#the first time he's having doubts he mentally (or physically) slaps himself in the face

[sirenvrse]

Sj2 au where bugs didn't come back for MONTHS

[lesbianslovebts]

I love how the Beyond Evil fandom has such diverse ideas about Lee Dongsik and Han Juwon's sexual dynamics. One interpretation I've seen is the older, more experienced man teaching the younger one, but other people headcanon Dongsik as inexperienced and/or having sexual dysfunction due to his grief and trauma. I like both of these interpretations, but I want to discuss another possibility.

Imagine Lee Dongsik moving to Seoul and working with the RIU. He grew up in a small town plagued with horrific memories where every single person knew his face, his name, his house, his parents, his sister, his trauma. But here in the big city, nobody knows who he is, and frankly, no one cares. He's anonymous in this new landscape, and even though he brought his baggage with him, this is the first time he can try to build his own identity.

Now, assuming Dongsik is gay and has related religious trauma (since he wouldn't even go to his grandmother's memorial), this is also the first time he's in a place with other people like him. I think the desire to experiment would be irresistible. However, I doubt he would've been capable of doing so in a healthy way. Dongsik is a person who does things for other people with no regard for the toll it will have on him. He gives and gives until there is nothing left. I can picture him doing the same in bed.

I'll put the rest under the cut because it might be triggering. Essentially, I'll be talking about sex as self-harm.

I see Dongsik as a man who bends and breaks himself to be whatever his bed partner wants. He does what is asked of him regardless of how it affects him mentally, physically, and emotionally. If he's with a cruel top, he's a passive bottom who doesn't speak up when it hurts, can't stay hard, and doesn't get off. If he's with a bottom who wants it to hurt, he'll slap and choke and fuck until they're satisfied, never mind the amount of alcohol he has to drink afterward to forget it ever happened. In other words, he doesn't set any boundaries to protect himself, and the men he sleeps with take advantage of that, knowingly or not.

This form of self-harm by proxy stems from Dongsik's extremely low self-worth and exacerbates it. He becomes disconnected from his body and dissociates during sex. He doesn't even know his own preferences and struggles to differentiate between pleasure and pain. It's a vicious cycle that starts and ends with trauma, but he can't imagine sex any other way.

Therefore, when he becomes intimate with someone who genuinely cares about him and his wellbeing (i.e., Han Juwon), it's terrifying. He has to reconnect with his body, develop communication skills, and unlearn old habits. All of these are difficult, overwhelming tasks. It would take time and require patience on both sides.

And though I headcanon Juwon as having no prior experience, his approach to exploring sexuality is healthier and more mature. In a sense, Juwon would be starting from the very beginning, and Dongsik would be starting over with him. They both need to learn what they like, what they don't, and how to communicate that. It wouldn't be perfect because nothing is, but I think Juwon would be the direct, honest, thorough lover that Dongsik deserves. Likewise, I know Dongsik would be the warm, reassuring lover that Juwon deserves.

This is the history I have in mind as I write my own fic "No Wound Too Deep, These Scars Will Keep." Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, or DMs. I am always open to JWDS discussion!

[shisui-uchiha-anon]

starter for @kcgarashi

Has passed away almost a year since he was captured and brought back to Konoha alive. From winter to summer and winter again....

He never even considered the possibility of surviving the confrontation. His arrogance cost him deeply, for the village and its elders were not ready to let him go.

Did he ever consider the possibility of escaping? He discarded that idea the moment his wrists joints and neck were branded with curse jutsu, or as they call it now living prison jutsu. It was over. For this jutsu will not let him leave or fight. Seal was made to burn through his joints and wrists if he do not stop fighting. Seal also contained all of his chakra in. Without a possibility to use it. And third, if he tries to escape seal around his neck will behead him. His jailor Toshizō never far- like an additional shadow. Toshizō and Shisui were childhood friends and now they are a jailor and prisoner.

That shop? Still, stands? A bit bigger but still the same as when he was a child, swinging the owner's daughter on a swing, laughing and training together. Upon entering for the first time she was there. He would recognize her everywhere. He doubted that she would like to see him now. He didn't plan to come again anyway.

Wrong! He is regular now, better said part of her shop.

Snow covered all the tracks. This was his fault. He decided to avoid her. This winter came with lots of snow. She was outside cleaning, and there was by her side that bastard of his guard dog Toshizō. The man was not doing anything wrong, he even offered to help her clean the path to her shop. At that moment there was human emotion that he could feel. It was jealous.

"Who the hell gave you permission to sniff around?" Without mercy, Shisui punched the man in the face. Shackle jutsu prevented Shisui from using chakra, and it burned him when he tried to fight, looks like burning was not enough. A slap across his face stopped him, more like stunned him before she stormed back into her shop. She slapped him, in any other man that may awake outrage. In him that tension and interest growing tenfold now.

Leaning over, to her now, over the bar, she cleans his wrist, cursed shackle jutsu made his wrist bleed. He didn't care, not many people had the guts to even look his way far less to hit him. She cleans and wraps his wrist with bandages.

Tips of his fingers traced over her skin, at first just over her knuckles, over her tattoo. The fingers of a murderer were gentle and soft like a feather, able to cause pleasure and able to leave warm traces over her skin. She didn't pull away. She was just looking at him, and he was at her. That need, that urge to kill, to lift human skin just to see what is inside was gone now. With her was none existent, with her he was able to see all the colors.

Lingering touch continues to dance over her hair, safely tucking it behind her ear, with the outside of his fingers, with his knuckles he caressed her neck and her jaw. Men took him away...

After the incident, he was absent for ten days. A punishment was delivered for hitting Toshizō. Body pain and torture have no meaning has no effect on Shisui. He was tortured a thousand times, mentally and physically. All that bleaches before the true pain he was forced to feel during his time with the Akatsuki. Ninja can be strong he can be number one. But face him with Pain and his black rods that block all chakra and send constant pulse-like pain, combine it with three days of no food or water. Well, food can be tolerated but without water, your body starts to wither and your mind refuses to work going almost mad with thirst. For that three days, no drop of rain fell and it's always raining there!

He came back one day she was injured, he asked but what good that can bring? He can not leave and find that person, he is useless to her. He should never have allowed himself to bring her, them into this position. This is exactly why he discarded his human emotions. And when her fingers brushed his wrist all was blown away, it was just her and nothing else mattered. The whole life of his narrows to this moment. Her gentle touch is all he needs, it breathes life back into him, it sends sweet shivers over his spine.

"Please tell me what happened to you while I was gone?" He didn't know how to tell her I care for you. He was not sure is that even right to tell her, she could do much better than him. He presses a gentle kiss on her brow. He was dressed differently, covering most of his skin, so that she can not see bruises and cuts. He is unworthy to be the reason for her pain and worry.

"I have something to give you before I get back to work"

[arrowflier]

hi, i love love love your fics!! i was wondering if you could write something with lip asking ian about mickeys tattoo (ians name) and ian tells him but he starts kinda joking and then tells lip how much he loves it. thank u!!

The first time Lip saw it, it was after his brother had been dragged out of the house by his parole officer to who knows where, basically at gun point.  Mickey, who Lip hadn’t even known was out of jail, much less somehow in the house, was staring out the door after him like he could bring him back by sheer force of will.

“Hey,” Lip greeted as Mickey turned around.

“Hey,” he got back, then a startled, “Jesus Christ,” as a multitude of other faces started emerging from their hiding places again.

Lip was going to say something reassuring, something about Carl and his newest pet project, when Mickey rubbed a hand down his chest.  It caught at the top of his tank, tugging the neck down just enough to let black letters peek out over the top.

Lip squinted, sure he wasn’t seeing it correctly.  But he was.

Ian Galager

He didn’t mention it to Mickey.  He didn’t have a death wish--at least, not right then.  He couldn’t speak to a few hours in the future when Fred wouldn’t go down for the third night in a row.

Instead, he waited for Ian to return.  And return he did, eventually.  He was pale and shaking, and smelled like raw meat, but he came back physically in one piece.

Which was good, because Lip really didn’t want to deal with Mickey Milkovich if his boyfriend ended up dead on his first night out of prison.

He expected Ian to head straight upstairs, where Mickey was no doubt waiting up for him.  But instead, he beelined through the house and right out the back door, leaving Lip staring at his back as he left it open and collapsed onto the steps.

Lip gave it a breath, then followed.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked from the doorway.

Ian just shrugged.

“Will be,” he answered.  “Just needed a minute.”

“In this house?”  Lip chuckled.  “Good fucking luck.”

That got a smile, and then Ian was patting space next to himself on the step, inviting Lip to join him.  With a glance back to the living room where Fred was currently safe in his pen, he did.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked casually.

“Not really,” Ian said.  “That a problem?”

It was Lip’s turn to shrug.

“Not really,” he replied, then grinned when Ian whacked him with the back of one hand.

They sat quietly together for a moment, just breathing, like Ian wanted.  But Lip wasn’t great at being silent, and he was a big brother, so...

“Did you know Mickey has a fucking tattoo on his chest?”

Ian snorted out a laugh, and stared at him, incredulous.

“Are you asking me if I knew that Mickey, the man I’ve been sleeping with since I was a teenager, the man that I just spent a year in a cell with--frequently naked--”

Lip grimaced at that mental image.

“--has a tattoo?” Ian finished, and Lip rolled his eyes.

“I mean, when you put it that way, it makes it sound stupid.”

“No shit,” Ian said, and then they were quiet again.

“He did it after I broke up with him, you know,” Ian murmured, a moment later.  “In prison, the first time, right before I stopped going to see him.”

Lip stared.  Licked his lips.

“That’s, uh,” he started, trailed off.  “That’s kinda fucked up, man.”

Ian snorted.

“Tell me about it,” he laughed lightly.  “He carves my name into his fucking chest, and then I don’t even see him again until he tracks me down and has me fucking kidnapped.”

Ian ran a hand through his hair, looked up at Lip through the fringe it loosened.

“I sure was boyfriend of the year, huh?” 

“That’s...not what I meant, Ian,” Lip said slowly.  “Meant it was a fucked up thing for him to do, to try and make you feel responsible for him.”

From the surprise in Ian’s eyes, he could tell that his brother had never even considered that angle.

“No,” Ian said immediately.  “That’s not what it was at all.”

“Yeah?  How do you know that?” Lip returned just as quickly.  “It’s like a girl getting pregnant when you wanna break up with her, but he branded himself instead.”

Ian raised an eyebrow.

“That what happened with Tami?” he questioned, and Lip shook his head.

“No, of course not--”

“Well it’s not what happened with Mickey, either,” Ian affirmed.  Then he smirked.  “God, can you imagine Mickey pregnant though?”

Lip’s laugh caught in his throat, and then they were giggling together, right there on the back steps like they were ten years old again, sharing stolen candy and hiding from Fiona.

“Sounds like you like it, then,” Lip commented once they had simmered down and caught their breaths.  “Having that monstrosity inked on him forever.”

“Monstrosity?” Ian repeated in mock outrage.  “That’s what you think of it?”

Lip looked him right in the eye.  

“Ian,” he intoned seriously, “he didn’t even spell your name right.”

Ian just shrugged.

“Shows what you know,” he retorted.  “Maybe you’re the one that can’t spell it.”

He held Lip’s gaze for a beat, two.  Then they were off again, and Lip nearly fell off the edge of the step with the force of his laughter.

“I really do, though,” Ian revealed a few minutes later, when they had quieted again.  “I like it a lot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ian said.  “He thought I was leaving him--I did leave him--and he still wanted part of me to stay, you know?”  He rubbed a hand at his chest, over his heart, like it ached.

“He wanted me with him even when I didn’t want myself,” he continued.  “And he could have got rid of it, later, when I let him down again.”  

He stared out over the darkened yard, speaking more to himself than to Lip.  

“But he didn’t,” Ian finished.  “He kept me.”

Lip hummed.  Raised a hand to slap Ian on the back, between his shoulders, hard enough to send him forward over his knees.

“Guess that means we have to keep him then?” he jested.

Ian just smiled.

“Yeah,” he agreed.  “Yeah, I think we do.”

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 9

Chapter 1     Chapter 8

Marinette stopped a few feet from the corner of the restaurant at which M. Wayne had made their reservation in order to collect herself. She checked her reflection in the restaurant’s darkened windows to make sure nothing had changed in the past few minutes. It wasn’t that she wanted to impress M. Wayne, but she didn’t want to make him think less of her either.  She wanted to be perfect for him and yeah, maybe, she wanted to impress him, make him want to stay… this time.

She brushed her bangs out of her face a little rougher than she intended to, trying to force those thoughts out of her head and punish herself for thinking them in the first place.  This wasn’t about making him like her.  She lived this long without him.  She didn’t need him.  She’d be just fine without him.  She had been so far.  It didn’t matter if he didn’t love her.  It didn’t matter if he didn’t like her.  It didn’t mean she was unloveable.  

She watched as her reflection deflated.  It just meant that one of the two people who were biologically programmed to love her no matter what, didn’t.  That he fought through biology to brush her off. She shook her head and stood straight up again.  But! But, that didn’t make her unloveable.  Jagged did the same to Luka and Juleka and they were two of the most amazing people she knew.  They weren’t unloveable, and neither was she. They repaired their relationship and so could she.

This was about adding to her family, not filling a hole in her life.  There was no Bruce Wayne shaped hole in her life.  His opinion of her didn’t matter.  His opinion of her didn’t change who she was.  She was going to be who she was around him and if he didn’t like it, she lost nothing.  She would still have an amazing family.  She would still have amazing friends.  She would still be loved.

This was about him fitting into her life.  Not the other way around.  This was about her deciding if there was a place for him.  If she wanted him there, to give him a chance or not.  This was about getting answers so she could make those decisions.  She took a breath.  This was about giving him a chance to speak and for her to listen to what he said.

She nodded to her reflection resolutely and pushed through the doors to the restaurant’s waiting area.  Her eyes widened incrementally seeing the lobby. It screamed luxury and exclusivity. Only certain people were allowed here and Marinette was confident if she hadn’t been meeting Bruce Wayne, she wouldn’t be considered one of those people.  The maître d’ eyed her with a sneer that looked so at home on his face it must have been his normal expression.

She gave him a nervous smile.  “I’m here for a reservation under the name Wayne.”  The maître d’ looked her up and down and gave a curt nod.  He walked toward the doors to the dining room without saying anything to her.

Marinette smoothed down her hair one last time as the maître d’ led her through the doors to the dining area.  She clutched her purse so tightly her knuckles were turning white.  She really hoped Tikki had found a different spot to hide in, because otherwise it had to be incredibly uncomfortable for her. Marinette was focusing all of her tension into her hand and forcing the rest of her body to relax so she wouldn’t appear as terrified as she actually was.  Now if she could just get her heart to start beating in a regular rhythm, she’d be all set.

She gave a nervous smile to Bruce as he stood to greet her and struggled to remember any part of the pep talk she had just given herself a few minutes ago. Because as soon as she saw his relieved and excited face, she started forgetting.  It was not about wanting to see that expression on his face and knowing she was the cause.  This was about her.  She should not be filled with anxiety about making him lose that expression and wanting to walk away.  He was proving himself, she wasn’t proving herself.

“Marinette!”  He gave her a warm smile and held his hand out to shake hers while she went in for a cheek kiss greeting at the same time.  He chuckled awkwardly and quickly shifted his hand to her arm as he kissed her cheek as well.  He nodded to the maître d’ and pulled her chair out for her.  As soon as they were alone, he sat down anxiously.  “Thank you again for agreeing to meet me.  You look nice.”

Marinette smiled and nodded to him.  “So do you.  And thank you for agreeing at such short notice.”

He chuckled nervously.  His eyes darted between her, his glass of wine, the menu, really anything as he searched for his next words.  It shouldn’t be this hard.  He spoke to boardrooms of hostile and dangerous businesspeople.  Speaking to his daughter shouldn’t be harder.  She wasn’t going to destroy a city.  She wasn’t going to undermine entire groups of people just so she could make a few more dollars.  She wasn’t dangerous… well, not to anyone but him.  With him, she had the power to destroy his heart with just one word.

“I ordered a merlot if you would like some.  If not, I can call someone in…”

He started to get up to call someone over, but Marinette lunged at him to get him to sit down and not draw attention to them, knocking over his glass of merlot. Marinette’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh no, no, no, no,” she whimpered helplessly.  She grabbed a few napkins to clean it up.  Why?  Why did her clumsiness have to act up now?  In front of M. Wayne.  Why did she have to be such a klutz?  She could feel the tears stinging her eyes as they tried to escape.

“Marinette,” Bruce cooed gently.  He gently gripped her wrists and pulled them away from the table.  “Marinette, it’s okay.  It happens.  You should see a normal dinner at the manor.  If there isn’t at least one spill or something isn’t broken, we start thinking someone is sick.”  She finally looked up at him apprehensively and he could feel the breath leaving his chest. His eyes softened and he tried to give her an encouraging smile.  “It’s fine. We can just move to another table and I’ll leave a big tip.”

Her eyes widened even larger and she looked around.  “We can’t just…”  She stopped when she noticed the empty restaurant.  It was prime dinnertime, or at least it was in France.  Maybe a bit early, but not uncommon.  But this restaurant was completely empty.  Not even families with kids.  And there was no way M. Wayne would choose a restaurant that nobody liked.  “Do Gothamites eat dinner really early?  Or really late?” she whispered, not wanting to break the silence that engulfed them.

“Hmm?” Bruce hummed in confusion.

“There aren’t any… It just isn’t as crowded as I would expect,” she explained. “Not that that doesn’t work in my favor in this case.”

“Oh,” he nodded his head in realization and gave her a soft smile. “No, not as crowded as the place usually is.  I rented it out.”

“You rented out the entire restaurant?” she whispered incredulously. “At the last minute?”

Bruce’s smile widened at the astonished look on her face.  “I didn’t want people gawking at us all night or taking pictures and the manor is rather hectic.”  He grimaced slightly at the thought.  “Not to mention, we’d have just as many gawkers there.  And I wanted this first meeting to be just between us.  So I made sure we had some privacy.”

Marinette shook her head.  “Right. Forgot.  Rich.”

Bruce chuckled too.  “Yeah, I forget sometimes too.”  He sat at a table next to the one they had been sitting at.

Marinette scoffed lightly and joined him at the new table.  “I doubt that.”  She slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes going wide as she stared at him. “Sorry.  I’m sorry.  That was… so rude,” she stuttered.  She dropped her eyes quickly.  She mentally berated herself for sabotaging this so efficiently.  She doubted she could do it more effectively if she were trying.

