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meidiary · 1 year

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( 📁 ) THINGS THEY DO TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU

synopsis: they can't apologize like normal human beings, so they do their quirky acts to make you forgive them

characters: sanji (shocker), zoro & luffy!

warnings: swearing, (unintentional) angst for luffy..

a/n: my new hobby is making cute character banners oops 🫢 banner inspired by @sixosix <3! happy ending for luffy here !!

☆ whenever you and SANJI have had a fight or disagreement of any sort, he folds first. he is always the first one to give the 'cold-shoulder' act up.

☆ usually, he wouldn't ever stop talking about how much he loves you and how absolutely drop-dead gorgeous you are, but the moment he should talk about all that, he doesn't.

☆ he knows he fucked up.. but he can't bring himself to charm you up like usual.. so- he decides to bake his way out of this problem!

☆ your favorite cake, fruits, drinks, chocolate, and anything you ever mentioned to enjoy will be made and presented to you by your truly apologetic sanji <3

☆ he'd be standing in the kitchen for hours on end. not taking a break because he feels like it's 'his responsibility' to make you forgive him the hard way.

☆ eventually, after being presented more than a month's worth of desserts.. you got worried about the state your charming blonde lover was in.

"not that i forgot our fight.. but you should take a break, sanji.. you've been overworking yourself since this morning!" you tell him, trying your hardest not to sound worried. he gives you an exhausted smile, dropping the cutlery he had in his one hand and the spatula he had in the other one. "you talked to me," he spoke, barely louder than a whisper, before he let out a sigh of relief.

you felt your heart ache, seeing him in his current condition; sweat dripping from his forehead, hands cramped up from all the work he had done, and his apron splattered with a mixture of flower and melted chocolate.

your eyes met his almost immediately, which resulted in him instinctively noticing your sorrowful eyes. "what's wrong, darling? you alright?" he dusts his hands off with the kitchen towel before making his way to you swiftly. "my love why are you giving me your sad puppy eyes right now?" he chuckles as he cups your face in his cold hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"because you overworked yourself because of me.. your hands are all cramped up because i was too stubborn to forgive you right away! i don't deserve you sanji.." he gasps, almost offended. "now that is the bullest crap i've ever heard. darling, i've gone way longer with way more pressure on me to complete dishes for a full-house back at baratie." he chuckles yet again, this time more relaxed. "what i did today was a mere exercise to make sure i was still able to perform under some pressure," a big smile growing on his face.

"sweetheart, if anything i don't deserve you.. i'm sorry for upsetting you earlier.. i was deep in the wrong, yet i'm only apologizing now. forgive me, my love." sanji gives kisses your forehead while grabbing your hands, interlocking them with his. "then let's say we're even now.." you two make up and after forcing sanji to let you help clean up the kitchen, you do just that.

☆ sanji tells you he won't 'bake his way out of a fight' anymore, but knowing him, you didn't believe that statement one bit. you told him to "just make sure you don't overwork yourself anymore.. wouldn't want your pretty hands to hurt.." ~ which ended with him teasing you the whole afternoon.. "you think i have pretty hands~? how very endearing, my love."

☆ now anytime you and ZORO fight, with him being in the wrong, his pride always gets in the way of him owning up to his shit and apologizing. that's all you need from him, an apology. you don't expect him to bake you desserts or write you a poem declaring his live for you, no you just want an apology that isn't forced out of zoro by sanji or nami, or even usopp!

☆ you ignore him because he messed up big time and won't even acknowledge it? ha, child's play, he ignores you. you don't even know how this petty fight escalated so far that both of you haven't talked for a good couple days.

☆ usopp is basically begging you two to make up. considering he had been forced given the role to communicate things between the two of you. zoro needed to clean his sword but didn't know which cleaning agent to use, because you always gave him the right cleaning agent? ⟶ usopp is sent to you asking you which cleaning agent is best to clean zoro's swords with. receiving the dirtiest glance from you, you tell him to tell zoro "he should pay attention more to what others say, instead of staring at his reflection off of his sword 24/7!" ⟶ usopp goes to zoro and delivers the message. zoro scoffs and chuckles lightly before angrily giving usopp yet another message to deliver to you. ⟶ after a while usopp started hiding from the both of you, not wanting to get sent to other anymore.

☆ nami is on your side, of course, sending dirty glances to zoro any chance she gets. she doesn't give him the silent treatment, but instead aggressively tries to let him acknowledge his faults so he could own up to his shit and just apologize!

"y'know zoro, i'm not even in this relationship, yet your ego still somehow found a way to suffocate me! fucking realize you've been acting like a child and just own up to the fact that you messed up, damn it." nami blurts out, all in one breath, before she walks off annoyed.

zoro let's out yet another scuff before sanji makes his way to the moss head. "don't you even start-" zoro sends him an angry glance which has sanji raising his hands in defense, chuckling slightly. "i just can't stand seeing my beloved y/n in distress like this. i don't know the details, i don't want to know the details. all i know is that if you don't want to lose her, i'd act fast if i were you.." he just as quickly turned away and resumed his kitchen activities.

out of all the things the crew told him, hoping to convince the stubborn moss head to apologize to you, this stuck with him for the rest of the day.

after having a rather silent diner with the crew, the same as the past few days, you finished first, leaving the table immediately. "thank you, sanji, the soup was delicious, as expected," you tried to smile at him which resulted in your lips becoming a wobbly line.

"anytime, darling, i'm glad you enjoyed.." sanji noticed your sorrowful expression, as did the rest of the crew. you sent him a forced smile again before leaving the kitchen, heading for your and nami's room.

zoro sighed before standing up from his spot, leaving the kitchen to follow you. reaching your room's door, he notices you locked it. "hey! open the door," zoro leans against the handle, his forehead against the door. "come on now, just open the door for me baby.." his voice softens, realizing how fucking stupid he's been acting, neglecting you in so many ways. "listen.. i'm sorry for being such an ass- you didn't deserve my shitty attitude, i shouldn't have acted so stubborn, i'm sorry. i- i just can't lose you okay? please open the door and talk to me, yell at me, scream your lungs out, just please let me see you baby.. " with that he balled his hand that was leaning on the door into a fist, remorse dripping out of his mouth as he finally realizes how wrong he has been acting, how bad he's been treating you, how much more you deserved.

what surprised him was that the moment you opened the door, you weren't carrying an annoyed expression. no, your eyes were teary, your upper lip was trembling, cheeks a red shade, and your eyebrows furrowed. "h-hey, don't cry now.." zoro wrapped his arms around you, whispering endearments into your ear whilst caressing your back.

you two ended up cuddling on you small framed bed, that barely kept the two of you on it. not a word communicated between the two of you. just you laying on his chest, playing with his fingers while his chin rests on top of your head, still caressing your back.

"i'll do better for you.." zoro breaks the silent, planting a kiss on your head. "i can't lose you, i won't lose you.." you look up at his last statement, putting your hand on his cheek. "you won't lose me.. you'll never lose me."

☆ yeah, fights with this man sure are extreme.. but you two make it work

☆ every once in a while, on a full moon, you and LUFFY experience a disagreement lead to a big fight. of course your relationship isn't always all rainbows and butterflies. but considering luffy's nature of not taking most things serious, lots of fights were prevented. you thought luffy was flirting with a waitress when you left? he laughed so hard, getting cramps in his stomach, because he thought it was the most stupid thing ever that you believed he would flirt with someone other than you. he made you feel ridiculous, thinking of such a thing! ⟶ fight prevented!

☆but sometimes, this very nature of his was what lead to some of the most dreadful moments of your life.

☆ anytime such an event would take place, luffy would be the furthest away from it, the furthest away from you.. it's not that he's angry at you, per se. he just needs his time alone to review all his actions leading up to the fight that may have caused for it to get this big. most of the time he'll be dozing off, too tired to look back on his actions. he doesn't even know himself why he always ends up avoiding you for a couple hours after a fight. all he knows is that he, somehow, always ends up understanding what went wrong between the two of you.

☆ but this routine action of his doesn't always receive a positive reaction from you..

there he went, yet again, neglecting his responsibility in this fight. it was petty, you knew it was, still you wanted him to own up to it! it wasn't fair that he'd leave you shaking, crying, screaming at the top of your lungs, out of nowhere. you were talking, well actually arguing, about how luffy had been avoiding you lately, how he'd turn around once he'd see you, sit at the other side of the table, leave the room the second he saw you enter it, but what hurt the most was that he'd shake off your touches..

you finally confronted him about this, not wanting to bottle up your emotions any longer. luffy reacted as usual, disregarding the issue jokingly, he assured, "it's not a big deal~ you're just seeing things." and then you snapped, everything you bottled up 'till this moment, unleashed. you were a sobbing mess. he had never seen you in this state, shit even you have never seen yourself like this.

you asked him what happened, what you did wrongfully. why was he ignoring you? why did he act like he was allergic to your touches, your voice, your conversations, to you? why all of a sudden? what changed between you? you wanted, no, needed him to answer; you hoped he would realize how stupid he was acting, how neglecting he had been. you needed him to take you in his arms and assure you he still loved you, that he still cared, that he always will..

as if all your sobs were disregarded. instead of talking to you, he stood up wordlessly and walked out of your room, gently closing the door behind him. which resulted in your cries escalating as you tried muffling your sounds with a pillow.

where did he go? why did he leave all of a sudden? does he not care about you? all of these thoughts were racing in your mind, overwhelming you to the point you were gasping for air. at this point, nami came sprinting to your shared room, worried about your condition. "what did that boy do?!" she questions with a mix of distress and anger.

all the while, luffy was sat on the figurehead of the going merry, the sheep. he was enjoying the cold breeze as he kept breathing in and out, trying to understand what had just happened. he soon realized he walked out on you the moment you needed him most. and oh how it should've hurt him, how his heart should be aching right now. instead, he feels nothing except the subtle chilly breeze flowing against his skin, through his hair, moving his flip-flops. he knows he should care, he knows he should run back to you, embrace you in his arms, and tell you he loves you. but he doesn't because as much as he wants you to feel loved and cared for, he can't be the one to make you feel that way. it's not fair to you, you deserve someone that means it when he tells you he loves you and always will be there for you.

he can't put on this facade anymore. he stopped caring a while back, but he believed it to be a decent thing to have you believe he was still the guy that would comfort you when you had a nightmare, the guy that would give you his last piece of meat to show you he cares, the guy that would cuddle you to sleep whenever it was too cold..

he thought it'd be easier for you. oh, how it turned out to be quite the opposite. because he faked your relationship this long, and it had come to an end like this; you didn't only lose your lover tonight, you lost your friend.

MEI'S NOTE: uhm.. yeah idk what happened at luffy's part- but I hope you enjoyed ☺️��

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physicallyaveragementallyinsane · 2 months

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quirkless au katsuki bakugo, who’s fresh out of college and meets you for the first time, hanging out with his idiot friends who didn’t introduce the two of you sooner.

(This turned out way longer than expected. Oops)

August is already right around the corner. The streets are beginning to fill up as it seems everyone’s preparing for the school season. The sun beating down on everything, illuminating the streets he’s walking down.

“Mina just texted, said everyone’s there. Wanna stop here and get something to drink before we head to her place?” Katsuki nodded and followed kirishima who was already opening the door to some local coffee shop katsuki never really remembered the name of.

Him and kirishima have spent, what seems like, the whole summer together. Not that katsuki had a choice in it. Both agreeing to rent an apartment after graduating. Kiri protesting it was the cheaper route for them both, and that he needed the company. Katsuki didn’t mind it at the time, but the more his roommate and friends dragged him around the city, the more he wished he would’ve just moved back home with his old hag.

an hour ago:

“C’mon bro, you can’t keep trying to hide in the apartment all summer.”

“I already said I’m not in the fucking mood to babysit you guys. Go without me.” katsuki retorts as he throws himself on the couch. He tried to ignore the phone calls from kaminari, sero, and mina, but it was hard to ignore kirishima when he can just show up whenever he pleases.

“It’ll be fun man! And you won’t have to babysit us. It’s just a cookout at Mina’s, nothing bad, I swear!” kirishima slams the door shut behind him pointing at katsuki who was trying his hardest to avoid the conversation, “Seriously I’m not leaving until you agree to go. I already let you get out of the last time!”

“Whatever.”

end of flashback.

After he finished being bombarded by everyone (mostly Mina who was pissed he ignored her 7 missed phone calls and 20 unanswered text messages) katsuki had settled himself in the kitchen of Mina’s lake house.

Often throughout high school, the group would find themselves spending weekends/holidays out at this place. Mina’s parents used to live in the house during the summer seasons to get away from the city, but in the groups first year of college, it was given to Mina to do whatever she pleased with.

Unlike the hustle and bustle the city, katsuki didn’t mind the quiet atmosphere out here and always enjoyed when the group would get together and hang out. Even if it did drive him absolutely insane sometimes.

The sun was already setting by the time he and kirishima arrived. Everyone inside helping mina get the food ready.

Except for you.

Katsuki hadn’t seen you before. No one said anything about someone else being here. Were you with Sero? Maybe Kaminari, but last katsuki checked him and jirou were still together?

“Y/n. She’s a friend from one of my classes last year. I tried to tell you she would be here but you decided to ignore my phone calls.” Katsuki shifted his gaze from you to Mina who was staring at him with attitude.

“why’s she sittin out there by herself? She weird or something?”

“Nah. She just probably doesn’t want to listen to everyone. She’s kind of like you in way. Gets annoyed easily. Especially by these two morons.” Mina repsponded as she smacked Denki and Sero on the hands as they were trying to sneak pieces of food she was cutting up for dinner.

Katsuki hummed in response as he looked back in your direction. He wondered if he’s ever crossed paths with you before. He must’ve at somepoint right? Not that it really mattered.

As Mina finished prepping the food, katsuki left the kitchen and found himself in the living room lost to a conversation kiri, sero and denki were having. During this time he must’ve not noticed you move in the living room until sero chirped out, “hey she’s finally not pissed at us kaminari!”

The comment making you giggle softly as you made your way to sit next to the two. “You guys make my ears want to bleed. I just needed to not hear you two talk for a bit.” Your eyes moved from them and glanced in katsuki’s direction.

His heart skipped a beat when you smiled and opened your mouth to introduce yourself to him. what the fuck-

“You’re bakugo right? Mina’s talked about you a bit. It’s nice to meet you finally.” You were beautiful. Katsuki found himself lost for words, which wasn’t particularly normal for him. All he could get out was a,

“Uh- Yeah.” Just as he was about to try and say something else, Mina shouted that the food was ready. You, denki, and sero, made your ways to the kitchen, working through the food. Katsuki stayed in his seat on the couch watching you talk and laugh at the boys and mina.

You must’ve met them all before.

How come they never said anything about you sooner?

Why does he care this much, he just met you.

“Mina introduced us to her about a month ago. Y’know, the last time you decided to not hang out with us” kirishima stared at katsuki with a half assed smile on his face.

“Why is everyone being such a prick about that. I didn’t feel like coming out here. Besides no one told me Mina was gonna bring her.” Kirishima laughed at katsuki as he stood up from the couch, looking down at the blonde,

“I don’t know man, seems to me you’re just pissed you didn’t meet her sooner.” Katsuki rolled his eyes, kicking kirishima in the shin. His eyes shifted back to you and met your gaze which was already staring at him.

