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daistea · 1 year ago

Note

Since you take requests, would I be able to ask for something with Mithrun and Kabru with like a reader that's kind of dense with social cues/hints (especially if they're romantic)?

(I had people confess their love to me, and I still didn't get it till they put it in very clear terms)

(it's probably the 'tism, but I digress. )

I think it's potentially an absolutely hellerious dynamic since Kabru always plays 5D chess with every social interaction. As for Mithrun, I think it's funny to think how the other canaries would just be repeatedly hitting their head on the wall because their captain won't say it straight and they just don't g e t i t.

Ps: I absolutely love how in-depth all of your understanding of characters and their personalities are, and I just hxfhxdvgudts.

This blog just brings me so much joy

Yaaa!!

“Iᴛ’s ᴀ Dᴀᴛᴇ” Kᴀʙʀᴜ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Mɪᴛʜʀᴜɴ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

gn reader

5000 words ;P

Warning: reader is very oblivious. Like incomprehensibly oblivious (for the lolz)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

♡ Kabru ♡

- Kabru has had little flings here and there throughout his life. He treated every partner with respect, of course, but Kabru wasn’t particularly looking for love. He doesn’t dislike the idea of love, it just hasn’t happened yet.

- So, when Kabru starts to genuinely fall in love with someone, it’s a new feeling. He’s observant enough to recognize what it is.

- Unfortunately, the person he’s falling in love with is you.

“He’s been unusually quiet lately,” Holm remarked. Who he was remarking that to remained to be seen. Mickbell didn’t care much. Kuro had other things to worry about. And Rin had already made the same observation three times earlier that day.

The first floor of the dungeon was always crowded, and Kabru’s ears were usually open for anything that could be of use. The leather armor merchant to his left had recently raised his prices. The cobbler to the right was in an argument with an older lady over the shape of a patch he’d made on her favorite boots. And Holm was concerned about Kabru’s recent lack of observations; as concerned as Holm could be.

“Is that really such a shock?” Kabru sent Holm a smile over his shoulder. “I’m not exactly a chatterbox.”

But he was aware of himself enough to know that his behavior lately had been odd. He was usually so good at hiding it, too, but the comfort of his friends seemed to lower his walls. Without realizing it, Kabru had spent their latest dungeon expedition sighing to himself, staring at walls, and missing the details of important things. On the third floor, they’d encountered thieves. His party always relied on him to clock the intentions of approaching adventurers— thieves tended to be overly familiar, friendly, and a bit too eager— but Kabru’s mind was elsewhere. The thieves attacked, and it had genuinely taken him by surprise. The fight wasn’t hard, but Kabru’s lack of preparation set off alarms in Rin and Holm’s heads.

“You’re not,” Rin agreed. Her brow furrowed and she got that cute little line on her forehead again. “However, you’ve really been out of it.”

“Have you been thinking about that person again?” Holm asked.

That person. That person? Kabru knew a lot of persons. The whole first level was filled to the brim with persons, half of them being his acquaintances. Kabru had zero desire to admit that he knew precisely who Holm was referring to, though, and decided to keep his gaze straight ahead as he weaved through the crowd.

When he didn’t respond, Mickbell laughed, “Yeah, he’s thinking of them alright.”

“Heat?” Kuro asked.

Mickbell scoffed from his place on Kuro’s shoulders, “Tall-men don’t go into heat! At least I don’t think so. But they catch feelings, like a cold. Kabru’s caught a cold.”

“Not sneezing,” Kuro mumbled.

“A feelings cold, I mean! The worst kind.”

That was one way to put it. Kabru couldn’t help but sigh as he led the party towards a quieter spot in the corner. Once they were out of the sea of people, he leaned against the stone wall and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t have feelings, I’m simply curious,” he said.

Curious. Right. Mickbell sent him a scrunched up, narrow-eyed look that was reminiscent of constipation. Yet, Rin interjected before the half-foot could say something heinous. “What’re you curious about, particularly?” She asked.

“Good question,” Kabru folded his arms over his chest and tilted his head in thought.

What was he curious about? You held so many secrets. You had this look in your eyes that drew him, a look that reminded him of a room in his mother’s house. She always told him to not go inside. Her rules only made him want to turn the knob even more. And when he finally did disobey her and go inside, all he saw were boxes full of ceramic unicorn miniatures. Still, the rush of satisfaction he’d felt at finally knowing what was in there couldn’t be matched. That’s what he wanted to do to you, open your door and take a peek.

Or, perhaps a ‘peek’ was an understatement. He wanted to meticulously inspect every inch of your mind with a microscope, to know the atoms unseen by the human eye, to be intimately acquainted with every molecule you possessed.

“He’s zoned out again,” Holm muttered, ripping Kabru out of his thoughts.

He looked up, eyes widening at the observation. Holm was right, he was zoned out again, staring at the dirt on the floor and contemplating you.

He forced a smile, “Don’t worry about me, really. I’m just preoccupied. It’s that person, I simply want to know their intentions.”

“Intentions for what?” Rin asked.

For everything. There was no simple answer.

“Oh hey,” Mickbell glanced over his shoulder. His voice was flat as he scanned the room, “There they are.”

Kabru followed Mickbell’s gaze, a straight line that led directly to you— all lines seemed to lead directly to you lately. His heart clenched in a way that was both unpleasant and addictive. Without realizing it, he pushed away from the wall and began striding toward where you stood.

“Wait,” Rin grabbed his arm as he passed. Kabru blinked, looking down at her and waiting for her to speak. She met his eyes and frowned, “I think you’re going to be disappointed. They’re not as mysterious as you think they are.”

Nonsense. You were incredibly mysterious. Kabru could tell you had secrets, layers. He dreamed of pulling them back one by one.

“They couldn’t disappoint me,” he sent Rin a smile that he hoped was reassuring— he knew it was, he’d practiced it in the mirror and on other people all the time.

“I think they will,” she argued.

“They won’t,” his smile faltered just the slightest. Rin didn’t usually get involved in Kabru’s… hobby. Did she know something he didn’t? He decided to not ask outright, accepting the challenge of figuring out the meaning behind her concern on his own.

Rin let go of his arm and Kabru was free to go. His mind switched elsewhere, onto you, and before he knew it he was already slipping through the crowd of bodies to reach you.

You were in front of the vegetable seller’s stand, inspecting a lumpy potato. Kabru knew the vegetable seller was cheating on his wife. Usually, he’d try to get more out of the man, digging deeper simply for the sake of knowing. Yet, you stood there, beautiful and mind-consuming. What did Rin mean by ‘I think you’re going to be disappointed’? Kabru was rarely disappointed with secrets.

“Hey,” he raised a hand as he neared. You looked up from the potato and returned his smile. There was that look in your eyes again, that closed door he desperately needed the key to.

He loved crowds. He loved the hundreds of voices. He loved listening to each one and assigning them meaning, picking apart their words, filing them away into neat little categories. Yet, the crowd might as well have disappeared. All he saw was you. All he wanted was you and your words and your thoughts and your fears and your goals and your likes and your dislikes and your intentions and your—

“Oh hey,” your voice cut through the wants like the slash of a sword, “Kapru.”

Kapru.

His brows furrowed and he plastered on a polite smile— also practiced in the mirror. “It’s Kabru.”

“Right, sorry,” you shrugged.

Were you playing with him? Were you sending your pawn out, a piece that you expected him to take for the sake of a larger, more powerful move? Was it bait?

“How are you?” He forced himself to ask, though he could hear the weakness in his voice. He desperately hoped you wouldn’t notice.

You only tilted your head in thought, “I’m fine. Just buying potatoes.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other,” Kabru said. It was a lie, you saw him last week. “My party and I are about to go back to the surface to restock. We could grab a drink if you wanted.”

“Why?” You asked.

Why? Why? Kabru couldn’t say why. He wouldn’t say why. ‘I want to take detailed notes on every word you say, every gesture, every breath’ wouldn’t be helpful to his cause in the least.

“Because we’re friends,” he slowly explained. Again, there was that hint of weakness lacing every syllable. He wanted to tear his voice box apart and reconstruct it in a way that wouldn’t falter every time he saw you.

But you didn’t seem to notice. “Alright,” you sent him a smile that made his heart clench.

Alright. Kabru’s smile relaxed, “Alright,” he echoed. “It’s a date.”

‘It’s a date’ was a common saying, of course. But it still held implications, it still held desires, it still signified something more— At least to him it did.

You remained unphased by it, though. Usually, when Kabru said that, there would be a laugh or blush or the widening of eyes. You gave him nothing of the sort. No flirtatious looks, no intention-laced smile, no flicker of recognition.

“See you then,” was all you said.

Rin was wrong. You couldn’t disappoint him. Opening your doors and peeking inside your mind would be so satisfying.

- You go on several dates with Kabru without realizing they’re dates.

- After one date when you make friends with the next table over and invite them to join your meal, introducing Kabru as ‘my friend’ and not ‘the man who is courting me’ or ‘my boyfriend’, he begins to wonder…

- Do you not realize that these are dates?

Kabru knew he had the tendency to stare, but he usually kept that urge locked away for the sake of masking. Always masking. Always aware of his surroundings and the people and the words and the looks.

He kept his staring urge hidden at first. Yet as time passed, as you went on more dates, he couldn’t help himself. He had to stare. He had to drink in every detail of your face, coveting it all as a desert wanderer would covet water.

And you didn’t seem to mind. You would give him this look sometimes, a look he couldn’t quite decipher. It was a mixture between affection and confusion and bashfulness. It was his favorite expression of yours and never failed to put butterflies in his stomach.

Kabru knew he was falling in love. He wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he’d never been truly in love before. At night when he forced himself into bed, he stared at the ceiling and mused on the future you had together. Neither of you had said anything to make the relationship official, but was that even needed? It was obvious that you were together— to him, at least.

Kabru held your hand as he led you through the crowded streets. Once you caught up to his side, he placed his palm on the small of your back. He wasn’t much for PDA, but it was a necessity when traversing the island together. He didn’t want to lose you in the crowd.

Once you were in a more quiet spot, he sent you a smile, “I have to ask, I’m too curious; What’s your favorite date that we’ve had together?”

You thought for a moment, “Hm… I would have to say last week. It was a Thursday. I like Thursdays anyway. I think it was the 7th? Yeah. June 7th, Thursday. That’s a good date, it’s a bit cool outside and all the flowers are blooming. But if I had to say which one was my favorite, I think it would be April 18th. I’m not sure that we spent that date together, though.”

…Okay.

Like the sunset rising over the mountains, it began to dawn on him.

Were you stupid?

No, you weren’t stupid. He had seen you in the dungeon before, how you fought and strategized and reacted. You couldn’t be stupid.

Then what? Were you playing hard to get? Were you teasing him? Was this a move on the board, your Knight piece pressing forward to continue the assault? Kabru needed to know.

He kept his hand on your back but his gaze straight ahead. “That’s nice,” he said. It wasn’t nice, actually. “What about when we hold hands? Do you enjoy that?”

