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throwaway-yandere · 6 months

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𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 (Yandere!Neuvillette/Reader)

a/n: this was inspired by my favorite childhood TV show, House MD & Oedipus Rex. The plot was supposed to be something else but dingleaf happened one 4AM ago. Anyways, welcome to our first Throwaway-Thursday this End of Year Blues!!!

Unreliable Synopsis: Everyone held their breath when they heard ex-defense attorney (Y/n) say these words: "Your Honor, I would like to challenge Champion Duelist Clorinde to clear my charges."

CW: yandere themes, reader has so much spite I can fry an egg, hurt/NO COMFORT. Please prioritize your mental health if these CWs are triggering to you. (Note: The plot happens a month before the Fontaine AQ, so he doesn't know about what happened to Vautrin.)

“Why the pale expression? Has the trial last week caused you tremendous pain?”

"Such pallor is caused by pity, not grief.” Neuvilette made his fragile excuse to reassure Furina, but the words did not reach her ears. The ringing of raindrops outside was louder, more convincing. Fontaine is vexed with storms near-daily. The sad verdant earth will soon sponge and dry the hydro dragon’s tears as always, but every man hopes they won’t drown first.

At first, he was convinced what he harbored was pity. For the pessimists, Fontaine is a nation where virtuous pagans paraded themselves as rich and devoted ran amok. Absolute justice is a cartoonish ideal– lack of entertainment is the death sentence.

Lady Furina was starting to believe he lives his life by a certain suspect’s final envoi:

Count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.

"Are you insane?!" Navia held your shoulders, eyes wide.

This was the worst thing you could ever do to your best friend.

"Maybe I am." You told her, chuckling slightly as your thumbs caressed the nerves behind her palms. Navia, as intimidating as her occupation was, never once gripped you this hard.

You wish you could hug her fully.

But these prison bars are holding you back.

"Can you blame me, Nav?"

"Don't." She glared. "Don't do this."

Navia trembled.

"Please, don't follow Dad..."

The blonde woman was reduced to a young, hopeless girl. You saw a reflection of the small Navia who lost Callas, and that short glimpse was stretched into a whole tragic spectacle.

"I'm begging you, (Y/n). Please… d-don't go away. Don't leave me too…"

This was the cruelest you've ever been to someone you love.

But also the kindest you've been to yourself.

"There's nothing else I can do, Nav."

"W-We can always do something! There must be a way!" She screamed gutturally. "We'll find a way to make that Chief Justice pay instead. If there's a will—"

"But there's none. There is no will in me left."

"Then hold on to mine, for Archon's sake! Depend on me!"

"What for? We both lack the means to grasp our Archon's hand." You shook your head, grinning without life.

You wiped the tears off her cheeks. In a small fraction of time, you trembled, showing a bit of soul.

"Our Goddess has abandoned me. Everyone and everything but you had." You said. "Dear Navia, don't make this harder for yourself. Let me go."

"(Y/n)..."

Her grip relaxed.

Navia finally let go.

But that was not the scene's last word.

Clorinde sprinted towards your cell, seething in electric rage. Navia stepped back. Their relationship might be less than cordial, but Clorinde was also your friend.

And after all these years of friendship, she never would've guessed you would elicit such melancholic frustration within her.

She knows she'll come out of this duel victorious.

She knows if she doesn't say a word, she'll be the one to bury you six feet under.

Clorinde's fists clenched and her breathing grew harsh and difficult, unable to accept your inhumane gaze.

"Is this your solution, (Y/n)?"

From the tone of her voice, this would not be a pleasant conversation. One wrong word, and you'll see a side of the Champion Duelist not even her court opponents knew.

You nodded.

"Yes."

"State your reason."

"Because this is the only way I'll die with dignity."

…

"Die… with dignity?"

Something inside her cracked.

"Yes." You nodded again, becoming uncertain. "At least with this, there would be something Neuvillette cannot decide for me. And (Y/n) (L/n) chooses a dignified death."

“DEATH HAS NO DIGNITY!!!”

You and Navia flinched at the sudden sound.

Clorinde screamed, feeling her eyes burn. Her veins became more prominent in her face and her skin reddish. The sheer force of her scream was enough to bring your full attention to her, yet to the duelist, her uncharacteristic outburst meant nothing.

“DEATH WILL ALWAYS BE UGLY!!! DEATH– DEATH IS NEVER BEAUTIFUL!!! IT IS ALWAYS SINISTER— LOATHSOME AND VILE.”

"Clor—"

She pulled you by your collar.

“There– there is only dignity in living.” She trembled, casting her gaze down. “You can live with dignity– but you can’t die with it.”

For a while, only her unsteady breathing could be heard.

Clorinde eventually calmed down, her heavy sighs and frantic pants slowing as the red hue of her face somewhat returned to its usual pale complexion. She couldn’t afford a second more to process her growing grief.

"Find another duelist."

As a successor to the Marechaussee Hunters, there's no one else you need but her.

"But I want you."

"(Y/n)."

"You've always been my idol, Clorinde." You told her solemnly. "I always thought you at least made my clients have a clean death under your blade."

Clorinde paused.

That, she cannot deny.

She did spare mercy to the people you defended. But she doesn't understand how you fail to comprehend why she couldn't bear to bring herself to enact the same reprieve for you.

"Retrieve your gloves. I don't and I won't accept your challenge." Clorinde closed her eyes. "Live your days in the Fortress instead. Death is not the solution."

You laughed. As if you'd let yourself be under Wriothesley's guidance when you can smell from miles away that he's one of Neuvillette's lap dogs.

"Isn't this suffering enough?" You spoke with a casual lack of self-preservation. "I don't want to live under Neuvillette's scrutinizing eyes. Not anymore."

You looked up.

That empty smile was no longer on your face.

And that was somehow more frightening than it should be.

"So do your job as a champion and end it all, just like what you've done to Uncle Callas and the others."

Your last conversation with the Duke was not as memorable as when he caught you spiking the Iudex’s cup, yet you’d give his personality credit where it is due. His was certainly a memorable one.

Wriothesley stood a few steps away from the bars while you purposefully cornered yourself. The distance was noticeable. It was clear that neither of you was close to each other. This was mere formality brought about by one of your should’ve-been victims.

“So, you sure don’t want to be roommates?” Wriothesley asked. "Or you know, see old friends and family down there?"

"I'd rather not disappoint them with my presence."

“So, you're a coward?" He asked, intending to provoke you.

"Maybe?" you answered, mimicking his tone. "Wouldn't know. Last time I checked, I was an honorable defense attorney. But suddenly, the Iudex had a change of heart."

"Neuvillette didn't have a change of heart. You are a terrorist."

You laughed sardonically, "suppose so."

You both weren't entirely wrong. Friends and foe alike know you've turned to rebellion after the justice system had failed you repeatedly. Neuvillette's lovestruck fixation was merely the final straw.

“You’re walking on a death sentence.”

“No shit,” you clicked your tongue and continued. “What else do you think this is for?”

“The Iudex was convinced that you’re acting out because you had a guilty conscience, and he’s very willing to drop those charges and forgive you.”

“Guilty conscience?! HA!!!” You laughed. “As if I felt guilty for what I’ve done. If anything, I’m rejoicing.”

Wriothesley smirked, but it faded quickly.

“I told him the same, but then he says if that were true, you’re probably just masking it to play the villain’s part.”

“Do you believe every word he says?”

“No,” Wriothesley did not hesitate to answer. “I know a criminal when I see one. And I also know when a criminal can get away with their mess.”

“The jury thinks otherwise– the oratrice cannot be wrong.” You snickered. “I’m as guilty as they come, hands filled with arsenic and all.”

"You can still get out of this. Sure, you'll get a stern talking-to— a lecture on the virtue of honor and respect. But in the end, he'd give you a second chance. He's still hoping that a mutual agreement will arise in the end."

You expressed your disinterest with a droopy-eyed “Blah, blah, blah…”

Wriothesley frowned.

“You’ll make him depressed.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“And you think I care? Fontaine can flood next month. Just as long as I die tomorrow it’s none of my business.”

…

“Well, it’s your call,” Wriothesley said. “If you’re willing to throw your life away like that, then you probably wouldn’t survive a week underwater.”

He wrapped a hand around one of the bars.

“You know, (Y/n),” the Duke looked at you dead in the eye. “Marriage with the Iudex isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

You laughed.

“What makes you say that?” You smiled through gritted teeth. “Are you his second spouse?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “You could’ve just lived a bit more silently.”

You glared.

“Are you saying I should live like a caged bird? That I should accept that our system here is rigged?”

“I’m saying you should’ve been more grateful with what you have.”

You scoffed.

“Wow.”

An awkward silence followed after. It wasn’t as if a quip was hard to form– but the historical context behind whom you were speaking to made weighing empathy over spite a challenge. You knew of his past, his name or lack thereof, and quiet allegiance to Neuvillette. Sigewinne had made sure you knew of it to glorify the adoptive “father” of the Melusines. Wriothesley owes him his survival.

But "Wriothesley" of all people should've known that those who know morbid truths cannot be silenced forever.

And Neuvillette owes you a peaceful death.

… The Duke sighed, noticing that his admiration for the Iudex did not align with his current morals.

“We’ll forever agree to disagree on this, won’t we?” He asked.

“Hopefully not forever, I don’t want to stay here for much longer.”

Wriothesley chuckled at your morbid joke. But before he could walk away with a less-than-heavy heart, you shifted from your corner.

“Hey, Wriothesley?”

He turned to look at you– your hand specifically.

It’s a letter.

“Mind handing these to the authorities?”

Wriothesley’s eyes widened.

“Is that–”

“It’s a written confession,” you chuckled. “Don’t ask me how I got a pen and paper. I know that damn bastard forbids anyone to lend me anything that’ll help me write a final will. Gotta say, at least his etiquette lessons had some use. At least my last words are in pretty cursive.”

He didn’t say another word.

…

The Duke left the room, empty-handed.

…

No one wants to see the Iudex more heartbroken than he already is now.

The interrogation room was small, but not to the point that there was a minimal budget for its construction. You sat on one end behind the glass divider after one of the guards took your letter. There were only plain walls and two lightbulbs on the ceiling. At the center of the room is a table with two chairs on either side, no pen or paper.

Nothing but an empty table.

But the quiet comfort was gone when the man of the hour closed the door behind him. As the ticking of the clock becomes more softer, the two individuals would be forced to sit for the duration of this “interrogation.”

It was none other than your husband, the Iudex, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and the bane of your existence.

Monsieur Neuvillette.

His back was straight; his eyes, “stern” and focused. He clasped his hands together, fingers intertwined. His gaze searched for something— regret, remorse, anything that could make the upcoming nightmare disappear.

Neuvillette's voice was “calm” and “collected.”

But you didn’t buy it. Not with his messy hair, his forlorn look, his frown. You rarely saw him cry. You had a gut feeling he hides it by standing amidst heavy rain, but this time the redness of his eyes and puffiness of his cheeks says it all.

It’s a heavy downpour outside.

He can’t be bothered to hide his tears from the public eye anymore.

"In your own words, please explain why you had attempted to poison me."

Your eyes lit up. He immediately wished he could take those words back.

So, he’s still in denial. Neuvillette seriously didn’t think you wrote the letter. He probably didn’t think it was your handwriting. It was almost insulting.

“Oh, Monsieur! You are as generous as they say, finally letting your spouse speak for themselves!” You grinned sarcastically. “And they say chivalry is dead! DEAD!!!”

He cringed at your pointed enthusiasm.

You recount the day you attempted to murder him, describing how you had slipped the poison into his favorite cup. How you didn’t really care to hope it wouldn’t be noticed since what mattered more to you was his death over your own freedom. The more detailed you became, the more it suffocated him.

“But, as you can see, you’re alive and I am behind this glass window,” you tapped the divider. “Away from you, at last.”

He bit his lip.

“(Y/n)—”

“I hate you.”

He breathed in shakily.

“I know.”

“And yet you still fell for it.” Your voice suddenly softened.

“Why?” You continued. “Why did you believe my act for the past month? I know you had your suspicions, so why? You knew I was just playing along to get your guard down– to act like some loving housewife so I can find the opportunity to smother you with a pillow– so… why?”

“Maybe…”

Neuvillette took a deep breath.

“Maybe it’s because dying by your hands would be a dignified way to go.”

Your eyes widened. The air turned to glue. Breathing became a challenge.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. Monsieur Neuvillette was serious. No shifting position can make you feel comfortable.

Because Neuvillette in his most sincere form of speech is the most brutal.

“I just wished to be loved by y-you,” his voice cracked. “Even for a moment, even for a lie, I would die to know I was loved by you.”

His face crumpled, tears flowing freely. He reached a hand out against the glass window, his palm marking the divider. Neuvillette was breathing erratically, desperate to hold you. The pain in his chest was getting heavier, much like the rain outside. You almost couldn’t hear him from all the background noise, and you wished that was what happened.

This was the man who took your clients' happiness. The man who took Uncle Callas away with his rationale. The reason for your unhappiness.

And yet, you couldn't think of any other person who would love you as much as he does.

“Y-You know me for who I-I am,” he gasped out. “I am but a weak and beaten down man w-who couldn’t express himself like a human being. Y-You were there, you comforted me with not a smile, an umbrella, or thoughtless words of encouragement— you accepted me for who I was with a warm embrace.”

You hated it.

You hate how your heart ached for the man that made your life a living hell.

“I was the leader of the Revolution and I needed intel against you, nothing more.” You spat. This time, you were the least convincing one. “It was an act of kindness I shouldn’t have done.”

“Yet it has helped me more than you had accounted for.”

“And never before have I ever regretted playing savior.”

“I was merely attempting to reform your life,” Neuvillette breathlessly spoke. “I wished to set you on the right path. You were a gifted individual with great connections. Your peers had high expectations of you. For you to throw that away for nonsense activism— no— terrorism is heartbreaking. And I—”

Neuvillette gulped.

“I didn’t want to face you on the other side of the courtroom.”

You laughed.

“Some things are just fated to happen,” you said. “An old astrologist told me that. She told me I was bound to get myself in deep legal trouble. Growing up, I figured it might as well be a cause worth doing if it’ll lead me to that path eventually. Why else did I become a defense attorney in such a hellishly political land?”

He trembled, tears falling at a faster rate.

You almost wanted to reach out and wipe those tears away.

Almost.

“Must you treat your life as though it is disposable?” Neuvillette asked, choking slightly. “Why are you…”

You digressed. “You’re not going to retract those charges are you?”

“I did.”

