#this was a bit inspired by frozen if you can't tell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rottiens · 2 months

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✫ AUGURIO┊ You hear him before you feel him, like the flash of lightning that warns of the arrival of a furious thunderclap. His deep voice breaks the silence and it seems that everything, even the dust particles stop for an instant.

word count. 13K

tags. (18+) — explicit content. maid!reader, reader with female anatomy (she/her), toji calls the reader kid/kiddo several times (sorry, can't stop using it), toji is a gentleman (not really) (he tries to be, I swear), toji canonical story, age gap (reader is 25+, toji is in his mid 30s), cw violence, reader is/was harassed by the Zenin clan, reader has family trauma (ofc), references to Christian religion, slow burn, soft toji, angsty, mutual masturbation, dirty talk.

notes. i love toji but i had never written anything official for him, at least something not so long. i didn't expect to write so much, in fact the first scene i started it with the idea of making a drabble but... oops. i got carried away (i love him sm), i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i did because despite being long i enjoyed writing every scene heh. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✫ title inspired by the song augurio by rosalía. read on ao3.

You hear him before you feel him, like the flash of lightning that warns of the arrival of a furious thunderclap. His deep voice breaks the silence and it seems that everything, even the dust particles stop for an instant.

Your body jerks at being taken by surprise, shivers run down your lower back and stop behind the back of your neck, ruffling the hair in that area. Afraid to turn around you remain static for a long second, thinking that maybe that way he would go away and ignore your presence, though to your misfortune that never happened.

"Are you deaf or something?" he asks reluctantly.

You imagine him scratching the back of his neck as he says that, you wonder if he still has that habit.

"I'm fine," you say dryly, answering that and his previous question which had been 'Do you need help?' — Your hands are still frozen, stretched above your head with the edge of the heavy box barely touching your fingertips, pressing down.

Toji growls and ignoring your clear disinterest in his help, he takes a few short steps forward which send alerts to your head, putting you in a run or fight state. His footsteps are long and firm warning you that someone heavy is coming, and they stop right behind you where you can clearly feel the heat of his body burning through your clothes, the only sign that tells you along with a growl that he really was there and that this was not a figment of your vivid imagination.

Toji stretches his arms above your body taking advantage of his height to grab the box you are struggling so hard to reach and easily pulls it down from the cabinet, dropping it to the floor and the various cursed weapons inside slam against each other.

You don't know what to do or say, but you especially don't know what he wants. After having helped you against your will, in a task you were sure you could have completed alone, Toji adds nothing more. There is no sound, complaint or comment to let you know he is still there.

If it weren't for the warmth of his body you couldn't be sure there was another person next to you in that room. Toji, without his cursed energy to give him away was far worse than a ghost, there was no trace that he existed or ever existed unless you looked him in the face and made sure he was really there.

And after thinking about it and soaking in an awkward silence, you think you guess what he wants from you.

"Hm. Thank you." Though your words bounce off the walls with some degree of insecurity, you think you have pleased him, that he was looking for perhaps a bit of your gratitude, yet he says nothing until after an extended silence.

"Turn around."

You're used to following orders. "Pick that up." "Clean that up." "Shut your mouth." So the command doesn't surprise you; what does, instead, is who the words come from.

Toji Zenin left the clan years ago. Never officially, just one day you woke up and he wasn't there, there was one less dish to put on the table, there were fewer orders to follow and the same thing happened the next day and the next.

No one ever heard from him again, all you knew was from the rumors you heard from your masters. That the man had left the country, that he was now working for the mafia, that they found his body dumped in a dirty alley in Okinawa, so having him here, coming back to order you around as if he returned to the clan after so long fills you with uncertainty.

However you do it, you turn on your heels without making a single noise; credit to the years you have had to learn to be silent and go unnoticed all so as not to disturb and inconvenience the people you serve. You are in front of him and the first thing that strikes you is the sight of his chest, unlike how he used to dress when he lived here he wears a blue striped kimono which makes him look more formal and adult, which however baggy it is, shows how changed his body is now: more mature and bigger.

You raise your head a few inches to find his serious face staring back at you, his longer, somewhat disheveled hair partially covering his gaze and those blue eyes are as expressionless as ever.

You've never seen the scar on his lip so close, the memories of that day make you shudder but you swallow them in your throat like a hard pain pill.

You take the hem of your dress and raise the corners at the same time as you bend your knees in reverence, all this without moving too much because an unplanned movement would lead you straight to touch him.

"Sir. You’re back." You greet him, keeping a neutral tone in your voice. "Welcome home." It's the kindness you're forced to give to every single member of the clan, even if they're defectors who return without explanation. You were no one to ask questions, so you're left only to accept silently.

"I remember you," Toji says, maintaining eye contact. Confused, you frown and allow him to elaborate. "You were that girl."

There have been many girls, sir. That's what you want to say but you bite your tongue. Many of them ran away, many are gone and many were not strong enough to withstand the mistreatment.

"I'm afraid you're wrong..."

"Nah." Toji interrupts you by clicking his tongue, then he reaches out and seeing you squirm at the action, the attempt at a wicked smile peeks out of the corners of his mouth. "Easy there." His words accompany his thumb that lands on top of your eyebrow, caressing a small scar that you normally forget is there. His touch is rough, his skin is calloused, but the way he approaches you doesn't feel violent to you so you allow him to carve the skin some more. "You're that girl..., my cousin threw that crystal glass in your face."

His words trigger wild and violent memories that force you to turn your face away from him, Toji's hand hovering in the air as he slowly returns it to the sides of his legs. It was your first week serving the Zenin clan, you were around fifteen when your family sold you in exchange for your servitude. Painful memories come back to you, you remember how you fought, how you spat curses in front of the Zenin family and the more rebellious you were the worse they treated you, the scar on your eyebrow is just one of many.

You look at him again, unable to contain the rage that injects itself into your veins and ends up in your hands making you clench your fists tightly.

"I had wondered where all that anger had gone." Toji looks you up and down. "I guess it was just asleep."

"I have to take that box to the training room, I've already taken too long," you say, giving the box a sidelong glance.

All that anger you had swallowed until you became the good servant they wanted. That reduced the mistreatment, the yelling, the hitting, it served to make your stay here a less torturous one but seeing Toji back in front of you, with his inappropriate comments made that trunk full of pent up emotions open up.

Toji was the only one who treated you like another person. The only one who respected you and said Please and Thank you. The only one who stopped his cousin when he was not satisfied with the glass he had blown on your forehead, he took a glass to pounce on you, getting Toji a scar on his face that he shares with you.

He suffered almost the same fate as yours, only his family never sold him, on the contrary, they decided to keep him and use him as a pet to abuse and make fun of, until one day it stopped, until one day Toji never showed his face in his clan again until now.

You hated it.

You hated the fact that he could be free.

"So they finally broke you," Toji adds before you leave, just as your foot pushes on the door to help you open it.

"Why did you come back?" You ask without turning to look at him.

"I stopped by to borrow a couple of tools," he says with a teasing tone.

"Are you going to leave again?"

"Yes," he replies flatly. "Are you going to tell them I was here?"

Your fingers squeeze the box full of heavy weapons and you have to push it up closer to your chest so it doesn't slip.

"Have a good trip." That's all you say before you leave and venture out into the hallway.

The warm sun streams through the glass windows, dusk a few minutes away. Your feet grow heavier, you drag them under the floor, your fingers dig hard into the cardboard— You were jealous, irritated that Toji was lucky enough to come and go as he pleased, that no one knew when he was in or when he was leaving, that no one could guess what his next move was going to be. You envied his freedom.

The door to the training room bedroom hits the wall thanks to your kick, causing the three men in the center to scowl at you. The brunette one rushes at you to snatch the box from your hands, whispering a mumbled "Useless" that has your fingers clenching tighter.

"You may leave." Orders the older of them, but you don't move.

It was the first time you saw his face. He was a man of short stature and gray hair, he had wrinkles on his forehead, cheeks and neck and a long beard that reached to his collarbone. The other two were at least your age, you knew them well, they grew up with you but you had always been hidden under your fear that you never looked up beyond their bare feet or their shoes and now that you were soaking in their features and age difference, the idea that you could fight him for your freedom and beat him flashed in front of you.

"I-"

"Are you deaf? Leave the room."

The white-haired man walks towards you with the katana in one hand, his whole countenance indicating danger. His cursed energy spills all over the place making you feel insignificant. You have never taken a weapon in your hands before other than to clean them, you never fought, you didn't know what your limits or your strengths were but right now you are so high from the adrenaline rush buzzing in your bloodstream that you are sure you can stand up to him.

The old man stops in front of you with the tip of the sword grazing your throat.

"What will be one less maid?" He says and his apprentices laugh at a cruel and unfunny joke.

You laugh with them, filled with a numbing peace. The old man pushes the tip closer, breaking the skin, tearing flesh and the warm liquid spills down your neck staining your white uniform and the pain makes you smile even more. You want to run away but your knees tremble, your feet don't respond. You have never been so close to freedom before so you succumb to that desire closing your eyelids and waiting with your arms at the end of your destiny, when the old man pushes the blade of the sword a little more there is not even pain, only euphoria for tasting the freedom you have longed for so much.

"Hey." Your eyes snap open and turn shakily to God's voice coming from the hallway. He's leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and you hadn't realized you were crying until the salty taste numbs your tongue. "What are you guys doing?" He casually asks the men, though in reality his eyes are on you.

Your breathing becomes a whirlwind as you see him enter the room, you can't feel him, so it's as if it's all part of a vivid dream or a horrible nightmare.

"Oh, look who's back!" Laughs one man.

"You're not welcome here," the other shouts as he spits on the floor and Toji moves into the space as if he owns the place.

In the blink of an eye he knocks out the brown-haired man and leaves him spitting blood on the floor, then he pounces on the green-eyed blond and after an exchange of punches breaks his neck and drops his body on the floor with a crack of the wood that receives his body with a soft bounce.

Then he turns to the old man who, moving the katana away from you, wields it in Toji's direction. Without being able to blink you appreciate the difference in power between the men: between Toji, the younger ones and the old man, the latter being the one who gives Toji the most fight to defeat but after a while Toji leaves him lying on the ground, holding the wound that he had given the old man in the abdomen with his same sword.

When Toji approaches you you can't speak.

“Are you all right?" He questions you but you can't stop shaking. Toji tears a piece of cloth from his kimono to tie it around your neck to stop the bleeding, the piece of cloth despite getting soaked right away manages to do its job successfully. "It's not going to help much. But it should hold until you can put something better on.” Then he adds, "Good luck."

And how if he never came, he leaves the room at a slow pace, leaving you with a massacre in front of you, blood under your feet, on your neck and staining the carpet.

And in the midst of the mist that was your life at that moment, a ray of light illuminated it, giving you the answer. He was your Savior.

Still in a state of stupor you put your hand to your neck and the feeling that you are in the present and in real life returns little by little, the wound starts to hurt, it hurts to swallow, it hurts to open and close your jaw. You leave the room holding your throat, looking for the trace of the man who had played the hero without knowing what you would do after having him in front of you.

"Zenin!" you shout, but your voice is barely more than a whisper and his huge body had crossed the hallway and turned right.

You move in his direction, you run shortening the distance and joining your destinies. You find him again a little closer to the gate, where to your surprise there were no guards guarding the entrance. The gigantic doors of the entrance to the Clan were wide open, unlike how you had imagined so many times in your dreams, savoring your escape, there was no wind, no noise, on the contrary. There was a silence in the scene that was almost uncomfortable, something different from how you had imagined the scene would be when escaping from your hell.

Toji's loud footsteps on the stones is all you can hear.

"Zenin!" you shout again, reminding your feet that they should keep moving forward.

Thanks to the quietness of the scene, Toji manages to hear you, turning to face you.

"Don't follow me," he warns. And you decide to ignore him completely, taking another unsure step forward as your body lurches slightly forward.

"You saved me."

He scratches the back of his neck, indifferent to your words. "And I would have let you die there if I'd known you'd become a nuisance."

His cruel words provoke nothing in you, create no emotion in you. You don't stop, you don't stop looking at him as you feel the scar open up more each time you speak.

"But you didn't. Let me come with you." "That won't work. Go back inside."

"Zenin, please."

Toji looked like an angel. The colors around him blended into a beautiful watercolor of whites and shades of green. Around him gave off a heavenly aura, it was the first time you could see his cursed energy and it was beautiful, a smile full of hope is drawn on your face.

"I go by Fushiguro now."

It's the last thing you hear, your fingers reach out to touch him but your hand is suspended in the air, held in time and it's all you remember before Toji turns his back on you and walks away from you and everything around you shatters. The bright lights go out, your knees falter and a cold annoying sweat settles on your palms and the back of your neck.

You can't see anything when your body hits the ground, everything is dark but you can feel it. The floor is neither warm nor safe, so Toji must have held you once more before you collapsed on the stones.

— / / /

When you wake up it takes you a couple of extra minutes to open your eyes. Your whole body feels heavy like never before, you were used to physical labor but now it felt like you would collapse if you tried to stand up. The second thing you notice is that it is cold, but your body is warm so you drag your eyes until you notice the warm crimson red blanket tucking your body in a delicate way, it is at that moment that your eyes venture further to check where you are.

It was a room, you were in a bed that could hold at least two adults. With a soft blanket over you and a dim light coming from the left side.

"You're awake." You are startled by the voice coming from the right, your heart flutters at the stranger whom it doesn't take you long to recognize. His appearance had now changed, he has his wet hair slicked back giving you a glimpse of his forehead. He had also changed his clothes, now wearing a black sweater that matches his pants of the same color. Toji is sitting on the edge of the bed staring at you, holding his jaw in a fist as his lips form an involuntary half pout. "You need to leave." Then he says, taking you by surprise.

Your mouth opens but only a whimper of pain comes out of it, your fingers search for your wound but you stumble over a bandage that you assume he had placed while you slept and suddenly you were very aware of it, of its texture against your skin and how tightly it squeezed your neck, so much so that it was hard for you to swallow.

You look at him with wide eyes and he clicks his tongue.

"You didn't lose much blood but I did what I could." You tilt your face in his direction, close your eyes briefly trying to ignore the pain. "Don't talk for now. You were sleeping all day but I need you to get out of here tomorrow, you'll be well enough in the morning."

Your eyes expand at the statement, you try to speak, create sentences, but your throat hurts and you have no choice but to be silent as you stir in the sheets and watch him stand up without you being able to interfere, stretching his back and arms until his muscles groan and thunder in a grunt of exhaustion vibrates his throat.

Ignoring your gaze that begs for him to stay a little longer, Toji leaves the room, turning on a night light next to the bedside table. Soon the floor is illuminated with a navy blue halo that runs along the bottom of the wall and you realize you are alone again as soon as you hear the door close with a soft knock.

You are alone again. It's the thought that comes back into your head and rumbles against your skull. Of course this wasn't like when you were at the Zenin's house and were forced to sleep with other servants in a room smaller than this one, but even though the lighting gives you some peace of mind the darkness clings to your skin in a terrifying way. You are ten years old again when you believed there were monsters under your bed except this time you knew they were real but they were not fantasies, they were flesh and blood men who would probably be looking for you as they blamed you for slaughtering their men, even though they made sure you never had the strength to do it.

Suddenly it is all too much. The bandage on your neck seems to have hands and steals your oxygen squeezing against your throat, your lungs expand but don't bring air back with them and the light coming in from the street through the glass window gives way to shadows that form sinister figures on the wood of the floor. You bring your trembling fingers to your face and cover your eyes, your ears ringing from the blood that suddenly starts pumping your body uncontrollably, all this frenzy of panic drives you to push the blanket away from your body and makes you put your feet on the floor.

You're grateful to be on solid ground, to have something real under your feet. Crawling you flip the switch on and then fling open the door to face reality.

Outside you become a little more familiar with the place you are in. Your eyes quickly scanning the place you realize you are in an apartment, one that carries the same vibes of the room you came from (a wooden floor covered in a rare carpet, walls with minimalist decor and by minimalist you mean non-existent), there is a murmur coming from somewhere so you lean your face forward letting yourself be guided by the muffled conversation.

Your path is lit by the dull light of a lamp that is not bright enough to illuminate the whole room, and not to mention the conversation going on somewhere in the apartment which doesn't seem to fit the scene, everything is so quiet that you can hear your own heart pumping, it doesn't seem like Toji left you behind just a couple of minutes ago, it seems as if he has disappeared, as if he has never been there and this was all a nightmare.

You walk cautiously around the apartment, taking an overview of something you could take to defend yourself in case you need it. Near the couch you find an empty beer bottle and grab it from the tip in the direction away from your body, as if it were a baseball bat.

You are afraid to call his name and there is someone else lurking among the darkness. Questions such as, did someone come in and hurt Toji and then come for you are formulated one after another in your head, creating a dozen scenarios in which you could die at the hand of a clan member tonight.

Your ears guide you to a room in the background where you hear murmuring that is muffled by the noise of a television that as you step closer becomes clearer. Light escapes through a crack in a half-open door, you wet your lips before continuing and with your bare feet you push open the door, still holding the bottle and ready to strike.

"I can't have another person here!"

"She’ll be gone in the morning!"

The pair of men who seemed to be carrying on an angry conversation fall silent at the groan of the door. Eyes fall on you and how ridiculous you must look with a bottle as a weapon that would be useless if they really wanted to attack you. One of them is Toji, you recognize him instantly. The other is wearing a brown suit and has a lit cigarette trapped between his fingers, the same build (maybe a little thinner) and height as Toji.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Toji scolds you wrinkling his nose, paying little attention to his friend who seems to be mentally choking him.

"Fear," you reply hoarsely.

Toji exchanges glances with the man and then turns back to you with a sigh. His footsteps go in your direction and you cling to the bottle raising it higher in a trembling grip, ready to throw it if necessary, however, Toji disarms you in a matter of seconds, your fingers remaining raised at his chest as you blink in humiliation.

In a second Toji takes your body and throws it over his shoulders along with a grunt as if it were a simple sack of potatoes, and walks with you all the way you had to walk towards him back to the room where he told you to stay.

He closes the door behind you with one foot and drops your body unkindly onto the mattress which bounces gently with your weight.

"Just tell me if you want to go out on the street tonight and I'll carry you myself and throw you out." You stare at him silently with deer eyes, your heart pounding with the same intensity as one and wishing you could be recovered so you could talk and explain to him everything that's going through your head. Faced with your state he sighs, brushing a couple of wild locks from his face, and sits back down where he was before, on the edge of the mattress. "Listen, kid, don't get us both kicked out. Just be good, okay?"

You nod and realize his intentions as he is ready to leave as soon as he finishes speaking, but your hand comes forward and you stop him by clinging to his forearm.

"Stay," you beg. He shakes his head, turning away from your eyes. "Fear. Please."

There is desperation in your words, pain comes out of them followed by despair at not being able to speak as you normally would and advocate for your situation. Toji sighs resignedly and stands up to remove his shoes, then grabs the material of his sweater and pulls it off until his chest is exposed. Even with the little help from the light and battling the shadows you soak in his naked body, how worked his torso is and the few scars that the bluish hue of the lights reveal.

"Move aside," Toji says reluctantly and without complaint you do so, while burning with shame inside.

As soon as he settles in as best he can, you pull the covers back to cover you both. Toji holds his head with one hand and lets the other rest on his chest, you can't help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

"Man. Who?" you ask, seeking to hear him speak once more as Toji's voice brought you assurance.

"A friend." Toji responds dryly and reluctantly. You try to move closer to his warmth but he whines again, making the sound of a non-domestic animal. "No snuggling. Stay on your side."

After a while where no one says anything else and where you can't fall asleep because if you do you are sure you will wake up there again, inside those four walls, you mumble a, "Thank you." To which Toji doesn't respond.

At some point you could no longer fight against the exhausting sleep or the heaviness of your muscles and ended up losing the battle of the watch. Light particles get trapped in your eyelashes which makes you blink rapidly welcoming a new day. The first thing you notice is how dry your throat is, the second is a pair of strong arms holding you prisoner, adrenaline shoots through your body before you can process what was happening.

Memories come flashing back to you. You remember what had happened a couple of hours ago and remember Toji telling you to stay on the side of the bed, which you did! Yet somehow your bodies end up entangled with each other, his arms holding you very close to him preventing you from escaping. His grip is strong, he encircles your waist and holds you close to his chest, one hand on your abdomen and the other near your collarbones and chest, his lower body is very close to you, so much so that as soon as you realize you can feel how hard he is a hot steam starts on your cheeks and spreads all over your face.

You take a deep breath, then swallow saliva in a poor quest to hydrate your throat. Your fingers tap his arm near your neck.

"Zenin." You call out to him, something louder than a whisper, saying his name for some reason makes you feel warmer inside. "Toji?" you repeat his name and his face descends to your neck, his hot breath stumbles against your ear and a heavy sigh catches in your throat.

Toji lies there breathing, in a kind of trance that prevents him from waking up and his hand which was lying on your collarbone goes up to your neck where it takes hold of your throat and gently exerts pressure. You call his name again moaning from the pain, he grunts.

"What?" You never thought he could sound more morose than he already was, but apparently you were wrong. Morning Toji was a different being.

"No snuggling." You remind him with your eyes wide open, there was no way you could be asleep in the situation you were in. "You said." Your voice is still hurting, you sound hoarse.

"I said you couldn't cuddle me," Toji protests, clinging tighter to your body. "I didn't say anything about me not being able to." As soon as he finishes speaking his face scrunches against the side of your throat and the strands of his hair tickle you, your shoulders shrug instinctively and he laughs as your abdomen tightens. "How did you sleep?" he asks, still with his face hidden.

"Better."

"Good." That's all he says before suddenly walking away from you. You don't move from your spot, your eyes fixed on the rocking chair in the corner that keeps a teddy bear on it, your heart beating a mile a minute as you listen to him wander into the room behind you. "I was serious when I said you had to go." He reminds you, which causes you to sit up in bed slowly creating a misshapen arch with your back.

"I have nowhere to go." Your voice sounds broken, but you can form longer sentences than yesterday without feeling like the wound is going to open at any moment.

Toji already knows and probably doesn't care, he took a lot of trouble getting you out of that prison so now you were on your own. But the idea of surviving on your own in a world you barely had any knowledge of is terrifying, all you've worried about for years is that the food wouldn't get cold before it reached the table and indulging the whims of each of the clan members.

An idea suddenly strikes you, a light bulb would appear above your head if it were in a cartoon. "I can cook," you say, just as Toji is walking in the direction of the exit.

"We don't need a maid."

His words hit you with a stark reality check. Being a servant is all you knew how to do, if you no longer had someone to serve, then what was your purpose?

The door opens and you dart out of bed straight to Toji's feet, your arms do a bear hug around one of his legs and you look up at him from below with messy hair and pleading eyes.

"Please."

He groans, squeezing his eyes with his fingers, clearly frustrated with the situation, those same fingers cling to your forearms and help you to your feet.

"I don't want to see you on your knees begging anyone ever again, you are free now." With that, he drags you out of the room and your feet can barely keep up with his strength, in the same hallway you walked down earlier you see the man in the same suit from last night eating something in the kitchen and waving at you, a greeting you would return if you weren't too busy.

Toji stops in front of a door and with an open palm pushes it open to reveal a bathroom.

"Wait here." He leaves you in the middle of the small bathroom, as you stare confusedly at the tiles. Toji soon returns with things in his hand which he pushes into your chest and you are forced to hold them so you don't drop them. "Get changed and take a shower, we don't have warm water." That's all he says to then turn his back on you and leave you to your fate.

At the edge of the bathtub there were only two things: a three-in-one shampoo with a white label and a mint essence liquid soap and after checking what you had in your hands you realized that they were Toji's things: A purple t-shirt with the name of some brand on the chest that you were sure you were going to outgrow and some dark shorts along with a pair of boxers of the same shade, this was way more than you would have gotten on your own (and it's not like you really love the uniform you're wearing) so you feel grateful because this was his way of showing you kindness.

The very cold water washed away the sweat and dirt from the previous disastrous day. You also took the opportunity to remove the bandage and wash your hair with the shampoo you had appropriated without permission. The wound in your throat had begun to heal since it was not so deep after all, but you had to be very careful not to hurt it since it still hurt when you moved too much.

In the absence of a toothbrush you took two swigs of the mint mouthwash on top of the sink and walked out smelling like Toji which somehow filled you with tranquility. It doesn't take you long to find him, he was in the kitchen watching the news and spooning a spoonful of cereal into his mouth when he paused at the sight of you, a smile stretching his lips.

"You look weird." You didn't look weird. You looked like a female version of him but you decided to swallow the comment that would point this out and laugh softly instead. Toji pats the empty stool next to him which prompts you to move closer to him, a bowl of cereal was placed in front of the chair you now occupy of which you begin to eat from resting your eyes on the television and the grizzled gentleman reporting live on an accident that happened in the harbor.

All of this felt comforting but at the same time it was out of place. You? Eating cereal on a Sunday morning as if you were a normal young girl? You never had the chance to enjoy your teenage years or even have free time, you never knew what it was like to own a phone, go out to the park with friends, have a pet or even what it was like to have a crush on someone. All you have ever done is serve others, you dreamed of this day so much that one day you stopped wishing for it and accepted your destiny, you accepted that you would serve the Zenin clan until they didn't need you anymore, until your hair lost its color and they threw you out on the street.

