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pearl-blue-musings · 4 years

Note

Could I order a medium well steak with mashed potatoes and peas please? I’ll be splitting it with Bakugo and/or Kirishima ☺️

Oh honey yes yes you can!! And thanks for giving me my first poly fic ☺️☺️ 💪💥

Pairing: KiriBaku x fem!reader poly is this happening or.???

Warnings: smut, 18+, oral fem and male receiving, hair pulling, one or two daddy calling, threesome, fingering, spanking, it’s my first time writing poly mkay

Enjoy your meal~

Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki, and you. Friends since high school and now inseparable in your fourth year of college. The dynamic between the three of you was always energetic, supportive and fun. Most of your friends always found you three together and it would always be weird if one of you was without the other two. Yes, this was perfect, it was working, it was fine.

It didn’t matter that feelings between the three of you began to shift from platonic to romantic.

When did that start really? Well it could be boiled down to a couple of instances. The first one being your first major heartbreak in college. You were a freshman, young, a little naïve, so you dove head first into the arms of an upperclassmen who claimed to see you for you. Until you saw him in the arms, rather sheets, of someone else. The pain you felt was excruciating as you ran and told your two best friends. Each of them lending an ear and some advice to your heart slowly closing off to them and the world.

“That extra didn’t deserve you anyways. You can do way better.”

“I already got your favorite ice cream. Now come on, I know you wanna cry in my shoulder. We’re here for you.”

You hadn’t expected them to be so kind and caring about that. The three of you ended up cuddling together and watching your favorite movies. It was confusing. This is normal for friends right? Totally platonic for friends to snuggle and provide affectionate care after a bad break up. Totally and completely.

But your heart can’t stop racing and you can’t stop the warmth you feel from their closeness.

The next time was when Bakugou’s college hockey team made it to the national title your second year. You and Kirishima had been at every game, even the ones out of state. You cheered him on and yelled at all the right times when plays and calls seemed unfair.

“You call that an infraction? Bakugou barely touched that guy, come on!”

“Hell yeah bro! That’s how you score on those unmanly boys over there!”

He never admitted it, but seeing the two of you in the stands at all of his games made him want to play harder and better, push himself to be the best despite any potential injuries he could have gotten. Being able to hear your intense screams over the crowd and Kiri’s booms of what’s manly on the ice and what isn’t made his heart race in a way he couldn’t figure out. There’s no way it’s the l word. No, they’re his best friends.

That’s all it is, he loves his best friends in the most non-romantic way possible.

The third and last instance was a little more personal between the three of you; starting with you and Kirishima. It was a party, celebrating Kirishima’s new job at the university gym, where you began to realize your feelings. The apartment was filled with close friends and some acquaintances where alcohol and some drugs flowed freely. The two men had lived together with a couple other guys they knew so for the most part they were on host duties. When you had finally arrived with a couple of your girlfriends, you greeted the blond and red head and continued to dance and mingle with your friends.

About an hour after you had entered, you walked over to Kirishima’s room to use his bathroom (you didn’t want to touch Denki’s bathroom) in his room. When you walked into his room, you were surprised to see him standing in front of his closet, half naked and changing shirts.

“Ah geez Eiji! Sorry to interrupt, I’ll wait outside.”

He chuckles and finishes putting on his shirt. “It’s all good pebble. I just had a little spill and needed to change.” He looks you up and down in an unfamiliar way. “Did you need to use my bathroom?”

You feel your cheeks heat up at how close he had gotten. It had to be the alcohol, right? That’s the only explanation. “Yeah,” you huff out, “but I don’t know if I need to go anymore ha ha.”

He grins at you and asks, “do you wanna sit for a bit? I feel like we haven’t had much time just the two of us.”

And who were you to say no to one of your best friends? So you sit beside him on his bed, something you’ve done plenty of times before. But somehow this felt, different. You feel him lay his head on your lap, a move he’s done before to indicate how tired he is and you naturally rake your fingers through his soft hair. You wish he would wear it down more often, you think he looks better that way.

“You really think so?”

You look down at him and freeze. Seems that you were talking out loud instead of in your mind. You giggle awkwardly, but keep your fingers attached to his scalp. “Yeah,” you hum. “It looks really nice.”

He hums into you, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his hair. A soft smile adorns his face as he muses to himself, “wouldn’t it be funny if Bakugou gelled his hair down?”

You don’t do much to hold in the laughter that erupts from your stomach, making the man in your lap laugh with you. The small intimate moment between you becomes more intimate when Kirishima sits up to look you in the eyes, his pupils dilated. You feel his hand come up to your cheek as his thumb rubs circles near the crease of your eye. “God you’re beautiful,” he whispers holding your gaze. The hand that was previously in his hair rests on his broad shoulder. Had he always been this rough yet soft to the touch? You don’t realize you’re sharing breaths until his next words are felt on your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod fervently and close the short distance between your lips. The rush that you feel when his warm lips are on yours is an experience you want to relive over and over. Just like him, his kiss is soft and full of care as he gently kisses you. Kirishima’s hands run down your body and find comfort on your hips while your wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. You can feel how hard he is from your bodies grinding on each other.

You break for air with a string of saliva connecting your lips. This is it. You might’ve known it for a long time but it’s glaring at you right in your face. You love him, and from what you can muster, he loves you too. The way his fingers are still touching you even though the act of passion has ended. Your foreheads are touching as you both exchange breaths.

“I,” he starts, “I think I’m in love with you. Well, have been for awhile.”

You smile when he smiles and slowly peck his lips. “I love you too, Eijirou.” You pause to cup his cheek and feel happiness grow inside when he leans into it. “But what about-“

“Bakugou?”

“Yeah.”

Your hand falls into your lap and Kirishima reaches for it. He holds it gently and strokes his thumb at the back of it. The silence in the room isn’t complete because of the muffled music and shouting outside the closed door. You part your lips and struggle for the next couple of seconds to say the right thing. “I don’t want our dynamic to change.”

“Neither do I. But I can’t deny these feelings I’ve had for you anymore! Ever since that jerk cheated on you at the beginning of college, I think that’s when my feelings started. I hated seeing you cry and I vowed that if you ever did cry that I would be the one to wipe away your tears and take care of you. Not that you can’t take care yourself, you know what I mean!” Your light chuckle helps him to keep talking. “But I think about how it’s always the three of us and… I don’t wanna leave Katsuki out of this, us! It wouldn’t feel right.

“And I think when we saw him score that winning goal last year, with the way you looked at him I thought you could never look at me that way.”

Your back sits up straighter at his words. Was that true? Did you also have feelings for Bakugou as well? He had turned his face away from you at his admittance, but you pulled him back for a kiss. This one seemed to be more heated and passionate than the last as your hands search and prod his warm body all over.

You were so tightly wound up in each other you neglected to hear his door opening.

“Hey dumbass, (Y/n) went in here to go to the bathroom forever ago- what the fuck?!”

Kirishima pulled away from you quickly at hearing his other best friends voice. The two of you do your best to fix your state of clothes but the damage had already been done. You’ve seen Bakugou upset before but never like this. Never like this at the two of you. He looked broken and betrayed.

You face him and get up off the bed, “Katsuki, wait lemme explain!”

Vermillion eyes glare down at you in such passionate anger that you were almost terrified to say anything. “I think everything makes perfect sense to me. You two have been dating behind my back haven’t you.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement.

Kirishima responds first, “wait it’s not what you think, ‘Suki. We actually need to talk to you about something.”

“Tch,” he roughly pulls himself away from the two of you, “don’t fucking call me that. How long has this been going on, hah?! You really think I wouldn’t notice? You guys have been making go-go eyes at each other for years.”

“Would you please hear us out? And close the door,” you murmur, “everyone’s looking in here.”

Bakugou looks to the two of you and then behind him as his friends look on. Most people had dispersed or left so only your close friend group had stayed. Being the good and observant friends they are, Denki was the first to speak up.

“I think we’ll go somewhere else. You three need to talk.” And in his slightly drunk and slightly high daze, he and Sero managed to get everyone out of the doorway and out of the apartment. So now it’s just the three of you and open truth of the situation.

Bakugou roughly shuts the door and stands above the two of you. “So,” he huffs, “how long have you been dating?”

You can’t help but hear the hint of hurt in the last word he said. You want to reach out but know that it won’t help presently. “Ka- uh Bakugou, we’re not dating. We just, kissed and confessed our feelings.”

The ashy blond pouts and crosses his arms. “Don’t lie to me, dumbass. Shitty hair, is that really what happened?”

“Yeah dude, we really were just talking and then we kinda kissed and talked about our feelings.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything!” You had let your emotions get the best of you as you yelled at him. “It’s always been the three of us and we don’t wanna ruin this dynamic we have.”

Katsuki snaps back, “I get it. I would be in the way. Just, fuck, go be happy.”

Kirishima stands up and prevents Bakugou from leaving. “No dude, you don’t get it. (Y/n) and I came to an unspoken understanding:

“We can’t do this without you.”

With his anger subsiding, Bakugou was vulnerable. And in his state of vulnerability, Kirishima took the opportunity to cover his lips with his own. The ashy blond is caught off guard, but eventually concedes into the kiss. Something inside you stirs at seeing your two best friends kiss. It’s not jealousy, it’s contentment; like everything is finally fitting and working out.

When the two males part, their breaths are heavy as they stare into each others eyes. Kirishima speaks up first. “This is what we wanted to talk to you about.” He then tangles his fingers with the stunned in silence blond. “We think, no, we know that we have feelings for each other. But also-“

“We have feelings for you too Katsuki,” you chime in from the bed. “We couldn’t do this, thing, without you. I can’t imagine life without you two.”

Bakugou looks over to where you are on the bed, and his eyes soften. He can see the love in your eyes, a gaze that he’s seen you give Kirishima and maybe you’ve given those looks to him and he didn’t notice? Almost like he thought you wouldn’t have feelings for him, or that his red headed friend would feel similarly.

“Tch, idiots. How long have you,” he looks away as his cheeks start to tint pink, “had feelings for me?”

You stand up and walk up to the shy man, taking his other hand. “I’m not sure. I might’ve realized it when Eiji and I were cheering for you at one of your games… T-the way you looked when you noticed us made my heart leap. You were so happy and satisfied with that look on your face Katsuki. But I was confused cause by then I had already confirmed my feelings for Eiji so I- mmph!”

Katsuki ended your rambling and pulled you into his body. You had always dreamt and fantasized about what his tout and fit body would feel against yours, and it’s better than you could have imagined. Where Kirishima was soft, Bakugou was rough as he licks at your bottom lip and thrusts his tongue in your mouth. You accept him hungrily as your arms wrap around his shoulders. Your lips mesh so easily and effortlessly together that you can’t help but moan.

When the two of you pull apart, Katuski is back to his smug self. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that princess. Damn, so what now?”

The question doesn’t linger too long in the air as the three of you exchange glances at each other. “Well, we just keep doing what we’re doing. You know, now with kissing and hand holding and sex stuff I guess, hehe.” Kirishima laughs out as realization comes to all of your faces. To be fair, you all have already kissed and you doubt Kiri’s earlier hard on has gone down.

Being brave, you step up to Kirishima, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a lust filled kiss. You grind yourself on his torso, forcing him to put his hands on your waist. His grip on you tightens and doesn’t hesitate to lift you up, making your legs wrap around his waist. Behind you, you feel hands trail down your back sensually, stopping at your ass. You pause your kiss with Kirishima to whine at the touch, feeling Bakugou’s hands go down your thighs and over Kiri’s hands.

“Put her on the bed, Eijirou.”

The way he commands the two of you, the way how he growled that out right by your ear made your panties damp. Kirishima nods and walks you two toward his bed, gently placing you down. He works on getting your leggings off, slowly pulling each leg out to keep touching your soft skin. Once they’re off, you’re left in your top and lacy thong, unaware of how the night would turn out. The wet spot at your core doesn’t go unnoticed by the two males and Kirishima licks his lips and Bakugou starts palming at his jeans, hissing as he does so. “Is that for us, pebble?” He takes a single finger and slowly swipes it up your covered slit making your toes curl and a huff of air leaves your lips. “Fuck, baby you’re so wet. Katsu, you gotta see this up close.” He takes off your thong, brings it up to his nose for a long sniff, and stuffs them in his pocket.

You feel a new pair of hands graze your inner thighs, as a head of ashy blond is now seen between your legs. He breathes into your cunt and grins at your mewl, the sound going to his hardening cock. Without warning, his tongue dives into your folds, going in between kitten licks and deep thrusts of his tongue into you. Your jaw drops in pleasure and you can’t help but moan loudly. Bakugou pulls away, and grunts “Think you can shut her up shitty hair?”

You hear the red head chuckle to the side of you as he had already removed his pants and now his boxers. His cock springs free, swinging upward on his abs and already leaking pre-cum. The way you’re looking at him like a full course meal makes his dick twitch. “I can’t wait to shove my dick in your mouth.” You see a little bit of drool fall from the corner of his mouth and just seeing that turns you on so much. He moves to straddle you over your chest, careful not to sink down or hurt you in anyway. His ruby irises meet yours as he caresses your cheek, “is this okay?”

You nod, words failing you because Bakugou hasn’t let up on your pussy. Kirishima inches closer and sit up slightly so that your lips can finally met his warm and hard dick. You wrap your lips around the tip, your tongue flitting at his leaking tip causing the strong man above you to moan loudly. That moan caused a ripple effect from you sucking him harder and Bakugou’s tongue swirling on your clit, which made you moan onto Kiri’s cock. All three of you are beginning to feel extreme pleasure at once, almost as if everything in your lives was building up to this point.

You sink your mouth deeper onto throbbing cock, causing Kirishima to pant and curse. His hips struggle to stay still but your tongue, throat, and mouth are working wonders on him. You never thought he would be somewhat loud in the bedroom, but it’s making you love him more. You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a slap on your inner thigh and but hear an extra one. The extra one you heard was Bakugou lifting his body just enough for him to reach Kirishima’s are ass and smack it. Just knowing he got spanked made you wetter.

“Heh, do you like it when I smack his ass baby girl? You’re gushing down here after I did that. Lemme do it again, yeah?” And you hear the sound of palm against skin and you taste more of him in your mouth after. Bakugou continues his assault on your pussy as your hips gyrate into his face, moans and cries muffled by Kirishima’s long and girthy cock in your mouth. Kiri moves his hand from your cheek to your hair and tugs as he chases his high.

He feels you whine something on his dick and smirk. “You gonna cum pebble? You’re gonna cum all over ‘Suki’s face while I cum down your throat? C’mon baby girl, milk my cock I wanna mess up your throat, ah fuck this feels good!”

Bakugou inserts two fingers into your aching pussy as he sucks on your clit. Your hips are moving out of rhythm as you feel the build up deep in your core want to explode. You suck hard on Kirishima’s cock as he moans above you loudly, filling your mouth and throat with his seed. As he comes down from his hard orgasm, you let out a pop as you let go of his cock. He removes himself from your chest and takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, running his thumb over your swollen lips. “I don’t want you to spill a drop until he makes you cum. If any of it spills or you swallow it without permission, he won’t let you cum and I’m gonna punish you okay pebble?”

You nodded and he lets you go, realizing he hasn’t taken off your top. Kirishima brings you up to take off your top, giving you a look to remember his words just seconds earlier. He removes it and realizes you aren’t wearing anything underneath. He lifts an eyebrow at you and chuckles darkly. “You’re so naughty,” he growls as he takes a hardening nipple into his mouth. He sucks earnestly as Bakugou finger and tongue fucks you. You feel your orgasm getting closer and closer as Bakugou growls into your pussy.

“You ready to cum baby girl? You heard Ejij, don’t spill a fucking drop until I say.”

You nod vigorously, avoiding being vocal to keep your mouth full.

“Then cum baby,” he sucks on your clit harder, “cum for daddy.”

Your own orgasm rocked through you so hard you were seeing stars. You obeyed their commands and only swallowed after you were sure you were done cumming, holding onto Kirishima’s back tightly as your nails dug into it. Bakugou removes himself from between your legs, licking his chin and observing your juices on his fingers. He taps Kirishima on the shoulder and shoves his fingers into his mouth, catching the red head off guard. He moans around the wet fingers as his tongue dives in the valleys of Bakugous fingers. The scene before you was incredibly erotic as the to men didn’t break eye contact.

“She tastes good doesn’t she?”

“Mmm,” he releases with a pop, “fuck yeah she does, babe.” Your chest heaves up and down as you come down from your high, truly enjoying the moment between the trio of you. Kirishima lightly plays with your breasts still as Bakugou moves to the other side of the bed. “Get her on all fours. I can’t wait to fuck that mouth of hers.”

The two of you do as he says, and you get on all fours on the bed. You see Katsuki undress and you do your best to keep your dirty thoughts to yourself as you realize you are in the presence of two god-like looking men. You feel Kirishima smack you ass and you yelp out the sudden sensation. You hear him snicker behind you as you feel his hands knead your ass. The man behind you leans over you, hands trailing up your back and sides as he asks. “All of this is okay, right?”

Bakugou grunts, “speak.” He grabs your cheeks and forces you to look at him, “now.”

You nod at first, but remember that your mouth is empty. “Yes,” you pant, “please have your way with me, daddies.”

Wet lips attach to yours as you make out with Bakugou once more, accepting your consent. Kirishima palms at your cunt, making you clench around nothing, as his other hand reaches for his nightstand to grab a condom. The red head had no idea that he would need these anytime soon, especially with the two of you. Once the condom is on, he lines himself behind you, teasing your hole with his tip. At the same time, Bakugou lines up his aching cock with your lips, outlining them with this dick.

When Kirishima finally pushes in your eyes go wide. You knew he was big, but fuck would he fit? He moves slowly for you to adjust to his size and length. You pant wildly as he grips your hips tighter at how slick you are. Soon enough, he’s bottomed out in you and waits. He can tell you aren’t used to his size yet and traces your spine to comfort you. “You’re taking me so well, pebble. Tell me when it’s okay for me to move, okay?”

You let out more shaky breaths and then crane your neck to give him the most blissed out face he’s ever seen. Tears are building in the corner of your eyes, pupils blown out and your tongue lolling to the side as you tell him to move. And when he does, you never thought that fucking, no making love could feel so ecstatic, so euphoric. The feeling is overwhelming but you love it, it’s a good overwhelming.

You barely have time to moan because Bakugou shoves his needy cock into your mouth. He’s not as big as Kirishima so blowing him is going to be a fun adventure. You wrap one hand around the base and hollow out your cheeks as you suck him in. He hisses above you as one hand finds purchase in your hair. His hips stutter a bit when you lick a stripe up his cock from base to tip. A few pants escape him when you do that but what has him moaning more is when you lick and play with his balls. His grip gets tighter as you keep playing and messing with his cock and balls.

Meanwhile Kirishima is slamming into you, his balls hitting you with every thrust. You never knew you needed this but now that you have it you don’t want to go with out it. There’s one particular thrust he gives that makes your eyes roll back and stop working on Bakugou briefly. He tugs at your hair and you get back to licking and servicing him. Above you, you feel a hand on the middle of your back and a hand leave your hair. You catch Kirishima whisper a “c’mere” and the sounds of lips and tongues melding together is heard. The scene is absolutely erotic and you are living for it. Having your two best friends, no lovers, make out above you almost makes you cum again as your pussy clenches.

Eijirou pulls away when your pussy clenches around his dick in order for him to whimper at the sensation. He starts pumping into you harder, wanting you two to cum for the second time. You have a feeling Bakugou is close because his thrusts have become erratic and he’s pulling on you harder. The pull of your hair and the way Kiri’s dick feels inside you is enough for you to cum.

You whine on Katsuki’s dick, seeing the tears in your eyes as his hips keep moving back and forth. “You ready to take my seed, huh pretty girl? I know you are, just look at you. Fuck,” he moans out, “you’re something else princess. Shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum. Unf, (Y/n), EIjirou, fuck!”

His cum fills up your throat, some of it spilling out the side of your mouth. You swallow what you can and release him with a pop. Your breathing is ragged as you admire the taste of both men mixed on your tongue. The hands that were previously on your hips go to your stomach and pull you into a strong chiseled chest. Kirishima rests his forehead on your shoulder blade as he fucks you harder. “C’mon pebble I’m so close, I’m so close. God you feel amazing,” he mewls into your ear. One hand goes to your swollen nub and rubs at it intensely. Your voice raises an octave as you practically scream in pleasure, the waves of your second orgasm hitting you without warning.

Kirishima pumps up into you faster after he felt you tighten around him. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum (Y/n). Katsuki I’m cumming, I’m cumming! Ah fuck!” He holds you tightly as he pumps through his orgasm, speeding up and then slowing down as the both of you calm down from your highs. You stay impaled on his cock, enjoying the sheen of sweat between the three of you. Bakugou comes up to you and kisses you sweetly, carefully lifting you off of Kirishima’s dick. He takes a finger to trace along the outside of your face and then over your lips. He lays the two of you down on the bed, just embracing the moment. Kirishima gets up and shaky legs to take care of the used up condom. He throws it in the trash and then heads into his bathroom. When he comes back out, he hands Bakugou a towel and the two of them begin to tend to you and clean you up. “You did so well for us babe,” Bakugou whispers, kissing your cheek and wiping your right leg. Kirishima has your left and himself to clean up.

Once you’re all cleaned up, Kirishima takes the towels to the laundry room and returns with bottles of water for each of you. He slides under the covers, the top comforter replaced with a Crimson Riot one, and cuddles up to you and Bakugou. “So,” he starts, “does that mean we’re together? Like officially?”

Bakugou who’s facing the two you, with you in the middle, rolls his eyes and extends an arm out to the adorable red head. “Dumbass, I wouldn’t have done this if we weren’t. Now shut up,” his voice lowers, “she’s asleep.”