You frowned.

“But Lady Furina would not allow it,” he shook, frustrated. “She found out about your past, your hatred for her so-called incompetences and published lese-majestes.”

“Good for her, good for her.”

Neuvillette’s hand slowly slid down.

“I can’t… I cannot watch this…”

You felt a surge of confidence, for Neuvillette was indeed devoid of hope. You've never seen him with his head hung low. What went through Neuvillette's mind remained uncertain. Perhaps, just a small piece of him knew you could never be his. Perhaps he knew that you were destined for a doomed fate.

But it doesn't matter.

All that mattered was that you were free.

That was a month ago.

The rain had been going on nonstop for thirty days, and the Hydro Archon had every right to worry.

“I can’t sleep…” Neuvillette thought he spoke out loud, but it was just a whisper. He’s growing weak, his sleep deprivation catching up to him.

“Then come lay your head down,” she yawned slightly, fanning her breath. “Such heavy thoughts need a place to rest.”

“An irresistible offer,” Neuvillette mused humorlessly. “But I must decline.”

“Oh Neuvillette, when will you relax from this role you carry?” The archon spoke rhetorically.

Neuvillette chuckled sadly.

The heavy downpour wouldn’t stop.

Perhaps…

Perhaps when the day comes and he is stripped of dignity.

Maybe then, he’ll have his rest.

Neuvillette had already forgotten why he was crying that fateful day. But in those memories, he recalls he was callow and unformed. Was it due to an unfavorable trial? The problem evades him. His recollection remains only in how the people reacted around him. Many asked if he was okay and he'd reply with a simple "I'm fine". And he was, until he could no longer convince himself with that lie. He was certain he was about to dip his toes in another cycle of nihilism.

And then you came.

“Monsieur Neuvillette?”

The rain was pouring out in the cemetery. You were there; your presence questionable. He knew that you arrived intending to probe whether or not he was a sovereign dragon, but he gave you the nod of acknowledgment.

“Greetings, Mx. (Y/n),” he answered, “I trust you’ve been well? Is there a person whom you’re visiting?”

He asked in sheer politeness despite knowing your motivations.

“...”

You frowned.

“How long?”

“Pardon?”

“How long have you been carrying that loneliness, Monsieur?” You asked, voice louder. “How long?”

His lip quivered.

“Centuries, perhaps,” the Iudex thought he could pass it off as a light joke to catch you off-guard, but it came off as too sincere. “I do not keep track.”

You cautiously and awkwardly approached Neuvillette, and without a word, wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace.

Just like what Uncle Callas had done for you before.

Your existence here was anathema and your words were seditious. His initial reaction was to resist because he knew you were just like Vautrin. He knew you were secretly seeking vengeance because the oratrice unfavorably judged numerous friends and family.

But he needed it. He needed this badly.

It was then that the Iudex decided that he needed you. That he will keep you.

Neuvillette cannot handle another Vautrin— he can't handle another Carole. So, he'll do it right this time. He'll keep you safe, from your illegal associations and even from yourself.

And it was a selfish yet necessary need.

A lump formed in his throat as a tear fell, trickling down his cheek slowly. He allowed himself to melt in your hug, trembling.

“You’re going to need all the hugs you can get if you’re planning to stay as Iudex for centuries more,” you whispered. “You’re resilient, but in this world, that solitary resilience won’t be enough, won’t it?”

Unable to maintain his stoic facade any longer, Neuvillette gripped you tighter in that embrace, his vulnerability finally resurfacing physically rather than Fontaine's rains. Surprised by his sudden tirade of sobs, you embraced him with all the warmth you could muster. At that moment, you had an epiphany. Despite the enmity of their positions, they were the same. Both of you were victims of a nation that demanded more in your assigned roles than you could bear.

“If you'd let me, I'll be the person you’d come to if you ever need a hug.” You weren’t sure if you said it as a devious plan or an act of empathy. “I wouldn’t mind. Not at all.”

You've made yourself important to him now.

Neuvillette cannot lose you too.

As he clung to the solace you inadvertently provided, you can't help but wish you never extended that small comfort months later. Every inch given could be exploited, and when you offered him a shred of empathy, he had seized it and turned it into a mile-long advantage. The vulnerability shared in that hug was the dangerous crack in the sword you've worked so hard to maintain.

And so, when the time came you faced Champion Duelist Clorinde with it, the gaps broke the sword completely and with its death came soon the end of your life.

She was right. There is no dignity in dying with a broken hilt.

But there was peace.

And as much as you hated Neuvillette, you wish he’d have it too.

"I've made it this far, and all I've ever done was in accordance with what fate and others wanted of me. In my demise, let me do something for myself." “After all, I’ve learned from watching Uncle Callas when he fought Champion Duelist Clorinde— an encounter I’ll surely experience in the next few days— that there is beauty in the end. In his last moments, my much younger self saw what expression he wore.” “He was content. The most content I had ever seen in someone's face.” “It was then that I had an epiphany. One that I hope my “husband” Neuvillette will remember, and I care not if it will bring him comfort or pain.” “What I learned was simple:” “Count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.”

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added on the other three fics!): @ayadikreino @kireeen, @pebblemacaroon, @thelostpanta, @vennnnn-diagram, @sagekun, @vadelma-yatta, @detectivei @sugarplumcutiepie @sunhareskies @dxprived4-starboys @unloadingdata @harmonysanreads (amen.) @atomicsoulhumanspy @sangoqueenkoko @pix-stuff @dilucragnidvr

#ansy-writes #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere male #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #yandere #male yandere #yanderecore #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere scenarios

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whumpshaped · 5 months

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anon asked:

Okay I know it's been like a month since you posted it but do you have any extra inspiration or similar for the one where whumpee wasn't allowed on furniture and caretaker allows them on furniture??? Because that was so good 😊

(I'm not good with asks I'm sorry if this was a problem)

---

tw accidental bad caretaker, past trauma, pet whumpee, conditioning

"Remember the first time you mustered up the courage to get on here?" Caretaker asked with an amused smile, carding their fingers through Whumpee's hair. The former 'pet' was lounging on the sofa with them, head in their lap — something that would've been unimaginable just a year ago. "You freaked out when I came home early. It was a disaster."

Whumpee hummed.

"I got so scared for a moment when it happened," they went on. "I thought there was something actually serious going on! And then it just turned out to be the furniture dilemma. I'm so glad we're past that, hm?"

"Can we stop talking about it?" Whumpee mumbled, and Caretaker's smile faltered.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't realise–"

"I know. Not like it's actually serious."

Caretaker's cheerful attitude vanished, and they finally noticed just how tense Whumpee was. They withdrew their hand, and sure enough, Whumpee sat up and pressed themself into the opposite corner of the sofa. "Hey... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"Of course not."

"I know it was serious to you."

"I thought I was going to be whipped within an inch of my life," Whumpee said bluntly. "Yes, we could say it seemed quite serious to me at the time. But I guess it makes for a good funny-embarrassing story to tell over dinner."

Caretaker averted their eyes. "It's not embarrassing to have trauma. I just wanted to remind you how far you've come."

"Not that far, I guess." Whumpee gently eased themself down onto the floor. For a brief moment, Caretaker thought they did it out of spite; but Whumpee's burning red cheeks told another story. "Because now that you brought it up, I... I can't stay on there. I guess we're not really past it. And I was rude, so I have to balance that out as well, and... I don't know. I don't know. But the funny jokes about it have to wait for a couple more months."

"Whumpee, you weren't rude to me. Even if you had been, you wouldn't have had to–"

"I don't need explanations. I know. It doesn't make sense. It's a major step back. A disaster."

"I'm sorry," Caretaker said softly. "I wasn't trying to make it into a joke, and I wasn't trying to embarrass you. It's not a disaster, it's not a setback, I'm sorry for making you feel like it was anything to be ashamed of. Okay?"

Whumpee sighed and hugged their knees. "You don't have to explain yourself. I'm sorry for being so defensive."

"You can be as defensive as you want. It was insensitive of me. I just thought... I don't know. I thought you'd feel... proud of yourself. But I shouldn't have drawn attention to it."

Whumpee didn't respond. Caretaker slowly inched a bit closer, reaching out as carefully as they could to pet their friend's hair. Whumpee let them.

"I won't mention it again," they promised.

"Thanks," Whumpee muttered. "I... I don't like to think about it. Whenever I do, I... I get scared again."

Caretaker nodded. "It's okay to be scared. But please know it's unfounded. I won't ever hurt you for things like this. I won't ever hurt you for anything, okay?"

Whumpee looked up at them, awfully vulnerable. They looked like they wanted to ask something, but it caught in their throat. "Okay," they said eventually, and buried their face in their knees again. "I understand."

#tumblr doesnt allow me to edit asks on mobile now so for the time being im just gonna copy and paste the asks #sorry abt that #whump #whump drabble #bad caretaker #past trauma #pet whumpee #conditioning #comfort #recovery fic #asks

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yrluvjane · 4 months

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ƦƠԼԼƖƝƓ ƬӇЄ ƊƖƇЄ ƛƝƊ ƑԼƖƤƤƖƝƓ ƬӇЄ ƤƛƓЄ (Part 1)

13 Years.

13 Years since the day you believed you lost your husband. 13 years since the day your friends died. 13 Years since the day your family was shadowed in darkness and 13 Years since your life crumbled to ash.

If you had told me, 13 years ago, that there was a chance that I could be in my husband's arms once more, I would've kicked you out the bloody window.

But here you wete, sitting on one of the sofa's in 12 Grimmauld Place; a glass of wine in one hand, trying to wrap your mind of what was happening.

You sat in front of the fire place, it was not lit but it was not the fire that attracted your attention. There was a mess of floo powder all over the floor, coating the edges of the fireplace in grey dirt.

You had been staring at the that for the past two or three hours, your stare turning from one of confusion to curiosity, worry, anger, doubt and hope.

It was around 5 days since Dumbledore apparated outside the wards of your house, in hopes to speak with you about an urgent topic. At first you believed something happened to Harry, that he was hurt or attacked but no if only it was about Harry.

No, Dumbledore had wished to inform you he was in contact with your long, lost husband, Sirius. When he said, the teacup that was reaching for your lips fell and shattered on the ground, spilling the hot liquid and staining the carpet.

Dumbledore only flicked his wand twice for the cup to return to its original state and the stain to vanish; continuing as though he spoke of a new recipe he saw in the British Bake Off.

He told you that Sirius was framed by Peter and that he has been hiding all over Europe in the past two years. When Dumbledore mentioned he knew where Sirius was for two years and 'suspected' he was innocent; you had the sudden urge to smash the teapot over your previous Headmaster's head.

And now you sat, staring at dirt and getting yourself drunk; hoping to avoid your husband, who should arrive any moment now. You downed the rest of your glass and leaned over to refill it just as the door opened.

"I'm fine, Molly." You sighed as you watched the red liquid pout out of the bottle.

You are definitely not fine

A voice commented in your head, it's been 13 years! People change, what if he doesn't love me anymore, or doesn't want me around, what if he doesn't want her.

"I'm not Molly." Harry said sheepishly as he fiddled with his fingers. "May I?"

"Sure. Come on in, make yourself comfortable." You invited as you pulled your blanket and draped it over his legs. "Want a sip?" You asked raising your glass once you caught Harry's eyes. "You'll be legal in a few years and merlin knows what type of things you'll be doing this year."

You definitely were not sober.

"Aunt Y/n!" Harry exclaimed as his face reddened the same shade as his house scarf. "Just be safe, cause if you become a father before the age of 24; I will snap your wand."

Harry stared down in embarrassment and cleared his throat. "I wanted to ask if you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay! Why wouldn't I be okay? I'm going to see my husbsnd for the first time in thirteen year, where he was framed for murder." You replied in a defensive tone, motioning with your hands and heavily swallowing your alcoholic drink.

"Why does everyone think I'm not fine?! I am wonderful. Fan-freakin-tastic. I am super!"

You turned to face Harry's concerned and shocked face and realised you must've sound like a crazy person.

You took a deep breath and motioned for Harry to lean in. He rested his head at your lap as you brushed your fingers over his hair.

"I'm okay, Haz."

"It's just...this may be a lot to handle. I mean I remember when I found out the truth about Peter. I just feel like you meeting Sirius again is as scary as me meeting my parents or something. I think it's alright to be nervous." Harry replied as he played with a loose thread on his jacket.

"I am not nervous."

That was also a lie but you weren't ready to spill all your drunken emotions over to a 15 year old boy.

Harry gave you a look as if to say "really?"

"Shouldn't you be somewhere with Ron talking about Quidditch and girls?" You teased as Harry scoffed.

"If I talked girls with Ron, I'll be lonely the rest of my life."

You let a laugh bubble out of you, Harry soon joining in.

"Is Elle coming over later?" Harry asked after a moment of silence, his face flushing slightly. You chuckled. "Tomorrow morning." You assured him, knowing he had a liking to your 14 year old daughter.

"Are you going to tell Sirius?"

That was the million dollar question, she had to tell him, he was her father, she was his daughter. It would be wrong of her not to tell him.

But she couldn't help wonder, if Sirius didn’t want a child. He always wished to end the Black line. And they never really spoke about having one and maybe he would be to occupied with being Harry's Godfather.

He just got out of prison it would be insane to just bombard him with two teenagers.

"I have to tell him at some point. Though, i am compelled to the idea of leaving and letting them meet each other tomorrow on their own." She suggested, half-joking.

"I'm sure Sirius would be glad to have a daughter. 12 Years in Azkaban, I think some family company could do him well."

She couldn't believe it, 12 years in Azkaban; a soul-sucking prison, reserved for the worst of the worst. The word itself made a shiver run down your spine.

The day of Sirius's imprisonment flashed right before your eyes as though it was a recent memory.

"No! He didn't do it!" You had shouted, the Aurors ignored as they trashed your house. "Mrs. Black-" An Auror began approaching you but you pushed him with your might.

"HE DIDN'T DO IT!" You shouted, you magic flaring and shattering all the windows, a spray of glass showered the ground. '"Mrs. Black if you don't compose yourself right this instant, i will have no choice but to detain you!" The head Auror yelled at you.

You eyes were streaming with tears, the rain from the outside storm began pouring into the the house. The thunder strikes defeaned your ears as you stared at the middle-aged man with nothing but fury in your eyes.

"Get out." You gritted through clenched teeth, you hands fisted at either side of you. "I beg your pardon?" He scoffed.

"Get out of my house!" You snapped, you could feel your magic crackle in the air. The vases, tables and chairs began to shake, the flamws in the fireplace raged shockingly.