But now you were here and you could go anywhere if you wanted to, although for some reason you were still there. And for some reason, Toji hadn't kicked you out.

Still in disbelief you stare at Toji, you see him chewing carelessly on his cereal while his eyes are fixed on the TV. His eyelashes are long, his lips thin and they were moist from the milk, dripping slightly, the scar moved every time he chewed. The features of his face were mature and indicative of how tired he is, dark circles under his eyes and a frown— all you saw was someone tired.

“What?" Toji wasn't looking at you, but of course he knew you were looking at him. You don't even stop to admire him the moment you answer him.

"What have you made of your life? Fushiguro? Is it official?"

"I got married, I had a son." Surprise is painted on your face, your eyelids twitch slowly but Toji doesn't give you time to speak. "She died some time later, I stuck to what I do best." His neck turns, leaving the gray-haired gentleman's voice as a way of softening what he will say next. "You want to know what I do for a living? I kill people… sorcerers." The last comes with intentions to scare you.

You don't move a muscle when he finishes his speech, on his face is drawn a macabre smile that tells you that you should be afraid of him but you are not.

"Your son?" you ask instead, spooning another spoonful of cereal into your mouth as you hold his gaze.

"He's fine." Toji replies simply, downplaying it, and you decide not to probe further for now, grateful that he's opened up a bit about his past with you.

Before you knew it you had finished eating, you had emptied your bowl almost completely, chewing and swallowing automatically.

Toji next to you leaves his stool to walk to the sink, undisguised you soak yourself in him cooling his face with the flow of water, running his wet hands through his hair and then with a towel that was nearby he dries his hands.

"I'm leaving."

"Work?"

"Yeah."

"Can I come with you?"

"Nope." You ignored him anyway and walked behind him. "Stop following me."

Still, you didn't. Because where else could you go? At least today would be the last day of your life where you could enjoy the present without worrying about what you have to do tomorrow.

Toji didn't do anything to stop you either, he let you down the stairs behind him and let you ride shotgun in an old blue car that was parked behind the building.

"This is your car?" your eyes examine the dashboard, your curious fingers didn't hold back from touching the radio and Toji tapped them gently getting your attention back to him.

"Don't touch." He was smiling, the scar was unbearably attractive. Your hands folded in your lap obediently. "Sometimes it is," he continued speaking, turning the steering wheel with one hand to take the corner.

For a couple of seconds all you hear on the radio is an annoying static noise, which from time to time quiets down to give way to a female voice that doesn't last long before it is shut off again by the annoying static.

The window pane is down and your face is outside the window, holding onto your own arms as the sun warms your face and the breeze ruffles your hair which is starting to dry. There are many people on the streets, some carrying ice cream in their hands and others walking their dogs which makes you smile once again as you contemplate every little detail in awe.

"Glass up and head in," complains Toji next to you. You move away from the window to examine him.

"Will you ever stop being so grumpy?"

"Ugh?" Toji genuinely looks offended, raising an eyebrow as he exchanges glances with you and the road. You laugh.

"I don't think you know the word fun."

"And you do?" For that moment he looked at you longer than someone behind the wheel should.

"Aren't you ashamed that a maid knows how to have more fun than you?"

"I can't believe I'm seeing with my own eyes the life of the party. What were you doing, falling asleep at ten and playing with brooms?" you laugh against your will, your lips stretching until it hurts.

"Oh! So you do know how to make jokes."

"Shut up."

"Sir get your feet off the table, don't take your head out of the window, get out of my house."

"I would never say take your feet off the table because I don't care."

“You don't clean?"

"Nah. That's Shiu's doing." So that was his name.

"That's why you need a maid," you tried to persuade him in a gentle tone.

"You're not going back to that house, kiddo. We'll only get in trouble," Toji warns earnestly as he drives around another of the city's numerous corners.

"Stop calling me that! I'm an adult, you know!" you protest, raising your voice.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Toji replies sarcastically as he parks under the shade of a leafy tree and you realize you were in front of a school. "I need you to do something for me."

"What do you want?"

Outside the school, children were walking out hand in hand with their parents as a teacher enthusiastically waved them off. You turned to face Toji, who peered through your window. You raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"No," you reply firmly, crossing your arms and sinking them into the breadth of your T-shirt.

"Huh?" Toji arches an eyebrow.

"Are you thinking of kidnapping a child?" you ask indignantly, full of question marks in your voice.

Toji burst out laughing, laughing at a joke that you didn't think was funny at all.

"What?" His eyes narrowed until they were barely visible, and dramatically, he wiped an imaginary tear from one of his eyes. "No. Do you see the boy over there?" he pointed a long finger out into the street, and you followed his gaze.

"The one in the green T-shirt?" you asked, watching a chubby blond boy picking his nose.

"The one next to him," Toji corrected, pointing to another boy who was looking at the blond boy with a frown, clutching his backpack. You turned your neck to Toji. .

"The grumpy one?" you asked. "Your son?" You don't need his confirmation when he falls silent at the accusation.

"Just go closer and make sure he’s okay," the man turned away from your curious gaze, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel, concentrating on the brown leaf-covered road.

"Okay?" you insisted.

"No bruises or anything like that," Toji mumbled through his teeth, downplaying it with a wave of his hand. However, you noticed a genuine concern in his words.

You looked again at the boy, who was still glaring in disgust at the others. The task you had been given made your heart beat fast.

"I'm sure he's fine," you say, still watching him.

"You wanted to come, so go. The car ride is not free, kid," Toji comments.

"Stop calling me that. I have a name," you demand, your jaw tense and your teeth clenched, wanting him to look at you with the same admiration and respect with which you looked at him.

"I will if you go," Toji says, staring at you.

If this was your way of saying thank you for what he had done for you so far, then so be it. Your bottom lip quivered and his blue gaze intimidated you. After all, a deal's a deal. You got out of the car carefully, checking both sides of the street before crossing and starting to walk towards the school. Before you took another step, a man approached the boy, seeming to know him by the familiarity with which they treated each other. He was a man about your own age, tall and with white hair.

Reluctantly, he took the boy's hand and led him in the opposite direction of the school. You trotted back toward the car.

"Who was that?" you questioned Toji before even closing the door.

"A friend," Toji replied laconically as he started the car again.

"So he's in good hands. If you're friends, why didn't you approach him?"

"Hmm," Toji muttered, dodging. "Lots of questions."

"Why don't you approach him?" you insisted once again.

Toji sighed before replying sincerely, "This is my way of taking care of him." Despite your initial misgivings, you gradually felt content with his explanation, crossing your arms in momentary acceptance.

The day progressed, and Toji drove you to a nearby pier. He left you in the car while he walked away to ask some questions of some people in the area. From the window, you watched the reflection of the sun on the water and in it the blurry image of Toji grabbing the man in the boat by the shirt threatening to throw him into the sea. You shivered in your seat, focusing your whole body and senses in the direction of the fight but you didn't dare get out because you didn't want to disobey him (besides there wasn't much you could do). It was some time before Toji returned to the car, with a frown on his face and an expression that told you he hadn't gotten clear answers but told you he wasn't going to answer any of the questions you never asked.

Finally, Toji took you to a cozy ramen restaurant. You ate together in a quiet corner of the place, sharing in bits and pieces stories of his work and your memories of when you were a slave. As the evening progressed, the initial tension between you began to dissipate. You realized that, despite his rough exterior, Toji had a kind and protective side in his own way.

After a long day together, you returned home, the sun had set and the city lights were beginning to glow. Although more questions than answers had arisen, you were beginning to feel closer to Toji and the world around him.

— / / /

"You're very quiet," Toji says after closing the apartment door behind you. He continues on his way without stopping to really check, straight to the switch where it allows the light bulb to chase away the gloomy shadows which you appreciate. "And I don't know if I like that or it scares me," he adds.

Toji is looking at you now at a safe distance for you because your thoughts became a mess when you had him close. A sudden chill fills you with shivers and you bring your hands up to your forearms to hug yourself, apparently you had forgotten to close a window.

"I've made a decision but I know you're going to laugh."

Toji licks his lips, the tip of his tongue brushing the scar erasing the birth of a smile, you look at him with raised eyebrows and unable to contain himself he lets out a snort followed by his hands raised to chest height in a sign of peace and surrender.

"Stop it," you ask.

"Please speak up," Toji encourages you, crossing his arms.

"I want you to train me." You pause, seeing no response from him you continue speaking with your throat strangely dry. "I want to learn from you and I want to kill the ringleaders of the Zenin clan.”

"You want revenge?" To your surprise his countenance was serious, with some muscle in his jaw clenched.

"Yes."

"Then I can't help you. Revenge is the worst emotion you can cling to in order to go on living."

You blink a couple of times in his direction, perplexed that as soon as he finished speaking he turned around and headed down the hallway to continue on his journey to wherever he was headed, your mouth opens and closes a couple of times until you perk up and take a step forward.

"What?!" you shout, confused.

"There is no point in seeking revenge."

Toji speaks without stopping walking, without raising his voice, moving to the direction where your room was. You chase after him with a vein throbbing in the sides of your head, you were so full of rage accumulated over so many years that your thoughts were clouded.

"You're going to give me moral lessons?”

"Listen." He turns, pointing an accusing finger at you and you force your feet to stop so fast you nearly collide with it. "I've lived under the shadow of revenge every day, it's one of the reasons I get up every morning and it's an emotion that consumes you, you don't want that for yourself."

"You don't know me. You can't know what I want," you point out.

"It doesn't take knowing you to read you like the back of my hand. You couldn't bear to kill a fly."

You clench your jaw hard until your teeth grind from the pressure, your back is tense and erect as if someone was pulling it up. You take a step forward and Toji seems to give you the same importance he would give a mosquito, he turns his back on you again and walks into your room.

He didn't know you, he had no idea what you were capable of doing, you had the ability to kill someone, you were sure of that.

You follow him through the door frame. With the little blue light bathing the place, you notice Toji with a naked torso, the black t-shirt was lying on the floor at his feet, you had caught him halfway through his fingers grabbing the loop of his pants to undo it and let it fall.

You gasp, covering your lips with one hand and your mouth fills with saliva. "What are you doing?" His skin looked smooth, marred by a scar near his left pec and another near the V that was blatantly marked above his pelvis, where a happy trail also began. "Get out of my room," you stammer, forcing yourself to focus on his eyes.

"This is my room." You lower your hand from your face slowly, at the revelation you can't help but take a wide look at the place, then up and down Toji. "And if you don't want to see me naked, I'd advise you to leave."

"We're not done talking."

"Yeah, we are," he replies. "I'm going to take a shower." Now you're the one crossing your arms.

"Train me," you demand.

"I won't."

Before you can speak again he is pulling down his pants, your body as automatically turns away from him, fleeing from the flash of bare skin.

"Are you crazy?!"

"Ow come on, sweetheart. It's just a little skin. This just proves you're not ready for my training."

"How does seeing you naked have anything to do with training me!" He was crazy. Insane. Unhinged. And you worried that instead of pushing you away it would push you more into him.

"If you can't see a fucking dick, how are you going to have the stomach to cut someone's head off?"

You don't remember the last time you had felt so embarrassed. You were trembling but you had to show Toji how important this was to you, so against all odds you turned to see him. Your eyes went to his dick —which hung heavy and thick under the bush of hair above his pelvis— drawn by a magnetism stronger than your willpower, you swallowed your embarrassment and looked him in the face, your pussy wetting in the vastness of his shorts. Toji had a half smile on his face and you weren't sure if it was your nerves or the sudden dizziness, but you could see a pale shade of red on his cheeks.

"Fushiguro, please." Your fists were clenched as a way of keeping you bound to this present moment, your nails digging red-hot into your flesh forcing you not to wander back into the middle of her thighs.

"Let me take a shower," he sighs, chewing on a chuckle. "I'll be back soon and we can talk."

Toji moves away from your point of view and you don't move a muscle until you hear him close the bathroom door. You run to open a window, sticking your head out until the wind cools the heat from your cheeks. You pat your face gently with trembling fingers, then scrunch your eyes and sink your face into the palms of your hands and for a long minute you sigh at the scent of liquid soap, the shampoo in your hair and the smell of food that clung to your shirt thanks to the ramen restaurant.

Underneath the baggy T-shirt your nipples are hard, aching every time they brush against the thick fabric begging for some kind of release.

There was a lot of traffic on the street, every now and then you could hear the horn of a vehicle in the distance. You linger in the safety that space afforded you until Toji's voice shocks you by calling your name from behind, followed by an apology if his behavior earlier had made you uncomfortable but he needed to make a point.

You turn on your heels to look at him. Toji has a white towel wrapped around his hips, his chest as well as his hair are soaked with hundreds of water droplets that you would like to lick (you cross out that thought immediately), he runs his hand through his jet hair and you forget how to breathe, the room that starts to give off an unbearable heat closes in on you.

"I hear you, you needed to prove a point and that's okay." You lick your lips.

Toji starts wandering in the room, opens the closet and takes out some pajama pants.

"Shiu would have to be convinced that you can do the job." Your eyebrows raise to the sky slightly but you don't say anything. "And have him take you into his apartment until you can be somewhere else safe," Toji says, slipping into his pants still wearing the towel.

Wonderful, he had no boxers underneath. Which made his penis stand out shamelessly when he removed the towel altogether, the garment falling dangerously below his sharp hip bones.

"I can do the job." You force yourself to keep the thread of conversation going, scratching a nonexistent itch on your forehead.

"Good." Toji leaves the room with the towel in his hand, so you think he probably went to put it in the bathroom and you take the opportunity to let your legs rest from shaking and sit on the bed. "But you are free to leave at any time. I'm not going to force you to be here, Shiu either," Toji shouts from the hallway and as he speaks his voice gets closer until he materializes in the doorway.

"Thank you." That's all you can say at this point as he looks down on you. Toji makes a sound with his tongue and points to the hallway with his head.

"Do you want something to eat? We have cereal and..." he pauses, trying to remember more food list and a smile appears on your lips.

"I'm fine," you gently confess to him.

"We can order ramen or Chinese food. I'm starving, I think Shiu left his wallet."

"I'm fine, Toji. Thank you," you repeat, still maintaining your smile.

Toji nods and leaves the room. You can breathe again, your chest feels squeezed by an invisible weight and you open and close your hand to make the sudden cramp go away.

You walk over to the window to take a last breath of the night air, the damp wind, the smell of smoke and the smell of freedom. Your lungs expand with the scent of street dirt.

You were free to go anywhere, to run away, to escape, to keep running, yet you decided to go back to Toji's bed. You lay your head on a pillow while hugging another to cheat the ghost of loneliness and pretend you were really with someone so it makes you feel safe— although you don't know how long it takes, but after trying to fall asleep watching the figures forming the light from the window on the floor mixed with the noise of the TV in the distance you realize you can't fall asleep, too scared and anxious to do so (if your savior wasn't around).

So you pull the warm sheet away from your body and leave the room in the direction of where the noise from the television was coming from, where you now realize that it is a baseball game.

"Hey," Toji greets as he notices you approaching him. He contemplates your figure silently as he watches you drop your weight beside him, wearing nothing but his big old t-shirt, your thighs were in full view. "Can't sleep?" Toji was watching you out of the corner of his eye, you shake your head.

"You?" you ask, watching the game.

"I was thinking of sleeping on the couch."

"No," you whine. "It's your room, it's your bed, we can share it."

Toji snorts. "You know how I sleep, I almost strangled you this morning."

"That’s not true." You tear your eyes away from the television to focus on him, blue and green lights dance across his features, across his cheekbones and sharp jaw. For a second your gazes stumble and he focuses on your lips for the duration of a blink. "I mean you did but I don't mind." You chuckle at a bad joke, Toji makes the attempt at a laugh. "You'd be doing me a favor anyway."

"Don't say that, kid— [Name]," he corrects himself at once, turning his focus back to the game, you pat his bare shoulder in a sign of 'congratulations'. "You still have a lot to live for, there's a lot you haven't seen or known yet. Even I don't want to die."

"Don't say it like that," you scold him with a frown, still looking at him... admiring him. "You have a lot to live for, too."

"Nah."

"Stop it. You have your son."

"He hates me, [Name]," he says with a tone of bitterness, you stay quiet for a moment, soaking in the noise of the match narrator, fumbling what to say. You hadn't comforted anyone before, not even your fellow maidservants, you didn't know exactly what to do or what to say so you loosened your tongue.

"I don't think he hates you, Toji." You said his name with such compassion, his jaw tensed focusing his vision to the ground. "Even if he hates you, you're alive, you have a chance to make things right, to change, to be better."

Toji looks at you, rather looks at your mouth, not wanting to pretend this time. "I don't want to change."

"I don't believe you." He looks into your eyes and you hold his gaze, one of your hands going up to his face and cradling his jaw. After a few seconds you feel the weight of his bones in your hand, indicating to you that he had dropped into it. "You know why I don't believe you?" your thumb goes to his lip and Toji parts them for you, the hardness of your hand meets his scar above his mouth and he flinches, pulling back a little. "Because you got this by protecting me."

Toji takes your hand between his fingers and slowly lowers your hand to his lap, for a while he stands still and you can't figure out what it is you see in his eyes because no one has ever looked at you like that before.

"I'm sure there are good things in you." Toji can feel the pulse in your wrist, he could even swear he can hear your heart. Pumping and beating, rumbling in your ribs.

"Stop," Toji begs, unable to look at you.

Enveloped in the frenzy that engulfs you, you let go and take his face in your hand again and Toji drops into it like a puppy in need of attention. His face looks beautiful under the lights on the television, those pretty blue eyes covered in a heavy layer of glitter. They were the same eyes that looked down on you from upstairs in the hallway when he helped you to your feet after his cousin abused you, eyes full of compassion.

"Have you ever left the country?" The question rolls off your tongue.

That look full of longing changes for a second to one of confusion, anyway he answers. "No."

"Have you ever seen a live band?"

"W- no," he chuckles.

"How long has it been since you've been to the sea?" This time he doesn't speak, you continue. "You still have many things to see, to live, don't take away the value of your life."

Toji gazes at you, closes his eyes for a moment trying to calm his inner storm but when he opens them again, long, heavy eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings— you were still here. He feels the warmth of your hand against his still in his lap, feels the firm touch of your palm on his cheek, his lungs filling with his fragrance permeating you. It was not a dream.

Toji leans forward and you don't move a muscle even though he sees something tighten in your neck and your breathing stops for just an instant.

"Please, stop me." He thinks he says to himself but his words actually reach the surface, fly to your ears in a whisper.

Toji holds you in the same way you hold him, his fingers, bigger than yours and any other maid you've ever known caresses your cheek in the same way a butterfly would kiss a flower. And this simple fact is enough to make your stomach flare, your eyelids give way to nerves and you swallow a breath.

"Please..." Toji begs again in a breath, but this time his lips are on yours, not touching you directly but just enough to let you feel his warm exhale. You could taste the milk on his lips from the cereal he had eaten and this made you lick your lips, wandering if you could discover the taste of milk on his tongue as well. "I thought you had died."

"You rescued me. That memory kept me alive."

At your confession Toji finally cuts the distance and presses his lips to yours. Just a brush, something too fast to be considered a kiss, so in search of more you pounce on him.

Your grip leaves his neck to hug the back of his neck and pull him further into you. As the baseball game is interrupted by commercials behind your back, Toji squeezes your thighs and drags you over his lap stealing a groan of surprise.

His kisses are no longer on your mouth, they go in search of your jaw and the jugular vein in your neck. Toji feels it throbbing fast against his mouth, he bites down, you moan, and he swipes his thick, hot tongue across the area soothing the burning.

"Please, stop me." You hear the request for the third time. The prayer is needy and hungry.

"I'm not going to stop you."

Toji suddenly interrupts his actions to look at you. His hands are shakily tangled inside your/his shirt.

"I can't love you." He lies, as a last resort to get you to stay away from him. You are too precious for someone like him, being around him would only ruin you.

"I don’t care," —you interrupt the intrusive train of thought in your head— “I have love enough for both of us."

If revenge was the worst emotion you can cling to in order to go on living, then you would cling to the love and admiration you feel for him.

Although you can't deny that it hurt to hear him say that, it hurt more to respond to him, it hurt when his fingers pulled hard on your nipples kneading your breasts roughly and it hurt when his teeth dug into your lip and forced his tongue into your mouth (and you were right, he tasted like milk and honey). It took courage to swallow your emotions and not run away to your/his room but you understood, you understood when he tugged off your shirt and took one of your nipples into his mouth.

You understood that both Toji and you needed this. No matter how long it took him to forget his wife, you were going to be by his side with him, as a friend, as a lover....

"Ah, ngh!"

Or as his murderous partner.

Because that's what you deserve. Finally make your own decisions, screw it up, damage it or start over.

But you were free to choose and now you chose to watch Toji from above suck on your nipples like a hungry man while your hips as with life could rub against the growing erection. His hands squeezed your breasts as he licked one to return with the other and do the same pattern while you could do nothing but gasp with parted lips.

"Fuck," he cursed, harshly carving a hard nipple with his flat tongue.

"More," you implored.

So Toji left your tits alone for a while, licking his lips with the same punishing tongue to wipe away the trace of saliva that had been left behind. Then he slipped a hand inside the boxers and his fingers met the puddle that was your pussy.

"Oh my… [Name]."

You wanted to run away, but instead you moved your hips and the friction of three fingers on your clitoris made you moan, made you repeat the action.

"I'm sorry." The apology came out of your mouth before you could understand what you were apologizing for.

It was like when you dropped a dish, when you were late in returning a weapon, when your clothes were not spotless. They were the words your mouth was most familiar with.

"Why?" Toji questions you, forcing you to speak despite your condition.

Condition: three of his fingers oscillating in circles over your over-stimulated clit.

"I asked.. why are you apologizing." With every word his fingers tap your sticky pussy, his words hot on top of your throbbing temple.

You swallow dryly. "I'm sorry," you repeat.

"Stop apologizing," Toji growls, moving to your ear, gently biting the gristle. "Are you a virgin?" The question feels like a concern, not for him but for you, it sounded like Toji needed to know whether or not you'd had sex before to know how to proceed.

"No." You reply dryly.

'No, I had sex with a member of the Zenin clan once, twice who turned out to be an asshole’ — is the answer you cut off halfway, perhaps an explanation you would —or would not— give Toji later when his fingers weren't pushing inside you.

Thanks to your lubricated pussy one finger was able to enter without difficulty, then another until you felt so full inside that you clung to Toji's shoulders for stability, hugging your body to his body as he waits for you to adjust to the size.

"Are you okay?" he asks, depositing small kisses on your shoulder.

"Hm hm!" you respond positively with your lip between your teeth.

Then his fingers push in and you groan, then out and soon you miss them and again that word Toji could get used to hearing all night comes from your lips.

"More." And he laughs, wrapped in the pleasure he gets from giving you pleasure.

Toji starts a specific rhythm, fucking you open with his big fingers as his fat thumb entertains your clit and his own cock throbs in the confines of his pajama pants, staining the fabric in a matter of seconds. You feel it resting heavy on his thigh, the thickness and size making you scratch his back wishing you had the courage to do something about it, that you had the courage to pull it out and do something else, yet you don't find the courage, it hides deep inside you as Toji pumps your pussy, in and out and faster and faster in rhythm with his moans. You are sure that if the TV were off the sticky sounds would be filling your ears in a way too embarrassing to process.

In that same rhythm Toji makes you have your first orgasm, it tears you apart and leaves you dizzy sinking your teeth into his flesh after he told you it was okay, that you could drown your screams on his shoulder, so you did, so much so that you are sure it will leave a mark. You think about apologizing but your brain mimics his raspy voice asking you not to apologize again.

For a moment you think you're going to pass out, your whole body is sore especially your thighs but it's a pain, satisfying? You wouldn't know exactly what words to put it in. You mumble his name a hundred times and he pulls you by your collar to have you facing him, your hair is tousled, your gaze confused and your lips slightly red, his cock is throbbing and in that moment he promises something to himself: he needs to make you cum again.

Above the noise of the sloppy kiss in which Toji grabs you and the narrator of the game shouting excitedly for a home run Toji hears keys in the door. Shiu, he concludes. So he grabs you by the thighs and walks with you to the room you share, no matter how much you complain about your weight or scream that you're going to fall. He doesn't release you from his grip until he throws you onto the mattress and he locks the door.

Toji takes a moment to admire your half naked body, his fingers are still soaked with you and he brings them to his mouth covering them with his drool as he walks towards you.

"There are so many things I want to show you," he says, crawling on the bed. "So many things I want to do to you." His scar rises along with the half-smile. His fingers hook into the elastic of your boxers and you moan as you stand completely naked in front of him, under the blue lights and moonlight.

You open your lips to complain but Toji places a finger over his: 'Shh' he makes a sound, then touches his ear, indicating you to pay attention to the footsteps outside which makes you keep quiet again.

Toji pounces on you, caging your body under his. Without breaking the connection of your lips together with one hand he helps your legs spread, one knee far apart from the other and he improves his position in the center. His covered cock is above your core, throbbing and begging for real attention, your fingers slide to the nape of his neck.

"Toji," you breathe. You don't remember the last time you had done so.

However, "Sh." He shushes you again by sucking the salty skin on your neck.

Each time his hips rotated over you you had to roll your eyes, so overwhelmed with pleasure. Toji then slides his fingers through your navel and reaches your sensitive clit again, the touch is as soft as a feather and at the same time he unloads on you static that fills you with shivers.

