how you're gonna live your life, Regina? Anytime you feel those dirty, lesbian urges you'll use some innocent bystander to sate your lust and then, because they know too much, you ruin them? Sounds very sustainable."
"How dare you accuse me of being that," Her face was scrunched in anger, red like the devil.
"Oh, I dare, I seem to recall you were just kissing me, on top of me, hands up my shirt. You're not fooling anybody, Reg, you're a filthy queer just like me." You were aiming to hurt now, wanting her to feel like you did. "The truth is, Regina, that you fucking hate yourself. You hate yourself and you just don't know what to do with yourself so you make everybody around you feel the exact same way."
"No, that's not true, I-" Seeing her face crumble, her posture turn defensive, stoked the fire of your anger. You wanted her to hurt, wanted to punish her for leaving you back then and insulting you now.
"You're like some shitty reincarnation of Heather Chandler, all high and mighty until you're inevitably toppled by some nobody you were so sure was so below you that they couldn't even pose a threat."
"Great film analysis there, loser." Regina quipped weakly, already backing down. You weren't done, though.
"It's only a matter of time before Cady Heron pours you a glass of drain cleaner too, and I'll be looking forward to the day." You sniped, watching as Regina's lip curled in an exaggerated show of being unaffected. You knew her. You knew she'd seen Heathers and you knew the parallels weren't pleasing to the eye. You knew you were going too far, but you couldn't stop.
"You think you're such a martyr, you think that-"
"I thought we were friends, Regina! All I wanted was to be your friend. Sure, I liked you, but that didn't have to mean anything until you kissed me."
"It meant something the whole time! You can't act like it was nothing, our whole friendship is tainted by it!"
"Get over yourself, Regina, you could've ignored it like you do every flaw you have!"
"I don't have flaws, I'm above that." She scoffed, but the tremor in her voice told you that even she didn't think that was true. "I'm doing everyone a favour by showing who's on top."
"Who are you? A fucking dictator? Is that how you truly see yourself? Because I see a scared little girl, confused and angry, taking it out on the easiest targets."
"Nobody gets to feel okay when I feel like this! It's not fair! It's not fair they get to be happy and I have to be like this all the time! I hate this and they deserve it!"
You fought to ignore your heart breaking for her, how her words and obvious cries for help made you want to bleed for her. You'd stood idly and let her hurt you for long enough, it was about time you stood up for yourself.
"Oh, well, I'm so sorry then. I'm starting to fucking get Janis. Maybe I could've come up with the Homecoming sprinkler prank myself. Maybe I should've let you use the lard for your face."
You regretted it the moment the words left your lips.
A beat, both of you staring at each other, faces slack and chests heaving from all the screaming, regret and betrayal swirling in the air like a toxic tornado, passed.
"You knew?" Regina whispered, suddenly so quiet the wind from your sails wooshed away. "You knew and you didn't tell me?"
"I... I did." You looked down. Fuck. You'd fucked up. You'd insinuated you wanted to see her die. You didn't want that at all. Tears sprung to your eyes again and you pressed the heels of your palms to them.
Could this even be fixed at this point? You should've just shut up and it wouldn't have escalated like this. You knew why she'd reacted the way she did, you knew, but you hadn't been able to stay level-headed when she'd started coming at you.
"Get out." She spoke normally, volume steady. She was shaking, you could see that even with your faltering vision.
"I'm sorry, Reg, I really am. I should've told you. I shouldn't have said those things to you. I'm sorry."
"I said get out."
Unable to hold it any longer, a sob burst out and you decided to leave before you humiliated yourself any further. You grabbed your overnight bag and practically ran out of the room.
You should've been quieter because Mrs George came to see who was stomping down the stairs so late. She had a wine glass in hand, a silken robe tied at her waist, and a worried look on her face.
"Oh, hi, I packed some leftovers for you to- oh, honey, what's wrong?"
"It's- it's nothing, Mrs George." You hiccuped and looked away, embarrassed by your crying. You couldn't look her in the eye. Did you want her to be your mom? Did it matter when Regina clearly saw it that way even if it wasn't true? Taking any comfort from her now felt like proving her right.
"It doesn't seem like nothing. Why don't we go sit and you can tell me what happened. Did Regina say something mean?"
"I don't wanna talk about it, please."
Mrs George sighed. "There's leftovers in the fridge for you." She lingered as you passed. "Honey?"
"What?" Usually, you didn't have the heart to be so rude to her.
"You're welcome here anytime." She smiled at you gently. Clearly, she was experienced in dealing with volatile teenagers. You turned and headed for the kitchen.
Walking home, bag on your shoulder and various containers of delicious food in your arms, you felt numb. You'd left through the garage door, grabbing your clothes from the mudroom as you went, but you still had on the sweatpants.
Tears dried on your cheeks, eyes swollen and nose stuffy, you didn't know what to do. Snow was falling and the streetlights made the scene look more beautiful than was warranted. You felt empty, hollowed out like you'd spilt your guts, heart, and most other internal organs on the floor of Regina's bedroom.
You got home, put the leftovers in the fridge, and stood in the kitchen. Swallowing on a dry mouth, throat scratchy, you figured there was little else you could do other than smoke a cigarette.
You stepped onto the porch and sank down onto the bench swing. Lighting up and inhaling, you closed your eyes as the smoke passed through you.
Regina by the poolside in her bikini, Regina eating pizza on your couch, Regina on the passenger seat of your car, Regina smoking a cigarette with you under the bleachers.
That was all gone, then.
Notes: I was a little wary of having the chapter be only the argument, but it got so long that I figured it'd be nice to have the next chapters work towards a resolution straight away. No need to stretch out the acute misery for any longer than necessary. I'll say, though, that just like IRL something like this isn't just fixed right away. So look forward to more chapters! This is getting so long. I started writing this like, hey, a cute oneshot with a butch OC! Here we fucking are.
Taglist: @autorasexy, @wedfan2, @unadulterated-moron, @modernsapphicism, @9unknown0, @sage-rose2000, @massive-honkas, @nattys-swiftie, @likefirenrain, @luz-enjoyer, @dandelions4us, @natashamaximoff-69, @alexkolax, @jareaul0ver, @here4theqts, @charleeeesworld, @natsbiggestfan1, @brocoliisscared, @yellowwallflowers, @scarlettbitchx, @ayoungexwife, @cyberbonesworld, @syddie-reads, @screechcat, @theenglishswiftie,@gabby-duhh, @sweetmissnothing, @masterofpuppets-10, @l1lass, @starved-mortal
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ladykailitha · 9 months
Text
Spooky season is here and I was just thinking about that tiktok (maybe) of the couple at the haunted house where the guy pushes the girl onto the feet of the ax wielding haunt and then the girl and haunt have a conversation that ends with the girl chasing the asshole with the ax and the haunt happily following her.
But make that Steddie. Steve as the girl. Set between seasons 3 and 4, but in a world where Steve going on a date with a man is surprise not a thing of revulsion (as in people would surprised that he was dating a guy having been a ladies man in high school, but no one would give him shit about it). Because it's my sand box, damn it. I make the rules here!
*
Steve wasn't sure what possessed him to go on this date with Jeremy. He didn't like haunted houses. He had seen too many real horrors in his life be frightened of fake ones. But Robin said he could pretend to be scared and cling to the guy's arm, maybe even get a kiss out of it.
What he wasn't expecting was for it to actually terrify him. He was clutching Jeremy's arm the whole way through, chanting in his head "don't hurt them, it's not real." Over and over again whenever the urge to push the actors away or in one extreme case when they were in the haunted hospital break the doctor's nose.
The actor looked too much like Dr Brennan, and while the patient on the gurney wasn't a girl or even had shaved hair, but Steve's protective instinct went into overdrive. It took every ounce of self-will Steve had to keep clutching Jeremy's arm.
They finally hit a room that didn't look so bad. It had a wood floor and four garish statues, one in each corner. Their fog machine was working in high gear but seemed to collect around one figure in particular.
It held an ax over its head, its mouth open in a silent scream. The robes that gathered around its sandled feet were perfectly rendered in stone. The sleeves of the robe revealed a couple of bat tattoos on the right forearm.
Steve was entranced, he let go of Jeremy's arm for the first time since they started and took a step toward it.
It was then the actor jumped off his pedestal and swung his ax down.
Jeremy did the inexplicable. Maybe even outright despicable thing. He pushed Steve forward into the waiting arms of ax murder. Steve stumbled landing on the actor's feet.
"Whoa!" the actor asked. "Are you okay?" He put the ax down and helped Steve get to his feet.
"Did he really just shove me at you to save his own ass?" Steve asked in shock.
The actor cocked his head to the side. "That's what it looked like to me. I hope that was a friend and not a date..."
Steve winced. "Sadly, the latter."
"Fuck, dude," the actor said. He spotted the ax. "You want to get revenge?" He picked up the ax and handed it to Steve.
Steve laughed. "Hell yeah!"
He ran after Jeremy, very plastic ax in hand, the actor cheering him on.
The next room was holding Jeremy so that he wouldn't be split from Steve and gotten lost. It was full of evil clowns. Something that apparently Jeremy was terrified of, judging by the screaming he had been doing.
The actors spotted Steve coming at their prey with an ax and Eddie cheering him from behind, they immediately clocked what had probably gone down. They let Jeremy pass them and two of the clowns broke off to chase him out of the haunted house, gaining cast members with each passing room (still enough remaining to scare other patrons but obviously gaining a crowd to hound this guy.)
He exited the haunted house screaming obscenities at Steve and the actors. The crowd laughing and pointing. He got into his car and drove off.
The smile slid off Steve's face. "Fuck. There goes my ride home."
The ax murder laughed as all the other actors went back inside. He pulled off his hood to reveal a mess of dark brown curls and grey face paint around his eyes on his lips. "I've gotcha, big boy."
"Eddie Munson, right?" Steve asked when he finally placed the face.
"Aww," Eddie cackled. "You do remember me."
Steve scoffed. "Kinda hard to forget."
Eddie's grin grew big. "Duly noted." He scratched the back of his head. "I am sorry about the shitty date though."
Steve shrugged. "It turned out more fun then I thought it would."
Eddie cocked his head again. "True. It's not every day you get chase away a bad date with plastic ax."
Steve handed it back to him. "Shouldn't you be getting back? Won't the other patrons find it odd when the room is empty of scares?"
Eddie smiled slyly. "Who says I left my post unattended?"
Steve's eyes went wide. "How many more of the statues are actors?"
Eddie leaned forward into his space. "I'll never tell," he said sing-song.
Steve laughed.
"Just let me inform my boss I'm taking you home and clean up this makeup, I'll get you home, Stevie," Eddie said.
"You don't have to do that," Steve mumbled. "I'm sure I could call someone."
Eddie shook his head. "Nah, I've got you."
"Thanks."
Ten minutes later Eddie was back on the pavement standing next to Steve. He was back in his usual shredded black jeans and leather jacket. But he wore a denim vest over top of it.
"I like the vest," Steve murmured. "I like pins and things."
"Patches," Eddie said.
Steve hummed his confusion.
"The other things are patches," Eddie explained.
Steve smiled. "That's cool."
Eddie pulled up to Steve's house without asking for directions.
"Should I ask how you knew that?" Steve asked as he got out of the van.
Eddie just waggled his eyebrows as he got out of the van too.
"You gonna walk me to the door, Eds?" Steve asked with a smirk.
"These woods behind your house are pretty fucking scary, dude," Eddie said with a huff of laughter.
Steve just shook his head and bit his tongue to avoid saying exactly how much.
They got to his door and Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve's lips.
It was sweet and warm. "What was that for?" Steve asked, breathlessly.
"Isn't that what you do at the end of a date?" Eddie asked with a teasing grin. "Walk them to door and give them a kiss good night?"
Steve laughed. "Yeah. Yeah it is. Good night, Eds."
"Good night, Stevie."
Eddie walked to his van. "If you want to go on a date that doesn't end you chasing your date with an ax, you know where to find me."
Steve grinned. "I might just take you up on that. Provided it's not another haunted house."
"Don't worry, baby," Eddie said with grin. "I'm loyal. Just a one haunted house kind of guy."
Steve shook his head and unlocked the door. Before he close it behind him he could hear Eddie celebrating, cheering and hollering.