You shrugged, “It helps us keep track of each other as we go through a crowd.”

“But I hold your hand even when we’re not around other people.”

The face you made betrayed your true thoughts. “Yeah, it seems like your hands are cold a lot. You really should start keeping gloves with you.”

“...Do you think I’m holding your hand because my fingers are cold?”

Another flash of confusion, another furrow of your brows. “Why else would you hold my hand?”

The sun rose completely over the mountains and the daytime, clear and bright, engulfed his world.

You had no clue.

- This stresses Kabru out immensely.

- He starts taking notes. He has a special little book just for you. A lot of the pages are filled with scribbles and question marks.

- He makes a plan on what to do. He’s going to up the ante, he’s going to make his feelings so clear that you can’t ignore them or be oblivious even if you tried.

- He starts getting more touchy. He kisses your forehead often. He kisses your knuckles. He’s around you all the time, every chance he gets. He tells you you’re beautiful. He says that he wants you to meet his mother. He talks about your future together.

- You say, “Oh, your mom? Cool. You think we’ll get along? I’m always up for making new friends.”

- “You want a future with me? Well, I’m free next Wednesday.”

“I like you,” Kabru was breathless and wide-eyed. His hair was a mess from how often he’d run his fingers through it. He was disheveled and hadn’t slept the entire night.

You glanced up from the book you were reading, “Oh? Cool, thanks.”

He sent you a look. “No, I mean I love you.”

“Yeah,” you flipped a page in the book, “love you too.”

“You do?” Hope bloomed and unfurled like a spring flower. Kabru felt his cheeks grow warm, a fire igniting within him.

“Yeah,” you said lightly, “I love all my friends, of course.”

That spring flower suddenly wilted. The fire was doused by a cold bucket of water in the form of your words. Kabru wanted to scream and bang his head against the wall.

“You don’t get it,” he hissed through clenched teeth, fingers tensing as he leaned forward, desperate. “I’m in love with you. This is really hard for me to say, but I think you need to hear it like this. I love you. I love you. I love you…” Somehow, his cheeks went even hotter. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed his embarrassment, “I-I… Sorry. I just need you like I need oxygen. I…”

You snorted, “You don’t need me to breathe, I’m a person not an organ. You’re breathing right now just fine.”

He was not breathing just fine, but that was beside the point.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Kabru said. He could hear how strained his voice sounded.

You watched as he walked away, rounding a corner and disappearing from sight. Then he screamed. It sounded like he also kicked something, a crate or box maybe.

How odd.

- When it finally gets through your head, he’s actually a bit satisfied by your embarrassment at it all. Yes, please do acknowledge your obliviousness. Please do apologize for treating his love confession so casually. When you do so, he feels as if he could melt from the relief.

- He still wants to bang his head on the wall, though.

- And he’s spent a lot of nights screaming into his pillow.

- Kabru continues to play 5d chess with you, just simply out of habit, but you’re playing Hungry Hungry Hippos the entire time. He still finds himself trying to pick apart your actions and responses, but he’s learned how to take things at face value when it comes to you. It’s a difficult adjustment, but one he’s willing to make.

- He starts to learn, take more notes, observe your behavior. For dates, he lays it out carefully. You two are going to do this specific thing. Why? Because he would like to see you happy, and hold your hand, and kiss you. Why? Because he loves you. Now you get it.

- You’re fascinating actually. Genuinely, he starts to adore how your brain works. He wants to pick it apart and hold the pieces up to a magnifying glass.

♡ Mithrun ♡

- He does not care.

- Be as oblivious as you want, that’s not going to stop Mithrun.

- The Canaries, however, are going insane.

“How’s it going with them?” Pattadol asked. Her hands were folded in front of her in that polite way, the way that told Mithrun that his second in command had something on her mind. Pattadol thought she was subtle. She was not.

And he knew precisely who she was referring to. Might as well give her an answer that’ll satisfy her curiosity, lest she keep asking questions.

“Fine,” he answered, “just fine.”

Yet, Pattadol’s brow furrowed. Not a good sign.

“Just fine?” She asked. Her voice went up a pitch. “It’s just fine? Really?”

“Really.”

She unlaced her fingers and spread out her hands as if gesturing to something, but all that surrounded them was Mithrun’s under-decorated living quarters. There was really nothing to gesture at besides the wooden cabinets and the bed. Mithrun waited, aware that she was picking through her piles of thoughts— probably thoughts mixed with screams of frustration— to find the right words.

Finally, Pattadol forced a shaken smile, “It’s clear to anyone that knows you that you’re in love with them, Captain.”

That was what she decided to say? It was a bit blunt for Pattadol’s usual style. Mithrun only shrugged, “Yeah, you’re right. It’s pretty obvious.”

“So why haven’t they noticed yet?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I want you to be happy for once!” Pattadol snapped, but she then took a deep breath, “Sorry, Captain, I didn’t mean to sound that way. This is hard for me, talking so openly about these things… But it’s so frustrating to watch.”

Mithrun could understand that. While he personally wasn’t frustrated by the circumstances, he knew that the Canaries couldn’t stand watching his interactions with you. It wasn’t a big deal in the long run, in his opinion. They’d get over it.

“Thank you,” he answered.

“Do you have any ideas on how we can do that?”

“Do what?”

Pattadol’s eye twitched ever so slightly. Her fingers tensed like claws, and Mithrun felt the corner of his lips turn up in a barely-there smirk. But genuinely, he wasn’t sure what she referred to. Did she mean the part about him being happy, or the part about you being oblivious? She should’ve been more clear.

“About…” she hesitated. Obviously she wasn’t sure what she meant either. She then nodded as if deciding, “About everything. About the obliviousness, your happiness, etcetera.”

He didn’t know what the etcetera referred to, but didn’t care to ask. “You don’t have to do anything,” Mithrun assured her as he leaned back in the chair and folded his arms. The wood creaked slightly from the movement. Everything on this boat creaked, as was the nature of boats, he guessed.

“I would like to do something,” Pattadol nodded, determined. “We all would.”

A shrug, “Alright. Then do something.”

- Pattadol, over-achiever and top student and certified Girl Who Cares Too Much, takes that as a challenge.

- Cithis only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- Fleki also only joins because she thinks it’ll be funny.

- And Lycion also also joins because he thinks it’ll be funny (though he does care on some level. Not really about you, but about Mithrun. And it’s painful to watch.)

- Otta is forced to join.

- The attempts are weak at first, like dipping a toe into the water to see how cold it is. Mithrun only has so much patience for interference with his life, so they have to be smart and tread carefully.

- Pattadol gives Mithrun a hint. “There’s some pretty flowers growing beside the road over there. You should give one to them!”

- “What would they need a flower for?”

- Mithrun asks that on purpose. He knows precisely what he’s doing. Yes, people generally like receiving flowers, he knows that. But he also believes that flowers are useless gifts.

- “Then what present do you suggest?” Pattadol asks.

- Mithrun has an idea. He gets you soap. Everybody uses soap (hopefully) It’s a useful gift, and if he gives you the same kind he uses then he’ll get some weird sick flicker of pleasure from having his scent on you. (He wisely chooses to not say that part aloud.)

You held the little bar of soap in your hands as if it were an injured baby bird you found on the ground. Yet your feelings towards it were far from protective or empathetic. This soap said something. It had a mouth and it used it to scream.

You met Mithrun’s flat gaze, “Soap…”

He nodded, “Yeah. Soap. It’s a gift for you.”

For you?

Mithrun continued, “It’s the same kind I use. Smells the same.”

It felt as if you’d swallowed a handful of pebbles and they all had gotten stuck in your throat. “Do you… think I’m stinky?”

You cursed yourself for even asking that. What a useless question. Obviously, he thought you stank! He gave you soap! He was trying to tell you something, being subtle and polite for once! Usually Mithrun would just say it bluntly, but he’d been working on his desires lately. Perhaps he’d also decided to embrace societal expectations? You weren’t sure. But soap. Soap!

You didn’t notice how Mithrun tensed. You didn’t see him quickly blink several times and tilt his head. You didn’t see the slight widening of his good eye. “No, I—“

“I’ll go use this right now,” you interrupted, “I’ll go wash away my stench so you can finally stand to be near me.”

Despite the horror, you were a bit proud of yourself. You’d taken a hint, maybe you were getting less oblivious.

- In your defense, a bar of soap is a weird gift.

- Alright. Mithrun admits it, he needs help. He’s not so prideful anymore that he won’t admit that he doesn’t know what to do.

- Pattadol is really triumphant about that but does her best not to show it.

- Plan B: make it so obvious that you have no choice but to realize his feelings.

“This has to be the most physically uncomfortable I’ve felt in a very long time,” Mithrun said as he tugged at the ends of the fancy, over-decorated blouse the Canaries had put him in. “I honestly prefer Cithis’s frilly dresses.”

Which was saying something. Mithrun had a preference? That was a good sign.

“It makes you look handsome,” Pattadol said.

“The only thing it makes me is itchy,” he corrected.

The Canaries had somehow found a blouse— not a shirt or tunic, a blouse— that made Mithrun feel something other than indifference. He usually didn’t care about what he wore, as long as it was comfortable, but the clothes they’d stuffed him into were offensive to human-kind, like vegan bacon.

It had a big frill on the front and puffy sleeves. It was somehow both too flowy and too tight at the same time. The trousers weren’t much better, digging into his legs. And the shoes…

Mithrun didn’t want to talk about the shoes.

It was clear to him that Fleki and Cithis had only contributed to the outfit because they thought it would be amusing. Good for them, he supposed. Pattadol seemed to genuinely like it, Otta looked horrified, and Lycion was in some in between state where he wanted to show pity but couldn’t quite stifle his giggles.

“Remind me again what the point of this is?” Mithrun asked with a sigh.

“We got them to agree to a date!” Pattadol said, grinning, “I said outright ‘it’s a date’ so there would be no confusion. I made it clear that the date was with you. Now, if you show up looking like a million gold with a bouquet of flowers, they’ll get the hint.”

Mithrun did not want to do that.

Mithrun rarely wanted to do anything, but this just felt wrong. In his opinion, the relationship between you and him would develop naturally in a way that fit both of your personalities. He didn’t mind waiting for you to realize his intentions, he had time. As long as you didn’t fall in love with someone else, and didn’t stop him from staring at you or touching you, then he wasn’t in a rush.

But since the Canaries insisted, seeming to think that this was the right course of action, he would go along with it. Maybe it would be an utter disaster and Pattadol would realize that she knew very little about relationships— especially a relationship involving Mithrun. He was aware enough of himself to know that it wouldn’t be conventional.

With his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and the ridiculous outfit on, Mithrun entered the restaurant Pattadol had chosen. He found you immediately. You sat in a chair with your elbow on the table and your ankles crossed, waiting.

Mithrun held a bouquet of pink roses as he approached. You lit up when you saw him, but your brows then furrowed.

“Where’s Pattadol?” You asked.

