#never cry in public under normal circumstances | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwajin · 2 years

Text

#!! - 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ; ʙᴏʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀᴇ

— 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : soulmate au, non idol au, angst (in this chapter)

— 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : chan x fem!reader, hyunjin x fem!reader

— 𝐰𝐜 : 2.6k

— 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : a nameless stranger, an urgent force that seemed to pull you towards him. and as wrong as it was he left you curious and wondering.

— 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : I'M SO HYPED TO BE FINALLY POSTING THIS if it won't get any feedback i will cry so if you like this PLEASEEE please tell me!!! ENJOY READING <333

series masterlist | next chapter

You never much believed you'd be one to find real love, no matter how much you might be wishing, longing for it. Various of your playlists filled with songs about a certain someone, about this giddy and youthful feeling, your bookshelves stacked with writings and poems about the greatest feeling of them all. Your heart skipping a beat whenever a kiss appeared on the cinema screen before you, and lovers in public, whether holding hands or pecking, swelled up your chest, without you being the one loved. Because ironically, and much to your dismay, you alone felt like the odd one out. Spending Valentine’s Day alone year after year, barely knowing how it feels to have your lips on someone else's. Wondering if the books and songs talked about realness after all, or if everything you've thought to know about love was simply put, a delusion, not fit to be experienced outside of fiction and people's minds.

And still, your wish for that certain someone, your longing to feel the loving touch of a soulmate, of a passionate lover, never fully seemed to leave you, despite knowing it was naïve and childish thinking. And surely, it had to be too good to be true, altogether. The touch of a soulmate that was supposed to bound two people together – how did that work, anyway? It was an old myth you nothing but adored as a young teen, growing to despise it the older you got, and the more relationships happened to disappoint you. When you’ve thought you found your supposed twin flame – another person, whose soul was a part of your own and got separated from you at birth, only meant to reunite again by a simple touch – that same person ended up leaving a gash right to your heart, for you alone to heal and fix. So how could you possibly continue to believe, to hope? How were you supposed to not grow acceptance that maybe, just maybe, no one walking this planet had a designated someone, that each and every person simply had to love semi passionately, never as carelessly and freely as they did – pretended – in the arts? In books and movies and poems and songs?

Strolling around the supermarket a couple streets down your block you didn’t look for anything in particular, only hunting for some snacks to accompany the movie night you had planned with Chan a little later in the day. From the get-go, you had to admit that you weren’t too hopeful in terms of your boyfriend’s availability, neither for tonight nor any other day you might have planned to spend together for the rest of the year. The last time you had an actual date, one where the two of you actually ate and talked together, actually ended up cuddling and making out back at home before fucking the whole night, seemingly unable to get enough of each other, of the closeness and intimacy, of the passion and love – that was ages ago, you could barely remember. Recalling, it must have been a birthday or anniversary, Valentine’s Day, maybe. Because under normal circumstances, on a usual and regular day, Chan barely ever had the time to go all in for a simple date. Which admittedly, you’ve been fine with at the very beginning of your relationship. You knew what you were going into, knew that he was a hardworking man, always busy, his future and career prioritised. And you admired him for it, for as long as you could remember – until you didn’t, almost out of the blue. Until suddenly the loneliness you felt due to his absence at nights became unbearable, leaving a cold hole next to you on the bed and right at your chest, and until his texts and phone calls got shorter and shorter, always promising for a later but never keeping word. You never blamed him, never painted him as the bad guy – you were two people with two packages filled to the brim with duties and jobs and problems that you carried around while trying to simply get by, and that alone was hard enough, you knew and understood. Yet, you couldn’t help but wonder if any of it was worth it, truly. You knew you loved Chan, maybe not the same you did when you first met but the adoration towards him was something you were sure of. There has been a time you'd called him your twin flame, even – he was the one partner you never doubted from the very first start, the one partner that seemingly fit to you like a puzzle piece, neat and even and perfect. You’ve surely never felt any initial spark, any indicator that he might have been your twin flame after all – no indicator that the myth held truth. But then again, you never much believed in that part of the saying after all – you weren’t supposed to feel sparks, sensations when touching another human’s body; that’s not how it worked biologically and that’s surely not the way to make out your ideal significant other. A myth remained nothing but a myth after all, and certain things were simply not bound to happen to people in everyday life.

That time, the blooming and warm days when you had set your mind on Chan and the pure staunchness that he alone must be the right one, that you would spend your remaining days with him and only him were long gone though, and it got you thinking. It got you thinking because you’ve been oh so sure of Chan, so determined that he must be the one, until those feelings changed, which you’d never think possible. So, what if twin flames, you thought while grabbing a pack of Chan’s favourite chips and throwing them into your bag, ended up falling out of love as well, just like any other couple could? What if the old tale overlooked a crucial detail in its storytelling and simply forgot that people were still people nevertheless, and that the lives they lived and the way they loved only called for accidents to happen, for feelings and emotions to change and for relationships to deepen, or drift apart? And what if Chan has truly been your twin flame at some point years ago, but it simply never worked the way it should have, the way the both of you would have wanted it to? Twin flames; didn’t the name alone call for the end of all? Wasn’t the name the one and greatest indicator that said flames, the fire, the burning and passion – the love – could run out, be gutted and leave a cold space right where your heart sat? Was that the truth and end of the myth that everyone who knew was simply too cowardly to speak of?

You grabbed a bag of your own favourite snack and slowly made your way to the cash register. Then what was love all about, anyways? If people fall in love as quickly as they fall out of it, if the flame dims down with time and leaves you with memories of a past life, the only question is whether or not people are brave enough to leave those memories, or if they stay buried in them, buried with the one whom they once called their everything. If they’d stay simply for the sake of convenience and habituation, out of fear. Because surely, a person wasn’t bound to have multiple twin flames, after all. If there is only one person, one soul that knows you all, inside and out, this one twin flame you burn with until there is nothing left to burn, until the embers simply start gnawing at you without love and passion left; if there is only this person for you that is able to deify as strongly as this, even if temporary and not forever – you wouldn’t leave that person, would you? Because what was it worth, after all; even if the love ran out, and even if nothing was left to give – you’d only find the same lacking feelings in another lover, because that’s what the myth called. Because there’d be no one else to give you devotion so grand a second time.

You put your groceries on the checkout belt, fishing for your wallet at the very bottom of your bag. You cursed under your breath, finally feeling the soft material of fake leather right before the cashier told the price you had to pay. It was ironic – because surely, which price would you pay? You couldn’t possibly imagine ever leaving and wandering around, searching for something that would never be, so the only other option, whether you wanted it or not, was to endure loneliness in a relationship that once bloomed fields of flowers. The option that meant a never-ending empty space next to you on the bed, forever cancelled plans and nothing of the once known tenderness that you oh so adored and believed to be something permanent, something you’d never have to fear of losing.

You shuddered at the thought of it, at the thought of that being your future, of it being the destiny that’d wait for you, and with a quick shake to the head, as though that would clear your worries, you started packing the food and drinks into your bag, messily, without much system. You couldn’t care less if your other stuff laid atop of the chips, or if the cookies you decided to get for the date night would crush down under the weight of the rest of your groceries. Though Chan would sulk at you for it – there was seemingly nothing he hated more than crushed down chips in a plastic bag. You scoffed at the thought alone, earning an unreadable look from the cashier before he smiled and bowed a polite goodbye, wishing you a good week. He looked almost nervous, blush accentuating his cheeks and ears as though caught red handed when you noticed him staring at you. He must be in school still, probably a part timer. You quickly wished back a nice day, wondering if he ever worried about the things that seemed so all destructive to you. If he ever, as young as he was and only a student after all, spent sleepless nights questioning himself if he’d ever have the chance to die happily with another person by his side, or if life simply wouldn’t grant him that wish. Though, you didn’t know if that was his wish after all. It was yours, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe, you thought, only the fewest people had the wish to die with a partner by their side anyways and therefore couldn’t care less about soulmates, let alone twin flames – maybe that was a wish only for the foolish, simply for people stupidly blinded by the delusory picture of love. To your dismay you were one of them, led astray by something that was cruel and gruesome behind closed curtains, and led to heartbreak and shed tears more often than not. And yet, you were hopeful. You depicted yourself with someone that would be with you, not only physically but in every form possible, that would love you without running out of patience to show you every single day anew. Yet perhaps, that same hope was the stupidest thing of all, the thing that would destroy you from inside out.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket, and a quick look at the display showed your boyfriend’s name. It was saved with a heart right to it, and it made you chuckle, reminisce almost about when you first got his number, and then when you added the heart later on. You felt so dumb back then yet so stupidly in love that you couldn’t possibly not change his name in your contacts after your very first kiss, and you haven’t had the mind to go back to a plain old “Chan” ever since. Though it’d seem more fitting now, his name without a heart. You faintly wondered if Chan still had a heart next to your name in his phone before picking up the call.

“Hey, where are you?”

His voice was almost monotone, giving you no clue of the reason he called you while you were out for groceries. You expected bad news, and you felt guilty for it, almost.

“At the store, I bought snacks and drinks for later-… why? Did something happen?”

A sigh on the other end was all that you needed to know your expectations were to be true. And it scared you how cold it left you, unbothered and untouched by the words Chan was about to say, while the weight of the bag around your shoulder dragged you down further by the minute.

“Listen, I- I’ll sound like the shittiest boyfriend, but I have some work left I have to finish. It was super last minute, just got a call from Changbin to come and help him in the studio. I’ll try to not be too late, alright? Maybe- we can like… I don’t know when you’re free next time…”

Chan's voice suddenly got quiet, faintly distanced from you as you felt a cold breeze, a sensation, you might say, wash past you, almost pulling you back into the store again, fully disorienting you and shaking up the ground beneath your feet. You looked back, checking if someone had walked past you and into the shop and accidently pushed you, though it wasn't a touch you had felt – yet even then, the seeming force that drove you back, that completely took you out of your body even for short felt so unnatural, too strong to be caused by a person crossing your way. It was beyond physical, the feeling of it – somehow it felt deeper, an urge you’ve never come across prior, and before you knew it you met eyes with a stranger. He looked just as shaken up as you, pupils wide and brows slightly scrunched, creasing in the middle. He was stopped in his tracks, body as though moving forward yet held back by something he seemed unable to control, something that was pulling him your direction, just like you got pulled towards his. And then you simply smiled, after eye contact that felt like it lasted for ages on end, and he smiled back, a pretty smile that made you wish for that eye contact to hold on for just a little longer. But Chan's voice suddenly sounded in your ears again, and the boy in the store disappeared behind shelves, continuing his business.

“Babe, you there? I asked if you’re free next week sometime to make up for tonight?”

Your boyfriend's voice, though having all your attention now, was still far away to you, as though you muted it out to focus on your surroundings better, to have his words play only in the back of your head, behind glass.

“Yeah sure- we'll see... take care.”

Your own voice sounded almost abnormally clear to you, and your head felt the same. The worries that occupied you just moments prior – the disappointment yet general indifference to Chan cancelling on you, the fear of your future with him – or without him, therefore – the feeling of monotony creeping its way into your everyday life – it all felt so strange now, almost absurd that you ever even wasted a thought on it at all. Chan brabbeled a chain of excuses into the phone that you accepted with only hummed yeses, not actually listening, simply waiting to hang up on him. And while you couldn’t possibly imagine the stranger in the store to be the cause for all of it, for his eyes to be the reason you forgot about Chan and his smile to be the trigger for your calmness, you didn’t understand why your body turned around yet again, though not expecting to catch a look at him, still hoping you would maybe find his dark eyes one more time, nonetheless.

@doll4hyun @iwannabangchan @hwangful @whatudowhennooneseesyou @inkybird @yejis-biggest-simp @seungminluv3 @skzddicted @marslovescats @berryblog @beautifullywrecked-aeris @moonlightcandy00 @hyynes @nightrayseishina @199719932000 @shrub31201 @yoamimi @wednesdayswife @hyuneisbae @lovhyunj @ladytrbl @danyxthirstae01 @someoneinlovve @lili-kims-blog @rachagen @koorminii @good-soup3023 @shiru-chan @karaquestionable @blahbluhblahbluh @laryisthinking @knisterlicht @studyingthemind @ppiri-bahng @septicrebel @gimmemoredoritos

#skz scenarios #skz angst #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #hyunjin angst #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #bang chan scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff

335 notes · View notes

kunikidas-lost-glasses · 1 year

Text

Nikolai saving Fyodor - Fyolai Drabble

HEAVY SPOILERS FOR BSD SEASON 5 AND ESPECIALLY FOR BSD SEASON 5 EPISODE 11 UNDERNEATH

Nikolai didn't gave Dazai and Fyodor poison in this. There was some other stuff in the injections but no poison. He just wanted to make the game more interesting and funky/entertaining.

Important to note: This drabble is connected to my BSD Fix-It AU with the only change being the circumstances under which Nikolai saved Fyodor and the reason why Dazai told Atsushi to write down that Fyodor would lose his ability.

It's not needed to necessarily read my other post in order to understand this post.

It's only important to know that the ADA managed to obtain the page and that Dazai told Atsushi to write on it that Fyodor would lose his ability. He knew about the consequences it would have and while he hoped that Fyodor was gone for good, he wanted to make sure that if he would really somehow manage to come back, he wouldn't try to start a war again, not trusting him at all.

This AU works with the theory that Fyodor is highly influenced by his ability.

TWs (PLEASE take them seriously): Mentions and descriptions of blood (a lot of blood), descriptions of injuries, panic, crying (a lot of crying), medical procedures, descriptions of being in pain, mentions of fever, mentions of getting sick, mentions of the medical procedure of stitching up/suturing wounds, descriptions of treating wounds, descriptions of struggling with loosing the ability to use one hand, descriptions/mentions of utterly neglecting oneself, slightly implied depersonalization/derealization, slight mention of feeling numb, mentions of death, mentions of being heavily influenced by something, short slight mention of one of Nikolai's graphic crimes (they were mentioned when the ADA took his case), mention of scars

Maybe a bit ooc. (I understand the characters I swear. I just enjoy writing stuff which is a tiny bit ooc to allow more fluff to happen. However I tried to make it not extremely ooc though.)

(I did bend the rules of legitimacy/reality a bit in regard to treating the injuries in order to make this possible as well as a bit more easier to write.)

It's all hurt/comfort tho and it does have a lot of fluff towards the end. I promise.

Word count: 6341 words in total

He didn't know what came over him but before the helicopter crashed into the tower of the prison, Nikolai used his ability to drag Fyodor into one of his portals.

Dazai and Chuuya didn't notice him using his ability.

As soon as Chuuya and Dazai left, entering the prison one more time in order to get Sigma out of there, hoping that he would be still alive, Nikolai hectically opened up a portal himself and used it to rush into one of his many hideouts in which he had teleported Fyodor

Nikolai had never felt so glad about all the different little hideouts he had everywhere where Fyodor would be in case he needed him for a plan.

Searching a hotel room where he could try to save the Russian would become quite difficult and bringing him to a hospital while both of them were wanted criminals (one of them on the run and one of them officially pronounced dead to the public) wasn't something he could do.

Nikolai wasn't thinking clearly anymore when he arrived in the shabby little house which he called his hideout and which he had purchased under one of his many many fake identities.

In fact, he wasn't really thinking at all anymore. At least not what he would normally think.

He always expected that if he would ever see Fyodor dying, he would be filled with a sense of relief, a happy and freeing feeling, knowing that he finally reached his goal and became free.

However now this wasn't the case at all.

The only things he felt were panic and some kind of denial.

He couldn't believe what had just happened. In one minute he was chatting with Fyodor who was sitting well and alive in the helicopter, his mind already filled with excitement, imaging their upcoming new game which would have something just between them and the next minute Fyodor had been stabbed in the stomach with a metal bar which was pinning him in place, his white prison suit was covered in red, thoroughly soaked with his own blood while his body was shaking and his voice was filled with pain.

Never once had Nikolai seen Fyodor in this much pain, never once had he seen the emotions of his dear friend written so clearly and openly all over his face and not once had he himself felt so awful before. Not once has he felt such fear while his own life wasn't in danger at all.

He had felt utter sadness and heartbreak before, yes. But not such a nearly hysterical panic.

It was deep, painful sadness which ran through his veins, squeezing his heart together when he had noticed that the eyes of his childhood friend with whom he had lived together on the streets and with whom he fell in love became more hazy, losing all the light in it and when his tiredness and mature character which came from all the trauma he already had to go through since a young age slowly turned into a harsh cold personality.

Nikolai could do nothing when Fyodor's ability started to take over his friend more and more as they grew older, influencing his mind and with that his personality as well as his actions thoroughly, seemingly merging Fyodor Crime and Punishment until Fyodor slowly became a part of his ability himself. Cold, cruel and harsh.

He could only watch as Fyodor started to act and when Punishment would take over completely for short periods of time. He was unable to do anything, knowing that the ability itself was just as intelligent as the one who wielded it.

Still, he knew exactly when Fyodor, even though his mind was still heavily influenced, was coming through more and still he knew exactly that the goal was to get rid of all ability users and with that all abilities came from his Fyodor.

Surprisingly, he couldn't bring himself to love Fyodor any less, despite his more cold and cruel personality.

The sadness however, still ran deep.

But he had never felt any panic and fear like this. Not when his own life wasn't in danger.

He had expected that the moment he would see Fyodor dying would bring him joy but the expected joy was a feeling of panic and denial which clouded all his mind and made it hard to think straight and instead of feeling a sense of victory upon seeing Fyodor's face twisted in pain, he felt sick to the stomach when he saw him spitting out a concerning amount of blood, feeling like vomiting himself.

If he could think straight, he would have possibly wondered why his mind wasn't acting up, refusing to try to treat his friend in order to reach his goal but now, he only could think about saving his friend, hoping that it wasn't too late.

He rushed into the bedroom in which he had placed Fyodor on the little bed, nearly tripping twice on his way due to running so fastly through the hallways.

Upon finally reaching the bedroom, seeing his friend, he felt his heart sink.

By now, Fyodor had fully passed out, his body lying limp on the bed. His face was covered in cold sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead and the now visible large stab wound was bleeding like crazy.

If Nikolai wouldn't have been used to seeing very disturbing things, he would have probably vomited but even now he still felt incredibly sick, not due to the injury but from seeing his dear friend like this.

For a short moment, he stood next to the bed like frozen before quickly bending down to check if Fyodor was still breathing and if he still had a pulse.

He knew that the chances were slim and he nearly didn't dare to check but he had to.

Upon feeling a faint pulse and upon feeling Fyodor breathing even though it were small and uneven breaths which he took, he felt like a giant weight got lifted off his heart, which felt like it was close to shattering in thousands of pieces, breaking beyond repair anyways.

However, he still couldn't feel real relief until he knew that Fyodor was in a stable shape again.

He knew that he had a lot to do now, knowing that he was still alive but he had barely any time due to Fyodor bleeding out at a rapid speed from his stab wound but also from his injured hand and the wound where Sigma had shot him.

Trying to frantically stop the bleeding through applying pressure to the wound, Nikolai remembered the trick he did with Sigma when the latter was bleeding out from where he was shot.

Sigma's injury had been way smaller, he had lost much less blood and he wasn't in such a bad shape as Fyodor at all but he knew that doing this trick once again, would at least give him some more time.

Carefully, he pushed Fyodor into his portal before looping him through the two portals which he had opened up, slowly letting some blood flow back into his body.

This time, he was much more careful than he was with Sigma and it didn't bring him any kind of entertainment at all.

He also reduced the distance between the two portals to being as small as possible, not wanting to let Fyodor fall through the air longer than needed.

After being sure that Fyodor had more blood in his body again, he quickly lifted him back on the bed, using his ability once more to grab the box in which he stored all his medical supplies from the bathroom, not wanting to waste any time and not wanting to leave Fyodor's side.

As soon as he held the box in his hands, he placed it on the bed, opening it with shaky hands and grabbing one of scissors inside of it in order to cut open the prisoner suit in order to treat Fyodor.

After cutting the remaining parts of the upper half of the jumpsuit open, he grabbed a cloth from the bathroom with his ability, pressing it onto the wound, trying to stop the bleeding while trying not to worry about the fact that Fyodor didn't even flinched or made any pained noise upon Nikolai putting pressure on the large wound on his stomach.

Nikolai himself was only taking short hitched breaths anymore as he watched how the previously brightly colored cloth slowly got soaked in the blood of his dearest friend, turning more and more red with every passing second.

After some time, of trying to slow down the bleeding and after using the portal loop a couple of times more to give him more time, he finally had the bleeding a bit under control which meant that he now came to the part he feared the most.

Nikolai had treated many wounds before.

He had been the one to clean and stitch up Sigma's wound while they were in a hotel on the way to the prison.

He didn't really feel scared that day. He knew that he had already treated and stitched wounds of his own already so why shouldn't it work with Sigma's wound.

Sigma himself wasn't really scared either. He had been lying on the bed, looking like all the life had been sucked out of him, the realization that his casino was really gone and that all the people in it were dead had crashed down on him, shortly after their little conversation after he had woken up again after falling from the Sky Casino.

If anything, Nikolai had been more scared of Sigma's clearly upcoming breakdown which was brooding inside of him, even if he was still feeling numb at the moment.

Nikolai also hadn't been scared when he had treated his own wounds, stitching them up himself.

He had done it multiple times as a child living on the streets in the Ukraine until Fyodor joined him, insisting to treat Nikolai's wounds.

Hell, he had even skinned a person before and didn't feel scared. Numb yes. Like he was watching it happen in a movie theater, yes. But not scared.

However now his hands wouldn't stop shaking and his breathing became even more quicker and hitched but he knew that it was the only way to save Fyodor.

Noone else besides him would treat his wounds. They had nowhere else to go.

He hectically grabbed the little chair which was standing in the room, pulling it next to the bed, sitting down on it, removing his now bloody gloves, putting on some medical gloves which had been in the box as well, placing everything he needed to start treating the wound properly on a new cloth on the bed, taking a needle into his hand.

Taking a deep breath, he told himself quietly that he had to pull himself together now and that he had done this many times before but that his hands had to stop shaking now or else he would mess it up.

It was one of the few times Nikolai genuinely prayed.