Robin was never going to believe him when he told her how his date went.
But that's okay. She was right. It was fun.
*
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @itsall-taken @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @vecnuthy
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cupidddd-d · 8 months
Text
you waste your time on daft pretty boys
in which spencer reid is so smart, but he's so dumb!
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if you had a quarter for every time you tried flirting with spencer reid and he obliviously rebuffed your attempts, you'd have enough money to buy a yacht.
at first, it started with you innocently brushing his arm when you had to walk past him. you'd make eye contact with him across the room. he thought nothing of it.
and then you purposely wore a pair of shoes that were practically falling apart, all so you could fall into his arms and bat your eyelashes at him as he caught you. he caught you, but he immediately set you back on your feet, almost as if he was afraid to touch you for more than a second.
"you should be more careful," he laughed, somehow still completely clueless to the fact that you were putting the moves on him.
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"i mean, i don't get it! i've been flirting with him all week, and nothing! why isn't he just taking the hint?" you complained to morgan as you slumped down in your cubicle.
spencer being late only ever happened once in a blue moon, but he was late today. and you needed to take full advantage of his absence to pester morgan for advice.
"honestly, you're wasting your time here. if you're not going to be direct with him, he'll never get the hint. the kid's like a robot," morgan shrugged, twirling his pen in the air.
"it's true," prentiss agreed as she walked by, overhearing your conversation. "his iq gets slashed to nothing when it comes to romance. you need to be upfront with him."
"but it's so embarrassing!" you whined, dropping your head on your desk with defeat. "what if he rejects me?"
"the answer's always gonna be no if you never ask," prentiss raised her eyebrows at you knowingly.
you groaned dramatically at her words, weakly slapping your desk a few times to further express your point. "fine, but if he rejects me, i'm changing my name and moving to costa rica. i'll start a new life, and you'll never see me again!" you threaten them both, pointing your index finger at them.
"yeah, yeah," morgan smirked smugly, interlacing his hands behind his head as he leaned back.
"shut up, baldie!" you retorted, just because you had to get the last word in.
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"so...spencer," you say awkwardly, standing over his cubicle. everyone except hotch had gone home, and you two were the only ones still working in the bullpen.
"yeah?" his smile was so sweet and so welcoming, but it had never intimidated you before the way it does now.
"um, okay. so basically morgan and prentiss were telling me to be upfront with you because i've been flirting with you like, this whole week, and you haven't gotten the hint yet. spencer, i think you're a great guy, and i really like being around you. do you maybe...want to go out sometime? as a date?" you rambled nervously, feeling a hot blush creep up your cheeks.
you watched spencer fumble for words for what seemed like hours. his mouth parted, then it closed again. he just blinked at you, a little squeaking noise coming out of his mouth as he blushed red, from his neck to the tips of his ears.
"y-yeah, i'd like that! l-like, a lot!" he squeaked, turning a lovely shade of fire engine red. "w-we could w-watch um, a movie! does f-friday work? c-cool, okay!"
he dashed off before you could say anything, but friday did work for you, so you just stood there in disbelief.
"yeah, cool, okay..." you echoed, a giddy smile on your face.
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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months
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Can you do something with Vox and the reader and the reader listens to like sus or like nsfw songs (Think like Wheeler Walker Jr. (he’s a country music artist if you didn’t know, be warned)) and/or like morally questionable songs? Idk I’d think it’d just be funny with like the reader listening to a song and it’s just like really explicit😭🙏
Once Bitten, Twice Shy
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: I'm making a drabble out of this cuz I don't wanna go through the whole song for now- but this is way too funny of an idea to pass up. PLUS, I've got like the perfect song after the audio just popped up on my YouTube feed yesterday. Like, the song has two versions too- one explicit and one clean. Also, I am aware that the idiom in the title means being more cautious- but it kind of applies to Vox when he actually has to make a valiant effort to stop falling in love with you. He absolutely sucks at it but we're not gonna stop him LMAO.
youtube
Despite having prior knowledge to the songs you liked and listened to, Vox was still a bemused mess when guessing your music preferences. Sometimes he couldn't understand why you'd have a certain song in your playlist that just... didn't really fit. He'd even worry that something happened when a depressive song was randomly at the top of your 'most played' tunes for the day. Yet you were completely fine, actually just peachy- which confused him beyond belief.
All the more when he found you at the hotel teaching Angel some popular dance routines from when you were alive. The overlord didn't seem to mind what you were doing, hell- it was a little cute to watch. Even if he had a few qualms about your song choices, a lot of them bordering suggestive, it wasn't anything he hadn't heard before.
That was until the chorus of this specific tune started playing.
You wrap around me and you give me life~ And that's why night after night- I'll be fuckin' you right!
WHAT. THE. FUCK.
WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS?!
It didn't help that you seemed completely unbothered by it?! Huh?!
Vox hadn't ever heard that song in your playlist before, if he had the lyrics and melody would be familiar- but no! So you had just decided to add this all of a sudden?! WHY??
He didn't realize his claws were digging into the bar top where he was leaning against until Lucifer pointed it out. Even then, he didn't react to the king of hell's teasing or jabs- merely crossing his arms as his brain tried to catch up with what was happening.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday- a week! Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday- Seven days a week!
Were you trying to tell him something?? Wha- how did you even find a song like this?! Much less know enough about the dance of it to teach! He was starting to overheat as his fans whirred loudly. Though at this point, it was mostly embarrassed confusion with a dash of lust.
Husker and Lucifer were sort of having a laugh at Vox's expense where they were standing near him. It had been clear as day ever since that the technology overlord had a thing for you-
This just pretty much confirmed it.
Maybe he totally wished to direct the song at you, if his pink screen was any indication. The guy even had small bolts of blue electricity just running across him, you were seriously sending Vox into overdrive and you had no idea!
Every hour, every minute, every second, you know night after night~ I'll be fuckin' you right, seven days a week!
By the time you had finished dancing with Angel, you picked up on some boisterous laughter by the hotel's bar. Only to see Lucifer and Husker actually losing it because a certain flatscreen companion of yours was bluescreened and sparking where he stood.
What the hell?
You were so confused.
But that just seemed to make a certain king and bartender laugh all the more.
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cherryxblossxms · 2 months
Text
🔞 i guess it's because there's an event happening and that's why he's on my mind, but i've been thinking about sexual tension and some angst with Lucifer
[NSFW, minors DNI. GN reader, unrequited feelings(?), casual sex, getting caught. Maybe alluding to some angry/jealous sex, possible dubcon at the end?? This is....wayyyy longer than intended/accidental ficlet]
Like just imagining really coming to be attracted to him. Emotionally attracted because he's responsible and serious and intelligent, and then has his sweet and romantic moments that seem like they're only for you. And physically, he has every reason to be the Avatar of Pride. He's probably one of, if not the most, gorgeous men you've ever laid eyes on. Those intense ruby red eyes, broad shoulders, skilled hands that produced both gorgeous handwriting as well as wonderful piano music.
It comes to the point that you can't make eye contact with him or you know you'll get flustered. Starting to get distracted by thinking about what he'd be like as a lover, as a boyfriend. Slight touches are enough to send your daydreams on a journey. But knowing he likely doesn't like you that way, that the feelings aren't returned. And anyway, the plan is to eventually return to the human world, right? Is it worth getting into a relationship now, just to separate so soon down the road? But rather than deal with the rejection and heartache, just swallowing those feelings down and trying to move on with your life.
Of course, amidst the inner turmoil going on in your heart, you didn't expect to get involved with Lord Diavolo instead, the prince approaching you with the most unexpected offer that you decided to accept, perhaps against your better judgment.
It wasn't anything serious, definitely just a fling, simply responding to mutual attraction and a mutual desire for some stress relief. Honestly, it happened rather suddenly, a curious kiss after a meeting quickly evolving into more, but once it started, it was easy to just go with the flow, taking your moments alone to indulge and just release that tension. You reasoned it was both a good way to forget your feelings and still enjoy some kind of attention, and thankfully he was an excellent lover.
However, you had to admit to yourself that, as gorgeous and skilled as the devil prince was, you'd be lying if your mind didn't seem to wander off more often than not to a certain red-eyed devil. Even as Diavolo worked to rearrange your guts over his office desk, risking any documents he decidedly abandoned in pursuit of... greater pleasures, even as his golden eyes burned into you and he devoted himself to learning your favorite spots, your mind still went back to Lucifer.
If Diavolo knew that your heart was elsewhere, he didn't mention it. You were an adult and you weren't dating each other, he had no right to question it regardless. And as the heir to the throne, he had other things to focus on anyway. The whole point of the fling was something simple, pleasurable, and the less you two thought about feelings and regrets, the better.
Of course, assumptions can often be your undoing.
During one such beneficial "meeting" between you and the prince, your hands were grasping— broad shoulders, the desk, his hair, whatever was closest— as you tried to hold on for dear life. Something had seemed to really get under his skin lately, so he was working on releasing all his stress into you instead, his desk at risk of breaking, based on the amount of creaking that could be heard. His large cock bullying its way into your body repeatedly and pressing up against a particularly sensitive spot inside was driving you close to climax, and the overwhelming pleasure was driving any coherent thoughts from your mind.
The volume of the room was loud and only getting louder by the second, a sinful symphony of pants and grunts, rhythmic wood creaking, and the wet slap of Diavolo's balls against your ass. Thus, it was no wonder neither of you heard the approaching footsteps, or at least, couldn't be bothered to pay it any mind. Diavolo adjusted his grip on your hips at the last second, really driving his cock home inside you, and you could feel the band about to snap.
Just before you could go over that delicious precipice, the door to Diavolo's office opened, and your head whipped around to see the intruder. Of all the people it could have been, you should have known there was equal chances of being walked in by Lucifer as there was Barbatos. And yet, seeing him there still froze you to the spot as his eyes met yours.
Or rather, it would have. But Diavolo made one more thrust, the thick head of his dick pressing the sweetest little spot inside, and it was enough for the band to finally snap. In what felt like ages but was all within the span of a second, everything came crashing down. Your body tightened before releasing all at once, spasming in Diavolo's hold as you couldn't help but release a cry. The feel of your hole tightening around him dragged him into climax with you, and he seated himself deep inside before filling you with his cum.
What would have been an otherwise heavenly, earth-shattering orgasm was short-lived, as the horror of what happened quickly dissolved any remaining pleasure. You pushed against Diavolo's chest, trying to get him to move, to at least pull out of you, so you could pull yourself together and try to explain-- explain what, exactly? You weren't even sure, and it wasn't like Lucifer didn't just see you cum on his boss' dick just a minute ago, and in fact were still stuffed with it atop his desk.
You couldn't read the expression on his face, and didn't get much chance to explain anything before Lucifer apologized for interrupting and left.
It's days before you can speak to Lucifer again, practically cornering him in his office despite how hard your heart is pounding and how much you want to run away. You're expecting many different reactions: disappointment, shaming, anger, perhaps even indifference. But when Lucifer finally snaps, what initially seems like anger seems to morph into what is instead... jealousy? Questioning you on when your relationship with Diavolo started, how long you two have been fucking, if there's anyone else you're riding like a whore besides the prince.
You can't help the way your face burns when he spits out that word, "whore", but there's no time to attempt a defense before Lucifer is pushing you over his desk, a hand grasping your hip so hard you might bruise, the other yanking your hair to look back at him. The look in his eyes then blows you away, equal parts desire and anger swirling in those bloody depths. You'd ask him what he's going to do, but the solid length pressing against your backside is answer enough. Despite the shame hanging over you, you can't help the part of you that's thrilled that he wants you like that, even if it was happening for all the wrong reasons. But as the sound of a belt unbuckling caught your ears, you accepted your punishment and just hoped there'd be time later to truly confront each other.
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queenquinzel715 · 8 months
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3.1 Halforc Rothwell
Wrd count 2,469
Princess (Y/n) P.O.V.
When I turned fourteen I knew things were going to change in the worst possible way. I saw the royal doctors leaving my mother's chambers, and her ladies in waiting looking down so upset. I had just turned sixteen when I got woken by my mother's closest lady in waiting telling me to come quickly. I sat with my mother for an hour when she finally let go. My father stood by the door silently crying to himself. They did actually love each other.
