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taurus-caeli · 1 month

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The Exciting Chronicles of The Shapeshifter & The Eccentric Gentleman

I / II / III / IV (You're here) / V

My patience is waning

Is this entertaining?

Our patience is waning

Is this entertaining?

(Bones, Imagine Dragons)

Words: 2.4k

Number One opens the door and quietly steps inside; behind me, it shuts with a soft click. There’s grass beneath his shoes.

Scratch that, there’s grass everywhere.

Observing his surroundings, it looks like there’s a miniature forest here. Grass seems to have grown from underneath the floorboards. Seedlings are sprouting not just from the floor but the walls as well and the sweet scent of flowers permeates the air (it’s almost nauseating). Birdsong can be heard from somewhere further in.

Directly in front of him is some kind of object that used to be a bed; now it’s more like a nest made from grass. Further beyond that is a hallway that goes right where the birdsong is coming from. Also, there’s an open balcony with a view a couple feet from the ‘nest’.

Suddenly, he felt out of place, like a snake slithering through the garden of some nobles’ garden. The analogy is almost appropriate because it makes him grin. Walking towards the hallway, he turns and finds a…creature hunched over in front of a table of food.

This…mass of grass held up by Celestia-knows-what and bones is staring at…a hot dog and some bento. It’s almost funny. Number One leaned against the wall, put on the most charming grin he could and dropped his perception filter. Just as they reach down to pick it up, he chooses that moment to make himself known.

“Golly! That sure does look tasty!” he said cheerfully. They make a choking noise. Their meal is swiftly forgotten in favor of finding out who said that, aka me.

All five eyes are on me now. Showtime.

“Greetings my delightfully eldritch fellow! I come in peace!” They open their mouth and his ears are assaulted with a freakin’ heavenly choir.

“¿noʎ ǝɹɐ ʞɔnɟ ǝɥʇ oɥM” Their voice sounds both male and female combined and angelic and demonic. Delightful.

He bowed his head in respect. “My apologies my good man-er, woman…beast? Creator. I’ll go with that. My apologies to my good creator, but I’m afraid I don’t understand you. A moment, if you will allow.”

And then he snapped his fingers. There’s a small change in the air, but only those such as myself and them could feel it. Eldy sniffs the air. “What did you-holy shit I can talk normally again!”

“Yes! Call me Number One. I’d like to discuss something much bigger than the both of us. A grave emergency that concerns not only you, but those in a similar situation,” I explain. Shaking his head, I add, “I hate to sound dramatic, but I’m telling it how it is. Though it’s not as serious as what you’re probably imagining.”

Eldy is listening intently. One goes on with his spiel. “Throughout the Imaginary Tree-yes that Imaginary Tree-” They look at me confused. “Wait, do you not know what that is? Ugh, fine. I am here to inform you that there are others like you caught in a leadership role that they have no experience in.”

When they don’t interrupt him, he continues. “After half a year of observation, I’ve declared it my intent to rescue those who’ve been thrust into more…risky scenarios. Imagine this: you wake up lying on a grassy field instead of your bed. You get your bearings when suddenly a bunch of familiar video game characters walk toward you, announce that you’re their long-lost god, and proceed to worship you like a bunch of cul-excited followers.”

“Does this sound familiar?” he asks, testing the waters.

Eldy just nods in lieu of an answer. “But that’s not where it ends. These innocent people soon realize they’re out of their depth; the Seven Nations all flock toward them in fealty. They can’t meet every demand no matter how earnest or hard-working they are. Eventually their ruse would be discovered and they’d be executed.”

He shakes his head in shame and sorrow. “There are those who are hunted down because they looked similar to their god. Some survive, and are forever traumatized for the rest of their life. These are the ones that suffer the most, the ones whose injustice I can’t stand. I wish to help them, and to do that I need your knowledge.”

There’s a tense unsureness in the air now. He knows it’s time to wrap this up. “I know we’ve only just met, but I humbly ask as a fellow being with empathy and decency for your guidance. I know that you have been looking into the multiverse in your spare time, researching this anomaly. Please, share what you know with me and I promise you that I will put a stop to this once and for all.”

Number One bows ninety degrees to hide his frown. “I know what I request sounds big, but all I need from you is to tell me what you know of the anomaly.”

///

As the door closed, Mercy had already shapeshifted. They became taller, their hair grew to waist-length and became colored white; it automatically braided itself too. Their clothing morphed into a black bodysuit with a white-gray sleeveless qipao top over it. Their boots became open-toed heels. When they looked down they found their arms were quite longer than usual.

Mercy walked over to a nearby window. What stared back was a young woman with snow white hair and pale iridescent eyes. Oh. She’s truly a beautiful specimen. Specimen? Spec-ugh, I need to stop hanging around Number Two. He’s infecting me with his diction.

“Anyway, time to pretend to stand guard and not let anyone in. Taking in Shenhe’s homicidal tendencies, she will act as the perfect deterrent,” Mercy said to themself in the disciple’s voice.

Thus, Mercy crossed their arms and stood in front of the door with a stoic expression. They knew it wouldn’t take long for Number One to ask for permission; Mercy figured it would take approximately ten minutes. Now, how to occupy oneself? The shapeshifter tapped their foot. This shouldn’t be too difficult…

Before they realized it, they began to hum a song. “Think of these thoughts as limitless light exposing, closing circuitry of fright/Think of each moment holding this breath as death minute in decimal…”

From what they could piece together about it, the song was supposed to be about some guy who allegedly murdered his girlfriend. Then they pleaded guilty via insanity in court and were sentenced to shock therapy. The whole thing was morbid, but there was something interesting within it. Mercy kept humming it to themself. At least the beat is catchy.

Several minutes later Mercy sensed someone up ahead. Turning the corner was a pair of teenagers; one had blue hair while the other had white hair. Upon further observation, they looked to be friends; currently they were in passionate discussion about…something related to exorcisms?They were so fixated on it that they didn’t notice Mercy until White-Hair bumped into them.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you-huh!? Aun-auntie Shenhe?” exclaimed White-Hair. He looked at“Shenhe” from head to toe like some sort of inspector. “What are-what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? Is it not necessary for the Creator to have someone bodyguarding their quarters?” Mercy replied in an emotionless voice.

Blue-hair looked at White-hair with a curious expression. He leaned in close to his ear and spoke in a hushed voice. “Chongyun, didn’t you say your aunt would be working at Wanmin’s while Xiangling is out?”

Chongyun grunted. “Of course! She even told me this morning herself!”

Uh-oh, better make up an excuse to cover my tracks. What was the restaurant’s owner’s name again? …Oh, right! “Mr. Mao informed me that, ‘because business was going slow for the day, I could clock out early,’. That was what he told me. I figured I deserved an early shift, so that’s what I did.”

“Oh, I see. Well then, could we possibly greet the Creator? We know that it’s currently the time they eat breakfast, but we were wondering if we could ask them a quick question,” Chongyun explained.

“It’s very important that we do!”

Chongyun gave a flat look. “Xingqiu, asking Them if they want to practice martial-arts with you is going to get us in trouble-get you in trouble!”

Xingqiu crossed his arms and looked away indignantly like someone who’d been read like an open book. “I must disagree with you my friend. I simply wish to ask! Should they deny my request, then I will take my leave with no further complaint.”

His exorcist friend put his hands on his hips, clearly unconvinced. Before he could get a word out, Mercy interjected into their conversation.

“No means no. I’m afraid you two will have to wait until Their Grace is finished with their meal.” Please go away now, you’re bothering me.

Xingqiu opened his mouth to try again, only for Chongyun to cover it with his hand. The latter shook his head without a word; Xingqiu sighed dejectedly and accepted the silent message.

The young exorcist nodded to “Shenhe” before he turned around, led Xingqiu down the hall and turned the corner. Mercy counted to ten before they dropped their facade. With a sigh, they covered their face with their hands.

“That was…an experience. Gosh, I thought those two would never leave,” they muttered. Mercy wiped their palms on their pants. I wonder if Number One’s done yet. I’m not sure if I can handle being in the spotlight again…

Crash

The almost muted sound of porcelain hitting the floor made them snap their head to the door. Just what was going on in there?

///

SEVERAL MINUTES EARLIER…

Number One and Eldy were sipping tea on the balcony.

Number One casually sipped from a teacup while sitting cross-legged in front of Eldy. “So tell me, what are your current projects? I’m excited to hear what someone as great and powerful as you has planned for this Teyvat’s future.”

“Ah, well you know. A bunch of societal reforms are currently in the works,” they replied with a shrug of their leafy coat. Geo crystalflies had gathered in their branches to rest.

“Like what?” Number One asked curiously.

“Uh-something about banning plastics? I think-I think Neuvillette mentioned something about the waters in Fontaine being polluted the other day.” They made wild gestures in the air. “And then while having my weekly tea with Zhongli, I told him ‘no more sacrificing convicts in my name! I don’t like it!’. It took a while to convince him about it though.”

“Saving life because you think it’s precious. I can respect that.”

They shuffled their feet. “Uh, sure.

“Ah…plastic consumption. Yes, such a devilishly difficult issue to tackle…” the gentleman said thoughtfully. Another sip. “Again, I feel I must apologize for my enthusiasm earlier. I’m supposed to follow protocol, for your information, and be polite about these things. We’re rather…hm, we’re what one might call a stickler for the rules we made.”

Eldy grunted. “Well, good for you guys…”

Number one’s smile was thin. “Hm…alright. I think that’s enough pleasantries. I think it’s time you told me what you know of the SAGAU phenomenon.”

“I..what do you want me to say exactly?” Eldy said with an impatient tone. “All I know is that, back in my old world, SAGAU was nothing more than cheap isekai fanfics and cult aus. Even now, I’m still adjusting to the revelation that it was all real. I haven’t even researched whatever you were talking about-”

CRASH

Number One’s teacup fell to the floor. He was grinning, but there was no mirth in it. His voice sounded like the last strings of patience were snapping.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he said through gritted teeth. “That during these last several months, you’ve been doing nothing besides pretend to be a god, go on dates with Rex Lapis, and live as some kind of glorified pet!?”

“I-I…!” Eldy shrank into themselves like a turtle. The crystalflies sensed their owner’s anxiousness and flew out of the window. “Not…no…!”

“I grow desperate. Please tell me you know something useful. Innocent people are dying in other worlds while you are living a cushy life!” Number One said passionately. His bangs began to float to reveal yellow eyes with multiple red rings inside them.

Eldy said nothing. Instead they silently stared in awe.

////

Mercy was about to open the door when they felt the air begin to charge with energy. Behind them, they heard hurried footsteps. Several pairs of footsteps in fact. Without missing a beat, they immediately changed their form. They shrank until they were about two heads smaller than their original size.

Aw shit. They internally cringed when a hooded figure wreathed in an amber aura appeared followed by several more acolytes; his tail undulated captivatingly. Why him?

Zhongli aka Rex Lapis aka Morax strode up to them. Despite their being several crystalflies perched on his horns, it didn’t reduce the slightly oppressive presence around him. The old god stared at them in half curiosity and confusion. “Barbatos. Move aside.”

“Barbatos” opened his mouth. “Ehhh why the rush? I just finished paying a quick visit to our Emperor. Surely I didn’t intrude on anything important, it’s just breakfast after all!”

“None, but we have reason to suspect the Creator is in danger.”

“For real? Well in that case, allow me to check on them!” “Barbatos” opened the door just enough to slip through it. He gave a mischievous smile to the others before they could realize what happened. “I’ll be quick!”

SLAM

Mercy shifted back into their own form. “Number One we need to leave. Now-wait, what the hell?”

The gentleman was in front of the creator and floating above them; he was pointing at their skull-head. A chain connected his index finger with their head. Neither said anything to each other. They were just looking into each other’s eyes. It was almost creepy to look at. But Mercy shook their head; they were out of time.

“Number One!” they yelled with as much urgency they could muster. That did it. The chain abruptly snapped and retracted back into Number One’s index finger. Eldy landed on their knees.

He stared at them with a spooked look (huh, what cool eyes he has). “Mercy?”

“Morax is here-” they began.

Before they could explain further, the door behind them was blown off its hinges with a burst of Geo energy. The shapeshifter crashed into the gentleman and both were sent flying out and off the third floor.

/////////

A/N: Shenhe’s appearance description from wiki & Outfit

I like cliffhangers, especially the kind when they make one ask, “Oh no, they’re probably gonna get it in the next chapter!”. It makes one wonder just what sort of thing they’ll do to get out of it.

In hindsight, Number One had this preconceived image of Eldy. One could say his entire plan hinged on whether or not they knew of the SAGAU phenomenon. So what does he do when he doesn’t find what he needs? He dislikes going back empty-handed so he’ll find something else to get some usefulness out of. I’ll discuss & explore this more in the next chapter, but before I do I’d like to state that Number One cares an awful lot about others (This'll make sense later).

In fact, we’ll get to see more of that side next chapter.

Speaking of the next chapter, it’s gonna take four more days to write fyi. The reasons for this is that 1) I’m burnt out atm and need to recharge somewhat, and 2) I need to go over my research on how to write action sequences. I want this ending to have a solid enough impact and some research would greatly help.

Finally, those Crystalflies are the mvp!

Questions, comments, and critiques are welcome!

Taglist: @idkfitememate

#sagau #no beta we die like men #sagau fanfic #writer stuff #writers on tumblr #.mine #my ocs

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myckicade · 2 years

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As I previously stated, I loved 01x05. It was fantastic. It was real. It brought my emotions to the forefront, and I don't get to experience that with much of anything, these days. But, this little misfit family... I feel for all three of these characters, in my own way. (They're fictional, so, yes, I can do that, thanks). Possibly because I have been in each of their positions, in one form or another, throughout my life.

I'm going to get mighty personal with this one, so be warned.

01x05 hit home for me, in a big way. This is a legitimate breakdown of a forced family unit, and that's something I personally feel for. Children have been the Bad Marriage Band-Aid for generations, and I am grateful to the writers for acknowledging it. (Some of us get a little tired of seeing cookie-cutter families, when ours look more like the aftermath of an oven fire, y'know what I mean?). We're getting to see it from all three sides, too, which I find absolutely refreshing. One parent thinks the child will settle the relationship. The other goes along with it, and ends up so blinded by jealousy, there is no middle ground left.

Claudia, though. This girl... She has my heart. Claudia is not to blame for what she was brought into, the absolutely fucked-up relationship that her guardians share. Is she a little shit? Yes. Is she hard-headed? Yes. Unstable, in terms of coming into her own? Yes. But, she is not the cause of her parents' issues. That's a hard thing to overcome as a child brought up under such circumstances, especially when the household arguments are about you. Because, sure, they may be about you, but you did not cause them. Claudia isn't the origin of Louis and Lestat's tensions. She is the excuse to pick a semi-fresh fight. She is the mirror held up in front of the two of them to show them that, "Hey, this isn't right." The product of their unstable union. The best and worst of one another in one person. (Speaking of her vampiric years, not her humanity). That isn't to say that there isn't genuine concern for her, particularly on the part of Louis. Claudia just got caught up in a toxic situation, and it's no wonder she took the hell off. I'm not surprised which parent's side she took, either. (Then again, are any of us?).

Louis and Lestat are... Well, I feel less for the two of them. Some years ago, I was in a relationship with similar features, so I think what I am experiencing is that mirror (minus the children). I will first say that nothing - nothing - excuses abuse. I've seen it. I've experienced it. Hell, I'm guilty of it. I also acknowledge that abuse takes many forms. I see it in Lestat's constant manipulations. I see it in Louis' repeated threats to leave. Louis withholding intimacies (not just sexual). Lestat playing his little one-sided What's Good for the Goose game, in terms of monogamy. They both know what they are doing to one another, they know the reactions they will trigger, yet they keep doing it. It's an ugly, ugly cycle, and it won't end until one of them cuts the damned cord. Breaks the chain. (I don't exactly advocate that they do so through violence, but). Walking away isn't easy, fuck knows it isn't. There's truth to the notion that things need to hit rock bottom before they can get better.