Nikolai didn't know how long he treated Fyodor's wounds and his hand but it felt like hours.

He made use of all the medical knowledge he had from books and from Fyodor himself as well.

He had asked his friend a couple of times before about random medical stuff, simply because he wanted his friend's attention and because he had wanted to talk with him and he had never been so glad about the fact that he asked him about it and listened to him before.

After he finally dressed the wounds, putting multiple layers on them before wrapping them all up in clean white bandages as well as after wrapping the hand up, he felt all the energy which mainly came from his panic as well as from his sheer willpower and his wish to save his friends life fade out of his body, his body practically slumping together on the chair as he still somewhat propped himself up, elbows on the bed and his head leaning against his hands.

The silence around him felt both defening and calming as he only now realized how quiet it was.

Only his own and Fyodor's hitched breathing were the only noises in the room.

While taking a couple deep breaths, he realized that he really did it, that Fyodor's life was (for now) pretty much saved but also realized what he just did, that he saved him instead of killing him, realizing that Sigma was right when he once told him that Nikolai was unable to kill Fyodor, that he needed him and was still attached to him too much to kill him off and that he still loved him more than anything but also, upon him finally coming out of his panicked state, tears started to form in Nikolai's eyes and he was by no means able to stop them from falling down his cheeks.

He was too tired and felt too much to even think about stopping them and like that, Nikolai sat next to the bed on which Fyodor who now looked like was sleeping if one ignored the sweat on his face, the hitched breathing and the thick bandages, was lying, crying more than he ever cried before.

He cried for more than an hour, his mind a mess and everything from the past weeks crashing down on him.

Eventually he didn't even knew if he cried because of the relief after saving Fyodor or because he was so mad at himself or maybe because he realized how deeply wrong he was or maybe because he felt so torn apart but he still wouldn't stop crying. The tears continued falling down his face and he felt like he would never stop crying.

Eventually he did though.

After the crying finally quieted down, he felt more worn-out and even more like all his energy and life got sucked out of him.

Everything hurted, he had a pounding headache and light hurted in his now swollen red eyes while his face felt like it was about to explode in general.

Slowly sitting up again, slumping against the backlean of the creaking chair, he let his gaze wander over Fyodor and the bed.

There was blood everywhere on the bed and on his medical supplies, the room was a mess, used cloths, cotton balls and tissues were lying around everywhere, his own purple now reddish stained gloves were lying next to the bed and Fyodor somehow still looked breathtakingly beautiful.

Nikolai just hoped that Fyodor would handle it well, especially because of his anemia or else he would have to steal some blood transfusions from the nearest hospital.

It would be no problem. He knew how to do it, he knew Fyodor's blood type for whatever reason he couldn't recall anymore by now and after what he had just done, a blood transfusion was nothing compared to it but he knew all the risks which came with one and it was really something which he had never done before unlike treating a wound (even though he has never treated such a large and drastical wound before and even though he had usually never saved lives before) so it was really something he only wanted to do if there was no other way anymore.

Besides this he wanted to draw as less police attention to his surroundings as possible so he wanted to refrain from committing any crime but if he had to do it for Fyodor he would do it without having to think about it twice.

He looked with tired and nearly empty eyes at the scene before him for quite some time before he scratched together all the willpower and energy he had left in his body to drag himself out of his chair in order to clean up a bit.

He cleaned the room and the bed a bit up, carefully cleansed all his medical supplies if he would need them again in case of an emergency and washed his hands which were stained with blood from when he tried to stop the bleeding earlier.

Afterwards, he fully got Fyodor out of his prison clothes and dressed him into some lose pyjama pants of his own.

They were way too big and way too long for him but he didn't wanted to let him lie there in either a torn apart bloody prison jumpsuit or just in his underwear.

He also put him some of his warmest socks on, not wanting to let the other freeze before placing multiple blankets on top of him.

He didn't wanted to put on a shirt on him since he needed to frequently change his bandages and also in case he quickly had to do something on the wound again but he also didn't wanted to let Fyodor freeze or get sick on top of all so he gathered all the blankets he had lying around or which he had stored in his portals, placing them on top of Fyodor.

He also put his hand on a spare pillow so that it would lay a bit higher, knowing that it would help for a better blood flow but also reducing the risk of Fyodor accidentally touching it in case he would start to move. And Nikolai wanted so badly that he would start moving soon.

Seeing Fyodor's body lie there so limp, made his heart sink each and every time he looked at him again.

His hand was beyond fixing. Nikolai did his best but it was so injured that he probably only could move it and the fingers a little bit.

It still worked but he most likely could never use it as much as before.

After everything was done, Nikolai sat on his chair next to Fyodor for the next days, holding his injured hand gently, looking at him, monitoring his breathing, checking his overall shape and looking out for him him general without a break.

Only when he felt close to passing out he would force himself to get up to drink something and to nibble on a slice of bread or whatever random "snack" he would find but he couldn't really eat anything. He didn't want to eat anything.

The only thing he wanted was Fyodor to wake up. To look at him again with those hypnotizing purple eyes of his in which he could get lost ever since they met and to speak to him again.

He would even be fine with Fyodor telling him that he would kill him. He just wanted him to wake up and to hear his soothing deep voice with the heavy Russian accent which he loved so much.

Just like when he cleaned the room and dressed Fyodor, watching over him he felt like in some kind of trance. Everything just passed by. He was caught up in his thoughts, thinking about Fyodor, about Punishment, about what happened, about his childhood, about their shared childhood, about his ideology, about freedom and his love.

He never noticed when he fell asleep. Sleeping and being awake kind of blurred together.

Often he would dream about Fyodor and about them as children on the streets. How he once took care of Fyodor in another cold and cruel winter when he got sick, shoplifting medicine and holding the shivering Fyodor in his arms as he sat on the ground the empty side alley in which they always slept, his panic rising the higher Fyodor's fever got and about how he wrapped his own coat about Fyodor in a desperate attempt to keep him warm and shield him from the cold which surrounded them even if that meant that he would freeze himself. As long as he could help Fyodor he was happy.

He dreamt about how he prayed while Fyodor's fever was the highest it had ever been and he dreamt about how he cried in happiness when Fyodor started to eat, talk and walk around again, finally feeling better.

He dreamt about them dancing around. He dreamt about the prison about the helicopter he dreamed over and over about Fyodor's pained expression but he also dreamed about how they would sometimes lie together in the bed of Fyodor's apartment at night, holding each other after Nikolai came over to Fyodor's place once again after having a nightmare, Nikolai listening to Fyodor's steady heartbeat, neither of them saying a word, only hugging each other, knowing that there will never happen more between them than this. A faint reminder of how close they once were as teens trying to survive.

He dreamt of purple eyes, cold but gentle and soft bony hands, black hair and the sound of a feather quill scratching over paper as well as flickering screens with the purple symbol of the rats.

He dreamt about birds and freedom.

The days would pass like this, Nikolai never leaving Fyodor's side for longer than a couple of minutes until one day after nearly a whole week, Fyodor's body tensed up, his face twisting in pain for a second, his breathing becoming quicker before he managed to open his eyes a bit, blinking a couple of times before his eyes fully focused on his surroundings.

Nikolai stared at him with wide eyes, not really daring to believe that what he was seeing was real and not a dream.

Upon gaining more and more consciousness, Fyodor sucked in a sharp breath due to all the pain he felt but his mind was still too clouded to really register where the pain was coming from.

He didn't recognize his surroundings so he moved his head a bit to look around but seeing who was sitting next to him wasn't something he would have expected at all.

Upon seeing Nikolai sitting next to him, staring at him with wide eyes, a mixture of happiness, relief and disbelief written all over his face, Fyodor's own eyes widenth.

He was the first one to break the silence between them, Nikolai seemingly not daring to do anything, still not really believing what was happening.

It took him a lot of energy but he managed to say Nikolai's name, his voice being awfully hoarse and sounding fragile and weak.

As soon as Nikolai heard Fyodor call out his name, he left his frozen state and tears welled up in his eyes.

Fyodor looked at him in shock upon seeing the other tear up, still not really being able to fully wrap his head around what happened and that he was alive but despite his mind being all messy, he tried to squeeze the other's hand out of reflex, only to realize that he couldn't really move his hand before a piecing pain shot through his body making him flinch hard, causing another wave of pain to roll through his whole body this time and not only through his arm.

After the pain got a bit less again, he finally realized that his stomach and his shoulder were covered in thick heavy bandages which were neatly wrapped around him as well that wasn't wearing any prison clothes anymore.

The memories of what happened before he passed out came back as well and while he had been so sure that that was it, he was now lying here and since he could tell that this wasn't any official hospital or an infirmary at the prison he knew exactly who brought him here and who saved him.

Upon realizing all of this, he looked at all the blankets covering him before looking back at Nikolai with such a soft yet pained gaze.

It was then when he saw how awful Nikolai looked. He had lost a lot of weight, there were deep dark shadows under his eyes, he still wore his clown costume, just the hat, the card covering his eye and his gloves were missing but it looked messy and there were blood stains all over it. However since Nikolai didn't seemed to be injuried at all, Fyodor could tell that it was all his own blood which was still all over Nikolai's clothes, showing him that he hadn't even changed after cleaning up, hurrying next to his side again to stay with him.

His white hair was a mess as well and looked like it hasn't been combed since days. Even his braid which was usually done all neatly and accurate was a mess, strands of hair being out of the braid here and there and the bow at the end of the braid seemingly trying it's best to hold the last remains of the once braided hair together.

Nikolai was pale and looked more worn-out and tired than Fyodor had ever seen him and to his surprise, he felt his heart sink upon seeing his friend like this.

He wanted to say something, asking Nikolai what he had done but before he could say anything, Nikolai cried out that he hated him, tears starting to fall down.

Fyodor was caught off guard at first before a soft smile spread across his lips and he managed to say "Thank you Koyla" before he tensed up again, another wave of pain making his body feel like it was getting stabbed in the stomach all over again.

Nikolai stared at him in disbelief before gently lifting Fyodor's bandaged hand to his own face, cradling it and holding it softly against his cheek, looking at Fyodor with a wobbly smile before breaking down crying once again, not letting go of Fyodor's hand.

Fyodor just looked at Nikolai and for once he did let himself feel how painfully in love he himself was with Nikolai.

Normally he tried to suppress it, denying himself any kind of love he felt towards the other but now he couldn't bring himself to even just try to do so.

He was glad that he woke up to Nikolai sitting next to.

He couldn't say anything to Nikolai as the latter cried, since the few things he said already took out all his energy so he just lied there, looking at the other with a small smile.

Eventually Nikolai pulled himself together again, carefully laying down Fyodor's hand on the pillow again, however not letting go of it before asking him a couple of things about how he was feeling which Fyodor answered with either nodding his head or shaking his head.

In the following days, Nikolai would continue to take care of Fyodor, gently propping him up against the headboard of the bed, feeding him soup and other more nurturing dishes he would cook for him as well as making him drink a lot of water and tea.

He also made him regularly take iron supplements and fed him sweets every now and then to help his body to recover from the blood loss.

They didn't talk much. Fyodor couldn't talk much anyways but it was off-putting to see Nikolai so quiet and drowned in thoughts.

Fyodor knew that he had to leave him alone with his thoughts now and that he himself had to sort this battle between his humanity and his ideology out for himself.

Nikolai would change his bandages and the covers of the blankets regularly and kept a close eye on the wounds.

The wound were Sigma shot Fyodor in his shoulder healed good and quickly but the wounds on his hand and especially the large stab wound were healing slowly but luckily, neither of them showed any signs of an infection.

Fyodor did his best to appear put together when Nikolai was changing the bandages but sometimes he couldn't prevent himself for making pained noises, flinching hard or tensing up, hashly sucking in the air.

Nikolai never made any comments on it but he often looked at him with a worried and apologetic expression.

He hated feeling so weak and vulnerable and he was horrified of Punishment lashing out an Nikolai whenever he was in a lot of pain since it tended to lash out when Fyodor felt threatened or in pain so he was often lying there utterly exhausted after Nikolai exchanged the bandages, partly from the pain but mostly from trying to keep Punishment at bay in his weakened state.

He felt Punishment rage inside of him every single day and he found himself having the urge to get revenge on Dazai and Chuuya and the whole ADA.

However one day, just when his body was in a good enough shape for him to slowly start to get up again he felt the harsh feeling of Punishment inside of him as well as the influence it had on him disappear completely in just one moment.

It didn't fade away slowly, it was like someone had just flicked off a light switch and turned it off.

Suddenly he regained his whole consciousness again, his mind which always was a bit messy and foggy due to Punishment's influence suddenly feeling completely normal again.

He didn't really know what happened but the disappearing of his ability made unable to leave his bed even more again.

All the memories of what happened crashed down on him besides of parts where his ability had taken over completely, and the guilt was eating him up alive.

In addition to that, he had to fully readjust to having his full consciousness back.

Mostly however, he had to wrap his head around the fact that he was only Fyodor now. Not Crime, not Punishment, only Fyodor.

He felt the rage and the twisted thoughts disappear and it made him both utterly relieved and scared.

It was like a part of him got taken away but he didn't felt less whole now. If anything, he felt like himself again despite the guilt eating him up alive and it confused him more than anything.

Nikolai was there for him the whole time. He wouldn't leave his side before and he wouldn't leave his side now.

When he had entered to room, seeing that Fyodor stared at him in disbelief and fear, his eyes not being hazy anymore and lacking all the coldness but now being filled with light again, Nikolai would have nearly dropped everything he had been holding at that moment out of disbelief and shock himself.

He immediately recognized those eyes and at first, he didn't dare to believe that for whatever reason, Punishment was gone for good now.

Nikolai himself, was having a battle with his mind over all this time and slowly he let himself believe that he could be together with Fyodor while being free at the same time.

Nikolai knew by now that Fyodor returned his feelings and he knew that he would wait for him until he was ready and Fyodor did wait.

He waited until they were both ready to finally put into words what they were feeling all those times before, taking the step to finally get together.

Fyodor recovered slowly but aside from the time after losing his ability where he got worse, he was recovering steadily.

Nikolai, who had put his clown attire away by now and who slowly started to eat more again as well as started to somewhat take a bit care of himself again due to Fyodor refusing to eat until Nikolai ate something himself, helped him the whole time.

He continued to feed him, he changed the bandages, made sure that bed and room were clean, after Fyodor was able to sit up again for a few minutes without being in too much pain he would gently wash him every day, he brushed his hair making sure that it wouldn't become matted, he changed his clothes regularly and when the time came he helped him to slowly sit up without leaning against the headboard for support again, he helped him to move around in his bed to scoot over to the edge of the bed, sitting on it and placing his feet on the floor again for the first time since weeks if not months and eventually he helped him to stand up again, taking his first few wobbly steps again.

The first time standing up again was nerve wracking for both of them.

It had been painful to sit up on his own with only a bit support but it was much more manageable than when he first tried to sit up.

He couldn't stand lying in bed any longer.

Nikolai had been looking at him, his eyes filled with worry while he was firmly holding Fyodor's healthy hand with one, and his forearm of the other arm with his other hand.

After getting used to the feeling of sitting up and after the first row of pain got lesser again, Fyodor looked at Nikolai and nodded, him being as tensed up as the other himself, before using all his energy to drag himself out of his bed and up on his feet with Nikolai's help.

His weakened legs were shaky and wobbly and he immediately felt like passing out, his anemia making him see black and flimmering colors for a second but before he could fall, he felt Nikolai wrapping one of his arms around him, careful not to touch the wound on his stomach, steadily holding him and preventing him from falling, letting him slump against him until he was able to see something again a few seconds later.

His legs were shaking, his breathing became faster and he was clinging with his healthy hand to Nikolai as if his life would depend on him but he felt more genuinely happy than he felt since a long time, finally being able to stand again.

However, he quickly had to lie back down again upon the pain and the exhaustion becoming too much, making him feel dizzy and like his legs would give out on him any moment.

Nikolai himself had a big smile and teary eyes as he told Fyodor that he did great, feeling relieved due to seeing how well Fyodor was recovering and that he would be able to walk at least short lengths again being written all over his face.

He also helped him to slowly move his hand more again but just as he had suspected, Fyodor couldn't really move or do anything with his hand anymore.

Teaching himself how to write and how to handle a weapon with his non dominant hand wasn't that difficult for Fyodor but he did struggle with doing daily activities with mostly only one hand and he grieved after not being able to play the cello anymore.

Nikolai tried his best to cheer him up whenever he saw that Fyodor was getting frustrated again because of his hand or when he sensed that he became upset when listening to music including a cello again.

After getting up again for the first time, they would continue to train getting up and walking around again.

The first few times, Fyodor had to hold onto Nikolai and often wasn't able to take more than two or on good days three steps before his legs felt like they would give out again and before the pain coming from the large stab wound became too much again.

However after quite some time had passed, he was able to walk around more freely and without having to hold onto Nikolai as much again.

He was still shaky on his legs, walking quickly became exhausting and painful after a while but he got better and better.

It still took a very long time until he was able to fully get out of bed over nearly a whole day, to walk around and do things completely on his own but Nikolai was there for him the whole time and he continued to be there for him even when Fyodor had fully recovered just like Fyodor was always there for Nikolai when the other needed him.

When the large wound was finally so well healed that Nikolai could finally pull the stitches out, he did try his best not to tear up again, the process reminding him of how he was desperately trying to save his dearest's life but also showing him once again that he did manage to save him, reminding him of how far they came.

After they finally got together after Nikolai was ready and after they both were both in a much better state, both physically and mentally, Nikolai would often kiss Fyodor's injuried hand, holding it as gentle as possible if Fyodor either was upset because of it again or if the chronic pain which developed from the injury became worse again.

Fyodor would always have two large and messy looking scars and a fully scarred hand now but Nikolai didn't mind. He would always tell Fyodor that he looked beautiful, despite all the scars which the other hated so much and he would frequently kiss them whenever he got the opportunity to do so.

After Fyodor had fully recovered and was able to live more independently again, they moved out of the little shabby hideout to live a quiet life underground in a small but cozy house under fake identities and in a different country, far away from where everything went down.

Due to Punishment being gone, Fyodor had no desire to start another war or to get revenge on the ADA anymore.

He just wanted to get as far away from anything which reminded him of this time as it was possible.

He craved to start a new life together with Nikolai, far away from all the things which reminded him if the past.

They might still had a long road of recovery and redemption in front of them but they both felt happier than they've ever been and their relationship was a true and honest one, based on a deep and mutual understanding for each other and based on utter and deep running love which would never end.

If you read all of this, thank you so much! I love u <3

I hope you liked it!

30 notes · View notes

thinktosee · 1 year

Text

Israel The Land of Resilience

Exposure to prolonged war or conflict will shape the mindset and behavior of a society to extreme resilience and a collective consciousness amenable to sacrifices. This is Israel in reality.

Arriving in peaceful Israel on Oct 5 and then two days later, being exposed to the enormity of the tragedy which visited on the Nation in the form of a coordinated terror attack campaign, I was reluctantly left with a few life’s experiences and lessons. One could say that Israel is a good teacher in nation-building.

From the moment of the senseless attack on Israel from Gaza, right to the present, the People of Israel, consisting of the general population and the long-bickering political figures have come together as a Nation in deep crisis. The enormous loss of life, casualties sustained, and hostages taken to Gaza by the terrorists have glued the Israeli public into one solid national imperative – “No more!” or "Never Again!" This was the cry of the Jews following the Holocaust of the second World War. As the shocked nation mourns its dead, the underlying emotion is clearly palpable – there must be an end to this senseless violence. A few Israelis whom I had spoken with, naturally felt that Gaza should be pacified permanently. There is no question what they had in mind – the casualties will be incalculable for Israelis and Gazans. I pray that it does not come to this.

Over the last few days of my eye-opening stay here, I observed that the folks are generally as positive as one could possibly be under these dire circumstances. While the nation is on a war-footing, with armed forces reserves/soldiers plainly visible everywhere and most stores remaining shuttered, the collective attempt at normality seems difficult to fathom. But that is just how the Israelis cope with war and conflict. The staff at the hotel where I am staying are as welcoming and engaging as if these are peaceful times. The Guest Relations Officer took the time from her very demanding schedule to chat with and to assist me with advancing the date of my return flight. The supermarket next door continues to be adequately staffed. It is functioning marvelously, especially if one were to consider that the reserve soldiers, men and women, who have been called to duty, work in civilian jobs, including in supermarkets and hotels. It was very clear to me that the slack has been taken up very quickly by their colleagues.

One worried mother informed me that she has two young sons who had been deployed. The unknown is always the most fearful. But the sacrifices of the nation to translate that to the known and hence to normality are what every family, mother, father, brother and sister has promised with unceasing courage and finality. Israel is Israel is unique is Israel.

The public alarm went off several times over the last few days, which generally means that there was an on-going rocket attack from beyond Israel. We had been informed prior, to shelter in the stairwell when the siren went on. This we did. But the remarkable thing is that the hotel security staff would go around checking the stairwells to politely ensure every guest was accounted for.

What is different this time for the Israelis? It is the first time that Israel was attacked en-masse inside her borders. There will be a reckoning, I hear. Even the most resilient people have their stoic limits.

Before my departure tonight, I like to thank the hotel staff for making my stay safe. I am also very grateful to the Israeli People, for being the most gracious hosts under these tragic and trying circumstances. My heart is with you, always and I pray for blessings of Peace and Goodwill to all.

Shalom.

0 notes

winepresswrath · 3 years

Note

I have a question about novel!JC, if that's ok. I'm aware CQL changed things, but is JC in the novel trully such a selfish, abusive, irredeemable asshole some people paint him as? I will read the novel anyways now with the official EN translation, but I admit I'm afraid JC being anywehre near a one dimensional monster some insist he is may sour my experience a little.