That night my life became hectic. I took over Queen duties for the kingdom. Which is no problem, however my father's advisors are like the devil in his ear. My father is so poor minded that the lies they tell him he believes them. I do feel bad for my father. He was just a guard when he and my mother, the princess, fell for each other. He does care for our people, he just doesn't understand how to communicate with them, so he leaves it to William. William is the head guard that is supposed to help my people when they need it, but he's just a tyrant.
Like today, William and Henry, the main advisor, are telling my father that the creatures that are coming to do trade are tricking my father. They are telling him that these creatures are raiding savages. I've heard enough from these two.
"Alright that's enough. What are your sources for all this?" I stop them just as they walk to the maps to map out an attack on the incoming ships. "My sources tell me the reason for any attacks was that the Tearings Kingdom enslaved them." I look at my father's indecisive face.
"I have insiders in the Silentdew Kingdom, Sire." Henry boosts with a mocking smile.
"I don't remember a ship leaving for that long of a voyage, so when was this?"
I'm completely ignored.
"These creatures are here simply for land. I myself have sent letters with their King, so I will not have these stories to be spread. If no problems are caused then no problems will occur. They should be docking in just three days, and we must greet them accordingly." My father takes over. He turns to me. "(Y/n) I need you to be there for their reassurance that we give faith into our new arrangements." I give my father a reassuring smile.
"I was hoping to meet them at dinner." I try to sound proper, not too obvious.
"I know, I know. I just need them to know even with your own… legacy, we are here united for good reasons." I laugh at his pausing for the right words.
What he had difficulty with is my true title. Queen General (full name). At fourteen my mother insisted my father train me in some sort of defense. What she didn't expect was for me to get completely infatuated with fighting, and well I became General after my eighteenth birthday. No one argued the title placement, because they knew I actually worked for it. Sadly I had to give that title to William last year when I turned twenty. My father told me it was time for me to settle down, so he's been finding suitors for me. Most of them did seem good on paper, so I don't fault my father on that point. It's just when they open their mouths nothing intelligent comes out just pompous showboating, or their egos get destroyed from my legacy. At least my father doesn't fight me when I tell him I won't marry them.
Besides, my biggest problem is dealing with an overly cocky William. He's been following me around assuming I'm turning the suitors away for him, because we've known each other since childhood. Granted as a child he was better to tolerate. Over the years I've learned just the type of man he's become, and the amount of female servants I've helped from his whole group. My mother taught me very early that I can't stop men like that, so that's why the only females that work in my castle are my own close ladies. I have made an example of what happens when I catch you in certain acts which helped the women in the town as well. Sadly mother was right. That's why I pray to her that I'm right with these creatures that come here, they docked yesterday. Tomorrow I will actually meet their leader, and have dinner.
This morning I'm woken up by my ladies to get ready for the creature's arrival. They should be here by midday, and by then I should have my nerves somewhat controlled. Which doesn't seem fruitful when the laces of my dress are being pulled back to cut my breathing off. I wasn't used to these formal dresses, and hair styling anymore. I mostly stayed in work dresses, and kept my hair braided to the side. I look like my mother with my hair like this, and she'd love this.
I walked down the main steps as the gates opened for three mountainous horses carrying orcs. I come to a stop in the only open place next to my father. Of course it's next to William. I keep myself looking at the gorgeous horses, but I'm stuck on the short haired one with a scruff-like beard. His yellow eyes scan the crowd, they seem to shine with curiosity as he sees something new.
"I like your hair this way, Princess." William takes me away from the orc. "I wanted to surprise you, but Friday I'm telling your father about us." I feel his hand move along my arm. "I can't let you keep this charade of the suitors." The entire feeling from him makes me nervous, causing me to move away immediately.
I hear him chuckling as I step to my father as he steps closer with the orcs following. Once I take a deep breath I realize I didn't hold my composure when my face relaxes. My father introduces me to Lord Rothwell and his guards. I look up at him in amazement as I outstretch my hand.
"Welcome Sir Rothwell." I offer him my hand.
"I'm very happy to be here, My Lady." His smile brings his tusk to a better view as he brings my hand to meet his lips, letting me feel just how smooth his tusks are.
Throughout the day, we are in the meeting hall going over the maps showing them their lands, and discussing laws. I was surprised when we have similar laws, granted they had more for the different creatures, which they gave us their law books.
Once dinner is served, it's like we have all known each other for years with the laughter coming from the dining hall. I sit left of my father as Rothwell sits across from me. I could listen to him talk about his people all night. He talks with such passion, the way his eyes light up when he speaks of certain people, well creatures.
"I'm glad we are on the same page about this settlement." I'm father raises his cup to cheer.
"Yes, I like how we are using the river as a boundary. It is very clever. That way no one can say they don't know where they are going." He cheers with my father.
"That was (y/n)'s idea. I swear if you spend a day with her you'd be amazed with what she comes up with." Father laughs as he shakes my shoulder making my food fall off my spoon.
"I'd love to spend a day with you." Rothwell looks me in the eyes as he says this, his voice makes my ankles lock together on their own.
"Sir Rothwell, do you hope this is a permanent settlement or just for the resources?" I generally want to know for my own knowledge and my kingdom's.
"Completely permanent, Princess." He smirks once responded.
My father grabs Rothwell's attention for some battle stories, but William decides now will be best to slide into the seat next to mine. I roll my eyes at his drunken smile.
"Father?" I try to properly get his attention.
"I was thinking about sunset for our ceremony." William begins. "The windows in the church shine perfectly at that time." He reaches for my piece of hair, but I move back.
I look back to my father to see him still talking, but Rothwell is eyeing William with hard eyes. William leans closer to continue his wedding talk, trying to touch me, making me grip my eating knife. He goes to reach for me again, and I snap. I push him back with my knife pointed at his lower rib. He drops his cup, leaving the wine to puddle the floor, and raises his hands. I slightly lean forward with my eyes locked on his terror filled ones.
"I've tolerated you all day, with your wedding bullshit talk, and you trying to touch me." He goes to speak, but me pushing the knife slightly further makes him stop. "If you so much as think of coming near me in the next couple of days. I swear the moment my eyes land on you I will cut your ribs out right there. Am I understood?" I sternly finish with a last push of the knife.
"Yes, Princess. I'm terribly sorry I won't bother you again." He rushes out his apologies as he nods quickly.
I raise my knife to the side for him to shakily run to the doors of the dining hall. Everyone is still silent as I turn back to my food. As I bite into my food I look up to Rothwell slightly biting his lower lip. I can feel my neck up to my face get hot as I look back down to my plate. Everyone starts to mumble about me as they get back to dinner.
"Daughter, must you embarrass the poor boy." Father laughs as he fills my cup with wine.
"Yes I must. Animals like him don't listen to normal talk, so I must get straight to the point." I take a big gulp of my wine as I stand. "Well goodnight father, enjoy your night." I kiss my father on the forehead. "Please don't get him completely gone. I'd like him to be somewhat functional." I laugh with Rothwell as the others raise their cups to me.
I walk to my chambers with an orc on my mind, and how my mother would be shocked that this is who I'm thinking about. Once in my chambers I change into my night dress getting comfortable as the night bonfire is lit in town Square. I lean against the balcony door crossing my arms at William's nonsense. I'm brought out of my thoughts as a crowd forms, and William steps through along with Rothwell. I could finally see that Rothwell is three feet taller than William, and is much bigger as well. The small group that came with Rothwell cheers for Rothwell as the fight starts. I watch as Rothwell practically throws William like a child around the circle. William slides along the ground making me laugh, and Rothwell raises his arms as he roars in celebration with his men. One of the creature men point up toward me, making him look up at me. I give him a sarcastic clap, but inside I want to scream for him. His roar was much louder as his men crowd him like he won something. William steps back to him in a drunken like sway, maybe it's a painful sway. Rothwell swats the air telling him he's done, but William says something that's obviously antagonizing. Rothwell actually throws him this time, but I feel that still wasn't his full strength. I watch William use his horse to stand. Rothwell walks away with his group of men as my men get back to work on the weapons. William however takes his sword from the sheath he keeps on his horse, and runs toward Rothwell with the sword high in the air. I grab a book that I left on the balcony, and throw it at Rothwell. It hits one of his men, making him turn to me. I just point at William. I quickly run down the stairs as the yelling echoes off the walls. They grow louder as I get to the Town Square. I signal to the cannon gunners to shoot a cannon. My men stop, and stand to attention. The creatures slowly stand to their feet. I step calmly through the sea of men to the ones that are still gripping onto each other. I take the sword of one of the closest men.
"Enough!" I use the sword to push William back.
Once he sees it's me he falls to his knees.
"Meeting hall, NOW!" My voice booms off the walls.
As I follow the two men into the hall my father is standing there with an angry expression. As I walk around them I throw the sword into a table. I look at the marks William somehow got on Rothwell with worry, but when I look at how William looks I couldn't hold my smirk.
"I don't mind when you men fight for show or for your own amusement. However I will not tolerate you having war IN THE MIDDLE OF MY KINGDOM!" My father yells out like he never has before. "Not only did you want to spar with an orc, you tried to strike an unarmed man in the back." My father speaks in shame at William. "Lets not begin to discuss what happened at dinner with my daughter." He turns to me. "Why was he threatened anyway?"
"Well throughout the day he has tried grabbing me, telling me that I am to marry him, and how the suitors I've declined were for his benefit." I tell my father honestly.
While I explain to my father Rothwell snaps his head to William like he actually wants to kill him.
"Guards!" Father suddenly yells, making me jump in surprise. "Lock William in the tunnels until I can deal with him in the morning." William is pleading as he is being pulled out once he's gone father sits with a deep sigh. "I should've done that years ago." He looks up at me as he rests his head on his fingertips looking between me and Rothwell. "Hmm well. Should we start the courting process?" He asks Rothwell with a no tolerance voice.
"Yes." Is all Rothwell says with a last look at me before storming out.
"Courting process?" I question my father.
He just dismisses me to bed, and tells me to enjoy the gifts.
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darnell-la · 1 year
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Hiii there! may I please request a Bellamy Blake mean and dark dom smut with !female grounder reader? An enemies to lovers thing with a lot of tension or anger and fighting m so they just give in and have hot steamy smut?💖 ty!
world count: 5,9K
pairing: Dom!Bellamy Blake x Grounder!Reader
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Hatred to love
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Bellamy Blake’s pov
"This place is so shitty," I said as Murphy and I stepped through the overgrown woods. We've been here for let's say, 6 months, and I've never felt more used in my life. Now that the 100 of us helped the rest of the people on the ark, we can work to reduce our time away. 
To top off us being enslaved, we must deal with these people we call grounders. They’re violent and dirty, and think they own the place. 
“Better watch what you say before y/n hears you,” Murphy joked, making me scoff. Y/n’s the leader of these grounders and she’s a real pain in the ass. She’s always arguing and demanding things. They also protect her and do whatever she tells them to do. 
“Or what? Is she gonna stab me? We have guns and I don’t think they have treatment for that,” I said as Murphy shook his head. “I don’t understand why you don’t like her. She’s cool,” Murphy said. 
I rolled my eyes and stopped, annoyed that people kept saying the same thing to me. I don’t get what they see in her. She’s violent, dirty, and has the worst attitude you could possibly think of. 
“She’s not cool, she’s just some girl that thinks she has a say in everything,” I said. “First of all, that girl is 20, and second, she does have the day of everything. At least around here she does, and we choose to follow them since we landed in their territory,” Murphy said. 
“And if you have a problem with that, you can barge into wherever she lives, and argue with her. Hell, fight if you need. Anything to shut you up about her at this point,” he said. 
“Whatever man,” I said then kept walking, trying not to stay here all day and argue about how much I despise y/n. It just pisses me off how many people tolerate her. 
“You’re not gonna stop me, so save your talking,” I said to Murphy before pushing past him and a few other friends. I’ve had enough of y/n and her demands. 
I walked through the overgrown forest, stumbling over sticks and rocks, thinking about if fighting y/n is the best idea. 
She’s the best warrior they say and she shows absolutely no mercy. Even if I were to beat her, her people would kill me for making her surrender. I’ll have to get her alone. 
