#f+c inspired again! what if things were worse

[its-just-fern]

in another universe...

(part 2)

#doodles #fern the human #jake the dog #prismo #f+c inspired again! what if things were worse #anyways i have another comic for this actually but immm gonna wait to finish it bc theres more panels. LOL #also i tried a new style for the comic! pretty pleased with it (+ the process was faster) #only finn au

[j4ystar]

90s LOVE — park jay

➞ bf!jay x f!reader

➞ hockey!au, inspired by the 90s love by nct u mv !!!

➞ synopsis : jay plays against your ex's hockey team

➞ fluff????

➞ word count : 1.6k

➞ tw : jay kicking ass semi-violent fight moment, swearing, just an itty bitty mention of blood

ᓚᘏᗢ aj — LOLLL took me so long to acc publish anything on here. if she sucks lets just pretend she doesn’t. smth short for tonight bc this is all i’ve been thinking of recently. enforcer refers to a player that deters and respond to violent play by the opposing team by starting fights w them. ALSO HAHAH I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HOCKEY.

jay’s vision blurs momentarily as he gets shoved into the side panels of the rink. he regains his balance quickly though, and he brushes off the aching pain in his shoulders. he looks up hoping to get a glimpse of the jersey number that had just body checked him. he stomps on the ice, breezing past his teammates and the opposing team alike. he scans the ice for the puck and finds an open spot, and he watches his team fall back into a defensive position when they fail to shoot the puck into the opposing team's net.

that stupid number 10 was getting on jay’s nerve. he wore his jersey proudly as he strutted the ice with such toxicity. he was a bad player. he had been playing dirty, and the refs weren’t calling any of it. they turned a blind eye to it. he was known as one of the enforcers for the opposing team. now, jay was in no way the enforcer of his team; that was left for his other teammates. jay was the center of his team. jay was warned about number 10. not by his teammates nor his coach, but by his girlfriend.

"jay whatever he says or does during the game. just ignore him."

jay wanted to ignore him so bad. jay could tolerate the rough play on the ice; the shoving was all part of the game, and that game, jay could play. but the comments were much worse to tolerate. not when they included you. number 10 was your ex, jang jiwook. the stories you had a hard time opening up to jay about made jay hate his guts, despite not knowing the guy at all. upon hearing about the things he had done to you, jay just had to know what he looked like to at least keep an eye out for you when in public. throughout the entirety of the first half of the game, jiwook had been throwing comments left and right to jay about you, his beloved girlfriend. the misogynistic name-calling was enough to get steam blowing out of jay’s ears as if he were an animated character. while jay was good at keeping his temper in check, he couldn’t keep ignoring what jiwook was saying about you. jay wanted to listen to you so bad. he didn’t want to upset you first and foremost.

jiwook skates past jay again, briskly brushing past his shoulder. jay manages to skate into an open spot where he steals the puck away from the current holder and is able to turn the game around from there. upon rounding to the blue line nearest to the opposing team's net. jay looks to his right, finding jiwook coming in with such speed that he is sure he is about to come in and bulldoze jay. and so he passes the puck to another teammate, hoping they will be able to finish the play and score for their team. his teammate is able to make the score, which leads to a chorus of cheers from their school crowd.

jiwook skates up past jay with a smirk playing on his lips. jay’s irritation begins to grow.

"i heard you were with yn? have fun with my leftovers." and with that, he skates away. jay can hear him chuckling under his breath. jay breathes out for a moment. the cold arena makes his hot breath come out as a white fog. eyes averted to the clock and then back to the game. jay’s eyes watch carefully as his teammates skate with such vigour; he can hear the calls from left and right, yet as sunghoon calls out for jay to pass to, before he can even receive the puck in the bill of his stick, a body comes smashing into his side, sending jay toppling over.

the audience falls into a frenzy, some cheering, some complaining. jay’s teammates turn their heads in concern for his condition. jay feels jiwook’s heavy weight lift off him, and jiwooks teammates are hitting their sticks against the boards of the rink. despite the heavy hit to his head, jay can still see straight, and all he wants to go for is the big blue jersey with the numbers 10 stamped in white letters plastered on the back.

sunghoon approaches jay; he asks him if he’s okay. but his words just sounded slurred to jay, who begins catching up to jiwook. sunghoon looks towards the student section of the audience in search of you. fully knowing what’s about to happen next.

jay can hear the shouts of his teammates in the players box, and he is sure his coach is mixed in there yelling about not following the play. but he simply shakes his white gloves off and rips his helmet off his head, proceeding to toss it to the side. his right arm comes to tap jiwooks shoulder, who spins around on his skates only to be met with jay’s cold fist to his face. the crowd's roars intensify after the first hit.

the first hit is enough to get the helmet twisted partially off jiwook’s head. but the second left hook knocks the helmet clean off. leaving a defenceless jiwook to jay’s assault. jiwooks arms come to either side of jay’s bulky arms, and he quickly rips his gloves off in an attempt to retaliate for the violence. jay is full of rage; he is already burning up under all the equipment layered on his body.

"don’t fucking talk about yn like that," jay tells him. hair disheveled. jiwook struggles against jay who throws the last punch before the refs tear the two boys apart. jay comes back to his senses upon being scolded by the referee as he gets ushered to the penalty box. jiwook is skating with crimson blood slowly dripping from his nose, it drips onto his chin and onto the neck cut of his jersey.

jay refuses to look at jiwook from the penalty box, but when he cranes his neck to look at the spot where you reside among the other watchers in the arena, he fails to find you. but he knows you are probably upset at him for acting out. despite your warnings for jay, he never promised you that he wouldn’t hurt jang jiwook.

after five minutes in the box, he returns to the players box, where his teammates cheer him on and praise him for being able to square up to an enforcer despite being a center. fighting wasn’t jay’s job, at least not on the ice. but fighting for you? it was his job, and he takes his job very seriously. his teammates send him to the locker room, and jay wholeheartedly expects his coach to be in the locker room, where he would get scolded and lectured for not waiting on an enforcer on his team to take the damage for him. that wasn’t what entirely plagued his mind though.

upon reaching the changing rooms, he pushes them open and expects to face his rugged and scary coach. but as he prepares to feel his coach’s wrath rain down on him, he finds you instead. your purse dangling by your side while you stand with your arms crossed. you wear jay’s jersey with pride, regardless of his new reputation on the ice and the several stares people gave you when you began to make your way to the change rooms to talk to jay.

"look, i’m sorry—"

"you fucked him up good, you know." you told him, and jay lets out a breath of relief. you weren’t that mad. at least if you were, it wasn’t really showing. "he was saying shit about you. what did you expect me to do?" jay asks you, crossing his arms over his chest to mimic you.

"didn’t i tell you to ignore him?"

"how ‘bout you try ignoring my ex when she calls me her leftovers?" jay argues, huffing out in annoyance. jay sits on one of the benches, exhausted and with his head still spinning. you stop your movements. "he called me his leftovers?" your expression morphs to that of amusement. "well now i’m glad that you kicked his ass." you say. maneuvering past the other benches and duffle bags scattered over the floor. you take jay’s head into your arms and stand between his legs. he lays his head on your chest automatically. jay’s arms come around your torso, hugging you closer to him. a hand rests on one of his shoulders while the other tangles in jay’s hair.

"and to be clear, if your ex said anything bad about you, i would fight her too." you laugh softly. you can hear jay’s muffled chuckles. "i think i've got to go before your coach actually comes and scolds you." you tell him softly. he lets out a whine, his arms circling around you tighter, refusing to let you go.

"you still have a game to play, jay." you tell him sweetly, hands coming to his shoulders. he parts from you. looking up at you with such a yearning gaze. his eyes are soft. contrasting the way his eyes sharpened when he looked at jiwook with such fervour during the game. you bend down to press a kiss onto the corner of jay’s lip. when you pull away, jay follows your lips. his eyes fluttered closed and not realizing what he was doing. a small smirk appears on his lips as he looks away from you and refocuses his gaze onto a different corner of the room out of a sudden burst of timidness. jay would do anything for you, even if that meant getting benched for the rest of the season because your loser dickhead ex boyfriend is salty you found a better man.

"park, you’re supposed to be attacking the net, not the opposing players." you and jay jump at the voice of jay’s coach booming through the locker room.

THE END WAHOOOOOOO

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jay x reader #jay park x reader #enha jongseong #jongseong fluff #jongseong imagines #jongseong scenarios #park jongseong #jongseong x reader #jay park fluff #park jongseong blurbs #jay park fan fiction #jay park blurbs #jay park scenarios #jay park imagines #heeseung x reader #jake x reader #jaehyun x reader #sunoo x reader #sunghoon x reader #jungwon x reader #niki x reader #engene #j4ystar #its 2am

[rainbowpumpkin]

Prompt: Cal put his nose where it didn't belong

AHHHHHHHHHH here I go, writing smut. @hereforthefanficsandromance gave our discord some prompts and I wrote THIS, please, enjoy, teehee.

It's also a bit inspired by Laundry Day by talesfromthecryptkeeper

“Hey, Cal? Can you grab my gloves? I don’t want to stab myself with these roots.” You look up from the plant you’ve carefully dug up. You’re tending the garden with BD on the roof of Pyloon’s Saloon. Cal looks up from the datapad he’s holding. 

“Sure thing, be right back.” He smiles, getting down the tablet and heading downstairs.

Greez had prepared a cozy room in the basement for the two Jedi. Cal softly whistles as he descends the stairs. Your backpack is sitting on the workbench, half unzipped. Cal opens the bag and peeks inside for it, rummaging around.

Your gloves are nowhere to be seen. Cal frowns and opens the front pocket, even though he knows he shouldn’t go through your stuff.

Inside, there’s a small curved device. Never seeing the item before, Cal fishes it out, curious. Right when his hand comes in contact with the device, Cal inhales sharply. His psychometry instantly takes over and he’s pulled into a memory tied to the strange object.

The vision becomes clear and Cal sees you, panting softly on your bunk in the Mantis. You’re covering your mouth with your hand, softly moaning. Your cheeks are flushed, a bit of sweat covering your face.

Cal’s eyes trail down your lying form, and he chokes on his breath.

You’re moving the device in and out of your leaking cunt. Cal’s face burns with embarrassment, and he feels blood rushing south.

You sob out against your hand, pressing a button and the toy comes alive, buzzing against your sensitive flesh.

“F-Fuck… Cal…” You whimper softly.

Cal grunts, his now extremely hard cock straining against his pants. 

The vision ends and Cal just stands there in shock, his mouth wide open, face all red. You moaned his name while pleasuring yourself. His hand grips the toy, stuffing it into his pocket before swiftly turning, rushing back up the staircase.

He makes it back to the rooftop, practically kicking the door open.

You jump and BD lets out a startled boop.

“Cal? Are you good?” You ask, standing and brushing the dirt off your hands. Cal doesn't say a word and storms over to you. He stops in front of you, shoving his hand into his pocket. You follow his movement and your eyes widen when you see the outline of his throbbing cock pressed against his jeans.

Cal pulls out the vibrator, giving you a dark, lustful look. Your eyes widen even more, your cheeks flushing.

“Oh shit.. I forgot I put that in my bag, I’m so sorry-” You start to ramble.

Cal shushes you by hastily pressing his lips against your. You squeak but quickly recover, moving your lips in rhythm with his.

He slowly pulls back, smirking. “I saw what you were doing with this…” He whispers, resting his forehead against yours. Your blush gets even worse.

“Fuck… Your psychometry.”

“Mhm. Heard you cry out my name, naughty girl.” Cal’s smirk widens, his voice low. Your legs tremble. Cal grabs your hand, tugging you into his strong chest.

“And now, I’d like to use it on you. Come, I need to hear you moan my name again.” He chuckles, pulling you with him and down to your shared room. BD shakes his little head and stays in the garden, enjoying his time with the plants.