The diner is open

#answered #the diner #bnha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #bakugou smut #kiribaku #kiribaku x reader #eijirou x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #kirishima x y/n #first time writing poly

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language, nudity (but, like, for art), and violence Warnings: Unhealthy dynamics, including violence between the shipped pair, leaning heavily into the "enemies" part of "enemies to friends to lovers" Summary: Local vampire discusses art, depictions of certain anatomy, and enjoys the company of her feral soulmate for 4.5 minutes. Then it goes to shit (as things tend to do). 0-60 Real goddamn quick. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly

4: Portraits For Ghosts

“Am I really supposed to just… stay here? Did she honestly think that I, of all people, would behave? The universe gave me two good hands, and by God, I intend to make that someone else’s problem,” you mutter to yourself as you get dressed. It’s not that you necessarily had anything in mind, rather that you hated the idea of waiting around for who knows how long for Cassandra to return. Especially considering what she had done prior to leaving. Sure, you had laughed, but that hadn’t meant much in the end. At this point, you hadn’t even been out of the dungeon for a full day yet, and the memories of what happened there were fresh in your mind. Nightmares, too, even if you had pushed them aside to deal with Cassandra’s. Why did I bother? You wonder, frowning. There was hardly any point to comforting a monster, no matter the way they trembled.

Or at least that’s the lie you sold yourself.

Soon enough, a knock at the door brings you out of your head. Daphne, maybe, you think, remembering the maiden from yesterday. When you open the door, however, you’re met with an unfamiliar woman. She’s a few years your senior, at the very least, and appears surprised to see you. In her hands is a very enticing tray of food.

“Lady Cassandra wanted me to bring this to you. I am… I am glad to see you are feeling better already,” she says, voice shaking. What was with these maidens and assuming you were anything like your soulmate? Though that last part did catch your interest. Something told you that she wasn’t at all referring to your time in the dungeon. If you had learned anything from Daphne, it was that the best way to get information was to be indirect. So you graciously accepted the food, before speaking, dodging your way around your ignorance.

“Yes, it’s amazing what a bit of meditating can do for the soul- and body, that is,” you start, watching closely for any veiled reactions. Even within the first few words you can tell that this stranger wasn’t expecting you to be pleasant. “Out of curiosity, what did my Lady say about my condition? There are, uh, a few details that I hope she did not share. I’m sure you understand.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, the maiden is nodding, appearing eager to satisfy you. Maybe a hint of fear can be useful, after all.

“No worries, Lady Cassandra did well to respect your privacy, and we would not dare question her further. She simply explained, to her family, that you were dealing with a migraine. I only heard this because I was helping serve breakfast,” she explained, smiling softly. You’re quick to nod, mimicking her expression for maximum empathy. “Do you require anything else? I am here to serve, you must only ask.” Ah, perfect. Would she have offered this even if you hadn’t attempted to be charming? Probably, but your politeness certainly didn't hurt.

“Well, there is one thing… as long as it’s no trouble.”

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It had been a risk, asking the servant to take you to a room you weren’t sure existed, but one that had paid off brilliantly. Even if said room was nothing like you had anticipated. Who would have thought that Cassandra, you think, would be an artist? What’s far less surprising is the fact that the studio (or ‘study’, as you had called it) is a disorganized disaster. Discarded papers lie scattered around an overflowing trash can, a cabinet with an attached tool rack is missing pieces, and in one corner there are literally random shards of broken glass lying about. What is this, performance art? Part of you feels tempted to clean up the mess, if only to occupy your time. Instead, you decide to examine some of the pieces within the room. Maybe somehow they’d tell you something noteworthy about your soulmate.

First, you move to your left, where a workbench houses strange sculptures. For the most part they’re abstract, jagged edges contrasting with gentle curves, but there is one you think you understand. It’s very clearly a bust… of someone’s ‘bust’. Guess that solves the age old question of ‘boobs or ass’, you think, stifling a giggle. Moving on, you shift your attention to the exposed section of the cabinet. One row is dedicated to small vials, each labeled with a concerning ‘blood’, despite the fact that it’s clearly not refrigerated. Still, you have heard of artists painting with blood before, but you seem to recall them mixing it with something else. Perhaps Cassandra had done the same? Though you did wonder if she had any difficulty resisting the urge to drink the blood, at least prior to mixing it.

Shrugging, you continue to the other side of the studio, squatting to get a closer look at the broken glass. As expected, there’s no discernable pattern or purpose. Huh, you think, wonder why she doesn’t clean up. Maybe she’s waiting for a servant to do it? Guessing her reasoning was rather difficult, especially considering your lack of context, such as how long the mess had been here. Deciding that this was a pointless distraction, you move on to the only other thing of note in the room: An easel, in the center, with a canvas nearly as tall as yourself. So far, there’s little on it other than pencil lines, a sketch marking where to paint certain details. Only the (start of) the background has been colored. Understandably, it’s hard to make out what exactly the finished project would end up representing. Based on what you know of Cassandra and her family, however, you infer that this- with four figures, one larger than the others, protective- is a painting of the castle residents.

“Family means something to you, hmm?... I hope that mine does not miss me much, for I will never see them again,” you say to yourself, instinctively reaching out towards the art. Before you can touch it, or think better of it, the door to the studio is flying open. In storms Cassandra, fists clenched at her sides. As soon as she sees you, she’s rushing forward, pulling you away from the easel. “Hello, darling. Glad to see me feeling better, yes?” You teased, smiling wide at her. Feeling a bit emboldened by your earlier success, you go a step further, leaning in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I swear to fuck, if you touched any of my stuff-” Cassandra starts to say, intentionally ignoring the kiss, even though her cheeks get flush at the contact.

“Nope, not a single thing. Not even the broken glass. Nice touch, by the way, makes the whole space feel a helluva lot cozier,” you interject. For a few moments she holds you by your shirt collar, staring you in the eyes as if determining whether or not to believe you. Somehow, some way, she declares you innocent, releasing you with an irritated sigh. After pretending to dust yourself off, you return your attention to the central canvas. “Do you do a lot of art of your family? I passed by several pieces on my way here, though they were certainly in a different style.” Another pause, with Cassandra waiting for you to spring a verbal trap.

“Some of those are mother’s work,” she answers, tentatively, eying you closely. When you merely nod in reply, expecting her to elaborate, she starts to relax, little by little. “I doubt you passed any of mine. Mother tends to keep those closer to her quarters, or near the main entrance.” Interesting, you think, why hasn’t she addressed my original question?

“It sounds like she’s very proud of you,” you muse, still facing away from your soulmate. There’s a slight shakiness to your voice, as your mind starts to dwell on memories of your own family. Perhaps noticing this, Cassandra takes a few steps closer, one hand hovering over your shoulder, not quite sure if you needed (or perhaps deserved) any comfort. In this moment, you feel far more vulnerable than you had the day before. Taking a deep breath, you try to center yourself, before perfectly ruining whatever trust you had just established with Cassandra. “Something tells me she doesn’t know about the titty sculpture though, right? Can’t quite imagine that one being displayed where everyone can see it.”

To your immense surprise, Cassandra gives you a blank stare.

“You… you really don’t know anything about my mother, do you?” She says, after several awkward seconds. It feels strange to think that she had been furious, merely a handful of minutes ago. “If you actually behave for a while, I can show you some of her favorite pieces around the castle. Then maybe you’ll understand.” Intrigued, you debate how exactly to respond. On one hand, you did want to see the art, but on the other hand… misbehaving was your goal of the day.

“Sounds like a nice date to me. Why not start the tour right now?” You suggest, hoping to meet your ‘politeness quota’ earlier rather than later. Still, it is in your very nature to be chaotic, and you find yourself giving Cassandra an affectionate shoulder touch. It’s not at all genuine, but the two of you blush nonetheless. How could you not, when your blood was bound together, hearts made to race in sync?

“Don’t get friendly with me,” Cassandra stammers, unadjusted to the way her pulse pounded. “This isn’t a date. We’re just- it doesn’t matter, actually. As long as it means getting you out of my studio, I don’t care.” With that said, she takes your hand in her own, pulling you towards the exit. If she has any feelings about the soft touch, she hides them well… unlike yourself. Cheeks flushed, you’re half tempted to yank yourself out of her grip, hating the way your heart skips a few beats. Would I still feel this way if I didn’t know we were soulmates? You wonder, biting your lower lip to prevent any unwanted comments from slipping out. Soon enough you’d have art aplenty to distract yourself with. Hopefully.

---------------------------

“My God, you were not kidding. I don’t- I can’t even think of anything clever to say,” you chime, staring dumbfounded at the several statuettes of naked women. They seemed to fulfill some other purpose, one you couldn’t parse at the moment, but you could hardly think about the details right now. “I mean, good for your mother, for sticking to a theme, I suppose,” you continue, tripping over your own tongue, uncharacteristically quiet. Clearly amused by your flustered display, Cassandra lets out a hearty laugh.

“Good to know some things can shut you up. I’ll have to keep this in mind for next time you bother me,” she teases, light-heartedly. Her words only fluster you more, though they quickly give you room to counter, much to your joy.

“Is that so? Planning on carrying around a busty bust for the rest of your life, or thinking of going the more au naturel route?” You asked, briefly sticking your tongue out at Cassandra. It takes her a moment to understand what you’re getting at, but as soon as she does she’s smacking your arm with an offended huff. Despite her irritation, the blow is relatively soft, and you swear you can see her fighting to hide a smile. “Starting to go soft on me, are you? I hardly even felt that one.”

“So you’d prefer I hit you harder? And to think you called me kinky,” Cassandra fires back, without a hint of hesitation. Now both of you are laughing, softly, like old friends sharing fond memories. It’s… weirdly nice. A warmth fills your chest, even as you try to remind yourself that you shouldn’t be happy right now. Damn it, you think, suddenly frowning, hands clenching. We shouldn’t be having fun banter, back and forth like a real couple. Not when I’ve still got wounds from her hands on my skin. Instinctively you reach up to your face, thumb running over the marks Cassandra’s nails had left behind. The touch stings, bad, no matter how gentle you try to be. Noticing your shift in expression, your soulmate inches closer. “If your wounds are bothering you, I can have one of the servants get more ointment or whatever it is we have around. I don’t want you to-... There’s no reason for you to suffer more than you need to, besides, I don’t want you complaining all day.” Of course she couldn’t bring herself to imply that she cared. Of course. It wasn’t like the two of you were actually capable of being soft for each other, obviously. All of your confusion melts down, boiled by the warmth in your chest, turning to a familiar, albeit painful, rage.

“Right, right! Because you care so fucking much, yeah? What the fuck am I doing? Why am I-” you jab a finger towards her chest, accusatory- “talking to you? Why am I pretending you're not the one who did this to me? You’re the fucking reason my face hurts, my shoulder hurts, my brain-... I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened down there. I can’t get those goddamn images out of my head, every time I close my eyes, every time I look at you. I…” You trail off, chest heaving a little, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra’s standing tall, unflinching, but there’s a noticeable regret in her expression.

“What. Are. You… going to do about it?” She asks, through clenched teeth, fighting back the full force of her emotions. You can’t tell what exactly she’s feeling, but you know that you want her to show you. Every part of you is itching for a fist fight, regardless of how stupid you know the idea is.

“Depends, dickwad, on whether or not these statuettes are properly secured,” you snap, already moving, fully abandoning all impulse control. By the time your hand grips the first sculpture, Cassandra has put you in a headlock, forcefully tugging you backwards. Panic sets in, making you try to jam your elbows into her stomach. Before long both of you are tumbling to the floor, bodies already aching, limbs flailing wildly in an attempt to hit a target, any target. In the end the air is knocked from your lungs as your head smacks against the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” you grumble, coughing, finally processing just how much of a dumbass you were. It’s clear that at least one of the previous day’s wounds has reopened, and you feel something wet and sticky on your shirt.

“Finished, asshole?” Cassandra wheezes, sounding dazed, roughly pulling you up by your shirt collar. You nod, refusing to meet her gaze. Then she’s sighing in relief, letting you lean on her for support, holding you surprisingly close, considering the circumstances. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Again…”

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #enemies to friends to lovers #blunt teeth sharp tongue #got some fun banter in this one!#followed immediately by heartbreak #they want to be soft so bad #but they do not know how #i promise they will eventually be soft #you have to remember that this is still less than 24 hours after part 1 #the reader is traumatized

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troubatrain · 3 years

Text

the times when things got hard...

two blurbs following want you to want me

read the rest here!

Matthew was having a hard time.

Everything was just bad. Changes were coming in Calgary and Matthew was falling behind for the first time in his life. He was down to the third line, he couldn’t score a goal to save his life, and while he was falling apart - he was enviously watching you succeed. Matthew had maybe three more weeks until you’d be at his doorstep from a training camp you had to attend. He was being patient, trying desperately not to call and make you feel upset for not being there when he was having a rough time. He’d been on his own for long enough, Matthew knew how to handle it, but everything was different now.

You were the first person Matthew talked to in the morning and the last one he talked to before bed. Your apartments in your cities had both of your names on the leases. Every piece of the homes were littered with relics of both of your accomplishments. Those things were important to your relationship, but the only thing Matthew had yet to do was lean on you for emotional support when he really needed it. Chantal once told you it might never happen, years of watching his father come home with nothing short of a smile on his face and advice to his kids to just leave it on the ice.

And you were fine with that.

Well, you were trying to be fine with it. You knew Matthew was having trouble, cringing when you saw him snap a stick in half in the penalty box the night before. He had bags under his eyes, exhaustion clear in his voice over Facetime right after. Those things were obvious, but when you were bed alone and Matthew didn’t ask you once for phone sex, you knew he was down bad. So you snuck a flight to Canada, keeping your secret to yourself until you unlocked the door to your shared apartment.

You put your things away quietly, throwing on a pair of Matthew’s sweats you were secretly missing because all of the ones you’d stolen just didn’t smell like him anymore. You missed him more than you realized, down the way he always made your coffee in the morning, and even though it wasn’t the way you usually drank it - you took it with a smile.

Then you heard a door slam, causing you to jump. You’d caught the last bit of the game in the car, listening to the radio with your cab driver who had nothing kind to say about the current state of the city’s hockey team. It wasn’t pretty, a ten minute major throwing Matthew out of the game and just as you suspected, he was pissed.

“Babe?” You call out, stepping out the bedroom and taking Matthew in. Fresh black eye, cut above his brow making it clear that even if he’d won that fight it wasn’t pretty. His tie was long gone, loose around his neck with a few buttons undone. He looked sad, a deep sigh leaving his body when he finally saw you.

Matthew didn’t say a word, emotionally overwhelmed to the point where he was speechless. You were standing right in front of him, like he desperately needed you to be. He didn’t have to ask, beg for you to be there for him, and something about that was so important to Matthew he didn’t have a word to describe it.

“I’m awful,” Matthew mumbled, pressing his head into your neck. You could feel the tears freely flowing from his eyes. Your heart was breaking, a guilt washing over you that maybe you could have been there sooner.

“Matty, you’re having a tough time right now but that doesn’t mean shit and you know that,” You try to reason with him, running your fingers through his overgrown curls. He shook his head no, his fingers digging into your hips, “Babe look at me.”

“No,” Matthew shook his head again, and you just took a deep breath, “Everyone wants me out of here, you’ll probably be next.”

You grab his hand, holding it out for that same silly handshake Matthew made up when you started dating. His lips twitched, forming a smirk while he slapped his hand against yours. Left, right, and a sweet kiss to your lips just like he always did, “I’m not going anywhere… except for back to camp.”

“You’re allowed to be here right?” Matthew questions, voice raspy and his lips ghosting over yours. It was a weird guilt he felt, like you’d left before you were supposed to for him and that if you were in some shit it would be his fault. He never wanted to be the reason you felt held back, a constant battle with his own selfish need to want you around but his unselfish want to see you flourish.

“You needed me and I’m here,” You whisper, leaving out the part where you really shouldn’t have left but if you were back by Monday nobody would know you were ever gone. You grab his cheeks, gently wiping away a few stray tears that had fallen from his eyes, “Please don’t ever think you’re a burden for talking to me about the hard times. I’m here for the good and the bad, the way you’re playing isn’t

going to change that.”

“I love you,” Matthew mumbles, pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips to your forehead, “And I missed you so much-”

“I did too, we have some time to make up for, I think,” You look up at Matthew, who had a smug smile and his brows raised at you. His hand landed on your ass, a chuckle following.

“I think my dick missed you the most.”

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

****

She’s barely even with him.

It was one comment on your instagram photo, some stranger deciding they knew more about your relationship with Matthew than you did. A series of comments followed, all because Matthew insisted on using that stupid rocket emoji on your picture, all of them the same.

I heard it’s all for PR so he doesn’t look like a bad guy.

He’s definitely cheating on her.

It wasn’t just that, things had been hard on you lately. You hadn’t scored in weeks, your loss column just getting higher while wins seemed to slip out from under you. Every part of your body was sore, that terrible habit you had of pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion was hard to break. It was even harder when Matthew was all the way in Canada and he couldn’t be there. You didn’t want to complain about it, there were plenty of times you weren’t there for him and whining wasn’t helping either of you, but you needed to see him.

You deleted the text on your phone a thousand times, a please come see me cry for help that Matthew couldn’t answer. He was on a road trip in New York, and there wasn’t anyway possible he could leave. Besides, it would’ve been unfair to put him in that kind of position.

Except Matthew knew you were struggling, keeping tabs on you while he was away because that was part of being a good boyfriend. Every loss your team took was breaking his heart, and you were way too stubborn to admit when you were upset. Which is why he started with a simple text.

Hey, I love you, and I’m proud of you.

No answer.

Matthew furrowed his brows, laying back on his hotel room bed and wondering if you were mad at him. Did he miss something? There was no way, a promise Matthew made to himself that he wasn’t going to fuck this up for himself by forgetting something as simple as an anniversary. He settled on Facetiming you, and when the phone only rang once before you ended it, he knew you ignored him. He called, two rings before you finally picked up, sniffling into the phone.

“I’m still enough right?” You whisper, your position much like his all the way in New York. You were laying in your bed, the one you’d shared with your boyfriend dozens of times, trying to fight off your own personal demons.

“You’re everything to me, you know that,” Matthew rushed out, his eyes widening at your words, “Babe-”

“You wouldn’t cheat on me?” You ask, Matthew mentally trying to figure out if he could swing a quick trip to Chicago and be back to play the Rangers by seven the next night.

“Never in my fucking life,” Matthew promises, shocked that you’d even think that. You were different, and he didn’t play games when it came to your relationship, “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“It was just some comments on my Instagram picture about how we’re barely together, and, fuck, Matty they’re right,” You cry, Matthew was silent on the otherside of the phone, “I miss you and I can’t see you and I knew this would happen-”

“They’re not right,” Matthew growls, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, I love you more than anything else in this world and if you asked me to hang it up tomorrow I would. Except you wouldn’t, because this is special, and fuck what other people have to say about it.”

“Promise?” You whisper, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath, inhaling whatever scent was left of Matthew’s on his hoodie you were wearing.

“Yeah you’re stuck with me babe,” Matthew hums, smiling when he finally heard you let out a laugh on the other side of the phone, “I’m ordering you dinner, and go relax because you have a game tomorrow.”

“You have one too you know,” You muse, feeling lighter than you did when he called.

“First one to score wins?”

“Oh you’re on!”

“That’s my girl.”

#matthew tkachuk #blurbs #want you to want me blurbs #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte x (no longer canon)

NOTE: Chapters X and XI are not longer considered canon in Lavender Latte.

...

(M (for now!)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

|| series masterlist ||

word count: ~4.4k

beta’ed: @hawnks (thank u!!! 💗)

the softness after the storm

warnings: reference to the panic attacks/dissociation of the last few chapters, fragile reader, mostly fluff. so much fluff. nesting too.

...

hello <3 ll is alive and well to the point where... i made another mega chapter that i had to split, so here’s the first chunk! just lots of softness, hurt/comfort and fluff. both of u need it. we all need it right now. find some comfort if u can loves 💗

(psst-- thank you all for sticking around for this series, i adore you all with my whole heart!!!!!!)

||||||||||||||||||

After all of the noise and pain of the morning, Keigo and you stayed twisted in each other for a long time.

You both needed it, the softness and heat of the other.

You clung onto him, taking in big gulps of his smell and presence as he tethered you to earth purely by breathing and living.

You were precious to Keigo, more than anything.

As tender as the time together was, he couldn’t forget that what preceded it was not only traumatic but induced by trauma.

It worried him, to his core.

That protective flare quieted, somewhat, but never truly went away. Keeping you in his arms, whispering new ‘I love you’s and being able to comfort you certainly helped, but he knew he’d need to examine that part of himself more thoroughly.

It was new, strong, and ran deep.

His mental musings dissolved when you trembled particularly hard in his arms, his gut twisting.

He placed a few slow, kind kisses where he could reach, rubbing his fingers into the tension in the fat above your hips, “You’re okay, (Y/N), we’re safe.”

“A-are you sure?” You asked softly, again, trying to tug Keigo closer.

He nodded, nuzzling into your hair, “I promise.”

It worried him, how much reassurance you were asking for. He gave it freely, of course, as it was not only the truth, but feeling some of the tension drain from your body with his words felt good.

He knew you just needed to feel grounded.

“I love you,” You barely looked up at him, eyes shining.

His heart ached as he gently pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours.

It wasn’t a chaste kiss, something deeper, like those you had been sharing all day as you both unwound.

You grabbed at his face, stuttering breaths into his mouth as he gathered you up by your waist.

“I love you too, dove. So much,” Keigo spoke between kisses, hands dipping just below your waistband, only to massage at any tension he could find. “I’ve gotcha’.”

You stifle something like a sob, cuddling back into him, your light trembling somewhat dulled.

It felt good to say ‘love you’s to Keigo.

But, physically?

You felt like shit

Your hand and leg ached. The adrenaline lingered in your system, making your body shake out of your control and sleep impossible to reach, as exhausted as you were. That wasn’t even to mention the headache you had from crying for so long and the lack of food and caffeine in your body.

Keigo smoothed a hand over your back, setting it at the base of your skull, “How are you feeling?”

“Gross,” You mumbled, keeping your eyes shut and mentally blessing the darkness Keigo provided. “Sort of awful.”

“I can imagine,” Keigo squeezed your sides. “Do you want some water?”

“S-sure.”

Keigo immediately helped you sit up against your headboard, a fresh bottle of water pressed into your hand. You appreciated that it wasn’t glass, just an old plastic one you’d had hidden away in a cupboard.

You sipped greedily, the water feeling far too cold in your stomach. You frowned.

“I think I need to eat, even if I don’t feel like I need to,” You said quietly, folding your hands in your lap.