I'd say no, but your mileage may vary! He's definitely softened for CQL. The drama writers included a bunch of scenes that make his feelings about Wei Wuxian very clear and also made him look directly into the camera and promise never to let any harm come to his clan just in case anyone was confused about his motivations, but I honestly think most of that stuff is also present in the novel, albeit less obviously. I would say the biggest difference is that because of the timeline hopping the question of whether Jiang Cheng really hates Wei Wuxian and wants him dead is strung out for longer, and there are a few deliberately misleading moments, like Wei Wuxian thinking about how Jiang Cheng was beaten by a discipline whip and then tried to erase the scars without clarifying that he was being tortured by Wen Chao at the time. I'd say there's also a broader range of plausible reads on his character in the novel- he's a less prominent character than he is in CQL, and the book leaves a lot more space than the drama for ambiguity. He is a dude who plausibly beat some demonic cultivators to death. The cultivation world is generally homophobic and he participates in that, (Wei Wuxian is also working through some stuff on that front, which is something I really wish I'd been warned about before starting the novel- we're mostly inside his head, so there are front row tickets to his internalized homophobia that I personally really did not enjoy, though I know a lot of people found it relatable or funny). For what it's worth, I know some people think CQL villainized him or made him less sympathetic! Personally I went in thinking that he'd be a terrible monster and then spent the whole time going "wait what? That is the opposite of what you said was going to happen, internet."

#jiang cheng #mdzs #I'm not the biggest fan of how MXTX handles internalized homophobia in general but I fully admit to sometimes finding Shen Yuan funny even #when he's objectively being pretty awful #Wei Wuxian just makes me wince #but that is the one thing I really would have preferred to go in braced for #oh and jiang cheng in the novel is famously bad tempered but also much more controlled and would for example #never cry in public under normal circumstances #he's just specifically deranged about Wei Wuxian #i think that's a difference? cql jiang cheng is tired and furious and doing his job #mdzs is borderline triggered in the clinical sense #like I'm a cql girl and when I say jiang cheng that's who I mean #i probably would not have gotten into fandom over the novel #but it's fun and jiang cheng is fun in it #less Yanli tho which is an actual crime #oh! Wei Wuxian's also a lot more angry with him #and meaner about him than cql!WWX ever is #oh oh and the siege of the burial mounds I cannot believe I forgot #jiang cheng leads a siege against Wei Wuxian #and the Wen remnants minus Wen Qing and Wen Ning #so he is directly implicated in their deaths #you definitely could like cql jc and not novel jc!#but the people who insist he's a one dimensional villain are I think mostly just bitter because they hate him and he's popular #and his cql version supports an interpretation of his character they dislike

98 notes · View notes

danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

Ooooo you're doing yandere alphabet stuff!!! If you dont mind, may I add on to that anon's request? When you get to FO4 can you include Glory, Dima, and platonic Father? And when you get to FNV, Ulysses, Graham, Benny, and Yesman?? Thank you! I really liked the FO3 post!

Yandere Headcannons Part 3: Fallout 4 Companions + Extras

So here is the third and final installment to this little series! I hope y'all enjoyed it, and if you want me to add anyone else, of course just lmk :)

Included Below: Cait, Curie, Danse, Deacon, Father, DiMA, Glory, Hancock, Kellogg, MacCready, Nick, Piper, Preston, & X6-88

(Also, sorry if DiMA is completely out of character, I've never met him in-game, and I didn't have time to do as much research as I normally would, but hopefully it's not too obvious 😅)

Here is Part 1 (FO3 Companions)

Here is Part 2 (FONV Companions + Extras)

I hope you enjoy!

Also, just a TW for typical yandere behavior: unhealthy relationships, guilt trips, manipulation, lack of consent, control, allusions to suicide, blood, threats, and mentions of murder ahead!

Cait:

C) Cruelty. How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

She’d only mock them if they were being a baby about it. Sole thinks this is bad? Try being enslaved by raiders, why doncha. She has no sympathy for them at all; whatever it is she’s putting them through, there ain’t no way it’s close to the kinda suffering she went through at the hands of the animals who bought her when she was younger. She doesn’t beat them, even if they deserve it, doesn’t do anythin’ without their consent (though she might complain about it), and they got food, water and shelter under her care. As far as Cait’s concerned, Sole can either shut the fuck up, or thank her for keepin’ them bloody safe.

A) Affection. How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

She’s sort of a “tough love” type gal. Lots of punches to the shoulder, or bumping into them affectionately in public, and some more genuine forms of physical touch in private, like playing with their hair, or hot n’ heavy makeout seshes on the sofa, maybe even massages if they’re feelin’ up to it, but she does require consent first. Especially when it comes to sex. She still likes to be intimate with her partner, and thinks it’s a good release for both of them, and she might grumble about them refusing her and say they’re being ridiculous, but Cait wouldn’t do anything, especially anything sexual, against their will. She knows what that shit is like, and wouldn’t catch herself becoming like the monsters who owned her, under any circumstance.

I) Ideals. What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Cait doesn’t tend to look too far ahead. Every time she tries to make a plan, it ends up getting fucked over anyway, so she just tends to go with it, whatever “it” might be. One thing she does know though, she likes Sole. They treated her right, even from the start. No one had ever done that with her before. Even the few people she could say she cared about didn’t ever treat her right. Maybe that’s why she’s done this… Why she needs Sole all to herself. The people she’s cared about… She’s lost all of them, one way or another. That shite’s not gonna happen again, that’s the only thing the lass is certain of.

T) Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream/cry/or isolate themselves?

She wishes she could just clench her jaw and give ‘em a rap over the head to shut ‘em up. Wishes she could be removed from it, uncaring and unaffected, but the truth is, it makes her chest ache. Cait tends to lash out, to raise her voice and tell them to suck it up, if only so she doesn’t have to hear their wailing anymore, so she doesn’t have to see their tears. An’ it’s not ‘cause it annoys her, though that may be how it comes off, but it really hurts her when she thinks they might not want to be with her the way she needs to be with them. Cait may be rough with them when they sniffle and whine, but once they’ve calmed down she always tries to comfort them afterwards, in her own way, at least. She’ll drape an arm around their shoulders, wipe their tears away with a calloused finger, maybe even give their forehead a tender kiss, followed by a whispered apology and a period of silence where she just clings to them and tries to make them understand where she’s coming from. It’s not that Cait doesn’t know why they’re sad, she does. She gets it, she just wishes it wasn’t because of her. Yet still, she can’t seem to let them go.

Curie:

C) Cruelty. How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Though Curie is clingy and a bit controlling, she doesn’t have a cruel bone in her body. She wouldn’t mock Sole for being upset, and would become upset herself at their negative reaction to being by her side. If she's not cruel, and if she loves them, why wouldn't they want to be with her? Honestly, she just wants to understand what she's doing wrong, and try to be the most ideal companion to her love that she can be.

U) Unique. Would they do anything different from classic yandere?

She’s so much kinder to her beloved than most. She doesn’t understand that what she is doing is wrong. This was how she was always shown affection when it came to being in the vault; the doctors were never unkind to her, necessarily, and she couldn’t possibly be horrible to her companion, it’s just all she knows. It's not imprisonment to her, it's just... living, and though the doctors and her were underground for so long, imprisoned in their own way, it was the time in her life when people were kindest to her, when she had purpose, when she could care for others and know their care in return. It's really all the synth knows.

She wouldn’t try to be manipulative, and she is alright with Sole spending time with others, so long as they always come back to her in the end. She is vastly more loving and considerate than traditional yandere characters, but she does maintain a level of control over her partner, an infatuation and a dependence on them that isn’t present in healthy relationships.

R) Regret. Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let them go?

She doesn’t see that what she’s doing is wrong; therefore, it’s difficult for her to regret any of it. Curie is kind to her love, she’s supportive, and she never leaves their side; how could they be unhappy? If they make their discomfort known to her, she has a hard time understanding it, but she will express apology, and perhaps make it seem as though she regrets her controlling actions, but she’s not sure how honest she’s being when communicating her regret. She’s more just stating what she thinks Sole wants to hear, but again, she doesn’t see her actions as anything worth regretting.

I) Ideals. What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Curie tends to have a pre-war, idealized version of the future she would like for her and Sole. Though now she knows that it’s unlikely, or perhaps even impossible, for the pair to have such a life in the current world they live in, Curie is determined to come as close as she can. She feels that her partner deserves some peace after everything they’ve been through, and she wouldn’t mind some for herself either. However, this would be a distant future plan. For now, the synth is content traveling the Commonwealth with her beloved partner at her side, so that she can observe and learn as much as possible.

E) Exposed. How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

She loves speaking with her love about anything and everything, especially if they want to tell her about their difficulties, and their past. Curie tends not to think of her past as being something worth saying much about, though. She stayed in one room for 200 years, most of which she spent in solitude (apart from the mole rats), and what she does recall from her past that involves others only makes her sad. She’d rather hear about Sole’s life, rather than chitter on about her uneventful one, and she’d much rather help with their problems than have to speak at length about her old friends who shared the vault with her all those years ago. However, she’s more than happy to tell Sole often and how much she cares about them.

Danse:

D) Darling. Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

For the most part, no. Danse believes in respect above all else, and if he expects it from his partner, he'll be damned if he doesn't treat them with it in return. He's emotional, vulnerable and desperate after finding out the truth about himself, but he won't let it cloud his judgement enough to disregard his core values. He just wants Sole near to him. Wherever they want to go, whatever they want to do, as long as it's ethical and in accordance with the ideals he upholds, Danse will be satisfied, just as long as they're by his side.

A) Affection. How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

If Sole isn't comfortable, he won't show his affection for them. It's as simple as that, though, it will always be there. Mostly, Danse gives verbal praise and shows them he cares by tending to their needs. It's more difficult for him to be physically affectionate if he has to initiate, and he won't do so at all if Sole is uncertain about it, but in time, he finds that he likes to spend private moments with his partner wrapped in his arms. Feeling them physically there beside him, being able to touch them and know they're there, it's what he needs more than anything. His time in the Brotherhood left little room for showing affection, especially of the physical sort, and his fears of being utterly alone coupled with the fact that he's been touch starved for the majority of his life have left Danse nervous in the face of intentional physical affection, but nonetheless, in utter need of it. If only in order to feel as though he isn't the cold, hard, synthetic monster he thinks of himself as.

N) Naughty. How would they punish their darling?

He's a soldier, through and through. As such, Danse's punishments would be of a similar sort of consequence as they would have been in the Brotherhood. Physical punishment in the form of exercises, chores and cleaning in purposefully inefficient ways, even writing lines are all disciplinary tactics he would use to his advantage. Danse likes to think that he tries to separate his more Commanding Officer-esque personality traits, from his personal, romantic life, but when it comes to punishment, this is all the ex-Paladin knows.

S) Stigma. What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc.)?

His earth shattering identity crises threw his entire perception of reality off kilter. Danse has never witnessed particularly shining examples of proper healthy relationships, which doesn't help in this case, but more so than that, is his utter desperation to not be alone. The stinging betrayal of the closest thing he's ever had to family is still running rampant through his mind and causing an insatiable ache in his synthetic heart. He can't imagine how anyone could possibly pay him any mind after finding out the truth of his identity, but now that Sole has? How the hell could he possibly ever let them go? They're literally all that he has left, and he's clinging to them as desperately as he can without damaging them.

E) Exposed. How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Danse tends to be matter-of-fact about his vulnerability. He's open with his words and trying to make sense of his own feelings, but he rarely lets himself be vulnerable in a more emotional sense. He'll do his level best at refraining from crying in their presence, and tries not to let his anger or frustration or guilt be expressed in a physical way, and even something as simple as laughter is scarce at the best of times. But his ability with words, and the way he's forced himself to engage in heart to heart conversations over the years, they pay off in the sense that his partner often knows what Danse is thinking, or feeling, but they really do have to take his word for it, because that's likely all they're going to get, unless they initiate their own physical contact.

Deacon:

D) Darling. Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Deacon’s “abduction” of Sole is more of a manipulation of their mind than it is a physical imprisonment. He uses his wit and verbal skillset to convince Sole to only trust him, to only depend on him and the causes that he supports. It’s all in their best interest, he tells himself, even as he methodically cuts each of their friends out of their life and takes up more and more of their time until he’s the only one left in their life that they can rely on.

This whole process is against their will, but Deacon cuts everyone out at such a steady rate, takes away their freedoms over a considerable amount of time, and refuses to do anything physical without their consent; he’s so periodic and careful that Sole hardly notices their freedoms being repressed until it’s already done, until even they feel like what Deacon is doing is for the best.

E) Exposed. How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He’s extremely closed off at first, and even when it does seem like he’s finally opening up to them, he proves himself a liar all over again, at every chance. It’s only after Sole is his, when he has them safely at his side, when there’s nothing left that they could hide from him, that he decides to slowly reveal pieces of his past. It’s difficult, even impossible sometimes, to tell if he’s lying or not, but he knows. It’s no easy thing for him, and it’s rare at best, but slowly, methodically, the spy unravels his story for his beloved, if only so they can understand his actions now, where he’s come from, what he’s gone through, and why he chose them to share his true self with.

A) Affection. How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He has a hard enough time with affection when his partner is enthusiastic about it, so if Sole refuses him in any way, he’s not even going to consider forcing them. But if they seem into it, and after a good amount of time spent with them, Deacon will become comfortable enough to initiate small forms of physical affection. Mostly it starts off being contact of a silly sort: nose boops, finger holding (as opposed to whole hand-holding), random tickles, head pats, noogies, and the like.

Before anything physical occurs, Deacon will be verbally affectionate by sharing jokes, words of advice, little compliments and such, as a sort of temporary replacement/start to affection of a more physical nature.

C) Cruelty. How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He throws a few jokes Sole’s way, but they usually have little to do with his manipulation and are just generally used to make them feel inadequate enough that they feel they have to depend on him for their own well-being. Beyond that, Deacon isn’t cruel physically, and his mocking is always humorous enough that they may not realize how much it wears on their self esteem until he’s already got them convinced they can’t survive without him.

O) Oppression. How many rights would they take away from their darling?

This was touched on a bit earlier (See: D), but mostly he just separates them from all other sources of possible emotional support, all friends they’ve made, or what’s left of their family, and he forces them to depend on him for everything they may need in a companion, in a protector, in a friend or a partner. He’s all of it, and because he is, they can’t leave him.

Beyond that, he just ensures that they are passionate about the Railroad’s cause so they both can continue to do their jobs for the faction as a functioning team.

N) Naughty. How would they punish their darling?

Usually he just has a discussion with them. Deacon’s violent tendencies died out after everything with the UP Deathclaws came to a horrific close, and he likes to think of himself as being on the chill side of the majority of wasteland residents. Physical punishments aren’t an option for him, no sir, so he’ll just go about convincing them that what they did was foolish, and that all they need to do is trust him if they want to be happy, and if they want to survive out here.

He'll talk them through their mistakes, make it known to his partner how foolish they were, he'll belittle and gaslight enough to the point that they feel as bad about their misbehaving as Deacon does, and they won't do it again.

DiMA:

D) Darling. Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

DiMA doesn’t want more from them than just companionship. Someone to share his time with. He’s had that with Nick before, but now… He can’t explain it, but Sole makes him feel whole, like he hasn’t in decades, and just having them near to him is enough. So, he’ll keep them with him in Acadia, and they can learn to be happy here, like so many others, with him at their side. That’s all he wants from them, all he needs is just them, here, at his side. Nothing more. Shouldn't be too hard then, right?

I) Ideals. What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He’s always had an ideal future in mind. One where synths are safe, where they can live in peace, unbothered, and untouched; he wants the same future for his Sole. He wants them here with him, always. He wants them to feel safe, to be happy, to care for him in a way no one really has before. DiMA doesn’t know much of love, he’ll admit. It’s always been more of a concept than a feeling to him, but with Sole, he’d like to imagine he could one day know what it feels like to love, and be loved in return.

M) Mask. Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He tries to be honest about himself, even to newcomers, it’s how he’s established trust with his allies, how he’s been the leader of Acadia with so much success over so many years, and so he is as honest with Sole as he can be. When they brought Nick to him, he could not have been more grateful, and for that, they deserve his genuinity.

A) Affection. How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

DiMA tells Sole his stories, regales the tales of acquiring Arcadia, of befriending the co-founders, of being in the Institute with Nick, of escaping, of trying to balance the well-being of his own people with the peace of those around him. He also gives praise, often telling Sole how much they mean to him, how grateful he is for their assistance, for bringing his brother back to him, for being there for him. A hand on the shoulder, a pat on the back, pressing his forehead to theirs are all ways that he shows them he cares for them. Perhaps too, if they are willing, if they’d like to try more traditional forms of affection, he knows his body is strange, after all of the alterations, the attachments, but if Sole takes the initiative in response to his kindness towards them, if they should hug him, or perhaps even give him a kiss, DiMA won’t exactly know how to react, but he’ll be grateful. He’s never really felt human before, and he hasn’t had to. He’s a synth, and proud of it, he doesn’t have any delusions about being like Sole is, but he doesn’t feel like he has to, especially if they treat him in such a way. It’s comforting to him, to be seen as human, even if he knows he’s not.

Father (Platonic):

F) Fight. How would they feel if their darling fought back?

It would just make the older man less sympathetic. He sees their reluctance as immature, and the more dramatic they are with their resistance, the less stock he takes in their reactions to his behavior. He thinks of them as being dramatic.

After all, Shaun was forcibly taken at a young age, and raised in the comfort of the Institute. He knows what it's like, and he knows that, if anything, he’s doing his parent a favor. If they don’t recognize that, he doesn’t know how to help them. The Institute is far superior to the surface world, they're safe here, they can build a new life, they can be happy, as he's been all this time. Why are they overreacting this way? It's not like there's anyone left on the surface that they care for, everyone they know, besides him, is long gone. They should be relieved to have him in their life, to start anew in a place where they can remain happy and healthy for years to come.

He’ll try to give them explanations to help them make sense of his actions, if they aren’t too hysterical, and he does want Sole in his life, so he won’t be completely emotionless, but Shaun would much prefer to have a conversation with them rather than try and calm their frantic actions.

A) Affection. How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Shaun doesn’t show affection in the way most do, but he does want to communicate his desire to rekindle some sort of relationship with his parent. Mostly, Shaun’s forms of affection are shown through actions rather than physical touch, or even words. He’ll ensure his parent is comfortable where they are staying, that they are provided for, and that they feel valued in the society that he is in charge of. However, he does occasionally try to tell his parent their value to him personally, but he’s admittedly not great at it. Physical expressions of affection may be uncomfortably returned, but Shaun wouldn’t initiate.

T) Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream/cry/or isolate themselves?

This is similar to the fighting point. If they are hysterical, Shaun’s sympathy level will be low at best, but he does have a bit more of an emotional reaction if Sole’s own behavior is subdued and despondent. Of course he doesn’t enjoy seeing his parent cry, but he has a hard time understanding their despair. If they’re reserved about it, he will sit and try to talk them through what’s bothering them, or point them in Dr. Volkert's direction for professional help. Shaun does often have a difficult time empathizing with Sole, given the differences in perspective, upbringing, and circumstance, but for them, he really does try.

H) Hell. What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Sole may never get the chance to return to the surface again. Beyond that, Shaun isn’t particularly cruel, and Sole is well cared for within the Institute, but their freedom is remarkably oppressed.

E) Exposed. How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Shaun doesn’t tend to be open with his feelings, it’s simply not the way things are in the Institute, but for his parent? He’s more open than with most. Sole doesn’t know Shaun, not as the director, not as a person, and sadly, not even as their son; which is actually liberating for him. With Sole, he can voice certain ideas, concerns, or dreams of his that might otherwise be controversial, or things that he never got to act on, based on his role in the Institute. He enjoys speaking with them, but rarely does the conversation become heartfelt in the way Sole might want.

While Sole might be searching for an apology from their son, some sign that he wishes his upbringing might be different, that he wants to work towards a loving relationship with his parent with the limited time they have left, he rarely obliges these wishes. Mostly, he dismisses the idea, stating that it is all in the past, that there’s nothing that can be done to change it, and though he may seek to have some type of relationship with Sole before his illness claims him, he’s not as sentimental about the idea. He sees their relationship as a practicality now. What they could have had is something based on thin air and futile wishes of being able to go back and change the way things are now by altering the past, but Shaun knows that can never happen, and he knows that Sole is aware of that fact as well. He’ll express that if things were different, he may still have been happy, but for now, there’s nothing either of them can do to alter their positions.

R) Regret. Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let them go?

He doesn’t see his actions as anything worth regretting. His parent should be thanking him for allowing them into this faction, for protecting them from the harsh brutishness of the outside world, he shouldn’t have to apologize for going out of his way to help them… Though, perhaps the way he went about it could have been more mindful when it came to his parent’s comfort level.

Later, but before his death, Shaun will think back on how little he had revealed to them early on, how he wasn’t exactly dishonest, but he certainly wasn’t transparent, and though he won’t regret what he did, he may apologize to Sole for the strife he may have unintentionally caused.

Glory:

G) Game. Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling escape?

It’s not a game, it's a goddamn mission. If Sole leaves her side, Glory assumes they’re in trouble. It’s the kinda mindset you have when you’re a part of the Railroad, and especially if you’re an escaped synth. If she wakes up and they’re gone, she’s going on a fucking hunt for them, and when she finds them, she’s not letting them out of her sight for a solid week, and she’s sure to let them know how much they worried her when they were gone. The Railroad heavy will threaten and guilt trip Sole until they never leave her side again, and she’ll be serious as hell, all throughout.

L) Love Letters. How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

It starts off with a lot of talk. Whenever Sole comes to HQ, the heavy seems to be waiting for them, ready to strike up a conversation, to talk about their last mission, and hers, to brag about her accomplishments, and tell Sole how badass they are, even compared to her. Heart to hearts occur pretty often as well, wherein she tells Sole how grateful she is for having them in the faction, tells them what a difference they’ve made, and how they’ve certainly taken some of the load off of her shoulders.

After the talking comes the companionship. She offers to go on missions with them, even when they can tell that it’s behind Desdemona’s back, or against the Railroad leader's wishes. When they are out on missions together, Glory likes to show off her skills as a heavy, and compliments Sole on their own accomplishments out in the field. The praise leads to a bit of flirting that tends to come off as a joke, just some teasing from one agent to the next, but they become more serious the more that Sole responds to them.

O) Oppression. How many rights would they take away from their darling?

She takes away bits of their free will slowly, almost methodically, and she doesn’t even notice she’s doing it until it gets out of hand. Glory starts by ensuring she goes with Sole on every mission, she keeps them from having other companions, or working with other agents, and slowly but surely takes up more and more of their time until they can say that Glory is really their only friend.