Toji wonders if he could make you cum like this, him rubbing shamelessly over your folds while at the same time stimulating your most sensitive spot. His fingers go faster and your back arches, trying to run away from the pleasure, from how raw his rough touch feels on your vulnerable flesh.

Your fingers tangle around his wrist and between dry-mouthed stutters you ask him to stop for a while. And he does so reluctantly, kissing your sweaty temple and dropping his heavy body next to you with a creak of the mattress, his chest rising and falling and the sound of the city making itself present again.

Adrenaline begins to leave your bloodstream bringing with it guilt and shame, you wonder what Toji who hasn't said another word in the last five minutes is thinking so you turn to your side to get a better look at him. He has his eyes wide open, focused somewhere on the ceiling as he sucks in his own lower lip, you move your eyes over every inch of his body until you are on his hips and the obvious bulge between his thighs, after a while of watching you realize you can see it trembling.

"Does it hurt?" you ask him after licking the sweat off your upper lip. Toji seems to have been forcibly brought out of his trance.

"What thing?" He asks, looking at you.

"Your... hmph, your penis."

He laughs, "Yeah," he replies quietly.

"I want to make you feel good."

Toji turns his head to soak you in, his eyes going to every corner of your face, then to your breasts for a moment.

"You don't have to," he speaks hoarsely, turning to your eyes.

Wordlessly, you reach down to his crotch, your fingers mimic a playful spider dancing over his navel and tangling in the trail of short hairs but Toji stops you, the grip is insecure and you stare at each other for what feels like a heavy eternity but finally he gives you the freedom to continue exploring while at the same time exhaling through his nose just like a raging bull.

You touch him through his pants and the muscles in his legs tighten, he pushes his hips up in an animal instinct to reach for more. You size it up and rub it as you watch him grow amidst the darkness, finally you get up the courage to reach into his pants and Toji helps you by pulling it down just enough so it doesn't bother you.

Half naked under your nose you breathe in the raw scent of sex that collects in a cloud-like form in the room. Toji is so hard and you take him between a weak fist, somewhat unsure, as if it’s going to bite you. Inexperienced you give a downward tug and Toji throws his head back with a curse and a choked grunt.

"More. Squeeze your hand just a little tighter," Toji says, encouraging himself to raise his head again to look at you giving him pleasure.

"Like this?"

"Yeah. The tip, just... God— fuck the tip with your hand, I'm so sensitive."

It takes you little time to learn what he likes, you learn quickly and he is pleased. Toji asks you to cradle his balls and you do so obediently, then spit on the shaft as he commands, saliva runs down the swollen pink head and slides easily to reach his full balls. Toji hunches his back and turns sideways to pay attention to you— now in front of him you had nowhere to escape.

Toji breathes on your open mouth, his fingers squeeze your ass, caress your thighs longingly and end up on your pussy, pressing on the soaked folds. For a while he stays still, just feeling your clit throbbing, it's as if he was waiting for you to stop him again, he wanted to be sure. He tentatively slips a finger in the middle of your labia and you mewl.

"You're so wet," he admits with bated breath as you continue to masturbate him. "I wanna fuck you so bad," he says, biting your lip and you close your eyes, a little dizzy now that your clit was being stimulated again. "My whole body needs it, I need to put my heavy cock in that pretty pussy of yours, [Name]. I want to— fuck me. I want to slap it with my cock, I'm sure I could make you cum with just that."

"Toji!" you scream the instant two fingers go inside you without warning, quickly assaulting your pussy, pumping it in and out. "F-fuck me, do it."

"What was that?" with a sinister smile breaking the darkness along with his scar, he longed to hear you speak again.

"Please." You respond assigned, your stomach clenching.

"Next time, baby." He deposits a fleeting kiss on your lips. "When I get condoms I'm gonna pound that pussy so good that all you're gonna remember is my name. Now..., fucking cum for me."

You couldn't breathe or respond because his mouth was on yours, stealing your breath and what little strength your limbs had left. Your whole body ached, you felt so full with those two fingers plus thumb rubbing your clit back and forth, your fist squeezes just a little on the head of his cock, your thumb slides over the cleft of the cockhead and Toji growls on your tongue, you swallow the vibrations and squeeze your eyes tightly shut letting yourself sink into the liquid stream that tucks your body, for a second you stop breathing but you open your eyes suddenly screaming his name and he shushes you again kissing you deeply, soon after Toji cums in your fist and on his own stomach, drops of cum fall on the mattress and Toji moves away to find a t-shirt of his to clean it and help you clean yourself.

"Come here," he says, but he doesn't really give you a choice because his arms were wrapped around your body, dragging you on top of him.

You sigh. Your face was crushed into his chest, his big hand playing with your hair. You didn't know what to say, you could hear his heart beating as fast as yours, you were tired and sore but never before had you felt happier than at this moment.

"Rest up, tomorrow will be your first day of training." Toji kisses the crown of your head and that's all you hear before you sink into a thick froth of dreams, where all you can appreciate is Toji's warm, naked body against yours and the soft sheets beneath your bodies.

#wr #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #jjk x reader

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tenswrld · 10 months

Text

true romance

popstar!haechan x upcomingartist!reader, angst, fluff

summary: haechan's the world's boyfriend — and yours too, i guess.

word count: 4.1k

listen to: true romance - pinkpantheress

a/n: first, sorry that its been so long...im trying to be better about writing but inspiration comes and goes,,i hope you will indulge in whatever this is!!! everytime i hear this song my mind goes to haechan for some reason sooo yeah >_< i have lots of drafts its just a matter of when or if i finish them LOL love yall tho & enjoy

•°. *࿐

tell me, do you view me the same or do you call me a stranger?

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

haechan is popular — without a doubt one of the most popular artists of your time. everyone either wants to be him or be with him, to which you completely understand. everything about him screams someone who was born to be on a stage, stealing hearts and whatnot. with such a bright personality, it was almost impossible to not like him.

you've had the privilege of getting to watch haechan grow from singing songs he wrote in his bedroom on youtube to him performing them in sold out shows. you're a fan, of course, but somewhere along the way — with crazy luck — you've wiggled your way into his life and into his heart. the two of you were music artists wishing on every star for some kind of breakthrough to the industry (take a guess on who got it). naturally, it brought you together. you were there when haechan reached 5,000 subscribers, and you were still there when he was selling out shows to 50,000 people. you've stuck by his side for so long that you're sure that its where you fit best.

in the moment, however, you're not so sure anymore.

"leave a bit after me so no one sees."

the small smile on your face slowly disappears at haechan's words and hurt quickly settles into your chest. "...why? what would be so bad about that?"

haechan seems unable to grasp how upset you are at his words. he shakes his head with a small laugh. "it's not like that, y/n. but a scandal at this time wouldn't be good."

"a scandal?" you scoff slightly. "since when have you ever cared about that?"

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair that's still slightly wet from his post-performance sweat. "i just don't want to take any risks right now. especially since my album is coming out soon. you understand, right?"

"i fly all the way out here to see you, and you don't want to be seen with me?" you say with a trembling lip and a weak voice. you're hurt and you're angry, but can't seem to keep your tears at bay.

"i didn't say that."

"you might as well have," you spit back at him.

"let's talk about this later, okay? trust me, it would be a lot worse for you than it would for me." haechan picks up his bag and swings it over his shoulder, making his way towards the backstage exit door.

frozen in place overwhelmed with emotion, you watch your boyfriend open the door. you think he's had a change of heart when he pauses at the door and turns back to you, but somehow he's managed to hurt you even more.

"maybe you should take these too," he says, placing the bouquet you made him back into your hold. the smell of roses and sunflowers taking over your senses as more tears well up in your eyes. you hope the flowers hide them from haechan's gaze. though, you're not so sure he'd notice anyway, as he'd already let the door close and left you behind.

•°. *࿐

'cause, baby, i don't care about the fame

people talk. as an upcoming music artist, you're aware that people talk. as the (hidden) girlfriend of a global superstar, you're more than aware that people love to talk about anything and everything that doesn't concern them.

you and haechan aren't on the same level of fame — not that it matters to you. it never mattered to you, really. even as haechan grew and grew and you remained with your significantly smaller (but still decent) following, fame was never your strongest desire.

yet, now, you're wondering that maybe if you were just a bit more famous, more popular, more well known, then you wouldn't feel as far away from haechan as you do right now. even as he sits beside you on the king bed of the luxury suite he booked for this stop of his tour, you feel further away from him then ever.

"i mean, what would people say about us, y/n? about you?"

"you keep saying that, hyuck, but you're not explaining it to me," you say, growing frustrated with him. "why is it just about me?"

he purses his lips before averting his gaze to the floor. "they'll say nasty stuff about you — that you're using me for fame, or money, or something like that."

you shake your head. "but you and i both know that's not true. we've been together for how many years now? their words shouldn't matter." you take hold of his hand and rub your thumb against his knuckles. "you could have nothing and i'd still be here."

"people don't know that," he scoffs. "they'll assume the worst about you."

maybe he's right — you're sure they will assume the worst about you regardless of your long, deep history with haechan. would he start to believe them? you think it, but you don’t ask — too afraid of the answer you might receive.

"what are you so afraid of?" you ask him softly, begging him with your mind for him to look at you.

but he doesn't, his eyes stayed trained on the ground and he can only weakly squeeze your hand that holds onto his own.

"i don't know."

•°. *࿐

tell me, why i don't play about you

every song is about you

haechan finally has a short break in between the legs of his tour and he chooses to spend every waking moment of it with you.

things between the two of you have felt rocky for a while. it makes haechan ashamed to say it, but he's been so focused on tour and his new album that he's pushed everything else to the side. he's a perfectionist and he feels like he's barely made it — he wants everything to work out perfectly and is committed to making sure that happens. he's not sure how long he's been brushing off anything non-career related, but he misses you — even if you're with him.

he flys the two of you out to a small, quaint place in kyoto where he finally gets to enjoy some peace and quiet in his life. he chooses to turn off his phone, not too keen with the idea of his manager berating him about all his responsibilities he'll have to tend to when he gets back. he's on vacation and he's here with you: the one person who's been with him through every up and down.

you're laying in his arms and haechan misses you to the point where it hurts — when was the last time he laid with you like this? the revelation urges him to pull you closer, placing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lay on his chest. he sighs into your hair, breathing all of you in. it's silent, for the most part, until you ask a question that rattles haechan's being.

"why do you not sing about me?" you ask it so softly that haechan almost misses it.

"what? what are you talking about?" he's genuinely confused as to what you mean. who do you think he sings about?

"i know a handful of your old old songs are about me, but you don't perform those anymore," you murmur into his chest. "ah, don't mind me, i'm just talking."

you sound embarrassed and defeated and haechan wants to cry. did you really not know? how long has he been pushing you away?

"y/n, every single song i write is about you," haechan professes. "i couldn't write about anyone else if i tried."

his words shock you, even if they shouldn't. you tilt your head up to look up at him and he looks down at you with the softest gaze.

"not that i ever would, anyway," he continues, a sad smile painting his face.

"you mean it?" you whisper to him, wanting so badly to believe him.

when haechan's resolve breaks and his eyes glaze over, you know he means it. his hold on you tightens with one hand and the other comes up to caress your cheek, swiping a tear you didn't even know had fallen.

"of course," he croaks. "you're my muse, y/n. you."

this time, you're wiping his tears away as he cries and cries into your palms. you shift the two of you so that he lies in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face buried into your torso, your hands running through his hair. he's apologizing over and over and doesn't say why, but you know why. you regret ever doubting haechan's love for you — even if he was to blame.

but, just as you're certain you love him more than anything, you know that haechan loves you back all the same.

"it's always been you, y/n."

•°. *࿐

and everybody’s shouting out your name

“you look too handsome to be pouting like that, you know,” you tease lightly, approaching haechan to adjust his tie fondly.

he can’t help but smile at you as you do so, his hands easily finding their place around your waist, tugging you close. “if you tell me to stay, i will.”

you sigh and place your hands upon his chest, allowing you to push yourself up to place a soft kiss on his lips. his lips trail after yours once you pull away and he pouts at you again, eyes begging for another kiss but you push him back ever so slightly.

“you can’t miss this, hyuck, you know that. this could be really big for you!” you beam, swiping a bit of your lip gloss off of his lips. “some important people might be there.”

“but you won’t be there,” he whines. “what’s the point?”

you roll your eyes playfully. “you’ll be fine. now go, your manager has been waiting.” haechan sighs and leans down to place one more kiss on your lips.

you pull away before he can get carried away. “go! and put a good word in for me with taeyong, yeah?”

haechan rolls his eyes but smiles at you, pecking you on the cheek as he bids you farewell. “no promises.”

ੈ♡˳

it’s barely been over an hour and haechan wants to leave.

normally he’s able to tolerate these sorts of things — the bright lights, loud music, snobby people all trying to one up each other. he can get by and chat with anyone as if he’s known them for years. typically, events like these breeze by for haechan. why was he hating every second of it?

it’s lee taeyong’s end of year celebration party. of course, as his junior, haechan was invited. he’s grateful that he’s made friends with lots of other artists under his company, otherwise haechan would have been long gone within the first 45 minutes of arriving. but, haechan stays, mostly because he admires taeyong and does, in fact, bring up you and your songs — which, to his surprise, taeyong says he knows you and enjoys your music.

haechan isn’t given the chance to talk more, unfortunately, due to an excited kim jungwoo who locks an arm around haechan’s shoulder and drags him away.

“ow — hyung! i was in the middle of a conversation!” haechan grits to jungwoo, lightly shoving his arm off of him.

“my bad, it looked like you needed saving,” jungwoo chuckles. “come on, everyone’s been looking for you.”

jungwoo leads haechan to a small circle of people to which haechan knows as his small circle of friends: mark, his company's beloved canadian rapper; johnny suh, one of seoul's most popular djs; and of course there's kim jungwoo, kim doyoung, and jeong jaehyun who make up dojaejung, korea's heartthrob boy group.

"yo, where have you been?" mark greets him excitedly, lightly slapping him on the shoulder playfully.

"what do you mean 'where have i been', i saw you yesterday, mark," haechan grumbles.

"woah, someone needs a drink," johnny chuckles. doyoung is quick to hand haechan a glass of champagne.

haechan takes a large gulp, hopefully to ease whatever tension he feels in his shoulders. he's trying to enjoy the party, he really is, but all he wants to do is come home to you.

"everything okay?" doyoung asks him, concerned with the way haechan seems to be downing his drink.

the younger boy sighs. "yeah, i'm fine, sorry. just stressed out."

"oh, your album is coming out soon, right?" jungwoo remembers, nudging haechan with his elbow. "congratulations!"

the rest of the boys congratulate him and haechan can only half-heartedly reply despite being very grateful.

"i'm sure it'll be great," johnny reassures him.

"saw a lot of love songs on that track list," jungwoo teases. "got a special someone?"

haechan stills at his words and he's caught in an argument with himself. does he mention you? does he say no? is this how he wants people to find out you’re together? before he can even reply, though, jaehyun cuts in.

"speaking of, i heard that kim minjeong has had her eye on you for a while, haechan," jaehyun says. he raises his eyebrows at the younger boy and haechan gulps, the rest of his friends nudging him playfully as they coo at him.

"that's the model, right? and singer?" doyoung asks. "you should talk to her!"

haechan feels like he's going to be sick. maybe he's being dramatic — its not like they're shoving him into minjeong's face and asking him to profess his love. still, he feels like he's betraying you in some way and he realizes he has to go home.

"i can talk you up, probably," mark says. "we're normally at the studio at the same time."

“i heard that shin ryujin has been talking about you, too,” johnny pipes in. “honestly, who hasn’t been talking about you? i’m surprised you’ve done nothing about it.”

doyoung hums. “she seems like your type, donghyuck! i know some people over at —“

"no! no, don't — " haechan places his champagne glass onto a nearby table abruptly and sighs shakily. "just...don't. sorry, i-i don't feel well. i should go."

confused and concerned eyes watch haechan as he rushes towards the nearest exit. he doesn't bother saying goodbye to taeyong, but makes a mental note to send him an apologetic note tomorrow. haechan sees kim minjeong catch sight of him, and he's sure she's about to make an attempt to stop him to chat with the way she looks at him with a flirty gaze. haechan is quick to turn in the opposite direction and flees out of the nearest door.

haechan's manager comes out soon behind him, frenzied after trying to catch up to a frantic haechan. he doesn't get the chance to ask the latter if he's okay, too occupied with calling their driver upon haechan's request.

"home," he chokes out. he's out of breath and he feels dizzy — whether its from the champagne or from guilt, he's unsure.

"i want to go home."

•°. *࿐

i'm in the crowd, can you see my hand?

haechan has reached the encore of his final show of his tour, yet he still feels a pressure that he cannot explain.

its not from all of his seniors and friends that attended in support of him, he knows that. it's not from the different producers and music artists that flew to seoul for him, either. its a pressure that weighs on his chest that has made him feel unsatisfied with each stage, despite putting 150% effort in everything.

the crowd is going crazy for him after he delivers his final ment, and he takes a moment to soak in it all, in hopes it would give him some peace of mind.

then, his eyes finally spot you.

you, in the back row of some random section, sitting with your manager, with a banner with his name on it and a headband with bear ears perched on top of your head. he doesn't know if you can tell that he's staring right at you, but you start waving around the banner with excitement. haechan can't help but adore you even more than he already does.

time stops for him as he realizes that you're here. through thick and thin you've always been there — what has haechan ever done for you? he hasn't given you even a sliver of what you deserve, yet you've never left him. you stayed when he was a nobody, and even now when he's been terribly selfish, you let him be.

there are thousands of other hands waving at him, but haechan can only see yours.

"actually," haechan starts, quickly silencing the crowd. "there's one more thing i wanted to say."

from your seat, you feel your heartbeat quicken. haechan is still standing and looking into your direction and you know he sees you.

"there's someone very special to me that's here tonight."

your heart stops as you realize what he's doing and you can't help but glance at your manager in a panic. fans around you are murmuring in confusion since haechan had already given a shoutout to his guests.

"they've been by my side since i was writing silly love songs in my childhood bedroom," haechan says, a fond smile taking over his features. "i wrote those love songs about them then, and i still write every love song about them now."

the gasps and shocked noises at his confession fall upon deaf ears — to you, you and haechan are the only two people in the world.

"some of you may know her — she's an amazing music artist as well. far better than me, in my opinion, but maybe i'm a bit biased." haechan sees you laugh and can't help but chuckle too.

"my girlfriend, y/n, is here tonight, and i couldn't be more grateful. wave, y/n!" haechan calls out to you. surprisingly, the camera cuts to you as you wave shyly, hiding behind your haechan banner. even more surprising, the crowd cheers loudly for you.

"isn't she cute?" haechan asks. he's delighted when he sees and hears the rest of the stadium agree.

haechan finally feels that weight lift from off of his chest and he feels like he can breathe. he's happy — ecstatic, even — now that the world finally knows he's yours.

"y/n, you once asked me what i was afraid of, and i said i didn't know," haechan recalls gently. "but i know now." he purses his lips to prevent himself from choking up.

"you've always been so supportive of everything i've done. you've done so much for me and i'm not sure how i could ever repay you." haechan sucks in a sharp breath. "i'm afraid that i'll never truly deserve you."

the crowd coos and some fans in front of you turn around to look at you. you're a mess: tears are streaming down your face, and your hands are shaking. you hide pathetically behind your banner again as your manager wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder.

"i'm sorry for making you wait." haechan puts a hand over his heart, and you do the same. "i love you."

the camera cuts to you again and haechan glances at the monitor to get a better look at you as you mouth something back. haechan doesn't even attempt to conceal his smile or to hold back his tears. there's no use.

"i love you, too."

•°. *࿐

say what you want, this is true romance

“did you really have to mention that, hyuck?”

your boyfriend settles next to you on the couch, arm draping over your shoulder, as you scroll through his recent interview with vogue korea.

you pout at him and he's unable to stop the smile that takes over his face. he pinches your cheek and you quickly swat his hand away.

"what? what did i say?" he rests his chin on your shoulder to read the article for himself.

"i mean, does the public really have to know about me crying on our first date?" you complained. you continued scrolling and laughed as you read. "in what context would you ever have to tell vogue about our matching crayon shin-chan pajama pants?"

haechan laughs and presses a kiss to your shoulder. "honestly, i don't remember half of what i said during this interview. or any of what they asked me." he tugs you a little closer to him so that you're leaning against him, laying the two of you down. "all i know is that i'm pretty sure i started talking about you so much that they just called it a day."

"you're that obsessed with me, huh?" you teased.

haechan scoffs, wrapping both of his arms around you tightly. "obviously."

he watches you open instagram and sees you check the likes on your new post. he gasps dramatically, loosening one arm around you to snatch his phone from his pocket. "you posted?! where was my post notification?" he whines cutely.

he's a little too quick to find your account and he then quadruple clicks the picture to give it a like. "babe, why are your comments off? i was about to get really out of pocket," haechan whines again.

"okay, first, don't do that, please. save some of your dignity," you scold him. "but its because people are mean," you admit softly.

haechan's eyebrows furrow together and his tone stiffens. "who? what did they say?"

you sigh. "no one specific, don't worry. some people are just not too keen about us. your predictions were right, i guess," you attempt to joke, but it only makes haechan upset.

"here, come here," haechan beckons you up with him as he sits up. you're still under one of his arms, which he locks around your neck as he tugs you into his side. you're caught off guard, but lean into him anyway, arms wrapped around his torso. haechan lifts his phone up and takes selfies of the two of you, cheeks pressed together as you both smile uncontrollably.

you're both giggling like two high schoolers fresh into a relationship and you've never felt more happy and in love in your life. haechan presses wet kisses against your cheek before you eventually push his face away. still, he steals one more kiss from you — this time on your lips — and you let him.

"okay, i'm posting all of these," haechan declares casually, leaning back against the couch.

your eyes widen and you reach for his phone in an attempt to stop him, but haechan has already dodged you and raised his hand up. "hyuck, don't."

"why not? i'm in love with you, people just have to deal with it," he shrugs. "anyone who has a problem with us can get blocked."

you fall onto haechan's chest and he gladly wraps you up in his arms again. "you're stupid, but i love you."

"good, because i just posted it."

you peer up at haechan's phone and you see that he was true to his word. all of the selfies you just took piled into one singular post to which haechan captioned 'my heart'. you watch as he scrolls through the comments and blocks anyone with anything bad to say.

"wow, you weren't kidding," you say, amused.

"'course not. these people need to learn true romance." he leans down to kiss you one more time, this time letting the kiss linger. he pulls away but rests his forehead against yours, staring at you with eyes full of love. "i love you, too, by the way."

ੈ♡˳

haechan is popular — without a doubt, he's one of the most sought after guys in the industry. he's confident, charismatic, and he's bright. he's everyone's dream guy, it's no secret.

but, above all, he's yours, and you're his as well. he has devoted his heart and life to you and its not a secret to anyone anymore.

this time around, haechan wraps you up in his scarf to protect you from the cold before the two of you leave.

"i already have a scarf on, hyuck, just keep yours," you mumble from underneath the thick fabric.

haechan doesn't hear you (not just because he literally can't) because he's too focused on zipping up your jacket and tugging your beanie over your ears.

"okay," he says as he intertwines a hand in yours. he clutches the bouquet you made for him proudly in his other arm while he carries your bag and his own over his shoulder. "let's go home!"

its bittersweet as you realize how familiar yet different the situation is. you clutch haechan's hand tighter as he tugs you towards the backstage exit door, outside where the press and his fans are waiting.

he doesn't hide you anymore. no, instead haechan shows you off proudly and wholeheartedly as if it was what he was meant to do.

#bitch im back #nct 127 #nct dream #nct #nct fluff #nct angst #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck #lee haechan #donghyuck x reader #haechan fluff #haechan angst #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck angst #haechan oneshots #nct haechan

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malleleothreesome · 3 months

Text

Fellow Honest Drunken Confession Feat. Playful Land Cast

(Ch.1 & Ch.2)

🌟 summary: Rewriting the end of Playful Land event where instead of Fellow Honest running away, he tries to convince you and your classmates to go out drinking with him. Cause he's super into you. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: gender neutral reader, SFW so far (undecided on the end), fluff, romance. This is a slice of life comedy. You're just gonna have to go into it blind. Take my word for it. You're gonna love it. If you don't, don't tell me. All characters assumed to be of legal drinking age besides Gidel. ༶༶༶ 🌟 inspired by: this ask from @omo-kitty thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

🌟 song: Trust Fund "Oh, where, oh, where is my trust fund? Why can't I get ahead? 'Cause I have to work My daddy's such a jerk For not givin' me all his cash" ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 4.7k

Fellow Honest lets out an exasperated sigh, perched next to you and your classmates as the massive cruise ship that housed Playfulland amusement park sinks into the ocean’s abyss. With his hands clasped behind his head, a carefree grin lights up his face.

"You know what?" He asks, turning to you.

His fox ears twitch atop his head as a salty breeze sifts through his orange hair. Night was encroaching, a half moon suspended in the starry sky, pale and glowing. You stare back into his face, noting the visible points of his fangs, and the tip of his curly orange tail swishing happily.

Fellow winks as he laughs his signature haughty cackle. "Do you want to grab a drink sometime?"