Little did katsuki know, you just finished fighting with Mina about how she didn’t tell you her hot friend from college was going to be here tonight.

God, you could just kill her, and so could katsuki.

I did not proofread this so I apologize in advance if it is horrible. I just needed to get it out of my head. 🙏

#bakugo katuski #quirkless au #bakugo x reader #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #denki kaminari #sero hanta #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #college au #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #mha bakugou

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g1rld1ary · 7 months

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you never disappointed me - part four

part one part two part three five

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; you agree to go to the Apollo party with luke, and the night is in no way what you expect (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 4070

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos, alcohol, smoking/weed, swearing, kissing

➻ this took yonks oops - hope u enjoy!! (it's a bit longer than all the others though so don't say I don't love u xx)

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage @caramelandvenus @chasebeth

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The night of the party, you were having serious doubts. You were just glad you hadn’t told Silena that you were considering going at all as she was already practically feral over not being allowed to go. It was times like this that you wondered how things would be if the two of you were closer — helping each other break the rules and have a social life rather than keeping each other on your father’s short leash, ratting each other out at each opportunity.

“Can’t you just be normal?” Silena whined, brushing out her hair and gazing longingly at the outfit she’d picked out for the event, sitting sad and unworn.

“Define normal,” You replied, not sparing her a glance over your novel. This was a well-rehearsed dance by now, and you both knew the steps by heart.

“The Apollo party is normal — leaving your bed for one Friday night is normal!” She cried, pulling far too roughly at her hair in frustration.

“That party is just an excuse for all the idiots here to drink smuggled alcohol and grind up against each other in futile hopes of distracting themselves from the pathetic emptiness of their—”

“Meaningless, consumer-driven lives.” Half the cabin joined Silena in her chorus and you stopped short. You didn’t know whether to be proud of your brand or offended that you’d become so predictable. Silena approached you, speaking quieter so that she was talking just to you and not the show that you usually put on for the rest of the cabin.

“C’mon, please? Just for one night, do this one thing for me? Please.” You hesitated. Silena looked unexpectedly sincere and you realised that the party really meant a lot to her. And, despite your best efforts, you thought of Luke. You thought of his pretty eyes and his dumb smile and his insistence on getting you to this party, and your resolve started to crack. One party couldn’t be that bad, right? It’s not like you were leaving camp, worst case it was always an easy trip back to your cabin. You inhaled deeply, sending your mom a silent prayer.

“I guess I can make an appearance.” The whole cabin erupted in cheers and disbelief. You hadn’t been to a Camp Half-Blood party since your very first one when you were fourteen years old, and not one of your siblings knew why. Silena especially was ecstatic, jumping about and pulling you into a tight hug. You didn’t know how to respond, the gesture of affection foreign between the two of you, but reluctantly wrapped your arms around her.

“Alright,” You ended the moment, “Let’s just go before I back out.” You stopped for a quick second in front of your own vanity, ensuring nothing was seriously wrong with your outfit before bidding the younger campers goodbye and opening the door.

And there, standing nervously in what might’ve been his nicest shirt, was Luke.

“What are you doing here?” You rushed out before you could properly process what was happening. You’d forgotten all about his promise to pick you up, and now the whole cabin would be eavesdropping.

“Nine-thirty, right? Ah,” He glanced at an imaginary watch, “I’m early.” You might’ve laughed a little if you weren’t so mortified at your siblings spying on you.

“Whatever. Let’s just go.” You pulled him along with you, unaware of his eyes glued to the place where your skin touched his. He tried to make conversation with you, willing both of you to return to the dynamic you had after the concert a few days prior, but your embarrassment had shut down any good humour you might’ve possessed. Already dreading the party again, you could feel yourself curling into yourself, but were powerless to stop it.

You were immediately reminded as to why you hated these parties, people you didn’t like only heightened by the substances floating around. It was held in one of the abandoned bunkers littered through the woods, only adding to the claustrophobic feeling with its dark walls and low ceilings. Plus, you were sure the few winding tunnels leading to other rooms would be hell to navigate when drunk.

You knew it was rude, but you lost Luke quickly. You were already uncomfortable enough here and had resigned to sticking out the night for Silena only, you really didn’t want Luke clinging to you all night and trying to ‘get some’ — or whatever his goal for your supposed date was. Your solitude didn’t last long though, as you rounded a corner to smack into Ethan. You scowled, trying to push past him, but he seemed determined to chat.

“Looking hot, Beauregard. You should get out of those camp shirts more often.” Your frown only deepened, hand itching to slap the shit out of him.

“Hey, wait — did your hairline just recede?” You almost laughed at the way his hand flew to his hair; Ethan White was undoubtedly more vain than any of the Aphrodite kids. You ducked around him, desperate to be anywhere else.

“Where are you going?” He called after you, shoving a younger camper out of the way.

“Away.”

“Your sister here?” You froze up, turning slowly towards the disgusting boy.

“Stay away from my sister,” You threatened, your meanest look painted across your face. Ethan only smirked, and it made you hate him more.

“Oh I’ll stay away from your sister, but I can’t guarantee she’ll stay away from me.” Your hand was raising to slap him down when one of his friends pulled him away to go spectate a fight. You supposed you were somewhat glad, Silena would definitely hate you if you hit him at a party, and the Apollo kids would definitely all be too hammered to treat any busted knuckles.

You’d hidden away with Clarisse for half an hour, a much needed respite from the torture that was all around you. You passed a blunt between you, giggling and gossiping, Luke’s name coming up more than once. You weren’t sure what to think of him, but you did know your social battery was absolutely dying, and you really weren’t in the mood to be there anymore. Your chat with Clarisse only ended when Chris approached her, asking for a dance. She looked to you for confirmation that it was ok and you waved her off, very much on board for whatever was blossoming between them. You wouldn’t say you liked Chris — you barely liked anyone — but of the campers around your age, he was on the better end of a terrible spectrum.

As you watched her go, a much more unfortunate sight caught your attention. Silena hanging off Ethan’s arm, one intention clearly in mind. You and Beckendorf appeared as parallels on opposite sides of the room, both wearing dismayed expressions, hearts sinking.

“Look who found me,” Ethan turned to you, cocky grin lighting a fire in your chest. He turned to go, pulling Silena with him, but you found your voice just in time.

“Silena, wait!” Your sister turned quickly, disgust evident.

“Can you not address me here?” She snapped and you were taken aback for a second.

“No, wait. There’s something I need to tell you,” You tried, but she was wholly unaffected.

“Look, I am busy enjoying my adolescence, so scamper off and do the same.”

“Bye bye,” Ethan added, and you really wondered how he was beat up so rarely.

You felt your heart sink, genuine worry for your little sister overtaking the annoyance that Ethan so often caused. You thought she would have at least heard you out when you were actually worried for her, but Silena never failed to disappoint you. Ok, maybe that was a bit mean. That didn’t stop you from wallowing in your own feelings and grabbing a shot from some guy who was handing them out.

“Right on, sister!” Travis Stoll exclaimed, cowering only slightly when you shot him a glare, downing the liquor as quickly as you could stomach.

“Hey, what’s this?” Luke came out of nowhere, putting one of the shot glasses you’d picked up back in Travis’ hands. “I’ve been looking all over the place for you.” You rolled your eyes, alcohol only fuelling your irritation.

“I’m getting trashed, man,” You mocked, “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at a party?”

“I dunno. I say do what you wanna do,” Luke said, and it took everything in you to keep your resolve. Maybe getting crossfaded wasn’t such a smart idea.

“You’re the only one. Later,” You grumbled, pushing away from him while you still had your self-restraint. You just wanted this whole night to be over.

In the same moments, Beckendorf had just seen Silena without Ethan for the first time in a while, and hurried to talk to her.

“Hi, Silena,” He raised his voice to get her attention over the music.

“Oh, hi Beckendorf,” She seemed to be a million miles away, hardly listening to him, “Uh, you know Drew?”

“Um, yeah, I think we had Greek together once?”

“Great.” Drew looked supremely unimpressed. Beckendorf persisted.

“So, Silena, you really look amazing.” The compliment fell a bit flat when Drew raised an eyebrow and Silena looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. Ethan, having heard Beckendorf’s sad attempts, joined the conversation.

“We all know I look amazing,” He said, and Beckendorf didn’t know why both the girls giggled like it was in any way funny.

“C’mon, Silena. We’re all playing beer pong.” Silena finally spared Beckendorf a glance.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” She said, and Beckendorf managed a pathetic nod. As they retreated, Ethan couldn’t help but throw a cocky thumbs up his way, and Beckendorf felt his shoulders sag. After an awkward moment of silence between him and Drew even she left, and he was alone in the middle of the party.

You were similarly alone, having escaped Luke for some time, using the respite to get significantly drunker. You didn’t know exactly why, you’d never been one to get blackout for the sake of it. Maybe you were sick of being there, maybe you didn’t want to face all the emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Maybe, as Silena would say, you were finally becoming ‘normal’. Regardless, you were hardly aware of what was going on anymore, finally feeling like the party wasn’t total dogshit. At least until Luke grabbed another shot out of your hand. What was with that?

“Why don’t you let me have this one, huh?” He asked, bringing it up to his own lips. You intercepted, downing it before he could stop you.

“No! That one was mine,” You whined impetuously. If you were aware of your actions you would have been horrified, you almost sounded like Silena. Luke, despite his worry, almost laughed. That was, until you started taking off, again. He really didn’t anticipate you to be a wandering drunk. Luke trailed after you into another room until Ethan stopped him in the doorway, looking delighted.

“My man! How’d you get her to do it?” He asked, a vaguely misogynistic air about him.

“Do what?” Luke replied, worried for the response.

“Act like a human.” They both turned to search for you, finding you somehow on top of a table, dancing in a way that was all hips and hair. Neither could deny it was pretty hot.

You’d already attracted a crowd, half interested in your sudden change of demeanour, the other half just appreciative of an opportunity to ogle a pretty girl’s body. Ethan was a member of both groups, yelling and whooping as you grinded against nothing, Aphrodite allure keeping all eyes on you. Luke rushed over to you, knowing if he sat by and watched as you did this while out of your right mind you would never forgive him.

Intending to just coax you down Luke ended up in a serendipitous moment of being in the right place at the right time, easily catching you when you toppled over, unbalanced from knocking your head on a light hanging from the ceiling. You landed squarely in his strong arms, looking up at him in a daze.

“Are you okay?” You heard him say, though he sounded much further away than he was.

“I’m fine,” You grumbled, trying to hop up but stumbling embarrassingly back into him. Luke took it in stride, carrying you bridal style until you were out of the bulk of the crowd. Setting you down gently he kept a hand securely around your waist, leading you through the bunker out a hallway.

“I just need to lie down somewhere,” You mumbled, clutching at your pounding head.

“Absolutely not. You lie down and you’ll go to sleep.” You smiled dreamily, something that Luke returned involuntarily.

“Sleep is good.” He barked out a laugh.

“Not if you have a concussion.”

You both paused in the middle of a hallway so you could sit at a chair conveniently placed as Luke searched for a glass of water. Instead he found Beckendorf. After several unsuccessful attempts to shoo him away, Luke gave up and let him talk.

“It’s off, okay? The whole thing’s off.”

“What are you talking about?” Luke asked, sparing a glance at you; obliviously playing with a strand of hair.

“She never wanted me. She wanted Ethan the whole time.” Luke resisted the urge to roll his eyes — he really, truly, did not care.

“Charles,” He said, “Do you like this girl?”

“Yeah,” Beckendorf sighed. Luke tapped his foot.

“Right. And is she worth all this trouble?”

“I thought she was. But, well—” Luke cut him off, truly frustrated with the inexperienced boy.

“Look, she is or she isn’t. First of all, Ethan isn’t half the man you are. Secondly, don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want. Just go for it.” Luke lunged to catch you when you tipped out of the chair, a signal clear to even Beckendorf that the conversation was over. He spared the younger boy a smile before leading you away gently, murmuring promises of fresh air and feeling better. Beckendorf didn’t know what to do with Luke’s advice, but at least he wasn’t so mopey anymore.

You’d come out of your dream state back to being a little more sentient by the time you got outside, your personality returning.

“You’re so patronising,” You groaned, eyeing Luke’s hand supporting the majority of your weight.

“Leave it to you to use big words when you’re smashed,” Luke laughed slightly, removing his arms when you tried to shove them off, and snorting quietly when you tripped onto the grass.

“Why are you doing this?” You didn’t dare look at him.

“I told you, you might have a concussion. I might not be an Apollo kid, but I’ve had enough to know how to handle them.”

“You don’t care if I never wake up,” You laughed humourlessly, pushing your hair out of your face in a manner similar to that of a toddler. Luke grinned, eyes sparkling even in the dark outside.

“Sure I do.” You gave him a questioning look and he led you to a selection of flat-ish tree stumps around a clearing. “I’d have to start taking out girls who actually like me,” He explained and it was your turn to snort.

“Like you could find one.”

“See that, there? Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?” You laughed despite yourself, missing the way Luke lit up at the reaction. He helped you onto the seat, taking the one next to you. You looked over at him, unaware that the smile you thought was internal was clear as day on your face. Luke admired it, revelling in the fact that he was probably one of very few at camp who had ever seen it.

You two sat quietly for a while, making meaningless conversation — Luke told you stories you missed from the party and you regretted getting too drunk to see it all yourself.

“So why’d you let him get to you?” He asked eventually, and you cocked your head to the side.

“Who?”

“Ethan.” You groaned.

“I hate him.”

“Well you’ve chosen the perfect revenge; mainlining tequila.” You both laughed at that, and you hazily noted how good it felt to laugh with him.

“Well, you know what they say…” You joked, but Luke didn’t catch on.

“No, what do they say?” He asked with childlike innocence, but in an instant you’d slipped into sleep, comforted by the perfect summer night weather. Luke was up in a second, crouching in front of you, holding your face in both hands and frantically trying to wake you. If you’d been awake, you might’ve noted how intimate it felt. You only woke when he slapped you — lightly, but effective enough.

Gazing up at him through your lashes, you had something of an epiphany. You liked Luke. You didn’t know how you didn’t notice it before, or really how it had happened at all, but seeing him standing inches from you really brought things to light. You opened your mouth to illustrate this point, still not quite sober enough to have those reservations, but instead all that came out was “Your eyes have a little green in them.”

Luke’s face twisted from confusion to relief, lips perking up into a smile. You held eye contact for an extended moment, a foreign tension building between you both (as opposed to the old, comfortable tension you’d gotten used to when hating him). Then you threw up all over his shoes. You at least had the decency to be embarrassed about it, and Luke had the decency not to mention it, instead pulling you up to prepare for the journey of a walk back to your cabin.

Ethan had meanwhile cozied himself up between Silena and Drew, a hand over each girl’s shoulders.

“Some of us are staying out longer, going for a special swim in the lake. You in?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Silena looked up at him warily.

“My sister’ll freak if I’m not back in twenty,” She said. A lie, kind of. She didn’t actually think you were in any position to be worried about her at that moment.