No one is asking to be abused. That isn't what I'm getting at. My point is that these two are so completely caught up in trying to hurt one another, blame one another, and sabotage the other from the inside out, they ignore what it is doing to their charge. They know she can hear them fighting, and they carry on. Falling victim to The Pattern is part of the cycle, and it is likely to be passed on to Claudia. This whole situation is toxic. This is abuse. This is co-dependent. Everybody sucks, here. (Sorry, I had to). And, by golly, I will be here for it until the bitter end.

Y'know. God-willing.

P.S. I'll happily clarify anything that sounds shitty, if need be. I'm rattling this off at work, between what I should be doing, so. Y'know.

#I have some feelings I know #But still #Interview with the Vampire #IwtV #Spoilers #Interview with the Vampire Spoilers #IwtV Spoilers #IwtV TV #IwtV TV Spoilers #Loustat #IwtV AMC #IwtV AMC Spoilers #Mycki Rambles #Mycki Gets Personal

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rocknrollsalad · 5 months

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Steddieholidaydrabbles: Day Six - Cooking Together AND Steddimas - baking and cookie decorating

🍪 Scott Clarke is not a baker. A fact he's learned the hard way. Though it's HOURS too late, he enlists the help of Steve and Eddie because what's Christmas without a gingerbread house, right?

🥼 content/trigger warnings: food

🧑‍🍳 word count: 1457

Eddie wasn’t the go-to guy for help. No one he knew looked at their address book and said “Yeah, Eddie Munson is the number I’m gonna dial”. It should have been! He was always helpful and knew how to do plenty. Something he proved time and time again when he was the last resort. Not the “I’m going to call Eddie for help” but the “well, Eddie is here so I might as well ask him too” sort of thing.

A fact he’d grown used to. At least until he found himself partnered up with Steve Solves-Everyone’s-Problems Harrington. People called him for everything. Major problems, minor problems, someone else’s problems, those in Steve’s life didn’t need an address book; they had his number memorized.

Dating Steve did change the number of phone calls Eddie received, the calls were still for Steve but now the Munson household was the first stop in getting ahold of Hawkins's own wonderboy. Eddie would hate it so much more if Steve didn’t like up like Times Square every time he was needed.

Then Steve went and made it worse by saying it was the only thing he had to offer. He wasn’t ever going to be able to help with homework or remember the weird names of all those elves but he could drive them places and sit with them when they were scared. He could fix a car, change a hard to reach light, or pick a few things up from the store.

As painful as it was that Steve thought those were his only skills, it actually had Eddie pushing their mutual friends at Steve more. Make the boy feel important please, no one has needed him in days. Eddie also stayed out of the way. He didn’t tag along or offer his two cents.

Eddie wasn’t sure of his place in this group yet but “the helping hand” was already taken. They had their Swiss Army friend, ready to fix anything that was broken. A talent that crossed friendship lines when Scott Clarke called in a panic, opening with a desperate cry for help. Eddie did what he always did and passed the phone off to Steve.

Like so many other “emergencies”, this one wasn’t life or death. Scott wasn’t part of the crew who’d literally stared down death or saw the pits of hell, he was allowed to be dramatic about it, but a…cookie emergency seemed like a problem the Care Bears should solve. “Oh no, we’ve put too much sugar in the cookies and ruined the bear's birthdays, golly gee, what are we going to do?”

Bake some new cookies. Buy some from the store. There were so many answers that weren’t "enlist Steve and Eddie like it was some sort of national crisis".

Of course, Steve wasn’t in agreement and spent the whole time Eddie looked for clothes to change into pacing the doorway, desperate to get out there and help someone who needed it. Which didn’t speed Eddie up any.

Steve felt weird going over to Scott’s alone. The amount of times he repeated “he was our teacher” almost went past annoying and into endearing. Scott wasn’t their teacher now, he was some lame-ass guy trying to impress Wayne with baked goods. A dumb waste of time because why would Wayne be impressed by anyone’s baking ability? He once ate an entire birthday cake Eddie burnt that one year. Without a single complaint.

However, an emergency might have been an understatement.

Scott ushered them into a gingerbread warzone. Complete with broken men and women lining the battlefield. Some house pieces were both solid and liquid, others were charred to a crisp, nothing made sense and every surface was covered with something.

Both Eddie and Steve stood on the only clean kitchen tiles with their jaws on the floor. Scott had clearly given up on aprons, there were a few among the mess, and his 1979 science fair tee was unreadable in spots. Flour handprints were all over his pants, along with crusted gingerbread batter, and Eddie didn’t know whether to laugh or get the man a drink.

“It’s just science, right? It’s a chemical reaction. You measure carefully, pay attention to what you’re putting in, and add heat. I think actual rocket science would be easier.” Shoving his hands through his hair, a path they’d clearly taken a few times, Scott tried to find something close to composure.

He wasn’t upset he couldn’t impress Wayne, he was bothered he got the formula wrong. This was the scientific process letting him down and it’d driven him to madness. Eddie wondered how many failed attempts there were hidden in here and what on Earth made him call for their help.

“No. Well yes, but it’s more than that,” Steve said with a soft confidence Eddie had never heard from him.

The tone slowed Scott too, he was willing to entertain whatever Steve had to say.

“You guys aren’t going to like the rest of it. Just let me try it out, it’ll be fine.”

Eddie muttered a quiet “What” and looked at Steve. Getting a “don’t ask” stare that ensured Eddie would absolutely ask. He’d be patient enough to get Scott out of the room but that was about it.

He thought getting Scott out of the room would be harder but he heard Steve offer to try, threw his hands up, and said, “I’m going to take a shower, kitchen is yours.”

For a full minute, Steve and Eddie stood in silence. Listening to Scott move through his house, still throwing a mild temper tantrum as he did. Eddie could only imagine the amount of exasperated scientist mumbling that was going on.

Once they felt they were in the clear, they let out a joint sigh and Eddie said. “Ho-ho-holy shit I thought he was going to stand over our shoulder and, like, grade you as you cooked or something.”

“Given the bar he set, it wouldn’t be hard to get a passing grade.”

That wasn’t kind and Eddie laughed for that reason. Mixed a bit with how truthful it was. They were staring down a ton of wonderful-smelling carnage. Much like the gingerbread people in the sink, Scott didn’t have a leg to stand on.

“Plus, who said I’m doing all the work?” Steve asked.

“Oh, me. I said you were because you’re the one with cryptic answers about what it takes to make a good cookie.”

“It’s not cryptic, I just didn’t want to listen to you and Scott mock me for the rest of time,”

The comment was followed by Steve’s trademark huffy little pout that Eddie loved. Arms crossed, he defended himself and braced for impact. Though his walls were made of cotton candy and the castle was guarded by two cardboard cutouts. Steve was horrible at this stuff.

And Eddie was persistent. He pressed into Steve’s space, enough to cause him to lose balance a little. Finding a stronger stance, Steve looked anywhere but at Eddie. Still, Eddie could see the smile. He’d made a few missteps on when to press for Steve to say things he was holding in but the lights were all green here.

Doing his best to look cute and innocent, something Eddie had likely never been, he lowered himself enough to have to look up at Steve. “We’d never mock you, for anything,” Eddie said.

“Yeah, well I’m still not telling you,” Steve raised his nose in the air, looking away.

As much as Eddie knew saying “I love you” for the first time was supposed to be some big memorable moment, it was little ones like these that always threatened to steal that from him. Standing in a mess that was likely making Steve’s skin crawl, creating something to bicker about, and playing their parts so perfectly comical. That’s so much better than some fancy dinner they’d never have or a beach vacation they’d not go on.

“Fine, I’m going to go add some more burnt cookies to the pile. Since I don’t know the secret to it,” Eddie mocked as he pulled away and went deeper into the kitchen.

Steve was so hot on his heels they almost collided. “Look, I know you can’t exactly do worse but lemme do this okay? I got it.”

“I do really like the challenge of doing worse.”

“Yeah, I regretted that as soon as I said it. You absolutely could do worse.”

“Thank you. That’s so sweet of you to say,” Eddie cooed.

“Who knew Scott was this bad though,” Steve said with a judgemental stare around the room.

“Wanna know something? A real secret?”

Eddie leaned in close and whispered through a giggle, “Wayne hates gingerbread.”

#so i realzied after editing this and pasting it in here #it isn't ACTUALLY the prompts????#it's the lead up #the set up #the baking together and cookie decorating happen off camera #or in part two #which is dumb of me #but i already wrote this #and the day is nearly done #whoops #hey everyone come see what i wrote now #challenge: steddimas #challenge: steddie holiday drabbles #clarkson

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msfcatlover · 1 year

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NTT bugs me a LOT so PLEASE tell me about Dick and Jason bonding bc we were robbed

OKAY, SO! This got super long. I’d apologize, but I have so many feelings, and “sorry” is not one of them.

. First of all: after they defeat Trigon, I have no idea why we get scenes of most of the team having these soothing recovery-bonding moments with their families but for some reason Dick doesn’t get that??? When his “worst fear” as shown by Trigon was very specifically that Jason’s Robin training under just Bruce wouldn’t be enough, the scene Dick sees being Bruce dead & Jason brokenly sobbing that he tried his best, with the “worst self” counterpart to Dick telling Dick this was his fault for not being there for them. Dick’s worst fear is literally shown to be losing his family due to not reaching out to them and we don’t even get to see him, I don’t know, driving up to the manor or knocking on the door? You’re telling me that after a vision like that Dick Grayson wouldn’t want to visually confirm Bruce & Jason are okay? We don’t even get to see him call??? Golly gosh, did we just run out of page space & stiff the leader of our ensemble of his emotional payoff???????

This is the perfect moment for Dick to take a more active role as Jason’s big brother (we could’ve had Titans missions with Robin!Jay & Nightwing, goddammit, Jason could’ve complained about being cold to Dick’s face! That joke is x10 funnier if Dick’s standing there, now in pants, defending his original Robin design.) Dick now has experience training younger heroes, he has more patience & a longer fuse than he had as Robin, he is ready to be a mentor figure for his little brother.

In my head, there is a whole arc where Dick goes flying home on his motorcycle, too emotional to even think of going for the phone (between the vision he had & Raven seemingly dying, you really can’t blame him,) because he just needs to know, he needs to personally confirm that they are okay. He’s jumping off the bike before it fully stops moving, letting it skid down the gravel driveway (the paint job will be ruined, he will bemoan this choice later, but in the moment safety doesn’t matter so why would a few scratches?) Dick hammers on the door until Alfred opens it, and yanks Alfred into a hug before he can get two words out; Dick lets go almost as quickly, because Alfred isn’t who he came to see.

(Dick goes to the manor, not the Batcave, because the Batcave isn’t home.)

I can’t decide if Dick sees Bruce or Jason first; it really come down to whether I want to imagine Dick picking Jason up like a piece of luggage and dragging Jason into Dick’s hug for Bruce, because once Dick sees Jason, he is not going to be letting go. Bruce realizes something must be wrong even before Dick tells him about Raven (though he’d certainly never deny Dick a hug, when Dick all but jumps into Bruce’s arms like he’s 9 again.) Jason is so fucking lost right now; at this point all his interactions with Dick have been short & curt, and included Dick outright denying Jason had any right to be Robin (hey, if DC can mix continuities then so can I! And the pre-Crisis moment when Jason asked for Dick’s blessing now that Dick was Nightwing, and Dick snapped at him about Robin still being Dick’s identity even when he wasn’t using it is so good for its angst potential, I’m taking it.) Poor Jason was under the impression Dick sorta-kinda hated him, that he was a nuisance at best, and now Dick is running down the hall with a shout of Jason’s name just to pull Jason into a hug so tight it’s actually hard to breathe, so like??? What is going on???

Dick tells them about losing Raven (maybe he mentions having to “fight our fears,” but he definitely doesn’t tell either of them about the fear-vision,) says something about being worried and this putting things in perspective. Then Dick takes a deep breath and steps back, looks Jason in the eye, and tells Jason that Dick will be helping with his Robin training from now on. (“Don’t look so excited. You’re going to hate me by the time we’re done.”)

AND THEN! Then we get Dick training Jason, and patrolling with Jason, and bowing out of certain social events because he promised this portion of his time to Jason already and he’s not going to break that promise. We get some mission running long, and Dick rushing home after dark to find Jason still waiting, because he didn’t want to believe Dick would just ditch him like that (Jason may or may not have gotten into a fight with Bruce about whether Jason needed to lower his expectations since Dick was still figuring this whole “adult” thing out, and also that Dick’s never been good with appointments because ADHD-induced timeblind!Dick, my beloved.) We get Dick helping Jason perfect certain moves, and Jason spinning around with a big grin like, “Did you see? Did you see me do it?” while Dick smiles proudly at him and tells Jay how awesome it was. We get mid-patrol snack-breaks, which they’re fully allowed, but still sneak in because it’s just more fun that way. We get late-night conversations over ice cream, and getting to fight as a team, and just, AH!!! We were robbed! They should’ve been bonding, it would’ve been so cute & wholesome, and just compounded the tragedy of Jason’s death.

We could’ve had Nightwing!Dick & Robin!Jay on the Titans at the same time. We could’ve seen all Dick’s friends’ reactions to his new little brother, rather than just another kid in the Robin suit while Dick was out of town. Maybe Donna wouldn’t have fucking projected so hard, she called Jason by Dick’s name the one time they worked together. Maybe Jason could’ve been a valued member of the team in his own right, like he deserved.

The other major event that makes me desperately fantasize about them getting to bond is… Listen. Fuck the mid-Crisis Starfire wedding arc. I do not have words for how much I hate the Starfire wedding arc and how everyone treats Dick like trash during it. It pissed me off so much, I had to put the whole damn series down and cleanse my palette with something else for a few months. Do not get me started, because I have already gone on 2 separate hour-long rants, and nobody wants to see me frothing at the mouth over this one stupid fucking arc that I hate so much, it killed my love for RobStar, a ship I have been sailing since before I knew what shipping was.

ANYWAY.

Dick fucking deserved better, so Imma give it to him. Fine, let all that happen, up to & including Bruce saying, “Oh, I almost forgot! Happy birthday!” while driving away, ignoring how obviously distraught Dick was. Something-something-crime fighting, Bruce is allowed to fuck up, failure to appropriately express his emotions (often at the worst possible times) is one of his most consistent character traits. Whatever.

Here’s what I want: Jason beats Donna to Dick’s apartment. How? No fucking clue, he called in a favor or something. So instead of Dick opening the door to Donna’s accusations when he’s already belligerently drunk, he opens it to an awkward baby brother while he’s still tipsy. Jason wants to apologize for Bruce being an asshole—not in the “I’ll take responsibility” way, or the “I’m carrying a message” way, but in the “It was shitty of him to treat you like that, and I’m sorry you had to deal with it” way—and wanted to bring Dick his birthday presents before they’re even later than they already were. Because they’re brothers, and Jason knows how even the smallest gesture of recognition can matter. So here Jason is, with an obviously hand-wrapped parcel and a homemade cake that’s more than a little lopsided (and probably a few days old, because the mission wasn’t supposed to keep Dick away that long, and I think Jason would’ve wanted it fresh from the oven when Dick got home,) but it’s decorated after the Nightwing suit with a big red R on the top, and it’s the nicest thing anyone’s done for Dick in weeks. The nicest thing anyone’s done since Dick left Earth. The only sign his birthday wasn’t entirely forgotten by everyone in his life, and the only person who seems like they were looking forward to seeing him again after the mess that was Tamaran. So, y’know, maybe he freezes in the doorway and tears up a little; blame it on the alcohol.