Ace Trappola perks up at the mention of alcohol and barrels forward, face beaming with naivety. "Hey, free drinks? You're talking to the right person, Man. You gonna let us drink free? I mean, it's like, the least you could do for trying to traffic us, am I right?"

Trey Clover hisses, “Ace!!!” in a desperate (and failed) attempt to shut him up.

Fellow regards the spectacle with the blankest of stares, his ear flicking as a whisper of a wince flickers across his visage.

The monster of a man tilts his head and smiles slyly to you—and only you.

His eyes sweep you up and down as he croons, "just you and me, Hot Stuff. We're talking romantic, steamy even. We’re connected… don't deny it. Whaddaya say?"

Fellow steps closer, tongue running along his canines as he looks you up and down with a cheeky grin and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "You, me, alone, drinking, talking... I'll be real good to you—I'm an honest guy! All my business is legit now!"

He throws his head back, and with a flourish of his arms, roars with a particularly raucous laughter. Upon composing himself, his piercing orange eyes turn sharp, and he flashes you another lecherous look. A smirk plays on the corner of his lips, an eyebrow rises suggestively. Fellow leans to whisper in your ear, lingering in the electricity of your aura a bit too long before speaking. You shiver.

His voice drops to a low, suggestive purr as hot breath grazes your neck, "but, if you like, a little bit naughty ain't out of the question... "

Before you can respond, Ace—unable to be subdued by Trey—makes his way back over and elbows you in the arm. As clueless as ever, his freckled cheeks flush bright pink from excitement.

"Free drinks, Bro! He's an underworld mobster, Dude—a high ranking one—we'll be VIPs anywhere we go. We’ll be sipping absolute top shelf… not that gross, warm piss from a barrel everyone else gets!"

Ace is giving the performance of his lifetime, gripping his heart and holding out his arms in utter theatrics, then leaning heavily on your shoulder.

"Free… top shelf… liquor!" Ace shouts to the rest of your classmates, waving them over.

Fellow's eyebrow elevates further, threatening to leave the confines of his forehead. His eyes remain dead, cold. His tail, for once, stays perfectly still, frozen in an upright arch. When his lips part in a rigid smile and his shoulders begin to shake, a venomous displeasure radiates from him, palpable enough for you to feel on your own skin. Out of his mouth spills a jumble of fragmented curse words and giggles. You look at him in mild alarm, unsure if he has finally reached a state of losing his goddamn mind, or if he's about to commit a violent murder—starting with Ace.

Fellow holds up both gloved palms, covering his face. Slowly shaking his head, he doubles over, wiping away tears of hysteria in an uproarious guffaw. You are stunned, staring as Fellow wheezes and struggles to get ahold of his faculties.

Catching his breath, he throws back his head and bellows with unrestrained joy, "The sheer audacity! The unmitigated gumption of this fool—oh my GOD.”

In a valiant effort to calm himself, he holds up his hands, as if praying, a wicked grin plastered across his face. Ace squints suspiciously at his antics, still totally clueless to Fellow's intent. Trey shakes his head slowly, rubbing his face in abject defeat, looking as if he's willing his brain to purge the trauma of ever coming to this place.

Fellow breathes deeply. "Sorry, sorry, it's just funny, oh my God. Wow. He has some balls on him, I'll give him that! I really admire the gall. You know what? This brat might have a career in the biz." The fox beastman reaches out and condescendingly ruffles Ace's head of red hair.

"Alright, tough guy. Yeah, let's go get boozed. And hey, little Bastard—" his fiendish grin takes a more sinister tone, fangs slightly exposed. "Just so you know, if your pathetic college didn't send that sweetheart…” He winks suggestively at you, before his eyes wander across the crowd of students, utterly unimpressed, “I'd never be letting any of you idiots go. No way! I’d have dragged each of you back to my boss by force. Don't test my generosity or my kindness."

Smirking, he shoves his finger into Ace's face, leaning towards him with intent to intimidate.

Fellow takes a sharp inhale and clasps his hands shut. "Now, just for fun, let's get liquored up on the highest rooftop bar, play some poker, do a little dancing..." His eyes flit back over to you— "...maybe some smooches, hey?" A foxy yip punctuates his sentence. His eyes return back to Ace, whose lips are pressed in a firm, disapproving line. Fellow's eyebrow twitches with delight as he takes in Ace's defiance, biting his lip for a second so as not to cackle.

"There isn't going to be any 'VIP treatment,' 'free drinks,’ or 'top shelf.' Is that clear? Who do you think I am? You think I like doing that type of shit?"

He points to the water, gesturing to the decimated remnants of the amusement park. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Kid, people don't do those types of jobs because they're loaded.”

He leans down to get eye level with Ace, using expressive jazz hands and a pompous voice. “'Oh, man, my yacht's all paid off and ready, better become a goddamn kidnapping organ trafficker—oh, the glamor! The luxury!' Do you understand what I'm saying, you dinky little shit?"

You can't help it—you burst out laughing. His grin returns full force, and he winks at you knowingly. He looks back to your classmates, and you consider his movements. The pure self-assurance in his stride, his careless and brazen attitude, his cheeky cockiness—intricate pieces of exactly what drew you to him initially. While his irreverence for any societal construct has both scared and enamored you, the sheer madness he exhibits on a regular basis is so addictive. How could you deny a guy with this level of audacity? You really, really want to give it a whirl—experiment with what might be if you throw caution to the wind.

His smile grows, noting the chagrin across your classmate's faces. Fellow gestures dramatically once more, his gloved hands clawing through the air, his gesticulations growing increasingly overzealous as he waxes poetic on the harsh realities of adult life.

"So, listen up. Listen very carefully. Picture this: I'm poor. I'm scrappy. I was homeless. I don't even own the suit you're seeing right now! My clothes are stolen off the street." His expression darkens, ears and tail drooping, shoulders slumped, and head lowered. For a fleeting, transitory instant, there's an indiscernible emotion that flickers through his eyes—something genuine that betrays his frivolity. "That boy is the only family I have, and we've got nothing to our name."

He stares forward at something only he can see, his gaze boring a hole into the horizon. It is a wistful, haunted gaze, a longing and lost memory in his eyes, a sad sigh that drifts on a gentle summer breeze, lost within its dreams. "Not a single thing. Just the two of us, struggling and barely making ends meet, scraping by in this horrible, unforgiving, greedy world that cares not for the innocent and goodhearted folk. We need to be greedy. Selfish, if we want to keep each other safe. So, excuse me for being just a tad on the offensive side, you entitled fucking brats! I had to be the strongest so I could support the both of us. You truly know nothing about suffering—this isn't a pretty life to have and it isn't fair, yet, what can you do? Adapt, or die. There is no romanticism about hunger, about living like animals, constantly scrambling for scraps of food like the world is a bottomless garbage can and you are its filthiest dog." The sardonic chuckle he gives isn't unkind, merely tinged with bittersweet longing. You reach a hand out, resting it on his shoulder, and his fingers close over it with a soft caress.

There's a touch of vulnerability in his eyes, and his words strike a cord that resonates deeply within your soul. Though it hurts and grieves you, his explanation was enough for you—a starting point of understanding, as you accept him exactly for who he is. You see beyond the facade—the sheer intensity of the desperation that underlines his words and actions, that hollowness within him that yearns for more than the world can provide.

Fellow seemed to awaken with greater purpose when you looked into his soul and told him he didn't have to do bad things. Something shifts in his eyes as he considers new paths. You see the stitches holding his tattered spirit together loosen slightly, revealing glimpses of his raw wounds, the aches and scars that he buries with sarcasm and callousness. His vibrant, intelligent, playful nature deserves more—his life isn't meant to be wasted, yet he feels as if that's precisely what he has done, resigning himself to this existence of bitter hatred against the world. When you meet his gaze, you feel a tenderness blooming in the chilly winter frost of his chest, like the first glimpse of spring. At last, you can sense the farce crumble, and the real Fellow taking shape underneath. You wish you could spend the rest of the evening talking to him.

Fellow's fingers remain intertwined with yours as the moment passes and his flirtation returns. There is an uncanny ease with which the man is able to keep his expression blank while swapping personalities, as if each identity is a costume he wears as long as it suits him. A fleeting look of sadness drifts over him before being replaced by his cheeky, foxy smirk. He reasserts the cocky, irreverent demeanor—his favorite cloak. His orange eyes flit towards yours before gazing into the crowd of your classmates. You squeeze his palm reassuringly, and he beams down at you with gratitude. His finger swipes across your cheek, gently brushing it.

Fellow smiles his carefree smile, but there's a warmth and gentleness behind his orange gaze now.

"All that being said,'' the beastman claps his hands together, grinning widely and putting on another showman's performance, "I bet I could do a little persuading to get us some free booze. We're going drinking, my new friends!" He throws his hands up jovially.

A chorus of voices in front of him ring out in dissonance at the thought, except for Ace—who is whooping and hollering triumphantly, and Kalim, who is cheering in earnest. Before the rest of your classmates have time to voice their objections, Fellow shouts out, pointing at everyone, a finger dramatically extending in the air.

"Ah, ah ah—none of your whining and sniveling bullshit, you snot-nosed punklings. We're all getting our rocks off tonight and it's on me. Consider this the apology tour for almost making you all... well, go into involuntary servitude, to put it lightly."

The corner of his lips twitch as his orange eyes scan the crowd for recognition, yet remain friendly despite his teasing.

"Besides, a celebration is due! What I learned tonight was so startling to me—I did not foresee myself going down an honest path, a career in helping the helpless. This is truly life-altering, and it's all thanks to you folks."

Another moment of vulnerability flickers in his eyes and his mouth is slack, letting the raw honesty and realization of change settle. A stunned silence from the crowd ensues.

Flailing his arms wildly to keep up and air of lightheartedness, Fellow huffs, the first signs of exertion finally showing. He was beaten up pretty badly while trying to detain your classmates, after all. He continues his pitch.

"Of course, no hard feelings or anything. Just a nice fun night, free drinks, music, laughter—how could any of you possibly turn down such a gift?"

With a grin and a gesture to the amusement park's busted entrance gate, he declares his final verdict.

"It is your final day off before a lifetime of school, study, stress and commitment to society—your youth is ending, friends. Embrace this wonderful last sunset of freedom—because by tomorrow, we will all be under the yoke of labor, spending our lives slaving away to pay rent while we deal with taxes and the true horror of capitalism! At least, those without trust funds, right? Hah."

Once more, your classmates all clamor with protests.

"Like Hell I’m goin’ out drinking with that guy! Don't take orders from that shady jackass," Leona roars through the crowd.

Fellow’s scowls, tail swishing vehemently back and forth.

"Ya just met him yesterday and he was about to sell us all off! Does a sociopath's Nice Guy act not make you the least bit suspicious or even nervous? Don't fall for it. No one's that forgivin' or stupid." Leona stares coldly at the conman with an indignant sniff as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

Vil stands with his arms crossed as well, but his posture and expression exude boredom as he blows out an annoyed exhale, visibly judging his idiot classmates. "Unfortunately, I have to agree with Leona once again," he chimes in, ignoring the aggravated huff from the Savanaclaw dorm leader. "Our kidnapper is insistent on buying us drinks? Who does that?! Clearly, this guy has something up his sleeve." Vil clicks his tongue derisively, and flicks his purple hair over his shoulder in dismission.

Floyd, ignoring the forewarnings entirely, throws his arms up happily. He bellows, "hell yeah! What's better than a night of heavy partying to lighten up the mood, right? Bring it on. There's alcohol involved? It’s free? I’m in." He giggles maniacally, wrapping an arm around Fellow to pull him in for an enthusiastic noogie (and completely ignoring the pained squeaks coming out of the conman's mouth). Floyd’s twin brother, Jade, grins in agreement to the proposal.

Trey adjusts his glasses nervously, brows knitting and mouth stuck in a grimace. He opens mouth and closes his mouth a few times before suggesting, with trepidation, “it is... quite unusual for him to take us out drinking all of a sudden... are we sure this isn't some sort of trap, or a game, or—"

Trey is cut off by a loud groan from Ace. "Weren't you guys paying attention?!" Ace shakes his head rapidly and scoffs with derision. "He's obviously trying to get into Y/n's pants! The guy's totally thirsty! How are you not seeing this? He was checking Y/n out when he was doing all that crazy shit in the amusement park."

A tense moment of silence falls across your class as they turn their heads towards you, eyeing you with surprise. "He's been hitting on the prefect this entire time! His weird-ass obsession is for real—no joke or scam. He's interested, I know it when I see it. He knows Y/n's not gonna go unless he takes all of us. So, like... yes, of course I'm into free beer!"

Ace's red eyes gleam like he's just discovered the polio vaccine, proud of his insightfulness and intellect. The other students look back and forth between you and the notorious criminal fox beastman, noting his nonplussed smirk, calm tail wagging, and the way in which his ears prick up in excitement at the conversation about you.

Another uncomfortable moment passes. Your cheeks feel warm, knowing everyone's eyes are still on you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet them.

Kalim claps his hands together and chirps, "oh yeah, come to think of it, he does seem like he's super fond of you! All his cute talk and that sparkle he gets in his eyes when he looks at you and listens to your every word—he clearly really, really likes you, Y/n! That's totally awesome you found someone special in such a dark place!"

Kalim is—almost comically—unaffected by Fellow's unsavory reputation. "And isn't it great if he's truly starting down a righteous path instead of being a bad criminal who hurts and steals from people? We've got to support him, this could be his fresh start! We're his friends, and that's what friends are for—they help each other out. We'll save him from evil!"

Kalim is positively beaming now, his energy infectiously reassuring and radiant. "I’m looking forward to a fun night, count me in!"

Leona scrunches up his face and screws his eyes shut before looking into the distance. It’s as if his consciousness has departed, from the sheer idiocy of this conversation.

“How much has that fuckin' clown got you brainwashed already to make you spout such delusions of grandeur?!" He gapes at Kalim's relentless positivity. "C'mon Jack, we're goin' back. They can handle themselves." Without a backward glance, he walks away, trusting that the freshman will follow suit.

With a short sigh of resignation and a brief incline of his head, Jack follows along in his dorm leader's wake. "Sorry, guys," he murmurs. "I gotta agree with my Housewarden. Something doesn't feel right. Hope to see you all later." The wolf man turns his back and trots to catch up with Leona.

Fellow wears an indecipherable expression as he watches them leave. The muscles around his eye twitch slightly and an ear has flattened against his hair in annoyance. Though Fellow is doing his level best to remain unaffected by the sour reactions, a tiny tendril of disappointment wavers briefly over his features. His resolve steels, yet he keeps his smile, resolutely ignoring their mutterings as his fox tail sweeps side to side. His body language remains relatively casual and open, save for a subtle defensive set in his posture and shoulders. He stands a little taller in an attempt to maintain his cool.

Vil scoffs and walks over to the gate, holding up his perfectly manicured hands in mock surrender. "There's no amount of liquor on the planet worth suffering his disgusting presence or getting tangled in whatever diabolic schemes he's attempting. He's a repugnant vagabond with nothing but deceit and manipulation oozing from his vile, malicious tongue. Y/n, you can do far better—really, anyone with a proper background and education instead of someone from the fringes of society who can't even feed himself."

With a flip of his hair, Vil sniffs dismissively. He gives you one last look of disapproval before strolling away in search of a less irritating place to be.

Ace begins to panic, feeling his chance at free drinks slipping through his fingers. "Wai- Wait- wait, WAIT—everybody STOP," Ace frantically exclaims in desperation. "Come back, you can't just leave! Come on! There’s free alcohol at stake here! Please?! Dammit. UGH!"

Vil's words seemed to hit home. Fellow's unbreakable poker face crumbles as his ears pull down flat against his scalp. His tail stiffens, lowering between his legs in utter humiliation. The fox beastman swallows thickly as the tides of his happiness drain. Gidel scurries up to Fellow and places a hand gently on his back to console his guardian. Fellow tries to plaster a makeshift grin back on, but his pain bleeds through, brow furrowed and eyes darting, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

Ace blinks and smiles awkwardly before muttering, "Well, now I actually feel pretty bad." His freckled face reddens slightly, cheeks taking on a darker tinge of rose as the color creeps out to his ears. A soft, self-conscious laugh tumbles from his mouth. He runs a hand through his copper-red hair, clearly caught somewhere between guilt and shame—internal conflict is evident.

Despite all the flippant, disrespectful comments, teasing and general disregard Ace has shown Fellow, this complete and public emotional breakdown appears to hit Ace harder than he'd care to admit, and perhaps—just maybe—a faint sense of kinship forms at the connection he sees between himself and the conman. Two jovial and clownish individuals—born entertainers. Suddenly, this moment strikes Ace more so than anything else Fellow has said or done thus far, leaving the redhead oddly touched. It’s as if his own heart was personally struck by the kind, selfless soul Fellow seems to be deep down, no matter how hard the foxman tries to keep it buried.

"Listen, man," Ace smiles shyly, shifting from foot to foot with his thumbs stuck in his belt loops. "You know, even if nobody else says it, I, uh... Well... If you're going straight," Ace chuckles, clearing his throat, "like you say, then you're pretty cool. Besides, all your antics are pretty funny. And... The way you really care for him..." Ace stares with admiration, nodding his head towards Gidel, voice low with reverence. His cheeks are completely red now, unable to formulate words, just awkwardly shuffling around trying to escape his own embarrassment.

"You're a... a really good big brother. You know," He sputters, blinking and glancing to the side before slowly looking back at Fellow, and then you. "So... Just forget about Vil's stupid bullshit and move on. Because..." He pauses for a second before nodding assuredly, his confidence growing. "Because you've got plenty to give! It might not feel like it, and sometimes there will be a moment where all seems lost..."

You shake your head in disbelief. Had Ace just openly spoken words of wisdom? Such kind words, too—from him of all people! That, surely, is the sign of an actual miracle happening, since Ace, your dearest friend, is not typically one for… sincerity. ‘Shocking’ would be an understatement. Ace's friendly gaze causes Fellow's orange eyes to grow glassy. Your classmates, equally as stunned, stare at Ace in open astonishment.

Ace presses on with his impromptu speech, conveying the utmost sincerity, "You've got to be strong and push past your misfortune, and not allow yourself to think you're not worthy of love or care." His smile grows warmer and he turns his face to you, making brief eye contact before casting his gaze back towards Fellow. "I just know that somewhere out there, a happy life awaits you... and maybe... there's someone wonderful to share it with."

Now why would Ace allude to you when you haven't even decided your feelings yet? You quickly turn around to conceal the rising flush in your cheeks. You’re somewhere between mortified and thrilled for Ace to publicly express his support of your romance. Nerves flood your stomach—the anticipation, the prospect of falling in love has made you equal parts anxious and giddy. A mixture of euphoria and despair hits you all at once—how beautiful to acknowledge your affections for the fox man—yet, can you commit?

You look over at Cater and mouth with abject horror: 'What the fuck is going on?'

Cater looks thoroughly entertained by the entire event, flashing you a thumbs up. He bites his lower lip, silently giggling to himself. He snaps a picture of you on his phone—the audacity.

Cater mouths back, “looks like someone has a cru-ush.”

Your face displays all of your confusion. “Stop—shh—be serious, this is real,” you whisper, stifling a tiny, strained giggle and putting an end to the banter by sternly holding out your index finger.

This is too much—too fast—you feel helpless, swept up in the stormy waves of fate and romance. One single day has dragged on and on, as if stretched forever by the overwhelming events of your trip. Even Fellow's unexpected change of heart is but a fleeting part of some fever dream—it couldn’t have all been real. An insane whirlwind romance, a kidnapping, a deadly amusement park, and a desperate con artist—who you’ve become increasingly drawn to. This has been one of the strangest experiences of your entire life.

Glancing quickly over your shoulder, you catch Gidel grinning and bouncing happily, his eyes bright with energy, seemingly thrilled at the idea of you and Fellow becoming partners. His excitement is contagious, and it only adds fuel to the fire in your heart. To know the little boy holds high hopes for the two of you—maybe something is already blooming? Blood pounds in your veins and a tightness builds in your chest, causing your heartbeat to drum ever faster as Fellow takes a step toward you.

He gently turns you to face him. His grip is strong, yet soft. A twinge of hope tugs at the corners of his lips, though his posture betrays his vulnerability and fear of rejection. His interest in you is palpable, and the seriousness of the impending moment makes you want to run away. As hesitant as you are to admit it, you definitely feel a connection to this man—one beyond lust. A deeper bond transcends physical attraction, as if your hearts are bound, stitched with a million red puppet strings of fate. With each pump of blood, another thread pulls taut, drawing the two of you closer together.

You're nervous, embarrassed, and entirely unsure of what you want. In an attempt to stall, you address your remaining classmates. "Well, I sure could use a drink right now! How about it?" Slight panic italicizes your statement.

Ace raises his hands in the air with triumph. "Fuck yeah," he laughs, looking around eagerly. Cater looks relieved to have the perfect excuse to drink a ridiculous amount of booze without getting nagged by Riddle for acting inappropriate. Trey sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in a strained manner, as if resisting another stress-related aneurysm. He nods with resignation that he won't be back at Heartslabyul any time soon, committing himself to making sure none of the trouble-making underclassmen get up to their usual antics of havoc, mayhem and chaos. You catch Trey mutter, "I will definitely regret this," to himself, but you still allow a surge of gratitude wash over your anxious heart at his kind gesture.

Lilia's laughter rings out, the night breeze sweeping back his hair to reveal a playful grin. "The Pop Music Club is always down for a fun time. This will be the perfect opportunity for me to show Kalim and Cater how to really party! Oh, what a splendid evening this will be," he gleams, patting his clubmates heartily on the shoulders. They both gulp, nervous about his declaration.

The gentle moonlight reflecting off the ocean catches Lilia's irises in a breathtaking display of shimmering crimson. In a flash, he materializes in front of Fellow, nearly scaring the poor fox out of his skin. Lilia's lips are curled in a wide, sly smile and he stares deep into his soul.

After a moment of silence, he narrows his eyes and clicks his tongue, stepping forward and speaking conspiratorially. "But tell me the truth. What really is the score on this entire set-up?" The sinister, terrifying nature Lilia exhibits makes Fellow's ears tremble and tail swish madly in defense, eyes large and alert. Fellow lets out a nervous yelp, frozen as the staring contest commences. After what appears to be some type of mental standoff, the vampire's demeanor eases.

Lilia puts a comforting arm around Fellow and hugs him to his side, eyes glowing brighter. "Ah, young love! So fun to watch! You two have my blessing," Lilia beams at the stupefied Fellow, whose ears still lay flat against his scalp in terror. His tail is tucked tightly between his legs in an act of submission, a concession of defeat.

With that, your classmates trail out of the boardwalk, away from the ruins of the defunct Amusement Park. Their loud banter fills the night air, a jovial cacophony of nonsense and delirium. Fellow places one hand between Gidel's shoulder blades to gently guide him along, and he extends his other to you, silently inviting you to interlace your fingers with his. His expression is relaxed and expectant—but his eyes show his nerves. His smooth, gloved palm envelops your hand and together, the three of you follow your classmates.

🌟 song: Violence (Club Mix) - Grimes ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 1.8k

The dark streets of the city are lit in an amber glow from the many shops that stay open late, with neon signs boasting special deals and hot food creating a gorgeous rainbow of flashing colors in the night. Bustling crowds move briskly, pouring in from all directions. They mill around, eager to engage in the nightlife of the entertainment district, excited to partake in their desired sins. You follow a group of partygoers through an arching entranceway that has the phrase 'Hell's Den' lit above the metalwork in garish crimson lights. Passing underneath the grand entrance and entering the gaudy exterior is another world of sound, color and light—a vibrancy not meant for the meek. The entirety of the complex is covered with glowing tiles, casting a radiant aura in such a dazzling fashion it reminds you of a place in your home world: Las Vegas.

Welcoming aromas of cigarettes, alcohol, and cheap cologne, and the buzzing, neon atmosphere draws a content sigh from Fellow. The wide array of faces passing by—all of them new and shining with happiness, seeking to escape their own respective realities. There is something inspiring about this bustling den of iniquity. The electricity that percolates within the underground is like a shot of adrenalin. It's pure magic. It is no wonder all of this serves as an irresistible lure for those craving freedom. In this night-city, any sinner can find solace.

As you pass the main foyer of Hell's Den, an enormous set of double doors lies ahead. Three large, burly bouncers loiter at the entrance and peer closely at you all.

"Now what do we have here?" the bouncer booms, zeroing in on Gidel. The bouncer points towards the kid, accusatory. "Ain't he a little young for this joint?"

All heads turn towards Gidel, who stands proud and fearless in the face of these mountainous men. While most everyone else shifts nervously, Gidel plants his little hands on his hips and looks up at the bouncers unabashed, pursing his lips in an indignant pout and giving an extra little sassy bob of his head. He stands his ground with the cold, fierce and commanding presence of someone much older. The way his stance radiates authority, even in the face of danger, is both admirable and comical. The usual slouching and youthfulness of his mannerisms and body language are totally eradicated as the imperious stare he fixes on the bouncers bears down. Gidel is a fearless soldier—a fiercely determined, stalwart pillar in the face of adversity, daring the guards to deny him passage.