“I don’t have to be back…” Drew nominated herself, cuddling in closer to Ethan’s side. He still persisted with Silena.

“One more chance…” He tried his best to be at his most attractive, but Silena was more than over the whole night.

“Oh, man. I can’t. Damn.” It was hardly believable, but Drew had decided that she wanted Ethan then, and she got what she wanted.

“That’s a shame.” She produced a saccharine smile. “Well?” Ethan held out an arm for her to take, and the two were already getting handsy on their trip down to the lake. Silena dreaded to think about the things that would be done there in the coming hours.

“Have fun tonight?” A voice asked from behind her. Beckendorf sounded accusatory, and honestly Silena couldn’t even blame him.

“Tons,” She lied, wrapping her arms around herself. He stalked past her and Silena was about to leave him be when she was struck by a realisation.

“Charles?” She called, and Beckendorf dutifully turned to face her despite his obvious angst. “Do you think you could walk me back? I don’t have a weapon and the forest really freaks me out.” Silena fully expected him to refuse, and wouldn’t have blamed him for it in the slightest, but moments later they were walking side by side along the dark path.

There was tense silence between them for a while before Beckendorf finally gathered the courage to break it.

“You never wanted to go out with me, did you?” He asked, and the earnest directness of the question shocked her.

“Yes I did,” Silena lied, trying to be nice.

“No you didn’t,” He refuted bluntly.

“Well, okay, not actually—”

“Then that’s all you had to say!” He cried, and she really did feel badly about upsetting him. “Have you always been this selfish?” He could barely hear her whispered “Yes.”

“Just because you’re beautiful, doesn’t mean you can treat people like they don’t matter. I mean, I really like you, okay? I defended you when people called you conceited, I helped you when you asked me to. I learnt how to weld for you! And then you blow me off for—”

Without thinking, Silena grabbed his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was innocent, sitting on his lips for a few seconds before pulling away, both teenagers sporting matching blushes. Silena gave him a quick smile before hopping up the steps and safely into the Aphrodite cabin. Beckendorf managed to wait until he was safely alone to celebrate, a dorky little dance and an excited fist pump.

Your night didn’t follow quite the same trajectory. You’d been walking with Luke for what felt like hours, your tired brain and feet unwilling to finish the journey. However, it was the same easy conversation that you’d started to enjoy with Luke more often.

“I should start a band, I always wanted to — my father would love that.” You’d approached the cabins from the back, and the two of you had stopped near the rear wall, still hidden away out of sight and earshot.

“You don’t strike me as the type to ask your father for permission,” He said, leaning against the wood panelled wall.

“Oh, so now you think you know me?” You raised an eyebrow, standing opposite to him with your back to the woods.

“I’m getting there,” He replied, and his earnestness caught you off guard. You talked through your nerves.

“The only thing people know about me is that I’m ‘scary’.”

“Yeah, well, I’m no picnic either.” The tension crept back again as you looked at each other, but Luke pushed through it. “So, what’s with your dad? Pain in the ass?”

“No,” You conceded, “He just wants me to be someone I’m not.”

“Who?”

“Silena.” You couldn’t help the edge of bitterness that infiltrated your voice, and Luke suddenly understood a lot more about you.

“No offence or anything, I mean, I know everyone’s obsessed with your sister. But… she’s not all that.” You stared at him, unable to withhold the small smile that had crept onto your lips. No one had ever said that before.

“You know, you’re not as vile as I thought you were.” You leaned in, eyes fluttering closed. You could feel Luke’s hot breath mixing with yours, and another fraction of an inch and you’d be…

Luke’s hands were on your shoulders suddenly, softly moving the two of you apart.

“Maybe we should do this another time,” He said. Your eyes opened with a start, and you could feel red hot blush unfurling up your neck and onto your cheeks. In an instant your hardened expression was back more than ever, and you stomped past him up to your cabin, humiliation churning in your stomach, replacing any alcohol that might’ve lingered as you suddenly felt stone cold sober.

Luckily Silena and your younger siblings were all asleep by the time you returned, and the older ones were all off doing who-knows-what, so you effectively had the cabin to yourself. When you lay down in your bunk, makeup still on and shoes barely kicked off, you sobbed. You cried like you hadn’t in a long time, feeling stupid and ridiculous and hardly like a daughter of Aphrodite. You could only imagine what your mother would think of the mortifying display, and cried even harder.

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love #fluff #luke castellan #pjo series #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson show #percy jackson tv show #pjo #luke castellan pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #percy jackson #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you

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whiskeyghoul · 4 months

Text

Pt.6 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!reader]

First part, Previous part, Next part

A/N: Ah okay this took a bit longer than expected. I really wanted to do this justice but that took a while oops. I really hope you enjoy it. A bit more good vibes towards the end. There are more plans for part 7 with backstory so hopefully that will be up and going soon. Maybe some spice? If people want? Let me know. Remember to please reblog when you can!

WC: 3,4K

Tags: alt reader, little hurt comfort, past relationships, making up, hurt comfort-ish, fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of past relationship, toxic relationships, hinting at nsfw

Your POV

When Spencer left the office it took a few moments for Penelope to return. Being alone in the room, surrounded by computers and Garcia trinkets, it was still incredibly lonely. You felt horrible, tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. Like they had been the entire day. You felt like a dick. Spencer had been nothing but nice, kind, looking at you with those big brown eyes like you were the only person in the world. It was just unfair that when you finally had something, someone, to look forward to talking to, that it was all taken away. You were at fault too of course. It wasn’t just the situation, you actively pushed him away but only to keep him from getting hurt.

The door opened, Penelope walked in looking concerned. “Boy genius looked upset. What happened? What did you tell him?” the two questions you really didn’t want to answer. “I just told him I needed time to work on something. Fix something.” You answered after swallowing thickly. “You didn’t tell him about Tommy?” You told Penelope before about how bad your ex was, how he had snuck into the building and left you a ‘gift’. It was always about Tommy. He made sure of that. Popping back into your life when things went well. Squashing any form of happiness down, stamping it into the ground.

The thing with Tommy was that when you had been together he had been almost dismissive when it came to showing it. Your relationship felt shallow, like you didn’t know the person you had been with. Only discussing the basics, never truly getting to know each other on a deeper level, when you did it was a rare occasion and you both used it against each other. You had a different kind of passion though. There was undeniable tension in the way you teased and called eachother names. It was a love hate relationship if you had ever seen one. Hate seemed to be your way of love with him. It lasted 6 months.

You don’t even remember how it came to be, because it happened on a drunken night out with a mutual friend. A former friend. Who made a comment about the way you berated eachother like an old married couple. You made a comment about how you’d never do him. He made a comment about how you would be lucky to have him. Jabs were made, words were said. Then suddenly, the next morning, you woke up in his apartment with your clothes discarded on the ground and black lipstick marks on his neck. Somehow it happened, and you don’t remember hating it, nor the time after. That was the start of it.

You do remember hating the end of it. Every week ended with a fight, and not in the way you had been used to. This didn’t have the usual quips and remarks, no it was truly using sore spots to anger each other. Every week he would try to make up, apologize, buy flowers or make dinner. But every week would end the same as the one before it. You were stressed, sick and tired of the continuous flip flopping of his personality. His words were venom, and every week it settled deeper into your body, festering, feeding this growing idea of leaving him. When you finally found the courage, the right time, his reaction shocked you.

He hit you.

He apologized profusely after that. Trying to reconcile once again but that was the straw that broke the camel's back. You packed up the few items you had at his apartment and left. Still he didn’t seem to be able to let it go. Every so often he would pop into your life. Like he had done the weekend before, leaving a gift on your doorstep. Something to remind you he was still there, watching you, following every step you took and swooping in as soon as you got close to someone. Making you relive the entire thing. This time it was a small paper gift bag with a tag that stated he missed you, inside was a jewelry box you didn’t even open. It sat there on your doorstep for 3 days until you caved and brought it inside. Still though, it sat on your dining room table, unopened.

“Yeah… He uh… I don’t want Spencer to be caught in the middle of it. I don’t know how far Tommy is willing to go.” You shook your head slightly, trying to shake away the memories. Penelope stared at you, mouth slightly agape “And you didn’t think that the FBI agent could help you with your problem?” she managed to bring out, there was clear confusion in her face. “Yes, but I need to do this myself. I don’t want to burden Spencer with this. It’s my thing, and I won’t let him ruin something good again.” You took a deep breath, knowing you might have ruined your chances with Spencer just now. It made your heart ache, terribly so. “I can hack his phone, tell him to back off, put a virus on it so it opens every porn site known to mankind as soon as it gets close to you?” Penelope’s tone being serious made you crack a smile. “Let’s keep that as our plan B.” There was a hint of humor returned in your voice.

You thought about it, you really liked Spencer. Tommy was standing in the way of things for you and you needed to get him out of your life once and for all. You looked to Penelope, “I just hope I didn’t lose my chance with Spencer.” You admitted before you were enveloped in a tight hug. “I’ll keep an eye on him, let you know if our boy genius comes back.” She said as you returned the hug. She was a good friend. The best. Always looking out for you and you so hoped she felt the same about you. You thanked her before you took your leave. Promising to keep her updated on what you were doing.

You: ‘Is Spencer back?’

You texted Penelope the question as you sat in the lab waiting for the centrifuge to finish. It was Wednesday, you had been able to talk to Tommy that Sunday. Talk was a big word. He took your contact as an admission that you still liked him. That you wanted him back. When you told him to leave you alone he got angry. Which threw you right back to the fights that you had with him before. It was like nothing changed for him. Things had changed for you though. You finally realized he didn’t care about you, he didn’t want you back, he wanted the idea of you.

Spencer hadn’t shown up to work again since Thursday.

Penny: ‘No, I wanted to go check on him. I can’t get a hold of him.’

Penelope replied to your text. The ding of your phone pulling your attention back to it. The fact that Penelope, the sweetest, most caring, technologically adept person you knew couldn’t get a hold of him meant he really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. ‘I’ll try and text him again.’ You sent the message to Penelope before quickly changing to Spencer’s contact. Your previous messages sat unanswered.

You: ‘Spencer, can we talk?’ Sun, 16:30

You: ‘Are you coming into work today?’ Mon, 8:38

You: ‘Spencer? Could you please answer me? I want to talk about what happened.’ Mon, 12:45

You: ‘I fixed it.’ Mon, 12:46

You: ‘Please text me when you see this.’ Tue, 15:24

It was ironic. These messages were so similar to what Tommy had sent you when you first broke up. You really didn’t want to become like him. Just when you had finally gotten rid of him. You sighed, typing out a new message. Hitting send you quietly waited for a reply. Turning the chair you had been sitting in. Looking at the phone screen every few seconds, anxious for an answer. Watching the minutes pass by felt like it was taking forever. Until the phone buzzed alive, the screen lit up with a message.

You: ‘Spencer, everyone is worried. Just let me know you’re alive.’ Wed, 12:36

Spence: ‘I’m okay’ Wed, 12:40

You breathed a sigh of relief, the nerves settling down. Finally, he was speaking to you again. Or well, texting you again. Which was better than nothing in all honesty. Missing spencer for 6 days has been torture. No conversations, no lunch together, not even a quick pop by the lab just to get the notes on a case. You didn’t think you could miss someone so much. Especially when you had only known each other for a few weeks.

You: ‘I’m coming over after work. I need to talk to you.’

Spencer: ‘What? You don’t have to. I really don’t need you to check up on me.’

You: ‘It’s not about checking up on you. I want to apologize in person, explain what happened…’

Spencer: ‘You don’t even know where I live.’

You: ‘So text me your address. Or I can ask your colleagues for it.’

Spencer: ‘...’

Spencer: ‘Alright.’

You: ‘I’ll get you something to eat on the way over. Anything you want.’

Spencer sent you his address, and a request for chicken tandoori from a place near his apartment. A smile crossed your lips, he had needed time but he was accepting you coming over. Maybe, you could make up. There was just a little glimmer of hope. You quickly texted Penelope that Spencer was alive, and you were going to check up on him later that day. Explaining you were going to talk about what happened, to hopefully get on his good side again. Maybe have a shot at going on a date again, though that was probably too soon. You realized you had hurt his feelings, terribly so, but it was to make sure you could get rid of Tommy. Without him hurting Spencer in the process. You didn’t know what he would be able to do. An explanation was necessary, for sure.

So you stood in front of Spencer’s apartment door. Bag of Thai take-out in hand. You had texted Spencer before you left the Thai place, letting him know your ETM just to make sure he was prepared for you showing up. Nerves had begun to coarse through your body. The fact he could still be angry with you was weighing deeply in your mind. Though accepting your coming over was a step in the right direction it didn’t mean he’d necessarily want to listen to what you had to say. You just hoped he would be willing to listen. To have a conversation.

You reached your free hand up, knocking on the apartment door. Waiting a few seconds before hearing movement inside. The door opened and Spencer stood in the entrance. His hair was disheveled, a slightly large cardigan hung from his frame, just a t-shirt underneath. His eyes were tinged red. He looked… not so great. Tired. You had really hurt him. A sinking feeling in your stomach, it was terrible to see him like this. You never wanted this. “Hey.” The word came out strained. “Hi.” Spencer said in return, his eyes looked you over. You realized you weren’t looking so hot yourself either. Comfy clothes had been your go to for the past 2 days, a sadness settling in your bones at not seeing Spencer, not hearing from him. A way too large zip up from some band you didn’t listen to anymore, with holes at the cuffs from nervously picking at them in times of distress. You had foregone makeup too, not feeling the motivation for it the past days.

“I brought the thai you wanted. We should eat before it gets cold.” You said, holding up the take away bag with a sad smile. Spencer took a step to the side, “Right, thanks.” He said as you walked past him into the apartment. It was somehow exactly what you expected from Spencer but still surprising. There were books everywhere you looked. The massive shelves that lined a wall were filled to the brim. There was a leather couch in his living room, where a blanket laid haphazardly over the arm. A small table sat next to the window, a chessboard atop with a game configuration.

It smelled like him.

“I really like your apartment, it suits you.” You complimented as you had your look around. Taking everything in as Spencer walked to a small dining room area. “Thanks.” Spencer’s answers were short. Annoyingly so. You walked over to the table, placing the take out on the table. Watching as Spencer got plates and cutlery out and handed you your set. You got all the food out, separating yours and Spencers out and placing them on different sides of the table. You wanted to face him when you apologized. So when you both sat down you took a deep breath. “You w-” “I am s-” Both Spencer and you spoke at the same time. It was so similar to when you had both spoken that Thursday before. You let out a soft laugh, it was borderline ironic that when you wanted to apologize it happened in a similar fashion as when you upset him.

Spencer looked at you with a hint of confusion, maybe a bit of disdain at your laugh, “You wanted to talk?” he said as he piled his plate with the chicken tandoori that smelled so flavourful. “Yes. I wanted to explain, apologize…” you said, slowly putting some rice and chicken masala on your own plate. “I am sorry about what I said. I was afraid you would be caught in the middle of things that would put me in a bad light. Or maybe make you realize I am not worth the trouble.” You started, “I have an ex, Tommy, who ehm… how do I even explain this.” You felt nervous, this was the first time you had actually said something about Tommy to a guy you might like. “Tommy wasn’t the greatest. And when I finally broke up with him he couldn’t let it go.” You watched Spencer’s expression change, you couldn’t place it though, it wasn’t pity. Pity is what you usually get when you tell people about your emotionally abusive ex. No, this was different.