The banter is tense at first. Jason’s obviously a little disturbed to find Dick drowning his sorrows, and Dick quickly hides the bottle while apologizing for it (“You weren’t s’posed to see me like this. I never wanted any of you to see me like this.”) Neither of them wants to acknowledge just how upset Dick is right now. There’s probably jokes about Jason using Dick as a guinea pig for his culinary experiments, and how maybe they shouldn’t light the candles in case Dick’s whiskey breath starts a fire. They talk about light, shallow things, like which rogues escaped while Dick was away (never mind the Crisis,) and whether Jason finally managed to master that one flip he was working on. After, Jason catches Dick staring wistfully at a picture of Kori on the wall and blurts out, “Hey, you wanna get out of here?”

They go see a movie at a late-night theatre, and mock how unrealistic the fight choreography was.

(Maybe they run into Donna at some point, but the fight doesn’t escalate because they’re in public & Dick’s basically sobered up by that point. Maybe Donna bangs on Dick’s door until it comes off its hinges, and finds an apartment empty except for the remains of two servings of chocolate cake and a ball of wrapping paper that missed the trashcan when someone tried to throw it. In any case, Dick & Donna don’t drag all their worst grievances with eachother out as weapons in a moment of shared pain, and Dick doesn’t go after Brother Blood’s cult alone.)

(Maybe Jason defends Dick’s honor, and says everything to Donna that I wanted to say while she was telling Dick it was all his fault Kori didn’t come back with him.)

(Maybe they go back to Dick’s apartment, and he’s finally tired enough to ignore all the lingering signs of Kori and just go to sleep. Maybe Dick insists on making sure Jason makes it back to Gotham safely, and then stays because it’s almost dawn by that point anyway. Either way, they fall asleep in a pile and Jason probably misses school the next day; he reserves the right to be a grouch about it.)

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dustcloak · 4 years

Text

A Huntress, of Sorts

The cart-wheels creaked to a halt, the chocobos at its head coming to rest nervously. The road was little traveled, but since traffic on the main causeways was filling up with Ala Mhigans returning home, there were some adventurous merchants and ‘entrepreneurs’ who thought they might save some hassle and time by taking the old backwoods paths. The Hellsguard sitting above the birds narrowed his eyes, adjusted his dusty, cracked glasses, and tried to make out the time-faded lettering on his map. He jerks as his only passenger stirs behind him, knocking loudly against wood. He looks backwards as her voice cuts through the forest’s calm din.

“Lost, or just need some fresh eyes to read your cheap map?” Her voice is gravely, slow, and just slightly slurred.

“I’m not lost, Madame Du Fortemps.” His voice is like a mountain’s wind, deep and powerful, yet still quiet, breathy. He and the Elezen woman glare at one another through the canvas tarp, and share a brief chuckle. “Still can’t believe that one worked, craziest stunt we’ve pulled off yet.” He scratches at his squared, red beard, arcing his trimmed brows as his eyes focus on the memory he has set in his mind.

“Honest, had no idea you had the chops to pull of something that out there. You ever even met an Ishgardian? Let alone a noble, just one of them traveling commonfolk?” He adjusts his posture and moves to the side, grunting as the lithe, tall woman spills out from the back and orients herself at the front of the carriage.

With one hand, she snatches the glasses off the larger man’s head, and then with the other takes the old map. She has to sweep curtains of long, ice-blue hair from her face, and detangle it from the gnarled wood of the wagon. She bites her thumb as she thinks.

“I’ve improvised stranger roles,” She admits, mumbling unintelligibly as she turns the paper over in her hands, straining her eyes until her brow creases “Honestly, what I wasn’t expecting was the reaction. Mor Dhonan’s must be naive as the seven hells, going so far below the standard fair and selling price on the goods.”

They sit in silence a moment, leaning closer to one another and both glaring down at the faded paper. Her face the picture of angular, tense focus, and his the image of a man too tired to think that hard.

“Why in Nald’s good name did you insist we use this old rag? Are we here…?” She points at a faded splotch on the border between the Black Shroud and Ala Mhigo’s mountains. She peers away from the map, catching sight of the glint of dawn, but no mountains through the canopy.

“No, no, I’ve come this way before when I used to run with Tornstar’s bunch. Got some good paths through the mountains what avoid the customs at the fort.” He sighs, then runs his hand through his hair, and then again through his beard as he counts with his free hand. “First, ye go through the old poacher’s base, through the old cave they mined out and that dingy Gelmorran lowroad, third ye keep your eyes out for the spire of the Church of the Twelve and then head West a day or two on them old backroads.” He points at a clearly marked X, boldly inked in stark black against the muted browns of the ancient parchment. “We stayed at the poacher’s rest there, and then we started going north as we’re s’posed to. Should’ve been that we saw the river by now, it runs through-” Both he and his companion drop their hands to their waists as a voice interrupts.

“The river out of the Virdjala or out of the Northern Striped Hills?” It’s smooth, like cool water slowly sloshing through your fingers.

They search for the voice, only to have to sit up, lean forward, and look just past their chocobos at a Lalafellin woman dressed in deep-blue travel wear. Along her coat, several bandoliers and belts lay full and dutifully strapped shut. Her sunlit, sandy hair cascades loosely across her shoulders and down to the back of her knees in tangled curls. Her eyes, peering out from between stray locks, are reflective pools of emerald. She’s covered, from metal sabatons to leather shoulders of her coat, in an uneven smattering of wine-red gore.

The two look between one another, before the huge man shrugs. He looks back at the sudden stranger, the long, sackcloth-wrapped pole she’s strapped to her back, the glint of armor beneath the cloth. His eyes though, they’re focused on how she’s standing. The quiet confidence there in her posture speaks louder than any of her road and battle worn gear.

“The one what comes down from the Northern Striped Hills.” He answers tentatively, remaining seated, one hand still on the gun in it’s holster on the back of his hip.

“You missed your turn. The stream which was fed by that river got blocked off during the liberation. That stream is dry now.” The Elezen’s eyes searched for weapons, but all she could easily spot was the covered rod on the little woman’s back. A staff? Maybe, but it’s nearly twice the Lala’s height, there would be no reason to wield a catalyst that large. A spear? Too long for her to take advantage of without mounting something. A sword, then. Maybe the sheath was lost in a scrap, but she still needed to be a little discreet. Still, if it was a sword, it wasn’t suited to her. Even Lominsan marauders her size just wielded weapons made for her folk. Wasn’t like the size of the weapon is what mattered.

“You from here?” The woman on the cart says. She gets her answer, a simple and curt shake of a head.

“I’m Muddy Pond.” The man says suddenly, stepping down from the wagon. He shoots a quick glance up at his partner, shares a conspiratorial wink, and then continues. “That up there is Elaine. We seem to be lost. You’re not from here, but do you know the area?” He gets a silent nod.

“Wonderful, could we impose on you a bit? We need to get to the town of Ala Ghana, we have perishable goods aboard.” He slaps the side of the wagon, then moves closer to her with slow steps.

She doesn’t respond, just looks up at him with an odd, distant expression. He stops about five yalms away, just out of reach if she were to turn that curtain-covered rod against him.

“Time is of the essence,” He drops to one knee, trying to even the massive disparity in height. “We’re carrying medicine for the wounded being cared for there,” He lets his voice soften, years of practice and no small measure of skill taking over as he lets his instincts guide him. “Elaine is an apothecary who’s agreed to assist the Resistance for a time. With tensions rising on the border, we need every hand on deck.” His voice is nearly a whisper as he continues, since Elaine up above doesn’t need to hear this part to play along.

“Even yours could make a difference,” He holds his hand out towards her, palm upwards. He could swear that for just a moment, her expression shifted. But then, she just walks past his open hand and towards the cart. He tenses as she passes him.

“You may call me Vara. I’ll get you where you need to go.” As her back is turned, he pushes himself to his feet and turns to Elaine. Her face is a perfect mask, gratitude written all over it. In one glance from her though, he gets a shiver up his spine. Calling her an apothecary may be stretching what his partner can accomplish. He gives her an apologetic, cheeky grin while their new company can’t see. He’ll have to get her a drink once the two of them are through with this risky encounter.

“So, Miss Vara.” He says, bounding quickly to his old seat before offering her a hand up, “What do you do? I can’t help but notice you’ve gotten yourself a bit uh, messy.”

“I’m a huntress.” She ignores the offered hand, taking the nearly six feet up to the jockey box in a single, floaty jump. She lands with surprising grace, and then shifts the load on her back so she holds it in one hand off the side of the wagon.

From the cagey reply, lack of eye-contact, and then expectant silence, Muddy breathes deep and takes the hint. He turns the carriage around, and then spurs the chocobos on with a quick whistle.

Elaine lets out a huff of air, blowing a greasy strand of hair from her face. Muddy Pond was snoring louder than an earthquake in the back. It was overselling it a bit, if you’d ask her, but he wanted to make sure their ‘guide’ didn’t open the wrong boxes. Speaking of, the woman who’d introduced herself as Vara had spent the vast majority of the time on the road quietly using a rag and solvent to clear the worst of the gore off of her clothes and hair. She refused to answer questions in more than one or two words, even when giving navigational directions. Still, Elaine could now see the mountains which split the Shroud and Gyr Abania. Once they were in the mountains, they were in the clear.

Only thing was, there was now the question as to how they were going to ditch the huntress they’d tangled up in this. Best case scenario, she just agrees to leave once they reach the mountain pass Muddy knows. Worst case, she insists on sticking around and Elaine has to knock the gloomy bitch out. She doesn’t like the sound of that. Muddy and Elaine had gotten by as long as they had by knowing when to pick their fights. Given the condition in which they found her, whoever this ‘huntress’ was, it wasn’t someone Elaine wanted to dance with. So, for the moment, her plan is just to cast a simple sleep spell, spur the birds forward real hard, and hope she gives up when she wakes.

Did she seem the vengeful type? Elaine risked another curious glance, but same as the last few, all she can see is that blank, distant expression. It was unnerving. Lalafells were always such vibrant folk, even when they were cruel and fucked they were fucked in a loud and colorful way. But Vara? If it weren’t for the occasional deep breath or sudden shift in her seat, Elaine’d never have guessed she was even awake.

Then there were the scars. Hidden by the near-complete coverage afforded by her travel-wear, Elaine could only see the faded scars on her face, and a particularly nasty, pale gash across her neck. From the width and color of that scar, it was recent, and it should have been fatal.

Must have a friend who’s good with healing magic, Elaine reasons.

But even with all of that observation done and behind her, the Elezen still can’t fully put her finger on an odd sense of familiarity she has when looking at the huntress. All cleaned up now, and slowly braiding her messy hair, she looked like something out of a campfire tale. The armor was worn down, sure, but it was obviously hand-crafted. Even a common swindler could tell as much. The thick, heavy cloth covering whatever she’d been carrying was a quilt of patterns from all manner of styles and cultures. The pouches on her bandoliers and belts carried odd herbs, softly glittering and glowing tonics, all manner of small components both herbal and mineral. A huntress, she’d called herself. Idly, Elaine stopped wondering about the truth of that statement, and started thinking on what kind of huntress would need to prepare so many resources before setting after her prey.

“Smoke.” The cold voice of the Lala jerks Elaine from her thoughts, and stutters Muddy’s snores. Her emerald eyes glance to Elaine as she too begins to catch the distant scent.

“I will return.” She says quickly, leaping from the jockey box down to the ground. She shoulders her bundled rod, and then looks back. With a moment of hesitation, she pulls her jaw tight and narrows her eyes some.

“Do not wait for me. You are on the correct path. Go and clear your debts.” Without another second’s delay, she bolts off deeper into the woods away from the beaten path. The smell of smoke grows stronger, and the air vibrates as something roars. Deep and gargling, it rumbles through the branches. At first, Elaine can’t believe their luck. She whistles loud and clear, and the birds race forward. Then, she hears the roar again, and the rattle of metal and gears. Machina? Here?

Not her fucking problem. Let the little ‘huntress’ go get herself killed, all the better that no one knows they passed through here.

“What was all that ‘bout?” Muddy pokes his head through the tarp, squinting in the evening light.

“Ah, our guide just split, didn’t quite catch everything she said. Fuck if I know, or care. Better she’s out of our hair now, than before we have to ice her for knowing too much. Ain’t no one can know we’re running somnus or that’s our exit strategy fucked and done with, regardless of what we owe or don’t owe.” She snaps, the day’s tension ripping out of her throat as the cart’s wheels carreen down the dusty road.

“I mean SERIOUSLY! How the fuck did you think that was a good plan?!” She hisses through her teeth, head whipping back and forth between the road and her partner in crime. “Apothecary? Apothecary?!” She gestures at her dust and mud-stained leathers with one hand while the other holds the reins.

“Do I look like a fucking doctor right now?! Fuck! At least make something reasonable up, damnit!”

“The hell do you know?” He growls, setting his back against hers through the thin wood separating the cart interior and the jockey cab. “You see the way she was standing? She was sizin us up the moment her eyes dropped onto us. We’re lucky I pulled on her heartstrings to make sure she didn’t do to use what she did to whatever was painting her twelvesdamned coat.”

“Oh, were you scared of a 2’8 doll with a goddamned quilt and curtain rod?” She jeers, but when she doesn’t get an immediate response, she pauses. Her snarky smile fades, and she glances back for just a second. His face is all stone and shadow.

“Wait, you had a fucking gun. If you were scared, why didn’t you just shoot her?”

“I don’t think it would have mattered.” He says, voice solemn. “You ever see a dragon, El? One of the big ones, with the wings n’ all. Not the little shit-drakes the Amaljaa have.”

“What? Fuck no. We went over this earlier, right? Ain’t neither of us been to Ishgard, let alone Dravania.” She looks out and around as they clear the treeline of the Shroud, the forest beginning to give way to underbrush and stone. Ahead, the mountains loomed dark in the evening sky.

“They don’t do much when they see you. They just wait, see-” He begins, voice low.

“Oh come off it, I don’t have the patience for your barside fairy-tales right now.” She says, eyes tracing the dimming horizon above her. They’d have to slow down near the mountains. Should be fine.

“Not a fairy-tale. But fine. She’s gone regardless. Let’s just get to the first town we can. Sooner we get to Ala Ghana, sooner we clear our debts.”

Clear your debts. The smooth, cold voice echoes in her ears a moment. Elaine’s gut drops, an uncertain and cold feeling settling deep in her ribs.

“Muds?” She asks, voice suddenly much smaller, if still hoarse from shouting. “We’re gonna be alright, yeah?”

“I think we are. Just get us to the Hills and we’ll make camp. Need me to take the reins for a bit?” She feels his hand rest on her shoulder, heavy and reassuring. Tension washes out of her jaw and shoulders.

“No, no. You get some actual fuckin rest. You’re gonna have to take a watch tonight, so you gotta be awake for that.” She pauses, “Also, we’re stopping at the Stones to get you a new fucking map.”

“What? Mine is perfectly fine.”

“Bull-fucking-shit.”