The rest of the Aurors stood in their place, unsure with what to do. "You have no authority to tell me what to do!" The Head Auror shouted at you, his wand raised to level with your throat.

With the anger inside of you boiling and reaching its limit, you yelled at the top of your lungs; a surge of magic rushing out as it exploded all your vases and glassware. The couches, chairs and tables all flying out of their place and hitting against the wall.

A moment of silence rang as the Aurors battled if whether it was safe to put their sheilds down. "Let's go," The Head Auror said as he gathered his team. "We will be back."

And true to his word, he did come back but at that point you were too numbed by the amount of calming draught, they made you ingest.

You shook your head as though it would push the memory back to the end of your mind. "I hope your right."

And no later than an hour, you were sat at one end of the large dining table while Sirius sat all the way on the other end.

And though there were only eight or nine seats (per side) that separated you, it fel as though half of London was in between you.

Your eyes kept roaming over his body, though he smiled, joked, laughed and played, you could tell he was somewhat exhausted.

That moment when when his smile fell, his shoulders sagged and his head bowed down allowing his eyes to rest on you.

You saw his eye slightly widened as though he was noticing for the first time in ages - which was exactly what was happening right now - he placed his glass of drink on the table and gave you a small smile.

The side of his eyes wrinkled at the gesture and you couldn't help but feel the same dropping feeling you got almost twenty years ago when you first fell in love with him.

Harry, who was sat next to him kept blabbing about something, but for the first time tonight Sirius didn’t look as though he was engrossed into the conversation.

Sirius stared at you, head tilted as his eyes scanned every aspect of your face. He couldn't believe it was you after all this time. Your hair was all disheveled and your makeup was slightly smudged but you still looked as beautiful as they you two got married.

Y/n subtly motions her head to the side and gets up from her seat, elegantly slipping out of the room.

"Excuse me, Harry." Sirius said, clearing his throat as he stared at where Y/n left and made his way out the room.

The halls got quieter the more he walked, he didn't have to check the other rooms to guess where Y/n slipped into.

He immediately turned towards the stairs and walked up to the upstairs library. There was only one thing in the world that Y/n liked more than coffee and that was books.

Muggle, magic, dark or light. Y/n could always be found nursing one. He quietly opened the door to it letting the smell of old tomes engulf him.

Y/n sat on an armchair at the far end of the room, looking through a dark, hard-covered grimore.

"Most of those books are cursed y'know." Sirius commented as he softly let the door shut. He took a sip of his drink and walked towards her as she let out a gentle 'Ah'.

"Most dark books are, though said curses can be avoided if opened correctly..." She said as she brushed her fingers down the spine and muttered quietly, the next the book let out a soft click as the locks on the side freed it.

Though nothing she said was processed in Sirius's head, he was still hungover on the part his wife was infront of him and speaking to him.

She turned and faced him with a small smile, "Won't you sit?"

Sirius walked over and took a seat right infront of her. He noted her flushed cheeks and the trembling hands over her lap.

"I'm sorry." Sirius said truly as he stared at his shoes.

"Sorry?" Y/n began as she stared up at him with furrowed brows, "Sirius you didn't do anything wrong."

"I did, I left you. I broke our vows, my most important promises to you." He said, she tried to cut him off but he shook his head.

"This is all my fault, if i didn't tell James to make Peter the secret keeper last minute, him and Lily could still be alive, Harry wouldn't be an orphan, Remus wouldn't suffer the full moon alone, I wouldn’t have been in Azkaban..." He took a deep, shaky breath. "You wouldn't have been alone for 13 years."

He looked up at Y/n his grey eyes meeting her's. "You don't know that, for all we know James and Lily could've died a week later even if Peter didn't betray them."

"And Remus didn't spend his full moons alone, I was with him." She stood up and sat next to him, placing a comforting hand on his knee.

"And I wasn't alone for 13 years, a part of you was with me every moment of them." She said as Sirius stared at the diamond on her ring finger.

A hesitated hand, placed itself over her as his thumb stroked the ring. "After all this time?" He said as he stared at her, "Always."

He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. "Your not afraid of me." He stated more than questioned.

"Why would you think I was afraid of you?"

"You didn't want to talk to me."

"Sirius, I didn't want to talk to you because..." Y/n stopped and gulped as Sirius leaned back with furrowed brows and faced her. "I didn't think, you'd still want me anymore. 13 years is more enough for someone to fall out of love with their partner."

"You really think i could stop loving you? no matter how many years apart i could never stop loving you. I loved you then, I love you now and I will love you after 30 years when we are old and grey. I loved you since the first day we met and will love you till the day I die and till the day we meet again. 13 years are nothing comparing to my love to you."

#golden trio era #older sirius black #sirius black #sirius black x reader #older sirius black x reader #post azkaban sirius #post azkaban sirius x reader #sirius black angst #sirius orion black #sirius x reader #dad sirius black #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #marauders era #harry potter x reader

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matan4il · 4 months

Text

Most of the time, I don't bother talking about the hate and harassment I get, because I don't think haters deserve the attention. The person I'm gonna write about definitely doesn't deserve any, but they've started harassing others that I know of, not just me.

So this is basically a warning post for Jewish bloggers and bloggers who are allies to Jews, and a request for anyone who can, to report and block this person (if you want to warn other bloggers, then please consider a reblog, too). @staff, This is also for you, proof of a pattern of harassment and abuse. Please do something and protect your Jewish users and their allies.

They first commented here, denying the antisemitism of Hamas, with the url @grizzlyismyspiritanimal and they seem to change their url quite frequently. For now it's @fancowboy but expect that to change again. Since IDK if Tumblr will let the mention (@'ing their url) hyperlink to their blog, here's how you can check out what their current url is, so you can report and block them. Go to this post where they're tagged as @grizzlyismyspiritanimal and hover your mouse over their url, you'll see their blog pop up no matter what new url they changed to. Here's a screenshot of what that looks like:

Here's their first comment on my post, along with my reply. Tumblr arranges these comments with the oldest at the bottom, click to see the image better:

Of course they never provided a link sourcing their claim, instead they provided a link to an op ed, which was not written by anyone affiliated with Hamas. This link did not support their claim that "Hamas specifically stated," but that didn't stop them from ignoring the fact that they couldn't prove their claim. Next, they repeated an already refuted antisemitic conspiracy theory (and I linked them to a refuting source, which they just ignored), while using strawmen arguments (attacking statements I didn't make). Obviously, none of this addresses the point actually made in the post they were commenting on.

When I called them out on the antisemitism of their whole narrative, they pulled the "I can't be antisemitic, because I'm Jewish" line of defense, while also bragging in the same comment about not going the easy route by doing that:

I no longer believe people who say antisemitic things, and then use this defense, after several have been proven to have lied about being Jewish, but more importantly, and this is the point I made to @fancowboy, Jews are not immune to internalizing antisemitism, and repeating antisemitic narratives. But I was curious whether there was any sign of this person having any sense of a significant Jewish identity on their blog. When I went on there, one of the first posts I came acorss was an antisemitic one, claiming that Jews have stolen the Star of David from the Muslims... I know there are a lot of anti-Zionist Jews out there, and that many of them are very capable of saying antisemitic things, but I don't think even they would endorse this false claim.

What's ironic is that the post shares a screenshot from Wikipedia, which explicitly mentions that this Muslim kingdom that existed in the 13th century AD (roughly 700 years ago), adopted the six-pointed star, due to the Muslim belief that it was a symbol on the ring ("seal") of King Solomon, a Jewish king who lived about 3,000 years ago. In other words, this post literally points out that Muslims borrowed this symbol from Jews, not the other way around. And just for historical interest, the first archeological find of Jews using the Star of David is dated to the 6th century BC (around 2,600 years ago).

I pointed out to @grizzlyismyspiritanimal / @fancowboy that I no longer believe they're Jewish, because I don't believe any Jew would reblog this antisemitic lie. In response, not long after, this "I'm not a coward" and "you would've blocked me (aka fanatic)" person blocked me. Instead of addressing what I said, or taking responsibility for their wrongdoing, and deleting this antisemitic post. Our exchange started on Jan 5 IIRC, this post was reblogged by them on Jan 4, and as of Jan 25 it is still on their blog, as you can see here (post and current date highlighted in this screenshot):

A minute after they blocked me from the above blog, they commented on my pinned post with links to my fandom content from another blog, @verygardenerland and this comment made it clear that it was the same person. I made a mistake, I wanted my fandom space free from antisemitic harassment, so I deleted that comment, which means I don't have that piece of evidence that it's the same person, but I do have another bit of proof. Remember how this person claimed to be Jewish? This is how they presented it:

(again, using a strawmen, I never said all Muslims are terrorists, and never would, because it's simply not true, and if anyone made that claim to me, I would be correcting them)

Well, this is the VERY similar way @verygardenerland talked about their supposed Jewish identity, in a post they made solely to harass and DARVO (Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender) me:

Jews were almost completely ethnically cleansed from Muslim majority countries, so the likelihood of a random online stranger being a Jew from a Muslim country is generally incredibly low to almost non-existent, and two who just so happen to both harass me on my blog one minute apart is probably less statistically likely than winning the lottery.

It's poetic irony that the one comment the above post got from another blogger, is someone else also calling this person out on the antisemitism of what they're saying:

Gotta love the bonus misogyny with "bitch."

I'm also going to offer you this following antisemitic comment (which distorts the Holocaust, and refers to Jews insultingly as "the chosen ones"), which I also don't believe any person with an actual Jewish identity would make:

And here's also one of the last comments this person made from @fancowboy before blocking me on that blog and continuing from @verygardenerland. Just notice how we have the same antisemitic abuse themes from both of these blogs:

Once more, extra touch of misogyny with "that much of a pussy."

(I have to address the white phosphorus claim. There are 2 ways of using it in battle, one legal, the other's not. Israel stated that when using it, that's only in the legal way. There is no record to show the contrary. People just exploit the fact it's used, to pretend it's automatically illegal. But I accept this is an antisemitic libel against the Jewish state, that sadly some Jews might repeat. The rest is what makes me think this person isn't Jewish)

@verygardenerland noticed I write fandom meta, and harassed me on these posts. Here's one example:

Then they searched related tag/s, and proceeded to harass me by calling me names in comments they left on random posts from other fandom members. These are posts that had nothing to do with me. One of the people on whose post they were calling me a Nazi is someone I have never even spoken to. The OP deleted the harassing comment, but this time I did get a screenshot before that, so here it is, as an example:

Now, on top of all of the above, @verygardenerland also started stalking my main blog at the same time they made their first comment from this url, as well as my two back up blogs. One's last post was on Mar 2022, the other's on Apr 2021, so it's completely pointless to follow them, other than as an intimidation tactic:

And they sent me anon hate. The thing is, they made it explicitly clear through what they said and the language they used, that it's them. They sent more than one message, but the one I'll attach here was obviously meant to freak me out the most, because it falsely starts out as a fandom ask, and then transitions into abusive language, as well as telling me there's more blogs they're stalking me from, basically making it clear that even if I block this url, I'll still not be safe from their stalking and abuse:

From a certain point on, I told them that whenever they make a comment to me, all I'll do is just remind them repeatedly that they're an antisemite, which is exactly what I've kept to. That's when I even bothered to respond. I postponed blocking their second blog, 'coz I wanted to put this post together first. Now I'm done with them.

To wrap this up, here are some final screenshots of their antisemitic abuse, how they obsessively comment on my posts, or posts that in their mind are related to me, and how they have started directly addressing random people who are commenting on my posts, telling them not to talk to "it," meaning they're also using de-humanizing language when referring to me, and of course once more employing the DARVO tactic by accusing me of that which they're guilty of:

My activity feed yesterday:

And not just yesterday. Love the bonus hateful language towards those who are disabled...

And this is just one of their comments on a post simply mourning the death of Israeli soldiers, and putting it in the context of multi-generational Jewish trauma:

To summarize again, please:

report and block this person

reblog this post if you feel comfortable to, in order to warn others

@staff please do something to stop the abuse. Thank you in advance!

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack

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mezzy-1 · 3 months

Note

Hi! Yes! I’m the ask! I’m very excited hehe. The 4 agents I chose for: Iso, Jett, Sage and Deadlock. If I had to describe the reader’s personality they’d be like private/reserved sort of very calm and an experienced fighter, reader could be fighting against the selected agents (sort of like how you did Nomad and their recruitment? I really like Nomad btw).

I unfortunately wasn’t able to find Acheron’s exact capabilities but I did decide on a basis for the reader’s abilities (Ice or snow) also I did find a few clips for reference:

https://youtu.be/l1Yw8r4F9W0?si=K-SiYUsK6Qi-v0dD

https://youtu.be/G2xiqsEoFDQ?si=R4VNy-oS_2fQ84qB

COLD RECEPTION // (VALORANT X READER)

Reader Profile// SNOWFALL

Your status as a radiant made you stand out in the world, and your abilities terrified those around you. The Scions of the Hourglass made a deal with you, they would train and care for you and you’d help maintain their secrecy. Abandoning your lonely existence, you became a master of your ability over ice and did work for the Scions. Soon, you began to doubt your allies and were assigned a Valorant agent to kill as a final test of loyalty.

ISO

There was a stillness in the air, brought on by a combination of the night and the cold that blew through the streets of a desolate industrial district

You waited outside with binoculars trained on the sidewalks, waiting for your target. Deciding that your stakeout was taking too long, you looked over the dossier again

Li Zhao Yu, aka. Iso, defected from the Scions months ago to join an organization called Valorant. His skills rivaled yours, and his power over radianite was strong too

The picture included didn’t match up with the face of a hardened killer though

Below you spotted something purple flash from the windows of an abandoned factory. You narrowed your eyes and watched for more

Iso was locked in combat with a number of radiants. If it wasn’t for the dossier you would've been shocked at how dangerous he was

He dropped each of the radiants one by one. All the while, he maintained an air of calmness with each shot

He exited the building carrying some strange triangular device. He put his finger to his ear and muttered something to an unknown receiver

Realizing he was calling in some kind of extraction, you put your plan into action and activated your radiance

Wind began to swirl around as frost collected on broken windows. You pulled your knife from its sheath and let ice collect along the blade

Swinging the blade, you launched the collected frost towards Iso. Your careful aim drove the ice spear into his shoulder

Leaping from your vantage point, you jumped from the building and slid down to street level. You readed a pistol as you got to Iso

“You shouldn’t have left us,” you said, cocking the action back on your gun. “People like you are one of a kind.”

