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#straight ahead --- so many good memories :(((
menelaiad · 2 years
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agamemnon is gay in the musical. dont argue with me
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barcaatthemoon · 4 months
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brave || lucy bronze x reader ||
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lucy must put on a brave face when you go down during a game.
lucy could count on one hand the amount of times that she had ever been truly terrified. the fear that she felt whenever you went down was the greatest by far. it was almost like a sick joke. lucy didn't have time to be bitter about it, not when you obviously needed her to be there for you more. and so, lucy tried her best to swallow it all back to kneel next to you.
"hey bird, that was a nasty hit you took," lucy said. up close, it was so much worse. lucy had seen you go down, and momentarily had just frozen on the opposite side of the field. standing next to you, there was so much blood. that was nothing compared to the dazed look in your eyes.
"lucy, it hurts," you whined. lucy knew that you were about to start crying. she was certain the only reason you weren't yet were all of the younger players on the field. the one who had knocked into you was recently brought up from a youth team, and you didn't want to scar her.
"it's okay. i've got you. shh, just breathe for me," lucy instructed you. the medics came over and took you straight off of the field. lucy was subbed off as well, a decision that sarina made without second thought.
"keep a close eye on her for all of us," millie told your wife. lucy nodded and gave millie a quick hug as the woman went on for lucy. there hadn't been an official sub for lucy, but everybody knew that millie could handle it for a bit. there weren't that many minutes left in the game, and england managed to pull ahead early on.
"look at me bird." lucy gently grabbed onto your chin, forcing you to look up at her. "that's gonna leave a nasty cut, but i think i can get over it for a while."
"what a saint," you huffed. lucy smiled, glad that you could still joke with her. she knew that it was just an expression, but she was glad that the humor hadn't been knocked out of you. lucy could still remember whenever you had gotten a concussion back in college so bad that your career had almost ended. "are you also going to nurse me back to health?"
"of course i am. i'm not letting you out of my sight," lucy mumbled as she pulled you into a hug. lucy was incredibly gentle with you in a way that you knew meant she was terrified. "how are you feeling, really?"
"well, my head hurts like a bitch, but i am okay. i would be a bit better if you didn't look like you'd just seen a ghost. i got up lucy, i walked off of the field. it's not like last time," you told her. lucy swallowed back some tears. the memories of your injury still haunted her. it hadn't been all bad though. lucy had admitted her feelings for you that night at the hospital, even if she thought you were in a coma when you weren't. "you could have stayed and played on."
"nah, someone's got to give bright those pity minutes. she likes riling up the young ones when she's bored." lucy laughed a little, but you could still hear the tears behind it. lucy didn't let go of you until she was certain that she wouldn't just burst into tears. you laid back until the doctor came back to finish up your concussion tests.
you knew that you were concussed, it was just a question of how badly. your facial cut was superficial and didn't need stitches, which you were grateful for. lucy held your hand tightly as it was bandaged up before you went back to the locker room to wash up. the game had ended by the time you were finished, but the team was all seemingly waiting to see how you were. the fact that you hadn't been rushed off to the hospital was a good sign.
"you know, you just about gave bronzey here a heart attack," mary said as she slung her arm around your shoulders. she tried to pull you away from lucy, who did not loosen her grip on you one bit. "scared the rest of us pretty bad too."
"gotta keep you on your toes. as for lucy, she was very brave. kept a calm head with me through my tests." lucy blushed at your praise, but didn't argue.
"what's the verdict?" keira asked. you could see her, georgia, and leah practically shaking with anticipation.
"i'll be out for at least a month, maybe two. i am really sorry guys, i was hoping to see this through, but it's just the luck of the draw," you told them. almost immediately, you felt their bodies crash into yours. lucy was trapped in the hug as well, but you could tell from the way that her body sagged into it that she needed it.
"you can be our mascot. every time that we score, we'll do it for you," georgia promised. you ruffled the shorter woman's hair a bit before you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. the team seemed to be in complete agreement with dedicating the whole tournament to you, which you knew meant trouble for the other teams.
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personasintro · 1 year
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Mutual Help | #23
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𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.2k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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Sipping a cup of coffee, you savor the taste in your mouth before you swallow while a soft smile plays on your lips. No matter how many times you busy yourself, your mind keeps coming back to yesterday but most importantly, to Jungkook. Having sex with him yesterday felt different, so different that it scares you how much he affected you and your body during it. You felt so content and everything felt so much more intimate than ever. It was Jungkook's way of apology, another way which you welcomed with open arms. Overall, yesterday was amazing and just a simple thought of you two taking a shower together  makes you want to giggle.
Jungkook squirts a shower gel, the one he uses all the time, onto his palm before he starts rubbing your shoulders, washing you with tender and slow movements. Moving to your breasts, he cups them and gives them a proper squeeze that makes you giggle. 
"Don't you have enough?" you ask amusingly, still feeling him between your legs and the pressure his length left there. You're sensitive there and probably swollen as well. 
"Hm, I can't get enough of you." he murmurs, kissing you onto your neck as you find this moment so intimate and sweet. And maybe weird, because for some reason you feel like the two of you are crossing some boundaries. On the other hand, you're glad he doesn't just fuck you and goes straight to acting like none of that happened. 
"Liar," you snort, feeling him moving his hands down to your stomach as he starts washing it. When he's done, his hands hover over your lower stomach before his tattooed hand disappears between your legs. "Jungkook." you warn him, warm water hitting both of your bodies but mainly yours as you stand right beneath the shower head. 
"What? I'm washing you," he murmurs, starting to wash your heat as you gasp. "So swollen." he comments, causing you to blush and murmur his name in embarrassment. 
"Whose fault is that?" you murmur, hearing a low chuckle behind you. 
"Busted," he chuckles, circling your clit. "Too much?" he asks, a worry laced in his tone which makes you smile. 
"It feels good," you answer, tilting your head back against his chest. Your arms find their way behind you, wrapping around Jungkook's neck and gasping when you feel his soft length pressed against your ass. 
"Fuck," you moan, eyes rolling back when he enters you with his fingers. 
And all you can do is enjoy this before the food comes, but that's not on your mind at all despite your empty stomach. All you can focus is Jungkook's fingers and round two of pleasure and a fucking great orgasm ahead of you. 
"How's your boyfriend?"
Memories crash down at the sound of your colleague's monotonous voice that has a slight edge to it, which is recognized as teasing. You think.
"He's not my boyfriend," you roll your eyes, putting the cup down before you glance at Yoongi's amused eyes. "He's my best friend." you add, knowing it's pointless when you notice the quirk of his lips.
"You kiss all your friends?" he asks amusingly, but still remains a neutral facial expression that would probably make you laugh if he wasn't interrogating you.
Narrowing your eyes at him, you open your mouth; "He kissed me." you point out, causing him to snort as he shakes his head.
"From what I've seen, you enjoyed it..." he comments but before you can cuss him out, he adds; "So, you really are just friends?"
You almost want to joke about him being interested in your life. From what you've seen, he barely gets interested about anything and certainly not you, even though he's one of the easiest people to talk to here.
"Something like that." you murmur, reaching for your coffee that you'd like to finish before Junho barges into the break room and starts giving orders.
"Oh, so he's your fuck buddy?" he asks, causing you to choke on the coffee as you swallow it painfully before you start to cough. "You should've just said it." he shrugs innocently, walking away from you just like that but you notice the little smirk he tries to hide.
You'd yell at him, not wanting him to get away with this but you're not alone in a break room and the last thing you want is everyone to hear what you were about to say.
Your phone vibrates on the desk where you put it, causing you to unlock it and open a message.
Kook: what color is your underwear? ;))
Snorting, you start typing.
"I'm not doing this" 
Kook: :(( you're no fun 
"Aren't you working anyway?" 
Kook: I'm on my break, but I can always make some time for you ;) 
"I'm still not doing this" 
Kook: :(( disappointed but not surprised Kook: I'm gonna buy us some takeout on my way to pick you up, any requests? 
You smile, already excited about the food. Jungkook is taking you home today, but you still have to go to his place to get your groceries and the two of you agreed this morning to have dinner together before he takes you home.
"Surprise me :)"
Kook: I will ;)
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"Thanks for the food, it was delicious." you tell Jungkook, patting your lips with a napkin as he cleans up containers where the food had been.
"No problem," he signs out, washing his hands before he turns around and leans against the kitchen counter, eyes already set on you.
He has a weird smirk spreading all over his lips which makes you stare at him confusingly, wondering what's his intention.
"I've got something else for you." he muses, tongue poking his inner cheek as if he's nervous and excited to bring up this topic.
Who knows what's going on inside his head, and you don't have time to try finding out when you're confused and nervous. He got you something?
"What?" you ask curiously, head tilting to a side as he straightens himself and nods his head towards his bedroom.
"Come." Is all he says, already walking there and you've nothing else to do than just follow him and wondering what the hell is this all about.
You're not going to lie, you're curious especially when he reaches for a box that's sitting on his bed. You're definitely confused, you were supposed to have dinner and then he should've driven you home, but here he is. Handing you some kind of white box with nothing on it, not even a bow or something that boxes always have when they're given as a present.
"If something's gonna jump at me, I'm gonna kill you." you threaten, already scared of what's in there.
"Nothing's gonna jump at you," he chuckles, rolling his eyes at you. "Open it." he says, biting his lower lip in anticipation while you eye the box with wary eyes.
Sighing, there's nothing heavy or moving inside of it, so you decide to open it. Your curiosity gets the best of you and you open it, tossing the thin paper away to reveal Jungkook's present to you. Gasping, you almost drop the box when you're staring at one thing that you'd never expect to be there. You'd never expect Jungkook to get you something like that. In other situations, you'd probably die of laughter but all you can do is eye the pink vibrator with a mortified look. Mouth open, eyes slowly averting to Jungkook who seems to be enjoying your reaction. Arms crossed over his chest, he's biting his lip to prevent himself from grinning and all you can do is stutter over your words, before you find a courage to talk properly.
"What the hell? Why would you buy this?" you ask, eyes dropping back to the box.
You can't believe there's a fucking vibrator.
"Well, you've never talked about anything you'd like to try. So I wanted to make this more interesting for you and this looked like a great idea," he explains, watching you as you slowly sit up on the edge of his bed with a puzzled look.
That's true. You wanted him to fulfill your desires, although you're not sure if using vibrator is one of them. You've been so pleased with Jungkook, only him, that you've never thought about other options. Sure, you've tried spanking, throat fucking but that's about all.
Oh my god. Does he think you're boring in bed? Is he tired of you, so he bought you a freaking dildo?
"Please don't overthink this. I thought we could try it, but if you're not comfortable with this we don't have to do anything." he speaks up before you can voice your thoughts, even though you weren't planning on it. Not anytime soon anyway. You're so shocked that you can't even react or talk properly.
"We? You want us to try this?" you ask slowly, looking back at your best friend that gives you a short nod.
"You can try it alone, it's totally up to you."
"What? No! That's not what I meant... I thought you bought this because-- never mind." you shake your head, not wanting him to think that you're just overthinking prick.
"Because what? Come on, talk to me." he says, already walking up to you as he gets on his knees and gently places his hands over yours, trying to look into your eyes.
There's no reason in avoiding him, or his big doe eyes, so you look at him. "I thought... maybe you find me boring, so you bought this."
"What?" he lets out a chuckle, your brows pinching together. "You're not boring. You think that I think sex with you is boring?" he raises his brows, staring at you as if you just said the most stupid thing ever.
"Yeah?" you answer unsurely, lifting your brows. "Argh, I don't know. I certainly didn't think you bought it because you want us to try it." you exclaim, finding it easier to talk to him. Maybe it's his hands that are caressing your knees and the soft gaze he's giving you.
"That's if you want this," he reminds you, "You're helping me so much, and I want to do the same for you. I want you to enjoy this. Although, don't get me wrong, our sex is fucking amazing." He's quick to explain, eyes not budging as he's talking and you listen to him.
Our sex is fucking amazing. It sure is. And the thought that it's going to end soon makes you sad for some reason. Fuck, Y/N. It's just sex, you're going to find someone else. Not just for sex, but someone who's going to love you and you're going to love that person too.
"Is this something you want to try?" you ask him curiously, and you see him relax when he notices your interest and that you're no longer overthinking his present.
"If you want to," he answers diplomatically, which causes you to glare at him. You really want to know if he wants it as well.
The thought of him using this just makes you curious and kind of excited. It's something new. Your sex life used to be boring and you had only one partner in your life, Haechan. And you've never had the balls to buy something like this, not even when you wanted to pleasure yourself. Your fingers could do only so little, that you often ended up more frustrated with no orgasm.
"Fuck yeah, I wanna try this with you but not when we're not on the same page." he tells you, assuring you that you don't have to feel obligated to do this because he wants to.
Good thing is that he knows your personality and you in general, knowing that you wouldn't do something you don't want to. But his own personality has the need to emphasize that this is totally up to you. He doesn't want to pressure you into anything and meanwhile you've been enjoying your sex, just like he's been, he's been thinking about how to make this more memorable for you as well. He knows you're a real freak somewhere inside of you and that you're much more naughty than he thought. You manage to surprise him every time you two are intimate.
"Actually, I'm quite intrigued by this," you tell him, pursing your lips to hide a smile of embarrassment.
Of course, you know there's no reason for you to feel embarrassed because Jungkook always makes sure you're comfortable with everything, but you can't help it. You're still in shock that he bought something like this for you.
"When did you even buy this?"
He chuckles, taking your hand as he laces his fingers with your own. "I ordered it two days ago and it came today." he answers, watching you as you grab the vibrator with your free hand and examine the silicone object.
It's soft, it certainly doesn't feel like a real dick but it feels nice to touch. It looks pretty flexible as well. "Why pink?"
"Is that your question?" he snorts, but seeing your curiosity he answers you anyway. "I don't know, I thought it'd look pretty inside you and it matches with your pussy."
"Jungkook!" you shriek, cheeks burning red.
"What? I'm just honest." he laughs, pecking the back of your hand as he keeps stroking it with his fingers.
"It looks expensive." you point out, eyeing the vibrator's tip.
It looks like a real dick, well minus the pink color and the fact it's fake and made out of silicone, and even the size isn't horrendously big. It kind of matches with Jungkook's size and you wonder if he picked it up purposely.
"It was," he nods, causing your eyes to snap at him. "I'm not telling you the price." he says immediately, knowing that look you give him.
"Why would you buy something so expensive then? I'm sure they had cheaper options." you murmur, hearing him laugh because you didn't tell him he should've bought anything. You said cheaper instead.
He finds it very amusingly, his nose scrunching as his shoulders shake in laughter. He calms down, licking his lips while a soft amusing smile decorates them.
"Just the best for my baby." he tells you simply, your eyes almost bulging out but you control yourself.
Fuck, did your heart just jump?
"Don't say stuff like that." you murmur again, avoiding his eyes as you pretend you're eyeing the sex toy instead.
"Why not? It's true." he tells you simply, placing another kiss on your hand which makes you sigh.
True, what? That you're his baby or he wants just the best for you?
He's starting messing up with your head, not intentionally at least, you know that much. And you're also not stupid to notice that the relationship the two of you have is different. It's not just sex. You're aware of Jungkook's caring and sweet personality, and now that you think of it this attitude and behavior suits him. But you hadn't expected him to be like this with you. He's so sweet, constantly kissing you and calling you all these nice names that makes you want to kiss him and just let him fuck you senselessly. None of you have voiced these thoughts and you wonder if Jungkook noticed it as well. It happened naturally, just like everything in your friendship, and those thoughts just occurred to your mind all of a sudden. You were so focused on Jungkook and how amazingly he makes you feel, that you completely didn't notice how the two of you act around each other. He's always been affectionate with you, but morning kisses and his tender and caring actions could be mistaken as romantic and an act of love.
Love. How stupid.
But this is just sex. And you're going to enjoy it while it lasts. You both settled onto something after all. You pretend to be his girlfriend and he'll help you with your desires. Mutual Help. Yes, that's how he called it and that's what this is.
"Let's try it." you speak up, slowly putting the dildo back into the box as Jungkook's eyes widen in shock.
"Right now? Are you sure? You looked very shocked." he asks, eyes filled with worry but also a hidden lust behind them.
"I did look shocked," you agree, "But I want this." you assure him, giving him a slight smile he returns.
Giving you a little nod, he straightens himself, still on his knees but enough to reach your lips which he kisses. He gives a few pecks to them, before he stands up and hovers over you. Reaching for his shirt and clutching it in a fist, you pull him towards you which surprises him and causes him to stumble.
"Easy tiger," he muses, letting out a soft chuckle while he holds himself in his hands, careful not to crash you.
You giggle, hands too preoccupied to unbuckling his belt. "I should be the one calling you tiger, you bought me a freaking dildo." you joke, causing him to snicker.
"Don't act like you don't like my present." he teases you, pecking your nose while you struggle to take off his jeans which stays underneath his bum.
You start stroking him through his boxers, noticing how he clenches his jaw and tries to control his reactions which to be fair, amuses you.
"Ah, is this present supposed to be a replacement for my ripped stockings?" you raise your brow, mischief sparkling in your eyes when he stares at you through hooded eyes.
"Let's be honest, dildo is much better than any stockings." he snorts, causing you to do the same before you scoff.
"Says who? You?"
Jungkook nods teasingly, nibbling on his bottom lip as you keep stroking him, feeling his length hardening under your touch.
"To answer your question," he gulps when you squeeze him, your lips curving to a slight smirk. "No, it's not a replacement for your stockings. I'll buy them for you. I just can't believe you're still thinking about some stockings." he chuckles, hissing when you squeeze him a little bit too hard.
Intentionally, of course.
"Of course, I am. I'm a woman, I love my clothes." you sneer, wiggling your brows that makes him laugh.
"I'll buy you anything you want, just forget it already." he jokes, your brow raising.
"Careful, Jeon. Don't promise something you can't keep." you tease him.
The corner of his lips quirks up as he starts kissing down your neck, almost shifting your focus but you won't let him distract you.
"All this for some stupid stockings," he mutters against your lips, causing you to giggle. "You're gonna be the death of me."
Pulling his hardening length, he groans quietly as you circle your thumb over his tip that leaks with pre-cum. Pushing against his chest, he seems confused but follows your hands as you switch your position and push him on the bed. He opens his mouth in a mere shock, but licks his pink lips when he sees you smirking down at him. All his attention is on you, eyes watching your every move, drinking you in especially when you spit into your hand before you grip him and start stroking his length. The tip is red, skin velvet and strained wanting some attention. And you give him that.
So far, Jungkook seems to be controlling himself and barely reacting to your touch, which to be honest, quite annoys you. You take it as a challenge, wanting to get some reaction from him except his occasional silenced groans that seem to get out of his mouth unintentionally. The first touch of your lips is when you kiss the reddened tip, tasting his pre-cum and almost rolling your eyes at the sweet musky taste. You've never been so turned on about getting head. But this is not just someone, he's not even your real boyfriend and here you're, almost salivating all over his cock when you barely put him in your mouth. It's everything about him. How hot he looks laying there, almost fully clothed with his boxers resting underneath his cock and exposing that intimate part of him. Or how sharper his jawline looks from below where you're seated between his legs. How his tattooed arm rests over his stomach, those veins popping out of his beautiful skin. And lastly, how eager you're to please him because that arouses you even more to the point your underwear is sticking to your core.
Opening your mouth, you let his cock head inside just to swirl your tongue over it which makes his breath hitch but other than that, he barely reacts. Frowning with a challenge in your mind, you take him deeper and start sucking him off. Going back to his tip, just to go deeper with each time and repeating that process all over again. You always go back to his tip, sucking it and swirling your tongue against it like your life depends on it. Jungkook is not a vocal person during sex, of course he knows his way around words to make the whole enjoyment of sex even more memorable and pleasing. And during that time, you can hear him groaning and growling from time to time, especially when he's about to cum but apart from that, he's not extremely vocal. You're definitely winning in this category, which probably strokes his male ego and embarrasses you when you think about your vocals after sex.
Was I being too loud? Did someone hear me? 
These kinds of questions occur in your mind, not really bothering you or something like that. It's just a simple thought of curiosity and maybe a little bit of embarrassment. There are thin walls everywhere, you wonder if your or Jungkook's neighbors heard you. You drift away during sex so often that sometimes, you don't even realize what you say most of the time during it.
When you pull away, causing his cock slip from your mouth, you lick your lips and watch him slowly open his eyes to meet your dark and lustful gaze. "Was that good?" you almost purr, wanting to hear a praise or something at this point.
You watch his tongue slowly sliding across his bottom lip, cheeks slightly flushed as he gives you a tiny smirk. "Perfect."
But you don't have to be done with him, you'd do anything to feel him cumming inside your mouth again. Just the thought of it makes you clench around nothing and almost forces you to let out a needy whimper.
"You want me to—"
"No," he says immediately, rising from his lying position and suddenly hovering over you even from his sitting position, mimicking your own. "It's your turn."
And before you can protest, because he hasn't cum yet and you'd really want to make that happen, he's already standing up tucking his cock back into his boxers. Smirking, his lips quirk up in amused curl at the way your shoulders drop in disappointment but you don't care how easily he can tell. You're not trying to hide it anyway.
However, you watch him undress his jeans which he drops onto the floor and reaches for the box. Pulling out the pink vibrator, that you've already acquainted yourself with, before he tosses the box onto the floor as well and places the sex toy next to you. Slowly, like a snake that's eyeing its prey, he pins you down with his darkened eyes meanwhile a satisfied grin appears on those appealing lips as your back meets the mattress.
When his lips press against your jaw, neck and slowly move at the top of your breasts, you feel yourself arching from the bed in a desperate need to feel him more and closer. While his lips are preoccupied with your exposed skin that is available to his mouth, Jungkook's hands are too busy gripping your hips, ass and thighs.
"Jungkook," you breathe out, "Please." you whimper, clutching his shirt in your hand as you pull at the fabric.
He pulls away, slowly licking his lips as he starts working on your clothes, undressing you like you wanted him to. When you start tugging his shirt again, he gets the message and takes it off, giving your eyes another worthy sight of his toned abs.
You're momentarily distracted by none other than Jungkook himself, too busy salivating over your best friend to fully focus on his hands that work on your clothes until you're completely bare in front of him. There's not an ounce of shame or embarrassment, it's not the first time he sees you naked and when he drinks you in with those dark orbs, you grow even more needy and confident.
"You're beautiful," he says softly, eyes shifting at your breasts that are perked up just for him. "So beautiful."
"Stop," you whisper, avoiding his mere confusion that settles on those eyes before he shakes it off.
"Why? It's true." he tells you, fingers pinching your nipple that makes you groan at the sudden pressure he puts there.
"You shouldn't," you try to tell him, voice strained while you're having trouble fully focusing on your own words. Again. It's just what Jungkook does. He's completely messing up with your head. "You can't." you add, whimpering when he envelopes your nipple with his mouth and starts sucking your sensitive bud.
"I should," he says, twirling his tongue around your nipple before he adds; "And I can."
You want to protest, tell him that he shouldn't be telling you all that stuff. You know he'd just question it and you'd have to tell him how weird it makes you feel. On the other hand, you're completely giddy all inside whenever he compliments you, you can feel your heart beating so fast that it almost hurts. But he shouldn't be saying this to you, he's not your real boyfriend. He should say those things to someone he loves. Loves differently than you as his best friend. Someone whom he's romantically involved with.
But you can't bring yourself to tell him that, not in the middle of this and especially not when he gives the same attention to your other nipple making your thoughts go away in seconds. He spreads your legs with his hand that slowly palms your heat, humming against your nipple when your wetness coats his fingers.
"You like this, don't you?" he chuckles deeply, still palming your heat while circling his finger around your opening just to tease you.
All you can do is melt under his touch, incomprehensible words in a form of pleading leave your mouth. You can't bear all this teasing, you need to feel something more. You need him and you don't care how desperate you look or sound.
You're too distracted to notice him grabbing the vibrator, until you feel it being pressed against your clit. It's colder than Jungkook's hands and it pries your eyes open, seeing him pressing the pink toy against you. As soon as your eyes meet, the corner of his mouth quirks up in a slightest teasing smirk before your whole body jerks with surprise. The toy comes to life, sending vibrations straight to your clit that makes you arch yourself.