Bruce shook his head.  “No, not at all.  You’re not wrong.  And a lot more polite about it than Jason would have been.  Or Stephanie.”

Marinette looked back up at him through her bangs.  “Oh… um… okay.”

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut behind his menu.  He was screwing this up so badly.  Instead of making her feel more comfortable, he was making her increasingly nervous and doubtful.  He pursed his lips as he searched for anything to talk about to lighten the mood. “I hope you like it here.  The food is really good.”  He had to stop himself from physically slapping himself for that terrible non-sequitur.  His entire job was to say things in an engaging, elegant way.  It was a skill he’d started honing decades ago.  Where was that training now?

Marinette opened her menu as well with an anxious smile.  “Great.  I’m starving.”

“Hi Starving, I’m your father.”

Marinette blinked a few times at him, trying to catch his eye but he was staring blankly at his menu.  “Did you just…”

“I admit to nothing,” he answered flatly, still staring at his menu.  

Marinette continued to stare for a few seconds before breaking down into giggles, the tension that had been building since she entered the restaurant breaking with his joke.  “I… I can’t… believe you sai… said that,” she gasped out between laughs.

He watched her with an amused glint in his eyes and a relieved smile.  “Do not tell your siblings.  Dick will pout for a week that he wasn’t here to hear it.”

Marinette let her giggles die down and nodded.  She looked up at him with a much more relaxed smile.  “Not known for your sense of humor?”

“No, definitely not,” Bruce shook his head with a grin.  He set down his menu to focus on Marinette.  “Jason used to tease me mercilessly about it.”

Marinette quirked her head to the side, an amused smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.  “And was Jason a comedian or he just liked to tease you?”

“A little of both.  Dick is more of our comedian.  He’s usually the first to make a joke… to lighten the mood.  Stephanie will make a fool out of herself to get you to smile, or herself.  She likes being over the top.  But Jason, when he was a kid, was excited about everything.  Everything in life was new and exciting.  He was constantly smiling and bouncing from thing to thing. So optimistic.”  Bruce’s eyes unfocused as he remembered the first year after Jason came to the manor.

Marinette furrowed her brow in doubt.  Not a single one of those words were ones she would use to describe Jason from the time she’d spent with him.  Maybe her translation of the words was wrong?  “Jason?  Jason Todd. Your son Jason.”

Bruce chuckled wryly.  “Yes, that Jason. “  A pained expression flashed across his face morphing into a sad frown he didn’t even try to hide.  “A lot changed over the years.  Some… things happened about eight years ago.  It changed all of us.”

Marinette let out a dry laugh as images of Hawaiian shirts and rock giants flashed through her head.  She turned back to her menu to avoid his eyes.  “I can understand that.”

Bruce furrowed his brow, a guilty frown settling on his lips for a few seconds before he plastered on a smile.  “Now he’s more likely to make a sarcastic remark than a joke.  But, he’s fiercely protective of his family, maybe more than any of the rest of us.”

Marinette thought back over their interactions and slowly started nodding. “He seems like it.”  She paused when the waitress came in to take their orders. She smiled politely while the waitress was in the room, acting the part of a dutiful, happy daughter rather than a temperamental stranger who took her frustrations and insecurities out on him without letting him explain.  And that’s what this was about, letting him explain.  But before he could do that, she needed to make sure he knew she wasn’t mad. Well… that she wasn’t going to attack him anyway.

As soon as the waitress left, her shield was gone.  She could no longer hide behind the façade.  Now she had to face him.  She looked down and squeezed her eyes shut.  She took a beat before she looked back up at Bruce.  “I wanted to say sorry for how I behaved when you came to my hotel room.  I wasn’t being fair to you.  I only found out about you a few days ago and then the world found out and then you were at my door.  It was a lot all at once and I did not handle it well, so I’m sorry.”  

Even with half her face hidden from looking down as she spoke, Bruce could see the shame radiating from her expression.  When she finally looked up to make eye contact he had to force himself not to gasp at the guilt and pain in her eyes.  His heart clenched at the sight.  He hated seeing her look like that. He’d do anything to keep that look off her face.  That was his job.  That was the entire point of what he’d done.  But he failed.  He might have failed at it so far, but he was going to make up for it now… if she would let him.

His hand shot out almost too quickly to see and gently squeezed hers, hoping that at least that level of intimacy was allowed.  “No, I invaded your space.  I forced a confrontation before you were ready.  I knew I shouldn’t do that.  Sabine… your mother warned me not to do that and I did it anyway.  I’m sorry for that.  I didn’t… I didn’t want to lose my chance to…”  He looked down at the table and frowned trying to get his words in order.  

“I didn’t want you to leave before I could talk to you, to try to connect and explain.”  He looked at her almost desperately.  “You were here, right here.  So close. I couldn’t let you slip through my fingers again, not when I knew you knew.  Not when I didn’t have to keep it a secret anymore.”  He frowned and looked down at his glass, pulling his hand back into his lap.  He suddenly chuckled wryly.  “If there was ever a good reason to begin with.”

Marinette sucked in a breath not ready for this conversation yet.  She thought they’d ease into it.  Get comfortable, then get into it.  But apparently M. Wayne’s approach was to rip the Band-Aid off. Dealing with uncomfortable situations was definitely not an inherited trait because her method of avoiding any uncomfortable conversations in increasingly unlikely and embarrassing manors until the entire thing festered into a debilitating, unnecessarily explosive fiasco, was not a technique she picked up from her maman either.

Bruce looked back up at her with a determined look.  “Marinette, you had a right to react.  You had… have a right to be upset or hurt or both.  I deserved it.  Believe me, I understand that.  I’ve gotten worse from your siblings for less.  Don’t feel like you have to apologize to me.  However you react, I can take it and I’m not going to walk away again.  But I am hoping that you being here means you want to move forward, you want to try.”  He looked up at her questioningly, an edge of fear in his eyes.  “Do you?”

Marinette let out the breath she’d taken in.  She looked down and pushed a strand of hair that was still in place behind her ear, letting her fingers linger so she had something else to focus on for a moment.  When she looked back up, there was a more determined look in her eyes.  “Yes.  I… I want to listen.  I want to understand.”

Bruce nodded with a grateful smile.  “Thank you.  I know this is a lot and it hasn’t been fair to you and I’m sorry for… everything.”  

Marinette nodded.  “Thank you.” They both sat and looked in the vicinity of each other uneasily, both waiting for the other to say something first. Marinette tapped her fingers together while she waited for him to continue speaking, to give the explanation he’d promised.

Bruce was waiting for… he wasn’t sure.  Inspiration maybe.  He’d thought through what he wanted to say.  He’d gone over it all, but somehow seeing her in front of him, looking in her eyes and seeing her vulnerability laid bare, none of his excuses seemed like enough.  None of them seemed valid, but then again, they never were.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke up.  “When you were born, I was younger than you are now and I didn’t think I’d be able to be a good father.”  He frowned at the table.  “And in my head it was better for you to not be with me at all.  I thought I’d bring you down.  But your mother…” he gave her a wan smile, “she was always strong and good. I knew she would be an amazing mother… without my interference.  I thought you had a better chance away from me and Gotham and in my idiot mind that meant cutting off all contact.”

“But you took in other kids,” she pointed out timidly.

Bruce nodded and flicked his eyes up to hers before looking back down in guilt. “I didn’t intend to.  I came across Dick about awhile after your mother took you to France.  He lost his parents.  They died, were killed in front of his eyes, like mine had been.  He was angry and violent.  He needed someone and I thought I could help.  I might not be a good parent, but I could help him… keep him from becoming… me.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed sympathetically.  “Would that be bad?”

Bruce cringed slightly, remembering how he was at the time.  “Yes, it would have.  Anger and desperation?  They can do bad things to a person.”  He looked at her pointedly.  “Makes you make terrible decisions.”

Marinette nodded in understanding.  She understood how far desperation could drive a person.  She understood how dark some people could go. She understood how bad things could get if they continued unchecked.  She’d fought those people.  She’d helped defeat one of them.  And no matter how bad the battle was, it was always harder handling them after they were defeated, when all they had was their grief.

“Jason… he came a few years later.  He was alone and on the streets.  He was tough and smart and so excited about life, but he was never going to get the opportunity to do anything on the streets.”

“And you wanted to help him too,” Marinette finished his unfinished thought.

“Yeah. He needed someone to let him be a kid, let him be passionate, to love him like a parent should.  And I couldn’t leave him there.  And Tim… he kind of snuck in and declared himself family.  He wasn’t wrong.  He is.  He came along after Jason… was gone.  He filled a void I didn’t even know I had until he stepped in.  And I hope I’ve done the same for him.  He didn’t have the best childhood either.  And now… I can’t imagine the family without him.”

Marinette gave him a small smile.  “Sounds like he adopted you.”

Bruce nodded absently, his eyes taking on a far-off focus as he remembered the past. “Sometimes children are smarter than their parent.  In the case of my kids,” he looked up at her meaningfully, “all of them, it’s true.

“They didn’t have a better choice… you did.  And in my idiotic self-destructive mind, I was helping you.  I was convinced for more than a decade that the best thing I’d done in my life, the most selfless, was walk away from you, not force you to have to suffer with dealing with me.  But I was just afraid and selfish.  I made a stupid choice.  By the time I realized how monumentally I’d screwed up, Jason was gone and by the time I got my head back on right, Damian was here and Damian needed all my attention.”

“You didn’t have Damian since he was a baby?”

Bruce shook his head.  “No.  I didn’t even know about him until he was ten. Then his mother just dropped him off with me.  His childhood…” Bruce let out a long breath.  “His grandfather taught him since birth that he needed to earn love, or as close as he’s capable to love.  Damian’s mother told him he was better than everyone else… so you can imagine the kinds of issues we had for quite a while.”

He gave a proud smile.  “He’s made such a big change since he came.  He’s grown so much.”

“You sound proud,” she observed poignantly.

Bruce’s smile turned bittersweet.  “I’m proud of all of my kids.  You’re all amazing people.  I don’t know how I ended up with so many amazing kids.”

She smiled and hoped it didn’t come off as awkward as it felt.  “So what about Duke?  And I think Jason mentioned sisters.”

Bruce nodded.  “Cass is the only one I adopted.  Stephanie is just around enough that she’s essentially a child.  Same with Barbara.  I ran into Cass while I was travelling.  Her parents were mentally and physically abusive to the point that she didn’t speak until she was a teenager.”  Marinette gasped.  “She’s a lot better.  She communicates with us a lot, mostly through sign language.  And Duke… Joker tortured his parents because they saved me once.”

Marinette gasped and grasped his hand, squeezing it.  When he met her eyes she gave him another encouraging squeeze and a warm smile.  “They’ve all come such a long way.  I’m sure a better parent could have done more but somehow we’ve all become a slightly dysfunctional family.  Watching them… It’s amazing to see how far they’ve all come.  They’ve all had to fight so hard, go against so many obstacles.”

“It sounds like you’ve done a lot of work with all of them.  And they’ve grown amazingly with you watching over them. They were incredibly lucky to have you,” Marinette said quietly a strained smile on her face, no longer making eye contact with Bruce.  She took back her hand to take a drink of her wine.

Those were valid reasons.  She could admit that and she didn’t begrudge them the better life being with M. Wayne afforded them, but still…  She fought frowning at her lap.  It all made sense.  Every step made sense.  They needed someone and he could provide, so he did.  From an objective perspective.  It made sense.  Did it make her a bad person if that didn’t make her feel better?  What did it say about her that she was still hurt?  That she still was angry, felt betrayed?  That it wasn’t enough?

Bruce’s face fell as he watched her change in demeanor.  His chest clenched.  “I never stopped thinking about you and how you were doing.  I never stopped loving you.”  He reached out for her hand but let his hand dropped when she didn’t offer it readily.  “I know you don’t feel that way about me, you just met me, but I’ve loved you from the moment you were born.  And I know it’s hard to see and I don’t show it well… at all… but I’ve always tried to make sure you were taken care of, that you never wanted for anything. I’ve kept up on your life to make sure.

“And I need you to know it was never because I didn’t want you.  It was never that I thought my other kids were better than you in any way.  It was never because I didn’t think you were good enough. I didn’t think I was.  I thought you deserved better than I could ever give you, better than you could get in Gotham.  But running away wasn’t the way to do that, and I realize that.”  He was unsure how to interpret the wide eyed look Marinette was giving him, but he plowed on, needing to say it anyway.

“I really did intend to try to connect.  That’s why I went to your final showing.  I showed pictures of your work to someone on the fabric project and said I happened to see you there.”  He chuckled lightly and shook his head.  “I thought I’d have to do a bunch of conniving behind the scenes to get Lucius to use you.  But as it turns out, he’s just as excited to get you on the project as I was.  He mentioned you to me after you spoke with him.”

Marinette smiled.  It was small and self-conscious, but significantly better for Bruce to see than the strained smile she’d had earlier.  “M. Fox is a very nice man.  I liked speaking with him a lot.”  

“And he is quite fond of you.”  Bruce smiled fondly at her but his smile quickly turned conspiratorial.  “I think he likes you better than he likes me, actually.”

Marinette straightened up in her seat.  “I plan on accepting his offer to consult on the project.”  She looked up to make eye contact with Bruce.  Her body tensed slightly in preparation for her next words.  “If… if that’s okay with you.”

Marinette gave a small, uncertain smile when she saw Bruce’s brilliant smile. “Yes!  That’s great to hear.”  His face turned serious.  “What does that mean for… do you want to…”

“I was hoping to take you up on the apartment offer as well… if that’s still an option.”  Marinette looked down again, her anxiety back.  “It will help Max while he settles in and I thought I could use it while I figure out how the project is going to work and what the requirements on my time will be.”  She tapped her fingers together, unable to control her fidgeting.  She looked up nervously.  “I thought it would also give us a chance to see each other more and your other kids.”

“Absolutely.  It is absolutely still available.  If you want your own apartment, I can get a penthouse for you.  Or you’re welcome to stay at the manor,” he rambled excitedly.

“M. Wayne,” Marinette interrupted.  Bruce immediately sobered at her serious expression.  “I don’t need special treatment.  I don’t need you to buy me things.  And I don’t know how long I’ll be in town.  Adrien and I are trying to figure out where we want to set up and I’ll need to start taking commissions again.”

Bruce nodded.  “I understand.  Sorry. I got excited and got carried away. Rich, you know… it’s how we show love.”

Marinette’s face immediately soured as she thought of Adrien’s and Chloe’s childhoods. “That’s not love you’re showing. I’m staying to get to know you and your family, not get things.”

Bruce blinked at her a few times.  “Right. I know that.  I never thought it was,” he assured her awkwardly.  He took a sip of his wine and glanced around the room. He suddenly perked up.  “Speaking of commissions, I was hoping we could finally commission you… if that’s okay!” he added quickly.  “I don’t want to put pressure on you.  I’ve just been waiting to get something made by you for years.”

Marinette blinked a few times and looked down.  Her brow furrowed.  She fought letting out a sigh.  “No, you’re right.  I should.”

“We’ll pay you, of course,” he insisted.

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “I’m not going to charge you to make something for you.”

Bruce shook his head.  “You run a business.  I’m commissioning the business.  I can cover our commission.”

Marinette huffed and narrowed her eyes at him.  “Compromise.  You pay for materials.  Nothing more.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes back at her.  “Materials and time.”

Marinette huffed out a laugh.  “Okay fine.”

Bruce grinned.  “I’m excited to work with you.  I wasn’t kidding.  I’ve wanted to commission you for years.  I’m a fan of your style and art.”

Marinette opened her mouth but closed it quickly when the waitress came back in with their food.  Bruce leaned back so she could set the plates down.  “Speaking of, how would you feel about going to the art museum tomorrow and then maybe get some lunch after?”

Marinette nodded.  “Oh yeah, there was an exhibit that looked interesting.”  She nodded to the waitress and thanked her.  The waitress lingered for just a moment before leaving the room.

“Would 9 work for you? Oh, no wait.” He scrunched his face in annoyance.  “I have a meeting at 10.  It should be done by noon though.”  He looked up and gave her an earnest look.  “I’ll make sure it is done by noon.  How about lunch then art museum?”

Marinette smiled and nodded.  “That sounds good.”

“Great.  I can bring the keys for the new apartment.  Now, I’ve done all the talking.  Tell me more about you.  Tell me about your friends.”  He took a bite giving Marinette his full attention while Marinette talked about her friends and how they had all met and some stories about their time together.  

She started out slowly, building up more confidence as she spoke.  The more she spoke the more comfortable she was with what she wanted to say.  The quicker she was able to filter out what information she didn’t want to share. She wasn’t ready to give him much yet, not enough to do anything with, not more than he could probably get from searching Instagram or Tik Tok, but it was a start.  A start to what exactly, she wasn’t sure.  But it was a start to something.

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone@ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

XXVIII. get the balance right

✘ Synopsis : the sudden truth drop from Niki had them all growing silent, finally looking around to take notice that you and Jungwon were gone. Jay never thought about being with you, it hadn’t crossed his mind. it had been weeks, almost two months, and all he could think about was going back home, but now that you were missing, not just that, but missing with another one of the guys, he finally understood why everyone felt the way they did, he wanted you just as much as they did and he absolutely hated that he felt that way.

✘ Pairing : ??? x F!Reader

✘ TW : one-sided pining ; Jayfused ; annoyance ; irritation ; a lot of internal dialoging ; self-questioning ; but at least there’s no fighting ;

✘ Word Count : 1.5k

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

All of them fell onto the couch in a sort of lump, a lump of men who had just been given the biggest slap, the biggest wake up call of their lives, and none of them knew how to process it. What they hated the most though was the fact that they had to hear it from Niki of all people, the one who had the least experience in life, he was the one that should be needing guidance with things like this, but instead he was serving the facts like they were on sale. 

Sunoo had long since gone into one of the bedrooms, taking it upon himself to remove himself from the circle of shame, which is what Jay will now call it since it feels like nothing but that. The absence of Sunoo let on the fact that there was more than one member missing from the little circle, and while one of them felt like he shouldn’t be involved in the ridicule from the youngest, the other surely should be there considering he’s as much a problem as the rest of them are being claimed to be. 

“Where’s Jungwon?” Jay spoke up, catching the attention of everyone else who had been silently sulking, their eyes immediately becoming focused on their surroundings. “He better not be in the room with her, that’ll be pretty fucked up, wouldn’t it?” He wasn’t exactly trying to create a mob, but his words had given the men that mob mentality as they pushed themselves up off the couch and walked towards your bedroom door. 