“Would you like me to help with that?” Keigo asked softly.

You nodded.

Keigo hummed again, something low and sweet that made your eyes go half-lidded as you leaned against him.

“How about this?” He tapped the top of the water bottle. “I’m still stuck in my hero uniform, so I can run home and grab a change of clothes, sleepover stuff, some food, and whatever else you need and then we camp out for the rest of the day?”

The thought of being able to nest with Keigo for the rest of the day was heavenly.

“You want to stay the night?” You asked, confirming, flickering your gaze up nervously.

Despite the dulling of it all, it was obvious you were still frayed.

It broke Keigo’s heart.

“Of course,” Keigo beamed you the best smile he could, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’ll hold you all night, keep you safe, dove, the whole bit.”

You didn’t reply, not verbally. All you could do was sag in his arms, nodding and pressing small kisses to his covered collar bones.

“Can you stay a little longer now?” You sniffled, curling around him. “Just a little.”

His chest ached with how fragile you sounded.

“However long you need, dove, promise,” Keigo pulled you close, into his lap and wrapped what he could of his wings and feathers around your shoulders.

...

Keigo departed an hour or so later, sometime near noon. He helped you into the living room, draping a blanket over your shoulders and putting the plushie into your arms.

He knelt in front of you, squeezing your hands, “I won’t be long, promise.”

You bit your lip, nodding.

“Can I ask something?”

“Anything, dove.”

“Can I have one of your feathers, while you’re gone?”

Keigo’s heart panged so hard in his chest, it felt like a bell toll vibrating to the tips of his fingers.

A few of his plumes fell into and around your lap, softened and rippling.

“Of course, dove, bare minimum,” He pressed a few kisses to your knuckles. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

You were already sinking into the cushions of the couch, eyes tired and wide, “Thank you, Keigo. I love you.

“I love you too, angel.”

He kissed your forehead before taking off from your balcony.

...

You were so tired.

Quickly, you fell onto the couch, eyes half-lidded, but your body was still too restless for sleep.

You felt like human vibration, sticky and wrong. As much as the anxiety of the earlier day had died down, you still shook with the physical and mental aftershocks of it all.

It made you that much more thankful that Keigo was staying.

You were self-aware enough to be coming to terms with that you needed a fucking therapist.

Not that that was a bad thing, but you felt a little dumb for not thinking about it sooner. As soothing as Keigo’s kindness was, you knew it wasn’t a cure. All the aches ran too deeply and personally for that.

The thought was shoved off, the lingers of the trauma-spiral making your brain spin again.

You winced, curling around the plushie and Keigo’s lingering feathers.

Still raw.

You shuddered, cursing that you still hadn’t stopped shaking, hadn’t stopped flinching—

It’s not that easy, you reminded yourself.

You made a mental note to thank Keigo profusely for dealing with you in such a fragile state.

Keigo had flown back to his penthouse, shucking off his uniform in favor of a pair of joggers and a loose, cropped sweater. His wings stretched up and out from the specially-made slits, still sparse from the day prior. Notably, taking a day off was probably a good thing for himself. He could still feel the aches of his own exhaustion, worse than its normal perpetual throb, from his recent healing.

As he gathered his things around the penthouse, he was acutely aware of you and your physical state from the feathers he left behind. Considering he was practically on the other side of the city, the sensations were fairly dull, but undeniably there.

The flutter of your heart and the shaking of your body were unmistakable and unavoidable.

Keigo remained on edge, jaw set. There was a constant flood of newly unsuppressed feelings around you that he genuinely didn’t know what to fucking do with.

Mainly, the big, lurking need to protect you.

It wasn’t like his instinct to fix up the world and save civilians with a smile on his face. All of that was different, ultimately rooted in his primary goal of allowing himself rest—

No, around you, it was the deep, carnal need to keep you safe.

Hence why the shuddering of your limbs against the faraway feathers was so hard to ignore.

Despite how much Keigo wanted to call you, check-in despite the fact he’d been gone for maybe twenty, he took a moment to collect himself.

Carefully, Keigo took some pointed breaths, wings and shoulders sagging.

He could only do so much.

He knew enough about hurt and pain to understand that he couldn’t stitch you up, no, that was a terrible idea. Sometimes you just had to hurt before you could feel better.

Keigo made a mental point to stay with you through it all, to try and support and comfort you where he could, like he had been.

It satisfied enough of that instinct that he could’ve purred.

He grabbed his phone, sending off a text before flying from his balcony once more.

[birdboy <3]: hey angel ;^) i’m gonna pick u up some surprises

[birdboy <3]: good stuff

[birdboy <3]: i’ll be back very soon

[birdboy <3]: love u!! <3!!

You smiled at the texts, taking a shaking breath and burrowing deeper. You sent off your own I love you, antsy with your lack of him. Ultimately, you wanted Keigo to be back soon, but being alone for a little while was probably good.

It allowed you some precious moments of self-soothing.

You were fine, you reminded yourself. Nothing in your apartment was harmful. You were safe, despite the adrenaline and remnants of fear.

Now was the time for rest.

You pushed off the couch, grabbing your crutches and started to make a plan.

It wasn’t a difficult one, mainly scrutinizing the layout of your bedroom in conjunction to the size of your TV.

Making your way to the kitchen was difficult, some fear still boiling in you as you approached.

You sighed in relief when you noticed the spotless sink and counters.

Keigo must’ve cleaned up.

You reminded yourself aloud to thank him later.

Shuffling to a nook in the counter, you grabbed a small metal tin, two mugs, and two tea strainers. The tea blend you’d grabbed was one you’d been reaching for often enough that you’d started to just keep it at an arm's reach.

You popped the lid, sucking down the floral fragrance with a sigh.

Shaky as you were, you could do this much.

You gave yourself a little smile and got to work.

Keigo was busy as well, dashing around town to gather what he could.

He didn’t tend to... shop. Most of those needs were met with delivery services and online ordering as it tended to be so much easier than being the number two pro hero out in public and trying to be ‘casual’ with two massive pairs of red wings.

It was slightly better, consider how they were still plucked from the day prior.

He flew from store to store, trying his best to be quick at dodging his fans, repeating that he was having a ‘self-care day’ in the wake of getting so beat up.

It wasn’t really a lie.

His final stop, feathers towing a few bags behind him, was picking up one of your comfort foods, a smile growing on his face.

Keigo knew that all he was doing wouldn’t make you feel better in the way that a few fragments of him wanted it to. Part of him wanted to save you—

But that’s not how people work.

And he knew that.

Instead, he’d just be there.

That felt far better than agonizing about wounds too deep for even you, their bearer, to fully perceive.

Keigo shook his head as he neared your apartment once more, your sounds and movements becoming stronger against the feathers he’d left behind.

You jumped at the clear ‘thump’ echoing from your balcony, but were quickly soothed as the door slid open, revealing a soft-smiling Keigo.

He was on you in an instant.

Carefully, notably.

He was falling onto the couch next to you, a bundle of feathers resituating themselves to his wings as he tugged you into his arms.

Keigo winded his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as he could manage while peppering little kisses on your cheeks.

As saturated and sticky as your mind was, his firm touch and the feather-light brushing of his lips made your body thrum in a pleasant way. His contact was soothing the fresh burns and you let it.

“I missed you.”

It was a mutual sentiment.

He squeezed you, tight, a broad wing wrapping around you both.

“What did you end up doing?” You asked, voice soft and filled with a lingering weakness.

Keigo directed you with a glance to the several bags stacked by the door.

“I used a bit of my hero’s paycheck to treat you, a little extra comfort,” Keigo hummed, nosing into your hair.

“You didn’t have to—”

Keigo quieted you with a quick kiss, a hand dipping under your shirt to smooth up your spine.

“Hush, let me spoil you,” His lips quirked up as he spoke. “You deserve it, you know. Not to mention, I’m more than able to.”

He wasn’t wrong.

You’d subconsciously shoved down the thought, avoiding ogling at Keigo’s obvious wealth. He had to be loaded, money wouldn’t be an issue.

You thought for a moment, turning over the idea as your anxiety stirred, the ambient quaking of your body picking up.

“Today has sucked.”

Part of you felt guilt, overwhelmingly.

Keigo had done so much for you already, physically and emotionally.

It was a short-lived feeling as you met his gaze.

It made you feel so damn precious.

You’d seen Keigo smile for photos and on billboards, but it was nothing like the ones he gave you. His expression was all that warmth and honey that you loved about him, delivered through the melted-cores of his eyes.

And it clicked.

You said nothing, knowing that the conversation and implication of it all made your heart swell so much, it ached.

“Okay, just this once, okay? And you gotta let me treat you to some tea,” You managed a little smile, something small and sacred that made Keigo’s heart swell.

Keigo followed you into the kitchen, shuffling to meet your slow pace. Each of your movements was clearly labored, but you didn’t seem as perturbed as he would've thought.

You hit a button on the electric kettle, fiddling with the stem of the pre-prepared mugs. They already had small, metal balls made of mesh, filled with what leaves and flowers. Set nearby was a carton of oat milk and a jar of honey with a homemade label.

Keigo blinked.

“Did... you put this all together while I was gone?”

“I did,” You nodded easily, eyes drifting to the bubbling of the kettle. “It’s the least I could do, you know?”

Keigo’s gut went into knots, a mix of things that were hard to parse through. Mostly, it was that chest tightening mix of worry and syrupy adoration that he wanted to drown in.

Carefully, yet firmly as he could, he tugged your close by the waist, burying his nose in your hair, “You’re too good.”

“Says you,” You reminded him. “You’re the one who’s been doing the heavy lifting today, birdboy.”

Keigo gently scoffed against your crown, “‘Heavy lifting’? Bare minimum, as far as I know. I like being here and helping you, you know.”

You paused.

“You... do?”

Your words were punctuated by the click of the kettle turning off, the bubble of boiling water slowly dying off.

“Of course,” Keigo replied after a moment of quiet, keeping himself soft. “Is that a... bad thing?”

You reminded yourself that he was new to all of this

“N-no, not at all,” You pressed into him, tighter, closer, ignoring the idle kettle in favor of giving Keigo some much-needed comfort. “It feels nice.”

Some of the tension drained from Keigo as his wings shifted behind him.

“Good,” He dropped yet another kiss into your hair. “It... feels nice. Knowing you’re safe.”

“S-Same,” You stuttered, frowning into Keigo’s chest. “Are you alright, Keigo?”

Your words startled him into silence for a moment.

“I’m not bad if that’s what you’re asking— “

“Deflecting again, are we?”

You managed him a cheeky smile, pulling back to nudge your nose into the stubble at his chin.

“I’m... really grateful you were here today, and are gonna be here,” You squeezed him tighter, hands resting at the base of his wings. “But, you’ve had a pretty tough last twenty-four hours too, you know?”

You weren’t wrong.

“It’s a part of the job, I’ll be alright,” Keigo tried to shush you, but you weren’t having any of it.

You cupped his cheeks in your palms, giving him a little frown, “Keigo, I love you.”

The new words got his heart stuttering in his chest.

“I’m kind of fucked up right now, but I’m still here, okay? For whatever you need.” You reminded him, gracing him with a chaste kiss as punctuation.

Part of Keigo wanted to tug you closer, slip his hands under your shirt and express how much he loved you, but he knew better.

There needed to be a moment of reprieve.

“Thank you, dove,” Keigo wasn’t sure how to fully accept your kindness, but with the smell of earthy flowers wafting and your small smile shining all for him, he was excited to try.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

The rest of the day was a testament to softness.

Keigo had some avian instincts, sure, but the Commission taught him long ago how to suppress the more bothersome traits. One that he had never been able to shake too well was the need to stay bundled up and warm—

Nesting, as it was labeled.

And you were all for it.

Keigo adjusted the TV on top of your cleared-off desk, tilting it so it was perfectly viewable from the bed.

You were half-on your knees, booted foot extended while digging through the bags of softness Keigo had brought.

“These are so fucking good, Keigo!” You held one of the fluffy blankets to your chest before unfurling it. “Absolutely wonderful choices, I have to admit.”

“Happy to please, angel. I grabbed the comfiest ones I could find,” Keigo chuckled, mostly to himself.

He wasn’t the most adept at finding comfort, but he knew a fair amount about surrounding yourself with softness (something he’d been indulging more thoroughly in his private time, after meeting you, of course.)

Something stirred in his chest as he watched you prop up pillows and arrange blankets over your mattress. With it up against the wall, you were able to create a little... nest of sorts.

Keigo’s’ dick twitched.

Calm down, it’s only a little bit cute—

You clamored to the edge of your bed, outstretching a hand with a warm smile, “Come on, tailfeathers, I need your body heat.”

“That all?” Keigo’s chest filled with molten heat as he let you tug him down into the softness you’d made. “Just need me for warmth?”

You hummed, pulling at his forearm to topple him over your lap, “Nah, plenty more. Want me to tell you about it?”

His dick twitched again.

Keigo mused on it, only for a moment.

“As much as I’d love to hear your reasons,” Keigo braced his arms on either side of your head, ducking to whisper in your ear. “I think you need to rest, hm?”

It was your bloodshot eyes, shaking hands, and tired smile that gave you away. Though it was obvious you were in better spirits, exhausted radiated off of you, even if you managed to banter.

You didn’t put up any fight, only nuzzling into his cheek and trailing your lips near his own, “Maybe you’re right.”

“Just ‘maybe’?” Keigo teased, bearing more of his body weight down onto you.

You didn’t reply verbally, just tugged him down by the waistband of his joggers.

“It’s okay,” Keigo said softly, maybe the softest he’d ever spoken, “we’ll just rest.”

“Can you put on something for background noise?”

“Of course, dove,” Keigo smothered you with kisses, littering your forehead and nose with affections wherever he could reach.

As you situated yourself, Keigo now the one repositioning the fluffing and blankets around your bed, his mind wandered.

The amount of vulnerability he showed you was scary, it had been since the beginning. All those subtle glances and remarks that went from weightless flirting to all-out love were new and terrifying.

Yet, Keigo craved it to the point of aching.

As you sipped your tea, nestled between his legs with your back against his chest, that ambient pain was dulled.

Keigo rested his head against your shoulder, nosing below your ear, “How are you feeling?”

“Sleepy, now, less shaky,” You replied following a heavy, audible gulp.

It was true, your body had mostly stilled its ambient trembling.

He couldn’t imagine how tired you were.

He also was having trouble acknowledging how tired he was.

Keigo reached to take a sip of his own tea, the smoothness of the honey, oat milk and lavender washing down the back of his throat. The softness of the drink itself was pushing him closer to acknowledging his own exhaustion.

(That was, of course, part of the reason you prepared such a tea, but you kept yourself smitten with your solely known knowledge.)

“Can we try napping again?” You asked, pulling him from your thoughts. The heat of your pressed back into him as you nuzzled the side of his face.

“Of course.”

And so, you nested.

The mugs were set aside, the steam tapering off but still filling the room with aromatics. The lights twinkled dimly, the curtains drawn to keep the afternoon light extinguished. The TV glowed in the corner, moved from your living room to on top of your desk, something ambient and meaningless running to fill the quiet air.

And you held Keigo with all you had.

It took a bit of maneuvering, pillows and plushies being pushed and shoved. Maybe, on a different day, you would’ve been a little self-conscious about all of the softness you were shamelessly surrounding yourself with.

But, that day? You couldn’t care.

As the shakes subsided, your body craved only rest. Keigo offered it up without and second thought, and you drank it in, him in, greedily.

You faced each other, held in the arms of the other, Keigo’s feathers having spread themselves across the ‘nest’ and floor to allow him to accommodate the space a bit better.

Your face was buried in his chest, your hands already snaked under his cropped crew neck and resting below his wings. Every so often, your touch would brush close enough to the base to make him shudder.

You loved how it felt, how he felt next to you.

That was the only real thought you could conjure up in the perfect mess of blankets and softness.

Sleep took you easily after that.

Keigo managed to stay awake a bit longer, thoughts restless but slowing.

He felt a new sort of sated, now that he was curled up with you.

The two of you had cuddled plenty in weeks prior, but nothing that was quite this cozy. With his feathers scattered about the room and nest, blankets pulled up to your chin, for the first time in a long while, he felt truly at peace.

Mostly.

As tired as he was, his mind wandered as he idly stroked along the bare skin of your neck and collar.

He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about your state just hours ago, eyes uncomfortably full, yet vacant in the same moment.

Keigo knew how you felt.

He knew how these sorts of things worked. The way the mind functioned in vulnerable states (and how to exploit them) was something branded into his mind. In the silence of his penthouse, Keigo was smart enough to put together that this was the reason he’d been able to be there for you in the way that he had been.

It was disturbing, thinking about the origin of his ability to comfort you. His roots being in his need to manipulate rather than comfort.

Part of him felt sick with the thought, feathers ruffling and puffing up around the room.

The things he’d been taught and the way they’d been etched into the marble tablet of psyche weren’t good. Even if he valued the skills he’d gained, he had garnered enough agency at some point to put together how the corruption of the Commission infected him.

The thought made him feel dirty, which was why he pushed it back and away so often.

But, now, thinking about the way you shuddered and wailed in his arms, he couldn’t avoid it, an odd poison spreading through his chest.

“Hey,” Your voice slurred with sleep as your hands twitched at his sides. “You’re thinkin’ too hard.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Your heart, silly,” The sound of it was loud in your ears, the thrum far too quick to be calm. “Sounds fast.”

“Caught me,” Keigo gave a weak laugh, smothered into your hair with kisses. “I’m alright. Get some sleep, I’ll be right here.”

“Nuh-uh,” You forced yourself to full wakefulness with a few unpleasant blinks.

You cupped his jaw and searched his face.

...

Keigo was far too good at hiding how he felt.

From his painfully cleansed expression, it was hard to tell what exactly he was really feeling, only that he wasn’t expressing whatever it was.

“Keigo,” You breathed his name. “You deserve to rest. All you gotta do is be here, right now, okay?

Your tired mind was one of its most honest iterations.

Weren’t you right?

“I’m here, always, Keigo.”

“I know,” Keigo sighed with relief, softening against you.

There was so much he couldn’t tell you, especially not yet. Too much knotted up and tied with himself that was too fragile, secret, or buried to be even acknowledged by himself, let alone you.

Not to mention, the Commission and the public had no idea you were a part of his life, and you intended to keep it that way, at least for a while.

Keigo opened his mouth to let loose one last quip, but quickly silenced himself.

You’d already fallen back asleep, maybe even more relaxed, clinging to him with everything you had.

He had always believed he would never let sentiment get his way.

Even the word ‘sentiment’ felt dirty rolling around in his mind.

You weren’t just ‘sentiment’, you were love.

And he loves you.

Keigo drifted off with his warmth and comfort knotted up with your own, relaxing, truly for the first time in a long time.

+++++

💗ko-fi 💗

++++

taglist:

taglist (please send me an ask if you’d like to be added!): @thepandapopo @hawksexual @sinclairsamess @darcia22 @inhalingsoysauce @yee-fxcking-haw @aproperthottie @seasalttrioforever @mia--merc @call-me-rhee @peach-buns-unicorns @amethyst-rose-17 @mega-bastard @an-untamed-rose @ravioliplease @keigosangel @gobestupidsomewhereelse @themusingsofmany @mariiloei @hecatve @assassinslittlesister @thepuckishrogue

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #salem writes #hawks #takami keigo #my hero academia #mha x reader #hawks imagines #hawks x you #hawks reader insert #lavender latte

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nazyalenskyism · 3 years

Text

Unusual Encounters

A/N: This fic is for the GVBB's mini bang @grishaversebigbang! We're so excited that we get to finally share our works with with you! @sketcherooroo ‘s fantastic art for this fic can be found here, and @art-by-me19 ‘s fantastic art for this fic can be found here!

Summary: With impossible stakes on the line for both the Ravkans and the Crows, the last quiet moments before the chaotic auction provide a brief opportunity for peace.

Ao3: Unusual Encounters

“You don’t trust them,” Inej’s voice whispered in his ear. She had quietly found her way to his shoulder, as she always had but something was different now. Ever since he’d caught her eye at the Slat, when she’d nearly leapt down to avenge him in what she’d thought were his final moments, he could sense that she saw through him, truly saw him. It was a feeling he had avoided, when his Crows tried to get to know him, or other bosses tried to figure him out, he’d evaded their attempts as easily as he slipped out of handcuffs. But Inej was different, she always had been. Even when he had guarded himself from her, she had always been able to find a way to understand him. It was an unspoken part of the pact they shared.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

He could feel her gaze on him without turning to confirm it, the dark brown of her eyes posing a question, maybe a challenge, don’t you? And she was right, didn’t he trust her? He had trusted her with his secrets for years, as much as he hated to think that he had let anyone know any part more of him than the lies he’d built around himself, he trusted Inej, and that was the truth. Fortunately for him, he was not virtuous or honorable like his Wraith and therefore he had no issue with lying, it was what thieves and conmen did, and he felt no shame in that. He ignored the look. “I don’t need to trust them. They care about their country, they were desperate enough to come make a deal with a thief from the Barrel because they have no other choice. They need Kuwei to save the Grisha, and they will pay any price for that. The idea that they could let him slip from their fingers is so unfathomable that I don’t need to trust them. Their position makes them predictable.”

Kaz flipped his pen between his fingers, allowing himself a moment to contemplate. He believed that what he had told Inej was the truth, but there was something about the Ravkans that made him want to hesitate. He had never played games alongside Kings before, and while he’d heard much about the incompetence of the Fjerdan king and the old Ravkan King, there were fewer whispers about the current king than there were shouting remarks. People in Little Ravka had hung banners for the new king, singing about the Boy King, the King of Scars, who had supposedly been taken prisoner and tortured by the Darkling. Kaz didn’t care about Ravkan politics, but in his business, secrets and knowing your surroundings were key, and there was something to be said of a man who had been king for years, yet had managed to keep any rumors from finding their way down into Inej’s hands, and then Kaz’s. Perhaps there was even more to the royal than Kaz had let himself see. He would have to keep note of that, no good came from underestimating your allies and enemies.

“You like him,” Inej mused, following his line of sight to the boy king turned pirate, “why?” “I don’t like anyone, Wraith.”