She wouldn’t ever keep them from helping the Railroad, the faction and its ideals are just too important to her, but all of their missions go through her, and are completed with her assistance. That’s non-negotiable.

R) Regret. Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let them go?

She wouldn’t really see it as abducting, per say. Glory does allow them a good bit of freedom, just so long as she’s involved, and so, it’s unlikely she’d ever regret it.

If Sole really gave her a piece of their mind, if they stood up to her and let Glory know how much she was hurting them, how much she was stifling their freedoms, she might feel bad for a bit, especially considering her background, and her own familiarity with repressed freedoms, but once she spends some time considering their words, she really has a hard time seeing fault in her own actions. She cares about Sole, so of course she always spends time with them. Glory can protect her partner like no one else can, they share so many of the same views and goals, they have the same goddamn job, where else is she supposed to go? How else is she supposed to treat her partner? They need to get their priorities in order, cuz Glory knows where she stands.

Y) Yearn. How long do they pine for their darling before they snap?

Glory takes an interest in the vault dweller from the start, but it’s not until they’ve completed a few missions that she can’t keep them off her mind. The big one was their first mission together. After that, after Sole's badassery and the witty banter they exchanged, she felt inseparable from them. The pair worked so well together, how could she not want to spend every damn mission with them? They fuckin’ killed it together. After that, there was no way she was letting them go out without her, she was stuck on ‘em for good.

Hancock:

H) Hell. What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Hancock has a tendency to be a little unpredictable at times, and his possessiveness of Sole would only make his actions more rash. He doesn’t like to take away their freedoms, doesn’t like to take advantage of them; it goes against everything the ghoul stands for. But, he will do what he must to keep them beside him. He’s not cruel to them, he loves his Sole with everything inside of him, but… If anyone should stand between him and them, even if their own actions seek to tear them from him, he won’t tolerate it. He’s patient enough with them, but everyone has a breaking point.

A) Affection. How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He’s almost unaware of the amount of affection, (physical, verbal, or otherwise) he seems to shower his partner in. It’s just so natural for the ghoul to show his appreciation for them in that way, and though he’s conscious to Sole’s own limits, if Hancock had his way, he’d have his hands on them at all times. Long hugs, wandering hands, deep kisses and just staring in admiration are all almost constant when the ghoul is at his partner’s side. And now that he finally has his way, he always will be.

N) Naughty. How would they punish their darling?

Mostly it’s just words of warning for him, especially at first, but as he and Sole spend more time together, he will take away some of their rights as well, if he sees fit. Contact with others is already limited, but anything that Sole usually dabbles in will be cut off for a time, be it alcohol, chems, or free time out in the open. Really though? Most of them are empty threats. Hancock is no softie, he’s killed men for looking at him the wrong way if he felt they deserved it, but for Sole? Well, for them there’s an exception.

C) Cruelty. How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Nah, he has no interest in making them more miserable. Just Sole being there with him is enough. Hancock knows he’s not really much of a catch, despite what he tries to present himself as, so he considers that sacrifice enough from Sole. He’ll separate them from others, maybe take away a few of their freedoms if he’s really upset with them, but really, he just wants them, and he loves them more than anything. How could he ever be cruel to the one he cares for so much?

O) Oppression. How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As mentioned in H and C, Hancock really doesn’t like to fuck with Sole’s freedoms, it just doesn’t sit right with him, with all that he stands for, all that he preaches. But if it’s absolutely necessary, he’ll take some away as a form of punishment. Really though, the ghoul is content if Sole stays by his side, if they remain his and his alone, that’s all he cares about. He’s never felt this way about anyone before, and certainly never found anyone as good as Sole that wanted him in return, and he’s not risking what they have for anything, even if it means he has to go against his core principles once in a while to keep it that way.

C) -- Darling. Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Hancock may be a ghoul, but he’s no monster. He’s not going to force anything on the one he loves. He’s convinced they feel some affection for him, but until they give the word that it’s okay, he won’t go beyond their boundaries physically. He may push some chems their way, or suggest having a drink or two, and he may separate them from anyone else that he knows can’t care for them the way he does, just to make them feel closer to him, feel less inhibitions, but he doesn’t force anything on them.

K) Kisses. How do they act around or with their darling?

Oh, anyone who can see the pair, even from a distance, knows that this ghoul is absolutely head over heels for Sole. If his lips aren’t on them, then his arms are around them. If his arms aren’t around them, then his hands are on them. If his hands aren’t on them, then he can’t tear his ogling gaze from them. He smiles for them, laughs for them, orders their food and drinks, and makes sure they’re always comfortable and safe. Even if Hancock does have to sacrifice his own ideals a bit, if he has to take away some of his partner’s free will, he still ensures that with him, they are well-cared for, that everyone (especially Sole) knows how much he loves them, and how he’d never let anything happen to them, so help him.

Kellogg:

K) Kisses. How do they act around or with their darling?

Kellogg changes quite a bit with time. At first, it’s all about possession. He’s aggressive with his partner, he keeps a wary eye on them, grasps their arm tightly in his grip as they walk, stands much too close for comfort. When they’re intimate, he’s rough with the way he takes them, marking and bruising as he conquers their body with his.

Later though, as he allows himself to become more disillusioned, he tries to act more like a proper partner, like he was with Sarah… Despite the fact that Sole is only there by force. He knows they despise him, deep down, he’ll always know that, but… Maybe the two of them don’t have to act that way. Maybe Conrad can get some small semblance of that life he knew he never deserved, but that he was so close to having all those years ago. With Sole, maybe he can play family again. Isn’t that something they would want as well? After all they lost?

E) Exposed. How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

At first? Not at all. Most days, Kellogg wishes he could forget his own past, Sole has no need to hear that sob story. No, he’s very reserved in the early stages.

When they've 'been together' for awhile, he may start to open up though. Particularly on the softer nights, when they’ve both had a few drinks (Sole more so than him, he’s still worried about them trying to leave him if he lets his guard down), laying beside each other in the afterglow of a union not quite as rough as they used to be, he may let slip something sentimental or sweet about his family from before. While they’re walking around the Commonwealth, he may mumble about some memory of growing up on the west coast, and eventually Sole will have enough information to get a clear picture of his life, but it definitely comes in bits and pieces that they'll need to sort out.

L) Love Letters. How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Sole did all the work for him, really. Came right into his clutches, as willingly as one can. Though, maybe they didn’t expect that he’d take such a liking to them. Nor did he, though.

Sole had always intrigued him, from the moment he saw them in their freezer. When he first started thinking about them, it just never stopped. Even when Sole chased him down, when they were spitting and cursing and their face was bunched up into a defiant snarl, that only made him more interested. He couldn’t believe the fight this pre-war suburban family-type had in them. After that meeting, there was no courting, no following them, no second-guessing himself. It ended there.

It was easy, holding their kid over their head like that, holding the information of where the Institute was and how to get there from them, their desperate eyes promising they’d do anything for the knowledge he had. Yes, it was easy after that, and so long as they knew that he had access to their son, that he could reach Shaun and they couldn’t, so long as they knew Kellogg was mad enough not to make idle threats about the safety of their child, Sole simply had to stay by his side. Or else.

L) – (M) Mask. Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Kellogg really is a simple man at heart. He is who he is, as unpleasant as that man may be. If anything, he can sometimes be softer with Sole than he is on the surface, but only when they are bending to his will, allowing him to remain beside them with just the right amount of fight in their actions, submitting, but with their teeth clenched and a glint in their eye, that’s when he chooses to show that softer side. That man that he wasn't, but that he once thought he had the capability to become. Conrad always knew he was a tough fucker, a mercenary, a killer, but when he’d had his family, the people he didn’t deserve, he became disillusioned, thinking his life could be anything but what it is now. Though… with Sole, maybe he can try to pretend once more. If only for a little while.

O) Oppression. How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Most everything. What the hell do they have left to lose, anyway? Everyone they love is gone, everywhere they could go has changed, the world isn’t safe, it isn’t theirs anymore. No, now it’s his. And so are they. Sole has no need for anyone else. Why would they? He can protect them, care for them, keep them in line and off the cruel streets. Hell, maybe one day he’ll even take them to the Institute... Maybe.

For now though, they stick by his side, they remain with him and have minimal contact with anyone else. They show too much friendliness to some stranger, and Kellogg’s liable to end that conversation in a most gruesome way. What the hell else could they need? Who else could they need? Nah, they’re sticking by him, doing as he says and as he wants until the day their escape is successful, and if it isn’t? Well then, ‘till the day he dies or gets tired of them, whichever comes first.

G) Game. Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling escape?

He’d like his partner having a bit of fight in them. It’s thrilling in a way, but it’s also… cute, endearing. They really think they have the capability of escaping from him? Really? Fine, let them try, let them realize the hard way that that isn’t the case. Kellogg would like to play their game for a time, mess with their mind, let them think they've gotten away for good this time, and then, at the last second, he’d foil their plans and make it clear that he’s known their intentions as long as they had them in that pretty little head of theirs. Kellogg can be cruel, especially at the beginning. As he grows more attached to his partner though, over time, it becomes less entertaining, less endearing to him, and he’ll put a stop to it, even if he has to take drastic measures.

G) – H) Hell. What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Well, the day they met wasn’t great… Though, there have been some certainly rough days since. Kellogg is a ruthless mercenary, he’s violent and unpredictable, but he’s also remarkably calm. He’d be able to tear Sole’s life to pieces, to cut down any remaining loved ones who might seek to help safeguard them from him, and he’ll do it without so much as blinking an eye. He’s cold, so even when Sole has no other choice but to turn to him for comfort, when Kellogg is all they have left, he’s void of sympathy. That’s the greatest hell of all for Sole. Everything that he took from them, everything he's done to destroy their life, and yet... he will never apologize, never regret what he’s done, at least, as far as they can tell. Kellogg's been through that very same shit, and it hurt, but he made it through, and Sole will too. He'll make sure of that. Whether they want to or not.

MacCready:

M) Mask. Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

MacCready tends to be pretty blatant and honest, but sometimes his actions are more over-exaggerated when he’s with Sole. Though, it’s only because he cares so much. When he was with the gunners, he couldn’t be vulnerable or emotional, he couldn’t talk about Duncan, or Lucy, or his childhood, he had to be as stoic and ruthless as he could, just to fit in with those bastards. Now though, he feels like he can open up, show his true colors to his partner, even if they’re overexaggerated or ugly. That’s what partners are for though, right? They help you to find the best version of yourself, and they put up with the worst. If he can’t be real with them, then he can’t be real at all.

A) Affection. How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

It’s a bit difficult for MacCready to get used to affection again, he hasn’t been intimate in any sort of tender sense with anyone since his late wife, and initiating at first feels like some sort of betrayal.

Later though, as he grows more used to it, once he has that little heart to heart with Sole about their own feelings of guilt regarding their late spouse, MacCready finds it within himself to start being more physically affectionate with his partner. He still is more tentative than most, and so he tends not to force anything on Sole if they’re clear about not wanting it, but if they tolerate him, or even reciprocate, MacCready likes to rest an idle hand on them and steal kisses throughout the day. He’s young, and he’s in love again, so the more comfortable he grows, the more touchy-feely he gets.

C) Cruelty. How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

The merc isn’t one to hold back on the occasional mockery, he pokes fun at them, and makes rude comments every once in a while, but he wouldn’t say he’s cruel. If Sole thinks he’s bad, they should’ve seen the gunners, that shi-, that crap was cruel.

He’d be firm about certain rules, and might raise his voice or knock over some inconsequential items in his state of frustration at Sole’s potential lack of compliance, but he wouldn’t hurt them physically. He’s lost one person due to his own negligence, he’s not going to be the cause of hurting, or losing, another. He can’t.

C) -- Fight. How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He’d be frustrated as hell. Why did they feel the need to resist him? He cares about them, they opened up to him, he thought they cared for him too! If that’s the case, why are they being so difficult?! MacCready blames it on their own feelings of guilt. He knows what it’s like to feel bad about being able to move on after losing the one you love, but it’s what their late spouses would’ve wanted, right? Can’t Sole see that? Them being together… it’s what’s right. They’re two sides of the same coin, two halves of a whole, they have so much in common; and he understands their reservations, but they can’t let that part of them win. One day they’ll see it his way, one day they’ll forgive themselves for moving on, and then they can be together, and he’ll never have to worry about them running from him, or refusing him like this again.

R) Regret. Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let them go?

He doesn’t see a reason to feel guilty, they both love each other, right? He’s doing this for both of them. Sole cares for him, they said so, this is what they want, they’re just a little confused right now, but that makes sense. After everything they’ve been through, they just need some time to move past it, MacCready gets it, and he’ll be there with them the whole way through. He knows that every time they come to him, admitting that they’re unhappy, or accusing him of being controlling, it’s really stemming from their own insecurities about their feelings for him, but he can be patient for the one he loves. They just need time.

E) Exposed. How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

MacCready likes opening up to someone. He finally feels like he can, so he’s very vulnerable with them, more so than anyone he’s ever met, ever been with. Sole knows his past better than even Lucy did, and he likes it that way. Maybe if they see the way he opens up to them, how honest he is about his background, about his feelings, they’ll feel more inclined to be honest with him, to open up on their own and let him be there for them, the way they’ve been for him all these months.

A) -- Blood. How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He’s killed over some of the smallest things. Killed for caps, killed for his family, killed for strangers with a contract, even killed over a spilled drink one bad night; killing for Sole would be easy. Spilling his own blood might be a little more difficult, and he would never put Duncan in harm’s way, but MacCready’s almost died for Sole before, just as they have for him. There’s no bond stronger than one like that, so if it comes to it, he’ll bleed for them, he’d kill for them, and if he thought Duncan was safe, that he would be looked after, MacCready would even die for his Sole.

D) Darling. Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

MacCready has a hard time seeing it as “against their will,” since they were so open with him at the start. Now, he feels as though their hesitation is just a result of their own self-condemnation, and he feels bad for them. He empathizes, he really does, but at some point, they both deserve to move on, to be happy.

Unless Sole is very blatant about Mac crossing a line, he won’t even know he’s doing it, so he may end up taking away a few rights, or doing something Sole doesn’t want without even realizing it. He tries to be considerate of their feelings, but MacCready often deludes himself into thinking they don’t know what they want, or what’s best for them, but he gets it, he’s been there, and he wants to guide them through it, even if at first they seem unhappy. He knows it’ll all be for the best in the end.

Y) Yearn. How long do they pine for their darling before they snap?

He honestly doesn’t think much of Sole at first, just another boss, another job. But maybe there was a little something extra to them…but he’d tried not to linger on it. This was caps, nothing more. After they helped him with the gunners, and he learned more about their past though, he was hooked. The two of them have so much in common, and they’re not an assho-- a jerk, like literally everyone else he’s met in the wasteland (except Lucy). So, how could he not fall for them?

After that, his mind was made up. He made his confession, and they admitted they felt similarly, and that was the happiest day of his life. He had someone to love again, someone to live for by his side, someone who cares about him. All he needed now was Duncan, then they could be happy. And once Sole found Shaun, they could all be a family. It’s everything MacCready's has ever wanted.

Nick:

N) Naughty. How would they punish their darling?

He would mostly give punishments just by taking away some of their freedoms. If they want to act unruly, then he’ll just have to be sure to keep a better eye on them. Nick’s also big on lectures, making Sole feel as though he’s the victim in the situation, for having to deal with their horrible behavior when all he’s trying to do is look out for their safety. Usually he’ll sulk for a bit, and give them an exasperated sigh or two when they speak and after a day he’ll be gracious enough to forgive them. Nick makes it so that Sole doesn’t want to disobey him. Not with violent actions or shouted profanities, but with his own disappointment and clear distaste for their own actions when all he does is look out for their well-being.

I) Ideals. What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Nick has just craved companionship for his entire existence. The flesh and blood Nick had Jenny, and that was the happiest he remembered being, and that wasn’t even him. Helping others brought synth Nick as much joy as he thought he would be capable of, but once he met Sole… What he thought was happiness was just blown out of the water. He wanted to be with them all of the time, didn’t want to lose this feeling, no matter what it takes.

He loves being around them, talking with them, being romantic with them, having the opportunity to feel more human than he ever has, and that’s all he wants. Maybe marriage is in the cards eventually, but if they just remain together, Nick doesn’t need a certificate to prove that he’s in love with them. As long as Sole sticks by him, he couldn’t care less what his future holds. Ideally, he would continue to help people with them as his partner throughout, and they can live a long and happy life together until a time Sole feels like retiring, then he’ll remain by their side until… Well, let’s not think of “untils” quite yet. They have a long way to go until then.

C) Cruelty. How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Nick isn’t a cruel man. He wouldn’t make the situation worse by making life hell for his partner, or by bad-mouthing them for their ignorance or misplaced trust, in truth, he wishes they hadn’t been so kind to him, shown him their capacity to love him, a capacity almost no one else shared. Then, maybe, he could’ve let them be. Now though, he needs them. They’re the only ones he can really relate to, the only ones from his time, the only ones with the capacity to love him despite what he is, and they, their relationship, needs to be protected. They don’t belong out here in the post-apocalyptic Commonwealth, and he wants to provide some semblance of familiarity if he can, to the life they knew before. How can he, out in the open, in the wastes? No, they have to be here for him, with him, if he is going to pull off this trick.

K) Kisses. How do they act around or with their darling?

Nick acts as though nothing is out of the ordinary. Sure, he’s more controlling than most, and Sole doesn’t really have the option to leave him, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make them want to stay by his side all of the time regardless. He’s romantic, taking them out to dinner and bringing them flowers, taking long moonlit walks and giving soft kisses in the candlelight. He’s supportive, being the first to help them when they're in need, giving advice and pats on the back, being a shoulder to cry on and their voice of reason.

Nick wants them to be happy. Wants them to feel what he does when he’s with them. He loves Sole more than he thought was possible, and he makes sure they know that. It’s why they can’t leave, after all. After being this happy, after knowing someone so kind, so gentle, someone he can relate to, someone he has the capacity to love, how could he ever choose to be away from them?

Piper:

P) Patience. How patient are they with their darling?

It depends on the day for Piper. For the most part, she tends to be patient with Sole, she loves them and has had plenty of practice with her little sister on being more tolerant, no matter her mood at the time. However, she’s only human. If Piper is having a bad day, she’s bound to be more short with her love than usual. Especially if they are the cause of her rotten mood, Piper might raise her voice with them or take away a few of their privileges, as though they were a child of Nat's age, but she’s not likely to do much more than that.

I) Ideals. What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Piper has never had an issue with her own independence, or with taking care of Nat on her own, but she does admit, the idea of having a companion to share her life with, one that will stick by her side, who she can depend on under pressure, who understands what it's like to be responsible for someone else's care… That doesn’t sound too bad. She’s not asking for much, she just wants their attention, their presence, their know-how as a parent, their support, then she could imagine herself sharing a life with someone, with Sole. They’re just… They’re perfect. It’s not Piper’s fault that they fit every bit of criteria she had for a romantic partner, so if they don’t like it, she’s sorry, but, people like Sole are impossible to find nowadays, and they just don’t get that, do they?

She doesn’t want much, she just wants them. She wants to be able to have a family, to have someone to navigate this world with, so she can have time to write and focus on her career without having to drag Nat into every little aspect of her life. She wants someone to help her, so that she can help Nat. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

P) -- Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Maybe she could move on if they just escaped. It’d be difficult, but if they felt that strongly about it, and she never saw them again, Piper could move on. It would take a long time though, and relationships just wouldn’t be in the cards for her anymore. If Sole died though… Man, she would go on, she would have to. For Nat’s sake, but she wouldn’t want to. She’d get even more lost in her writing, maybe have a few years of stories that hardly anyone could decipher, she might even separate herself from Nat, having her sister live with Nick or Ellie for awhile while she sorts herself out, afraid that what she’s become could rub off on the one she loves most, the only one left. Piper couldn’t do that to Nat.

After a few years though, the pain would start to dull. She would still pour herself into her stories, but her research would be well done and well founded now, she would be a bit more stable, and finally she would write her own obituary to the one she loved, before finally letting it go, bringing Nat back to live with her, and making the changes necessary to be the proper role model for her sister. So that Nat will never have to endure the pain of loss that Piper felt, and the regret that still haunts her for her treatment of Sole when they were by her side.

E) Exposed. How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

It takes Piper a long time to open up and show Sole her vulnerable side. She’s really more comfortable at the receiving end of that sort of thing, but she does eventually let them in. The reporter may beat around the bush a bit though, whether she means to or not. It’s just difficult for her to open up too much. If Sole does so a bit on their own, it will prompt her to feel more comfortable more quickly though, and really, she loves talking about Nat.

Opening up about her past allows Piper a moment of distraction from what’s happening between her and Sole. She knows that she cares for them, and she knows their relationship is probably unhealthy, but the more she seeks their comfort, the more she hears about their past and reveals bits of her own, the more she realizes how perfect they are for one another.

R) Regret. Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let them go?

She would regret it, and some nights when she knows they're unhappy, when they open up and are honest with her, she may come close to letting them go. But then she thinks about it. About how perfect they are, how they’re everything she’s ever needed in a partner, how she'll never be able to find someone that compares to them, how they met and felt that instant connection, how Sole woke from their ice nap at this exact year, this exact time, just so they could meet her. There’s no way all of that could be by coincidence, and Piper can’t let them slip away, not when it’s so clear they’re meant to be together.

Preston:

P) Patience. How patient are they with their darling?

He tends to be very patient with them. In all honesty, Preston is patient with everyone, and his darling is certainly no exception. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t lose it occasionally with them. The minuteman’s checkered past has left him with a temper in his moments of desperation, and there are certain actions that Sole may take that he will not put up with. If they become violent towards him, or any innocent people, he won’t be happy.

Generally his show of impatience comes with the accompaniment of a raised voice and, if they really push him, a physical response, such as striking a wall or kicking at some junk he found on the ground. He would never hurt Sole, or anyone else unless they were being dangerous, and it really takes a lot for him to get to the point of shouting, despite all he’s been through, but he will go there, if he feels he must.

R) Regret. Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let them go?