"You wound me, good sir," Fellow puts a gloved hand to his heart in a mock sign of hurt. "Of course, he is of drinking age. How insulting!" He levels them with his withering orange gaze. The muscle men shift uneasily at his silent challenge—the cocky facade is his customary tactic for warding off hostilities before they could grow and take root. "This here," he grabs the glowering Gidel, patting the child proudly on the head, "is the eldest of our party." The bouncers look at each other, then at the boy, then back to Fellow. The sheer absurdity of Fellow's statement is undeniable—no reasonable person would buy it.

Fellow goes on. "Cater, are you seeing this shit? Discrimination, in this day and age? Put these nitwits on blast," Fellow gestures to Cater's phone, and Cater begins filming. Gidel points aggressively at the bouncer, shaking his little index finger with the might of his wrath, as Fellow declares loudly, "I want everyone to know—this place is not welcome to those of different social stations, based on age or appearance. This is preposterous!" He turns his attention back to the bouncers, widening his arms to the gathering crowd.

"Bigotry, ageism, it's so awful! No wonder Gidel hides the fact that he's over 2,000 years old. Now I see why the man refuses to share the wisdom he's collected, the amazing anecdotes and experiences, and the undeniable brilliance he could impart upon the world—instead, he hides, ashamed, all due to the abuse he receives on a daily basis from these types of buffoons!"

The surrounding individuals stare in stunned silence. "It's not Gidel who is the child here, but all of you. People should not be judged so harshly due to their appearance. Everyone should be accepted—their ideas, actions, and experiences embraced with respect, despite physical differences that set them apart. Everyone must be loved and appreciated, for there are precious gems everywhere we look in this beautiful world. The rich, diverse community of people who inhabit this planet should be able to share with all, learn from one another and work together in unity, free to be who they are without harassment!"

The neon light catches fresh tears running down various faces in the crowd. To add further insult to the bouncers’ injuries, Royal Sword Academy's Seven Dwarves—who happened to be waiting to get into the same bar—stare daggers at the gatekeepers and gather near Gidel in solidarity. Their angry, diminutive stature radiates powerful force when unified against a common enemy—it is truly a frightening sight to behold.

In one single swoop, Fellow swings public opinion in Gidel’s favor, inciting rage to right the wrong. The fervor of the crowd continues to rise. "Please, show our precious elder the respect he deserves. Do not look at him and see a mere child—look into his eyes to the aged visage beneath." His orange gaze bores into the guards. "Can you not sense his inner radiance, the power and splendor of his soul, and the treasures locked away within? Don't allow your prejudices and expectations to hold him back. Or you, for that matter. The sheer fact of his youthful appearance is no obstacle to greatness! And as long as you carry this narrow-minded sentiment, you will forever be barred from ever knowing the greatest secrets of the universe. Remember, folks! In the end, it isn't your status, money, or popularity that ultimately leads to a better future! It's our kindness, compassion, and tolerance." The conman punctuates his powerful speech with a satisfied swish of his fluffy tail, and the crowd cheers wildly in approval.

Cater is eating this up. His thumbs frantically type out a lengthy post that ends with his signature sparkling diamond hashtags, creating the most glorious online discourse.

Trey is lost in thought, muttering to himself, "he does have the right idea, maybe he'd make a good Headmage after all."

Kalim stares intently, with a faraway gleam in his eye, utterly entranced by Fellow. He’s just about ready to sign up for a personal tutoring session on the topic of the Universal Principles.

The rest of your classmates have the most deadpan expression on their faces, looking at each other and silently communicating how deeply uninterested they all are at witnessing this bizarre, disturbing spectacle for the umpteenth time.

The guards can’t hide their bewilderment, and they reluctantly backpedal to let your group inside. You and Cater share a mischievous smile, impressed at Fellow's antics.

Your devious fox pulls you flush to his body, ushering you into the club with a sly wink. "Shall we, dearest Y/n? Let’s make our debut, hmm?" He smirks in the direction of his brother as he spins you around, all while moving backwards into the bar. He bows deeply and gestures elegantly, indicating you should head inside first. You can't help giggling, covering your mouth to conceal the toothy grin that betrays your giddiness as you make your way inside. His eyes travel up and down your frame, marveling at your swaying hips, devouring every curve. His suggestive tongue wets his bottom lip before he bites it, fangs now visible. You're almost ashamed of how attracted you are to him.

Your classmates follow like ducklings trailing a parent, curious to see where the night will take them and if any of it will be blackmail-worthy. How amusing. They muffle laughter at Fellow's narcissistic flamboyance and over-exaggerated antics, taking note of every ridiculous attempt to woo you. A few pretend to gag, exchanging distressed, strained expressions—a theatrical attempt to shove down the raw, unbridled horror they feel at the thought of having to live through another performance of the clown show.

You're not even sure if he wears a persona—a true entertainer, for the thrill of it all—or if he's trying on sincerity for once. You suspect he's a walking caricature of his own making. Even so, the raw energy and manicured showmanship are alluring. His penchant for high-pitched laughter and dramatized emotion adds levity to an otherwise dark situation—something about it really tickles you. His potentially-feigned amusement lights up his impossibly expressive face in a manner that is genuinely contagious.

Slowly taking in your surroundings, your mouth falls slightly open. This was no ordinary dive bar—this was a full on club. A disco ball hangs from the ceiling, dispersing kaleidoscopic beams of color and light throughout the space. The rhythm throbs, perfectly synced with the strobe—each flash of luminescence reveals a slightly new scene. Sweaty bodies bend and sway to the thumping, seductive beat—you’re so ready to join them. Every face around you morphs into carefree bliss. From behind you, Fellow's presence is electrifying, playfully tracing his fingertips across the curve of your lower back as he leads you to the bar. His hand lightly smacks your ass, as if in approval, and your face warms. The effervescent air and residual excitement of escaping death creates an aphrodisiac unlike anything you’ve experienced. The pulsing bass, Fellow's slightly-territorial hand on your hip, and his sensual gaze makes your heart thump erratically. An aching want—no, need—simmers beneath your skin.

"May I get you a drink?"

Fellow's soft words pull you from your daze, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes appraises your dilated pupils. His toothy grin widens.

"You prefer sweet, don’t you? I know just the thing."

He studies you lasciviously.

"Freshly-squeezed juices and top shelf liqueurs always do the trick. I just love the taste of cherries."

He brings his hand up to your cheek, the pads of his fingers hovering over the shell of your ear before landing around a stray tendril of hair. He twirls the silky strand between his gloved fingers and tucks it gently behind your ear. Tantalizing.

"Yes, please. That sounds delicious."

You giggle nervously, unable to break eye contact. You hadn’t noticed how full his lips were—the bottom pout most inviting. You hope he doesn't notice you gulp.

Somehow, the man's smile grows even bigger. He takes your hand in his, clasping it tightly and bringing it up to his mouth to plant a soft, chaste kiss.

"Wait right here for me, won't you, my dear? I'll be back in a heartbeat."

With a spin, he dances his way through the crowd towards the bartender, expertly navigating the chaos. You stand there dumbfounded, unable to keep the affection from blossoming in your chest; full, red, and so tight that you're afraid it might burst.

Hi, it's me again. Erica. The girl who said "my goal for 2024 is to spend the whole year writing!" Yeah. Sorry about that. Turns out that life sucks and writing is hard. I'm doing my best out here, though. I hope y'all enjoy this one! This shit really makes me laugh, so I hope you laughed too. If you want to create any art based on a scene from this, PLEASE do. I've already started working on chapter 3. I hope it won't take me forever to finish this story but, I'm really just taking my time with it. By "it" I mean, you know, getting to the whole point of this request, which is where Fellow Honest drunkenly confesses to you. But as you can see, we are going on a whole journey, here. I hope you love it! That's why I'm calling it a slice of life. I hope I get to talk to you all again really soon, in my next writing, which I hope... will be... soon. Love you all dearly, ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome. P.S. I'll be at Anime Expo at the beginning of July. Come say hi!

213 notes · View notes

ancha-aus · 5 months

Text

Double Trouble... switched?

A tiny little thing for a lovely artist who's comics and art brings me much joy and inspiration.

Inspired by the lovely: @somegrumpynerd

And specifically this post, and this comic :3

Have fun :D

Warning, Very unedited and just me having fun ;P

(also most work was actually finding the posts to make the links work now enjoy this fanfic of which I will admit it took a few hours but I will not tell you how many words as I got no idea. Because I wrote the whole thing on tumblr and got no word counter here. Enjoy :D)

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dream knew something was wrong the moment he woke up.

His magic... it was being prickled by something. Over and over and over. It felt a bit like the sting of negativity but different.

That can't be right.

Drema struggled to full awareness as his mind tried to think of the reason why he felt the way he did.

Normally he only felt these type of prinkles and pain when he was near a lot of negativity but it had to be a lot a lot. As in, Nightmare using his own aura to fight him a lot.

But as he used his own magic of empathy he only felt a soft contentment and easy happiness in the air.

Had... Had the fight with Nightmare have afteraffects after all?!

They last fight, the one of the day before, had left Dream drained and tired. Nightmare and him had been fighting and Dream had tried to use his aura to get Nightmare to stay still and listen to him. Dream hadn't expected Nightmare to use his own magic aura. More surprising had been the fact that Nightmare's aura didn't clash with his own but instead reached him. It had burned and as Dream had said, he felt drained afterwards.

Dream hadn't thought too much off it. Especially as Nightmare had seemed exhausted and confused by it as well and he had quickly retreated afterwards.

But maybe Dream had been wrong.

Why else would he still feel this discomfort when there was nothing but positivity around him?

Dream groans as he finally manages to sit up in the very soft bed with many many pillows. Weird, Dream didn't have this many pillows on his bed and neither does Blue. Maybe Ink painted some more for them? Thoguth Ink rarely joined in on their sleepovers and Dream can't remember seeing Ink the day before.

Worse is that he feels disbalanced. Nothing feels right at the moment and the discomfort is making him cranky. He should just find Blue. Blue always makes everything better and has great ideas on what to try.

Yes, his best friend will help.

Dream opens his sockets only to stare in shock.

This... is not his room.

It isn't any room he recognizes.

It is a large beautiful place with a large, very large, bed with way too many pillows and soft blankets. There is a large bookcase just filled with books. The curtains are dark and shut. Next to him is a tiny alarm clock which reads that it is still very early in the morning.

Something else about his vision is off but Dream can't quite place it. Something that should be obvious but he can't make sense of it. He turns to the side and reaches for the bed only to freeze.

That is corruption. On his hand. And arm.

Dream feels himself start to panic as his soul pulses fast. Oh no. Oh no. What happened?! Calm down. Calm down-

Then he sees one of those corruption tentacles nad Dream flinches away, only to completely loose his balance and fall over sideways with a quiet yelp.

He lays frozen but can't feel any curiosity or hear anyone react.

He is starting to have an idea where he is and he isn't sure how to feel about this.

He slowly crawls to the side of the bed, only to keep misjudging the distance and he thinks he lost his depth perception which isn't good news.

He manages to get out of bed and only slightly panics at the sight of his own legs covered in corruption. Are it his own legs even?!

Dream pushes himself upright only almost fall over and he has to grab one of the poles of the large four poster bed to catch himself. He looks over his shoulder and is confronted with the sight of four tentacles shifting and idling behind him, all seemingly coming from his own back.

Dream takes a few unsteady steps and softly curses the way this feels. How does Nightmare DEAL with his tentacles?! How does he deal with the extra weight of it on his spine?! Dream already feels uncomfortable.

Dream manages to get to one of the two doors and opens it. He lets out a sigh of relieve when sees the bathroom. He flicks on the ligth in the room and manages to get to the mirror.

There in the mirror stands Nightmare. Staring at him in absolute shock.

Dream... Is in Nightmare's body.

Which means.

He is not at home.

Dream is in Nightmare's home.

-------

Nightmare tries to walk wiht confidence but it still takes effort to not overbalance for his lacking extra limbs.

When he woke up feeling comfortable and energised he had immediantly panic. He normally only felt that after they managed to make an universe fall fully into negativity and shift the balance.

Feeling that at home meant his boys felt unhappy and miserable and he would not have that.

Imagion his surprise when he sat up only to be in a completely different room and after a glance outside to realise he was in the Omega Timeline.

The one place he never had managed to get somekind of access too.

Nightmare wanted out right now because it didn't take a genius to figure out what happened.

Dream's and his magic had interacted strangly and connected with each other. Both had felt drained. Now Nightmare was in Dream's body.

Meaning, Dream was most likely in Nightmare's body. Meaning Dream was in Nightmare's hideout with his boys.

Nightmare didn't have time to panic or to have a crisis. He needed to somehow get to his own body and make them switch back. His minions needed constant supervision and management. Nightmare only just got Dust to agree to set an alarm clock and Horror had been improving with overeating.

He needed to get to them.

Which meant.

Be the perfect Dream so no one would think something was wrong and enable him to sneak out and search for himself.

This is starting to get annoying.

Nightmare had gotten dressed in Dream's clothes and got ready to leave.

Only for Blue to have shown up.

Which is what brought Nightmare to were he was now. Trying and struggling to maintain a facade he hadn't had time to prepare.

"You sure you are okay Dream?" Blue keeps staring at him as if he expects Nightmare to just spill the beans.

Wait. Does Dream do that? Does Dream just tell Blue everything? Probably right? But what do they normally talk about?

Nightmare is honestly unsure what it is that is between his brother and Blue. Nightmare knows that Blue and Dream are always together and Dream seems rather protective about Blue.

Nightmare realises he is taking too long to answer and puffs up his chest and speaks, being thankful for the small amount of luck there is for him in this multiverse that the voice he speaks with still sounds like Dream "Of course I am alright! It is a wonderful day and I want to spend it heloing others!" Dream and his ever need to please people and be liked.

Blue continues to grin at him, one brow slightly raised "Wowie! you are in a good mood today! Happy to hear you seem alright after the fight from yesterday."

Nightmare nods "But of course! Now! Lets get to work." and he starts walking. Only slightly falling fore over as he tries to balance for soemthign that isn't there.

"Dream!" Blue is by his side and tries to help him upright. The worry around him is slightly surprising.

Nightmare holds up a hand as he tries, and succeeds to steady himself. Old memories return of how to walk without his tendrils. He got this. "I am fine. Just a slight misstep... shall we?" Wait, how does Dream speak anyone? All the interactions Nightmare can remember were from them in battle. Which Ngihtmare knows is not a good reference for when you speak casually with others. The last interactions that Nightmare had with Dream wihtout fighting were... were from back at the tree... when both had been 6 and before their magical growth.

...

Ngihtmare doubts Dream still acts as his six year old self, even if he sometimes seems just as naiev to the world.

Blue frowns at him "If you are sure. You sure you want to go out already?"

Nightmare nods "But of course!"

Blue gives him another grin "Well. If you are sure. Let's go!"

----------------

Dream doesn't know what to do or say.

What do you say to your enemies when you are suddenly in their boss's body, who happens to be your twin. like. How do you decide what to say?

Dream tries to remain quiet and just watch. That is probabyl what Ngihtmare does right? Just watch and glare and tell them to not bother him?

Their happiness is burning him. That he has realised.

Dream had wanted to tell them he is going to take a moment for himself but then second guessed himself. How much would Nightmare tell them? Would he tell them that their happiness burns him? Would he be honest? Would he even tell them? Or would he just stand up and leave? Were those four expecting him to give them orders? To tell them what to do? Or would a simple 'go do your work' do?

Drema had never realised that positivity burned his brother this badly.

Did... did that mean that being around Dream burned him as well? That going near him at all in battle was as if he was being burned?

Dream knows his aura can get... a lot. but... He never considered... He never thought...

Only extreme negativity hurt Dream and all positivity energised and powered him...

If low levels of positivity already hurt his brother... would only extreme levels of negativity energise him? Would only extreme levels feed him?

Was... was Nightmare attacking AUs not as much an attack on the multiverse but more of a way to feed himself? To keep himself alive?

Dream just... didn't know.

"Boss! boss! what do you think? Awesome right!"

Dream eneds a moment to realise Killer is talking to him. Dream looks over and freezes at the knife Killer is tapping between his phalanges with a concerning speed.

Dream sits there frozen before panic overtakes his soul "What do you think you are doing?! Stop that right now before you hurt yourself!" only to realise that he spoke form panic and worry. Oh no he totally messed up! Dream wasn't thinking and-

Killer pouts but lays the knife down. Horror snorts "Told you boss would be unimpressed and mad at you for practising that."

Killer mutters something about it being cool and Nightmare just being a worrywart.

Dream blinks. Excuse but Nightmare is a what now?

Cross looks at him "What is the schedule for today boss?"

Killer snorts and copies the sentence at a softer volume but in a sillier voice.

Dream can't imagine that would be allowed but before he can even think of a fitting reaction or answer one of Nightmare's tentacles moves over to Killer's skull and gives him a soft tap.

Dream feels mortified. What do you mean those tendrils just... do that?! Dream hadn't even thought or considered that! Wait... Was... Was the corruption still negativity and so technically Nightmare... Was it like a muscle memory and so instinct for his body to do that? That implies that Nightmare has done that a lot.

Killer pouts more and crosses his arms befroe he mumbles "Fine fine. I get it. I get it. Sorry Crossy."

Crossy beams and the happiness stings Dream as Cross answers "Apology accepted!" then Cross looks at him with bright sockets "But what will we do today boss?"

Dream glances around the room as he tries to think of something that would fit. He has no idea what Nightmare does when he isn't out fighting him. Dream remembers the books in Ngihtmare's bedroom but Dream doesn't want to lock himself in there. He will go insane and just not know what to do. He needs an excuse to search around the castle. Something that will fit with their vision of Nightmare.

"I... need to... research a few things for our next... raid." Dream tries to desperately remember what Nightmare sounded like and which words he used. Dream thinks his lucky stars that Nightmare's body still sounds like Nightmare.

Cross nods "okay! Need our help with anything?"

Dream slowly shakes his skull as he tries to follow their emotions to see if he is managing to sell this. "No. I should have what I need." Okay, good so far, now how to say he will get them if he needs help. euh... "If I have need... of you. I know where to find you." That should work... right?

Killer nods as he is already out of the room and gone with a shout "Going to the cats!"

What does he mean CATS?!

Cross nods "Okay! in your office?"

office? office! An office will no doubt have information that will hopefully help Dream. Dream nods as anwer and Cross seems to accept it before he goes around grabbing the plates.

Horror asks him if he wants lunch together or brought up and Dream can feel the stress rise. damnit why are these four so focussed on Nightmare? They turn to him for everything! It makes Dream miss Blue. Blue knows what to do when and helps him more than anything.

Dream ends up saying together. Seeing as they straight up called and pulled him over for breakfast that is probably the go to. Horror seems pleased by this and nods as he starts cleaning the food in a careful manner.

Dust has just been staring at him with a frown on his face.

Dream stares back and feels the need to look away but Nightmare wouldn't look away. Dream waits and waits.

Dust huffs before leaving wihtout much of a word. Dream will take that as a win.

Dream leaves the kitchen and sees Dust disappear into another room, Dream can hear the sounds of a tv coming from there and will assume Killer is in there.

Okay... Now...

Where the hell is everything? He has no idea what the layout is of this place and it was pure luck he even found the staircase that morning to begin with.

He makes his way back to the staircase and follows it up. He makes sure he isn't watched or followed before starting to silently open doors to check what is behind each one.

Why did his brother have to be dramatic and get a castle?!

--------------

Nightmare hates this.

His cheeks are starting to hurt from the constant smiling. It is emotionally and mentally exhausting to be happy all the time. No one leaves him alone and everyone seems to have something they very pressingly need Dream's help for.

Which. Meant you. Are not important things!!

Dream needs a better work/home balance and learn to say no.

Nightmare can't even just return to the house that is, probably, Dream's and just hide for a moment because Blue has been by his side the whole time.

Nightmare will admit he is starting to get why Dream likes Blue so much adn seems so protective of him. Blue is a beacon of positive energy and motivation. Blue also seems happy to help Dream with anything and everything.

Honestly at this point Blue is the only reason why Ngihtmare hasn't started losing his mind at Dream just yet.

Everyone around him. the whole time. noise or people and their emotions. the pressure of everyone looking at him and trying to get his help. The amount of people trying to just stand next to him and soak up some of that positive aura is disgusting.

Nightmare has half the mind to kidnape his twin just to make sure that he knows he can actually say 'No' and tell people to piss off because it is starting to get concerning.

Nightmare hasn't had the impulse to throw this many people through windows in a while.

One more person from somekind of universe runs up to him "Dream Dream! I need your help!"

Nightmare has to take a very deep breath as he tries to control his temper. easy and calm. easy and calm. He manages to pull the smile back full force and turns to them "But of course! Happy to help. What do you need help with?"

The person smiles "Well! I wanted to do my grocerries but I ended up not going because I was watching this movie and it was jsut so good! Anyway. Would you mind doing my grocerries for me?"

Deep breaths Nightmare. Deep breaths.

The person continues on "The next part just started and I also really want to see that but by the time that one finishes the store will be closed!"

Deep. Breaths.

They continue the smile "And obviously I will pay you back later but-"

"No."

they blink. Nightmare stares back.

They frown "Waht? Why not?"

Nightmare honestly tries to keep it in but why would he? This is an idiot and they deserve to know "Because this is a result of your own neglect of your responsibilities and I don't see why it would then be up to me to fix this. Especially as you yourself still have the chance to do it yourself. But instead you are trying to use me and get an easy out. Not only that but you are also asking me to pay for this?"

The slowly cross their arms "You enver minded before..."

Anger. Rage. Nightmare manages to just stare "Well I mind now. Do it yourself. If you are adult enough to live on your own wihtout supervision you should be able to take care of yourself." Nightmare turns and walks away.

The person is enraged at him and Nightmare feels very smug about it. The person shouts after him "You are being a real asshole there Dream! And very selfish!"

Ngihtmare just keeps walking. don't commit murder in Dream's body. that is a very sure way to get others to notice you are not him.

Blue still walks with him and Nightmare glares "What?"

Blue blinks and tilts his skull "I am just happy you are finally starting to take my advice to not help everyone with everything. You gotta limit yourself or get burned out." Blue stops him and stares at him worried "Are you finally ready to tell me what is wrong Dream? I am worried about you..."

Nightmare considers what to say before sighing "I need a break." weak. Nightmare just, can't handle this. The constant demands and people asking him to do things. It is different with his boys. the real happiness they feel for him may sting slightly but it is real. The happiness of these people. It just isn't truly on that same level. There is no actual affection or care or even understanding behind it. It is about possession and demand and feeling like they earned it.

While they earned nothing.

How does Dream deal with them?

Blue nods "Yeah. Lets go to my place. People are less likely to bother you there. and If anyone asks I will just tell them you are sick."

Nightmare stares at Blue "I don't get sick. I can't get sick."

Blue snorts "Dream. The only three people in the whole multiverse that know that are, you, your twin, and me. If anyone asks we tell them you are sick." and he grins.

Ngihtmare stares at Blue for a moment "You are the only being in the multiverse with a functioning brain."

Blue snorts and laughs "Nightmare will be happy to hear you say that Dream." and he grins widely.

Nightmare snorts himself, a little inside joke just for him, "I know what I said."

They manage to find Core for a ride. Ngihtmare is relieved by that as he hasn't quite figured out how Dream makes portals just yet. Luckily Blue had decided for him that they would catch a ride instead of trying one themselves.

-----------

Dream reads through another report on the changes and shifts in the balance between positivity and negativity. another one that Dream had thought had been an attack agaisnt the multiverse but instead this report spoke about the high positivity levels making the universe unstable and them having to shift it.

The report speaks of a mild success and mentions a message to Error that this universe could be skipped for destruction for a while as they had managed to make it stable enough to last it a bit longer.

So many reports. So many universe which had been unbalanced.

Compared to all the reports Drema had read until now only about 10% spoke about getting higher negativity levels for Nightmare or getting supplies in a raid.

Everything else? All about universes that needed rebalancing and a shift in the right direction to keep them stable.

Dream leans back in the chair and yelps as the tendrils ache. He looks up adn groans as he sees the tentacles once again completely braided together. He doesn't want to have to try to undo it again and-

"Sup Boss!"

Oh are you kidding him?!

Dream had thought the people in the Omega timeline could be pushy or clingy. But it is nothing on these four. They just. Keep showing up!

It is like they are taking shifts! Dream manages to get one out and a new one will show up within 15 minutes.

Dream sighs and looks up "Waht do you want this time you. you..." you... you... Dream doesn't want to be mean. But Ngihtmare probably insults them... right? "Worms."

Cross's whole face turns sad and worried "Worms?" Oh Dream feels so bad about this. Oh no he looks so sad and hurt and why did Dream say that?

Killer however grins widely "worms! new nickname lets go!" he grins widely

Horror just looks at him with a raised brow "You okay boss?"

Dream feels himself get anxious as he tries to channel some stern face but he is unsure how well he is managing "what is it?"

Cross just keeps looking down at the floor with a sad expression as he mutters the word 'worms' to himself.

Horror looks back "Oh Killer pushed Dust down the stairs."

Drema blinks before looking at Killer "You did what?!"

Killer grins widely as he throws out his arms "I would never!"

A second later a very angry Dust shows up "He so did! The asshole pushed me!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not times infinity! Hah! I win!"

Dust glares and tries to tackle Killer but Dream, or lets be real Nightmare's tentacles, stop him and catch Dust mid air.