Cal’s strides are full of purpose. He’s walking so quickly, you have to pick up your normal pace just to keep up with him.

“C-Cal…” You manage to stutter out. He looks over his shoulder, pausing. His eyes are deep green pools of desire. Warmth pools between your legs. “A-Are you sure about this?” You whisper.

Cal just smirks, turning forward again. You two finally reach the basement bed, Cal swiftly tugging you in and slamming his palm on the button to shut the door.

Before you can react, he pushes you back against the wall. His lips find yours, his tongue hungrily slipping into your mouth. You whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck. You tug at the back of his hair and Cal lets out a low groan.

“Can’t believe you…” He whispers against your lips. “Moaning and whining for me while you pleasure yourself. One hell of a way to find out you feel the same.”

You flush, the tips of your ears turning red. “Been wanting you for months… maybe years.” He mutters, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. 

You let out a soft moan, pressing yourself up against his muscular form. Cal’s hands hold tightly onto your hips, his thumbs sneaking under your shirt and rubbing circles on your skin. He rocks his hips forward, his clothed erection rubbing against your core. Leaning your head back, you moan. Cal takes the opportunity to pepper kisses up and down your neck. He finds your sweet spot when you let out a high pitched whine, smirking against your skin. He takes a moment to suck there, gently biting as well.

“Cal, oh Force.” You gasp out, clinging to him. He chuckles against your neck, slowly walking backwards, pulling you with him. You follow after him, already addicted to his touch, wanting more, so much more.

Cal’s legs bump into the bed and he slowly guides you around to sit. He positions himself between your legs, looking down at you, fondness in his eyes. His right hand moves to your head, delicately scratching your scalp and combing through your hair. His other hand reaches into his pocket, taking out the vibrator. Cal leans down so his mouth is right by your ear. 

“Take off your clothes, Princess.” He commands softly. You shiver, a jolt of desire racing down your spine. You nod, yanking your shirt over your head. You undo your belt, carefully setting your lightsaber aside, and shimmy out of your jeans. Feeling slightly embarrassed, you glance at Cal through your eyelashes. He’s just watching you, palming himself through his pants. You let out a curse, enjoying the sight.

Cal smirks and shakes his head, amused. You reach behind your back, unclipping your bra, tossing it to the side as well. Cal’s eyes trail down to your breasts, taking in the sight.

“Beautiful.” He mutters. With shaky hands, you lift your hips, sliding your underwear off. The cool air of the room hits your dripping core and you whine.

Cal shifts, moving to settle down on his knees. He holds the toy tightly in his hands.

“So wet… And all just for me, I’m flattered.” He says, leaning his face between your legs.

His free hand holds one of your thighs down to the mattress. Cal plants a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, his stubble scratching your skin. You pant, your hand grasping his hair, urging him forward.

“Please, Cal. Need you.” You beg. 

“Good girl.” He whispers before placing his mouth on your wet cunt. “I’m going to make you scream my name.” He mumbles against you.

Cal instantly starts lapping at your slit, as if he was a man starved. You squeal and moan, squirming as he pleasures you. He chuckles, the vibrations of his laugh making you shiver. 

Cal slowly pulls back, looking at you with hooded eyes. His lips and chin are covered with your slick, glistening in the light. 

Your heart skips a beat, he looks absolutely delicious like this.

You see him smirk, bringing the vibrating toy to your cunt. You inhale sharply as he gently pushes it in. 

“That’s it, Princess. Who’s my good girl?” Cal whispers as he slowly pumps the toy in and out of you. You whine, gripping the sheets.

“I am!” You cry out.

Cal watches your face as it twists in pleasure. He enjoys seeing you like, all wet and needy for him. He presses the button, causing the toy to start vibrating.

Your eyes widen and you close your thighs. Cal chuckles and eases them open.

“Keep them open for me, darling. I want to see everything.” He whispers.

You throw your head back against the plush mattress and moan. It feels so good, and having Cal being the one giving you pleasure, you realize how quickly you feel your orgasm approaching.

“C-Cal!” You call out to him. Cal nods, leaning back down to place his lips on your throbbing clit. He sucks and licks, showing no mercy.

Within seconds, your abdomen tightens and you wail in ecstasy. 

“Cal!!! Oh, gods, Cal!!!” You scream, tumbling over the edge. Your body spasms as you cum, Cal holding you down with one hand.

After a few more pumps of the vibrator and a couple extra sucks, Cal pulls away from your abused cunt.

He licks his lips, grinning widely at you.

“So good. Tastes just like heaven.” He whispers. He turns off the vibrator, tossing it to the side. Cal backs up, pulling off his shirt. He stares back at you as he undoes his belt, dropping it to the floor. He places his lightsaber next to yours on the side table. You pant softly, trying to regain your breath from your planet-shattering orgasm.

Cal unzips his jeans, yanking them off. His cock strains against his boxers, a little wet spot evident from his pre-cum.

Your eyes travel up and down his muscular form, taking in all the freckles and scars.

“Ready for me, Princess?” He whispers, fingers teasing the waistband of his underwear.

You nod eagerly, wanting him inside of you. 

“Use your words.” Cal says sternly, pulling off his boxers.

“I’m ready for you, Cal.” You say, breathless. 

“Good.” He mutters lowly. His cock stands tall, pre-cum glistening on the tip. He winks down at you as you stare. He slowly crawls on top of you, pressing hot kisses to your neck. You gasp, hands holding tightly onto his freckled shoulders.

He spreads your legs, settling between them. Cal’s mouth finds yours as he aligns himself to your soaked entrance. He teases you with the head of his dick and you whine in annoyance. Cal chuckles before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Okay, okay, my impatient little one.” He purrs. He carefully thrusts forward, sinking into your warm heat.

You let out a sweet moan as he bottoms out inside of you. He grunts, starting at a slow pace.

“So tight, so perfect.” He pants, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. You let him take control, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“My Princess, I’ve wanted you for so long. This is like a dream.” He chuckles, nibbling at your neck, wanting to leave his mark behind. “Love you.” He mumbles into your skin. You shiver, your body flushing.

“I love you too!” You say, clawing at his back. Cal growls, picking up the pace. It’s brutal, he pounds into you, claiming you roughly.

“Ah!! Oh fuck!” You cry out. “Love you, I love you!”

Cal shudders against you, pressing his fingers painfully into your hips.

“Force, you look so cute under me.” He mutters, squeezing your wrists. “I’m close, sweetheart.”

You nod, feeling that delicious tension building. “M-Me too.”

Cal lets out a deep groan, snapping his hips into you. His cock brushes up against your sweet spot, and you lose it.

You come, hard. You sob out Cal’s name as you spazz underneath him. Cal lets out a whiny moan and comes as well, spilling deep inside of you.

He hovers over you for a moment, panting, looking down at you fondly.

“I love you.” He whispers, kissing your forehead. Letting your body relax, he softens up inside of you before pulling out, causing you to whimper. Cal shushes you, kissing your lips. His hand reaches down in between your legs, smirking when he feels his release seeping out your poor hole. He gently pushes it back in, winking.

“Alright, Princess, let’s go and get you cleaning up.” Cal smiles warmly as he collects you in his strong arms. You rest your head against his shoulder as he carries you to the bathroom.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Always have.”

#cal kestis #jedi survivor #star wars jedi survivor #cal kestis x reader #fanfic

[kurayami10]

Blossom

Silver x Female reader

Notes: This inspired by the song name of sin by hastune miku

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: bullying, attempted self-harm, suicidal thoughts, heavy angsty,

Re-uploading my stories is prohibited.

A beautiful baby girl was born into the world with hair color (h/c) and eye color (e/c). Her mother was overjoyed that her daughter was born healthy, and her father was beside her, beaming with happiness at his wife and daughter. "M/N, darling. She's beautiful just like you," F/N said, as he wrapped his arms around M/N and their baby girl. M/N turned to F/N and a soft smile appeared on her face.

"We would name her Y/N L/N, dear." she pecked Y/N's cheeks, then F/N softly ruffled Y/N's small hair and kissed her on top of her head. The L/N family has a beautiful daughter in their hands, and everything is perfect.

"I wish and hope that Y/N will have a life filled with eternal happiness. I hope that one day she will find true love with someone who makes her happy," the woman with the auburn hair warmly smiled at Y/N. Y/N, who was softly sucking her tiny fingers, looked at her mom with curiosity on her cute, soft face.

A woman suddenly appeared with black hair, black wings, and horns on her head, as well as a white flower in her hair. She was wearing a white dress with gloves that formed an "x" symbol. This woman is known as the goddess of fate. She saw a baby from the sky and a menacing smile appeared on her face. Suddenly, she had a malicious idea.

"Look at that adorable little baby! I have an idea, let's cast a spell on her and have some fun!" A sinister grin spreads across her face as she uses her magic to curse the baby with h/c hair. The fate of the poor infant remains unknown, as she has been cursed by the goddess of fate.

-11 years later-

A bunch of kids throw rocks at the h/c haired girl as she uses her arms to protect her head. "You are a monster and hideous!" one of the kids says as they grab one of the rocks from the floor and throw it toward the girl—who's trying her best not to cry in front of them.

"You're not a human like us!" They started laughing at the girl. This is not the first time that Y/N has experienced this in her life. Everything changed when she entered Kindergarten—when the children were giving her weird looks, everyone that came on her path got scared or avoided her at all costs as if she was an alien—even if she were talking to them first, they either screamed or frightened by her. Y/N was only a 4-year-old innocent girl at that time.

"You are a pathetic, ridiculous, and weak girl like you will never be loved by nobody!" Y/N hates it, "Don't get near me, you made me feel sick, such a hideous girl!" The girl yelled as she stepped away from Y/N, and then other kids looked at Y/N with terrified faces.

Y/N looked at the kids who were laughing at her, and she was staring at them with emotionless on her face. 'I hate living like this, and I wish just to end myself,' one kid went up toward Y/N slapped her face, and pushed her until she fell to the floor, while the other kids laughed even louder. "What a pathetic girl, your existence is making us humans look worse!" The boy looks angrily at Y/N who's trying to get up, but the boy kicks her on the legs, causing Y/N to fall back again.

'"I won't think about such sad things. After all," Y/N tried not to let her tears fall, "if I did, the tears won't stop spilling again." She felt her tears rolling down her soft cheeks, forming a pink-red hue in her eyes.

"Stupid girl, nobody in the world likes you, and it's better if you're off dead, no one won't miss you too!" After that, the boy leaves as he reunites with his friends and leaves the girl on the cold ground.

As the sun slowly sets on the horizon, Y/N tries to get up but the pain in her legs causes her to stumble and fall back. She wonders why she is the only one in the world suffering like this. The wind blows her hair as she looks down at her white dress, which has already been dirty from the times that she has been pushed down to the ground by a group of mean kids.

After a few minutes, Y/N rises to her feet and slowly walks towards her home, crying quietly to herself and making sure no one hears her.

Every night Y/N stays up late and goes to her window and sees the stars—where she makes the wishes, 'If only my one wish could come true...' Y/N hopefully looks at the beautiful stars in the sky, then she breathes in and out, and makes same the wish, 'I'd like to have one friend in this world. If my life is a wonderful thing won't be miserable and I just want someone who cares and loves for who I am... Living then would be such a wonderful thing...Or at least I'd like to think such a thing.' She raises her hand up to the sky and stares at the stars as they glow brightly around the town of Valley of Thorns.

As Y/N was leaving quietly and running towards her home, she didn't notice a boy with silver hair and bandages around his face who stopped in his tracks and turned his head towards the sound of feminine sobbing coming from the girl who passed by him. Standing next to the boy was a black-haired male with pink hair who looked like his son.

"Son, what's wrong?" he curiously asks while the boy is still staring at where the girl went. Then the young boy spoke without turning toward his father.

"It's nothing...but I heard someone crying..." As he spoke softly at the last part of his voice, he wondered if the girl was okay, 'If I found that girl again, I will ask her why she was crying...?' the young boy thought about it, he'll make sure if he ever sees her again—he'll have a word with her.