“He stalks you?” He said before you could continue. You were a little surprised he found that out with the words you used. Before remembering that’s what he does, behavioral analyst. Finding answers through just the smallest of details. “I hope he won’t anymore.” You answered, “I talked to him. He found out about you. After we went to the museum together he had left me something.” You continued, “And it made me realize that I didn’t know how far he was willing to go to keep me from meeting someone. I did not want you to realize I am not worth the trouble of dealing with a stalker. Or, for you to get hurt because of something he did.” you fell silent, Spencer was so too. His eyes on you felt heavy. Analyzing every little move, facial expression. “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t… I don’t think that. I wouldn’t think you aren’t worth the trouble.” He sounded just a little upset. Like the mere thought of you not being worth the trouble was appalling to him. “But you still could have gotten hurt.” You protested. “If I was scared of getting hurt I wouldn’t have joined the FBI.” He answered so seriously. It made a wave of relief wash over you.

Spencer took a bite of his food, which reminded you that yes, you were here to eat too. “So… You’re not mad at me?” You asked before taking a small bite of your own food. It was nice, Spencer was right to order from here. “I’m not… I was sad, a little confused at first. I knew you were hurt too… which is why I wasn’t mad. And I am not mad now.” He explained after swallowing his bite. “I am hurt that you didn’t tell me. That you think I would leave at the first signs of trouble.”

You nodded your head, he had a right to be hurt. “I’m sorry, I was just, people tend to leave. Or I don’t let them get close enough to really know what was going on. It caught me off guard that you were the first. How quickly it happened too.” your voice still sounded a little strained. Speaking words and thoughts that had subconsciously taken up your mind. Ones that you didn’t give the time of day before to fully develop, to acknowledge. Penelope sent him on purpose, she must have known, or had an inkling that the good doctor would break down your walls. His disarming nature, sweet demeanor, his smile. Everything about him made you feel safe. It was terrifying.

“So what did you say to get him to back off?” Spencer asked, seemingly a little interested, though his voice was a little soft. You cleared your mouth, “Well… I don’t know if it worked just yet.” you started. “But, I eventually made him realize how stupid it is to threaten a person who has access to lab equipment and various kinds of poison. Oh and also that if he so much as glances at me again Penelope will put a virus on all his electronics that will cause them to irrevocably be loaded with porn and viruses.” You felt just a little devious, a small smirk playing on your lips. You looked up at Spencer who had his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide as he processed your words. He looked surprised until a soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Remind me to stay on your good side.” He laughed.

You missed that sound more than you would like to admit. More than you expected.

“I don’t think you could ever get on my bad side.” You said it, eyes softening as you looked at Spencer. His eyes mirrored yours. There was a kindness in them with a hint of sadness still. “I wouldn’t even want to try.” he said those words almost like a whisper. They were imbued with tenderness. It made a shiver run up your spine, a warmth settled in your stomach. “Can we go back to normal?” You asked, putting down your utensils on the table, “Please?” You didn’t want to plead but you didn’t want to lose Spencer. The only thing on your mind was wanting to be close to him again. You waited, watching as Spencer thought for a moment. The silence was nerve wracking. The only thing you could feel in that moment was your heartbeat. The seconds felt like minutes instead. You waited in bated breath hoping he’d be willing to make up. Hands fidgeting with the holes in your sleeves. Teeth assaulting the inside of your lip.

“Yeah… I’d like that.” You let out the breath you had been holding, relief washing over you at his words. Shoulders sagging down as finally relaxation took over fully. “Thank you, I couldn’t stand not hearing from you every day.” you spoke and you watched Spencer visibly relax too at your words. “It was hard to ignore you.” He confessed. “You better never do it again then.” Yeah, this started to feel normal again. “And you better finish your food. You gotta get up early to meet me before starting tomorrow.” You teased, taking a bite of your own food. “Or you c-'' Spencer stopped himself, a small blush tinging his cheeks. It was a little surprising, you didn’t understand what he wanted to say, but he looked extremely adorable blushing. “If you want, we could watch a movie after?” He said, it wasn’t what he wanted to say at first, but it was something that he wanted to spend time with you again. “I’d love to.” You nodded your head yes.

So after dinner, you sat on his couch together. Both dressed in your shabbiest clothes. Your head leaned against his shoulder, a blanket wrapped around the both of you. The smell of Spencer completely enveloping you. Completely at ease. Though still wondering what he really had wanted to say.

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#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #alt reader #goth reader #she blinded me with science #tumblr writer #hurt/comfort #part 6 #multi part fic #spencer reid x goth reader #spencer reid x alt reader

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rollinouttahere-writes · 10 months

Note

Shanks rocks up to Lucky and Buggy’s wedding

Interacts with Lucky for like a minute: “you know what, this is nice, real nice, how about instead of it being your wedding (to buggy) it becomes mine”

Got inspired, did a little drabble

Frankly, this whole situation was embarrassing. Not only had you stupidly promised your hand in marriage to a god damn clown, you had now allowed yourself to be captured by said clown. Ashamed was not a strong enough word for how you felt.

Luckily for you, you'd been able to afford yourself some time away from what is regrettably your fiance by insisting that it was traditional for the bride and groom to not see each other right before the wedding. Admittedly, you didn't care much about it, you just wanted to give yourself some time alone and a chance to escape.

This was made difficult thanks to you being stuffed in a wedding gown by a very nervous seamstress that you're 99% sure was here against her will and being locked in the dressing room once she was finished. You weren't about to give up, though. Maybe you could squeeze yourself out of the window?

The escape attempt was shot down almost immediately by a knock at your door. Without waiting for an answer, whoever it was unlocked it and let themselves in. You'd assumed it was Buggy being unable to wait to see you in the wedding gown, but instead a red haired man came in. You can't help but wonder if he's lost, his clothing looks far too casual to be wedding attire.

His smile was warm and he held out a hand to you, "It's nice to finally meet you! I never thought I'd see the day where Buggy got married."

You had no idea who this man was, but politely returned the handshake regardless. His hand was rough and calloused, he most certainly didn't lead a leisurely lifestyle. The sooner you could end this interaction and send him on his way, the sooner you could make a run for it. You laughed awkwardly, "Yeah, I never thought I'd see the day either."

The man raised a brow at your response, but didn't comment on how forced it sounded. You attempted to pull your hand away when the handshake went on for longer than you deemed necessary, but his grip was too tight. It wasn't until you pulled again, harder this time, that he realized what he was doing and let go.

Even he seemed a little startled by his own actions. He scratched the back of his head and chuckled, "Sorry about that, my crew and I were up all night getting ready for the wedding when we caught word of it. I guess I'm a little more tired than I realized." His eyes gave you a once over, fully taking in the gown you were wearing, "Oh, and you look lovely by the way, I can see why he's in such a rush to get a ring on your finger."

"Oh, thank you, that's so kind of you," your voice was borderline monotone. "Also it's fine, don't worry about it." His excuse made sense. With how many people there were that would happily end Buggy if it meant even a slightly improved chance at being with you, the wedding was rushed to say the least. You're pretty sure Buggy was actively hunting down someone to officiate the union as you spoke.

You honestly hadn't expected to see any guests here beyond Buggy's own crew, which again raised the question of: Who are you talking to?

Might as well sate your curiosity and ask, "So... Are you a friend of his?"

His brows raised and his eyes widened slightly. Were you supposed to know who he was already? Oops. He spoke up before you could wrack your brain for clues as to who he was, "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that he didn't mention me, he's always been a bit... Moody. I'm Shanks, we grew up together."

Your jaw hit the floor. Shanks? THE Shanks??? The guy that Luffy couldn't shut up about?!

"Y-Y-You're the guy that gave Luffy his hat!" You pointed at him with a shaky hand as all decorum and manners went out the window from the shock of knowing who you were talking to.

Shanks laughed loudly, "The one and only. How is that kid anyway? Seems like he's still getting himself into trouble just like the old days."

"Calling what he gets up to 'trouble' is putting it mildly," that boy can't take two steps onto an island without toppling a government. "He's great though, especially after rescuing Ace."

"I was relieved to see him get out of there safely, too. It's still a bit hard to believe that Buggy is the one who pulled it off, though."

Ah. Yeah. It was hard to believe for you, too. And even more difficult to accept just what that meant for you. You deflated as you were violently reminded of your current situation, "Yeah, I can't believe it either."

"Is everything alright? You don't seem very excited about the wedding," Shanks narrowed his eyes at you, scrutinizing your face for any hints as to why you were acting this way.

You weren't sure if confiding in him was a good idea. He clearly held a level of fondness for Buggy, so it was debatable if he would want to help you escape or keep you here. But... It's not like you had much to lose at this point.

"It's, uh, kind of a funny story. You see, I might've said something along the lines of 'if you save Ace, I will marry you', but like, I didn't think he'd actually be able to do it. So now I'm kinda stuck in this mess where he thinks I really meant it, but I didn't, and we're getting married in like ten minutes give or take and I don't know what to do?" You can only hope that your hastily thrown together explanation not only makes sense, but also earns you some sympathy.

Shanks lips were pursed as he stared down at you, "I did find it odd that your door was locked from the outside."

Hope sparked in your heart. In a fit of desperation, you threw yourself at Shanks and held onto him while looking into his eyes pleadingly, "Please, if you can just get me out of this room, I will really owe you one!" You're sure that the Straw Hats can't be far behind. If you can just get to the shore, they'll likely be there and ready to save you.

His hand rested on your back to keep you steady. Then, it started to gently glide up and down the exposed skin, which felt distinctly not like it was for your comfort. Horror seeped into your very core as you saw an all too familiar gleam in his eyes.

No, please, no. This can't be happening again.

"It would be a shame to let this dress go to waste... Maybe we can continue this on the Red Force? How does that sound?"

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and you saw an absolutely enraged Buggy standing in the entryway. "What are you doing here?! Get away from my wife!"

"But you aren't married yet, she could still be anybody's wife," Shanks tone was teasing but the look in his eyes was anything but.

That set Buggy off and in an instant he was throwing knives right at Shanks who dodged them with ease. You were shoved off to the side as Buggy kept trying and failing to land a hit on Shanks. While the red haired pirate was trying to engage in some witty banter, the clown was having none of it and just shrieked various insults at him.

Using the chaos of the altercation, you quietly slipped out of the room and made a run for it. There wasn't a chance in hell that you were going to stick around to see who won that fight. Because either way, you would be losing.

#lucky break #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece #buggy the clown #red haired shanks #shanks #humanoid606

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smallsdotcom · 2 years

Text

EXPECTING … drabble

pairing : hoseok x idol!f!reader (background poly bts) genre : fluff, comedy, idol au warnings : drunk hobi, drunk hobi is dramatic

hoseok notices how you’ve been acting strange and automatically assumes something that’s not necessarily true. oops, but he already told the others.

hoseok wasn’t one to assume things. especially when it came to you, he was always the first one to talk to you in order to figure out what’s wrong.

but this is the first time he’s so sure about something that he doesn’t talk to you about it. instead he immediately sends a text to the group’s leader, so many spelling errors thanks to his rushed and slightly buzzed mind.

I THINK YN IS OREGENRT !!! SHES NOT DRUNKING LIKE SHE USUAL DOESSSSS!!!

namjoon could only facepalm at the text before he ends up just calling the rapper.

“what are you talking about?” namjoon does well in keeping a calm tone, but can’t help the butterflies that begin to form in his stomach.

“i’m teelllling youuuu that i think our baby princess cinnamon roll is cooking a bun in the ovennnnnn,” hoseok is probably more than buzzed right now and namjoon realizes that the longer he listens to his boyfriend speak.

“why do you think y/n’s pregnant?” namjoon asks and a gasp is immediately heard from behind him where he sees taehyung looking at him in shock.

“y/n’s pregnant?” his tone is so cheery that he would really hate to be the one to break the news, but knows he will have to do it anyways.

“hoseok claims she is, but hoseok is also drunk right now,” namjoon says which is a roundabout way of saying don’t get your hopes up.

taehyung will still get his hopes up.

“listen, she’s not drinking anything and she ALWAYS drinks when we go out. why else would she not??”

“because it’s your night and she’s trying to watch after you while you have fun?” namjoon responds back with a raise eyebrow and he knows hoseok is probably rolling his eyes.

“if she’s pregnant does this mean i’m gonna be a daddy?” hoseok completely ignore namjoon and is now in his own little world. “does this mean we are ALL GOING TO BE DADDIES??”

“hoseok calm down.”

“I AM CALM JOON BUT AM I READY TO BE A DADDY!? oh god, i think i’m going to pass out.”

“hobi give the phone to y/n,” namjoon says making the male groan.

“i can’t she went to get me more drinks. oh god i don’t deserve her. she’s here with me pregnant and also getting me more drinks. what a beautiful mommy.”

namjoon feels his eyes roll so far into the back of his head that he fears they might get stuck.

“is y/n pregnant?” namjoon turns to see maknae line, minus you of course, now standing behind him. their eyes all twinkling at the news of their girlfriend being pregnant.

“i don’t know, go away,” he shoos the three off, but instead jungkook is quick to pull out his phone in favor of trying to call you.

“hell—

“ARE YOU PREGNANT!?” you pull the phone away from your ear at the sheer volume of jungkook’s voice.

“umm… ow. no! i’m not pregnant, why are asking something like that all of a sudden?”

“cause hobi called namjoon and is crying about you being pregnant,” taehyung explains and you are the one who rolls your eyes.

“i’m not pregnant. there, happy now? gotta go bye, maybe love you,” you say quickly hanging up as you make your way over to your drunk boyfriend. you are quick to take the phone out of his hand, hanging up without a word.

hoseok is quick to pout at you but you grab the sides of his face making him look at you.

“my pretty mommy,” he says with a drunk slur, eyes glazed over as he looks at you.

“i. am. not. pregnant,” you tell him with a stern tone which immediately makes his pout bigger.

“you aren’t? so i was worried for nothing?”

“why would you be worried about if i was pregnant? is that a bad thing if i was?”

“no! i’m just worried if i would be a good dad or not. what if you have the baby and then the i turn out to do a terrible job and let you and the others down?”

“hobi, you will be a wonderful dad someday. me and the others would have nothing to worry when it comes to you being a good dad. so don’t worry okay?”

“okay… but wait, if you aren’t pregnant then why aren’t you drinking?”

“because i need to take care of you, silly boy,” you laugh before kissing his nose making him smile warmly at you.

“come on, let’s party a little longer!” hoseok says before dragging you with him to the dancefloor.

#girlzilla.#poly bts x reader #bts x reader #bts 8th member #bts added member #bts addition #idol!reader #idol au #bts fluff #hoseok fluff #hoseok x reader #bts female member #bts imagines #bts drabble #[ 🧾 ] — diary entries

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spicyclover · 2 years

Note

Hey! Would you like to write one for Charles where he can't drive his normal car (for whatever reason), so he asks the reader for help, but she's kind of nervous and thinks there will be some judging? 😅

Bad Tooth

Summary: A dentist appointment and a ride home.