“You like Jes,” Inej countered, “you like Wylan and Nina, maybe even Kuwei and Matthias, and you like--” she broke off, turning away from him. Kaz desperately wanted to reach out and say, what, exactly? That he did like her, that it was more than like, that he valued her beyond her talents. That he appreciated her strength, her light, the magic she brought into his world that he had long since dreamt was impossible to conjure? But they didn’t have time for that, and she did not want to hear those words from him.

“Would you trust a pirate?”

“He’s a privateer Kaz, authorized by the Ravkan king to be here, accompanied with the highest ranking Grisha in the world.”

“You didn’t answer the question,” he rasped, amusement pulling at him.

“If I’ve learned anything from you, it’s to never trust anyone, so no,” she relented, hand brushing over her knives, and he knew she must be asking the Saints to spare them a betrayal. Kaz knew that if they did face a betrayal, he would put money on his crew to come out on top any day. ***

“Look at them,” Zoya hissed from over his shoulder. They were mulling over the plan they had concocted for the auction the following day, hunched over a desk in the corner of the room.

“Who, Nazyalensky?” “Nina, her Fjerdan, the Wraith, the Barrel rat, the Grisha and the merchant boy, the whole lot of reprobates.”

“So, everyone?” Nikolai muttered, amending the papers before him, the inner workings of Mister Brekker’s mind laid out before him. The plan was clever, but to someone who had built their life upon being clever, he could tell there were obvious omissions, Brekker was clearly up to something more than what he’d written down, but Nikolai would expect nothing less from the boy who’d orchestrated a heist into the Ice Court. “You should be more worried,” she huffed, snatching the pen from his hand to scribble something down, “they’re not trustworthy.”

“I don’t trust them, Nazyalensky. We’re simply allied towards a common goal.”

“Allies don’t trust one another?”

“I believe they’ll keep their side of the deal because they want their money, and they want Kuwei to make it out of Kerch alive. We are useful to them for that reason, so they won’t break the deal.”

“So our plans hinge on the wants of a group of children?”

“You were about their age during the civil war,” Nikolai said, “besides, I thought you would be elated that she’s alive,” he hummed, thinking back to how devastated Zoya had been when she’d come back from the mission where Nina went missing. She’d spent weeks searching for the girl, and it was only an order from him that had brought her back from searching the oceans for that Drüskelle ship, and though she’d never said it, Nikolai knew she had resented him for it. “She’s being reckless! A Fjerdan— not to mention a Drüskelle? What is she thinking?”

“That she loves him.” In the corner of the room, Nina sat with her legs splayed out over the boy-- Matthias’ lap as she indulged in a plate of waffles, heaping with whipped cream and strawberries. The Fjerdan simply smiled as Nina rambled on about the exact viscosity required for syrup to best enhance the waffle-eating experience, the smile transforming into reddening cheeks and an abashed look when she dalloped cream onto his nose.

Zoya huffed, looking away from the pair, “love is for fools.”

Nikolai cut her a glance, “ruthless as always, Commander. They found each other and despite all circumstances managed to fall in love. That’s the stuff stories are made of.”

“You need to cut down on the novels, you’re too much of a romantic already. I fear for your future bride.” “Not marriage talk again, Nazyalensky. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to get rid of me.” “Clearly I’m failing,” Zoya muttered as Brekker motioned for everyone to gather round to discuss the plan. “If I had been successful, you’d be bobbing for herring in a canal.”

Brekker raised a gloved finger causing his gang to quiet like a group of children falling in line before their governess. Interesting. Not only was the thief an expert in disguise and evading attention, but commanding it was another skill entirely. Nikolai wondered what scars the boy bore, to don gloves like Nikolai’s own. What horrors caused a 17 year old to rise to being the most notorious Barrel Boss in Ketterdam, after years of climbing up the ladder and making a monstrous name for himself?

“Everyone out except the Grisha and the Pirate.”

“Did you hear that, Nazyalensky,” Nikolai muttered under his breath as the others began to protest, “‘the Grisha and the Pirate. Sounds like a rousing title for a play, though I do prefer ‘The World’s Handsomest, Most Skilled Privateer, and the Grisha.”

“I prefer, “The Pirate Who Finally Shut up Because the Grisha Ripped Out His tongue.”

“Privateer,” he corrected, returning her glare with a wink. “Such vivid imagery, Commander, have you ever considered becoming a playwright?” “Perhaps I’ll pursue that avenue once this plan goes to hell and our country falls because of it. I’m sure it pays better.”

Nikolai laughed, their attention turning back to the gang as Brekker held up a hand again, “we will discuss the final plan once the details have been agreed upon and the Ravkans are back at their embassy.”

The tall Zemeni boy-- Jesper, halted on his way out of the room, peering back around the door, “what about the airship?”

“What?” Kaz’s voice was irritable, or perhaps that’s how it always sounded. Then again, Nikolai thought as he caught Brekker’s eyes drifting towards the girl perched on the open window sill behind him, sunlight glinting against her plait, firing a similar light behind his eyes, maybe not always. “Perhaps if you visit Ravka, you’ll get a chance then,” Nikolai replied coyly, winking at the boy. “Yes,” Zoya added, as he let out a laugh, turning around to leave, “you’ll find that doors in Ravka are always open to those wanting to seek entry.”

“What was that?” Nikolai muttered as the others followed the boy out, “that was so cryptic that I barely put it together.”

“How else was I supposed to allude to it, Sturmhond? I can’t very well say, ‘you’re a Grisha, you should come to train at the Little Palace right this instant?’ You’re the brains, I’m the muscle.” “Why, Zoya, did you just call me smart?”

“You’re as smart as I am pleasant,” she retorted, moving towards the table Brekker and the Wraith were at. “Fortunately for me, I find your company to be nothing short of intoxicating, Nazyalensky.”

She rolled her eyes as they sat down across from Brekker and the girl named Inej, Nikolai spreading their plans out next to Kaz’s.

“So,” he said, letting the voice of authority slip him as easily as he slipped into his teal frock coat, “where do we begin?”

#gvbb21 #gvbbminibang21 #gang 15 #exp. gang 21 #kanej #zoyalai #zoyalai fic #kanej fic #soc #tgt #kos #soc fic #Kaz Brekker #inej ghafa #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #jesper fahey #nina zenik #grishaverse

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mrsgiovanna · 4 years

Text

A series of Firsts - Don Giorno x Fem! Reader

A cute Valentines day scenario with husband Giogio, nsfw-ish toward the end, just something that's been on my mind for a little while. Cut for length🥺💭❤️

Word count: 2318

Everything that could have gone wrong had inevitably gone wrong. It was the first Valentines day that you and your beloved would be spending together as a married couple, so needless to say, you wanted to make it a tiny bit more noteworthy than the usual extravagant outings you’ve grown accustomed to. You knew that things like this weren’t really important, but blamed your sentimental self for wanting to commemorate each “first” event in your first year of wedded life. As luck would have it though, every single one of your plans would be foiled, however, in retrospect, your end goal would actually be achieved.

There was still a chill in the February air, but it was a beautiful sunny day nonetheless. Giorno had already left by the time your sleep had broken, but you had woken up to a beautiful red rose and a small heart shaped chocolate on his pillow with a simple note in his handwriting. You smiled when you read the note, three simple words, but it meant more to you than anything. You lazed about in bed for a while, thinking about all the things you wanted to do today. The villa was quiet, save for the few guards that Giorno would not compromise on, you had given most of his other staff the weekend off, wanting it to just be the two of you. Or so you’d thought…

The spanner foiling this plan, came in the form of some important conference call with an associate from the Speedwagon foundation. Well, calling him an “associate” might be a bit cold, seeing that it was Giorno’s relative, Jotaro Kujo, who wanted to speak to him himself. Giorno knew it must have been something very important for Jotaro to reach out to him of all people given the circumstances and how suspicious he was in the beginning. So off he went, you presumed to his study, to discuss whatever issue was plaguing Jotaro. Deciding it was time to get out of bed, you quickly showered and threw on something comfortable, knowing you were going to put on a knock out outfit later on. No sooner had you stepped out of the master bedroom did you hear a loud bang, and felt something whizzing past you, missing your face by a hair’s breath. Being immediately on guard, you summoned your stand ready to attack the enemy that had infiltrated your home when you heard the familiar whining of Mista’s sex pistols…

“Mistaaaaa, he’s not here, can we go eat now?”

“Well good morning to you too number 5,” you said to the miniscule stand, who started to hide himself in your hair to escape the harassment from number 3.

“Awww has Mista has been starving you guys again? How awful, lets go find you guys something to eat,” you teased, earning an annoyed look from the gunslinger, to which he retorted, “Excuse me, they’re well fed and have nothing to complain about!”

As you both made your way to the kitchen, you asked Mista what brought him to the villa this early in the morning. You were hoping against your better judgment that it wasn’t anything too serious, but by the time Mista was done relaying his report about the unrest in some of the outlying areas, you knew it had to be nipped in the bud before it gained momentum. Wanting to feed the tiny gremlins, but being unsure of what they would eat in the morning, you set up some cured meats, fruits, nuts and some warmed cornetto on a platter.

The delicious smell of warm, buttery pastry had whet your appetite as well, so you decided to warm up more pastries for you and Mista and started making cappuccinos for the both of you. By this point you and Mista had been around each other for long enough and had been through so much together, that the bond felt more familial than anything else.

Setting down the food in front of you and Mista, the facts of his report were still playing on your mind.

“So where is Giorno anyway? I thought he’d taken some time off, which is why I came straight here,” asked Mista as he bit off a piece of his strawberry preserve filled croissant.

“He’s in the middle of an important conference call, he might be a while… what do you think about what’s happening in in the new territories? Do you think we can handle the situation among ourselves?”

Perplexed by your question, Mista thought for a while before answering. “I suppose they aren’t the strongest stand users, between you, Fugo and myself, we should be able to take them out if the need arises… listen, I don’t like where you’re going with this,”

It was all the confirmation you needed as you spoke with determination, “Let’s go then, if we can end this before it has a chance to blow up then we should do it. Call Fugo, I’m sure he’ll be willing to go with us, I’ll text Gio to let him know.” It was the first time you’d taken a bold decision like that without so much as consulting with Giorno… and just like that, you had thrown the second spanner in the works without even knowing it, because what should have taken a couple of hours had ended up taking the better part of the day.

“I wonder…. where could she be… ” mused Giorno as he walked around the villa looking for you. The conference call had taken longer than expected so he sought you out to make it up to you, but you were nowhere to be found. Deciding to call you, he’d come across the text message you’d sent him just before you left. His eyes darkened as he tried to call you.

“Oh hi Gio, are you okay? We’re kinda in the middle of something here,” you answered, trying to sound unfazed despite the ruckus taking place behind you.

“Cara, how can you just rush off into a dangerous situation like this? I’m very upset with you, come back here immediately,”

You felt very guilty when he still addressed you with his usual kindness despite how angry he sounded.

“Gio, I’m so sorry, I’ll explain everything when we get back, it will be over soon I promise,” you say, trying to placate both his temper and your own feelings.

“You guys have an hour to come back, failing which, I’ll have to come there myself. Honestly, you’re lucky I love you as much as I do, amore…” with that Giorno ended the call and went back to his study, hoping that you guys would be okay.

Upon arriving at Giorno’s study, you found him to be the picture of serenity, quietly working at his desk with some soft music playing in the background. He was relieved to see that you three delinquents were okay, most of all, you- his wife, who unfortunately was the biggest troublemaker of the lot, however he didn’t let that relief show on his face…

Just as Mista was about to speak, Giorno raised his hand to silence him,

“Did everything work out as expected in your marvelous misadventure?”

“you could say so… the job is done”

“is anyone hurt?”

“no, everyone’s alright,”

“then go home, it’s been a long day,” sensing everyone’s surprise, Giorno explained himself further.

“I trust you all, I want to make that clear… but for God’s sake, at least 1 person needs to be the voice of reason, nonetheless, I’m glad everything worked out for the best, just think before wildly rushing out next time,”

Mista and Fugo left the office leaving you alone with Giorno. You waited to hear the little electronic beep that the door made when it locked before you gently lowered yourself into Giorno’s strong arms, settling down comfortably in his lap.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you tesoro… you have so much to do, I just wanted to share some of the burden with you,”

“I know bella, I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier, I was just worried, I’d like to keep you away from these things as much as possible,”

“I can hold my own, you know,”

“I know bella, but you shouldn’t have to,” replied Giorno, lazily weaving his fingers through your hair. He drew your head closer for a kiss, starting off gentle, growing ever more passionate until you both stopped yourselves.

“Come amore mio, there isn’t a lot of time left, you have to get ready for our date, remember?”

Reluctantly, you got off his lap and left him with a feather light kiss to his temple.

After a long while of titivating with your look, you made your way back to Giorno’s study, finding him dreamily admiring the final seconds of the winter sunset. The fading golden light made his hair shine like spun gold and drew out the various jeweled specks of his eyes. He turns towards you, and his expression changes entirely, as if time itself had stood still.

“What do you think?” you ask, doing a little twirl and ending off in a pose, you giggle at your gesture.

“Sei cosi bella, you’re absolutely breathtaking amore mio,” Giorno says as he extends his arm to you, “are you ready to go?”

You smile sweetly and link your arm through his, just as you’re about to leave, the electricity cuts out.

No matter, you both wait patiently, expecting the generator to kick in at any moment, but nothing happens. Giorno’s study is more akin to a bunker, an impenetrable fortress built with the intention of keeping you both safe if the need ever arose. Grabbing his cellphone, Giorno calls one of the guards and asks him to check out the problem, as you are effectively stuck until you can get electricity back into the mechanism of the door.

You tinkered around the draws and cupboards, and managed to find all the aromatherapy candles and burners you got your husband to help him relax, you would have been annoyed that they were buried away if you weren’t as relieved as you were. It was quickly getting dark, and without the twinkling lights of the skyline, the room was becoming evermore difficult to navigate. After lighting up a considerable amount of the candles, you had to admit that the atmosphere was quite romantic.

“Well, they’ve found the problem, but can’t say how long it will take to fix, I could always try to use GE to break us out,”

“Break us out and do what my love? It looks like whole city is out, we’re probably in the safest place there is, come on, relax, we’ll just wait it out,” you reply as you pull him over to the couch. “see, this is nice right?” you say as you take your usual spot in his arms.

“Of course cara, I’m sorry, you’ve been patient with me recently, I know I’ve been very busy, so I just wanted to spoil you a bit,” Giorno’s voice was so gentle as he spoke, his fingers tracing circles onto your arm.

You were relieved as you felt him relax under your embrace, “for what it’s worth, happy Valentines day tesoro, I know things didn’t go according to anyone’s plan, but I’m still happy right here,” you utter, burying your face into the crook of Giorno’s neck.

“Happy Valentine’s day Amore mio, at least we’ll never forget this, and besides we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

The temperature started to drop the later it got, so Giorno decided to make use of his fireplace to make sure you didn’t get too cold, your slinky little evening dress offered little protection from the cold, not that he was complaining, it just meant that you would snuggle up closer to him. A yearning stirred in him when he looked back at you, bundled up in his large coat on the couch, you just looked so beautiful, the candlelight danced about in your eyes and your smile was the purest he’d ever seen.

“Are you okay bella? The room should warm up in a few moments. Ah, I know what would speed up the process… I recently acquired a very impressive bottle of wine…” mused Giorno as he found the bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet.

“Gio, isn’t that an insanely expensive bottle?”

“I’d hope so, it’s the 1992 vintage, imagine, we were just kids when this was made” he quipped, genuinely excited to crack open the extravagant alcohol.

“I thought you’d save something like that for a huge milestone like the birth of our first child or something of that magnitude. I just know how pricey it is,”

“Ah the birth of our child… conception of our child, it’s all the same”

Perplexed you asked, “caro, what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying bella, is that we’re freezing, the night is young and all we have for entertainment is each other’s wonderful company, whatever happens from here on out is up to the gods of fate, salute,”

And with a clink of your glasses and a gaze into each other’s eyes, you both took a sip of the wine. There was something irresistible about the way Giorno’s eyes glinted in the soft lighting. With a confident smirk, he drew you in for a passionate kiss, giving his hands permission to explore your beautiful body, drawing out those pretty sounds and lustful expressions that only he had the privilege of observing. Giorno was an intuitive lover, and you completely surrendered yourself to him. You both spent the rest of the night reveling in each other’s beauty and affection.

With arms and legs intertwined lovingly, breathing even and peaceful, you both slept blissfully unaware of the plans the mischievous gods of fate had in store for you.

#giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #jjba x reader #giorno giovanna #don giovanna #don giorno #giorno #jjba #vento aureo #golden wind #valentines day #jojo's bizarre adventure #giogio #my writing #jjba giorno #jjba fluff #jjba vento aureo #n/sfw

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ohpleaselarry · 3 years

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Annual Writing Self Evaluation 2021

Thank you to @brightgolden and @twopoppies for tagging me! Loved reading yours, this is so fun :)

1.Number of stories posted to ao3: nine! (Would’ve been ten if I’d have finished editing my upcoming one twelve hours ago haha)

2.Word count posted for the year: 314,760 honestly more than I thought

3.Fandoms I wrote for: one direction

4.Pairings: Larry

5.Story with the most kudos, comments, bookmarks: Violent Delights won all three!

More questions below ⬇️

6.Work I’m most proud of (and why): honestly this would’ve been violent delights a few months ago but the drabble series has been the most challenging (and therefore most rewarding) thing to work on. I’m pushing myself with every chapter to try something new and upload it in a timely manner and it’s unlike anything else I’ve done this year.

7.Work I’m least proud of (and why): Just in terms of writing and characterisation and work put in, slip into your arms was the only one this year that I didn’t “try” that much on, but people seem to enjoy it anyway which is lovely haha. (Maybe it’s just the lack of angst that made it feel simpler lol)

8.Share or describe a favourite review you received: honestly it doesn’t matter whether the review is bad or good, long or short, it always genuinely makes me inspired to read comments and keeps me writing. But since I hate to give a non answer: comments that quote parts of the fic and give their reactions/thoughts to those parts bit by bit really make me happy.

9.A time when writing was really, really hard: I can’t think of a time in my life when writing isn’t hard but there was a gap between fics from February to July when I couldn’t do much of anything. It was a really bad time for me mentally but I came back with my biggest fic of the year so maybe the break was a good thing?

10.A scene or character that you wrote that surprised you: Harry’s whole character in imagines just sailing (away, away). I wasn’t even planning on writing this fic but the song just tossed me right into it. The Italy hotel scene with the costume was something inspired by a friend’s own experience and them letting me add it was very unexpected, but finishing this one felt important to me.

11.A favourite excerpt of your writing: (I’ll try to keep this as minimally spoiling as possible) the Jupiter chapter in the drabble series, there’s a scene near the end when they’re sitting in the doorway of the house. This scene was one I’d had pictured months ago, and was the original thing that made the idea happen. While writing this scene it also inspired me to continue the fic and start working on the sequel (which should be coming in the next month or so). There isn’t much dialogue and it may not seem like a lot, but it’s sort of the foundation for the au as a whole.

12.How did you grow as a writer this year: I tried my hand at scheduled writing (violent delights) and it’s something I’ve never seriously dared to do before, seeing as my inspo to write is never consistent nor is my will to edit (I don’t use betas), so it was a lot of work, but clearly it paid off!

13.How do you hope to grow next year: I hope to try a longer fic again. I have a few ideas, nothing concrete yet, but I want to overstep the longest word count I have on a single fic (100k) and post something even longer, with a world even more detailed, and even more thought out. It likely won’t happen for a long time, but it’s still a goal I have.

14.Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): Dunno if this counts as a real answer but music. I listen to music 90% of the time I write (usually classical) and it helps me focus and flow so much better, and I truly don’t think I’d write as often or as much if I didn’t have it.

15.Anything from your real life show up in writing this year: I mentioned this in the authors note, but nearly every single bit of Deux Fantômes. It’s probably the most personal fic I’ve posted to date.

16.Any new wisdom you can share with others writers: Don’t focus so much on making everything perfect during the first write through. Even if it feels bad, write it anyway. You can fix it all later, but I’ve come back to shit I wrote while pissed at 3am and sometimes it’s honestly better than my usual writing haha

17.Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I have a good few fics I’m working on right now, but the sequel to Jupiter is the one I’m enjoying the most at the moment and it’s turning out to be longer and longer the more I write. I just really like aliens I guess haha. Other than that I’ve got one coming either in the next few hours or tomorrow, depends on when I post it, and it’s one I’ve had finished since November!

18.Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read: I think everyone’s probably done this by now but I tag those of you who probably haven’t been tagged. Tag me in your posts I’ll reblog them <3

This was really fun, can’t wait to see what the 2022 post will be like! Thanks to everyone to gave feedback, kudos, reblogs, etc this year, it really makes me feel good!

#ohpleaselarry #annual writing self evaluation #ao3

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lemonpeter · 4 years

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Sharing Is Caring

So here is my second fic for @starkerfestivals Among Us event. Yes, this is quite a bit darker than what I typically write lol but I hope everyone enjoys if this is your thing ❤️

Warnings: threesome (kinda), Steve/Peter sex, choking, murder, brief necrophilia, nff for a variety of reasons

2.5K words

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“I don’t know, Tony,” Peter mused, uselessly tapping away at the controls in an attempt to look busy in case anyone else stopped in.

He and Tony were sent on their task of stopping the mission from happening. Of course, the most efficient way to do so was eliminating the crewmates supposed to do their own tasks to get the ship to take off. They’d only managed four victims so far, halfway there. But just killing was boring and had gotten old quickly.

So Tony had proposed an alternative method.

The other imposter sighed softly, looking up from what he was (faking) doing. “Come on, you know it’ll work.” He bumped Peter with his hip. “And you keep making those eyes at Rogers, I know you want him.”

His cheeks colored, burning a soft pink. “Shut up. Like you don’t look at him the same way.”

Tony scoffed. He wasn’t going to easily be flustered like Peter was. He would own up to being horny for the actual crew. “Why wouldn’t I? He’s gorgeous and I, for one, would love a piece of that.” He laughed. “And it just makes taking one out that much more fun.”

“Alright, alright. I mean- do you think he’ll be hard to convince?”