As I thought of things to do, I made my way through the forest until I was finally at the grounds of the grounders. They know me, so they let me in easily which was a big mistake. 
“Y/n?” I asked the guards of this small village y/n’s always at. They nodded their heads then turned around to walk towards, where I guess, y/n is. 
“Y/n!” One said as we walked upon y/n reading a book that my people gave to her, to little kids. They seemed happy and like they were having fun. I think this is my first time ever seeing her smile. 
“What did you come here for?” She asked. She always seems like she has a tone with me. Only me. “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to walk and talk. Only for 10 minutes or so,” I lied. I have to get her away from the guards. 
“Now you know I can’t do that. They always follow me. Where ever I go,” y/n said as I sighed. “I know, but, maybe they’ll make an acceptance this one time. Please,” I begged as she tilted her head. 
Y/n got up and walked toward me and the guards. She said something in her language that I still haven’t learned yet, then walked passed me. “10 minutes,” she said. 
“So what did you actually bring me out here for?” Y/n asked as she finally stopped somewhere a bit far from the village. “I was thinking we could fight,” I said. 
“Fight?” She chuckled. “Pathetic,” she added. “What’s pathetic is that you need a whole army to fight for you,” I argued. “That’s just how we work,” she replied. 
“What do you wish to fight for?” She asked, making me smirk. “If I win, you stop this boss act and I get to show people that you’re not as strong as you make yourself to me,” I said. 
“And if I lose, you can keep your little act going and I’ll be very, very embarrassing,” I said as she rolled her eyes, holding back a laugh I wanted to slap away from her. 
“Bet,” she said, a new word that she got from our kind as she jumped off of the log she was standing on and attacked me. I was almost unprepared but moved out of the way fast enough and kicked her back. 
“Good reflexes. But not good enough,” she said as she turned and kicked my legs, causing me to fall to the ground. “Fuck,” I groaned then quickly rolled over as she was about to kick my face. 
“Fighting dirty, huh?” I asked as I got up. “Nah, just want to get this over with,” she said before running towards me. She’s always been an attacker which is hard to fight against since she always makes the first move. 
“Already tried?” She asked, looking down at me after giving me the worst blow to my stomach. I hate her but I won’t ever doubt again that she’s a good-ass fighter. “Nah,” I said, about to kick her legs to make her collapse but I heard a gunshot. 
I quickly looked around as I stayed on the floor, hoping to see anyone but I can’t. “Y/n, get down!” I yelled-whispered because she still standing like she was in shock. She can’t be in shock right now. 
“Y/n!” I yelled. She slowly looked down as her hands lifted up towards her stomach. “Did your people use their weapon on me?” She asked slowly as she pulled her hand away from her stomach showing blood. 
“Ah, shit!” I said as she dropped to the floor. “No, no, y/n, you have to get up! Y-You can’t be out here. Shit! Fuck, uh, fuck. Y/n, get up!” I said as I tried picking her up, but another shot was fired but don’t hit us thankfully. 
“Hood your fire dumb fucks! I made her fight me!” I yelled out so my people can stop this madness. They just fucked up our stay here. Her people will never forgive us for this. 
“Bellamy, am I dying?” She asked, sounding like she was about to pass out. “Shit! No, no, you’re not dying. Just- Just stay still and hold this down,” I said as I took my shirt off, and lifted her ripped-up shirt to press down on her wound so she won’t bleed out. 
“Guys, stop it! She needs medical assistance!” I yelled back as I saw her trying to break correctly and keep eye contact with me. She still seems fearless. How could I do this to her? What did I do?
“Don’t worry, she’ll get it,” an unfamiliar voice said. “But that won’t be needed for long,” they added. I looked around until my eyes landed on people in a has max suits and a dude without one. Everyone had a gun. 
“W-Who are you?” I asked as I kept trying to push down on her wound. “We’ll get to talking once we get what I need,” he said then snapped his fingers. That’s when the people started making their way towards us. Towards her. 
“What? No. No, back away! Back up!” I yelled but they didn’t listen. “No! No!” I yelled as two people pulled me away. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” I yelled, making the dude without a suit on, chuckling to himself. 
As one guy went to pick y/n up, she lifted her arm and stabbed the dude in his neck causing him to fall back and bleed out. 
“Get her now! We don’t have time for this!” The man said. That’s when a few people attacked her, taking her weapons and then dragging her away. They’re manhandling her while she’s screaming in pain. 
“No, no! Help! Help us!” I yelled, hoping one of her people followed us so they wouldn’t completely have no eyes on her but they actually trusted me. Fuck. I kept repeating my yells until something knocked me on the side of my head. 
“What is this shit!?” I yelled at the man as he threw y/n on her stomach, onto this medical chair and then strapped her down. They didn’t even patch up her wounds. She’s bleeding out and groaning in pain. 
“I can see you’re not too happy. I assumed because of how you guys fought, you didn’t like each other but I see otherwise now,” he said as one sergeant pulled out some big needle that I’ve never seen in my life. 
“What the- Hey! Hey, get away from her! What is that!?” I asked the man as he took a deep breath, about to tell me the most inhumane thing I’ve ever heard of. 
“That needle you see is what we use to subtract bone marrow from the grounders who’ve been able to breathe on earth for hundreds of years,” he said as he sat in front of me after a guard placed a chair down. 
“You see, my people can’t survive the outside but they can. People like you can too which is surprising,” he said. “We’ve been studying you guys and we finally got one of you which will help another few of my people,” he added. 
“What? You’re gonna- You’re gonna fucking- No, let me go! L-Let her go! I swear to god-“ I went to say but he cut me off. “What will you possibly do?” He asked then snapped his fingers. Seconds later, his guards took me away as I yelled and demanded them to let me go but they wouldn’t listen.
Maybe an hour went by since the guards threw me into this clean and well-kept-up room. I’ve been thinking of ways to kill this man and escape. We can’t stay here. 
As I was about to start my banging on the door that I’ve been doing every 10 minutes, the door swung open to two guards dragging y/n into the room by her arms. 
She looked dead. My heart skipped a beat until I noticed she was alive by her whimpers. They patched her up but her blood is still leaking through her bandage. 
“Here,” a third guest said as he walked through the doors and threw a medical bag at me. “Fix her up, would ya?” He said then walked out with the other two after they dropped y/n on the floor. 
“Shit, y/n?” I said as I grabbed the medical bag and sped over to her. “Mhm?” She asked as I began to work on her. First I cleaned her up while keeping a conversation with her so she won’t fall asleep. 
“I need you to keep talking to me, okay baby? Keep talking,” I said after watching her eyes get heavy. “Hurts,” she said right before slipping away and passing out. 
“Y/n? No, y/n, stay up!” I said as I fastened my process before she looses too much blood. I’d she dies, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I made her go out, far from her guards to fight her. 
I’ve always said that if I had the chance to kill her, I would but that’s a lie. Just a big fucking lie. I can’t do that to her. She’s one of the kindest, most responsible, and most thoughtful people I’ve met. I really fucked up…
“Guess I didn’t die,” I heard y/n say as she leaned up on the bed I laid her on. “Yeah, I guess,” I said as I quickly got up and walked to the side of the bed. “Hey, hey, chill out,” I said as I leaned her back to check her wound. 
“Why are you carrying for me? Didn’t you want to fight me? Maybe even kill me?” She asked after slapping my hand away from her. “Hey!” I slightly shouted as I grabbed her wrist. She tried tugging away but I tugged back to get her to stop. 
“Listen! You’re hurt and your people would probably kill me and think I shot you if they find your lifeless body bled out,” I said then pushed her wrist away and went back to slowly pull the big patch I placed on her. 
“It sent Straight through so that’s good. I didn’t know until I started patching you up. You’ll heal within a few months but it takes a good year to get back to your normal self,” I said. “A year!?” She yelled. 
“Chill, okay? I’ll take care of you and shit,” I said, making her laugh. “You? Take care of me? Yeah, it’s hard to feel comfortable around someone who got me in this situation!” She yelled at me. 
“I didn’t mean to get you shot! I just want to put you in your place and-“ I tried finishing. “Put me in my place? And what is that? Ruin what I and my people had going on for hundreds of years. We were doing good with and without you,” she said. 
“You need us,” I said as I leaned over her to intimidate her but she leaned up. I can tell that she was in pain but she kept a straight face because that’s who she is. She’s strong. That’s what I like about her…
“You don’t scare me, Mr. Blake, so don’t lean into my face and not do anything about-“She went to get aggressive but I cut her off by smashing my lips onto hers. She instantly stops talking. My eyes are shut but I can tell she’s looking at me with wide shocked eyes. 
I slowly lifted my hand up to place my hand on her cheek but she quickly gripped my wrist, stopping me. I kept my hand up, not giving up until she slowly let my wrist go, allowing me to place my hand on her face. 
Now she’s kissing me back and I can’t tell she’s probably never kissed anyone. She’s not bad or anything, but she’s flinching at new things I do like moving my tongue, she’s breathing heavily, and seems very needy. 
“You done being mad at me now?” I asked as she kept her lips on mine, kissing me in want. “Shut up and kiss me,” she said as she pulled my face into hers. I did. as told and pushed her down on the bed and hovered over her. 
Her small whines are the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. I love how needy, whiny, and sloppy she kisses me. How could I be so mean to someone like her? She’s perfect. 
Minutes into making out with her, I went to trace my hand down to her lower body but someone started punching in codes. I quickly got off of her as she quickly leaned up, snapping out of what we were doing. 
“Stay back,” I said as I got in front of the bed to cover her and defend her if they try grabbing and experimenting on her again until the door opened to Clarke. “Bell,” she said under her breath as she sped over to me and jumped into my arms. 
“I thought I lost you. We thought you ran away,” she said as I placed her down, not really comfortable with her wrapping her legs around me, right after I just got through making out with y/n.
“No, no, I was just out with y/n and then these people fucking-“ I went to say but she cut me off. “What were you doing with y/n alone? How did you even get her alone without her guards?” Clarke asked like she was upset. 
“That’s not the issue right now. The issue is, is that she got shot and they didn’t give her proper treatment,” I said as I walked over to y/n to show Clarke what I’m talking about. 
She walked over, seeming like she didn’t really care. “I tried my best but it’s not enough,” I said. “You touch her? Aren’t you like not allowed to? She barely had a shirt on,” Clarke said, focusing on the wrong things. 
“Well if I didn’t, she would have bled out, Clarke,” I said with a tone, pissed off that she’s so worried about how I’m taking care of y/n like me and her are dating. Clarke is just another girl to me. Nothing else. 
“Where’s the rest?” I asked Clarke so we could end this conversation that was going absolutely nowhere. “Making sure the guards don’t try attacking the people helping the people that are caged up,” she said. They caged people here? 
“They’ll explain to you. Let’s go,” she said, trying to pull me with her but I yanked my hand away. “We have to take y/n,” I said as I looked at her with a disappointed look. 
“She says she’s strong right? She can get up and get home herself,” Clarke said. “Nah, I think you can,” I said, causing Clarke’s eyes to widen. “You should go,” I said then began to help y/n get up. 
Clarke stormed out as I paid no mind to whatever she was fussing about. “You should have told me you had a partner,” y/n said. “She’s not,” I replied. “Doesn’t seem like it,” she said as she backed up from me. 
“I can walk myself,” she said then began walking. “Wait, y/n, it’s not what you think, okay? She’s into me. I’m not into her,” I explained. “But she still felt comfortable saying those things about me. You’re clearly showing her something,” she said as she limped out of the room. 
I stayed silent and still in the room, cussing myself out that I had something with Clarke. She just fucked up what I and y/n could have probably had. I should have known she’d be like this. 
Before I even pressed my lips onto hers, I thought about how all the women would feel about me and y/n being a thing. Clarke was the first to come to mind since she’s the more jealous type. The others have other people so they don’t need me.
SKIP SEVERAL MONTHS
3rd persons pov
It’s been months since y/n’s been shot and she’s doing pretty well. She still works out, trains, and talks to Bellamy but she never dares to speak about what happened between them in that room. 
She respected Clarke and Bellamy’s non-realistic relationship and Bellamy respect how angry she was at him. He understood how uncomfortable she could have felt in that situation once Clarke started acting a certain way toward her for no reason. 