Dream takes a few breaths but he gives up "No pushing each other down the stairs! I can't even believe i need to say this!"

Horror speaks up "Again."

Dream feels himself stand up straighter "Again?!" luckily all of them seem to not hear the question in his outraged cry as Killer nods with a pout and Dust just huffs.

It is slightly concerning how unbother Dust looks by being up in onf of those tentacles.

Dream rubs his face as he tries to keep his spinning thoughts calm "I am going to be quick about it. I want all four of you to behave for ten minutes so I can look through my reports and figure out where to go to next!"

His brother had so many reports. If Dream could find some positive universe and spread a tiny bit of negativity then Nightmare, in Dream's own body, would feel that and come to Dream and then Dream can try to get them to switch back.

Silence answers him and he looks up to see all four of the gang look at him and nod. Dream waits for a moment before nodding himself "Good!" He has to focus on the tentacle and imagines it putting Dust down before it actually listens. The tendril seems unwilling to let Dust go.

Dream takes a deep sigh and sits back at Nightmare's desk as he starts reading through reports. He looks back up only to see all four of the gang relaxing around him and Nightmare's desk.

Dream rubs his face. considers going against it before just going wiht the flow. Fine! if they want to watch him read reports so be it! Dream turns back to the many reports as he tries to figure out which place would be best. By the stars Nightmare has so much information and he straight up has a whole catagory on different universes and what key differences are and how to spot these when first entering an universe.

There is just so much knowledge and understanding about all of these universe. Nightmare even took time ot learn which universes are most likely to interact. to cross over. or to even be able to hold a stable connection to serve as trading route.

Dream looks up and spots that those stupid tentacles had moves again! Each of them holds one of the four gang members and Dream is trying to think on how to put them back down.

Then he sees all four of them... asleep. peacefully asleep as they lay either rolled up in the tentacle or seem to hug them in their sleep.

Dream stares for a moment and wonders just how often this happens for that to be the natural reaction before he turns back to the reports. the answer has to be in these.

----------

Nightmare feels the spike of negativity as soon as it happens. It si fear from somewhere in the multiverse and he sits up straight.

Blue looks over worried "Dream?"

Nightmare knows it within a second with absolute certainty "My brother." it is dream. Dream has entered an universe and is... causing fear?

Maybe a trap. Or... a beacon.

Blue frowns at him "Are you sure you are ready for this Dream? I don't think you are... fully rested yet."

Nightmare is already up and nods "I am sure." Now the hard part. He focusses on the magic so much like his own but different. the only thing that is avaiable to him is Dream's magic and it will have to do. He focusses on the positivity and wills it to open a connection to where he feels the spike of negativity.

A portal opens before them.

Blue nods as he grabs his hammer "Let's go."

They step through together and Nightmare looks around. He is quick to spot himself.

Nightmare glares as he crouches low before he is off like a bullet right at his own body. The shock on his own face is satisfying.

More satisfying is tackling himself as he and Dream tumble down the sloop into the overgrowth behind it.

Dream yelps and tries to retaliate but Nightmare knows his own body and his own limits. Nightmare is quick to get Dream in a headlock and hisses "Give me back my body."

Dream groans "I am trying! Let go so we can figure this out before they find us!"

Nightmare frowns and waits for just a moment to see if they are followed. He feels some slight confusion and worry from everyone else but there seems to be a bit of a standoff.

Nightmare sighs and lets go of Dream "Quickly then."

Dream huffs as he gets up only to stagger as Ngihtmare sees his tendrils flex. Nightmare snorts "Haven't figured out how to keep them still yet?"

Dream glares at Ngihtmare wiht his own face "Shut up. Just tell me you have na idea how to switch us back."

Nightmare sighs "Obviously we tried to recreate what happened in our last fight." Nightmare focusses and calls forth his, Dream's? this is getting confusing, aura.

Dream hisses slightly, no doubt feeling the burn, before nodding and quickly doing the same.

Both hold out a hand and inch their aura's around each's other's aura and towards the other twin.

Nightmare feels his own magic reach him and it feels like a blast of cool air on a summer day. He lets himself follow it and-

His body burns by the positivity right before him and he jumps back. His tendrils helping Ngihtmare move back and away from Dream.

Dream lets out a loud sigh of relieve as he lets himself sink to his knees "Oh that feels so much better..."

Nightmare nods as he flexes a tendril "I agree."

A moment of silence and peace between the two as neither makes the move to attack first.

Dream speaks up first "I... I never realised how... how much just tiny bits of positivity hurt..."

Nightmare shurgs "You get used to it. and sometimes it is better to feel the sting than the alternative."

Dream nods as he shoots Nightmare a smile.

Nightmare frowns "You can say no."

Dream blinks "Excuse me?"

Nightmare sighs "You should say no sometimes. It is unhealthy to keep giving everything you have to everyone. especially if they don't actually need help or are even thankful or grateful for it." Nightmare shoots his brother an unimpressed look "Learn to manage your work/home life."

Dream blinks before laughing and shooting him a grin "You sound like Blue."

Nightmare nods "You should listen to him more then."

Another moment of peace before both their groups get to them. Neither feel much for fighting and both call for a retreat very quickly.

Both have a lot to think about anyways.

---------

"Wait?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU AND YOUR TWIN HAD BEEN SWITCHED?! THAT EXPLAINS SO MUCH!"

#writing #utmv #fanfic #fanfiction #Nightmare did in matter of fact reassure Cross that he does not think he is a worm #Cross is very relieved #The one who said the last sentence us up to you #as for where Error and Ink where?#They were doing their own B-plot where they got stuck somewhere and had to work together to get out #They did not work together #which is why they were away for so long #Anyway #Hope you like your little pressie ;)#Just a little something inspired by your comics #No i am not going to proofread #Nor Am i going to edit.#Am tired.#Nightmare Sans #Dream Sans

128 notes · View notes

illunicae · 3 months

Text

Teenage Dream

This may or may not be 100% inspired by me making my food today. (Ao3)

Pairing: Leo x Reader

TWs: None, just a butt load of fluff

Foot tapping lightly to the beat, you had one hand on the pan handle and the other on your large mixing/serving spoon as you lightly stirred your still half frozen pasta meal. As a broke college student you didn’t really have the money for nights out and extravagant meals, so frozen dinners from the freezer section of your grocery store will have to do. Sure Mikey’s offered plenty of times for you to head over and enjoy a perfectly cooked home meal, and you obviously take him up on the offer from time to time, but you don’t want to seem leachy. You can suffer through a few half decent frozen meals every now and again.

Setting the spoon down, you step away to let the meal cook a bit more. It won’t be ready for another few minutes. The song you were listening to slowly faded, giving way to the upbeat rhythm of the next song. Recognizing it you perk up and begin swaying around a little more.

“You think I'm pretty without any makeup on. You think I'm funny when I tell the punchline wrong.” You mumble along to the song, a small grin curling your lips as you hum the next lines. You can’t help but think of your blue branded boyfriend as you dance around to the beat of the song.

“You–make–me feel like I'm livin' a teen–age–dream.” Your feet skip across the tile as you spin and dance like nobody’s watching. “The way you turn me on, I–can't–sleep. Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back.”

For the moment, your food on the stovetop is forgotten as you lose yourself to the song. As you sing along your mind flutters between memories of your relationship with Leo. The highs and the lows. The first awkward meeting and the most recent romantic date. “I finally found you, my missing puzzle piece. I'm complete.”

He truly feels like your missing puzzle piece. Your life felt so dull before he came in and made everything bright, shining neon. “You–make–me feel like I'm livin' a teen–age–dream.”

Being so lost in your own mind, the song easily covers the sound of a portal opening up in your kitchen and you don’t notice the new presence.

Leo blinks and freezes before a grin slowly breaks across his face as he leans against the counter to watch. His heart swells with adoration as he watches you dance around the kitchen. He can’t help but appreciate how beautiful you look moving so freely around in your apartment. Sure you may only be wearing a lounge outfit not intended for the public eye. Your hair might be a mess and your face unwashed. But still in his eyes you looked stunning. And it wasn’t the state of your appearance, it was the joyous grin on your face and the way your whole heart led you through the dances. It is the raw beauty of your soul. That’s what he loves. That’s what he watches now.

“I'ma get your heart–rac–ing in my skin–tight–jeans be your teen–age–dream tonight.”

True to the lyrics falling from your lips, Leo’s heart does race as he stands there and admires you. Part of him wants to join you and dance around the kitchen together. Another part of him doesn’t want to scare you with his sudden appearance and ruin the moment.

“Be your teen–age–dream tonight.”

Eventually the song comes to a close and you exhale with a chuckle, you mind still on Leo not realizing he’s standing right behind you. It’s only when a soft, single person clapping starts do you jump and whip around to see Leo with the most lovestruck glint in his eyes and bright smile on his lips as he claps for you.

“Leo!?” You sputter a bewildered laugh. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to know you are a triple threat mi vida. Stunning looks, killer dance moves, and a siren-like singing voice.” He flirts as he takes a step closer to you and pulls you into a sweet kiss.

You blush as the words sink into your soul and close your eyes to lean into the kiss while humming in amusement. Eventually you both pull away and just bask in each other’s company for a bit while a few ads play from the speaker.

A sizzling from the stove makes you freeze and your eyes widen in realization. “My food!” You turn and scramble back toward the stovetop. For the most part your frozen quick meal doesn’t look too bad as you mix it looking for any sign of burnt food.

Cold arms snake around your waist and a hard plastron presses into your back as Leo rests his chin on your shoulder. “Mmm, looks…edible.” He hums as he peers at your pasta dinner.

You scoff and shake your head. “Please, it looks better than some of the other brands I’ve gotten.”

“Whatever you say, hermosa. Just remember you’ll always be welcome to eat with us. You know Mikey always makes enough.” Leo says as he hugs slightly tighter around you.

“I know.” You nod and continue mixing your meal before turning off the stove as it appears to be cooked enough.

Leo begins swaying you both as another song comes on. He’s churring against your back as he slowly pulls you away from the stove. You turn in his hold to face him as he continues swaying you both around to the beat of the next song. You supposed you could take one more dance as you wait for your food to cool down to an edible temperature.

With a soft touch to your cheek, Leo leads you closer to seal another kiss. It’s soft and lights up your soul. It’s everything you were missing before you met him. It’s a reminder of how far your relationship has come. It’s a promise of how much more it will become.

When you pull away Leo’s got a grin on his face and love in his eyes. “You know, you’re my teenage dream too.”

You chuckle and shake your head with a fond smile at the cheesiness of it all before pulling him in for another kiss.

#my writing #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #leonardo x reader #rise leo #rise of the tmnt #fluff #It's kinda late and I'm super tired so apologies in advance for any mistakes

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viviennevermillion · 2 years

Text

they're all here because of you

notes: just me bleeding my chronic loneliness and estrangement from people into the malleus x reader oneshot. also the frozen references may have been a little too obvious but at this point you can't tell me this man isn't canonically at least a little bit inspired by elsa.

synopsis: the birthday party at night raven college wasn't quite what malleus had hoped it'd be. luckily you were there to cheer him up.

contains: malleus draconia x gn!reader, hurt/comfort

warnings: angst, themes of loneliness

dark content creators and consumers dni

"They're all here because of you", Lilia had told him with a smile on his face as the students gathered at Diasomnia for his birthday celebration, "look at how many people came to celebrate you even though we're all from different lands and have different ways of life. Isn't this school just a curious place?" Malleus had smiled at the words of the older dragon fae. Indeed, he had been looking forward to another birthday at Night Raven College, especially in his third year when he had talked to more people and experienced more of human life than ever before. He felt honored that the humans had come to celebrate him. That he didn't have to eat the cake alone this time or stare out of the window, wondering if everyone was having fun with the festivities in the village below the castle; while he had to stay inside asking himself what it would be like to join them.

Few had been brave enough to walk up directly to him and wish him a happy birthday. But they're all here because of me, Malleus reminded himself, they're here to celebrate my birthday. If he hadn't come to Night Raven College, there'd be no reason to celebrate his birthday after all.

He observed the humans from a distance; watched as they shared the cake that had been ordered specifically for the birthday celebration. It looked like it would be finished in no time. More than half of it was already gone and Malleus looked pleased. He had overheard several people commenting on how the cake was delicious and he himself found it quite enjoyable. He sat at a table near the window with his own plate in front of him. Sebek sat with him and complimented him but Malleus didn't really listen. Sebek didn't seem to notice nor mind.

Malleus saw how some of the humans took out their phone and took pictures of themselves with the other guests, celebrating and having fun together. He pulled his own phone out of his pocket only to notice it was broken again. When did that even happen this time?, he sighed. He'd have to get a new one sometime soon and find someone to explain Magicam to him, so he could be in the photos and participate in interacting with his classmates online. Malleus thought back to the Halloween week and the "Draconia challenge". That didn't count, right? He felt more like a commodity or a tourist attraction at the time. Was this what being in photos with others was supposed to feel like? Was this how all of them felt too?

They didn't seem unhappy. In fact, a lot of them seemed to have a great deal of fun at his birthday. They had hugged their friends and told each other stories of their latest and most interesting memories. The countries they had seen during their holidays and the parties they had been to recently. They also discussed their plans together for the coming weekends. Malleus smiled. It sounded like a lot of fun.

But the lingering feeling of sadness in his heart stayed. They were all here because of him and yet, as soon as they'd leave the dorm lounge, that too would come to pass. Lilia, Silver and Sebek had been the only ones on this day to hold a longer conversation with him. Most had congratulated him and then moved on to stick to their own groups that they'd share his cake with and celebrate his birthday with. And Malleus was watching. That's all he really did, were he honest with himself.

He remembered the beginning of the school year when he had told you that he quite enjoyed the solitude. Maybe he just really found his own company to be the best he had; liked to stroll through abandoned ruins and ponder the ways of the world in silence. Or maybe, if he truly listened to the voice in his heart for just a moment; instead of pushing it away in hopes to never hear from it again; he'd find that that was not the truth. That sometimes he preferred solitude because it hurt less than this. It was what he was used to and it caused him less pain than the idea of being surrounded by people and alone despite it all.

Had people really come to celebrate his birthday? Or did they simply receive the invitation and felt like celebrating something, anything?

He observed as his human guests giggled about something he didn't understand and put a party hat on one of their friends; teasing them about it. And then he looked at his little table, with his half-finished slice of cake and Sebek rambling on endlessly about how powerful and great he was. He wondered if Sebek had noticed that no one else had sat at their table for the entirety of the celebration. At least he seemed content with it...

Malleus possessed all the power most wizards could wish for, yet he only ever seemed to lose. He felt like he had been born and put on a pedestal to look at and gather around. Like a statue on a busy plaza built to bring a community together but never really meant to be a part of it. Time passed him by like a fleeting shadow and all that remained in the aftermath of inevitable change were ruins. Perhaps that's why he found such comfort in them. They were what would still be here for him when all else faded. When the laughter in the halls had long since stopped to echo, the lights had gone out and the mortal souls that brought life to its corridors, painted the pictures on the walls and grew the vibrant gardens outside had left this world forever; ruins were all that remained. How he wished he'd be able to change along with the world. But time left him behind; always leaving his little world stagnant before he'd one day find it in ruins too.

Maybe things would change once he was king. Or maybe people would always fear Malleus. And Malleus would always fear he'd remain nothing but a statue. Influencing the world but never truly living in it the way everyone around him would.

He was tied to humanity by a cruel string of fate. He'd isolate himself to forget about his pain and forget about all he lacked but once he noticed his retainers were the only ones who'd come looking for him, he'd always crawl back for another try, hoping this time it'd be different. Maybe this time he'd make the friends everyone told him were something he should never miss out on; that this time he'd take the photos he'd look back on for years to come with a smile on his face and celebrate the birthdays that finally truly made him feel valuable for anything but being born as a prince with an insane amount of magic power.

He saw the snow falling outside and got up to excuse himself. This was getting out of hand. Malleus stepped onto the balcony, resting his arms on the balustrade as the soft and cold snowflakes got caught on his horns and in his hair and some of them mixed with the tears running down his cheeks. He knew he needed to get this under control. It wasn't befitting of a prince to cry at his birthday party. Or make it snow outside. He'd only cause trouble for everyone else and ruin the celebration for them. They were all here because of him, at least officially, and he had to treat his guests with the proper respect. He had to put them first and hope that while focusing on making this experience the most enjoyable one for them, he'd distract himself from his own feelings for a while.

"Were you planning to make an ice skating rink for everyone?", he heard a joking voice behind him, one he immediately recognized, "I'm sorry I'm late. Got held up by Crewel after class..." Your voice was soft and you took his hand in yours. You were observant, immediately noticing that he wasn't feeling too well. Seeing the tears on his face just confirmed that. You reached your hand out to cup his cheeks and gently wipe the tears away. "Hey, what's the matter?", you asked with a worried expression on your face, hugging Malleus gently. You could tell how distressed he was from the way he clung to you like you were the lifeline he was so desperately hoping for while drowning in a sea of solitude.

"I apologize", Malleus began, taking your hand in his again, "it's unbecoming of the host of a birthday party to just leave his guests alone like this. Let alone the future king of Briar Valley." You shook your head, squeezing his hand gently. "Your feelings matter too, you know?"

Malleus couldn't help but chuckle. Even Lilia would have tried to convince him to go back to the party and give it another try. You were the only one who made him feel like he really could show his feelings around you. That he could forget about being Crown Prince Malleus Draconia for a moment and just be someone you held dear and talked to about gargoyles and all the curious phenomenons of human society. He looked up to notice the snow had stopped. Or rather, it was frozen in mid-air, as if the storm had quieted down and what was left of it were glistening fragments frozen in time. He looked at your face and the smile you wore made him smile as well. Most were terrified of his magic, yet you reached out to it unafraid and with a sense of curiosity and wonder. You fished some of the ice crystals out of the air and examined them in your hands.

They were melting on your skin and you touched his neck in a fruitless attempt to tease him with your cold hands. Malleus chuckled but quickly returned to his own world where it was mostly him and his thoughts. "Did anyone notice?", he sighed, looking back into the Diasomnia dorm lounge with a longing expression. "I mean Lilia, Silver and Sebek-" "I get it", you recognized the pouting expression on his face. You sighed.

"Do you still want to be here?"

Malleus didn't hesitate; the words leaving his mouth almost like an automated response. "It's my birthday party and my guests-" "Malleus, be honest", you retorted and linked your fingers with his, signaling that you'd be fine with whatever he'd tell you. He hesitated for a while before a quiet "no" left his lips.

"Would you like to take a walk and look at the gargoyles around campus again? Or we could go to the village and browse that antique shop you like. I heard they got new stuff recently", you suggested, still smiling at him softly. Was this really okay?

You reassured him that no one would be mad at him for taking some time to do what felt right for him at the moment. He pulled you into his arms again and whispered a quiet thank you.

About an hour later the two of you were sitting on a bench near the beach of Sage's Island, sharing a big ice cream cup. Malleus loved to listen to your voice as you answered whatever questions he had for you. He had come to this school unsure of what there was left to learn for him, yet you taught him so much about the world in so little time. You were honest and had no issue explaining things to him in great detail, to make sure he really understood what you were talking about. He loved how enthusiastic you were about sharing your world with him. You always seemed so excited whenever he was unfamiliar with something you liked and you were able to show him.

He remembered how alone he had felt among the guests of his birthday celebration. How he felt like the world had been grey and dull in this moment; as he was forced to watch the people around him live each moment like it was the greatest yet. And then you had entered the dorm and brought color to his world. All the guests were there to celebrate his birthday yet he felt like today you were the only one who really saw him. Who pulled him out of his overthinking and told him it was okay to take a break. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and wished him a happy birthday after finishing the ice cream cup; putting it aside and resting your head on his shoulder. And for now, that was more than enough. Malleus chuckled and watched the sun set with a smile, holding your hand tightly in his.

On days like these he felt like a statue. Made to contribute something to this world while never truly being part of it as it changed and grew with every passing second. And you....you were the one person who'd stop by every day to place flowers down in front of it; who'd stay here for a while, content no matter if you were surrounded by others or if it was just you and him. You had dried his tears and soothed the ache in his heart and he knew you'd continue to do so, doing nothing but spending your time with him because you loved him. Because you saw him and you loved what you saw.

He found it curious how when he'd feel lost, just the fact that you took his hand and talked to him made all the difference for a moment. He leaned his head against yours as he watched the stars appear on the skies. He had power and status and today, on his birthday, he had received plenty of gifts from the other students. But ironically, the greatest gift he had today was you. And you promised to be there for the days, months and years to come.

#twisted wonderland #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x you #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia fluff #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader

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novelcain · 2 years

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Heyo, I have a bit of a prompt for ya. So I’ve seen the “Demon that wants to abduct and forcibly marry Reader,” post(s) and raise a “The local regent/king finds Reader attractive (in a way that he views her almost like a novelty than as a whole person) and offers her a position as a concubine/ ‘palace lady.’” This is a different kind of scenario because straight up murdering the king of the area is not exactly the option that’d let the journey continue smoothly and refusal could also be construed as an offense to the king, but Reader does not want to and needs to continue with them on the journey. All of the other disciples know this, and maybe can tell she’s uncomfortable (even if it’s before Wukong has really fallen for Reader, she is still someone he would consider to be his friend at the very least). How are they going to get out of this one? (Slightly inspired by the time Tripitaka was propositioned in the Kingdom of Women by the Empress.)

Ps: sorry if this is dumb, regardless, I hope you have a good day - 🌺 anon

King: So what do you say, girl? Will you become my concubine? I see no possible reason for you to say no! I can give you all you could ever ask for in exchange for serving my every whim! That seems like a wonderful deal for a woman like you that clearly comes from nothing.

Reader:

Wukong:

Sandy:

Pigsy:

Ao Lie:

Reader: Wha-What?

Tripitaka: N-Now wait just a minute, your Majesty. You c-can't simply expect her to drop everything and stay here-

King: Well of course I can! I am the king of these lands! In fact! I insist upon it! Woman, you shall stay here and serve your new king immediately as soon as you are cleaned.

Reader: *feeling a panic attack approaching as the room starts to spin*

Wukong: *holding back the urge to commit violent murder*

Sandy: *rethinking this whole "pacifism" thing*

Pigsy: *looking disgusted at the king*

Ao Lie: *wondering if anyone would notice if he turned back into a dragon and ate the king*

Tripitaka: *trying so hard to think of a peaceful solution while also trying not to cry over how much the king is objectifying Reader* Y-You can't just h-have her! She's a necessary part of our pilgrimage!

King: By the Heavens! She's just one woman how valuable could she be!? After all, she is just your maidservant is she not!?

Tripitaka: *remembering that is the disguise they came up with for her* Yes, b-but! Why must you have her, great King!?

King: Because I have never seen a woman like her before! She is a beautiful foreign flower that I simply must have for myself! Here! I shall be merciful and send you off with another servant!

King: *gestures to his guards to find a servant*

Wukong: *reaches toward his ear for his staff*

Sandy: *reaches for his spade*

Pigsy: *reaches for his rake*

Ao Lie: *gets ready to turn into a dragon*

Tripitaka: *frozen in shock*

Reader: *sees the carnage about to begin*

Reader: I HAVE A DISEASE!

Everyone: *stops and turns to face her* HUH?!

Reader: I... have a disease.

King: *narrows eyes in suspension* And what is the name of this disease?

Reader: *sweats nervously as all knowledge of every disease she knows of decides to take a vacation from her brain at the one moment she needs it most*

Reader: In... junct... co... itis.... Injunctcoitis.

Everyone:

King: I have never heard of this Injunctcoitis. *turns to the court physician*

Court physician: Neither have I, your Majesty.

Reader: It's a northern disease! From the north! Where I'm from!

King: *looks at court physician*

Court physician: It is possible, your Majesty. *approaches Reader starts inspecting her* And what are the symptoms?

Reader: Oh, w-women don't have any symptoms. *takes a deep breath and composes herself* But for men it makes their dick fall off.

Everyone: IT WHAT!?!?!?!

Reader: Yep! After two months, yo dick just gonna... fall off. And it's a sexually transmitted disease.

King: I can't take any risk of that being true! Get them out of here before this disease spreads to the kingdom!

The Pilgrim Gang: *gets escorted out of the kingdom*

Everyone:

Reader: *sniffles*

The boys: *hugs Reader*

P.S. this so wasn't dumb I had fun writing this 🤭

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crystaltoa · 2 months

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Ideas and brainstorming for DnD Toa Metru:

Deepening the conflict between Whenua and Matau.

On the one hand, they could clash more over Whenua's pessimism and caution and Matau's bragging and recklessness. Whenua saved the others several times; Matau needed to be saved because he wanted to perform heroic acts.

On the other hand:

Whenua's been so beaten down by losing people in canon that he left several onu-matoran to subdue a gukko on their own. Admittedly after one of them told they can't rely on his help and he should go on, so he respected what they wanted. He didn't believe that Nokama could be saved from the venom.

Matau, while he wants attention, also believes deeply in heroic values. He'd get involved when others don't want him to; sometimes when he shouldn't. He'd not look away when somebody needed help.

I can imagine that Matau would get furious at Whenua for acting as if Whenua is replacable. Especially if he chewed out Matau before for risking his own life through unnecessary stunts. They nearly come to blows because they can't agree whether or not they should get involved into a dangerous situation to help people.