#Vavara Ashenheart #Ashenheart Adventure Log #oc:Muddy Pond #oc:Elaine Egout #FFXIV #ffxiv writing #dusty rose's writing #it's been so long since i wrote any kind of prose #i hope it isn't garbage #because good golly it feels hard to pick up again #writing for d&d has changed how i look at my own work #my style has changed so much #used to flow like poetry #now it has this odd narrative voice to it #like someone speaking at a campfire #I think i'm going to do two more of these tomorrow #i really like writing this sibling-esque relationship tho #Muds and El are such sweethearts if you ignore their felonies #same goes for Vara of course but she has a different feel to her

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

a roar of competitive cheers burst from your hospital room, the boys all piled up on your bed playing in a smash tournament on bokuto’s switch. it was rather endearing to watch the good and grown men argue about which princess was a better competitor (rosalina, obviously, despite not being an actual princess) and, in sakusa’s case, pouting like a sore loser when his favorite — daisy — wasn’t even regarded as a real threat.

he absolutely dominated the next round in retaliation, to the group’s chagrin.

you eventually decided to take a break, the stuffiness and loudness of the room getting to you. the boys, while giving you a variety of concerned looks, respected your decision, leaving you to wander out of your space, clad in the semi revealing hospital gown and fuzzy yellow socks.

it was less than convenient to trudge around with your iv attached to your arm but you didn’t mind. the struggle kept your mind off of what you dubbed as The Incident™, weird as it sounded.

for some reason, the smallest things helped keep you occupied, thanks to your vigilance. your call with doctor yamada definitely helped, his sarcastic, biting nature criticizing some random kdrama had you cackling in your seat until your throat was (even more) sore.

at first, you felt a bit awkward calling him when you physically couldn’t speak but he took it in stride, filling up the silence with his commentary that was much, much appreciated.

actually, all the boys had been surprisingly good about your predicament. it took a moment for bokuto and suga to get used to your lack of responses but they eventually grew accustomed to it and even relished your minuscule reactions to one of their jokes or funny quips.

you were actually, finally, enjoying your time with your housemates and it felt good.

well, not all of your housemates. daichi was a given. you’d seen very little of him after the dinner, only laying eyes on him when he visited your hospital bed when he thought you were sleeping. the look of remorse and shame written all over his face was burned into your memory and you made a mental note to find a way to have a conversation with him in an attempt to clear the air.

while daichi’s situation at least made sense, kenma’s did not. you missed him deeply, and you had no idea what to do or say to fix what had been broken. apparently, both kuroo and sakusa had attempted to reach out, but they were quickly shut down. you could tell kuroo was more hurt than he let on, occasionally catching the tail-end of intense conversation between him and omi, but they were both quick to slap on a smile and change the subject as not to worry you when you made your presence known.

you appreciated their concern, you did, but kenma was your friend too and you desperately wanted to know what you could do to help.

a deep sigh left your lips, the action only causing a slight twinge in your throat as you meandered through the cold halls. your brain started to hurt as you thought more and more about it, stress climbing up your spine and burrowing at the base of your skull.

annoying, you thought, your eye twitching in irritation. headaches sucked mad ass and you were not looking forward to the hell of the one that was building up as you walked.

turning down another hallway, you abruptly stopped, your iv screeching to halt interrupting the hushed conversation that a certain someone was having at the far end of the corridor.

kenma!

kenma twisted towards you, his feline eyes widening in surprise as he whispered a hushed goodbye to whoever he was speaking to before shoving his phone into his pocket and staring at you in shock, pain, and most prominently,

guilt.

pure, unadulterated guilt permeated from all over him, the stench coming off of him in waves. you nearly flinched at the sight of him, the deep circles under his eyes practically broadcasting his struggle to the whole world.

your name dropped from his lips in a low whisper, his immediate reaction afterwards leading you to believe he hadn’t meant to say it aloud at all.

you chanced a step forward at his utterance, and then another and another until you were face to face with each other. you felt his eyes searching yours but you made sure to keep your face neutral if not for the blatant worry written all over it.

his plush bottom lip was pulled in between his teeth as his hands twitched by his sides as if he wasn’t exactly sure where to put them. you let out a soft breath at the sight, kind of hoping he would just give you a hug like it looked like he wanted to.

but, kenma held back, waiting for you to do something, to say something (not that you could) to absolve this horribly tense silence that the pair of you were now enshrouded in.

gently peeling your fingers from your iv stand, you lifted them to sign in the small space between your chests, in clear view of his observant gaze.

you recalled with fondness when a handful of the house members had decided to learn a bit of sign language, just in case someone was in a panic attack and became nonverbal. the impromptu learning session had been so much fun that the group had began regularly meeting to expand their sign language vocabulary and fluency until you all were at least semi fluent (in all the ways that mattered at least).

kenma was a member of that group and you’d throughly enjoyed his witty remarks throughout the lesson and his occasional cute little giggles that were liberally interspersed into conversation. that kenma was in such stark contrast to this kenma that it was almost jarring as he watched your hands with rapt attention, awaiting anything you had to say.

i missed you, you began slowly, not missing the way his eyes immediately became glassy and his hands tightened to fists by his sides.

“you shouldn’t,” he replied, his voice deep and gritty. “not after what i did.”

you cocked your head in confusion at his words. what he did? you had no idea what he was talking about but you were determined to get to the bottom of it if that was what was making him avoid you like this.

what did you do?

kenma’s jaw clenched, the guilt that had faded away for a moment, coming back full force. “i... i did this to you...” he motioned to the healing bruises on your neck and the iv stand still by your side.

now you were even more perplexed. he wasn’t the one who cornered you in the bathroom so what could he possibly be going on about? unprompted, your mind flashed back to that night, the moment where you were heading off to the bathroom, meeting kenma’s eyes for a second when you did.

oh.

was that what he was feeling so horribly about? that he saw you go into the bathroom? that was hardly news and nothing to be up in arms about unless he also saw meiko go in after you and...

double oh.

suddenly, all his behavior started making sense. kenma felt guilty because he believed he was somehow responsible for allowing this horrible thing to happen to you.

oh, honey, you signed quickly, driven to get your point across without him interrupting. you didn’t do this to me. meiko did.

kenma opened his mouth to protest but you didn’t let him, one of your hands coming up to cover his lips. he let out a muffled protest, his breath hot against your palm, eyes wide in bewilderment.

“listen to me kenma. you are not at fault here,” your voice screamed at you to stop speaking but not yet, not until you were done. “i know for a fact that if you knew what meiko was going to do, you wouldn’t have let me go.... you are good kenma, so good.”

his whole body shuddered at your words, all but collapsing into you, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly.

if you faintly felt the shoulder of your hospital getting damp, you didn’t say anything, content to let him hold onto you and cry it out.

after a minute or two, he sniffled and pulled away from you, his face red and puffy but content. “you shouldn’t have talked idiot,” kenma chided gently, a soft smile on his face.

you just gave him an apologetic shrug and a hastily signed “sorry” before waving him off to your hospital room, sending him a smile as he meandered off in that direction. you didn’t follow, figuring he and the boys needed some time alone to reconnect without your presence there.

taking a hold of your iv pole again, you continued on your way while staring out the window, watching the tiny birds fly by. unfortunately, your little birdwatching stint sent you careening into a hard body, your feet losing their grip on the slippery ground as you stumbled to the floor.

a quick glance up at the perpetrator had your apology dying in your throat. it was osamu, looking every bit as bewildered as you expected him to, a small jello cup in one hand and a spork in the other.

you couldn’t keep your scowl from off your face as you waved away his helpful arm, completely missing the flash of hurt that appeared across his smooth skin. “please, let me help ya,” he tried again, this time earning a physical slap on the arm, visibly recoiling at the contact.

“leave me the fuck alone osamu,” you growled before picking yourself back up and starting to stroll away but you quickly stopped in your tracks, turning your head to give him a menacing grin. “if you fuck with atsumu again, i swear on bokuto jr, i will castrate you and feed you your sorry, wrinkly ballsack on a silver platter.”

with that you were gone, head held high and a wide grin on your face as osamu watched, his heart flipping annoyingly in endearment. he breathed a deep sigh and slid to the floor of the hall before popping open his jello and taking a bite.

your reaction was well deserved but he couldn’t help praying and hoping that things would change between the two of you.

change for the better. change for good.

℗ poker face

change for the better

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - GOLLY GEE THIS WAS A LONG ONE BHT KENMA!!!!!! and samu >:( anYWAYS SLEEP IS CALLING MY NAME, LEMME KNOW WHAT U THINK <3333 don’t forget to feed me :3 also pls kenma’s secret not so secret praise thing :00

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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kayxleeee · 3 years

Text

Tony Stark: Are We Fighting?(Tony x Reader)

Warning: Sexual implying if you squint. Tony being cute and you being mad at him for a second.

A/N: Y’all this is my favorite, I love Tony fluff.

Summary: Tony’s in deep water after you notice the “head of security” watching your every move for an entire week straight. The only problem is, it’s date night, and can you really stay mad at someone with that face?

Word Count: 2k+

*NOT MY GIF* Don’t copy my work !

The aroma of tomato sauce and Italian herbs wafted the air around you immediately as you swung the large front door open, walking in. Tonight was date night, you were starving, but you had a serious bone to pick with the conniving genius. You kick your heels off and make your way through the foyer greeted by dimmed lights, a candle lit living room, soft romantic music playing, and an excessive amount of rose peddles leading up the grand staircase.

Nice touch Stark.

You look at it all in awe, but try to snap out of it, because you meant business tonight.

“Tony?!” You call out wondering where he was.

“In here.” He says peaking his head through the kitchen entry way, wiping his hands dry on a dish towel. “You look ravishing.” He says as he makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist giving you a quick hug and kiss on your forehead. “This isn’t too much is it?”

This was probably the best one yet. You were delighted at his efforts to make date nights memorable, especially since you hardly saw him. He had either been busy being an avenger or down in his lab working his life away. You were also very busy yourself running Stark Industries. Between the meetings and work related calls, it was a very rare occasion when you and Tony could just enjoy each others company. So this was when weekly date nights were born; Just a time to catch up and be together and have unadulterated quality time. You sigh taking it all in. Tony always does them well, especially when he is trying to make up for something. The dimmed lights, roses, music, candles, even his cologne�� god, did his cologne smell good, intoxicating even. You could swoon right then and there the atmosphere was the definition of romantic and relaxing and here you are ready to uproar it all.

Damn, right.

“Told you date night would be extraordinary tonight.” He smirks taking your silence as a sign that you were pleased, while wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “Be back in a sec, get comfy.” He says giving you a wink before turning away.

He makes his way back into the kitchen to finish up whatever he had been doing previous and you follow him. He turns around and gives you a weird look, scrunching his face as he sees you following behind him. Those dazzling brown eyes weren’t going to get you this time, you were still mad— Maybe not as mad as you were before coming through that front door, but still upset enough to confront the issue right now.

“So something interesting happened to me today.” You say setting your purse on the kitchen counter as Tony strategically plates the pasta he made.

“Oh yeah?” He says maneuvering through the kitchen. “And what might that be kitten?” After he’s done, he turns to you popping an olive into his mouth, as he leans against the counter behind, ready listen attentively.

“Well I was ya know working my little ass off, minding my business… Ya know as I do every single day. When I noticed a very attentive Happy Hogan, watching my every move.” You say eyeing him suspiciously as he smiled innocently. “I thought to myself, now I’ve been seeing Happy in all sorts of wacky places this week, why would he do something like that?”

“I donno, why babe?” He says dusting his hands together for no particular reason looking everywhere else, but your face.

“Mmmh- maybe he’s just being his old paranoid, overbearing self this week. Watching my every move for no apparent reason.” You say testily, you already know Stark put him up to it.

“Happy is very dedicated to his new position. Didn’t you hear? He’s head of security, babe. He’s gotta be eyes and ears.” He sighs, now moving from his leaning position to begin pouring two glasses of bubbly. “That’s our Happy for ya."

Of course you heard, and of course Tony was the one who appointed him, and of course Stark Industries did not need that.

“Oh jeez golly! Eyes and ears on little ol me?” You say in a fake sarcastic souther bell accent.

He raises his eyebrows, and gives you a well justified laugh, because that accent was horrendous.

“Did you send happy to spy on me or what Tony?” You say getting to the point.

“No.” He says shaking his head from side to side frantically like a child who’s just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. “Nope, I don’t recall.”

“You don’t recall?” You scoff. “It’s a very simple thing to remember doing Tony. Did you say oh Happy please spy on my faithful, loyal, beautiful, loving, girlfriend?”

“Um— are we fighting?” We're not fighting are we?” He sighs genuinely unsure.

You didn’t want to fight or argue either, but he was getting on your nerves beating around the bush. You already knew he did it, you just needed to know why.

“Sure, we aren’t fighting Tony.” You say annoyance booming through, hoping he would just come out with it. He was definitely pushing your buttons. “Now did you send him?”

“ I don’t recall.” He says again now putting on a fake ‘thinking’ face.

“You don’t recall asking him?! Okay, well I am sure if we give him a call that might jog your little memory.” You grab your phone out of your purse quickly dialing his number. “Mmmh I think you’ve been hit on the head entirely way too many times, ya know since you can’t recall events.”

Before you can press the dial button to call Happy, Tony swiftly reaches over the counter where you are standing and snatches the phone from your grip, ending the call before it’s made.

“Okay, listen baby, I think we’re fighting, and I don’t want to fight tonight.” He says with pleading eyes putting his hands up in defense.

“Tony!” You yell at him going to where he is standing in the spacious kitchen. “You're not answering my question and you should have thought about that before asking Happy to spy on me!” Which I’m not understanding what for! Just say you don’t trust me and leave it at that, why play all these games?!”

His face flattened.

“Okay, kitten, listen it wasn’t like that. I do too trust you.”

So he did put Happy up to it— of course he did.

“You better explain or I’m Leaving Tony.”

He sighs heavily, shame settling on his features.

“Happy brought up this guy? Aldrich Killian, said you dated him a while back?" “Oh my go- you don’t trust me!” You exhaust throwing your hands up and turning on the heels of your feet ready to retreat out of the kitchen.

“No!” Tony quickly follows behind you. Come on babe, let’s talk about this!” He says grabbing you by your shoulder gently spinning you around.

“Tony you’re doing a lot of the talking, and only digging yourself in a deeper hole.” You say crossing your arms.

“Okay, let’s back track, I trust you, with everything I own, my life even. I’ve just been overwhelmed and overthinking recently. I can’t say what I did was right, but in the moment I didn’t feel it was exactly wrong either.”

“In the moment Tony really? What moment did you realize I needed to be spied on like some convict? What moment did you realize you didn’t trust me alone at work with some guy, I hardly ever dated by the way!”

“Okay, okay! I did not send him to spy on you, I sent him to keep an eye on you.”

“Same shit Sherlock and I don’t appreciate it ! You say you trust me but tis is definitely not how it’s coming off.” You huff in annoyance, trying to grab your phone from him again, in which he manages to keep it away from you snacking his free arm around you. “Give it back now, I’m leaving Tony!”

“Would you stop getting mad?!” He huffs. “Just- it’s not a trust thing baby. It’s a safety thing.”

“I wouldn’t be getting mad if you’d just tell me the truth and stop beating around the damn bush. I’m over it anyways, I’m going to be leaving now, so give me my phone and let me go.” He rolls his eyes and pulls you into him closer. “No you’re not leaving , stop being dramatic.” He says holding onto you tight, still holding the phone away from your grasp with his other hand. You scrunch up your face about to say something, about his remark, but he quickly says. “And don’t be mad that I think you’re being dramatic about this.” He says to ensure he digs himself out of being in trouble over that stupid comment.

He continues, “You already know I trust you so don’t give me that. I did all of this because I love you.” He says holding you close and swaying the two of you slightly to the music that is still playing softly in the background.

“Not the because I love you speech.” You say rolling your eyes, hands resting on his chest trying to create distance between the two of you, but he just pulls you back into him. “You are so annoying.” You comment on the action, surrendering to his grasp.