“If you’re with the Scions, then don’t waste my time. I work with Valorant now, and I washed my hands of those monsters.”

“They aren’t monsters, they saved me! I was nothing before they came and trained me!”

“I read some files on you, Y/N. You were missing for years and turned into a weapon for them. They fear you, they only want to control you and use your power.”

“Is that what you think? Is that why you left for some bullshit organization that pretends to care about you? The Scions are my family now, and I won’t disappoint them.”

“Valorant would take care of you if you decide to come with me. We can avoid this fight if you stand down.”

“I’d rather die than be a traitor like you.”

“...fine Y/N. What happens now is on you.” Iso grabbed the ice embedded in his shoulder and threw it to the ground

Taking your chance to shoot, you suddenly found yourself on the defensive. Iso had reached for his Sheriff while removing the ice

Bullets almost reached your head as you took cover and blocked out the area with a sudden freezing mist

You heard a window break and ran after the sound, finding yourself inside an abandoned machine shop

With your first steps in, a bullet ricocheted off the wall behind you and sparks danced from the impact

As you moved farther in, more shots came from the darkness. Iso was tired, injured, and had to hide

“Good.” you thought. You began dropping the temperature around you while placing your knife in its sheath and charging it with cold

Iso’s breath was now visible from the frigid air. He was hidden behind a hydraulic press and breathing quietly

You pulled the knife slowly from the sheath, letting ice condense onto it and extending it into a long icy blade

Silently, you moved about the shop. Your footsteps were quiet from the stealth training you endured

As you moved towards Iso, violet hexagons crept underneath you and made contact. You fell into the floor and were dropped into some strange realm

The dossier missed the fact that Iso could do this, because you were quickly disoriented by the rush of purple

“Y/N this is your last chance to stand down. I’m not here to kill you, I want to leave that part of me in the past with the Scions.” echoed throughout the space

Iso appeared in front of you and you charged forwards with your blade, directly for his neck. You sliced and crescent of frozen air spun towards his throat

He raised his hand and conjured a wall in front of him. The ice slammed into the hardened tiles as you continued with your attack

Iso turned his wrist and pulled the trigger once. The bullet went right for your head, and by closing the distance you were in even more danger

Suddenly you were back in the shop and Iso was in front of you

“Dui Bu Qi” he whispered before the world went dark around you

You awoke in a room lit by a single light and restrained in a chair. Your head was sore and the room was almost spinning

“You’re finally up Y/N. Hao de, we can finally talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you, just kill me because I won’t tell you anything about the Scions!” you spat back

“I already have all the information I could ever want on them. I don't need you to betray them for me.”

“You’re one to talk about betraying the Scions.”

“They won’t come to save you, now that they know you’ve been captured. If anything they’ll either try and kill you or assume you’re dead.”

“No! They’ll come for me, they’ll make you pay for taking me prisoner!”

“You were sent to kill me when I defected.”

Iso’s truth buried itself in a growing pit of despair in your stomach. It was so obvious they would save you but something in you began to pull at that conviction

Tears streaked down your face and turned to snowflakes as they fell. The realization that you would never have your life in order finally fell on you

A warm hand found its way onto your shoulder. Iso’s palm met yours despite the freezing cold temperature

“Bie ku Y/N. Don’t worry I know it looks lonely but you won’t be walking away from them alone. I’m here for you if you need to talk.”

“They were everything to me, but they…they’d kill me just like they’d kill anyone. Did I ever mean anything to them at all?” you asked already knowing the answer

“It doesn’t help to think of them right now, what matters is that Valorant will care about you. We aren’t here to kill or control, we just want to do right.”

You looked up and in your state your power began to escape. You began to grow colder and shivered slightly

Iso took his hand off of you and began to unzip his jacket

He draped it over your shoulders

“Y/N, you’re freezing.”

“It happens when I’m worried, I think I’ll be fine.” you tried to avert your eyes but couldn’t pull them from Iso

“Are you saying you want to join Valorant then?” Iso leaned in towards you

“I don’t have anywhere else to go, but you’ve been so patient with me. I feel horrible for what I tried to do, but you’re being kind and I want to repay that somehow.”

“I’ll talk to my higher ups and get you a room at the HQ. While we wait, we should find a way to keep you warm. Do you drink tea?”

“Sure, what kind do you have?”

Having tea with Iso was the first of many moments you shared with the assassin. Both of you had your respective pasts entwined, but that only brought you closer

Eventually it became a routine, meeting with Iso and just talking for hours on end about whatever you both thought

Months later, you realized that Valorant had become a second home for you. It was all thanks to Iso

#valorant #valorant agents #valorant imagines #valorant headcanons #valorant x you #valorant x reader #valorant iso #iso x reader #iso x you #valorant oc

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sugarsweetwriter · 12 days

Text

୨୧┇So..... (cult) whump recovery? Gender neutral! Whumpee, Caretaker, and Whumper (who's referred to as The Leader/God)

"Do you remember what you were like before?" Caretaker asked gently. Too gently—and Whumpee hated it. Whumpee absolutely despised the softness, the kindness they always held in their voice as the sweetly coaxed Whumpee's secrets out of them, to, of course, use against them later—Whumpee thought. It was the same voice that The Leader would always use; Whumpee wondered why it scared, angered them so much to hear Caretaker take on the same tone. How could they dislike the same tone Their God would use? It all confused, and immensely bothered, Whumpee.

"Yes, I do. I was sinful" Whumpee seethed. Their eyes darted around the room, before settling on the white, floral fabric, draped over their bruised thighs. The dress was apparently Caretaker's cousin's, and it was the only clean clothing they had when unexpectantly taking Whumpee in, only about a week ago. Since then, laundry had been done, but Whumpee seemed attached to the dress, and Caretaker wanted them to be as comfortable as possible. It was much prettier, silkier, than their previous, everyday-garment; a gray, modest dress which covered them from head to toe. It sat on them loosely, and was itchy at the shoulders, but that had never mattered.

Caretaker frowned at the response, but Whumpee hadn't dared to look up to see it.

"How were you sinful—if you're comfortable telling me?" Caretaker questioned—again, far too tenderly. Having sat at the foot of the bed for around 10 minutes now, Caretaker kept conversing with Whumpee—though it felt more like an interrogation for them.

Whumpee hesitated for a moment before answering:

"I.. I wasn't "holy" yet. I hadn't found The Leader yet—I hadn't found The God yet. I hadn't begun worshipping them- and, so, I couldn't have been-.. righteous," Whumpee paused briefly, then continued.

"I would've.. never been forgiven if I had continued like that, but-.. Now, I'm sure I'll never be forgiven again.. no matter how hard I could ever pray" Whumpee practically whispered the second half of the sentance, taking in a shaky breath before muttering the very last part—they sounded as if they were about to sob.

Caretaker sighed, sorrowfully, before slowly—very, very slowly—moving over towards Whumpee, to which Whumpee only stared at them for a moment before looking back down at their thighs. Hesitantly, Caretaker spoke:

"I know, I know it's scary—but none of that's.. true. Please.. know that you're safe. The Leader.." Caretaker hesitated, "God—can't hurt you, anymore. I promise. You're far away from them all now, and I won't ever let anybody from back there hurt you ever again. You're safe" they finished.

Caretaker, now sitting knee to knee with Whumpee, looked back into their eyes, only to be met with a small, scarred, terrified, baby deer. Their eyes, yet again, frantically searched for a focus of interest around the room as tears spilt freely now, quiet sobs racking through their chest as they attempted to mutter a defensive response—but to no avail, as they could only let out pitiful whimpers.

How could Caretaker challenge The Leader? How could Caretaker challenge The God—the only being who knew true virtue? It went against all that Whumpee had known for the past four years. And deeply, it both shook and absolutely terrified Whumpee.

Once more, Caretaker moved towards Whumpee, little by little, attempting to look back at Whumpee's face—failing, since Whumpee's head was now lowered and pressed against their thighs, still covered by soft fabric.

"Whumpee-.. Can I touch you?" Cautiously, Caretaker asked—unsure as to whether Whumpee could even heard them through their now, much louder, sobs. Though, even through Whumpee's hysteric sobs, Caretaker could've sworn they'd heard something among the lines of "Yes, okay". And so, steadily, they wrapped their arms around Whumpee, who quickly lifted their arms as well, almost instinctively, wrapping them shakily around Caretaker and burying their face in Caretaker's neck, breathing heavily and smearing their tears everywhere. Whumpee had been denied of touch for so long, it was only natural to crave it.

After the surprise of it all, Caretaker dotingly whispered sweet confirmations, holding Whumpee firmly yet tenderly, making sure to comfort Whumpee yet not trap them.

Words of "It's okay, it's all okay. I promise—you're safe. The Leader can't get to you here" are spoken, caringly.

Eventually, the cries died down, and Whumpee was left in Caretaker's arms, whimpering quietly, their arms now drooping down Caretaker's back.

"How... You're- you're wrong" Whumpee sniffled, well aware of how weak the defense was.

But they were so tired, and still, so scared. Desperately, they just wanted to believe Caretaker, wanted to believe that they were safe, and even that god- not The Leader- but god, either didn't care about them, or didn't even exist to begin with.

Still terribly unsure of whatever the real truth of it may be—they feared The Leader was right, it was what they'd been taught for so long anyway—they just hoped, so wholeheartedly, but exhaustedly, hoped that they'd be okay. That they'd be safe, that they wouldn't be punished—not for leaving, or for daring to doubt The Leader, and even god.

Though, for now, in Caretaker's warm arms, they did, indeed, feel safe—for the first time in a very, very long time.

In response to Whumpee's defense, Caretaker only hummed affectionately. Truthfully, Caretaker was proud, so proud, of Whumpee. For the first time in the week they'd been staying with Caretaker, instead of hiding in the closet, or just uncontrollably sobbing and praying while pushing them away, they accepted the touch, and the comfort, the help.

Caretaker knew it'd take a long, long time to work with Whumpee and work towards recovery; Whumpee was still working on processing the very notion that it all, that all of the punishments could've been for nothing. It wasn't as if they had never considered it before. They did at the start, and later on they wondered if—regardless of whether The Leader, or any god was real—anything could've made all that they had been through worth it. Eventually though, they became far too fearful to ever even consider any of it ever again.

Yet here, they slowly fall asleep on Caretaker, their weak body slumping onto them, head awkwardly positioned at their neck; to which Caretaker gently—not too gently this time; without saying anything in fact—positioned Whumpee's body in a more comfortable position, and as Whumpee slept, safely, and warm, Caretaker was sure of it now; they will never give up on Whumpee.

୨୧┇A/N: First writing on here! Posting this before my intro as well... it's 3 am now but I just had the urge to write and came up with this (touch starved Whumpee my beloved)... I haven't seen any cult whump recovery drabbles before, so here's one! Hopefully someone enjoyed my writing! ^^

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saltysplayt00ns · 1 month

Text

Page 849 Reworked

I've been waiting a long time to show this one, and had to adjust some stuff cause the author thought rushing to place an out of place fog would make things better, but just adds on the confusion of a fog only showing around their and not around the area. Also would've had a scene of them going through the fog and we seen the Two tribes coming in through the fog. This would've been a better battle and advantage CAUSE LET ME REMIND YA. There are two tribes band together to take down Meteor tribe and a few of Whispervale members. THIS IS A NO WIN BATTLE, Meteor has to be strategic and improvise from a no win scenario. Ronja and other would've taken advantage of the fog and fought them there and not up the freaking mountains. taken advantage when the elements plus the rain coming down would make it more thick in mist. THE BATTLE SPEAKS FOR ITSELF!!!.

Close-up shots;

I did adjustment of the whole scene cause this is an action scene;

Panel adjustments and add-ons

Added lighting and shadows

Added SFX

Reworked the BG

Added armor

Added tribal paint

Worked Dialogue bubble cause yikes Ronja.

KARGO HAS PAINT ON BOTH SIDES!!!

He also has the other half of his body.

Adjust to make the dogs more like fur.

Diarko had him more primitive and connect the dark markings.

Also quote from the author themselves; " No paint on any of them for this, it's tedious enough to have to draw all this armor X)" SO BASICALLY YOU, an author that is drawing a Raiding battle of tribes that is between life and death, doesn't want to do paint nor any detailed important stuff, so we don't know who's fighting who. It's not even battle armor cause None of them ARE WEARING ANYTHING TO PROTECT THEMSELVESM, Meteortribe is more equipped with clothes then the tribes that are experienced not wearing any, they're the one's that say burning bodies is ' primitive '. let me tell ya after 2-3 pages its laughable on him trying to make this the final boss type BS when they. How these dogs advanced again? ya got literally spirits giving out free loot XD This is what I mean by ' changing plot to fit the story ' and ' inconsistencies ' like this an annoying blemish, instead of a competent tribes that are more experienced and trained to handle such things, you are NOT given armor nor paint nor anything of an build-up, because you was lazy and don't know how to find an easy way to do said battle armor - PLUS don't know how to have meteor tribe not lose members. Like, why the heck are the two tribes waited MONTHS to start invading them now why not then?? because kiq. doesn't know how to fix the plot holes, since basically would've been wiped out regardless of the extra protection. why meteor waited so long to fix their defenses?

why Keirr is not with them, isn't he a family oriented dog.?

Why Rhovanion and Feaf are not their isn't Rhov and family oriented dog?

Why meteor didn't leave around winter and waited many months to move at all? , this is not a vacation, its an evacuation.

why Tribes waited years to actually start something now then 30 years ago.?

Why Roamer wants to take the idea from Kargo which was meant for Kargo, roamer, Ferah to make their ' new life? ' why not just have it where its an idea you made on your own???!!!! really putting salt on that wound ain't ya?

When did Kargo know about Rogio, more then Roamer who is literally his boyfriend?

Why Rogio dumping all the chores on Roamer to do? he's been doing it a lot and somehow Roamer have to agree, cause remember those scenes when Roamer put OUT HIS OPINION??!!! and tried to help? he gotten gaslighted and a upper cut of emotional manipulations.

Why Rogio wants a Polycule now? especially after we SAW Rogio snooping AGAIN on other dogs conversations. and Kargo so far is focused on other things then having a threesome. and all these glaring and many more glaring questions. Again the question is why?? why, why and more WHY'S. This stuff usually is dealt with after doing drafts, concepts and revisions.

-----

Ps.