"Fuck," you gasp, not expecting that to happen. "You didn't tell me--"
"What? That it can do this?" he says, pressing the toy even more into your clit that makes you moan. "Oh, baby. It can do so much more."
With that, the vibration gets more intense and faster, your clit throbbing almost painfully while Jungkook starts rubbing the toy at your most sensitive spot. It's different – you've never felt this kind of pleasure. You suddenly understand Jungkook's idea of trying something new and exploring a new field of something you never thought you'd do. He's truthful to his words, doing his part of helping you with your desires that you didn't expect to have and want.
The new pleasant feeling makes your whole body shiver, or maybe it's Jungkook hovering over you almost naked with dark hair falling onto his face, or it's a simple combination of both that takes you over the edge before you can even realize it. With another rub and skilful twist of his wrist, you're cumming undone just from the set of vibration. Jungkook rides you through it, slowing down the vibration until he fully turns it off when you're done breathless.
"How was it?" he asks in a hushed tone, eyes watching you as your own open slowly, meeting his gaze.
He kisses down your jaw, sucking your skin there and you're too fucked out to tell him to be careful about possible marks. You can't be showing up at work with hickeys covering your skin, Yoongi would never let you live and you don't need unnecessary attention from your colleagues anyway.
"Amazing." you manage to let out, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest.
"You ready for more?" he asks against your skin, sending a few rounds of shivers down your whole body as your breath hitches.
"More?" you ask breathlessly, wondering what he's got planned for tonight.
Surely, this is not the end of your night and pleasure. Jungkook's cock is still fully hard and yearning for that attention which makes your eyes widen in realization that he still hadn't cum. You were so fully focused on your pleasure that you completely forgot about Jungkook's for a few minutes.
"You didn't think I'm done with you, right?" he chuckles, pecking your lips as he sits up and takes off his boxers, fully exposing his cock to your hungered gaze.
Smirking, he starts pumping himself and the single sight is enough to make lust clouding your mind all over again. You feel yourself clenching and needing that pleasure all over again, despite that you just came. It wasn't enough, you need to feel him inside and just that thought makes you shiver with excitement. Slowly sitting up, you let his dark eyes watch you as you get closer to him, just to put him closer by the back of his neck. You kiss him, letting your lips linger on his own just for a few more seconds before you pull away.
"I want to be on top tonight," you tell him, met with a tiny smirk as he nods.
He reaches for the nightstand, pulling out a condom that you rip from his hands and urge him to lay down. He listens to you, still smirking down at you even from his position as he makes himself comfortable. You open the condom, eyes locked on his while he plops his arms behind his head, laying in his full glory. With cock slapped against his stomach, you grab him and put on the condom before you give him a few pumps. He bites his lip, still smirking at you which causes you to roll your eyes.
"Why the hell are you smirking?" you murmur, hovering over him while you straddle him, not fully sitting onto him.
"Nah, I'm just enjoying this." he muses.
"What? Me being on top?" you chuckle, grabbing his length as you let him run up and down your slit.
"You being so... dominant," he decides to say, eyes closing for a mere moment as you put more pressure onto his length. "Use me, baby. Make yourself cum."
Fuck, he's killing you.
"You ready?" you ask him, looking deeply into his eyes as he grins, poking his inner cheek with a tongue, a habit of his (extremely hot habit), before he opens his mouth;
"Like never before."
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radiant-reid · 1 year
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Exposed
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Summary: You and Spencer don't realize how many of your not-safe-for-work conversations have been on the FBI's radar until a memo gets distributed
Word Count 1.0k
Content Warning: NSFW (18+) themes
Similar to how it's never good to get called into the principal's office, it's never good when Hotch calls a meeting in the middle of the day. With no case, active or pending, curious looks get exchanged before the team when Hotch speaks from the landing before you all climb the stairs and follow Hotch to the boardroom.
Spencer slyly sits next to you, pretending he didn't notice Morgan was going to sit there. He taps your foot under the table, which you didn't understand could be flirtatious before you met Spencer.
Always a straight shooter (metaphorically and literally), Hotch doesn't waste any time. He hands a copy of a stapled stack of paper to each of you but stays standing, hinting that it will be a quick meeting. Thankfully, that means nothing is wrong.
Your eyes widen when you read the cover page: Sexual Harassment Memorandum.
A tiny giggle escapes JJ's lips as everyone looks at Penelope and Morgan, who are likely the guilty parties. They both look a little nervous, Penelope grimacing while Morgan stiffens in his seat.
"The brass has caught on to some less-than-work-appropriate language used by members of this team," Hotch informs you all. "And, although we have more important things to do like saving lives, they want this memo of inappropriate language examples distributed."
Besides the hilariousness of the passive-aggressive telling-off, it amuses you that Hotch thinks it's a waste of time.
"Please read through it and refrain from using these words when there's an outside audience." He finishes.
"That outside audience being Erin Strauss," Rossi comments in a low enough whisper Hotch can pretend he didn't hear the insult at his superior.
"That's all." Hotch wraps up the meeting before leaving the room, presumably to finish work that's actually important.
Everyone's wearing amused grins when Hotch leaves. "Busted." Rossi sing-songs to Morgan and Penelope, who are looking very guilty. "Have fun, kids." He laughs before leaving the room.
You notice the thickness of the new list of forbidden phrases. "Damn, how much flirting have you two done since the last time you got in trouble with HR?" You joke, earning a laugh from the table.
The list is amusing to read, everyone laughing at the memories. It was definitely not HR's intent, but it breaks up the monotonous day.
Reading pages ahead, Spencer stiffens next to you, and you're on edge about what he's read. After eight years, he's heard some lewd things come out of Penelope and Morgan's mouths, so it's unlikely one of their comments would have phased him.
You see it when you skim-read a few quotes: you looked sexy in your glasses earlier. You can remember exactly when you typed that. It was a stakeout where you were assigned to sit in a car with Morgan while Spencer sat with Emily, and you were so bored you thought you'd flirt with your boyfriend. It's not too revealing regarding who it was about, and Penelope wears glasses, so hopefully, it goes unnoticed.
It doesn't.
"Wait, I never said that," Morgan says, finger hovering over the quote.
"Which one?" Emily asks, intrigued.
"You looked sexy in your glasses earlier." He repeats what you'd texted Spencer, busting you both. You kick him under the table when you notice the blush spreading around your boyfriend's neck.
The rest of the team is puzzled, not understanding how it couldn't be them. "Are the rest yours?" Emily asks.
"You're on my most-wanted list." Morgan reads the contents of the email Spencer sent you with an attachment to the FBI's updated most wanted list. That one was situationally inappropriate, but you deleted it twice and told Spencer to do the same, so you're not sure how they got it.
They read through a few more that aren’t theirs, and you grow increasingly worried about how curious they will be. There’s no chance they’ll let it go. As profilers, won’t take them long to figure it out, especially when your boyfriend is blushing like a maniac next to you, no matter how much you kick him under the table.
The most damming one is on the last page: that sweater vest is very sexy. Olive green is your color. It’s from a few weeks ago, spoken over Spencer’s earpiece as he infiltrated a poker competition to apprehend an UnSub.
“This is about you.” Emily immediately picks up, looking at Spencer.
“Yeah, and you wore your glasses a couple of months ago,” Penelope remembers. Although he played it off like his contact lenses didn’t get delivered before he ran out, it was really because he left them at his apartment when he stayed at yours one night and you distracted him for so long in the morning that he didn’t have time to get any.  
Spencer cringes, looking totally guilty. There’s no point in denying it, so Morgan lays into the next part of the mystery. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
That’s much easier to solve when there are four women around the table, and Penelope couldn’t be sexually attracted to him, JJ’s married, and Emily’s like his big sister, so that leaves you.
“No way!” Penelope squeals excitedly, clearly thrilled by this big reveal.
“Some of this is filthy,” Emily says, pointing out some very dirty messages. They were mostly over phone calls which is why you didn’t think they could be tracked.
You bite your bottom lip, eyes flicking to Spencer. He’s as amused as he is embarrassed. “Surprise?” He jokes to reveal your relationship.
You smirk, joining him in his unashamed stance. It’s not your fault the FBI won’t overlook your occasional flirting. “It’s worse on our personal phones.” You assure them.
“I want to know everything,” Penelope tells you. “We’re having girls’ night ASAP.”
It’s not the reaction you imagine, but Spencer shrugs. He has been reassured countless times that he leaves you more than satisfied in bed. “Just remember you’ll have to look at me the next day.” He warns the BAU ladies who are desperate to hear the insider details of your relationship.
It's a good point to consider but the gossip is too tempting. “Tonight.” Penelope decides.
You laugh at her eagerness, nodding. “Let’s do it.”
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i-wanna-write · 5 months
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You Left Us - Bode Leone/Donovan x Reader
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Synopsis: Reader and Bode had a relationship before the accident that changed everything. After that night, Bode left everything and everyone behind, including reader. Now he’s back and reader has some things to say and drops a bombshell.
Takes place during “Pilot”
Disclaimer: I tried googling so much to see how long Bode was gone before returning to Edgewater and there was nothing!!! I think he mentioned he got 4 years for the robbery and 2 years served before parole. So let’s say he’s been gone for 5 years!
Words: 1k +
Warnings: like 1 mention of intimacy, 2 F bombs. I think that’s it!
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When you got the call from Eve, you didn’t know what to think. After all this time he’s just here, in Edgewater, back in your life. 5 years of nothing. Of you trying your damn hardest to find him, to see if he was okay, hell to make sure he’s alive. You came up empty so many times you finally had to give up.
Yet here he is.
In Edgewater at Three Rock. Working as a con firefighter. Working the job that’s his legacy only in an orange jumpsuit rather than the firefighter shield.
Your heart breaks.
The two of you dreampt about your future together so many times. About how he was finally clean and sober and ready to settle down. About how you have been through so much together, and how you were by his side through his worse struggles.
But the accident happened and all of that was thrown away.
All these thoughts, all the memories are running through your head as you stand outside the hospital room. Sharon just went in, looking at her son for the first time in five years.
You watch as Vince creeps into the doorway to look at his son - the man you know he blames for his daughter’s death - and see his mouth move as he utters one sentence.
“What are you doing here Bode?”
Despite your good relationship with Vince, you hate that those words are the first he utters. How he still blames Bode after all these years.
You walk towards the doorway, getting Vince’s attention. He looks at you for a moment before nodding his head and leaving. He said all he needed to say to his son.
You see him for the first time in 5 years, noting how he looks so similar yet so different. The orange jumpsuit doesn’t look right on him. It makes it appear that he’s simply wearing it as a Halloween costume. Your gaze travels up his legs and to his chest, noticing that he’s filled out more and has more muscle.
You can’t seem to bring your eyes to his face.
Sharon notices you and turns toward Bode.
“I’ll give you two a moment.” She says before walking away from her son.
She places her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently before quietly leaving the room.
Silence fills the room now, neither one of you being the first to speak. Your gaze is straight ahead, locked on Bode’s wide chest.
“Y/N.” He finally says, his voice a whisper.
You finally look at him and want to cry. Despite his bodies physical change, his face is still the same only speckled with blood and cuts. His eyes are just as blue, eyelashes just as long. His chin is draped in stubble, connecting with his hair by his ears. His hair - how you missed running your fingers through it due to its long length and pulling on it during your most intimate moments.
“How- how are you?” Bode questions with such hesitance in his voice.
“How am I?” You repeat slowly. You give a little chuckle. “Well, I’m looking at a ghost of a man I loved, so how do you think I am?”
Bode nods, expecting that answer. “Y/N, I know there’s nothing I can say that-“ Bode starts, taking a step towards you but you interrupt, hand raised.
“Don’t. There is not nothing, and I mean nothing, you can say to me. You had 5 years to say soemthing, anything! But you didn’t. No call, text, email, hell no fucking pigeon sending a letter! I didn’t know if you were somewhere strung out or dead or in jail. But I guess now I have my answer.”
You mutter the last answer, knowing it will cut deep into him like a knife. But he deserves it, you remind yourself. He left you with no explanation, and not once contacted you to simply say he was okay.
You watch as Bode hangs his head, nodding. He agrees with everything you said of course. You were the best thing that ever happened to him, yet he threw it away. Too lost in his own grief to stick around.
“I understand, I do. It’s not an excuse but I couldn’t stay here. I had to leave. I had-“
“You left us!” Your voice raises this time, again cutting him off. “We just moved in together and I had to try to pay it myself. I lost my bestfriend that night and my boyfriend! I’ve had to live the past 5 years without both of you! I had to try to stay afloat! I had to do it by myself. I had to set up appointments and- and deal with the late nights alone and look at schools and -“
This time you cut yourself off, knowing you said too much.
Bode takes another step toward you and now you’re a foot away, eyes locked on his as you know what he’s about to say
“Us?” He questions quietly. “What do you mean us? Us who?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed and mind racing.
You sigh, tears falling from your eyes. You try to wipe them with your hand but they don’t seem to stop falling.
“I was going to tell you that night.” You reveal. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I had the whole thing planned. But, it happened and than days later, you were just gone”
You bring your hand back down and wrap them both around yourself, trying to find comfort. You didn’t mean for it to come out like this. For him to find out like this - or to find out at all as you considered the possibility that he was dead.
“I was pregnant.” You continue. “And- and I had to have our baby alone. I had to raise him, without you. Tell him that you aren’t here, that- that you-“
Bode cuts you off, his arms wrapping around your waist as sobs leave you. You face is against his chest as his arms run up and down your body, trying to calm your tears. You unwrap your arms from yourself and snake them around his neck, holding him tighter as you try to compose yourself.
You take a deep breath and inhale solely Bode. Despite how many years has passed, he still smells the same. Wood, spice, and for some reason he always had the faint scent of cinnoman. Maybe that’s why those are your favorite candles
Bodie pulls away after a few moments but doesn’t let go, his arms still on your waist. You notice tears in his bright blue eyes and can’t help but reach up and wipe one away.
“We have a baby?” He questions, his voice cracking slightly.
The guilt he feels right now is different than when Riley died. That guilt caused an ache in his heart that never went away, like a piece was missing. But this guilt is in his chest and throat, it feels as if he cannot swallow and the whole world is crumbling.
Not only did he leave you behind, but he left his baby, his unborn child and you had to care for them, alone - without him.
You nod, smiling slightly. “Well, he’s not much of a baby anymore.”
“He?” Bode questions, eyebrows raised.
You reach into your back pocket and pull out your phone. Wanting to show him your screen saver. To show him a picture of the child he helped create
“This is Benjamin Bode Leone. Born May 26. 7lbs 3 ounces. 10 fingers. 10 toes.” You pull away slightly to allow him a better look.
He carefully grabs your phone and stares at the picture. You watch as tears form in his eyes again and he traces the picture with his finger. You can’t help but smile at the seen.
Benjamin is a carbon copy of his father. Bright blue eyes, slightly curly blonde hair, and a mischievous smile that allows him to get away with just about anything.
You allow him a few more seconds to look at the picture before speaking again.
“I should hate you.” You whisper. “But I can’t. You’re his father and whether you stay in Edgewater or not, I- I want you to somehow be apart of his life. Only if you want to.” You finish quickly, not wanting to make a decision for him.
“No.” Bode states, still looking at the picture. “No I would love to be a part of his life. I - I’ve fucked up so many things, but this, he, he is one thing I got right.” Bode paused, looking up to meet your eyes. “That and loving you.”
You smile. You knew in that moment, he would never leave you again. Not if he could help it.
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*me hiding*
So, did you like it???? Again, I’m so new at this so please, leave a like or comment or reblog! I appreciate it so much!
💜 Kenzie
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murkycran · 5 months
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Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List
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Welcome to my Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List! ^_^ This will include romantic, platonic, and/or queerplatonic Radiostatic fics (and admittedly probably a couple of Radiosilence fics, too).
I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.
These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.
Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!
✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.
Fic Rec List Masterpost
Staticmoth Fic Rec List
Misc. Vox Fic Rec List
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Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch
Summary: Alastor comes across an unconscious and battered Vox while out on one of his strolls. He feels compelled to bring him back to the hotel.
Notes: 98% of this fic was written before season 1 was released, so keep that in mind, because there's obviously going to be inconsistencies with canon. It's nearly finished (at least according to the author's notes in the latest chapters, I think). I suggest pacing yourself with this one - it's nearly 700k words long. I ruined a good sleep schedule staying up to get through it. (So worth it though.) There are quite a few OCs in later chapters, but they're such good OCs. You fall in love with them just as much as the canon characters, I swear. I would die for Verity and the Trio.
Let's Misbehave by joosymango
Summary: Alastor wins a bet against Vox, now his rival must stop pestering him for two weeks. It should be a pleasant break! So why does he miss the idiot?
Notes: Vaguely inspired by Aspiring_Forest_Witch's Radio Healed the Video Star. Also largely written before season 1 release. First fic I read for the HH fandom. ^_^
Safe with Me Series by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: Having only ever set his sights on men who treat women with odious disrespect, Alastor never thought he'd take interest in Vox's turbulent relationship with his fiancé and business partner, Valentino. He decides to lend a helping hand in the hopes of getting Vox out of his sticky situation. After all, what are childhood enemies for?
Unfortunately, neither Alastor nor Vox could've predicted the rollercoaster of unsaid emotions and future horrors that are thrown their way. Will they be able to rely on each other and get by unscathed? Or will destiny have other plans for these two?
[HUMAN AU] [There's art included for the human designs]
Notes: It's so, so good. ;-; Heed the tags. There's a prequel consisting of oneshots, plus a sequel (listed below, bc I can't not put it here)! And there's ART! So much art!
You, My Everything by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: Some say that love can conquer all, even in Hell.
Vox begged to differ, and he was damn well sure Alastor did too – or at least he would be, if Alastor hadn’t become one big question mark.
Sequel to Safe with Me.
Notes: Only read if you've read Safe With Me!!! Still pretty early in the story but so good. ;-; The angst, I swear...
You're on the Air by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: A series of short, daily conversations between a radio host and his avid listener, as the two learn more about each other’s lives over the air. Set in the late 90s/early 2000s.
Notes: Same author as Safe with Me, but not set in the same universe! This one is set up in a literal radio show format; almost entirely dialogue-centric.
Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: Inspired by x_Arcticfox_x’s fanfiction: Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola
After overdosing on them one too many times to curb the steadily weakening suppressants, Vox's body rejects them outright. Now with his scent getting stronger, he finds himself struggling to hide his true status as an Omega. In his desperation, he seeks help from the one person that knows his secret: Alastor.
Notes: Omegaverse. Same author as Safe with Me series and You're on the Air!
Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola by x_Arcticfox_x
Summary: Vox is an omega, that's his biggest secret.
During his life time he hid this fact using suppressants, and counited to in death. One day he runs out of pills and his supplier is out of stock for the time being so Vox is forced to submit to the torture of going through heat for the first time in decades.
Too bad his business partner only see's omega's as mere object's...
But hey, at least Angel found him just in time, right?
Notes: Omegaverse. Currently on hold, but has 14 chapters currently available for reading. :)
Once Bitten, Twice Shy by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Alastor decides that it's time to claim what is rightfully his, consequences be damned.
Notes: It's not porn but it might as well have been for how fucking intense this scene was. 😳
Dripping Pink by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Just before an Overlord meeting, Alastor gets infected by an off-market, highly potent, and incredibly dangerous love potion. Nobody realises until it's too late.
Notes: Simultaneously funny as fuck and erotic as all hell. I suffered from so much secondhand embarrassment on Vox's behalf. It's wonderful. :D
Lucidity's Fog by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Ever since he met Alastor, Vox has been having raunchy dreams about the deer. Those dreams suddenly stop when Alastor disappears. For seven years, he's free of the guilt, of the shame brought on by his unconscious desire.
Until Alastor comes back, and Vox is plagued by a new dream the same day he finds out about the news. This time, however, something is distinctively different about how the deer is acting.
Notes: Author tagged for light angst, but ngl the ending did not feel like 'light' angst to me lol. Hurt in a good way.
Finger Tips and Dotted Lips by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Alastor has sensitive hands; he finds this out at the most inconvenient time possible. Unfortunately, Vox is the one who ends up paying the price for it.
Having to help a seemingly broken Overlord whilst navigating this new discovery proves to be a little more taxing than the Radio Demon could ever have imagined.
Notes: Alastor is such a troll in this omg.
Thawing Out by Seaside_Dreaming
Summary: Seeing a small crack in Vox's screen nags at Alastor more than he likes to admit.
Vox wishes things were better. Sooner or later, Alastor has to come to terms with the fact he has feelings, in general.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. HIGHLY suggest reading the prequel one-shot. It's not necessary to understand the plot here, but you should read it anyway.
Static by passthevoxcord
Summary: Vox creates a new and improved version of himself to please Val, only to be replaced by it. He is left beaten and broken with no one to turn to . . . except maybe his oldest enemy, Alastor.
Notes: Written before season 1 release.
Hating you feels so good by TwoBitJester
Summary: Vox obsesses over his returned enemy and finds himself a little too wound up
Notes: Very good PWP.
Laced Over Dinner by hazbinhearts
Summary: Vox is persuaded to dress a little differently over dinner for Alastor, but finds it remarkably uncomfortable as the night goes on. Written for VoxWeek21 Day 3: dressing up [appearance, formal, dance].
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Corsets. 😳
Observer by DeviousPossum
Summary: He moved the cursor to click off, when he suddenly heard a very recognizable static laced tone.
Alastor.
Alastor.
What the fuck. Alastor is singing.
Vox unintentionally ran claw marks across his desk, an increasingly common habit for him as of late. He grimaced at his now ruined table and unsuccessfully tried to reel in an inexplicable feeling that could only be described as jealousy.
Notes: Porn with a tiny bit of plot in the first chapter. :3
RadioTV Week 2021 Series by Heliosolar
Summary: Pretty much the title; various prompts.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. All worth reading, though they aren't connected.
Sharkblocking by Anonymous
Summary: Alastor is Vox’s number one rival. Incidentally, though nobody involved is aware of it, Alastor’s number one rival is actually Vox’s pet shark.
In which Alastor is actually a little obsessed back and Vark is the biggest obstacle to Radiostatic short of canon itself.
Notes: VARK!
Control + V by TooManyPsuedonyms
Summary: Vox and Alastor have a... thing. Not quite a relationship, but something. Vox is too scared to define it properly, and Alastor is dead set that Vox will eventually get bored of his lack of reciprocity and move on.
So, Valentino tries to show Vox what he is missing.
... too bad Vox didn't want him like that. ... too bad Alastor didn't know want is a vague word.
Notes: Heed the tags!!! There's currently a sequel; I haven't read it yet, but I definitely plan to. 👀
gift of the magi by vol_ctrl
Summary: "... Although husband and wife are now left with gifts that neither one can use, they realize how far they are willing to go to show their love for each other, and how priceless their love really is ..."
Alastor/Vox established relationship fluff.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Very sweet. ^_^
the lost tape by vol_ctrl
Summary: There's a NEW ambitious media demon in Pentagram City. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, right?
Notes: Written before season 1 release.
12 Days of Yuletide by vol_ctrl
Summary: A parody of the 12 Days of Christmas traditional tune, as can only be done by Vox gifting to his beloved adversary.
Or, a series of letters from the desk of Alastor upon receiving a series of increasingly elaborate gifts from his insufferably modern foil during the holiday season.
Notes: Written before season 1 release.
Fear makes the heart grow fonder by Graysongirl
Summary: After a bit of inspiration from an unlikely source Vox comes up with the plan that scaring Alastor is the best route to gaining his affections. The haunted house at LuLu World seems like the perfect (safe) environment for a bit of pre-planned scaring...
[Stand-alone staticradio]
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Funny af. "Red! Red!" XD
Cordyceps, King of Ants by spappest
Summary: Vox is tired. Of Valentino. Of Velvette. Of Alastor, and Hell, and everything in between. He can't escape, but he can cut himself off, piece by piece, until he feels nothing at all. Alastor takes exception to this approach and commissions a certain princess of Hell to fix his foe. Now Vox has a hotel of misfits on one side of him, overlords on the other, and Alastor crushing his cage ever smaller.
Clearly, the only way Vox will get any peace and quiet is to just kill God.
Valentino did always tell him that he had no chill.