Tony grinned. He knew that Peter would have agreed anyways, but it was good for it to happen so quickly. Just gave more time to have fun and draw things out. Before the inevitable end. “No, I don’t think so. Not at all.”

“Then...let’s go talk to him.”

They worked out their plan for asking as they walked. Peter would propose it at first. No one could deny his bambi eyes when he asked for something, a fact Tony knew firsthand. Then Tony would assure him that they both want him, it would be amazing to get together.

Then once they got him in bed, they wouldn’t quit until his heart did.

It didn’t take them long to find Steve, his red suit standing out among the silvery grey control panels of the reactor. Not that he could be missed anyways, he was huge compared to most of the other crewmates.

So Peter approached him, an air of shyness around him. It was all an act, of course, but Steve wouldn’t know that.

“Mr. Rogers?” He asked softly, peeking around him like he wanted to see what Steve was doing. “Busy at work?”

Steve glanced over, cracking a small smile when he saw the other man. “Hey, Pete. Just call me Steve, really.” He laughed. “And yeah, just finishing up. Don’t want anything in here to start melting down, you know?”

“Oh, I know.”

Tony had to resist laughing at that. What Steve didn’t know was that Peter was typically the reason the reactor melted down. He thought it was fun to watch the crew panic to fix it as soon as possible. Tony preferred simpler methods of sabotage that didn’t risk killing him and Peter as well.

Peter slowly set his hand on Steve’s arm, no-so-subtly squeezing to feel the muscle there.

The crewmate looked at him, blinking. “Peter?”

“Yeah?” The imposter smiled at him sweetly. He slid his hand up until it was resting on the man’s bicep. “I was thinking….” he glanced back to Tony who gave him a thumbs up.

“Thinking? Tell me what you were thinking,” Steve murmured, eyeing the hand touching him. He didn’t really know where the conversation was going, but Peter and Tony definitely had a reputation around the ship for their sex life being...active. And it felt like they had sought him out. So he had the vaguest idea of what might be happening.

“I just- I’m so attracted to you, Steve.” He bit his lip gently, eyelashes batting as he looked up at the man.

The crewmate turned slightly, eyes darting to Tony. “Y-you are?” He looked back to Peter, studying his face to try and tell if he was lying or not.

But Peter wasn’t lying. And even if he had been, Steve wouldn’t have been able to tell. The imposter was good at what he did. Steve wasn’t any wiser. “Of course I am. You’re amazing and so sexy,” he purred. “Just can’t help it. And...I was wondering if you’d like to be with me.”

“Be with you? Like...like sexually?” He looked to Tony again, who coughed to hide his laughing.

“Of course, silly.” Peter laughed. “What else would I mean?”

His hand on Steve’s bicep moved down again, slipping over his shoulder and down the side of his chest. The crewmate shivered.

“I mean...that would be incredible. If you really want that.” He raked a hand through his hair.

“And would it be okay if Tony joined?” Peter asked sweetly, holding his free hand out for his lover to grab. “I know he’s thought about it too.”

“Oh...well, yeah. Of course he can. He’s your...partner?” Steve said it like a question, unsure of the relationship between the two.

Of course, they were partners. He just only knew about the one meaning of it, though.

Tony chuckled. “So we’ve got a plan. If you’re all finished up here, I think we could get started as soon as possible?”

Steve nodded slowly. “I’m all finished up. Finished- did my task. And I’m almost done with all mine, so I guess I can spare a little time for...recreational activities.” He grinned a little.

Peter laughed at the phrasing of what he said, but nodded all the same. “Of course! We’re almost done as well, I think it’s just two more each and then we’re done.”

The other imposter nodded. Technically it was the truth. Only, their tasks weren’t exactly what was in the discussion. Two tasks left each. Four crewmates left in total.

“Well, good!” Steve exclaimed. “We can definitely take some time then. It’ll be a good time. Who’s room should we go to?”

Peter smiled a little. “Maybe...we could do something a little riskier?” He proposed.

Maybe someone’s personal quarters made more sense and would be more comfortable, but it wasn’t about comfort. The imposters didn’t want to be caught with a corpse in their personal areas. So staying right where they were made more sense.

“What do you have in mind?” The crewmate asked nervously. He wasn’t sure how he felt about risks. What he was already doing with them felt wild enough. He wasn’t sure about adding more.

“Maybe we could stay in here,” Peter murmured, pressing himself against Steve’s side as he talked. Maybe the contact would make him more compliant. “Anyone could catch us...that sounds like fun, doesn’t it?”

So much fun.

Tony made sure the door was locked before they started. Not that Steve knew that. The crewmate believed that the fun was all in possibly getting caught, but Peter and Tony knew better. They couldn’t get caught. Not with their end goal in mind.

While his lover secured the area in secret, Peter began undressing Steve from his suit. Luckily, it was all one piece so it was very easy to get off. Then he discarded his own with little regard and stripped off his own briefs.

Steve admired the man’s figure as he worked on getting himself completely uncovered as well.

Peter was absolutely gorgeous, thin but muscled in all the right places. He had a plump, lovely ass that just wasn’t done justice in his suit. His cock was on the average–leaning smaller– side, but Steve didn’t mind at all. Everything about him seemed to be perfect. Too good to be true.

The man dropped to his knees, hands sliding delicately over Steve’s thick thighs for a moment as he licked his lips.

Then he slowly reached up, pulling Steve down to the floor with him, kissing him hard before pushing him back. “Lay down,” he whispered. “I want to ride you.”

And it wasn’t like Steve was going to say no. Maybe the floor wasn’t the cleanest and maybe not at all comfortable, but he wouldn’t say no to anything Peter said when he looked at him like that.

So he laid down, propped up on his elbows in order to watch the other man as he straddled his lap.

Tony came over to watch them closely, loving watching his love play with their victims. It was always so delicious. His baby was the best actor there was.

Peter stroked the thick cock slowly, shivering as he thought about taking all of it. He would definitely be sore later. But he figured it was all worth it.

He began slowly sinking down onto the cock, groaning in harmony with Steve.

“God, you’re tight,” the crewmate rasped out, watching him closely.

“You’re just so big,” Peter moaned, face screwed up in slight discomfort as he sunk all the way down and stayed still for a moment to adjust.

After his moment he started moving, bouncing on Steve’s cock and squeezing down like he really wanted to please the other man.

Steve moaned, hips rocking in time with Peter’s movements. He hadn’t been with anyone in so long, but he instantly determined that no one he’d ever been with could compare to Peter.

After a few too-loud and close call moments Peter tilted his head back, throat exposed in a way that made Tony want to mark him up and comply to his silent request himself.

“He wants you to choke him,” Tony supplied helpfully.

Steve looked at him, blinking rapidly. “He- what? No. I can’t. That’ll- won’t that hurt him?”

The other man watched, chuckling softly. Clearly Steve didn’t know what to make of the request. “Cmon, just trust me. He loves it,” he encouraged.

Skeptical, Steve gently wrapped a hand around Peter’s throat and squeezed. There was barely any pressure behind it as he didn’t know what exactly to do.

Tony shook his head. “No, no, harder. You have to do it harder than that if you want him to like it. He can take more than you’d think, don’t worry.”

The crewmate watched the man riding him, breathing hard. “Okay….”

He slowly tightened his grip, watching Peter’s expression change from pleased to completely blissed out.

The young man’s hips jerked as he worked to keep up his movements, but just the immediate action of being choked made his cock twitch and balls tighten as he fought against cumming instantly.

After a few moments, Steve let go when Peter’s face began turning red and he seemed to try and gasp for air he couldn’t get.

He watched closely, almost in awe at how much Peter seemed to love it. He couldn’t imagine being in such sheer pleasure from being choked like that.

His grip tightened again and he moaned at the pathetic whimper that left Peter.

“Look how happy that makes him,” Tony mused. “He’s so lost in it, so desperate and relaxed at the same time.”

Steve gently loosened his grip for a moment, listening as Peter gasped for air. He almost missed what Tony said next.

“Do you want to try, Stevie?”

The crewmate looked at the other man, grip going slack around Peter’s neck as he listened and thought about it. Did he want it? The prospect of being choked made him a little nervous, but then he thought about how much Peter seemed to enjoy it. The action had almost gotten him to the edge alone, it had to have been good.

So Steve slowly nodded, biting his lip. “I think- I mean, that might be nice. To try.”

A grin tugged at Tony’s lips and he didn’t try to hide it. “I can do that for you. I’ll make it good, I promise.”

And it was sealed.

Tony moved to a better position, kneeling at Steve’s side so that he wasn’t blocking the man’s view of Peter riding him. Might as well have a pretty sight for his last few moments.

He wrapped one hand around Steve’s neck, not going anywhere close to all the way around. But he didn’t need that much yet. He just needed around the front and part of the sides, which was what he got.

The crewmate watched him, almost nervous, before relaxing as Tony started closing his grip.

He instantly saw the appeal, heart racing at the initial slight panic of what was going on, but the feeling only adding to the high of what he was feeling. It didn’t take him long to get slightly light headed and feel floaty, and he understood the blissed look on Peter’s face.

But then he started panicking again when Tony’s grip didn’t loosen. He couldn’t breathe.

He reached one hand up to push the man away but Peter held his arm down and Tony’s other hand wrapped around his neck as well.

In his terror, he suddenly understood.

They were the imposters.

Tony didn’t let go until Steve’s body went completely slack, eyes blank as every bit of life left him with the lack of oxygen to his brain.

Peter cried out as he watched, still riding the crewmate’s cock with renewed vigor. He loved watching their victims slip away, it made him feel so powerful even if he wasn’t the one doing it directly. “Oh fuck, Tony, I’m gonna cum,” he breathed.

His lover chuckled, moving closer and sliding a gentle hand over Peter’s chest and moving down to wrap around his cock. He stroked it quickly, helping him get closer. “Go ahead, honey, you deserve it. Come on. You did so amazing with him, go ahead and make a mess, cum all over him.”

The younger imposter whimpered, movements slowing as he reached his high. Cum spurted over Steve’s torso, painting the paling skin white.

By the time he was completely finished, Peter was panting and whining softly from the overstimulation of continuing to have the crewmate’s cock in him. He slowly moved off, getting his suit back on gently.

“We should clean him up quickly,” Tony mused. “No evidence.” He grabbed a stray rag as he talked, wiping up the mess that Peter had made.

Peter made sure there was no other sort of evidence, making sure the scene was pristine and nothing could be led back to them.

And as soon as everything was clean, they were gone. Slipped through the vents. They left Steve’s body in the reactor to rot until someone came to look for him or accidentally stumbled upon the scene.

When the body was eventually found, it wasn’t mentioned the state that it was in.

Maybe whoever found him was too shy to talk about how Steve was found naked. Or maybe they just wanted to let him preserve some sort of weak dignity.

But no one could point fingers to the only ones that would leave him that way. Because they had an alibi.

As soon as they finished with Steve, Tony and Peter quickly went back to the former’s room to ravish each other and bask in the pleasure of their latest kill. They got away with it once again.

Only three left to go.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #tony x Peter x Steve #starkerfestivalsevents #among us au #SFAmongUs #tw death #tw choking #steve rogers #necrophilism #I sincerely hope I have everything tagged #someone let me know if i forgot anything #please

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appledotcodotuk · 3 years

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why the hive fckin suck at its job: a rant

spoilers for tgwdlm ahead!

first of all, it's important to consider what exactly the hive's job is. my answer is... who the fuck knows. literally. what is the hive's aim. what do you want Paul? more like, what do you want hive? let's find out!

it kinda evolves, as the play progresses. the intial aim of the hive, and one that does actually remain consistent is the constant burning need to grow and devour and gain more and more (insert capitalism metaphor here).

however, this is distorted by the people it possess who influence that aim, as we'll see later.

also the fact it crashes into a theatre displaying Mamma Mia gives the hive the motive it need to fit the world around it to the structure of the musical. having no originality of its own, the hive instead just picks up what is given to it. kinda like an evil baby.

it wants uniformity, that is indeed its ultimate goal and desire, no duh. it thinks it can achieve that through musical theatre, shame that the hive is dead wrong. cause the hive fucking sucks at its own job / aim / ultimate purpose / one concrete goal that motivates all its actions.

can't maintain control over its subjects

okay, so, the hive wants uniformity. it wants everyone to be dancing to the beat of its own tune. right? yeah. shame it literally can't keep its own possessed subjects in line at all. at the risk of sounding like the 10th doctor waxing lyrical abt humanity for the 50th time, humans are really difficult to control cause we're not really motivated by an altruistic allegiance to one primary good. we've got icky emotions that often move us to do stupid unpredictable stuff way more. it makes me wonder if the reason the hive wanted to use musical theatre to try and persuade ppl was cause it seems to think that is how theyll get emotive humans; through emotive songs. anyways. let's look at some examples shall weeeee?

Mr Davidson:

so, Mr Davidson. funnily enough, he's the guy whose in part acting as the hive trying to figure out what it wants through his interactions w/ Paul. every person it possess gives it just a bit more humanity and curiosity abt the world it is currently taking over. at least I think so. hence why as the musical develops u get character's like possessed!Alice wondering 'why does it hurt to love?' - the change in music and mood to something much more introspective really suggests to me that the hive is beginning to question the thoughts and emotions of its human hosts.

Mr Davidson is a family man through and through, he loves his wife Carol. she's his muse, his source of light. his feelings for her are not concrete or easy to explain and solve - hence why his sudden ahem demand of her is so hilarious and also jarring. it completely clashes with the 'I want song' which is simple, and often pushes forward a wider cause. not so with Mr Davidson, he just really loves his wife man. enough to break a frickin alien possession.

tbh I think its hilarious that (at least to me) the hive has to force him to forget and continue with the song, like, he straight up is just talking to his wife in that phone call, talking, not singing. so, no possession until he reverts back into song. ergo, the hive cannot maintain the uniformity it wants. even from the get go when theoretically its control should be stronger cause it has less ppl to co-ordinate. bad. at. its. job.

Paul:

this one hurts folks. yes, I know it's generally agreed, though somewhat debated that the state of Paul by the end of the tgwdlm is not purely possessed. I agree. once again, the hive is unable to truly enforce uniformity.

at this point, the motives of Paul and the hive are kinda just mixed, neither fully human nor fully alien. hence the constant shifts between pleeing for her to get away, to hide, to stay safe: 'what if the only choice is you have to sing to survive' and just full on old style hive nastiness 'let me puke in your mouth and just open your food bin girl' (so romantic 🥰 /j).

the hive has gone away from its original aim, and become something... different. no longer stuck to just one type of genre or style of song, it's really clever to show the developing complexity of the hive by showing how it is now juggling lots of different motifs with references to all the old songs from before recontextualised in a new way - its learning. evil baby... no longer uniform.

general miscommunication:

there are several instances of the hive not fully having uniform control over its subjects. for instance, right after not your seed with the three teens having to like... calibrate. they aren't just completely connected then?? also, this is a very small thing, but uhhhh at the end of inevitable when Paul is about to say the apotheosis is upon... the chorus interrupts him with USSSSSSS. interruptions??? not very in sync of u hive.

I think this inability to exert uniformity is also shown in the contrast between genre of musical theatre. my alien abomination cannot decide whether it wants to be the more modern edgy rock musical (join us (and die), not your seed ) or super happy go lucky old style musical theatre (lah dee dah dah day, and inevitable). it tries to do both, even while trying to encourage union, and sticking to one thing. hypocrite!!!!!

2. aims are guided by the people it possess

so, I mentioned this a bit already, but the hive isn't only mutating the humans, the humans are mutating the hive right back. this is more an interesting observation than any actual analysis but let's goooo.

greenpeace girl:

I think it's very likely that greenpeace girl is one of the first to be possessed. This is probably easily debunkable but whatever this analysis is flying by the seat or its pants anywayyyyy. why? cause where else would it pick up that whole 'this planet needs fixing' thing? it's interesting too, cause it morphs from expressing the desire to join hands and sing together, unity and peace with no actual action behind it. this then goes right to the other end, with the hive going 'fine I'll do it myself' and trying to save things by enforcing a dictatorship on the world. it develops and changes, and strays from its original means of accomplishing its aims! speaking oooooof...

3. inconsistent in means of accomplishing aims

okay, ur an evil hive mind. u think musicals are the way to win over these silly humans cause they're all weak and emotive and seem to respond to them. but, wait! schwoopsie! you haven't realised that for emotional depth and growth to mean anything, you need there to be established development and well... growth. otherwise the sentiments are as vague as the ones expressed in What Do You Want, Paul?

this show has genuine emotional moments, just not really during the musical numbers WITH EXCEPTIONS. any strife is smoothed over quickly, and so the development and change that would have to go into such growth is just gone. (see, You Tied Up My Heart) all so it can achieve its own desire to grow and grow and grow, maybe a metaphor for art being killed under late stage capitalism??

what actually matters is the impact the songs have afterwards, in causing a death - because we have a bond and care abt these characters. those short scenes between Paul and Emma are actually way more resonant than any song. except... inevitable, and also not your seed a bit. at this point the hive has learnt a thing or two, and can actually twist human emotion a little. but for it to do that, it has to reject the uniformity it prizes, and be adaptable. point towards being more human than it first thought? methinks so. and yet it's just not enough...

it's also why let it out, to me, feels really ingenuine. Paul has expressed himself in much better ways already. what they're doing is clearly paining him, and hurting the guy. he's terrified bless.

you can't force someone into being emotional vulnerable, man.

it's why all the deaths for the characters who are forced to express themselves are really violent, involving them being ripped open - literally forcing them to expose themselves from the 'inside out' as Alice reflects in Not Your Seed. you can't force genuine emotional connection, it has to be fostered, shown in the much more affecting relationship of Paul and Emma. the only reason the hive actually has power over our characters is because of these genuine emotional connections, which it tries and often fails to take advantage of, resulting in just resorting to brute violence. messy hive, very messy.

at the core, the musical's a kinda attack on that toxic positivity mindst: trying to force people to reach the sort of easy solutions by sharing feelings in a way that feels pretty invasive and deciding you are instantly fixed. the problems these characters face are jarringly not really what you'd expect a character in a musical to face, cheating, a lot of it, mid-life crisis. problems that are bland, or wayyyy too real. this is purposefully done, to reveal just how silly the hive's aim to use musical theatre to solve everyone's problem is. life is more complex than that smh.

4. a human can write a much more expressive, and genuine song than they ever could lol

u know which song I'm talking abt. what more is there to say. so much for making persuasive songs to tempt people over.

5. make me sad cause they took some perfectly nice ppl and funked them up 😭

this was a stupid point lol. basically I'm just bitter that this hive took a bunch of perfectly okay ppl and gave them hive brain. screw u hive. I swear I'm gonna watch Black Friday soon, cause I'm sure it's gonna completely destroy every thought I've had so far, but whateve,,, just take this as a look at tgwdlm like it's a stand-alone piece.

these guys are supposed to all be 'individuals' on one level, but also 'appendages of a much larger organism'. there's a little too much individualism and fracturing to be cohesive enough to do that I feel. the hive to me is not an infallible, unstoppable force, in fact, every human it takes over only brings it closer to understanding us. so that's maybe a slight positive note??? idk ?! I just have lots of thoughts and feelings abt this musical even if this doesn't make sense I'm proud i wrote it down hehe.

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talesofnovembria · 3 years

Text

Are you worthy?

The game had begun.

Two had already taken off into the depths of the castle, eager to begin their search. It was expected of those present to make their way out of the central room to the rest of the building, just as those two had done… but she hesitated. This was a game, but relatively anything in regards to an end goal, or even rules had been left a mystery. All the contestants had were a vague idea on where to go from this starting point.

Use your head. You don’t know what to expect, none of us do. It would be smarter to work together.

A tiny voice crawling in her head managed to point out the obvious, “It’s a game. There can only be one winner.”

He was right, of course, but there were a couple problems with that. For one, this was a game of honor. Any other sort of scenario like this one, it would have been smarter for her to go on her own, prepare herself for the inevitable conflict, and there was nothing to solidly deter her away from that in the present situation… except for one thing. Looking around the room at the others here, only two of whom she recognized.

And recognized was not the same as knowing them. What were they capable of? The Divine King had made it very clear this event came with risk, and all of them had still made the conscious decision to attend. It seemed to be one of the aspects that had all of them on edge before the announcement of the game’s beginning. It wasn’t hard for her gaze to wash over the others and feel that with not only her background, but her line of work, might give her some kind of unfair advantage. What could any of them do to her?

And where was the honor in that?

For two, the very threat of some kind of unknown risk. Again that nagging question came back… what were they capable of? Spirits and humans in a world where the very rules of existence were so unclear. How would they protect themselves? A worrying feeling sank into her very being. If this were her own team, she’d leave no man behind. They were a team for a reason.

The blue haired girl, Vivi… the blond with one metal arm, Arthur… and a spirit tinted to the color of blue, who’s name she didn’t know. They were the only ones currently left in the room… in a way, her team… but only if they saw it the same way.

And that led her to be the one to address them first, “I don't know about the rest of you, but I think we may stand a better chance sticking together. See what this place has to offer. If you'll allow me, I'll go where you do."

Arthur had gone up to the Divine King, not only to make sure he was alright, but to see if maybe there was some more information the host of the event might have to offer to them. He only confirmed what she assumed, that this was meant to be a free-for-all. Only one winner.

At one point or another… it must be expected that they would turn on one another. A sickening feeling in some regard.

But one good thing had come of focusing on him first. He’d been the first to agree with her, though proposed an idea of his own. Splitting into two smaller groups. There was safety in numbers… but he had one point. Even if the four of them aimed to work together, they could cover more ground if they split up. He had also brought up the prospect of looking for the others as well, though that plan wasn’t as desirable. All of them had to remember they were still part of a game.

If they came across the others, then fine, but they should also look to give themselves a fighting chance rather than spending all their time looking for someone else.

She hadn’t paid much attention to what the blue spirit was doing, though her attention had finally retreated from her own inner thoughts when Vivi spoke up, "We have no idea what could be waiting for us out there. We don't know if we'll be strong in numbers, but it's worth a try."

She had paced ahead, coming to the now unlocked doors that lead to the rest of the castle. She’d given a glance over her shoulder to ensure the other three were coming, “Come on then! Let’s get this show on the road!”

Well, she certainly had enthusiasm to share.

This really was the team then?

The blue haired one taking charge.