Bellamy still tried to make small moves but it never really goes anywhere. They haven’t kissed each other since that day. The furthest it’s gone is touched around her clothing to ease her into him but she can’t forget how he made out with her and seconds later, Clarke came in like they’ve been dating for years. 
Today’s y/n’s birthday and Bellamy just found out that the grounders don’t celebrate birthdays since they use to lose track of times before the sky people came down. 
Bellamy is currently in y/n's room, decorating the place with old birthday decorations he found around the place. They had moved into the mountain men’s home after every one of them fled with suits to go someplace else, scared that the sky people and grounders would come after them for murder. 
“She’s back from hunting in a few minutes,” Murphy said as he walked into the room. “Good, and her guards won’t be sticking their noses around, right?” Bellamy asked. “Nope, so you’re good,” he said. 
“You really like her, huh? What happened?” He asked as he looked around the room, seeing how much work Bellamy put into it. bellamy was the one to even set up her furniture when they moved in a few months ago. 
“I don’t know. It’s like, right after she got shot, I noticed that I’d missed something about her a little too much,” Bellamy said as he sat down on y/n's bed and looked down at the ground. 
“I knew you didn’t hate her. It’s easy to tell,” Murphy said. “I read this book that was published back in 2023 and they said that people tend to get more annoyed about people that care about. That’s you to y/n,” Murphy said which is definitely true. 
“She’s here!” Monty and Jasper yelled through Murphy’s Walkie-Talkie. “Good luck and don’t be you please,” Murphy joked as he made his way out of the room. 
Bellamy chuckled as he got up and walked to the corner of her room so that y/n wouldn't see him when she first walks in. He wants to see her reaction. He loves watching her smile. 
“Why is my door open!?” Y/n yelled throughout the hallways. Dammit Murphy. “Hello?” Y/n asked before peaking around the corner to the surprise in her room. 
“Oh,” she said confused but slightly amazed. She’s never seen decorations like this before. “Who did this,” she said under he breathe as she took a step into her room with a smile on her face. Just what Bellamy wanted to see. He's never seen her smile this bright. 
“I knew you’d like it,” Bellamy said, making her jump a little. “Bellamy!” She shouted then covered her mouth. “You like it, right?” He asked as he slowly walked towards her. “Yes, I actually do,” she said. You could see her blushing. 
“Good, because it took me a couple of hours to find everything and put it up,” He smiled down at her. “Thank you,” she said as she began to scan the place and walk around. He can tell she really loves it. 
“You know, y/n. I’ve been thinking. A lot. I know we use to be enemies-“ Bellamy said but she cut me off. “You use to be mine. I never hated you but go on,” she joked. 
“Yes, yes, I know,” He chuckled. “But after that day in the room, I felt something. I’ve always felt it but it never came out until then. That’s the day I couldn’t force being angry at you or having some type of hatred towards you,” Bellamy said as she turned around and he walked towards her. 
“Y/n, I really like you and I’m sorry Clarke said those things about you but I don’t like her. I don’t see anything with her. But I do see something with you,” Bellamy said. He softly grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes. 
“So, could we please start over? Start something with each other?” I asked. “Bellamy…” she said as she pulled her hands back. “I can’t. You and Clarke have known each other for a while. I think she’s best for you,” she said. 
“But I don’t want her. I don’t feel anything for,” Bellamy said as y/n shook her head with a chuckle. “She still talks about you. She’s obsessed and loves you,” y/n said. 
“She doesn’t love me. She just hates the fact that I love you and now her. I’ve never loved her. I barely ever liked her,” Bellamy said making y/n shake her head. 
“Yeah, that’s not what she keeps saying. Apparently, you guys have been secretly dating for years and still sneak around at night in your room or go off somewhere where no one will see you,” y/n said, making Bellamy’s blood boil. 
“And who the fuck has she been saying this shit to?” Bellamy asked. “Me, Monty, Jasper, and maybe a few other girls,” Y/n said. “Well, that shit isn’t true. She just wants you away from me, that’s all,” Bellamy said, trying to softly grab y/n hands again but she backed up towards her bed. 
“Look, we can’t work out, okay? It’s not going to happen,” she said. “Why? Why can’t it work?” Bellamy asked with a tone, getting tired of excuses and other people getting in the way between him and her. 
“Because Bellamy! I don’t want you! You’re too different from me,” she said. “What are you talking about? No one who’s together is exactly the same, y/n,” Bellamy said as he stepped towards her. 
“You’re not for me, Bellamy so just- Just leave, Bellamy,” y/n said but he didn’t listen. “Y/n, you’re perfect for me. I love how different you are,” Bellamy said as he went to grab her waist slowly but she slapped his hands away, shocking him. 
Y/n walked passed Bellamy to get out of his face since he won’t get out of hers but he quickly grabbed her from the back and pulled her away from the door. 
“Let me go!” Y/n yelled at Bellamy. Bellamy threw y/n on the bed and then quickly ran over to her door, shutting and locking the door so that she’ll listen and stay where he wants her at. With him. 
“Bellamy, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, annoyed that he can’t just leave her alone. Why does he fight so much for her? Why does someone like her so much? She’s not someone who’s likable like this. 
“I’m here to show you love, y/n. I fucking love you and you know that. That’s why you’re pushing me away. You think you’re gonna hurt me or some crazy shit but you’re not. What’s going to hurt me, is if you don’t accept me and love me back. I know you like my touch and presence,” Bellamy said as he made his way toward her. 
“No, no, no! No, Bellamy! I-l don’t love you! I don’t!” Y/n yelled at him as she rushed her hands through her hair and rubbed her face, stressed that this is happening. She can’t run like usual. He’s got her trapped. 
“Stop lying, y/n. It’s getting annoying and makes you look more pathetic,” Bellamy said, getting angry. “Pathetic!? You’re pathetic! You have to trap a woman in a room to force her to love you,” y/n said. 
“I don’t have to force shit, and you know that. You fucking know it, so stop lying!” Bellamy growled at her as he grabbed her wrist tightly. “I’m tired of you fucking lying and denying. Admit it. Admit it now!” He yelled in her face, shocking her. 
“No,” she firmly said, hating the dominance someone like him can show over her. She’s never felt any kind of dominance against her but from Bellamy. She can’t seem to function right with him talking to her like this. 
“Get on the bed,” he demanded after letting her hand go, giving her a chance to listen. “No,” she said, once again with a tone, trying to stand her ground until Bellamy picked her up and threw her on her bed. 
Bellamy kept his silence as y/n began to yell at him. He didn’t care. He wanted to shut her for once and make her submit. He wants to get rid of the lies and excuses. 
“Bellamy, what are you doing!?” Y/n finally asked after noticing Bellamy’s shirt off. She’s never seen Bellamy with his shirt off. She’s seen his built-under wet clothes hut never more. This is a lot for her. 
“You like the clothes I gave you in a box? They’re perfect for you,” Bellamy said, making y/n think. Murphy, Monty, and Jasper said that they gave y/n the box so she’d have the best up-kept clothes since she’s the leader of her people. Now she’s finding out Bellamy chose them all. 
That explains the revealing parts, her panties, and bra that seemed a bit too pretty for Monty, Jasper, and especially Murphy to pick out for her. She knew they’d never do that. 
“Y-You picked these out?” She asked, knowing the answer already. “Of course I did. Otherwise, I’d have a talk with Murphy about what he picked out for you,” Bellamy smirked at y/n as he slowly climbed onto the bed. 
“Now will you finally let me taste you? I bet you’re sweet as a fresh berry,” Bellamy said as he tugged on y/n shorts. She tried slapping at his hands but she’s not really fighting him like she should be. 
“Look at that… You look so cute in these tiny little panties,” Bellamy said after getting her shorts off. She tried covering herself up but it was not enough. Bellamy laughed at her attempt as he began to pull her panties down, so focused on what he’s been dying to see. 
“Fuck, you’re wetter than I could’ve imagined,” he said under his breath. She had shaved today in the shower for the first time ever. She grew up thinking shaving wasn’t even a thing until Bellamy’s sister gave her something for her birthday. 
“No one’s ever touched you here, haven’t they? Tell me I’m the first, baby, and I’ll treat so you right. Better than your people. I’ll worship you more than anyone else can, baby,” Bellamy said, becoming full of lust by the second. 
“Bellamy, I can’t,” y/n has snapped out of what felt like a dream, angering Bellamy. “I’m tired of this shit,” he said as he quickly parted y/n’s legs and dived in without warning, lapping his tongue around her floss and clit faster than she could blink. 
“Bellamy!” Y/n moaned loudly at the foreigner feeling. She’s never touched herself in any type of way down there so everything she’s feeling feels too great for her. She’s too sensitive. 
“P-Please, Bellamy! Oh my!” She cried out, feeling her nerves hit her and her clit swell up. Bellamy began to suck any and everything he could reach. She grew wet, only making Bellamy eat her out sloppier. 
“I-I-I can’t Bellamy! I can’t!” She kept crying and shaking as she felt her stomach tighten. She’s never felt this before. She thinks she’s about to pee on Bellamy’s face but Bellamy knows he’s about to take the sweetest thing he could possibly taste. 
“Cum in my mouth, baby,” Bellamy said, and right after, y/n released all over his mouth and chest as she shook and rolled her eyes back. The moan she let out felt like music to Bellamy’s ears. He’s never heard of anyone so beautiful before. 
Bellamy backed away and hovered over y/n watching her eyes shut and her body shiver from the new feeling she just received.  
Bellamy began to take his jeans off as y/n lay there a whining mess, not being able to shake off the orgasm she just had. 
“Work with me and I’ll go slow. Resist and I’ll put you in your place, princess,” Bellamy said as she slowly moved in between y/n’s legs, triggering her kind as she felt his bare skin. Her eyes widen in shock at his size. 
“B-Bellamy, what are you doing? What is this? What is that?” Y/n asked, feeling a bit scared even though she knows Bellamy would never hurt her in any kind of way. 
“It’s yours, princess, and the only right thing to do with it is to get to know it and soak it with your heavenly sent sweet juice,” Bellamy said as he brushed his tip against her entrance to watch her jump a little. 
“Let’s see who’ll win this fight,” Bellamy said right before pushing balls deep into her cunt as she screamed and scratched at his chest and abs, feeling the pain but pleasure. 
“N-No, this is too much!” She whined as she tried pushing away from Bellamy but he’s not waiting any longer. Bellamy gripped y/n’s neck, placed his hand next to her ok the bed to keep himself up, and began to thrust. 
“Bellamy, Bellamy! Fuck, please! Please, Bell,” y/n moaned loudly, surprised at her language and the nickname she called him. “What’s wrong baby? You can finally not take something?” He laughed in her face. 
“You’ve been stabbed, shot, thrown off of hills I heard and you can’t take a cock?” Bellamy teased as he sped his thrust. “You can’t take a simple fucking cock, but you can take all of this other shit!?” He shouted at her. 
“You’re so pathetic,” growled in her face as her eyes rolled back and her moans got trapped by his tighter grip around her neck. “And you’re about to cum? Didn’t know you were a little slut to degrading, with the title you hold,” Bellamy chuckled as she squeezed his cock. 
“I-I’m not,” she whined, which broke into a moan as she came around Bellamy’s thick cock. “Fuck, yes. Cum on my fucking cock and I might treat you better when I fuck your little body,” Bellamy grinned down at her. 
“Bellamy,” y/n moaned as she softly grabbed his face and fucked up onto him. Oh, you’re horny? You like it, huh?” Bellamy asked, very surprised that she’s feel comfy with this so fast. 
“Y-Yes, I like it,” she whined. Y/n tried pushing Bellamy to the side but he was too strong. He watched her struggle until he let her overpower him and climb onto him. 
“Oh, shit,” Bellamy said shocked as y/n grabbed his cock and lined herself up to her own entrance until she dropped down on him with a loud moan. “Fuuuucck!” Bellamy bucked his knees. 
“So sexy,” Bellamy growled as he pulled y/n’s shirt and bra off. “Ride me, baby,” Bellamy said. Y/n didn’t waste any time to start. The moans leaving her mouth were nonstop. Her rhythm is as well. 
“You ride so good baby. All of that adrenaline in this sexy little body, coming to life,” Bellamy wrapped his large hands around her waist to help her. He gave her ass some smacks here and there, only making her sex drive higher. 