The silver-haired boy moves his head at his dad not able to his father's face as the bandages on the boy's face, and the fact he's blind but he can feel his father next to him, "Father, can we home already?" as he felt the night's cold approaching soon and the stars nearly coming out from the horizon.

His father looks at his son with a grin on his face, "Fufufu, Of course, son, but we need to wait for Sebek to get out of school we did promise to his parents that—we would pick him up from school, besides he almost gets out from school just in few minutes." as he raffles his son's hair.

Knowing the young child wished he could see his father's face, but he can't see, "Alright, father." With that, the father grabbed his son's hand and headed toward the front of the middle school waiting for someone. He looks at his son with curiosity on his face, 'Silver, what are you thinking...hmm' as he quickly looks at his son and sighs.

In the evening, Y/N arrived home in the Valley of Thorns. She tried to enter quietly, hoping that her mother or father wouldn't hear her. Y/N tip-toed quickly towards her room, thinking to herself, "Hopefully, they're not here. I don't want them to worry about these marks. I must hide them away."

As soon as Y/N passes by her parents' room, she overhears them arguing with each other. She decides to hide behind the door and listen to their conversation. "F/N, what are we going to do with Y/N?" M/N asks her husband, looking at him for an answer. F/N looks at her with a concerned expression on his face and replies, "I don't know, M/N."

But she has been in her room all day, and she won't tell us about her day and she also tells me saying that she's fine... " then F/N is saddened for a bit, "I'm worried about her, M/N, she's, our daughter. I want to see her happy..." as he speaks with sorrow in his voice.

'I am making my dad feel worried...' Y/N's eye trembles, 'This is my fault for making him worry about me...and I am making him feel a burden because of me...' she slowly glances up to the ceiling, as her bangs cover her face, and a single tear roll downs her cheeks go away, and walks toward her bedroom.

-4 days later-

A group of kids approach Y/N and they form a small circle around her, and then they all start to say awful things to her that would cause her to fall into pain and cry. "You're a fit rat!!" one of them shouted toward her and laughed, "No wonder nobody in the loves you...aww so sad a girl like you shouldn't have existed in this world" as they continued to laugh.

Suddenly, the blind silver-haired boy appeared in the scene and screamed at the groups of kids "Why is hardly to be blind but brave enough to be brave." And then he angrily steps closer toward the bullies and steps in front of Y/N. "This is not of seeing an act of unreasonable discrimination! Are rats that dirty?"

He continues towards them while approaching, as they start to step away from the H/C-haired girl and silver-haired boy after that they run away.

The silver-haired boy walked toward the girl and gave her a small smile, "Hey are you okay?" The girl looked up at the boy, "Yeah... I'm okay." she answered in a low tone and tried not to cry in front of him.

'This is the first time someone has saved me from eternal suffering from bullies.' Tears rolled down Y/N's face, 'I will never forget this day in my entire life' She didn't know why she felt so much happiness in her heart and never felt this warm feeling of hers.

The bandaged silver-haired boy sees you and smile, then you hold the boy's hand and guide him slowly while he follows you with a smile on your face the overwhelming feeling of the happiness inside of you, "If I could become something I wanted to be, then..." small tears form on yours eyes.

"I want be a normal girl in front of your eyes..."

Y/N's heart ached at this realization, as she was burdened with a perpetual curse that ensured her days were always filled with misfortune and an unjust life. This caused her to shed tears of despair.

The silver-haired young man, who had lost his sight, had a spontaneous idea.

'I desire to do something that will bring you joy.'

He distanced himself from the girl, taking a few steps back, and plucked a white lily from a nearby tree. With the flower in hand, he approached Y/N, delicately placing it in her hair, and offered her a warm smile.

"If I ever had the opportunity to behold your exquisite countenance, I would have undoubtedly fallen in love," he expressed, gently resting his hand on Y/N's cheek. "However, fate has deprived me of sight." He continued to caress Y/N's cheeks tenderly, his smile unwavering.

This act of kindness alert the goddess of fate she saw act between you and the silver-haired boy, and this made her made mad so with a malicious intent, " If you could only see that ugly girl face you have run away and leave her!!"

With that the goddess of fate cast a spell on the silver haired boy.

The boy's violet eyes looked beautiful on his face as he pondered how he could see, despite never being blind. All of a sudden, the white lily transformed into a foreboding black lily.

The Goddess of fate suddenly materializes before you, presenting a black lily that was once as white as snow. With a smirk, she states, "Here is the flower he bestowed upon you," as she gently tosses the black lily towards you, instructing you to pick it up.

Y/N clutched a black lily to her chest, acknowledging, "In light of everything, my punishment…" Tears streamed down her face as she confessed, "I have lost sight of my position and succumbed to love."

Overwhelmed with emotion, Y/N began to weep uncontrollably, exclaiming, "I would be better off dead!" In response, the silver-haired boy raised his voice and shouted at her.

"Do not weep, for I shall forever remain by your side, even until our last breath. This is why," he gently takes a strand of Y/N's hair, "Starting today, you will live as an ordinary girl, understood?"

As the silhouette of the goddess of fate vanishes, the boy notices a h/c-haired figure and asks, "Did you witness that?"

After breaking the spell, Y/N smiles at the boy, fully aware that this is the most incredible moment she has ever experienced.

Following those events, she and a silver-haired boy named Silver formed a bond, with Silver pledging to stay by her side until death do them part. As they matured together, they built a beautiful family and shared many incredible experiences.

#twisted wonderland #twst reader #twst x female reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst silver x reader #twst silver

[agent-cupcake]

Last Rites

Pairing: Daemonic Ravus Nox Fleuret x f!reader (Slight Ardyn Izunia x reader)

Synopsis: Ardyn finds another way to torture Ravus while waiting for Noctis at Zegnautus Keep.

Warnings: explicit smut, noncon, drugging, borderline monsterfucking, slight body horror

Tags: voyeurism, rough sex, size kink

Notes: I did an oopsie :3c I still intend to write for Yuri, but I needed to balance things out from my last story and have been in a monster fucking mood recently. This is a lil dark so, uh, beware.

Word Count: 5.3k

“Chancellor Izunia,” you said with relief, your shoulders relaxing slightly as you finally entered the security room he had been guiding you to. Chancellor Ardyn Izunia turned towards you, his head tilting curiously. The man usually gave you the creeps, but in this situation, you were just happy to see a human face. Besides, Ravus said you could trust him. Not that you really had any other options, and he had been reliable so far. 

“There you are, my dear,” Ardyn said warmly. “I was beginning to worry. Zegnautus Keep really is no place for a girl such as yourself.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said, shuddering at the thought of the daemons roaming around in the dark, abandoned halls. Luckily, Ardyn had guided you past the worst of them. Still, the place was nightmare fuel.

“You came in search of your beloved,” Ardyn said in an overly saccharine tone. “Your loyalty is inspiring.”  

“It’s not that,” you said. “When I thought he was dead-" You were unable to finish that thought so you just shook your head, the emotions swelling up in your chest all over again. “Nothing could be worse.”

“I understand, he’s the only family you have left.” 

“Something like that,” you replied, clearing your throat. Now was not the time. You could weep later, hopefully with your arms wrapped around Ravus's shoulders. “Where is he?” you asked, approaching Ardyn and scanning the room. Like every other room in the facility, it showed clear signs of hasty abandonment, dimly lit with emergency lights and the security screens lining the wall behind Ardyn.

“Don’t you worry, he’ll join us shortly. I’m afraid he’s had a bit of a fall, but I don’t doubt that he’ll be able to pull it together.” 

“He’s hurt?” you asked, your heart sinking. 

“Take a look for yourself,” Ardyn said, stepping aside and gesturing to the screens. You did so, scanning each one in search of Ravus. 

“I don’t see-” Something sharp bit into your neck. A squeak left your mouth, but by the time you reacted, it was too late. Whatever had been in the syringe was cold, you could feel it enter your veins. You turned, pressing yourself against the console, but it didn’t matter. Ardyn tossed away the used needle, smiling. You pressed a hand to your neck.

“What was that?” you demanded, horrified. 

“Ah, just something I borrowed from the lab,” he told you. "Did you know that, for a time, they experimented with breeding daemons? Horrifying stuff, not even I would think up such a twisted test. And of course, no human subject was willing to take part in such depraved acts, they needed to find a way to make them more... amiable to their circumstances."

After the despair you had experienced, after the terror of sneaking through Zegnautus Keep, after everything, betrayal was still an incredibly potent emotion as you stared at Ardyn. “You tricked me,” you accused, your voice breathless, heartbroken. 

“I said,” Ardyn told you, “that I would see you reunited with your beloved Ravus. And, as a point of fact, I believe I can hear him coming now.”

“What?” you asked, blinking fast. Were you beginning to feel dizzy, or was that just panic and hyperventilation? You needed to calm down, to control your breathing. Ravus would protect you from whatever sick trick Ardyn was pulling.

“Listen,” Ardyn told you. The only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat and your breathing. Both of them seemed to echo back to you, like your head was trapped in a claustrophobic space. Despite the rapid pace of your breaths, your chest was becoming heavier. Thicker, like the air wasn’t moving properly through your lungs.

“I can’t hear anything,” you said. The words sounded weaker than they should have, confused. You took a step forward, lurching when your legs gave out beneath you. Ardyn caught you, pulling you upright against him. 

“Careful now, my dear,” he warned. Whatever he’d injected you with made your senses kick into overdrive. The rumbling of his voice was a physical sensation and it was almost as if you could feel every single place he was touching you. His clothes smelled like expensive cologne and the infectious rot of daemonic matter. Colors blurred, lights flared. Heat blazed beneath your flesh, a fever you hadn’t noticed until then. It made your clothes too heavy. Your skin was too heavy, dragging you down. 

“No… Let me go.” You pushed weakly at his chest, but there was no real urgency to the action. Whatever he had given you was working fast, making you too weak to resist. With the way your head spun, there was a chance you’d be too weak to stay on your feet before long.  

“Patience, darling. Patience. He’s almost here.” 

Almost as if on Ardyn’s say-so, the door opened with a whoosh. Heavy, frightening footsteps entered. You turned to look, flinching away from the sight of the massive humanoid monster. 

“Ah, there he is at last!" Ardyn exclaimed. "I just love seeing lovers reunited, especially after all that has happened. They say hard times only make for stronger bonds."

The daemon shambled in, the miasmic black of its body shining in the light from the monitors. It had a horn on one side of its head, the side that was nearly consumed by the daemonic matter, pulsing inhumanly with the beating of a heart. It seemed ot be choking on the viscous substance, letting out terrible, guttural choking noises. It’s other foot stumbled forward, allowing you to see it in full. 

Stained white coat, stained pale hair-

“Ravus?” you asked in a horrified slur, staring at the inhuman monster with uncomprehending eyes. Ravus’s expression twisted, your horror echoed on his disfigured face. 

“No,” he said with a pained wheeze.

“You have missed him, haven’t you? Why not give him a proper greeting.” Ardyn shoved you forward. You stumbled, tripping over your feet before falling against Ravus. He may as well have been a wall. A massive, man-shaped wall. You only came up to his elbow. Dizzy and uncoordinated and weak with fear, your legs did what they had been threatening and gave out beneath you, sending you backward and onto your ass. The pain didn’t register. The fall barely registered, it was as if you had been standing one moment and cut directly to the floor.   

“That’s no good,” Ardyn said, frowning. “Though I suppose he never has been one for romance. I doubt if he ever gifted you flowers.”

You swayed, struggling to keep yourself upright with your arms. Heat coursed through your veins, pooling in your core. A steady, uncomfortable ache grew between your legs in spite of all sanity or situational awareness. It wasn’t like being turned on, there was no stimulation or lust to trigger the feeling. It was like being hungry, or having an especially persistent muscle ache. A problem that needed to be tended to, a primal need for satisfaction. 