Now, nobody really wanted to potentially see what Sunghoon had walked in on that morning, so as soon as the door was pushed open by multiple sets of hands, they all turned away, as if needing to mentally prepare for what they could possibly turn back and see. The problem was… They hadn’t mentally prepared for what they actually saw, and that was… nothing. They saw nothing, you weren’t there, Jungwon wasn’t there, the room was as empty as it had been when they all first got to the cabin, and this sudden sinking feeling overwhelmed Jay to the point where he felt like he was about to be physically ill. 

See, there was a problem, an internal dilemma if you may, that Jay had been trying to avoid, to push back and ignore for the longest time. The dilemma wasn’t that big of an issue at first, and when it had first made itself known, he had assumed that the only reason he was having problems like that in the first place was because all the other guys were too, so he had hopped on the little bandwagon and played along. It was more like a bit to him than real emotions, at least that’s the way he thought it had been. 

Jay never really let it sink in that he liked you. He thought that he had been pretending, he assumed that he was so good at it, that the feelings actually felt real. A lot of people would wonder what the hell was wrong with him, why he would do something so elaborately fucked up… And to that… He didn’t have a legitimate answer, not one that was good enough to speak at least. 

To Jay, it was… just as Niki had said. It was a game, it was a sick game no doubt, but a game all the same. He enjoyed the look of anger that would plaster itself on the other men’s faces whenever he’d cozy up to you, he loved the way they seethed when he walked out of the bedroom with you when you’d sleep together. They were like open books, their eyes were the paragraphs and he loved every single word that he was reading, it boosted his ego, it gave him some sick sense of enjoyment watching the assumptions play out like a mini movie in their minds. 

Sure, he’d feel something whenever he’d see you with another member, but he couldn’t quite understand what it was, so he wrote it off as just being disgusted at the way they were with you, not at the fact that they were actually with you. At the end of each and every fucked up day that only seemed to be getting worse, the only thing he truly wanted was to go back home. He couldn’t really understand how everyone else could grow so comfortable in a matter of days, how they all could seem to forget about everything else just to follow you around like a pack of puppies. He couldn’t understand, and he didn’t even want to begin the process of attempting to understand because it made him ill. 

As fucked as it seemed, you were simply a source of entertainment to him, like one of those k-dramas that he frequently watched when he was at home and had the time. Now he had the time and no power, so he had to help create the drama, he had to give himself something to sit back and enjoy. The only thing that made this real life drama better was the fact that he didn’t have to wait a week for new episodes, he got them every single day. 

That’s how things were, that’s how things were supposed to be and that’s how they were supposed to stay until things got good enough again for him to be taken out of here. And sure, many people would probably question his sanity, his moral compass, but did they really have the right to do that when there were people in the world doing much worse to others? Was he not allowed to have some sort of fun during what could be the last days of his life? Did it really matter what kind of fun it was? 

Two months, almost three now, he had been playing the game, he had been feeding into the anger and jealousy of the other members, even promoting it some days, and he had never felt an ounce of regret, he had no regards, everything had been done for personal enjoyment, but now… Now those feelings changed, and he hated that they did. 

You could have ran away from that room a week ago, you could have been long gone and none of them would have noticed, but you had stayed, you had kept yourself locked away but you had still been under the same roof as them. He had never worried about you before, he felt no need to, but now that you were gone… actually gone… It was terrifying. 

“Dammit… It’s her fault… All of it is her fault… I don’t care for her… Yes I do… No…” He argued with himself in his mind as everyone else seemed to move in a blur around him. Surely the only reason he was really concerned was because Jungwon was gone too… But he wasn’t being honest with himself if he said that was it… Jungwon knew how to defend himself, he had been out to go hunting with them, he knew what to do. You on the other hand, you were vulnerable, you were weak, and he had seen in your eyes this morning that you looked so done, you were so far gone, you probably wouldn’t even mind if something happened to you. 

That thought had the pit in his stomach opening up, a black hole in his stomach that was sucking him deeper and deeper into himself. “She’s got six other people to worry about her, she doesn’t need anyone else. I don’t even like her… Do I? Maybe I do… Shut up…” He continued rambling on in his mind, the sound of everyone else’s panic muffled and distant in his ears, his inner voice coming through louder than anyone else ever could. 

Maybe he did like you, maybe he did love you, maybe it just took a little longer for him to realize it than anyone else. He just didn’t want to admit it to himself because he couldn’t bear the fact that you might not like him back, that you might like one of the other guys more. Maybe that’s why he liked tormenting them, why he found such joy in tormenting you, because it took away the sting that was constantly felt when he’d have that moment of realization that you’d most likely never like him back. 

Even with changed feelings though, even with the sudden change of heart, that wouldn’t make a difference, it wouldn’t make you like him back. The only thing that it now brought upon him was guilt, immense guilt which was something that he didn’t need right now. The last thing that he wanted to feel was bad for trying to make it through the end of the world in his own fucked up, selfish way. 

What a strange and stupid time to realize you’ve fallen in love with someone. What made it even more strangely comical was the fact that he had always judged the others for falling for you back in the apartment, for the pathetic pining that they did, but now… His seemed even worse. He fell for you when you were gone, when you were missing, and he didn’t even know if you’d come back. How stupid was he to love you now that you were gone…Maybe he was a bigger fool than everyone else, a bigger fool than he had thought. 

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[swtki]

Cedric Diggory NSFW Alphabet

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem! Reader

A/N: I’m gonna be working on more headcannon stuff like this, so follow me if you want to see them when they are posted!

WARNINGS: SMUT, ORAL SEX (F RECIEVING), MENTIONS OF PUBLIC SEX, 18+ ONLY

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I think Ced won’t hesitate to clean his partner up. Just a warm rag and quick wipe. Sometimes Ced will pass out as soon as he hits the mattress, but most times he’ll hold his naked body to yours and talk until you fall asleep. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part of your body is your lips, for sure. He loves to watch them wrap around things, even when you put his finger into your mouth it drives him mental. His favorite part of himself is hands, he has fairly large hands so everything in them looks small. He loves that when he holds your waist its like his hands were meant to be there. Not to mention his long fingers, one hand can do so many wonders. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I honestly don’t see him as someone who loves anything to do with cum. He would be more than happy to wear a condom while you’re dating, because that way he can make sure you enjoy it without the worries of unprotected sex. I also can see him not wanting to go raw because so many things could go wrong, but if you’re on birth control he will definitely be persuaded to pull out. Once he pulls out the first time he is utterly hooked and loves cumming on your stomach while you lay there on your back, looking all fucked out.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Not to say that Cedric secretly wants to explore public sex, however I am saying every time you two go out hes thinking of railing you in an alley against a brick wall. He loves public affection in a sfw way so I think he would be eager to explore nsfw public stuff. Now this all being said, he doesn’t ask you for a long time though, until you’re walking home from the shops and he starts to kiss you because god you look so gorgeous in the soft lighting, and then the kiss gets more intense. Then, he basically says fuck it and asks you if he can eat you out on the wall.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Like I said in Cedrics headcannon post, I doubt he lost his virginity with anyone other than Cho when they were maddly in love. When he meets you he wants to be nothing less than perfect. When things started to get serious in your relationship he swallowed his pride and looked up sex tips because he was worried he wasn’t experienced enough. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. No doubt about it. He loves how accessible it is for you, he can rub your clit, he can be chest to chest and thrust into you, he can be hypnotized by your perfect tits, it has everything. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Theres times where he kills the moment because he makes a joke in between thrusts, but more often than not hes got his head in the game. It will always start of playful and innocent with Cedric, but as soon as hands start roaming, he gets focused on the task at hand.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He isn’t shaven, but tidy for sure. Just a nice little bit at the base and he’s groomed. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Cedric loves nothing more than to brush the hair out of your face and stare into your eyes while your blissed out. Also he loves kissing and touching even before clothes come off. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I can see Cedric having a pretty high sex drive and sometimes you have to tap out for the night because your body can only take so much, so he’ll for sure be rubbing one out in the bathroom as soon as you fall asleep. He doesn’t mind of course, he’d rather you be comfortable even if that means he has to jerk off in the shower to the memory of twenty minutes prior.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I thoroughly believe that Cedric Diggory has a praise kink. He loves nothing more than growling “So fucking perfect, my perfect fucking girl” into your ear during sex. I also think he has a roleplay kink, because you dressed up as a nurse for halloween and he was in another dimension.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As I said previously, Cedric likes the idea of walls. However, I think he much prefers the bed or floor of your room. It just feels like you two are the only ones in the world and he cant deny how much of an angel you look like while surrounded by his soft white sheets. He would settle for a car, but your home is much better.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Kissing is his number one movement to start things off, so I think just kissing him would make him ready to go. I can see him having a thing for lip biting, especially when you’re reading or doing some other innocent task.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

If its something you don’t like, he won’t ever do it. He draws the line at bodily injury and excretory body fluids, Cedrics not hardcore like that. Wouldn’t mind choking you but he could never slap you or hurt you in any other way.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Cedric prefers giving, he feels bad because he takes so long to finish so he always leaves it up to you. He is an absolute got at eating coochie though, he pays attention to what you do and don’t like. And he would honestly eat you out anywhere. Like sometimes he just drops to his knees and hikes your leg up. His eyes when he looks up at you tho....fuck.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely depends on the moment but I think most of the time he’s sensual and slow. He wants the world to stop and for it to only be your bodies moving in sync with each other, and especially so he can look into your eyes while he gets you closer and closer to orgasm.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves the whole rose petal romantic 2 hour long sex thing but will rip off your underwear in a closet to eat you out if he can.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He only takes risks by asking about something. He would always get your consent before anything else happens, so he knows worst you could do is say no. That being said, if you ask him 97% of the time he’s on board. Public sex took some convincing but he was in love with it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I just think he’s ready to eat pussy 24/7 despite how hard he is. He’s horny all the time (in spirit if not physically) so I think he would go for multiple rounds. Though he will eventually get tired in one position, so you end up switching through 50 different positions in the span of the hour.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only toys Cedric uses on his partner are handcuffs at most. He prefers to use his skill because after all, he’s the one who should be making you feel that good.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Cedric isn’t the tease, you are. He wants you but simply can’t take you from behind during potions class, so he rests his hand on your thigh. He secretly loves how cocky you get, and secretly you love how turned on he is from your legs.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Listen to me: breathy moans. He’ll get so close to your ear and start whisper-moaning the most risque words. But, volume wise he’s quiet and he prefers it that way. He never wants to drown out the pretty mewls you make because of his fingers and cock.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He eats pussy that way iykyk. I’m glad every fic writer agrees that Ced is a pussy conesiour, because he loves grabbing your hips and pulling you down closer on his tongue, thats non negotiable. He probably has the strongest tongue in the world.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He thought he was small until he met you and was like “Sorry, I’m not that impressive 😔” then pulled out 6 inches of cervix shattering dick. Its thick too, but not like the porn-type thick, like it fits in your hand comfortably and fills you up perfectly.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Like I said: Always horny. Every time he watches you bite your lip he’s got a million things he wants to do to you in a broom closet.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He would rather watch you fall asleep even if that meant he never slept. But once he knows you’re sleeping, he wraps his body around yours with his chin on your shoulder and falls asleep. Prefect rooms= naked naps.

Taglist: @annasdani @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @faeinorbit @anchoeritic @cedricsyellowscarf

[shokami]

featuring tsukishima, kenma, oikawa, and semi

genre fluff

word count 1.7k

tsukishima kei

if anyone were to be asked “do you think tsukishima likes to cuddle?” their answer would most definitely be no. which is false.

although he will always tease you about it first and foremost, he secretly enjoys his cuddling time with you.

the teasing has to happen, because it is almost always you who’s trying to initiate the cuddling first.

tsukki thinks that if he were to try to cuddle with literally anyone else, he would hate it. it isn’t because he’s not a people person, but because he’s only ever really cuddled with you. so he’s accustomed to the way you cuddle.

cuddling usually starts when you’re both in the middle of your movie binging, and you’ll be all wrapped up in blankets and eating snacks.

you always curl up underneath his arm, and cuddle into his side— or try to find a way to weasel your way into his lap.

your attempts at trying to get as physically close to him as possible, never fail to amuse him. he scoffs at your effort, and repositions you in a way that’s more comfortable for the two of you.

when it comes to finally sleeping, you’re still cuddled underneath his arm but he’ll pull you in more so that you can lay on his chest and entangle yourself with him.

you’re definitely a mess of limbs together.

slowly peaking your eyes open, you squinted at the absurdly bright rays of light that shined through the curtains. that was your que to finally get out of bed, and start your day.

against what tsukishima would have wanted, had he been awake— you decided to try and squirm your way out from under his grasp. you knew he hated that you were an early bird, he detests that about you everyday and he isn’t afraid to tell you.

as you attempted to wiggle out of the bed, you knew there was no way for you to escape his hold on you without waking him up. always unfortunate for you, considering he was a very grumpy morning person.

you could always smooth it over with a few good morning kisses though, he seemed to enjoy those.

just as you thought you could make it, you were almost out of arm's reach when the familiar cold fingers grasped around your wrist and pulled you back down on top of him. “where do you think you’re going?”

“i wanna go shower, tsukki.” you groaned, already hearing the annoyance in his voice before even seeing his expression. “you could always get your lazy butt up, and come with.”

he groaned, tossing you to the side and pulling you into his chest in a new position. “why can’t we ever sleep in? you have an annoying sleeping pattern.”

“it’s not annoying! you just want to sleep in until 10, every weekend. we lose time like that.”

“yeah, obviously. that’s how time works.”

“tsukishima kei.”

“shut up. go back to sleep, and you can be cute later.”

another sigh, and you relaxed against tsukishima and the pillows once more. there was no use in trying to defy his need to sleep in, you wouldn’t win.

kozume kenma

the two of you are always cuddling, there is no doubt about that. not one bit.

if you aren’t cuddling, you’re still finding a way to be physically touching. touch starvation is very real, and you probably both have it.

when it comes to actually cuddling though, kenma prefers to either be the little spoon or be laying between your legs / on your stomach.

it’s actually your preferred way of sleeping too, as you’re both usually on your phones, or kenma is playing a game that you’re not really paying attention to.

you absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair, scrolling through one of your social media apps, and without realizing it he’s drifted off to sleep with his arm wrapped around your waist and his head tucked into your stomach.

this is the comfiest sleeping position, but if either of you tosses and turns in your sleep it’s likely that the direct cuddling will stop.

but, the two of you will still have physical contact. kenma will either hold your hand from the opposite side of the bed, or you’ll still be close enough that your leg is brushing against his underneath the pile of blankets.

eventually though, you’ll probably roll over behind him and koala yourself against his back before repeating the cycle of tossing and turning again.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“kenma make it stop.” you pulled the blanket up over your head, cursing the alarm.

he made no noise, or movement— sleeping through the sound as if the room was silent.

you didn’t know why either of you ever had it set, it wasn’t like the two of you ever woke up at a decent hour. especially not when the god awful sound of it started screaming at you. it was always shut off, and tossed to the side. you made a mental note to tell kenma that you should just throw it out.

“KENMA! ALARM. OFF.”

finally snapping out of his sleep, he sat up startled by the noise of the alarm and your irritated sleepy voice. quickly slapping at the alarm on the nightstand, he silenced the beeping. climbing underneath the blankets to get closer to you in the dark room, you offered him a tired smile.

it was going to be another one of those days, where you continue to convince each other to sleep in just a little longer each hour. the previous nights antics, of screaming at the television screen at the new game you both decided to play, you were both overly exhausted and craved sleep. again.

“what time did the clock say?” you asked, pecking a kiss to his nose.

“11:30 a.m,” he closed his eyes once more, snuggling into you. “wanna sleep in longer?”

“i thought you’d never ask, kenken.”

oikawa tooru

he is almost always the big spoon. he loves how you fit into his arms, and feeling like he can protect you from the world.

it definitely gives him a certain type of satisfaction that he never really knew he needed, until he got to cuddle in bed with you for the first time.

oikawa being the big spoon helps him feel needed. which is something that he needs a lot of constantly, honestly.

however, there are times when you get to be the big spoon.

these times come after he’s had long tiresome practices, particularly hard days, or after losing a match.

more often than not, you end up in this sleeping position because he asked, or you came into the bedroom after he was already dozing off.

either way, you will always gladly oblige and climb into bed after him.

you always make sure to play with his hair, by softly brushing it away from his face

you were enjoying the body heat that was radiating off of oikawa, the warmth spread through you in the most comforting way. your internal clock could sense that the sun was rising, and ultimately you knew what came with that. that didn’t stop your unconscious mind hoping for the opposite though. you knew oikawa had already had a rough practice the day before, and you wanted nothing more than to keep him in your arms and rest for the morning.

that fantasy was quickly shattered.

the weight of the bed began to shift, and your arms were slowly unwrapped from his torso. attempting his move from the bed, you decided to take matters into your own hands. with ease, you softly grasped the back of his t-shirt and pulled him back down to the surface.

a surprised groan, followed by soft laughter; oikawa stared down at you as if you were a sleepy child. “angel face, i have to get ready for practice.”

“no, just a little while longer… please?” you pleaded, pulling the best performance with your pouty face.

with a soft kiss, oikawa collapsed fully into your arms once more. “20 minutes,” he told you sternly.

an hour passed by, and he was still in bed with you. he just can’t say no to that face. he hates the way you pout, and use it against him.

semi eita

if he wants to cuddle, you better be prepared for him to be grumpy about it.

he doesn’t know how to directly ask you for cuddles without being awkward, or sound demanding.

usually, he’ll just lay beside you and give you very indirect gestures that he assumes you’ll know mean that it’s affection time. ( you've picked up on the indirect hints he gives you.)

it’s very rare that semi will cuddle in any position that doesn’t involve him on top of you.

similar to kenma, he will lay between your legs with his chin resting on your stomach or your chest and just hold you like that.

he is also a very touchy cuddler, meaning he will rub your thigh, your sides, and play with your hair. whatever he can touch, he will. his love language is heavily dependent on touch.

when you’re finally falling asleep wrapped up in one another, he will most likely find a comfy position to lay with his head still on your chest.

we call this position the cradle.

the moment you began to stir, you could tell you were alone in bed. you were no longer intertwined with semi, but you could hear the distant noises of rustling around in the kitchen.

it wasn’t uncommon for semi to wake up before you, sneak out of your grasp, and go on to make a cup of coffee for himself or the both of you. he never wanted to wake you up early, because you looked so peaceful sleeping that he didn’t want to ruin that.

however, that did not stop him from peaking his head into the room to see if you were awake yet. as if on que, you heard the creek of the bedroom door followed by light footsteps.