“No it’s not like that, I just needed to make sure you were safe. No malicious thought behind it or intent, I swear. I just wanted to make name you are safe at all times.” He says softly with a sigh as he feels that you’ve calmed down.

“Why wouldn’t I be safe at work?” You say looking up at him. He now sets your phone down on the near by counter and places the hand to your face, caressing your cheek.

“Anyone can be in danger anywhere honey, I’ve learned that the hard way— and if I were to loose you? Well let’s just say for my sake and peace of mind, I might of let fear cloud my judgment and asked Happy to keep an eye on you. No spying, just an eye. You know how he gets.” He looks deeply into your eyes and you could tell he was telling the truth. “I’m sorry, okay?” He leans into you just enough to rub his nose against yours playfully. “Do you accept my apology?” He says in a child like voice, giving you puppy dogs eyes.

He was so cute.

“Okay fine, I’m hearing you.” You say caving in. “But you’ve gotta stop him from following my every move— if I’m going to the bathroom, I don’t need him right out the door.” You huff.

“Done, you got it, Happy is officially barred off of bathroom duties. Can we kiss and make up now?” He says this as his lips ghost over yours and you happily lean into the kiss, knowing full well it was long overdue after how hard he worked to impress you tonight. This kiss was sweet and sincere, while also deep and romantic.

“I love you.” He says after breaking the kiss.

“You're a pain, but I love you too.” You both laugh before you give him another kiss.

“Now are we still fighting?” He smirks after pulling away a second time. “Just wanna double check before I invest.”

“You're so annoying.” You laugh rolling your eyes playfully. “No we aren’t.”

“Good because our spaghetti is getting cold and our chardonnay is getting flat.” He says intertwining your fingers and spinning you around to walk into the living room. “And you look entirely too good to keep this on all night.” He says referring to your outfit. “I can’t believe you were going to call Happy.”

“Well how about next time, you don’t play with me.” You laugh ready to enjoy your dinner.

“Oh, but honey, playing with you is my favorite thing to do. I especially love it when you scream my name.” He smirks giving you a wink.

Comments, Questions, Opinions :)

See more of what I have written so far: Masterlist

#tony stark x reader #tony stark drabble #tony stark fluff #tony stark #tony stark x black!reader #tony stark x black reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark imagie #tony stark smut #reader x tony #avengers x reader #black reader x avenger #tony stark x you #i love you 3000 #tony stank #mcu fanfiction #marvel #mcu bwww #tony stark imagines

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flowesona · 3 years

Text

Visitation of a Lover - Yandere! Ghost Taehyung x reader

Happy Halloween! i hope everyone has a great evening and i hope you will enjoy this oneshot 🖤

Life never ceased to pass by. People were born and grew old, created their own families, earned themselves a legacy. Meanwhile, all that Kim Taehyung could do was watch. For hundreds of years he wandered around his estate, because he had nowhere else to go. No one that lived in his house even cared to acknowledge his life or history - he hadn’t heard his name leave the lips of his family in decades, and the portrait he’d commissioned of himself when the house was first built remained tucked away in the attic.

At the very least, he was thankful that he never had to see anything distasteful. The current occupant of his house - a very distant family member - was a mild mannered widower who only ever ventured into half of the rooms of the house, leaving plenty of space for Taehyung to live. The ghost had even been so bold as to start leaving a physical presence - in the dusty studio where he had spent many afternoons writing his diary when he was alive, he’d taken up painting landscape views. There was the slight risk that the old man could walk in and have a heart attack upon seeing a floating paintbrush but considering that he could barely make the trek to the kitchen for a cup of tea, Taehyung was more than happy to take that risk.

“Oh really? Good golly, you have to send me a picture?” Taehyung had been enjoying a light novel in the lounge when he heard the elderly man cheering loudly in his study. Curious, he folded the corner of the page and tucked the book away, phasing into the next room to see what was so exciting.

“A baby boy! Just like I wanted!”

He peered over the shoulder of his kin, seeing his open laptop on the polished maplewood desk. What the old man was so delighted by was an email showing a picture of a small newborn baby being cradled in a woman's arms. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was a new member of the family, but what piqued Taehyung’s interest more was the woman holding the child. Even with her forehead drenched in sweat and her body covered by a not-so-flattering hospital gown, there was something ethereal about her. For the first time in ages Taehyung felt some yearning in his heart.

He wanted… no, he needed to meet her. Maybe this angel could be the salvation he needed, the key to him escaping his mundane existence in purgatory.

It just so happened that through death that they would be brought together.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The elderly resident passed away a week after his great-grandson was born. Unfortunate timing, as he never even got to see the infant. Taehyung, however, was more fortunate, as the wake was held at his manor as per family tradition.

It was at this somber occasion he was able to see the woman who had piqued his interest up close. Maternity had had its toll on her body with her breasts sagging slightly and her figure still slightly bloated but the black funeral dress still looked quite beautiful, Taehyung noted. Interesting, how she lacked the figure most men would desire yet her husband still looked at her as if she was Helen of Troy reincarnate.

He found himself tailing her for the most of the occasion, still keeping a safe distance out of fear one of his fingers could brush against hers and scare her away for good. It was through this stalking he learnt of the young woman’s name - (Y/N).

She was quiet and respectful - as to be expected at a wake - but a bright smile lit up her face when she showed pictures of her newborn child to anyone who asked. It was way more intriguing watching her interact with everyone at the wake than to read one of the romantic books he’d poured over so many times.

“We’ve been reading through the will. And it seems Grandpa Kim left you his estate, rather than the money.” (Y/N)’s father-in-law was speaking to the couple in a hushed voice, drawing the ghost’s attention instantly.

“Really?”

“Well, it was updated quite recently with the birth of your son. I guess he thought by giving it to you, it would make sure the property stays in the family.”

“How do you feel about moving here, darling?” (Y/N)’s partner Seokjin - Taehyung had also learned his name through eavesdropping - asked, cradling her hand within his own.

“I would love to. But what about the dust? Won’t that be bad for the baby?” On god, her voice was as sweet as a nightingale song. How Taehyung longed to hear it for hours on end.

“I’ll clean it for you, silly. But do you think we could live here for the rest of our lives?”

The nod of (Y/N)’s head sealed their fate.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Initially the change in ownership had been a nightmare. Between the seemingly none-stop arrival of moving trucks, the buzz of people helping to put things away and the loud whining of the month-old baby, it was hard to relax. Taehyung felt almost as on edge as the new owners of the house, Yet after many arguments and sleepless nights the couple were settled in.

They seemed to have more appreciation for the house than it’s former occupant, with many of the dusty spaces becoming clean and decorated again. Even Taehyung’s writing room - he’d watched with apprehension at first when they entered the room, but a warm feeling bubbled in his non-existent stomach when he saw (Y/N) taking his paintings and hanging them on the wall. Did she appreciate art just as much as him?

Even if the couple had settled properly, the one person who was still restless was their infant. The baby boy would often wake up in the middle of the night and wail loudly, leading one of the parents to climb out of bed and hush him back to sleep. This routine nearly drove Taehyung up the wall, as his peaceful naps were often disturbed by the cry of a hungry infant. It had been a while since there had been an infant living at the manor and Taehyung still had yet to adjust to the noise level.

“There’s milk in the fridge if he wakes up, and nappies are in the second drawer down in the nursery. Feel free to help yourself to anything in there, except the Sauvignon of course. We’ll be back at about 11PM, thank you so much for helping us!”

Taehyung was too distracted by the sight of (Y/N) dressed up so elegantly in a sleek black dress to process what she was saying to the spotty-faced teenager standing before her as Seokjin slipped on his shoes.

“No worries Mrs Kim.” The teen responded. With one last fret about the child, the couple left to get in the taxi, and the house felt like it had lost all of its life.

Taehyung wished he could trail after (Y/N) as he usually did, but being confined to the manor meant he had to seek out the next best thing.

The nursery had been fully made over by (Y/N) and Seokjin within a week or so of moving in. Gone was the Georgian wallpaper, replaced by a coat of blue paint and decorated with twinkling moons and stars. Taehyung approached the coat, his fingers brushing the plush mobile over the cot and watching it spin.

He heard the gurgle of the baby below him, glancing down to see the blinking brown eyes gazing back up at him. Perhaps not directly at him, but it was enough to make Taehyung double back in shock. He reached down into the cot and placed one of his cold hands on the baby’s face. Its response was a delighted giggle, as if his touch was ticklish. Taehyung chuckled, poking at the child’s ribs to see him scrunch up his tiny legs. Suddenly, gazing into the little boy’s eyes Taehyung knew what he’d been missing in both his alive and undead life. A real family, someone he could speak to and someone he could love.

He wished he could pick up this child and coo over its chubby cheeks with his wife. He wanted to write poems about his love for life, he wanted to fall asleep holding someone at night.

But not just anyone would do. He knew, he just knew, it had to be (Y/N). She would be his, and he would be hers.

However, whilst Taehyung was pondering this, the child was growing uncomfortable and it startled the ghost back into reality with a loud cry for attention. He glanced down at the child, panicking at the sight of tears running down its cheeks. Luckily, it seemed that the young boy was only hungry, as the room still smelt like fresh linen.

‘It’s okay. The babysitter will sort him out.’ He told himself.

However, after several painful minutes of waiting there was no sight of the teenager leading Taehyung to search the house for him. He found the babysitter lying on the couch fast asleep, a movie playing on the TV and an abandoned bottle of beer on the coffee table.

‘Pathetic’. Taehyung scoffed to himself. ‘I’ll do it myself.’

He found the bottle filled with breast milk that (Y/N) had left in the fridge, the teat already attached. With one last glance at the passed out teenager, he picked up the bottle and made his way back to the nursery.

It must surely be a jarring sight to see a floating bottle of milk, and furthermore to be picked up and fed by an invisible person. However, the baby didn’t seem too disturbed, happily drinking the milk and burping without a care in the world.

After the infant was fed he started to nod off the sleep again, and Taehyung gently laid him down in the cot. He gently traced over the warm cheek of the child before leaving, the most happy he’d been in his life.

He spent the rest of the evening waiting on the sofa for (Y/N) to return. Whilst the TV was showing some action movie, Taehyung couldn’t find it in himself to become interested in it. Not when he had much more pressing issues on his mind. His mind was flurried with the realisation of how he felt. How could he love someone when he’s dead? How could he win the heart of (Y/N) when she couldn’t see him?

Luckily he wasn’t left to stew in his thoughts for too long - as the clock crept around to ten o’clock the front door opened and shut as (Y/N) and Seokjin returned home. Her face was creased with worry as she crept up to the nursery to check on her darling child, whilst Seokjin stayed to pay their now conscious babysitter who had hidden all traces of delinquency and was happily accepting his payment for doing nothing.

Taehyung, as always, chose to join (Y/N) in the nursery. He stood by the doorway, watching as (Y/N) bent down to press a kiss to her beautiful sleeping child. Then, unable to resist he approached her and rested his arms on her waist. He felt her shiver slightly at the cold touch of his hands and for a second the melancholy of his situation hit him like a truck. But Taehyung couldn’t let it haunt him, not when the warmth of her skin under his hands made him more at peace than he had been for years.

She stumbled slightly as she left the nursery, the evening’s drink hit her harder than it usually would, but Taehyung’s hands steadied her. Whilst he secretly savoured the feeling of her body in his hold, he was more concerned about how unstable she was - most likely due to having not drank alcohol in over a year.

Seokjin still hadn’t returned to his wife’s side, and for that Taehyung was both grateful and condemning of the man - he despised how the man could be married to such an ethereal woman and not spend every waking moment by her side, but he was grateful to be able to fill that role. He gently guided her towards her bed, scared that she could fall, and once she had flopped onto the bed lay down next to her, admiring every one of her features as she fell asleep still in her fancy clothes and makeup.

Taehyung had waited hundreds of years to find his purpose in life, and now that he’d found her he knew he would do anything to make her happy.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had become increasingly stressed since she returned to doing work, Taehyung noticed. Sure, it was only part-time and luckily they were happy for her to work from home meaning she didn’t need to get a new job. However, the incessant demand for attention from the young infant meant she rarely had a moment to rest her feet.

Taehyung wasn’t going to stand for it. Occasionally on the nights that his loneliness got to him, he would press his hand to her forehead only to find it hot and drenched with sweat. She was working herself to death, no doubt about it. And whilst Taehyung secretly longed for her to join the land of the dead with him, it wasn’t her time.

Thus, to take some of the stress off her back, he started to help out around the house. At first, it was minor things that (Y/N) wouldn’t think twice about. Putting dirty laundry in the basket, washing the dirty breakfast bowls, retrieving the toys that precious little Si-woo had thrown across the room, turning off the stove when she accidentally left it on. Seeing the positive effect these had on (Y/N), he started to get bolder in his actions - making her lunches (and letting her assume that it was Seokjin making them in the morning), taking out the garbage, shushing Si-woo when he started crying. All things Seokjin couldn’t do, that Taehyung would do everyday for her if she could only love him.

Spending time with her son was a new favourite hobby of Taehyung. He could stare at those twinkling eyes that inherited from (Y/N)’s for hours. He found that as the son grew he became more playful, and Taehyung was more than happy to keep the little tyke entertained. It was a risky game - if (Y/N) walked in and saw her son’s toys moving by themselves she would no doubt call an exorcist but with the delighted giggles that Si-woo made it was more than worth it.

However, with the increasing time he spent with (Y/N) Taehyung had a first hand seat to watching her relationship with Seokjin deteriorate. At first, it was just the lack of intimacy - Seokjin would often get home late, and by that time both (Y/N) and the baby were asleep leaving him to heat up whatever (Y/N) had made for dinner. When Seokjin woke up in the morning, (Y/N) had already been awake for hours caring for Si-woo. Seokjin missed everything, from Si-woo’s first teetering steps to the adorable way that he had said his first word: ‘dada’.

Then there was the argument.

“Have you seen my copy of ‘Eileen’?” In fact, Taehyung had borrowed it. Not only did he find the modern fiction way more interesting than his old romantic novels, he found it comforting to thumb the pages where (Y/N), much like he did, would fold the corners to save her progress.

“No. Where was the last place you left it?” Seokjin replied, not seeming nearly as interested in the issue as (Y/N) wanted him to be.

“I swear I left it on the dresser. Can you help me look for it?” She sighed in reply. Seokjin didn’t move.

“Is it such a big deal?”

Taehyung decided to leave his cozy chair in the corner to join (Y/N)’s side. He wasn’t sure, but he hoped she could feel his presence, to know that he was there for her even when her husband wasn’t.

“I just wanted to read it today. I was at a really good point.” His lover’s voice had a defeated tone to it, as if the book was her last hope in life.

“I’ll get you another copy. Come back to bed, (Y/N).” Seokjin purred, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“Why are you so selfish?” She suddenly snapped. “I feel like I do everything around here. I do all of the housework, I look after Si-woo all day long and I still find time to do my job! When was the last time you let your precious hands touch something domestic?”

“You think that I want to be away from home so much? I wish I could spend more time with my family but in case you forgot being in charge of a firm is actually quite demanding!” Seokjin stood up, his tone matching her aggression in a second.

(Y/N) paused, her eyes scrunching up as if she was going to cry.

“What happened? What happened to us that has made us this way? Why… why don’t I feel like you love me anymore?”

The sadistic side of Taehyung wished he could frame the scene and hang it up on the wall forever. The look of horror on Seokjin's face was simply priceless.

“You don’t mean that.” He said, trying to be firm only to have his voice shake with every word. “(Y/N), you can’t doubt my love for one second. Please.”

His wife just breathed out, rubbing at her eyes.

“I need a break.” She finally said. “I need to leave for a few days. Please.”