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

If there's one thing Charles doesn't like, it is the dentist. He hates it. Even as a child, he would do anything to not go. But after spending a week with an abominable toothache, he is unfortunately forced to.

To be honest, you forced him. You couldn’t take off his complaints anymore, all day, and after treating him like a baby so he’d understand, he finally made an appointment.

So that’s why you find yourself in the dentist’s parking lot arguing for Charles to get out of the car.

"Charles, please can we get out?"

"No, I feel way better now."

"That's a lie. You know it. I know it. Everybody knows it. Do I have to take you by the hand like the child you are?" He evaluates your proposition before saying anything else.

"That's not fair," he wines before getting out of the car, acting like the child he is.

You chuckle a bit before following his step to the dentist's office. You waited for a few minutes before the dentist was ready to see Charles. Before going, he looks at you with puppy eyes, imploring you to say something. But you just rolled your eyes and pushed him to the man.

The appointment took longer than expected, and you start to worry. You go up to the receptionist and ask for an update.

"Hi, sorry to bother you, but do you know what going on with M.Leclerc?"

"Give me a minute," You wait by the desk while she goes behind. You’re wondering if what he’s got is worse than you thought. "Thank you for waiting, so Mr. Leclerc is currently under anesthesia, and the dentist is removing two wisdom teeth. The surgery should end in five minutes, and then you can go home."

"Wisdom teeth?"

"Yes, apparently it was quite bad. The doctor will get to you soon."

You thank her and get back to your seat. "So he wasn't pretending... Oops." You might have thought he was lying when he started complaining about it, and you guessed it was one of his many schemes to get your attention. "Well, we can all be wrong sometimes."

The dentist comes to get you several minutes later, and you're now allowed to see Charles. You walk into the room, and you see him totally buzzed out. He's so high right now, and his mouth is like ten times his normal size, and you can't help but laugh a bit.

You take your phone out and capture this unique moment of Charles looking like a squirrel being high on drugs.

"No... no pic... pict... pictures," he mumbles while drooling.

"Sorry, baby, but the others won't believe me if I don't."

"Ha... hate... hate you."

"No, you don't, you love me, and now your teeth won't hurt anymore." You laugh, trying to be positive.

"I lo... I loov live a squerrel.

"Yeah, you do. But I love my squerrel." You chuckle, kissing the top of his head.

"Hate... hate hich."

"Let's go home, baby."

The dentist gives you the last information for the few weeks to come, and you can't help but laugh at Charles's face when he tells him you couldn't eat solid food or make any physical effort for at least the first week. His look was priceless.

You tried to be compassionate, but Charles makes such a big deal when you get yours removed that you can't help but do the same. You texted the entire grid and his family, his face, for at least a few weeks. Was it a low move? Probably. Was it worth it? Totally.

You get back to the car, and Charles hands you his keys. You look at him for ten seconds before realizing he can't drive like this. Your eyes open wide, and you want to protest, but he shushes you. Well, not really, it’s more drool than anything, but you understand what he wants.

Your sight and get behind the wheel after setting Charles down. It's his time to laugh. You watch him set his seatbelt and hang on to the door while you start the Ferrari.

"It's not funny."

"Oh, ish funny," he gibberish, half joking, half whining by the pain. "Chart ye engine, bae."

You press the button, but nothing happens. You press it again, and nothing. You frustrated yourself, wishing you had taken your normal car.

"hress the hedal."

You start the car and press the pedal but nothing.

"Hress the hedal!"

"That's what am doing!" You say annoying.

"Hress the rite hepal."

You do as he says, and the engine finally goes on. You smile, looking at Charles, thinking it's now only a matter of going home, but no. You try to change the gear, and the car stalls. Charles giggles, completely high by his meds, while you start again and try to get to first gear.

It's gonna be a long ride, you start thinking. You're not even out of the parking, and it's already a nightmare. You complain about the car and look at Charles, who's entirely soon out.

You arrive at the parking doors and start going in the street. You're way lower than the permit limitation, and Charles encourages you to go faster. You're so nervous that you don't even realize you’re holding the wheel with all your might. How Charles trusts you enough with his car in this city?

"Ou doing reat, bae!" Says Charles putting his hand and yours.

It's only then, that you realize the grip you have on the wheel.

"reath." He inspires and exhales at the same time as you.

"I hate this!" You declare when another motorist cuts the road, making you almost have an accident.

You have to brake hard, which makes Charles tighten his teeth, and you know he’s in pain. You apologize to Charles and rant after all the cars you pass.

"God, you must hate me right now. I'm so sorry Cha."

"ish okay. Ou doing reat. Ust ocus on the road." He says, holding on for his life when you almost pass at a red.

"You must thing I drive terribly, but it's your car. Pretty sure something wrong with it." You say, finally pulling in the entry of the complex.

You park the car and finally exhale when the engine stop.

"I'm never doing this again. Next time, we're taking the bus."

Charles chuckles and takes your hand. He leans on you, and you walk to the elevator. Once home, Charles went to rest, and you spent the rest of the afternoon worrying that he might not trust you again with his car.

You prepared his dinner, and his drug wore off after his nap. He still looks like a squirrel, but at least he's not high anymore. You gave him his soup, and he frowns when he says your right hand completely eating up to the flesh.

"Baby. What happen?"

"What?"

"Your nails."

"It's nothing. I had an anxiety episode after we came home."

"Why?"

"Well, I almost killed us."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your car, Charles."

"Oh," he laughs. "You did truly amazing, amour. "I mean you need practice, but you did Wonderfull and we are here, and safe. You should have to wake me."

You smile and hug him tight. Even in your darkest days, he sees your potential and always encourages you to go beyond your limits. You don’t know what you did to deserve him, but you love him. You want to kiss him so badly, but that will wait until he recovers.

"I'm never going back to the dentist," complains Charles taking the pain killers. "It's the worst day of my life."

You laugh and give him the ice for his swollen cheek.

"Did you post the photos?"

"I did." You says, taking your phone out to show him.

It's only then you realize that you didn't send the photos to the group chat but to your Instagram story...

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fluff #fluff

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ghoulangerlee · 2 months

Note

Leeeeee dear friend

How about...New Summon Mountain very quickly realizing that the human world is just not sized for beings as tall and large as he is. Everywhere he goes he's knocking things over, banging his head on doorways, accidentally bumping things and people with his tail. He feels like a bull in a china shop and sometimes he just wishes he was smaller.

mac you are actually my hero i need you to know this asdlkfjdsf it came through and OH.

this became a look into Mountain's mind; no serious content warnings here, but there's some sadness and self hate, Mountain's not in a good place mentally after he's summoned.

A nice little bright ending tho <3 also my first time actually writing the ghouls from the end of Terzo's era while Terzo is still alive lmaooo this is like a vague look into my own personal lore for ghoul summonings and stuff like that haha. (i also did not read over this so im sorry if there's any glaring errors oops. goodnight!)

He claws his way out of the Pit with a great gasp, his fingers curled as he grips onto the stone flooring under his hand—he feels a few of them start to crumble under his strength, but he can also feel the pull of the Pit still, trying to call him back into her clutches.

A great roar releases itself from his throat as he heaves himself up out of the swirling magic, landing with a heavy thud as stone crumbles under the impact—a growl building as his eyes adjust in the low light.

There's several people standing around, a man with skull paint on his face—watching him with a curious look.

"I'm Papa Emeritus the Third," the man says, stepping forward and swiping away the edges of the summoning circle with his foot, the turbulent magic dying down as soon as the connection disturbed. "Welcome to the Surface, Ghoul."

Being on the Surface is a lot different from the Pit—up here, he has a name, something given to him to help identify him, the man, Papa Emeritus the Third, had said.

There's a lot to learn, to understand, etiquette that he'd never expected to be introduced to; how to greet people in the church who held a higher standing than him, honorifics for certain people. None of it made sense in his mind, where he was from, everyone was equal and things like names and honorifics didn't exist for him.

But, he was Mountain now, the drummer of the band that Papa Emeritus the Third led.

A ghoul summoned from Below to aid in spreading of Satan's word.

(Though Mountain is sure that He would have a few things to say about how this specific church chooses to do that.)

There was something off about everything on the Surface—his magic felt weak and his joints ached the longer he stayed glamoured, something he'd been taught from the beginning that he was to be, unless he was in his private quarters.

But even in his private quarters, the walls felt like they were closing in, the ceiling too low for his over seven foot unglamoured form, his horns scraping painfully against stone every time he turned—even his bed was too short for him to sleep properly in either form, shoulders aching painfully as he slept curled in on himself, his tail hanging off the bed in an uncomfortable manner.

He blames it mostly on the fact he can't really feel his magic, and he aches for it sometimes, goes barefoot on the stone floors of the church just to feel something while he's being carted around and taught how to be a good band ghoul.

Classes, day in and day out where he has to focus what little magic he can and use to to make his form into something smaller and human—it's a nauseating feeling for him, the sharp words of his mentor, another earth ghoul who'd been summoned nearly thirty years ago now, practically berating him for not catching on immediately.

(The Clergy demands the best of the best to be summoned, if you're not up for it we can send you back and summon someone who is.)

The words cut deep, but he keeps his mouth shut, drains what little natural magic is left in the stone floors and funnels it into his own, shrinks his great horns down until they're nothing more than a pressure he can feel building at his temples, begging to be freed.

He stumbles now that the weight is gone, his tail knocking over the table behind him—a tray of dishes goes crashing down to the floor, shattering on the stone.

His mentor just huffs, and Mountain can't see his face but he knows that there's a look of displeasure there.

Stuck halfway between glamoured and not—his horns gone but his height still there, he's dismissed for the day with a sharp wave, another vague threat of being sent back rolling off of the earth ghoul's tongue.

When he leaves, he hits his head on the top of the doorway, the sound echoing into the room behind him; he thinks the earth ghoul huffs again, but he doesn't dwell on it—not really, nursing a head wound as he makes his way back to his room.

He shouldn't be having this much issue with his glamour, with his magic, but he feels blocked. It feels wrong.

He feels too tall for the Surface, too tall to be part of the band—he's met the others, the quintessence ghoul Aether, the fire ghoul Ifrit, even the water ghoul Dewdrop, and Zephyr, an air ghoul who'd been promoted from a different job within the church, he's still tall, taller than the rest of the band, his glamour half stuck somewhere between a towering six foot six and seven foot

He wants to me smaller too, like the others—he's seen them without glamour, they're all taller than the humans of the church, but with magic, they're able to change that, able to make themselves look normal.

No matter how hard Mountain tries, he can't.

"Hey there big guy," Dewdrop's voice startles Mountain out of his concentration, his tail warping into existence and he stumbles at the sudden weight of it—unwieldy and annoying, in the way as it sweeps across the floor and takes three folding chairs with it.

Mountain hisses something, voice going deep and all encompassing as he berates himself in a language that he hasn't spoken since before being summoned—he feels too much, everything all at once, closing in on him, hands fisted at his sides as he just wishes his magic would wor—

"Hey Mountain," Dewdrop's voice cuts through, cool hand reaching out to rest on his back (when did he hunch over like this, his glamour completely gone, his horns having taken out several more folding chairs

"Hey Mountain," Dewdrop's voice cuts through, cool hand reaching out to rest on his upper back (when had he hunched over like this, his glamour completely gone, his horns having taken out several more folding chairs—). "Hey, big guy, come on, breathe with me," he speaks again, stepping closer.

(Dewdrop's a water ghoul, he doesn't need to breathe, this is so stup—)

"Mountain," Dew says, firmer, digging his nails just barely into Mountain's upper back, catching his attention, "You're freaking out and I need to get you calm, okay?"

They're in one of the practice rooms, Mountain had come in here to work on his glamour, not having to hunch over quite as much because of the space in the room—it comes back to him slowly, as Dew takes several loud deep breaths, exhaling just as loud until the white noise in Mountain's mind dies down.

He feels a bit foolish, being caught while not being at his best, unglamoured in a mess of chairs, but Dew just watches him with a curious look, empathy rolling off of him in waves.

"Sucks how much our magic is dampened here," Dew murmurs, crouching down beside him, his touch cooling, calming, as he brushes his fingertips over a cut across the back of Mountain's hand.

The cut starts knitting itself together slowly and Dew smiles a soft sort of thing as he watches it. "You hide a lot from us," he says, glancing up at Mountain's face. "Why?"

Mountain feels seen in that moment, a sort of strange, crawly feeling settling over his skin—he's not sure it's something he likes.

"Trying to keep my place in the band." Is what comes out of his mouth, "If I don't get my glamour straightened out before our first ritual, they're going to send me back."

The words come out and he's unable to stop them, but as he continues to air his fears out, Dew just looks on, watches him with a gentle sort of look, thumb brushing over the back of his hand where the cut used to be.

"Come and meet the rest of the pack," Dew says when the silence stretches between them afterwards and Mountain's heaving a bit from all he'd said out loud. "Having a pack helps you settle up here, according to Zeph. We've been waiting for you to reach out," he pauses, a look on his face, "But I think this is something that'll need a bit of interference."

Mountain is tired, he should say no, try to figure things out on his own, but instead, he just hangs his head, nods so timidly that he barely moves, but then Dew's squeezing his hand and Mountain wonders if things actually will be okay.

(The pack find him—the two of them, still sitting among a mess of folding chairs in the practice room, the silence in the room soft and comforting, and when Zephyr gently coaxes Mountain into trying his glamour one more time, he does.

When he stands a few moments later, there's no pressure at his temples from his horns being improperly restrained, his tail is hidden away with no affect on his balance—and when Aether comes to stand beside him, he's only three inches taller than the quintessence ghoul.)

#mountain ghoul #my writing #the band ghost fic

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shadowynn · 2 years

Text

| in love and lore | seven |

pairing: ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: some cursing, overarching yandere behavior ( i think that's it )

summary: the daemon king and his seven black generals. names and faces of these eight had changed over the years as each new king was crowned, but their reputation as the most powerful daemons always remained the same. upon hearing the rumors one of the seven led the charge of the nearby battle, you should have stayed close to the encampment. you should have never wandered out on your own. but you did, and your life would never be the same again. good or bad, you would just have to wait to find out.

“There’s no need to be afraid, angel.” His words were a breath against the side of your neck. “You’ve done so much for us, let your king now return the favor.”

wordcount: 9.3k

| six | seven | eight |

a/n: okay, so i won't lie, this chapter was like super nerve racking for me to post. and i think it's because a lot of questions are answered in this one and the thought of them not being satisfying makes me anxious. and i think that's one reason why i struggled with this one, but in the end, i'm, happy with the way it turned out, so i hope you all are too. it certainly ended up longer than expected, nearly doubling in length. oops. as always though, i appreciate and adore all your feedback, love and support! :)

May I come in?

You were startled by the abruptness of the voice inside your head, the panic you had finally began to quell coming back in full force. The fact he was here and speaking to you not only serving as a swift reminder of what had happened earlier in the night but of everything that was still to come. Of the answers they had all but promised you at this point.

Can you give me a verbal response, angel? As much as I may wish I could at times, I can't exactly read your mind; only the thoughts you outwardly project. And even then, only those from a close distance.