All the time. Every day he would consider whether or not what he did was in their best interest, or only in his. If they expressed unhappiness, he would feel extraordinarily guilty, and would constantly second-guess his own actions towards them, and the way he restricts their freedoms in a way he knew was wrong. But Sole saved him. Until he repays their debt he can’t leave their side, and even then…

They make him so happy, he loves them, and feels as though he can’t live without them. He wished he didn’t go to such drastic measures, but he’s never loved anything like he loves Sole, and if he lost them… Preston doesn’t think he could move on from that.

E) Exposed. How much of their heart do they bear to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He tries to be honest with them, hoping his sincerity and desperation keeps them “willingly” by his side (don’t tell him that that’s manipulation). So, he often lets them know how important they are to him, how he couldn’t live without them, he’s honest about his past experiences and struggles, and he always makes sure they know that without their aid, he never would have made it out of Concord, or out of the spiral of guilt and grief that followed Quincy.

S) Stigma. What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc.)?

Sheer desperation, and the need to survive. Preston knows that his behavior is unhealthy, that his dependency on his partner isn’t fair, but he doesn’t know what else to do. All he knows is that without Sole, he would be dead. So they have to stay by his side, it’s an instinct, it’s a necessity, a survival tactic, he doesn’t know where it came from, but he knows he needs Sole in his life, whether it’s healthy or not. He feels horrible, and maybe one day things will change, but for now, this feels like the only option in the world.

T) Tears. How do they feel about seeing their darling scream/cry/or isolate themselves?

It breaks his heart. Most nights he catches them like this, Preston curls up at their side (if they let him) and pulls them in tight, shedding his own tears and spilling a slew of apologies to them as he holds them close and wipes their cheeks dry with a gentle hand. He doesn’t want this either, doesn’t want to hurt them, and he doesn’t understand how he could make someone he loves this much, so incredibly unhappy. He wishes there was another way, and he tells them this, even as his grip tightens on their body at the thought of losing them.

O) Oppression. How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Preston just wants them by his side. As long as they are helping the people of the Commonwealth, taking their responsibilities as General into account, and he’s with them, the minuteman is satisfied. That’s all he requires. Sole can speak to others, they can go where they please, eat and drink what they wish, take rests whenever they want, he just needs to be there with them through it all.

N) Naughty. How would they punish their darling?

He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Guilt trips are his only form of ammunition against his love. If Sole leaves him, they may never see him again. They are his will to live, wrapped up in one gorgeous person is his entire willpower to keep going; if they leave, they take that willpower with them. Their only punishment is living with their decision if they leave him, living with the consequences, living without him.

X6-88:

X) Xoanon. How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

X6 thinks Sole is just about the best thing that’s happened to the Institute since Shaun arrived and they began the process of creating Gen 3 Synths. He reveres them more than he has anyone else and is more devoted to them than he would ever like to admit. But romance-wise, he’s not sure he’s a good fit for Sole. He’s not even human, how could he ever care for them properly, in the way the director of the Institute deserves? He struggles with it for a long time before deciding that he cannot rest until Sole is his. Whatever they need, he has the ability to provide, all he needs are the proper circumstances and he believes he does have the capacity to be what is best for them.

6) -- Fight. How would they feel if their darling fought back?

It would annoy him more than anything. X6 is fully capable of restraining them, and Sole is aware of this. Why they would try to escape him, he doesn’t know; and why they would put in the effort to actually fight him on it, he can’t pretend to understand, but X6 will be able to put an end to it soon enough. He’ll make it known to them how ridiculous it is that they are trying to fight back, in both the way he easily seems to manhandle them, and in the way his unamused voice growls out in warning.

8) -- Hell. What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

X6 doesn’t tolerate anyone else taking up Sole’s attention. As far as he’s concerned, if you’re not the Institute, Shaun, or himself, you have no right to occupy Sole’s space physically or mentally. His control will go so far as to remove these human obstacles from the equation of Sole’s life. Permanently, if need be.

8) -- Stigma. What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc.)?

The courser has had little to no reference for proper societal behavior for his entire existence. He’s not meant to have the feelings that Sole inspires, he’s never felt them before, and he has no idea how he’s meant to react, but if X6 is anything, he’s intense, and absolutely relentless. He puts his everything into whatever he’s doing, it’s what he’s always done, always been encouraged to do, so why would now be different?

A part of him understands that what he’s doing, how he’s acting, isn’t normal, and it certainly isn’t proper, given that he’s a synth and Sole is human. A very important human, at that, but he feels so strongly about Sole, he doesn’t know how else to express it. Even if it is wrong, if acting otherwise means giving up Sole, X6 doesn’t want to be right.

178 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 3 years

Note

while your currently drunk you can think about what it would be like to go clubbing with keigo. His possessive nature would def jump out wanting to keep you close at all times. you’d rock against his body as he holds you close keeping a keen eye but also enjoying the way your body sways over him. if he’s also inebriated who’s to say he won’t press you against the nearest wall rubbing himself against you and whispering in your ear how he could take you right here and now 🥰🥰 just a lil something

i am seeing this sober (and with my hangover cured lmao) BUT lemme tell u... the clubbing keigo brainrot is oh so 😩💕

(nsfw)

warnings: dubcon, a little yandere keigo, alcohol, drunk reader, drunk keigo, public sex, dacryphilia

...

Keigo is particularly possessive. Not necessarily in a way that is a cause for alarm, but more so something of note.

You've come to expect the way he hovers close to you in public. How he always wants to have his hands on you, whether that be the firm press of his palm on your lower back, or a tight grip on your waist with his chin hooked over your should. Really, any way he can, he stakes his claim.

It's a little more overt and shameless when the environment allows it to be.

Occasionally, there are small clubbing events for heroes and their company to unwind. Usually open bar. Frequently messy. But cell phones are confiscated at the door, so it's more than welcomed. Heroes really never get a chance to be, so why not be sloppy together?

Keigo loves to take you to them. He loves getting the chance to show you off and let anyone who looks your way that you are his. He curbs the urge in public, sure, but here? It doesn't matter. Here, there's hungry eyes that follow your every move, but they wouldn't dare try anything. Keigo doesn't let you out of his sight. Doesn't stop touching you, and he makes sure that anyone who looks sees how fucked you are for him.

After a few drinks, you’re bolder. Your words slur a bit, not enough to make him worry, but just enough for the sway and circling of your hips to be a little freer. You can get a bit bashful around so many pros, but with the stain of liquor on your lips you’re more than happy to dance the night away.

Keigo adores it. Loves that he gets to hold your hips almost to the point of bruising as you giggle and twirl to the club beats. He loves how unrestrained you both get to be, loves how you rock against him, back arching and neck craning to nuzzle of your nose against his jaw. He can’t tell if you’re just being sweet and gracious or quietly asking for more.

He has subtle restraint, he always does, but with a few shots having burned his throat earlier in the evening... it’s easier to indulge. He guiltlessly drags you back into him, grinding against your ass. You roll your hips back into his, leaning into his wandering touches. He can feel your breath hitch as his hands slip lower and plays with the hem of your dress.

Keigo wishes he had an ounce of shame (no, he really doesn’t, this is way too good) as he backs you into a darker corner, wings ruffled and raised. He gets a little rougher, pushing you up against the velour-covered wall, chest first. You flatten to it and brace yourself with sweaty palms. Sweet as can be, you flash him wobbly, wanting smile. You grind back into him, spine curved perfectly under the satin of your dress.

He knows people are watching, and honestly? Let them. Let them see how desperate you are. The strobing lights and neon obscure you enough that the details of you will be hidden, but they’ll know. Keigo’s wings ruffle at the thought debauching you in front of the impromptu, wanting crowd.

He lays his body over yours, feathers shuddering in time with his heavy breath. You’re rolling your hips back into his crotch, his cock is hard enough that he’s leaking (who knew the thought of casual ownership got him off this much?)

His lips drag over your neck, teething at the soft juncture of your shoulder. You moan his name, voice cracking with desire that makes him wild. His forearm braces next to yours, and he presses you into the wall, makes you feel the weight of all of him, wings and lean muscle.

He pulls from your neck with a growl and can’t help but pleased with the fat bruise he left behind.

“I should bruise you a collar of these,” He drips into your ear, teeth tugging at your earlobe. “If fucking you here doesn’t show everyone whose you are, that would get the message across, don’t you think?”

Your breath hitches from under the palm he slips over your lower tummy.

“Please, Kei’.”

He doesn’t know what exact thing you’re begging for, but he’ll give you everything. Anything. He rucks up your dress, and a hand slipping down the front of your panties and teasing along your slit, debating.

If he were at home, he’d take the time to prepare. He prefers to work you open on his fingers and tongue for a good while before fucking you. He doesn’t feel... right fucking you without you cumming once, twice, three times (as many times as you can stand), Under normal circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances.

His hold slips from your hip to your jaw, turning your gaze to his and goddammit, if the sight doesn’t take his breath away. Your eyes are glassy, pupils wide and inky, and your lips are parted, perfectly. Wanting and waiting.

(He briefly debates fucking your throat but decides against it. He’d prefer to lick you clean on the limo ride home.)

Keigo presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath and licking into your mouth. It’s sloppy, he can feel the spit dripping down your chin as he massages your tongue with his. It’s fucking filthy and he loves it. The liquor is just making him ab bit more... honest.

He pulls away to unbutton his pants, untucking his breezy shirt to pull out his cock with a few lazy strokes. The little whine you give has him back on you, covering your body with his and teasing you sex with a single finger over your panties.

“I’d make you beg,” he muses, softly against your ear again, “But I have a feeling you’re a little too impatient to do so properly.”

You sputter something, whether it’s a denial or affirmation, Keigo doesn’t care. He’s already pulling your panties to the side, and slipping two fingers between your lips, hardly prep at all things considered.

Keigo spits down onto his dick and calls it good enough.

You rock back into him, shuddering and panting. You’re unabashed in it, ignoring the eyes in the room, all of your attention on him. The thought makes his cock twitch in his hand, and he can’t wait any longer.

He hikes one of your legs up high and spears into you in one swift motion with a beat of his wings.

Your breath punches from your lungs and your palms smack against wall. You’re already weak in his arms, from the alcohol and Keigo’s thick cock splitting you. Despite the lack of preparation, you’re less tense than you could be. Thank god for vodka.

All the same, Keigo starts slow. He wants you to hurt when this is over. He wants you to bear his bruises and imprints. You should be limping when he’s done with you. He’ll take care of you at home, patch you up how you both like so much, but for now--

He wants to leave an... impression.

Keigo picks up at his pace, gasping out a breath as he bottoms out, grinding against your ass and insides in a way that has you clenching and slurring out little pleas for more. And god, he’s happy to oblige.

He picks up his tempo, hand slipping tightening around your jaw, tucking your face to his and nipping at your lips. Your claw at the wall in front of you, but all of your leverage is in Keigo’s hands, and he uses it well.

The beat of the of the club music is the perfect tempo, the thump of it mostly disguises the slap of his hips against yours. But even the shadows of the rainbow lights can’t hide how he’s fucking ruining you. You’re hiccupping out cries for ‘more, please Keigo!’ loud enough that a few of his fucking colleagues have inched closer. It makes something in Keigo burn and he quickly goes for your neck again.

And sinks his teeth in hard enough for you to sob.

It has you clenching around him, and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The rhythm has his insides clenching, and he wants nothing more than to fill you up--

The thought of it, of you leaking with him, has white explode around the edges of his vision.

He spills inside of you, thick and hot and you gasp at the feeling. You fumble for his hand, and Keigo clasps yours easily, squeezing. The cant of his hips goes sloppy, just like the two of you.

Softened, he slips out of you. But Keigo is quick to replace his cock with two fingers, plugging you and tsking.

“You didn’t cum, did you, dove?”

You shake your head, still half-crying and needy, “N-no, I d-didn’t.”

“Can you keep yourself upright if I fuck you on my fingers?” Keigo muses, though it’s a genuine question. “Be honest.”

You swallow and rub at your wet, streaky cheeks, “I d-dunno. ‘M really shaky, Kei’.”

He already knows that, but it’s cute that you tell him like he’s not the cause of it.

“It’s a good thing you’ve got me then, isn’t it?” Keigo kisses your cheek, too kind for how filthy you are. “I’ll keep you up, sweetheart.”

You nod, give a little ‘thank you’ that gets broken as he spread his fingers in your cunt. His own cum drips down his wrist and he can't bother to care. He can’t bother to care about anything that isn’t the sweet little whines or the flush that is dusting your cheeks beneath tears and smeared makeup.

He bullies the bundle of nerves inside you without any care other than making you fall apart. Maybe it’s bad, the desire he has to force you to come undone by his hand in front of his peers. You’re his partner, and a bit illusive consider the relative secrecy of your relationship.

What a goddamn introduction.

He slips another hand around your front and rolls your clit beneath to fingers. Keigo can’t help sucking another bruise into your neck, like the first one wasn’t enough of a statement.

He speeds up his treatment as you breath gets more ragged, as you repeat his name to the flash of the strobes and lean back into him. You tense around him as you cum, crying out with a thump of your head against the wall. He holds you through it, not slowing or faltering as you shake and sputter.

Carefully, Keigo lets down the leg he’s had pinned. He anticipates how they falter, and already has an arm around your waist to keep you upright.

“Thank you,” You murmur, your voice gentle and soft. Far too soft for what you’d just done. It’s sweet though, the way you’re pliant for him as he straightens you up.

You’re filthy, thighs covered in a mix of him and you. Keigo’s damp in his own boxer briefs and it’s not exactly... comfortably. And certainly not ideal for dancing.

You turn toward him. Your arms wrap around his neck and god, you’re too cute as you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Maybe you’re sobering up, or maybe you’re cock drunk, he isn’t sure. But it’s the same comfort that you need. He smooths a hand up your back, laying kisses over your temples and hair lines.

His colleagues are still watching, maybe more than before, because Hawks has a reputation for being a greedy, impulsive bastard, but what he doesn’t have is any reputation for being sweet.

The vulnerability of it has him moving his wings to encircle the two of you. A bit of much-needed privacy.

“How about I call us a ride home?” Flying drunk is never good idea. (He found out the hard way.)

You nod, gripping the front of his shirt, “I don’t think I can’t dance anymore.”

“I imagine you can’t, huh, dovey?” He teases with another peck to your cheek.

You whine and beat his chest with your fist for a moment without a hint of ire. The night is still relatively young but given the drink in your veins and the cum in your cunt, perhaps it would be best to turn in for the evening.

(Or Keigo could fuck your throat on the ride home. The thought is still appealing.)

You mutter something unintelligible against his neck, and Keigo silently reminds himself to make sure you drink a bottle or two of water before bed. Maybe he can get a snack in your belly before you knock out for the night.

(Or, maybe, Keigo could have his own ‘snack’ by cleaning your cunt with his tongue as you doze off--)

Keigo purrs with his thoughts as he tucks his wings to his back, ushering you to the exit, all the while feeling the (horny, jealous, surprised) stares of his colleagues at his back.

#salem writes #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #drabble #hawks imagines #hawks smut #hawks #ANYWAYS #god... it's been awhile since i've written smut #feels GOOD #still managed to make it soft #but lemme tell ya i have so much clubbing brain rot #and possessive kei makes my brain go BRRRR

311 notes · View notes

kunikuzxshi · 3 years

Text

Little one shot for Ji-woon Hak because I thought he’s kinda hot

I really need to write for more fandoms other than bnha once in a while

——————————————————————————

2 days, 3 hours, and 24 minutes. That’s exactly how long you’d been in the same room for.

You were blindfolded and gagged, barely being able to breathe. The air smelled foul, and the little air that slipped under your blindfold stung your eyes. Tears dampened the cloth blindfold to the point where the are around your eyes couldn’t hold much more, which eventually lead to your tears spilling down your face. It was quiet. Nothing moved. It seemed that the room was empty besides you and whatever caused the foul smell.

The door opened. You immediately turned your head to face where the sound was coming from. You stayed silent as footsteps became louder and closer, creating a gentle rhythm in the quiet room.

One.. two.. three.. four.. stop.

You listened to their breath. Despite the circumstances, it soothed you. The once quiet room had been driving you insane more than anything. You craved to know that you weren’t alone. You listened as the footsteps started again, and as the person moved away. You listened to the shuffling of what you assumed was clothes, before something big moved. You pulled at the rope which tied your hands and legs, but it did nothing. Once again, the footsteps grew closer before you felt a tug on the piece of cloth around your eyes.

“Don’t cry sweetie, you can’t ruin those beautiful eyes of yours now!” He spoke, his voice slowly getting higher pitched.

You looked around the room. In each corner, there were several bodies piled up, no wonder it smelled so bad. Your eyes went back to the purple haired man in front of you. His hands were gloved and torn in certain spots. Blood stained the sleeves of his jacket and said gloves. His facial expression showed a calm man, but his eyes glistened with insanity. Never in your life had you been so terrified of the same yellow eyes that always seemed so gentle towards you. You tried your best to inch away from him, only to find a hand stopping you.

“What’s wrong? I did all this for you! I did all this so you could stay with me, so what’s the problem?!” He asked, his tone changing from confused to angry in a matter of seconds. His eyes grew wider before narrowing, almost staring into your soul. “Tell me, what’s wrong? Oh wait, you can’t! I’m sorry but I can’t let all my hard work go to waste!” He tilted your chin up towards his face.

His smile, which normally would appear as normal, looked twisted. In public, you could almost mistake him for a normal man, but not when you got up close to him.

“Don’t cry darling, it’ll make me sad too.” He said, his lips forming a pout at the end before going back to that same corrupted smile.

A hand reached for your gag. Once removed, it was immediately replaced by a finger.

And then another.. and another, before being removed as well.

“Don’t try anything, it won’t end well for either of us, ok?” He said, before inching his face closer to yours, eyes flickering between your puffy eyes and your soft lips. “I’ll take care of you, just be good for me...”

With that, you felt his lips on yours.

#dbd the trickster #dbd ji woon hak #ji woon hak #ji woon hak x reader #jiwoon hak #dbd trickster

203 notes · View notes

softpromise · 3 years

Note

Hello Softie! I’d like to request Zelda and Link sneaking out of the castle… for what you may decide :)

Thank you for giving me my very first request - and making it such a fun one, too!! :D

~1250 words, because I have no idea how to write anything short, hehe

“Princess Zelda, wait!”

She risked a glance over her shoulder and saw him chasing after her. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve caught up to her, easily. But right now, she had the upper hand: while he was weighed down by Goddess knows how many pounds of armor, she was wearing lightweight Sheikah garb. She laughed almost maniacally as she sprinted away from him. She heard one of the guards at the gate call out to Link far behind her.

“Sir Link, what are you—”

“Can’t talk!” He called back to them, chasing her still. She heard his armor rattling and clanging together. “Keep an eye on things! I’ll be back!”

“But where are you going?” The guard shouted, his voice fading as Zelda put more distance between herself and them.

She peeled out towards Castle Town, slowing her pace just enough to dart between street vendors and their carts. She burst between a small family, giggling when she heard the mother screeching after her.

“Sorry!” She yelled over her shoulder, not meaning it in the least. Hair got in her face as her head shot forward again and she jumped over a dog like it was a hurdle.

Zelda couldn’t hear his clanging armor anymore; whether that was because of the din of the crowds or because she’d outrun him, she couldn’t be sure. Either way, she should’ve had enough headway that ducking into an alley to catch her breath would be all right.

She peered around the wall one last time before sinking to the ground, tilting her head back. She was breathing hard; she tried to keep up with physical activity, but with the new shipment of books in the library, working out hadn’t been her first priority.

Truthfully, it had never been, she thought with a breathy giggle. Oh, well.

A tap on her shoulders jolted her from her panting reverie and she scrambled back onto her hands.

“Hey,” he said, staring down at her as he crossed his arms. She looked up at him, her heart racing. He looked so serious; so intimidating.

“Hi.”

He offered her a hand and she took it, but instead of letting him pull her up, she yanked him down. He let out an awkward cry and fell to his knees over her. She laughed, leaning up to kiss him.

“How long do you think we have before they come looking?” She asked, still working on catching her breath.

“An hour or two, maybe,” he said, then he tucked his hands under her thighs. With a grunt, he stood up, lifting her with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, not bothering to ask how he’d managed to change into regular clothing and catch up with her so quickly. Or, you know, how in Hylia’s name he wasn’t out of breath.

“That should be enough time, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. Unless…” He looked up, his brows furrowing.

“Unless? Unless what?”

“Unless I spend the whole time kissing you,” he said, then held her up against the wall and made to do just that. She smiled against his lips, intertwining her fingers behind his neck. She nearly got lost in it, but then his stomach rumbled, and there was no way she could ignore that. She snorted and giggled into his mouth and he pulled away, grinning sheepishly.

“Maybe we should stick to the plan,” she teased, loving the way it made him blush. He blushed a lot around her, but it still managed to give her butterflies every time. If he hadn’t been holding her up, her knees probably would’ve buckled.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said, lowering her to the ground. He snuck one more chaste kiss before taking her hand and leading her out of the alley.

She sat next to him at the table, resting her chin in her hand. It never surprised her how easy it was to be out in public, without any sort of disguise, really, and still go unrecognized. In a city as big and busy as Castle Town, no one paid her much attention, it seemed. The hard part was getting out of the castle; from there, it was easy. Usually Link came up with the devious escape plans, but this time, it was all her. And yes, she had been very proud of herself.

Pretend to be running away while she was actually running away, just so Link could pretend to chase her while he was actually running away with her? It was genius, because it was obvious.

Anyway, if anything, Link was the one that people paid attention to when they left the castle. Girls in particular. Girls like their waitress, for example.

“Can I bring you anything else?” She asked after setting their tray on the table. She batted long eyelashes at Link, but he seemed immune to it. Good, Zelda thought. But when he slipped an arm around her shoulder, she realized maybe he wasn’t as immune as he seemed.

“We’re good, thanks,” he said. If the waitress’s face had soured at the gesture, she was quick to recover, smiling before she left their table.

“Have you ever noticed that you get more attention than I do?” Zelda asked, only feeling slightly jealous.

“Are you kidding?” He asked, staring at her incredulously.

“Oh, like you didn’t notice the way she just—”

“Guys stare at you all the time,” he grumbled. “I just scare them off before you realize it.”