Seokjin looked hurt, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll look after Si-woo. You just need to look after yourself.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Taehyung was fuming. Half an hour after the Kims had argued (Y/N) had packed a small bag and left to stay with “some family”, allowing her husband to give her a small peck on the cheek before she left.

It was torturous for Taehyung, thinking of how much time he would have to spend away from his (Y/N). Although he was glad that she was going to have a break, the entire situation could have been entirely avoided if she had never married Kim Seokjin. If only she could have married Taehyung instead, he would’ve made sure she would never had to lift a finger and her every wish would be his command. Instead he could only have an invisible presence in her life, whilst she was stuck with a deadbeat husband who seemingly left all of the parenting to her.

Taehyung felt sick to his stomach seeing as he watched Seokjin act on his words, taking the next few days off work to look after his son. It just wasn’t fair, how he could talk to the toddler and get a babbled response or how he could hold out his arms and Si-woo would stumble towards him. Seokjin didn’t deserve fatherhood, Taehyung concluded. (Y/N) deserved a loving husband and father to her child and no matter how many hours Taehyung spent over the three days watching the broken family whilst (Y/N) was gone, nothing could convince him that Seokjin was the right match.

Seokjin had had a call from (Y/N), telling him that she was going to return home in a few hours. The giddy smile on Seokjin’s face as he told Si-woo that Mommy would be home today and they were going to help make her a special meal was just disgusting to Taehyung. No way did this pathetic excuse for a husband deserve to have (Y/N) back.

Taehyung sat at the table plotting what he should do as he watched Seokjin cook a meal to welcome (Y/N) back, as his adorable son sat on the counter and watched. He didn’t want to do anything in front of Si-woo, that would be too cruel. But he had to stop Seokjin in some way, and all his plans ended in the same result - killing him.

He could pour bleach down his throat. Or he could spill some oil onto him and set him alight. Or he could strange him with one of the curtain cords. All valid solutions to the problem.

“Daddy just has to go pee. Are you happy sitting in your playpen for a few minutes, hmm?” Taehyung’s murderous lines of thought were broken by the sound of Seokjin’s cheerful voice cooing to his son.

Finally, an opportunity. He could end Seokjin’s life in the bathroom, and Si-woo would be none the wiser as to where ‘Daddy’ was.

He waited until the scoundrel had placed his son in the playpen and left the kitchen before approaching the magnetic knife rail and plucking a decently sized blade from it. Taehyung then trailed a few metres behind Seokjin as he made a beeline for the bathroom - he couldn’t get too close, no doubt Seokjin would be immediately alarmed and his plan for subtly would be ruined.

When he finally reached the bathroom he cursed when it was closed (although luckily enough not locked) - whilst he could easily float through the door, his knife would not be able to and thus to enact the plan he swung open the door.

Seokjin turned around, slightly concerned at how the door was open when he was so sure that he’d closed it. Disregarding it as a draft he zipped up his trousers and was just checking his hair in the mirror when suddenly there was a force gripping his throat. His eyes darted side to side trying to find some answer but all he found was air. He wasn’t left in the dark for long, however - Taehyung would love to make the scumbag suffer but he didn’t want to risk (Y/N) walking in on the unfinished scene.

Thus, in one swift move he slit Seokjin’s throat and pushed him towards the bathtub, his victim’s body hitting the rim of the tub with a satisfying ‘thunk’. (Y/N)’s pathetic excuse for a husband’s last moments were agonising, his eyes wide with shock and confusion as he choked on his own blood. But before Taehyung had fully gotten to enjoy the pain of his rival’s death, life had drained from Seokjin’s eyes and his body slumped over. Taehyung drifted over to place the bloody blade in the corpse’s right hand, and as a final touch he wiped up the drops of blood that had fallen onto the ground just a little too far away to be believable.

Content with what he’d done, Taehyung left to visit Si-woo. The toddler seemed happy enough playing with his toy alpaca to even notice his biological father’s disappearance. Rather, he was delighted when he felt an invisible presence pinching at his cheek, letting out a hearty giggle. Taehyung managed to keep him occupied for the next hour, until (Y/N) returned.

Taehyung's non-existent heart thumped at a thousand beats a second when he heard a car drawing up on the gravel drive, and the car door slamming home announced that she was finally back.

“I’m home!” She called out, the only response she got being some babbled nonsense from Si-woo. She walked into the living room to see her son, smiling at first but the smile dropping off her face when she couldn’t see anyone else.

“Hey precious!” She cooed, scooping the toddler into her arms. “Where’s daddy?”

She didn’t hear the normal witty response from Seokjin nearby, leading her to click her tongue in annoyance.

“Did daddy really leave you all alone? That’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”

“Not at all.” Taehyung quirked back, scowling at how she seemed to have completely forgotten how neglectful of a father Seokjin really was compared to himself.

Evidently having not heard Taehyung’s comment, (Y/N) started to search for Seokjin, finding his abandoned cooking (although thankfully the bastard had turned off the stove). Taehyung just trailed behind her as usual, holding his breath as if she would be able to hear him.

After calling out for her ‘husband’ a few more times, (Y/N) gave up.

“I guess he got called into work. So much for spending time with his family.”

She made her way up to the nursery, placing Si-woo back down on the floor.

“Mommy just had a long journey, so she’s going to go to the toilet and then she’ll get you some dinner, okay?” (Y/N) said softly to the child, as if she expected a response. Si-woo just looked up at her innocently, completely oblivious to all that was going on except his own hunger.

Taehyung realised, as (Y/N) was walking away, that she was headed in the direction of the bathroom Seokjin had used and she was about to find his body. Upon that thought he followed her, hoping to support her when she found the grisly scene.

However, the shrill scream he heard when he was mere metres away from the room told him he was too late.

(Y/N) fell to her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks as she surveyed the situation. She was frozen still, unable to stop screaming until her voice was hoarse. Taehyung took the initiative to kneel beside her and rub his hand on her back. (Y/N) didn’t even seem to notice, not flinching from the cold as she usually did. All she could do was bury her face in her hands and weep at the sight before her eyes. And as much as it hurt Taehyung to see his (Y/N) in pain, his heart was telling him he’d done the right thing.

Now, (Y/N) needed him. She couldn’t survive as a single mother, not when she was struggling already when Seokjin was alive. But Taehyung believed with all his heart that he was more than fit to take on Seokjin’s role, as a father, as a husband, as the only one in the world who could truly love her.

#yandere kpop #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #yandere bts x reader #yandere taehyung x reader #kpop yandere #yandere au #yandere kim taehyung #yandere kim taehyung x reader #yandere v #yandere v x reader #bts v #taehyung x reader #v x reader #kim taehyung x reader #yandere oneshot #halloween special

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Note

Drowning is amazing! Please continue!!!

Thank you! I am glad that you like it!

And I wrote it. It's a late post though, sorry.

Drowning Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

@shydragonrider

Warnings: feverish whumpee, drugged whumpee, head trauma mention, pneumonia, pills (antibiotics), exhaustion, betrayal, talk of medical settings, mentions of attempted murder, anxiety, thoughts of anticipated retribution, nightmares

Hero scrambled to her feet, nervousness eating at her stomach. There was Villain, standing six feet tall and raging with anger, in her doorway. Not only did he look like he just went on a killing frenzy, he had a knife.

A knife and a true intent to kill.

"Villain," Hero cautioned, approaching the tall man. He glared, snarling down at Hero.

"I know you have him, Hero," he said, not even acknowledging Hero's quiet plea to step down. "Now, where is he before I bomb the place."

Hero noted that he still had a hospital gown on. His right forearm had blood dripping down it- the remnants of where he had ripped the IV out. The side of his head was still stitched up and hued in a deep royal purple shade. His damaged right eye was swollen, but not nearly as bruised as his temple.

"Where is he!" Villain hollered again and rushed at Hero. He stumbled a little bit and swayed as if a dense feeling of nausea washed over him- and considering the state of the villain's head, she wouldn't be surprised if he was indeed nauseous.

"He isn't here," Hero lied, but it was obvious that she didn't mean it.

"I know you took him home with you," Villain clenched his jaw, the bruise pulsating. "Why else wouldn't you visit me earlier?"

"Villain, I did visit you earlier," Hero tried to reason. "Remember?"

"No, no, no," Villain shook his head. "Only doctors and needles and fogginess and..." His voice trailed off ad his gaze darkened. "Not you."

"I'm sorry," Hero apologized, grabbing the villain's hands. She felt the knife loosening, but Villain didn't let go. Both breathed deeply, trying to calm themselves. Hero couldn't afford to get protective- if that was the correct word- and if Villain blew up again, by golly she would be.

But, the villain was obviously on another page. He suddenly punched Hero in the stomach, jabbed her jaw with the hilt, and lumbered into the house.

Hero doubled over, panting for breath as she tried to reorientate herself. After a good minute of puffing out breaths, she followed Villain.

She found him slamming his hip into her bedroom room. Instinctively, Hero lept on top of him, pulling him back. Thoughts rushed through her head. She had no means of restraints other than a pair of handcuffs in the bathroom cabinet- don't ask. She didn't even have a good enough room to lock such an explosive person in.

She had to take the handcuff route and somehow lead the maniac into the bathroom. Linking her arms around Villain's armpits, she attempted to drag the thrashing man down the hall, but, half-drugged and injured or not, he was still much taller and much bigger. He dug his heels deep into the hardwood floor and grit his teeth. He was going to kill Supervillain if it was the last thing he would do, and nothing, not even someone like Hero would stop him.

He yanked himself out of Hero's grasp and face planted into a wall, knocking down a sunset painting that Hero herself did. He weakly tried to use his arms to push himself back up, but they trembled and collapsed under his weight.

Hero returned her arms back to the position that caused Villain so much strife and dragged him. The villain had clearly exhausted himself to the point of compliance, so it really was an effortless task. She brought him to the bathroom, leaned his now lolling head against the baby blue wall and grabbed her horribly placed handcuffs. Putting them on deftly, she crouched down next to Villain.

"You are supposed to be in the hospital, you know," she lightly scolded him.

"I know," came the reply, so timid that Hero couldn't even correspond the rabid wolf that entered her den with the completely subdued fawn resting in her bathroom. His eyes were closing, too weary to stay open.

"Let's go get some sleep," Hero offered and pulled Villain to his shaky feet. But as she led him to the door, she noticed that he would not be able to make it to the living room without collapsing, so she scooped him up. Now that he was just hanging there limply, it was easy- there wasn't a fight, just complete and utter trust to allow the other to care for the wounded and exhausted one.

Once Villain was settled upon the couch, sleeping soundly, Hero went back upstairs to check on Supervillain. Unlocking the door with the key that worked for every lock, she pushed the door open and walked inside.

Hero scrunched up her nose. After spending sometime in fresh, lavender scented air, the revolting scent of sickness and sweat was like a trash can that had to be taken out to the curb.

But nonetheless, she walked over to the unconscious supervillain. His face was even paler, signifying that his fever spiked again, and he was shivering profoundly. She tossed another blanket over him and performed the hourly task of slipping the thermometer under his tongue. It beeped and like everytime, it revealed a nerve-wracking temperature.

Hero ran her hand through the grimey hair with a sigh and knelt down next to him. He was getting worse. Heck, he hardly looked like he was breathing, yet the consistent rise and collapse of his chest proved otherwise. Silent whimpers slipped through barely parted lips, a little trail of saliva streamed over parched lips. Eyes were closed, but barely. Hero could see distressed pupils shifting about as placid facial expressions contorted into ones of utter misery and pain.

"Hey," Hero whispered, grabbing his boiling hand. It didn't nothing to stop the unconscious torture Supervillain was enduring. His breaths sped up and he started to outwardly gasp, but never awoke.

"Supervillain?" Hero's voice was risen in pitch. "Hey, now. Wake up for me." She shook him, tapped repeatedly at his flushed cheeks, but nothing seemed to work.

Until he bolted up screaming.

No. Screaming was not the correct word for the desperate screech that tore itself away from Supervillain's face. It filled every crevice of the room- possibly even the house- with the haggard voice of terror. It made Hero cringe, her tired body jumping backwards. After the screaming festival was over with, Supervillain resumed a crying sound. Sobs turned into coughs as the sick man dealt with both illness from the pneumonia and whatever fear drove him into such a defensive fright.

Hero wrapped her arm around Supervillain, lethargically seating herself next to him. He turned his body over and pressed his face into Hero's side, relishing in the warming comfort it brought with a contented sigh. Soon after, he fell back asleep, mouth parting to draw in more precious oxygen.

Hero leaned against the pillow, allowing her ward to sleep cuddled up to her. Her own eyelids drooped, reminding her of the dire need to sleep. She contemplated sleeping next to the supervillain, but once Villain awoke it would be a catastrophe. Yet, the instinctual pull towards the awaiting slumber was too hard to resist. Hero scooted down into a more comfortable position, pulled Supervillain onto her chest and fell asleep next to him.

It was sometime before she felt something move beside her. Hero blearily opened her eyes- still heavy with left over sleep- to find Supervillain awake, still hugging her, but staring at something by the foot of the bed. At first Hero brushed it off as another feverish hallucination, but then she saw a shadow move.

Her eyes opening all the way, Hero's head darted to where her other unplanned guest was leisurely standing, using his knife to pick at his nails. Didn't she remove that toy from him?

"What did I say?" Villain asked, pressing his palms into the bedrail. "I say: you are housing Supervillain. No, she replies, blushing the entire time. And then what do I find? The criminal mastermind himself sleeping over the little princess with the tiara. Figures." Villain rolled his eyes, or his eye because the other was still sealed shut by the purple tarp that obscured the machine of sight from the world.

"I-i couldn't just leave him."

"He tried to kill you."

Supervillain whimpered, cowering deeper into bed as Villain's blantant mention of the past triggered his anxiety. Hero would surely get back at him once he was healed. She was just waiting so that she could redo the damage already done to his lungs. Make him suffer the agony he was experiencing. Supervillain let out a quiet sob and squeezed his eyes shut.

As complex as these thoughts seemed, the thinking of them only took a moment because soon, Hero was replying to Villain's accusation.

"And you tried to kill him," she retorted. "Twice. I stopped you both times."

"And knocked me out and hospitalized me in the process. Hero, we are the victims here. Not him," Villain shot a pointed glare at the scared supervillain with a sneer.

"You gave him pneumonia! He can die!"

"Okay, okay. One, I could've died from head trauma. Two, if he was going to die, take him to a freaking hospital. And three, you helped push him into the tank. Remember that."

The memory swarmed Hero like bees- the reminder of her own grave mistake making her feel a rush of guilt.

"I shouldn't have done that and I can't take him to the hospital or he will be arrested."

"I could've been arrested."

"Not everything's about you!"

Villain was silent, chewing at his bottom lip. "This isn't a decision of intellect, darling, housing him does not justify yours or mine or his actions. Not to mention how much you are going regret this," he pointed out, flinging the knife in his hands carefully.

"Why would I regret this. I am-"

"The Hero Agnecy dear. Did you think that your little medic friend thought it was normal for you to call my injuries in? Or are you that naive?"

Hero was silent, stunned into utter silence, but Villain's words. Medic never came. She never came to help Hero, but that didn't mean that she reported Hero's possible betrayal of the agency. It didn't mean...

She never came.

And Hero brought Villain to the hospital. That was all the proof needed for the Agency to put her on a watchlist.

"You need to go back!" Hero suddenly exclaimed, jostling Supervillain who was just about to doze off again.

"To where? The mangy excuse for a hospital?" Villain snorted. "Heck no." He chuckled. "They will put me back under with restraints this time. The chances of escape will go from 95.6% to zero in a matter of seconds. Its suicidal, not to mention probably stupid beyond reason."