“eita,” you opened one eye, looking up to see semis drowsy expression staring back at you. “come back to bed, baby. we can sleep in.”

“... but it’s already 7 a.m.”

“7 a.m is really early. we don’t have anything to do today, right?”

“no.”

“so… sleepy time, again?”

semi rolled his eyes, knowing that you would just keep asking if he didn’t climb back into bed. he didn’t know why he bothered waking up early, if you were just going to guilt him into bed again with puppy eyes.

“you’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?” he asked you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the palm of your hand.

a/n this was not supposed to be this long, and this is what it turned out to be... tooth rotting fluff. very nice maki

© All rights reserved by SHOKAMI. Do not modify, repost on any platforms, plagiarize, or claim as your own.

[souichioneshots]

Untitled Binzo x Reader Fic

SO uhhhh.... Binzo thinks about the reasons why he hates Y/N so much? IDK you guys are kinda like frenemies ???

This is the stupidest thing ive ever written...

Might make an NSFW continuation of this if anyone shows any interest tho lollll

Enjoy?????

Binzo could remember the day you two first met like it was yesterday.

He had been awoken by the sound of his father and uncle arguing in a nearby room. Although he could barely make out what they were saying, he could tell by the way he was screaming, his father had done something unbelievably stupid again.

As the door to his room slid open, Binzo quickly moved to ‘greet’ the sudden visitor, his chains holding him back just before he was able to reach the door. A smile spread across Binzo's face as he saw his father react in a panicked motion, jumping back to avoid his son's vicious attacks. However, Binzo's laughter was put to a stop when he saw a small figure move behind the older man.

Moving a bit to the side, Souichi revealed a girl, a little under Binzo’s age, who had been hiding behind him the entire time. She gripped onto the back of the false-gentleman’s suit jacket, obviously hesitant to enter the room.

Binzo's eyes widened in surprise as his father insisted, almost pushing her into the room forcefully. His eyes looked the girl up and down, trying to figure out why his father had brought her here, let alone why he decided it would be a good idea to bring her into the same room as him.

Her clothes were almost as tattered as his own. She had no shoes on her feet, but the socks that she wore were stained black with dirt and mud. From what he could see with the little lighting in his room, the exposed skin of her arms and legs were covered in scratches and bite marks. Her cold eyes stared at the pale boy as she walked in cautiously, immediately following the older man to the other side of the room. Binzo could remember how she ran her fingers through his father's greased-up hair as he placed the chains around her ankles. They exchanged a look that his mind could not understand at the time.

Getting up from the dirty floor, Souichi stated that the girl’s name was Y/N. A name so foreign to Binzo that he was sure it was made up.

As soon as his father finally left, Binzo tried to attack you. But, that was when he found out the truth. You were a monster just like him. An abomination that someone must have tried to get rid of, only for his own idiotic father to pick up and bring home like a kitten off the street. You bared your fangs at him as you backed away into the corner, trying to avoid his sudden yet expected attack. Binzo watched as you stayed low on the floor, staring at him with angered eyes.

He should have been happy to finally meet someone like him, but he wasn’t.

Binzo hated you.

You were an idiot. You could barely keep a hold on your victims, and on nights when you couldn’t secure a meal like him, you resorted to trying to catch and eat the bugs that crawled around the room. You were also idiotic enough to try to steal from him. Whenever he would get ahold of someone, you would try to get close and steal a small piece for yourself. Sometimes Binzo would be too busy to realize, but when he did, he would reach out as far as he could and use his long-sharp nails to scratch you away, leaving you to become a crying-hungry mess.

You also had a habit of not responding whenever he spoke to you. However, this was completely his fault. After you finally became comfortable enough to talk to him, he started to tease you, claiming that your voice was annoying and, using a piece of broken glass, threatening to cut out your pretty pink tongue to eat as a snack. From that day on, you didn’t utter a single word to him.

However, as time went by, Binzo started to find your presence to be slightly humorous. Specifically, whenever you tried to feed.

Binzo would always laugh whenever you dug your fangs too deep into someone’s neck and ended up getting completely doused in their blood when you pulled away. He thought it was a waste of a good drink, but worth it to see you freak out as you tried to stop the fast-paced bleeding.

Your hair also grew at an unnaturally fast rate as well. It was disgusting, but fun to pull on whenever he wanted to get your attention. It was also especially fun to watch your victims pull on your hair, stunning you for a moment, and getting a couple slaps and punches in as they tried to get away. But, Binzo wouldn’t allow that, stopping them at the last minute and dragging them back in your direction. However, you would always be too embarrassed and cry, refusing the meal he was kind enough to go after for you.

You were ungrateful. Idiotic. An amateur. Everything he hated bundled up into a small ball that dwelled in the corner of his room.

But on top of all that, the thing he hated the most was how you weren’t here now.

“Where’s Y/N!! Where is she!!” Binzo exclaimed to his physically and mentally exhausted aunt. She just stayed quiet, ignoring the child’s vicious words and actions. If she knew, she would have told him by now, but she didn’t.

Binzo looked around his dark messy room as he tried to think of what might have happened to you. It had been 2 nights since he last saw you.

If you had been moved to another room, he would be able to smell it. But you weren’t. You weren’t anywhere in the house in fact.

Could his father have decided that it was too much for him to support 2 cannibalistic children, and off’d you in the woods while he was sleeping? No way. He was the one who brought you here in the first place, he should have known what he was getting himself into.

Maybe you ran away, not wanting to be held captive and enslaved to work at a lunatic’s haunted house. That would explain why his father was also not around either. Maybe he had gone out in search of his most popular attraction.

No matter the reason, you weren’t here now, and Binzo hated you for that.

As the raven-haired boy finally started to calm down, he laid down in his cage, his eyes fluttered shut, unable to keep their focus on the door of his room anymore.

However, he was suddenly awoken by a loud scream.

It was his aunt. She had left the room, leaving him alone while he was asleep. Her voice was loud, but not angry. It sounded almost cheerful. An emotion he hadn’t heard from her in the longest time.

Binzo jumped to his feet as the door to his room slid open. There stood his father, alone from what he could see, cigar burning away in his mouth as he smiled. Binzo tightly gripped the bars of his cage, a feeling of rage boiled inside him like nothing he had ever felt before.

However, that emotion quickly washed away when he saw a familiar face appear from behind his father.

There you stood. Alive and in one piece.

Just like the first time you two had met, Souichi forced you into the room. Binzo’s eyes looked you up and down as you cautiously walked in. Gripping the hem of the older man's suit jacket, you stared back at the pale boy.

Your hair had been cut, shorter than before. You were also wearing a kimono similar to his aunt. You looked almost like a doll. It was weird how he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

Binzo watched as his father put the chains around your ankles again, your hand running through his greasy hair. You two exchanged that look he couldn’t understand again.

Binzo barely listened as his father warned him not to fuck up your clothes. As Souichi finally left the room, Binzo put his hands on the lock of his cage and, using his nails, undid it.

Crawling out of the cage, he stood onto his feet and he looked at you. Although he was still only in his early teens, he was starting to grow extremely tall, a gene he inherited from his mother no doubt.

Binzo felt his heart start to race as you looked up at him, your eyes sparkled as they reflected the small amount of light that leaked in the room. It was almost like you were giving him the same look you and his father would often exchange.

Without a word, he forcefully shoved you to the ground. “Stop looking at me!” He exclaimed.

You probably thought he was jealous that his father actually let you go out, got you nice clothes, and even treated you like you were an actual human being. But that was far from the truth. He didn't really mean to push you so hard, but his emotions had gotten the better of him.

Binzo yelled out in pain as you kicked him for pushing you so hard. Just before you could kick him again, he moved to straddle you.

Putting his weight onto your stomach, he held your wrists on both sides of your head. You growled as he brought his face close to your neck and took a deep breath. It had been so long since he smelled your scent. However, this time it was different.

“You smell delicious.” He said in a hungry voice, drool dripping from his lips as he showed you his fanged teeth. You squirmed under him, knowing that he didn’t mean that as a compliment. “I thought my dad killed you. But now I see that he just dolled you up so I can do it myself. Kishishishi!” Twisting your head to the side, you dug your fangs into his arm.

“OW! You bitch!” Binzo screamed as he pulled his arm away from you. His long fingernails left a scratch across your face as he slapped you hard.  

Baring your fangs once more, you pushed him off of you and rushed to get away. However, your chains didn't let you get far.

Binzo grabbed your legs just before you could go any further. His nails dug into the thick fabric that made up your kimono, tearing it a bit as he pulled you closer to him. Flipping you onto your back, he put himself on top of you.

You squirmed in a panic as the boy wrapped his arms and legs around you, restraining you from getting away. Not having eaten anything in a while, you soon became unable to continue fighting with the monstrous boy.

Binzo’s heartbeat slowed down as you started to relax, his body unconsciously trying to mimic the pace at which you breathed. You whined as he tightened his grip on you a bit more, making sure that you wouldn’t try to slip away from him again.

Pressing his head into your hair, he breathed in the new scents that covered your body. The smell of the brand new kimono you wore mixed with the fruity shampoo you had used made him doubt that you were really the same creature he had shared a room with 2 nights ago.

“Where did you go…?” He asked, his words slightly muffled by your hair.

Your body tensed as he dug his nails deeper into the fabric of your clothes, trying to force a reply out of you, but ultimately receiving nothing back.

He hated that you wouldn’t talk to him…

[animeyanderelover]

Hii 💖Can you do Minato with prompt 84?

Seems to not fit him at first glance, but he is a dangerous cookie after all. I got some inspiration from a post from @kyoties. It's inspired from this one Sakura x Yandere!Minato comic. Also, Minato is very manipulative and cunning in here. I just felt in the mood for some angsty stuff.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, controlling behavior, manipulation, bribing, blackmailing, blood, killing

Prompt 84: “I’m not the most violent person, but I’m willing to change that if it means having you.”

It's not like you weren't used to seeing blood, you were a shinobi after all and had seen some crazy shit after all. There had even been this one time where you had witnessed a man bombing himself for the sake of not getting caught. People were all deep down a bit crazy, it wasn't anything new to you. Everyone had a darker side somewhere lurking in them. In the end it all depended on how good someone could control it. A good self-control was the essence to many things, if not to all. You could achieve about anything with it because in the end cold-hearted cruelty was always superior to hot-blooded violence. It sharpened the mind, made you think before acting and allowed you to fool others, manipulating them into acting like you wished. It was a simple fact you had seen very often before. No one was really a good person, everyone was able to do brutal things, horrible things.

So why? Why was your heart in so much pain right now? Hadn't you been prepared for a day where someone you thought you were close with would show his real face? Hadn't you always reminded yourself that everyone had a different and cold side to them, including you? It had after all always been basic knowledge for you. Thinking deeper about it, maybe you weren't in so much pain right now because you had not seen it coming. Maybe it was just that seeing even him being like this as well had just extinguished a small flame of hope in you which he had mangaged to lit in you. This stupid thought that maybe there were people in this world who weren't like this. Who weren't two-faced. But you had been tricked by him, the person you had even thought to have fallen in love with. Now you weren't so sure anymore if the man, tainted in blood was really the same you had always felt your heart fluttering around.

"Who...who are you?", you managed to croak out, feeling like you were about to faint here and then. So many fights, so many battles, so much blood. It had of course always affected you, but never ike this. You were achingly aware, too aware, of everything right now. The warm and sticky feeling of blood all over you, the wind causing you to shiver, the shadows the corpses were throwing on the ground and his presence, feeling more terrifying than anything you had ever sensed before. It felt like all warmth had been abandoned from him, someone you had sometimes compared to as sunshine. But know you had a hard time believing that this man was the same at who's back you were currently staring with quievering eyes, having troubles breathing properly. Who was this?

Upon hearing your voice, Minato seemed to come back to his senses, turning slowly around to look you in your eyes. It was the first time since his sudden arrival that you were finally facing him. His clothes were stained with red liquid, his face spattered with it as well. It looked pretty bad even though you doubted any of this blood belonged to him. No, all of it belonged to the men who were now laying lifelessly on the ground, all the blood creating a huge puddle in which center you two were standing. It made you feel nauseous, the intense stench of it making bile raise up your throat, your stomach feeling like a hungry rat was greedily biting it's way outside.

But this wasn't what mae you break out in cold sweat, leading your whole body to shake uncontrollably and heart pounding with ony pure fear in your heart. No, it was this look he had in his eyes. You remembered that his eyes had always reminded you of an ocean. They were deep and yet possessed this certain sparkle in them, something that reminded you that he was alive. But right now there was nothing. They were completely empty, the color in them seeming much more pale and less powerful in comparison to how you remembered them. Even the eyes of the now dead people surrounding you appeared more lively, fear, desperation and horror visible in them. They were all dead, but looked more alive than Minato in that moment.

"What are you talking about? It's me. Minato." You suppressed the urge to shake your head, eyes staring even more horrified at him after hearing his voice. Nothing, not a single emotion in them. It was just as cold and empty as his eyes. By now he had shifted his complete attention to you, eyes being, despite any sign of emotion, intense in it's own way. You felt like the coldness in him was starting to seep in the air around him, you suddenly starting to freeze, chills dancing up and down your body. "But this isn't the important question now." He stepped closer, towering over your sitting form. "What are you doing here? If I remember right, you were supposed to take a break from missions due to your injuries. So why is it that I find you miles away from the village, engaging in a fight that you couldn't win from the very start? Didn't I tell you, order you, to let me take care of this? I thought that you wouldn't be that risking to try to chase down those shinobi all by yourself. I thought you were more mature than this."

Those words hurt, they hit you like arrows, you feeling hot and cold shame, embarrassment, frustration and anger washing over you, nearly making your head spin in the process. In all the times you had spend with him, you couldn't remember a single time he had ever sounded that harsh, that cruel. Sure, you could recall times where he had been more strict on you, but never like this. You knew that he wasn't wrong. In fact he was right. You had let yourself get carried away, had been careless and risked your own life. And yet..."Be quiet. How can you possibly understand how I feel right now? How I felt back then?" Your voice had gone very quiet, you squeezing the fabric right over your heart, glaring at the ground. Your eyes started stinging, everything becoming blurry before you felt hot tears streaming down your face. "How can you understand how it feels to lose comrades you've known for years all because you were too unable to to protect them? All of them...they died because of me."

It hurt, only remembering it made you feel like someone was stabbing a poisenous blade right in your heart. "I-I couldn't safe them. They all ended up sacrificing themselves for me. My whole team...wiped out in an instant. And I was the only one who made it put alive. And the worst is that all of them died for nothing. I couldn't even give them a meaningful and honorable death. Their families...I couldn't even tell them that the death of their children helped the village, much less face them." Minato was listening attentively, his gaze slowly faltering upon seeing you in such a devastated state. "(y/n)...they were my people too. I know how you feel, I'm in pain as well. But that is no reason to chase blinded by hatred after them. What would have it done good if you would have died in here as well? You would have dishonored their wish to let you continue life. I told you I would make sure that they would be punished for their crimes. Didn't you trust me enough or why did you still decide to go solo?"

"Because I wanted to be the one to catch them and make them pay." Your face was by now stained with a mix made out of blood, sweat and tears. "It's not like I didn't trust you with your promise. It's just that I knew that if I wouldn't at least help to catch, I would have never been able to forgive myself and be confident." You slowly looked up, revealing your pained expression. "I know that this was reckless. But what else could I have done? I just had to do this myself. I don't expect you to understand this, you aren't someone who launches without a plan or lets himself get carried away from his feeling. That's why I knew you wouldn't let me join the team. And that's why I sneaked out myself. I wanted to give their death a meaning as the one who took it from them."

By now it looked like a a bit of warmth had returned to his eyes, giving you a somewhat sympathetic yet still strict look. "I do get why you did it. But what did you hope to gain from this? It won't bring back your team by risking your life nor will it help you feel better. The only thing this would have earned you if I wouldn't have found you would have been the same fate. You should have trusted me and your other comrades. You were in no condition to fight. You had no plan, not the physical skills to do it and certainly not the mentality. Charging in just to feel better about yourself. What were you thinking?"

You scoffed angrily, slowly starting to get back on your feet. A sudden stinging pain in your side made you groan, stumbling nearly back on the ground before you managed to gain your balance back. Your hand snatched automatically under your clothes, pressing against the spot where the pain was coming from. When you pulled back, fresh blood was glistening on your hand. Minato instantly stepped closer to you, a look of concern crossing his face and started stretching his hand out, wanting to help you. "Are you fine? Let me take a short look and-" He stopped when you rudely slapped his hand away, making a shocked look flash over his face. "You think I did this to feel better? Are you kidding me? I'll never feel better about this, no matter what I do. I let them get killed and I'm wel aware that nothing I will do in the future will completely restore me. But still..." You clenched your fists, feeling anger boiling up inside of you. "What other motivation and reason would I have needed besides their pride and memories I'm carrying?!?! You will never be able to understand me!! You didn't saw it!! You merely feel a part of what I'm feeling!! It was my mission!! My responsibility!! And I failed!! How could you ever possibly understand me?!?! Besides, I was only planning on capturing them!! I'm not stupid with thinking when I kill them everything will be fine!! You were the one who just now lost total control and slaughtered them all!! What right do you have to lecture me about what I did wrong when you aren't any better?!?! No matter what you say, I don't regret what I did!! And I would do it over and over again and if you try to stop me, I'll make sure that I'll never have to see you again and stopping me from doing the right thing!!"

You had pushed yourself against him, a furious look on your face, glaring with pure anger at him. And for a short moment everything suddenly seemed to quiet down, even the noises in the forest stopping as if everything was watching you two right now. Minato looked in denial, not believing that you had just lashed out on him like this. "You're right. I'm normally not like this." He looked like he himself was stunned with what he had done. "I'm not the most violent person, but I'm willing to change that if it means having you." He didn't look you in the eyes for a while, glancing at what he had done. But only a few moments later his expression darkened, the previous warmth in his eyes suddenly all gone again. "Just who do you think you're talking to?" His voice was slightly raised, clearly irked about your disrespectful behavior just now. "Do you think you can talk to your Hokage like this? You must not let your anger out on me because you're currently a bit too agitated. The fact reminds that you disobeyed me which could have led to your certain death if I wouldn't have stepped in, meaning you brought my life with your impulsive acting indirectly in danger as well. Not only that, but the village suffered casualties because of you. Those men were needed alive, but because of you they're dead now. Are you even aware in what a bad position you're in exactly?"

Anger turned temporarily in pure disbelief, you looking completely flabbbergasted at him. "What do you mean that they're dead because of me? You were the one who killed them." You felt dread washing over you when being met with his firm gaze, getting a really bad feeling. "And who is there to confirm this?" You nearly choken on the air. "W-what do you mean by this?"