You mulled over your answer, wondering just what it was you wanted. You had come back to camp willingly enough with Jongho when he had promised answers upon your return, but you kept seeing Hayoon's face as she was left to bleed out every time you closed your eyes, followed by the blood that had slowly dripped from Hongjoong's hand. And then way her father had looked you. The guilt he had thrown at you as he ordered you to help, pinning all the blame on you. As though you had been the one to slice her throat and not the daemon grinning gleefully before him.

And was he right? Was it really your fault? After all, you could have saved her. You could have prevented her death if you had just moved.

"Just... just give me a second," your voice was soft, a mumble against the skin of your legs, "...please."

You had been so angry earlier. Your emotions wild and out of control by what they had done. So much so, you had wanted answers then and there, determined to know your role in all this. But now that you were here, you didn't know what it was you wanted. Not anymore.

You didn't want to talk with Hongjoong anymore, not really. Not after the scene you had witnessed earlier. You were no stranger to death. You had seen more death in your twenty years than anyone your age should have ever seen, but this was different. This wasn't just another meaningless death in the war. This wasn't a battle kill. This wasn't a soldier killing another because it was kill or be killed. This was someone killing purely for the sake of the act. Hayoon might have overstepped her boundaries when she had began speaking so brazenly to Hongjoong, but had that truly warranted her death?

All her crimes had been against you. It had been you she had insulted and you that she had threatened to expose and kill. And though Jongho had claimed she had still broken their laws when she had threatened your life, was it still justified when she hadn't known?

She had died because of you. Forced to bleed out because of you. And you hadn't done a single thing to prevent it. Not one single thing.

Perhaps this was why her death clung to your skin, because despite it all, you knew her father was justified in his guilt. Hayoon's death was on your hands just as much as theirs and no matter how hard you had scrubbed at them, the blood wouldn't come off. Your hands had been forever stained.

You wanted answers. You needed answers. You needed to know why they kept slaughtering people in your name. You needed to know what they had done to you and what they planned on doing with you. But the uncertainty of it all terrified you. What if Hayoon had spoken the truth? What if the truth was everything you feared? That this was all just one big game to them and you were just another means to an end. That you were nothing more than a pawn used to get the humans and now that your use was gone, you and your siblings would be executed like all the other half-daemons.

Or what if it was something else? Something worse than death. Something that prolonged your use to them.

You let out another sigh, pulling your legs in closer as a shiver coursed through your body. All you asked and yearned for the past few days had been answers to the questions running through your mind, but now that they were just within reach, you were hesitant. Terrified of what those answers would be and terrified of what was to come once you had finally gotten them.

And if the unknown didn't scare you enough, the path to it did. It had been easy to be frustrated with Hongjoong before, but now that you had met him, you wondered how you had ever dared to utter any of these frustrations out loud. You had known who he was all along, even without any outward confirmation, but nothing could have prepared you for what the daemon king was truly like. Even if he hadn't killed Hayoon in front of you, the short exchange you had with him beforehand had been nerve racking enough. His aura was large enough to fill the entire room, the raw power and strength exuding from it had left you feeling so small and insignificant inside it. And now that man was requesting to meet with you and you alone.

Alone with the daemon king.

If you had told yourself where you would be two years ago, you would have laughed. To think someone of your status would be requested to meet with the king of daemons wasn't just ludicrous, it was near impossible to believe. You had heard the rumors of what this man was like your entire life. Of course you had wondered what he was like before and wondered how he would compare to his father before. You had wondered, just like everyone else had wondered about a man of myth and legend, but you had never expected to actually meet him face to face. You hadn't wanted to ever meet him.

But here you were. In the middle of the daemon's encampment with the daemon king asking to come speak with you. Even with the direction your life had recently taken the past few weeks, it still felt strange. It felt surreal, and left you half-believing that this really had all been some sort of hazy, fever dream. That at any moment now you would finally wake up.

You wished you would wake up. Wished that it was nothing more than a dream. That it was just a nightmare and any second you would wake up. That you would find yourself back in your shared bed with Soomin and laugh about it once you had calmed yourself down.

But this wasn't a dream and you wouldn't be waking up any time soon. This was real. And you had no choice but to accept the fate you had taken when you had stumbled upon your first injured daemon so long ago. The moment you had chosen to save him, you fate had been sealed. The Black Angel had been born and you had no choice but to accept the consequences of your actions.

Take your time, angel. I'll be waiting for you outside.

His response brought you back to reality and you briefly wondered how long you could make him wait before he grew too impatient with you. It was a futile thought, though. What good would prolonging this meeting do for you? You couldn't live like this anymore. The uncertainty of your life and what was to become of you was driving you crazy. You needed answers and this was the only way you would be getting them. If it ended up being the death of you, then so be it. At least you wouldn't have to keep living with the unknown hanging off the back of your neck.

Knowing what you needed to do and doing it were two completely different stories though, and you fought the urge to slink further into the water of the tub. You could mope all you wanted, fight all you wanted, but there was no changing what was to come. As terrifying as it all may be, you would just have to get it over with. Otherwise who knows what lengths they would go to next.

You still waited to leave the tub until the water grew too cold to stand any longer and were careful to keep your gaze away from your body as you got out and dressed. You didn't think he would dare to abuse his power in such a way, especially if he checked in with you before coming inside, but you didn't want to chance it and were grateful your eyes had been closed when he had first spoken to you. If he had been spying on you in the last few minutes, all he would have seen and heard was the back of your eyelids and the shaky exhales of your breath.

There was some relief in knowing he couldn't read your thoughts, though his vague explanation had confused you. What had he meant when he had said he was only able to read the thoughts you outwardly projected? How did you project a thought and had you been doing it unknowingly all this time? Was this they reason why he and the others had heard certain phrases you had said in your head? Was this what Wooyoung had meant when he had said they wouldn't willingly read them? That they had no choice in the matter when you kept projecting them all along?

The thought caused another sigh to fall from your lips, fully knowing this was just another unknown that was to be added to your growing list.

You took your time making yourself presentable, pulling on the spare set of clothes laid out for you and running Hyunwoo's comb through your damp hair. It was a stark contrast from the way you had looked when you first met him, but you felt more at ease with the plain, baggy clothes. This was the real you. A poor, simple half-daemon with just a few items to her name. Not the girl he had seen at the ball, dressed in an outfit worth far more than she was herself. That was a lifestyle you would never obtain. Not because you would never be able to afford it, but rather society would never come to accept it.

Once you were dressed and ready, you were unsure of what to do next, fighting the part of you that yearned to slip inside the bed next to you and pretend as though you had fallen asleep. Was he still listening to you? Did you just have to speak out loud once more and he would hear you? Or did he expect you to reach out to him in person? He had said he would wait for you outside the tent, so had that been a hint for you to go outside and meet with him there?

You knew you were overthinking the matter, but your anxiety over the impending conversation clouded your brain and made it near impossible to come to a decision. You could feel his presence on the other side of the fabric that separated you, the intensity of it adding to the nerves coursing through you. You didn't want to go out there. You didn't want to see him again, but what choice did you have? You needed answers and you wouldn't run now that they were finally being offered. No, you would brave the explanations they would give you, if only for your own sanity, and then you would decide whether running away was a valid plan or not.

Your hands shook as you approached the entrance, the fabric of the tent nearly slipping through your fingers when you pulled it to the side to peer outside. Just as you expected, Hongjoong sat at the table next to Jongho. He had changed into something more casual, hair loose and wet from his own bath, and though the crown was long gone, he still appeared every bit the king he had been at the ball.

The two had been conversing quietly with each other, but their conversation fell to a close when they heard your approach. Both sets of eyes were quick to lock onto your figure and despite the easy smile each sent your way, you had to fight the part of you that yearned to disappear back inside the tent.

"Why don't you retire for the rest of the night?" Hongjoong spoke to Jongho first, motioning with his head for him to leave the two of you alone for the time being. "I'll cover the rest of your watch."

"Of course," Jongho replied, bowing his head. He rose from his seat without question, making his way over to you and ushering a soft, "Goodnight, angel," before giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze and one last timid smile.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

His stance was relaxed as he stood up, and he appeared much calmer than he had been when you had first met him earlier. He had seemed so angry with Hayoon and the others then, angry enough to kill though none of it made any sense. And yet, he presented as nearly a different person this time around. Simply smiling at you as though your earlier interaction had never occurred.

You simply shook your head, finding it hard to find your voice in his presence once more. There was so much you wanted to ask, so much that you wanted to say, but you found it difficult to put your thoughts together well enough to form a coherent question with the way his golden eyes took you in at this moment.

"Why don't we head inside, then?" He motioned for you to step back inside, hand landing at the base of your back to guide you when it took a second to process what he had just said. "It will be warmer in there than it is out here."

You let him guide you back inside with little fight, acutely aware of the fact you were now completely alone with him. He directed you to the small table and chairs set up to the left, pulling out one of the chairs for you to sit before taking the other.

"I know a lot has happened to you in the past few weeks," he began once the two of you had seated and you had a hard time fighting back the scoff his words brought. A lot? That was an understatement. Your entire life had been turned inside out since you had first met Seonghwa so many weeks ago. "And I know you have several questions you wish to ask me," he continued, ignoring the negative reaction his words had pulled from you, "but before I answer those, I feel it best to ask you something first. How familiar are you with the way daemons' politics work?"

His question caught you off guard, brow furrowing as you tried to figure out what politics had to do with your current situation. "About as much as you would expect," you attempted to keep your voice even, briefly wondering if you should address him in any specific way. "There's you, the daemon king and the seven generals who carry out his orders. Beyond that, I'm not too sure. Your kind has never been very open with sharing your ways of life."

"That is the base of things, yes," he replied, and though you saw the way his brow twitched at the connotation your tone had held, he didn't push you on it. "The golden crown has been sacred to my bloodline for many generations now, passed down to the next male heir whenever the current ruler dies. And each time the next king is born, seven other daemons are also born amongst our ranks, each with a different daemon ability unique to the sacred Black Order. These daemons are what your humans refer to as the Seven, and are born with the sole purpose of serving the king as his personal guard."

You had a hard time not interrupting him as he spoke, feeling as though he had just repeated everything you had just said. You already knew all of this, and even the few minute details you hadn't, you hadn't cared to learn about. Not when this had nothing to do with you. Not when it did nothing to explain why you had been marked with his sigil or why they seemed to have such a hard time letting you go.

"Now, all daemons possess some of the old magic in their blood, a substance we often refer to as maetha, but only those of the royal bloodline or those born to serve in the Black Order possess a unique ability in addition to what every daemon is capable of."

"But that doesn't make any sense," you spoke up before you could stop yourself. You knew the majority of daemons didn't have a unique ability of their own as you and Hyunwoo were the only two half-daemons you knew who possessed one, but you had always assumed it was just because half-daemons didn't carry enough of magic in their blood to present one and it was only who your father was that allowed you and Hyunwoo to have one. "My blood's healing capabilities. Hyunwoo's affinity with metals. Why-"

"Because of who your father was." Hongjoong interrupted, and his answer took you by surprise. Not because he seemed to know exactly who your father was, the color of your blood had long been a testament to that, but rather that your assumptions on the matter had been right. "You and your siblings are obviously the children of Minsu, one of the generals from my father's guard and the one who served as an ambassador between us. The color of your blood is all but proof of it."

"I'm well aware of who my father was."

No one would ever speak the truth to you or your siblings, but you had always known exactly who he had been. How could you not when your blood was as black as the horns on each of the generals' heads? You had never come to terms with how exactly you felt about the matter, finding it easy to push it to the side when it was a subject kept under wraps. After all, you had never even known the man, as his death had come just mere weeks after you and Hyunwoo had been born.

But you knew the legends and the rumors. The humans might have never outright spoken about your tie to him, but you had heard the stories and rumors they whispered about. Of how he had gone crazy and killed one of the councilman's youngest daughters in a fit of rage. Of how they had no choice but to take revenge for what he had done, even if his death would trigger an entire war.

Everything you had heard about the man said how terrible he was. Of how ruthless he had been. The perfect picture of what one of the Seven were rumored to be like. He had killed your mother for god's sake and would have killed you and others if the humans hadn't have stopped him.

But you also knew the stories Soomin had told you. She had been ten when everything had gone down, and though her memories of these years became hazy in the aftermath, she still held snippets of memories from a life before. Their deaths had hit her the hardest, and yet she refused to speak of it, not wanting to burden you and Hyunwoo with the pain she now carried from it. But she had spoken snippets here and there, ever questioning the event in her mind. Your father couldn't have done it. Not when he had seemed to care for each of you. Not when he had seemed to care so much for your mother.

"Then you may be interested in knowing how uncommon that is because the Black Guard is prohibited from having children."

The statement caught you off guard, pulling you from the memories of your father. You hadn't know that. Hadn't known that on top of the taboo of your mixed blood, you were also an illegal child. Hadn't known you were someone who should have never been born. No wonder the daemon soldiers had given you so many strange looks when they saw your blood. It hadn't been because of your ability to heal with it or that you were a half-daemon, but rather just the color itself. They had known what it meant. They had known you were someone who should have never been born.

"So, you are going to kill me then." Your voice shook as you spoke, the realization of what his words meant bringing to life the worst of your fears. If they weren't going to have you killed for being a half-daemon, they would kill you for being a half-daemon with black blood. Both you and your siblings.

"No, we're not going to kill you." He was quick to rebuke your statement, shaking his head and softening his expression once he saw the fear that filled your eyes. "Your birth may be considered illegal by daemon rule, but you are so much more important than you realize, angel. Important enough to make me more than willing to make an exception to the rule. After all, killing you would be akin to killing-" He paused, the look he gave you in that moment impossible to read. "Ah, but I'm afraid I've begun to get ahead of myself. Do you know why the Black Guard are prohibited from having children?"

You shook your head, relieved at hearing your death was not in the foreseeable future - at least for now - but nervous at the implication he had made when he had been about to explain the reason why. Did that mean they did have a further use of you? A use that trumped the fact you should have never existed in the first place.

"My family did not always rule the daemons. Before we sailed to this land nearly a millennia ago, we were nothing more than just another faction in a world divided by madness. I was not alive at the time, but I'm told Dalnim was a very different place than the land inhabited by the humans here in the place we have come to call Haemosu. The magic was stronger there, where every living being contained maetha. Even the earth, herself, is said to hold traces of it. But as beautiful as it was, the power it blessed us with was also a curse. Civil unrest plagued the inhabitants, each one desperate for the power others held. Wars were constant, each family desperate for more.

"My family yearned for a new life away from the chaos of the old world, so they, along with any other daemons who were willing to go with, left and sailed north to start anew. And to prevent the destruction and chaos that had plagued them before, a spell was put into place, preventing anyone outside the golden bloodline and those born to protect it from being born with any abilities outside the basics maetha allows us all."

"So, that's why the Seven are prevented from having children? Because they can produce more people like Hyunwoo and I? And you're afraid of anyone else who might hold a little power in case they decide to overthrow you?"

"I will agree the morality of the spell is ambiguous at best," he replied, noticing the sarcasm in your tone. "But over the millennia it has been in place, the daemons have lived in relative peace. They've thrived in harmony amongst each other without fear of what's to come. Each of them more than willing to sacrifice a little power at the chance of a peaceful life."