"They are gonna think I busted you out..." Hero's voice trailed off when she saw Villain raise his eyebrow mockingly.

"Not everything is about you," he mimicked in perfect representation of Hero's prior exclamation that could've once been described as an arguement's winning statement.

"Shut up."

Suddenly, Supervillain started hacking, but this time around not only mucus left his lungs, but blood in the color of the deepest crimson.

"Hmm," Villain stayed silent for moment, brow ceasing. Hero thought she could literally see the gears clicking and turning in his head.

"You could be right," Villain agreed. "Going back would be beneficial. Especially for me." He grinned wickedly.

"How?"

"Well... Supervillain needs medicine and care, antibiotics to kick this pneumonia," Villain started to pace. "I could go back and gather some. Tell the docs that I escaped on my own... but for a price."

Hero got a sense of Rumpelstiltskin's classic, "all the magic comes with a price" speech with the twirl of his scaly pointer finger, from the series Once Upon a Time.

"Name it."

"All of my criminal charges are dropped, meaning I get to leave that hospital when I deem ready. Not when the stupid heroes decide that I am redeemed enough."

Well, uh, that... Hero shook her head. She never thought of it, but antibiotics were needed to make Supervillain better. She had to go through with it.

"Second," Villain counted off with his fingers as he threw sarcastically intended smirks. "I get a new motorcycle. Your boyfriend trashed it."

"He's not-" Hero stopped when she saw Villain raise an eyebrow.

"Shush, honey. Lemme talk," He drawled. "I will bring you the antibiotics if you swear you will heed my requests."

All sense of caution and foreboding were lost as Hero rummaged her thoughts over the promise. Supervillain's health for two simple things. It was easy enough.

"Deal," she said, nearly involuntary, but that wasn't entirely accurate because she indeed wanted this.

Villain smirk, running his tongue over his lips as he bounded over to shake Hero's hand. The second the two's flesh met meant that the deal was struck. Hero couldn't back away, nor could Villain.

Hero was in the kitchen tenderly feeding Supervillain some soup and prompting him to drink some gatorade when Villain returned triumphantly with a large red bottle.

"Sweet!" Hero exclaimed and grabbed the much needed tuberware. She opened it and admired the pills inside.

"One twice a day," Villain instructed, sitting down in the empty chair next to Hero. His eyes glinted with excited anticipation, narrowing slightly at the edges at the way Hero regarded the antibiotics.

She then took one and opened Supervillain's jaw. He didn't even attempt to resist and compliantly allowed her to maneuver his mouth around. Even though swallowing the hefty pill was an ordeal in itself, he managed.

Hero, seemingly satisfied, picked him up and carried him to the living room to nap on the couch. Villain followed behind her, shooting glances at his phone every few seconds.

Hero propped him against her shoulder and flicked on the television. A comedy show was on. Supervillain glanced up at it before digging his head into Hero's shoulders, completely disinterested.

Supervillain was asleep, Hero was resting with a relaxed look of tranquility on her face, and Villain was draped across an armchair completely absorbed in his phone and periodically looking out the window when the door made a knocking noise.

Hero tensed, and looked at Villain who had stood up.

"Wait here," he said, but there was no ounce of anticipation in his voice. Hero furrowed her forehead. There was even a hint of buoyancy in his typical monotone voice. Even though he usually spoke in a sarcastic air, he always seemed to drawl.

But this was different. Abnormal. Eerie. And a bit- if not very- concerning.

Hero stood up, leaning Supervillain against the armrest and pressed her ear to the recently shut door.

It was Villain who was speaking, that monotone that would stand out anywhere.

"I have them," he said. "I have them both."

Hero's heart dropped when she heard the click of guns.

#supervillain whumpee #hero caretaker #feverish whumpee #feverish villain #hero x supervillain #writing #heros and villains #pneumonia #drugged whumpee #drugged villain #fever #tw nightmares

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fumingspice · 3 years

Text

All The Things She Said

Pairing: Lana Winters x Reader

Part | 1 2

Thank you for all the love! Requests are open :D

Lana dropped her head in her hand and rubbed her temples and you felt your face go red. Your group of friends on the other side of the room, who you thankfully had not informed of the night before, laughed at your embarrassment.

Attempting to diffuse the tension, Lana approached the three of you with textbooks. "Take these," she said, her glare went straight through you. "And please don't be late to my class again."

You could feel the skin under your necklace burn as your hands made contact while she passed you the books. You could tell she felt something too when her face flinched slightly. There was something different about her.

She was wearing her wedding ring.

Lana noticed that you had seen it. "Stay behind after class."

The three of you took your seat at the back row, and you did your best not to look up during as much of the lesson as possible, resorting to taking notes from the book. Your face burned with the anticipation of Lana's confrontation. You had borderline lied to her about something that could risk the integrity of her career and her reputation. The guilt almost sickened you to your stomach and your friends could sense it.

"You gotta keep calm," Emmett whispered to you, knocking his knee against yours to tell you to stop bounding your leg. You peaked up for the first time in the lesson while the others were taking notes. Lana averted her glance as soon as you did so. "She's been looking up at you every time she gets a moment."

You rubbed your forehead with two fingers and peeled your necklace from under your shirt. It was white-hot. "What the fuck?" You muttered to yourself, getting Emmett's attention.

"I didn't know you had one of those," he said. "Maybe it means that its pair is close by-" Emmett stopped himself and looked from you to Lana.

The bell rang before he had a chance to finish himself. "We'll wait for you in the cafeteria."

The class filed themselves out as you remained in your chair, Heather gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder as she left.

You watched Lana smile at your classmates as she crossed the room back to her desk. The suspense was killing you.

Finally, Lana stood up again and sat on her desk, folding her arms, and staring right at you. "Come over here, please," she said, darting her eyes to the floor.

You followed her instructions and sat at the desk opposite.

Lana played with a pendant on her necklace as she seemed to gather the words to use.

"Do you understand the severity of what happened last night, and why we can't go through with tonight's plan?" she asked after a moment of silence, her whiskey brown eyes finally meeting yours.

"Because you're married?" You replied, slightly meaner than you intended to sound. Lana's eyes look inflicted by your comment.

She took off her ring and laid it on the desk. "You lied to me. You told me you weren't younger than twenty-one and Jesus Christ, why did I want to believe you so bad?" She put her head in her hand and for a moment you were unaware if she was talking to you or herself.

"No, I didn't," you replied. Technically. "I told you that a lot of people think I'm younger than twenty-one. I'm eighteen."

Lana took a minute to regain her composure. "Y/N, I think you're an amazing, beautiful, incredibly funny and smart young lady and I would love to have gone on with whatever we had started. Though, at the end I am still your teacher and you're still my student. That's like fifty shades of illegal," she said. Her eyes were trained on the ground now as she straightened her back.

Your necklace was beginning to burn your fingers now and you could see Lana was rubbing her chest. You stepped closer to her as she backed against her table and put your hand under hers.

But I thought she didn't wear her necklace?

Her necklace was hot too. You pulled her necklace from under her blouse and inspected it. In that moment you finally felt like you were able to one-up even Aria Montgomery.

"Does that mean-?"

You rubbed your temples. "Good golly, this is going to cause the worst migraine ever."

Lana looked visibly stressed too. "Surely there's a mistake, right?"

You stared at her hard. "Soul necklaces have never made a mistake in the history of their goddamn existence, Lana!"

The teacher groaned. "The only reason I put this on was because last night you reminded me that I actually had one and I wanted to throw it in my husband's face that there's someone else better than him-" she stopped herself in her rant to inhale hard "-even though that's not too fucking hard. I did not. In a million years. Put this on to match with one of my students."

"How about the chick who tried to pick you up in a bar, then. Would you have wanted to match with her?"

Lana looked like she was about to strangle you, and you weren't necessarily opposed to that. "Y/N, please for the love of God don't make this harder for me. I've been thinking about you since I got home last night." You could see tears in her eyes and a pang of guilt hit you hard.

You walked to the door, peered down the hallway to make sure it was empty and closed the door.

"Lana-"

"Ms. Winters."

"Way to remove the power dynamic," you muttered sarcastically. Lana tried to hide a blushing smile. "I have six months left. I can pretend you're just my teacher and you can pretend I'm just your favourite student of all time."

Lana bit her lip. "You're still flirting with me? You looked like a deer in headlights when you walked in."

You felt your face glow red in embarrassment. "I thought I was gonna pass out."

That much was true. When it had finally hit you that Lana was your new French teacher you had felt a weight on your heart like never before.

"So, sixth months of pretending. I think I can cope with that," Lana said. She was less stressed now. Well, from whatever relief the conversation had provided.

You nodded and peeked through the window by the door. The hallway was clear. You turned back to face Lana and took a step towards her. The teacher could sense her apprehension as you laid a hand on her cheek and pulled her close to you.

You looked up into her eyes and waited for her cue. She nodded, her eyes locked with yours before they shut and lent in. Her lips pressed against yours and her hands curled in your hair as you worked to deepen the kiss. Lana backed right onto the desk until she was sitting right on it, one of your hands reached down to grab her thigh and pull it to your waist.

Her hands dropped to the back of your neck. You were bewildered. How could something be so wrong yet feel so right? This went against almost every moral code you had with your teachers. You were a model student and now here you between a teacher's legs.

Lana pulled away abruptly. "I don't want to go further than kissing while you're still in school," she whispered.

You smirked. "Please. You didn't even plan on kissing back, did you?"

Lana shook her head as she shuffled off the desk and grabbed her bag from the chair.

You had never seen anyone jump as high as Lana Winters did when Emmett banged the door open.

"Mother of Jesus in a tank. Can't either of you be gentle with the doors in this school?!" She exclaimed. "You'll give me a heart attack one of these days."

"Sorry, Ms. Winters," Emmett muttered. He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. "I won't stay for long. I also just wanted to say that you don't need to worry about Heather and I saying anything, because we won't. But Heather is also getting impatient and wants to know if you need a lift home."

You shook your head. "I'll be a few minutes. I can walk home but tell her I said thank you."

Emmett gave a thumbs up and left.

"It's raining cats and dogs outside," Lana said. "You'll catch your death of cold."

"I'm a fast runner, Ms. Winters."

Lana shook her head. "What kind of person would I be if I let my favourite student walk home in the rain, hm?" She held up her keys and headed to the door.

You walked behind her while she informed a superior that she was driving you home. Child protection policy and whatnot. Ironic.

Lana sat in the driver's seat and blasted the heat.

"What's your address?" She asked, booting up the sat nav. You recalled her saying that she had only recently moved to this city.

"Sixteen Eli Boulevard," you replied, checking a message from your mom. She was making Carbonara for dinner.

Lana stopped. "You're kidding, right?"

"Are you being serious right now? Why would I kid about where I live?"

Lana pursed her lips and laughed. "I just moved into that neighbourhood yesterday."

Well, that was convenient.

"So, I can be expecting a lot more car rides with you, Ms. Winters?"

Lana cocked her head at you and frowned as she began driving. "Can we establish some ground rules? Like no flirting on school grounds? We can't afford for that to happen again."

You nodded in slightly disappointed agreement.

"In school, at least."

You paused, turning to take in the view of the mountain that sat beside your small town. You never seized to be amazed at that view.

“Can we reschedule our date? I know a place outside of town,” you say. Lana squeezed her eyebrows hard in thought.

“How far out of town are we talking?”

“An hour or so on the train. Give or take.”

Lana stopped the car outside your drive. “I can do Saturday.”

Perfect.

You heaved yourself out of her car and gave her hand a squeeze. It was the closest thing to a kiss you could manage.

What on Earth am I doing to myself.

taglist: @its-soph-xx @delias-bitch-craft @sarahpaulsonsoftie @jumpoffabridge-t @coffee-is-below-my-standards @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia

#lana winters #lana winters x reader #ahs #ahs imagines #sarah paulson #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #sally mckenna #sally mckenna x reader #cordelia goode #cordelia goode x reader #foxxay #ahs murder house #ahs coven #ahs asylum

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jonkentt · 3 years

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can’t spell handsome without Sam...

Ao3

Sam and Bucky are sitting at the end of the dock. Bucky’s absently swinging his legs over the water and looking at the horizon.

“So this cute guy gave me his number while I was at the cornerstore just now,” Sam says.

“Yeah? Captain America fanboy?” Bucky seems disinterested.

“If he was he didn’t say.” Bucky grunts noncommittally. “He seemed chill actually. Cute too.”

“You mentioned that already.”

“I think I’ll call him.”

“Really?”

Sam shrugs and keeps his tone light. “Yeah, I mean why not? Could be fun.”

“Sure.” Bucky deadpans. “Go for it.”

“You think so?”

Bucky turns to Sam then, incredulous. “No!” he snaps. As if Sam just said the stupidest thing imaginable. Sam bites back a laugh.

“Oh? I’m a grown man, I’m capable of choosing who I date.”

“We’re talking about dating now? Just some random groupie?” Bucky’s getting worked up now and Sam is enjoying himself immensely. “He could be a creep, Sam! A grown dumbass is what you are.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Feels like you’re projecting here, Buck. You have some social insecurities you wanna talk about?”

Bucky scoffs. “I’m not the socially inept one here, Sam. So he just saw you over the snack aisle and handed you his number on a napkin? The guy could get to know you first.”

“That’s literally the point of sharing a phone number, Bucky. But I guess you wouldn’t know that since you can’t even reply to a text.”

“That is not what we’re talking about.”

“No, you were just saying I’m not fine enough to pick up guys over the snack aisle.”

“Don’t be absurd, I would never say that! You’re fine as hell and anyone that says otherwise is a fucking idiot because you literally can’t spell handsome without Sam.” Sam guffaws.

“Can’t spell—? Jesus, Bucky, your flirting is a disaster.”

“Well you’re such a jerk, you should be grateful you have me to flirt with!”

“I’m about ready to find someone else!”

“Good fucking luck! No one’s going to adore you more than I do!”

“Well ask me out yourself then!”

“I will!”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Bucky gets up and storms off. Sam gives him till the end of the dock but clearly that was putting too much faith in Bucky. He stomps at least another ten paces before freezing mid-step. Bucky slowly lowers his boot and a peel of laughter does escape Sam then. He tries to pull himself together as Bucky backtracks but his shoulders are still shaking with suppressed laughs when Bucky plops down beside him again. This time Bucky doesn’t leave room for personal space. Sam snorts.

“You made that up didn’t you. Wanna go on a date with me that bad, huh?”

“First of all, I absolutely did not make that up—“

“No one says ‘cornerstore,’ Sam, I don’t think those even exist anymore.”

“And second of all, you’re the one who wants to date me. You’ve been pining so much I feel bad for your sorry ass.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “But now that we both know, you don’t have to be embarrassed about asking me out.”

“Golly, you’re a real hero, Sam.”

“I know it.”

Bucky swings his legs onto Sam’s lap and wraps his arms around Sam’s neck. He leans in real close and says in a husky voice, “So will you go on a date with me?” Sam holds his gaze, dragging out the silence, his eyes still sparkling with amusement.

“Nah.”

“I thought you felt bad for me?”

“Not that bad.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. Sam is unfazed by Bucky’s murder glare. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist and grins like a challenge. Then Bucky throws his weight off the edge of the dock and takes Sam with him.

Bucky is already cackling when Sam’s head breaks the surface, spitting out water. “You—!” Sam lunges for him but Bucky’s faster. He dodges and sends a wave of water into the side of Sam’s face. Bucky swims circles around Sam, throwing water at him from every direction. Sam gets a couple successful splashes at Bucky but ends up just trying to shield his face while laughing uncontrollably. “Man, stop—!” Another wave of water catches Sam in the mouth. He gags at the grimy taste on his tongue and hears Bucky tease him. Another splash. “Cut it out!”