Notes: Started before season 1 was released. Technically features Staticmoth but it's not the focus as much as Radiostatic (which honestly has a relationship status of ??? not romantic but also not friendship or even strictly enemies...just...Alastor and Vox). O_O I think about this fic on a daily basis.
Russian Roulette by spappest
Summary: Vox and Alastor play a game that Vox is way too excited to lose.
Notes: Started before season 1 release. Take note!!! I'm putting this on the Radiostatic list because it's almost entirely centered on Alastor and Vox's dynamic, but the romantic relationship is Staticmoth. The Staticmoth is just not featured very much.
Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Afterlife by spappest
Summary: Alastor goes into rut.
Vox has a bad time. Then a good time. Then a very bad time. Then a brief vacation. Then a confusing time.
Notes: Background Staticmoth, but Radiostatic is most prominent. Funny af. Alastor and Vox have...a very special relationship. Lol.
Killer Ex by FanGirl48
Summary: Alastor was a serial killer who valued his privacy. So when someone who claims to know what he is tries to barge into his life he can't let them live, his secret must be protected at all cost.
A normally easy task easy task becomes complicated when Alastor's ex-boyfriend is dragged into the whole thing forcing the serial killer to go visit them for the first time in seven years.
Notes: Human AU. Love me some possessive Alastor. <3
Negotiations by FanGirl48
Summary: Vox had no interest in attending a meeting between Heaven and Hell following the failed attack by the Adam and his Exterminators. Alastor's little gremlin caused the mess, so he can go clean it up. Vox had nothing wanted nothing to do with the radio demon, king of hell or heaven.
But that was before Lucifer made the media overlord aware of Valentino's little job offer to his daughter.
Damnit Valentino!
Notes: "And they were roommates!" "Oh my god they were roommates"
Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast
Summary: Vox dies. Surprisingly no one takes this well.
Or, Vox dies and Alastor tries to drag his soul back from Purgatory.
Notes: Another fic I think about daily... Heavy themes. Heed the tags.
Hold Me Like a Grudge by Rachello344
Summary: Alastor has spent a long time running from Vox. Vox has chased after him almost as long. When suppressants fail throughout the city, they finally collide.
Notes: Omegaverse. Fun fact about this author: all their Radiostatic fic titles are from Fall Out Boy lyrics lol. (I fucking love FOB sue me.) I haven't yet read all of Rachello344's Radiostatic fics, BUT I have them all on my To Read list because I've loved everything I've read of theirs so far lol.
What Makes You So Special? by Rachello344
Summary: With Lucifer’s return to the Pride Ring, the other Deadly Sins were bound to take notice. When Asmodeus stops by the Pride Ring to visit the Morningstars, the Vees are able to make a deal to host a pop-up shop of the incredibly popular Lust Ring establishment, Ozzie’s, bringing it to the Pride Ring for the first time.
When Vox and Alastor both attend the restaurant’s opening night, long repressed sparks fly, forever changing their relationship.
Notes: Because of the pacing of this (sex first romance later), I feel like this is the Radiostatic equivalent of Femalefonzie's Freak-A-Zoid (a really good Staticmoth fic). This is hands down one of the most romantic Radiostatic fics I've read. ^_^
Hold Me Tight (or Don't) by Rachello344
Summary: Alastor and Vox finally come to an understanding, both of each other and of what they each mean to the other. Their relationship evolves accordingly, one concession at a time, until they both get everything they could possibly want: power, companionship, and even love.
Notes: So, so good.
Keep You Like an Oath by Rachello344
Summary: Alastor normally wouldn’t bother with the chore—breaking into V Tower was quite a lot of work, even for him—but he found himself curious about what Vox and his little friends might be working on. Especially since whatever it was had Angel concerned enough to report back to the rest of the hotel about it.
Of course, before he can learn anything, he’ll need to sneak past Vox’s watchful eye…
Notes: God it's just...so good. Read it. Radiostatic reconciliation. One thing I love about Rachello344 writing Radiostatic is Alastor's terms of endearment for Vox. ^_^
To Be Yours by pinegreenapples
Summary: Alastor hears something he hasn't heard in years. He decides to investigate why now, of all times, this frequency has turned back on. Vox is not amused.
Notes: Hurt no comfort. Hurts so good, though. ;-;
oleanders in june by spoondrifts
Summary: It seems like while Alastor was off preying on the self-destructive addictions of desperate sinners, Vox was off getting himself beaten half to death, probably from spouting belligerent nonsense at someone with violent tendencies and a far lower threshold for disrespect than Alastor. Not everyone finds poor Vox’s chatter as charming as he does.
If Vox is unconscious, then Vox is not being entertaining, and Alastor came here to have fun, not play nursemaid.
Or: Drunk on power and itching to cause some mayhem, Alastor hunts down the only person in the city who's always up for anything. Unfortunately, he finds Vox... not exactly in tip-top shape. No matter; he can work with that too.
Notes: ^_^ Very sweet.
equilibrium by curtailed
Summary: Post-Finale. The Hotel finds Alastor right on the front lawn, unconscious and bleeding, still injured from Adam's blade. While he recovers, all of Hell scrambles to find out who his mysterious rescuer is.
Meanwhile, Vox tries not to freak out that he might have accidentally made a soul bond to save that deer asshole's life. All he had wanted to do was to scope out the ruins of Alastor's radio tower. Fuck him for being curious, he supposed.
Notes: This fic has me in a CHOKEHOLD. I love the characterizations so, so much. Manages to fit in humor alongside the angst. One of the best fight scenes I've ever seen put into words. Curtailed really took Vox and Alastor as characters and planned out a cool fucking fight scene using their unique abilities. I automatically love anything tagged with "one fell first but the other fell harder" lol.
candlelight by curtailed
Summary: Despite the #SirRepentious success, Heaven remains skeptical of a sinner's ability to change. Logic gets lost somewhere, and really, what's a better way to show sinners can be marginally less horrible than to stick two Overlords who hate each other in the same living space?
OR
Alastor and Vox play house.
Notes: The comedy of Alastor and Vox being forced to be civil with each other and then unintentionally becoming very domestic together. Lol
wallow by curtailed
Summary: A 2+1 fic. Two times when Alastor and Vox were in a love triangle (hard quote on love, hard quote on triangle), and the one time Alastor had Vox to himself.
Notes: Only 1 (very good) chapter so far, but safe to say pretty heavy already. Heed the tags.
Addicted by Dancingdog
Summary: After the latest argument with Valentino, Vox finds himself at the Hazbin Hotel. An injured Alastor is less-than-pleased to see him, which is understandable considering they are enemies.
But as more and more of Valentino's venom leaves his system, Vox begins to remember his days before V-Tower and he learns exactly why Alastor rejected his offer all those decades ago.
His memories return in fits and spurts - not all of them good. His past with Alastor isn't something he expected and it turns out that he isn't the only one suffering.
Notes: Dude. This fic hurt me. Such good angst.
Radio Made the Video Star Series by songofhell
Summary: Snippets of Vox and Alastor's afterlife, and their journey from strangers to friends to enemies to... something more.
Notes: Pretty much what the series summary says - a series of installments that chronicle the beginning and subsequent evolution of Alastor and Vox's relationship. Very good, has tons of possessive!Alastor, which I die for.
Uneasy by Saezs
Summary: “Something’s wrong with Voxy.”
Velvette’s eyes snapped to the tall moth pimp. “And?” she prompted with a raised eyebrow. As if she needed to deal with two piss babies this close to a show. Valentino shrugged, tapping away on his phone, and walked away to stand threateningly close to her new models. Before she could snap at him, she saw it; his wings were twitching. Barely noticeable to strangers, just under the hum of the building’s lights, he was squeaking with each tap of his fingers. She felt unease and a healthy dose of aggravation swirl in her stomach.
Or: Vox was roofied and sexually assaulted. Velvette tries to be better than her mother. Unexpected connections are formed.
Notes: Heed the tags! Features genderfluid Vox. :)
Five Times Vox and Alastor Danced and One Time They Didn't by Drowsy_Salamander
Summary: “I say, good fellow, what are you doing on the ground like that?”
The voice was perky, cheerful, and bright. It had a crisp mid-Atlantic accent, the kind Vox remembered being all the rage for stage and film performers back when he first entered the broadcast industry. The diction was crystal clear with every sound enunciated separately to maximise clarity, the consonants clicked and the vowels were broad. It was a performer’s voice.
A voice for radio.
Oh shit.
... Five times Vox and Alastor danced and one time Vox and Alastor didn't.
From their first meeting through their friendship, to their enmity and fighting. From infatuation to yearning to animosity. Dancing is a partnership, is it not?
Notes: Each chapter so far has been a different type of dance, which is really neat. Especially chapter 2. ^_^ That said, there's a feeling of impending doom, knowing what happens to their relationship eventually... Not saying that as a deterrent but just a comment on how I felt while reading it lol. It's very sweet, which is why it hurts to think of future chapters. 🙃
Days Long Past by Momo52
Summary: All sinners of hell bore some physical marks of how they lived and died. Some physical manifestations were more obvious while others were subtle. Vox was not an exception to this rule.
While his television head was an obvious indication of his life while on Earth, the mark he bore from his death was far more subdued. Luckily enough, his shame was easily concealed behind a high collar. Unfortunately, he is just as well known in his afterlife as he was in his life. As such, trying to make everyone believe that he is so much stronger than what his death implies is a constant battle. He only wished that he wasn’t the hardest one to convince.
Notes: I think platonic Radiostatic is the endgame here. Still pretty early in the story, but I'm really liking this author's depiction of Vox and Alastor's pasts. Heed the tags. There are heavy subjects such as suicide (very big theme for Vox's pov) and period-typical racism (in Alastor's past) present in the story.
Remote Access by x-UsoTsuki-x (its_not_reael)
Summary: In the aftermath of Alastor and Vox's electrifying on-air showdown, Vox finds himself unusually rattled. His usual suave demeanor is slipping, much to his cohorts' amusement – and concern. Velvet can do little more than roll her eyes at his antics. Valentino, on the other hand, is convinced that all Vox needs to do is get fucked and relax.
or, alternatively...
The tech-savvy overlord manages to snag a virus from a porn site and finds himself in the arms of his worst enemy.
Notes: Fairly certain this is firmly Radiosilence based on the tags (and the direction of the story so far). Very funny, very hot. Vox is pathetic in this one. Lol
Nun-thing Like You've Ever Seen Series by A_Cypress_Coffin
Summary: Alastor, the feared radio demon with more blood on his hands than most of hell combined, wasn't always as we imagine him. There was a time where instead of a dapper suit and smile he donned a simple vow and habit. That didn't last of course, but the journey is quite something.
Notes: This author has a great sense of humor, lmao. I enjoyed the unique headcanons for Alastor's backstory. The tag that hooked me: "Accidentally becoming a better person through bad domming and found family".
Empathia by The_Oblivious_Swallow
Summary: Creating new technology is boring, sex is physically unappealing, the other Vee’s are so annoying, annoying, annoying! Even Vark, his baby, his pride and joy, doesn’t stir the same joy in his heart like he should.
So, Vox had concluded that it had to go. For his sake.
Notes: Contains Staticmoth, but Radiostatic seems like the endgame (I write this as there is one chapter still left). Really interesting idea. I love Vox.exe so much. ;-;
Every Madman Has His Vice by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: “What the fuck do you want, Alastor? Was it not enough to kill me all those years ago? Now, you had to go for the people I loved and the only things I had left in this fucking Hellhole?”
“It was my fault,” Alastor whispers as he approaches Vox slowly, as if he was some sort of wounded animal he didn’t want to scare off. His prey. “Vox, I’m sorry. If I had a chance to redo that night, I would never have hurt you to this extent. I’ll never harm you again.”
“That’s seven years too fucking late, Alastor.”
OR: Seven years ago, instead of Alastor disappearing, it was Vox who left instead.
Notes: I’m so fucking here for this AU. Possessive Alastor, Vox helping with the hotel, Husk is still an Overlord, yessss
Metathesiophobia (Fear of Change) by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: There's a lot that can change in seven years.
But never once had Alastor expected for something like this from his old rival and older friend.
Or, Alastor and Vox start to rekindle their old friendship again after a shocking discovery strikes the deer demon.
Notes: QPR Radiostatic with MtF Vox! Contains a smidge of Staticmoth, but it's in the background and not the focus. Very well written.
surimi and venison by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: A series of short drabbles (500+ words) in an interconnected universe (peep the tags, they're still in hell), centering around Alastor and his new pet fish... shark... television thing. Will (hopefully) update 1-2 times a week. Written as my attempt at a Mermay series.
Notes: Like the summary says, Mermay prompts featuring SharkHybrid!Vox, along with Alastor, who literally saw Vox and decided to make him his pet. Lol.
an arm and a leg, my dear, les yeux d'la tête by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: “I mean, usually when Val gets mad he gets like, super pissy too an’ starts destroyin’ shit ‘round the set and in his clubs, but like, usually Vox can calm him down. Problem is, where the Hell is that guy? I haven’t seen ‘im round the Tower for like, a month or two now. That ain’t normal.”
“What, so you mean he just up and left?”
“No, but like… he hasn’t been seen ‘in public’ for like, two months now. It’s startin’ to get suspicious. Like, I ‘unno if I’m just paranoid or something, but… Vox is like, the fuckin’ face of Hell’s Entertainment District. When he’s not round for a bit, that’s nothing to worry about on its own… but when he’s not round for a bit an’ Val and Velvette are creeping around, looking for his rival…? I mean… the dots are connecting. If Al did something…”
“If Vox was dead, we would know.” OR: Two months ago, Vox went missing. Right now, it seems as if Alastor has something to hide.
Notes: Vox gets attic-wifed and wears a virgin killer sweater. ^_^
we'll go down together in the ashes of our love by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: Glimpses into the Radio Demon's life as he reluctantly navigates parenthood with his co-parenting partner and the demon princess hoisted onto him by the King and Queen of Hell.
Loosely inspired by Spy X Family.
Notes: CUTE! I love domestic Radiostatic.
What Has Been by Tianren
Summary: Vox has never known peace. From being the son of a egocentric cult leader, to being the boyfriend of a self absorbed abuser. Vox has managed to build a pretty sad life for himself. The only spot of sunshine that had ever blessed his existence was when he met an amateur true crime investigative journalist, with a podcast named, Alastor. The man was his only source of unfiltered news and contact to the world outside his father’s compound. But after Vox finally escaped the cult he waited for Alastor. Waited weeks in their assigned meeting spot just to be forgotten. Vox was convinced he’d stopped waiting for Alastor years ago until he meets the man again seven years later at a hotel. What will reconnecting with his past lead to and will it help him escape the hell he’s built for himself?
Takes place in the late 2000s early 2010s
Trigger warning for religious trauma and abuse as major themes of this story. Will add more warnings if they arise as I go on.
Notes: Really interesting human AU concept!
(Fic rec list to be continued)
133 notes · View notes
peachsukii · 7 months
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Hollow Heart { chapter 3 - choke }
『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-heroes au | friends to lovers ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡
summary: you have zero clue where you are after your abduction. white walls, medical instruments, the smell of rust, and hazy memories are all that keep you company during your time in the mystery lab. the horrors that lurk between these steel walls are going to give you nightmares for an eternity. all you can think about is getting home to your best friends and family, back to the life you sorely missed. tags & warnings: mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance a/n: To all of you who have stopped to read this fic, thank you so much! This was my jump back into writing after almost a decade. I appreciate every single one of you!! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 13,885k as of ch.3 ꒱ Masterlist 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩
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CHAPTER THREE: CHOKE
Day One (?)
Metallic rust.
That's all you could taste when you awoke from your drugged slumber, the world stuck in a haze as you hummed in discontent. 
Where the hell am I?
The thought muddled in your head as you attempted to gauge your surroundings. The numbness in your limbs from earlier had been replaced with a new sensation - your body feeling too heavy for your bones to carry. 
Did someone strap a weight to your shoulders and ankles? 
You rotate your head sluggishly to see an all white and gray room, one singular door directly ahead of where you sat. There's a metal table in the corner with a few machines - you can't seem to determine what their purposes are. On your left, a surgical instruments table sits ominously, a few bloody bandages and an empty syringe splayed across it.
There's a sudden pulse in your head that rattles your brain, the train of thought you had derailing instantly. Glimpses of memories begin to spark in your mind - Bakugo's anguished expression as you drifted out of consciousness, an unknown number of hands removing your hero suit and belongings, cold steel of an operating table touching your bare skin, the ungodly amount of poking and prodding of your delicate skin with needles of all shapes and sizes, and a glass enclosure.
How are you remembering all of this if you weren't even conscious for the majority of it?
As if to answer your silent question, a doctor enters the room - what you presume is a doctor, anyways, by the looks of his white surgeon coat and stethoscope around his neck. 
"Good morning. Would you prefer the use of your hero name or first name?" He asks, paging through the file on his clipboard.
What the fuck?
"Uhh...hero name?" you slur as you answer, voice cracking with exhaustion. You're not able to think straight in the moment and have zero adrenaline to be combative. 
"Noted. How are you feeling?" His tone is dry, like every other doctor you've met in your life.
"Shitty."
He quirks an eyebrow. "Can you elaborate?"
God, this is so annoying. Why the hell are you being interrogated?
"M'everything feels...funny. Heavy but also...fuzzy?"
He scribbles down notes on a few different pages, flipping back and forth through the stack on his clipboard. 
"Is it my turn t'ask a question?" you quip, snickering at your own request. 
He approaches you hastily and slaps the ever-loving shit out of you. You let out a sharp yelp, the sting of his palm radiating on your cheek. 
"Subjects only speak when spoken to."
A chill runs down your spine when he uses the term "subjects." Just how many of you are there?
"Return her to containment," he orders, signaling to someone behind you before turning to exit the room. Another man enters as the doctor leaves, dressed in white scrubs with mint green latex gloves. He approaches you, latching a pair of handcuffs around your wrists while turning off a device nearby.
"C'mon, move it," he scolds as he yanks on the chain of the handcuffs. You stumble forward to your feet, wobbling on jelly legs as he's dragging you behind him. Looking down, your wrists were littered with bruises in varying shades of yellow, purple and green. Had they cuffed you earlier and roughhoused you? A few raw spots on your arm lead you to believe they had taken blood from you at some point, too. You have zero inclination to how long you've even been wherever the hell you are - anything is possible.
The mystery worker drags you down multiple corridors of dimly lit metal hallways and various steel lacing the walls. There were no windows in sight as you maneuvered your way around the labyrinth of never-ending laboratories, holding cells and various medical exam rooms. He stops in front of a frosted glass cell, swiping a keycard in front of the mechanism on the door. It opens with a high pitched beep and he pushes you inside, whipping you around by the shoulders to face him. He undoes your restraints before slamming the glass door shut, locking it with another beep of the keycard. 
With the silence comes the realization of your current predicament, crashing down around you like a tidal wave. It's intense, the surge of emotion that cascades through your entire body as if someone flipped a switch inside you. 
One lingering thought pulls at your heartstrings - Bakugo's face as you slipped away from him, his panic and desperation as he failed to save you.
And to top it all off, you told him you loved him. 
In the heat of the moment, it felt right. But now? It feels selfish. You admitted your feelings just in time for them to be ripped away from him. You don't even know if you're going to see him ever again. What if you die down here?
Oh. 
What if you die down here?
Alone and scared.
Away from your family, friends...Katsuki, your best friend - the secret love of your life. 
You never got to kiss him, properly express your affection for him - the experience was stolen away from you.
You're left to your own devices inside an unknown cell, blubbering on the tiny cot in the corner, frustration burning in your chest as you're heaving sob after sob. It triggers something in you never felt before - an unfamiliar violent rage. Launching up from the cot, you snivel as you face the wall and punch it with all the energy you can gather. 
"Fuck!" You wail, failing to recollect the memory that your still under the effect of the quirk suppressant. The sound of your knuckles smashing against the steel wall reverbs as it sends lightning bolts of pain up your arm, dissolving as the adrenaline makes its way through your entire being.
And then something terrifying stirs in your guts as the blood drips from your knuckles onto the floor.
The pain was satisfying.
Day Nine
Days have passed, that much you knew, but how many? That answer remained unclear, no matter how many times you begged various workers around the compound. No one ever answered you with words, just violence. You’ve lost count how many times you’ve been slapped, kicked, and pushed around for engaging in minimal conversation. There’s other prisoners here, too, but no one is allowed to communicate. You see each other sometimes in the hallways but never long enough to speak, even if you wanted to. It was like everyone was a ghost, all haunting the same burial ground.
Shockingly enough, they keep you fed and allowed one shower per day. It's a confusing system, considering how inhumane things have proven to be, but you're convinced it's to keep their subjects "healthy" for their fucked up experiments. 
Your schedule consisted of a hellish rotation of broken sleep and taking whatever drugs they forced upon you. The amount of times you were pulled from your cell varied for their trials that they had planned for the day. Whether it be once, or four times, you never knew how many hours you'd be stuck under surveillance in a catatonic state. 
You desperately tried to turn your emotions off to protect your psyche at any chance you could. As much as you hated to admit defeat, the endless stress and over dosage of unknown substances was more than enough to keep you underwater, sinking further toward rock bottom with each passing moment.
A guard stalks up to your cell and bangs on the glass to grab your attention.
“Y/H/N, your cooperation is needed for test 15. Up and at ‘em.” 
Your body is burdened with all the medical trauma you've endured over the last few days, slowing your pace to a sluggish limp as you make your way toward the cell door. 
"Hurry it up, subject. We ain't got all day!" he shouts, startling you with his sudden command.
Fuck this place.
Day Fourteen
"Test 23, Y/H/N - Forced kinetic energy release. Begin testing."
You don't have time to react before the IVs hooked to you begin to force various fluids into your veins. The competing sensations flood through you in rough currents - hot, cold, burning, stinging in cycles. A well-known tunnel vision begins to cloud your sight as you squirm in the steel throne you've been restrained to. You're body is on the verge of passing out when an intrusive illusion appears before you.
"Hello? Sweetie?" 
Your mother appears in front of you, outstretching a phantom hand to touch your shoulder. 
What the fuck...mom? How is she here right now?
"Are you coming home?" she asks, her face settled in a deadpan expression. Her voice resembles a computerized AI, as if someone is programming her dialog.
"Mom?" you speak aloud, frightened by how real this looks and feels.
"Honey? Are you coming home? Katsuki and Izuku need you."
"Mom, I'm right here. What do you mean?" You're becoming more and more disturbed as she continues to drone on the same question.
"When are you coming home? Katsuki and Izuku need help."
She's not real.
She's not really here - this shadow knows nothing. 
Snap the fuck out of it, they must have drugged you with a hallucinogenic. 
But why? What the hell does this have to do with quirk suppressants? 
"You're not here," you growl, screwing your eyes shut, refusing to entertain anymore of this apparition of your mother. 
"Oh, but honey, I am!"
What?
A force squeezes at your throat, cutting off an anxious breath as it leaves your lips. You scramble to grasp at the hallucination, forgetting you're trapped in the testing chamber and can't move. Your hands are flexing repeatedly under the shackles as energy is collecting in your palms, unable to control the emotional response racing through every nerve in your body.
They must have not given you the suppressant...or mixed it with something more deadly. 
"No!" You croak, your scream choked out by the pressure on your neck. 
Your vision turns white, a sudden surge of energy expelling from your palms, pulsing intensely over and over again. You can feel the impact against the chair beneath you, the sound of shredding metal filling your ears as kinetic energy is forcibly pouring out of you in succession.
"Cease testing, inject sedation."
The pain in your hands dissipates immediately upon hearing the doctor's orders, followed by the prick of a thick needle penetrating the crook of your neck. The white cast in your vision fades, reality returning to you as your eyes glass over. One of the scientist walks around the chair and stands before you with another goddamn clipboard. 
"Y/H/N, please describe how you feel and what you saw."
That familiar fire returns in your chest from your first night here - the aggressive urge to lash out. Was this a side-effect of whatever serum they've been loading you up with?
"Fuck you," you snarl, lip quivering as you're attempting to bury the ferocity thrashing inside you, begging to be set free.
He approaches you and snatches your cheeks in a rough hold. His grip tightens around your jaw as he repeats his question. 
"One more time - Y/H/N, describe how you feel and what you saw."
The flame burns hotter as your fists are trembling, the emotion becoming overbearing.