"We're far away from the village. Those guys are dead. No one saw us. It would be in the end your word against mine. And I do hope you know whom the village would believe more. There are even people who can confirm to have you seen leaving the village plus the fact that you took a lot of paperbombs and weapons with you. And you have a very solid motive as well, you even told people you would chase them mercilessly down and revenge your teammates. Everyone would believe it was you. I only came to see you having killed them all."

You had no words, this shameless blackmailing of his having just robbed you your ability to speak properly. Your brain needed a long moment to fiddle a few half-decent sentences together. "Y-you're deranged. Are you seriously blackmailing me now? What has gotten into you?" You didn't know if the slight stirring in his eyes was something akin to regret, maybe you were right now just too much in shock to comprehend and judge properly. The sudden knowledge that someone you had comsidered your best friend had just done the unspeakable to you had blown you completely off-guard. You felt betrayed, bitterness starting to seep into your heart and mind, accompanied by a white-blazing wrath. How could he do this to you?! "You...I hate you." Your face twisted into an angry mask. "I'll make sure that I'll have to see you after this never again!"

Some rational-thinking part of you cursed at you to remain calm, to not do what you were about to do. But your mind was too darkened up to listen, ignoring all the screaming pain you felt when you suddenly tensed all your muscles up and the knowledge that you could not beat him, grabbing angrily a kunai. You felt confused when looking at Mina-. No, at that man in front of you. Who was that? You had never seen him before. Was that the reason why you felt no hesitation to attack him? Because you didn't recognize the man you had shared precious memories with?

"Wait, something is wrong." Time seemed to slow down for a bit, a sudden hyperawareness grabbing you and sharpening your senses unbelievably. You felt a million different thoughts were racing through your mind in less than a second. "Why-why isn't he moving?" Minato was clearly looking at you, he had to know that you were about to launch at him. So why didn't he make any attempts to dodge your attack. Did he want to get hurt by you? But why? A sudden rustling from the trees made your eyes shift in an instant to the noises and the source of it. And that's when realization hit you like a lightning. "SHIT! Did they arrive just now?!"

You had no time to react anymore, the only thing you did manage to do was shifting your course a bit. But you still landed a solid blow, ramming the sharply formed iron in his shoulder, causing him to hiss in pain and jump a bit back. You watched only in horror, sitting helplessly on the ground as all the Anbu were surrounding you in only the matter of a few miniseconds. One rushed instantly to Minato who pulled with a slightly pained expression the kunai out of his freshly created wound, the Anbu instantly pulling out a piece of fabric and pressing it against the bleeding. "Lord Hokage! What happened in here?"

No! You tried to move, but the moment you did, you were thrown harshly to the ground, one of the many members twisting your arm painfully behind your back. "Hey! Let her go. It's fine." Though you couldn't see the face of the person, male judging from his body, you could hear the slight confusion in his voice. "But Lord Hokage...they just attacked you and..." He looked a bit around, the place demolished from all the paperbombs you had used before Minato had elegantly and fastly killed them all. You realized with terror that nothing in here hinted that he had killed or interacted in this fight. He had even used one of your kunais which he had picked up and dropped after being finished. The same kunai with which you had just stabbed him. What had you done. "...and they killed them all. We needed those people for information gathering. Their knowledge was important."

"I know it looks a bit difficult. But they didn't intend to do it. You need to try to see it from their perspective. It must have left a traumatic impact on them. It's terrifying to witness something like this. Especially given the fact that it was their first mission as a team leader. And also, look closer. They lost a lot of blood already. I'm sure that their barely conscious by now. It was a bit my mistake as well. I creeped up from behind them. They probably mistook me as another enemy."

In one point he was right. You were at this point barely keeping it together, black spots dancing in front of your eyes. You still noticed how everyone was looking at you, judging whether to trust you or not. "He might be right. I was assigned to watch over them when they were first delievered in the hospital. I remember that they suffered from nightmares, bad ones. And they are indeed very badly hurt. Stop pressing your body on them like this. They're already very pale and don't look good. Instead of being cautious of them, we should focus on getting them back to the village. Hatred can lead you to becoming blind and for them it must have been an especially mind-and heartshattering experience." You might have felt the smallest bit of gratitude for the woman, but it didn't change much in the end. You were still caught attacking the Hokage and everyone was, just like Minato, had predicted, sure that you were the one who had killed the ninja.

"I want you all to keep this a secret. (y/n) shouldn't have to suffer and endure even more than they already did." Some of the Anbu looked shocked at Minato, other ones accepted his decision, even though more reluctant. "So you're plan on doing nothing? Lord Hokage, by all respect, but there has to be at least a bit of consequences for their behavior."

"I know that. I wasn't planning on letting them go just like this." You had by now lost all the will to fight, one of the Anbu having to support you because you didn't possess the strength to stand on your own. You had by now soaked your top completely on the one side, the bleeding having really stopped. But despite knowing that fainting was very likely at any moment, you forced to focus on what he was having in mind for you.

"I was thinking about remiving their title as a jonin from them, maybe even making them retire for a bit. I don't think that after this experience they'll be able to continue as they used to do. It just left too much of an impact and affected them mentally. I hope by stopping them for a while, they'll have time to recover from their experience. I'll make sure they do. You know that I care for them a lot."

Up until now you had never noticed how talented he really was in lying. But now that you were the victim, you could only be stunned as well as scared of his charms and ways of making people trust him. You had never even thought how terrifying he really was before because you had seen him as a friend. "A friend..."

Before you finally passed out, collapsing due to the blood loss and because everything had just been to much for you, you had one last thought, a resenting and pained smile on your face. "Not anymore. I just realized that this was the same Minato I knew all along. I just never saw what he didn't want me to see. And now I'm paying the price for my naivety."

[wickedgamesoyaoya]

↝ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: having them crash your date

↝ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: aomine x f!reader

↝ ᴡᴄ: 1500+ 

↝ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: wanting to kill aomine for being aomine, being an ass during a date, kissing, using someone to make another jealous. 

↝ ᴀ/ɴ: first time writing for aomine... hope it’s alright LMAO this is a college au btw. 

The restaurant selected for your date was rated four out of five stars on the internet. It was classified as fine dining and proclaimed to be the ideal location to celebrate a special occasion or to impress a potential client. What the numerous websites did not state was that it attracted a certain type of crowd – those who did not care for the ridiculous prices attached to their small portions. 

When the hostess guided you and your date to your reserved table, the customers you slipped on past raised an eyebrow at you, easily detecting the one person who did not belong. Instead of cowering under their targeted stares, you fixed a smile onto your mouth, ignoring the crawling sensation spreading throughout your arms.

You would survive this one date – you had to. It was your fault for arguing with that idiot, and for accepting an invitation solely to further piss Daiki off. The thought of that insufferable male prompted a hallow melody to dance up your throat, though you were quick to swallow the sound.

How dare he call you undesirable? Coming from someone who lacked any notable characteristics, that was rich. An idiot. Aomine Daiki was a complete idiot.

But who was the bigger idiot here? You or him? He wasn’t the one who was on a date with someone who was probably cheating on their wife, and he wasn’t the one caught in a traditional game of unrequited love.

“Have you found something you like?” The blonde male did not bother to secure eye contact, instead his icy irises scanned the menu ahead of him. “Shall I call the waitress over?”

“I did, thank you.” There was no point in maintaining a polite smile, particularly when your date would be unaware of its existence, yet it remained plastered on your visage. They say that if you smile during uncomfortable moments, it can trick the brain into thinking you are truly happy. And if that did not work, you could always employ your secret weapon – the flask of vodka in your jacket pocket. Under the influence of alcohol, even someone as bland as your date could become interesting, or at least bearable.

“Perfect.” Bringing the booklet to a close, he gestured the waitress over with a short wave. The fluidity of the motion had you questioning how many times he had brought someone here, was this his special spot?

Or were your perceptions merely a product of your imagination?

The following thirty minutes made you realize it was the latter. There was nothing interesting about the wealthy man sat ahead of you. And you almost felt guilty accepting his invite, since he was quite serious about finding a future wife.

“As I was saying…”

Accidentally tuning out the latest story he was narrating, your attention drifted across the establishment. It was at this point that you caught visual of a pair that did not appear to belong, just like you.

Astonishment morphed into disgust when your eyes locked with his – the damn reason you were here.

“Hiii, y/n-chan!” The pink haired girl sang out the greeting, bouncing towards your table with Daiki trailing behind. Those seated around you grunted in irritation at the disturbance, but your date wore a blank expression. Though, from the twitch of his eyebrows, you assumed he was at least mildly interested in those preparing to approach him. “How funny! We were just passing by when we saw you from the windows!”

The deceitful answer was coated with a sugary tone and accompanied by a wide-eyed expression. The deadly combination seemed to have satisfied the man sat ahead of you. In fact, he seemed far too smitten with Momoi to notice the large male standing behind her. But you on the other hand, could not remove your attention from Aomine – not for a single second. Everything about the athlete had your emotions flaring.

How could he stand there so casually?

No longer entertained by the deadly glaring match you engaged him in, Aomine took in his surroundings with a quick scan of the space. It was as if he was evaluating your decision, and most likely critiquing it mentally. 

The last thing you needed was his judgement.

“Are these friends of yours?” The question implanted a wedge into your concentration, guiding your gaze back to the blonde.

Did you accidentally tune him and Momoi out? From the matching expressions painted on the pair ahead of you, it seemed you did.

“Yeah, kinda.” The qualifier was a lackluster attempt to capture the blue haired male’s attention. Surprisingly, it worked. Aomine had shot you a lazy grin in return.

“Then you are welcome to join us.”

The invitation came far too swiftly for you to successfully curtail it. Further, neither Aomine nor Momoi missed a beat, claiming the empty chairs without hesitation. When the athlete settled onto the chair beside you, he inched it closer to yours, before stretching out his spine. The sloppiness of his movements was in stark contrast with the elegant mannerisms of his best friend.

“Thank you so much!” A bright smile was flashed to display her gratitude, whereas Aomine offered an unenthusiastic “thanks.” The blonde simply nodded to acknowledge their words. But it was quite clear that so long as Momoi was present, he would bypass any other distractions. Including the large male who was practically pressed against your side.  

Typical.

Once the pair officially joined your date, the atmosphere loosened considerably. However, the change was restricted to your table. For a moment you soaked in the change with a titter threatening to spill from your lips. Watching Momoi cast a spell on the one who was once set out to woo you was amusing to say the least.

“That’s your type?” The male beside you adjusted himself after vocalizing the question. And whether he was stretching his neck or tilting his head inquisitively was unknown, but the movement brought him dangerously close to you.

Flickering your gaze to the minimal space between his head and your shoulder, you cursed yourself internally for the fluttering sensation inside of your stomach.

“So, what if it is?” A small “hmph” was tactically added to your response.

“Never pictured you being into an old rich guy. Does he know you hate places like these?” The basketball player remained slouched in his seat for a few more seconds before settling into a comfortable position. 

Was he serious right now? 

“Shut up and keep your voice down.” The demands were whispered in a stern tone, but you doubted it would work. 

Unsurprisingly, he returned your hiss with short-lived laughter.

From the opposite side of the table, your date’s attention briefly returned to you – a natural reaction to the vigorous sound. He was seconds from becoming more aware of the scenario unfolding around him, but Momoi was prompt in eliminating his concentration.

“Oh, tell me what I should get!” A menu was then placed before him, to remove you from his line of sight. The artificial behaviour did not catch you off guard, you knew the two of them were scheming – a fact confirmed by the startled expression she exchanged with Aomine prior to opening the menu.

“I don’t know what you’re up to but stop it.” Exhaling a sigh, you propped an elbow onto the table before resting your cheek against your palm. 

But did you really want them to stop? Not really. This was the most enjoyment you had since you arrived. Not that you would let him know that.

“What we’re up to?” He echoed with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What about you? What are you doing here, y/n? Are you here to prove you’re desirable?”

His words visibly stunned you at first.  

Aomine knew exactly how to push your buttons, and his style of teasing was ridiculously potent. To refrain from acting on your urge to attack him physically, you curled your fingers in and grinded your teeth together.

“Aomine. You ass-”

Your lips were about to complete the curse when he connected his mouth with yours. It did not require much to close the distance due to the limited spacing that existed in the first place. Inside of your chest a parade had commenced, one that matched the metaphorical fireworks that accompanied the kiss. 

You knew it was wrong. Your date was sat right ahead of you, albeit hidden behind the remarkably large menu. Yet, you enjoyed it. 

When you instinctively tried to push away, he placed a hand at the back of your neck, keeping you in place. With each passing second your resolve melted until it no longer remained. A minute felt like an eternity, and when Aomine settled back in his seat, a flustered groan vibrated inside of your throat.

“Oi. Satsuki. Let’s go. I want a burger.” After tending to the crick in his neck, the athlete raised from the chair, purposefully ignoring the bewildered expression being presented up at him.

On cue, Momoi slapped the menu shut and stood up. “Okay! So sorry for disturbing you two. We’ll be on our way now.”

Your narrowed gaze slowly travelled from Aomine to the pink haired girl, who dipped an eyelid into a wink at you.

What the hell.

You could barely comprehend what occurred and watching them leave only increased your bemusement. Across the table, your date questioned if you were alright. Pressing your palms against your face, you shook your head with another groan. 

No, you were not alright. 

You were in love with the Aomine Daiki, the biggest idiot to exist. 

Which meant you... would never be “alright.” 

Taglist: @newfriendjen @yourstarvic @bloody-bella @seijurosempress​ @haikyuusimp91 @chaichai-the-weeb [only tagging those who I know watch KnB lmao] 

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 11

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary:  “When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll be happy together.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,511

Warnings: captured reader, angst, bonding with Grogu, plot plot plot

Author Note: To anyone and everyone sticking with this series, I love you so much! I know the plot is more than a little thick right now, but answers are slowly but surely being revealed. 

Links to Part 1 and Part 10 and Part 12

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

You pace the length of the cell, brow furrowed as you try to organize your racing thoughts. Between the chilly atmosphere and the severed bond wailing for its other half, you imagine you outwardly resemble the jittery and unbalanced mess you feel internally. You refuse to feel humiliated by your appearance, not when the witnesses are Gideon and his minions. They can think what they want about you, believe they have broken your spirit, because that just means they won’t expect it when you free yourself until it’s too late.

However, part two of your plan of escape is proving to be more challenging to conceptualize than you initially thought. The collar is tightly wound around your neck to the point of chafing. Apparently the rule of being able to slip two fingers under a collar is only applicable to animals in Gideon’s eyes because your attempt of slipping your finger between skin and metal is dissuaded by another electric shock zipping through your body.

However, as you lightly trail your fingertips over the cold metal, you’re surprised to feel a noticeable dip in the back. It’s not a design flaw, you think as you try to visualize it in your mind. Your heartbeat quickens as realization strikes: it’s a keyhole.

Any excitement you might feel at your discovery is spoiled by the fact a keyhole is useless without a key. You look at the laser gate, further disappointed as you contemplate the complexity of the tunnel system. There could be dozens of cells down here, potentially thousands of hiding places for Gideon to keep the key to the collar secure. Not to mention, you don’t even know what the key looks like. It could be hanging right outside the cell and you’d have no idea.

Lost in the sea of disparaging thoughts, you don’t notice the return of the baby crawling through the hole in the wall until he latches onto your foot. Startled, you barely manage to refrain from shouting a curse as you stare down at him. He giggles, clearly amused by your wide-eyed expression, and then slaps a silver plastic bag against your shin using the hand that isn’t gripping his favorite black cloth.

“Did you bring me a present?” you ask, taking a seat on the pallet and lifting him up onto your lap. This time when you reach forward, he willingly lets you take the item from him instead of trying to take a chunk out of your hand.

You tear open the plastic, revealing its contents to be five teal-colored cookies.

“Wow, bud,” you murmur, holding one up between pinched fingers. The treat smells distinctively like vanilla. From what you’ve witnessed, you doubt Gideon is the type to offer his prisoners dessert with their meals which means these were probably stolen from somewhere. “Where did you find these?”

The baby only babbles unintelligibly in response, gesturing with his free hand in the direction of somewhere beyond the laser gate. You nod along, feigning understanding, but your eyes can’t help but drift to his collar when he turns his head. The keyhole for his collar is smaller than you expect to see which has you quickly theorizing there is not one universal key for all of the collars. If that theory is true, then it raises the difficulty of escaping yet another level.

With a sigh you cram the cookie into your mouth, finding the tiniest smidge of joy in its crunchiness.

“When we get out of here I’ll buy you a dozen boxes of these,” you tell him once you’ve swallowed, offering him one of the cookies. He coos excitedly and takes a large bite, uncaring of the blue crumbs that rain down upon his coat. “And once Din sees you, I bet he’ll want to spoil you rotten, too. He has a not-so-secret soft spot for kids.”

The baby’s head tilts, reacting to the name-drop by making a confused gurgling sound around his mouthful.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” you scold gently, tapping his nose with your finger and laughing under your breath when it proceeds to scrunch up in an adorable manner. Leaning your head back against the wall, you’re unable to keep the note of wistful longing out of your voice as you explain, “Din is my soulmate. To the rest of the world, he’s known as Death. They’ll have you believe he’s someone to be feared and avoided at all cost. But luckily I’m here to tell you the truth.”

He stares up at you, snack seemingly forgotten in favor of listening intently to every word coming out of your mouth. Distantly you think you should be a little scared by how intense his gaze is, as if he’s attempting to look past your skin to the soul beneath, but you remind yourself all babies are innately curious and don’t know it’s rude to stare.

“He’ll never admit to it himself, but underneath all that beskar armor, he is the most socially inept being in the galaxy. I swear, bud, the first time I met him I thought it was impossible for him to say more than two words or else he’d hurt himself.” Your lips twitch at the memory, the smallest of smiles you can make without it feeling forced. “Still, despite his horrible first impression, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, but—look, I know how crazy this sounds, okay? But I felt like I had to get to know him better. There was this voice in my head insisting we couldn’t just remain strangers. It took about ten thousand questions and three more meetings for me to earn his trust enough for him to take off his helmet and let me see his face.”

You take a deep breath and stroke your finger over the baby’s ears, needing to feel something other than the flaring pulse of pain from the bond. “One look at those beautiful brown eyes and I was done for.”

Saying Din’s eyes are brown feels sinful. It’s like saying the ocean is blue—accurate, but not detailed enough to describe its depth and volatility. There are days when his eyes are the shade of brown reminding you of leather bound journals—ancient and full of profound wisdom, meant to be admired and cherished for an entire lifetime. Other times, they are the kind of brown that matches your favorite chocolate pastry from the bakery down the street from your apartment—decadent and warm with the slightest hint of temptation.