The skittish, but caring, blond.

The bone covered spirit in formal wear.

And an unusual canine companion.

A strange combination, and yet fitting in a way.

"It seems the decision has been made then," she mused more to herself than the others in the room. Once she had also come to the doors, she offered a passing glance to the other two members of their team. Eventually, they came back to Vivi, "It would be a good idea if we also keep track of where we are and where we have been. At least that way if we come across something that may be dangerous, we have somewhere we can return to. I'm open to suggestions on where we go first."

Vivi hadn’t offered a suggestion, but her ears turned to listen to those behind her.

"Would... do you want to... maybe partner up with me for now...? While we look around. Or-- I mean if you'd rather with one of the others that's fine and all I just.... Yeah...."

“I’d love to go with you.”

"Let's go, big guy. You follow me for now, okay? We'll see what we can find."

It seemed those two had made their decision, but there was no need to press the issue. She’d simply remembered her first thought. So long as they were helping each other out, then this was a tactical way of seeing more of the castle grounds before they found their way back to one another. Rather than try to press the issue, she accepted it. Calling over to Arthur, "I'll go off with Vivi then for now. We can always meet up later and compare findings. Good luck you two."

He waved, calling back to them, "Good luck to you guys too! I'll try to pick up anyone we run into if I can."

From there, they went their separate ways.

Salena hadn’t noticed until too late that Vivi was no longer with her. A mocking tone whispered through her head, “Nice going. Not a few minutes in and you’ve lost your new partner. Good job mutt.”

Hush.

She should turn around, look for Vivi… but she should also take part in the actual game. The girl looked like she could take care of herself, if their one interaction prior to this was anything to go off of. She… should press on ahead for now. They were bound to meet up again at some point.

So long as she was beginning her exploration, it was best to take navigating in a methodical approach. She should start with the current floor, but that line of thinking could always change.

How… unsettling it was she found herself in the throne room first. The room was pristine, stone under her feet and along the walls. The space was enclosed, yet light seemed to flood in from around her. Stained glass made a multitude of colors shimmer in the stone room. There were smaller spirits here, simpler than the Divine King, or even the one that had gone off with Arthur. They noticed her when she entered, but had largely gone back to their cleaning duties.

So these spirits were the King’s his staff in a way. They were ignored for the time being, as they didn’t appear to be a threat.

At the very center of the room was the throne itself, adorned in gold, vines and sunflowers decorating the seat. There were ancient symbols here, ones neither one of them could understand. This kingdom was unique, and it would be foolish to assume that even in Alexander’s massive library, there would be anything on these designs. Statues lined along the walls, giving the whole room a beautiful, but regal setting.

Not like the frozen throne that flashed no more than a split second. That’s in the past.

Her feet carried her closer to the throne, her fingers tracing over the symbols, as well as the soft texture of the sunflowers’ petals. They were old, but somehow still full of life. A shine in the corner of her eye caught her attention. There, in the center seat was a crown. Golden… decorated in jewels.

Her name echoed from what felt like every surface in the room. She found her fingers laced over the top of the piece. This had to be the Divine King’s crown yes? Why then were they chanting as if she were meant to take it? How could she? Was it just part of the game… or were they tempting her? It was a role unfitting for her, one she’d never want.

She never deserved a crown upon her head… she didn’t even deserve to be here in the first place.

It was becoming unbearable. Too many voices buzzing around in one spot. Silence them.

The beast pushed herself to her feet, leaving the crown in its place. She couldn’t take it, and she dared not to look back at the reactions of the spirits pushing her to make her choice. Their hums filled her ears as she walked towards the staircase in the back of the room. She’d noticed it briefly before other things had called her attention.

“I thought you said you were going to take a methodical approach to this exploration thing.”

And I am.

“You’re going up a flight of stairs.”

Look, the upper floors are bound to be fewer than the ground level, so I’ll work my way from the top to the bottom. That still keeps the methodical approach in mind.

“Whatever you say dear.”

He faded into the background again, just as another shine caught her eye. They’d been scanning around the area as she had her internal conflict. Every room could hold something important, even the staircases, so best to see if there was anything that looked out of place or unordinary. What she’d managed to find was a… pin? It was golden in color, but nothing around here showed any hint as to what this might have gone to.

Or at least, nothing did until she had gone up a few more steps.

There were more of those spirits there, a white pillar towering over their smaller forms. They were trying to pick up some smaller objects along the ground with their… what she could only assume were hands. That made her raise an eyebrow. Weren’t they spirits? Could they not pick up anything regardless of the item’s size? Were the ‘rules’ here really that specific? A soft sigh passed through her lips, gathering two more pins to go with the one she’d already found.

Her hand seemed to hover over the gem resting with them. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary gem… but looks could always be deceiving. Even he knew that. He’d probably have her move on from here, untrusting of something that honestly looked similar to a prison of his own.

How he hated his time trapped in that tiny crystal.

Thankfully they were not alone. Surely these spirits could understand her, and therefore answer a simple question, "That gem. Is it dangerous?"

A shake of their heads. With that confirmed, she took it into her arms.

There was one little other tidbit of information the spirits had spilled: His Majesty would be rather upset if he found out they were irresponsible and dropped it on accident.

That in itself seemed so… out of character. Granted, it’s not like the man wasn’t capable of getting mad, but rather it seemed silly to get upset over an item like this. It was just by itself, and on display… and it wasn’t dangerous. Well, if that was the case, might as well help out.

“Oh yes, let’s waste some time worrying over a little display rather than continuing on our way.”

And like most of his backseat commentary, she ignored that comment.

The spirits offered no help, but it seemed simple enough to figure out. There were three pins, two gold and one silver, with the silver one being longer than the gold ones. Ok, so it made sense then that the two gold ones would go near one another. The silver one must be like a support pin for the gem, which would leave the smaller ones being used to hold it up. It didn’t take long to put everything in place. She stood back from her work…

Only to be showered in confetti… Now where did that come from?

She just went with it, ignoring the snickering echoing in her head.

"Well, at least the display is fixed. Probably don't want to leave this laying around for the Divine to find hmm?"

As if one could sense this, it had made the proper cleaning items appear, working on the mess. Meanwhile, the other one had another plan. It had dropped something in her lap… a key? No clue as to what it had gone, just left with her before they disappeared. Guess that was her cue to leave, but not before she made one final remark.

A waste of time was this?

“Hush mutt.”

The key was tucked away into one of the pockets on her shorts, making her way to the top of the stairs. Just as she got there, a voice made her look back the way she came. There was… someone younger coming towards her, with… white hair? She crossed her arms, “Might want to watch where you are going unless you want to trip, or run into someone."

That advice largely went ignored, the stranger coming to her. She held a flower in her hands, one that was offered to her, "For you! Everybody gets a flower!"

"Alright? Thanks?"

And with that she was on her way. That was…

“Strange? Unprompted? Odd? Take your pick.” She shook her head, taking the flower as she tucked it behind her ear. Might as well keep the small gift that was offered to her. Finally, she could get back to the path she’d begun once her first foot hit the stairs. There were hallways, but there had to be another staircase around that would lead her to the top floor. She can check the rooms on this floor when she was done on the upper level.

Sure enough, she found what she was looking for. Nothing caught her eyes this time, though the sound of windchimes in the air filled her ears. She closed her eyes, listening to the calming tune.

It’s almost peaceful here.

“Don’t let your guard down. There’s no telling what will happen.”

I know.

What stretched out before them was a balcony, three separate areas to choose from. Yes, this would make for easier searching, then she could return to the second floor. There were only three rooms, and if they were hidden this far up, there had to be some secrets kept here. Items of mystery and value, although cliché, were usually in a basement, or on the highest floor. The same seemed to ring true here. She had her options laid before her, though one room in particular drew her attention towards it. A calling perhaps? She’d gotten feelings like this before, so it wasn’t too out of the ordinary.

Salena pushed the door open, her gaze falling on a sword. Magic seemed to pulse off it, a light glow surrounding it as she stepped into the room. From what she could tell, the sword was made by an expert. She had a specialty in crafting weapons herself, but there was power radiating off this one, even if it was stuck in stone. There were… runic symbols? Something carved along the blade itself. This certainly put a fair amount of her work to shame.

A voice echoed softly around her.

Such A Furry Little Face....You Have Come So Far, Haven't You, Dear One?

...

Tell me...Are You Worthy?

Worthy? There was an easy answer to that, yet instead of answering with that response she stepped closer, "Worthy.. that in itself is a very vague question. Worthy of what? Of the blade before me? Of the Divine's blessing should I win? To win? I could go on.."

Worthy Of Whatever You Feel You Are Worthy Of...I Am Merely A Weapon To Be Used By Whoever Finds Me. I Shall Carry Out Whatever You Feel Worthy Of, Whatever Means That Much To You.

A sword in a stone. It was here because it was meant to be pulled out by someone yes? Someone worthy from the sound of it. So then why was she wrapping her hand around the hilt as if she thought she might be able to pull it out?

"And what if I believe that I'm not truly worthy of anything?"

Then You May Choose The Path Of Unworthiness. It Is A Painful Route To Take, Dear One.

A tingle of what felt like static sparked under her fingers. A sense of panic began to wash over her, “Let go of the blade.”

That just made her grip it tighter. Teeth grit together, ears pinning back against her head, a slightly strained voice released from her mouth, "You say that as if I don't know that road. It's one I chose to walk long before I came here. I don't understand it, probably never will. How can others see worth in someone like me when I can't see it in myself?"

The static feeling began to race up her arm.

.....You Have Already Felt That Pain, Yes?

Her arm started glowing. Glowing a bright yellow that shone even from under her long sleeved clothing.

“Salena! Let go of the damn sword!”

None of them noticed the sword come out a few inches.

You Must Learn To Find That Self Worth, Then. So Many Here See You As A Good Friend.

A snarl ruptured from her throat, a familiar pain shooting through her arm. She knew this feeling, the hairs starting to smoke amongst the sea of gold. Her head was screaming at her to let go, yet for some stupid reason, she was still hanging on. Her free hand moved to the stone under her, having knelt down in front of the blade shortly before, now running her claws along them… as if that might mitigate some of the pain. She fought to get her words out, "Is it wrong that I don't understand why? There are those here that barely know me."

No Problem At All. Healing Takes Time And Work. But The Strangers Who Look At You...Do Look At You With Understanding. You Must Look Inside Your Own Heart To See The Worth That They See In You. You May Find It To Be True In The End.

More pain…

“You damn bitch! I am begging you! Let go of the damn blade!”

Her eyes widened.

Fire… Burning fire!

“Oh hell no! You are not doing this on me!”

He raced through the hallways of her mind. By now, he knew exactly which alcove was connected to which set of memories. He only needed to find the ones on ‘him’ and his followers. None of them could risk an attack coming out of the panic seeping into her very mind. The locks on the doors were cracking, wood splintering under the strain. Well, not if he could help it.

“She should just listen to me. Let go of the damn thing hurting her, but noooo. She has to be her usual stubborn self.” His hand waved, more chains crawling over the doors. That should keep them from surfacing. With any luck, she’d come to her senses before even his locks broke.

Her head pressed further into the cool metal of the blade, huffs escaping her maw. How much longer should she keep going on? No… it didn’t matter how long. Endure.

"Understanding huh...? Like me...?"

Her eyes closed, thinking back to all those in her life. Alexander. Malceum. Cassandra. Hell, even the Good Doctor himself.

What about Arthur and Vivi? She saw worth in them, and they did in her did they? These strangers she just met but might be just like her?

She opened her eyes, finally seeming to come to an internal understanding. She fought against the pain, using her free hand to push herself up from the ground, "I've always wondered what I kept fighting for... Why keep going if there was no point, that I had no worth...? I was taken in... everyone sees a worth in me that I can't... bogged down by my past sins.. my past mistakes.. But so long as I am still here, at least I have those worth keeping safe. Maybe if I can finally do just that.. I'll be able to see it for myself.. Until then..."

Her one grip on the blade tightened, knuckles probably would be white were it not only for her fur, but the constant glow shining off it, "I won't stop fighting. Maybe I'm worthy, maybe I'm not, maybe you really are right. Isn't that how it usually is sometimes? Having to be told something you should already know?"

A long silence.

You Are A Wise Woman, Indeed. Hurt By The Fate Life Has Given You...But You Have Grown To Understand A Lot Of Things.

The pain finally died away, the glow fading to reveal her normal fur… or at least normal save for the slight black marks on the end, tiny wisps of smoke, and the irritated red of burns see running across her skin. A calm breeze passed around her form, her arm trembling roughly from the trial she endured.

Ah, Yes. I See...I Understand...Well. Aside From That. I Only Pray Life Gets Better For You From Here On Out, Madam Salena. But I Am Impressed With How You Manage Through Your Troubles.

Even with the pain gone, her hand still refused to let go of the hilt; although, she did manage to crack a smile, "How can I do anything else? Anything to ensure I don't lose what I have left to hold onto. I hope that you may find someone worthy of you."

A selfless lady, indeed. I could not be any prouder, even if we just met.

A sentient weapon? Proud of her? It really shouldn’t be… but who was she to try and convince it otherwise?

The echoing voice giggles around her, About that worthiness....

...

I think I already have a few choices.

From there, the sword sank back into the stone, silence surrounding her. Her hand released its grip, allowing her to stagger over to the closest wall. No way she was going anywhere else for a little while. Her uninjured arm clinged to the other one, stinging racing through her entire side. Her back pressed against the stone, lowering herself down. The sword shouldn’t mind if she rested here for a while.

And then on cue, a frustrated voice rang in her head.

“I can’t believe you! Actually no, scratch that. I can believe you would do something as stupid as this! It’s light magic! You know what that does to you! I told you to fucking stop, but as always, you don’t want to listen to me. I don’t know why I stay with you half the time when you do things like this! Oh right, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t have a willing host. This game just started and look at what you’ve done day one. Not looking good for-”

Alastair…

“Don’t interrupt me.”

Alastair please…

“What the fuck do you want?”

Do you think I’m worthy?

He fell silent for a short while before the voice came back, “Worthy of what?”

Anything.

“I think that if you weren’t worthy of something, you wouldn’t have a home… a family, a husband, people that care about you… shall I go on?”

I asked for your opinion, not what those in my life might think.

An audible sigh, “Look dear, I can’t give you all the answers. It’s just as the hunk of metal told you. It’s kind of something you have to answer for yourself.”

She fell to silence. There was another sigh, “Come on, you need to rest. Once you have, we need to get your arm treated. Just, close your eyes and sleep, I’ll take care of your nightmares.”

Thank you…

“Yeah yeah, just rest.”

Her eyes closed, head leaning back against the stone wall. In the darkness, a presence was felt. Golden looked upon her for a brief moment before fading back into nothingness.

What an interesting first day.

---

((Cameo appearances from: The Divine King / @diviinc, Vivi / @viviskull, Arthur / @punsandfuturekingsmen, Lament / @lamentinglewis, Jun / @thetownfarmer))

#Event!: The Divine King's Game Of Honor #bitch in armor - salena #helpful? hollow - the good doctor #Reblog-able #tw; injury #((I have wanted to write this part out in greater detail for a while now))#((Especially since Sal technically has a little tag along with her that hasn't made himself known yet))#((I hope you all enjoy!!))

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bestintheparsec · 4 years

Text

The Same Coin - Part 4

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter out! I split one of the chapters into two (so this series will now have 8 chapters instead of 7), which is why this chapter is a bit shorter—the next one should be out soon after I post this one! I hope you like this one (things are coming soon😏), and as always I appreciate any feedback! Thank you for reading!

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: angst, slow roast burn continues

Javier pushes the thin blanket off of himself, leaning over to light a cigarette. He shuts his eyes, taking a long drag before exhaling. He wants to forget a lot of things, but for the past two days it’s seemed like no amount of alcohol could drown out the thoughts of you.

It shouldn't be like this. He shakes his head and rubs his face. You shouldn’t be there, taking up residence in his mind; the same way you shouldn’t have been in his room, so close to him that night. But there’s a thought that lingers in the crevices of his mind, whether or not he’s willing to admit it out loud. Maybe he had wanted you to stay that night. Asking you to do so would’ve pushed you both past an invisible line, one he doesn’t want you to cross—certainly not for him. He’s made his fair share of bad decisions that have gotten people hurt, and asking you to stay would’ve been another. Whatever it was that overcame him, it can’t and won’t happen again. The man you held that night isn’t someone who deserves to be comforted. He brushes off the nagging emotion—the one that’s wrapped him up and filled him with warmth for the entirety of the last forty-eight hours. He doesn’t deserve to be that man, the one who finds refuge in another. He tries to go back to a state of numbness, where he belongs.

The gentle hand that touches his shoulder almost makes him jump. “You’re thinking very loudly,” she muses.

He turns to the woman. Her hair is messy, the long waves falling softly over her bare shoulders. She meets his eyes, smiling at him before sitting up and placing her other hand on his shoulder and massaging it.

He wants this to be enough—the sensation of her warm skin on his, the feeling of release. He's not sure if it was ever enough. But when he loses himself in her arms, he doesn’t feel as safe as he did in yours that night. What the fuck has gotten into me?

He doesn’t answer, instead pouring himself another glass of whiskey and sighing when the bottle runs empty.

“It’s work, isn’t it?” she asks, curiously.

“No,” he replies simply, turning away. I can’t even escape there.

She smiles softly again, lightly caressing his face before getting out of bed to put her clothes back on.

He doesn’t meet her eyes but knows she’s watching him. “Is there anything I can do?” she asks, her tone teasing.

He puts the cigarette back to his lips, shaking his head. She slips her shoes on, taking her purse before leaving when he calls to her.

“Lina,” he murmurs. She turns to him.

Despite himself, his mind plays with the idea of being with someone for longer than just a night or two. He holds her gaze for a few moments, then looks away. “Nothing,” he finally whispers.

You’re sitting at your desk with your chin resting on your knuckle. It’s early so no one else is here yet, leaving you alone with your relentless thoughts. There’s plenty to do, but too many things have been keeping you up so you’re even more exhausted than usual. So much so that you don’t realize you’re dozing off until Steve sets his things down on his desk loudly, startling you.

He looks you in the eyes, giving you a tiny smirk. “Long weekend?” he asks, and you reply with only a groan, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He grins. “Maybe we can all get drinks later or—” he starts, but stops when you suddenly drop your head and turn your attention back to the files in front of you.

He’s about to ask what the problem is when Javier comes up from behind him, setting his cup of coffee down. Javier acknowledges him with a nod but says nothing to you, pulling out his chair and sitting down, refusing to look at you. Steve watches the two of you, confused by the awkward silence. He raises his brows and shrugs, because what's new? He lets out a huff of air, slumping down in his own chair and getting to work.

You try to quell the unwelcome flushing of warmth in your face as you think back to that night. It took you most of the weekend to admit to yourself that you just might have felt something shift in yourself after those events. As much as it frustrates you, you can't get the image of Peña—his warm skin against yours, the static of his fingers brushing against your cheek—out of your head. You've tried to convince yourself it was just pity that took you in there, but it might be more than that—and that scares you. Whatever you’re feeling right now, it needs to stop. This isn’t what you’re here for, and there are a multitude of other things to worry about—things that don’t involve other DEA agents and your feelings for them. About them, not for them, you remind yourself. So why can’t you even look him in the eyes?

It was your decision to go into his room that night. It was a conscious choice, and you don’t regret it. You know how the long nights can wreak havoc on a person’s mind when they’ve seen the same things you have—if you’re able to support someone through it, you’ll do it every time. But that’s all this is, and it’s all it can be—he’s your partner, just like Steve is. You refuse to get attached, not when you live a life surrounded by danger; and especially not when Peña seems to throw himself in that path more often than everyone else. There’s already enough rules being broken around here, you may as well try to follow your own.

You cast a sideways glance at him. He’s absent-mindedly working on the files at hand, resting his fingers against his temple and seemingly unaffected by your presence. You shouldn’t care, but you still wonder if it’s just you overanalyzing again—the thought that he’s unfazed bothers you, for a reason you can’t comprehend. Forcing yourself to look away, you decide that if Peña doesn’t care, then you don’t have to either.

Javier taps his fingers impatiently on the desk, waiting for an excuse to dip out—to anywhere. He gets the feeling you would love to do the same, although you’re usually better at staying composed than he is. But he watches your fingers play with the same loose button on your cardigan, and he almost wishes he had an excuse to offer you for that night. What is there to even say?

His attention is pried away from you when Trujillo marches over, whispering something about a phone call for him. Javier feels your concerned eyes on him as he walks away from his desk, and he feels even more guilty for not saying a word to you all day. You don't deserve to be ignored like this. But surely the silence is better than all the bickering that constantly made his blood pressure rise. He’s hardly paying attention to whatever Trujillo’s telling him now, shaking his head before picking up the phone.

Javier slings his leather jacket over his shoulder, walking towards his Jeep. He doesn’t ever tell himself he’s a good man—nor has he claimed to be one. Sometimes you have to do bad things to catch bad people. This thought repeats itself in his head as he starts the car, preparing to drive to meet this informant. Heat waves radiate off the concrete roads as he drives towards his destination. He’s worked with the man before, but only on more...official arrangements. Whatever he has to offer this time, there’s no doubt it’s going to be under-the-table, since it was made explicitly clear that Javier should come alone and with discretion.

Everything he's done has been done with a single goal in mind—get Escobar. Time and time again, one wrong decision ends up with people being dead, or damaged beyond repair. The lines under his eyes and the heaviness that permanently lives in his chest are further proof that he needs to leave other people out of his decisions, if at all possible. He learned a long time ago that once you get into bed with monsters, you’re forced to live with them alone.

Somehow, this drags his thoughts back over to you. He could've stopped you from coming in that night—should've shut the damn door. It would’ve been easy—a simple “just go” and you wouldn’t have hesitated to leave. Javier swallows thickly when he realizes that maybe he left it open for a reason. He remembers his conversation with you on the bench, the day of the explosion. “It’s best not to be attached to anything, or anyone,” you’d said. He’d pretended not to notice when you let that slip, but if anything, it’s the one thing you both have in common. He knows better than to let himself get too close to anyone. But his mind keeps taking him back to the gentle look in your eyes before you wrapped your arms around him. To how, for once, he felt like he was being enveloped in something other than darkness. To the way he felt his fears and anxieties from that nightmare flee his body, if only for a short while. Because of you. Fuck. He hasn't known peace, not in a long time. He doesn't want to find it in another person.