Before you can stop yourself, your palms shoot up into an offensive position, sparking with the remaining collective of kinetic energy as it bursts forward, striking the scientist and sending him tumbling backward. The bonds on the arms of the chair must have broken and freed your hands during the test - you didn't even notice until you attacked the guard. 
Shit.
"Quirk handcuffs and solitary - stat," orders the doctor over the surround system. 
The door to the room slams open and three more scientists scramble inside as they're rushing to surround you. One shoves you down harshly into the metal chair, bouncing your head off the back of it. 
Black…everything goes black.
When you come to, you’re in a new room that you don’t recognize. It’s different from the one you’ve called “home” since your arrival. There’s a mirror in the cell they’ve thrown you in and you catch a glimpse of yourself for the first time in...you don't know how long. The reflection shows you someone you don’t recognize - the girl staring back at you isn’t you. It looks like you, but her vicious predatory grin is bone chilling. This doppelgänger glares daggers at you, tilting her head menacingly as she mouths, “get out of me.”
You throw a punch at the mirror and shatter it as a blood curdling scream erupts from deep in your gut. Stumbling to the floor, you lay on the cold concrete and stare into the blank space of the solitary prison cell. You can’t even will yourself to cry.
I wanna go home…I wanna go home… 
The thought recycled on loop, taunting the strength of your mental state.
I want to go home to mom, to Izuku, to Katsuki…anywhere but here. 
You need to survive...
No. You will survive. 
This will not kill you. 
Day Twenty Five
"Y/H/N, we are going to proceed with a psychological evaluation."
Like you had a choice in the matter.
“Can you describe your experience from test 23?”
“Horrible,” you groan, the vision of your mother flowing to the forefront of your memory. “I saw a hallucination of someone that could physically touch me.”
You’ve learned in your time here not to ask further questions - answer as plainly as possible and move on. 
The scientist clacked the keys on her laptop obnoxiously. “And it felt real?”
Unfortunately, yes.
“Yes.” You turn your eyes to the floor as she proceeds to type whatever nonsense into the database. She retrieves a clipboard from the bag slung on the back of her chair, sliding it across the table to you. 
"Can you confirm this report is accurate from your initial intake?"
You begin to scan over the form when the words "if you want to get out of here" catch your attention.
Y/N
Y/H/N
Subject 57 - Kinetic Energy
Do not speak or react this note, until specified, if you want to get out of here.
...What?
I'm an undercover hero from the United States. I've been here for six months, waiting for an officially ranked hero to come through the facility. I haven't been able to leave since my arrival and communication has been cut off from my agency. You're the first non-civilian they've captured. 
Blink four times if you had a cellphone on you when you were taken. 
You look up at her and blink four times - she shoots her eyes back down to the form, signaling you to continue reading. 
Can you contact outside help? Could be the agency you belong to or co-workers.
Tap the table twice for yes and three times for no.
You tap the table twice, pretending to point to specific information on the page your reading. If you could get access to your cellphone, you might just be able to send your location to initiate a rescue mission.
"Thank you, Y/H/N," she says, grabbing the clipboard and returning it to her bag. "I'll take you back to your cell, follow me."
Following the standard protocol that you're used to, she slaps a pair of handcuffs around your wrists before exiting the room. Once you reach your cell, she steps inside with you, removing the cuffs and motioning for you to come closer.
"I can look in the evidence chamber for your phone, more than likely it's in there with the other belongings after your decontamination process. Workers aren't allowed any communication devices, but they keep all of the captor's personal items guarded in one place." 
You don't have time to ask her all the questions you're dying to know the answers to - how'd she get here, how did the USA know of the lab, what her undercover work consisted of, why no  one came to find her...a plethora of unknowns. 
But right now? She's willing to help you, that's all that matters.
"If you can conjure up enough energy with your quirk, can you charge it?" she asks faintly. 
You nod in response, confirming the answer silently. Similarly to your classmate from UA, Kaminari, you were able to charge devices by converting kinetic energy into an electronic wavelength - a trick Eraserhead taught you back in Junior year. 
"Here's the plan - In five days, I'll be the guard on night shift. I'll give you an empty shot of the suppressant to make it look like a realistic dosage. Once the others have dissipated to their quarters, I can lead you to the evidence stash and let you rummage through the bins while I keep watch. You grab the phone, I'll hide it in my uniform, bring you back to your cell and toss it to the floor. I'll patrol the hall while you get things set up and make contact with another hero or your agency."
She peers out of the glass cell and sees another guard making his way down the hall. 
"Don't say a word. I'll be back in 5 days, and I'm sorry for what I'm about to do," she apologizes as she cracks you on the jaw with a hearty slap.
You know she had to fake it in front of the other guard to keep her cover - it still hurt like hell.
She shuts the door with a noisy clang of the door's mechanism, a high pitched beep locking it in place. 
And thus, the countdown to freedom begins.
Five days until you finally make contact with the outside world - with someone.
Someone? No, you already knew who you were sending the information to - like it wasn't obvious who you'd choose to signal for help.
Day Twenty Nine
You've come this far, you can't back down now. 
All you had to do was make your way back to the evidence room with the undercover hero lady, find your phone, and sneak back to your holding cell. 
And force your quirk to activate. 
...and not get caught.
The suspense of the plan succeeding was enough to keep you on edge as the nightly sedations were distributed. She appeared, just like she promised, and administered a fake injection to your arm. You put on a front for the other guards, fooling them into thinking you were properly medicated. 
The plan's been set in motion - she'll be back in a few hours.
Day Thirty
You could feel the liberation in your grasp - the victory of sneaking your phone back to your cell filling you with exhilaration. All you had to do was wait for lights out to attempt your escape plan. You have no idea how deep the lab sits under Sector 42 and if you'll even be able to obtain a signal in your cell.
Focusing all of your willpower into the tip of your pointer finger, you hold it closely as sparks of energy softly crackle into the charging port of the phone. 
Just a minute to charge, that's all I need. Enough battery to turn it on, send a call and a text and turn it back off.
You're beginning to feel lightheaded as your phone successfully powers on with a soft vibration and the logo appearing on screen. 
Holy shit, it worked!
Hurriedly, you flip the silent switch before notifications begin to pour into the device, catching up on all the missed communications over the last month. Multiple calls, text messages, e-mails, the standard amount that you expected. The battery hovered at 7% and the time read 3:05AM. You glance at the date underneath the time - it's been an entire month since you disappeared. 
A whole goddamn month.
There's no time to spiral over that right now!
Hunched over behind your cot, you proceed to open your messages to keep your plan on track. You're not shocked by the amount of missed texts from everyone; Midoriya, Jiro, Uraraka, Kirishima, Mina...and Bakugo.
You had 127 unread texts from him, the last coming in less than ten minutes ago.
One hundred and twenty seven.
You freeze, a mixture of guilt, excitement, and panic surging through you. Shoving all that down - you've gotten too good at doing that - you clicked on the thread, catching the last dozen or so of his messages.
[2:45AM] i don’t want to say this in a fucking text of all things [2:45AM] especially under these circumstances  [2:46AM] but i’m scared i’ll never get to say it to you [2:46AM] i’m a fucking idiot for not telling you sooner [2:47AM] god dammit [2:48AM] i love you [2:48AM] like a stupid fucking amount [2:49AM] i convinced myself i didn’t and that you wouldn’t feel the same [2:50AM] and when you come home [2:50AM] i’ll tell you every damn day to make up for all the times i didn’t [2:51AM] that’s a promise [2:52AM] i love you lite-brite
Tears are silently falling from your eyes, wide with astonishment at the words you're reading from him. There's no way this is real - you've got to be strung out from the quirk-drugs they've forced upon you. A delayed side effect of some sort? They've given you delusions in the past, it's not that farfetched. 
He convinced himself not to love you? He's always loved you?! 
He said 'I love you,' twice.
Twice!
You don't have time to read the rest as much as you're dying to catch up on all the potential sweet nothings he's sent to you over the last few weeks, but you do have time for one thing.
Before you chicken out, you click the "Call" button next to his name. The phone suddenly feels like a cinderblock in your hand as you shakily hold it to your ear. You think he's not going to answer until you hear faint rustling sounds on the other end of the line.
"H-hello?! Y/N!?" You can't say anything - your body straightens, goosebumps covering you from head to toe. All of the misery you were holding on to, the trauma and terror, evaporated at the sound of those two words. Those two measly words wrapped around you and offered a warmth you haven't known in weeks.
You click the "End Call" button, hating that you probably gave him a heart attack, but you selfishly needed to hear his voice. 
Before you forget your initial plan, you send a pinned location to Bakugo. You know he'll come running - blasting, rather - as soon as he can pinpoint exactly how to break into the lab. You have zero doubts that he can't figure it out.
[3:11AM] *location sent*
One last thing for good measure? You send an orange heart emoji. 
Right as you're about to scroll up and read his past messages, your phone powers down with the empty battery symbol displaying on screen.
Your heart is racing, threatening to beat out of your chest as his words reverberate in your mind. 
I love you like a stupid fucking amount.
You can't help but chuckle at the sentiment - that's so Bakugo of him to say. 
At least your plan was a success and you were able to accomplish the small goal. Now all you have to do is play the waiting game - knowing Bakugo, and presumably Midoriya? That won't be long at all.
You lay back in your cot, smiling for the first time in ages, relishing in your triumph. 
And for the first night since you've arrived, a peaceful rest welcomes you with open arms. You dream of home, running in the park under the glow of the sun and finding Bakugo under the shade of a nearby tree, waiting patiently for you in the summer breeze. 
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next up, we wrap back to the boys as they plan their rescue mission! and they're not going alone as they recruit their closest friends in their crazy plan to get you back. and don't worry, it won't be easy. tags: @bakugouswaif @k1tk4tkatsuki @bells2319 @st0nedbitch @deftonianfr ✩ if you’d like to be tagged when updates are posted, message/comment to be added! ✩
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minticecodes · 7 months
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A (late) piece for dmcweek2024 day 4! I was buzzing to put forward something for the week. Prompt was alt universe.
AU where Eva survived the fire and had to figure out a way forward, believing the twins dead. She becomes an RPG shopkeeper selling wares ranging from antique books to magical goods (Devil May Scry). She's also out for Mundus' blood.
Image descriptions are the same as in alt.
[ID: 7 Digital illustrations and sketches. 1: Coloured illustration of a bookshop at sunset. Eva, a pale blonde middle aged woman mans the bright patterned counter. She wears a turtleneck and red shawl, has shoulder length hair, and diagonal facial burn scar and scarring on her left hand. Light rays illuminate her gently smiling face. Besides packed books, on the shelves are potion bottles, statuettes, succulents, and a displayed katana. Roses and plants decorate the shop. On the counter are a thick hardback, bookscanner, and crystal ball. Cards are displayed inside the counter. On the wall hangs a price sign, featuring doodled vital stars (large star drawn with sunglasses), holy water and fortunes. Beneath it is a rose wreathed divinity statue display, with 2 red orb offerings in a dish. 2: Eva from behind, sitting hunched alone at a table where a birthday cake sits untouched. It's a two flavour cake. By her clenched hand are crumpled tissues. Caption: 'Vergil...Dante...happy birthday...' 3: Eva bracing the Devil Sword Sparda across her shoulders, aimed at the ground. She wears a bell sleeved, ruffled funeral/wedding dress with a slit for leg movement. A veil trails behind her like a ribbon. Close ups of her show the headpiece design; a pacifier made of a long bird skill, feather, rose, and four skeletal 'legs'. 4 & 5: Trish taking on teen Dante's image: a tan teen in black, with chin length white hair, a halter neck tank top, leather pants, kneelength boots and black polish. Her leather jacket collar resembles lightning bolts. She leans against an invisible wall, one leg bent to brace her foot against it. She looks askance with arched brows, lifting shades from her face. The 2nd image is a 3/4 profile with shades perched on her forehead and popped collar. 6: Helmetless portraits of Dante and Vergil in armour, expressionless. Dante's hair is shoulder length and falls across his face. 7: Full body of 2 somewhat lanky demonic knights. One (Nelo Angelo) in black and blue with droopy horns rests his palms atop his blue broadsword's pommel, the sword upright against the ground. He stands straight, staring ahead. The other in white and red and curled horns has a palm clapped on Nelo Angelo's shoulder, other hand at his hips. Somehow the eyes on his helmet express playfulness. At his back is the hilt to a flail, the spiked ball resting on the ground by his armoured heels. They're labelled '~16' . End ID.]
Read more for some wordy backstory and sketches. TW for mentions of torture, abuse and solitary confinement surrounding the twins.
I had...so many more ideas that I'm leaving out to keep this short. It's fun to think how she'd mesh with the cast.
Like! her and Lady. Mother that lost her kid and kid that lost her mother. It writes itself how much unwitting projection can go wrong. And pretty much everything about her, the twins, and Trish :)
In terms of backstory:
After the fire she's alone. Her birth family disowned her long ago. She thinks about revamping the mansion but the idea of staying in that empty space with only memories for company is too much. So she eventually opens a small store.
Starts off paranoid and distant. Still is distant but gets entangled with the local community overtime. Greets people by name and they'll chat about how life has been going. This includes demon hunters and demons and supernatural beings living peacefully; her shop becomes a small safe haven to exchange information to stay safe.
Gets very good at forging protective charms. Haunted by the memory of the enchanted closet, smashed in and empty.
A regular is a schoolgirl who originally came to pick up reserved books for her father but stuck around because hey, this place is quiet and interesting, and the owner serves stellar teacakes. Great place to study. To Mary, Eva's kind, though odd, secretive and a little lonely.
I got inspired by Eva's association with the bangle/bracelet of time and the amulets for her fighting style. It's based around item crafting, like an RPG character slapping on every stat boosting item.
She stitches together different outfits for different needs Cardcaptor style. They're all exceedingly dramatic. It's not clear here but I wanted a bird motif to eventually come through. Phoenix motif, really.
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[ID: Rough sketches: A magician esque outfit with vest, feathered tophat and cape. A longcoat with long skirt and long scarf at her back like a cape. The cape is tagged with 'spells stitched into fabric'. Close ups on the coat lapel show two pins (strawberry and wing), labelled 'charm lapel pins.' Close up of the shoes show sharp heals and ankle bracelets. Eva leaping in a black bodysuit and leotard, with feathery collar, quill behind her ear, and ballet shoes with a claw at the heel. Eva making a triangular 2 hand sign in a hooded cloak and longskirt. Around her shoulders are claws. At her hips is an hourglass. Above her heeded head is a clocklike halo. Beside her is a sketch of a woman with a lionhead mask. A funeral and wedding dress inspired outfit. Eva crouches, wielding the Devil Sword Sparda in scythe form. Her face is covered by a tattered veil. She wears a knee length ruffled dress, black gloves, and a long, ruffled cape. Close up of her left hand shows a ring and finger claws Rough comic. Chibi lady talks to chibi Eva. Lady holds up a black body suit with billowing sleeves and a cleavage window. Lady: "Eva what is this" Eva (smiling cheerfully): "Oh - that old thing!" Eva: "My old hunting outfit. Gosh I'd almost forgotten about it. Not the most comfortable thing - so skin tight..." However Lady fixates on 'my old hunting outfit'. The words go in one ear and come out as a younger Eva in a catsuit, pointing a gun with a serious expression, wind blowing through her hair. Lady stares into the distance, bewildered, and slightly blushing. End ID]
Meanwhile the twins are having a terrible time but they have each other, even if they don't remember they're brothers. I think it'd be sweet if they have a bond anyway. Everyone else thinks they're rivals at best.
(Nelo is Mundus' favourite to toy with as the proud, eldest son. But when he gets rough, Bianco butts in and acts up for Mundus' attention. This gets him sent to solitary confinement; Mundus figured out Bianco hates small spaces and designed an iron maiden for him. Others think Bianco is a brute who acts out for a fight. But that's ok. It means Bianco can keep buying Nelo time.) (When lucid, Nelo despises his own weakness when this happens.)
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[ID: 2 Images. Nelo and Bianco Angelo in fisticuffs in a cartoony dustcloud, glaring at each other as they fight. They're captioned 'Mundus' most competent generals'. Additional text: 'silent, obedient, crushing force when apart. Perfect soldiers. ... until they're put together. Complement each other's battle style OR clash terribly. Nelo Angelo staring off, arms crossed and furrowed eyes somehow expressing being completely fed up. Behind him, Bianco and Griffin talk at each other. Griffin's glaring. Bianco has a hand up to gesture. End ID]
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recycledraccoon · 4 months
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Quick! I'm from the future!! I need your inkblade headcanons or scenarios or the universe will implode!
Ok ok, I can do this. I can answer this ask without going out of control. I can be normal about this, I can.
I don't have very many hardset headcanons, but more vibes that rise and fall like the tide. Oisin's fins/head-crest flare out ramrod straight and the spines turn as purple as his face if he's blushing hard enough. I will die on this hill. Oisin's non-verbal emotions are actually really easy to pick up on if he's too distracted to keep them tightly in control. A thick dragonborn tail lashing back and forth like an outlet for Emotions That Are Too Big can be really inconvenient in a highschool hallway. The rise and fall of his fins/head-crest are MUCH harder to hide however. Oisin also smells perpetually of petrichor, and it drives Adaine insane.
1. I think Oisin's crush started softly, and with indescribable longing, probably before he ever knew who she was. Freshman year, a Thursday Intro To Glyphs class. He doesn't know or talk to her at all, just a face in a class he has that he barely notices. So he's not falling for her quite yet.
I think he first fell in love in the way one does when you see a stranger sitting across from you on the public bus or train. The sunlight hit her hair and he couldn't take his eyes off suddenly. Maybe he saw her smiling and laughing with her friends, maybe she was rolling her eyes at them with her nose scrunched up just a little in faint judgement, maybe he can't even remember because while walking past in the hallway he had been so dumb-struck for a second he walked face first into an open locker door to Ivy's absolute confusion. (She does laugh at him mercilessly, even if he won't say why he walked into it.)
It's a moment of "I don't know you, you don't know me, but for one unfathomably long moment I wanted nothing more than to imagine a life lived that included basking near you and your smile every day until I die."
Unrealistic right? Just a passing stranger, this isn't a love story, it's an average Tuesday and Oisin has homework and an appointment with his party in the forest after school.
He gathers his bearings and moves on, and if his mind wanders back to the girl in the hall who had captivated him to lethal effect? Well it's a pleasant memory for him and he thinks that's allowed, right?
Except she's in his Glyph class two days later, he realizes, and suddenly that hallway moment of longing rushes back until his entire face is purple and he's trying not to stare at the occasionally stuttering but brilliant wizard girl two rows ahead in class.
1a. I think Oisin continued to take Glyph classes at first because he hoped she would too. Adaine doesn't, but Oisin continues because he is good at them and enjoys it and it's certainly easier to learn when he's not distracted in class 70% of the time.
2. As Oisin gets older, more and more of his dragonic nature becomes apparent. It's like a second puberty happening concurrently with normal puberty, which means it's a rollercoaster nightmare for him and the High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders.
2a. Dragons have hoards, but not all dragons hoard the same things, even within their own subclasses. Still, Oisin has quite a few gems and jewels in his fledgling hoard, despite not knowing what he most wants to hoard, and if his favorite gem just so happens to be one that reminds him of the shade of blue in a particular elven girl's eyes then-
2b. Oisin also has a deep fondness for rain and storms. He always knows if it's incoming even if it's not in the forecast. Something primal in him connects to the raging skies, for good or ill. It makes him feel confident and powerful. He also considers it very romantic. Unfortunately, Adaine gets so cross with him anytime she hears him predict a storm coming, even if he's talking to literally anyone else. (Adaine thinks Oisin is a storm himself, and if she is not careful she will be like the last Oracle and have forgotten to stock up on water breathing spells and drown in him amidst the storm of his being.)
2c. Dragons also hold great respect for power and prowess. Physical fights for hierarchy, play, or even courtship are very normal. For all that they are sentient brilliant beings, Dragons are still wild, untameable, primal things. This lurks underneath all of them, good or evil. Some are just more adept at hiding it. For courtship, this comes into play as sizing the other up. Both sides are looking to find out whether or not the other has any worth as a long term partner who would need to help guard the nest. Protecting eggs and hoards from greedy adventurers is serious business. There are reasons there aren't many truly ancient dragons. Too large a discrepancy in strength can sometimes be a turn off for the stronger one, so the most successful courtships are usually of similarly strong dragons, or at least, ones that put up enough of a fight despite the gap.
c1. Oisin, seeing the great accomplishments and prowess of Adaine Abernant over the course of Freshman year, feels a deep stirring even before he's rage-starred. He wants to fight her so badly, to sling magic and bloody teeth until the raging beast inside is sated. Naturally this scares him at first, and Oisin REFUSES to seek Adaine out to talk because of it, because the teen boy part of himself wants something kind, soft and tender between them, while the dragon making itself known as he ages wants to prove itself strong to her.
Later, he will tell himself this urge was ENTIRELY because he'd been on the path towards being contaminated-then-consumed with rage and wanted the Bad Kids dead. Absolutely not because it's the first step in traditional dragon courtship. He just wants to prove himself to her. He wants to feel for himself the confirmation of her renowned battle prowess. This is all for purely rival-related reasons, he tells himself. He is, perhaps, a bit of a liar.
3. Adaine's crush, not just her thinking he's cute but her actual legitimate crush on him, actually starts when the Rat Grinders are being redeemed post-Junior Year.
Like, she hates his GUTS. He made her feel belittled and stupid during Junior year, and yes they kicked his and his friends asses, but also now they just have to deal with them still being around. (Yes this is how they made friends with Ragh too, but they're petty.)
Except...so now they have to spend time together, maybe in classes maybe because Lucy loves her friends despite everything but is also now a friend of The Bad Kids. The former Rat Grinders are CLEARLY trying so hard to be better and kinder, but still the parties are mingling and there is tension but its also so fucking funny.
So Adaine and Oisin's interactions is just a montage of them being assholes to each other. Oisin can be polite and respectable, funny even, with everyone BUT Adaine apparently. Bickering about wizard things, taunting cutting words, and Adaine repeatedly trying to punch his smug face whenever he gets too close while gloating if he's right about something.
3a. Adaine literally tells Aelwyn that while she wants and needs kindness, she does acknowledge that it's messed up that she wishes someone was a little mean to her sometimes. This rivalry with Oisin is NOT WHAT SHE MEANT!!!!!! (the monkey paw curls)
3b. The worst part, is no matter how much Adaine hates Oisin, is that it doesn't stop him from being attractive. Oh sure, she thinks he's an absolute asshole when he's sitting across from her in the library, but......
He's still absurdly tall, with large arms that are for more than just show. The conjuration tattoos are both practical and very pleasing to the eye, the almost electric blue of them a pleasing contrast to the softer blue shade of his scales.
The contradiction of those large round spectacles resting on his snout makes him look just dorky enough to go from being just another buff guy to being....well. Unfortunately, the glasses also do nothing to shield Adaine from the weight of his gaze.
When he looks at her with his full attention, behind those glasses are eyes of molten gold, and trained solely on her that gaze feels searing hot wherever it lands.
3c. Or perhaps, the worst part is she despises how he laughs. Sometimes, when she says something as clever as it is cutting, Oisin throws his head back just a little to laugh, bright and warm, all while his throat rumbles. It must be something draconic in nature, like a strong purr or distant rain clouds. It's much harder to get him to make that particular sound when he laughs, and the rumble feels unfairly like victory. Like she cracked the careful fascade he puts up to pretend like he's not a dragon.
The rumble also feels particularly reminiscent of butterflies in her stomach. (She elects to ignore this part.)
4. Oisin is a dragon, and he is a little obsessed with Adaine even if he doesn't dare to dream of going on an actual date with her after everything from the previous year. He cannot imagine a world where she would ever again believe him to be genuine in affection or intention towards romantic feelings. No instance of genuine fluster could ever be seen as anything but a clever ruse, he tells himself, he certainly wouldn't believe it if it was him.
But he's got her attention now, and he is possessive of that, of what he CAN get. Even if she hates his guts and pointblank threatens to kill him if he steps out of line-
Even if it's because she hates him, Oisin still has her eyes on him. Eyes like clear skies before the rolling storm, like they can pierce through everything he is and will ever be and know the truth of it.