“When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll all be happy together.”

And I’ll never get tired of seeing those brown eyes everyday.

~~

The hours start to bleed into one another. The baby snoozes in your lap, head pillowed on your thigh, but you have no idea if it’s night or day. Gideon had said he’d let you talk to Din ‘tomorrow’, but that doesn’t tell you how many days you’ve been here in total.

Your legs have started to feel numb from sitting in the same position so long, but the last thing you want is to wake him up by moving. The importance of him feeling safe enough to be vulnerable and sleep is not lost on you. His desire for attention and physical contact is so painfully obvious you hate thinking about how often he must have been ignored before your arrival.

As he sleeps, you’re unable to resist your curiosity any longer and carefully maneuver the piece of cloth out of his grip. Despite its aged and dirty appearance, it is still surprisingly soft to touch. Whatever article of clothing this was torn from must have been well-tailored, you think, imagining a hooded cloak or perhaps a long coat. Your nose twitches when you hold the cloth close to your face to better study it, reacting to the variety of odors embedded in the wool fibers. Maker knows how long the kid’s been dragging the fabric around with him without it being washed regularly, so you shouldn’t be surprised it has absorbed a couple dozen scents.

Still, the faint essence of smoke you detect swirls around in your brain even long after you’ve laid the cloth back over him like a makeshift blanket. Memories of your death start to resurface again despite your best mental efforts to push them away, causing your stomach to clench with nausea as you recall the horrific stench of charred remains.

It isn’t the same, you tell yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing your head to clear itself. It can’t be because that day was fifty years ago and he’s only just a baby.

You repeat these thoughts like a mantra until, without meaning to, you fall into a dreamless sleep.

~~

You’re startled awake by hands seizing hold of your arms and pulling you up onto your feet without warning. You yelp at the sudden rush back to consciousness, brain scrambling to make sense of everything. Your eyes sweep the ground, panic washing over you like a bucket of cold water when you fail to see a tiny green body.

“It’s time, pet,” the twi’lek’s voice hits your ears and you turn to see her standing near the cell’s entrance, a lantern in one hand and a shiny blade in the other. “The Moff is expecting you.”

It takes you a minute to process in your frazzled state, but you realize it must be time to talk to Din. You’re shoved forward by whoever has your arms twisted behind your back, but you manage another quick survey of the cell. There is no sign the baby was ever here and you send a quick prayer to the Maker he had snuck back through the hole without anyone seeing him.

You have mixed feelings about not being blindfolded as you’re led through the underground labyrinth. On one hand, you get to observe everything and everyone you come across, making as many mental notes to flip through later when you’re alone. On the other, you think this must be an intimidation tactic. Gideon wants you to see everything so you know with absolute certainty how high the odds are stacked against you.

There are cells identical in appearance to yours on either side of you, carved into the tunnel rock and blocked from entry by laser gates. Except not one of them contains a prisoner. Either you have severely overestimated the size of Gideon’s collection, or he is purposefully keeping you separate from the rest for reasons known only to him.

Another surprising and unsettling observation you make is how many different types of species Gideon has employed as minions—human, rodian, trandoshan, you even spot a devaronian in the mix. Except for the Cupid twi’lek in front of you, everyone you come across is mortal. It does not make much sense to you why a seraph as powerful as Gideon is relying on mortal henchmen to help maintain control of his secret prison. Your gut instinct is insisting you’re missing a vital piece of information and you don’t like being in the dark about it.

The tunnel you’re being marched down eventually opens up into a larger cavernous space with several dozen lanterns hanging along the walls providing ample lighting. There are several crates spread about the area, and some have been pried open to reveal they are packed full of blasters and ammunition. You rack your brain trying to determine the purpose of the weapons. Yes, clearly, they are meant to cause havoc and destruction, but why are they here? Who or what is the target they will be aimed at?

Gideon stands in the middle of the room next to an empty chair. On his other side is a mortal human male, bald-headed with ginger facial scruff, who has two blaster pistols holstered around his chest and yet another one held by a droid arm attached to his backpack. Overkill much?

You’re shoved in the direction of the chair and gruffly told to sit. Huffing, you wordlessly obey and try not to squirm as all eyes lock onto you as if you’re going to perform a trick for their entertainment.

“You have a minute to record your message,” Gideon says, holding out a piece of paper towards you. “These words I have prepared must be included in those precious sixty seconds or you might find me reluctant to allow you to send a second recording.”

Is he serious? This isn’t the arrangement you previously discussed with him.

“Record?” you repeat, reluctantly taking the paper.

“I never said you would have the opportunity of speaking to Death face-to-face.” You want more than anything to tear the condescending smirk off his face with your fingernails. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that the mortal saying? You would know better than me, living amongst them in that quaint little apartment on Umbriel.”

Of course he knows about your home. Of kriffing course he does.

Heartbeat quickening, you avoid eye contact by scanning the few lines of words he’s written, eyebrows slowly inching up your forehead the more you read. “I don’t understand. This isn’t a demand to kill anyone. What does it mean?”

“Now is not the time for you to know,” he answers cryptically.

You shake your head, insisting, “Well maybe it should be. He knows me better than anyone. He’ll be able to tell I’m confused and—“

Gideon’s heavy sigh interrupts you. Then, quicker than you anticipate, he steps to the side of you and unsheathes his sword, its black blade positioned at your throat. It happens in one fluid movement, and the danger of your current predicament doesn’t sink in until the frightening humming notes of the weapon register in your eardrums seconds later. Your expressionless mask wavers, facial muscles tightening as you fail to refrain from flinching.

“All that is required from you, Cupid 1-1-7, is for you to speak from the heart and convince him to follow this one instruction. Do you think you can accomplish that?” he asks the question as if you have an actual choice. Like you can walk away now and there will be no hurt feelings.

But that is ridiculous. Everyone knows Cupids don’t get to have choices. Not when they are only given orders to obey.

You give him the tiniest of nods, careful not to let your skin make contact with the blade. “Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s begin.”

~~

The nav computer on the Razor Crest contains the coordinates of every moon and planet within each region of the galaxy. There is not one inch of space unknown to Din and yet his search for his angel continues to remain unsuccessful. He doesn’t consider the possibility of her being deceased for even half a second. As her soulmate he would have felt her passing the moment it happened. The bond he shares with his angel might be young and fragile still, but he doesn’t doubt her loss would eviscerate him in the same merciless manner he had done to Hess.

His inability to find her can only mean a powerful immortal is involved in her capture. As Death he roams the universe as a neutral entity. The only enemies he encountered—and he uses that term loosely—were foolish mortals thinking they could outlive their destined time by fighting him, only to ultimately meet their fated ends in the process. Prior to Hess’ demise, he had upheld his sworn creed to the universe and never once was tempted to defy the natural order or break a sacred rule.

Although admittedly strange to consider, the thought that maybe his angel’s capture isn’t meant to deliberately hurt him or her is one that keeps crossing his mind. Perhaps they are merely pieces in a game neither of them recognize nor want to willingly participate in.

As Din sits in the pilot’s seat, staring at the screen dispassionately through the visor of his helmet still coated with Hess’ blood, he is well-aware of Bo-Katan standing behind him, attempting to freeze him solid with her iciest glare.

She is the bravest of his reapers, unafraid to piss him off and counteract his opinions with her own. Yet ever since they left Hess’ body hanging in the warehouse and returned to the Crest, she’s not said one word to him, seemingly content to suffer in silence as a background presence while he contemplates whether he should be the one to track down the twi’lek Hess referenced or if he should have his reapers engage in the hunt.

“We’re going to talk about what happened,” Bo-Katan says coolly.

He grinds his teeth. “We will talk if and when I want to.”

“No.” She forcefully pulls at his chair, turning it around to face her. A snarl escapes him, animalistic and furious, but her green eyes don’t even blink, not the least bit intimidated. “You reaped a soul before it’s destined time. The universe isn’t going to easily forgive you for that. There will be consequences.”

“The only thing that matters is getting her back,” he answers. It’s the truth too. The second his angel was taken he knew there was not one rule he wouldn’t break to have her back in his arms—consequences be damned.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Bo-Katan asks, looking him over as if she no longer recognizes him. Her eyes linger just a second too long on his bloodstained gloves. “You’re losing your mind over a soulmate you’ve barely known a year.”

“Have you ever had someone you loved taken from you?” Din counters.

She scowls, eyes narrowing with loathing. “How dare you compare—”

“Answer the question!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the armrest hard enough the metal creaks ominously.

“Yes.” Her chin dips briefly towards her chest as she takes a second to compose herself. “You know I have.”

Din does know. Hours prior to every major catastrophic event in the galaxy’s history he’s felt an invisible leash wrap around him, pulling him in the direction of the tragedy and demanding he be there to personally reap the souls of the victims in the aftermath. He had witnessed the destruction of Bo-Katan’s homeworld when it was ravaged by a series of bombings orchestrated by an unknown enemy. Thousands had been killed, including Bo-Katan’s sister.

He doesn’t let the silence stretch too long, voice unwavering as he says, “And if you had the chance, would you not kill the one responsible for your pain?”

“It wouldn’t bring her back. Not any of them.”

Din sighs, glancing away, but Bo-Katan surprises him not even ten seconds later, apparently unfinished.

“I’d still do it though,” she says, not sounding the least bit guilty for admitting to hypothetical murder. “I’d carve the heart out of whoever set off those bombs and force-feed it to them.”

“We’re more alike than you may think,” Din says. “Think about that before you question my actions again.”

Any potential response from his reaper is interrupted by the beeping of an incoming transmission. He turns his chair at once, noticing the recorded message’s origin source is a random scrambling of letters and numbers. Every instinct is telling him he won’t like what he sees, but his hand reaches forward anyways, as if possessed by an unseen force, and presses the button to view the recording.

His angel appears as a holographic figure and immediately his eyes zero in on the collar around her neck. Anger threatens to course through his veins again, but Din forces his lungs to draw in a deep breath. Now is not the time to unleash his temper. Now is the time to listen and commit every word she says to memory, to study her every feature for any sign she’s been hurt.

“Death,” she begins, and his entire body tenses at the use of his title and not his name. It’s been so long since she’s addressed him as such, he knows it can’t be accidental. “I hope this message reaches you wherever you are. More than anything I wish I could be with you right now. I’m so sorry I broke my pinky promise to you, sweetheart. The way our bond is...I hate to think you’re feeling as much pain as I do.”

Din’s heart shatters when she starts to anxiously rub at her soulmate marking, sniffling quietly. His fingers itch with the overwhelming longing to hold her hand.

“I’m not safe here. What they’ve threatened to do to me...it scares me. I-I need to ask you a favor, a very important one.” A few teardrops escape the corners of her eyes and drip down her cheeks. Din bites the inside of his mouth so harshly he tastes blood. “If you want to protect me, then you must let go.”

The transmission goes dead.

Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee​, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​, @eleinemk​, @captain-jebi​, @aerynwrites​, @promiscuoussatan​, @stilllivindue2spite​, @coaaster​, @lin-djarin​, @oh-no-a-whovian​, @over300books​, @chibi-yuki, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

why does jean warn up to mc so quickly? ikevamp makes it clear that jean is a pretty reserved person and doesn't open up or let people in easily but he seems to let mc in quite quickly and it confuses me quite a bit.

Oh boy, where to begin with this one.

Well, I have a lot of Feelings^TM about this, but I'll try to be concise. Essentially, I think Jeanne doesn't recover in the other routes--or the general storyline--largely because he's just a lot to unpack narratively speaking. And without some pretty direct intervention, he has a hard time healing. MC’s direct intervention was meaningful because it was focused, consistent, and adapted to Jeanne’s specific needs. She also doesn’t make light of his experiences which is key; she fully understands that she can’t fathom what he’s been through. There is a very weighty respect and acknowledgement, a seriousness with which she treats his wounds that’s important.

It’s easy to make this a “why is MC nOt LiKe ThE oThEr GiRlS” but honestly that’s just not the sense I get when I look at all the information available to us. 

That being said, I also just feel like every person's recovery from traumatic events doesn't really look the same? I mean Leonardo’s cptsd isn’t going to operate the same way Jeanne’s wartime/Inquisition cptsd is going to operate. Some people require very individualized healing, others will often require a large scale group effort to lift them up.

Typically people don't ever just get over what happened to them and never worry about it again, either. It's usually a process of coping; the hope is that with time you find healthy ways to deal with grief and move forward. Therapists aren't magicians, they just help people process painful experiences/thoughts. It's honestly up to individuals to find meaningful ways to implement these tactics. 

Tl; dr: My contention is that Jeanne doesn’t open up or choose to stay alive because MC magically heals him, rather his recovery is a convergence of many people’s efforts and hopes that he stays alive. Gilles (he insists that Jeanne must live, asks him to promise), MC (affirms and bolsters that promise), Comte (makes a second life and recovery possible)--and in no small measure Mozart and Napoleon--all make an active effort to buoy him. As people often say, it takes a village to raise a child.

While Jeanne seems to respond most powerfully to MC’s attempts, it feels more like a product of chemistry/compatibility than it does a random cop out. There is no insinuation that only romantic love can heal; after all, MC gets close to him without any romantic intentions at first. They’re just good friends? It’s more that their feelings simply moved in a different direction after a point, which doesn’t necessarily happen all the time. Jeanne is also incredibly moved by Mozart’s love for him as a friend, Comte’s love for him as a father, and even Gilles’ love as a comrade to an extent. If anything, without their input Jeanne’s capacity for romantic love would be questionable at best.

Now, because I can never for the life of me stop analyzing, I have a more large scale outline of my thoughts below. Spoilers for Jeanne’s route:

If we look at Jeanne's life history, he has pretty specific trauma. Most of the harm he endured was a direct result of human rights violations after the war itself. He didn't enjoy fighting and killing people, but he's also very much a man that sees the reality of his position: it's either kill or be killed. His entire goal was to defeat the enemy as efficiently as possible in the hopes of ending conflict, and with his enormous resolve turns the tide. He had no innate interest in inflicting harm, or lack of control when engaging. He isn't pathological about it, and doesn’t dehumanize the other side. He was more "this was an act of necessity, but those are still human beings." So as far as I can tell he has a very strong moral compass and sense of duty, he doesn't show much delusion/confusion in that regard. (Also evident in his conversations with the young orphan boy.) Furthermore, he has been shown to have a sense of humor--cracking jokes with Gilles and boosting morale for his fellow soldiers.

His childhood abandonment is significant (he left his home because he was "not an adequate farmhand and they had no ability to feed all their children") but I don't know if I would consider it a huge trauma point for him. It seems as though he deemed it an act of necessity--not spite. It was simply the way of things, and he couldn't help his wiry constitution. You'd be surprised how common that was once upon a time, tbh... While it's certainly not right or fair, it does appear that in his perception it was the choice he made and he moved on after he became a soldier. Just focusing on what he could do, rather than everything he lacked. For people in his position, they often feel it is useless to linger on what should have been. There’s no time to linger or doubt, life hangs in the balance.

That leaves us with his time under the Inquisition, just before he was slated to be burned alive. I think this is the keystone trauma point for him, because there are a lot of moving parts to his powerlessness here. The first part is that his entire life's mission--ending the war so that people would no longer have to die and/or starve as a result of senseless violence--was just sabotaged. All those years of doing things he never wanted to do (wartime violence) and being forced to leave his family to ensure they didn't all starve, all of it treated like some kind of joke. Like he didn't sacrifice years of his life and sanity to protect a people who were happy to call him a monster and watch him burn alive. The second part is the overt gaslighting and rewriting of Jeanne's personal history (and overall French public perception) for the sake of the King's political agenda. To call him a treasonous danger to the country when he was once lauded a hero. The third portion is the actual physical helplessness of being arrested, starved, and continuously maimed for no reason beyond pure malice. While it's never right to do that to any human being, this was done to a man who prided himself on his stalwart moral code. To abuse and torture him for something egregious that he would never do (at the risk of death) is just another slap in the face to everything he is and believes in.

I just feel like the context clarifies why that period of time would be the tipping point. His entire moral code and life’s work is being called into question and swept aside, as well as his agency? He believes very powerfully in a sense of right vs wrong, what's fair and what isn't fair. Somebody else deciding that for him--and deciding in a way that is openly unfair/incorrect--further makes him lose himself and his sense of reality. A person in that situation begins to doubt if they are good or bad. His belief in god all the more pressing; if he was a good person, why would fate bring him so much suffering? Honorable soldier or not, his blade has drawn so much blood...

People often reference his stilted social skills (and I am of the belief that he is on the autistic spectrum) as a reason why he is so "people-adverse" but tbh? I don't agree. His memories before the onset of this trauma reveal that he was actually a very warm person, and that people were more than willing to fight under his banner. He had friends, and he had comrades--his country loved him. He was the picture of well-meaning civic duty. Just because he doesn’t integrate smoothly into larger social groups or adapt well to socially shifting circumstances, doesn’t mean he just hates people lmao. When people give him the space to exist within his comfort zone and don’t take advantage of him, he thrives. Compounded by that, we also have his actions in the present to further prove what is true and what isn't.

While he is stern with the orphan boy (I'm sorry I can't remember his name, damn it) there is no malice or cruelty in what he has to say. He doesn't punish the kid or do anything out of line. It may not be fair in terms of the adult level of discretion he asks of him, but the kid also didn't have a lot of options realistically speaking lmao. Same thing with MC, she and the orphan boy are nearly identical in how Jeanne treats them. He's a little rough, but the route reveals that his intentions are just a reflection of what he's been through. He truly believes that if a person isn't strong, they won't survive--because his entire life was a series of trying to be strong/reliable because nobody else would. There was nobody to protect him, and nobody to care for him went things went south. It was him and his sword against the world, and even his exceptional skill as a fighter did not protect him from the Inquisition's arbitrary torture. He has lived in a world where good acts can become absolutely meaningless, where following rules and helping people still gets you slaughtered. That's going to take a considerable toll on his mental health: where do you find the will to go on when the next second of your life could mean the devastation of everything that matters to you?

Spoilers: you don't. Or if you do, every minute of the day is a fight to stay alive. That is the point at which we meet Jeanne. Caught in the hellish whirlpool of wanting more, wanting better--but being terrified of the cost. The cost of hoping, only for his entire world to go up in flames again. It's not a small thing, in my view.