The quick placement of the Fog was laughable, cause think about it like, why kiq. going to do a dues ex Machina on the mountains and not in the fogs. Think about it in a tactical planning for Ronja and writers. The Fog is more an advantage to hide in the thick mist in dark shades of the trees, then being exposer on plan sight on top of a mountain. Meteor ( Nordguard ) 1. does not know how to wield a sword, 2. they're outnumbered, 3. lack experiences and 4. have children. They needed to think strategically and fast. The fog would've been a perfect scene for them to hide in and cover their scents, Rain and thunder is coming, so more thick fog and cover up from the tribes, they would use that to their advantage and scatter the raid them around. It's a risky maneuver but Ronja can't be hesitant nor meek on this, is all or nothing. THIS STUFF IS GOOD TENSION AND CHARACTER BUILD-UP.

---- This creating armor and concepts is like whip cream on an ice cream cake for me. But hey it's not my Comic to stress over, be a pump and dump for all I bloody know . .....

Side Goodies:

Quick Armored concept for Dragonsfall

Dragonsfall Paint marks

The Dragonsfall tribe is a group of Canines who have forged a strong alliance with Fire-breathing lizards, believing themselves to be descendants of these majestic creatures. They are known for crafting a unique bronze metal, believed to be hardened and melted with metal from the scales of dragons. This bronze shines like fire, is harder than regular metal, and exhibits weird translucent colors like the scales. The tribe also molds bits of leather to create softer but sturdier materials. While they may have lost some of the fierce traits associated with dragons over time, certain traits like their scales, reproduction and facials still show hints of their connection to these mythical beings.

---

HAPPY EATING YA BLOGGERS ♥

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

This happened many, many years ago, before I knew AITA was a thing, and at the time I wished there was something like AITA so I could understand if I ATA.

Here it is:

AITA for taking a table that had been recently abandoned in a bar, even though there were plenty of other tables available?

My partner and I used to frequent a pizza place/bar in the town we lived in. I knew most of the bartenders, and knew many of the other regulars by face and name, though I didn't know many of them personally.

We went to this place at least once a week, for their pub trivia. We always arrived early, to save a table, because this place would get PACKED.

One day we arrived particularly early. It was mostly empty, maybe 20% of tables being occupied. One of the occupied tables was our favorite, a particularly large table, in the middle of the main seating area, close to the fireplace (it was winter, so warmth is ideal) and the speakers (for ease of hearing for trivia). It was one of maybe 3 tables that was large enough for our expected trivia team. My partner and I got beers and sat at another, less ideal but available, table. This is maybe 2ish hours before trivia started, with rush hour being about 1 hour prior to trivia.

Seated at our ideal table were two patrons, a regular that I recognized, and another person I didn't. Both older gentlemen.

After maybe 20 minutes, the men got up and left the restaurant.

My partner and I discussed whether to move or not, and decided to go ahead and take their table, because it had all the qualities we were looking for in a table. This was the table we sat at whenever we had more than 4 people on our team. We moved, the two of us, to sit at that table.

About 5-10 minutes later, the regular came back and chastised us for pushing his drinks aside and sitting at histable. It was so long ago, I don't remember exactly, but I think he ordered another drink and his friend drank the rest of his drink at a 4-person table near us, before leaving before trivia.

INFO: Here's the things:

The table in question sat 6-8 people.

The drinks we pushed aside were an empty glass and a glass of beer that was maybe 1/3 full.

Neither had a coaster placed over it (which where we live is code for "don't touch this pls").

Nothing except for the glassware was left at the table (that is, no bags, hats, phones, etc, that might indicate it was occupied).

Weekly we saw this regular leave as the trivia crowd start to trickle in. It was normal that he was there when we arrived (usually he was sitting at the bar tho) and he would leave, not to return that night.

There were plenty of tables available, this just happened to be our favorite.

In their defense, I understand how weird it must've seemed:

They were having a drink; one of them finished their drink, the other almost done, and they decide to get up and have a smoke or something? The restaurant is mostly empty. They step outside. They come back in to find that a couple has inexplicably taken over the space where they were sitting, despite there being many other tables

My reasoning:

He was a regular, I thought he knew that the trivia crowd was coming in and that's why he was leaving? There was no indication that the table was taken (no coasters on the cups, no bags left). That is, if we had walked in as completely new guests, we would have no way of knowing that this table wasn't available but just hadn't been bussed yet. There were other tables available but they were either too small, far away, or too drafty.

If I'd thought they were coming back, we would've waited, because we knew that this guy was a regular who always left before trivia anyway.

No use to critique what I shoulda/coulda/woulda done here (asked the bartender, looked outside to see if they were still there, or anything like that). Based on the info I had (explained above), was I the asshole to take their table?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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animatedrapture · 2 years

Text

— La la lost you.

— suna rintarou x reader. & just angst.

— i found a draft, im heartbroken and mentally unwell ^___^ im here to offer pain and then forget about it after because Real Life.

love is selfish, love is mean.

love is unkind, love is inconsiderate.

love is painful, love is lost in the depth of it all.

Suna stood there, at the threshold of your shared bedroom, watching you stuff your clothes into the dull gray duffel bag.

It's the one with the leather handle slightly chipping off, it's old and well—it's the same one you had brought when you were first moving in to his place. It's worn out, more from being unused than the opposite.

You take it as it is; he doesn't care. Because he's watching you leave and he does nothing but stand there, with his steady breathing and empty expression.

Body language should tell you something when it comes to Suna—or at the very least, the way his eyes look: if they're glistening, or as if almost clouded, or shifting—but he offers you nothing. There's no agitation but he's not particularly paralyzed either. He stood there, as calm and collected as ever, as if he hadn't been relentless with his razor sharp tongue just earlier.

The same words that held you down, paralyzing you. Sure, you had been the one to tell him that maybe you should just break up because—

As if he hadn't, in a moment of emotional turmoil, just said: "We should've broken up long ago."

This isn't going anywhere anymore, all we do is fight when you're not ignoring me.

But we all say things when we're hurt—because while you regret what you said, Suna doesn't seem to regret it.

You hadn't answered him. You said nothing that would've sealed the deal but neither did he. Only with trembling hands did you reach out to the back of your closet to grab the bag, though perhaps, as you stuffed what you could in the bag, that might've been enough of an answer and for Suna, perhaps it was too.

Unfortunately, there's no fighting back the quivering of your lips or the tightness in your throat. Sure, your eyes sting with the tears you won't let yourself just fall over but holy shit, it hurts.

Everything hurts.

"We should've broken up long ago" gives you an insight that he's thought of this. Breaking up with you. You're not sure what hurts more.

That he's letting go of you so easily? That he doesn't seem like he could care less, right there as you pack your bags at eleven in the evening? That he seems to have wanted to break it off long before this fight?

So, again, you take it as it is—you don't even notice him walking out from the bedroom door. All you're left with is a chipping leather bag full of what clothes you can throw in and thoughts plagued with a Suna Rin who wants nothing more than to get rid of you.

When you zip the bag close, moving becomes more difficult—like you're treading water.

This is it. The goodbye, the pain you've gone years trying to save yourself from until Suna happened. You wonder where you'll pick yourself up from this, everything begins and ends at him because even as you step out with the intention to leave, you're still all his.

Every step makes the weight of the world feel heavier and heavier, still, you make it to the front door.

Except he's actually there: his head leaning to the frame of the door, eyes glistening and red, his teeth pulling at the bottom of his lips. There's the Rintarou you know, the one who loves you and finds a way to show you somehow—crying at the sight of you about to leave.

You stand in front of him, your grip on the bag tightening with your already wavering resolve until he speaks, "Don't want you to go."

Love is ruthless—at the exact moment all your defenses should be up, they're all stripped down and you're skin and bones bare for your lover.

"What do you want then?"

"I thought—I've been thinking—I want you out of my life, y'know? 'm sure you know, 'course you do—I just," his voice cracks, you watch his body tremble ever so slightly, "In a way I still do and that's fucked up, YN."

It stings. Your nails digging in your palm so sharply, there just has to be some sort of pain more hurtful than this, the casual cruelty in the weight of the world and your love not wanting you—but there isn't, and you tremble, suck in a breath, choke in a sob, wait for the walls to cave in on you.

"...T-then?"

"But I love you—love you so much I'd rather take a bullet than watch you leave."

"You don't have to watch."

"I don't—but I'll wake up tomorrow and not have you there, and the day after that. That makes me feel sick, YN. I don't—I can't—"

"We should break up, Rin," you say. It's only true, yet to have to say it again hurts more than the last. Especially when you're watching him block the door, his head shaking in denial.

"Rin, please."

"You don't have to go—"

"But I do."

Nothing hurts more than letting go of something you don't really want to let go of; not when it's all yours. So, in turn, you sigh, and you let the bag fall to the floor.

You take one step closer to him and ask, "Do you hate me, Rin?"

You must be masochistic, to ask something like that to your lover who has already told you he wanted you out of his life, but maybe hearing it would keep you steady and ignore the fact that he's blocking the door, practically begging for you not to leave.

Except he doesn't answer you—it doesn't make it hurt any less; that he couldn't say no as much as he couldn’t say yes. With barely a fight, he's winning against your will.

You exhale. Tired, torn, falling apart at the seams.

"Okay," you concede. "I'll stay at the guest room. I'll give you a week, Rin. Pretend I'm not with you at all, then, after a week, please let me go if you still want me out of your life."

He looks like a lost, kicked puppy. Eyes following your movement as you turn on your heel and head for the guest room. You no longer wait for his answer. This is the best compromise you could afford to give him, and after that, nothing more.

#suna rintarou #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna #suna angst #haikyuu angst

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hexpea · 2 months

Text

Ch. 10 - Problematic AN: TW: Distressing medical event (seizure-like)

As the night wore on, Gojo couldn't resist the opportunity to tempt you again, even though the papers had been signed. Something had rooted deeply within him, something that had been planted all those years ago, that was especially triggered seeing you a second time after yet another 'final' goodbye. The memory of the night prior lingered in the air, making it difficult to ignore the temptation. You, too, would be lying if you refused the fact that you were completely enticed by his aura that night.

The group of you were on the dance floor once more. You and Ieiri were happily dancing together as Gojo sat at the bar alone, watching you and sipping on a glass of water of all things complete with his classic smile. Nanami was even there with you, albeit awkwardly standing in the middle of the floor with his drink, bodies bumping into him every once and a while as you and Ieiri attempted to get him to dance. And Ijichi, he was just happy to be there, smiling and nodding his head to the music despite this not really being his element.

Gojo did eventually find his way onto the floor again, this time coming up behind you and placing his hands lightly on your waist. Your eyes widened and nearly jumped at the sudden feeling of him behind you. You swallowed hard as you felt his lips brush against the shell of your ear and his body hard against your behind.

"You know," he whispered in a seductive tone, close enough for you to hear over the loud music. His grip on you made it so that you swayed off rhythm to the music. "I can't help but think about how good we are together, Y/N." His warm breath sent shivers down your spine as his words stirred memories of the previous night.

You turned to look at him, your heart racing as you met his blindfold. His intense gaze somehow burned right through the fabric, you knew exactly how he was looking at you. "Not here," you reminded him, protesting in a hushed voice. You were well aware of the eyes around you, including those of your friends.

His lips curved into a mischievous smile as his hand slid sensually down the front of your waist. Your heart skipped a beat as he stopped right before his fingers left your thigh. The people around you continued dancing. "I can't promise I won't try to convince you otherwise," he teased, his tone low and sultry. And this was him sober?!

Mixed, intense feelings had flooded your mind. The seduction in his voice sent a jolt of desire through you, and for a moment, it was as if the world around you had faded away. You knew you should resist the temptation, especially with your engagement to Seiko, but Gojo had a way of making you forget everything but the intoxicating chemistry between the two of you.

"Gojo," you heard Nanami's voice in an aggressive tone. "That's enough."

After looking at Nanami's angry expression, you looked down to find his hand gripping Gojo's wrist. So Gojo's at least self-aware. Your gaze then shifted to the man behind you, Gojo wearing his cocky grin as he stared at Nanami.

"Relax, Nanamin," he teased, releasing your body and putting his hands up in defense. "It's all in good fun. Don't be jealous, now."

Nanami released Gojo's wrist, something Gojo had allowed him to do -- figuring Gojo knew his place in the moment and opened himself up to that kind of touch. He at least had that kind of sense in him, but if he was using it it was a different story.

The brief commotion had drawn more eyes to you than you would've liked. Your mind had snapped back into the reality of the moment, a second of sober intuition. You had to stay away, you needed to leave. You pulled yourself from the dance floor and gave a quick, happy goodbye to Ieiri, Nanami, and Ijichi. The three of them giving loving smiles and promises for future visits.

You then headed out onto the street, preparing your Uber through the app on your phone as you leaned against the corner of the building and out of the way of others still coming and going. Unfortunately for you, Gojo had other plans. It didn't take him long to follow you out of the club, your engagement ring still in his pocket.

You looked up from your phone the moment you felt his tall and impeding figure in front of you, his hand just above you and resting on the brick wall. He looked directly down at you, effectively blocking your path and his voice laced with seductive intent. "Leaving so soon, Y/N?" He purred.

Your concerned doe eyes were caught in his gaze, blindfold deliberately around his neck once more. His intense blue eyes locked onto yours. The mixture of fear, desire, and confusion washed over you, rendering you helpless.

"Satoru, this isn't right," you stammered, your voice trembling, but your body betraying your words as you allowed his pelvis to press against yours and his hand retreated briefly to his pocket.

"Are you just gonna' leave this behind?" He asked playfully as he delicately took your left wrist and held it up, a teasing grin as he slid your engagement ring back onto your finger and a painfully slow pace.

Your mind was clouded and your defenses were crumbling as he taunted you. The temptation was too strong to resist, and the side of the building became an intimate and forbidden space where your desires threatened to consume you. Your resistance continued to wain as he continued to close the distance between you, his lips brushing against your earlobe once again and sending shivers down your spine. The ring on your finger suddenly felt heavy, reminding you of your commitment to Seiko.

"Satoru, we can't," you whispered, your voice filled with longing and regret. The internal battle raged within you as you fought against the overpowering allure of the man before you.

Gojo's fingers gently trailed along your jawline, drawing you in even further. "Who said we can't, Y/N? Please tell me I'm not the only one," his voice, though sultry, had a tinge of desperation as if he was attempting to ask a genuine question. "The connection..."

The intoxicating pull of his presence made it hard to think straight. You knew that giving in to him once again would be a betrayal of your commitment, though it had already been broken. Yet, you found yourself leaning into Gojo, your body craving his touch. Just as the temptation became almost too much to bear, the sound of sirens in the distance broke the spell. Panic surged through you and you realized that you needed to escape this situation before it spiraled further out of control.