Matau would stick with Whenua, refusing to let him stay in a seemingly inescapable situation. Or he'd rush to look for help. He'd help him pull out of moments where he's frozen because he doesn't know what to do.

Whenua would inspire Matau to stop more before he acts, to plan. He could learn from him how to act more subtly, how to hide both with and without his illusions. It saves Matau several times.

I love all of this!

I can see some issues being brought up regarding the relative durability and lifespans of each character’s species as well, and that maybe having an impact on how Whenua views friendships.

@bionicle-ramblings headcanoned Matau taking an instant liking to Vakama, humans being something of a novelty where he’s from. I can picture Whenua making some offhand comment to Matau telling him not to get too attached to humans as they don’t last very long. (Whenua is not old by dwarf standards, but he has outlived several human friends) and Matau being upset that he would even bring that up, why does he have to be so morbid all the time? (Nokama would also be very cross with him if she were within earshot. You just don’t say things like that, Whenua).

Also, I think Onu-Metru has a lot of gnomes so Whenua is fairly familiar with them and their culture. Or at least, he is familiar with Onu-Metru gnomes. Matau, being a vehicle enthusiast and techie, has met and enjoyed good relations with a lot of dwarven engineers. He’s kind of perplexed that Whenua’s not a craftsman and has little interest in gadgets, weapons and vehicles. (“What kind of dwarf ARE you?” “We’re not all the same, you know.”). Whenua, meanwhile, finds it equally bizarre that Matau does not care for life underground, enjoys heights, and has very little interest in nature or wild creatures. He’s never even seen a forest. They both have a bit of unlearning of stereotypes to do.

Matau’s also going to be the first to make a crack about Whenua being a gloomstalker. “Yeah, he’s darkgloomy alright!”

#bionicle #Toa metru #matau #whenua #bionicle fantasy au #bionicle dnd au

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samodivaa · 1 year

Text

Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 4)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Winter Soldier x Reader)

Part 1⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ Part 2⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ Part 3 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* ┗━━━ ━━━┛ He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember. ┏━━━ ━━━┓ Quotes - Pushkin, Fyodor Tyutchev, Dostoyevsky └── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Warnings - heavy ANGST, some fluff Words - 3000

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Song ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆Eventually

Did i cry from my own fic? Yes? ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

4 years ago Bucky’s triggers words were present more than anything, anyone else in his life. Beneath the sheet of gleaming snow, his human-self slept for decades, frozen in time. And everywhere he goes, it follows him; the past is always spreading ashes of memories : all of Winter’s footprints are effaced by her love, the waves of fury are at peace – she is his homeland shores, grounding his soul like an anchor. „Ah, my last love! Thou art both bliss and pain. And joy - and hopelessness-“ Bucky moves to sit next to her on the couch, putting an arm around her and pulls her in close until his head rests on her shoulder. „Doll, what are you quoting?“ he squints his eyes, quotes always brush against the edge of his curiosity, before taking a peek at her book. „My last love; Fyodor Tyutchev“ she proclaims, hardly attempting to hide her growing smirk. „Am I your last love?“ He drawls, a bit of sarcasm touching his tone, but he feels the seed of doubt embed in his heart at his own words echoes in his head. She just giggles, looking at him with glittering eyes, not moving from her comfortable repose. „Of course, Bucky“ She smiles and nods, before turning her gaze to the book once again, rolling the paper sheet between her fingers and gazing at it thoughtfully. „Read me more, I want to hear more“ he mumbles after completing an impressive yawn. He adjusts his position to get more comfortable on the couch as she continues to read, with his head on her lap. His soul is a wounded dove, it has a painful, longing call. A flying bird about to fall, that was poisoned, festered with the past…and now Bucky is surrendering in her embrace, and quietly drinks the healing rays of poem; of poetry - drinking mouthfuls from this healing light, her light – finally seeing the world bright and complete. "It is amazing what one ray of sunshine can do for a man!” ― Dostoyevsky 3 years ago „Snow, frost and sunshine ... Lovely morning! Yet you, dear love, its magic scorning, Are still abed ... Awake my sweet!“ Suddenly her voice sounds in the nothing of the night. Though no louder than falling snow, it cuts across the emptiness, so shocking in the endless silence that the words seem craved into his mind, crackle of emotions infuses the void of his soul after the nightmare. „Winter morning, Pushkin. Why do you always read me that when I have nightmares, doll?“ he feels an oppressive weight settling over him. „Because after a raging snowstorm, a lovely morning always follows, Bucky“ „Yeah, because you are the sunshine in my mornings“ He burbles out a delirious giggle as sweat streams down his face. Having her in his life is a kiss-inspired dream, he needs to touch her to make sure she is real. With his shoulders squared and his body tenses from the unknown reality, his hand gently outstretches to her face. She responds by inching impossibly closer into his palm with sliver of softness in her eyes. She is real.

2 years ago Nature is an artist as it strokes swiftly a winter wonderland. But now, wretches, every drop of blood — don't stain the innocent snow. The scene is set, exquisitely divine — snow always pluck the vibrating strings of Bucky's mind, but her voice is enough to make his worries melt away. Sometimes they talk of the past where еre any roamed or died. They talk of old times when Winter only meant death and not Christmas chimes. There is no wind to speak of, more an icy winter chill outside; because If he wants to overcome the whole world, he needs to overcome himself so they go for a walk to the park, snow crunching beneath their feet. Their hearts are not connected to each other through mutual understanding alone. They are, instead, linked deeply through the wounds of his past — hanging by a string, loosely holding him from collapsing. And she knows when thoughts are tossing him around, bathing in his blood — so she chooses to speak.

„I still remember that amazing moment. When you appeared before my sight. As though a brief and fleeting omen, Pure phantom in enchanting light.“

„Doll, I really think that you love Pushkin more than me“ „I remember reading him for the first time, it was so romantic“ „You are telling me that meeting me was not romantic?“ „Sometimes I just imagine meeting you in a café, far away from here - I imagine that nothing bad has happened to you, Bucky. Sometimes I wish you didn’t remember the past.“ And this is what Bucky learns now: that her love is an antidote to his worries, always, that stands within this otherness of the world, of nature — the beauty and the mystery of the Winter season, out in the fields or deep inside their favorite books at home — both those activities, her ideas; are re-dignifying his worst-stung soul. He doesn’t need to fight darkness. Bring the light, and darkness will disappear, she is his light. She uses his moment of distraction to move away and makes a small ball of snow and throws it right at his nose. „I was thinki-“ Bucky shouts as he wipes the snow from his face. She has the audacity to laugh as he removes the snow, and he decides to chase her. Bucky easily tackles her into the snow, putting his arm around her to make sure she wouldn't get hurt in the fall, faces very close together. „Now, this is romantic, Bucky“ He nodes his head, speechless still. To heal is to touch with love that which was previously touched by Hydra.

Present „How are you holding, Buck?“ „I’ve lived too long with the pain, I won’t know who am I without it“ „You still quote stuff just like you did with her, Buck. Why don’t you talk to her, she is still recovering I talked with her today“ „She doesn’t remember anything, I want her to move on“ his inquisitiveness nearly outweighed his reluctance to talking to Sam about it, attempting to simmer the flames of the protective nature over her. „She might remember, she needs time, Buck-“ Sam pressures him with a challenging look that he more than gladly returns. Bucky considers the proposal and the fact that Sam is giving him a guarded expression that seems so hopeful, followed by a slight nod of his head before speaking.

„The time I spend at Wakanda, with Shiru- I’ve decided to go with the procedure. I can’t trust my mind unless they restart my bra-“ „You can’t-“ Bucky rises from the chair and is halfway to the door of Sam’s house when he turns and says „Enough, Sam, please“

Bucky has fond a peace in nature which was irreplaceable once; he steps outside looking at the colorful sunset. The sun is out, but he is cold, eyes are wild, but the mind is asleep, the world is alive, but Bucky has dead. Nature is love, nature reminds him of her, but he is aloof of everything that screams live for today — he died the moment he woke up to her laying in the white sheets. ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ Flowers will grow back after he stepped on then and maybe in a less miserable times they may see each other again — all his grief says the same things „this is not how it’s supposed to be“ and the world laughs and holds at his hope by the throat „but this is how it is“ The final turn is that. Oh, how strongly grabs them, the secret plot of fate and everywhere he goes, it follows him; the past is always spreading ashes of memories: all of Bucky’s footprints of love are effaced by Winter, the waves of fury are not at peace – no longer is there a homeland shore, no longer someone grounds his lost soul like an anchor.

The sadness won’t last forever, he won’t be able to remember it and for the last time Bucky goes to sleep so he could see her in his dreams for the last time – she taught him everything except to how to live without her – the present feels like the past. It’s a fitting punishment for a monster to want something so much, to hold it in his arms and know beyond a doubt that he never deserved it, that he ruined it – his soul bleeds and the blood steadily, silently, disturbingly slowly shallows him whole – Bucky is too gone to be healed – he almost robbed her of her life. Now, she will carry the scars forever, but he selfishly remembers their love, there was love and it was theirs. Bucky was too deeply afraid to face her, that the moment their eyes meet and she finds herself staring at a stranger and he will realize that he has become a person she no longer recognizes – he stares at the poem she left for him, it makes him smile, because it reminded him of him and her; of what they used to do – James doesn’t want this to be the end of the chapter but it is – it’s the end of the line for love – nothing ever ends poetically he realizes end and his trust to poetry, it was not beautiful – it was just pain. He performs autopsies on their conversations long ago – he can to lie Sam, but he can’t lie to the hole deep inside – he lets himself cry, it’s better than feeling nothing at – wearing her shirt, because it’s still smells like her, but it will soon fade like his memories of her, of everything, erased forever. How can he live with a conscience that suffers whilst acknowledging his sin; with the memory of knowing she left this poem behind, thinking she would die from his own hands? ◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥ I loved you; and perhaps I love you still, The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet It burns so quietly within my soul, No longer should you feel distressed by it. Silently and hopelessly, I loved you, At times too jealous and at times too shy. God grant you find another who will love you As tenderly and truthfully as I. Your sincerely, your Doll ◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

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„Excuse me for interrupting, but I just saw that you are reading `The Brothers Karamazov` and couldn’t resist coming to talk to you“ a calm voice cut through the silence. „Oh, I just wanted to reread it- you can sit with me“ She has a thoughtful look on her face, heart shattering into so many tiny fragments that it is hard to speak, it leaves her incredulously blinking when she sees his blue eyes eerily crystalline. She only heard about him in periodic whispers over the mouths, hearing about his recovery and adjustment to life all over again. She never intended to stay long, but she does because it is peaceful and she is not in a rush to leave, but his presence is overwhelming, feeling the presence of eternal harmony, fully achieved just like before. „I need to go for work, it was nice meeting you“ She senses that she should be following a different path, a path where their lines don’t cross. It is too much, she can barely breathes. There is a furious discontent from a moment, which verged on loathing; for her to have all of her memories and for him to be just a stranger taking interest in her book. This inexhaustible fantasy of them meeting again, of them reading books again – she needs to get out here of here, but then Bucky speaks and it’s impossible to smash the idea of them being together into splinters and turn it to dust – his eyes are the ocean, all flows and connects when their eyes meet. „Wait, can I get your number?“ he whispers from beside her, worry clear on his face at her sudden urge to go. He continues to stare intently into her eyes, waiting for their gazes to meet again and he feels his heartbeat speeding up. „Oh?“ Bucky almost chokes on the air as she turns around to face him, not responding with any words. She just furrows her eyebrows slightly. And it hurts so good that its Bucky’s own free unfettered choice to ask her, to come speak with her. „I want to buy you a book“ his blue eyes trail from her eyes, to her lips thinking about how gorgeous this girl is. She is not sure which is worse – the intense feeling of him being here, or the absence of his previous love for her. Maybe it will be worse if she doesn’t let herself be part of his new life. She is too afraid of giving herself to someone she might lose again, she is too afraid that Winter might come again. Her loyalty to his past, to keeping it a secret its want cost her the most and she needs to bare all of her sins all over again, to keep a secret. „You don’t want to take me on a date?“ she questions while watching him with an amused gaze. „Yeah, yeah – I want to do that, too“ he responses with uncertainty laced in his voice, trying to hide a nervous laugh between closed lips. “You will burn and you will burn out; you will be healed and come back again” „Is that a quote?“ he shrugged, looking startled. „Yeah, it’s from the book, James“ „How do you know my name?“ it is a tormenting thought that refuses to take shape, not even sure if he wants to know the explanation behind this. “I am a fool with a heart but no brains, and you are a fool with brains but no heart; and we’re both unhappy, and we both suffer” Her eyes get a little teary, but she's quick to put a lid on her emotions, it is overwhelming that he doesn’t remember any of her favorite quotes, of the quotes she used to tell him. „Where is that from?“ „Idiot“ „Excuse me?“ „The Idiot, Fyodor Dostoevsky“ she hesitatingly looks at him, he is already looking at her with those ocean blue orbits that hold so much kindness, curiosity, just as they used to. „Oh…that was clever, I will give you that“ he laughs to himself, shoulders shaking with humor. „And I will give you my number“ „Really?“ „No“ “We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken”

„That is from Crime and Punishment“ she purposely tries to add amusement to her voice, trying to appear as this has never happened before. She is frozen, words caught in her throat. „Yeah.“ He licks his bottom nervously. "O-okay, I will give you my number"

An invisible thread ties them together – the pull the drag deep inside beneath her skin, the heavy gravity of him. She loved him enough to spend forever waiting, no amount of time is ever enough and even one day if forever runs out, she will be fine, because it’s her decision waiting for Bucky, getting to love him all over again. To exist with him is her greatest privilege and pain – but he has settled into the depth of her soul because, she has found what she loves and it almost killed her – the thought of him forgetting her terrified her before, but it probably terrified him too before his mind was fully reset – she searches for quotes which remind her of them, but he probably did too. This time she is learning him slowly, taking her time; in no rush with her love – there are oceans in James’ eyes and when she looks at them, both emotions and memories hit me waves. Sometimes she wants to scream so loud that the ground trembles, there is so much fear and grief within her that she is decaying from the inside out and there is no one to help me but herself. She needs to stay silent, need to be here for him once again – she loved him and will love parts of him that are not easy to love, turning the pages gently and helping him re-write a happy ending to his narrative. She has loved none, but him and it cuts her soul a million times just to form a constellation to light his way home – angry and half in love with the new him and tremendously sorry for how it turned out for them – it’s not a metaphor, this ache, this fear of Winter all over – but all Bucky’s life was grey before meeting her one day at the café. He brushes up against pink and the barest touch and - the rest of his life is green again, green like Spring. He doesn’t know who he is and the cycle begins again – he pierces her soul ,she is half agony and half love – Bucky is too tangled there, finding his way back to her unknowingly.

And that’s how Bucky imagines it, meeting her all over again after his procedure - in a café, far away from here - he imagines that nothing bad has happened to her. Sometimes he wishes he was just Bucky, sometimes he wishes that the past has never happens - sorrow compresses his heart. His grief passes gradually into quiet tender joy of that daydream. Her memories never returned. Bucky’s memories were deleted successfully. They never met again. ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆Tag list⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ @dear-lolita @i-loveyoubutyourenotmine @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @montyrokz @sarah5462 @mooievis @almosttoopizza @midnightramyeoncravings @itsmadamehydra @ravenromanoff @beetlejuicesupremacy @queenashen @kandis-mom @whitexwolfxx310 @msoldier @venting402 @avery199 @pandabearrrrrrr @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @tokoyamisstuff @happinessinthebeing

“The most monstrous monster is the monster with noble feelings” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Eternal Husband

#bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier x y/n #bucky x y/n #winter solider imagine #bucky imagine #heavy angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x f #bucky x you #bucky x female yn #bucky x f!reader

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sinpathyforthedevilish · 9 months

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Baby... Take Me Home

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Warnings: Sexual tension, mutual pining

Words: 555

Summary: Frankie notices you dancing under the disco lights. And he completely falls apart.

A/N: Once again I got inspired by another amazing song, this time by the wonderful Sophie Ellis-bextor. Any disco song is also suitable for this story. Hope you like it!

Frankie is a man. He is a man who sometimes judges, criticizes, and doesn't trust people. He doesn't trust places, or sensations. He can feel uncomfortable and he can show it to you. to his friends. He doesn't mind expressing his awkwardness, his shyness.

But everything changes when he sees you. Across the dance floor. Awkwardly holding his red cup and drinking some alcohol hoping he can let himself loose a little bit. But everything changes when he sees you. His frown disappears, his facial expressions loose. Now his mouth is open, tasting the warm air of the club, the sweat, the smell of cigarettes and his drink. His ears are beating with the music and his eyes? his eyes are digging into you. Into the woman he can't stop staring.

Because right in the middle of the salon there's you. With a dress made of sequins, brightening your figure. Your long hair is flying through the air, and your smile is captivating every single person you look at. And when you look at him, you just know.

This man does not come often to this place. He does not belong here. He is all tense and his body is rigid as a stone. But his eyes, oh, his eyes are the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. Black holes taking your being and slowly hypnotizing you. You are screwed. Your whole body betrays you. Your smile vanishes, and instead you gulp and try to calm your erratic breath. The desire is present and imponent. Him and you are the only ones in that place now. There is an invisible string involving you both.

Slowly, as if you are trying to tame an animal, you come closer to him. Walking straight steps so that he can notice your legs and your fine heels. You crave for his attention, for his devotion.

He also comes closer to you, as if there's an invisible force who units both of you. Each step he does is slower, gentler, softer.

The moment comes and before you can count it, you are standing in front of this man. There are multiple bodies around you but the only one who matters is this man over here. This man who is nothing compared to you. His clothes, earthy-coloured and soldier-styled. And you? a fucking sunlight. A disco ball full of colours and brightness.

You don't know what to say. You are enchanted, petrified, frozen. Those eyes are now holding you hostage.

"Do you..." He starts, with a raspy voice. "Do you come here, often?"

You just nod.

"What 's your name?"

Seductively , you stroke his shoulder, flashing him your brightest smile.

"Tell me yours first," You drag your words with a sensual tone.

"Francisco," He replies, cupping your hand on top of his shoulder and grabbing it so that he can kiss your knuckles.

"What a pretty name, for a very handsome man."

He blushes and you swear it's so cute you cannot wait to jump in his arms.

"Would you... would you like to dance with me?" He shyly asks.

You smirk. Fuck he is so cute.

"I would love to," You let him pull your hand and drag you to the middle of the dancefloor, letting both of you enjoy each other for the rest of the night under the disco lights.

#frankie morales #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales fluff #pedro pascal fluff

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danosrosegarden · 1 year

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Luv your work! 💖💖

Could you write Rimming with Eddie? Reader can be GN. You inspire me to create my own work :D

dirty little secret - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{contains: descriptions of anxiety, rimming, and switch eddie if you squint.}

☽ Edward viewed it as nothing more than a shameful porn category he'd scroll through when his room was dark and empty. It made his cheeks burn pink and his stomach flutter, to think of how deeply he enjoyed his filthy secret. There was one specific video he always came running back to. He was stuck like glue on the way the man in the video whined and gripped his bedsheets. It was pleasure-riddled agony painted across his face as his partner's slick tongue plunged in and out of him. His hips would buck and his thighs would tremble and Eddie wanted to know how he felt so badly. He couldn't help but imagine how good you'd look in that situation. But no, gosh, no, he could never share this part of him with anybody. Certainly not you. You'd think he was grimy. Disgusting. A freak. He simply couldn't fracture what you two had going.

☽ Little did he know...uh...he wasn't exactly quiet about his deeds when he was under the impression you were asleep next to him. And what an interesting selection of videos he ran through, you noted while peeking out of one eye beside him. You'd have to confront him sometime.

☽ I say confront, because Eddie really does feel like he's been caught in a spider web when you decide to bring it up one night. He's about to be eaten alive, and not in the way he wants it. (har har)

☽ He's fumbling with his fingers, rapidly cracking his knuckles while he spills it all in a jumbled, tangled string of words. Poor baby. He has no idea, does he? You want to see him happy. And you'd always like to know what you could do to reach that goal. There was no reason to be fearful of it. You tell him so, and the raging thunderstorm pounding in his chest quells when he senses you truly mean it.

☽ But when the moment finally comes, he can't seem to pacify his trembling limbs, twitching with frosty cold fear. But it all circles back to those videos he watched. The men in it groaned. They whimpered. Their hips shook wildly and damn it, they were loving it. So, why was he so anxious?

☽ The position he's in certainly doesn't help. Porn never lets you in on how invasive face down ass up really feels.

☽ There are a million what-ifs for Edward to consider here, frozen solid in this vulnerable position. What if he doesn't like it? What if you don't like it? What if you suddenly decide he is, in fact, a fucking freak, and you don't want him anymore?

☽ His buzzing brain flatlines as soon as your tongue, coated with thick bubbles of saliva, snakes inside of him. Holy fuck. It was weird, but the best genre of strange he'd felt. He's overwhelmed almost instantly.

☽ And he can feel you grin against him as weak mewls drip from his mouth. Bastard. You're enjoying making me crumble, aren't you?

☽ "Please." He's hearing his voice squeak out a plead, but he's lost control of what he's babbling. What the fuck am I even begging for? More? Less? Slower? Faster?

☽ He gives in to the feeling completely, deep groans and laughable whines trickling from his lips like drool. He lets the heat in his belly knot up and rise, his heart crashing like cymbals in his ears. More. More. Just a little bit more.

☽ He'd been dribbling precum as soon as you'd started, and you were doing fucking incredible, but he needed more. He heard you tsk as he grabbed hold of his throbbing dick and stroked himself furiously. In that moment, he couldn't be paid to care about the punishment you'd be giving him later for touching himself without permission. He just needed more, and he needed it now.

☽ A strangled sob is ripped out from his chest as his cum paints the bedsheets. Can you blame him? He just couldn't help it! It was so excitingly new, so prettily filthy...and for a time, it was unfathomable. He planned on taking his dirty little secret to his grave.

☽ "Thank you," he mutters into your neck, cuddling up to your side after the cleanup. He holds onto you tight. "Thank you, thank you."

☽ He may not have been the one doing the work, but you felt a beaming ray of pride shine from your heart. Such a brave boy you got, conquering his fears of expressing his desires. And now, he had no use for those videos anymore, because he just got a fresh stack of masturbation material. The memory of your tongue swirling around his hole would be enough to get him off daily from now on. And let's not even get started on his fantasies of him performing on you...

#eli's writing #danonation #paul dano #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #edward nashton x y/n #the riddler x y/n

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flowerwiththemachinegun · 28 days

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Nsfw. TsengxReader, SephirothxReader ZackxReader foot fetish headcanon? Well it isn’t so much them with the fetish, but you (or should be you). He took you seriously when you told him to step on you. I started Sephiroth’s months ago but never finished, but Tseng gave me inspiration to complete it. I have the layout of his office in remake in mind for Tseng. My fav Cage the Elephant line is gonna be added in. Usually I’d do my favorites last, but this time I absolutely have no favorites. Maybe Seph because of his foot size. Whatever the character says is italicized, reader's is not.

___________________________________________________

Tseng

What made you realize you might have been too down bad for Tseng was during training. You got a bit overzealous, thinking you had the upper hand against him. Until he swept you off of your feet, stepping on your chest as Tseng’s display of dominance. Grabbing his ankle, far too gentle for a sparring match, you can't help but stare at his foot placed firmly against you. Your eyes trailing from his well polished shoes, up his leg, until you were staring into questioning, eyes. They kept you frozen in place. Unable to respond as Tseng presses just a bit harder into you, asking why you’ve hesitated. You don’t tell him this, but inwardly you wish he would press down so hard that you struggled to breathe.

Tseng wishes you wouldn’t look at him that way. He’s seen that look in your eyes before, he can tell you want to play. To your delight he does press down harder before pulling away. Letting you know just how foolish he thought you were for thinking you could beat him so easily. Though not with his words, but more so his body language. A condescending look in his eyes that would, normally, annoy you.

He’ll confront you about it later, calling you to his office for your annual performance review. Nothing was unusual about the meeting, a few critiques here and there. After wrapping up your review he asks you about your hesitance in the last training match. You know there’s no point in lying to Tseng. Expressing to him exactly how you instantly wanted him to dominate you the moment his foot connected with your chest.

“So you like to be stepped on, hm?” This is something he can certainly get behind. Now here you are, completely naked. Ass up, face down against the floor of his office. Tseng’s digging his heel into your cheek in an almost cruel manner before pulling away. Using the bottom of his foot to push you over so you’d fall on your back. Bringing his foot back down but this time on your neck.

He knows he should be careful. The thought nearly leaves him as he presses down on your throat, restricting your airways and leaving you gasping for air. You already look so fucked out and he hasn’t even touched you yet. Only giving you commands to undress and directing you in which positions he wants you in.

As you lay on your back, Tseng shifts to stand above you, your body pinned between his legs. His movements teasingly slow as he firmly plants his foot on your shoulder, shifting some of his weight to his opposite leg. Every movement of Tseng’s just feels like an absolute tease: the way he slowly unbuckles his belt, the way he pulls his zipper down so painfully slow. Pulling his hardened cock out and stroking himself right above your face. You didn’t realize Tseng would be so into this little kink of yours, part of you hates that you didn’t tell him sooner.