“What? Seriously?”

“You don’t think I can be scary if I want to?” He asked. “I’m hurt.”

“I’m sure you can be scary! I just… didn’t notice anyone looking at me, I guess.”

“That’s the point!”

“Shut up and tell me what you’re about to put on my plate,” she giggled, hitting his chest playfully.

“Ah, I’m glad you asked! Now this, this right here, is a true delicacy,” he said, rolling a circular blade across the tray. She watched, transfixed, as melted cheese stretched from the sides of the triangular slice he removed from the tray. Steam rose around it. “Plate, please.”

She picked up her plate and held it under the cheesy triangle. He ran a finger around the edges of the plate, freeing the slice from its oozy shackles before draping them over the top of it. He got himself a slice, too, the process just as mystifying to her as it was the first time.

“Go ahead,” he said, looking at her. “Take a bite.”

She looked down at it, crinkling her nose. “Don’t I need a fork?”

“Definitely not!” He exclaimed, looking aghast. She quirked a brow at him but picked up the slice and took a bite.

It was hot, but that was the last thing on her mind. Gooey cheese stretched from where she bit into it, delicious and salty but mild enough to counteract the acidity and the spices of the tomato sauce. The crust underneath was crispy at the edges, but soft and fluffy in the center, a perfect vessel for carrying the garlic and onion and basil of the sauce and the melty, creamy cheese directly to her mouth. It was a perfect, addicting combination, with a pleasant texture and even more pleasant aroma.

Only when she’d finished the entire slice did she look up to see Link staring at her. He had a brow raised, amused. Oh, yeah. He’d told her to take one bite.

“I take it you like it?”

“What is this masterpiece?” She asked, awestruck.

“Pizza,” he said, grinning. “Do you want another slice?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

#zelink #zelda #link #legend of zelda #story prompt #mine #softie writes

43 notes · View notes

hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Update: The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 6

A little pain relief for everything I've put you through

Read on AO3

When Azriel landed in the training ring he shook his head, exasperated with himself. Now that he was here, what exactly did he plan to do? He couldn’t very well find Gwyn’s room, shake her awake, and beg her to forgive him.

He took a moment to survey the ring, racks of wooden weapons, steel, shields. The Valkyries had grown from desperation to get Nesta on the right track to three females surviving the Blood Rite to a small legion of Illyrians, priestesses, and other fae. They would be outgrowing the space soon, and he pondered that as the stone glowed blue in the moonlight.

Gwyn had never spoken much about the Blood Rite, not that he could blame her. The Illyrian tradition was barbaric under normal circumstances, and much more so with Briallyn’s meddling – with the intention of killing all three of the females. Azriel couldn’t help but grin to himself.

How spectacularly had her plan backfired.

He had not admitted that Cassian was not the only one sleepless and mortified that week, but where the general was a barely-contained force of will and expression Azriel was schooled in hiding his emotion. He’d had to stay stoic – to find Briallyn and Koschei, to support his brother while his mate fought for her life. But his relationship with Gwyn had begun to develop by then, as well. Slowly. It was all he could do some days not to fly in and destroy them all. She had already suffered unspeakable horrors, and the possibility that she had been at the mercy of Illyrian males – bred with a thirst for blood and flesh – had been nearly unbearable.

When that general is finished hurting her she has to feel the soul-crushing terror of watching the next soldier take his place because you don’t come to save her.

He ran a hand through his onyx hair, remembering Nesta’s words. His shadows seemed to wither around him, drooping over his shoulders and wings. How had it come to this?

The shadowsinger sat himself down on the ground, knees drawn up. He rested his forearms on them and gazed at the ink-dark sky painted with stars. Much like his High Lord, seeing the stars had always been a comfort to Azriel – a reminder that he was free from the prison of his upbringing, that he had escaped and had replaced his father and brothers with a family that cared for him and showed him what love and brotherhood really meant.

His found family had grown so much in such a short time. He was grateful for that, for so many reasons. Rhys had emerged from Under the Mountain a broken male and Feyre had helped piece him back together. She had quickly become a glue for all of them, holding them tight and treating them with such love that Azriel was often awed by it. It wasn’t hard defending her, being dedicated to her safety as High Lady. She was far more than a monarch to him.

Then came Nesta and Elain, and what a storm that had been. Cassian and Nesta were meant to be since the beginning, but that path had been long and painful, and not just for his ears and the new… sanitation concerns for public living spaces in the house. Sometimes he was surprised that he counted Nesta as his friend. She had been intentionally hurtful so many times. How often had he seen the pain in his brother’s countenance because of something she had said or done? And yet now he understood her, maybe more than he cared to admit. She had been hurting and afraid and overflowing with self-loathing.

He had hurt Gwyn for those very reasons.

Gwyn.

He felt his shoulders and wings sag with the weight of Nesta’s questions tonight. Accusations thinly veiled as questions, and each one like a carefully crafted throwing knife plunged into his gut. He’d made her cry for at least the third time in as many weeks. Training and working to exhaustion, and not being able to sleep because of the worsening nightmares – nightmares that had cruelly transformed to remind her that he had abandoned her.

Even his shadows felt heavy.

The spymaster hung his head, shame like a blanket smothering him in summer heat. How could he ever forgive himself for causing that pain? It was a fate he had personally prevented, and now she was forced to experience it in her dreams. Because of him. Because he was a coward.

Azriel let his eyes drift closed and focused on his breathing. Sleep would not be an option tonight, and he could only pray that the priestess was sound asleep in the house, getting the rest she so desperately needed. Training didn’t seem to be in the cards either, as he sifted through the torrent of thoughts and emotions. He just needed to sit and think. And in the morning, he would speak with Gwyn as soon as he could. He would fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to.

“Azriel?”

The inky tendrils flitted to life around him at the sound of that voice. Cauldron damn him, of course she would find him now. But part of him was relieved to be able to talk to her so soon – that she was even here.

“Azriel, are you alright?” His heart squeezed at the softness of Gwyn’s voice, music to his ears – a sweet melody with harmonies of concern and kindness. How could she still be so kind to him?

“I don’t deserve to be asked that. Especially not by you,” he murmured, staring down at the stone between his feet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Azriel.” Her soft footsteps seemed to echo in his head, a ringing alarm that she was coming closer. He didn’t want to run from her, but his heart was still racing. How could he face her inevitable rejection? He noticed her shadow fall over the space between his legs and when he looked up she was crouching in front of him, eyes shining with sincerity. “You deserve for people to care about you. And I do. I won’t just leave you out here alone when anyone could see the weight of the world pressing down on you.”

Gods, but wasn’t that exactly what he had done to her?

The shadowsinger had no air in his chest as he studied her. The expression on her face was difficult to describe – caring and teasing and scolding all rolled into glittering ocean eyes and the slightest quirk of her full lips. She rose and his gaze followed as she held her hand out to him, beckoning him to stand with her. It took more courage than he cared to admit to place his violence-scarred hands in hers, but their warmth spread through him like sunshine warming his bones as she helped him to his feet.

She didn’t let go, and that gave him the strength he needed.

“Nesta found me at the river house tonight. She had… a lot to say,” Azriel began as he saw color bloom on Gwyn’s cheeks. She looked down to their hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for her to –“ He squeezed her hands and she snapped her head back up to meet his gaze.

“I deserved every single bit of venom she threw at me, Gwyn. Do not apologize.” The shadowsinger looked down, then, unsure how to move forward or which of his many transgressions he should address first. So he asked, “Is it true? About the nightmares? That… that I don’t come for you?” He could feel the emotion catching in his throat, cracking his voice. His eyes burned as he looked back to the priestess. Her lips were pressed together as she tried to keep the silver lining her eyes from spilling down over her cheeks.

“Yes,” she whispered, lashes lowering as the silent tears fell. Each droplet was a nick in his heart, the guilt and pain salting those wounds. How could she be so strong, to endure this agony and yet hold the hands that caused it? He released one of the hands and lifted it to her face, hesitating with his fingers a breath away from her cheek. Azriel had his mouth open to ask if he could touch her when she leaned her face into his palm. He brushed at her tears with his thumb before bringing up his other hand, cupping her jaw.

“Gwyn,” he breathed, pleading silently for her to look at him. The shining pools that opened to him were so enthralling, depths shimmering with trepidation. Gods, what he would do to bring back the joy in those eyes. “I will always come for you. No matter what. And I will never be able to forgive myself that there might be any part of your mind or your heart or your soul that could believe otherwise.” He watched as she took a shuddering breath, but her eyes held his and he was emboldened.

“I’m so sorry, Gwyn. For all of this. I was a fool and a coward and I let my guilt and my fear own me. And it only hurt you.”

Gwyn’s hands covered the scars on his own as she pulled them away from her face, returning them to their place entwined between them. Azriel stayed silent and her head tilted as she studied him.

“What could you possibly be afraid of?” she released a hoarse, hiccupped laugh. The shadowsinger could only gulp down a breath and look toward the stars.

“I… I was afraid of the feelings I was developing for you. And of the pain I would feel when you would see all the things I have done and the monster that I am and run away from me. Or that you would be hurt because of this darkness inside of me.” His eyes had returned to hers and, while he saw understanding swimming there, her expression was uncompromising.

“Have I not been hurt already?” Her bluntness shocked him, and he felt the slightest twinge of panic that told him to run. Her fingers tightened like a vice around his hands and he saw her eyes darken, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t you dare even think about running away, Azriel. Not now. I deserve better from you.” Even his shadows seemed focused on where their hands touched, intent on keeping them tied together.

She did. She deserved so much better. Better than what he’d done. Shame washed over him that he could have thought to flee from her. Again. He had already wronged her… too many times. But he had come here determined to right those wrongs. Azriel wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to give her what she deserved, if he would ever be good enough for her. But he sure as fuck was going to try.

“You’re right,” he conceded, that panic replaced by resolution and a faint, foolish glimmer of hope. “I’m not going anywhere.” She grinned softly and he thought his chest would burst from relief. They were still here, together, talking. They were going to figure this out.

“Why did you run, Azriel? If you care for me, like you say,” she demanded, that sea-deep stare piercing straight into his soul. “Why? Why are you afraid of me seeing who you are?”

He should have known that she would demand an explanation. Gwyn was strong and confident. She knew her worth and what she deserved, and him sharing the story behind all of his idiotic decisions was the very least of that. But he was not prepared, and he didn’t want to. He never wanted to darken others’ lives with his history.

“That’s… a long story, Gwyn,” he huffed, hoping that might be the end of it. But he saw her eyes, determination and challenge and fire blazing blue in the moonlight.

“We have all night.” She released his hands and gestured to the darkness around them. She would not be deterred, would not back down until she accomplished her goal. It was one of the many things he admired so much about her. “Should we sit?”

Azriel found himself smiling as he nodded, sitting cross-legged on the stone. Even though the impending admissions rang as a death knell in his mind, it warmed his heart to know that she cared so deeply – that she wanted to know the worst of him.

He had put her through enough, and he could relive his pain and push out his fear for this night, if only for her.

“I don’t know where to start.” He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick he was usually good at hiding. But then Gwyn – that sweet, incredible, special female – gathered his other hand with those long, pale, graceful fingers and he felt the tension ease. He looked at her, taking in the beauty and serenity of her features. Freckles were scattered over cheeks stained pink, an encouraging smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

“The beginning seems like a good place, don’t you think?”