Sam’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt and finally Bucky relents. He swims closer and when Sam has finished scrubbing water out of his eyes, Bucky is right in front of him, grinning. Sam laughs as he wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist.

“Let me make you dinner.”

“Yeah, alright.” They’re both grinning goofily at each other and Sam runs his hand through Bucky’s wet hair.

“Don’t worry,” Bucky says seriously. “I won’t forget you’re only doing this out of pity.” Sam hums his agreement.

“Well, no one else could put up with you for so long.”

“Careful, Wilson. That almost sounded like you like me.”

Sam cups Bucky’s face and looks at him fondly. He watches a droplet of water slide down Bucky’s cheek and get caught in the crook of his smile.

“Maybe I do. Just a little.” Sam leans in and kisses Bucky tenderly. Bucky kisses him back.

#sambucky fic #back on my gay shit #sam wilson fic #bucky barnes fic #onlysambucky

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anonymouslyangsty · 3 years

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Ultimate clairvoyant!Taka

Wow congrats. You just found the worst possible talent for Kiyotaka Ishimaru. I'm impressed.

Fair warning this is very long. I got excited.

Listen It's the worst talent for him and I adore that. He's all about hard work and effort, working hard instead of relying on 'talent'. And yet he has a supernatural ability that he neither earned nor can really work hard at.

Taka would definitely feel guilt or shame over his ability, because what has he done to earn it? Why should he have some magic ability that gives him an unfair advantage? And even if he rarely used the ability, he'd always feel like a cheater, just some genius.

I can absolutely see Toranosuke being the first to catch onto Taka's ability. Like maybe he's watching a local election on TV while Taka's in the room, and jokingly asks the 5 year old who he thinks will win. Taka pauses for a moment, before very confidently picking one of the candidates. And...he's right.

And if it were a one time thing, you could easily write it off. He had a 50% chance to be right after all. But Toranosuke's interest is peaked. So he tries again, maybe lets Taka guess the winning numbers on a lottery ticket. The boy is right again.

Maybe this is what causes the scandal in this au? Toranosuke starts making perfect investments, so perfect that people suspect his abusing his position to get insider information. After all, how can he so perfectly predict when to invest, or when to sell his stock?

At this point, he can either claim to just be very good at what he does, which won't convince anyone...or he can tell the truth about his grandson. And really, what's the downside of doing that? It proves he isn't abusing his power (at least not in the way they're accusing him of), and it GIVES him more power. Because if Kiyotaka really does have this ability, then everyone is going to want to talk to the boy.

So Toranosuke proves without a shadow of a doubt that Taka can predict things, likely on national television. It's...a pretty big freaking deal, because it straight up proves that supernatural things are real.

Takaaki is very much out of the loop on this whole thing. The first he hears about Taka's ability is when his father's is dragging the boy on television to prove it. Takaaki is...unhappy that his father would do that without warning him, to say the least.

So Taka basically becomes a child god to some people. Politicians pay ridiculous amounts of money to get predictions and advice from this 7 year old boy. There's a legit cult that worships Taka. Maybe even a few kidnapping attempts, because who wouldn't want the boy who can predict the future?

Takaaki doesn't like that such a young boy is getting dragged into this kind of stuff. It's unhealthy, and some of Taka's 'followers' are obsessive and extreme in what they'll do. A 7 year old shouldn't have worshipers.

But even as his father, Takaaki has very little power to stop what's happening. It's an entire movement, with billions of yen involved and millions of people. The fact that Taka is his son doesn't have much sway at that point. The best he can do is make sure Toranosuke doesn't exhaust his son by keeping him up all night making predictions.

As for Taka, I'm sure he loves it at first. He's helping his grandfather! He's making so many people happy! And people like him and give him things! What little kid wouldn't like it?

But as he gets older, Taka begins to question if it's really a good thing. Because some of the people he's helping don't seem to be good people. They're politicians who aren't helping people, or businessmen who are abusing the information he gave them. And the older Taka gets the more he questions if what he's doing is right.

I definitely want this Kiyotaka empire to fall somehow. Maybe the stress of the position, the fear that he's doing the wrong thing, finally gets to Taka. And his dad knows that Toranosuke won't do what's best for the boy's mental health. So he takes Taka and runs, moving into some small run down town in the middle of nowhere, praying that nobody will recognize them.

Once they've escaped the spotlight, Taka starts doing what you'd expect from him. Working hard at school, joining the morals committee, generally being a teacher's pet, ect. Perhaps he feels like he has to make up for being a tool for corrupt politicians, for having a special edge up on others that he didn't earn.

He tries his best to ignore his powers, but the fact that he doesn't want to be a clairvoyant doesn't mean he isn't one. And going from using his powers constantly to never using them does have its consequences.

Taka doesn't want to magically know which student was going to run in the hall, or who was going to try to sneak out and smoke during lunch. It's immoral of him to abuse his powers like that, even if he is right! But he does know, and he can't just sit by and let the rules be broken, even if he got to information through unjust means.

I can also see him starting to sleepwalk at some point, because all that magical energy isn't just going to stay dormant. Takaaki is very used to his son walking into his room at 3 am, and telling him to invest in some company or another. Then just...flopping on the ground like a puppet whose strings were cut. Takaaki’s gotten very good at catching him before that happens, though he’s considering buying his son a helmet to sleep in just in case.

But even for all their hiding, Taka's absolutely going to be found sooner or later. He was known as the most powerful boy in Japan, he can't just disappear without people hunting him down. Plus Taka has a very distinctive face, with the bright red eyes and huge eyebrows.

Maybe that's why he accepted a position at HP. Not because he wants anything to do with his power, but because he wants his father not to have to deal with all of the madness surrounding it. If Taka leaves, the cult following, the constant hounding, the pursuit, goes with him. Takaaki can have a normal life.

(Also, imagine how heartbreaking and infuriating it would be for Taka to get that invitation. Because this Taka has worked just as hard as canon Taka. He got perfect grades through hard work, because he knows that magically knowing the answers isn't the same as understanding the material. He's just as hard working, just as qualified for the role of Ultimate Moral Compass. And yet he's recognized for something that he can't control. He's recognized for genius rather than effort.)

Final few statements, because golly this has gotten long. I do think Taka's powers work differently than Hiro's. Taka doesn't get quite as many predictions as Hiro, but when he does get them, they're 100% accurate.

While Taka probably can predict anything, most of his predictions specifically involve politics, economic trends, and things involving breaking rules. It's likely because that's what he's interested in, so that's where his predictions focus.

Now I'm thinking about Kiyotaka and Kyoko working together on a case. Taka can predict what'll happen before it does happen, and Kyoko has the ability to solve the case with the help of Taka's predictions.

#talentswap #kiyotaka ishimaru #takaaki ishimaru #look i love this idea thank you #danganronpa #an ask tag

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kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 3 years

Text

A full, entire list of headcanons for a day with:

1. ☼ waking up with him ☼6am-8am

LISTEN UP Y’ALL

IF YOU DON’T SIMP FOR EIJIRO, JUST THINK:

YOU WAKE UP EVERY MORNING TO SEE HIS BEAUTIFUL, MESSY, CHAOTIC BED-HEAD WITH HIS HAIR DOWN AND HIS ADORABLE TIRED LIL’ SMILE

now if THAT doesn’t make you simp, you CONFUSE ME

anyways, so-

if there’s one thing that kirishima chooses to do, it’s to wake up early. i am so sorry to those who enjoy sleeping in, but hey, it’s the price we gotta pay to simp 😔✋

but omfg y’all, is the sweetest baby ever when you wake up with him! kirishima would most likely cuddle you first thing in the morning (…as in like 5 am-) and pull you in closer, planting a kiss on your forehead

“’morning, my beautiful pebble, d’ya sleep well?”

butcanwepleasetalkabouthowcutehisvoicewouldberightwhenhewakesup

you’ll also probably wake up to an insane amount of talking and chatting with him, and by six o’clock, he makes sure that you’re ready to be on your way

the sun is still rising where you guys are, so it’s actually pretty dark where you guys are

he ruffles your hair as he takes you on walks outside, hand in hand, no matter how tired you are

expect him to piggy back you, saying that it’s manly bc IT ISSSSS

2. ✎ doing online school with eijiro ✎ 8am-12pm, 2pm-4pm

“i think i’ve lost complete and utter trust in everything,” you groan. “i can’t even trust my video and mute button, and i need to trust those!”

kirishima grins at you as he plants a kiss on your forehead. “how ‘bout i buy you something tasty during break, huh?”

“kirishima, we’re literally broke,” you deadpan, half-joking but half speaking realistically.

“so what?” you’ve been working so hard lately, i figured that you at least deserve something as a reward.” he squeezes your shoulders from behind your seat (don’t worry, your video’s off for now :))

you raise an eyebrow. “…something?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“yeah! like maybe we could go for a walk, or-” he stares at your expression before he realizes what you implied. “baby, this is a sfw blog, we’re not allowed to-”

kirishima also most definitely pulls up a chair next to you in class, even though he doesn’t even know what you’re doing. he might not be in that class, but he’ll be right next to you the whole time in case you need help

when you do need help, he peers over your shoulder and helps you solve whatever problem you have right away

the sweetheart also gives constant reassuring reminders to drink water, i LOVE HIM

but when he leaves, he also says, “study and work hard, y/n! i’ll be right here for you during break!”

he promises you a kith and a hug if you keep on striving during online classes 🥺

kirishima likes to come in during class when your video is very much on, and he peeks his head in, waves, and then smiles before heading back out of the frame

“y/n, how do you fight villains, kick butt, literally stand up for an entire school, but you still rehearse how to say here?”

“shhhhh, i’m trying-”

another scenario, “y/n, can you please answer question four?”

“sure. the book that i chose for my report was the fault in our stars by john green, which implies the message that-”

“BABY, YOU GOTTA SEE HOW LOUDLY I CAN CLAP MY HANDS IF I USE MY QUIRK-”

you mute yourself, “DON’T YOU DARE-”

he makes online school almost exciting, and he just makes everything so much more enjoyable

kirishima also takes your hand, squeezing it tightly as he kisses your knuckles. “i’ll start making lunch. good luck baby!”

3. ♨ meals and afternoon walks with eijiro ♨ 12pm-1pm

HATE YOU BREAK IT TO Y’ALL BUT EIJIRO KIRISHIMA CANNOT COOK FOR THE HECK OF IT

y’all have seen him in the training camp thing,, right??

kirishima might not be the best at cooking, but you can count on him to take you somewhere!

man knows the best places where you live, and he just about literally gets whatever you want

you guys probably leave for a walk during break at noon, and kirishima makes sure that you feel safe and comfortable around him no matter what

afternoon walks are probably the most interesting part of your day, and the way lets you put your hand in the pocket of his hoodie just- 🥺🥺

i think something that isn’t stressed enough is people who seem less vulnerable being attacked by predators, so if anyone even dares to approach you, kirishima will LITERALLY POP OFF

not like the quirk pop off-

“HEY! that wasn’t very manly of you!”

as you walk along the way, kirishima makes sure to never let go of you and make sure you feel completely safe with him

you two probably stop by a nearby restaurant and get some sort of food to-go before heading back and eating during class, but shh your teacher doesn’t have to know-

he’s such a sweetheart like honestly

kirishima makes every meal taste like 50 times better, and he makes sure that you eat and drink lots of water!

but if you’re honestly having trouble with your appetite, kirishima makes sure not to push you too hard

he holds your hand if you ever get scared, he tells a joke ease your mind a lil’ 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

eijiro makes sure that no matter what happens, he holds your hand and tells you to take it easy, but also encourages you whenever you need it

he’s so sweet, please keep him

4. ◪ crying + evening naps ◪ 5pm-7pm

crying

kirishima knows that crying is just something that’s natural, whether it’s that you’re frustrated or just feel so tired, he understands

and it’s not even like you’re having a full blown panic attack or anything. you just gotta have your daily cries, ya know?

please tell me i’m not the only one who has like scheduled daily cries-

“it’s okay, crying’s healthy for you, anyway! it’s definitely better than keeping it bottled inside you. c’mere.”

he kisses your scalp as he rocks you back and forth, occasionally wiping away a tear

kirishima reminds you that reacting some way to a bad situation is natural

“if someone was in your shoes, they’d most definitely feel that way, too! don’t feel like you’re the only one, baby, because you’re not. i’m here whenever you need me.”

after, he takes your hand and drags you to get a glass of water. “if you ever nee to cry again, you gotta stay hydrated,” he winks

he’s also so caring and soft when he sees you upset, he gives you the best cuddles as he plays with your hair. kirishima occasionally, when you’re crying, whispers in a compliment.

“your eyes are so magical.”

“you have such a beautiful smile.”

“you’re so… beautiful.”

naps

for naps, kirishima omg please jUST BE REAL FOR ONE SECOND

PLEASE HOW DID MY LIFE COME TO BEING IN LOVE WITH A COLLECTION OF PIXELS-

that beautiful, loving, emotional support shark is who i’m in love with and it’s insane

you rest your head on his chest, breathing in his scent as he places his hands around your stomach

(also kirishima would most definitely adore plus-sized people and stretch marks/acne. he loves every insecurity that people growing up may have, and that just gives me SO MUCH HOPE-)

everything is just so insanely peaceful as he has soft music playing in the background, kissing your nose and cuddling in closer with you

the blanket is directly over you, and after a long day at work, you two decide to take a break together

kirishima also most definitely makes sure to wake up earlier for the nap than you so that he could get you a cup of water

he plays with your hair and gently shakes you when you need to get back to work 🥺🥺

5. ☾ going to bed + cuddling headcanons ☽ 10pm-12am

OKAY SO I KNOW I ALREADY DID SOMETHING LIKE THIS HERE

but i literally canNOT STRESS HOW MUCH LOVE I HAVE FOR THIS INDIVIDUAL

he usually doesn’t mind if you stay up late, but as long as you take care of yourself while you’re at it, that’s completely okay!

kirishima usually likes to make sure that you have a consistent sleep schedule though, even if you look at him in the face and go,

“excuse me? sleep schedule? who’s that?”

eijiro just laughs in such a pure way before he helps you tie your hair or keep it up when you’re brushing/rinsing

while you brush your teeth though, he kinda just wraps his arms around your waist in such a gentle way 🥺🥺

he’s such a gentleman and just wants you to be happy

after, he gets you a cup of water and sits next to you on the mattress

he sometimes likes to play old rom-coms or films while cuddling next to you, or maybe some fancy lil’ disney movies

sometimes he’ll pick horror movies and say “i’m manly enough, i can take it!” and then you’re completely unfazed while kirishima SCREAMS

“b-being vulnerable is manly!”

“oh golly i love you so much.”

something i absolutely adore about kirishima is that he has so much respect for women, enby’s, whatever it is, he just wants them to feel safe and comfortable

he makes sure that it’s okay for him to wrap his arms around you, and makes sure to respect your boundaries

there’s no better place to be than in his arms when he’s wearing a hoodie and your face is rested in the crook of his neck

his chest rises and falls as he turns off the lights, and he might play some light music in the background

kirishima likes to play with your hair and makes raspberry blows into your neck aND I PERSONALLY THINK THAT’S HILARIOUSLY ADORABLE

he’ll make sure that no matter what, you feel safe and comfortable around him

you two sometimes end up having really deep conversations at like 2 am with him

for no apparent reason, you two just start talking away like it’s nothing

he holds your hand and runs his hands through your hair, before whispering comfort into your ear

“you’re so, so beautiful,”

“you have the most beautiful smile,”

“has anyone told you how nice your eyes were?”

“i love you.”

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