“Never knew your tits were so beautiful,” Bellamy grabbed one for a few seconds then began to pinch her nipple to give y/n a better feeling. “Bell,” she moaned as she leaned down in his face. 
“Right there,” he said, feeling his orgasm right around the corner. She stuffed his mouth with y/n’s free nipple and began sucking, only having her cum for the 3rd time with a wilder shake. 
She still tried to ride him but soon stopped as Bellamy held her down with one of his hands on her waist. Bellamy groaned loudly as he released a big load into y/n. He’s never shaken before. But this time it felt too good to hold still. 
Both pulled each other closer together as they rode out their orgasm together.
After cleaning each other up and talking about what the two should do further, they decided to officially be something. 
Y/n had to explain to Bellamy that if she were to date someone, within a month, they’ll have to do a traditional marriage because of her title of the leader. 
Bellamy couldn’t have had better news said to him. It was one thing for him to be her boyfriend but officially making her his is something he thought he’d have to wait years for. No, he doesn’t. 
Y/n and Bellamy lived life to be the best couple anyone could have imagined. They’ve grown both of their people closer and helped generations of people understand that no one is truly your enemy unless you make them out to be. 
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months
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Dark Moon | Chapter Five
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Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader
Word Count | 2,7k
Warnings | +18, MC is attacked, insults, receives hatred and humiliation, angst, blood, Jimin takes care of her and also teases her, slight fingering, Jimin tastes her, MC does not understand her feelings, Hoseok grabs her by the neck
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This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.
I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
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⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.
And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.
That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.
He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.
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➢ Author's Note | Hi guys, here's the fifth chapter of Dark Moon 💜Let me know what you think, I've only been writing yandere for a short time, but I love it and I hope you like what I write too 💕🥰
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Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon, @hecateslittlewitchling, @namjoonsbuspass, @darkuni63, @xicanacorpse
Taglist is open!
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Chapter List - Previous - Next
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"Here she is, Jimin's new dog."
Y/N lifted her gaze to Ester, the woman watching her with disdain and a more than obvious expression of envy.
Other girls behind her giggled, as if to humor her, and Y/N preferred not to respond to that provocation.
After the terrible evening she had spent with that monster, she just didn't want to know about fighting with that chick as well, her face aching from the slaps she had received, as well as her head from the repeated tugging. Not to mention her throat, she was so ashamed to even admit it to herself.
"Aren't you going to answer? After an evening of getting fucked like a bitch in heat, I bet you don't lack appetite," Ester spat between her teeth, pointing to the small plate of cookies the young woman had indulged in, after a whole day spent in her room, between the covers. Terrified that he might return to finish the job.
"Leave her alone, Ester! It's certainly not her fault that you're no longer in Jimin's good graces.... ever if you were ever there, maybe you found yourself in that position because you were the only one who could stand it," Hanon interjected, Ester seemed hesitant to continue with her torture, from what Y/N understood, Hanon was Namjoon's favorite, and everyone knew the man had quite a bit of power within the Dark Moon, almost on par with Seokjin himself.
"Why do you get in the way? Have you become best friends yet?"
"You said I am Jimin's new dog.... does that imply that you were previously one too?"
Silence fell in the room, the women present stared in surprise at Y/N, then a growl ripped the air and the girl felt something hit her head, she screamed in shock at the sudden aggression and fell back, bumping into a tea table that caused her to hiss from a sharp pain in her side, then a weight not inconsiderable for one of her build came down on her.
Soon realizing that Ester was striking her in a frightful fury, the young woman dodged a few blows by covering her face with her hands, but she could not avoid Ester's well-manicured nails that dug into her cheek, leaving long scarlet streaks as a reminder.
"Ester, that's enough!!!" shouted Hanon, shocked by her colleague's fierce anger, grabbed her by the shoulders pulling her back, but she really only moved a little before she came back to strike at every point Y/N, who tiredly grabbed Ester's hair, pulling it to herself before punching her in the nose, the one with a stunned cry froze, falling to the side.
"What's your problem!" gasped Y/N in shock, touching her face with her heart struggling against her rib cage.
To her horror, she saw the fingers of her hand smeared with blood; all the women were watching her with their hands to their mouths, confused by that sequence of events far too fast to reason logically.
"My problem is you, you filthy little bitch! I don't know where the fuck you came from, but I'm going to make sure I bring you back, so it'll be just like before!" growled Ester with murderous eyes and a bloody nose, raising her arm once more so that she could strike the young woman, but a much larger and stronger hand clamped around her wrist, blocking that violent movement.
Jimin looked somberly at Ester, who fell silent in response, making herself tiny.
Then the boy cast a glance at Y/N, whitening slightly. The girl had ruffled hair and an obvious wound on her face, a trickle of blood flowed down from her forehead to join the disaster that stretched across her cheek, she was also holding her side with a pained expression, her arms were red, and bruises would surely appear soon. Ester, on the other hand, had only a streak of blood under her nose; it was obvious who had started it all, but the man wanted to hear it.
"I won't repeat myself twice, who started this?" his grip on her wrist intensified, Ester squeezed her eyes shut in pain but did not speak, nor did the others.
Y/N looked at Jimin and Ester with disdain, him because he was the cause of her pain, her because she was so obsessed with the man that she had gone so far as to beat her for no good reason.
But the boy did not seem angry with her; perhaps she could have used that situation to get that woman out of her way; he had a feeling that with Ester around she would not have an easy time of it.
It was Hanon who spoke up, trying not to put too much stock in the young woman, who by snitching would surely attract the displeasure of the other women as well. But that was how it worked there, newcomers were always the victims of bad jokes and nastiness.
"Ester didn't understand her place here, so she didn't take your decision well, Jimin."
Ester gritted her teeth, glowering at the older woman, who was not intimidated by her gaze.
Jimin nodded in her direction, casting another glance at Y/N.
"Take her to her room, let her stay there until I return," Hanon immediately took a step toward Y/N, but Jimin blocked her, "I wasn't referring to her."
Y/N winced as Jimin threw Ester to the floor, who let out an outraged cry before the boy stepped over her to reach Y/N.
"You're coming with me," he said harshly, before lifting her by the arm without hurting her to the profound amazement of the young woman, "You need to be medicated," he hissed under his breath to be heard only by her, the others watched that exchange increasingly dumbfounded, never had they seen Jimin so caring toward one of his girls. Nor had he been with Ester, who felt a painful twinge of jealousy sweep over her without her being able to do anything, not in Jimin's presence. She had to bow her head in the face of that defeat filled with humiliation.
"Can you walk?" asked Jimin coldly, Y/N nodded but he looked at her skeptically, she was limping as she continued to hold her side that had hit that tea table, the blow must have been quite severe and Jimin with an all too natural movement passed one arm under her legs and the other around her hips, lifting her up like a hapless little bride.
"I can very well walk by myself," she hissed with contracted lips, not only had she yet to recover from the pain he himself had caused her, now she was also feeling strange twinges in her head and face, she was losing blood and still did not know what had hit her head so brutally.
"Jesus, give it a rest!" blurted Jimin, lowering his gaze to her face, they found themselves inches apart, their breaths mingled and Jimin squinted his eyes at the faint scent of cherries and peony that the girl exuded, her expression seemed to him that of a frightened puppy trying to show herself strong in front of the hunter, "You need me, no one else will stand by you like I do," he continued, feeling a strange feeling of possession in his chest, she could only survive because of him.
"You think you scare me?" she huffed like a cat, but Jimin sneered as he entered through a door the girl had never seen before.
It soon turned out to be the infirmary of the Dark Moon, the beds arranged in a row in that space so white and clean it sent chills down her spine, it looked like a room out of a real horror movie.
The boy had her lay down with a strange delicacy on one of the beds, before walking away in search of products to disinfect the cuts.
"Do you feel pain anywhere?" he asked, Y/N licking her chapped lips from the long bites she had given herself the night before out of nervousness.
"I was beaten, of course I feel some."
"You're right" was the man's simple reply, which led the girl to wonder what he was up to, he seemed far too placid, she was sure that in another situation he would have slapped her for her boldness.
When Jimin reached her with everything she needed, the girl flinched, fearing a sharp reaction. But the boy remained firmly in place, scrutinizing her expressionlessly.
" You’re scared for so little, sweetheart," he sneered, earning a glare, "Now, let me see."
It took Jimin the next few minutes to realize that the extent of the damage was too great to settle for simple disinfectant and bandages, something heavy had been thrown at the girl's head, which continued to bleed, albeit more slowly. Moreover, the scratches on her cheek were deep, from whatever angle he looked at her he agreed that stitches were needed there, and he was not really the person for such a job.
For the moment he dabbed the medical substance with soft cotton, Y/N hissed occasionally squinting her eyes, escaping the boy's predatory gaze.
"Are you... Are you going to punish her?"
Jimin blocked his action, tilting his head slightly to observe her better, they were so close that he once again smelled her scent.
"Don't you want to?" he asked, but she turned away, "No ... that's not it. You want me to punish her," he chuckled.
He took her chin between two fingers, forcing her not to look away from his.
"Do you like this awareness?"
Y/N clenched her fingers, clinging to the sheets as if to escape a disgusting guilt, and her mind was asking her to lie, to evade it.
"Go ahead, tell me. What is it that causes you pleasure? The fact that he will suffer for beating you... or the idea of someone standing up for you?"
"No!" she exclaimed, knowing she was lying.
Jimin held her tighter to him, "Liar, you've lived a shitty life and I bet no one has ever bothered to make you feel protected," each word was a stiletto to her poor heart.
He was right, she wanted someone to protect her, she was tired of fighting the world alone, she just wanted to rest. She needed a hero to chase away the bad guys for her, but Jimin was no hero and he certainly would not be hers.
"Stop it, you don't know anything about me! You're just a madman who kidnapped me and took my sister away!" she exclaimed with tears in her eyes, hitting him in the chest with weak fists, the man towering over her with his weight, crushing her against the bed.
"You only have to look at you for a moment to realise that you're just a little slut quivering for a little attention, would you get wetter if I told you I'd be willing to kill her to avenge you?" an electric shock to her core was what made her miss a beat.
No, she could not get aroused by such evil. She was not like him, she was not-
She arched her back as Jimin's hand sank without warning into her intimacy, she hadn't noticed the silent movement under her skirt and gasped wordlessly as his fingers moved in and out of her soft slit.
"Mhm... Yes, you are such a slut all wet," giggled the boy.
She tightened her legs around that hand, felt the man's fingers curl up before snapping out with a strange wet sound, watched him lick her essence with the tip of his rosy tongue, before sucking in contentedly.
Jimin squinted his eyes as he swirled the taste of her on his tongue, his palate was in ecstasy at that forbidden sweetness, the thought of ripping off her panties and licking her until she screamed tickled his mind, but torture was his speciality.
As if he had done nothing naughty, he went back to applying patches to her face, all under the shocked eyes of the woman, who had not even moved to avoid that little sexual assault.
Which she still couldn't understand.
"Ester will get what she deserves, don't worry," he clarified, "But you will have to surrender in return."
"Surrender to what, to you?" huffed the young woman, shaking her head, "I am not yours, Jimin."
The man felt his cock stiffen and swell inside his boxers at the sound of his name, spoken in a low, persuasive tone.
He smiled like a feline at the hostile provocation, putting his lips to the young woman's, "You will beg to be mine".
He was about to kiss her, his intentions could be read clearly, he tilted his head to reach her better and Y/N imperceptibly moved her head further back, indecisive. Was she to fight and deny herself? Was she to give him at least that once as thanks for saving her from Ester's fury? But that would once again have been like selling herself as a prostitute.
Her doubts were not answered, the boy's soft, turgid lips never reached hers.
"Am I interrupting something?"
The look Jimin gave the man standing in the doorway must have been worth a thousand words, because Y/N saw him stretch his lips into a smirk.
"You know very well, Hoseok."
The girl frowned, then remembered. It was that red-haired man who had laid hands on her sister that night.
A blind rage pervaded her, with what courage was he showing up there after all he had done to a little girl?
She jerked off the bed with a force she never believed was hers, pushing Jimin away who was stunned at her reaction, wanting only one thing, to ruin Hoseok's beautiful face.