"Hmph, I wonder what that's like." Your arms crossed, scowling at the hypocrisy of his words. All you had ever known was a war divided in war. You had grown up under the very same circumstance he had stated the daemons came here to escape and it was all because of them.

"May I remind you that it was your humans who started this war. Not us." Hongjoong's voice was lined with thin agitation, brow twitching once more at your words. "And it was your humans that were so insistent on continuing it after my father died."

"What are you talking about?"

"Forget I said anything. It doesn't matter. Not anymore." He shook his head with a sigh, and you were surprised to see the way his eyes had appeared sunken for just a moment. As though he was remembering something he had come to regret. "If we were to talk about the logistics of this war, we would be here all night. And I believe there are other topics that would interest you more, am I correct?"

Your lips twisted as you mulled over what he had just said, his reaction to it all the more compelling. He was right in his assumption you were more interested in your own fate at the moment, but his statements towards the war had caught your attention as a direct contradiction to what you had believed to happen thus far. The humans had said the daemons had no wish for peace after their king had died, but Hongjoong had hinted towards a different story. One where the humans were the ones denying peace. And the reaction it had pulled from him all but proving something more had went down than what either had told you.

"As I was saying earlier," he began, taking the time you had mulled over his previous question as an excuse to continue, "the spell written back then was not as flawless as first expected. While it did almost completely prevent any future abilities from appearing in daemons outside the royal family with the exception of the Seven, it failed to prevent abilities from appearing in the male born children of the Black Guard, a problem only discovered decades after the spell had been written. There was talk of rewriting the spell, but the power and time it would have taken ultimately made them decide against it, using the loophole as an excuse to keep the Guard's sole focus on protecting and serving their king."

"Wait, you said only the male born children, right? But what about me? Doesn't that mean I should be like my sister? That I shouldn't have an ability?"

His mention in the flaw had been quick, but you had caught on to it with ease, seeing it as just another flaw in your own existence. As though you hadn't already been told your life was one giant mistake, it seemed Hongjoong wasn't done yet and swiftly delivered another blow towards you. Was there anything about you that was normal? That was supposed to exist and be for a reason? Or were you really just one giant mistake? A flaw in the system.

"Not necessarily. The spell has waned over the centuries and a few daemons with unique abilities have popped up every hundred years or so, but-"

"So," you interrupted, too frustrated by what he had explained to you thus far to notice he hadn't even remotely began to answer any of the questions related to what you were doing here now, "you're telling me, that not only am I a half-daemon, but the half-daemon child of someone who wasn't even supposed to have children in the first place, and now I'm some anomaly in a spell? Is there anything else I should know about myself?"

"I understand the circumstances of your birth may seem a bit... odd, but that doesn't change the fact your life still holds a purpose. You're not a mistake, angel. You're not someone who just slipped through the cracks of an ancient spell. There are a few others who the spell allows to be born with an unique ability. You are one of those people. In fact, you are someone I've waited a very long time for."

His hand reached across the table in an attempt to calm your fidgeting ones, but his fingers only briefly brushed against the tops of your hands before you pulled them back. His face was soft, too soft, gazing at you with genuine sincerity. As though he truly believed what he was saying to you. And the moment you pulled back from him, he almost seemed hurt.

"You're not making any sense. There's nothing special about me." You pulled your hands close to your chest, eyeing him closely from across the table. Why was he being so nice to you? Why did he seem to care so much for you? "I'm just..." Just what? A mutt? A halfbreed? An abomination? All of the above? "You said it yourself. I should have never even been born."

"Perhaps your birth was forbidden on multiple accounts, but that doesn't change the fact you were still born. Or that the maetha that flows through each of our veins chose you. Out of the millions of daemons tied to it, it chose you. You are so much more than the mutt everyone has made you believe you are."

"Chosen? Chosen for what?"

You shook your head, not quite grasping what he was trying to say. Or why he had gone such a roundabout way to try and explain everything. All it had served to do was create more questions than answers and make you feel worse about yourself than you had before. it didn't tell you anything you had wanted to know. It didn't tell you why he or the others seemed to have such a keen interest in you or why Seonghwa had attacked you that night and branded you with the sigil of their king.

"The abilities of the golden bloodline are passed down from generation to generation, with each new heir inheriting the abilities of both his parents, securing a stronger heir with each new generation. When I was born, I gained all the abilities passed down through my father's bloodline and then the one my mother possessed."

"Well, I'm sure that's quite nice for you getting to be all powerful and all, but what does this have to do with me? What does any of this have to do with me?"

"Fucking hell." Hongjoong let out a string of curses at your sarcasm once more. They were nothing more than a breath, but you could still make out the first few as he leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair, either exasperated by your statement or the fact you had still not gotten it. But if it was supposed to be obvious, it wasn't. At least not to you.

"The only daemons born with an ability is the next heir to the throne, the members of the Black Guard, and any other male heirs born to these eight men. However, you might recall I said I inherited the ability of both my parents, including my mother. And while it is true a few anomalies have been popping up, the mate of the daemon king will always be born with an ability."

"What are you saying?"

You could feel the blood draining from your face. The implication he made was clear, but it was so incredulous, you refused to believe what he was trying to imply. You had to have read into his wording wrong. He must have been hinting at something else. He had to have been hinting at something else.

"You're her, angel. The woman I've waited just over a century for. You're my mate."

You laughed.

You couldn't help it. It was just so ridiculous, the laughter had bubbled up before you could stop it, sure that this was all some big joke.

"What the hell are you talking about?" You choked out, but your laughter began to trickle away when you glanced back up at him and saw that damned sincerity in his eyes once more. He sure didn't look like he was joking. In fact, he almost looked offended you hadn't believed him. As though the fact you found it absolutely insane and proceeded to laugh in his face had hurt. Either that, or he was just one hell of an actor. "I don't know what you're going on about, but that was a joke, right? You're not actually serious?"

What did he even mean by mate, anyway? You knew daemon relationships worked differently than humans, rejecting the traditional marriage seen by humans, and referring to their significant other as their mate. But that didn't explain why he was calling you that now. You weren't his mate. You didn't even know him.

"Why would I joke about something like this?" He leaned forward, the intensity of his gaze making you squirm in your seat. You were sure he was joking. He had to have been joking, but the way he was looking at you made you begin to think otherwise.

"Other than the fact that it's absolutely crazy?" You couldn't stop the panic that began to bubble inside you. "Or the fact that I have no idea what you're even talking about? Mate? What the hell does that even mean?"

"Every daemon has a mate, someone designed and molded by the maetha to be a perfect fit to them. And in order to guide the two to each other, they're shown visions of each other-"

"Well, then that just proves you're lying." Your arms crossed. "I've never had a vision of you before. Or anyone else for that matter."

"A flaw on your human side, I'm afraid." He continued without skipping a beat and you began to wonder just what lengths he would go to convince you otherwise. How long he had been setting this up to come up with an answer for each question you threw his way. Of how much effort he put into a ploy that only served to see you hurt. "Half-daemons have mates just like daemons, but the way their human blood reacts with the maetha dilutes it, preventing the visions from ever occurring. At least, that's our best working theory at the present moment."

"Is there nothing about this that doesn't sound absolutely insane to you, or is it just me?" Your fingers dug into your arms, trying hard to control the panic his words stirred up inside you. It was insane. All of it was absolutely, fucking insane. "You're the king of daemons and I'm what? A mutt. Just a fucking mutt. And sure, I have an ability, but people slip through the cracks. You said so yourself. That doesn't mean I'm your mate. And to try and convince me otherwise is just cruel."

"I know how crazy this may seem for you, but I assure you it is all true. I'm not trying to convince you of something that isn't true. I've been seeing pieces of your life ever since you were born, after all." He reached across the table, grabbing your fidgeting hands in an attempt to calm your movements and prevent you from hurting yourself. "Every year on your birthday, I'm able to see, hear, and feel everything you do for just a moment. It's similar to how one of my own abilities work, but I don't get to choose when it happens or reach out to you in any way. I simply get to experience your life as you do for a few brief moments."

"I don't believe you." You shook your head, still incredulous to it all. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.

"On your eighteenth birthday, you and your brother snuck out of the city to catch a glimpse of Sesang's comet. You laid out on a blanket in a nearby field, staring up at the sky and talking for hours. It was the middle of winter, so it was freezing, but you didn't care. You talked about running away, leaving the humans behind and starting a new life away from it all, but it was nothing more than a wishful fantasy. Where would you go with the war going on?

"And then your eighth birthday was the first year you had gotten a cake. Your sister had saved up enough money to buy the ingredients for one. She had even managed to get candles for you to blow out and make a wish. Your brother had stated his wish was to be able to have cake everyday for the rest of his life, but you had remained silent when asked about yours, stating it wouldn't come true if you said it and you really wanted it to come true. Ever since then, I've always wondered what your wish could have been and if it ever came true for you."

Your face grew hot as he spoke, fully aware everything he was saying was true. You had snuck out of the city with Hyunwoo on your eighteenth birthday, as the lights and walls of the city had blocked your view. Soomin had been frantic when the two of you had returned in the middle of the night, nearly frozen to death but giggling like fools. She had berated the two of you for what felt like an eternity for doing something so stupid.

And then your eighth birthday was the first time you had gotten cake. There had only been enough for one, but you hadn't minded sharing with Hyunwoo because the two of you were so close and shared everything anyways. You had felt so silly when you had made your wish and blown out the candles on your side, but even now, almost thirteen years later, you still held on to that wish and hoped it would continue to hold true. That you would always have your family by your side.

"I'm not saying I believe you," you found it impossible to look him in the face now, body growing hot as the realization he could actually be telling the truth sunk in, "but if you really are telling the truth, then why didn't you just take me that first night? If you knew it was me, why did you just have Seonghwa put this stupid mark on my chest and send me on my way?"

"Because I knew how badly you would have reacted. Look how hard this is on you now. How do you think you would have reacted if I had Seonghwa bring you back to our base that night and explained everything there?"

You had to admit he did make a valid point. If he really was speaking the truth and you were his - god, you couldn't even say it in your head - stealing you away then would have made you livid. But it didn't make up for the way they had still treated you instead. The way they had stolen you from your home and family still made you angry. The ploy might have not been as terrible in his mind as the first, but it was just as cruel to you. You had gone through so much in these past few weeks, unsure of what their true motives were and what was to become of you. It made you almost wish they would have just taken you that first night instead. The stress of it all had nearly eaten you alive. It had nearly torn you apart. And for what? For them to come out and say it had all been because you were supposed to be the mate of the daemon king and they wanted your ability to pass down to the next heir?

"There's something else I still need to explain to you," he continued after a few moments of silence and you did look up at him in that moment. The realization he had more to tell you made your heart skip a beat. What more did he have to say? Could it possibly get any worse than it already was?

"My mother's ability is a strange one, allowing bonds to be created between different individuals. By consuming one's blood, I can create a bond between myself and another that will tie us together. In a sense, it allows a part of myself to be imparted upon each person I mark, allowing me to share my strength with them and vice versa. Each of my generals hold such a mark, strengthening each of us through it. And when I realized it was you who was the Black Angel that night with Seonghwa, I marked you through him. The mark on your chest is a physical sign of the bond that now ties you to each of us and why you were most likely left with the feeling as though a part of you was missing. In some ways, it was, as pieces of yourself transferred to each of us as the bond took hold.

"I didn't want to mark you in such a way. Not without you having any prior knowledge on the matter, but I had little choice. I wasn't expecting you to be there that night. I wasn't expecting to see you until we breached Maehwa, but then you appeared. And though I always suspected it might be you who was the Black Angel, it was still a shock to see it was true. To know it had been you who had saved all those lives." He paused, hands tightening their grip on your own. "I knew how much danger you would be in if the humans ever found out what you had done, and I couldn't just have Seonghwa take you back no matter how much both of us wanted that, so I did the only thing I knew to secure your safety for the time being."

"You could have been wrong though. You could have marked the wrong person."

"No," he shook his head, the hint of a smile appearing as he took you in. "It was you. We both could feel it. The moment you walked into that room, we knew. Your voice, your mannerisms, your aura. It was all you, the woman we've waited so long for."

"We? What do you mean we?"

"When I marked the others, I never expected the bond between us to be as strong as it was. It brought us together in a way that no other king and his guard had been before. We were stronger, faster, more united than my father or his father before. A part of myself now lives within each of them, just as a part of them lives within me. And the tie that connects me to you, also now connects you to them. Because you are my mate, you are now also theirs."

Your eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

If you weren't so certain he hadn't been lying about the first part anymore, you would have never believed him now. You would have laughed at him again. But just as before, his face held no trace of a lie. It was just as sincere as before. Full of a longing that would have had you wanting to move in closer if you weren't so shocked by what he was telling you in that moment.

"Even before they were officially my guard, I had always been so close with them. We grew up together, trained together. They're the closest things to brothers I'll ever have, so when I was instated as the new king and they officially became my guard, the bond that snapped into place felt natural. It heightened everything we already knew and felt, bringing us closer together than we had been before. When each of them saw the next vision I had of you on your eighteenth birthday, we knew immediately what it had meant. That they were now tied to you just as I was and who was I to neglect them of that bond? The very one I had given to them?"

"But," you struggled to speak, fighting the rush of emotions that had sprung up, "but you said every daemon has a mate, so I couldn't be theirs too, could I? Not when they-"

"You'll remember I said previously that the members of the Black Guard are not allowed families of their own, because of this, they are the only daemons who do not have a mate when they're born. The ancient spell which gives them their ability and rank also prevents a mate from being bound to them."

It made sense. In it's own twisted way, it did. And it explained so many of the interactions you had with each of them. It explained the way Seonghwa had reacted that first night when he saw you, the way Jongho was always so bashful around you, and it even explained the conversation you had had with Yeosang before you had known he was a daemon. Of how he had said a partner was something he had never thought could be his and the implication that it could come true now because someone like you had told him it could.

You could feel your face growing hotter with each passing moment, suddenly seeing every little interaction with each of them in a new light. They had known. All along they had known exactly who you were. It was why they always seemed to fawn over your attention, squeezing their way in to catch a moment of your time. And it was why they all acted so aggressively whenever you were insulted and threatened, and explained the hungry glint in each of their eyes when they had observed you in that golden dress earlier that night.

Your eyes flickered over to where it still laid draped across one of the privacy screens, shivering as you saw the meaning behind it in a new light. You had been so sure they had put you in it for the exact reason Hayoon had said. As nothing more than a way to mock the humans, but that hadn't been it at all. Perhaps, a part of it might have been a way to get back at them for all they had done to you, but it had really been nothing more than a way for them to show the humans exactly who you were there with. All but claiming you as your own.

"Let me get this clear. You're telling me that I am not only supposedly your mate, but I am also now the mate of each of your seven generals? Like, all of them?" You drew your hands out from under his, his touch hot and heavy against yours. "And I'm what? Just supposed to accept all of this? I'm just supposed to be okay with all of this?"

"I know this is a lot to take in, y/n, but-" He attempted to calm you down, but you couldn't even look at him in that moment, feeling more vulnerable before him than you ever had before. Never in your life had you felt as bare and exposed as you did now.