His stride faltered, “She isn’t coming.”

“Oh,” you shrugged, “well since she set this up I assumed she’d be here.”

Why would she be here? It was a date Pattadol had set up for you and Mithrun specifically.

You probably didn’t know it was a date, he realized. Pattadol thought she’d been clear by saying ‘it’s a date’ but failed to realize that that was just a common phrase among people and meant nothing to no one.

Calm, he slid into the seat across from you and watched as you raised a brow, “What’re you wearing?” You asked.

“My team picked it out for me.”

“You look like you’re part of an opera or a ballet, like you’re about to stand beneath a balcony and start spouting poetry to your lover.”

That was a good description, actually. Those were the words Mithrun had been looking for earlier when he saw himself in the mirror.

He nodded, “Yep.” Then, wordlessly, he held out the bouquet to you.

Your eyes widened, “For me?”

“I’m handing them to you, aren’t I?”

Gingerly, you took the flowers and held the stem of the wrapped bouquet with both hands as you inspected each petal.

A flicker of surprising satisfaction ran through his chest. You liked the flowers. It made sense, most people liked flowers, even if he didn’t see why.

You dipped your head down toward them presumably to smell them, but your lips then parted and you dug your teeth into the nearest rose.

Mithrun froze.

You chewed on the rose, your nose wrinkling in disgust. You gave the flower a good shot, a proper taste, but it didn’t take long until you grabbed a napkin and spit up the pink slobbery mess into it.

“Sorry,” you sent him an apologetic smile and tried to hand the bouquet back to him, “they don’t taste that good, and I don’t think I could season or cook them in a way that would help.”

Mithrun knew he was staring. He knew he was making a face, slightly tilting his head down, intensity in his eye. The kind of face someone made when they were internally screaming.

He was not internally screaming, but he was thinking— about you, how your brain worked. And how it was so damn charming for some reason and all he wanted to do was kiss you until he was all you could think about.

He wanted something. The feeling was sweet, a shot of adrenaline, one of Fleki’s drugs. Addictive. Like the slow drip of honey. He could survive off that want for ages.

Wordlessly, Mithrun threw the bouquet over his shoulder to get rid of it. Judging by the gasp that followed, it probably hit someone in the head.

Loving you was as natural to him as breathing.

- Mithrun decides to not let the Canaries interfere any longer. He was wrong earlier in thinking he needed their help. He doesn’t.

- Also, watching them go insane over your obliviousness and his lack of communication provides a good bit of entertainment.

- When he finally decides to give into that all-consuming, new, exciting desire and kiss you, your response is, “But I wasn’t casting a spell, no reason to try and stop me.”

- God, he adores you.

- He takes kisses whenever he wants them, with no care about what you think his intention is.

- After a certain kiss that involves tongue and teeth and fingers digging into your waist, you start to openly wonder… Are you in a relationship with Mithrun?

“Yes,” Mithrun didn’t even glance up at you, remaining unphased by your rather serious question, “We’re in a relationship.”

He continued to jot down notes about a monster he saw, as if he’d just casually answered a question about the weather. ‘Is it going to rain today?’ ‘Yeah looks like it.’

You gulped, “How long?”

“A year now,” he kept writing. Truthfully, he’d been expecting this. A flash of disappointment crossed his mind; there goes one of his hobbies, watching the Canaries have a crisis over his love life.

You buried your face in your hands. Mithrun stopped writing and patted your head as if comforting a dog.

- The Canaries are pleased that this is over. But actually, they’re going to have to watch you not realize it when you’re engaged to the Captain.

- At your wedding you’re in regular clothes. Someone asks why and you say “Mithrun told me we’re going to a wedding. He didn’t say it was ours.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

#dungeon meshi #asks #mithrun #delicious in dungeon #mithrun of the house of kerensil #mithrun x reader #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi x reader #kabru x reader #kabru #kabru of utaya #x reader #reader insert #my writing #gn reader #oblivious reader

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thewitchblue · 8 months ago

Text

"Look, I'm very flattered but I'm very married."

You tell Nightwing as you hold up your hand as proof. You aren't married yet, but the wedding is coming up soon so you consider him as your husband. Everybody knows Nightwing is the flirty hero, but this time seemed like he was going really hard. It's as if he knows you and it's some shared secret. You look confused as Nightwing laughs.

"Who's the guy, honey bunny?"

You huff. The nerve of him to keep the flirtatious tone of voice. He sounds so familiar, and he used the nickname Dick always uses for you, but you don't think Nightwing as Dick: your gentle and loving fiancée.

"His name is Richard, but his friends and family call him Dick. I get the privilege of calling him my bumblebee. He's as sweet as honey."

Dick had to hide his smile. He's been your bumblebee for as long as he's called you honey bunny. He thought it was adorable that you linked up your nicknames and it was incredibly creative.

"That is adorable. I'll have to keep an eye out for him."

You smiled softly. He watched almost in awe as you entirely melt at the mention of him. You have a fond look in your eyes as you reminisced.

You truly cherish your bumblebee and love him with your entire heart. You had a hard upbringing, like most Gotham kids, but Dick polished you like a gem and made you shine.

Dick smiled equally fondly at you. He knew you loved him dearly, but it's nice to get confirmation as a seemingly second-hand party. He knows he should have told you about Nightwing a long time ago, but his family and friends hold him back every time. They are so cautious with their secret identities that it makes him nervous to take the dive.

"Well, how about I walk you home at least."

He made up his mind. He's going to tell you. The second you two are home with Hayley loving you more than him (like usual).

"I'm sure your husband is dying to be next to you."

You frowned. Can't he take a hint and leave? You immediately reject his offer,

"Oh, you don't have to. I only live a few streets away."

He smiles at how fiercely you are rejecting him. Not even the great hero Nightwing can make you even consider cheating on him. It makes his heart melt to think about the fact that you won't fall for anybody else. He is the main priority, and he will always be your number one. You turn to leave, ignoring and shutting down his flirting at every chance and shooing him away.

He followed across rooftops as you walked off to meet you at your shared apartment anyway. He decided to share Nightwing with you. You had a very serious relationship, and he knows he can trust you. He needs to take the dive. You share everything with him, and it's time he shares Nightwing with you.

#gn reader #dick grayson x reader #oblivious reader

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hotnbloodied · 1 year ago

Note

Hiiii can I request popular yandere classmate x oblivious reader, oh and can it be smut pleassee?

Thanks for your ask! I started randomly naming all my yanderes even if they are all one shots, I don't know if I want to keep it though. We'll see. This one almost fucking tore me to shreds, I might need a break after this. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

-˚ʚ♡ɞ˚HB˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Yan!Popular Boy X Oblivious Reader (!!SMUT!!)

!Warning! This post contains yandere themes and topics that may be uncomfortable to people who are sensitive to the topic, read at your own discretion.

CW: not proof read, yous/yours used, gn reader, there is SEX, sloppy lewd writing, yandere tendencies, reader is kind of silly here. (LMK if I'm missing anything.)

!!READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!! MINORS DNI!!

It was the first group project of the year! You and three other people were going to be randomly assigned together to work on a research project about something or another. The first two seemed like nice people but the third was Atticus, your friends have talked about him before. Wasn’t he popular or something? When the group met face to face you finally understood why, he was funny, charismatic and quite the looker. Your group decided to meet up in the library and you thanked your lucky stars that it seemed everyone was working well with each other. The other two in the group knew each other and were friends so when one of them had to leave later on in the day the other one did so as well leaving you and Atticus the only ones in the group still in the library.

Without the other two here, people were more inclined to come by to say hi to Atticus causing him to get distracted, you didn’t care much honestly, you had work to do after all. You overheard a couple of the people who came to talk to Atticus talk about some sort of group karaoke and that he should join them. “Sorry guys, I’m still with my group partner,” he apologized. You looked up, “it’s all good, this is just the first day after all.” Atticus looked at you incredulously. “See? Even your groupmate thinks it’s fine. Join us, Atticus, the girls are asking for you.” Internally he was annoyed, he already said no and the least his groupmate could do was back him up. Were you really that stupid? Eventually though, he was able to convince them to leave him alone. But when he turned expecting to see you still sitting there you were gone. Your stuff was still here so he assumed you went to get more material to research.

Scanning over the library he spots you eventually, struggling to reach for a book on a higher shelf. He sighs and starts walking over to assist but it turns into a run when he notices that you’re about to get toppled by said books. He covers you from getting hurt and curses at himself because having books fall on him fucking hurts. “What are you doing?” He says sternly, “if you can’t reach something ask for help.” He gasps, some of his true self leaked out, his image of a prince type is over. “Dang I’m sorry, you’re right. No sense in getting myself hurt, thanks! By the way, are you okay?” Suddenly, his heart raced, he didn’t know why. It might have been the way you looked under him currently, or it might have been the way you accept his rough tone with you, but either way he was going to explore it, explore you.

The project goes by smoothly, you still hang out with Atticus since the two of you exchanged numbers due to the project. You found it really weird though, each time you hung out with him and his friends, his friends were never able to make it. You hope you’re not scaring them away. Little did you know that if anyone is scaring people away it’s Atticus. The more time he spent with you was like heaven but also hell. He loved spending time and learning new things about you but, fuck, why were you not picking up any of the hints and flirty signs he was giving you?! Like today when it was just the two of you again, you two were at the movies and he tried to get an arm over your shoulder. “Oh my! Are you cold? Here, you can have my jacket.” And wrapped him up in your jacket! Sure, being able to smell your scent was nice but that’s not what he wanted! To rub salt on the wound too, after the movies his friends spotted him and invited you two to join them and you ACCEPTED! “Oh sorry, were you guys on a date?” One of his friends asked. “Oh no, we’re just chilling! We’d love to join you!” You responded. He almost choked up blood.

He went to his last resort and feigned sickness. Worry etched your face and you apologized as you helped carry him away. He convinced you to go to his place since it was nearby and was a bit hurt that you agreed so readily, you were going to be in a private space with him after all. Arriving at his place you helped him inside, all the way to his room. As you wished him better and got up to leave he tugged your arm. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Hm? What’s up, need something?” He hugs you, “I… I need you.” Not sure what he meant, but feeling like he needed this, you hugged him and both of you stayed like that for a while. That was, until his lower half decided to act up. “Do you, uh, need help with that?” You ask, almost too innocently. His face flushed, “help with this…?” “Of course, a boner is a natural part of your body, you know. Though I also heard that boners don’t happen just because someone is horny though…are you horny?” Atticus felt the blood rush to his head, all he could do was meekly nod.

You were sucking on his member, he could tell that you’ve done something like this before but maybe not too often due to the slight hesitation you exhibited. Regardless though he never imagined you would have been so willing to do this for him, should he have asked sooner? The sight of your mouth wrapped so prettily around his cock, he wasn’t the type that was quick to cum but just because it was you doing this act on him he felt close. He couldn’t have that, so he grabbed your shoulder and urged you on to his bed. “Take off your clothes,” he instructs. You did as he told, he gulped, he wanted this for how long now? It felt surreal that this was real. He couldn’t help but use his hands to explore your body, groping, touching, feeling your warmth. Your breathing quickened, you weren’t sure why he was taking so long, his exploration of your body started making you feel needy. You were close to telling him to hurry but let out a yelp when he started to suck and lick on your chest. He worked his way down to your lower area.