She almost succeeded, almost.
For even before the girl's hands could reach the man's perfect face, Hoseok did not find it difficult to peg her by the throat two feet off the ground.
The young woman struggled against that death grip, gasping for air and kicking at his abdomen to try to stop him, but Hoseok seemed to chuckle at her grit.
A firm grip imprisoned his wrist, Hoseok looked with a raised eyebrow at Jimin, who was watching him coldly.
"Leave her, hyung. I don't want to repeat myself."
"She attacked me out of the blue, I'm just teaching her to stay in her place," blurted his friend, tightening his fingers even more around that thin, soft neck.
Jimin inhaled through his nose, "She's hurt, she's not thinking straight. Look at her, she's still bleeding and needs stitches," he hissed, trying to calm himself. He didn't want to argue with Hoseok, he was a close friend and didn't want to go that far, as sensing his thoughts the man let go of his grip in a rush, causing Y/N to tumble to the ground, who took to coughing paonazzily in her face.
"Then call a doctor," he said adjusting his jacket, "But mind you, one more little joke like that and you won't be able to save her, I heard about the fight and was curious how she was doing, I didn't expect such a welcome."
"You raped my sister!" croaked in tears, Hoseok tilted his head.
Then he raised his eyebrows, as if he suddenly remembered.
"Ah, yes...that whiny girl who was with you, I didn't rape her, I just ascertained if she was a virgin, and she was lucky for her," he shrugged, "Surely she'll be better off than you," he sneered, casting a glance at his friend, "She ended up with a big shot, you on the other hand will be forced to take a lot of cocks."
Again that annoyance, Jimin did not know where that sense of oppression he felt in his stomach came from every time he imagined her with another man.
"You're a disgusting being," hissed Y/N at the address of Hoseok, who laughed openly.
"Well, I'll be off then... and who knows, maybe your next client will be me."
"Don't bother," was Jimin's dry reply, which surprised Hoseok and Y/N.
Hoseok sealed his lips, Jimin was very strange in the last few days, just since he had kidnapped that girl, he understood that it was better to cut it out, an angry Jimin was also a lethal Jimin.
He took a step back and with a nod to his friend got out of the way, collapsing the silence in the room.
Y/N felt her eyelids grow heavy, slumped to the floor and did not hear Jimin's half-expletive, which caught her before she could hit her head.
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v4mpgutz · 6 months
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can u do smth where ethan buys reader a promise ring pls 🥹 ur fics are amazing 💜
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Paper Rings, Ethan Landry [ ONESHOT ]
— i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings
non-gf ethan landry x gn reader -> dating
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note: THIS REQUEST AHHH i've been waiting to base a fic off of this song for a while i kiss ur head and i'm glad you enjoy my fics !!
warnings ! — none, just a whole lot of tooth-rotting fluff! + reader doesn't have a specified gender but this was written with an afab reader in mind — nothing points to this fact though ! :)
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you and ethan hadn't been together for all that long, a year and a half at most. it took him a while to comprehend the depth of his feelings for you and it was really scary for him.
growing up having been pressured to constantly be as good as or better than his older brother really messed with his head. he constantly had doubts that he wouldn't be good enough for you and that you deserved someone better — someone that wasn't him.
over the course of the first few weeks you and ethan had actually been together, there was cute little dates, hand-holding, giggling into little (sometimes awkward) kisses and him trying to get a grasp on his feelings.
majority of the time he couldn't quite put a finger on what emotions he was feeling. sometimes he thought he was angry when he was really just sad, sometimes he thought he was anxious when he was actually excited.
with you, though? he'd never understood an emotion so clearly in his life.
his heart was filled with love for you, that he knew. love so pure and soft and gentle that it felt like almost nothing could tarnish it. you made him understand himself better — you encouraged him when he would beat himself up over bad grades, you loved him; and he loved you too.
that was precisely the reason why he found himself buying you a promise ring. he'd seen you eyeing a specific one each time you shopped together and you'd talked about promise rings to him a few times.
originally, he didn't know how to feel about those because what if it jinxed your relationship? what if you ended up splitting off and going your seperate ways?
however, after a few weeks just spent thinking it over — all up in his head about it; he decided he wanted to get you one. it'd be a surprise, of course.
one night he had your hand next to his, a measuring tape over the width of both of your fingers. he acted like he was simply comparing handsizes, laughing when you pointed out that he was measuring the wrong way.
"oh, you're right, baby," he chuckled but made a mental note of the size of your left ring finger.
the next time you went to the mall together he kissed your cheek gently before pulling his hand away from yours. "i'll be back, angel," he told you, "just need to go to the bathroom."
you nodded and sat on a bench in the food court, mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you waited for him.
he made sure you weren't looking before he snuck off to the jewellery store, wanting to be as quick as possible so you wouldn't get suspicious. as soon as he was being served, he told the employee the exact ring and size.
it was made to be, it seemed, when the older woman told him that was the last of that ring in that size they had in stock.
he smiled brightly and thanked the woman, paying (quite a hefty price) and slipping the little box into his pocket. he'd get a matching one for himself later, he thought.
when you'd both gotten back to your apartment (which pretty much belonged to the both of you now), he'd sat down with you on the sofa. he kissed your hands gently and pulled you into his chest, the two of you sitting there together in silence for a few minutes — just in eachother's company.
he felt his stomach bubbling up with nerves but pushed them back down. nothing was going to ruin this moment. he cleared his throat to which you perked up, pulling away from him to look into his eyes.
"i don't know much about how to do these things without being awkward," he mumbled as his eyes looked anywhere but at you.
"i wanted this to be special and i know that it's been hard... dealing with me and all, but now i know that i can trust you. i really feel like.. like you understand me better than anyone else ever has before and i can confidently say that i love you."
he took a shaky breath, a smile plastering itself onto his face.
"i know we're still young but i truly think i want to spend the rest of my life with you," he went on as your eyes widened in fear somewhat. "th— this isn't a proposal!" he quickly reassured you, to which you calmed.
he pulled the box out of his pocket and presented the ring to you, "not a proposal — but a promise that one day, there will be one."
he watched as your eyes lit up, tears gathering along your waterline as you let out a choked sob with a smile. you hugged him tight and took the ring, holding it tenderly in your hands.
ethan watched as you slipped it onto your left ring finger, kissing his cheek and then his lips.
"thank you so much, eth. it's beautiful, i love you."
the brunette-haired boy looked away, bashful before turning back to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "there's honestly nothing i wouldn't do for you."
you admired the ring before glancing at his own left hand, "where's yours?" you asked with a frown.
he laughed awkwardly and chewed his bottom lip, "didn't have the money to get it but i knew i had to get yours today."
ethan looked up, confused as he saw you get up from the couch and heard the jingle of your keys. "where are you going?" he asked, his brows furrowed.
"we're going to get your half of the promise."
your boyfriend simply stared at you, a puzzled look on his face. "i don't have enough money though? i just said that."
you smiled at him, eyes squinted slightly, "i'm buying it. promises are fifty-fifty."
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i loved writing this sm omg
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darkcircles4lyfe · 5 months
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This doesn't have anything to do with anything, but i had a talk with a friend a few days ago, about shonen biasis and the way this shapes our expectations, and mha came up so i remembered how so many people apply those biasis HEAVILY into the manga, to the point that they sound like they're looking for a different story.
And one of those things that it seemed to be MOST talked about is exactly bkdk's relationship.
I have seen many times people from the fandom (sometimes really angrily) point out how in most cases Katsuki seems to basically take up not one, but four roles in Izuku's life and this includes putting him in situations that people associate with the MC's love interest, and it is weird that, despite Izuku "having a girl" for people to make assumptions about, he seems to completely repulse any female character that could be the counter part to Izuku's.
And this made us wonder if Katsuki's placement in those roles and lack of interest was made specifically because the author precisely did not want the actions that both do for each other as romantic but a whole another thing entirely, as a subversion for the these classic tropes, as he did by making the conflict between Ochako and Himiko not a "rivals fighting for the affection of a boy" but something that is connected to the plot of these characters instead.
Oh you bet! I am always down to talk about this, because I think about it a lotttt.
This reminds me, recently I remembered a funny habit I used to have with books I read. Like, back in middle school. I used to start by flipping directly to the last page and reading the final sentence. Usually this did not spoil anything whatsoever, but sure enough, by the time I read through the whole book, that sentence would take on new meaning.
So I started musing about what it would be like if only I could do this with bnha, if everything was already out. It made me feel so nostalgic…
Will the last panel be something grand, or something small? Hopeful or sad? Distant? Intimate? A parting message to the reader? Will it look like almost nothing of consequence to the unknowing eye—yet burst with hard-hitting subtext?
Of course I wonder about all the twists and reveals that might be still ahead of us, but it’s kinda soothing to think about how the whole thing could be put to rest. Because then I realize I’m not worried.
For once, this is not because the story is following so many tropes so predictably that I know exactly, in so many words, how it will end. It’s more like the story is a close friend who I’ve gotten to know well enough that everything they do is so “them” it makes me smirk. I'm often marveling at how Horikoshi has managed to pull all this off. How is it that (at least here in the west) people who aren't really paying attention call it basic and cookie-cutter. Even a Japanese animator called it "classic," and this interview shows such obvious dissonance between Hori and the interviewer, just... wow. But it's so clear that bnha has broken just about every rule in the book at this point, so much so that I struggle to condense it into words. I'm like--*gestures broadly at everything*--why haven't more people picked up on it??
Yet we still get bombarded with people saying "it's a shonen, c'mon, we all know how this will end." Um. No you don't. I KNOW there has to be a bunch of people who are secretly frustrated by Kacchan taking up all the roles and getting all the moments. It's not even in a mysogynistic way, because Kacchan is the most anti-dudebro character imaginable. Bkdk's relationship isn't intended for them and they know it... and you know what, I'm starting to ramble. You've heard all this before. The thing I should really be focusing on in your ask is the part where you mentioned how you and your friend were speculating about bkdk ending up as "a whole other thing entirely" rather than simply romantic.
Well, fuck it, I've been biting my tongue, but now might as well be the time I talk about this. I got into a bit of a disagreement with someone over it once and then I shut up. Because it's very difficult to approach the subject without being lumped in with those people who see bkdk as "brotherly" (ew) or otherwise try to push some "crisis of male friendship" agenda, or at the very least without being accused of enabling people to make excuses against bkdk being canon ad infinitum. So let me be clear that I do NOT want bkdk to have an ambiguous or open ending. I want their complexity and importance to be acknowledged. I want them to use their words. I think we may have created a bit of a false dichotomy there.
I am aromantic, and to suggest romantic relationships are inherently the most important and intimate goes against every fiber of my being. I also reject the idea that cut-and-dry gay representation is more desirable just because it is more easily understood by the masses than aspec representation or representation of relationships "beyond" both romantic and platonic. We recognize how ridiculous it is for people to expect Izu*cha at this point, right? Well, the reason they're so confident anyway isn't just because of heteronormativity. It's also because of amatonormativity, the assumption that romantic attraction trumps all: no matter how much focus bkdk get, Izuku blushed at Ochako, so that automatically makes them more "important." THAT is the notion that I want to challenge most. More than anything, I want bkdk's relationship to be fully acknowledged because they have so much more going for them than just attraction.
You and your friend make an excellent point, that it would be very much in line with Horikoshi's taste and the patterns of his writing so far if he chose to subvert the shonen romance trope not just by giving it to two boys, but also by disregarding its premise entirely. It's unlikely he'd try to stuff them into such a copy-paste ending right at the end.
So maybe they won't get the blushy confession, the obligatory kiss, the wedding, the 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. That's fine, we shouldn't pretend those tired tropes are suddenly revolutionary just because they're gay. But don't be disappointed! Without them, we have more room for things that are actually personally meaningful to bkdk to stand out and receive the nuance they deserve: talking through their feelings openly, building each other up like no one else can, understanding each other like no one else can, smiling at each other, embracing, holding hands, rushing to the other in the hospital, being glued at the hip (or even closer), healing mutual trauma, putting each other first in all things. Maybe we'll also get confirmation on Ochako's side as she moves on from her crush on Izuku. You know what other shonen manga took this exact angle as a way of subverting tropes and presenting genuine complexity? Blue Flag! There are so many ways to do bkdk justice.