Every conversation is like a battle, a verbal sparring that he TELLS himself is nothing at all like the courtship fights, but oh how sweet does it sound to his inner dragon. She could be cussing him out and he could feel like his heart would burst from his chest from the affection he feels, even as he riles her up further, until she slips into saccharine elven curses that he can practically taste on his forked tongue.
4a. Once he tosses back a clever jape in draconic at her. When she immediately starts in on him with the gutteral words of his native tongue, perfectly fluent but lilted ever so slightly like a refined melody, his tail accidentally knocks over a chair and his crest flares so strongly that he KNOWS his face must be more purple than a ripe plum. He's lost a battle and her laughter at the way he flees claiming he forgot something haunts him for days. He tries to get revenge by whispering things under his breath at her in Elvish, and her glare is divine, but it's so risky because she might just start talking to him draconic again and Oisin fears he could live a thousand years and still not be able to handle the sound of it when it falls from her lips.
a1. It's a lost cause. Adaine has a weakness now, and she wields it with all the precision she's developed on a battlefield. It's the cutest surest way to put him in his place, rile him up with the same burning fire that he seems so expert in stirring up in her. Oh he might try to argue back in draconic, or even throw a taunt out in Elvish, but he always stalks off first. (He makes the refined, posh but ancient language of Elvish sound like something Tracker would appreciate. He makes it sound ever so slightly wild, like something else is lurking behind all the refinery. Adaine is well practiced in steadying her breathing, and Oisin always cracks first.)
5. Everyone has seen these two bicker back and forth, and everyone knows trying to get them to stop or get between them means the two turn as a united front against whoever interrupted, and that's honestly worse.
5a. The Bad Kids and High Five Heroes/Rat Grinders have an ongoing bet amongst themselves on on if the two will snap and legitimately murder each other, or snap and start making out in the library. It's honestly way too elaborate of a betting system with odds changing all the time, but it is actually probably the most fun, non-tense bonding the two groups have together. They have also gone to GREAT LENGTHS to keep it secret from the two wizards, especially when one of them is the fucking ORACLE.
6. It's not all bickering and scathing words. Sometimes, when nobody else is around to see behind this precarious curtain...its soft and tender too.
6a. Sometimes, when Adaine is genuinely having a bad day and feels one wrong moment from truly snapping, she feels the magic of a conjured summon passing by whatever table or nook she stowed herself away to hide in. The smell of arcane-tinted petrichor lingers afterwards, and settled nearby is a warm drink that hadn't been there before. Sometimes its tea's she's fond of, sometimes a warm peppermint mocha from her favorite coffee place downtown. Against her better judgement, she is increasingly fond of the smell of rain. 6b. Sometimes, the rage feels like it never left Oisin's body. It burns him inside and out, and he's so exhausted fighting back these aftershocks. He is trying every day to make up for what he's done, but the feeling of unbridled rage haunts him. To indulge is to fail, fall off the wagon, and he will not falter, even if he squeezes his hands so tightly they bleed beneath his claws. A message cantrip blooms to life in his mind. Melodic, lilted draconic, giving not words of comfort, but familiar unafraid taunts. It's a challenge, he knows it, and somehow that makes it easier, rage giving way to fondness and the desire to prove himself. 6c. There are more late nights in libraries and sitting close at tables in out of the way restaurants working on difficult projects then either would ever let anyone know, not that they let anyone know of them at all. It's quiet honest conversations over dusty tomes and scattered papers. (They couldn't know how to make the most cutting of remarks if they knew nothing about each other, after all.) a1. Its Oisin, laying his head down in his arms over the library table, eyes watching her sitting next to him with hair falling in her face like it always does when shes bent forward focusing intently on her work. There are many, many times when Oisin does nothing but watch in silence. Sometimes, rarely, when its late and nobody will come by except to kick them out- He reaches a claw to gingerly tuck the silken gold hair behind the bright red ear of a girl who doesn't say anything about it, before he looks away entirely, trying to ignore the way he can feel his crest fluttering up and down as it seemingly contemplates flaring out.
a2. It's Adaine, rolling her eyes with no heat, as she steps into his personal space and is enveloped in the smell of petrichor. Calloused fingers lingering on rough scales as she ever so gently corrects a stance or spell casting motion that the unfairly tall dragonborn boy next to her had been working on perfecting.
The both know she doesn't have to be so close for this, that another demonstration from beside him would work just fine. He doesn't have to bend ever so slightly, dip his long draconian neck down so he can better hear her murmured words either, so close they can feel the heat of the others breath. He casts the spell perfectly, and Adaine steps back out to a respectable distance, and neither of them say anything about it.
7. Neither of them ever mention any of it. It feels taboo, like the triggering of a spell that will destroy both of them. The fighting, the bickering, the cutting words and sharp swords aimed at jugulars? That's easy, that's familiar and safe. It's what's supposed to happen between them, safe territory they can walk with eyes closed. It's the tenderness that's hard. It's the yearning and soft touches aborted at the last moment-
This is what would be their ruin, and the threat of it lingers above them, rolling clouds heavy with rain that just wont fall. Days, weeks, months pass by and they do not mention it.
8. Adaine, flush with Oracle-sure certainty, gestures for Oisin to slow down, to bend down low so she can tell him something. He protests, its about to rain any second and really Abernant, they're going to be late- Adaine kisses Oisin first, soft and sure as her hands cradle his scaled jaw, just as the dark clouds above them break open.
The kiss tastes like rain, and the loud, pleased rumble in her ears certainly isn't from the storm coming down on them.
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moonlightdreamzz · 2 years
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kill bill
part one
you return back to korea one year after you and hyunjin broke up, only to find out he has replaced you. how could he replace you?
→ g: all of it. the pain, the sexy, the happiness. angstsmutfluff! <3
🎧 ➤ kill bill by sza
warning! you’re a heartbroken bitter ex girlfriend here, although for a valid reason. party environment! mentions of (w**d) and alcohol, language, and infidelity!
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I'm so mature, I'm so mature
I'm so mature, I got me a therapist to tell me there's other men
I don't want none, I just want you
If I can't have you, no one should
it felt so, so good to scream these lyrics from the pit of your stomach. you imagine anyone that could hear you and felix passionately singing alongside sza had many questions, the first being; who hurt you? but, as always neither of you care in this moment. the two of you have finally finished cleaning up the dorm in preparation for changbin’s surprise birthday party; the only thing left to do now was decorate and get ready.
you have no idea where the rest of the members are, but who are you to ask questions? knowing your friend, he didn’t trust them to get the job done in time. they could be so damn silly sometimes, taking forever to do the simplest tasks. it was adorable watching their sad attempts to hold all their jokes and playful tendencies within. they failed every time.
felix, who is clearly exhausted from your early morning grind can’t help but to back into the wall and slide down to the wooden floors. he takes a deep breath before blowing upwards, causing the hair covering his forehead to lift ever so slightly.
“someone’s tired.” you chuckle, deciding to lay on the couch over the cold wood. you are so tempted to beg felix for a quick nap, but you know he’s gonna ridicule you for it if you do—in a friendly way of course. he has been talking about this party and how perfect it has to be for what felt like forever. you know deep down his real reasoning for being so prompt was because of who’s birthday it is.
“how can I truly be tired though, y/n?” his aussie accent is thick as he confesses his shame to you, “you came all the way here, landed early as hell in the morning with jet lag, and here you are cleaning with me. i need to get up.” just like that, felix has risen again and stretches his arms out before moving to start taking the decorations out the box.
he was always too hard on himself. “lix,” you coo, walking towards him and placing your hand on his shoulder gently, “getting rest is vital. even if for thirty minutes, why don’t you relax for a little bit? at least close your eyes?”
you can tell he’s considering it by the way his eyes look straight ahead into nothingness, but just as quick as the thought comes, it goes. he inhales deeply before continuing to take things from the huge brown box.
“i promise I’ll rest after this is all over. i just…i don’t want anything to mess up on my end.”
so, they really were all the same huh? those words trigger what feels like a thousand memories into your mind— all of someone you know you will have to see tonight. you were certain he has spoken that exact sentence to you on multiple occasions when you expressed how worried you were about his physical and mental health. you still have no idea what you’re going to say when the two of you eventually bump into each-other at this party.
you’re fidgeting now, and felix’s heart feels as if it wants to jump out of him for the day, but not because he was in love with you or anything. no, felix was incredibly guilty. he knows you’re thinking about his bandmate. you were always so…dazed when he was on your mind.
all day there has been this weird silence in the air between you and felix, which was abnormal to say the least. before you moved back home, you were two peas in a pod. your conversations could last for hours if you let it. all of the boys, but especially felix told you that they loved how free they felt around you. they loved how normal they felt in your presence. you didn’t know why it was such a bad thing, but apparently it was a sin here to have some fun.
the minutes keep passing by and felix has yet to utter a word to you. have things really changed this drastically since you left? was he angry at you for leaving? did you not check up on him enough?
“felix i—
“hyunjin has a new girlfriend!” he spits out as if there was a pistol on his scalp. the balloon he was blowing up flies from the machine, squealing as it tries to find a place to land. if there was a metaphor to describe what those words just did to you, it was that. you felt like a lifeless balloon. the tension in the room is so thick you feel like your throat is about to start closing on you.
your clear vision is now red, so much so, that you were certain your tears would be the same color if you weren’t fighting for your life to hold them in your tear ducts. you hate that even after a year, exactly a year by the way, that he still has so much control over your emotions.
“who?” are the only words you can manage.
felix thought that confessing to you would make him feel better, but as he watches you clearly refraining yourself from having a mental breakdown, he feels a thousand times worse. maybe he should have listened to changbin and chris when they told him to just let you see it. no—he was right. if you were going to hate him, he would rather you be able to say he warned you instead of you finding out from seeing hyunjin waltz in here with his new woman.
“some girl. she’s not famous, and I have no idea where he met her. i’m sorry, y/n. i know you’ve been going to therapy and everything and I just—I never wanted to trigger you. it’s still not an excuse I just—
“lix,” you finally breathe after what felt like days, even though it had only been a minute or two. “i’m not angry with you. how could I be?”
“because i’m your friend.”
“you’re his friend too.” is all you can muster. you know a look of defeat was prominent on your features, but you can’t fake it right now. it wasn’t worth it. you’re trying to push it down, but the rage is burning in the pit of your stomach. you looked so sane to the naked eye. upset? sure. pissed? maybe? but you were way more than those two emotions. you were heartbroken and livid all over again; a woman scorned. all you can hear in your mind right now is the last thing hyunjin uttered to you.
i will never be able to replace you. i need you to breathe. i love you. i’m so sorry. i’m sorry I failed you when I promised I never would.
you heard it in your dreams and nightmares what felt like every night. his voice cracked so clearly on the phone that night. he usually tried to be tough for you, pretending as if nothing could get to him, but not this time. he was so hysterical.
you believed him. you didn’t want to, but he was sobbing. or maybe your ego was big as fuck, and the thought of hyunjin unable to move on from you fed into your fantasy of him suffering without you. you hated that you felt this way, but it doesn’t matter now. it was all a lie.
“y/n.” you hear felix trying to snap you back to reality.
there’s a million things you want to say. you want to see her. you want to ask felix if hyunjin is as happy as he was with you. but you figure you’d save those questions for when he had to see you tonight. if he moved on genuinely, fine. but he was going to have to say it to your face.
“I’m cool.” you smile as if you hadn’t heard the news. you begin ripping the plastic off the decorations you assumed went on the wall based on their shape. you can feel felix’s doe eyes burn holes into you, but you learned a long time ago how to ignore that.
“you sure?” he questions in disbelief.
“positive. i just needed a minute to digest it. I’m good.”
the song you and felix had been shouting the lyrics to has replayed, neither you or Felix knowing the lyrics sza was singing beautifully would foreshadow what was to come later tonight.
I did it all for love
I did all of this on no drugs
I did all of this sober
Don't you know I did it all for us?
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fit pics; a necessity when going to any function, but especially when you want your ex to feel sick to their stomach.
yes, you are that girl that makes your friends take your pictures over and over again—hating them all. no, you are not ashamed. this was jisung’s fifth round of taking pics of you, and you are trying so hard to hold in your laughter at his frustration. he’s looking at you, and you know he hasn’t blinked or breathed—already knowing that you’re going to tell him you don’t like the twenty new pictures he’s placed in your camera roll.
“if you don’t like these, i don’t know what to tell you. you look mad good. stop acting like that.”
“you’re lucky I’m pleased.” you smirk, pushing him playfully, “this is the least you can do for the many years you’ve spent trolling my ass, or have you forgotten?”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he smirks back. his eyes attempt prove his innocence, but they fail and he can’t help but to push you back to play it off.
the music can be heard from outside of the dorms, and you have no idea how they are pulling this off tonight, but you never ask questions; you simply follow suit. you didn’t intend on missing the surprise, but jisung called you frantically saying that he was going to be late and that he would owe you if you pulled up alongside him. truth be told, you pretended that you were fine with being late because you loved him oh-so much, but in reality you wanted to make an entrance.
you wanted hyunijn to pace back and forth as his new girl got ready—heart practically beating out of his chest at the thought of having to see you. you knew he would arrive in preparation to say surprise! to his bandmate, subtly searching for you everywhere. obviously, you aren’t there, but he won’t know whether you are just in the bathroom, late, or not coming at all.
the time will continue to pass—but still no sign of you. his girl is there, so he won’t express his interest about your whereabouts out loud, but he will text felix wondering where you are. she’s coming, is all felix is going to respond, already receiving the text from you that you were running late to ride with jisung, but not wanting to spill your beans to your ex, regardless of the fact that he was hyunjin’s friend too.
you know his anxiety is going up and down right now. he’s probably not paying ole’ girl any attention because hyunjin knows. he fucking knows that any second now you will walk into that dorm and he’ll have to recall his last words to you. he’ll also have to see how damn fine you look tonight from head to toe. he’ll think of every single late night he tried to replace your body, but couldn’t. you love changbin so much, but he was crazier than you when it came to his lovers. he will understand. you also know he’s probably ten shots in by now, so if he was upset with you, the alcohol had drowned it away.
“come on.” jisung instructs. you’re surprised he’s not snapping in your face like everyone else does when you daze out. it had rained earlier, so the weather is perfect—not cold, but not hot. you and hyunjin love this kind of weather. if the two of you were still together, you’d probably be outside whispering sweet nothings to each-other while smoking a blunt and embracing the relaxing breeze that blew through the city.
you follow your friend, taking his hand that was extended out to you. he knows you too well. your anxiety was beginning to build up from the pit of your stomach. it always makes you feel sick and dizzy and you want to turn around and run off, but you can’t. your feet have began to hurt too—your boots although fashionable, never being the move when you were going to be standing for a long time.
“these are some of the trainees that’ll be in the next group.” jisung spills as you approach the entrance. you can’t tell whether they want to be here or not, but you can’t lie, this is adorable.
they greet the both of you respectfully—you, only because you were with their hyung, and the two of you step in promptly. immediately the smell of marijuana clouds your senses, and you can’t help but let out a cough. the music was so loud that you know you will likely have a headache in the morning, but it was worth it. there are people everywhere and they’re all doing the same thing; smoking, taking shots, and trying to find their person for the night.
“look who it is, finally.” a drunk changbin stumbles your way, immediately embracing you and picking you up. he reeks of everything in this room, including women, but you expect nothing less from the man of the hour. he looks nice—a typical all black fit from him. he continues to slur things to you that you can’t understand, but you know it’s something along the lines of “i’m so happy to see you.” and “don’t think you’re running from these shots.”
jisung doesn’t understand what he’s saying either, and the two of you make eye contact before he pats changbin’s back to put you back down in the ground.
“happy birthday!” the two of you yell in unison. ah, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. he was always so sweet to you, and in this moment as you and jisung congratulate him on another year of life, you heart is warm seeing the genuine smile on his face.
“thank you, love.” he slurs once more. “you know, you were always my favorite. my favorite girlfriend that is. smart, gorgeous, and actually fun.” the music seems as if it’s gotten even louder, but you hear him loud and clear.
now you’re the one smiling. “thank you. i got you a lot of gifts, but the rest of them I need you to open sober. here’s one you can have now.” you see jisung’s panic as you hand his bandmate a little bottle of hennessy. you know the second either you two walk away or changbin does, that he’s going to cuss you out for not telling him you brought a gift. “from me and jisung.” you add with a potent smirk on your face. you see him exhale beside you, and here you are again holding in your damn laugh.
“now y/n…you know you have to take a shot with me, right? thank…thank you.” all of a sudden there’s a hand on changbin’s shoulder, and she’s pulling him back towards where the bedrooms are. you make your false promises knowing he won’t even remember you’re here soon.
“you owe me two, han jisung.” you twirl to face him now.
“yeah, whatever. look, as always I’ll look out for you, but I can’t lie it’s time for me to put some shots in my body and find me something to lick on…for later.”
“ew! you’re like…fifteen.”
“i’m literally twenty-two?” he blinks repeatedly.
“whatever. i’m going to the bathroom.”
and you’re off. you see a couple of familiar faces on what should be a short journey to the restroom, but isn’t due to how crowded the this place is. your heart is racing, fearing that you’ll say excuse me to someone, and they’ll turn around just for it to be hyunjin. you planned this out so well in your head, just to be shaking in your boots now…literally. your feet hurt even more then they did ten minutes ago.
you finally make it to the restroom after what feels like forever. you’re afraid to even go in there, terrified about who you may see partaking in adults activities and not wanting to argue with someone who was hogging the room just because they hate parties. you hate those kind of people.
you knock—nothing. you knock again—nothing. you can barely stand now because you genuinely have to pee, and maybe there is someone in there, and they are responding— you just can’t hear them, but fuck it. you open the door quickly, closing it just as fast so a creep doesn’t try to slide in here with you. you’re about to run to the toilet when you notice someone very familiar sitting on the floor with his face buried in his hands. no fucking way. no way.
he looks up at you, his eyes irritated at first from being intruded on. he probably did say someone was in here. but the second he sees you, his eyes widen. it’s as if he’s seen a ghost.
“y/n…y/n?”
you haven’t heard him say your name in a year. you haven’t heard his voice. you don’t know how you’re still standing considering the fact that you’re having a stare down with the love of your life. you know your eyes are softening as you continue to make eye contact with him. he’s still so…beautiful. how was it possible that he has become even more attractive, even with his eyes slightly red. had he been crying?
snap out of it, y/n!
just as quick as all of the memories begin to run through your head, you turn the movie off, pulling down your shorts and panties. “move, hyunjin.” is all you say, quickly sitting down on the toilet and emptying your bladder. he scoots ever so slightly, eyes still burning holes into you even as you pee loudly and your eyes look straight forward now.
this isn’t happening right now, is it?
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authors note: part two coming soon…🤝🏽 I wanted to make this one big story but I said … that’s going to take too long to finish hehe. i hope you guys liked this.
© 2023 moonlightdreamzz. no one has permission to steal my work in any way, shape, or form.
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jeankluv · 7 days
Text
Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 19
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words: 3,8k
summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as " hate " was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths. Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.
tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug
notes: it’s been quite some time since I updated right? I feel bad for not posting new chapters, but life is kinda busy. Also some major events are about to happen on the next Birdie chapters and also I think there might be between 10-15 chapters left with everything I have planned. But don’t worry bc a new Gojo fic is coming soon!
materialist | previous chapter | next chapter
Jujutsu Kaisen materialist | ao3
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You rolled down the window of Satoru's car and enjoyed the smell of the sea that began to fill your nostrils. You had left Tokyo early that day, so you could get to your destination on time. You had spent the previous night with Satoru so he wouldn't have to pick you up and you could go straight from his apartment.
The traffic wasn't too heavy and your journey was becoming pleasant, while the GPS's voice told Satoru which routes he should take to get there. Closing your eyes, you let yourself be invaded by the sensations, enjoying the warm day at the end of May and the smell of salt water.
“We will be there in 20 minutes.” Satoru broke the silence inside the car, you looked at him and hummed in response. “You mentioned you were raised here right? What was it like?”
“It was…” You started thinking.
Memories of your childhood and teenage years came to you, the hot summers where you went to the beach with your grandmother, the ice creams before returning home. Those distant and almost erased memories with your mother, which you remembered with love and affection.
But not all of them were good memories, because you also remembered the glances, the whispers of people watching you walk and how everything became stronger and stronger with the passing of the years. And you still feel in your bones the worst memory you have of that place, one that you wanted to bury with all your might at the bottom of the sea.
That was why perhaps you wanted to bring the people you loved to that place, because you wanted to flood it with happy and beautiful memories.
“Good…” You simply said. “I can’t wait to show you around.” You smiled at him and he gave you a brief look before smiling back at you.
The car felt silent once again and a feeling started to grow on your chest. As much as you wanted to hide it, you were tense and anxious over that trip, not because Satoru was going there but because of what happened last year.
It made you sick to your stomach and you didn’t want to go through it again. You didn’t want Satoru to met him. To meet your father. You wanted to show Satoru so many things, but the idea of ​​walking and running into him made your hair stand on end.
Your memory drifted to one year ago, when you went with Kyoko.
1 year ago
“Should we buy some ice creams before going back to the motel?” Kyoko suggested as both of you were packing the towels.
“Sounds good.” You said as you closed your bag.
You started walking, Kyoko walking beside you. The two of you chatted animatedly as the hot summer sun hit your skins. You had gotten a few days off and you had decided to spend them with your best friend, in a place that you held dear to your heart. But Kyoko was someone important and deserved to get to know you better.
You walked to the ice cream stand near the beach when you heard a deep voice calling your name. At first, you didn't notice, but a shiver ran through you when you realized who it was, who the owner of that voice was.
You turned slightly and felt a sharp pain in your head, painful enough to make you close your eyes and bring one of your hands to your head.
Kyoko called you out. “Are you okay?” She said with worry.
“Yeah, yeah, I just…” But your name came out of his throat once again.
“You okay?”
You snorted and stood up. “What do you want?” You said as dryly as possible, without showing an ounce of emotion.
“I… I saw you and I wanted to check on you.”
You tried not to laugh. “Well, don’t do it.” You turned around and looked at him again. “Come closer again and I’ll call the police, you have a restraining order. Remember it.”
He called you out again. “What happened back then… was a terrible mistake and I’m sorry.” He said and you closed your eyes, trying to shut everything down. “I was desperate for money and I thought…”
“You thought going back to the daughter you abandoned, who was completely alone and take away all her money when she was just 17, was okay?!” You shouted, Kyoko took your hand, trying to calm you down. “And on top of that…” You turned around and looked at him. “You already forgot what you took from me?!”
You looked at him with tears rolling down your face and feeling the curious eyes of everyone around.
Present day
“Birdie…” You felt a small touch on your cheek and the present hit you again.
Your eyes met his, he was looking at you. Like always. But his gaze reflected his worried look. You tried to smile, despite feeling shaken by the memories that just hit your head.
“You okay?” He whispered softly. “You seemed to be drifting away.”
You shook your head and slowly blinked. “Yeah… it was nothing.”
He nodded and placed a kiss on your cheek. “Good… we arrived at the hotel…”
You looked outside and yeah, you were there. The door opened and Satoru’s hand appeared in front of you, surprising you on how fast he got himself out of the car.
Satoru took your hand and walked before you and was the one that took care of everything at the hotel. You tried to be there, but honestly your mind felt like it was somewhere else. You found it difficult to concentrate. You had assured Kyoko that your escape would be peaceful, but at that moment your mind was failing you again, filling up with ideas or scenarios that could happen.
Satoru's warm hand gave you a security that you needed but still wasn't enough in that moment of internal despair. You didn’t want to ruin things, no when that was your first time going out as a couple, so you simply put the best of your smiles. And fake it.
Hoping for Satoru not to catch you up on your lie, you made yourselves busy.
“Let’s go to visit the temple that it’s here.” You said with enthusiasm.
You and Satoru walked through the streets that had once been very familiar to you, where you had laughed, cried and been angry. Every corner hid a memory that seemed distant now but that made you smile when you remembered it.
Your feet stopped moving as your body reacted to the place you were in. Satoru turned around, still holding your hand as he watched you.
“Is something wrong?” He murmured as he approached you.
“This was the family home.” You said wistfully. “It still looks the same.”