So that’s where he began.

~~~

Azriel was not proud that he could not find the strength to look at Gwyn as he walked her through his story, but he could still hear and feel her reactions. And he dared a glance at her from time to time, trying to read everything her eyes were saying. He told her about the cell he was kept in as a child, how little touch or affection or love he had experienced, and how the shadows around him seemed to move and react and speak. She clutched his hand tighter when he told her about what had happened to them, that his brothers had set fire to them to see how he would heal. She hadn’t said a word, but he smelled the salt from tears and felt impossibly soft strokes of her thumbs over those scars.

He explained his time in Illyria and the fearsome reputation he and Cassian had to maintain, simply to make up for the circumstances of their birth. And while Cassian had been brute force and power, Azriel was deadly calm, precision, intellect, terror. He admitted to her how he had hoped to find validation in his role as spymaster under Rhysand’s father, and that he could truly revel in his duties under the right circumstances.

“Those soldiers I killed in Sangravah,” he told her. “I would have enjoyed dragging out their deaths as long as possible for what they did to you.”

Gwyn’s hands were so gentle around his as he told her how much the death and darkness grated against his soul, and how he’d had nothing to tether him to the light. He talked to her about Mor, a waste of literal centuries. And then, somehow, he told her about Elain. Not that he’d loved her, because he never had. But that he’d felt entitled to her, like he deserved what his brothers had found with the other two sisters. That he was the third brother and she was the third sister and that was all that mattered. His entitlement, his lust and desire for the bond - as opposed to love for the person - just another ugly facet of his true self.

“So I suppose that brings me to you, to these past few weeks.” Azriel made sure to meet her gaze for this. “I panicked after the necklace, because I wasn’t prepared for what it would do to me to see that hurt in your eyes. And when I told you things would go back to normal I still didn’t know what to do. I thought distance would be best between us, because I knew you would be able to draw me out of myself. And that was dangerous.”

The shadowsinger’s throat burned with emotion when Gwyn smiled softly. He could see so much roaring in her gaze, but there was no sign of pity or disgust or fear. Azriel ran his free hand through his hair before resting it atop their other clasped hands. Wetness burned his eyes, but he didn’t care.

“When I found you in the rain that night, I could smell your tears and I saw your hands – split knuckles and bruised, swollen fingers. And,” he choked down his feelings even as the tears began their descent, “and I was torn apart with the guilt. It was my fault that you were doing that to yourself. I might has well have put those marks on you with my own two vile hands.” Azriel closed his eyes and let the tears fall – not many, but enough. The silence rang through his ears, his history hanging between them. He waited for the fear, the rejection, especially when she drew her hands away from his. But his eyes snapped open when delicate calloused fingers stroked his cheeks. Gwyn had risen to her knees to dry the wetness on them, her stare a storm of trust and understanding... and compassion.

“Thank you for telling me your story, Azriel,” she whispered. “I see you. You have nothing to fear. I’m still right here.” Then she smiled brightly, and he unraveled.

“Gwyn, I don’t know if you can ever forgive me – I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t. But I care for you as more than a teacher, more than a friend. You are a light in my dark life and these past few weeks have been miserable without you in them.” Her smile widened slightly and he reached out a thumb to catch a stray tear that had fallen from those precious, beautiful eyes. He felt his own grin pushing his cheeks against her warm hands.

“I care for you, too, Azriel. As more than a friend.”

He held that watery stare until she released his face. She stood up, brushing off her knees before reaching her hands to him again to help him to his feet. He tilted his head curiously at the determination flashing in her eyes.

“Here is what’s going to happen,” she began, looking down at her hands in his. “Before we pursue anything… romantically, I need to be sure that this isn’t something that will happen again.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she pressed her fingers against his lips. “We both have darkness and fear and I understand that. But if you feel it taking over, I need you to come to me, to talk to me. Because if I open my heart to you and this happens again – if you insist on shutting yourself off from me or deciding for me what I deserve or want – I will be heartbroken.” The confession left Azriel raw.

“What can I do, Gwyn? How can I reassure you?” He could hear the desperation in his own voice, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“We are going to go back to how things were before this mess.” She had returned her hand to his and gave both a squeeze. A shadow darted down around them, as if to approve of the contact. “The way it was that led us to realize that we feel the way we do. And you are going to prove to me that we can have what we had before I found out about that stupid, lovely necklace. Do you think you can do that?” He could have fallen to his knees seeing the hope in those ocean eyes, mirroring the spark of hope inside of him. It was something he hadn’t dared to let himself fully feel with her.

“I will.” Azriel’s voice was low and rough. “I swear it.”

“And then we can decide what comes next. And I can prove to you that your hands and your darkness are just as important to me as the rest of you.”

He was grinning like a fool, he knew. He still had a chance, because Gwyneth Berdara was the definition of grace and love. And by the Mother he would not screw this up.

He felt more than saw her wrap her arms around his back, pulling herself into him. For a moment he was frozen by the intimacy of it – shocked by her initiation of it – but he quickly let his arms settle around her waist. He breathed in, pulling her tighter, and leaned his cheek on the crown of her head.

“Don’t let me down, Shadowsinger,” she muttered into his chest. He chuckled and dared to move one hand to comb through her hair. “I want to see… what comes next.” He wanted to see, too. He wanted to know what it was like to look to the future and see more than dread and loneliness and exhaustion. He could see it with her.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Berdara.”

Tag List: @tealnymph-writes @trashforazriel @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @flora-shadowshine @positivewitch @tanvee1231 @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @vikingmagic33 @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @sagureads @katiebellf @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sv0430

Slide into those DMs or reply to this post if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

#gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fic #gwynriel #gwynriel supremacy #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fic #gwyn x azriel #azwyn #azriel x gwyn #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

73 notes · View notes

justcourttee · 4 years

Note

New idea!!! Could you write a story where Mari and Tim are full-blooded siblings except Mari was taken away from the Drakes. Mari would be Dick's age in this. The Drake's finally pass away so Bruce goes to adopt Tim but he's having trouble because Marinette is doing the same. It's a custody battle. Tim is confused because he doesn't know Mari (she was taken away before she was born and CPS wasn't dealing with that family again) but Mari knows about him. Maybe Dick/Mari?

I have a feeling I took this in a different direction than you meant for it to be, but I hope you still like it :) @elements1999

Tim’s Decision

There were two things that Timothy Jackson Drake was sure of.

One, that he had never seen Dick so flustered before in his life. The poor guy was tripping over his own feet, stumbling into the court hallway as if he had been drinking all morning, his face resembling something close to the apple Bruce forced him to eat for breakfast.

And the second, well, he was sure he had never met someone as persistently, annoyingly, upbeat as Dick Grayson until seconds ago when she reached out her hand to introduce herself.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, Timothy. This isn’t my first time reaching out, but it certainly is my first time getting through. Maybe after this, we can grab a bite to eat, get to know each other?”

Tim slightly withdrew his hand, reaching out to steady a swaying Dick. He wanted to ask him what could’ve warranted this behavior from him, but he wasn’t sure he was prepared to hear the answer.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng-”

“Please, call me Marinette! I’m not married, nor am I a middle-aged woman. I’m only 21 after all. You’re 14, right Timothy?”

“If I call you by your name, call me Tim. Timothy sounds like a rich brat.”

Marinette’s giggle earned a small smile from the boy. He had no idea who she was, but her presence was soothing and he didn’t feel any immediate danger. Besides, she wasn’t the first person to approach him in the past week. News of his parent’s death traveled very quickly and many people attempted to adopt him in hopes that his fortune would be theirs.

Bruce was quick to wave them off, offering to adopt Tim himself, but before Tim could even think about accepting, CPS contacted Bruce with the proposal from one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“I hadn’t realized that Bruce Wayne had caught your attention. I really want to make sure that you are able to have a regular childhood or at least some resemblance of a few normal years. If you think Bruce is a better option for you, I promise I’ll pull out right now, but if you have any doubts at all, I want to let you know that I want to fight for you, Tim.”

“I haven’t made any decisions yet and considering Bruce let me meet with you, I have to assume you’re not after my parent’s fortune.”

Marinette’s smile tightened at the mention of the fortune or was it his parents? He couldn’t tell. She was definitely holding something back, but they had just met and he wasn’t in any position to be pressuring her for some answers. What he was in the position to do was knock some sense into a now drooling Dick Grayson.

“Knock it off will you, you’re heavy and gross. You’re making a fool of the Wayne name and aren’t you supposed to be my guardian today?”

Dick muttered out something that sounded like an okay, but if Tim was honest, he wasn’t sure it was anything more than a few syllables to lower his guard.

“This is what Bruce considers a capable guardian? I’m not sure I trust him as far as I could throw him. What can it do?”

Marinette reached forward, poking Dick’s cheek, enough force to snap him out of whatever daze he had been in the past hour.

“Dick Grayson-Wayne ma’am, a pleasure to meet you.” Instantly he bowed, his hand extended as if he were waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

“Mhmm, so you are Bruce’s ward? You look like you could be his blood child. Does he have a thing for dark hair and light eyes? Creepy.”

Dick’s hand clutched his chest as if he had been struck directly in his core. Marinette turned her attention from him and back to where Tim stood.

“Anyways, I believe we mentioned lunch earlier. I’ve already submitted my application to CPS and after this formal meeting, you’re free to meet up with me whenever you would like as long as a third party comes with us. Can you think of anyone you want to come with us?”

Tim glanced to the side where he could feel Dick’s puppy eyes boring into him. He wouldn’t be his first choice but if it came down to him of Jaime, he was pretty sure he had a better chance of reigning in Dick.

“Do you mind if Dick comes with us?”

Marinette’s smile was shaken with uncertainty as if she was thinking of protesting but didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Tim felt terrible putting her in the position but he was sure that Dick was her best chance given his options. “Of course not, where would you like to go?”

The lunch moved smoothly with Tim learning so much about her. She was originally from the Gotham foster system herself, but a young couple who couldn’t have kids adopted her at a younger age, moving her to Paris with them. She attended the equivalent of middle and high school over there where she met many lifelong friends. Starting late in her middle school years, she upstarted a fashion business where she had several big-name clients months into her start-up. Now she made personal designs, but many were taken care of by her team. She only stitched a very few commissions for close personal friends.

She was remarkable, someone who truly started from nothing. His parents did something similar as did Bruce’s. It was something he wanted for himself, something he wasn’t sure he could ever achieve with either his or Bruce’s fortune.

The custody battle was put on hold at Tim’s request. He was really intrigued by Marinette and Bruce pressuring him to take his time and really think over his choices finally led him to that decision. However, no matter how much Bruce tried to be a neutral party in the matter, Tim could feel the strain it put on their work relationship.

The more he saw Marinette, the more mess-ups occurred on patrol. Bruce would constantly tread into Tim’s area, always dropping in on his battles. It was as if he lost all trust in Tim as if he was trying to rely less on him, trying to go back to doing things on his own.

It was so frustrating. No matter how many times he told Bruce that he could still be Robin no matter who he chose, it seemed to mean nothing to him. He continually waved him off, claiming to have no idea what he was talking about.

A month after he met Marinette, Tim snuck out for the first time, begging her to meet him at a coffee shop near her hotel.

“Tim, this is dangerous. If CPS finds out we meet behind Bruce’s back, it could nullify my application.”

“I know, I know.” His head dropped to the table, buried in his arms trying to suffocate his frustration. “I just needed to get away from all of them. I think the fact that I consider you a serious option really upsets Bruce. It’s not that I don’t consider him a serious option as well, it’s just-he’s just-”

Tim let out a sigh, slowly sitting back up unsure where his thoughts were taking him.

“Tim,” Marinette reached across the table, laying her hand on his arm. “if this is too stressful for you, I can pull out of this.”

Her touch was so gentle, so soothing. It felt like the mother he never had, the kind of mother he yearned for but never realized. He really didn’t want her to leave his life just because he couldn’t give up being Robin.

“I just feel so selfish,” his vision started to blur, Marinette’s figure coming in and out of focus. “I want to keep the life I’ve made for myself here, but I also don’t feel like I can grow the way I want to under Bruce’s supervision.”

Marinette didn’t say anything for a moment, she just allowed him to cry, her thumb moving in small circles on his arm. Tim reveled in the feeling, reveled in the silence. He hadn’t had this in a while, he hadn’t had comfort for as long as he could remember. Even at his parent’s funeral, people just commented on how strong he was and how smart he was and told him he would be just fine. Not once did anyone try to hug him or ask if he was okay. They just assumed.

Everyone always just assumed.

“Tim, I haven’t been 100% honest with you since I met you. I didn’t want it to mess with your decision, but I think it’s time you knew.”

“I already know.” Tim moved his arms from her touch, his heart throbbing from the loss of touch. “I did my research on you, especially considering how Bruce let me meet you so quickly. You’ve done a lot of work to bury it, but the Will mentioned you, or at least your old name.”

Marinette’s smile was tight, her eyes as watery as his.

“Is that what’s holding you back from making the decision you want to make?”

Tim wanted to deny that he had no clear choice, but that was a lie he had been feeding himself. He wanted to stay with Bruce, in Gotham. His life was here, his friends were here, his passions were here. The only thing that wasn’t, was her.

“I want Bruce to be my official guardian. I want to be Tim Drake-Wayne.” Marinette nodded, understanding pouring from her and crashing into him. He felt like all the stress from the past month had been pushed out and replaced with relief. “But I really did want to get to know you, I didn’t want to make a decision because you would be out of my life for good. I’ve already lost you once, CPS took you didn’t they?”

“Right before mom became pregnant with you. I’m sure it happened to you too, but I was only six. They left me alone, not even a butler or maid to watch after me. They tried to argue with CPS that I was a competent child who could handle groceries and looking after myself but they didn’t buy it. My existence hadn’t even been released to the public so they didn’t take it too hard, losing me that is. But you, they immediately brought you into the limelight, almost like a challenge to CPS, I’m assuming that’s why they didn’t get involved for you no matter how many times my parent’s called and reported them.”

Tim couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out. It seemed to have shocked Marinette too as she gave way to her own giggle threatening to spill.

“Marinette, can I ask you something selfish?”

“Of course, mon frère.” Her hand reached back across the table, gripping his tightly as if pressing him to ask the question he dreaded most.

“Will you still be apart of my life? I’m not asking you to move to Gotham, but maybe a monthly trip? A weekly dinner? Something? I just don’t want to lose you again.”

The tears that had been pooling in her eyes finally slipped free, her smile blinding.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Bruce, Marinette is coming over for game night tonight!”

“Marinette?” Dick’s head popped around the corner, the red plastered by the mere mention of her name. It sickened Tim. “But I have patrol tonight! Bruce can’t the police do their jobs for one night!”

Bruce chuckled as he set up the table, a stack of every board game imaginable piled in the middle.

“I suppose you can push it back from 11 to 5 to 2 to 5. After all, I’m not heartless.”

Tim let out an involuntary groan as he slipped into the couch, wishing it would swallow him whole.

“Whose side are you on here Bruce? She’s already your honorable daughter. Do you really need her to be part of your legal family that bad?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean.” His smirk only made Tim want to fold in on himself even more.

“Bruce, if you’re gonna set me up, can it at least be with Tim’s more attractive siblings? Like what about that Jason guy? Or Barbara Gordan?” Tim popped up in his seat, a smile beaming from ear to ear.

“Marinette’s here!” He waved her over to the seat beside him before a certain older lovebird could intervene.

“I am attractive! Why won’t you accept me Marinette?” Dick wiped away fake tears as he fell dramatically to the floor by her feet.

Tim could feel his heart overflowing for the first time in years. His life felt so fulfilled, like all of the missing pieces finally found a place. As the night continued on, only one thought stayed prominent in his mind.

He couldn’t be happier with his decision.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb @glitterflowercat @ladybug-182 @maskedpainter @remy-289 @redbullgivescaswings @icerosecrystal

#maribat #timinette siblings #dickinette

296 notes · View notes

pan-fangirl-345 · 4 years

Text

Scars and Marks

Summary: You know who your soulmate is. Only problem. He has a girlfriend with the same mark as you. The school festival is going to change all that. Not that you know that just yet.

A/N: I have no idea where I was going with this. Let me know if you want a part two to this. I might write it anyway. How do I title?

TW: Reader is slapped. Narcissistic behavior. Bakugou is a little OOC. Thought of cutting a mark off skin. Implied mental health issues. If I missed something, please let me know.

Here’s a link to the song I used for this. I don’t own the song, the lyrics, or anything about it.

You stared at the mark on your back in the mirror, frowning at it.

The Soul Mark had been black when it had first appeared when you were ten, but now it was almost gray. It was fading, and fast, but that was okay, it meant Bakugou was happier with her.

“Hey! (Y/F/N), we’re gonna play a game of Never Have I Ever, wanna join us?” Denki asked when you walked into the common room, practically vibrating next to Hitoshi.

“Um, sure, why not?” you murmured, sitting next to Eijirou, leaning on him a little.

“Hey! Bakubro! Do you wanna play Never Have I Ever with us?” Eijirou asked, making you jump a little bit. He was so loud!

“Why would I wanna do that?”

“Scared you’re gonna lose?” you teased, making him run red.

“I won’t lose!” he shouted, storming over to the circle, plopping down on your other side.

You continued to lean on Eiji, letting the warmth he radiated keep you from sharing too much.

“Alright, who wants to go first?” Mina asked, devilish grin.

“Guess I will,” you offered. “Never have I ever punched someone in a a public setting.”

Denki, Hitoshi, Eiji, Bakugou, and the other boys all took a shot of sparkling cider, the closest thing they could get to alcohol as second years.

“We’re going clockwise right?” Mina asked.

“That makes the most sense,” Hitoshi muttered.

“I guess Bakugou is next,” Eiji said.

“Never have I ever accidentally used glitter instead of laundry detergent,” he said, glaring at Denki.

“I was high!” he defended, making everyone laugh.

Hitoshi gave his soulmate a small grin, something soft that reminded you of what you didn’t have.

You winced, looking away, burying yourself in Eiji’s side, letting him shield you.

“Never have I ever wanted to drink bleach out of a wine glass,” Uraraka said, glaring at you.

“If this were alcohol, I would think that you would be trying to get me drunk,” you told her, taking a shot.

People gave you some worried looks and you rolled your eyes. “I also wanted to pitch myself in front of a car. Seventh and eighth grade sucked for me. Izuku took a shot too you know!”

“Yeah, but that’s cause Bakugou was an ass when he was younger,” Denki said.

“You say that like he isn’t one now,” you said, wrinkling your nose teasingly.

“What did you say?” Bakugou snarled, turning to you.

“Is she wrong though?” Hitoshi asked, shooting you a look.

“No,” he grumbled, making you chuckle.

“I always knew you liked me Bakugou,” you teased, making him huff.

And so the game went, and it only had to pause once so you could throw Mineta out the window with Hanta’s tape, since he had somehow managed to sneak onto campus.

“I can see why you guys replaced him with me,” Hitoshi muttered when you sat down next to Eiji again.

“Never have I ever gotten rejected by my soulmate,” Kyouka said and you winced, taking a shot. “Oh, (Y/F/N), I’m so sorry! I forgot-”

“Kyouka, it’s fine,” you assured her trying to ignore the stares that you were getting from everyone else.

“Who the fuck would reject you?” Bakugou snapped, breaking the tense silence that had enveloped the group.

You, you thought miserably.

You and Bakugou weren’t friends, but you were friends with the other Bakusquad members. He tolerated you, but you had never spent any one-on-one time with your soulmate in the two years you had been going to school with him.

“(Y/F/N), why didn’t you tell us?” Denki asked, looking hurt.

“For one thing, I wasn’t technically rejected,” you admitted, toying with your hair, leaning further into Eiji. “I have my mark and everything still, even though it’s wicked faded, since they don’t really know what I am to them. It’s a really long story. Point is, I never told them, and they’re happier without me. I’m not what they want, and that’s okay, I like what we have now.”

“They don’t know? Then how do you know they’re happier without you?” Denki asked.

“Because they’re with someone else.”

Everyone fell silent, even the other people in the common room.

“How are you okay with that?” Izuku asked quietly, clutching Shouto’s hand tightly.

“I knew from the moment I met them that I wasn’t going to be it for them, you know? They were confident, and proud, and I just . . . wasn’t.” You glared down at your hands like they held the answers to your issues.

“At first I thought we had one of those unbalanced bonds, but then we went in for the provisional licensing exams and they met someone with the same mark. I saw them together and then I realized something. We didn’t have an unbalanced bond. We didn’t have a bond at all!”

You smiled softly.

“It made me happy, actually, not having to worry about it anymore. I mean, sure, I cried my eyes out for three days afterwards, but that kinda just faded away. They were happy, and I finally knew that I was romantically unlovable. I mean, I had always assumed, but it was good to know for sure, you know? I didn’t have to worry about whether it would be a problem or not.

“I saw her mark you know, when they showed her off for the first time,” you murmured. “It was the same as mine, and yet the way he looked at her, like she was the best thing to ever happen to him . . . I knew I had made the right decision to never tell him. I knew the moment I met her that I was never going to be that girl that tried to steal him.

“I wasn’t going to make him miserable by telling him, making him overthink the ‘what ifs?’. I wasn’t going to make him decide between the two of us. One, I knew who he would pick. And two, I knew that even if he didn’t pick me, he would think about what it would’ve been like.

“Besides, I love him, I wasn’t going to make his dream harder by being a part of his life.” You shrugged, then realized how much you had just talked.

Mina, Uraraka, Izuku, Kyouka, and Eiji were crying, Shouto was giving you an undetermined look, and for once, Bakugou was silent.

You also realized how much you had given away with your story.

“Guys, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad!” you said, waving your hands. “Why are you guys crying?”

Izuku launched himself at you, wrapping you in a hug. “Yo-You aren’t unlovable (Y/F/N)! Wh-Why would yo-you ever think-think that?” he sobbed.

“I mean, am I wrong? Have you guys seen me? I’m not exactly soulmate material.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou shouted, standing suddenly.

You looked up at him, curling around Izuku on instinct. You knew they didn’t have the best history, and while you trusted Bakugou not to hurt him under normal circumstances, he seemed pretty pissed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he yelled, pulling you up by the back of your shirt, making Izuku drop to the ground.

“Bakugou, calm down,” Eiji tried, also standing.

“I don’t get what you’re asking me,” you admitted as he set you down on your feet, smoothing out your shirt.

“Why the fuck are you so hard on yourself you idiot?”

“Because everyone else is too nice to tell me what I’m doing wrong. I have to be hard on myself because if I’m not, then no one will be.”

You stared into his crimson eyes, as they stared back into your own (Y/E/C) eyes. It was a battle of wills.

“I’m fine with who I am, I know who I am, not many people can say that. I know that my soulmate is happy, and I know that no matter what happens, I’m not ending his life.”

Then a question popped into your head.

“Why the fuck do you even care, Bakugou? We’re not even friends.”

“(Y/F/N), who told you that you and Bakugou weren’t friends?” Denki asked, standing up.

“I mean, I thought it was obvious,” you admitted, not breaking eye contact. He had beautiful eyes, they were the first thing you had noticed about him other than his shitty attitude.

He continued to stare you down, almost like he was searching your eyes for something.

“I can feel the sexual tension,” Shouto muttered, and Bakugou flushed.

“What the fuck did you just say you bastard? I have a fucking girlfriend,” Bakugou snarled, breaking the eye contact to turn to Shouto, who looked as stoic as ever.

You rolled your eyes, that small pang of pain deep in your stomach throbbing as you turned away from him.

Soon that would fade too, you told yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The festival was coming up again, and you were really looking forward to it. Mina was teaching you how to dance, Kyouka was coming up with new lyrics, and taking song suggestions.

On cleaning day you agreed to do a lot of the work so the others could do their thing.

“Try to tear us apart, but know that we’ll wear our scars,” you sang, throwing the trash outside. “Excuses, excuses that’s all that I hear, all that I see when I look in the mirror, I can’t escape all these thoughts in my head, they’re waiting to haunt me night after night, I feel it in my bones, and everything I know, it’s underneath my skin and it won’t let go-”

You stopped when you saw most of the class standing by the door, staring at you.

“H-How long have you guys been standing there?” you asked, cheeks heating as they stared at you.

“Hey, (Y/F/N), can I ask you something?” Kyouka asked.

“Shoot,” you muttered.

“Do you wanna be lead vocals?” Kyouka inquired.

“I don’t wanna take your spot though!” you told her, waving your hands.

“What’s that song, (Y/F/N)?” she replied.

“Um, Scars, by I Prevail. Why?”

“I love that song!” she cried, taking your hands in yours. “Will you do it? Please?”

“I mean, do you really want me to?” you inquired, watching her face.

“Yes!” the entire class shouted, making you jump back.

“I-I guess it wouldn’t be too much,” you agreed, fidgeting with your fingers. Singing wasn’t something you normally did in front of other people. It was the one small escape that you had been able to hold onto after you all had to move into the dorms.

Not many people even knew you could sing, you did it alone in your room.

“How well do you know that song?” Kyouka asked you as you walked back into the school dorms.

“Like the back of my hand,” you admitted. “I’ve been listening to it since I was twelve.”

“So if we randomly played the song you would be able to sing to it? Even the vocal changes?”

“Without a doubt, I was going to enter a talent show, but I chickened out because I sounded terrible. I’m surprised you guys liked it.”

“I don’t like to agree with Bakugou on much, but I agree with him on the fact that you’re too hard on yourself,” Shouto said, looking at you.

“Yeah (Y/F/N), you sounded amazing! How did you keep that from us?” Izuku asked, making you smile.

“I mean, I never thought I was good, but I hum sometimes,” you said, heading to the kitchen to finish up the dishes.

“Well, feel free to sing around the dorms, you sound really good!” Denki shouted.

“Thanks Denks,” you replied.

And so it went, you sang Scars around the dorms until everyone knew the lyrics, which was good for the backup singers.

You even caught Bakugou humming it to himself on the way to class one day. Though he was one of the back up singers since he could manipulate his voice the right way, so it was expected.

You had known Bakugou was your soulmate during the U.A entrance exams, he’d had his tattoo uncovered for the world to see, and you had known who he was immediately upon seeing it.

But while you had been working up the courage to tell him, you had seen what he was like.

He was everything you weren’t, and you had made your decision then and there that you weren’t going to tell him what you were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Momo, I have a small request,” you admitted to her. “The straps on this are a little tight, and I think it would look better without them.”

“Oh, you’re right! I’ll have that fixed in a jiffy!” she assured you, taking the dress you were going to wear for the performance.

You didn’t tend to like strapless dresses, you thought that they were a little sketchy, but you wanted to look good, and the straps cut into your skin something fierce.

Momo had it finished the day of the performance, and you barely had time to make sure it fit before it was your turn to perform.

When the lights came on they blinded you, but then the music started and you smiled, stepping out onto stage.

Your voice started out softly as you say the first line, “Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars.”

You let the music flow through your body, letting the beat vibrate through your blood as the routine made your body move on instinct.

Bakugou moved with you, and you two fell into a similar routine as you moved around the stage, dodging the people on instruments, just like the practice runs.

“Excuses, excuses are all that I hear All I can see when I look in the mirror I can't escape all these thoughts in my mind They're waiting to haunt me night after night I feel it in my bones, and everything I know It's underneath my skin, and it won't let go They know me all too well, but only time will tell If this is who I am, do I know myself?”

For the first time since the entrance exams, you forgot that Bakugou wasn’t yours. You forgot that were doomed to be alone for the rest of your life.

“Don't forget your life's your own, don't ever let it go.”