Even a kiss isn't out of the question, if the right opportunity comes along. A perfect example of what I'm talking about is Good Omens (major season 2 spoilers) because the kiss between Crowley and Aziraphale was not at all about canonizing them. It was an expression of pain and desperation that just made sense at that particular moment. Neil Gaiman was adamant that if it took that kiss to understand the context of their relationship, you really weren't paying attention. I respect the hell out of that.
Recently I was even daydreaming about bkdk getting something similar to the sort of uh, shall we say tasteful nudity, that togachako got, because of how Izuku appears in the vestige realm.
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Ya know like not in an nsfw way but in like a "this is so deeply intimate and soft that I feel like I'm intruding" kind of way... yeah. Because it represents vulnerability and openness and acceptance of someone as they are. And I don't care if people call that bait. It's not. It's beautiful. It’s honest.
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shares-a-vest · 11 months
Text
I know that an Edward Cullen-type version of Vampire!Eddie probably isn't an original thought but, bear with me on this nonsense...
Eddie knows he came back different after waking up in the Upside Down alone. As he made his way back to Hawkins-proper, he noticed his senses were heightened. He had a thirst he couldn't quench when he broke into Steve's house and drank some of his beer from the refrigerator in the garage.
In fact, it made him sick.
Then when Steve caught him, taking a swing with a baseball bat covered in nails, he realised he could read the boy's mind. At the time, Steve was scared... Then relieved... Then thinking all about when they had parted ways to enact Operation Death to Vecna...
So Eddie stopped listening at that point. It seemed private and probably not the most pressing matter anyway because he was most certainly very much alive again. But not... Sort of...
It couldn't be vampirism, could it? He had been chomped up by bats. But he had read enough stories, including the one and only Dracula a time or two. And, if his whole Spring Break had taught him anything, any beast of fantasy and fiction was possible, right?
Though he is still pretty miffed that dragons don't appear to be real...
He finds himself arguing with Steve in his plaid-encrusted bedroom the following morning, curtains drawn. Steve wants to call in the cavalry (aka, Dustin) to talk through his "symptoms" and confirm his suspicions.
"Harrington," he says sternly, "I'm telling you, I'm totally a vampire."
He wants to stomp his foot he's so frustrated with the flustered boy before him. Flustered (okay, annoyed) from arguing about what the hell has happened to him as they stand in the middle of the bedroom, a beam of sunlight dividing them as it streams in through a gap in the curtains.
"Fine," Eddie says as he rolls up the sleeve of his tattered Hellfire shirt, "I'll prove it."
He braces himself, balling up his fist as he sticks his hand in the beam of light.
"Wait stop!" Steve yells and lunges forward.
But nothing happens.
Well, not nothing.
His skin isn't burning to a crisp, nor has he spontaneously combusted.
He is still intact in Steve's ugly bedroom.
But his arm is fucking sparkling like it is made of goddamn diamonds.
"Whoa," Steve says, stumbling upright. He stares at Eddie's skin, mesmerised with his mouth agape as he whispers, "Pretty."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie huffs.
He retracts his arm and stares at his alabaster skin before shoving it into the sunlight again.
And again with the fucking sparkling!
"No!" Okay, now he stomps his foot.
He retreats once more, this time backing all the way to Steve's desk where he slumps onto the chair.
"This is so fucking lame," he pouts, crossing his arms.
"Eddie," Steve beams, striding towards him, "This is great, dude. If you are a... vampire..." he momentarily makes a face, "You can go in the sun! Your life barely has to change. Although I don't know what we are going to do about the fresh meat situation. Does your uncle know how to hunt? Because I've only been once when I was eight with my dad and I - "
Eddie cuts him off with a loud groan as he hangs his head in his hands.
Trust him to become the most pathetic kind of vampire.
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redeliminator · 28 days
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Well, they did NOT survive their teenage codependent homoerotic friendship
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I have the priviledge of being an adult and being able to look back on my teenage years happy that I made it out. It wasn't easy and I had my fair share of pretty dark experiences, so I've been thinking A LOT what would have happened to me if I had found myself in a position like Andre when I was 17. So I wrote it down - the story of Andre and Cal's relationship from (mostly) Andre's POV and the whole emotional turmoil of ending your life alongside your best friend. All with a couple of not-so-subtle personal throw-ins. It's a mess and a long one on top of that, I'm sorry ;__;
After years of living with all these thoughts you’re too scared to open up about, suddenly it turns out that your (only) lifelong friend is actually not that different. Not only doesn’t he flinch at your uncanny remarks; he actually thinks they’re spot-on and laughs at your jokes that would probably send you straight into detention.
So far, the more people learnt about you, the more they drifted away. Suddenly, it doesn’t happen. Quite the contrary, the messed up things seem to strengthen the bond instead. For the first time, someone welcomes you into their inner life just the way you are and doesn’t expect you to “mend your ways” before they let you in. You gradually uncover the parts of yourself you have never shown to anyone before. It feels like the weight of the world is lifted off your shoulders. Like it was destined to happen. It feels real.
It is not at all surprising that in the end, you brought out the worst in each other. After all, your final bond was built on the acceptance of the darkest parts of your personalities. You fed off each other to the point of lethal codependency. You were nothing without him and he was nothing without you.
It was insane. But you felt validated. Starving for someone who understands, you clung to each other and never let go.
So, when you’re standing in that library, guns slung over your shoulders and blood spilling beneath your feet, and that guy, who led you out of that lonely misery and gave your life a spark, tells you that you’re done - well, you’re done. You’d follow him anywhere because what other choice do you have? You killed people. You’re not getting away on your own. You’re not doing it without him. It’s either both of you or none of you. So you agree.
But deep inside, you know there’s so much left to say. The world is wide enough for the two of you, why wouldn’t you want to explore it? We had a plan, we were supposed to last. All of that is suddenly cut short. Just like the lives you’ve just taken. What an irony.
And suddenly you wish you had never left that car. Or that you had swerved it just before pulling into the parking lot. What the fuck are you doing?! That’s when it should have been said: I’m done. You’re done. We’re done.
You never figured out if it was platonic or romantic. You probably didn’t even know what platonic meant. But there was one thing you had no doubt about: that loving him was the easiest thing in the world.
… until it wasn’t. 
That love tripped you up just when everything you thought you wanted was only a few inches away. Suddenly, it felt like jumping into a lake only to realize that concrete bricks have been tied to your feet.
You might have been done with the revenge, but you weren’t done loving him. In fact, you barely even started. You never even fully acknowledged it. You repressed it, scared of and confused about the intricacies of your own identity and feelings.
But what are you supposed to do about it now? Where will all that love go, if you refuse to go down together? Do you even have a choice at all? You won’t make it on your own. The only choice you have is whose hand will fire the shot that will end it all. There is no “if”.
It’s pretty safe to say that you agreeing to a double suicide is a spur-of-the-moment decision. No one would think clearly when faced with this kind of choice under such circumstances. You have just taken more than a dozen innocent lives. If they catch you, it’s game over. It’s a pathetic failure.
You were supposed to escape in a blaze of glory: a getaway car, a police chase, a rain of bullets fired towards you as you take one last look in the rearview mirror knowing you’re never gonna see this town again. You’ve turned the place that destroyed you into smoldering ruins and now you kiss it goodbye. It doesn’t get better than this.
But it’s not what happens. Suddenly, as you look around the room and glance over the dead bodies, you realize the thrill is gone. The excitement has vanished into thin air. The only thing you’re hearing are police sirens and people whimpering in pain. The reality of what you’ve done and what awaits you comes crashing down on you. It’s not glorious. It’s not rewarding. It’s bleak and hopeless. It’s a dead end.
Andre had to tone down Cal's carelessness during the preparations. No, we’re not gonna break into Brad’s garage and risk being spotted. No, your open mic poetry evening was not a fun idea; it was inconsiderate and dangerous. No, even if we had an M-80, we wouldn’t use it for a ceremonial explosion at my family’s vacation home where everyone could see it. 
And suddenly, as they’re wandering through the school looking at the carnage they caused, the roles get reversed. It’s Cal who has to lead Andre into the grim reality. 
We’re not making it out. We can still leave on our terms though. It’s your call.
The question is, did Cal really believe they didn’t stand a chance or did he use the circumstances to get what he wanted: for both of them to die?
If Andre didn’t agree, would Cal have the guts to shoot him himself? I don’t think he would. There was only one way Cal wanted it to end. I think Cal may have had some sort of feelings for Andre, but, in a fashion similar to Andre, he didn’t know exactly what these feelings were as he never got around to disentangling them. Cal was mentally ill, heavily unstable and out of touch with reality, but I think deep inside he still had the ability to feel. He could barely connect with that part of him, but it was still there. And Andre kept it alive because he did something no one else would ever do for Cal. He provided Cal with the means to die the way he wanted. A spectacular way out. 
And Cal would be forever grateful for that, even if that “forever” would come to an end in just a matter of seconds. How do you even thank someone for a favor like this? Thanks for letting me die, even though you didn’t know I planned it? How do you find someone who you don’t even have to ask for it? Hey, what would you say if we killed a bunch of people to send some twisted message that only we understand and then we blew our brains out? 
The thing is, none of them had to ask. The idea was already there. Maybe except for the “blowing our brains out” part. In any case, this is a one in a million chance that you find someone like this.
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detshin · 2 months
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uhm, how exactly will gosho develop the cousin thing in the manga.
I mean, I wouldn't know, honestly. What goes on in the mind of that man only he knows (and sometimes I doubt even that).
My opinion under the read more...
Personally, I've already stated many times that it's a trope I've liked and headcanoned for a long while now, and it's not like it's COMPLETELY out of the blue. The whole "they look the same" is a big factor, there have been references to them having some sort of "ancestor" in common, the Toichi and Yusaku tease was already there in the childhood case of Shinichi (where Toichi appeared and called Shinichi big bro btw 👀) and there was a time long ago that Gosho said something about it in an interview and that it was going to be talked about.
Anyway, point is, I could see this going in different ways. I would LOVE to see this being explored and dealt with nicely and seriously, but my hopes for that are low. He'll either just have it mentioned and never more explored or talked about (like with akemi and akai), or maybe in the mk manga now to talk about Toichi, I don't know?
Because honestly, I feel like people are getting hung up on the cousins thing and are forgetting about the confirmation of what we all have been fearing and it's that Toichi is indeed alive and both of Kaito's parents suck ass. And what scares me is the possibility of it being comedic or Kaito being okay with it or something when he deserves to have that be explored. He became a criminal because of it! And his parents know and aren't doing ANYTHING!
I've said this before, MK is not as shits and giggles as it seems. Story is pretty darn dark if you think about it. Kaito is one of if not THE most solitary (lonely) character of the dcmk universe. He is not as the fandom tends to represent him sometimes. That's not Kaito. The over the top, flirty, pompous one is Kid. It's a mask. A facade. Kaito is not like that, he is just a teen who is struggling to make real connections with people and who is terrified of being found out as a criminal and cannot for the life of him let people IN because they'll see right through him and whose "dead" dad taught him NOT TO SHOW HIS EMOTIONS.
Kaito NEEDS some support. Jii alone is not enough. His own parents have lied to him his entire life and he's constantly alone, grieving for something that is not real. He has Aoko, but he CAN'T let her in completely for obvious reasons. Hakuba's there, but same thing. And I'm sorry but Akako I don't really think counts either, he actively seems not to really even like her or whatever...
MY POINT IS. If Kaito can get some new family members that could support him... Why refuse it, no? I'm not talking about Yusaku because he's also been keeping him in the dark and all and hasn't really seemed to do anything about it. But Yukiko (yes I'm choosing to believe she's also oblivious to Kaito being put in that situation) and Shinichi? Oh, those two could do wonders for someone like Kaito, in my opinion. Because Yukiko is Yukiko (she was born to be the cool aunt), and Shinichi is... Well... Shinichi. He could understand Kaito and actively show him support and help. They COULD be amazing as family.
Now it's all just a matter of... Does Gosho WANT to go that deep into this? Or is he going to continue to disregard Kaito's suffering and not give him anyone to lean on?
Anyway, cousins Kaito and Shinichi rule!
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