Satoru didn’t need to do more to put his arms around you. He had noticed your vulnerability in your voice, the sadness that accompanied you as you remembered the place where you grew up, where you lived with your mother, with your grandmother.
You closed your eyes, letting yourself be embraced by Satoru’s arms and warm, and trying to calm down your shaken heart.
A little calmer, Satoru took your hand and led you through the streets, as if he already knew them. Before turning the corner you took one last look at what was once your home.
Satoru Gojo pov
Satoru would occasionally turn his head to look at you, your gaze still a bit lost and his heart was in his chest at the sight of that look, he wanted your eyes to smile and shine again. The smell of the sea filled his nostrils and a smile formed on his face when he remembered the day he asked you out.
“Birdie…” He whispered, causing your eyes to meet his. “Shall we go to the beach?”
“But… we didn’t bring our bathing suits, they’re at the hotel.” You said. Satoru smiled.
“I want to walk with you along the shore again like that time…” Your face lit up and began to blush. “Is that look a yes?” You nodded and Satoru laughed and pulled you towards the beach.
The sand burned your feet but that didn't stop Satoru from pulling you closer to the sand. Satoru hadn't wanted to ask you, but he had noticed that even though you had tried to hide it, something was still on your mind and it was something that didn't let you be calm. He wanted whatever was on your mind to disappear and for you to enjoy your moments together.
Satoru enjoyed your laughter as he splashed water on you and watched your face light up. What could he do to keep that smile with him forever? He wanted to cherish that smile, you, what you had, everything.
“‘Toru! Stop!” You laughed.
“Why? It’s funny.” He said with his dimples popping out. “Look at you… so cute.” He hugged you. “My pretty birdie.” He said closing the distance between your faces and kissing your lips.
You opened your eyes and looked at him. “When are you going to tell me why you call me like that?”
“Like what?” Satoru started to play dumb.
“You know what, don’t be silly.”
“Maybe one day…” Satoru kissed your cheek. “But now, let’s have fun okay?”
You continued playing on the beach for a while longer. Satoru kept making you laugh as he splashed you with salt water, not wanting that smile on your face to fade away. When the sun began to shine brightly in the sky, you decided to go to a bar on the coast to eat something and rest.
The bar was small but cozy, with wooden tables and chairs scattered across the sand, offering a perfect view of the ocean. The scent of grilled seafood filled the air as you and Satoru found a spot near the water. The sea breeze felt refreshing against your sun-kissed skin.
“Wait here, alright?” He said standing back up.
“My cocktail, order it with extra ice.” You said and Satoru nodded like an obedient puppy.
You waited on the terrace looking at the sea. The sea breeze moved your hair, which had become slightly wavy due to your entertaining session of playing in the sea. He bit his cheek and looked away from your figure to order your drinks.
“Excuse me?” Satoru heard someone approaching him.
“Yeah?” He looked at the person talking, it was a 50 years old man. “Do I know you?” Satoru asked him.
“No, no, we don’t know each other.” The man said and Satoru could notice his nervous posture and how his eyes moved from one side to the other. “I saw you arrive with that girl over there.” Satoru tensed as the man pointed his finger at you. “And I was wondering if…”
“Who are you?” Satoru asked with a frown.
“Oh… I… I am that girl’s dad.” Satoru clenched his fist.
Your father? Was that the bastard who left your mother when he found out she was pregnant? Satoru took a deep breath, not wanting to rush into anything.
“I was wondering if it would be possible to talk to her…”
“No.” Satoru cut him off.
Satoru’s eyes scanned that man and he noticed how disheveled he was and Satoru couldn't ignore the smell of alcohol that emanated from all over him.
“Why?” Satoru asked, with a cold look, his blue eyes had been replaced by a dark color. A look that made anyone tremble.
“Well she is my daughter and…”
“Answer me and don’t lie to me.” Satoru watched as the man swallowed and wiped his hands against his old pants.
Pathetic.
“I need money okay?” The man blurted. “I know she has savings from her mother and…”
“Enough.” Satoru said. “You want money? That’s the only reason you want to talk to your daughter?” The man felt silent and a laughter escaped Gojo’s lips. “You truly are a disgusting piece of shit.”
“Hey…” But as soon as he saw Satoru’s face, words stood hanging in the air.
Satoru glanced in your direction for a moment, you were concentrating on taking pictures of the view from where you sat, and then his eyes fell back on the man. It was hard to believe that you had his blood on you.
Satoru took the man by the arm and led him to a more secluded spot, one where you wouldn't see them. “Don’t you ever come near her again,” Satoru whispered. “I’ll give you 1,500,000 yen, but if you show your filthy face in front of her again, I’ll see that you end up in prison. Do you understand?” The man gulped and nodded. “Oh, and one more thing, get away from this prefecture and Tokyo, you understand?”
Satoru wasn’t usually this kind of person, making threats. But he knew enough about you and your family to know that you probably wouldn’t want to meet this man, or have him anywhere near you.
The man nodded and wrote down his phone number on a crumpled napkin, which Satoru reluctantly put in his pocket. Before another threat could leave his lips, the man who called himself your father was gone.
Satoru closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he really hoped that once that person received the money he would never stand in front of you again. You didn't deserve someone like that with you.
With the tension still on his shoulders, Satoru faked a smile and walked out with your drinks to the terrace where you were waiting for him with that warm look he had discovered.
“Here…” He left your drink in front of you.
“Thank you. It took you time, what happened?”
Satoru didn’t like to lie, not to you at least. “Oh just, just a man making a show.” He cracked a smile.
“Oh…” You nodded and drank a bit of your cocktail. “Oh god!” You closed your eyes. “It’s so sweet.”
“Really?” Satoru asked.
“Yeah… do you wanna taste it?”
“Not really, I’m not a fan of alcohol and besides I’m taking you somewhere later.” He smiled cockily.
You opened your eyes with surprise. “You taking me somewhere?”
“Yeah… I did my research before coming and found a place we could go to see the sunset.” Satoru looked at your eyes and he saw how they started to glow.
“That’s fantastic Satoru.” You smiled.
Satoru smiled back and took a sip of his drink, but his shoulders still felt tense. His gaze occasionally drifted towards the entrance of the bar, a trace of worry in his eyes. He was trying to enjoy the moment, but the thought of your father showing up unexpectedly again and this time you seeing him, was a constant undercurrent of anxiety.
Noticing his uneasiness you decided to address it. “You seem a little strange. Everything okay?”
Satoru managed a casual smile. “Oh yeah, I was just thinking about how unpredictable things can be. But don’t worry about it. I’m here to have a good time with you.”
You gave him a reassuring smile. “Well, let’s focus on having a good time. We have the whole afternoon ahead of us and then you’ll take me to that place right?” You gave him a smile.
With a nod, Satoru took a deep breath and tried to relax. The conversation turned to lighter and more pleasant topics as they both continued to eat and enjoy the beautiful view. Despite the lingering tension, you both managed to savor the day and found comfort in each other's company.
As the two of you continued to enjoy your meal, the atmosphere around you began to feel more relaxed. The sunlight danced across the water, casting a warm glow over everything. Satoru watched your face, which was illuminated by the reflection of the ocean, and took in every feature of yours, admiring how beautiful you were. You and Satoru laughed as you shared stories and chatted happily, the tension from earlier slowly fading from your shoulders.
Satoru could see how the sadness that had been over your eyes that morning had disappeared and now there was only brightness.
The lively atmosphere of the bar added to the feeling of tranquility. Other customers were chatting and enjoying their meals, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses mixed with the rhythm of the waves.
“You know.” Satoru said, leaning back with a contented sigh. “I’m really glad we did this. It’s been a while since I felt this carefree and relaxed.”
You smiled and reached across the table to touch his hand. “Me too.” You patted his hand and he returned the gesture. “You may not want to talk… but what about your parents?” Satoru felt a small pang in his heart and shook his white hair.
“I haven’t talked with them since the party…” Satoru shrugged. “They haven’t called, I haven’t called…” He quickly noticed your gaze. “If you are worried about what happened… don’t worry, I talked with my grandmother and she was worried when she heard what happened, apparently most people at the party started blaming Naoya and days later anonymously someone posted an article on a famous magazine talking about the behavior of one of the Zenin clans younger members…”
“You…?” You gasped with surprise.
“Not me.” He smirked. “You should invite Utahime to drink some beers once we are back.”
“Utahime?” You opened your eyes.
“Yeah, her parents are the owners of the magazine and so she made them put the article… the Iori family doesn’t like the Zenin family too much, so this was their best opportunity.” Satoru explained.
“Wow!” You said with surprise. “So… is it true what they said?” You asked. “That the elite can bring people down if they want to?”
“I guess it is… it’s nasty and dangerous because it could come back to you, but these families have been doing it for years now and they won’t change.” Satoru explained. “But let’s stop talking about them… the sun is almost down so we have to hurry up.” Satoru held your hand.
The two of you walked to Satoru’s car and headed towards your destination. The sun continued to set, painting the sky in deep shades of orange and violet, its warm light reflecting off the sea and casting a golden glow over everything. Satoru’s hands gripped the steering wheel as his eyes remained focused on the road, following the silent instructions of the GPS. You glanced at him from time to time, sensing that something about this trip was important to him.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or will it remain a surprise?” You asked, smiling softly.
Satoru smiled, but kept his gaze straight ahead. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see soon enough. I promise it’s worth it.”
The car moved smoothly along the coast, the sound of the waves fading as the road curved inland. With the setting sun casting long shadows across the landscape, everything outside the window seemed to slow down, creating an almost dream-like feeling.
After a while, Satoru’s expression softened. His earlier tension seemed to fade as the familiar sight of the destination came into view. The GPS announced the final turn and you felt the car slow down as you entered a quiet, secluded area surrounded by lush greenery and hills.
Satoru parked the car and turned off the engine. He looked at you, his smile now gentle and sincere. “It’s okay, we’re here.”
You got out of the car, feeling the cool evening breeze on your skin. As you looked around, you noticed a small path leading up a hill. Without saying much, Satoru took your hand and began to lead you along it.
At the top of the hill, a stunning view unfolded before you. The sea stretched endlessly into the distance, the sky now painted in soft pinks and purples. Below, a hidden cove shimmered, its shore empty and quiet. The only sounds were the distant songs of birds and the soft rustle of leaves.
“Satoru…” You murmured, amazed by the view your eyes were seeing. “How? How did you find this place?” You turned to look at him, who was proudly smiling.
Satoru exhaled, feeling proud of himself. “I’m glad you like it. I spent hours online trying to find a place like this.” He joked with a smile.
You turned to him, surprised. “You found this online?”
He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… Did some digging to find something special near your hometown. Wanted it to feel… personal.”
Your heart warmed at the thought of him spending time looking for such a hidden gem, just to create a moment like this for you. “Satoru, this is... amazing. You didn’t have to….”
He smiled, and softly touched your cheek."You’re worth it…”
For a moment, the world seemed to stop rotating. The gentle breeze, the distant sound of the ocean, and the soft light of the evening all came together to make the moment feel timeless.
“I love you…” He let out his soft yet emotion-filled voice. Your heart raced, feeling like it could explode in your chest. “And I want to cherish you.” He continued, his hand gently brushing yours. “Protect you, be someone you can always count on. I know I’m not perfect, but when I’m with you… I want to be better. For you.”
A gasp escaped your lips and your hands went up to his face. Satoru’s eyes were watery and even if Satoru wanted to hide it he couldn’t. “What’s wrong ‘Toru?” You called him by that affectionate nickname.
Satoru sighed deeply, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. Should he tell you? Or just let it go? After all, this was something that involved you directly, something that affected you deeply. But he didn’t want to burden you with it either, he didn’t want to drag negative emotions into this perfect night you were sharing. You seemed so happy, so at peace, and the last thing he wanted was to tarnish that with something painful.
Yet at the same time, the idea of ​​keeping something from you didn’t sit well with him. Satoru had always promised himself that he would never hide anything from you, that he would never keep secrets that could build walls between you. He wanted to be open with you about everything, no matter how hard it might be.
You noticed his internal struggle, the way his gaze seemed distant, his body tense beside you. “Satoru?” You asked softly, your thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of his hand. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”
He swallowed hard, feeling the sincerity in your voice, the trust between the two of you. And that was what made him make the decision: trust. He couldn't break that, not even to spare you the awkwardness. You deserved the truth, even if it was hard to hear.
“At the bar, a man approached me…” Satoru held your hands tightly as he began with his blue eyes fixed on yours.
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mj-iza-writer · 3 months
Text
We see plenty of human weapon Whumpee, but what about human weapon Caretaker. -MJ
Christian followed the Director into a separate room. Their child walked behind them bored out of their mind.
"So CT42/ is right there", the Director pointed.
Christian followed their finger and saw someone running on a track ring.
"They're fast", Christian noted.
"Fast and strong", the Director replied, "CT42/ is top of their class and has been waiting for their chance to work. Due to your circumstances, I believe they would be best fitted to protect Dylan. We went ahead and trained them on the medical needs Dylan requires. So once they learn the correct routines, they will be able to do it all. They are completely prepared for the job you need them to perform."
"Is that their name? They're supposed to blend in and not draw attention. It's kind of hard to blend in when I have to call them that", Dylan frowned, "do I really have to have a guard?"
"How many times have you almost been killed or taken hostage because you are related to me? Yes you are getting a guard", Christian frowned.
"That's just their serial number. You will be able to call them by the name of your choosing", the Director smiled, "they will be able to blend in wherever you are. They are trained in circumstances where they must improvise, and will be able to act like your best friend. At your command or if the situation arises, their switch will automatically flip. Your protection will be their top priority."
"Why aren't you getting one then?", Dylan looked at Christian.
"I have one, who do you think Paullie is?" Christian continued to watch CT42/ run.
"You're fri.. wait you mean?"
"Exactly", Christian frowned.
"CT42/, I need you at attention", the Director called for them, "your employer is here."
"Sir yes sir", they called and ran over quickly.
"CT42/ this is your assignment and their parent", the Director looked at them.
CT42/ stared straight ahead, they only took a quick glance at Dylan.
"You have received your assignment notes already. Everything you needed to know was in those files. Have you read through them yet", the Director watched.
"I read through them every night before bed, sir. I almost have it committed to memory sir", CT42/ quietly answered.
"Why are you not answering loudly", the Director frowned, "this is not how you answer questions."
"I apologize sir, the one named Dylan does not like loud noises, sir", CT42/ replied.
"Oh, understood", the Director nodded, "please go to the offices to receive your uniforms and mask. Return to my office to receive your name and last instructions, oath, and salute. We will be there working on signing your forms to release you."
CT42/ ran off without another word.
CT42/ stood at attention while receiving final orders.
"You may wear your mask for your oath, after that Dylan will give you your new name", the Director watched them put on their mask.
They held up their right arm
"I, serial number CT42/, do solemnly swear to protect, serve, and care for their handler. The mask shows that I have completed all training required of me. I pledge to take care of my handler, I swear allegiance to them and will obey orders to the best of my abilities", CT42/ turned toward Dylan and saluted, "please assign me my new name."
Dylan frowned, "I-I don't want to name you."
CT42/ made a confused face, "uh", they stammered. Thar was not what they expected.
The Director stepped in, "it's only a code name, their serial number will be replaced by the name you select."
Dylan frowned and looked at Christian, "you named yours Paul, that isn't their real name?"
"Yes, it's fine though", Christian frowned, "don't make this difficult. CT42/ wants you to name them. That is their last step before they become a weapon. It's an honor thing."
"That's a person", Dylan pointed, "I'm not... not doing that."
"Maybe CT42/ isn't a good fit for them", they looked at the Director, "they may prefer a different weapon. I may not be good enough."
"No, you are the weapon that was trained to take care of them. We absolutely need and want you, they are just feeling uncomfortable with this situation", Christian frowned at Dylan.
Dylan frowned.
Christian nudged them.
CT42/ watched Dylan longingly.
"North", Dylan whispered.
"North?", Christian nodded, "is that the name you choose?"
"Yes", Dylan sighed.
CT42/ went back to their salute.
"Codename North accepted", they turned to the Director.
"I salute to you. Do our organization a great service, care for your charge", the Director saluted.
"Yes sir", North saluted back.
Dylan side eyed North the entire ride home.
"If you have any questions, you may ask me", North turned to them, "I can answer anything you like to know. I have also been taught things within your special interest as well."
"They really trained you, huh" Dylan sighed.
Christian sighed, "North I'm sorry, Dylan will get over their rudeness momentarily. If I have anything to do with it that is."
North nodded, "please don't injure them."
That night, Paul came out and found North staring up at the stars.
"Doing alright North? You seem a little unsure", Paul frowned.
"Oh uh. I'm not sure how to read my charge. They seem to have no interest in me, I didn't know it would be like this. I thought my charge would be happy with me, I trained so hard for them", North sighed, "I'm uncertain right now."
"Yes they've been a little off with me since they found out I was a weapon as well", Paul sighed, "it's just something to get through, you'll be able to get through it. I know you will."
North knocked at Dylan's door.
"Come in", Dylan answered.
North took a deep breath before entering.
"I apologize, but I need to give you your medicine before bed. May I do that for you?", North peaked in, "I will retire and store myself away after that."
"Oh uh, normally my maid does the medicine", Dylan frowned, "I forgot that was one of your duties now."
North nodded, "yes."
Dylan watched as they approached and pulled out the medicine from the top drawer of their dresser.
"I get a little uncomfortable around needles", Dylan watched as they applied gloves and drew the injections.
"I understand, I often get a little uncomfortable getting medicine by shot myself. I've learned to do this quite well so you may be as comfortable as possible", North poured a few pills into Dylan's hand.
Dylan reached for their drink.
"So you said that you were trained in some of my interests."
"Yes", North nodded, "you can test my knowledge if you like."
Dylan smiled, "favorite band, song, and which of these stuffed animals do I sleep with", Dylan pointed at three on their bed.
"You have four favorite bands. My Chemical Romance, Black Veil Brides, Motionless in White, and Twenty One pilots in no specific order. Your fifth favorite depends on your mood at the time. As of yesterday your favorite song is Masterpiece by Motionless in White. As for the stuffed animal", they looked over the options, "you sleep with Teddy who is actually up on that shelf. You hide them up there so no one would touch them. These three are decoys", North smiled.
"Wow", Dylan was impressed.
"May I", North held up the injection and alcohol swab.
"Yes", Dylan eyed the shot, "dose of 15?"
"Nope, dose of 10, 15 is too much", North smiled again.
"I see stumping you might be harder than I thought. My maid has to check every night. I ask it that way to make sure people are paying attention."
"Yes, you've been purposely overdosed", North frowned, "this is why they only want me to do your injections now. You won't have to judge if someone will take care of you or hurt you."
Dylan nodded, "will you count down before you do it?"
They looked over in shock when they felt North putting on a bandaid.
"Oh uh, sorry, it's done, though. I will remember the count down next time if you like", North nodded.
"How did you do that? I didn't feel anything", Dylan watched them stand.
"I am very good with giving injections, and when I'm able to take your mind off of me doing this while I do it. I can make this easier for you", North cleaned up and disposed of the needle, "I know you are uncomfortable with this situation, but I am happy to be here, and to be able to offer you the best care and protection I can provide. Please let me show you what I am able to do."
After a few days of bonding, Christian requested they go on their first outing.
North quickly packed their things and changed out of their uniform and into their street clothes.
The only part of the uniform they carried on them was the mask. If the situation needed it the mask would protect any human identity. They were only a weapon when their identity was hidden.
"I was wondering what you would wear. I didn't know how well you'd blend with your uniform", Dylan watched them approach.
"Yes, though I like my uniform a bit better as I can move in it easily, I blend in better for you. I do have my mask though, as per orders", North smiled weakly, "does this outfit look okay?"
"You look fine", Dylan looked them over.
North followed closely behind Dylan while they shopped.
They constantly blocked Dylan's personal bubble when people got to close.
"They are being so rude", someone commented under their breath.
Dylan glared at them until they looked away.
"I'm sorry.... people are getting closer than....", North apologized.
"No, you are doing what you were apparently trained to do, and I do honestly feel safer with you here", Dylan smiled, "I appreciate you."
North sighed in relief.
As they walked out of the store, North's suspicions arose as they saw someone standing beside a wall. They had seen them earlier watching.
Movement....
North quickly darted beside Dylan in time to block a knife.
North kicked backward into the person's knee, spun around, and grabbed the knife. They delivered a final kick into the person's chest causing them to fly into the wall.
They turned again and grabbed Dylan, then took off running. Dylan buried their head into North's shoulder.
"Are you okay?", North asked in concern, they didn't think they allowed for an injury, but now they weren't sure.
"Scared, I always get scared when this happens", Dylan whispered.
"I understand", North finally found the vehicle.
The driver had seen the commotion and had pulled out to pick them up.
North opened the door, and fell in with Dylan.
"Drive", they ordered.
North held Dylan down for a few minutes.
"No one is following", the driver frowned, "I've already contacted the police and they should be arriving. Dylan's parent will deal with the rest."
"Okay", North whispered, and started to get up.
They helped Dylan into the car seat and buckled them in.
"Are you injured anywhere, any bumps or anything?", North studied them.
"I may have a few bruises, but you're bleeding North", Dylan gave them a concerned look.
"I know, it's okay though. You are my top priority, I'll get that taken care of later", North started to get into their bag, "my role has switched to weapon. I must wear the mask now."
Dylan frowned, "okay."
Dylan was helped out of the vehicle by a butler.
"We have already heard of everything that happened. We set up a calming area for you to calm down. We will serve lunch..."
"North is stabbed, they need help", Dylan finally cried out.
"I'm right here, I'll help North", Paul ran out, "come on Dylan, everything is okay."
Dylan whimpered but allowed the butler to pull them along.
Paul quickly looked into the car.
North looked back, they took deep breaths as they stared at Paul.
"You okay?", Paul reached in and helped slide them up.
"No", North frowned, "what kind of weapon gets stabbed on their first attack?"
"A good one. You got your handler home safely. You're still breathing. Looks like a job well done to me", Paul helped them out of the car and helped them up the stairs, "let's get you patched up."
"Will you cauterize it for me?", North held onto the wound.
"Yes", Paul took them into their own bedroom.
Right as Paul was going to insert a numbing agent into North's side, the door opened.
Paul looked up, "Dylan you shouldn't be in here."
"I'm worried about North", Dylan hurried to their side.
North had taken off their mask, but now hid their face from Dylan.
"Are you okay... they don't like needles", Dylan frowned when they saw it.
"Dylan I am going to take care of them, but I need you to leave this room", Paul grabbed Dylan, "go back to your room", they carried them out and stood them in the hall. The door was closed and locked.
Dylan knocked on the door a few times before it went quiet.
North looked up, "I didn't want them to see their weapon like this", they frowned, "weak and injured", North frowned, a tear trickled down their cheek.
"Why am I crying... weapons don't cry."
"They do cry", Paul stuck the needle in, "we cry, we feel emotions. We care about our charges. It's all normal. Dylan cares about you as well. They connected with you better than I thought they would", they started to heat up their tool, "that bond is going to grow stronger as well. That is what you want."
North watched as the tool was brought close.
It was glowing red.
"This sucks", North took their belt into their teeth.
The metal pressed into their skin causing them to arch up in pain.
"One... two... three", Paul started to count.
"Mmmmm", North groaned loudly.
"Done", Paul sighed, "let's get you cleaned up and bandaged."
North looked around the house for a few minutes before finding Dylan. They had been served lunch, but was quietly picking at it.
North took in their puffy eyes and red face.
Christian walked in...
"Hey North, thankyou so much for protecting them. You did good work; I really appreciate it. Paul said you got injured though", Christian stopped walking, "I'm sorry about the injury. The police got there and were able to apprehend them, and the knife you grabbed was given to them as well. I'm so grateful for you."
"Oh uh thankyou", North smiled, they never knew what appreciation felt like before this.
"Your injury is it okay.. you got stabbed right?", Christian brought them back to reality.
"Oh yes, Paul was able to cauterize the wound for me. It's a little sore now, but it's alright", North nodded, "thankyou."
"Oof, you got it cauterized, that seems painful. I've seen Paul do it to themself", Christian sighed, "I will be messaging the organization to let them know of your good service already. I'm happy Dylan has you."
"Thankyou", North smiled.
North sat beside Dylan, "you feeling okay?"