“What are you doing? Is all this necessary?” You ask him. “Please,” he begged, “I just need this, won’t you let me?” You whimpered, this is good and all but all this teasing is something you aren’t used to. He sucked and tongue prodded you for a while, you said that you would let him do what he wanted but you wanted to release soon and his tongue wasn’t doing that for you. “Hey, uh– hnn!!” Before you could say anything more he inserted a finger then two into you, rhythmically finger fucking you. Making sure to brush against your g spot each time. You were so close and Atticus knew it, so he stopped making you whine even louder. “Why did you stop?” “Grind on my dick,” he ordered. Sluggishly you got up and did as he was told. “Don’t even try to insert before I allow you to.” So you rubbed your sensitive area against him, slow at first but even you can grow impatient and you’ve been that for a while. Your wetness making a mess and with your bodies grinding against each other a squelching sound reverberated through the room along with the heavy panting and moaning. “Soon please?” You begged. Atticus needed you badly as well so he pushed you down on the bed again and aligned himself before pushing in causing you to scream out from the intrusion. He jackhammered you silly, “fuck, fuck, fuck, please. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he chanted like a mantra, “I need you so bad.” What followed was one of the hardest orgasms you ever had. He unsheathed from you and quickly went to your face marking your face all over with his seed.

After a couple of beats you asked, “hey, uh, can I have some napkins?” “S-sorry,” he scrambled to his drawer and took out a box of tissues. After you cleaned yourself up you asked, “I’d like to borrow your bathroom.” He told you that it was down the hall. You took your clothes and left his room, when you came back you thanked him. “Well that was fun! I’m going to head home now. I’ll see you later alright?” And left. He was shocked, how fucking clueless can you be?? He was going to make sure you understood that you were his now and he was going to move heaven and hell to make sure that happens, his darling.

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xichilie · 4 months ago

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A Fools Devotion (2)

Brant x (fem)reader

Previous part

The following days, the Troupe of Fools made it their mission to help Brant confess his feelings for Y/N. It was no small task, given the Captain's flamboyant nature and Y/N's cheerful obliviousness.

Gathered in their hideout, the crew huddled around a makeshift table, the air thick with excitement and determination.

“Alright, team,” Brant said, slapping his hands together as he addressed his crew. “Today’s performance is going to be the highlight of the season! Let’s ensure everything goes perfectly!”

He looked around at their faces, blissfully unaware that they were not actually focused on the performance.

Roccia raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Uh, Brant? We’re not talking about the performance today.”

“What do you mean? It’s always about the performance!” Brant replied, feigning confusion.

Andreas leaned in, an impish grin spreading across his face. “No, no. We’re talking about… how to help you express yourself.”

Brant’s grin faltered for just a moment, but he quickly regained composure. “Oh, you mean the performance? Yes! I shall perform a grand romantic gesture!”

Dionysia rolled her eyes. “No, not the performance. Your feelings for Y/N!”

Brant paused, blinking as realization struck him. “You mean… you all know?”

“Duh!” Mosi said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not exactly subtle.”

Barton leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “We want to help you, Brant. We need to drop some hints for Y/N, so she realizes how you really feel.”

“Hints? What do you suggest?” Brant asked, tilting his head.

“Simple,” Riel said with a mischievous grin. “Just show her how much you care—without the theatrics. Like a simple compliment or a friendly gesture.”

“Right!” Brant said, excitement igniting in his eyes. “I can do that!”

That very evening, the Troupe gathered for their performance. The stage was set, the audience buzzing with anticipation. Y/N, dressed in her vibrant outfit, stood next to Brant as they waited for their cue.

“Ready for the show?” Brant asked, his tone casual, though his heart raced.

“Always!” Y/N replied with enthusiasm, completely missing the longing in his gaze.

As the performance began, the Troupe executed their routines flawlessly, but Brant’s attention kept drifting toward Y/N. Every time she caught his eye, a surge of warmth filled him. It was enough to distract him from his lines.

During a particularly comedic moment, as Brant dramatically swung his sword, he made sure to direct the action towards Y/N, hoping to elicit laughter.

“Well done, Captain!” she cheered, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

“Of course! But it’s all for you, my shining star!” he called out, trying to gauge her reaction.

The rest of the Troupe exchanged knowing glances, hopeful that this would finally break through.

After the show, the crew gathered in the common area, basking in the post-performance glow. Laughter filled the space, and Brant felt high on the adrenaline of the performance and Y/N’s smile.

As the crew began to unwind, Roccia seized the moment. “Y/N, what do you think of Brant’s performance? Pretty impressive, right?”

Y/N nodded, still glowing from the excitement. “He was amazing! He always knows how to put on a show.”

“Yeah, but he was really doing it for you,” Mosi chimed in, smirking. “Did you notice how he kept looking at you?”

Y/N chuckled, shrugging it off. “I think he just likes to put on a good performance.”

The crew collectively groaned, exchanging exasperated looks.

“Alright, let’s try something different,” Riel said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Y/N, do you want to help Brant with his sword practice tomorrow? I hear he could use a sparring partner.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, a smile creeping onto her face. “Really? That sounds fun! I’d love to.”

The Troupe exchanged hopeful glances.

“Perfect!” Brant said, his enthusiasm barely contained. “You’ll see how much fun we have together! Right, Y/N?”

“Right!” she replied, completely oblivious to the underlying motives behind their suggestion.

The next day, as the sun bathed the hideout in golden light, Y/N arrived early for her sparring session with Brant. He was already there, warming up and stretching, an effortless mix of elegance and power.

“Hey, Brant!” she called, waving cheerfully. “Ready to train?”

Brant turned, his heart racing at the sight of her. “Absolutely! But remember, I can’t go easy on you just because you’re a friend!”

Y/N laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Bring it on!”

As they began, Brant tried to focus, using every opportunity to show off his skills while also demonstrating his care for her. He ensured their sparring felt lighthearted, but as he parried her strikes, his heart raced with unexpressed affection.

“Nice move!” Y/N complimented, her face flushed with excitement. “You’re so good at this!”

“Not as good as you,” Brant replied, his voice dropping just slightly.

Y/N grinned, completely missing the weight of his words. “Thanks! This is so much fun!”

As they continued to spar, Brant’s affection grew more pronounced in his movements. He dodged her strikes with playful banter, and the two of them fell into an easy rhythm—brushing close enough that he could smell her hair, feel the warmth radiating from her.

“See? We make a great team!” she said, giggling as she landed a light strike against him.

Brant feigned shock, his hand on his chest. “How dare you! I shall not go down without a fight!”

The crew watched from a distance, half-amused and half-exasperated.

“Is it working?” Barton asked, trying to suppress a grin.

“Not even a little,” Roccia replied, shaking her head.

As the sparring match continued, Brant saw an opening to show her how much she truly meant to him. He feigned a slip, falling backward dramatically as if he had lost his footing, and before Y/N could react, he caught her wrist and pulled her down with him.

Both of them landed on the ground, laughter spilling from their lips as they found themselves in an awkward but playful tangle. Brant’s heart raced; he could feel her warmth radiating against him, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

“Whoa, this was not my plan,” Y/N giggled, her cheeks flushed as she looked down at him.

“Sometimes, the best moments are unplanned,” Brant said softly, holding her gaze.

Just as he was about to say something more, the rest of the crew erupted in laughter.

“Nice move, Captain!” Mosi called out, barely able to contain himself.

Y/N giggled, oblivious to the teasing. “Thanks, Mosi!”

Brant felt a mix of frustration and adoration swell within him. It was all so clear to everyone else, but Y/N just saw his antics as friendly gestures. He wished he could break through that barrier, but each attempt seemed to backfire, making him feel more like a fool.

He sat up, still holding her wrist gently, their faces mere inches apart. “Well, we should probably get back to practice,” he said, a hint of disappointment coloring his voice.

Y/N smiled, completely unaware of the turmoil within him. “Yeah, let’s do it!”

As they stood up and resumed their sparring, Brant couldn’t help but think that he was running out of time. He needed to confess, and soon, or risk losing the chance to make her see him for what he truly felt.

In the heart of the Troupe of Fools’ hideout, a secret meeting was underway. The atmosphere was tense—not with danger, but with sheer, exasperated determination.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Dionysia groaned, flopping onto the nearest chair. “Brant is basically a walking love poem at this point, and she still doesn’t get it.”

“Not just a love poem,” Andreas corrected, smirking. “More like an entire romantic stage play, performed with extra flair.”

Mosi snorted. “And yet, Y/N sees it as him just being his usual dramatic self.”

Brant, who had been gracefully lounging across a pile of cushions, placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me! Am I truly so theatrical that my affections are mistaken for mere performance?”

“Yes,” Roccia answered flatly, barely looking up from the deck of cards she was shuffling.

Brant let out an exaggerated sigh, sinking deeper into the cushions. “Tragic.”

Barton leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Alright, we need to take action. We have to get them alone together—properly alone, not just for five minutes before someone else barges in.”

Riel smirked. “I think I’ve got just the thing.”

Everyone leaned in as he outlined the plan.

The next morning, Y/N was in the middle of helping Roccia organize stage props when Riel approached, looking suspiciously official.

“Y/N, we need your help with something important,” he said, barely keeping a straight face.

She perked up. “Of course! What’s going on?”

“There’s a supply issue,” he said smoothly. “We need someone to meet with one of our contacts outside the hideout.”

“Okay! Who’s coming with me?”

“Brant.”

Y/N blinked. “Oh.” Then she shrugged. “Makes sense! He’s good at talking to people.”

Brant, who had been in the middle of adjusting his coat, turned around with a dazzling grin. “Why, yes, I am.”

Behind them, the Troupe exchanged silent high-fives.

The walk to their so-called mission was peaceful, the sun casting golden light over Rinascita’s rugged terrain. Brant, usually one to fill any silence with a grand speech, found himself unusually quiet.

Y/N, however, was completely at ease. “This is kinda nice,” she said, stretching her arms. “I don’t usually get to go on these little errands with you.”

Brant turned to her with a smile. “Are you saying you enjoy my company?”

She gave him a playful look. “Obviously. You’re fun to be around.”

His heart did a dramatic somersault. She enjoys my company. This is progress.

Unfortunately, his moment of internal celebration was cut short when they arrived at their destination—only to find it suspiciously deserted.

Y/N frowned. “Huh. Where’s the contact?”

Brant rubbed his chin, pretending to think. “Perhaps they left early. Or perhaps…” He snapped his fingers. “We’ve been set up.”

Y/N gasped. “By who?”

Brant sighed dramatically. “By my own crew.”

There was a pause.

Y/N tilted her head. “…Wait. What?”