At the same time, reality was beginning to fall out around you. This didn’t make sense. Why were you here to begin with? You should have been evacuating, it wasn’t safe to be here. There were monsters everywhere, the world was ending. 

Confused and uncomfortable, your breath hitched. You whimpered, beginning to cry. Ravus made a noise, drawing your wet eyes up to look at him. He looked down at you with an intensity you’d never experienced, an intensity you really couldn’t understand.

“You’re man enough to know what to do, aren’t you?” Ardyn asked. Ravus didn’t look away from you for even a second, staring down at you with a mixture of despair and predatory focus. “Look at the poor girl, she’s absolutely desperate. You wouldn’t want to leave her unsatisfied, not after she’s come all this way just to see you.” 

Moving in ungainly jolts of motion, Ravus knelt in front of you, dropping his sword unceremoniously. You planted your feet on the floor, trying to scoot backwards, but your head was unbearably heavy, your arms trembled and wavered with the weight. 

“That’s right,” Ardyn cooed approvingly. “I’m afraid there’s not much in the way of comfortable accommodations. You’ll just have to make do.” 

Even kneeling, Ravus was scarily tall. He grabbed your hips to drag you back towards him. That was the final straw, your arms gave out, submitting to the weight of your head. Ignoring your weak attempts at struggling, Ravus dragged the claws of his entirely daemonic left hand through the front of your shirt and bra, drawing a single angry line of bright red from your collarbone to bellybutton. He pushed the fabric aside roughly, exposing your heaving chest and fluttering stomach. Even your blood was sluggish, slowly beading where the wound was deepest. But it didn’t hurt. In some ways, being bared almost felt good. Your feverish skin begged for the open air, dank and cool as it was. There was no time to focus on that though, not when Ravus’s method of removing your pants was to shake you out of them like someone would undress a doll, dragging them down your legs into a wad at your feet until he was forced to get your shoes off. Tossing them aside, he finally freed you of your pants and underwear.

Big, hot tears gathered in your eyes and spilled over, sliding down your temples and into your hair. Your bare ass hit the cold concrete when Ravus let you flop back onto the floor and this was real, this was real, this was real, this was real, this was not real. But your body was too heavy, your limbs shot through with lead. It was almost too difficult to force your chest to rise with breath, too difficult to think. Ravus's hands dove beneath the tattered tails of his coat to undo the top of his pants. He didn’t look lustful, he wasn’t eyeing your bare body with desire. With one eye covered in inky black film, you weren’t sure what expression he was viewing you with. 

Ardyn clicked his tongue, and it was like snapping a dog’s leash with the way Ravus jolted still. Ardyn crouched down by your head, hovering above so all you could see was the brim of his hat. “You mustn’t hurry these things,” he said lightly. Ravus grunted, pulling you away from Ardyn possessively, his claws breaking the skin of your stomach and hip. “See that the lady is ready, hm? She did come all this way just for you, after all. I must say that I envy you. When it comes to last meals-” He touched your cheek, pulling your face towards him, “you could do worse.” On Ardyn’s face, you saw the desire that Ravus was lacking. In the eerie emergency lights, his eyes shone with a sort of manic glee. 

“Stop,” you begged. Was that really your voice? It sounded so far away, so detached from anything recognizable. Nothing was you, nothing was real, nothing made sense.  

“Stop?” Ardyn repeated. “I’m not doing anything.” He raised his hands as evidence of that. “But do not worry yourself, my dear. I won’t interfere any further. This is a precious moment.” He stood up, leaving your sight. Something scraped on the floor, confusing you before the legs of a chair entered your vision. Ardyn sat on it the wrong way, his legs straddling the seatback. “Do go on, Ravus. Don’t allow me to distract you.” 

Ravus wheezed in a painful breath and nudged your thighs apart. You couldn’t do anything but let them limply fall to the side, exposing your aching core to the open air and two sets of eyes. He ran his human fingers over your slit, pressing a little further to tease your entrance. You knew you were wet, your body preparing you for what it so keenly needed. What you hadn’t known was how wet you actually were, but he pressed a finger into you without any friction, just an obscenely slick noise and a soft sound you weren’t aware of making.

“Oh, she is a treat. I’m disappointed in you, my boy,” Ardyn said. “You had such a lovely girl so desperately awaiting your attention and yet you still distracted yourself with that basket case sister of yours.” 

Ravus made a sound somewhere between a groan and and a growl, physically flinching away from the words. 

“No,” Ardyn scolded him. “This is the least you can do for her now.” 

Ravus’s body jerked and this time he pushed two fingers pushed into you, curling against your fluttering walls. They had scaled up with his body, longer and thicker, rough with callouses. There wasn’t much you could do other than take it, your body was so heavy it had reached the point of floating, twitching mindlessly. Every nerve ending and sensory point within you was sparking and alive, sending shocks of pleasure right into your brain no matter how minute the movement. He picked up the pace quickly, or maybe that was just your perception of time. Too fast, like everything was moving double speed while you sluggishly stumbled in an attempt to make sense of it all. 

Thrusting and curling, driving deep before grinding against your g-spot. You couldn’t usually come just from penetration, at least not for your first orgasm of any given night, but it seemed like a forgone conclusion at that point. You were just that over sensitized, that wired. 

Ravus pulled his fingers out and tilted your hips back to spit into your cunt. Black void miasma congealed with his saliva, making it even thicker. You could feel the way the globs of spit mixed with your own arousal, wincing with some half remembered need to feel shame and disgust. Then he pushed a third finger into you and your mouth fell open mutely, your eyes rolling up to stare at the office-standardized grid ceiling, the rectangular shapes swirling and becoming malformed. 

You didn’t think you’d ever been this wet, the added lubrication was almost unnecessary. It felt so good it was difficult to know how to handle it, you had no way to channel the pleasure, no way to express the utter excess of stimulation as he fucked his fingers into you roughly. You peeked down at Ravus, half daemon and stoic and terrifying, before squeezing your eyes shut with a whimper. 

There wasn’t much intensity to the orgasm, maybe because your body was too caught up in the constant state of pleasure, because whatever receptors that were meant to trigger that snapping point had been hijacked. But it lasted too long, all at once too much and not enough, like you were craving something deeper without any comprehension of what that was meant to be. Ravus let up after a moment, pulling his fingers out with a slick sound, letting your hips drop once more to the floor. 

You were still gasping and trembling when Ravus’s cock slapped against your abdomen, making you whine weakly. Part of you wanted to close your eyes and will this nightmare away, but the other part was grotesquely fascinated with everything that was happening. Wanted it, even. Now that you had already come, you felt a sense of dull acceptance of what was going to happen. Some of that faded as you realized that whatever process Ravus had undergone affected his dick as well. It was a frightening sight unto itself, a mixture of human flesh and miasmic daemon matter. Smooth pink skin and veins shot through with black, the left side almost entirely comprised of the same daemon flesh that had consumed that half of his body. Not only was his cock much longer than was humanly possible, it was thicker. Heavy. The flushed red tip was already weeping an unnatural amount of precum, it dripped onto your stomach, pooling along with the blood still sluggishly beading up along the cut down your torso.  

Ardyn whistled. “It looks like it’ll be a bit of a tight fit,” he said. “Slow and steady does it, my dear fellow. We’ve the time to spare.”

Your eyes rolled back to look at Ardyn. He peered down at you happily, his arms crossed over the back of the chair. He'd taken off his hat and his red curls glowed like a halo around his head in the thin blue light. 

“I’m… sorry…” Ravus got out, prompting your gaze to meet his. The human half of his face looked down at you with despair, the daemon side glistening like oil. Sorry. There was something important about that word, but you were trying to understand it through a heavy veil of unreality, your chest lurching in confusion at the vital meaning of Ravus’s expression.

“None of that now,” Ardyn scolded him. Ravus winced sharply, his eyes closing in pain. The part of his head that was purely daemonic matter pulsated. When they reopened, there was a haziness to his expression, something inhuman and cold. A sob hiccuped out of your chest, catching on one of your fluttering breaths. 

This was wrong, you knew that down to your very bones. It was too much to even understand what was happening. It was a sensation of being crushed at the same time your body threatened to rupture from the inside, to explode into the open space in a helpless free fall. 

You wanted this to stop, you wanted everything to slow down, you needed to get out. But everything was tethered to your body as it coursed with fever and desire, with a gritty sort of heaviness. 

Ravus flipped you onto your stomach like you were a ragdoll, handling you by your hips. Your head hit the ground hard, a heavy sound punched out of your lungs. The pain lacked any sort of intensity. Cold on your cheek, the floor smelled like uncovered concrete and dirt and rubber. Ravus all but tore off your ruined shirt from the back, and then you were entirely naked, your skin exposed to the open air. Even this position was a little awkward, there wasn’t much to be done to fix the size difference, not considering he was over a yard taller than you. Ravus solved the issue by holding your hips high enough for him to line himself up with your entrance, his inhumanly tall form hunched over you. Ravus had never been an especially romantic lover, but this was the coupling of beasts. He was mounting you.   

“I do so enjoy the sight of young love,” Ardyn said. “It’s a magical thing, don’t you think?” 

The words flowed over you like water, echoing in your head until language itself failed to hold meaning. You were too preoccupied with the feeling of the tip of Ravus's cock pressed against your hole, testing the muscles with a shallow thrust that didn’t catch. You gasped, your fingers twitching where they’d fallen uselessly to the concrete floor.

Ravus grunted, using his right hand to spread the outer lips of your pussy so he could more easily force the massive head of his cock against your resistant entrance. This time, it worked, his dick pressing past the initial muscle. The stretch was obscene, intimately violent. While his cock had looked far too thick while sitting on top of your abdomen, that was nothing in comparison to feeling it inside of you. But even that, the horrible, searing, tearing agony you should have felt was dull. More than anything, you just felt the weight of it, the inhuman heaviness. 

This wasn't real. The world pressed in on you, concrete and dank chill and miasma, and it didn't make sense. 

Ravus adjusted his grip, human hand holding your hip and the daemonic one flat beneath your stomach as support. His claws curled into the soft flesh there, digging in like little needles. The change caused his hips to press forward, nudging the tip of his cock a little deeper into you.

"Well?" Ardyn asked. "What are you waiting for?"

Ravus growled, a daemonic sound. It rumbled and filled the room. You could feel the way it vibrated down each vertebrae of your spine like a shiver, all of the little hairs standing on end. His hips jumped forward.

There was too much of him and not enough of you, but your body just took the intrusion, accepted it without resistance while you whined and whimpered like an injured animal. He wasn’t smooth about it, thrusting in and out with aggressive, tempoless little bursts to bully himself into you. Deeper and deeper, stretching you out with each thrust. Between the oddly slick black miasma, his saliva, and the obscene amounts of lubrication your body was producing from the drug, friction wasn’t really an issue, but his size was. Whatever sanity you had managed to maintain became focused on what, internally, he must have been breaking to force himself so deep into your cunt. Astrals, into your womb. But where you knew you should have felt pain, you just felt pressure. Pleasure.

With a final surge, Ravus bottomed out inside of you, his balls slapping against you crudely. Even they were too heavy and too big, reflective of his monstrous form. Part of his cock was normal, but the texture of his daemonic flesh was smoother than skin, crawling with the undulating black tendrils it was comprised of. Constantly moving, rubbing against your inner walls. All you could manage was a helpless groan, your body twitching in an attempt to escape the invasive mutilation, weakly jerking against him at the pleasure, your pussy fluttering around him.   

“Oh, would you look at that. How marvelous,” Ardyn purred. From your sideways angle on the floor, you could only see his boots, the dirty soles planted on the equally dirty floor in front of your face. “Don’t you agree, Ravus? Isn’t she just a doll?”