"Just sad, I-I didn't ask for this life. I don't want this", Dylan continued to fiddle with the food.
"I understand, I promise to help keep you as safe as possible", North looked at the food they were picking at, "does it not taste good?"
"I don't know, I haven't wanted to eat it", Dylan sighed.
A butler came in carrying something.
"I apologize, I was told they had forgotten to put this seasoning on top of your food. They said just sprinkle a little on, may I?", the butler showed the seasoning bottle.
Dylan nodded and pushed the plate to them.
Paul came in and smiled.
North watched the seasoning closely, they took a few wiffs of the scent.
"Wait don't eat that", North frowned as the plate was given back to Dylan, "may I see the bottle?"
North opened the bottle and took another smell.
"Paul do you... do you smell what I smell?", they handed it to them.
Paul took a few wiffs, then stuck their fingers into the seasoning.
"I do", Paul nodded, then licked their finger, "that's poison."
"Why are you licking it then?", Dylan questioned, "haven't I had enough problems today without getting poisoned?"
"We have been trained to ingest rather large amounts of poison. That way we can recognize the flavor and also survive a poisoning attempt. Can't let something as simple as poison stop us. This is a weaker type of poison, but it would put you in bed for a few days", Paul frowned, "I'll investigate and bring this to Christian's attention."
North nodded.
Dylan's shoulders shook, "I'm sick of this", they got up and ran out of the room.
"Wait", North called after them, but was stopped by Paul.
"Go make them some food while I investigate", Paul sighed, "the kitchen is fully stocked, and staff can't tell you to leave."
Dylan cuddled with a pillow in their room.
*knock, knock*
"What", Dylan huffed.
North came in carrying a tray.
"Hey", they talked quietly, "I made you something comforting to eat. I held the poison for you."
Dylan sighed, "I-I'm sorry, but I'm not hungry."
"I understand, but I do need you to eat something your afternoon medicine requires you to have food in your stomach. I'm sorry, but I need you to have a few bites at least."
Dylan sighed.
North set the tray on the bed, then knelt down on the floor.
Dylan watched them hold the spot the wound was located. They watched North wince a little as they got comfortable.
"Unfortunately I don't have the same cooking skills as the chefs in your kitchen have. I can only make simple survival meals", North lifted the cover from the tray to reveal a bowl of noodles, "I hope you like it, that is something I eat when I need comfort. It follows you diet needs even."
"Is this Macoroni and cheese?", Dylan looked up, "I love Mac and cheese."
"It is, it's five cheeses. I'm sorry you had a rough day today", North sighed, "Paul had the butler try to point out the person who gave them the seasoning. They had to look through the camera feed. The person escaped. We believe that the stabbing and the poisoning are connected."
Dylan nodded as they started to eat, "this is really good."
"I'm glad", North smiled, "I know you like comfort meals, so I made sure to learn a few recipes that work with that."
Dylan ate another fork full happily.
North watched, they took in their charge fully.
'This is what I trained so hard for. This person right here. I promise you, I will protect you through everything. I will try my best to give you a normal life', they thought to themself.
Dylan watched them weirdly, "are you okay? Are you in pain?"
"Yes I'm okay, just thinking of how honored I am to be your weapon", North smiled, "I'm happy to be here."
Dylan relaxed a little more, they couldn't lie at first they didn't want them. They now couldn't imagine being without North. They had saved them twice in one day.
"I'm happy you're here as well", Dylan smiled, "thankyou."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.
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80 notes · View notes
judesmoonbeauty · 6 months
Text
Fairytale Final Assessment 1st Anniversary SE: Jude Jazza's POV Chapter 2 ཐིཋྀ
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Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere.
Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ
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I glared at Kate at a distance where the tips of our noses touched.
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(Ha…….Really, not good.)
(Her eyes.)
Despite being pinned down and being shown the overwhelming difference in power, Kate’s eyes never gave up.
She glared at me too straight on, with a glow in them. 
(……Ah, something like this happened before.)
She was kidnapped on my birthday, and had collapsed because she didn’t leak any information about me.
When I saw her injured, my core went completely cold. 
FLASH BACK TO HIS BD STORY
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Jude: As ya said, I'm threatenin’ ya now.
Jude: But ...... I could snap your neck in an instant. Besides, the people I'm dealin’ with won't even hesitate.
Jude: If you're aware that you're being pushed away, I'm sure a smart young lady would know what to do.
Kate: I would have stayed out of it if I could have.......
Jude: But?
Kate: Every time we go on a mission together or escape from a predicament, I realize various things and change.
Kate: I don't mind that kind of change in myself.
FLASH BACK ENDS
I don't remember being kind to her or taking care of her carefully.
There have been times when she looked at death.
She has learned so much that she can no longer be called a “naive young lady.”
Despite this, she is a brazen woman with annoying eyes who maintains her clean side even when she knows of dirty maliciousness.
(I know I like this girl.)
(It’s interesting to see the fighting spirit that comes from her, but…)
(If I don't kick her out now... one day...she’ll die.)
(Then, why don't I draw the line here?)
I put my hand around Kate’s neck and squeeze it tighter than I did that day.
Kate: …..Ts…….ah.
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Jude: I told ya before that when your carotid artery is constricted, ya instantly can't breathe.
Jude: Are ya scared? Is it painful?
Jude: If you're going to give up here, I'll make it easy for ya, but what are ya goin’ to do?
Kate: Oh……ugh.
Jude: I can't hear anything. Could ya speak more clearly?
When I applied more force and tried to knock Kate unconscious, Kate’s arm suddenly pushed me away.
Kate: Cough….cough……
Jude: Ha, you’re so powerful.
Kate: Again, please!
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Jude: ………
(This girl, really?)
After that, Kate kept coming back to fight again and again.
Perhaps Ellis couldn't bear to see it, and suggested another game, 
Even so, I still ate many episodes…..***
Kate: …….
Jude: Ha, ya look exhausted.
Jude: There's no need for me to sign the consent form. Why don't ya give up quietly and pack your things?
Kate: There's still time until today ends.
Kate: I won't give up until you sign it.
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Ellis: Kate…..
(She really is a stubborn woman. There's no end to it.)
It's not that I didn't imagine this would happen.
Jude: I don't want to be with ya forever. Let's go settle the matter. 
Kate: This is the port where you manage the logistics depot, right Jude?
Jude: As ya know, we rent our warehouses to others with interest.
Jude: There was a man there who was making a living doin’ bad business.
Kate: I'm sure... something like that happened before, right?
Kate: He was using Jude's warehouse for human trafficking...a man with a bowler hat!
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Ellis: That's when Kate was with Jude for the first time.
Jude: What a good memory!
Kate: I was attacked and almost killed, so even though I hate it, I will never forget it.
Kate: So, since you brought me here, you're trying to make me do something, right?
Jude: There’s a guy who has done something similar to that man in the bowler hat.
Jude: He’s got some classified documents hidden somewhere in a warehouse up ahead.
Jude: Get me those classified documents and then we'll talk. 
Kate: I’ll find the classified documents that’ll benefit you, Jude.
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Kate: If I find them, will you sign it?
Jude: That’s what I’m sayin’.
Jude: I’m not patient, I’ll only wait until midnight.
Kate: I understand. Your promise is absolute.
Ellis: Kate, so you want me to follow you?
Kate: Thank you, Ellis. But this is my game, and I'll do my best on my own.
With that said, Kate ran away from the scene.
Ellis: A guy doing bad business in a warehouse who is hiding classified documents. Just like the one I killed yesterday……..
Ellis: Jude, no way!
Jude: No, of course not. There is no such person or classified document anywhere.
Jude: She’s gonna keep looking for something that's not there, and at midnight, I'm gonna call it a night.
Ellis: It's like Cinderella in bad taste.
Jude: The best fairy tale mistake.
Lighting a cigarette, I inhale the smoke deeply into my lungs, and exhale.
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(Now she’s washed her hands from Crown with this.)***
(This is a happy ending. It's a lukewarm happy ending that suits her.)
He tossed the shortened cigarette to the ground and stomped it down with his foot.
The on-site supervisor came running towards me, the color of his complexion changed.
Supervisor: Mr. Jude, why are you here? I’ve been trying to contact you! 
Jude: What happened?
Supervisor: You remember that guy you sent to the lab for illegal human trafficking here before.
Ellis: Is that.….that's the guy in the bowler hat who Kate was talking about earlier, isn't it?
Supervisor: That man escaped from the lab and attacked a weapons store. He killed the clerk and stole a gun...
Supervisor: As he was escaping he said he was going to kill Jude Jazza!
Jude: ………
Supervisor: The man's goal is revenge against you. Please run away and hide yourself quickly…..
FLASH BACK
Jude: We had a contract that said you couldn't buy or sell humans, right?
Bowler Hat Man: I'm hoping you'll let me off the hook there.
Bowler Hat Man: Well, even poor people can sell at a good price.
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Bowler Hat Man: It'll line your pockets and clean up this docklands cesspool that is the Port of London.
Jude: ……….
Bowler Hat Man: You, who love other people's misfortune and money, will let me off the hook, won't you?
Bowler Hat Man: If you agree, your lover will be returned to you unharmed.
FLASHBACK ENDS
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(He’s seen Kate’s face.)
Jude:…..Damn, how bad can her luck be?
Supervisor: Oh, hey, Mr. Jude, where are you going?
Ellis: Jude!
Running through the bay, I opened the doors of the warehouses with a fine-tooth comb.
(……Where the hell is she?)
Then I heard a noise in one of the warehouses.
When I opened the door to the warehouse, I found-
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[Previous] [Bitter End] [Premium End] [Master List]
***HELP! I could not t/l this line to save my life! It’s a simple sentence (?), but it literally said he was consuming editions. I managed to t/l it into “episodes” after a lot of research. I believe he is implying that because Kate keeps coming back to spar with him, he is comparing each fight to an episode and consuming it as his win and her loss??
*** 足 denotes leg or foot. 洗 denotes cleansed, scoured, wash. So, I decided to nix leg/foot and use hands as an alt since westerners are more familiar with that term.
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pochipop · 9 months
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#OVERWATCH !! ♡ — LION TAMING (MOIRA X READER).
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#. synopsis! — here you are again. there she is. but at what cost? and just who has she become while she's been so far away? and worse yet, what happens if it just doesn't seem to matter?
#. characters! — moira .
#. warnings! — angst, explicit and substantial age gap, mentions of bodily wounds + war .
#. word count! — 4.4k .
#. others! — navigation & masterlist .
#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw), @hhoneypop (moodboards) .
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It’s been a long time since you last saw Moira, —before the fall of Overwatch, before the world divulged into more madness than anyone knew what to do with. It’s been years since you were taken off duty, but not a day has gone by that you haven’t felt like a soldier. Wherever you go, the memories linger, and they tie you down like cinder blocks always trapped around your feet. You’ve tried therapy and medications, yoga and meditation; even flew out to some tropical island unmarred by the vestiges of war for a while, only to find that it wasn’t a matter of where you were or what you were surrounding yourself with.
No, in the bitter end, the truth was that it was you.
You and your mountain of feelings that no psychologist could shave down, because you didn’t know where to begin. You and the itch that lingered during times of peace, because you yearned for conflict, even if you’d spent too much of your life now trying to snuff it out. You and your incessant inability to thrive without feeling like a time bomb.
Now, the scientist you first met when you were both younger and a bit less wise, stands before you. . . Or, above you anyway, leering down at your form, taking your face in as if she’s trying to recall where she knows you from. She’s as intimidating as ever, those sharp, dual-colored eyes and that scarily pointed stare directed right at you. Once upon a time, it felt nice to be the center of her attention. You were fresh faced and newly twenty one, and she was a few years over forty, though she didn’t look it. You stood with your back painfully straight, posture perfect, eyes directly ahead, and she’d seen right through all the training and the uniform you wore with such a stupid amount of pride.
Her tone is much the same as it was back then as she leans down now, crouching at your side.
“Long time no see, luch beag.”
You can’t help but scowl at the nickname. You never protested it before, content to be her precious, foolish little mouse when the barracks got too full for your liking and you’d shack up with her in the Overwatch laboratories. She’d go on and on about new discoveries and shimmering breakthroughs, —and you’d sit there on the edge of her desk, just listening and nodding along. Your skills were in reconnaissance, mostly, though you had an okay eye for sniping if it came down to the wire, and your close combat was acceptable in spite of its mediocrity. A few times, you’d even done espionage missions with varying degrees of success. All of that to say: Moira’s work was above your pay grade.
Still, you never minded giving her an audience. She was good at putting on a show, so endlessly enthusiastic about her work and all the ways she was bending the world around her. You wish she’d have been even half as enthusiastic about the way she wore you down.
“Talon?” You question, venom in your tone. “Really?”
You’re disappointed, but can’t say you’re surprised. Moira always had an uncanny ability to move through the world like it was hers to mold and snap and kiss just right under dim computer lights—
“Spare me the lecture,” she answers bluntly. “You’re hardly in any position to be passing judgement.”
Her eyes trail from your face to the wound you’re clutching on your abdomen. When the first of many explosions had gone off, you’d been separated from the rest of your group. It was some stupid vigilante sector working to take back control of Oasis. A pointless pipedream, and you knew it, but you needed the rush, needed to be out on the field again, working, doing something. Discharge had left you stir crazy, and you were done trying to find yourself in tattered self-help books that insisted drinking more water and spending more time with the friends you didn’t have would make you happy enough to leave this life behind you.
That was the problem, really. . . You didn’t want to leave it behind. You liked the adrenaline and the thrill of knowing your life was on the line, and even now, with some big chunk of metal embedded in your stomach, you enjoyed this. In some strange, twisted way, this was where you felt at home.
“You never did know when to quit,” she tells you, a smirk pulling at the edge of her lips.
“Oh, and you do?” You retort.
Her smirk fades, and you almost wish you hadn’t said that.
“I at the very least have a sense of self-preservation,” she answers plainly. “Something you still seem to lack. Severely.”
“Whatever, Moira,” you mutter, letting your tired head drop back onto the rubble behind you.
“Very mature,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.
Even now, a part of you wants to lick it off.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in?”
You huff a little, staring up at the late evening sky. Stars have timidly begun to emerge from behind whisping clouds, and you’re reminded that this little unit you traveled here with couldn’t have cared less about you. They held no loyalty to you. You were expendable. . . And worst of all, you don’t even have the energy to be upset about it.
“Like a six,” you shrug.
You’ve definitely been through worse.
She raises a brow, reaching out to gently pull your hand away. The jostling, slight as it may be, makes you wince.
“Okay, Jesus, maybe a seven,” you correct, taking a sharp breath in.
The air is chilly against your skin, and especially so against the jagged gash in your clothing that gives way to the explosion’s cruel momento lodged in your skin. Moira’s nimble fingers gently explore the area, making use of whatever shreds of daylight are left. A sizable piece of metal is embedded in your stomach, roughly an inch above your belly button. The wound is angry and inflamed with dry blood crusting around the edges. She doesn’t ask how long you’ve been stuck here, and you’re trying not to think about it.
Moira sighs in both frustration and what you can only assume is concern. Maybe it’s all frustration and you’re just holding onto the past, —but either way, she looks toward your face again to speak.
“It’s obviously not fatal, but I can’t imagine it feels very nice,” she states.
“No, it feels like there’s metal in my stomach,” you answer sarcastically.
“Lovely to see your sense of humor hasn’t gotten any better since we last spoke,” she comments.
“Oh, so sorry,” you roll your eyes, “it’s just that if I laugh, I think this fucking thing might puncture one of my kidneys.”
“Small intestine would be more likely.”
You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling, and once again you’d really like to think there’s something just short of fondness flashing in her eyes.
She moves with clinical precision, checking you over, trying to do as little damage as possible in the process.
“You always did have a knack for finding trouble,” she comments, tone a curious blend of amusement and camaraderie.
For a minute, it’s almost too easy to pretend like you’re still that young recruit seeking shelter from your training and the gossip of the barracks in her lab, or the corporal who snuck away to lie in her bed at night. Those were really the glory days, —when your life was always in the balance, hanging by a thread, waiting to be snapped by either an enemy bullet or a quick slice from one of Moira’s long, pointed nails.
“Trouble has a way of finding me,” you muse, offering a half-hearted shrug that sends a twinge of pain bursting through your abdomen.
You grimace, then find your voice again.
“I’m just trying to keep it entertained.”
She laughs, low and from the chest, shaking her head.
“You’ve certainly excelled at that,” she remarks.
There’s a brief silence as she continues to check you over, assessing the damage. As she so gracefully pointed out just a bit ago, it’s not fatal. It’s not deep enough to leave you bleeding out, —but it damn sure doesn’t feel nice. Aside from that, you’re no doctor, but you’re pretty certain a wound like this open in a war-torn city is just a recipe for utter disaster, especially given its placement.
“So then,” she muses, “how’d you get yourself in this position?”
“Take a wild guess,” you reply, gesturing to the blown up buildings and roadways around you.
“That much is obvious,” she answers. “I’m asking why you’re even here in the first place. You must know how dangerous this area is. I’d like to think you’re not naive enough to have been working with that ragtag bunch of so-called rebels.” 
You frown. It’s hard not to when you know she’s right. You’re better than this, —better than putting your neck (and apparently your abdomen) on the line for people who would leave you behind without a second thought. Nobody came back for you. Either they all failed and were blown to pieces in record time, or they’d gone on without you and couldn’t have cared less about the person they left sifting through the wreckage to survive.
“We all make choices,” you mumble bitterly.
“Clearly. I just never pegged you as someone who’d make such a stupid one.”
You don’t answer.
“Did you really miss all of this so horribly? Enough to come out here, underprepared with a pack of morons who don’t have two braincells to rub together between them?” She questions.
“I needed something,” you snap a little. “I was losing my mind. Call me what you like, but I’d rather be here with this shit stuffed in my gut than be back home doing nothing. It doesn’t even matter what I’m fighting for anymore, just as long as it scratches the itch. I thought the chaos might give me some goddamn purpose, and I feel like you of all people should be able to understand that.”
She looks unimpressed by the reply.
“And now?” She presses. “Found your purpose, or just more chaos?”
You purse your lips into a tight line for a moment.
“Definitely more chaos, and not even the good kind,” you admit. “At this point, I’m less of a person and more of a walking disaster. Just a casualty of my own recklessness.”
Moira seems almost sympathetic as she regards you now, for whatever that’s worth coming from her.
“You’re not the first to fall for the high of it hook, line, and sinker, and you won’t be the last,” she says. “War has a dastardly way of distorting motivations. You’ve turned your personal desires into misguided ideals. But. . .” she pauses, offering you the slightest hint of a smile, “you’re still alive and breathing. That has to count for something.”
“Can’t say it feels like much right now,” you answer honestly. “Just look at me. A heartbeat away from strung out, left for dead by the same people I knew along would turn and run with their tails between their legs from the start. Some accomplishment.”
“Yes, well. . . I’m not sure I’m the right person to be offering you any comfort,” she stands to her full height again.
“I get it,” you reply. “You’re disappointed in the person I turned out to be. That makes two of us.”
Moira shakes her head.
“Let’s get you up.”
“Huh?” You utter, dumbfounded by the mere insinuation. “Up? Do I really look like I’m in any condition to be going anywhere?”
“Well I can’t very well kneel here and pull that thing out with my bare hands and no medical equipment, can I?” Moira questions in return.
“You could.”
“It would be foolish,” she states plainly. “In any case, will you be taking your chances here on your own, like this, or would you rather give yourself a fighting chance and come with me?”
“To where?”
“My laboratory,” she replies.
You’d have laughed if you’d been certain it wouldn’t drive that piece of metal into your small intestine.
“Talon gave you a laboratory?” You question. “And just what have you been up to for you to have worked your way into their good graces like that?”
“Nothing that proves to be of any concern to you,” she answers coldly.
Well then.
That’s certainly a far cry from the woman who used to enthusiastically usher you into her little realm in the late hours of the night to have you perch on the corner of her desk and listen as she rattled on and on about anything. It’s a far cry from the Moira who used to sneak her hands beneath your shirts just to feel the warmth of your skin beneath her palms.
“Are you coming with me, or would you prefer I leave you alone to lament in the rubble?”
The choice was easy. She helped you to your feet, let you lean on her slender (but surprisingly sturdy) shoulder, and by the skin of your teeth, you managed to make it back with her before that so-called seven rose to a ten. At the very least she had the decency to try and numb the area before carefully pulling the shrapnel from your gut and cleaning the unpleasant wound it left behind. You knew that look she wore on her pretty face and kept your mouth shut as she worked.
This new lab of hers is sterile, —a stark bit of contrast to the chaos outside. It’s hidden underground, but it was easy to forget that once you stepped inside with all the sharp, fluorescent lights that shone in the halls. The tech and machinery is wildly different to the type Overwatch had provided her with. You couldn’t be sure, but you were definitely willing to bet it was something close to state of the art. The air smells heavily of antiseptic now as she sits you up slowly, pausing when you wince as pain shoots through your abdomen.
Looking up at her now, there’s a clinical detachment that wasn’t there before, and you can’t say you like it.
Lost in the motions, she doesn’t seem to notice the way you stare, and you’re thankful for it. Her hands move with practiced precision, but you can’t shake the memories that have wriggled back up to swallow you whole, feasting like maggots on whatever rot she’s claimed inside you. You’re both different now, but this proximity, this touch, —her eyes raking over your skin. . . It all feels strangely familiar.
For the briefest of moments her eyes met yours, and you could almost swear you caught a glimpse of something beyond the stiff exterior she was presenting you with. Whether it was regret or desire, well, that was still up in the air. As quickly as it was there, it was gone, replaced by the mask of composure she chose to don like armor, even in your presence.
“Try not to move too much,” she murmurs, those nimble fingers adorned by prettily painted nails tracing the edges of your jagged injury as she wound bandages around your waist.
The contact was cold and dispassionate, but you couldn’t shake the lingering sense of intimacy that persisted, dancing between what was and what could have been. Maybe if she’d stayed a little longer after Overwatch fell, things wouldn’t have ended up like this. Maybe if you’d been less destroyed by the disbandment, had perked up earlier, —things would have been different. But here you are, Moira nursing you back to health again. . . And it feels nice. As nice as it can be to have a woman you loved once (and quite possibly still do, albeit differently now) taking metal from your gash and patching you up in the wake of it.
There was tension now between yourself and her that just didn’t feel quite right. You felt the weight of all the loose ends you never thought you’d have the opportunity to tie up, and it made the silence all the more palpable.
“Do you ever miss it?” You inquire, though you’re not sure if it was spurred more by curiosity or by the desire to put a cap on the quiet. “The time before Overwatch fell.”
She pauses, in the midst of winding some unused bandage wrap back around itself to store it away.
“You know my opinion on that organization quite well,” she answers markedly.
She’s right. You do. Overwatch had provided you with an outlet, had awoken something difficult to manage inside you, —but something they fed so deliciously everytime they sent you out into the field. For Moira, though, she felt they stunted scientific progress and refused to let her ideas thrive, skimping on resources for the research and experimentation teams. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say she loathed Overwatch, and you always knew she wasn’t sad to see it go.
“So no,” she adds. “I can’t say that I do.”
It’s probably not as personal as you’re taking it, but hearing her say that really throws a wrench in the whole ‘I think I’m still in love with you’ thing you’ve got going on.
“Still,” you say, voice cautiously casual, “do you ever think about it?”
In the time it took you to find the nerve to speak again, she’d finished wrapping the bandage and had begun reaching for the kit she claimed it from.
“Nostalgia is a luxury we can seldom afford in times like this,” she comments. “And I prefer my conversations more to the point. Just what is it you’re trying so hard to ask without asking?”
Her response leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. The time before was far from perfect, but it was such a delicate mix of pain and pleasure. Now, it just feels far too much like Moira is determined to bury both beneath the rubble of the present.
“Just. . .” you hesitate, feeling the words die in your throat the minute she meets your eyes.
You swallow their corpses like bile and try again.
“What we had. . . Did it mean anything to you?”
Oh, joy. Now you’re fairly certain that you’re just coming across like some lovesick little girl who never got over her first crush. It’s embarrassing enough to make your insides churn a little, although thankfully only in a metaphorical sense, because you’re pretty sure that would have hurt fairly badly on its own, and that pain would only be amplified by the wound on your stomach.