Brant crossed his arms, turning toward the path they had come from. “Think about it. An urgent mission that somehow only required the two of us? A contact who mysteriously isn’t here? Oh, they’re good.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. “So… we just walked all this way for nothing?”

Brant, ever the showman, gestured grandly. “Not nothing. We got a lovely stroll, some quality time together, and—”

And then, as if on cue, a raindrop landed squarely on his forehead.

“…Oh, that’s not a good sign,” Y/N muttered.

Within seconds, the drizzle turned into a downpour.

Drenched and laughing, they sprinted toward the nearest shelter—a small, abandoned watchtower. Inside, the space was dimly lit, the sound of rain pattering against stone.

Y/N wrung out her sleeves with a sigh. “Well. This is not how I thought today was going to go.”

Brant ran a hand through his wet hair, smirking. “An unpredictable twist! Exactly what makes a story memorable.”

She plopped down beside him, her legs stretched out. “Yeah, yeah. You and your dramatics.”

Brant huffed. “I am a professional, thank you.”

Y/N nudged his shoulder. “You are fun, though.”

Brant’s heart did another somersault. He cleared his throat. “Y/N, have you ever thought that maybe… someone has been trying to tell you something important, but you just haven’t noticed?”

Y/N thought for a moment, tapping her chin. “Like what?”

Brant stared at her for a long second before sighing. “By the stars, you really are oblivious.”

She gasped. “Hey!”

Brant gave her a look. “Y/N. I am the one who’s been trying to tell you something.”

Y/N blinked. “Wait. You mean—?”

Brant threw his hands up. “Yes, you! I’ve been in love with you for—who even knows how long? And everyone in the Troupe has been trying to get you to see it, but you just think I’m being friendly!”

There was a beat of silence.

Then, Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Brant watched as realization dawned across her face. He braced himself for—well, anything. A laugh. A rejection. A sudden change of topic.

Instead, Y/N just smiled. Soft, warm, and—was that fondness in her expression?

She reached out, gently taking his hand.

“…You could have just told me, you know,” she murmured.

Brant squeezed her hand, grinning despite himself. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Outside, the rain began to clear, the sky opening up to reveal the first hints of sunlight.

And back at the hideout, the Troupe of Fools waited eagerly—completely unaware that their plan had finally worked.

As the rain finally subsided, the world around them seemed fresh and new. The earthy scent of wet stone and damp leaves filled the air, and little puddles reflected the brightening sky. Brant and Y/N strolled side by side, their steps unhurried as they made their way back to the Troupe’s hideout.

Brant, for his part, looked like the smuggest man alive. His grin was so big it was almost comical, stretching across his face like he’d just won the grandest prize imaginable.

Y/N stole a glance at him and arched an eyebrow. “You’re looking awfully pleased with yourself.”

Brant sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if deeply moved. “Can you blame me? The rain has passed, the world is aglow, and most importantly—” He turned to her, smirking. “—you’ve finally seen the light.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “You make it sound like I was ignoring you on purpose.”

Brant let out a laugh, tilting his head in exaggerated thought. “Well, let’s see—weeks of grand gestures, poetic monologues about the beauty of true connection, at least four occasions where I gazed longingly at you across a firelit stage… and you thought I was just being friendly.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Brant bumped his shoulder against hers, voice teasing but warm. “Don’t worry, darling, I do love a good slow burn romance.”

Y/N huffed, but a smile tugged at her lips. “I still can’t believe the crew set us up like that.”

Brant chuckled. “Oh, I can believe it. They’ve been on the brink of staging a full intervention.”

Y/N tilted her head in thought. “Should we tell them their plan worked?”

Brant's grin turned positively mischievous. “Oh, absolutely not. Let’s let them stew in their failure just a little longer.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You really are terrible.”

Brant threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in playfully. “And yet, you adore me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t move away.

By the time they reached the hideout, the Troupe of Fools was already assembled, looking very much like they hadn’t been impatiently waiting for them.

Andreas was the first to speak. “Finally! Took you two long enough!”

Dionysia, perched on a crate with her arms crossed, raised an eyebrow. “So? How’d the mission go?”

Brant, still sporting that infuriating grin, spread his arms in a dramatic flourish. “Ah, what a tale it was! A journey of unexpected peril, a fateful twist, a life-changing revelation…”

The crew leaned in.

Pero narrowed his eyes. “...Did you two actually talk about it?”

Y/N, playing along, blinked innocently. “Talk about what?”

The collective groan that followed was nothing short of legendary.

“Oh, come on!” Barton threw his hands up in frustration. “This was supposed to be foolproof!”

Mosi pointed accusingly. “We engineered that whole scenario for you two to finally figure it out!”

Riel dragged a hand down his face. “Please, for the love of all things theatrical, tell me we don’t have to try again.”

Brant hummed thoughtfully, as if considering it. “Hmm… well, I suppose we could use another rainy stroll—”

Roccia, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke. “...You’re messing with us.”

Brant shot her a wink. “Took you long enough.”

The silence that followed was brief before the Troupe erupted into loud protests.

“You insufferable showman!” Dionysia groaned, smacking a hand to her forehead.

Andreas looked between Brant and Y/N before sighing dramatically. “So what, you are together now?”

Brant shot Y/N a sidelong glance, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “Well, that depends… Y/N, dearest, would you say we’re officially in a sweeping, passionate romance?”

Y/N smirked. “I’d say we’re getting there.”

The Troupe groaned again, but this time, it was laced with relieved laughter.

Barton muttered, “Unbelievable,” before elbowing Riel. “Pay up. I said it’d take them until after the mission. You said another two weeks.”

Riel, looking deeply betrayed, grumbled as he handed over a pouch of coins.

Brant chuckled, turning back to his crew with a flourish. “Well, my dear friends, I must say—your efforts were commendable. But I do believe Y/N and I have stolen the show.”

Y/N nudged him. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Brant smirked, pressing a hand to his chest. “I always enjoy a grand finale.”

And despite all their complaints, the crew couldn’t help but smile—because finally, finally, their star performer and his oblivious love had found their rhythm.

Even if they were still insufferable about it.

_______________________________________

There are barely any Brant fics 😔

If u want any scenarios with Brant and the reader, you can send me a request ♡

#brant wuthering waves #wuwa brant #brant wuwa #brant x reader #brant #wuwa art #wuthering waves #wuthering waves x reader #x y/n #x you #x reader #oc x character #oblivious #oblivious reader #romance #romantic #confession

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threepandas · 9 months ago

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Bad End: Poisoned Cups

I hadn't adjusted well, at first. I don't think anyone could have. Being an elf sound cool, on paper. The better eye sight, the incredible hearing, the stamina. All sorts of perks right? But what they don't tell you, is that when your soul is human? When you get isekai'd by some divine oversight or fucker with a truck?

It doesn't adapt that well, to a new body. Your soul INSISTS you should still be human, with all the trappings, and throws a FIT, when you just.... aren't. So you end up with migraines. Eyes that swim in and out of focus. Wheezing, struggling, breathe. A body at war with itself.

The world was so loud. Too loud. I could hear EVERYTHING and it HURT. Couldn't breathe and THAT hurt. Was nauseated all the time, from my eyes refusing to focus properly. That too, hurt. All of it, pain. Just? Pain. Day after day, pain pain pain.

My poor parents were helpless. The doctors struggled.

But the King? HE could save me.

And he did.

He was younger then. Just barely into his rule. His Father having just stepped down. My parents, desperate, brought me before him. Waited in line for days. They didn't even know if he COULD do anything, were grimly prepared for him to say that sadly, nothing COULD be done. But? Instead? He looked me over, called for several old texts, looked again, then called upon the strength of the Throne.

My parents apparently started weeping the second I stopped.

All I remember is the pain going away. Being exhausted. A REALLY pretty elf man in a crown. Things getting... better, after that.

I was told that story often, as a child. It utterly transformed our household. From merely loyal citizens, to devote Loyalists. Speaking ill of the King in THIS house? Would now get you HURT. My parents had been convinced they were going to LOSE me. The King as far as they were concerned, saved my LIFE.

Which is why I didn't put anything together. Seeing as we were an "all King all the time" Sort of house. We had one(1) team and we were sticking to it. Permanently. His son? Eeeeh, maybe. We'd figure that out later. We didn't care to know. And I was too busy with school work to CHECK.

Which? Meant I didn't NOTICE? He looked? More and more... Otome Capture Target as time went on. Specifically, he looked kinda crown prince from "Dance of the Secret Forest! A True Love For Me?!" sort of Shaped. Which... gee, what ARE the odds? Especially given that so many OTHER things are named suspiciously similar or exactly the same to that game?

.........yeeeeeah. I decided not to take chances.

I looked that shit UP.

And wouldn't you know it? Protagonist-chan? Not there yet. But she SURE COULD BE! All the legends were EXACTLY what they should be. Forests and locations the same! PEOPLE the same! Oh HELL no. Good to know where NOT to be, I guess.

Not my circus, NOT my Otome Drama Monkeys.

I? Would be working for the KING. My family owed him a debt.

And when I graduated? I applied. Top of my class. I studied my ASS off. Could have gone anywhere. But I was aiming for the TOP. A debt to be repayed and frankly? Excellent job security on top of it! So filling busy work in dusty ass backrooms it was. Gotta start from the bottom, after all.

I exhausted them. Was honestly barely trying too at that point. They should see me TRYING to put my nose to the grindstone. Burn the midnight oil! Ha! HA, I say! Long elven lifespans slow you all down! I? Used to live in a capitalist hellscape! This is NOTHING.

I'm not even multi-tasking. It's not even LUNCH YET.

Did I get promoted? Yes. Do I worry my coworkers? Deeply! But shit needs doing and we don't have all day! There is a nation to run! Have some tea. Eat a turnover. Now~! Where are my fuckin documents~☆?

I get promoted again.

Then again.

Aaaaand again.

I'm pretty sure it's cause I scare people. Am FAST. Efficient. Willing to hunt my coworkers for SPORT, like a god damned bloodhound, if it means we get that one extra tax document that makes or breaks us. I have (and will again if necessary) climbed through people's fucking WALLS. Cause, honestly? If they wanted to stop me?

They should have warded the gods damned vents.

Fuckin casuals. Get on my level.

So, now? I am the baby. King's inner circle. And EVERYONE? Is damn near twice my age! And, granted, yes. It IS hilarious I still scare like half the people working under me... but come ON! You are elite government officials! Do BETTER! (Geez. At least my PARENTS couldn't be prouder.)

But... (and God damn it, why is there ALWAYS a "but"?) here's the thing. It? Took me a WHILE to get where I am now. Long enough, in fact, for our... Problem, to arrive. A Problem which is GOING to cast his Majesty's kingdom into chaos and turmoil, in fighting and divides. Religious upheaval. A PROBLEM, which? In the name of luuuuuv~?

Is going to get NEIGHBORING COUNTRIES involved.