Ravus grunted, pulling out slowly. You were entirely limp, he didn’t need to move his hips so much as just drag you back and forth over his cock. There was nothing you could do about it, only whimper and cry and drool and moan because it felt good. You had never been so full, so impossibly full. With the added texture of the daemonic flesh writhing against your g-spot with each thrust, you knew it wouldn’t take much. And taking him like this, letting Ravus ruin your body with his cock, was so brokenly submissive that you couldn’t help but moan at the thought, crying pathetically.

Ravus's hips roughly snapped forward, his balls slapping against your clit again. You mewled, your body jerking with the vague, heavy idea of struggle. Ravus groaned, repeating the action. 

“I always did wonder what sort of lover he would be,” Ardyn said. Ravus thrust into you just as aggressively once again, establishing a rhythm. A harsh, cruel pace that filled the room with the filthy sound of sex, that ground your cheek into the puddle of tears and saliva that had gathered on the cold concrete. “So tense and uptight. I can only imagine how he worked out all that stress right onto you. Or perhaps I should say into you. I—are you listening to me? He certainly isn’t.”

“Silence,” Ravus growled, his inhuman voice twisting the word, his fingers digging into your hips. So angry, so senselessly mean. 

That was the thing that sent you over the edge, although you’d already been close. You came while Ardyn laughed in delight, while Ravus fucked you with the aggression of a wild beast, of an unthinking animal. It wasn’t like you could do anything anyway, but the helplessness while you fell apart was just that much worse because you didn’t really understand, you couldn’t stop the heat or the tension or the way your pussy clamped down around his cock despite the fact that he was already stretching you out painfully. And when your cunt tightened, it just allowed him to grind that much more firmly against your g-spot, your hips tilting and letting him drive into you at a different angle. 

Time shifted elastically, you couldn’t tell if you were blacking out or if things really were just stretching and snapping that erratically. All you were aware of was the pleasure, growing again in your core as he brutalized you with each sharp thrust. Ravus fucked you with the mindless desperation of an animal, and you took it like a bitch, moaning and crying and confused as your awareness danced around in bursts.  

Ravus’s daemon hand shifted to flatten against your abdomen, putting pressure there. You gasped, realizing that you could feel his cock poking through your body against his palm. He was that deep, he had that much dominion over your body. You came again and it was like something broke when the coil of tension snapped, wetness leaking down your thighs and onto the concrete, gushing around him while he continued the brutal pace. The tendrils writhing against your g-spot, his balls slapping against your clit, the way he filled you so completely that it physically distorted your body—by the six, even the obscene squelch of each thrust, even the clapping of skin, all of it caught in the drugged haze of your mind and it didn’t matter that it wasn’t real, that nothing could possibly be real, it was just that good. 

“On her back,” Ardyn demanded, his voice lower now, lacking much of the humor he’d maintained. Ravus didn’t hesitate this time, pulling out and flipping you onto your back while you were still reeling from having come so hard. The world whirled around you dizzily, colors sparking and popping, the darkness physically converging in on you.

Ravus loomed like a daemon diety above you, arranging your thighs over his. Everything between your legs and his was covered in the daemonic fluid, run thin with arousal and probably blood. He was wheezing and groaning—growling when the head of his cock met the slightest bit of resistance, your ruined pussy unconsciously attempting to keep him out. This time, you watched as he snarled, parting your outer lips to once again force the impossibly large head of his cock into your cunt. As if annoyed by the interruption, or irritated that your body would reject him at all, Ravus wasted no time in dragging you onto his cock. You watched with a sort of awed, lustful horror as the inches disappeared into you, more and more until were stuffed full. Impossibly, inexorably full. You could see it when he moved, he was that big, that deep.  

“That looks like it hurts,” Ardyn said, his voice returning to its normal jovial lilt. Ravus pulled out slowly, allowing you to relax a little before his hips snapped forward, his hands dragging you down to meet him halfway. All you could do was moan, your eyes fluttering closed. Ardyn laughed. “Or not.” 

Ravus began to fuck you in earnest again, throwing you back out into the waves of disorientated pleasure and unreality. He was just as violent, uncaring of the way your limp body jolted with each thrust, the way your tits bounced, your head knocking against the floor. He was solely focused on fucking you, like that was all that mattered. 

You weren’t even aware that you were about to come until you were already stumbling over that crest, your inner walls pathetically quivering around his cock, hips nudging forward in a weak attempt to meet his thrusts. It was wet and weak and you shuddered with it, your head rolling back. The ridges of the daemonic flesh tortured your g-spot in this position, it was all you could focus on. You wanted him to slow down, or to stop, or to alleviate the overstimulation in some way, but you didn’t have the words to tell him. By the time the thought even occurred to you, it was difficult to even remember. 

“You need not restrain yourself,” Ardyn said. “After all you’ve been through, you deserve the chance to work out some of that tension. Surely she would not begrudge you that.” 

Ravus grunted, maintaining the steady rhythm. 

Ardyn’s toe tapped against the floor by your head impatiently. “Avail yourself of this act, you’re not a man anymore,” he said cruelly, “fuck her like the monster you are.” 

That worked. Ravus cried out and the sound made the room tremble, the terrible edge of a daemon’s growl coming out alongside his human voice. He hunched over your body to hold himself, only keeping your hips in place to fuck you in a brutal frenzy. It wasn’t just that he was driving far too deep with each thrust, it was a lack of care of how he entered you, his dick stabbing deep inside almost as soon as he pulled out. The pain was finally enough to break past the drugged spell, but you couldn’t do anything about it other than twitch and gasp and cry. It twisted with the pleasure of his cock abusing your inner walls, even the pleasure of your body being contorted by his. 

You stared up at Ravus’s chest, half white and half black, pulsing and ever-shifting. Your vision spotted with dark orbs as your head continuously knocked against the floor. The sole thought of endure passed through your head, the word turning over like a leaf in your broken mind before drifting away. You closed your eyes, your hands weakly, uselessly twitching at your sides. Ravus was choking and wheezing painfully, air gurgling in his chest and throat. His exposed heart pounded recklessly, painfully loud. He growled, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. 

“There’s no need to pull out,” Ardyn told him, although you barely heard it through the barrier Ravus had created between you and the world. “It’s not as if it matters.” 

Ravus groaned, an oh-so human sound of pleasure. Finally gathering you against him with his human arm, his hips flattened against you, thrusting deep with shallow little bursts as he came. With the obscene height difference, your face only made it up to his chest, but you nuzzled against the fabric of his coat thankfully, not caring that it stank like daemonic matter and blood and gunsmoke. In his chest, you felt the noises he made rumbling against you. Daemonic and human, the two of them all twisted and knotted together, his heart pulsing audibly from the exposed daemonic side of his torso. 

Time had no meaning or rationality, it was just you and him and too much and full and endure. Eventually, Ravus lowered you back onto the floor. You whimpered when he pulled out of you with a deluge of cum and blood and slick arousal, all of it tainted black. He sat back on his knees and you felt frightfully cold and empty. 

Ardyn clapped his hands together, a striking sound that made you flinch for its painful volume. “Well that was thoroughly entertaining, but I’m afraid we must say goodbye now,” he said, standing up with the awful sound of chair legs scraping the floor. You twitched, closing your eyes and trying to make some sense of this. Reason, logic, think. You knew your mind wasn’t functioning like it should, and it scared you. This was bad and you couldn’t figure out why, only cry haplessly like a child. 

“Ravus,” Ardyn said, his voice joined by the sound of his footsteps as he passed you, “be a good lad and clean up your mess, won't you?”

Metal scraped concrete and you opened your eyes, watching as Ravus picked up his sword. With jerky, inhuman movements, he stood up. Incomprehensibly tall, he looked down at you as a titan, as grand as an Astral itself. Both eyes wept black daemonic blood now, his panting mouth dripping even more of the thick liquid down his chin. You stared back up with glazed eyes, unable to move, unable to understand. The world pulsed and groaned, the shadows crawling closer and closer. 

“Now,” Ardyn snapped, standing in the doorway.  

“I’m… sorry…” Ravus said, his eyebrows drawn with pain. You matched the expression out of sympathy, your chest aching for reasons you couldn’t define. 

He raised his sword.

#ravus nox fleuret #ardyn izunia #ravus nox fleuret x reader #ffxv ravus #ffxv ravus x reader #final fantasy xv #ffxv #my writing #not sfw #tw.noncon #i am sorry #truly from the bottom of my heart

[obsessedaizawa]

Alastor x Sick Reader - Pillow~Talk

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  Hiya everyone! *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ .・゜゜・ Long time no see! ・゜゜・．

✿ Got inspired at the extremely late hours of the night. ✿ 

★ Reason being? ★

✿ I have a massive headache. ✿

★ I also have a sore throat followed by a bunch of coughing. ★

✿ To sprinkle on this already bullshit of cake. ✿

★  A lot of sneezing and unneeded feeling's of being too hot or cold. ★

× If you’ve read this far I congratulate you. ×

▂▃▅▇█ Please have this cookie as a token of my appreciation. 🍪

▂▃▅▇█ Now without anymore nonsense enjoy whatever this is 

◌ WARNINGS; Sick reader (obviously 💖), Soft cuddles, Heavy use of Swearing, Explicit details of being ill.

Enjoy: 🤧 ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Alastor's POV

Alastor was always in favor of surprises, even the ones that came out of nowhere. Narrow-minded wannabe overlord? Done.

One whom believes they can seduce him? Not even a second thought. What he was gonna walk into? Well he was always in favor of surprises?  Right?

Y/N POV

"God dammit." I shouted to no-one in particular. Followed by loud obnoxious coughing.

I felt like shit. The kinda of shit that everyone hated. This was fucking hell right? So obviously getting sick would be something that would be fall anyone who stepped foot into this realm. I've been here for what? A couple of years, Of course it was my time to get brutally sick. I should’ve known Husk was sick just days prior. The damned cat bastard practically told me without having to say anything. Knowing my dumb ass-self would be too stupid to f i g u r e. i t. o u t.  

As I looked at the clock, it read 6:30 .a.m. ugh- I decided to lazily get up from my once warm bed and make my way to my private bathroom. I looked in the mirror and saw myself but worse. Wow with my raggedy ass H\C hair, Bags that were underneath my eyes, I could of swore I was a man. I mean did I change genders over night? What the hell happened in the last 10 hours? 

I wonder what Alastor would do if he saw me right now. As that thought passed through my mind I felt the strong urge to vomit. I quickly got on my knees, lifted the toilet seat up, and started throwing up violently. ...

What the fuck you throw up rainbows in hell?!

...

Alastor's POV

I started the day as per usual. 

Spin the records, Get dressed to impress the best, and go check on  m y  d a r l i n g  f a w n  before the hotel activities commence. As I put on my best smile I proceed to leave my quarters. There was only one thing on my mind, Ice cream for my dearest and coffee for myself to start the day.

Y/N has been practically been begging me to try this  c o f f e e  flavored ice cream. Usually I'm not one for sweets but it has me curious so this time I'll  b i t e. As anticipation ran through my dead veins I strutted into my dearest quarter's and was greeted by an unpleasant sound. At first my mind was trying to comprehend what I just heard. Just like a drop of a dime there was that sound again. Which only confirmed that my dear partner in crime was indeed sick with some sort of virus.

Let's see what the damage is. As I walked further into her bedroom and gently shut the door behind me. I walked passed their bed and when I came across there figure, hunched over, vomiting out rainbows?

Husker briefly told me about his experience with being ill a couple of days ago. Charlie had to run admissions for new patients for about a week until the drunken old fellow was well again. I truthfully didn't believe him about the whole throwing up rainbows nonsense. No wonder he was being all pissy after that exchange. He wasn't feeding me any over-dramatic bullshit. In fact he was being incredibly true!

I walked closer towards my beloved, I didn't want to scare them so I waited patiently until there was a moment of silence. So I could pull back their hair. As I did so they faced me with a confused and angered look. One that I haven't seen planted on their face since meeting them. Well that was a first. As I was taken aback. Their features soften as they sighed harshly almost like it hurt to even talk. After a few moments of silence they spoke.