“What we had?” She echoes, one of her thin brows arching.
A part of you is almost expecting her to laugh at you, but she doesn’t.
“It served its purpose,” she shrugs, tone even.
“And that’s all?” You press, even though sirens are going off in your brain, begging you to reel the conversation back in or try to steer it in another direction entirely.
There just has to be something more beneath the surface.
“We both got what we needed, did we not?” Moira questions. “You got to rest your weary head on a warm body, and I had someone to speak with, —even someone to take some frustration out on. Nothing more, nothing less.”
What she said was true, but it still made your chest ache to hear it out loud.
“And now?”
“Now what?” She inquires.
“What’s our relationship now?”
Moira pauses, her gaze lingering on your face as if she’s weighing her options in real time. The sterile air of the lab seems to thicken with your anticipation, and you brace yourself for her reply. 
“Now?” She muses, tone cool and detached. “We’re. . . Acquaintances, of a sort.”
“And that’s all?”
“That’s all.”
Acquaintances. It’s a word that feels more distant than the war-torn landscape outside, and it shreds your stupid little heart like it's been raked over a cheese grater. It fucking stings. A woman you used to run to seeking solace and what always felt like protection is now something less than even a friend. You’ve been reduced to some kind of footnote in her life story.
At this point, all your pride has gone out the window. Or, it would have done so if this place had any, but being underground, that wasn’t exactly a reasonable ask. Instead, it’s wilting in front of you like a discarded rose, shriveling up all the more when you decide to open your mouth again.
“Do you ever think about it? About me?”
Moira stills for a moment, as if the question caught her off guard.
“What’s there to think about?” She answered your question with one of her own.
“Us. What we had. How it felt.”
Silence lingers, stretching into uncomfortable territory before she finally fixes her tongue to say: “I try not to dwell on the past.”
She’s diplomatic, even in her evasivness.
“Dwell on me then,” you dare. “I’m here now, aren’t I? That’s hardly what I’d consider a thing of the past.” 
She busies her hands with something on a table nearby.
“I try not to dwell on any one thing for too long,” she revises. “Lots of things require my attention. Stagnancy is hardly a luxury I can afford.”
You can’t help it that her vague replies make you well up in frustration,
“You can’t just pretend like it didn’t happen.”
“I could,” she states, letting her gaze rise to snag yours. “But I didn’t. I told you; what happened between us served its purpose. Now, it’s time to adapt and move forward.”
“Adapt and forget?” You challenge.
“Adapt and survive,” she corrects.
“Neither of us are exactly the type to just want to survive and leave it at that,” you remind her. 
Moira drops the tool in her hand and looks at you pointedly. You flinch at the noise it makes as it clangs against the table.
“What exactly are you fishing for?” She questions, frustration seeping into her tone. “Some kind of senseless confirmation that you were more than just something familiar?”
“I don’t know. Maybe something like that,” you admit, and immediately a part of you wishes you hadn’t, and yet you continue. “Maybe I just wanna know that it meant something to you beyond serving a purpose.”
“You want to hear me say that I loved you.”
Your blood sort of runs cold, but you don’t bother to deny it. That is what you’ve been clawing for this whole conversation, —you just hadn’t expected her to put it so bluntly, even if that’s just within her nature. Still, there’s a vulnerability on her face that you hadn’t quite expected.
“Love. . . Love is a complicated word. It carries weight, and expectations, and a host of things we never explored. What we had was different. But in saying it’s different, I don’t diminish the significance. It’s a differentiation, but not one I feel matters more than the facts at hand. It was mutually beneficial, and I have a great deal of fondness for you as a result.”
“A deal great enough to think of me as an acquaintance,” you say.
“At the moment,” she states. “But in the past, which I’m still not keen to be dwelling on, —we were something more. I don’t let mere acquaintances sleep in my bed.”
“In the past,” you echo, seeming almost disenchanted by it all now.
“Things change,” she tells you. “You and I know that better than most. Circumstances evolve. I’m not negating or denying what we shared, —I’m telling you that the present demands a different perspective.”
That’s a hard pill to swallow, to say the least of it.
“So what now then?” You ask. “You stay here in this lab alone, and I go back out there? Maybe we cross paths every once in a blue moon, and we stay acquaintances forever?”
“If that’s what you need to give yourself some closure on the matter, then I suppose so,” Moira replies.
“I don’t need closure,” you tell her. “I don’t want it. What I want is. . .”
You pause. What exactly do you want? Something close to what you shared with her those few years ago? Something more, something less? Maybe it’s just that you miss the way she’d kiss you, because nobody has done it since then. Maybe you’re just touch starved and feening for the only woman who ever knew how to push all your buttons in all the right ways.
You swallow, steeling yourself to finish.
“What I want is you.”
Moira’s lips twitch into a small smile.
“You always were stubborn,” she notes.
“Only when it matters,” you reply, not bothering to bite back a grin.
“And you think it matters now?” She asks.
“I think it matters now more than ever,” you answer, tone earnest. “I miss what we had, Moira. I miss you.”
She studies you for a moment, as if she’s weighing the sincerity of your words. Finally, she breaks the silence.
“You do realize that things won’t be the same, correct?” She questions. “I don’t know where you’ve been or who you’ve become in the time we’ve spent apart. Not that I’m unwilling to learn, —just to say that it won’t be exactly how it was. Not now, not for quite a while, and perhaps maybe never.”
“I know things won’t be the same,” you confirm. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe this can be something better.”
Moira can’t deny that the possibility intrigues her. She loves a good hypothesis, after all. Her analytical mind seems to weigh the pros and cons, calculating the risks involved and the potential for something grander than what it once was at its inception. Something more than a stifled set of hookups and entangled nights. A hint of a smile graces her lips.
“I’m willing to take the risk if you are,” she concedes. “But I make no promises about the end result.”
You remove yourself from the table, feet hitting the cold floor of the lab, emboldened by the diluted pain and the urge to be closer to her now more than ever. She nearly opens her mouth to advise you to sit back down, but doesn’t in the end.
“I don’t need promises,” you insist, reaching out to take her hand. “I just need a chance.”
She smiles honestly, and it’s like watching all her sharp edges soften. Her free hand cups your cheek, cold to the touch even as it warms your heart. Her thumb caresses your skin gingerly as she leans down slightly, speaking softly.
“Granted.”
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127 notes · View notes
torawro · 1 year
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QUIET PERCEPTION. ( neuvillette )
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neuvillette x plus size!fem!reader
cw ━━ ! minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is written as plus sized/thick, and also as a black woman but you do not have to imagine it as such, anyone is welcome to read. fiancé!reader. just fluffy, lovey dovey stuff <3 neuvi still actively trying to understand him being completely in love with you and the fact you love him back. neuvillette is (un)intentionally is romantic and charming. use of endearment terms in french ( i so desperately wanted to be creative with pet names but i'm still tryna get a read on his character so i decided to play it safe LMAO). some locations (i.e. where neuvilette lives) may not be canon; i just pulled info from different sites. somewhat proofread.
word count ━━ ! 2.06k
notes ━━ ! this'll be something short n sweet <3 i could have sworn that i've written about a genshin character before but looking back, it seems as if i was mistaken :D i definitely have several concepts/wips about genshin charas but i never got to finish them so . . . . here's to my first genshin piece 🥂 i imagined my first would be abt zhongli or diluc ( bc i adore them until the end of time ) but fate has changed <3 this handsome gorgeous man came out of nowhere and captured my heart and won't let go. @gabzlovesu , i actually did it :)
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THE STEADY STREAM OF pouring water was the only constant sound that resonated throughout the spacious estate of the Chief Justice of Fontaine. The extravagant windows had the blinds drawn, so the luminescence of the moon was free to shine as it pleased, and take a peek inside the many walls of the home of the ludex.
Inside the master bedroom laid the Chief Justice himself, and you, his dearest fiancé, wrapped securely and loving in his arms.
Well, you were wrapped in his arms.
The space where you were previously laid would soon be vacant, as you found yourself having odd, after-midnight cravings of a certain kind of tea. Despite your obvious sleepiness and exhaustion, your brain would not rest, and kept generating memories about the last time you've had the pleasure to make yourself this beverage and imagined how good it would taste at this hour of the night.
When all is quiet, in sound and in mind, one would have more of an opportunity to really savor something. You reasoned that the tea was bound to taste even better if you drank it now, which was all the motivation you needed to gently maneuver yourself from underneath your fiancé's rather anchored hold on you. It took you quite some time to do so because you didn't want to wake him up. For someone that worked the way he did, he deserved as much undisturbed rest as possible.
Adjusting the bonnet on your head, you slid your bare feet into your slippers that sat at the corner of your bed. The hard marble and tile floors were a lot colder at night when they couldn't be warmed up by the rays of the sun.
You took your time making your way to the kitchen and pantry area. The manner in which you ambled about the corridors━ your cream colored night gown wading at your ankles, flowing with each step you took━ made you akin to a ghost in a haunted mansion.
Once you reached your destination, you went straight ahead and grabbed all the ingredients you would need at a leisurely pace, taking more fulfillment in making a simple cup of tea than you normally do. Usually, you would have thought the whole process was annoyingly long-winded, but this time it was different.
Maybe it's because it was quiet. Your mind was quiet. Your heart was quiet; there was no rush. You allowed yourself to relax, to bask in the tranquility of the moment.
The soft clinks of metal and porcelain, as well as the delicate sound of your humming voice, were added onto the noises of the rushing fountains.
All of the noises were symphonious with each other, to the point where they all merged into one. Soon you were entirely engulfed in your current task and the little noises that filled the air.
And perhaps too engrossed, because you were unable to sense the presence of Neuvillette, who had shifted slightly in his sleep only to notice you had disappeared. He wouldn't be able to, or want to admit it, but the bed you shared turned out to be a little colder in your absence.
"So, here you were," he questioned as he entered, holding a candle in his hand. His voice was a huskier than normal, most likely because he had just woken up from his slumber. You have come to believe over time that the sound of Neuvillette's voice, especially when it was thick with sleep, was the most soothing and melodious sound you would ever have the pleasure of hearing.
Even now, you had to bite back a grin, for the sound of his somewhat deeper voice, and the nature of his statement, caused a giddy feeling to erupt in your stomach. The sensation crawled from your gut and spread across your body like an electric current, and generated a bashful warmth in your face.
"Here, I am," your cheeky reply flowed smoothly from your lips, briefly looking back at him for a moment before grabbing the cocoa powder. "And here I thought I had been as quiet as a church mouse when getting out of bed. Seems I was unfortunately mistaken." The faintest gasp arose from your throat when you suddenly felt your fiancé's body behind you, gently pressing against your back in an effort to embrace you once more.
The Chief Justice knew how to explain and rationalize a lot of things on a many broad subjects, in and outside of the Opera Epiclese of the Fontaine court. But he was at a loss when it came to humans━ specifically and especially when it came to you.
Articulating his feelings for you, trying to fully understand why you felt this way about him in return, and just why he always felt more content when you were this close to him were some things he admittedly struggled to find logical solutions to.
Neuvillette's lips were a hair's breadth away from the upper part of your ear so when he hummed, goosebumps almost immediately erected on the surface of your deep, chestnut skin. His voice, now even lower than before, and the large palm he placed on your torso, startled you to a degree where you nearly spilt all the powder on the counter.
"You should recall how light a sleeper I am. Alas, your attempt to be inconspicuous was all for naught. I'm afraid that nearly anyone would have awoken from all the rustling that resulted from your movements."
You couldn't stop the soft laugh that tumbled past your lips at his subtle jab at your inability to be sneaky. Hearing him say anything resembling a joke at another's expense was certainly rare. "I suppose you're right. It seems my eagerness for tea dulled my usually agile movements."
This time Neuvillette chuckled and shook his head a bit, and his small smile stretched into a wider one when he heard you laugh along with him. The heart that resided in his chest pumped faster and with much more force whenever he heard the sound. He could listen to it all day.
"I'm sorry I woke you up though. I've disturbed you from getting the proper rest you need." You felt the need to apologize, even though it was unlikely your white haired fiancé would ever be upset with your for something like that. "Even more so because I am fully aware of the long day you have ahead of you tomorrow."
Without warning, Neuvillette proceeded to wrap both of his arms around your abdomen and pulled you even closer to his chest. You could feel the ridges and dips of his rather defined and etched stature through the thin satin of your night gown. With little force and much care, he turned you around to that you were now facing him, leaving you no choice but to pause in the stirring of your tea. His hands rested lovingly on your hips and your backside was pressed firmly against the counter.
The space between the two of you remained nonexistent.
"I, too, am aware of the day that awaits me in several hours. But please, do not apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for."
You were about to reply but Neuvillette silenced whatever it was your were going to say next when he leaned down slightly, and captured your lips in a delicate but amorous kiss. In reality it didn't last for more than three seconds, but to you, in your own little world with this man you got to claim as yours, it felt like it lasted much, much longer.
The effect of time seeming like it slowed down felt even more real when the two of you broke away from each other, and his silvery lavender eyes peered into yours. "Truthfully, I don't mind losing a bit of sleep....if it means that I don't have to wait until the morning to have you look at me like this, and hear your voice again."
Your eyes widened a fraction, not expecting him to say something so affectionate or romantic unprovoked. A fond smile tugged on the corners of your lips, already knowing your mind would be replaying his words for weeks to come over and over again, like a malfunctioning record player.
"Oh, mon amour...." was all you were able to say at the moment, your tone soft and breathy, slightly above a whisper. For as long as you have been with your white haired fiancé, he was still effortlessly capable of causing the butterflies in your stomach to hatch from their cocoons, and fly around in a frenzy.
Neuvillette lifted one hand to palm your cheek, and stroke it slowly with the pad of his thumb. His hand, his body, the look in his eyes were filled with warmth, and you wanted to cherish it for as long as possible. Your hands rested on his chest, and you leaned into his touch as he pecked your lips once and then twice more, for good measure and solely because he desired to feel you against him one more time.
The Chief Justice decided he liked this expression on your face. It suited you quite well, he thought. Right now you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on in his long-standing life.
After a moment, a low chuckle rumbled in the man's chest before leaning forward to peck your temple. "I think I'm craving a bit of tea as well. I'm sure it will quell this newfound thirst that arbitrarily appeared."
Smiling again, you separated from your lover so you can finish on your cup, and so he could get started on his. As you stood side by side, and even as you both finished and made your way back to the master bedroom, you continued to talk to each other about whatever topic lingered in the atmosphere. Anything from the upcoming trial and cases he was overseeing tomorrow, mundane things that you saw on the streets of Fontaine that day, what you had for lunch, and everything else in between was discussed between the two of you.
Before either of you even realized it, the hue of the room turned from colorless dark to a deep cerulean blue, and the songs of the birds reverberated throughout the walls of your bedroom.
It was morning.
"Oh my! Has dawn truly come? And so soon at that...I didn't mean to keep you━"
The words of exclamation were lodged in your throat once more, as you watched him take your hand in his, and placed a feathery kiss on your knuckles and fingers.
"Do not trouble yourself over matters that are not your doing. You need not worry about me, ma douce."
Like a puddle of water that has been sitting in the sun all day, you're felt like you could evaporate just from the intensity of your fiancé's lidded gaze. Sometimes you wondered if he was even aware of his influence on every part of your body.
"Besides, I don't recall ever saying that I intended to leave at this very moment. We still have plenty of time together; the morning has only just begun."
Completely intertwining your hand with his, Neuvillette seamlessly maneuvered you both back onto the soft, inviting sheets, with you conveniently laying on top of him.
His long, snowy hair sprawled from his scalp in all directions making him look majestic with no effort at all. At times, you even found yourself jealous of his beauty. But you wouldn't dare utter such words to him; you'd rather simply admire and even found yourself a little prideful that such a dauntingly beautiful man would be yours forever.
If only you knew that to Neuvillette, you resembled an angel from the Celestial heavens. The sun hasn't risen over the mountains just yet, but your being blinded him, and he found himself never wanting to see another thing again.
Overcome with ardor for you, his hand found its way to the back of your neck to pull your face downward and closer to his, because he was craving another taste of you.
You melted in his touch, and savored the taste of vanilla and crème on his tongue and his hands on your body. The only thing wrong with this moment, was the dawn came too soon.
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( # ) ━ since i never wrote for genshin before, i don't have a tag list for it lolz ! but i might as well make one soooo if you wanna join let me know <3 here's the link to my taglist form for my other works <3 @osamwah @smiley-babe y'all would prob like this fdkjdkd
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murkycran · 5 months
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Misc. Vox Fic Rec List
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Welcome to my Miscellaneous Vox Fic Rec List!
Soooo after a lot of consideration, I decided to make a third rec list. This one will be for miscellaneous fics, which can mean anything from smaller Vox pairings to fics that are not strictly Radiostatic or VoxVal. You'll see what I mean.
I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, too, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.
These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.
Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!
✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.
Fic Rec List Masterpost
Radiostatic Fic Rec List
Staticmoth Fic Rec List
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Alastor Makes a Porno by Charnel_Goat, spappest
Summary: Alastor interrupts Val and Vox's personal time to get his rut over and done with, and they're just going to have to deal with that.
Basically, Alastor and Val try to have a threesome, but they keep arguing, everyone's injuring each other trying to figure out the logistics, and nobody cares what Vox has to say about any of this.
Notes: This has Staticmoth, Radiostatic, and Valastor. It's not strictly leaning more towards any pairing (tho Val does make a pretty sweet comment at the very beginning about Vox lol), which is why it's going on the Misc List. Porn with an edge of hilarity that - despite the tags - made it pretty funny. Three terrible people being terrible to each other. Vox suffers. Heed the tags.
He's Visual, Alright! by dead_boy
Summary: For Valentines Day, Charlotte Morningstar— Lucifer’s brat— had announced the hotel would be hosting a sweetheart poll, allowing winners to vote for the biggest ‘sweethearts’ in Pentagram City! How adorable!
— Of course, when Angel gets involved, things get a little twisted, and hell treats it as a most-fuckable-celebs poll.
Vox isn’t the only one surprised by how high he scored, and how concerning the amount of votes he received was.
But there was no way in hell this “demand” was enough to make him give into Valentino and Velvet’s newest fixation: Making use of this fame and making Vox do some modelling!
Surely he won’t mind the lingerie and toys provided by Velvet and Valentino respectively, right?
edit march 2024: i can’t believe he just won the hottest hazbin character poll. literally manifested
Notes: Poly Vees. Funny af. Vox suffers, but in a good way. Written BEFORE the hottest HH character poll, can you believe that? Lmao.
stray by vol_ctrl
Summary: How Vox met Vark. ♥
Notes: No ship. Written before season 1 release.
After the Credits Roll by leftofrevolution
Summary: Everyone knew the Magnes sometimes liked to spice up their sex life by dragging another demon into the middle of it.
Vox maybe should have paid more attention to that particular tidbit of information than he did.
Notes: Lilith/Lucifer/Vox. Chapter 1 written before season 1 release, with Chapter 2 being released after season 1 release. I read for the crackship, ended up liking the Lilith/Lucifer/Vox dynamic and world-building a LOT. Lol. Poor Vox. Or good for him? Still has yet to be seen.
The Shopping Cart Test by spappest
Summary: Angel never expected Prince Charming to have a TV for a head, but when Vox kills Valentino and saves him from his abuse, well… Maybe Hell doesn’t have to be all that bad. With Val out of the way, everyone can have a happy ending. Angel’s safe, Charlie’s happy, and even Alastor finds love.
Oh, wait. This is Hell. It’s always that bad.
Notes: Angel/Vox. Started before season 1 release. First Staticdust fic I read. :)
Hold Me Up by Sameko
Summary: Vox has been in and out of a relationship with Valentino for years. Always breaking up. Always coming back.
Then one night comes the definitive crack at the expense of one of Valentino's employees, to which Vox never paid much attention other than for shits and giggles.
One night, one word too many, might be enough to shift the perspectives of two people once strangers to each other.
Notes: Staticdust. Pretty bleak and dark at times, but so, SO good. Two broken people trying not to cut each other with their edges while also trying to help each other.
Cruel Melody by Hiding_Behind_a_Pencil_and_Pen
Summary: A man hopelessly in love with a monster, despite how much it hurts.
A person chained to a beast he can never escape, no matter how hard he tries.
Vox and Angel Dust have given their body and heart to Valentino, and neither know how to free themselves from his lies.
But maybe, even if it never gets better, they won't have to suffer alone.
Or,
What if Husk was just a little too late to get to the bar in episode four? And a certain media Overlord helped Angel instead. They find out that they're not so different after all.
Notes: As of now, I think this is Queerplatonic Staticdust.
Revelations in Technicolor by Awesome_Possum
Summary: Velvette had been dead for six years, part of The Vees for four, and fucking Vox for a little over two. They had a good thing going.
On one of their bi-weekly Vox-mandated movie nights, Valentino put a plan into motion and Velvette learned something new and surprising about her business partner and part-time sugar daddy that made a shocking amount of sense.
It ultimately ended up bringing The Vees closer and if Valentino claimed that was his intention all along, no one had any reason to believe him.
Notes: The Vees are a V and Vox is the hinge, so he's in a relationship with both Valentino and Velvette. Interesting headcanons for Vox's human life. :) (What is the ship name for Velvette/Vox again?)
System Shutdown by Swoolie
Summary: Taking a leaf from Alastor's book, Vox goes on a small break from everything.
He doesn't stick around long enough to see the chaos that ensues after his sudden disappearance.
Notes: This is tagged with both Radiostatic and Staticmoth. It's too early in the story to tell definitively which direction it's going to end up, so for now it's going to be on the Misc list. I'll probably move it when it becomes more clear what the main pairing will be.
Dapple Rose by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Everyone always assumes the same thing about Alastor and Vox's relationship: That it's one-sided, that it's based on fixation, and that the reason for their falling out was due to the obsession turning into something that couldn't be controlled.
All of those assumptions are correct. The only problem is, everyone gets the 'who is obsessing over whom' part of the equation wrong.
When Vox and Valentino end up stuck at the hotel, suddenly the entire relationship between the radio and television is put on display, casting it and Alastor in an entirely different light.
Notes: Tagged with both Radiostatic and Staticmoth. Due to both this and the entire story itself (you'll see what I mean when you read it), it's going here on the Misc List. I freaking love this story, because so far I've not seen another fic where Alastor was obsessed with Vox while Vox was not obsessed with him in return. :3 Everything Penny_Tails writes is gold!
Here I Come by Heliosolar
Summary: Vox contemplates his lackluster life as he stands over the edge of the city.
Or, the fall of Vox, both mentally and physically.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. No ships, just Vox. Heed the tags.
Entertainment for Two by Heliosolar
Summary: With the radio demon joining them for the night, Vox puts on a show the two overlords will never forget.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Staticmoth and Radiostatic, at the same time. 😳
Proposition by Snorp_Lord
Summary: Alastor does not, strictly speaking, have a 'relationship' with the King of Hell. But they certainly have a something.
A something which does not include Vox. But Alastor is at least willing to indulge Lucifer in whatever this new idea is.
The new idea is Vox.
Notes: Contains Radiostatic, Radioapple, and Staticapple, but for this installment, Radiostatic is definitely the focus. Very intense, pretty sweet. 😳 Has 2 more parts in the series which are definitely worth the read, though they don't feature Vox as much.
meteor shower by spoondrifts
Summary: alastor, rosie, vox, and a study in non-traditional love.
Notes: QPR Alastor/Rosie/Vox. Very good! (What's the ship name for this?? Radiostaticrose?? Radiorosestatic?? Roseradiostatic?? Staticradiorose??)
spiraling down thy majesty by spoondrifts
Summary: “Okay, um, time out,” Lucifer said, because he felt like they were maybe losing the plot a little. “I feel like I should remind you that I’m not here because I was like, uh, overwhelmed with lust for you, in particular. I’m here because Husk said you were Alastor’s ex and I have poor impulse control and thought it’d be funny, but I’m realizing now that this is actually just really weird and you, my friend, have some serious issues that I am not equipped to handle.”
Or: Lucifer and Vox have a shared problem that starts with Al and ends in stor and has a in the middle—thankfully, there's a solution! (The solution is sex. It's just sex.)
Notes: Staticapple. Revenge sex. As in...they're both getting revenge on Alastor...using each other. Lol.
(Fic rec list to be continued as I read more)
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