And WHO do you think is going to have to deal with that? WHO will have to prevent all out WAR? Religious schisms? Ward off assassins in the night? Certainly not Mr. "But Daddy, I love her!". Oh no, HE gets to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his father's suffering! Make more trouble! (Fucker.)

But, hey! Maybe I should throw in with his SECOND son, right? The supporting character? He seems vastly more reasonable and emotionally more balanced doesn't he? Well educated, cautious, why, thoughtful even! Ha ha... yeah... he DOES seem that way, doesn't he?

SEEMS.

He Is Not. Little fucker is a SPECIAL flavor of batshit. Completely "wake to find him standing over you, in your LOCKED BEDROOM, asking if you want to see his new favorite knife" nutty puffs. Not sure which side of the family it comes from, to be honest. Disturbingly good at getting past my warding.

Or at least he WAS, until I got the King involved. Ha! Royal wards! You can't touch me! I sleep like a BABY now! The only people who can enter my rooms now? Are literally JUST me and the KING HIMSELF! How safe is that~‽

But for real... poor his Majesty, you know? It's not like he didn't TRY to be a good father. Take time he couldn't afford out of each day, to spend time with his sons. Insist on eating meals together so he could ask them about their interests, how each day had gone. Involved them where he safely could.

He's a somber man. A dignified one. But let NO ONE say, he is not a LOVING one.

And HOW do his children fucking reward him? Middle school love dramatics and MURDER ATTEMPTS IN THE NIGHT! Because, YES, I have found the disturbing murder board that the second prince has in his "secret" room. Right along his equally disturbing stalker board of ME.

I, obviously, told the King.

He did not look pleased.

Don't know if my new reality has, like, intensive therapy programs or something? But I hope for ALL our sakes, that the second Prince is at the winter palace getting HELP, instead of just? You know... plotting.

His Highness has a nasty tendency to plot, after all. But hey, his Majesty says not to worry about it? I choose to believe him. Concern myself with more immediate threats. Enjoy, no longer turning around to find some baby faced little creep with a hunter's stare, just... watching me. As I try to work. As I try to eat. Around corners, still as a statue, yet somehow a THREAT, in lonely and too empty corridors.

God fucking DAMN, his little "crush" was creepy!

If it weren't for his Majesty? I would have run and run FAR. But... but I? And you CAN NOT repeat this, okay? It's WILDLY inappropriate! A-And I SWEAR I'm never going to.. to ACT on it! I would NEVER. So...so PROMISE, okay?

....cause.... I may... MAY! Possibly! Just a LITTLE bit! Sorta, kinda, just a BIT? Have a TEENY? Little crush... on... his Majesty? Maybe???

YOU CAN'T TELL!

It's SO fucking inappropriate. Oh my GOD. I hate this so much!? Cause he's my BOSS! And old enough to be my DAD! I SHOULDN'T be so attracted to him, right?! Plus he's the KING! There's definitely a power imbalance there! How would that even WORK?! We would have no future! I don't know the first THING about how to BE royalty. And no one would accept me!

Not that I think I even have a CHANCE! Fuck no! I'm not THAT arrogant.

But, like? A girl can day dream. Fantasize, you know?

Which is why? Having his SON? Be a creepo stalker at me? Kinda the WORST. I've literally JUST discovered I'm into older men! Thanks! BEGONE, zygote! Also, your vibes are RANCID! No thanks! I hated that and am SO glad it's gone. Now? All I have to worry about? Is Protagonist-chan and the political SHIT SHOW she drags after her like trail of destruction.

Why is she involving foreign royalty? PLEASE stop involving foreign royalty! Dukes! Religious leaders! MILITARY LEADERS. Stop "Helen of Troy"-ing your ass through our nice, PEACEFUL, kingdom!!! What the ACTUAL FUCK!? This is NOT A THEME PARK.

I watch, vaguely horrified, as his Majesty finishes reading three (yes, count um! Fucking THREE!) different royal missives demanding three different women of legend, from three DIFFERENT legends, who coincidentally enough? Happen to ALL BE THE SAME PERSON. Fucking Protagonist-chan.

They were from long standing ALLIES.

We could not AFFORD to lose those.

And the FOURTH message? Oh, THAT? That, was from his SON! Mr. "But Daddy! I Love her!" HIMSELF! He wants permission to marry the random woman of unknown province he found in the woods! Could be a foreign spy! Could be a mad woman. Who CARES right? They're SO in love~

Enough to START A WAR OVER IT.

I skip the tasting cups and instead? Bring his Majesty a bottle of the strongest star wine I can find. The sort that could damn near eat through rocks and vaporizes in air if you pour it out. Pain killers too, for what HAS to be a killer headache. Then I hesitate. You know what? Fuck it. I grab a cart. Make a care package.

Paper, ink, the STRONG tea, that special occasions tea (in case he needs a reason to remember his will to live), some snacks, a few shawls in case he decides to work late...

It's worth it, to see the way his stressed face relaxs when I return. Eyes softening, corner of his mouth curling up in that tiny, secret, little smile. We can get through this. We WILL get through this. I may not be able to stand by his side, but? I can support him. Help.

So long as HE sits in this office, burning himself down to keep this nation warm, so too, will I.

Tea or booze, your Majesty?

"A blend, I think. Unfortunately, I fear it is going to be a long night for us both." He replies. His voice smooth and low, effortlessly filling the room. A lifetime of public speaking, ingrained so very deep. "You should pour yourself a cup as well, my dear. Sleep will be a long time coming, we will need both the calm and the clarity."

I rolled my borrowed tea cart to the side and got to work. Strong tea and stronger star wine. Certainly a... flavor. Fairly certain such a thing should be illegal. Pretty sure our healers are going to be appalled. But, oh well. Needs, must. One for me, one for him.

He held out a hand. It was a sweeping gesture of his arm, a gentle turn of his wrist. I could never get used to his casual... elegance. The beauty of him. Like a living art work. A dancer. As though he were an actor, striking a pose, about to consider the soul of the simple tea cup. I handed it over, gently and with as much elegance as I could.

It still felt clumsy in comparison.

Yet he still smiled, just slightly. In that way I had learned to spot. Tension dripping away from his shoulders like thawing ice. Running in little rivers like melt waters, as he sat back in his chair, half turning it to face me. A brief moment to relax. Before work begins again.

"Ah... completely vile. Thank you, dear. It's disgusting." He said dryly, catching me off gaurd, and making me damn near snort into my cup. "If it did not work so well? I would never consume this swill again. What a perfect waste of tea and wine. We should invite Yevault."

I laugh. A snirking, snorting, choked little thing into my cup. God, but I've been TRYING to laugh more elegantly. Hell, I've even practiced. But when he catches me off gaurd? I swear to God, I cackle and pop. Like some sort of deranged witch pig. Ow, my sinuses.

"Oh but that's right, Yevault is a healer, on the occasions he takes time from being an unbearable snob. He might actually make us rest, dear. Then where would we be?" His Majesty muses, taking another sip before grimacing at the taste.

I go to respond. Probably some quip about "preferably in bed" or "asleep". Only... only to find my tounge sluggish. My exhaustion mounting, not slipping away. The world has begun to sway. Just a little at first, then notable. My mouth... fuzzy? Prickly. W...what?

His Majesty has begun to frown. Delicately setting down his cup... cup? Something about... a cup... I have taken too long to respond. He rises. Strides in a few, urgent, steps over to where I lean. Against the edge of my assistants desk. Swaying~ swaying~ w-why is the ground... my tounge feels to big. Think? I've begone to drool?

Warm, big hands cup my face. Was slipping forward, to the side. Gonna fall? Not anymore. Up. Hi! Is the king. Hi King. I... I don't feel so good...

His eyes have gone focused and cold. Pretty. Crown begins to glow. Leaves. Gold and gold, a halo of light. From within and beyond him. Power of the throne. Oh... oh I was here before, wasn't I? My bones remember. Like the roots to his great tree, power seeping deeper and deeper into my body, finding imperfections to consume. So... so much LIGHT.

I can not look away.

"Poison, was it? How terribly banal. Do they think me so simple to kill?" There is scorn in his voice. Utter distain. But deep beneath, like the hidden embers of a forest fire, there is rage. "How dare they drag you into this. Bad enough they throw a FIT over some trouble making tart, now they get the innocent involved? What if I had not been paying attention? Or you had taken that tea where I could not see it? Unacceptable."

Like spreading branches, like antlers, the light spread. The hands on my face gentle even as his Majesty's face might as well have been carved from stone. I tried to protest, swallowing thinking past the still rolling nausea. It was my fault! The tasting cups exsist for a REASON. They're supposed to test for things like this. I got too comfortable.

"No." The word slammed down as about an absolute as any sentence CAN. A declaration from on high. The commandment of a king. "It takes far more then simple poisons or common blades to kill me. The power that flows through the Throne insures it. You do not have that luxury. You could have DIED."

"....might still yet."

The last bit, almost a confession, pressed to my brow as he leaned down to press his lips to my forhead. His grip tighter, as though to stop his hands from shaking. My joints were starting to hurt, like I had a nasty cold, and I was already starting to feel feverish. I was starting to drip sweat. Shit.

I tried to stay calm. But... but I was scared. What do I do? Your Majesty! What do I DO?!

"We are going back to my quarters. Work can be brought to me. You need to lay down." He decided after a long moment of deliberation. Something had shifted in his eyes. I couldn't make heads or tails of it. Clung to the only trustworthy source of comfort I knew, in the chaos of this moment. "I'm going to take care of you. I have you, dear. Just trust me, darling. I will fix this. I swear it. You don't have to worry about a thing. Just put all of your trust in me, all right?

"Just come with me, dear. Everything will be all right."

"You can trust me."

#threepandas #yandere #yandere x reader #yanblr #reader insert #yanderecore #yandere otome isekai #yandere otome #royal yandere #oblivious reader #yandere sees his chance and takes it #he had a ten year plan #but this works too #tw poison #bad end poisoned cups #bad end poisoned cups au

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beaucate · 5 months ago

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part two / master list.

𐙚⋆˙˚◞ OBLIVIOUS!READER who always watched clark from a distance, a frown visible on the rosy plush of her lips as his eyes strayed away from her own. he never watched her, and how could he when lana lang was always beside her, capturing the farmer boy’s attention with ease.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who can’t see the way clark’s drift towards the side of her face when she isn’t paying attention. his breathing rapid, and palms clenching his locker so it bent under the tips of his fingers.