Y/N POV

...

"Alastor what the hell are you doing here?" I conveyed above a whisper to not hurt my vocal cords. Alastor started to fondle my hair after that statement. Which relaxed me. Which I know he most definitely noticed.

"I came to check on you. Like I do every morning before I start to focus my attention on the Hazbin Hotel. However I'm going to have to cancel those festivities to tend to your needs love." Alastor said in a soft tone.

I picked myself up in a hurry as I waved my hands in front of me to protest. As I sniffled a little as I felt my vision become incredibly blurry. “No you’ve got shit you have to do. Don’t you worry I'll be fine, besides I'm probably going to be sleeping for the majority of the time you’re present. You'll practically be bored out of your mind.” I conveyed very firmly as I coughed violently and start to lose my sense of gravity.

Luckily though my deer boyfriend caught me before I hit any impact. "I won't be taking a no for an answer my dear, you are far more important then some silly hotel." Alastor replies firmly with soft radio filter. I plea to intervene, He holds out his hand in objection. Without a word or any warning whatsoever he picks me up bridal sided which leaves me too stunned to speak. He carries me to my bed as he claims;

"Yes I was looking forward to annoying Miss Vagatha to the point of corruption.  What matters to me sweetheart is your health and your mental well-being so we can have many more adventures to come as my partner in crime." He lays me down gently on the bed, He tucks me underneath the sheets. I shudder from the once warm bed to a freezing nightmare. Alastor was surprised yet again. How could he know what was wrong usually blankets are supposed to keep you warm right? So why the hell was it so damned cold.

He lifted a finger to his chin as he pretended to be in deep thought. "What are your symptoms my dear?" He spoke in a gentle tone. I coughed harshly again I replied with;  "I'm either hot or cold doesn't make a difference how many blankets I have, I've been coughing non-stop, sneezing religiously, and lastly if that's not enough throwing up rainbows which I didn't think was even a thing until now."

Alastor snickered at my last comment. Which made me feel the need to be sarcastic despite my nauseated-self. “You think this is funny huh? Wait until you get sick then I get to take care of my tall overlord boyfriend hmm?"

Alastor got super quiet and looked to the left. "I'm afraid to tell you this dearest, but unfortunately overlords don't get the pleasure of getting extremely ill." Alastor replied softly.

I on the other-hand was surprised to say the least but also extremely jealous. "Lucky I wish upon a fish I was an overlord." I teased as I rolled on my side to face him, Sticking out my tongue in a playful manner. 

Alastor decided to sit on the edge of the bed. Instituted to softly hum a tune of old, Proceeded to run his fingers through my mop of hair. "Doesn't matter how many fish you wish upon you cannot change fate. You’re destined to be whatever it is this godly space wants you to be."

I yawned softly as I closed my eye lids, to dose off into a deep slumber. "You may rest easy for the next following weeks, days, minutes, and seconds. I will be here tending to you. Loving you.   O n l y  y o u .   For the rest of my death years can buy me. You won't be alone or abandoned my little doe. I will be right here whenever you need me."

As Alastor's hands gently cupped my cheeks and softly kissed my forehead as I fell into abyss of

d r e a m l a n d .

After I fell asleep and awoke Alastor was there. He never left my side. Since my insomniac treasured overlord doesn't technically need sleep he was at my side every waking second.

Need something to eat? He'll grab it in a snap of his fingers.

Need something to drink? Even wishing upon a star wishes it could be so damn fast.

Need medicine? Puts The Flash to shame.

Need to talk about a n y t h i n g ? He's yours he'll listen to you ramble for an eternity.

Lastly need someone to cuddle with in bed to keep you warm? Surprisingly he didn't even hesitate, he just climbed into your bed and kept you warm for hours and hours on end.

He is so soft. He is so warm. He is  m i n e ?

That sentence alone seems so foreign to even comprehend. As soon as those thoughts went into my ill mind. I was reassured in a heartbeat.

Alastor pulled me closer to his chest and conveyed in such a loving embrace, "I love you my dear, When you defeat this foe that's taken over your beautiful body, We will go get some ice cream and coffee together." I was in fact gleaming with so much joy that I squeezed the life out of Alastor's torso and snuggled into his chest.

I exhaled happily as I replied with a bubbly sick tone. "I love you too Al, More than you probably will ever know. I'm forever yours and I do mean that from the bottom of my oh dead soul.” I giggle softly and continue with; “I guess I better hurry up and get well again so you can try that coffee flavored ice cream." I claim as I close my eyes once more to rest.

I didn't realize it at the time, I could’ve swore I felt something wet land on my forehead. At the time I shrugged it off, Thinking that maybe there was a leak on the rooftop of the hotel that would need patching. Little did I know I got my deer beau to cry tears of absolute joy by my words alone.

Once I was cured of my ridiculous sickness, Alastor  f i n a l l y  tried coffee flavored ice cream, And dare I say that he absolutely loved it and went around for seconds.

I'm not one for surprises but Alastor taking care of me was the best unexpected surprise's I've ever had received.

THE END 🦌🍨 ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

✎ How did I do? Did I do well? ✎ Well hopefully I did decently because it's now currently 4:27 .a.m. ✎ I’m   b e y o n d   t i r e d.   ✎ Anyways I hope all of you lovely’s have a goodnight/day ✎ (Totally depending on when you read this dumpster fire)

- Rachael/obsessedaizawa 😷💖

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x sick reader #alastor x gn reader #alastor headcannons #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #alastor x #alastor x oc #reader #x reader #tired #no sleep #need to go to bed #insomania #bipolar

[saffronwritings]

C L U M S Y Series | Dabi

D A B I | P A R T  O N E 

C L U M Y  M A S T E R L I S T

I was bound to make a mess of things -  mixin' fireworks and gasoline. Never meant to make you fall with me.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: HELLO AND WELCOME BACK TO THE CLUMSY SERIES MUAHAHAHA. Its been so long since I’ve touched this series, and I feel bad since Iida’s rendition was actually one of my most liked of the bunch. Which honestly sparked my inspiration to start the series up again. So enjoy this masterpiece of my attempt to characterize Dabi for the first time LOL

Content: f!reader x Dabi

Butterflies are favored among the population as beautiful creatures. They have gone on to even make them symbolize something as simple as the color of one that crosses your path as something significant. For example, purple butterflies are usually associated with the appearance of some important person in your life. However, on the opposite end of the spectrum, black butterflies are usually seen as a bad omen. Usually, they symbolize misfortune and death. What if a mixture of these colors appeared before your eyes - which of these meanings is more prevalent? 

Dabi had heard enough of Shigaraki’s childish whining about how the students of UA had been foiling all his plans. He swore that the leader of the League of Villains was worse behaved than most elementary school kids. He threw temper tantrums constantly and if Dabi didn’t go for a walk he was going to set their base ablaze. His hands were shoved into his jacket pockets and he kept his head down low. 

God forbid he get himself caught by a patrolling hero that would inevitably piss him off enough where he would try and smoke them. If he caused Shigaraki any sorts of trouble outside of their plans he was sure to try and dust him. Dabi was certain that he was only testing the leader’s patience and pushed him enough, but not too far to really push him over the edge. 

It was dark, the only time the villains really came out to play and felt somewhat safe roaming around the cities. At this point, Dabi was tempted to go down to an underground bar and get himself a drink. Things had been rough lately with things not going exactly as planned. He gritted his teeth and felt his migraine growing slowly but surely. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

Not paying attention to where he was walking, he managed to check the shoulder of a passerby. He was about to say something snarky or even menacing to put the stranger in check; he stopped himself short though when he noticed the tucked away wings. He recognized the hero from multiple run-ins with the authorities. You were rising in hero rank quickly - your popularity was skyrocketing. It didn’t help that your looks were just as appealing as your hero work.

A scoff left the villain's mouth instead and continued to move toward his destination. However, he felt a featherlight hand being placed on his shoulder as he tried to move past them. “I’m sorry for running into you like that. I wasn’t paying any kind of attention to where I was going-” You started to ramble. Dabi kept himself forward, not turning to look at you. He knew if he turned even an inch he would give himself away.

And knowing your line of work well he knew you had your connections with other pro heroes. You could easily start a high pursuit chase with one of the wanted members of the League of Villains. He knew he was very sought after in his line of work. He could easily be behind bars at some high security prison; just like All for One was. He kept his profile low just like Shigaraki demanded of his fellow comrades and obeyed orders. 

“Anyways, I’m really sorry for bumping into you like that. It wasn’t very cool of me. I hope you have a great rest of your night.” You had started, “However, if I were you I’d stick to the lower lit areas of this town. You’re too easy to distinguish, Dabi.” You spoke before walking off in the opposite direction. Surprise overtook him with the way you kindly and softly spoke to him.

He wasn’t really sure how to feel when it came to a pro-hero just letting a top wanted villain go just like that. The reward you could have been handed just by man-handing him into submission. To put him behind bars and potentially have the rest of his colleagues ratted out and also behind silver clad bars. A million thoughts ran through his head as he proceeded to walk as if the altercation didn’t happen. 

The fact you had just let him walk away really left a sour taste in his mouth but he couldn’t figure out why. Had you by chance been afraid of him? He couldn’t blame you, in comparison to the Hellfire Hero Endeavor, his flames were almost if not hotter. He could burn a building down with the flick of his wrist. Without a thought he could bring a flourished forest to ashes and soot. 

Yet, your voice was smooth and methodical as if you were talking to a friend. As if you weren’t afraid of bumping into him and facing the usual consequences he would have dealt if he wasn’t on tight reigns that Shigaraki controlled. He was a wildfire being contained and waiting to be let loose once again. He hated being under the orders of such a child. Something about bumping into you though, set something ablaze. A chill ran down his spine as he went on his way and tried to forget the interaction all together.

. . .

Your heart raced a mile a minute with having just bumped into one of the most wanted villains within the country. To say that you were terrified would have been a lie - he could easily have torched you to a crisp with just the snap of his fingers. Just to get a glimpse of his eyes right before he ended you with flames hotter than what you imagined the surface of the sun. Most of the pro heroes your age were scared shitless of the killer who resembled the pro-hero Endeavor; you weren’t sure how much of the rumors were true about the relationship of the two. 

You weren’t even sure how accurate the rumors were of the number two hero Hawks and Dabi being associated with each other. Being a flying hero yourself you have come across the eccentric hero a few times. You hadn’t worked closely with him to know whether those rumors were also true. You didn’t like butting into business that wasn’t yours because it tended to lead to putting yourself in unnecessary trouble. 

When the villain had shoved past you on the streets during your time off patrol, you had every thought of calling your agency to report the sighting of one of the league of villains members. He had tensed up in a way that made you also tense. Any wrong move could have meant your life was on the line. A chill had run through your spine when you had turned around to act friendly. 

Something tugged at your chest to follow him to whatever his destination was because that was the hero thing to do. An oath to protect the people no matter what city you were stationed in - yet here you were letting the villain go without a second thought. If anyone else had seen the altercation and knew you actively chose to not pursue the man they would have judged you harshly.

Not that what everyone else thought mattered to you, honestly you almost went into vigilante work had you not been offered a position with Fatgum’s agency. The butterfly hero, Mariposa, sounded like something an elementary school kid would come up with. Most of the time, you weren’t taken seriously by other agencies. While you had a heart of gold - that didn’t seem to matter in the eyes of most top agencies. 

So, when you happened to spot the same villain, lurking about the same time you had bumped into him the previous week, you felt a jolt of excitement wash over you when you should have been running the opposite direction. Everything about your hero work screamed at you to stay away - to put that man behind bars where he belonged. Death and destruction followed him like thousands of ghost soldiers ready to cause a mass genocide in a war against any and all heroes.