You thought of the people in your class that were making their life theirs. Of Shouto, who had never really known his family. Of Izuku, who was doing this because of him mom. Of Uraraka, who was trying to repay her parents. You let the emotions guide your voice through the lyrics.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are They can cut us, but we'll wear our scars.”

You thought of all the scars you had seen. Izuku’s from saving people and proving himself. Of Shouto, who would never forget how or why he had his. Of the new scars on you from training and pushing yourself. Of the mental scars that Bakugou would carry.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars, wear our scars.”

You thought of how people were slowly accepting their scars. How Izuku looked at his and saw the saved lives, the leaps and bounds of progress he had made. Of Shouto, who was proving that he wasn’t his father. Of Bakugou, who was learning that he couldn’t keep being an ass. And what did you think when you looked at your scars?

“Denial, denial is all that I've known Holding me hostage, I'm never alone Fighting for air, I'll fight to survive My soul's not for sale, I won't pay the price I feel it in my bones, and everything I know It's underneath my skin, but I won't let go.”

You had seen a lot of heroes that forgot what it was to be a hero. You had promised yourself that you weren’t going to be one of them. You had promised everyone you had saved that you were going to be a hero they could be proud of.

“Don't forget your life's your own, don't ever let it go.”

You were going to cling to your life, even if your soulmate was in love with someone else. You may not have had a soulmate that wanted you back, but maybe you could be friends. You could be okay with that.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are They can cut us, but we'll wear our scars.”

You knew who you were. You knew what you were going to be. Now the only thing you had to do was prove that you were serious about it.

Scars weren’t something to be ashamed of. Stretch marks showed growth, they told the story from childhood to adulthood, of changes made. Pregnancy stretch marks showed growth of a child, the purest thing in the world, untainted by society. Scars showed where you had been, they told your story.

“You can cut us up, but we will survive You had your chance, now it's our time to stand up and rise We will survive Right now, the tables turn We're gonna scream it out loud and let our voices be heard.”

You were part of a new generation of heroes, heroes who knew what it meant to be a hero. They knew how to learn from the mistakes of others. They knew what they were risking. They what they wanted to do.

“In the heat of the moment when fear has you frozen You're crashing and burning when life's at its coldest Don't fall too far from who you are They can cut us, but we'll wear our scars.”

You and Bakugou were synced as the song started to end, only a few verses left. Your time with him was ending, and you let your voice be dictated by the emotions singing through your very being.

His eyes met yours as the final verse started, and you saw yourself reflected in his eyes, a version of yourself that you had only dreamed of. You saw the sweat formed from moving around each other so much. You saw the glow from the lights, the makeup, the joy of being on stage, of doing something you loved. You wonder if he had always looked at you like that, or if you’re emotions were just high because of what you were doing.

“I feel it in my bones, and everything I know I feel it in my bones, I feel it, I feel it I feel it in my heart when it all turns to dark Try to tear us apart, but know that we'll wear our scars.”

There was a moment of silence as the echo died, when the last note faded, where it was just you and the others, the joy of accomplishment before the crowd erupted into a shout of happiness.

“Thank you all for coming!” you shouted into the mic, over the noise of the crowd, stepping away from Bakugou and the others, bowing.

Someone tossed a rose up to you and you smiled, taking it before backing up to the others, helping them clear the stage so the next act could take over.

“So, (Y/F/N), when were you going to tell us that Bakugou was your soulmate?” Eiji asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“That black mark on your back is a Soul Mark, and it’s the same as Kacchan’s,” Izuku said.

“What? It’s black? You’re sure?” you asked, running to the nearest mirror.

“Of course it’s black,” Denki said. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because the last time I looked at it two weeks ago, it looked like this,” you replied, pulling up a photo of it on your phone. “It shouldn’t look like this.”

The pale gray made everyone wince and flinch towards their respective soulmates.

“It shouldn’t look like this,” you repeated, trying to get a good look at it.

“You didn’t tell me.”

You flinched as you caught a glimpse of Bakugou in the mirror.

“I already told my story,” you told him, turning away from the mirror to look at him.

There was some emotion on his face that you had never seen before.

“Katsuki!” his girlfriend cried, throwing herself into his arms.

You backed away, hoping to be able to get away from the awkward situation, but then he spoke up.

“You didn’t tell me our Soul Marks matched!” he yelled, practically tossing his girlfriend to the side.

“What?” she snapped, looking bewildered.

“It’s nothing,” you assured her, holding your hands up.

“It sounds like you’re trying to steal my soulmate,” she snarled.

“I’m not. If I was I would’ve told him the moment I found out we were soulmates. He’s happy with you,” you told her with a shrug, turning away.

“You aren’t going anywhere until you talk to me,” Bakugou shouted, running to latch onto your wrist.

“Bakugou, let me go. I’m not going to be a homewrecker. I’m not making you miserable.”

“I’m already miserable,” he snapped, then glanced back at his girlfriend.

“Oh shit,” someone muttered.

“You know what?” you snapped. “Fine, fine, if you wanna have this conversation now, whatever. But I’m moving this somewhere private.”

You ripped your wrist out of his grip, storming back to the dorms.

“Will someone explain why this nobody is trying to steal my man?” his girlfriend asked, her eyes blazing.

“I’m not trying to steal your man,” you told her. “He just saw the mark and freaked out about it.”

“I ‘freaked out about it’ because you’re my soulmate and you never told me!” he shouted.

“But Katsuki, I’m the one with the mark,” his girlfriend protested, positioning herself between him and you. “Are you sure hers isn’t a fake? She might be trying to trick you.”

“It’s the real thing, this is what it looked like a few weeks ago,” you said, showing her the photo.

“Pity then.”

“Do you want to touch it? Call in a fucking expert?” you snapped, loosing your patience with her.

“Shut up,” Bakugou snarled to her, then turned to you. “Explain this to me, (Y/F/N), because I can’t figure it out.”

As you re-explained everything, his girlfriend scoffed, rolling her eyes.

She clearly didn’t buy it.

“Likely sob story,” she said, baring her teeth at you. “I’m the only one that’s worthy of Katsuki. And he’s the only one worthy of me. You’re nobody.”

“I know that I’m nobody,” you snapped at her, wincing at your own tone of voice. “That’s why I never planned on telling him!”

“Never?” Bakugou asked, voice quieter than you had ever heard it.

“Never,” you repeated.

The joy from earlier was gone, replaced only by stress, a bone deep tired, and the deep ache in your stomach as you stood there.

“I deserve to have the future number one hero!” his girlfriend yelled, some inner leash she had kept on herself snapping. “I deserve to have him all to myself! The whole reason I stole your mark in the first place was to have the best! If he questions everything this easily then I deserve better!”

You flinched as she took those few steps to slap you, your head rearing back in shock.

“What do you mean you stole my mark?” you asked, hand cupping your cheek.

“I was behind you at the entrance exams,” she snarled, a wild gleam in her eyes. “I could see the mark peeking out of your costume and figured out who Katsuki was to you. So I stole your mark.”

“How? Soul Marks are one of a kind, unique to your soulmate,” you reminded her.

“It’s my quirk,” she snapped, like it should’ve been obvious.

“Her quirk is a lot like Toga’s,” Bakugou explained, moving to step between the two of you. “She can copy an appearance if she touches the original person.”

You stared at the girl in front of you. She had seemed so sincere when you had first met her, so . . . perfect.

“I think it’s time you left,” Hitoshi said, appearing behind her.

“What did you say to me?” she asked.

“I think it’s time you left.”

“Villain,” she hissed.

“Hey, you can’t talk to him like that. He’s more of a hero than you’ll ever be,” you shouted, getting in her face, your cheek still stinging from where she had hit you.

“What did you call me?” Hitoshi asked.

“A vil-”

Her voice died as she was brought under his control.

“Go to Aizawa, explain in detail what you did to both Bakugou and (Y/F/N), and tell the truth. Don’t touch either of them ever again,” he ordered, sending her away.

“Are you guys okay?” Denki asked, running over with the others.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m so sorry.”

Before anyone could get to you, you were inside the building, running for your room.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be something everyone enjoyed together.

You ignored the calls of your name, ignored the footsteps of the person following you.

You slammed your door, unzipping the dress, throwing as far away from yourself as you could, throwing on a the biggest shirt you had, then the biggest hoodie. You felt the need to cover everything.

For the first time in your life, you wanted to skin the mark off your shoulder blade. You wanted to take a knife and rip the mark off.

“(Y/F/N), can we come in?” Izuku asked, tapping on your door lightly.

“No,” you called, curling up on your bed, tears streaming down your face.

“(Y/F/N), are you okay?” Shouto inquired.

“No.”

You headed for the only mirror in your room, washing the makeup off.

“Go away guys!” you yelled when someone else knocked on your door. “I’m not okay and I just need to be alone.”

“I need to talk to you,” Bakugou said, barely loud enough for you to hear him.

“Why? I’m sorry I pretty much ruined your relationship, but you were the one that wanted to talk to me about it!”

“Please, just let me in,” he begged.

You sighed, not bothering to stop the tears as you opened your door.

“I’m sorry she hit you,” he murmured, touching your face lightly. “I didn’t know she was like that.”

“It’s not your fault. I should’ve made sure the mark was actually gone before I made changes to the dress.”

“You were really never going to tell me?”

He was different. He had changed since your first year, but this was different than even second year Bakugou.

He seemed hurt by the fact that you weren’t going to tell him. He seemed uncomfortable.

“Look, we’re soulmates? So what? You can walk away right now Bakugou and I won’t say anything. I . . . I don’t want to make you miserable. I just . . . if you’re happy, that’s good enough for me.”

“What if you make me happy?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t make-”

“You do make me happy,” he interrupted. “Do you think that . . . do you think it’s possible for me to make you happy?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I spent so long avoiding you that I just assumed I would make you feel frustrated.”

“Frustrated?”

“Does crestfallen work better? Depressed? Malcontent perhaps.”

“I never felt anything with her,” he blurted. “I thought that might change with time but . . . she never made me laugh. My mother hated her from the minute I brought her home. I think my mom would like you.”

This was dangerous ground.

No. This was honesty.

“Your mom is important to you, isn’t she?” you asked, sitting on your bed, scooting back until your back hit the headboard. You gestured for him to sit with you, and he sat at the end of the bed, leaning against the wall.

He nodded, glancing at you.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

“Alright, how about this?” you started. “Next time we get a chance, you take me to meet your parents and if they like me we give this a shot. If not, we walk away, no hard feelings.”

He nodded again, watching you.

“Alright.”

“So you were really never gonna tell me.”

“Bakugou!”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader soulmates #katsuki x reader #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou #angst #misunderstandings #bnha x reader #my hero academia

539 notes · View notes

that-one-weeb-but-starwars · 3 years

Text

Wrecker NSFW Alphabet Headcannons

Involes 18+ headcannons I mean it is the NSFW Headcannons for a reason-

A=Aftercare - What they do/act like after sex.

Cuddling galore

B=Bondage - Are they into BDSM, and how far they'll go if they have a green light.

No not really, he likes the ideas and has a fantasy but never really ask, oh and he wouldnt want it on you- he wants it on him.

But he also thinks those collar chokers are hot on u- you know the one with the spikes, big or small- preferable small spikes- hes poked himself with the big ones

C=Cum - pretty self-explanatory.

You cant ever take it all, its thick and definitely a large load. He likes stuffing you with it as you mewel in pleasure.

D=Dom - Are they dominant, submissive, a switch?

Was a total sub before you leading him through it, showing he wasnt going to hurt her as a dom.

Hes a switch now.

E=Edgeplay - Similar to 'Kinks' except it's a lot riskier than usual kinks (knifeplay, breathplay, etc.)

F=Fantasy - A fantasy of theirs (ex: a teacher/student )

Yeah no hes good

Being tied to a chair and you giving him a lap dance or being tied up and used (consensually) in general so he wants to put his hands on you but cant.

G=Got Caught - How they react when they get caught having sex.

"Oh. Hey guys..." and tries to Casually cover you up

H=Hot Spots - A place that drives them crazy when stimulated

His neck and his chest.

I=Intimacy - How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex.

Guys its Wrecker, of course love like too the max all day everyday period.

K=Kinks - list a few of their kinks, be they the normalized ones or kinkier kinks.

J=Journey - Their ideal way of leading up to sex.

A warm make out session that went to far with consent

L=Location - Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.

Dominance his partner ontop always makes him feel horny

Anywhere your comfortable, except in extreme public like at dinner, but in the bathroom oh for sure.

M=Masturbation - How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to.

He thinks of you, and you telling him what to do, how fast to go jack himself off or how slow.

N=NO - A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do.

Contuine if your whimpering or saying no, he'd know others would maybe just think of it as a moan but he always makes sure your comfortable

O=On's - Their top turn on's that they have (things that'll get them super horny super quickly).

You in tight fitted clone armor, hugging every curve

Lingere, especially if its a one peice swim suit deal, or a matching bralet and panty set with stocking and garters, hes even more horny if there the panties with a slit in them.

You in lace, especially if its red, white or black- maybe even all of them combined.

You standing up to his brothers and he dont mean just because there teasing- he means to squadrons of regs, and even soemtimes his closest brothers in clone force 99

P=Position - Their favorite position to have sex in.

Missionary or any varation because damn does he love those expressions you make, also he feels like hes being disrespectful if you dressed all pretty and sexy for him (like in lingerie) just to turn you around to fuck you doggy, but if you wanted to try doggy he'd be up for it.

Q=Quickie - Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.

Maybe once or twice you've been able to sneak away, usually when 79's is busy you two sneak away, your dress pulled up just above your breast showing your perky nipples and panties off on the floor, a leg on his hip as he fucked you.

He actually likes them alot, not over real sex but he likes seeing you pleased when he can please you.

R=Rough - How rough they are, or get, when in bed.

He really watches himself if he gets rough, scared to actually hurt you. He usually not too rough with you, but sometimes, like in the refresher it just slips and be becomes slightly animalistic, you're not complaining- sure it was hard to walk after but you'd do it all over again.

S=Stamina - How long they can go before they tap out.

Dont get me started

T=Toys - Do use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.

No need he has you

U=Unfair - How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.

He isnt unfair because in the end he'd just be teasing himself

V=Volume - How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.

He can get loud, especially if your on top of him, he may beg or plead with you.

W=Wild Card - a random letter for the character of your choice.

S= Scenerios write a smexy scene or the ending of having it- something nsfw

She had begged Wrecker for it all day, and now she finally had it. Wrecker had her bent over and braced against the wall of the refresher stall of 79s. Thrusting deep in her cunt as she clenched around him. Her stomach in knots and her knees weak.

"H-harder!" She begged, Wrecker bent over her form as he held her hips. Groaning heavily in her ear she cried out as he slammed into her harder.

He hadn't even bothered with her panties or her dress. Her dress half way pulled up and panties pullled to the side as he destroyed her gut.

Crying out for a final time her stomach snapped as she groaned.

"Take it Mesh'la. All of it." He told her softly, his thrust becoming sloppy as he fucked her through her high.

Her eyes pricked with pleasurable tears and drool running down her chin as he slammed into her for a final time.

X=X-Ray - How they look with their clothes off.

She cried in pleasure as he groaned into her shoulder, his cum pouring into her already stuffed cunt.

He's big all around- Everything is big- hes a big guy

Y=Yearning - How often they need to have sex.

He ca go long periods without havibg sex like the others can you known because of oh I dont know- war. But he'd like to please you atleast three times in a week.

Z=ZZZ - How quickly they fall asleep after having sex.

He tries not to fall asleep quickly, but he will always hold you no matter what after.

#star wars wrecker #tbb headcanons #sw: tbb #the bad batch smut #x reader #wrecker x reader #wrecker headcanon #star wars: the bad batch #wrecker the bad batch #wrecker bad batch #the bad batch wrecker

84 notes · View notes

hopelesshawks · 3 years

Note

WOAH WOAH is your MHA reqs open?? So I wanted to request a Todoroki x Reader Angst where Todoroki sees his s/o getting stabbed by a villain with countless sharp spears like in Chiaki’s death video in danganronpa along with 1-A and just loses it? I’m sorry I’m craving for angst rn ✨✨ also love your writing and remember to stay safe <33 💕💗

My requests are open yes!! I have actually missed receiving them (and tbf I’m prolly not getting them because I’m doing daily updates on History of Us hahaha). So thanks for the request anon. I’m also really touched that you love my writing 🥰 I hope this lives up to your impression of me!

I had never seen danganropa but I just looked up what you were talking about and w o w I am in ✨pain✨ 🥲 I’ve got you anon. It’s going to hurt but I got you. Did I drag out (y/n)’s last words? Yes. Would they realistically already have died before saying all that I have them say? Probably. But this is fanfic and if movie writers can do it then goddamn it so can I!

CW for angst, somewhat graphic description of major character injury and death (reader), non-major character death, and canon typical violence

Nothing has been the same since the fall of the hero commission and the loss of faith in the Symbol of Peace’s generation of heroes. It’s been two years since Shigaraki wreaked havoc and Dabi exposed Endeavor’s crimes. As pros unused to that level of violence retired or quit, hero class students have been forced to step up and fill in the spaces they left behind. As a result, even as their faith in the pros waned, the public started to see the students as a beacon of hope. All Might, they whisper, spoiled the current generation of heroes. They argue that Endeavor is now too old to keep up, that Hawks and Mirko are too burdened by their mentors’ failures, and all the heroes aged in between are too used to the relative peace of the golden era to be effective. These current students though? Students like the famous UA hero class A, now third years who’ve already seen so much? They are the new hope. They’d grown up in the fires of a post-symbol of peace era and as such they are the only ones who can drag society out of it. It would be flattering if not for the overwhelming pressure that comes along with it.

Shoto thinks he would have been crushed beneath that pressure if not for you.

The two of you had started growing close your first year during the provisional license exam make up classes. Spending so much additional time together over the weekend had allowed Shoto to slowly open up to you until a beautiful friendship had blossomed. Even still, both of you had secretly yearned for something more. It was only after the destruction of Jaku City and the Todoroki family secrets were aired to the whole of Japan that the two of you finally acted on your feelings. You’d been such a source of support for him afterwards that eventually he hadn’t been able or willing to hold back any longer and had confessed his feelings to you late one night in the dorms. The two of you have been together ever since and fully intend to open a hero agency together after graduation. He knows the two of you are still young but sometimes when he looks at you with your blinding smile or when you’re sleeping peacefully beside him, he swears he can hear wedding bells. If the civilians of Japan can consistently forget how young you all are as they urge you to take over for the pros, then it seems only fair he should be able to forget too.

His mother was ecstatic when he asked her about engagement rings. Endeavor had said it was too early, that marriage is too large a commitment to make at 18 years old, but Shoto insisted and eventually a compromise was reached. He’ll wait until after graduation but then he’s determined to make you his forever and always.

It’s an otherwise normal Saturday afternoon in the dorms when Iida and Momo get an urgent distress signal to gather the entirety of the class and head into the city. A large group of ragtag criminals, determined to become the next League of Villains, is terrorizing Musutafu and the number of casualties is climbing rapidly. The other heroes usually responsible for that area had been called away to handle a different disaster and all attempts made by the civilians to defend themselves had only led to more chaos. The entire class mobilized in seconds. Calls like this aren’t uncommon now. The villains have been banding together more and their bloodlust seems to have grown exponentially with civilians’ continued lack of trust in the current pros. By the time you all arrive to the scene there’s no time to waste. “Be careful,” you tell Shoto, carefully running a hand through his hair before resting it on his cheek. He brings his hand up to cover yours before promising, “I will.” He presses a kiss to your palm but before he can do more Bakugo sharply barks “Hurry it up lovebirds we got a fucking job to do!” before racing off. You both know he’s right. “I love you,” you tell Shoto. “Love you too,” he promises before you both steel yourselves and then take off into the fray.

It’s an absolutely grueling battle. Every time someone takes one villain down, another comes to take their place. “Pinky! On your left!” you call out, causing your classmate to sharply turn. Mina just manages to dodge a punch one of the villains throws her way and swiftly counteracts with an attack of her own, calling out a thanks. There’s no time to breathe though and almost as soon as you’re done warning Mina, you have to dive in to keep another villain off Ojiro’s back. It’s chaotic but slowly you’re starting to pick away the forces as many of the remaining villains start fleeing. Once it looks like they’ve all retreated you instinctively look for Shoto, having not seen him since the fighting had properly started. You catch sight of him and heave a sigh of relief. You call out his name to catch his attention and although he initially offers you a soft smile you notice his eyes suddenly widen. “(Y/n) behind you!” he calls out.

Every moment after that seems to happen in slow motion.

You turn around just in time for a spear to fire clean through your shoulder, knocking you off balance. You start to fall backwards but before you can even hit the ground at least a dozen more rise up from the asphalt and impale your body. You hear Shoto’s broken cry of your name but it sounds so distant to you. After a moment stuck in place the spears suddenly drop back into the ground. Shoto is next to you in a second, pulling your broken body close as you bleed out. One of your other classmates tries to call for medical support but all he can focus on is you and the sheer amount of blood you’re losing. Shoto knows his training. He knows that when a victim has been stabbed it’s crucial to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, but how can he when there’s so many fucking wounds. “You’re going to be ok. You’re going to be ok. You’re going to be ok.” He says it over and over again like a mantra. It’s both a plea to you and a desperate attempt to deny the harsh reality that the love of his life is bleeding out in his arms.

You press a bloody hand to his cheek, looking lovingly up at the man you’d do anything for, and shush him quietly. “Sho,” you rasp, voice already weak as your body tries and fails to cope with your injuries. “Don’t,” he warns. “Sho, baby, look at me,” you try again but he shakes his head, shutting his eyes tightly as tears start to run down his cheeks. “Please?” you ask and he can’t deny you, never could, so he opens his eyes and looks down at your glossy ones as you fight to stay awake just a little bit longer. “There they are. I always did love your eyes,” you tell him wistfully as your thumb strokes his cheek, smearing your blood there, though you don’t seem to notice. “You can’t leave me. You have to be ok,” he whispers but you shake your head. You can already feel yourself fading and with medical attention still several minutes out at least you know there’s no fixing this. “I need you to promise me something,” you tell him. “Anything,” he replies immediately and it brings a sad smile to your blood stained lips. “Promise you’ll find someone else after me,” you say and the scandalized look on his face would have probably made you laugh under different circumstances. “You’ve got too much love to give to let it die with me,” you tell him but he shakes his head again. “I could never love anyone else like I love you,” he swears and he means it with every fiber of his being. You chuckle wetly. “You always were stubborn. Fine, then promise to never forget me,” you compromise, tears welling in your own eyes now too. “I couldn’t even if I tried,” he swears before leaning down to press one last kiss to your lips. He can taste the tang of iron and feel your tears and his mingling on your cheeks. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips as he pulls away, but for the first time since he first said the words to you, you don’t say them back. “(Y/n)? Baby, I love you,” he tries again, pulling back to look at you properly now. Your eyes remain shut, your hand falling limp from his cheek, and when he looks to your chest the rise and fall of it has ceased.

Devastation claws up through him like a rabid animal, tearing him apart as his whole world shatters around him. He feels his grief like a physical ache in his chest, radiating out to each of his limbs as if every cell of his body is violently rejecting the fact that you’re gone. “Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya asks cautiously, putting a gentle hand on Shoto’s shoulder. Shoto’s head snaps up as he cradles you closer, as if scared your body will be taken away from him too. Before Midoriya can say whatever he was going to, Denki’s voice cuts through the tense silence. “I got him!” he crows, shoving the villain down to the ground in front of his classmates. Shoto’s eyes land on the villain and instantly his grief twists into a searing rage. He gently lays your body down but his eyes are cold and lethal as he stares down the man that took you away from him. Midoriya realizes what’s happening a beat too late and by the time he reaches out to grab Shoto, the grief stricken man has already launched himself at the villain and grasped hold of him. His right hand closes around the man’s throat, ice wrapping around it like a vice grip. He’s vaguely aware of his classmates calling his name but he doesn’t care. This man stole the love of his life from him. For that he will pay. Before Todoroki can finish the job he’s suddenly being yanked back by Midoriya and Bakugo. “Let go of me!” he demands as he fights against their hold, ignoring their warnings and empty platitudes. He manages to wrench his left arm free for a brief moment and that’s all he needs. His flames shoot out, preventing Midoriya from getting a good hold of him again, and the man who murdered you goes up in flame. His howls of pain echo around the buildings around them but the sound is music to Shoto’s ears. Let him suffer. It’s a fate he deserves.

His classmates watch on in stunned horror until the villain is burned down to ash. As his flames die out so too does all the fight seem to drain from Shoto as the crushing grief returns. Bakugo let’s him go once it’s clear he’s not a threat anymore and Shoto uses his freedom to drag himself back over to your lifeless body. It��s not fair. You’re so young. He’s so young. Why was this fight even you all’s responsibility in the first place? He’s been excitedly planning his proposal to you for weeks. Now he’ll have to plan a funeral. The thought makes him physically ill and he has to turn to the side as bile climbs up his throat and he retches onto the asphalt beside him.

How is he supposed to go on without you?

Midoriya returns a hand to his shoulder as the paramedics finally arrive. It’s too late. Far too late. One of them approaches cautiously and like a dog protecting his master Shoto immediately lashes out. “Don’t you fucking touch them,” he warns, eyes cold and voice lethal. The paramedic jerks backwards, his hands up in surrender, as he cautiously looks to the other class A students for advice. They have none. They’ve never seen Todoroki like this. They can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through. It’s Eijirou who steps up in the end. He approaches Shoto carefully, as if his classmate is a feral animal, before kneeling down to his level. “They need to take (y/n) to the hospital on that stretcher over there,” Kirishima tells him carefully, jerking his head in the direction of the waiting ambulance. “Can you carry them there for the paramedics?” he asks. Shoto stares at Kirishima blankly as if trying to process his words before slowly nodding. “Ok. Let’s go then, yea?” Kiri asks. Another nod in response before Shoto carefully gathers you into his arms. He ignores the way your body has already started to go cold as he carries you over to the stretcher. He tries to pretend they’re just rushing you to the hospital, that they’re speeding you over to recovery girl and in a few hours time you’ll be tired but cheery, teasing him for being so worried about nothing. But as he lays you down and then watches them zip you up into a black bag, he knows it’s a hopeless fantasy. You’re gone and you’re never coming back.

A few days later he sits in a black suit with a black tie and a silver chain carrying an engagement ring around his neck. He leans against Fuyumi, who sits on his left side, while his mother grasps tightly onto his right hand. Behind him Natsuo rests a steady hand on his shoulder. His father hovers nearby, unsure how best to offer his support or if his support would even be welcome. They are the only thing that keeps Shoto from falling apart. When the time comes, he stands on shaky legs and approaches your open casket. At first he’d been insistent he wouldn’t look, but his mother had argued his last image of you shouldn’t be your broken body, riddled with holes. So he looks down at you, pieced back together by some mortician, lying motionless in the nicest outfit you own and he traces every detail of you. He tries to patch over the memory of you broken on the ground that haunts him every night since it’s happened with this image of you now. He pictures all of the good and beautiful moments you’ve shared together, let’s them swell in his chest until they’re too large to contain and pour out of him through his silent tears. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your too cold forehead and mumbles to you again his final promise:

“I love you, (y/n). I’ll never forget you.”

#this hurt me so fucking bad to write oh my godddd #it’s so long too oh man I really said ‘you want pain? I’ll give you pain’#🤡🤡🤡#anyway even though it hurt I loved writing this #thanks for the request anon #hhrequests #shoto x y/n #todoroki x y/n #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki

142 notes · View notes