OBLIVIOUS!READER not noticing the glances mr. and mrs. kent would share whenever she came over, watching as their son’s eyes widened and his words spluttered as she asked for his mother’s apple pie recipe.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who doesn’t catch the way clark’s lips part ever so slightly when she laughs on the outside benches of school. the sound seeming to unravel him entirely, zoning out when the laces of her skirt lift slightly above her thighs. she assumes he’s just zoning out, daydreaming about the green eyed brunette who sat along her — but in truth, his thoughts are consumed by her, and the way the sun light dances in her eyes.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who brushes off the way clark insists on carrying her books, his hand brushing hers as he does, leaving her cheeks burning red and heart pounding louder than she’d like. she convinces herself it’s just because he’s a gentleman, a farm boy raised by the kindest of people in town; not realising how much it takes for him to steady his superhuman heartbeat every time her lashes flutter his way.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who never questions why clark’s excuses to spend time together are, if anything, endless — offering her rides to school, and staying late to help her study for exams.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who doesn’t realise she’s the reason clark’s nights are sleepless, watching her home from afar in the comfort of his barn, his mind replaying every rise of her chest and shudder from the cold. he swears her perfume lingers in the air longer than it should.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who catches clark watching her once —just once — and dismisses it, thinking he must be distracted by something behind her. meanwhile, clark’s heart is lodged in the base of his throat, and he’s trying not to panic at the idea of her realising his gaze was drawn to her pouty mouth.

OBLIVIOUS!READER who can’t explain why mrs. kent always smiles teasingly at her when she visits the farm, or why mr. kent’s chuckle feels a little too amused every time his son fumbles his words around her. she assumes they might be picking on her — though theyre too nice; but what could possibly be the reason?

OBLIVIOUS!READER who doesn’t realize clark’s awkward stammers and shy smiles aren’t just his usual charm — they’re reserved for her. and when his hand accidentally brushes hers and she pulls away, muttering an apology, clark wonders if she’ll ever see just how much his mind has memorised the lines etched on her palms.

❀˚ dividers by @/ fairytopea

#๑°⋆｡ ୨୧ ⌗ clark kent #๑°⋆｡ oblivious!reader #clark kent drabble #clark kent x reader #clark kent x fem reader #clark kent imagine #superman x reader #smallville clark kent x reader #smallville x reader #tom welling #clark kent x you #oblivious reader #clark kent fluff

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aventurineswife · 4 months ago

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may I request soft yandere Aventurine x oblivious reader?

Reader nice to everyone including Aventurine, which they are very close. Reader never understood Aventurine kind gesture that he has been gifting to reader but they accept it without understanding anything behind it.

I love your writing 🫶 make sure to stay hydrated!

Unseen Devotion

Summary: You’ve always been kind to everyone, including Aventurine. His extravagant gifts and lingering gazes never struck you as anything more than friendly gestures. But to Aventurine, your uncalculated kindness is a rare treasure—a gamble he refuses to lose, no matter what it takes. As he balances his carefully maintained charm and the possessive emotions bubbling beneath, you remain blissfully unaware of the depth of his devotion and the lengths he’ll go to keep you by his side.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Soft Yandere!Aventurine, Oblivious!Reader, Fluff with Dark Undertones, Slow Burn, Possessive Behavior, Emotional Tension, Unrequited (for now?).

Warnings: Subtle manipulation and possessive tendencies, Themes of obsession hidden behind a facade of charm, Reader is oblivious to the deeper intentions behind Aventurine’s actions, Mild jealousy and internal conflict.

You always had a way of making everyone feel seen, even someone like Aventurine. Despite his reputation for manipulation and his air of untouchable charm, you treated him with the same warm kindness you offered to everyone. It wasn’t just an act of naivety—it was genuine. You listened to him, laughed at his jokes, and smiled at him in a way that softened the edges of his fractured soul.

For Aventurine, who spent a lifetime mastering the art of deception and power, you were a perplexing enigma. Your kindness wasn’t calculated. Your smiles weren’t strategic. And that scared him more than he would admit.

“Another gift, Aventurine?” you asked one afternoon, staring at the ornately wrapped box he placed in your hands. It was the fifth gift this month—an elegant bracelet inlaid with gemstones, each one catching the light like a kaleidoscope.

Aventurine smiled, his eyes glinting. “You make it sound as though I’ve spoiled you. Can I not express my appreciation for someone so... important?”

You laughed softly, brushing off his intense gaze like it was nothing. “You’re too kind. I’m not used to being treated so lavishly.”

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You weren’t used to it. His extravagant gifts—bracelets, rare books, delicate silks—they didn’t seem to register to you as anything more than tokens of friendship.

It was maddening.

Aventurine watched you from across the room during a private IPC gala, his fingers idly adjusting the choker around his neck. His usual air of confidence was shadowed by a subtle tension. He saw how you smiled at the others, chatting warmly with executives and aides alike.

Why did you have to share that light with everyone?

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to be kind. He adored your warmth, your unyielding goodness. But watching you offer it so freely made his chest tighten with something dangerously close to jealousy.

And yet, when you approached him, your smile aimed solely at him, he felt his composure return.

“Aventurine,” you said brightly, holding up the bracelet he’d given you earlier. “I wore it tonight. It’s beautiful.”

He smirked, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “It suits you. Though I must say, it pales in comparison to your radiance.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Flattery won’t get you out of dancing with me.”

His smile froze for a fraction of a second before he offered you his hand. “How could I refuse such a tempting offer?”

As the evening progressed, you remained oblivious to the intensity of his gaze, the way his hand lingered on your back, his words carefully chosen to keep you by his side. Aventurine thrived in control, but with you, it felt like every moment was a gamble.

He couldn’t lose. Not you.

Later that night, you found yourself alone on one of the balconies, the cool breeze brushing against your skin. Aventurine appeared beside you, his overcoat draped elegantly over his shoulders.

“It’s a bit cold for you out here,” he remarked, pulling the coat off and settling it over your shoulders without waiting for permission.

You blinked at him, momentarily startled. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted, his voice softer than usual. “I always will.”

You gave him a grateful smile, utterly oblivious to the way his words carried a deeper weight.

“Aventurine, I don’t know how to thank you for everything. You’ve been so kind to me... too kind, really. I don’t deserve—”

“Stop.” His voice was sharp, but his expression remained composed. He stepped closer, his eyes holding yours with a rare intensity.

“Don’t you dare say you don’t deserve kindness. Not after everything you’ve given me without even realizing it.”

You blinked, taken aback. “I... I’m not sure what you mean.”

He chuckled softly, though there was no humor in it. “Of course you don’t. You never see it, do you? How much you matter. How much I—” He stopped himself, exhaling through his nose.

He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Never mind. Just... promise me you’ll keep wearing the bracelet.”

You nodded, confused but touched by the raw emotion in his voice. “I promise.”

That night, Aventurine stayed by your side until you returned to your quarters, ensuring you were safe and comfortable before leaving. As he walked away, his usual smile faltered.

You didn’t see it. You never saw it.

But that was fine. For now, he was content to wait. Because no matter how long it took, you were a gamble he refused to lose.

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achilles-rage · 9 months ago

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suddenly have an idea about reader meeting buck at a bar and being SO clueless about him clearly flirting with her

like he’s like “let me buy you a drink” and she’s like “…but i already have a drink??”

“so, what are you doing next weekend?” “well, i have saturday off so i think i’m gonna catch up on my favourite show😁” and he’s like ??? “what about later that night? any dinner plans?” and she’d like “idk yet, haven’t planned that far ahead<3”

and he’s just sitting there like …right…you stupid beautiful girl…

#i have so many requests to focus on though😔#will be staying in the endless queue of drafts with half assed plot points #911 abc #evan buckley #evan buckley x plus size reader #evan buckley x plus size!reader #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley drabble #oblivious reader

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coffee-and-tea-time · 1 year ago

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Lovesick! Doctor x Reader

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ You need a proper care, Dear ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Hi, Coffee speaking! We both got a cold and I wanted to indulge a bit, I also got a little obsession with Lovesick! Wally ngl but I choose to start with the doctor expect me to write for a Lovesick! Patient soon

Hi, Tea speaking! We actually were also saying nonsense about humanized Pepsi (my favorite soda) and 7UP (Coffee's favorite) so yeah (why does my twin drool over a muppet?)

btw, this isn't edited due to Tea still being really sick, so do expect weird sentence structure/words or misspells, sorry in advance, just one twin absorbs all the intelligence in the womb and that was certainly not me/j

tw: this dude shouldn't be a doctor, yandere behavior, drugging, manipulation, kinda paranoia? , reader doesn't know anything is happening, written in you/yours (this is just fiction, I don't really know about medications I just research a bit to write this)

It was only a cold, you just need to go to the doctor to get the certificate and maybe some paracetamol and then leave, easy, isn't it?

As you walk in the hallways of the hospital you turn right, having a hard time trying to find yourself in this big hospital, but it seems like you were right, as you bump into a doctor, your doctor.

"dear? What are you doing here? Here is no place to wander off!"

The panic in his voice is easily noticeable, as if you walk into a horror movie and choose to separate from the group without telling anyone.

“I’m sorry doctor, I just got a little disoriented here and there and ended up here..”

You don’t really get why he reacted like that, it's a hospital anyway, the worst thing that could happen is that you enter into an operating room but there is always a sign on them… I think?

“huh, I see Anyways, don’t worry, it's just that there is no place to wander around, let me guide you towards the other floor again. I will take you in right away, is that cold of yours keep bothering?”

“Yeh, it’s seems like everyday it’s getting worse, I don’t think I could be outside of my house too much without getting a bit dizzy”

You started talking about your recent problems because of your stupid cold that doesn't seem to faze away, the path to his consultory felt shorter than you could remember but well, guess it’s normal that happens when you're focused on talking, isn't it? You choose to just blame your mind and take a seat in the neat room as the doctor talks.

“Seems like the symptoms are getting worse… too much slowly”

“I’m sorry doctor, what did you say? I didn’t really catch the last part”

You say rather chill than you should, the first part was about your cold being worse, isn't it? Well, that’s true, kinda makes you wonder if it really is a cold but not wanting to sound like a hypochondriac, plus, the doctor is peacefully researching something in one of his drawers although you can't really see his face since his back is turned to you.

“Oh, I was just commenting how you are having a really rough time, I was thinking about giving you a different medication before it gets even worse. I would rather if you sit for a little, like 15 to 20 minutes before leaving after taking it, I’m really worried about you, you look lost in thought, it’s doesn't really appear like you are here with me right now…”

Well, what he says is right, your mind seems all over the place these days, good for you to have such an attentive doctor. He hands you a pill and a glass of water.

“This is Benadryl, it's just an allergy medicine, but can give some sleepiness. I ask you to sit and wait because of that, isn’t a real problem feeling sleepy but I want to make sure it doesn’t trigger your dizziness. I change the medication because I think you can have more of an allergy than a cold due to your symptoms that are also not fading away and even getting stronger, you see, it’s normal to find allergies or develop them as you grow..."

As he keeps explaining complex things, you just wonder what to blame if it happens to be the cause of an allergy as you take the pill with the help of the water. You two keep talking peacefully, as you wait for the time to pass, it seems like the doctor was right in seeing it coming that you were gonna get kinda sleepy. Does this doctor not have any other appointment or something?

“Well, and that's about it, any questions?”

You started to feel more tired, your head felt heavy, but well, the doctor warned you about it, so you try to ignore it and wait for it to just pass.