"I can't, Satoru," you whispered, your voice almost sheepish as you dodged him to walk closer to the street, "I have to go." The Uber you had ordered was getting close.

Gojo reluctantly released you. Your heart was heavy with longing, but you knew that staying would only lead to further complications. You gave him one more look of sympathy before stepping into your Uber. He stood there and gave a single wave to you, crooked, close-lipped smile as the car drove off. You continued looking back at the club as his figure faded away in the distance.

Gojo later returned to his apartment, his own thoughts in turmoil. He had always come off as arrogant with you, a sense of selfish confidence but you were causing him to melt. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his own reflection, his mind consumed by the events of the past two days. He couldn't shake the feeling in his chest that he had for you, even though he knew he had no right to feel that way. He had no right in throwing himself at you like that.

With a deep, frustrated sigh, he turned on the faucet and leaned over, splashing cold water on his face. The shock of the cold liquid against his skin was meant to serve as a wake-up call, a way to snap him out of the whirlwind of emotions. He hated himself for falling in love with you, especially when he didn't have the right to interfere with your new relationship. It was his choice to get a divorce, and now he had to face the consequences of his choices.

But he had always been a soloist, not attached to anyone -- at least not again, not after the incident with Geto last Christmas. He knew that his strength had offset the balance of things, that he was dangerous to be around considering the threats that always found their way to him. At this point, it would be better to leave you alone simply because he didn't want you to get hurt.

Gojo leaned on the countertop, running a wet hand through his hair as he contemplated what he felt. He knew he had to respect your decisions, but that didn't make the ache go away. The realization that he was in love with you left him feeling helpless, and he despised himself for it. In the darkness of his apartment, he wrestled with his emotions, understanding that there was nothing he could do to change the past. The only option was to move forward, even if it meant living with the regret and knowledge that he could never have what he truly desired.

As he struggled with his thoughts, he was snapped out of his trance by his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled the device from his pocket and saw the name on the screen that was lovingly labeled Nanamin.

"Nanamiiinnn," he greeted playfully, as if nothing was wrong despite the inner turmoil he was experiencing. "To what do I owe the pleasure for a call from you at two in the morning?"

"Gojo," Nanami's tone was stern and unyielding. "We need to talk about your behavior at the club tonight."

Gojo sighed, realizing that his actions had caught up with him as if he didn't flirt with you openly the entire night. He was used to his co-sorcerer's scoldings, but never over the phone. This was special. "Look, Nanami, it's complicated," he began, trying to find the right words and maintain his happier tone.

"Complicated or not, you have to respect Y/N's choices," he interrupted with unwavering irritation. "She's moved on, and you need to do the same."

Gojo felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He knew Nanami was right, and he had no right to interfere with your life. "I know," he admitted, his voice filled with resignation. This caught Nanami off-guard. "I messed up tonight, and last night, and I regret it."

Nanami's tone softened slightly. "Y/N deserves a chance at happiness, just like you do. The marriage was arranged and neither of you wanted to do anything with it. Don't pretend like it matters now. You need to let her go."

Gojo nodded to himself, "you're right," he conceded without argument.

Nanami remained silent, a bit shocked by Gojo's maturity in his admission. It showed just how much Gojo had cared for you, his facade coming down immediately. It didn't excuse his actions, but Nanami couldn't help but feel a bit sympathetic. He understood the appeal, having had a crush on you himself in high school hence his defensiveness in regard to your happiness.

The conversation ended there, Nanami feeling satisfied with Gojo's response...for once. But that only meant Gojo went right back to stewing on his feelings toward you.

Meanwhile, you found your way back to your hotel and went upstairs, expecting to find Seiko awake and worried about where you'd been again. Instead, you were greeted with something else entirely.

The sight you were met with was incredibly distressing. Seiko was on the floor, appearing to have fainted, though their eyes were open. Their eyes were rolled back, pure white with distressed veins, and their lips were moving as if they were speaking in some sort of a dream. The symptoms were clear, but the question you had was who.

You rushed to their side without hesitation. "Seiko," you gently shook their shoulders. "Seiko, come back now..."

When they wouldn't snap out of it, you reached for your phone in your bag and dialed Ieiri's number as your hands trembled. If anyone could help, it would be her.

"Shoko," you panicked as soon as you heard her pick up the phone. You could hear the shower running in the background of her call, likely her getting ready for bed after the night of partying. "It's an emergency. It's Seiko, they're having some sort of medical event. I don't know what's happening, a seizure maybe, but you need to come here right now."

Ieiri didn't hesitate, quickly sobering up. "I'll be right there, stay with Seiko and make sure they don't hurt themselves or you, for that matter. I'll get there as soon as I can."

You nodded to yourself frantically, voice trembling. "Please hurry."

Seiko's condition seemed to worsen with each passing moment. You couldn't do anything but watch in terror, praying that Ieiri would arrive in time to save them.

#gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojou x you #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru gojou x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojou x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojou satoru #satoru gojou

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imtrashraccoon · 4 months

Text

Hey! Remember that poll about ice cream I put out like a month ago? It was for this chapter! Congratulations those who voted for having a hand in the plot!

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Killer - Dance

Word Count: 2,081

"wait, are you able to walk now?"

You startled at his question and quickly turned to look at him, unconsciously clutching your chest. "Sheesh...don't do that to me, Killer!" you hissed.

He laughed and nearly doubled over from doing so. You crossed your arms and fixed him with an unamused look until he'd recovered somewhat.

"sorry, i couldn't resist, angel..." he chuckled.

"Mhm."

"so, have you graduated from the crutches or something?"

You chuckled at the way he'd phrased his question. "I guess so. I've still got to wear a brace but I can put weight on my ankle now." You pulled up your pant leg slightly so he could see what you meant.

He nodded and his permanent smile stretched wider. "we should celebrate! do you know of any good clubs around here? wait no, how about an amusement park instead? or maybe..."

"Maybe something more low key...?" you asked carefully. "I'm still not back to normal just yet so I shouldn't do anything strenuous. How about a walk in the park instead? We could get ice cream..."

"sure, that's sounds good too." Killer shrugged and flashed you a carefree smile, completely unbothered that you'd interrupted him to suggest something different.

The world was just starting to warm up again after a cold Winter and while Summer was still several months away, you were glad the weather was taking a turn for the better. Maybe it was still a bit on the cool side for ice cream but you didn't care. You'd been cooped up in your tiny apartment for over a week and you were starting to go crazy for some fresh air. In your books, this was a welcome change from the monotony.

You went to get out your running shoes, when you remembered that with everything that had happened, you still hadn't found the missing one. You checked the shoe rack one more time just to be sure you hadn't missed it, but when that proved fruitless, you turned your attention to Killer.

"what?" he asked innocently when you held up the single shoe.

"What'd you do with its partner, buddy?" you demanded and advanced a few steps closer to him.

He held up his hands in a defensive way. "i swear it wasn't me!" he exclaimed all too quickly.

"Mhm, right."

He really tried his best to maintain a straight face, but the longer you continued to stare at him, the more cracks that began to show. Finally, he sighed and walked over to your tall bookshelf in the living room. Reaching up, he plucked your missing shoe from the top and handed it back to you.

"Seriously? You put it all the way up there?!" you grumbled. "How was I supposed to find that?"

He shrugged, "you would've found it eventually..." He tilted his skull and smirked before adding in a quieter tone, "eventually..."

"Yeah, when I moved out a couple years down the line!" You huffed as you pulled your shoes on. "Just because you happen to be gifted that way doesn't mean you get to hold your height over me!"

"mhm, right~"

You nearly smacked him for the illegal volume of sass he had thrown back at you. "Come on then, you oversized oompa loompa. Or I'll leave you behind and eat all the ice cream myself!"

"hey-!"

You cut off his protest by leaving your apartment and abruptly shutting the door behind you. A smug smile crept across your face at what you'd just done, but he appeared in front of you a second later.

"i resent that..." he hissed and pointed a boney finger at you. However, the mischievous smile gracing his skull said otherwise.

You made a show of dramatically rolling your eyeballs. "Aw man...it doesn't have the same affect when you can teleport."

Starting your way towards the stairs, you motioned for him to follow. "The park isn't far from here and there's a nice walking trail that goes around a pond."

Killer fell in step with you and while it took a little longer than the trip normally would take, you both arrived at the nearby park without incident. On the way, you noticed he seemed to be casually observing the area around you, but it wasn't like there was anything interesting to look at. Although, you were well aware that you lived in a rough area, so you chalked it up to him just keeping an eye socket out for potential threats.

You decided it would be best to get the ice cream first and then you could walk around while enjoying it. You knew there were some nice benches scattered along the path that you could rest at if you got too tired too.

To your surprise, Killer got a very normal flavour of ice cream. He didn't even scan the menu before picking chocolate and while you were tempted to get the same flavour, you had to get your favorite, which was chocolate mint.

After finishing your ice cream, you two continued walking slowly down the gravel path in relative silence, before your ears picked up the familiar sound of quacking. Killer seemed to notice as well and his skull snapped in the direction of the noisy fowl.

"I guess they're back now that it's Spring?" you wondered aloud. "I wonder if they have any babies yet, although it is still rather early I guess."

You wandered off the path a few paces until you could see half a dozen ducks paddling around and dabbling in the large pond for food. They seemed to be regular white ducks and actually reminded you of puddle ducks like the ones you'd read about in children's books when you were young.

"did you know it's not illegal to just take ducks home and keep them? no one owns them and no one would even care if you did," Killer commented in a thoughtful manner.

You gave him a weird look. "don't...ducknap them, okay?" you asked in a quiet voice.

He chuckled and waved you off. "nah, i can't even if i wanted to. everyone else would get mad if i brought another animal home i think."

You nodded, "Yeah, they're cute and all but they're not pets. It's best to leave them alone most of the time I think."

"hey." He waited until you glanced over at him in a questioning manner before continuing. "why do ducks fly south for the winter?"

"Because it's too cold...?"

He shook his skull. "nope, cause it's too far to waddle."

"...that was awful, Killer."

He held up a finger and grinned. "oh i'm just getting started, cutie." He thought for a moment before asking, "when is roast duck bad for you?"

You frowned, "when you're vegetarian?"

"nah, when you're the duck."

With a groan, you lightly punched his shoulder. "Stop...your jokes are awful..." you grumbled but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

"mkay, how about one that's less awful?" He chuckled and didn't even wait for you to answer. "what do you call it when it's raining chickens and ducks instead of cats and dogs?"

You stared at him blankly and let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know..."

"fowl weather."

"Huh... That one was actually kinda clever."

Killer seemed absolutely stoked by your compliment and he planted his hands on his hips proudly. You couldn't help but chuckle at his antics which only seemed to encourage him further.

This had been a surprisingly good day. You'd actually enjoyed yourself in the brief time Killer had been hanging out with you today. It was strange though. You couldn't put your finger on it, but it seemed like something had shifted between you two recently. He seemed like he was acting more genuine around you and less like he was hiding behind a specially crafted mask.

Then, a raindrop landed on your cheek, followed by another and another.

"Oh crap!" you gasped and glanced up at the gray sky. "I didn't realize it was going to rain today."

As it began to sprinkle more, Killer looked up as well and hummed in a contemplative way. "it looks like it'll pass over us soon."

"I didn't even think to bring a coat so I certainly hope so."

"hey."

You looked over at him again and hummed in response.

He grinned and took one of your hands in his own. Without explaining why, he abruptly swung you around before tugging you close again.

The sudden movement admittedly caused you to freak out a little. After being on crutches for so long and nearly losing your balance many times throughout, you couldn't help but panic a little bit.

"Killer! What are you...?" you protested.

He chuckled and gently shushed you. "i just wanna have some fun, angel cakes. just relax, i'm not gonna let you fall or anything."

You were confused for a moment, but when he released you and did a bit of a boogie, did it occur to you what he meant. You weren't a dancer and by the looks of things, he wasn't either. But there was something about the absurdity of this situation that just clicked with you.

It was lightly raining and you were being invited to dance by a silly skeleton with only the ducks as an audience. Why not? You couldn't remember a time when you had ever felt so carefree like this.

You both kind of bounced around in a completely uncoordinated way until you were red faced and out of breath. Killer seemed out of breath too, but the sheer joy he radiated was contagious and you found yourself giggling the longer this moment stretched on. His eye sockets had crinkled up and the red target floating above his chest seemed to have gone fuzzy along the edges too.

You braced your hands on your knees to try and catch your breath. When Killer slowly walked over to you again, you straightened up and flashed him a tired but happy smile.

He was smiling too but there seemed to be something else there as well. Like he was curious about something or had a silent question he wanted to ask.

"Okay...that was fun..." you panted.

He hummed in agreement and took your hands in his own. "this was better than going somewhere crowded and loud, cute cheeks," he hummed and lightly bumped his skull against your forehead.

You nodded. "I think it'd be fun to go out somewhere together at some point though, but I'm glad you liked this too."

One of his hands strayed to the small of your back and the other moved up to your shoulder blades. He hesitated for a brief moment, before quickly tugging your body to the right and dipping you. You gasped in surprise but he pressed his teeth against your lips, effectively silencing whatever protests you would've had. Moments later, he'd lifted you back up and pulled you close against his ribcage again.

The suddenness of the kiss left you feeling a little shell shocked and for a moment you just stood there while your brain caught up with what just happened. Your heart was racing and your cheeks felt hot, but not from the physical activity you'd just done together. And yet, there was a fluttering feeling in your chest and once you'd recovered a bit, you couldn't help but smile.

"are you okay, cutie?" Killer purred against your hair.

"I... Yeah, I'm fine..." you managed to mutter.

He chuckled and gently stroked your head before asking another question. "was that too far...?"

"No... I liked it."

He pulled back and seemed to scan your face for a moment. "if you're sure... i didn't even really think if you'd get mad or not. i just felt like it made sense in the moment," he said in a quiet voice.

You chuckled and playfully shoved him. "Well, a week ago I would've been really upset. Just...maybe ask next time before you do anything like that?"

He nodded and winked at you. "i'll try to remember, angel~"

You rolled your eyes and took his hand. "Come on then, buddy. I'm getting soaked and I really don't want to get sick after my ankle was just about back to normal."

He nodded in agreement and smoothly intertwined his phalanges with your own. You felt yourself blush slightly, but didn't pull away and let him keep holding your hand all the way back home.