Without notice Tseng pulls away again, making his way towards the couch. Taking a seat with his legs spread, motioning for you to take your place at his feet once more, patiently waiting on his next command. Watching with anticipation as he starts stroking himself again, demanding you crawl to him. You do exactly that, taking your place as quickly as you could between his legs. Tseng grabs your hair, roughly tugging your head towards his hardened member. Immediately opening your mouth and taking as much of his thick cock as you can handle. You know the drill by now, you’re not coming off of his dick until he unloads in your mouth. Gently kicking your legs apart, Tseng begins rubbing his shoe against your core, causing you to whimper around him. Languidly keeping up this motion until you’re coming undone on his boot, Tseng releasing in your mouth, keeping your head in place to ensure you swallow every last drop.

Definitely something that’s going to happen again, but also a very rare occurrence. The next time he makes sure to have a fresh pair of shoes because you’ll be licking the bottom of them. Loves the way your cum makes his shoe glisten, is also going to have you lick his shoes clean. You know he doesn’t like leaving messes.

Sephiroth

A text from you is what kicks all of this off. Requesting that he bought a new pair of work boots, emphasizing that he’s not to wear them yet. As he steps into the apartment you immediately spot the shoebox in his hands and smirk. You can’t help but think that you’re about to ruin this man, so unsuspecting it’s adorable. You’ve learned he’s secretly a man full of kinks, so you’re certain this would go well.

“Get the coat off, change shoes, then meet me in the bedroom.” You’re eager, barely giving him a goddamn hello upon walking through the door. He’s use to your strange requests at this point, you’re an odd person with sometimes even more odd desires. “No greeting at all, just come in and strip. What am I to you?” He says as you walk into the bathroom. He’s not bothered really, coat already being shed and placed neatly on the couch. Making sure to leave the straps on since you love grabbing them as he fucks into you. It’s not like you haven’t fucked him in his uniform before, so what makes this so different that you needed to make a special request? Pulling up his boots and tightening them he chooses to stay put in the living room, making himself comfortable on the couch.

Walking into the room naked you catch him sitting on the couch. Christ, he practically engulfs your sofa with his large stature. You love how small you are in comparison to him. His whole body engulfs yours, making you feel trapped. “You’re not at all where I asked you to be.”

“Still no explanation or is this another physical presentation?” Oh he’s catching on, at least you’ve been teaching him well. With a nod of your head you confirm that this would certainly be a physical presentation. Crawling onto his lap, staring into his eyes for a moment before kissing him desperately. Grabbing his face as a rush of endorphins swell your chest, yearning for one another so desperately, lips, teeth and tongues clash together.

Recoiling for a split second, you glance down to see Sephiroth watching you breathlessly through his bangs. Gripping your waist he starts grinding against you, causing you to both let out a soft moan. Settling your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. Shifting to the side you straddle one of his legs, grinding yourself against him. You can’t help that you keep going lower and lower, until your core is hovering right above his foot.

Pressing yourself against him with a satisfied moan, you don’t hold yourself back, letting every time you’ve pictured this moment come to mind. Doing your best to gain control so you’re not grinding against his foot in a frenzied manner. You’re making his boot so wet and god the way Sephiroth looks at you, with a mix of astonishment and curiosity, driving yourself closer to the edge. You just couldn’t help it when you came undone prematurely, cursing yourself for not lasting longer. Don’t worry you’ve thoroughly peaked Sephiroth's interest, his voice playful and tinted with a bit of excitement “Oh, we’re not anywhere near done.”

He’s going to experiment with this far more than expected. Loves the power play that comes along with it. He’ll step on any part of you that you ask, without a doubt. This one also loves to see your cum on his boot. The way you whimper when he steps on your face drives him insane. Sephiroth loves it when you kiss his feet, something about you wanting to be the very ground he steps on makes his heart swell.

Zack

Yes, yes, the fucking puppy. Hear me out, the sweetest ones are the freakiest people. He didn’t really mean it when he jokingly asked if he could step on you. Though it was so out of the blue you’re unsure if it was a joke or not. The thought of you pressed against his boot quickly becoming enticing to him. Besides, if you didn’t want this to happen, you wouldn’t have said yes. He'll take your answer and run with it, bringing it up during foreplay. After all, Zack’s just as adventurous as he is energetic.

“God, you really like this don’t you?” He’s practically cooing at you, watching as you squirm under his boot. Another face down and ass up scenario on the floor. Zack’s perched on the edge of the bed, left foot propped up on your ass while he presses his opposite into your face. Leaning back onto the palms of his hands, a cocky, shit eating grin in place that you only ever see while he’s doming you.

If you want to fuck yourself on his boot he’ll let you. Though, it’ll be the most he’s ever edged you in your time together. Moving his foot the moment he notices you’re getting close. He can’t help it, not when you’re already about to come undone. Zack’s voice still playful as he teases you, “You couldn’t even last five minutes?” No, not when our usually innocent puppy gives you such a filthy look while he rubs you with the underside of his boot.

I feel like to everyone's surprise, Zack has impressively pretty feet. Yes, you can lick them. He likes to switch, so don’t be surprised when he’s asking you to step on him in return. He’s so eager bout it, practically bouncing up and down as he waits for you to press your foot against his face. Definitely prefers you barefoot, he likes licking the entire sole of your foot. Peppering kisses along your foot, almost tickling you but feeling so good. Shows the entire foot love, not a toe goes missed. My guy is incredibly efficient when it comes to making sure he’s licked every single part of you.

Enjoys footjobs from you. The first time he didn’t even bother to hold himself off, the way your feet were pressing his cock against his abdomen, rubbing him so teasingly with the perfect amount of pressure. You’ve got him making a sticky mess of himself within moments, cum slowly leaking out of his cock. Begging you not stop just yet, rutting against your feet as he tries to gain more friction. The way Zack moans is absolutely slutty as he falls apart under your touch. Uses this kink on a rare occasion, well, kind of, he often finds himself focused on your feet.

#sephiroth #ff7 #sephiroth x reader #final fantasy vii #ffvii #zack fair #zack fair x reader #headcanons #tseng ff7 #tseng of the turks #tseng x reader

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tksfandomhellhole · 6 months

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Apparently the outer wilds fandom is somewhat popping on tumblr, so I figured I'd offer something of actual substance to you all: A Pre-Canon OWV Founders fic, with heavy inspirations from Elwensa's designs on their dynamics.

Summary: In which everything that could go wrong during a routine trip into space does, and it takes all of them to fix it.

Characters: Feldspar, Hornfels, Gossan, Slate

Tags/Warnings: POV Third Person/POV Alternating, Near Death Experiences, and of course plenty of crashes and explosions

[AO3 Version Here]

Hornfels and Gossan sat idly in the makeshift ground control room that currently doubled as Outer Wilds Ventures' Observatory.

"Observatory" was a bit of a stretch, as it was mostly just the cobbled together bits and bobs that made up the ground control room plus a telescope Hornfels had just managed to upgrade. The program was still in it's pilot phase–Gossan rolled their eyes whenever anyone said that, which is why Feldspar made it a point to bring it up whenever they could–but in due time, they knew the program would only grow.

They'd already managed to land successfully on the Attlerock and a few of the other planets even, and had planned to start work on some sort of space outpost once Slate was finished with the latest ship.

Whenever Slate was questioned on the progress of said ship however, they'd bark that "It'd help if someone didn't waste so much of my time with constant repairs on their ship."

Today was a routine space trip to Brittle Hollow, and they were waiting for Feldspar to report back that they'd made it back to their ship and they were heading back home.

"Feldspar to ground control, do you copy?"

"We copy, Feldspar!" Hornfels chirped cheerily, happy to hear back from them so soon.

"About to take this death trap Slate calls a ship off this death trap of a planet we call Brittle Hollow, I've gotten all I need from it today. ETA five minutes."

Gossan sighs, inaudible in the background, and Hornfels has to stifle a chuckle. "Sure thing, Feldspar, did you want me to pass your comments onto Slate when we tell them to clear the launchpad?"

Feldspar clears their throat nervously, "Uhh, that won't be necessary ground control, I might need to stay in their good graces today..." they trailed off, and Hornfels exchanges a knowing smirk with Gossan, the telltale sign that Feldspar had managed to break something critical again.

"Uh-huhhh," Hornfels draws out, "And you're sure you can make it back to Timber Hearth in one piece?"

Feldspar scoffs "What me? I could fly this thing in my sleep. You think I can't make it back without the nav systems?... and the lights... and the landing gear..." Their voice trails off uncertainly. "Please don't tell Slate before I get there." They whisper, as if afraid rattling off the damages done had already summoned them.

Hornfels and Gossan laugh heartily at their friend's expense, Hornfels wiping an imaginary tear from their eye before responding, "Well, just do your best not to break off anything else on your way back, and you might be able to escape Slate's wrath."

"Aye-aye ground control, liftoff has already been achieved. There won't be a single other scratch on the ship if I can h–Oh crap-!"

The sound of Feldspar's panicked shout is quickly overtaken by a horrible crashing noise, as metal, wood, and glass splinters and shatters over the line.

For a heartstopping moment Gossan and Hornfels are frozen, eyes wide in fear.

"Feldspar?! Feldspar come in!" Hornfels shrieks into the radio, already frantically trying to orient the telescope towards their last known location. They wait with bated breath for Feldspar's response, to no avail.

A sharp intake of breath from Hornfels draws Gossan's attention, "Hornfels, what do you see, where are they?!"

"Th-They're hurtling away from Brittle Hollow into space!" Hornfels says, looking up from the telescope to check the readings from the pilot monitor, "Vitals are low–Feldspar might not be conscious!"

Gossan grips their arm so tightly it'll bruise later. "How many minutes of oxygen did they have left?!"

"S-Seven I-I think, but they might've punctured their suit and could be losing oxygen at a faster rate!"

"Stars above–" Gossan is already tripping over their own feet as they run out the observatory door. "SLATE! SLAAATE!"

Slate jolts from where they're at, hitting their head on the underside of the ship they were working on. Rubbing their head, they lift the welding helmet from their face. "Gossan? What's the big–"

Gossan yanks Slate out from under the ship, shoving them unceremoniously to the side as they hop in. "I need to get to Feldspar," they shout, "They're running out of oxygen!" Gossan is already slamming the hatch closed and their helmet on, sliding into the suit faster than they've ever managed, even in a race against Feldspar.

Slate is up now, and has stumbled a few feet away from the launchpad, but there's an unmistakeable frenzy to their movements, as they wave their arms desperately for Gossan's attention, trying their hardest to yell over the din of the engines already firing up.

"Gossan, wait! That ship isn't space-ready yet! It won't last past the–"

Gossan gives a quick two-fingered salute, uncaring of Slate's panic, and launches into the sky.

Slate books it into the observatory just as Gossan clears the atmosphere, "Hornfels, what the hell just happened?!"

Hornfels doesn't look up from where they're frantically readjusting the telescope. "It's Feldspar, their ship collided with one of the meteors from Hollow's Lantern, and it looks like they just barely managed to eject, but now they're drifting out into space, completely unresponsive!"

Slate is already gripping both sides of their head, tugging painfully at their ears, "Hornfels we need visual on Gossan! That ship they took isn't going to last much longer!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Hornfels responds, voice shrill.

Gossan was well aware the structural integrity of the ship was deteoriating fast. It seemed that trip through the atmosphere had already put more force than it could handle on the poor unreinforced parts, and the ship groaned and creaked as Gossan coaxed every last bit of power out of it. They were still too far away from Feldspar, their best friend still just a blip on the horizon. Just a little more!

The lights in the cockpit start flashing a headache inducing red just as several ear-piercing alarms went off in tandem, and Gossan clicks their tongue in frustration. So much for the hope that they could retrieve Feldspar in the ship.

They double check their EVA suit and oxygen, making sure everything is tightly sealed, and grab their jetpack and repair tools. They couldnt fit the medkit, so they'd have to worry about injuries after they landed safely.

...If they made it back safely.

They're just about to open the emergency hatch and go careening into space themself, before they notice the console.

Slate had added an updated graphic to the newer models it seems, to indicate what parts were broken.

Gossan hated to admit it, but Slate could be a genius sometimes, not that they had time now to really appreciate the usefulness of their pal's latest experimental feature.

Because right now they were just putting it together that the shrill piercing alarm was indicative of a reactor failure.

Gossan is pretty sure Slate said that one's bad–well they were all bad, but Slate had said that one in particular meant "start praying and be prepared to get your ass kicked when you get back"–so they could only panic as the invisible timer continued to count down.

"I have visual!" Hornfels declared, triumphantly, before they were shoved out of the way by Slate.

That was definitely the reactor alarm flashing.

Gossan wasn't going to make it out of the blast radius in time unless–

Slate flipped the frequency switch to Gossan's suit radio so fast it almost snapped off.

"GOSSAN, USE THE AUTOPILOT!"

At the sound of Slate's voice screeching in their ears, Gossan was spurred into action, just managing to find the autopilot controls.

They lock onto the furthest celestial body, and smash the button, jumping out the hatch and engaging their jetpack with a speed they hadn't known possible, watching as the autopilot took the ticking time bomb of a ship further away from them until–

The ship explodes, several pieces flying off into space in all different directions, and Gossan raises their arm instinctively to shield their face from any straggling parts. Thankfully none seem to pelt them as they reorient themself towards where they'd last saw Feldspar.

"Gossan, do you copy?!" Hornfels seemed to have wrestled control of the mic back from Slate, and had taken over again on ground control.

"I copy, Hornfels! Approaching on Feldspar's position now!"

"Good, they still haven't stirred, so you might have to do all the heavylifting on this one!" Hornfels tries to joke, nervously. They were already doing the calculations in their head, and they didn't want to admit that there was a high chance the fuel and oxygen Gossan had on hand wouldn't last the distance between them and Timber Hearth.

Gossan smiles a little despite themself, "Me picking up Feldspar's slack? What's new, Hornfels?"

They fall back into a tense silence as they approach on Feldspar's limp form, hooking an arm around them and trying to stabilize both of theirs velocity.

"I made it to Feldspar, Hornfels!" Gossan reports, giving Feldspar a visual inspection. The side of their face was bleeding sluggishly, and they looked pained even in their unconsciousness. But it looked like their ship had managed to take the brunt of the damage, as their helmet was still intact, and they could only find minor suit tears along Feldspar's frame, where glass and wood had embedded themselves.

Gossan breathes a sigh of relief, "Somehow their visor stayed intact, but they're definitely out cold and I think I'll need to repair some suit punctures!" They inform, grabbing the suit repair tape from their pockets.

"Thank stars, Gossan that's great! Could you get a look at the oxygen tank on their back when you're done, what's it say?"

Gossan finishes removing some glass and wrapping the tape around some punctures along Feldspar's leg, and orbits around their friend, making one last inspection, before turning to the tank on their friend's back. They frown at the display. "Only four minutes, Hornfels..."

There's an audible intake of air on the otherside. Four minutes of air between there and Timber Hearth would run an incredible risk of running out before they even made it into its orbit.

Gossan looks at Feldspar's face, pained and lifeless, and makes an executive decision they know Feldspar is never going to let them hear the end of.

"Hornfels, I'm gonna swap our oxygen supplies, I can't risk Feldspar running out of oxygen before we make it back!"

"But, Gossan...!" Hornfels swallows the rest of their protest, knowing exactly why Gossan is making that choice.

Feldspar was a foolhardy explorer, an incredible astronaut–and just about the sickest hatchling as a child. Their lungs were weaker than everyone else's, and they'd spent so much time in their youth bedridden from their lungs' refusal to work properly.

But that same sick little hatchling had always dreamed of going to the stars, and well, who were they to stop them?

"...Okay. Be careful, Gossan!"

There's a breathless moment as Gossan detaches the hose from their suit and oxygen supply first, swapping it out for the one connected to Feldspar's suit, before scrambling to take Feldspar's oxygen tank off their back and attaching their hose to it instead.

There's a gasp as air fills their lungs again, and Gossan gives a shaky, "I'm g-good," in response to Hornfels query of "Is everything alright?"

Hornfels and Gossan let out twin sighs of relief as Gossan hooks an arm under Feldspar's shoulder and around their waist.

"Alright I'm heading towards the Attlerock, I'm going to try to re-enter Timber Hearth's orbit from there!"

"Ok, but hurry back, Gossan. I think even Slate was holding their breath back there for a moment."

There's an indignant "Hey!" in the background, and Gossan smiles a little once more, "Things must look pretty dire if even Slate's worried, huh?" They remark.

"As if! The only thing I'm worried about is that I won't be able to properly chew the two of you out for this when you get back if Feldspar's not awake!"

Gossan smirks, as the body of the Attlerock slowly approaches, "Well, maybe if you made the jetpacks easier to maneuver with only one free hand you'd have a better chance, Slate."

"Hey, you were the one who wanted 8 axes of movement rather than four! How do you think I managed to implement the other four? But... your suggestion is noted." And Gossan can almost see the abashed look on Slate's face, as they realize they're basically admitting they're worried.

Hornfels continues to track the pair's flight with worry, the timer in their head ticking down far too fast in comparison to their slowed speed. Feldspar was slowing Gossan down too much...!

"Slate, I don't think they're going to make it in time, they're not moving fast enough!" Hornfels whispered urgently, and if Gossan heard it they didn't comment.

Slate's eyes widen at this, voice caught in their throat as they search for a response. What could they even say? What could they even do? The two of them weren't pilots and Slate didn't have any other tech to help them, not after Gossan flew off in their only remaining protot–

Wait, maybe not their only remaining prototype...

Sure they could go get it from their workshop but-!

Slate is NOT a pilot. Their domain was rocket science-ing, not rocket piloting.

"Gossan only has two minutes of oxygen left, they're not gonna make it to the Attlerock before that runs out, Slate!" Hornfels' grip on the telescope was so tight the metal was beginning to creak.

Ohh, Slate was so killing those two when they got back!

"Keep talking to them! We need to keep Gossan focused!" Slate directs, startling Hornfels when they grab a helmet off the table.

"Slate, where are you–?!" What did Slate need with the improved pilot helmet they had both been working on?

"Keep talking!" Slate reiterates as they run out, putting the helmet on their head.

Gossan heard the one minute warning on their oxygen go off, and swallowed anxiously. The Attlerock was still a ways away, and no matter how they shifted Feldspar they couldn't seem to make this thing go any faster.

The air was already starting to feel thinner, their vision starting to darken around the edges.

"Gossan, stay focused! You're almost there!" Hornfels pleaded, but it was beginning to sound so distant.

They had been moving with such urgency, but now they floated gently as they approached the Attlerock, getting too lightheaded to keep their facts straight.

They finally manage to enter the orbit of the Attlerock, and land none too gracefully on the barren surface.

They need to stand up, need to drag their friend to- to...

Where were they going?

They couldn't remember, but they needed to. They needed to keep moving, needed to remember what they were doing before they...

Before what?

And actually why did they need to keep moving? They'd already made it to solid ground. That had been the goal, hadn't it?

They could relax now, surely, they think, sitting down heavily, pulling their friend onto their lap.

A nap couldn't hurt.

Their eyes slip closed, arm locked around their companion and they start to drift off.

But there's this annoying buzzing sound, like a fly zipping around their ears, and they blearily blink them back open in annoyance. Why were there flies in space?

Well if they focused, it sounded more like a crackling, like a fire or a radio maybe.

They get the vague sense that that might be important, so they try to make out the sounds better. It's slow going, but they can definitely recognize someone shouting now. Kinda strange though, it almost sounded like–

"–GOSSAN, SO HELP ME STARS, IF YOU TOOK MY LATEST PROTOTYPE AND BLEW IT UP IN SPACE JUST TO DIE ON THE ATTLEROCK I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF!"

With no small amount of effort, Gossan stands, dragging Feldspar up with them, barely managing to loop an arm around their waist. The world is spinning, and they can hardly keep their eyes open.

With one final jump they press down on the accelerator just managing to clear the Attlerock's orbit, Feldspar in tow.

They feel more than they see that they're floating inbetween the Attlerock and Timber Hearth's orbits, and using their last moments of lucidity, they angle themself and Feldspar towards Timber Hearth, before pressing on the control stick one last time, curling Feldspar closer into them.

They don't even see if they made it into orbit before the world fades away below them.

With a burst of water, Slate's feet leave the ground just as Hornfels screams that they're both going to crash and die on impact.

Slate isn't a pilot–and they pray their feet never have to leave the ground again after this–but with nothing but a helmet and their prototype jetpack on they use the initial burst from the geyser to launch towards the rapidly descending streak across the sky.

They jerk and veer all over the place, as the handling is much much looser on their prototype, and Slate thinks that they're either going to be flattened into a fishcake by the end of this or save their friends, and quite possibly both, as they bear down on them, but there's no time to think about it only do–!

Slate spreads their arms wide and braces for impact, intercepting the pair just moments before they'd have connected with the ground.

All three of them go sailing another 40 feet as they crash, eventually tumbling to a halt just at the edge of a patch of forest.

It takes a few minutes for Slate to open their eyes against the ringing in their ears, and everything hurts, but they're intact and back on solid ground in one piece, which hopefully means–

They stand up so fast they get dizzy, stumbling to where Gossan and Feldspar lay a few feet away.

"...SSAN, FELDSPAR, SLATE DOES ANYONE COPY?! ARE YOU GUYS STILL ALIVE?!" Slate winces at the sound of Hornfels shouting over the comms in utter hysteria, rubbing at their head before they respond.

"Hornfels, it's me, I'm with Gossan and Feldspar, we crash landed some...some direction I can't really tell right now from the village... I haven't checked on them yet, they might need medical attention!"

"Slate?! Ohh... Oh.. Thank stars...THANK YOU STARS!" And Slate thinks they hear sobbing on the other end before Hornfels finishes, "I-I'll start heading your way with assistance!"

With that sorted, Slate switches the helmet off, dropping onto their knees next to Feldspar and Gossan's prone forms.

Slate snatches their helmets off, listening as the suits depressurize, shaking them both vigorously by the shoulders. "Feldspar, Gossan, wake up!"

Surprisingly, it's Feldspar who stirs first, groaning loudly, eyes blinking opening slowly one pair at a time. Pupils are different sizes, Slate notes, so yep that's definitely a concussion, but–

"Feldspar, you're alive!" Slate launches into a hug just as they sit up, before Feldspar can even make sense of what's what or who's who.

"Whu...haah?" Feldspar mumbles incoherently, but Slate just hugs them tighter, like they might disappear if they let go.

Eventually Slate thinks better of it, removing themself from Feldspar and clearing their throat, just as the sounds of Gossan stirring reaches their ears.

"Gossan!" Slate turns back to them now, shaking them a little, "Y-you did it! Wake up!"

Gossan makes a noise of protest against the movements, but eventually they blink their eyes open, sitting up straight, rubbing at their face. "Slate?" Gossan asks, confused, before they remember–

"FELDSPAR?!" they shout, and upon seeing their friend sitting up, launches into a hug of their own.

Feldspar grunts at the impact, but manages to brace themself this time, looking a little more alert now even as they fumble their words. "'M sorry, Gossan..."

Gossan doesn't respond, sniffling loudly into their shoulder, and Feldspar knows they're going to be in worse trouble than they thought after this.

"Oh gee, we're so sorry, Slate for getting your only remaining ships wrecked, including your super cool new experimental ship, and also thank you for saving us from our own stupid deaths, can you ever find it in your heart to forgive us?" Slate snarks, when they've decided the pair has had enough time together.

"Slate?" Feldspar asks, as if only noticing them for the first time now, "What's with the get-up?"

Feldspar and Gossan both seem to notice it at the same time, gasping in shock.

Slate removes the helmet, striding over to them and bending down to angrily push an accusatory finger in their chest, "Well after you wrecked your ship again, Gossan went and took MY, as in I-haven't-even-finished-building-this-one-yet-so-it-was-still-mine, ship into space to save you from becoming a floating corpse! But oh wait, that's kind of hard to do when YOU BOTH NO LONGER HAVE A SHIP, so of course I had to do the one thing I never EVER want to have to do again, to keep you guys from becoming fish paste!"

"Slate, did you–"

"YOU FLEW?!"

Slate slips the prototype jetpack off their shoulders, legs trembling as the adrenaline leaks out, before their legs drop out from under them entirely, Gossan just barely managing to catch them by the shoulders. Slate leans heavily into the touch now, too tired to put up a facade. "And if you ever make me do it again, I'm grounding you for life." They mumble into Gossan's shoulder.

Gossan yelps as Slate suddenly goes limp against them, exchanging an incredulous glance with Feldspar.

"Poor guy must've crashed," Feldspar says, "You know how much they hate space flight."

There's a beat of silence, before Feldspar and Gossan burst out into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

They'd actually survived...

Feldspar's laughter tapers off with a sharp inhale, "Stars, I'm actually getting lightheaded again." They say, hand rising to clutch the side of their head that wasn't sticky with blood with a grimace.

"Let's just wait for Hornfels to show up." Gossan agrees, patting the grass next to them as they shift Slate to be draped more comfortably across their lap.

Feldspar slots into place at their side, laying down in the grass.

Seems no one would be flying for awhile... they'd really have to make it up to Slate for this one. Hell, Gossan and Hornfels too.

But as Gossan's hand wraps around theirs, giving it a comforting squeeze, Feldspar thinks maybe it's okay they'll all be grounded for a little while.

#outer wilds #outer wilds ventures #fanfic #my writing #feldspar #gossan #slate #hornfels

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