You had raced yourself down the street to catch him casually. When he passed by you without really taking too much notice of who exactly you were you knew he didn’t at first recognize. “You really don’t like listening to anyone besides that leader of yours, do you Dabi?” You casually said to him causing him to hesitate in his walking. He had decided to ignore you and press forward in his walk.

Why were you here again? Was it a coincidence that he was to bump into you a second time? Thoughts crossed his head about potentially putting the League in trouble with his routes out of their base. Was he being followed by an agency or had that annoying bird boy, Hawks, finally give him away? He knew he should try to ditch the girl standing only a few feet away. Yet something in the back of his mind told him you weren’t even close to being a threat.

He had dug up some information on you but was pleasantly surprised when he didn’t find much. Only that you had just recently signed onto Fatgum’s Agency. Which he thought was odd, given your quirk and abilities. Until he truly thought about it - you were an outcast among the flashy quirks and those who had used their fame to their advantage. You hadn’t graduated from UA like most of the pro-heroes around the area. It wasn’t until a year or two after graduation that you took a serious interest in pursuing hero work.

“Doll, I suggest you move along before you get yourself hurt or involved in something you will find yourself beginning to regret.” Dabi scoffed under his breath. Barely audible but loud enough for you to hear that made your lips curl up into a smile. You obviously knew more about him than you led on during your previous encounter - though that wasn’t all that surprising since he was a wanted man.

“You act like I can’t handle myself.” You mused with an eyebrow arched. Dabi proceeded to try and ignore you - your antics being very strange for a pro-hero. He continued to walk past you and head down the bustling street before turning down a random alleyway. Well, random to you, not to the burned man. He knew you were lurking behind him; he was no fool when it came to his surroundings. The man barely got sleep nowadays due to his more recent activity. Before the League he was able to shift between different hideaways without worry of being caught. Shigaraki called him paranoid but Dabi liked to think of it being well endowed in his own presence. 

When he knew he was definitely alone with the hero who was pressed on following him, he turned around to acknowledge them. The sudden turning had stunned you for a moment before you got a good look at him. His stunning crystalline eyes piercing you like precious and dangerous crystals - a look that was impenetrable by anyone to mask all the torment and suffering he endured.

Within the close proximity he smelled like a mix of some sort of men’s cologne and a campfire. You imagined with the use of his fire quirk his already deep set scarred skin burned and filled the area around him with the smell of burning flesh. Yet, it seemed like he took care of himself aside from all the scars and the injuries he’s endured over the years. The staples in his skin gleamed in whatever light would catch on them. His unruly black hair everywhere, falling over some of his face and sticking out in odd places under the hood of his sweatshirt. 

In most of his wanted posters and pictures used in the news, he wore his defining outfit of his leather jacket and loose fitting clothes. Glances of silver jewelry caught your eyes; a chain necklace loosely around his collarbone, earrings that dangled and clinked against the staples in his face, a few rings adorning a few of his fingers, and simple band bracelets hanging on his wrists against his scarred flesh.

You watched him push up the sleeves of his hoodie to his forearms and you watched him shove his hands back into the pockets of his loose jeans. His clothes hung very loosely in general on his body. You assumed this was because of him trying to hide from the authorities. When you finally looked back up to his eyes you felt your breath catch in your throat to see he was staring intensely at you.

He looked over you like you were an object to behold. The antennas sticking out of your head almost blended into your hair and your purple and black wings tucked away but not completely. He wasn’t sure if that was by choice or if you were keeping an escape route open just in case things went south with this encounter. If you hadn’t had these features no one would be able to tell what kind of quirk you possessed. He wasn’t sure of much of your abilities due to not seeing you in action much.

There were a few videos floating around on the internet but none that really caught his eyes. Especially since most other heroes shadowed you; he thought it was a shame. When he finally looked back to your eyes he noticed how enamored you looked with him. A sly smirk crossed his features as he realized he was being eyed up by you. “See something you like, doll?” He purred, stalking over to you to basically push you up against the alleyway wall. A flow of stutters came off your tongue but you couldn’t compose yourself enough to answer the man.

“Look at this, a pro-hero speechless and rendered useless by a walking scum like myself.” He proceeded to say when you couldn’t form a coherent sentence. He grabbed your chin roughly between his nimble fingers and raised your head to look at him in his chilling eyes that resembled his fires; setting a blaze through your body you weren’t sure was scorching you to your core or warming you with hidden desires that itched and wanted to drag themselves to the surface.

“Did Daddy not pay enough attention to you growing up that you want a bad boy you know will break your heart into millions of pieces? Do you want to be so broken that it will be impossible to be put back together? So destroyed from the inside out that you turn into someone like me?” He graveled, his tone even but menacing. He was trying to intimidate you yet at the same time drive you insane. His lips were close to yours; ghosting so lightly it felt like your face was on fire. The heat rising to your cheeks catching his attention.

“If there was anyone who needed healing from daddy issues, I think you're first in line, Touya-” You breathed out but were cut off quickly by the shifting of his hand moving from your chin to his fingers wrapping around your neck. You let out a yelp of surprise and looked up at him with doe eyes that screamed confusion but you quickly realized your mistake. You had gotten too comfortable too quickly and showed weakness. The wolf was going for the lambs throat without hesitation and you instantly felt anxious. 

His eyes were now scorching with the intensity of millions of dying out stars turning into supernova explosions from the sound of his dead name. A small strained laugh escaped his lips and the expression on his face turned psychotic. “Touya is dead and has been for a very long time. Do not think because you’re cute that you can get away with calling me that. The next time I hear you utter those syllables out of those pretty little lips of yours I will not hesitate to scorch those wings of yours.” He venomously said, his voice still calm but his words dripping with toxins.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head wordlessly. He could feel the anxiety welling up in you just by your small actions. His expression softened momentarily before the sly smirk and teasing look in his eyes came flooding back. With his free hand, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he removed his hand from your neck. “I suggest you get out of here before you get hurt.” He said before removing himself from your close proximity before he started drowning in your scent and losing himself to temptation.

He didn’t want to weaken himself further by adding you to his side. While he would love to string you along; use you as his new plaything until he was once again bored and tossed you to the side. Disposing of you like everyone had done to him all of his life. Dabi stalked off and you stayed pressed up the alleyway wall, side eyeing the man as he sauntered off to wherever it was that he decided to venture out to outside of his business with the League.

You let out a small laugh as he rounded the corner of the alleyway, disappearing into the crowd of people; citizens oblivious to the danger that is mere inches from them. While you knew you should stop here, try to avoid the man who is more dangerous than any other man you’ve ever met; you knew you couldn’t help yourself being more and more fascinated with the man with a mysterious connection to the hellfire hero. You wanted to dissect the man and find out what made him tick.

Even more dangerous, you wanted him to know you as well. Pull apart your layers of pain and hurting you went through. You wanted to put it all on the line to just get inside the brain of a man like him. Little did you know that Dabi was already curious enough about you to plan out the next encounter because if there was anything about this man you should have known; it was that if he wasn’t supposed to have it, he wanted it more than anything. 

#dabi #dabi imagine #dabi x reader #touya x y/n #dabi x y/n #mha imagines #mha dabi #mha dabi fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #dabi x you #saffronsmhafics #mhaclumsyseries #im back bitches #and its gonna get ugly #and im not sorry #in advance btw #<3 #you're welcome #also this is trash #and im so sorry about it #:D

[mha-platonic-yanderes]

Settling In: Parentals

Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Clan AU

The room is pink. Well, it’s mostly pink. It’s pink with white furniture and embellishments. The closet doors are white and so is the windowsill. The floor is hardwood brown. But everything else is a bubblegum pink.

You’d prefer another color, one that wasn’t so bright and grating to the eyes. But you don’t say that. You just fiddle with your one dufflebag’s handle. This is all you have left, after bouncing around from group home to group home. A year ago—when your parents died—you had thrice as much. Now this and the backpack for schoolwork is all you have left.

“Do you like it?” The mother of this house and wife to the current number one hero, asks you a question. He’s not here; nobody’s here except you two. The house seems too big for three people, but there are pictures on the wall of others. It doesn’t look lived in; there is no semblance of a family. Though, the pictures on the wall show a six person family. It shows that there are four more people here and you get your own room. In a house with now seven people, you get your own room and you aren’t giving it up.

Despite the pink color and the vast emptiness, you answer honestly, “Yeah, I do.” You do like it, even if it's not for the right reasons

Her hands are on your shoulder. You can feel the increased pressure on one side lift up, almost as if she’d been purposefully holding onto you too tight.

“Good. Now, let’s unpack.” She gracefully takes the bag out of your hand, setting it atop the bed. You sit down alongside it, opening your backpack. A couple of notebooks, pencils, and two textbooks sit inside.

You start to stand, heading to take the materials to the desk they’ve provided. Though, whilst holding a pair of pajamas—slightly too little but in [y/f/c]—she takes the books out of your hand.

“Just relax, [Y/N].” Rei replies, “Let me handle it.”

You sit on the bed twiddling with your blouse’s edge. You wore your best outfit, even though it was just your school uniform, without the frumpy sweater. 

The bed is insanely soft. With satin sheets, a thick, fluffy comforter, and a healthy amount of pillows, it's easily the softest place you’ve been.

“I’ll have a driver return your school books back to your former school.” Rei replies, on the other side of the room. You shift to look at her, but she has her back turned to you. “I’ll discuss with my husband what school to place you at.”

“Alright.” You’ve had to transfer schools about three times since last year. Moving again isn’t a hassle anymore. You know not to hope you won’t move again. Though. you know not to get attached to anything in case you have to—in case this doesn’t work out.

“We’ll get you a better education than the one you were definitely receiving.” You can hear the gentle thump of one of your textbooks. She heads back to your duffle bag; it’s now half empty. “My eldest three all went to Somei Private Academy for junior high. Two ended up continuing through highschool as well. My eldest went to Shiketsu and my youngest is in Yuuei now.”

You know those schools. They’re expensive, private academies. You’ve only ever been in public schools. The wealth was obvious when you were picked up in a blackened car with a driver. You just didn’t expect them to spend that money on you, a lowly orphan.

“Or we’ll just hire a set of tutors like we did for our youngest before he went to Yuuei.” She decides what to hang up or fold. You’ll have to go through it all later to find everything. Luckily, you don’t own much—or unluckily, depends on how you look at it. But you don’t dwell on the issue long, responding quickly to the lady, “Alright.”

She smiles at you. It’s sincere, motherly. It’s what your mother would’ve done, before the accident. It’s something you sorely missed since then.

“You’re extremely agreeable, aren’t you?” She finishes out the bag, pressing it into the top of your closet. Your backpack gets sat beside the desk. This room is large and your things are set in its appropriate places across from it. 

“I guess.”

“That’s a good thing, darling.” She goes to mess with your hair, “Now, for dinner tonight, let's change you into something a bit nicer, yes?”

You pause, looking at your toes in their pristine white socks. You can see her legs as well, considering how close she is to you, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just have to go shopping for some new things.” Rei replies, taking her other hand to your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “Enji and I know what we are getting ourselves into, buying you a whole new wardrobe will be nothing.”

She takes her hands from your head and into your hands, helping you up.

“Where are we going?” She leads you back from your room to the rest of the house.

“Shopping, darling.” Rei replies, “We have five hours to do so, before I must start dinner, that is. Is there anything you want?”

“No, not really.” She’s already planning to drop a substantial amount of money on you and she’s already being incredibly maternal. You aren’t going to stretch that patience thin and have her snap already. You aren’t going to ruin this for yourself.

She smiles at you, “I’ll figure out what you like soon enough.”

===

The shopping mall standing in front of you was not where you usually would’ve gone. A basic department store, maybe a strip mall if you’re lucky would be where you usually shopped. This place however, is at least four stories high standing stark white and black against the almost colorless blue-grey sky. Though, you don’t get to admire it long. Rei quickly pulls you out of the cold outdoors and into the perfectly heated building.