He grips the steering wheel a little tighter, turning his focus back onto the road. Familiar buildings pass by as he makes his way to the same convenient spot in a quieter part of town, a place he knows well. He can almost hear the comments you and Steve would have if you knew about this. But someone has to do what no one else will.

He sighs loudly. Javier knows he doesn't deserve to feel the sense of comfort that he did in your arms, but maybe...he wants to.

Upon Steve’s insistence, you all end up at a local bar after work, along with Connie. After a couple of rounds, Steve takes Connie’s hand and leads her to the center of the floor for a half-drunken slow dance, leaving you alone with Peña. It’s been another long day, and with neither of you having much to say, you stay quietly seated at the bar next to each other. Some upbeat music blares in the background, but it’s not loud enough to drown out your thoughts. Peña doesn’t seem to mind the ambiance, though. His posture’s relaxed as he watches Steve and Connie haphazardly holding onto each other on the other side of the bar. They laugh a lot, and you’re happy that Steve’s able to enjoy a moment of peace.

You’re not drunk yourself, but the alcohol makes you brave. Things will never go back to normal at work if you don’t address the elephant in the room, and you can’t take the silence anymore—not here, or at work. There’s been enough tension with the bosses lately, and that alone is enough to exhaust you.

You don’t really know how to bring up that night. “Peña, I’m—” you mumble. You start to busy yourself by playing with the strap on your purse.

“Look, we don’t have to do this,” he quickly interrupts with a wave of his hand, but his tone is gentle. You wrinkle your brows, peering at him and biting your lip. He’s still holding his glass, taking a drag on his cigarette before meeting your eyes, as if he’s contemplating what to say himself.

“I’m...sorry. For the other night,” he says quietly. “It won’t happen again. We don’t have to talk about it.”

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this. You blink a few times and purse your lips, unsure of how to respond. “You don’t have to apologize for anything. I...get them, too. The bad dreams...” you start to ramble, massaging your fingers.

“That’s not what—” he stops and sighs. “I had too much to drink,” he mutters.

Is he serious? You scoff with disbelief, meeting his eyes as you take a sip of your drink. “Too much to drink? Peña, you drink like it’s your job, those few glasses you had were hardly anything.”

“I said we don’t need to talk about it,” he insists. He turns away and gestures for the bartender, asking for another glass. Why is he being like this? For fuck’s sake, you don’t expect him to pour his feelings out, but his stubbornness makes you want to scream sometimes.

“I just wanted to help,” you say, raising a hand in resignation. “I know I shouldn’t have...but you don't have to be alone,” you add quietly.

I don’t need any help with being alone. “I’m telling you it was nothing,” he reiterates, but his tone betrays his unease. He looks at you again and his eyes are almost pleading. “Please,” he whispers.

You want to believe him, believe that it means nothing so you can stop thinking about it—if this is what he wants, you’ll oblige. But it hurts a little all the same. You had thought he would be more open about what happened, because things definitely feel different now and you haven't the slightest clue what you're supposed to do about it—or if you should do anything at all, especially considering you'd only recently become more civil with each other. You exhale quietly and drop the subject. The loud bar music is the only thing saving you from a biting silence as you both down your drinks.

Javier slips off the bar stool when his phone starts to buzz. He could use the break right now, so he gladly takes the call, moving over to an empty corner of the bar to answer it.

“I’m glad you decided to answer,” the deep voice bellows.

“I told you not to call after hours,” Javier states firmly. “If we do this, we do it my way. You play by my rules, and that's one of them.”

“And I told you we have a common goal,” the man says. Javier stuffs his hand in his pocket, casually checking around him to make sure no one’s watching.

“Then why the hell are you calling me now?” He rubs his jaw with annoyance. “I thought the plan was settled.”

“There’s been a slight change of plans. We need another person—one to infiltrate the party. Someone those bastards won’t be suspicious of.” With the phone to his ear, Javier watches Steve and Connie from across the room. His eyes soften just a little when Steve whispers something into her ear, making her smile. It passes quickly when he turns his attention back to the call.

Javier runs a hand through his hair, clenching his jaw. “Too bad. You’ve got me.”

“No, Agent Peña. If we don’t get someone off-the-radar in there, this won’t work.”

He glances over at you, sitting on the bar stool. You’re slouched over, nursing your drink and shaking your head when the bartender asks if you want another. He bites his lower lip. “Yeah, well, you’re not getting my other partner in on this,” Javier contends.

“Come on, Peña. You know plenty of people—I’m sure you can find one who’s willing to help, for the right price.”

Javier frowns, momentarily reconsidering his decision to work with this asshole. He looks at you again, and then Steve, then to his shoes on the grimy tile floor.

“Yeah. I know someone,” he mutters, ending the call with a click.

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#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena #narcos fic #my ff #non sw

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selfilluminatingkyu · 4 years

Text

Dancing with the Devil(s): Chapter III

Previous|Current|Next

You don’t go searching for bones in a Lion’s Den. You just hope you don’t become a part of the pile.

F!Reader x Adult Trio; this takes place during the same timeline as Season 3 of HxH but the events with Kuropika and the crew are just shifted a little. Things will align back up within the next couple of chapters.

Warnings: Swearing; mentions of conditioning of a child (reader);

Word Count: 4.8K

After…whatever it was that had taken place with the members of the Troupe, Chrollo had placed you back into his study as he gave further instructions to the rest of the team, who you had been introduced to formally. You would have liked to say that the introduction had cooled your nerves a bit but that would have been a lie. If anything, it made you more anxious. The more you knew, the more susceptible you were to be considered a “loose end” and the likelihood of your impending death became that much more stark to you. Should you prove to be of no use to Chrollo or the rest of the Spiders, as you learned they were frequently called, your time would be clicking down on a timer.

You still weren’t entirely sure what had happened and what you had done that had proven to be so amazing that had the lot in such a tizzy. You’d spent at least an hour playing a continuous game of “hide and seek” as Nobunaga had dubbed it. Although, you weren’t entirely sure who was exactly supposed to be hiding, seeing you felt their presences the entire time. The only time you had been a little unsure was towards the end. Hisoka’s presence had wavered momentarily, as if he’d suddenly disappeared, but you’d taken in a deep breath and focused yourself only for him to pop back up again, like an object on a radar. Chrollo’s had also been faint at one moment towards the end but his aura had never truly gone away, not that you thought it was possible anyway. Not with how dark and menacing his was.

“I’m sorry for the delay, but it seems that there’s a new bounty on our heads and we didn’t collect all of the items for auction. There’s also some other matters to attend to.” You looked over your shoulder to Chrollo as he stepped back into the room. The information made you pause…you were certain that everything had been accounted for, for the first round.

His hair was messy in comparison to the slicked back style it had been earlier, and you mused that it made him look even younger and it suited him more. Looking at him you wondered how many people he’d disarmed and made comfortable with his looks and charm. In another life, he had to have been the eldest son to a very, very wealthy and powerful man.

Making a noise of agreement, you turned to look back outside. It was getting dark now. The brightest stars starting to pop up in the purple and pink hazed sky. It reminded you of all of the times you and your family went to the country side, away from the city and the light pollution, where you could look at the stars till your heart was content. More than once, you’d fallen asleep outside, wondering what other worlds were out there, what sort of people there were…if any of them ever felt like you did or were raised like you. In your head, there were other girls like you, who’d been raised the same and by some chance, you all ended up together, united and made sure it could never happen to another soul.

You were people, not property.

But that was a fantasy and this was reality and in this reality, you didn’t know when your time was up and so you’d decided that you would do whatever was necessary to be reunited with those you’d lost. You’d see your siblings again. You’d save them for your parents. You’d give them a better life, and all the unconditional love they deserved. No fear of being sold to the highest bidder in an effort for your parents to obtain something that was unlikely to act quench their thirst for more power, more money, just more.

“I don’t believe I ever actually asked you name…or how exactly it was you came to be among the items set for auction.” You jumped, so lost in thought that you hadn’t even register Chrollo. It wasn’t his voice that startled you, but the proximity of his mouth to your ear. He stood behind you, towering over you and making you feel smaller than you already did in his shadow.

“No, you didn’t. Not that anyone else did, to be frank. But it’s y/n. And I believe I briefly told you earlier how I came to be there. I’m the eldest of four and since a young age, my parents have always been complimented on how beautiful I was. I’m pretty sure from the moment I was born, they were told that they’d been blessed with a precious gem. They took it a little too seriously and decided that what other purpose was there for a gem than to buy them a bigger one? So…my parents figured to obtain more wealth, more power, more notoriety, they’d marry me off to the man or family that checked all of those boxes the most. So, they groomed me to be the perfect wife for a man of that caliber. I got all of the etiquette classes a lady of that birth ranking would get, along with ones that would place me outside of the pack. I had tutors for all of my studies and learned several languages. I was put under pressure and polished to perfection.

“At one point they were in discussions with a family, I was going to be married to their eldest son. I never met him, but I snuck into my father’s office one night and saw a photo of him and his family. While he seemed handsome enough, there was something peculiar about him that had me anxious before I’d even met him. But, while they had the money and power and notoriety…it wasn’t in the form my parents wanted. They wanted to be among those in high society, in the light where people on the street would whisper about them…not among the shadows like that family apparently was. So, my parents started again, except…no one was meeting their standards and the original family seemed to be the best offer they had…till there was someone else. I don’t know how the Don who bought me had heard of me, or how one of the others had, but he did and he was certain that he could tick all of the boxes my parents were trying to fill. So, they made a deal and suddenly I was being brought here to the auction.

“I was in a different room originally, by myself, in a suite. But the Don’s right hand man who’d been watching me prior to the auction came in flustered, talking about something going on and they moved me…which is where I was when…whatever sucked me and the rest of the items into a void happened and then I was backstage where the rest of the Troupe found me. And that’s it.” You turn to look at him and find that the look on his face has you turning around completely.

The man looks a mixture of furious rage and melancholy heartbreak…and it has you absolutely stumped as to why a man who has killed for sheer joy and amusement—as you’d realized after hearing their names and remembering the scarlet eyes—would look so pained over the story of a young woman being sold as a wife. It didn’t align with the character chart you had started creating in your head for him. No, it was just as peculiar as Hisoka looking concerned when Chrollo had ushered you away from the rest of the group, away from him.

Regardless, you stood and waited, waited for him to do or say anything so that you could gage how you were meant to react to him when suddenly he was looking at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“You do not have to worry about being sold to anyone. I’m not in the business of human trafficking.” The sincerity in his words should have calmed you, but it didn’t. You’d heard promises from other men before. Promises to run away with you; promises to marry you and give your parents what they so desired and to save you and your siblings.

But promises were made to be broken and you weren’t going to hold your breath that this man, lawless as he was, was any different than the rest.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You said stepping out of his grasp and moving out of arms reach. The moment felt far too intimate for someone you had just met, for someone who was essentially holding you captive as he’d made no mention of letting you go.

Chrollo dropped his arms and looked at you carefully, you could feel his eyes rove over you, and you wondered if he was appraising you as a woman or as a ward, either way it made your skin crawl and feel like a filly up for auction all over again.

“I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I’m sure there were people in your past who promised you things and never saw them through. Left you feeling more vulnerable and alone than you had prior to. I understand that, I have been there and been in the same place. The only family, the only true family I had was one I created by bringing together a bunch of misfits who sought to burn the world to the ground for the atrocities that we shared. We are bound by a common goal of watching the world, and the people who prosper from the neglect and despair of others, burn. While I have not been in your exact position, I can still understand where you are coming from.” You turn to look at him, eying him carefully as he continues on with his little speech. “I’ll give you two options. You can leave, right here, right now. I’ll take you wherever it is you want to go and that’ll be the end of it. If we see each other, or if you see any of the other members, we’ll act as if we have no idea who you are. However, I think there are things you want to accomplish, people you want to keep with you and as you are now, you won’t be able to accomplish those things.”

“So…what exactly are you suggesting?”

“Stay with us. Let me and the other members train you, tap into the clear raw ability you have. Earlier, the members were using a technique called zestsu. When highly capable Nen users are using this technique, their presence is nearly untraceable. However, when myself or other members of the Troupe do it, along with other high skilled hunters, we should completely disappear.” He says and the way his eyes light up as he describes this has you both intrigued but also unnerved. “You, who has no nen abilities or true knowledge, should not have been able to detect Feitain, Machi, Phink, Shalnark, or Nobunaga when you walked into the room. However, there wasn’t a single presence hidden from you. That’s not something even elite nen users can do, let alone you. And yet…you did and with seemingly no effort at all.”

You looked him over, knowing this offer was too good to be true, and what was it that he got in return out of this deal? The warning bells in your head were going off, telling you that while this deal seems to benefit you the most…you just knew that there was no way, shape, or form in which a man like him would allow any deal to benefit anyone other than himself.

So, you did the only thing you could do, ask.

“How do you benefit from this? It seems burdensome to take on a complete stranger who may have a disposition for high potential. But there’s no guarantee that my nen ability is anything other than this.”

Clearly, the man wasn’t used to his authority being question—although it wasn’t in your intention to do as such, you could see how it could be construed that way—and seemed to regard you in a new way. He was obviously amused by your honesty and total lack of trust in him and his intention. You didn’t see how he could blame you though. No honor among thieves was a saying for a reason and you very much doubted that him and his ragtag group of thieves, professionals and highly regarded in the underworld be damned, were just going to pull a 180 and do something out of the kindness of their hearts. At the end of the day, a thief was a thief and their word usually meant little. That was something you father had taught you early on. You had been too trusting as a child, wanting to see the good in everything, regardless of the bad.

“But papa, that doesn’t mean they’re all bad.” A much younger you had said innocently enough as you father had dragged you away from the group of older girls who had been trying to exploit your generosity.

“No, it doesn’t but you also need to realize that the majority of people do not have good intentions.” Crouching down in front of you, he’d grabbed on your shoulders and made you look directly into his eyes. “And those who never do, never will. Do you understand? You need to understand that you are very valuable, and to the wrong people could be a great bartering chip to be used against others. Make sure you can’t be.”

You honestly hadn’t understood exactly what he meant, but the message had stuck and several years later, you had known what he meant by it. People who proved themselves worthy of your trust could have it…but you always needed to keep it in your head that there were those who, despite proving themselves as friends, could be masked foes and you needed to have a plan in place should that occur. More often than not, you wondered if you were actually the wolf in sheep’s clothing simply masquerading as docile and inept, when really…you were probably the most calculating and tactile in the room.

“And what’s to say that you won’t use what I teach you against me, against us?” He asks, and you know he means it rhetorically, but you can’t help your biting response.

“You wouldn’t ever give me the opportunity.” Your response is lightening fast, coming out before he truly has even finished his question and you know you have truly piqued his interest now, again making you wonder how people truly viewed you. “I told you, I was raised for the sole purpose of being a formidable opponent to anyone who tried to harm by future husband…my mother was not lenient in her pursuits.”

“Indeed…that certainly is becoming clearer now.”

You’d come to an agreement with Chrollo. He, and the rest of the Troupe who wished to partake in your training, would do as such. He had already told you that his methods did not truly align with the “generally approved instruction” of other masters, but then again…when did anything he did?

But as of now, he told you to relax. Take a shower, get some food, sleep, he or one of the other members would come and find you once they’d returned back from the mission he’d sent them on. As for him, he had other things to attend to. His offer still stood, he’d said before he’d walked out the door, that should you choose that you did not want his help or that of the Troupe, he would respect it, but advised you to be gone before anyone got back or the training began. Because after that point, leaving was going to require you going through the front door and would more than likely be a battle with whomever was blocking it. Whether that be him or a different member, he didn’t specify, and you didn’t ask.

You were currently sitting in the tub; in the room he’d showed you as your own. It reminded you a lot of the room you had at the home your parents owned in the country. It overlooked a beautiful garden in the back and had windows that faced the east, so when the sun rose, you would too. There was an en-suite attached that was larger than you had ever seen before. Shower, tub, separate toil area, two sink vanity, and walk in closet to boot. You knew they had money, despite his comment that “money, power, and fame were not” what drove them to do what they did, it was clear that their endeavors were clearly not fruitless…no, not at all.

The moment you realized you were alone, you’d crawled into the tub, clothing and all and cranked the water to as warm as it would go and just sat there as the water rose. While you had a thousand thoughts zipping through your head…you couldn’t seem to latch onto one in particular, just staring at the water blankly.

You thought back to the comment he’d made when you’d walked back into the study after his little experiment. Apparently we didn’t get all of the auction items. While yes, that was true, they hadn’t gotten all of them as there were different rounds and the items showed up in waves so they wouldn’t be vulnerable to a heist—or so Yuuto had explained when you’d asked—the items for the first round had all be within the lot of goods the others had brought back. And you didn’t take Chrollo for wanting silly things like rare videos games…although it was a high ticket item.

So, all you could deduce from that was that this was a trap. A poorly set one, and one you were certain he’d already figured out but still, the members he’d sent, unless aware were walking into a trap and the Ten Dons had an artillery of their own, with weapons you were led to believe could even take on the Phantom Troupe.

Regardless of all of this information though…you couldn’t say you cared, nor did you care if you were questioned later as to whether or not there had been more items because while you didn’t think there were any, you couldn’t be certain, and it wouldn’t surprise you if there had been more. Someone didn’t become that powerful by being lax in their paranoia.

Maybe you could learn and thing or two from that mentality.

You don’t know how long you sat in the tub for. At some point the water became cold and your clothes began to rub you the wrong way. Thus, you took them off, throwing them away from your body, drained the water and stared the process over again.

Your skin was not only a pretty shade of pink and red, just about all over, but the pruning of it was beginning to feel uncomfortable not that it bothered you. It was a distraction, one you desperately needed. But it also made you think.

Made you evaluate your circumstances and try to figure out what exactly your plan of attack was going to be; what you could anticipate being Chrollo’s and the rest of the troupes’ motives and actions from here on out…and how you could use all of those pieces to your advantage. You need to uncover their weaknesses and find a way to exploit them. Maybe there was someone who knew them and you could mutually benefit each other?

“Think too hard and you might hurt yourself little dove.” Were you not as exhausted as you were, you might have jumped out of the tub when you heard Hisoka. No, instead you turned to look at him, leaning against the doorjamb leading into your room, idly shuffling through his deck of cards.

He looked at you through his lashes, coy smirk growing on his lips as he sauntered forward and again, it struck you that had you not been so exhausted, mentally, emotionally…physically, you probably would’ve jumped up or screamed at him to leave. But you simply did not have any reserved energy left to consider your modesty a priority.

You also doubted it would do you any good anyway. Hisoka didn’t strike you as the type to listen to a request like that anyway. He seemed to enjoy toying with people’s discomforts.

“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing thinking.” You mutter, turning away from him and sinking further into the water, nearly causing it splash out of the sides.

“Oh? Then what would you call it? Planning? Devising?”

“I’d call it a jumbled ball of messy thoughts that benefit me in no way.”

He hums at this, coming to sit on the floor beside the tub and you suddenly realize just how tall he is. The tub has to be at least two feet off the ground if not more, yet when he sits down, and slouches even, he’s still considerably taller than you. You would, under normal circumstances, have curled in on yourself in order to preserve your modesty. It was one thing for him to be standing in the doorway, your back to him and the hazy from the steam distorting your image in the mirror.

However, with him right here, next to you, there is nothing distorting your nakedness from his peering eyes. A nakedness that no man, outside a physician for the Dons’, has seen. But for the fact that you are too exhausted to care, you do not move to cover yourself more than your arms already had. You hadn’t realized that at some point, you’d curled back in on yourself again…maybe your subconscious was more conscious than you realized.

Despite all of this though, Hisoka turn himself so his back was towards you and in that moment you were struck by something. Most probably would’ve viewed this as trust, but you knew better. You hadn’t known this man for more than a moment. It wasn’t trust at all.

It was a silent assertion of just how weak he viewed you. How weak they all probably viewed you. For some reason this pissed you off. Rage flared low in your stomach and raced through you veins and clawed at your throat, questing to lash out at the closest target. However, your mind was quick to act and quell those feelings almost as quickly as they appeared. He was right, you were weak and lashing out at someone that much more powerful than you was not only reckless, but just plain stupid. You’d accomplish nothing on your best day as it was, not even including the fact that you were currently exhausted.

No, getting pissed off was misplaced in this situation…but it was a tangible force that could push you do work hard, to become a formidable opponent.

One in which Hisoka would never turn his back on.

As you both continued to sit there in silence, you couldn’t help but wonder if Chrollo had called him back to watch you. You thought it odd but not outlandish. You hadn’t taken Chrollo as a liar though and the offer to leave, while not something you were going to take him up on, seemed to vanish the moment Hisoka walked into the house or within a vicinity to spot you in your endeavors to vacate the premises before anyone got back.

But then you thought about what Chrollo had said. Leaving before anyone got back and scoffed, shaking your head, wondering how you could be so thoughtless.

“Something amusing little dove?” Hisoka poses, throwing another playing card towards the vanity. What he’s trying to hit, you’re not sure.

“Just realizing how inept my critical thinking skills have been lately.” His hesitation in throwing the next card relays to you his peaked curiosity, although he says nothing. “Chrollo told me I could leave should I chose to, but I had to do as such before anyone got back or prove that I was worthy of walking through the front door. At the time I thought nothing of it, assuming when he suggested I shower and sleep, that I’d have time to do those things. When you walked in, I wondered if he’d been lying but thought that odd because…I didn’t sense him lying.”

You pause and chuckle again. “No, he wasn’t lying…he just also wasn’t being entirely truthful either. He just left out the fact that you and whomever else returned with you wouldn’t be long after he left. Had I been paying attention, been thinking I would’ve caught that. I’m not entirely sure at what point I either reached such a level of exhaustion…or decided you lot were trustworthy enough to not care.”

The revelation had you looking up from your hands and the man sitting beside you. It also had you wondering what his purpose was for coming into the bathroom. You knew, now, that Chrollo hadn’t ordered him back; hadn’t given him instruction to watch you. No, Hisoka had come here of his own volition and you the question as to why was picking at your brain…and paranoia. Why would he come here? There was a piece to this puzzle that you were missing, and you couldn’t decide if it was because you just didn’t have the information or if it was again to your own obtuseness.