#badsansuary #raccoons drabbles #undertale #killertale #something new #killer sans #killer sans x reader #reader #female reader #have some empathy dear #oneshot

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teaberrii · 4 months

Text

Chapter 17: The Fiancée

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

You part ways with Welt and Pom and quickly return to your cabin. You've just turned on the lights when Kafka picks up her phone.

“I didn’t think you’d still be up,” she says.

“Just goes to show how much this is keeping me awake.”

A soft chuckle. “Did I send you there to become a private investigator or to do market research?”

With a small smile, you say, “Why not both? Anyway, what did you find?”

"There was a meeting with the stakeholders and some of the higher-ups of the company. I briefly mentioned the project that involved Caelus and… I got an interesting response, to say the least."

"Why is she fixated on a failed project?"

Kafka slightly turned to one of the directors who spoke. Was it just her, or did he sound defensive?

"Let me clarify," Kafka said. "It was something that she came across while doing her job. I think it's inevitable that this would come up. Finding out why that project failed would be a step forward in ensuring this project is a complete success, which is what we want, isn't it?"

The room went silent.

"There's no specific reason why that project failed except that he wasn't willing to work with us."

“But, all of us know what happened to the owner,” Kafka said.

The director who'd spoken frowned. "Let's not get off track, shall we?"

"I hate to say it, but it's hindering our progress. It's something we have to face. She says that the people of Xianzhou are still attached to what happened. The hostility is still prevalent. There's a lot of speculation about Star Rails's involvement in what happened to Caelus. Unless we clear the air about what happened, it's—"

“We aren’t the ones to talk to,” a stakeholder interrupted. “And if this is all she’s found so far, I question if she’s really doing her job. Our customers aren’t the locals. While having their support would be nice, it’s not a requirement.”

“That’s quite a different stance from before.”

Kafka held his cold stare before another director changed the topic.

“It’d make more sense for them to cooperate if they had nothing to do with the situation,” you say.

"Which is why I went to do a little digging." Then, you hear a couple of mouse clicks. She says a man's name, one that you don't recognize. "He was the one getting all defensive at the meeting, but based on records, he would've been the 'big boss,' the one in complete control of the project with Caelus. He was in a quiet family scandal a long time ago."

"Quiet family scandal? How did you find that out?"

"You weren't at the company yet, but someone had sent a message to everyone at the company that his wife was involved in an affair with a man who was also in the hospitality business. It was dismissed as a nasty rumour meant to smear his reputation. But there was also speculation that it was meant to garner sympathy since he was a candidate for a promotion... which he got considering he's in the role right now."

You remember the story that Jing Yuan’s ex told you about:

"He made a convincing case that Caelus's father once had a mistress and got her pregnant, and Caelus and Stelle were born out of that affair."

“How… How long ago was this?” you ask. “Just curious.”

"Oh, it was like… years and years ago. Twenty years, at least."

“Did they ever find the person who sent that message?”

"It was an employee who said he got a tip from someone anonymous. He got fired, of course. Why do you ask?"

"There was a story that Caelus's father once had a mistress. She got pregnant with Caelus and his twin sister, Stelle. Caelus's uncle was the one who knew about it. It just made me think, well, what are the odds that this director, whose wife was involved in a cheating scandal, was the big boss of the project Caelus was involved in?"

You lean back on the couch. It's your logic, but even you have difficulty processing it. This has to be a coincidence. However, if this is what you think it is, then people are absolutely terrible.

“Let’s sleep on this for now."

By the time you end the call with Kafka, it’s almost midnight. You’re looking at the ceiling with your arms on either side, wondering if you’re finally seeing where this all began.

◆◆◆

The next morning, you have plans to see Jing Yuan later in the day. For the time being, you head out for an early morning run, not expecting to bump into Dan Feng, who just stepped out of Luocha's clinic.

“Early morning run? The three of us should go together next time.”

“Three of us?”

“Yeah. You, me, and Jing Yuan. It’ll be a family activity.”

You almost roll your eyes, and Dan Feng smiles. You glance at Luocha's clinic, bustling with visitors. "Were you getting a check-up?" you ask.

“...No.”

You slightly narrow your eyes. “What’re you hiding?”

Dan Feng puts a hand over his heart. “You hurt me, Mother. Why would you think I’d hide anything?”

“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re holding something that looks like painkillers.”

Dan Feng glances at the small bag of medicine he’s holding. He awkwardly scratches his head. “Yeah, okay, I can’t talk my way out of this one.”

“Are you okay? Did you get injured?”

“...My shoulder’s been acting up.” Before you can ask, he says, “But, I’m fine.”

You don’t have a choice but to take his word for it.

Then, you hear March say your name, and you turn and see her walking up to you with two drinks. "What's up with today? I just saw Jingliu and Dan Heng together a few minutes ago.” She hands Dan Feng a drink.

"So, that's where that kid ran off to this morning," Dan Feng says flatly, taking his drink. "He's been sneaking around recently."

“Oh, you’re exaggerating,” March says, rolling her eyes. Then, she looks at you. “Looks like Mom is out for a morning run.” She nudges you. “How are you and Jing Yuan, by the way? Has anything… happened yet?”

"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask with a chuckle.

Dan Feng coughs. "I'm still here, you know."

You're walking back to the bed and breakfast with March and Dan Feng when you say, "Hey, um, do you two know anything about Caelus and Stelle's mother?"

“She passed away,” March says. “When they were really young. Why?”

"There was a rumour that Caelus and Stelle were born out of an affair." March almost chokes on her drink. "And if this is true… Well, it'd be a step forward."

"An"—March coughs twice—"affair?!"

Dan Feng grabs March's wrist and pulls her back before she walks onto the road where a car zooms by.

“I guess you didn’t know about it,” you say.

"I most certainly didn't." She nudges Dan Feng. "Did you?" When he remains silent, she asks, "Why're you so quiet?"

The light turns green, and the three of you cross the street. "I just… I remembered something that Dan Heng said. Not sure if it's completely relevant to what we're talking about, but…"

Dan Feng pushed the locker room open. He'd just taken off his shirt, ready for a nice hot shower, when he heard his brother talking to someone. They had stayed late to train, so there shouldn't be anyone left in the locker room. Dan Feng walked further and saw his brother standing in front of their lockers. He was on the phone.

“...Stelle, calm down,” he said. “It must’ve been a mistake. Did you ask them to double-check?”

Dan Feng couldn’t make out her reply.

“...Okay.” Dan Heng turned and was a little surprised when he saw his brother. “...Yeah. Talk to you soon.”

Once Dan Heng got off the phone, Dan Feng asked, "Is Stelle okay? What happened?"

“She’s at the hospital.”

“Why? What for?”

“She wasn’t feeling well and went to the hospital for a check-up. They took some blood tests and…”

“...And?”

“Oi! Is anyone still in here? We’re closing up!”

"...It's like ending on a cliffhanger," March says. "So, he never told you, and you never asked again?"

"He later said she was fine, so I didn't ask about the details."

At the bed and breakfast, you see Jing Yuan talking to another man dressed in a casual suit. They shake hands, and the man gets into a taxi.

March watches the car drive off and then turns to Jing Yuan. “Lookin’ spiffy there, my man.”

"You're right on time," Jing Yuan says, taking your hand. Then, he notices the bag of medicine Dan Feng is holding. "Did you go see Luocha this morning?"

“Yeah. It’s, uh, it’s for my back.”

March makes a fist and lightly coughs into it, and Dan Feng shoots her a look.

“...Is something going on?” Jing Yuan asks, glancing between his two friends.

“Nah. Don’t worry about it.”

Jing Yuan looks at you. “Have you told them yet? About Caelus’s uncle being in town?”

“What?"

March and Dan Feng's simultaneous reply makes them glance at each other. Then, March asks, "Why in the world is he here?"

“We don’t know,” you say. “It’s also what we’re trying to figure out.”

“...Why is everyone gathered out here?”

“Oh, look who decided to show up,” Dan Feng says, turning to his brother. “Where’s Jingliu?”

Dan Heng walks up beside him. "Something came up."

March sighs. “Caelus’s uncle is back in town. Did you know?”

“...Yeah. Jingliu and I saw him at the restaurant yesterday.”

"What?"

Again, Dan Feng and March glance at each other. Then, she sighs. "I don't know if I should be surprised or what anymore…"

“Let’s talk inside,” Jing Yuan says, nodding towards the stone villa.

Soon, all of you are sitting on the sofas inside. Pom comes in with a tray with cups of tea for everyone and then sits on the last empty seat.

“I hereby start this meeting to discuss the big question,” Pom says, “What the hell are we going to do?”

March picks up a pink cup. “That’s one heck of a question, Pom.” She sips her tea.

“...Let’s start smaller, shall we?” Jing Yuan says. “Does he being here have anything to do with Caelus?”

“Probably not,” Dan Heng answers, and everyone turns to him.

“Why do you say that?” March asks.

“He’s here because of Jingliu.” March almost drops her cup. “He’s here to convince her to make a business deal.”

“Oh, God,” Dan Feng mutters. “Here we go again…”

You remember the man and the woman you saw at her gym the other day. “Were those people we saw at her gym involved with him?”

Dan Heng nods. “She didn’t accept their offer.”

"...So, he couldn't take no for an answer and decided to show up to try to convince her?" March asks. Then, she makes a disgusted face. "Ugh. Clingy men are the absolute worst."

“He might be here for Jingliu,” Jing Yuan says, “But… There might be another reason.”

Jing Yuan dropped Yanqing off at Clara’s house for her birthday party, and he was on his way to bed and breakfast when he got a call. He glanced at the number and took it via Bluetooth.

“I didn’t think I’d hear from you again,” Jing Yuan said sarcastically.

“Oh, trust me, Jing Yuan, I wouldn’t call you if I didn’t have to.” Jing Yuan’s car came to a stop at a red light. “Tell me, is your girlfriend still playing detective and investigating what happened to Caelus?”

“Don’t tell me you called just to ask me that.”

“Look, I don’t know how much she already knows. But, out of the goodness of my heart, it’s best to leave things in the past where they belong.”

"...Or, are you afraid we're getting closer to the truth?"

“The ‘truth’ that all of you are desperately pursuing… It won’t do anyone any good, especially your girlfriend who still works at Star Rails. You’d only be hurting her and her career. Think about it.”

Then, the line went dead.

“...Leave things in the past where they belong, huh?” Pom says quietly.

"Doesn't this mean he's just scared?" March asks. "He has something to do with what happened to Caelus, and he's framing it so we're the ones who'll get hurt if it gets out."

You look at Dan Heng. “Hey, there’s something I’d like to confirm.” After telling him about the possibility of Caelus and Stelle being born out of an affair and what Dan Feng told you about Stelle, you ask, “Do you remember what Stelle called you about that day? Why was she anxious?”

“...It had to do with her blood type.”

“Her blood type?” March asks.

“It didn’t match what she was told.”

“You’re at the hospital?” Dan Heng asked, eyes slightly wide.

“...I’m fine, Dan Heng. It’s just a check-up.”

Dan Heng had his suspicions. When Stelle had told him about her new friends, Dan Heng was happy that she was getting used to life in the city. They were all from broken families, apparently. But when he noticed changes in her behaviour and how she was “coping well”, something didn’t sit right with him. She’d reassured him that she wasn’t doing anything dangerous, and Dan Heng, who had his problems to worry about, didn’t have a choice but to take her word for it.

“Anyway, that’s… That’s not what’s important,” Stelle said.

“Then, what is?”

“When she got her blood tests back, her blood type was different from what she had always known.”

“That doesn’t sound like something to panic over,” Dan Feng says, raising a brow.

“I thought so, too,” Dan Heng says. “She started going on about how she heard from Caelus that their mother might’ve been someone else. I didn’t really take her seriously because…”

“...You thought it was the drugs talking.” Dan Feng says.

Jing Yuan puts down his cup of tea. "Let's try piecing together what we have so far. They were told their mother died when they were very young. At some point, Stelle had to know her parents's blood type for whatever reason. Caelus's father lied or got it wrong."

"...And if she had her suspicions, the blood test might've confirmed them," you say.

“Aren’t we getting a little off track?” Pom asks. “Does this woman have something to do with all of this? Or even Caelus’s uncle?”

“She might,” you say. Then, you tell them about what Kafka told you.

“Wait. Hang on a darn minute.” March takes a small moment to gather her thoughts. “The wife of a director at Star Rails was the mistress?”

“...And out of spite… revenge… or whatever it was,” Pom says, “the director decided to take it out on the children like… twenty years later?”

"He probably didn't know children came out of the affair," Dan Heng says, sighing. "Until much later."

"Three guesses as to who fed him that piece of information," Dan Feng says flatly. "Caelus's motherfucking uncle must have told him! I mean... The dude must've known that his brother had a side chick and everything. Maybe he pieced together the puzzle and then served the information to our big, bad director on a silver platter."

March’s shoulders fall. “Angry and annoyed… Our big, bad director probably wanted to ruin whatever they had.”

"Caelus's uncle would be able to fulfill his motives as well," you say. "...Whether that'd be getting some control over Caelus's hotel, money, or pressuring his nephew to do the unthinkable."

“And then they hatched a plan which got Jing Yuan’s ex involved… and… Augh!” Pom frowns. “My head hurts.”

“...But we still need some kind of proof that they did it with the intent to harm,” you say quietly.

"Also, if this is true…" Dan Heng looks at you. "Then, the warning he gave to Jing Yuan… It's real. This director could possibly fire you."

“Yeah, but he’d have no reason to, right?” March asks. “She, well, us… We just know about it. To fire her because of something she knows? That’s suuuper suspicious.”

“It'd be proof that everything we just speculated was true," Jing Yuan says.

“But, how well will that hold in court?” Dan Feng asks.

You sigh. “Truth be told… I don’t even know if I want to go back anymore.”

"...I don't mean to raise more questions," Pom says, and everyone turns to him. "But… What happened to the woman? One is the mistress, right? So, Caelus's dad was married or was in a relationship with another woman. What happened to her? None of us have ever met her."

“Should we put up missing posters?” Dan Feng asks in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Suddenly, March’s stomach growls loudly.

“Sorry… All this thinking got me hungry.”

Dan Feng stands. “We think better on a full stomach anyways.”

March innocently looks at Jing Yuan. “Is it the boss’s treat?”

He gives her a look but finally says, "Fine. Just this once."

March fist pumps the air. As she, Dan Feng, and Pom head out, Dan Heng walks up to Jing Yuan.

“...Hey, do you have a minute?”

You and Jing Yuan glance at each other, and you walk ahead as the two men stay behind.

◆◆◆

You, March, Pom, and Dan Feng are sitting at a table when Jing Yuan and Dan Heng arrive.