"A lot? A lot is a fucking understatement." Your voice was rising, and you clambered to your feet, nearly knocking your chair over in your haste. "My whole life I've been told I'm nothing and that I'll amount to nothing, and now you're here telling me I'm supposed to be your mate. The fucking daemon king's mate. It's..."

It was what? Cruel? Degrading? To know that they only reason they had ever shown you an ounce of kindness was because you were supposed to be their mate? And what if you hadn't been? What would have happened then? Would you have had a knife to your throat instead? Because you served no other purpose towards them?

"You all keep going on and on about you had no choice in the matter. That you had no choice but to mark me with this stupid, fucking bond, and no choice but to kill Hayoon or that other lady. But you're wrong. You," somewhere inside you, you found the strength to look up at him once more, eyes narrowing as you met his gaze, "you have no idea what it's really like to not have a choice."

God, the temperature in the room seemed to have increased steadily in the past few minutes, leaving the air stifling and making it harder to breathe with each intake of air. It was starting to make you lightheaded, and you swayed on your feet. You needed to get out. You needed air.

"Angel-" His hand caught yours as you went to move away and the way he looked down at you nearly made your heart stop.

"I... I can't do this anymore." It was a struggle to speak as time went on, chest tightening with each passing moment. You couldn't stay here for much longer. Not with him. Not with any of them. You needed space to think, to breathe, to calm yourself down. You couldn't do that with him here. Not when he was the source of the panic currently consuming you. "I need space. I need to think."

You didn't wait to be given permission and pulled yourself from his grip. He let you slip away with little ease, making no attempt to try and stop you as you dashed to the entrance of the tent.

"y/n, please believe me when I say that none of this was meant to hurt you. The last thing any of us want to do is hurt you."

Would he be saying that to you if you hadn't been his mate? Would he have shown you, someone who's existence his kind had hated for centuries, would he have shown you kindness if you hadn't been his mate?

"You'll have to forgive me when I say I don't believe you," your voice was soft as you paused at the exit, hand tightening its grip on the fabric of the tent as you processed his words, "as it certainly hasn't felt that way on my end. My life has been nothing but confusion and misery since I met you."

You didn't have to look at him to know the impact your words had on him, cutting deep. And though you felt no regret in saying them, it still made you pause for a second longer, wondering if this was the right way to leave things. Wondering if you should explain just why his words had cut you the way they had.

But how could you? How could you stop and explain when you weren't even fully aware of the answer yourself? And what little you did understand only made you all the more anxious to openly admit out loud. Because what if you were right? And the way you had been treated was solely reliant on the bond between you. And that you would have been tossed aside like all the others long before if you hadn't.

No, you couldn't. You wouldn't. Not now. Not after everything he had done. Not after everything they had all done. You had suffered enough as it was. You didn't need to suffer any more by putting yourself out there more than you were already.

You forced yourself to move, throwing back the flap to the tent and forcing your legs to move beneath you before he had a chance to change his mind and force you to stay. You didn't know where you were going, nor did you really care. You just needed a place away from him> Away from all of them. A place where you could be alone and breathe. A place where you could process the overload of information he had dumped on you without him and the others breathing down your neck.

To your relief, the others weren't around when you exited. After everything you had just been told, you didn't want to face them. The mere thought of seeing them now that you finally understood what was going on only made your stomach churn. You didn't know how you would be able to face them after tonight, and wondered if it would have been better to continue living in ignorance. If the uncertainty of what was to come was better than this.

You took off through the camp, ignoring the daemons still milling around and doing your best to control your breathing. Your hands still shook and your chest was tight, but you felt as though it was a bit easier to breathe out here.

And though the idea of running did strike you in that moment, you had no real intention of following through with it. Could you even run away when Hongjoong had the power to bring you right back to him with little to no effort on his part? And even if he somehow couldn't? Where would you go? Nearly every city had either been destroyed or overtaken by the daemons, and Maehwa was out of the question after the events that had transpired earlier in the night. The humans would never let you stay with them. Not after you had inadvertently caused the death of one of the councilman's daughters.

No, you just needed to get far enough away to where you couldn't feel their presence any longer. You needed far enough away to where you could feel like you were by yourself. But the moment you made it to the edge of the tents, you were stopped in your tracks. Not by one of the daemon guards, but a force that you couldn't even see.

There was nothing in front of you, nothing visible that you could see, but you could feel it. An invisible barrier blocking your path and preventing you from escaping any further. You could feel it thrumming in front of you as you cautiously brushed up against it, solid beneath your fingertips.

You knew this was your doing, remembering all too well the way the humans' fists had bounced off something similar earlier in the night. Except this time it wasn't in place to keep the humans in, but you.

You laughed.

Nothing about this was remotely funny to you, but the realization you were trapped inn here with them was the tipping point of it all, seeing once again your choice being taken away from you. A pitiful reminder that you were little more than a prisoner here with them.

It didn't take long for the laughter to transform into tears, shoulders shaking at the sobs that began to rack your body, finally releasing the swell of emotions you had held up inside you for so long. Every fear, every frustration, every worry, came rushing out of you in that moment and you collapsed against the nearby tree, body curling in on itself once more as the weight of the situation came crashing down on you.

You had thought your fate had been sealed the moment you had become the Black Angel, but you were wrong. Your fate had been sealed the moment you had taken your first breath and destiny decided to tie you to that man and nothing you said or did would change it.

@layzfeelit @calirix @seonghwarizon @yunho0o0o0o @blglmgk01 @marievllr-abg @ddeonghwva @rosie-hao @malyxsoulpersonal @kirooz @violetpenguinkris @woosmaid @eggyomelet @wooya1224 @mulanateez @kimi-kiwi @eastleighsblog @baguette-atiny @yourleftsock @dear-dreamie @uriruwi @purplelady85 @camzpetite @peachesandcream-9 @beautysirens @peachy-yabbay @seonghwaholic @honeyedtalisman @nichobins @fl0r4f4wn @avantalem @seojonneh @is4b3ll3s @ahhhhhhhhhghh @slutforheeseung @hyunjiminssi @knucklesdeepmingi @mrcarrots @wxnderingthoughts @moni-cah @hazel42 @blaaiissee @anushka-k @peppermint-tea-life @all-black-darling @not-everything-is-so-primitive @naiify @sophxom @kuleo26 @doublebunv @halotopicecream @shakalakaboomboo @craxy-person @kawaiikels @tito-the-mermaid @wellwwhynot @nikinonikki @freyaniobe

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bidisastersanji · 10 months

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i had thoughts of a canon-adjacent Zoro (nonbeliever ambitious swordsman) and Death-God!Sanji who keep meeting because of how close to dying Zoro always gets during his fights and oops now it's a messy drabble written in between breaks at work and here ya go.

In all his years as the god of Death, Sanji has never seen such a stubborn, strong willed human- he’s honestly half amused every time he's brought to a wounded, bleeding Zoro. He doesn't expect him to survive that giant slash attack from the warlord, nor the myriad of injuries he collects after that- and if he feels a bit of pride every time he escapes him Death, well, no one will know.

It takes him a while to realise that, in those fleeting moments, when he's loitering and waiting around as Zoro approaches the point of no return, Zoro can see him as well. Sanji's a bit mortified at first. All this time, he's just been voicing his thoughts out loud like he always does, who knows what the reckless man overheard! It's pure force of habit, since it’s not like there’s ever someone to hear to him- his family chose this domain for him on purpose after all; they took all the great, bright, good, worshiped domains of life, war, medicine...and left him this one to punish him, break him with eons of witnessing and bearing human grief in solitude.

It's barely morning and Zoro is dripping with blood, resolutely standing against all odds in a beautiful display of absolute devotion and conviction, and Sanji feels like maybe today will be the day he takes him- that this is the end for the stubborn swordsman. He comes closer than he ever has to the man, walks right up to him, readying himself for the weight of another soul's voyage, when Zoro's lidded eyes snap up and meet his own. His fiery gaze doesn’t go straight through him, but actually settles on him. Sees him.

It's unnerving. Sanji shivers at this feeling of being perceived.

Humans usually only see him once they fully passed on, when he’s guiding them, cold hands gripping onto him, begging, crying, frightened or even sometimes full of wrath and fighting to stay by their loved ones.

“It’s you again.” His voice is weak, raspy.

Sanji doesn’t answer.

“Why're you always here for my big battles?” A pause. “You like me or somethin'?”

Confusion. Shock. Embarrassment. “You think I stalk you and show up for you battles!?”

“Sure seems like it.”

Sanji scoffs.

He can’t believe this! He wants to chew the bastard out- who the hell does he think he is? but he bites down on his words, certain that these are the man's final moments. There's no way anyone could survive such wounds- it's a miracle he's even conscious or standing.

He doesn’t want to add insult to injury.

“I’m the god of Death, you idiot.”

Oops.

“I don’t believe in gods.”

The absurdity of that statement when literally in conversation with one doesn’t escape Sanji, but he's not really there to argue.

The green-haired man continues. “So, what, you’re into me or something? Just ask me out like a normal person.”

This cocky asshole...Sanji's heated reply is cut off by Zoro’s nakama arriving on the scene in a panic. Sanji trails after them, hovering, ready for the now unconscious body's heart to stop beating at any moment- but the moment doesn't come.

Under the attention of their talented doctor, Zoro escapes him once again.

Sanji's definitely not relieved.

It's out of curiosity that he stays around a little longer. He returns from time to time to check in on the mysterious man and his recovery, still a bit unbelieving that he managed to survive such grievous, traumatic injuries and intense blood loss. By all means he should've died the instant he made contact with the red, concentrated bubble of pain and stress that Kuma expelled from his captain's body.

His friends weep and berate him when he wakes. The ginger woman who found him screams at him to “stop flirting with death” and Sanji chuckles- she doesn’t know how technically accurate that statement is.

Later, Sanji guiltily looks forward to feeling that tug from Zoro once more, that pull on his power he feels when someone is nearing his domain. He's admittedly curious to learn more about him, this idiot swordsman who can see him, hear him, and yet isn’t at all scared of him. It's so rare for humans to accept him without a hint of fear.

He doesn’t let himself dwell on that tinge of nervousness at the back of his mind- what if the next time is the time he steals him away- from his friends, his dream, his captain? What if this time he doesn’t get back up?

But he does.

And when he lingers in the cold, empty room of Kuragaina castle where the bandaged swordsman is laid to rest, content to stare at his mossy head of hair, Sanji notices something weird. From his bedside seat, he can feel the ghost of body warmth.

He tentatively leans closer, his fingers reach out, expecting to go right through Zoro's arm. They recoil, as if burned by fire, when instead they meet soft flesh.

Huh.

Zoro's eyes blearily crack open, immediately finding his hovering form.

"You're... back."

And Sanji knows something changed, that day, on Thriller Bark. He's been on this earth for a long, long time, and he knows Zoro should be dead. Unequivocally so. And yet he isn't. Whether by the sheer strength of his willpower or his fervent defiance of the gods and the laws of this universe, Zoro is still...present. Alive enough to have warm, red blood flowing through his veins and air filling his lungs. Dead enough to perceive him, touch him, feel him.

War brews and Sanji has a lot of work on his hands. After the carnage, he wearily returns to Kuragaina, and Zoro, sullen, heavy with guilt, asks him if it's true. Asks him if the eye of this particular storm, the man known as Ace, is truly dead.

Death has long worn away at Sanji, a constant wave beating at the his endless empathy his father called a weakness, wearing him down with each soul he takes from this world. But he's never become numb to it. He openly, lovingly feels the sorrow with every loss, with each reaping, with every last breath rasped from trembling lips. He embraces it, cherishes it for all of its bittersweet taste.

So he tells Zoro of Marineford. Of the epic battle that occurred there between Whitebeard and the marines. With each somber word he feels just a little lighter- an unfamiliar, happy feeling blooming in his chest at getting to talk to someone after what feels like a forever of solitude.

Time passes, and Sanji visits him more and more, grateful for the rare company. It'd been so long since he last was able to have a decent conversation with someone. Joke around. Banter. Flirt? They grow closer, never really voicing the...whatever it is that passes between them. Zoro eventually returns to his crew, and Sanji avoids approaching him unless he's alone. Wouldn't want people to think he's seeing things.

It becomes a dance. A well oiled machine. Zoro cutting down the enemies before him, Sanji right behind him and guiding his fallen foes into the afterlife. Cut after cut, his blades sing in the air, accompanied by the groans and cries of the people Sanji welcomes into his waiting arms.

After a big battle Zoro is laying in the rubble, chest heaving from the effort. Sanji sits with him, solemn. Accepting. Enjoying his company, the only company he can keep.

Zoro still hasn't admitted that gods are real, even when he sees Sanji trail after the path his bloodied swords carve out, hard at work. Even when he sees Sanji's dark, draped silhouette raise into the skies, untethered - that’s just skywalk, he says.

Sanji grows fearful. Shaken by the feelings, the attachment he feels for the swordsman, like a tether to this world. It makes him feel more alive than he ever has, yes. But nothing good can ever come of it, and he knows the universe isn't kind enough to give him such happiness without the promise of a subsequent fall, a return to reality soured and made worse by what came before it.

It's a dark, rainy day when Zoro corners him on the Sunny. Sanji hasn't visited him in a couple of days- not much death without opponents around.

They're at the back of the ship, obscured by the mikan trees, and Zoro's hands are bracing him against the wall, locking him in. Sanji knows he could go through the wall, but Zoro's eye has him pinned, frozen where he stands. His arms lay lifelessly by his sides.

The swordsman leans in, cups his chin, and Sanji doesn't think- his eyes flutter shut, he's open and wanting as warm, chapped lips press delicately against his. They don't need words. They know. Can feel it with every tender touch as their bodies work together to deepen the kiss. Sanji loops an arm around Zoro's neck, hand digging into his hair, while the other bunches up the fabric of his kimono to bring him ever closer. He's pressed so tightly against him that he can almost pretend the beating feeling near his chest is his own heart, can almost feel the rushing sound in his ears, the warmth seeping into his skin, up his chest, his neck, cheeks, ears.

Zoro breaks apart for air, and Sanji hears himself mirroring his pants, so enamoured with the swordsman he feels like his breath was stolen away.

"Curls." Zoro's looking at him odd, nearly awestruck, eyes flitting across his face, his body, his hands reach out to take his hands in his, lightly massaging his flesh.

A stern feminine voice rings behind them, snapping their heads to attention.

"Zoro, who the hell is this man you're kissing behind my mikan trees?!"

#zosan #zoro x sanji #i just wanted to write a small text post #and then #aND THEN this #it's not very good i'm sorry #but i kind of really like this concept #of death god sanji #and constantly near death experience Zoro #if i had more time i would love to see them fall in love slowly #maybe explore Zoro's complicated feelings if he lets himself be in dangerous situations just to see the ethereal man in black robes #sanji defnitely haunts his dreams #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan fic idea #zosan drabble #zosan fic #obviously at the end what happens is that just like how Zoro defies the laws of existence #Sanji is tethered back and kind of alive in a way again #or you can interpret it how you like #i like to think that then they die together one day and get to be death gods together maybe #and because Zoro and Sanji got to be known in the human realm #people start worshiping them properly #god of death Sanji

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