The thought niggled at the back of your head, running through scenario after scenario. Did he have a connection to someone you knew? Someone you had known? Was he a double agent working for the Dons and was keeping your close so that he could return you to them? No, that didn’t seem likely…but not the double agent part. You didn’t take him to follow orders from anyone; he didn’t seem like the type to play to play well with others for long.

“I’m starting to wonder if the steam is coming from the hot water or from in between your eyes little dove.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What is it you don’t understand?” He questioned, throwing another card and this time putting some force behind it as it cut into the vanity and stuck.

You were certain it was an intimidation tactic to indicate to you to tread lightly.

“Why you’re in here. I know Chrollo didn’t order you to be here, there’s no reason to place a guard on me. I’m sure he texted everyone telling them I wasn’t going anywhere, regardless of whether I’d come to that conclusion myself prior to or after he’d sent it. And I don’t take it anyone would just…wander in unwelcome. I’m sure there’s something, some presence around meant to keep those who don’t know better away…and those who do, a warning of fleeting life. And I’m not interesting enough to truly pique your interest. Maybe after I’ve spent some time learning nen and training. But as it stands, right not I’m of no consequence to you and so I don’t understand why you’re here.”

Taking in a deep breath, you realize that he’s completely stopped throwing the cards, and not because he’s out. No, he’s caused four more cards to stick to the vanity. The King of Spades, the King of Aces, the King of Diamonds, and then the Queen of Hearts are all standing up and a feeling goes through you that you can’t place. It warms you, and yet makes your blood run cold all at the same time and leaves you feeling a little lightheaded and dizzy. Maybe you’ve been in the bath for too long.

“You’re very perceptive little dove, more perceptive than anyone has realized…certainly far more intelligent than you’ve been given credit.” He stands and plucks the random card from the vanity, along with all those he scattered haphazardly on the floor but leaves the Kings and Queen. “I look forward to seeing how you ripen little dove. I’m certain that you will become…especially sweet when this is all said and done.” He chuckles lowly and in the back of his throat, the effect making you shudder, and not in a pleasant way, as he begins to leave before pausing and turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“I do have a question for you little dove.” He says and you hum, indicating that you’re listening. “What do you know of Illumi Zoldyck?”

#Dancing with the Devil(s)#fic #hunter x hunter #chrollo #chrollo fic #hisoka #hisoka fic #illumi zoldyck #illumi fic #reader insert fic

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jedi-order-apologist · 4 years

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- I know ol’ Palps is a big doodoo liar pants but one of his line stuck out to me and I’d like to share my thoughts. He says “The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way, including their quest for greater power.” Now, we obviously (hopefully) know that’s bullshit but I think it gives an interesting look into Papa Palp’s (and by extension, the Sith’s) philosophy on power in comparison to what we know about the Jedi. Hear me out. (1/3)

- The Jedi value and seek things like knowledge, wisdom, self-control, justice, and love. To them, these are powerful, however, these things are typically not associated with power—true power—in either our culture or the Sith’s. Be that as it may, in pursuing these things, the Jedi actually do gain power as it is traditionally defined, almost unintentionally. Jedi have combat skills enough to dominate most life forms in the galaxy, can influence the minds of other sentient beings, (2/3)

- and eventually even achieve immortality. These things are supremely powerful according to most definitions and yet they are not the type of power the Jedi actively seek for their own sake. But the Sith do seek them. And although they have the first two, the most of coveted of them—immortality—still eludes them. So from a certain point of view, Palps is right in saying both groups seek power. However what power means to each of them are very different. (3/3)

You could look at it that way, yeah - the Sith seek power to control others; the Jedi seek power to control oneself, and Palpatine either doesn't understand the difference or he's disingenuously conflating the two to manipulate Anakin (or both). But I think it goes further than that - the Jedi have power, yes, and they work towards developing their individual power as a means of using it responsibly, but they aren't obsessed with it or with gaining more like the Sith are. The Jedi have (or at least strive for) a healthy, cautious, balanced engagement with power - neither insisting on being powerless nor focused on being the most powerful there can be, but instead accepting where their power lies and how they can put it to use in the service of society, not over society.

I think Yoda's confrontation with Dooku in Yoda: Dark Rendezvous, where he challenges Dooku to turn him to the dark side, is an excellent demonstration of the difference in this attitude towards power between the Jedi and Sith:

“You want me to tell you about the power of the dark side?” Dooku said wonderingly.

Yoda had the dragon’s eyes again: half closed, gleaming under heavy lids. “Strong, strong the dark side is in this place,” he murmured. “Touch it you can, like a serpent’s belly sliding under your hand. Taste it, like blood in the air…Tell me of the dark side, apprentice.”

“I’m not your apprentice anymore,” Dooku said.

Yoda snuffed: laughed: stirred the air with his crooked stick. “You think Yoda stops teaching, just because his student does not want to hear? Yoda a teacher is. Yoda teaches like drunkards drink. Like killers kill,” he said softly. “But now, you be the teacher, Dooku. Tell me: is it hard to find the power of the dark side?”

“No. The lore of the Sith—that is another matter. But to touch the power of the dark side, to begin to know it, all you have to do is…allow yourself. Relax. We carry the dark side within ourselves,” Dooku said. “Surely you must know that by now. Surely even Yoda has felt it. Half of life, dark to balance light, waits inside you like an orphan. Waiting to be welcomed home.

“We all desire, Yoda. We all fear. We are all beset. A Jedi learns to suppress these things: to ignore these things: to pretend they don’t exist, or if they do, they apply to someone else, not us. Not the pure. Not the Protectors.” Dooku found himself beginning to pace. “To know the dark side is merely to stop lying. Stop pretending you don’t want what you want. Stop pretending you don’t fear what you fear. Half the day is night, Master Yoda. To see truly, you have to learn to see in the dark.”

“Mmmmmmmm.” Yoda hummed and grunted, eyes nearly closed now. “The dark side, power would give me.”

“Power over all. When you understand your own evils and the evils of others, it makes them pitifully easy to manipulate. It’s another kind of push-feather,” the Count said. “The dark side will show you the stiff places in a being. His dreads and needs. The dark side gives you the keys to him.”

“Hmph. Very fine that is, but Yoda has power,” the ancient Master said, examining his hairy toes. “I live in a palace bigger than this one, if I count the Temple as a palace. Dooku is a master of armies: but Yoda is a master of armies, too. So far, we are even.”

“Is there such a thing as too much power?” Dooku mused. “For instance,” he continued carefully, “there was a day when your power was clearly greater than mine. Today, however, I have waxed as you have waned. You stand in my citadel. I have at my command servants and droids and great powers of my own that I think would overwhelm even you. It is possible that at a single word, I could have you killed. And without you, how long would those dear to you last? I could have them, one by one: Mace and Iron Hand, Obi-Wan and precious young Skywalker, too. Surely you would feel safer if this were not so.”

Yoda cocked his head to one side. “Like Anakin, you do not?”

“Perhaps he reminds me too much of myself at the same age. Arrogant. Impulsive. Proud. I realize humility is high among the Enforced Virtues, the ones no one acquires by choice; but that being said, if Fate is looking for an instrument to humble Skywalker, I confess myself willing to volunteer.”

Yoda reached behind his back with his stick, trying to scratch a spot just between his shoulder blades. “Power over beings, need I not. What else can it give me, this dark side of yours?”

“What game are you playing here, Master Yoda?”Yoda smiled at the use of the term Master—curse him—and shrugged. “No game. Wasteful, this war is. Even you agree. Sent you the candle, did I: you know there can be coming home for you. Know this, both of us do, and if come back to the Temple you wish, I will take you there.”

“Very kind,” Dooku said dryly. “Decent of you to give me an arm to lean on.”

“Always catch you will I, when you fall,” Yoda said. “I swore it.”

Dooku flinched as if stung.

“But another way to solve the war there is. If you will not join with me, perhaps join with you I should. Tell me more,” Yoda said testily. “If power over beings need I not, what else can your dark side do for me?”

“What do you want?” Dooku snapped. “Tell me what you want and I will show you how the dark side can help you achieve it. Do you want friends? The dark side can compel them for you. Lovers? The dark side understands passion in a way you never have. Do you want riches—endless life—deep wisdom…?”

“I want…” Yoda held up the flower in his hand and took another sniff. “I want a rose.”

“Be serious,” Dooku said impatiently.

“Serious am I!” Yoda cried. He bounced to his feet. Standing on the desktop, he was almost as tall as Dooku. He held the flower imperiously toward his former pupil. “Another rose, make for me!”

“The dark side springs from the heart,” Dooku said. “It isn’t a handbook for cheap conjuror’s tricks.”

“But like this trick, do I!” Yoda said. “The trick that brings the flower from the ground. The trick that sets the sun on fire.”

“The Force is not magic. I can’t create a flower out of thin air. Nobody can—not you, not the Lord of the Sith.”

Yoda blinked. “My Force does. Binds every living thing, the Force I understand.”

“Master, these are games of words. The Force is as it has always been. The dark side is not a different energy. To use it is only to open yourself to new ways to command that energy, that have to do with the hearts of beings. Want something else. Want power.”

“Power have I.”

“Want wealth.”

“Wealth I need not.”

“Want to be safe,” Dooku said in frustration. “Want to be free from fear!”

“I will never be safe,” Yoda said. He turned away from Dooku, a shapeless bundle under a battered, acid-eaten cloak. “The universe is large and cold and very dark: that is the truth. What I love, taken from me will be, late or soon: and no power is there, dark or light, that can save me. Murdered, Jai Maruk was when the looking after him I had; and Maks Leem; and all the many, many more Jedi I have lost. My family they were.”

“So be angry about that!” Dooku said. “Hate! Rage! Despair! Allow yourself, just once, to stop playing at the game of Jedi Knight, and admit what you have always known: you are alone, and you are great, and when the world strikes you it is better to strike back than to turn your cheek. Feel, Yoda! I can feel the darkness rising in you. Here, in this place, be honest for once and feel the truth about yourself.”

At this moment Yoda turned, and Dooku gasped. Whether it was the play of the holomonitors, beaming their views of bleak space and distant battles, or some other trick of the light, Yoda’s face was deeply hidden in the shadows, mottled black and blue, so that for one terrible instant he looked exactly like Darth Sidious. Or rather, it was Yoda as he might have been, or could yet become: a Yoda gone rotten, a Yoda whose awesome powers had been utterly unleashed by his connection to the dark side. In a flash Dooku saw how foolish he had been, trying to urge the old Master to the dark side. If Yoda ever turned that way, Sidious himself would be annihilated. The universe had yet to comprehend the kind of evil that a Jedi Knight of nearly nine hundred years could wield.

From the shadows, Yoda spoke. “Disappointment like I not, apprentice,” he snarled, in a wicked, wicked voice. “Give me my rose!”

To Dooku, there is never enough power. It's a goal in and of itself, and he's convinced he can have anything as long as he has enough power, even impossible things like never again being afraid, and he frantically shifts around the goalposts when Yoda picks apart the flaws in his logic.

Yoda, on the other hand, recognizes the limits of power and is satisfied with that, with what he has. And it's Yoda who has the much healthier outlook, here, who "wins" this debate. He doesn't turn to the dark side (what Dooku sees at the end of the excerpt is only a vision), and he renders Dooku very conflicted about the dark side (at least until Anakin shows up, and Dooku is so offended by Anakin's existence and his own conviction that Yoda likes Anakin more than him that he throws a fit and jumps right back into the dark side).

#the-redcapesarecoming #discussion #yoda dark rendezvous #on the force #in defense of the jedi #on the dark side #on jedi philosophy #yoda #dooku

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diamondcitydarlin · 4 years

Text

I am just...honestly fascinated by this sudden ‘change of heart’ with Guillermo tho in regards to being a familiar and becoming a vampire, there’s a lot going on there and a lot to unpack, and I’m hoping somewhere in the depths of what is about to be a long, directionless rant I’ll find the clarity I haven’t seemed to quite grasp yet.

ALSO I’M SORRY THIS IS A LOOONG ASS POST BUT I DIDN’T WANT TO PUT IT UNDER A READ MORE AND SUBJECT INNOCENTS TO MY BLOG LOL, BUT I’VE TAGGED ACCORDINGLY

So, I already made a post about ‘Collaboration’ and some of the interesting subtext we get within that episode. Mainly, that this episode is an interesting one for Guillermo because he finally gets what appears to be and should be (at least at first) the opportunity he’s always been waiting for. To this point, across seasons, Guillermo has driven home that his one and only aspiration in life, the reason he tolerates an endless, shitty position, is because he hopes to become a vampire. He’s wanted it since he was a kid. IF HE CAN’T BECOME A VAMPIRE, WHAT HAS THIS ALL BEEN ABOUT??

If it was as simple as just wanting to become a vampire by any means necessary, leaving Nandor for this golden opportunity should have been as easy as taking off an ill-fitting pair of shoes...but it wasn’t that, was it? When Nandor pretended to shuck him off as if it didn’t matter, Guillermo got angry and sad in equal measure and only really brightened again when Nandor came back and promised to do better by him. Not necessarily set down a concrete timeline for the ‘becoming a vampire’ thing though, but Guillermo didn’t seem to care about that all that much anyway. Interesting.

Now we’re able to see a version of things in which Guillermo is being treated better as a familiar, but rather than this development improving his mood he seems all the more aware of the fact now that...maybe he doesn’t even want to be a vampire anymore. Maybe he’s wasting his time here. Maybe he needs to swim towards open waters, so to speak.

Very similar to Nandor, Guillermo, I think, is not really aware or fully accepting of the inner workings of his own mind. He strikes me as a character that does a lot in the way of burying the truths of himself so far down, he even convinces himself that part of who he is doesn’t really exist- even when it does, and drives a lot of his actions. The show plays to this by only ‘showing’ us concretely how much Guillermo wants us to know, with only small hints and nods to other things going on. That fits and rings true to the norm for a mockumentary style of filming/writing, in that the audience has to rely on a lot of subtle cues from the subjects to figure out what’s ‘really going on’ with a character or plot line; the ‘camera’ in a mockumentary style piece is as much of a visceral, present character as anyone else in the cast and is treated accordingly (but then, like 99.99999% of human beings have seen the entirety of The Office and Parks and Rec, so yall know this already)

I think part of the way to figuring this all out is to ask why Guillermo wanted to be a vampire in the first place. His answer to this would probably be something along the lines of ‘because they’re cool’ which, you know, valid. That would be a fitting and satisfying answer if, say, I had given it because there was a time when I was about 4-6 years old that I, too, decided I would grow up to be a vampire. Because it was ‘cool’ and aspiring to anything else seemed boring. Again, valid. For someone who has dedicated pretty much ALL of his adult life to apprenticing into vampirism based on a childhood dream that never died? THAT begs a bit more of an in depth reason, I think, to which for now we can only guess.

I’ll try to make an educated one based on what I believe is going on here, that Guillermo himself is either not aware of or not ready to share with the cameras: I believe his drive to want to become a vampire, given it was based in childhood flights of fancy (and probably some Guillermo-self insert/Armand fanfics, let’s be hONEST) was rooted in a need to feel respected and powerful, at the heart of things. When we first meet Guillermo, and for much of season 1, we see that he’s quiet, subservient, meek, and we learn briefly about how he was bullied in school. I think Guillermo was raised to be this way and use silence/subservience as his only defense mechanism, which may also go a long way to explaining why he’s so reserved. For 10 years, I think it was enough for him to tell himself that everything would be better for him once he became a vampire, he’d have all the things he never had as a human. Respect. Appreciation. Power. Control over his own life.

That said, things have changed quite a bit for Guillermo since season one. While learning that he had Van Helsing blood came as an unpleasant shock, embracing and exploring that side of himself proved that he’s actually kind of a bad ass even without being a vampire. He only ever wielded this power to protect Nandor and others so far, but it is a power nonetheless, this agility and strength that is too great for even VAMPIRES to successfully fight back against. He’s also a smart cookie that knows how to manipulate a situation, something that he’s been using a lot this season too. So, power, then. He has it already. Respect he received from his vampire-hunting group.

But that still leaves appreciation and, dare I say it, maybe even affection/love. I think there’s a part of Guillermo that wants to feel like he’s accepted and cared for, but even when it’s offered (by groups like his vampire hunting clan, or Celeste’s vampire community lol) he seems to shy away from it going too far, like it’s just too much or ill-fitting coming from people he barely knows. Given that he’s a private, introvert type this makes sense.

One thing has remained consistent for Guillermo though, across both seasons and episodes, and that’s his seemingly unwavering concern and affection for Nandor. Even in this last ep when he’s unashamedly shucking off duties that don’t fit his job description and maintaining those professional boundaries like a BOSS, he still snaps to and gets to work the moment Nandor is kidnapped. Laszlo’s gone? Meh, who cares, not his jurisdiction. Nandor’s gone!?? Fuck it, he’s getting the keys. A ‘vampire’ offers him the opportunity of a lifetime to become a vampire quickly and live within an accepting community of likeminded people and Nandor told him ‘go for it’? He’s upset that Nandor didn’t fight harder to keep him.

So now he’s back and Nandor’s making a consistent effort not to abuse Guillermo’s position. This seemed the ideal resolution at the end of ‘Collaboration’, but after a couple of weeks it becomes clear that it wasn’t. For some reason. Guillermo’s no longer satisfied and thinks maybe it’s time to do more with his life.

I’ll try to sum up the points I’ve made so far into a concise version of where I think Guillermo’s at right now, at least subconsciously; mostly all the things he hoped that turning into a vampire would grant him, have already been granted. He’s learned that he’s strong, smart, capable as is, more than he or anyone else had ever given him credit for. I think it makes sense that his burning need to become a vampire has begun to ebb into a quarter-life crisis of questioning who he really is and what he really wants, because the dream he nursed for so long has turned out to be pretty shallow and maybe not even necessary. He realizes there’s more he could be doing than working tirelessly to an end goal that no longer seems so sweet.

But that leaves the ‘affection’ and ‘acceptance’ elements dangling in space, held up by his own affection for Nandor that has yet to be really defined. It’s pretty clear that Guillermo is nursing it hard, but what is the nature of it? Even as his sense of loyal devotion to a cause has started to fade, even as his view of Nandor as this unflappable role model has begun to disappear too bc he’s starting to see Nandor for who he really is (a himbo idiot that he can outwit, outmatch without even trying hard) this raw affection still remains. It’s still important that Nandor fights for him. It’s still important that Nandor is safe and protected.

And, as with the rest of these things I mentioned, I don’t think Guillermo is even really aware of how much he cares about Nandor, how much it drives his actions and thinking, how important that relationship is to him. It’s easier to just sort of...ignore that and pretend it isn’t a factor, that’s Guillermo’s modus operandi when it comes to complicated feelings.

I think back to that line from season 1, wherein Guillermo’s kind of musing wistfully about how different his life might have been if he’d stayed at Panera Bread/in a stable job with pay and benefits, but then handwaves that all away with ‘The heart wants what it wants’. By this point in the show he was already kind of drifting away from the goal of becoming a vampire (whether he realized it or not).

The heart wants what it wants indeed, Guillermo, but maybe it’s not really ‘becoming a vampire’. Maybe it’s something else entirely that keeps you tied to this house, this thankless ‘job’.

At this point, I really cannot say for 100% certain what I think will happen next with Guillermo. This show has proven solid at pulling out unexpected plot twists I wouldn’t have seen coming, but then, I also have been pretty good at predicting where they’re gonna go with things. Like 7/10 lmao. My two theories right now are:

He’ll become a vampire in the series finale- unwillingly, maybe by accident. This one I think is plausible because it’s a bit of a kick in the pants. It’s the outcome he’s wanted for SO LONG but has just realized maybe it’s not all he can do or wants to do. I could see a situation where, idk, maybe Guillermo expresses to Nandor his thoughts lately about moving on from this and, in an act of stupid desperation, Nandor thinks maybe if he changes him that’ll keep him in his life, so he does it while Guillermo’s asleep and then surprises him when he wakes up...only to find out maybe that wasn’t actually what he wanted anymore, but UH OH what’s done is done. This could provide a lot of tension in the next season, I think. But as it’s a bit of a ‘shocking’ twist type route to go, I can’t be certain this is what they’ll do. Kind of a toss up.

Guillermo leaves to pursue something else, which the camera crew will follow and document. This is the ‘sensible’/’safe’ route that most scripted shows would take, I think, in this situation...but again, I’m not certain about this one either because Shadows is known for throwing us for a loop and this seems a liiiittle predictable. It’s also very similar to what JUST happened in episode 8 and, were I writing the show, I’d worry it would come across as redundant. Like, maybe we already did this angle and should explore other options to keep the audience on their toes. Also, as much as they love putting Harvey with new casts of characters for episodic stories, I’m not sure they’d transplant him from the main cast for an extended period of time because he’s part of what makes that dynamic run so well. But then, the synopsis of the finale does say that vampires have to ‘survive without Guillermo’ while preparing for an event, so this may happen in some small, episodic measure again.

Anyway, to wrap this up into a conclusion, I don’t think I’m wrong in predicting that Nandor/Guillermo’s relationship has been set up in such a way as to keep us guessing, sort of a Sam/Diane, will-they-won’t-they type thing that will remain a constant throughout whatever happens next, but will require both characters growing independent of each other in their own respective subplots. At this point, it has always remained consistent that Nandor and Guillermo prioritize each other even when it doesn’t make sense, but I don’t think either of them are ready to realize, accept, and sort through the layers of what they feel for each other. The master/servant dynamic makes that difficult, I’d imagine, so I think inevitably we’ll see the show start to pull them away from that. All I’m saying is, if whatever is going on between them wasn’t VERY complicated it would’ve been resolved as whatever it is a long time ago. Nah, there’s some deep, repressed shit they’re ignoring collectively for whatever reason, and usually that points to something that will, at some point, become romantic. Either way, to understand Guillermo is to keep a close eye on how his dynamic with Nandor grows and changes and I’m, as ever, VERY eager to see how it does.

#guillermo de la cruz #nandor x guillermo #guillermo x nandor #wwdits #what we do in the shadows tv show #long post #meta

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