“What were you two talking about, hm?” March asks.

“Nothing,” Dan Heng says.

Dan Feng, with his elbows on the table, slightly leans forward. “What’s with you and secrets lately, huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You randomly disappeared this morning, and it turns out you were with Jingliu,” Dan Feng says. “You also didn’t join us for dinner the other day.”

“Did you and Jingliu have dinner together?” you ask, half-jokingly.

“We did.”

Everyone, except Jing Yuan, looks at Dan Heng. Dan Feng and March are the ones who look the most surprised.

March scoots her chair closer. "So… It was like… a date?"

“Is it that surprising?” Pom asks.

“Oh, well, it’s just… I’ve never imagined her going on a date with anyone.”

“Speaking about secrets,” Dan Heng says, looking at his brother. “I’m not the only one with something to hide.”

“Hey, man, I ain’t secretly going on dates.”

“I believe he’s talking about your shoulder,” Jing Yuan says.

March nudges her friend. “I told you the others would find out sooner or later,” she mutters. She looks at Jing Yuan. “But, how’d you know?”

“The painkillers.”

“Ah…”

Dan Heng looks at his brother. “...I overheard you and March in the bathroom.”

Pom looks from March to Dan Feng and back to March. “Um… Why were you two in the bathroom together?”

“Because someone dragged me in there,” March says, frowning.

“That raises more questions than answers,” you say.

“Anyway"—Jing Yuan looks at Dan Feng—“...How’s your shoulder?”

“Not bad. Nothing to fuss over.”

“What about your training?” Pom asks. “Don’t overdo it!”

"...Yeah… Well… about that… I…" Dan Feng sighs. "I'm going to drop out of the Games." The silence is brief before he says, "Gosh, don't go all silent on me. It's awkward!"

March puts down her fork. “You… You mean that, right? You aren’t just saying it to get everyone to stop worrying.”

“Would I lie to you, dear March?”

“Then… That means you’ll go through with the surgery, right?”

“Surgery?” Pom asks, eyes widening. “It’s that bad?”

“...Yeah,” Dan Feng says quietly. “I’ll go through with the surgery.”

You watch as March leans over to give him a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you!”

“Get off me, March,” he deadpans but gently pats her back.

“This must’ve taken a lot of courage,” Jing Yuan says, and everyone turns to him. Then, he smiles. “But, it’s a wise choice.”

Just as March lets him go, Pom says, “I think so, too. Health should always come first!”

“Have you decided on a date?” you ask.

"Not yet. The sooner, the better, I suppose…"

“...Perhaps I’ll be your rehab trainer,” Dan Heng says.

“Is that a joke?” Dan Feng asks. “You’d be too busy training.”

Pom looks back and forth between the brothers. “...My confession senses are tingling.”

Dan Heng puts down his chopsticks. “I’ve been thinking about going into sports psychotherapy.”

“Really?” March asks. “Wait… What sparked this decision?”

“I think it suits you,” you say.

“...So, you’re going to give up?”

Everyone looks at Dan Feng, and March asks, “Hey, why so serious? I think it suits him, too.”

“You can still compete," Dan Feng says, ignoring her. "This might be your last chance of getting another gold."

“...And what would be the point of that?” his brother asks calmly.

“I want to compete but can’t. You can compete but won’t.”

“Now, now…” Pom cuts in before things can take a turn for the worse. “Let’s finish eating, shall we? The food’s getting cold.”

◆◆◆

After lunch, everyone breaks into pairs and heads back to the bed and breakfast. March and Dan Feng take the lead while Pom keeps Dan Heng company. You and Jing Yuan are a little behind the others. You've noticed that the brothers haven't really spoken since that conversation at the table.

As if reading your mind, Jing Yuan gently squeezes your hand. "...They'll be okay."

“I hope so…” Then, you turn to him. “Was everything okay earlier? Between you and Dan Heng?”

“He was looking for some advice.”

“Advice?” Could it have something to do with the conversation earlier?

"...He wanted to know the best way he could support Jingliu without being nosy."

"Caelus's uncle must be giving her trouble," you mutter.

Jing Yuan sighs. "I wouldn't be surprised if he is."

"...Speaking of him… Herta's friend reached out to me, and I got some new information."

“Oh?”

Then, you tell him about the man and the sister.

“They were friends with Caelus's uncle. I don’t know what I’ll get out of them, but I think it’s worth asking if they knew about anything that was happening with Caelus or maybe even the rumours and what Caelus’s uncle was planning.”

“It doesn’t seem like they have a motive to hide anything,” Jing Yuan says.

“Right?”

“The more information we have, the better.”

"I think so, too. I don't know if we'll ever get Caelus's uncle or Star Rails to confess, but if we can get evidence that they did it with malicious intent, we could get people on our side."

“It’d be hard to fight back.” Then, Jing Yuan takes your hand, to your surprise. Both of you stop just shy of turning a street corner. “Now, all of that aside… Would the lovely lady be interested in joining me for dinner at my place tonight?”

“How can I say no?”

"Good. Because there's a new recipe I want you to try. If it's good, it'll be made available to our customers."

“Oh, I get it,” you say jokingly. “I’m just your guinea pig.”

"It's a dessert I made with you as my muse. So, of course, you have to give it the final approval."

Trying but failing to hide your little smile, you ask, “Since when did you have the time for this?”

“When there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“Well, I’ll see you tonight then, General.”

◆◆◆

You know you should focus on work, but your eyes keep wandering to the clock. It's late afternoon, exactly two hours when Jing Yuan's going to pick you up. Your heart's racing out of excitement at the thought of the date, but there's a part of you that cannot leave things hanging. So, you pick up your phone and dial the woman's number.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

“Hello?”

Looks like luck is on your side.

After briefly exchanging pleasantries and introductions, you tell her why you've called. By the end, you say, "I know he threatened you and your brother, but has it ever got to the extent that he made threats on your life? Or… perhaps he was making comments that made you feel like you had no way out?"

“...You’re asking if he wanted to push us to do the unthinkable.” A pause. “The fallout that he and my brother had was their business. I didn’t have anything to do with what happened between them. Looking back on it now, I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

"Mind if I ask why you did back then? Surely, something was motivating you to take action for your brother."

“...Out of spite.” You’re about to ask when she says, “...Because he was the brother of the man I dated.”

The brother of the man—

Your eyes widen upon connecting the dots. “Wait… Are you saying you’re—”

“Caelus and Stelle’s father… I was his fiancée when he cheated.”

Chapter 18

End notes: If everything goes according to plan, there should be only three chapters left.

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @queencybow @nqctre @grimreapersscythe @winterpein @asakenajustexistshere

#jingyuan x you #jingyuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan

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fizzing-imagines · 11 months

Text

Ahoy | Steve Harrignton x Navy! Reader

Notes: I'll be spamming y'all while I still have WiFi.

Warnings: None

Words: 1.7k

"Ahoy there. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavour with me? I'll be your captain, I'm Steve Harrignton." What an introduction. You laughed at his words while fishing a tenner out of your backpocket.

"Ahoy there, I'm your seaman (Y/N) (L/N) at your service.", you replied, still grinning. Steve's eyes went wide at your words. "(Y/N), as in...the army dropout?" He gave himself a mental slap at the words he chose. But you looked so different. The once introverted girl who wore baggy clothes to cover up her body now wore a crop top with tight jeans, heeled shoes and an everlasting smile on her face. He could see the muscles on your arms and stomach, and clear outlines of the same on your legs. "Who gave me that nickname? I was just Harringtons ex before I left" , you said, still grinning at your ex-boyfriend behind the counter. "One chocolate and one vanilla in a cone please." He starred at you for another second before getting to work. "You know Steve, if I didn't know better I would've thought that you were flirting with me." This isn't how he remembered you. You were so shy and quiet in high school, always reserved and never too loud. Two years ago, you wouldn't have said anything like this. Did bootcamp do all of this to you? He handed you the ice cream, you gave him your money in exchange. "You can keep the change if you'll take me out later today." Now this was a bold move on your side, but with how your confidence grew after just three months at base it wasn't very uncharacteristic for you now. To Steve, however, it was. "S-sure. Same house?", he said, now unsure of what he was doing himself. "Yeah, I'm visiting for a month." You smiled at him, took a lick of your ice cream, then gave him a wink. "8pm sharp, go with something nice and casual." As you've turned on your heel, he couldn't help but stare after you.

As 8pm rolled around, you were already waiting in the hallway. "Sweetie, is it really a good idea to go on a date with your ex?", your mother pressed as you put on your black heels. "Mom, please, we've been over this. I've changed, he changed. It's been 3 years." She was only looking out for you, you understood. Your mother remembered very clearly how wrecked you were when Steve broke up with you, and how much more it wrecked you when he started dating Nancy just two weeks after. It played into why you left high school so quickly to join the military. Maybe it was a bad idea, but it was a good experiment. "If anything happens, you call. Okay?", she reassured herself once again. "I will, don't worry." Even though you were in the navy, fully trained and capable of self-defense, she still wanted to protect you at all costs. That's just how mothers are. As she wanted to start another sentence, your doorbell rang. 8pm sharp. You went to open the door to be greeted by Steve, holding pink roses in his hand, with a slight smile on his face. "Ahoy there.", you said with a grin, mocking what he said earlier. "Ready to sail?" He grinned now as well with a feeling that tonight was going to be good. After putting a flowers in a vase and putting it in the kitchen for now, you left with Steve in his car. He thought all day about where to take you, what to do with you, and especially when he doesn't really have the money to take you out. So, he decided to drive around town with you to talk, get takeout at a pizza place and stop at Lovers Lake to eat dinner with you.

"So, a seaman?", he started. You chuckled at his words. "Yup. Bootcamp in Indianapolis, based in California.", you said. "Honestly, bootcamp was a blessing. It really turned me around." Steve smiled at your words while still watching the road, although he would've loved to look over. "I can tell, your confidence is glowing out of you.", he commented, still smiling. "I know, there's something about wrestling fully grown men in mud that gives you a confidence boost." While it was exhausting, you were happy to do it in the end. Steve gave a small, nervous laugh at your comment, wondering what the hell happened in those three months. So he asked: "What did you do there anyways?". You liked remembering bootcamp - while it was exhausting, you've never had more fun in your life. While your mom always told you that high school was supposed to be the best years of your life, your veteran father was right when he said that bootcamp would be. "It was pretty basic training at first. You know, showing us the ropes and stuff. I got to fire a weapon during week four, and that was when I realized that the military was my true calling." Steve imagined you with a gun in your hand - yes, it was hot but he also just couldn't see it knowing how you were two years ago. "Before graduating, we had Battle Stations. That's basically 12 different tasks we, as a team, had to do to get our navy ball cap." You've beamed in pride at this point, so much that Steve couldn't help but take a glance over at you. You were beautiful. So, so beautiful. "And you got it, I assume.", he said, now smiling himself. "I did, with flying colors." Jesus, your smile. Your smile was still just as beautiful. He regretted ever leaving you in the first place, especially for someone he didn't have a future with. But he saw it in you - your eyes, your smile, your entire demeanour. And he had a chance to make it right tonight.

"I hope you still like pizza.", he said as he pulled into the parking lot of the pizza place. "Depends, do you remember my order?" Jesus, it stayed the same. "Salami pizza with extra cheese, mushrooms and spinach." He memorized all your orders by heart. "Shit man, you really did remember." You laughed while talking. Cursing was also something new you did. "How could I not, who puts spinach on their pizza." He joked about it, although after trying it it wasn't too bad. "The navy does, apparently." You grinned at him while unbuckling your belt. The two of you went inside, ordered your pizza and sat down next to each other while waiting. "You know, spinach is high in iron." You couldn't help but continue your spinach rant. "Is it now?", he asked with a raised eyebrow. You nodded while grinning. "I think all of the fat from the cheese and salami cancel out the healthy parts, you know." He was teasing you, but all you did was laugh. "Probably, but the placebo effects works." You put your arm on the table and flexed the muscles in it. "See. You don't get these from nothing." Steve was in awe as he saw your arm. You must've worked so hard on that. "Jesus, your muscle mass must be bigger than mine.", he said, laughter laced in his voice. "Oh, my legs are even bigger. And I got abs now!" Since you were wearing a dress, you couldn't show him yet but his face told you that he believed every word you said. As he wanted to reply, your food was done. Steve paid for the both of you, carried the two boxes to his car and drive off to Lovers Lake with you.

The two of you got comfortable on the hood of his car, watching the stars as you ate your pizza. "See, you can navigate towards north with Polaris." You pointed upwards to the sky. Honestly, Steve couldn't make out which star you were pointing at, and you could tell by his confused face. "See, this is the big dipper." He knew that much. "And now you locate the two pointer stars. Those point to Polaris, which is the tail of the little dipper." He tried following your words with his eyes. "So if you're ever lost, you know you'll go north when you're facing Polaris." He watched the stars a bit more before looking back at you. The moon, a full moon, was shining just right tonight. Your face looked beautiful under the moonlight, illuminating your perfect features just right. While he wanted to comment on your astronomy lesson, he couldn't help but fumble over his own thoughts: "You're beautiful." He could see how your cheeks flushed red just a little, but you've quickly regaining your composure. "So are you.", you added. Since your fingers were full of fat from the pizza, you whiped your hand off on your dress before letting it stroke through his hair. "Still as soft as ever." Your voice was dreamy and while watching his curls go through your fingers you eyes were just the same. "(Y/N).", he said while watching your facial expressions. Your hand left his hair before looking at him again. "Hm?" There was that beautiful smile on your face again. "Can I kiss you?" You didn't even need to think about your answer. In fact, you leaned forwards until your lips met his. Fireworks went off in both of your stomachs. This felt right, this was supposed to be, this is everything the two of you needed to feel complete. The kiss was soft, yet both of you were hungry for more. With both pizza cartons being pushed on the roof by Steve, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his body, resulting in the two of you to lay down on the hood and window of his car. The kiss broke eventually, but your lips only parted millimetres apart. "I missed you.", he whisper. "Let me make it right. What I did to you." Steve leaned forwards to kiss you once again. His words made you melt. Yes, you missed him as well. Your inner teenager never stopped loving him to be precise - you wanted this. Once the two of you broke the kiss again, for real this time, he starred into your eyes. "I'd like a second chance if you'd let me.", he mumbled. You smiled at him with flushed cheeks and glowing eyes. If your pupils were able to change shape, they'd be in heart shapes right now.

"I'd like that very much."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington

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yrluvjane · 1 year