If you have any doubts as to whether or not that is the case, I direct you to literally every singular instance in which Jeanne's emotional sensibility goes visibly dark/south. When do these instances happen? When it rains, for one. And when Shakespeare deliberately starts pressing on his sensitivities: about the soldiers he was forced to kill, about the nation that spurned him, how he's truly "wicked" at heart and doesn't deserve to be happy--seconds before flames erupt for the festival. Does that really sound coincidental? I mean lmao. The rain is a painful reminder, but MC transforms that memory into something a little lighter with her bet. He has nothing to lose in her game, all she does is ask for time with him or offers him something if she loses. There's a playfulness there, a restoration of agency and ease that's invaluable to his recovery.

As for Shakespeare's deliberate retraumatization...I can't even begin to explain how damaging that event was. Shakespeare is undermining Jeanne's agency in that he--not unlike the corrupt monarch of Jeanne's era--is twisting Jeanne's beliefs to work against him. He knows full well that Jeanne doesn't feel like he deserves somebody so bright and understanding (we need to remember it's not really a luxury he's had much in life, especially after the war ended). He knows Jeanne has a tendency to impose that strict moral code on himself even more than he does on others. To reaffirm his every worst fear and lurking terror only throws Jeanne into a vicious downspiral. Jeanne doesn't reject MC out of disgust or hate. He rejects her because he literally cannot handle the concept of trying to be happy again, or of burdening her with his constant struggle to move on while he’s in the middle of a bad episode. He knows he won’t be able to stop reliving the past, that every second of his life and breath will be colored by his gruesome memories. He's trying as hard as he can to keep the intrusive thoughts quiet, to move on. But I'm not going to lie to any of you, that is incredibly difficult to do alone.

The next obvious question is, well why can't the other men help him? This isn't to say that they can't--we see how much solace Jeanne finds in Napoleon and Mozart. Even Isaac is gentle with the veteran. But there are limits to how much they can do. Napoleon is struggling with his own wartime trauma, and it's not identical to Jeanne's. Plus there’s a distinct difference in their sensibilities? Napoleon is the type to habitually seek comfort in helping others when he can't help himself, he's not as in tune with answering his own personal feelings and regulating them. (I mean just look at his new ES: he knows what he wants, but it takes a nudge from Isaac for him to go through with it.) He’s very communally reliant in ways Jeanne isn’t; Jeanne is a very private person, and typically prefers one on one from what I can tell.

Mozart is the definition of repression, and if you look at their interactions it's usually Jeanne that's smoothing over Mozart's rough edges. Mozart says as much himself: that he feels like a rotten friend because he knew Jeanne was struggling with a lot of intense trauma, but he didn't know how to unravel it without hurting him in the process. Mozart calls it personal cowardice, but honestly I just feel like they both had too much going on to be able to help each other effectively. (And Jeanne expresses this sentiment too? This idea that he's not angry with Mozart? He knows they're both carrying a lot, he's just touched Mozart cares about him in return.)

Okay, briefly unrelated, but like. Am I the only one that wheezes uncontrollably when Mozart is like "?????? Idk what it is about MC...I don't want her to be scared of me..." in his own main story in the baths. And Jeanne. IS TRYING SO HARD. NOT TO SPILL THE BEANS ABOUT HIM O B V I O U S L Y BEING IN LOVE. THE HILARITY I CAN'T DO THIS. Jeanne was like "yeah....yeah that's rough buddy.......[screams internally, give your boy time Jeanne he's fragile]"

Honestly? That's the thing about Jeanne too--he has incredible self-awareness and hyperarousal-related (I mean the PTSD kind, get your head out of the gutter) awareness to the people around him. He's very, very conscious of the fact that he is surrounded by geniuses when he can't even write his own name. Just because he has the fortitude not to lash out with his insecurities, doesn't mean he never feels stupid or inferior. And it doesn't help when there are people in the mansion who call him--a fucking war veteran from 500 YEARS AGO--nAiVe. He's not naive lmao. He just doesn't know how the world works so many years later, and it's a ridiculously steep learning curve? Leonardo and Comte are nearly 500 years old, but they lived throughout every hour of that time in a linear fashion. It is a big deal to be moved from 1430 to 1890 in the span of a second asynchronously, and then be expected to function without a hitch??? Given the circumstances he adapts well.

That atmosphere--this constant impatience with what he doesn’t understand, his inability to be caught up to speed quickly--is going to hinder his recovery lmao. He feels like a burden most of the time, and agency and freedom are crucial.

Another thing that occurs to me about the mansion's arrangement is that there is a power dynamic, just as any space with people in it has some level of hierarchy (unless you live with miraculously chill people). Jeanne is acutely aware that Comte is the most powerful being in that space, and he is not only hatefully angry at him--but likely afraid too. We have to remember that the biggest betrayal he witnessed in his life was at the hands of a monarch; it was the aristocracy that turned on him and erased the truth. Comte is openly a child that resulted from both that era and that type of lineage, I don't really blame Jeanne for being wary. He intimately knows how willing rich people are to throw normal folks under the bus to suit their ambitions/whims. Comte, while not deliberately threatening, also seems to be painfully aware of this impression he gives off. His "chad persona" as I've mentioned allows him to navigate his life in secret by necessity, but it’s actively damaging to his son. He can't reveal the truth because of Vlad's betrayal, and he's openly unsettled by what it could mean to be honest. Will they wonder about Vlad and find themselves ensnared under his mind control as Charles and Shakespeare are? Will Comte himself be subjected to the mortifying ordeal of being known only to lose them?? That's a risk he isn't willing to take--and that leaves him in a double bind.

What is it that they say, the truth will set you free? This is where MC and Comte come into enormous play when it comes to Jeanne's recovery. One thing to keep in mind is that most of the people in the mansion have their own traumas they're trying to carry, and I feel like a lot of them are unsure how to approach Jeanne. Or if they do, he's very guarded. It takes a lot of consistent effort to get through to him. What does MC do when Jeanne unleashes his harsh worldview on her? She's understandably frightened, but Jeanne isn't malicious (so she chases him around). In fact, he openly avoids and runs away from her--well aware that what he's done is wrong. If anything, he did it on purpose, bringing us right back to Shakespeare's verbal undoing; why does Jeanne attack her in the first place?

LMAO. He attacks her because she essentially says "oh thanks for helping me!" "I am not nice. Watch yourself." "But you seem like a nice guy to me?" "REEEEEE" Does the pattern become a little clearer? When people think kindly of him, his instinct is to shatter that illusion with an impulsive reprehensible act. When people think poorly of him or lash out, what does he do? When that orphan boy starts yelling and screaming, Jeanne is nothing but calm. He explains the situation, and offers the kid a choice, perfectly happy to be the bearer of bad news. This operates on many levels I’m sure, but I have a feeling it has something to do with him being hailed a saint and a war hero only to be tortured and branded a monstrosity (and he probably thinks being a vampire is doubly monstrous). He’s more comfortable being hated because he feels it’s what he deserves in a lot of ways.

Jeanne has a lot of internalized self-hatred because of what he's done, and because of how much harm was inflicted on him outside of his control (he's Catholic and he was tortured, come on this writes itself). If I'm honest, I think that's actually the greater part of why he hates Comte lmao. Comte refuses the very concept of being cruel no matter how much Jeanne lashes out. Sure he lectures him and scolds him, but he never actively limits what's important to him or controls or harms him. Comte fully realizes the tragedy of how Jeanne's life was used by a nation in dire straits, and knows he needs time and acceptance to heal. No matter how dismal or unhappy, Comte doesn't stop--he fully believes Jeanne should have time in his life where he can really live for himself for once. But therein lies the issue, Jeanne doesn't know how to live for himself.

Which brings me to how MC and Comte "heal" Jeanne. I feel like they give him the space he needs to recover, and that's what results in his gentled temperament and happiness. Remember that so much of his main story is MC endlessly chasing after Jeanne. No amounts of his hissing or running or threatening stops her. Even if his refusals are empty of real dislike, they're enough to deter most people. Not MC. She's able to see through to the depths of who he is, and doesn't just use him for her own ends? She actively seeks to teach him (to read and write) to help him settle better in this era, she actively tries to ease his distaste for rain with a well-meaning bet, and she never gives up on him. (Actions mean so much more to him than words in general too, tbh...). Love is more easily defined by work and effort than it is by attraction.

When he has his episode at the festival, sure she's rattled; but that's because she truly believed that he didn't want to be around her anymore. When she notices he really doesn’t want to be followed, she stops like any normal person would. It’s only when she reads his notebook and sees the truth for herself (that he’s given up despite having the same feelings for her) that her determination is rekindled. She doesn't approach him fearfully, doesn't treat him like he's made of glass either. She just wants him as he is--accepts and loves him as he is. Scarred, bloody, exhausted, abrasive, terrified. She doesn't define him by how easy he is to love. That is a huge issue with traumatized people lmao. Because of their maturity, people always just assume they don't need help, or they rely on them to an extent that isn't sustainable. The second they reveal need or that they struggle, people walk away or victim blame them because it’s easier than taking them seriously.

While MC's attempts may be a little more obvious (cherishing his lily field, wearing the hair pin he gave her, careful about his gruesome injury, really listens when he talks about the horrors of his life and accepts that he experienced a level of agony/terror she can never understand, tries to express her feelings no matter his evasion) I think it's also important to consider Comte's large scale effort. I don't say this to undermine MC, I say it because Jeanne's life was defined by a complete lack of security. He left his parents to make their lives easier, he lived in a war that meant life or death any second, and his country's leader branded him a traitor which lead to his endless torture and public execution. Jeanne does not know a life in which safety is the norm. Point blank. He does not understanding going outside and not expecting the worst anymore.

Comte not only understands that level of despair, but treats it with dignity and respect. He fully accepts being hated if it means Jeanne can use that hatred to live on and find a way to heal. And most importantly, when Jeanne begins to move forward with MC and Mozart's help, Comte never once holds it against Jeanne when the truth is revealed. He's not angry, this isn't about reprisal or reparations or revenge. It's just love.

Jeanne doesn't really have a concept of this? His entire life was mostly transactional, defined by strength and efficiency. Nobody gives a damn about your feelings. You either hurl yourself at the problem or die. Nobody is going to help you or carry you or save you. While he may have had a little more support while he was in the military from his fellow soldiers, that support system was ripped away from him during the Inquisition.

One very common sentiment regarding elongated imprisonment and torture is that survival occurs in pairs. It is an undeniable fact that people need others to survive. It is the nature of who we are. Individualism has never proven to be successful, or if it is, its dividends are astronomically minimal when compared to people working together.

What does it mean to be the most reliable, steady person in the room? Usually it just means you don't know how to ask for help when you are no longer capable of maintaining that stance. Napoleon is guilty of it. Leonardo, Comte, and Jeanne all are too. It's part of why MC and Comte's capacity to see what he needs and provide as much as they can is such a big deal. That sort of consistent support (without a constant necessity to beg for help) allows Jeanne to be able to re-integrate into his new reality and find joy. Even if his nightmares and memories never go away, they are now being actively overrun by positive experiences. That's the thing about recovery, really--it tends to be more about drowning out the negative as much as possible and coming to terms with it, than it is about forgetting or never feeling it again. It’s about softening the sharp edges of pain like sea glass.

So is MC magical and randomly got Jeanne to open up? Nah, I don't think so. I think it was a series of persistence and real acceptance of who he is that made him warm up. People really seem to underestimate how deeply affecting understanding is, but that's how damage is undone. Jeanne can't really linger on the idea of his own monstrousness, his unworthiness, a lifetime of misery, when the person in front of him actively listens and cares about him. Makes him laugh and smile and lose himself in warmth for the first time.

If I'm honest, I feel like people also just...underestimate the level of traumatic resurgence that's perpetuated and inflicted by society’s standards in general lmao. This rhetorical structure in which good and bad exist in moral extremes, this idea that people should be able to recover and never experience relapses or periods of sensitivity. The refusal to radically listen to people and their problems, and make active attempts--not matter how small--to mend/ease those hurt feelings. Granted there will always be people in the world who do not want to improve, but I feel like most people want to. It's hopelessness, silence, and stigmatization that remain the true enemies of traumatized/mentally ill people everywhere. And among that population are always war veterans...

[lilkermit14]

Jay is from the show Red Widow and unfortunately he's not really known 😅 At first I wanted to ask for Jack but I had no idea of ​​the details for the story... Maybe he had to leave reader because of his job, but he loves her too much and decides to come back and find out that she is pregnant (a baby girl) I know, it's not original but i can't imagine anything else for this charming cowboy 🥺

Whole (Jack Daniels x Fem!reader)

Notes: Idk why I struggled so hard to write this fic but here she is in all her glory........yay. Not as smutty as per usual to prove I’m not a total whore but here ya go

Summary: after your life is threatened unbeknownst to you, whiskey takes it upon himself to protect you the only way he thinks he can––by leaving you. but what his cowboy brain doesn’t for see, is that he’s doing both of you more damage than good especially after a happy little accident. 

warnings: brief description of smut and aftercare (like the La Croix of smut but still no minors), ANGSTTTTTTT, rOUGH, unplanned pregnancy, a slap, and a happy ending

Jack should have known the first time he wasn’t meant to have this kind of happiness—the kind where one could always have someone to return home to at the end of the day. No, he couldn’t have it with his late wife and he couldn’t have it with you either.

The human trafficker had somehow gotten access to personal statesmen information, because he had found out about you. Had your name. Had shown him pictures of you. Had shown that men were waiting at your doorstep if Jack didn’t back down now.

Thankfully, they were able to stop the man before it came to any of that—but it broke something in Jack. He couldn’t have another woman he loves die like his wife. He didn’t know if he could handle it. You didn’t even know about Jack’s real job, all you knew was that he was the CEO of a distillery and you never asked questions about that. Maybe it was easier keeping it like that, as Jack realized the only way to keep you safe was to leave you.

He had picked a night, picked a place to head out to after it was all over, and planned out the note. He had made love to you one last time before leaving—slowly savoring the way your skin felt pressed against him and the way it felt to have your walls drag against him when he thrusted, and finally stilled deep inside you. He made sure to take care of you before he left, clean with all sore muscles rubbed out and well hydrated—comfortable as you could be. You fell asleep so easily it somehow made Jack more guilty for what he thought was the right thing. He stayed longer than he should have after he wrote the note and got dressed, bag packed by the door, just staring at you, attempting to memorize the sound of your soft noises as you slept and the way your naked body looked covered by the sheets and pale moonlight. It was the most beautiful scene he had ever seen and wanted it to be the clearest memory he had of you. Tears sprung in his eyes, thinking that this is the only thing he will ever have of love—memories. He kissed your forehead one last time before walking out of your life forever.

*****************************

Jack hasn’t felt alive since, the toll of leaving you behind eating at him more than he ever thought it could. He’s changed in a way and everyone knows it—they see the way he moves or speaks now and know something has changed. He just goes through the motions of living with no actual life in his eyes to prove he is alive. He throws himself into his work working through cases and bad guys more efficiently than ever, but it doesn’t distract him from losing you—not when he lies awake at night crying and missing you.

Everyone around him changes too—Tequila doesn’t tease him anymore and walks around him like they’re threading through a room full of broken glass. Ginger does more medical evaluations—ones that are less to do with physical health and more to do with mental health. Most of all—champ acts different, “son—“

Jack pauses from exiting the debriefing room after giving Champ a status report and picking up another case, “I’m wondering if you should take a few days off from wo—“

“No,” Jack says curt and without a single space for bargaining. Champ is stiff when Jack looks at him, “I know you're wallowing over that girl.”

“I did what I had to do and I’m going to continue doing it.” Jack reminds him, staying steadfast in his decision. Champ shakes his head, “and it’s tearing you apart—statesmen get threats like that all the time Whiskey and they don’t go deserting their relatives or loved ones—“

“Well they're not me,” Jack states his stare is cold as he looks down at Champagne, “I can’t lose another person like that again.”

“You’ve lost her by leaving her,” his words cut through him and he knows it’s the truth, but it’s not something stubborn ol Jack is willing to withstand. Jack turns to leave again, “I’ll be off on the case.”

*****************************

You can’t help but pick up one of the sandwiches from the various food carts before they go out. It’s too tempting after standing for hours on your feet with a six month old pregnancy belly on your front—one you’re rubbing as you enjoy the taste of the mozzarella, pesto, and tomato together. The father of your child disappeared before you could even tell him—fitting considering you never grew up with a father in your house. So it has just been you and your baby girl, and well your best friend and business partner that was walking towards you now, joking “are the sandwiches up to your standards?”

“I needed something to eat after four hours of standing and being pregnant Travis,” you contest, taking another big bite. He shrugs with some sort of understanding, looking over the trays of food with you and approving them before they go off. Travis randomly starts, “I don’t think we should try to have this client again.”

You turn, finishing your sandwich with an eyebrow raise, “why? Did someone from the company say something to you—“

“Not that—although I was worried when the CEO invited his childhood priest—” he notes sending off the last tray, “I get bad vibes from the company itself.”

You think about it for a moment agreeing that something was fishy about the way a family-owned soap company was able to afford such a lavish event—something was a little off. You nod, “maybe not—I don’t want to get too close to a company that's a front. I doubt they would want us back because they’ve fired every event planner they’ve had before and the CEO’s wife already complained that the flower garnishes weren’t the correct shade of maroon.”

“We just have to finish the job then and we’ll be scott free” Travis mutters checking his watch, “just a couple hours left—what could go wrong?”

As though you were in a badly made comedy, right as Travis says that you hear clatter and gunshots come from the main event area, “......I spoke too soon didn’t I?”

*********************

Vincent Marsulio had tried to make a run for it once he realized his plans to run a million dollar drug business had gone to shit—I mean a soap company as a front? Really? Jack had dodged gunfire, tequila and the new agent rum covering him—allowing him to use his lasso to drag Vincent into Statesmen custody.

The scene was under control now—with agents and Ginger’s crime scene investigators gathering follow up information and evidence. Jack was just there to make sure the scene stayed secure and that no witnesses ran off that were revealed to be involved. Scanning the crowds of those being interviewed is when he saw you.

He should have known you were here—he should have seen your touches in the flower displays, the food selections, the drapery, and the table cloths. You were a party planner, he should have made note of that. You’re the same as the images in his mind—the memories that flash through his mind whenever he gets a flicker of your perfume or hears a laugh that sounds like yours. The only thing that's changed about you is your stomach—there's a sizable baby bump there, and he mumbles to himself “no…”

It had been seven months—seven months since he left you. It had to be his. He left you pregnant. As though you heard the gears turning in his head you turn and make eye contact with him—freezing in your place. He has to talk to you now, but you make efforts to move away, running towards a stairwell to get away from him as he shouts your name.