“To be honest, yes, but this is more out of personal curiosity, what was the floor where I was earlier before you found me? It was really empty for a hospital…”

… Are you moving or are things in the room suddenly alive? You get a little surprised and try to stand up to check your own condition without thinking about it though. You feel like you lost your balance, as if all around you is spinning, the doctor is fast to come beside you, ready to grab you if you happen to fall.

“Don’t worry about it, you couldn't see any people because it's a floor for rather special inpatients we deal with. Focus on you now, what’s your name? How many fingers am I holding up?”

You try to fight to keep yourself awake, yet before you could answer his questions, your vision went dark and you finally lost consciousness.

". . ."

He holds you so tenderly, avoiding your unconscious head to get hit and end up with a contusion or something like that.

“Rohypnol is really quick to act, huh? Don’t worry Dear, I will make sure you won’t need to deal with stressful stuff from today on, that would get you here in the end anyways, I’m just avoiding you some pain…”

He gently kisses your forehead before notifying through the phone in the room that someone fainted and will require admission to the hospital.

sorry for any misspellings or weird sentence structure ❣

images from pinterest

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uwuyangeppie · 11 months ago

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gepard landau, captain of the silvermane guards, kidnaps you.

and you… are fine with it?

he goes on a spiel about how this is all to protect you, that this is a necessary measure and the world is very dangerous. he gets down on one knee and holds your hand and tells you: “this is for us.”

and you believe him. you don’t really understand what he meant by that last sentence, but you believe that he really does have your best interests at heart. why wouldn’t he? he’s such a good man! an example for all! and it makes you feel pretty special, knowing that he’s going to all this effort for you.

you make it clear that you intend on listening to him completely, and he relents. off come your binds, you’re given access to the rest of the house, your life is good.

and then he leans in for a kiss.

you jump. “what was that for?”

he looks at you strangely. “i love you. that’s why we’re here together, forever and ever.”

he presses another kiss to your forehead as you stand there, unbelievingly. he kidnapped you out of love?

does that mean you can’t tell him you’re in love with someone else?

#oblivious reader #except ur actually just dumb #corruption happening right in front of you?#reader: i am blind <3 #btw the someone else is serval #or sampo?#me personally it would be welt or leonard #gepard landau x reader #gepard x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #yandere gepard #yandere gepard x reader

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a-hermit-pining · 4 months ago

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Challenge of Gods

AN: Accidently wrote this for the ship event :)

Pairing: Rafayel x gn reader

Genre: fluff

You sit in front of the enclosure, watching as Medea inches closer to the new Lego ship you carefully placed near her coconut cave.

Almost there. You fidget with your fingers as the crab's claws click against the glass. "You like it, girl?" A smile tugs at your lips as she admires the fruit of your labor.

That is, until a cushion smacks the back of your head.

You whip around to find Rafayel standing behind you, arms crossed, glaring at the enclosure like it personally offended him.

"You have me," he says, tone dripping with disdain. "Why must you entertain common fish like that?"

He scoffs, clearly wounded that the Lego ship wasn’t presented to him first. After all, he was the superior sea creature. Obviously.

You blink at him, equal parts dumbfounded and offended on Medea’s behalf. "She’s not a fish."

Rafayel’s smirk deepens. He got you. Hook, line, and sinker.

"She is a crustacean. There's a difference," you clarify, oblivious to Rafayel’s triumph. "She’s more closely related to arachnids and insects. She's more like shrimp, lobsters—" You trail off, brow furrowing, genuinely hurt by your partner's ignorance of Medea’s biology.

"Lives in water, thus a fish," Rafayel replies with a shrug, grinning as he watches you march toward the nearest encyclopedia to prove him wrong.

He loved this about you. How easily you trusted him, how quickly you engaged in these debates without seeing the game he played.

That only made him want to guard you more. To keep you safe from anything, or anyone, who might take advantage of that trust.

Like certain clawed creatures who always seemed tempted to click at your fingers. His gaze darkens as he glares at Medea.

But the crab stares right back, unbothered.

Undeterred by the presence of a sea god, Medea was no mere ocean-dweller. She was your crab. And she had been here before the mermaid ever was.

With a decisive click of her claw against the Lego ship, she silently declared her challenge.

Rafayel narrowed his eyes. The battle lines had been drawn.

Days later, the Lego ship was proudly displayed in Rafayel's studio.

#love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace #oblivious reader #fluff #crack fic #drabble

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threepandas · 11 months ago

Text

Bad End: For Us

My sister is the only one who actually knows me. Who looks at me and... and actually SEES me, for who I am. It's because she suffers too, I think. Is beautiful. In that way that drives men too distraction. Poets too the page, artists too a medium. They look at her like she is art, magnificence and beauty given form.

Not a person.

Living, breathing, with thoughts and feelings of her own.

She is... is just BEAUTY to them. Delicate features and graceful limbs. Refined and splendid. A lovely voice reducing all her brilliant thoughts to mere sound. Who cares? How clever and educated, how wise or dignified, she may be? She is decoration. A pretty thing to look at. A prize to be held and won.

And... and I am a cute little pet.

Eternally the toddler, to be pampered and dressed in bows. Girlish things, no matter how old I grow. Handled instead of spoken too. Because somehow I am a child. Fuckable, yet... a child. Cute, innocent, naive. Not because I AM, but because they SAY so. Because it matches their fantasy of me.

I fear what will happen if I dare break that fantasy, with how much they control my life.

My Sister, alone, is the one who SEES me.

And people try to convince me she is... what? Jealous? Bitter? Because I am somehow "stealing" the lecherous eyes of her unfaithful man? I don't want them. I don't want ANY of them. Reborn, somehow, as a Protagonist in some game amongst countless, I can predict the plot points as they come. Read the troupes.

Bah. I am no spunky little bright eyed thing.

As I lay, draped over my sister's splendid skirts, in her private writing room, she quietly sips her tea and writes return missives. Strokes my hair as I hide, curled up like a child against her legs. If the ridiculous outfit I was shoved in would allow it? I would cram myself under her desk. Hide there instead.

As it is? I sit like some sulking maiden, an exhausted pet, seeking comfort in the only refuge I HAVE.

They will not leave me ALONE.

The Knight. Some brash, meat headed, "I'll take care of you" type, crashing into every quiet moment I try to have. Loud and presumptuous. Disdainful of my academic interests.

The Playboy. All too forward "romantic" gestures and ignoring obvious discomfort. More wrapped up in HIS feelings then considering, for even a moment, my own. Selfish and dramatic.

The Duke. Cliché and terrible. "Kind" to no one but me. Endless expensive gifts, pressuring grand displays, and eyes that linger possessively. Violence at the drop of a hat.

But oh, let us not forget the ASSASSIN! Yes, the LEADER of the ASSASSIN'S Guild! That somehow, someway, decided I was a prize worth possessing. A cutesy little "interesting" doll. That? Gods only knows, what will happen when he grows bored.

Lingering and haunting me. Crawling through windows. Standing too close, to touch my hair and drop cryptic bits of information that always hint at terrible things. Having to watch my words so SO carefully. Lest someone end up DEAD.

And let's not forget the WORST offender! The most clingy of them ALL!

My sister's FIANCÉ.

The Crown PRINCE! Yes, not some average noble, but a ROYAL!! And the man can't CONTROL himself! But does anyone else care? Noooooo! It's ROMANTIC. True loooove~! Aren't we CUTE together? Surely my Sister, his FIANCÉE, is just JEALOUS. How VILE. Disgusting, they scoff!

I should start throwing chairs.

This house is a nightmare.

I curl closer to my sister. Releasing her skirts to slip an arm around her waist. Hugging her, pressing my face close. She puts her cup down with a soft clink. A second hand joining the first to stroke my head. Cup my cheeks.

"My Dearest, you can not hide against my skirts indefinitely. As much as I would love to let you." She says, voice soft and cool like swirling mist, tilting my face up so she can look me in the eyes. "You DO need to eat eventually, as do I. Unfortunately, I can not keep you here forever. Come, help me plan the wedding. We can look at cake styles."

I'd rather be planning a funeral.

"Not until I get a son out of him, I'm afraid."

Wut.

I blink, not sure I heard that right. Look up at my softly smile sister. No. No, I probably didn't. Wishful thinking maybe? Or I've just been around Stabby too much. I scramble to my feet. Fighting my own girlish abomination of a skirt. I hate it. It's cutesy to the point of mocking. I'm in my TWENTIES for God's sake! Not EARLY twenties either!

Why do I have a BOW ON MY ASS?!

Because I am the Protagonist. Baby faced and Pwecious~☆. Fucking INFANTALIZED. I could BITE.

I sigh, take the arm my sister offers me, and tuck myself into her side. Rest my head upon her shoulder. It's a little uncomfortable, with all the jewelry she must wear. But damn it! I want my cuddles!

I bask, as we walk, in the comfort it brings.

She's strong and graceful. Smells like a delicate spring morning, all rare flowers and new growth. A hint of expensive spice. I LOVE being the little sibling. When it's HER that's treating me so. Because she makes it precious. Comfortable. Like we could spend our lives, together like this. The best of friends.

Happy.

If only people would... you know... stop trying to FUCK me. I prefer my hobbies. For God's sake, I'm RICH and a second child. I HAVE basicly no responsibilities except "don't embarrass the family". Or that WOULD be the case? If our parents weren't so intent on... "pushy dating advice".

"Would you like some lovely news, Dearest?" Whispers my sister, as she sweeps us past some upset looking maids, towards the tea room. I nod. "I've made some wonderful headway with some... ambitious gentlemen, about your little cockroach problem. They are quite efficient. I'm likely to recommend them."

I stiffle a snort. Oh my god. My sister sent thugs after a few of the suitors? Holy shit! That's amazing! Is THAT why I haven't seen them around lately? They got scared?

We settle in our seats. Tea and snacks. The maid looks... nervous. Weird. My sister smiles kindly, somehow startling the poor thing, making her flinch. Oh dear. I try to smile reassuringly. No harm no foul, right? Yet the poor girl reacts like I've cast myself into a lion pit for her. Flees.

....I'm beginning to suspect someone is abusing our waitstaff.

It's probably that bastard lech of a fiance.

We need to keep him away from the maids. And me. Women in general honesty. If I had my say, he wouldn't be allowed near my SISTER either. But she insists, and- Oooh! This one's CUTE! Sis, Sis! LOOK at the little details on this one!

"Hmm? Oh that IS lovely! Do you like it? If so, we shall sample it at once. I want the day to be perfect for us, Dearest. You're my world after all. There's NOTHING I wouldn't give you. A shame though, that our parent's will likely be too sick to see me wed."

It really was. I had my differences with them, but... it was their DAUGHTER'S WEDDING you know? Whatever they had caught, during their endless string of parties, was ravaging their health. It seemed agonizing. Slow. Yet even in the midst of planning her WEDDING, all the gossip and backstabbing, my sister dutifully visited them. Brought them tea and kept them company.

I didn't know how she could bear it.

She was a better person then I, I guess.

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