************

Despite being seven months pregnant you make a good chase, ducking down the stairwell and moving as fast as your swollen ankles will carry you while he shouts for you behind you. You can’t see him right now, he left, he doesn’t deserve this. Your condition must somewhat get the best of you as you end up stumbling on a landing—slowing down enough for him to catch up. You knew it was futile after all he ran faster than you even when you weren’t pregnant.

He grabs your wrist before you can go any farther, pulling you towards his body—only for you to wack a big slap to the side of his face, “how dare you—you asshole.”

“You're pregnant?” He asks quick as hell, and you frown still jabbing hits at him, “Why else am I so fucking big dickhead.”

He pulls you closer in an effort to restrain you from hitting him and from running away at any point, “is it mine?”

You had been avoiding looking at his face the entire portion of the ordeal—not wanting to see the face of the man that abandoned you. But you end up looking anyway and feel the tears spring up in your eyes. Despite the fact he left you you still feel love for him in your heart. You can’t lie to him, “it is.”

“Sugar, I’m—“ he breathes out, struck in the moment by every error he’s made in the past few months knowing he should have stayed, “I’m so sorry, please let me explain why I did what I did.”

You don’t respond just letting him speak at his own will as he settles you two down to sit on the steps of the stair. Jack tells you about his job, his wife, and the scare he had that just accumulated to him feeling like he had to leave to keep you safe. You had known about his late wife but none of the details about the affair and understood just why he was so afraid—but he still acted like an idiot. Head in hands, “why did you keep everything hidden from me Jack, I mean you lied to me about your job––no wonder I was able to find you after I found out, I was stuck looking for Jack Daniels brewery CEO instead of Jack Daniels statesmen.”

You got him there, “I should have––everyone told me I should have told you.” Silence emanates between the two of you, “I know sorry doesn’t make up for all I did––I don’t know if I can ever make up for what I did, but give me a chance because I want to be there for you and the kid–I love you sweet pea.”

Tears spring from your eyes, “I love you too Jack, we’ll figure it out I promise.”

Jack pulls you into his arms whispering what sounds like a thousand thank you’s for you and the girl in your belly, “it’s a girl you know.”

“A girl…” Jack trails off with a smile gleaming on his face and some unspoken joy in his eyes, that shifts into something of deep regret, “I was almost like him I don’t ever wanna be like him”

“You won’t.” you state firm and jack pulls away to cup your face and wipe away the errant tears still streaming down your face, “can I kiss you darling?”

“Please,” and with that the lips you have missed meld on to yours. After months, both alone and apart, both you and Jack feel a sense of security that everything will be alright––that your little family is finally whole.

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

I’m sorry that its bad....

taglist:

@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal

[stilemawillow]

Thank you for replying :') I'm not sure if you have rules for requests? But if this is okay with you, can I request some Levi x reader when one of them does something embarrassing but cute? Crack! Thank you wuuuuvs 🥺

yes, i do take requests but i do them slowly so sorry for that, i typed down a short drabble (1.6k words, kind of got out of hand lol), hope you still like it. also i was brainstorming the embarrassing but cute thing for like ten minutes, i completely blanked lol

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

It was late, the Survey Corps had had a celebratory gathering in honour of their last remotely successful mission - if nothing else in regards to the few casualties. The cadets were awarded some time off and a bigger meal than usual and the superiors had waited for them to depart so they could spoil themselves with a bit of their alcohol reserve.

The Commander hadn’t set a curfew for them but many left after a glass or two, too tired to stay and knowing they’d still have work the next day. The others - meaning (Y/N), Hanji and Nanaba - were having fun, being loud and, as all three would say - living life to their best. The only left was Levi Ackerman, who stayed in the beginning and spend just a little time with the females before deciding to spare his eardrums some of the raucous torture.

He’d gone on a walk around the HQ to let the pleasant warmth of the alcohol in the crevice of his ribcage fade. He’d always had a high tolerance, thus why drinking was a complete waste of time to him - he’d drain the whole reserve in order to feel anything out of the ordinary or, as Hanji and (Y/N) often described - a disconnection between his brain and body so strong he acted on nothing but his instincts.

The clock was pointing at one past midnight and he was sure there was anybody awake but him. He decided, since he doubted sleep would come to him tonight, to pass by the mess hall to make himself a cup of tea and clean up after the loud drunkards in the meantime.

Except the mess hall still had one inhabitant, in the face of Squad Leader (Y/N) (L/N), or, to Levi, the human embodiment of weird. She’d been his comrade for about five years now and were considered close; she’d made it a point to breach his walls like a firing cannon and he’d struggled to fight her off for a while but he didn’t hate her completely - never had and never thought he would - and so he let her in eventually. Their relationship was simple and platonic, maintain the opposite as Hanji might.

Levi and (Y/N) regarded it as exchanging favours, with silence on his side and loud persistence on hers to make up for it. There was understanding too. He’d often fancied the idea of murdering Hanji in cold blood for pointing out a bit too much his habitual proclivity to let (Y/N) touch him and sometimes, touch her back. She was somebody who didn’t mind rumours and didn’t find use in wasting her energy debunking them, so there had been an established routine between them - she could touch him when nobody was looking. The routine was set in stone around the time she found out he didn’t scream at her too much when she did it in front of others too.

Tonight, (Y/N)’s drinking had gotten a bit out of hand, because she was leaning against one of the tables, cursing at an empty bottle and swaying just a bit. Levi approached her and had just cleared his throat when her shoulders jumped and she almost tripped when turning to look at him.

“Can you even get to your room in this condition?” His question was reasonable but what he didn’t know was that she didn’t have the mental capacity to process it. Or him.

“’m in perrrrfect condition. I can go to the moon too.” Her eyes were narrowed and the gaze in them - foggy. Levi gave a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, then, pointedly as he could, reached out a hand to grab and stabilise her. “Ew, don’t touch me!” She slapped his fingers before they could even grab her, then he was left to blink at her disgusted expression.

“Come, we have to get you to bed.” He was talking boredly, like a grown person explaining 1+1 to a child. Her brows furrowed and she moved away from him but the look in her eyes didn’t clear up.

“Bed? You want me in bed? Well, I say no because I don’t want bed and you. I want somebody else. So fuck off and leave me alone.” She’d royally cussed him out and he’d almost gotten tired of her bullshit when she reached for the empty bottle of the table and began sadly scrutinising the few drops inside. After gulping them down, she decided it would be best to sit down and Levi, in turn, concluded he wouldn’t get his peace of mind if he didn’t force her into her room.

“I’m not leaving you alone because you’ll get hurt. Now come along.” He grabbed her arm and forced her off her ass, to which she frantically tried to shake his hold in vain. Once they were face to face, he felt she might just spit at him with how angry she looked and all.

“I tol’ you not to touch me!” She was hitting him across the chest and he was rolling his eyes at her antics - though he had no idea why she was acting like this now. He hadn’t seen her this drunk anyway. Hanji and Nanaba always took care of her when she was. And they always shared weird looks the morning after.

“You’re usually the one touching me.” His comment made her expression contort in confusion, like the idea of physical touch existing between them was unfathomable to her brain.

“Who? Me? Excuse you, I don’t---” She hiccuped and he was pulling her along - and he, very briefly thought that cute. “I touch only Levi. Because I like him.” His brows furrowed - this was a sudden confession, but so had been the first one. He was well aware (Y/N) held romantic feelings for him and she was well aware he returned them, except, he hadn’t reacted well to the idea of a relationship and they’d kept it down to being close friends instead.

“I like you too.” It was blurted out and composed, just a bit exasperated. She wasn’t telling him anything new but he was curious as to what had even made her do it tonight. And he thought, ever so optimistically, she might just not remember him saying it back the next morning - as he’d never worded it this straightforwardly.

“Why are you sayin’ ‘ too’? I’m not confessing to you and I don’t like you, I like Levi Ackerman, as in Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, as in the fucking love of my life.” She was tugging him back, or at least trying to since it wasn’t working and he kept dragging her down the hallway to the stairs. Her words were what made him halt. He was holding her and she’d told him he was the love of her life - now that was new - and she was talking like... he was a stranger.

“So who am I again?” His inquiry made her brows furrow, she snorted and hiccuped once more - he forced himself not to be distracted by that and the annoyingly cute way in which her nose was scrunched up in disgruntlement.

“From where the hell should I know? You’re a shady guy who keeps touching me and trying to get me in bed. Sorry, bud, not workin’. The only guy I’ll be beddin’ isn’t here right now.” She tugged on his arm once more, then he suggested that they went to him instead and she was quite pleased to hear that. “Or I could go m’self.” Her suggestion was followed by a sneeze, then she was rubbing her arm after he’d let go of it with a condescending look on his face. “You might not be aware but Levi’s tol’ me he likes me too and if he sees you tryin’ to abduct me he might just get angry and kick your face off.”

“I’d like to see that happen.” He was almost smirking at the index finger she was pointing in his direction, almost about to jab straight into his chest. She was frowning, ever so mighty whilst declaring that he - the man standing before her - would come along and beat himself up because she was so fucking wasted she couldn’t recognise him. Talk about disconnection between brain and body.

“If you don’t keep your han’s off me, it might. I’ll just call for him. He’ll beat you to a pulp.” Her arms were crossed in front of her chest and she was pouting now, mad but not that much and he was watching her recklessly trip on her way up the stairs. He gave her twenty minutes and made bets on whether she’d reach his room at all or not and lost when she was seen nowhere along the hallway passed out or whining.

She was snoring on his bed already and he took his time discarding her jacket and boots, then his own prior to entering his office and getting to work with one of the reports he had to write. It took him three hours to finally yawn, he joined (Y/N) on the bed and just barely rolled his eyes when she turned over in her sleep and began mumbling his name.

The morning after he woke up first and decided to enlighten her on the topic of what she’d done last night and why she’d woken up in his bed during breakfast. She went so red in the face it looked painful and Hanji, overhearing their conversation began laughing so hard she choked. Needless to say, (Y/N) gave up alcohol for a while and Levi made it a point to remind her why every time he caught her glancing longingly at the cellar. Not that he minded a confession from her once in a while, or those cute hiccups, or the simultaneous annoyance and amusement he felt at her inability to recognise him.

[tsunonotarou]

Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...

notes — Bro I fucking THIRST for this man he can rip me open

— Also I think I’m gonna start this series called “Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...” because childhood friends to lovers shit is my kind of shit

— We’re debuting this series with Leona 🥳

BEING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS WITH...

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— AS A CHILD

He cherishes you a lot even though he might not show it

You’re the first ever person who acknowledges him, first ever person who approached him first and talked to the second son

He thought you were strange at first, because why would you talk to a mere second born when the first is right here with you? So he distances himself and avoided you at first, thinking you have ulterior motives

You got the signs and didn’t pester him after that—which he is glad for—but he find himself secretly looking at you or purposely look for you in the castle whenever you come visit (let’s say you’re a royalty too and your parents’ are good friends)

It was when he saw you sulking and pouting by yourself, he felt bad and maybe, you just wanted to be friends

The servants always prepared your favorite sweets when you come visit but you didn’t want any after realizing that he’s ignoring you

So he took some, went to look for you and threw them at you

“H-Huh?—“ you got startled and quickly looked up, seeing his neutral expression on and looking down on you

“So, your parents bought you that whatever thing you want, and then what?”

The way he remembers your one-sided conversation with him before honestly made you tear up, you didn’t think he was listening

From then on, you were also excited to visit the king’s castle because you get to see him, and you made sure to bring various of things over for him and you to play

There was one time he accidentally overheard some servants of yours “advising” you to stop hanging around with Leona Kingscholar, saying how he isn’t worth your time and shouldn’t be influenced by him

Though he was sure of your loyalty and friendship with him, he still has his doubts, maybe, you secretly dislike him too

He waited for your response, your silence only made him more anxious as time pass by

“...Hey.” He bit the inside of his cheek, awaiting for your answer

“I’m gonna ask my parents to fire you all.”

His eyes were wide as ever, and so were the servants’

“B-But please, Princess/Prince Y/N-“

“I will not tolerate anyone who badmouths my friend, moreover, who do you guys think you are? Telling me who I should be friends with now?”

As much as Leona tries to stop it, his eyes watered, lips quivering at your words

He never told you how he eavesdropped your conversation with those servants, because eventually it’ll lead to how he reacted, and he’s never going to tell you he almost cried

He taught you how to roar once, got super red when he himself haven’t even mastered it yet

Glares at your form rolling on the floor laughing

— AS TEENAGERS

He is two years older than you, so he got enrolled into Night Raven College first, during the times he was at the dorm you were bored to death

One of the main reasons (probably the only reason) why he’d go back home during breaks is because of you, he could care less about the grand welcome back party—which he was sure the servants were forced to put up—and the fake smiles from relatives, but he had to see you

Is always prepared for the uncalled tackle hug from you but somehow you always manage to knock him off balance, causing the two of you to fall down onto the sandy ground

You rambled and rambled, he listened but solely focused on how your features changed, you definitely grew up, got more attractive, too

Oh fuck

He mentally cursed when he finally realizes how his heart is beating in an unusual pace, feeling his cheeks warm up and how he felt like melting right there and then

Buried his feelings deep down because of his insecurities and acted as normal as he could with you after

You have never seen him panicked so much, got so angry and frustrated before, it happened once, when the topic of arranging a marriage for you and his older brother, Farena, was mentioned

He strongly opposes the idea but reminding him that he is only a second son, hence have no say in this matter was enough to shut him down

You tried to go after Leona who stormed to his room but decided you have more important matters at hand, matters that you need to clarify first

Politely declining the marriage and telling how Farena is a good person, but you have eyes for someone else

Everyone in the room (which consisted of both your parents and Farena) knew who you were talking about, and they were shocked, to say the least

You can clearly see the discomfort in yours and his’ parents faces, but you also can clearly see Farena’s secret wink towards you, telling you he approves

You and Farena never had any romantic feelings for each other anyway, and he was always teasing about you and Leona when you two were little

Knocking on Leona’s room softly then creaking it open, you peek your head inside to see him lying on the bed on his side with his back facing you

“Leona.”

“Leona?”

“Leooona.”

“Leeeeeeonaaaaaa.”

“LEONA WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

“FUCK-“

He winces and jolted up after you slapped his arm

Snaps and growls at you, rubbing the spot where you attacked earlier

He was all grumpy and upset until you tell him you rejected the marriage

Stares at you for a good ten seconds before sighing, slowly resting his forehead on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you

You two have had naps together, held hands when you were little but have never been this physically close after you two grew up, you two are the best of friends but there are boundaries as friends, so this was new to you, naturally, your cheeks bursted in all shades of red

“I’m glad...” you can hear him mumble, placing a hand on his soft hair and patting it before give it a stroke, calming him down

— AS STUDENTS IN NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE

You teases him so fucking much about being a dorm leader, like- how??? He’s just so lazy and unmotivated to do anything that you’re impressed

Surprisingly takes very good care of you both as a friend and a senior, it was surprising for the Savanaclaw dorm members to see Leona actually giving fucks about someone, a freshman no less, so they got interested in you very quickly

Which resulted in Leona scaring them away because they’re too close for his liking

He always suggests you to take naps and laze around with him though, so it’s no good since you have to get good grades

You’re the one who’s always dragging him to classes (if you’re lucky to get him to move)

You two never bothered to tell anyone that you’re childhood friends, it didn’t seem to have the need to

So everyone thought you two were dating because of how close you are 💀

Definitely got jealous at how you made new friends

He doesn’t mind if you have new friends, it’s natural, it’s only concerning if you don’t have any

But if you’re spending more time with them than with him? Best know that he’d trap you in his room and never let you go out

This won’t stop until you figure out why he’s like this and promise him he’ll stay as number one in your friendship list

You really shouldn’t be but you’re still laughing at how he’s repeating school years to this day

But you’re also kind of glad that he’s still here with you, it’d be boring if he weren’t

Plus, Leona wouldn’t leave you here alone anyway, there’s too many people he can’t trust and he just generally don’t wanna leave you alone

The confession was surprisingly normal and quick, no stutters or nervous twiddles of fingers from him

He kinda just, got tired of you being so physically close and attached to everyone else that he want to call you his and his only

He’s the type that’d suddenly pin you down on his bed while you’re talking about what you and your other friends did that day

Enjoys the deep blush and lip quiver on you as he finally confesses his feelings for you, leaning down onto your ear and whisper huskily about-

His arms quickly wrapped around his stomach and coughs as your strong kick jerked him back, he ended up kneeling on his bed, hunched over as he groans

He thought he invaded your privacy and made you uncomfortable so he quickly look up to check up on you, afraid of the terrified and disgusted look on your face, but what greeted him was a hot, hot face as you refuse to look him in the eye

He stared, and stared, a small blush slowly coming up to his own cheeks before a pillow was thrown at his face

Seeing you so flustered reminded him of the past few days when he debated with himself whether he should go for it or not, he might seem smug for now, but before this cocky smirk appeared he was a nervous wreck

So the two of you kinda just stayed like that in his room, freezing on your spot with dead silence

“A-At least give me an answer...damn it.” A miracle that he stuttered

He watches as you fiddled with your finger, looking down with mumbles he couldn’t make words out from

“I...I like you too.”

This is so lame, you two are like middle school kids confessing your love for each other and yet, those simple words made his heart flip like crazy

Now that he’s confirmed your answer, prepare for a wild but sweet kiss from him

— AS LOVERS

It was a little bumpy at first, mostly from you though, because you’re just so used to being “just friends” with him that you don’t know how to act as his lover

He didn’t change much, maybe a little bit sweeter and considerate than before but he’s just the old Leona you know, which you’re glad for, you didn’t want him to change

He’s more protective now since you’re finally his, and he made sure to let everyone know that

Doesn’t really have a say on PDA, he’s fine with or without it, but he would definitely shove his tongue into your mouth right on the spot if someone even dare to look at you in the wrong way

Really likes wrapping an arm around your waist and put his whole weight on you because he’s lazy and tired of walking

Will actually fall on you when you’re in the botanical garden so that you couldn’t get up and is forced to take a nap with him

Play with his hair!! He loves it to death, though he might grumble and say he doesn’t, we all know he’s lying

You have to reassure him that he’ll always be your number one, he’s already suffered enough, if you end up leaving him he doesn’t know how to cope with it

Cuddles, cuddles and cuddles 24/7, he will not let you go

He sometimes just stares at you as you talk or do your own thing and think about how lucky he is to have you, it might not seem possible but literal hearts appeared in his eyes

If you ever catch him staring at you and tease him for it he’ll growl and pounce on you, how dare you make fun of your king like that? Prepare for a punishment my friend ;)