“Now, I say we head to clothing stores first and then to more home goods type stores, so we don’t have to pack the heavy stuff around. Though, if we get too much to carry, we can send it back to the car and then continue shopping.” Rei replies, “Is that alright?”

You nod, still reluctantly going along this whole situation. The car is actually a limo and you have your own room in a massive estate. You have an impossibly nice and maternal caretaker who’s insanely rich. This is your “Annie” moment; this is your fairytale scenario. The shoe has to drop at some point. You aren’t going to be blindsided when it does.

“Good.” She locks arms with you, holding you close. It’s weird, but not entirely uncomfortable. You want to trust her. Your sense of judgement is clouded, knowing that she can’t really be this nice, but you want her to be like this

She leads you into a clothing store, taking you to the brightly colored section. Rei silently holds a peach colored sweater up to you. She grabs an orange skirt, looking at them both together.

“What do you think of this?” She asks, holding them up together. The sweater is thick, 

assumedly warm. The skirt however, isn’t,. You tell her that.

“That’s what some white stockings are for [y/n].” She laughs lightly, “and please call me Rei. You don’t have to be so formal.”

“Alright... Rei.” Acclimating to her is easy. At the moment, you don’t care what the rest of her family is like, she’s nice and maternal and everything you miss from your own mother.

She grabs multiple sweater and skirt combinations, not grabbing a single pair of pants for you. This store doesn’t sell tee shirts or blouses, sticking to a younger, but put together catalog. You briefly entertain the idea of them being traditionalists, but you don’t mind that. You’ve lived in worse houses than one with conservative ideals.

And besides, the outfits are cute. You hope you can keep them if everything goes south.

“Put these on.” She hands you the clothing, “and I want to see every outfit you try on. I want to see if it looks good.”

The fitting rooms are nicer than any you’ve ever been to. When checking the price of the items she’s handed to you, you can see why. The least expensive thing is a 10,000 yen skirt. It’s plain blue, just like the 1,500 yen one you have on now. It's obviously of higher quality, but guilt pangs in your chest at the thought of her spending so much money on you. This is at least a dozen items in here.

You slip it on, alongside the white sweater, filled with gold stars. You look at yourself in the mirror, before heading out the door. Rei sits in a chair, looking at you.

“You look absolutely adorable.” Rei comments, “We’re keeping it.”

She doesn’t let you put your input in. But she’s paying for it, so you don’t complain.

Five more times, you come out in sweater and skirt combinations. She has nothing but praise for each outfit. It’s refreshing. Your last home was less than pleasant.

Rei leaves you to change back into your uniform. All six outfits are bought and placed into two bags, both on her arm away from you. She wraps her other arm into the crook of your arm.

“Onto the next store we go.”

As you all head to a different floor of the mall, you voice concerns you originally had back in the dressing room, “You know… you don’t have to spend so much money on me.” You tell her, then backtrack, “Not that I’m not grateful! I am really! It’s just that I don’t need stuff this fancy, you know?”

“[Y/N], I am your mother now. It’s my duty to get you clothes and stuff.” She says it with a certainty that is oddly comforting. Everything about her is that way, from her soft, smooth skin to her warm, grey eyes to her bright, white smile. She’s intensely maternal, something that you didn’t realize you wanted anymore, until today, “and we must keep you up to the Todoroki standard. After all, you’re going to be one of us for now on.”

Being one of them. You don’t know of any Todorokis; you’ve never been a huge fan of heroes like some of your peers. But belonging, that’s something you’ve craved since it was ripped away from you. A family—that’s what you’ve always wanted.

“All right.” 

“Chin up, shoulders back.” She tells you, “You’re new life begins tonight.”

===

Rei never let you carry a single bag throughout your trip. She also wouldn’t let you see any of the receipts or let you have a final word on anything you got. But, you got all nice things—all things you like. So, you don’t mind.

“Change into the white dress with the red and pink roses.” She instructs, “And redo your hair. First impressions are important, after all.”

You haven’t met her husband, nor any of her children. But, as the pictures on the wall show, her husband is Endeavor, the number one hero. Usually you’d meet the person fostering you beforehand, but with his affluence, there needed to be no meetings beforehand. 

Following her instructions, you rifle through the bags, finding the dress she wanted you to wear. Slipping out of your old clothes and into the cold, expensive dress is a quick process. Doing your hair to a standard that would make her proud, is not. Eventually you get it right. 

Unlike earlier, you take the time to unbag your stuff. You mimic what Rei did in your closet. Shirts, sweaters and dresses are hung up. Skirts, leggings, and stockings are folded in the dresser. The shoes are placed on the inside of your closet. The few decorations you got are placed so that they don’t move what Rei and her husband already got you. She’s extremely peculiar about order. You won’t break that order.

“[Y/N].” She knocks on the door that doesn’t lock, “What’s taking you so long. Do you need help?”

You open the door for her, “I was just putting everything away, Rei.”

She comes in, looking at the room. She pulls the draws out and reopens the closet door, looking inside them. It’s an inspection, to see if everything is up to code.

Rei pinches your cheek, “ It’s perfect, exactly how I imagined it.”

Perfect. She’s praising your work. The word warms your heart, bringing a smile to your face. You haven’t gotten enough praise in your life, clearly.

“Thank you.”

“Now come on.” She tugs at your wrist, “Enji will be here any moment and I need help plating the table. Usually Fuyumi would do it, but you’ll meet my other children at a later date. Tonight is just about you, me, and Enji.”

“Alright.” Relief settles from your scrunched up soldiers. You only have to meet one new person, not five like you assumed. One person is better than five people—even if he is the #1 Hero. 

You’re led back through the sitting room and into the dining room. It’s nice, well lit. It’s low to the ground and cushioned. You’ve expected this from this house. Every room besides your own is extremely traditional. You expected the whole house to be like this, once you walked through the doors.

“The plates and cups are in the left cabinet, do be careful with them.” Rei points to a side room, at the back of the dining room, “I’ll bring in the cutlery. Enji should be here soon.”

As if on cue, you hear the front door being opened. A low voice calls out, “Rei, darling? [Y/N]?”

You freeze, plates and cups in hand. Something about the number one hero calling out of your name unsettles you. Though, somehow immediately aware of your apprehension, Rei places a cold hand against your back. You can feel it through the dress, which isn’t surprising, considering how thin it is.

“We’re in the dining room, honey.” Rei takes the plates and cups from your hands, placing them down and simultaneously leading you to your seat. You sit, legs together and bent to the side. You sit currently in the seat to the left of the table’s end. 

The number one hero—Rei’s husband—kisses her cheek. He towers over her. She was waiting for him at the entrance. You try not to make any noise; you try not to interrupt them.

She heads to the seat across from you, leaving Endeavor to sit at the head of the table. You aren’t surprised; this family gives of very traditional vibes. He radiates heat to your right, still aflame, showing off his powerful quirk.

The food is already on the table. It’s more than enough for the three people here, possibly more than enough for the six people in the photos—plus yourself. You make your own plate, only getting what you know you’ll eat. You don’t want to take too much, you don’t want to be greedy. 

“Make sure you actually get full, [Y/N].” Rei smiles at you. It’s warm and soft.

“I am, Miss.” You can feel Endeavor staring at you, but you don’t look at him. You shift your head down, looking at the plate in front of you. You don’t grab more; you don’t want to ruin their hospitality with your selfishness.

Rei and Endeavor talk to themselves, mostly about work. They occasionally talk about three other people—Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo. There are four children in the photos on the wall; it’s a family of six. Though, you don’t ask about the unnamed child, it isn’t your place to do so.

You finish your food fairly quickly, but so do the other two. You look up at Endeavor for the first time tonight, asking, “Can I be excused, sir.”

“No.” He replies, “We have things to discuss.”

“Oh… alright.” You fiddle with the hem of your dress underneath the table, “What do you want to discuss, sir?”

“I’ll take the dirty dishes and excess food.” Rei smiles at you, “You’ll be fine, [Y/N]. Pass me your plate.”

Endeavor waits for Rei to leave to start talking. You are acutely aware of how hot it is now, without Rei’s cooling, calming effect.

“How was your day today?” He starts the conversation off decently well. You look him in the eye, “Good.” You were taught manners growing up; you know how to hold a conversation, no matter how intimidating the person you’re talking to is.

“That is a pretty dress on you, [Y/N].”

“Thank you.”

“Now then. While you are here, there shall be rules you will follow. Rei and I have devised a fair list and she’ll go over them with you extensively in the morning.” He tells you, “Though, the ones concerning you tonight are: no technology post-dinner and that you shall be in bed by ten o’clock. Rei shall wake you up at seven am tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Those aren’t too harsh rules; other homes have had worst lists. Though, you won’t make a final decision on that until tomorrow. You tentatively ask another question, “Uhhh, sir. Rei mentioned other children. If you don’t mind me asking, where are they?”

“Shoto goes to U.A. They have dorms now and are forced to stay there. Fuyumi and Natsuo have since moved out, but visit occasionally. You’ll meet them when it is appropriate.” Endeavor tells you, “And [Y/N], call me Enji. You are now dismissed.” 

“Alright, Enji.” As you stand to leave, you use his name, “Thank you.”

#yandere todoroki clan #yandere todoroki family #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #mha #bnha #platonic yandere #yandere enji todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #enji todoroki #rei todoroki #canon? what canon? #who was going to tell me that my line breaks dont transfer over to tumblr like they do to ao3

[spiderling-space]

This idea is inspired by @zozobegone ‘s this post 

Setting: Grim goes platonic yandere mode when he realizes MC is going to go back to their world

It is written from Grimm's perspective

Italics indicate thoughts

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

The Great Grimm

Warning: Unhealthy dependency and friendship

"Henchperson, give me those candies!" Grimm ordered (Y/N) after trying so many times to reach the top shelf.

"Aw, you couldn't reach yourself?" (Y/N) had seen Grimm jumping and trying to climb to take the candies. They didn't do anything but watch him fail for the last 10 minutes, they couldn't help themselves as he was being so cute. "What's the magic word?"

After grumbling a little, Grimm spoke coercively, "Please..."

"That's a good boy!" They patted him on the head before grabbing the candies and giving them to him. 

He started devouring them the moment he got his hand on the candies. He thanked them quickly before focusing entirely on his food. They were just so delicious, he couldn't resist it!

"Honestly Grimm, what will you do once I'm gone?" They sighed as they took a seat in the kitchen.

The words didn't register for Grimm at first. "Eh?" He stopped eating for a moment and looked at them. "What nonsense are you babbling about?"

"Hmm? Oh! Well, you know, it's been months and lots of progress have been done. Crowley finding a way for me to return home is right around the corner." They spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That birdman doesn't do anything but whine and pin all the tasks on us."

"I convinced him to do the actual work and he made a progress on finding a way for me to go home." (Y/N) stood up, walking toward him and kneeling to his height. "I'll give you a secret, I haven't told anyone this." They gulped before smiling, "Crowley found the way for me to go back. We just need ingredients and get some tests done then I'll be able to go back. I haven't told others about it yet because I wanted to have something concrete but since you are like my second family, I wanted you to know first."

Huh, he thought.

Grimm continued eating, ignoring what (Y/N) had said who got up and left the kitchen after sharing their secret. At that moment, it didn't bug him at all since he thought they were joking.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

It didn't even pass a week that (Y/N) started to tell the others that they would be leaving soon and ask their help to get the ingredients and spend their last days together. Meanwhile, Grimm became more and more irritable as the days passed by.

Grimm didn't have a family nor a friend. When he opened his eyes to the world, he was in a back alley by just himself. He fended for himself and decided to become the greatest magician when he heard people talking about Night Raven Collage. He didn't have anyone who supported his dream nor he needed one. He would accomplish it on his own and show everyone how great he was. Of course, things didn't go as planned and he got thrown off the moment he revealed his true self at the entrance ceremony and was even threatened to get eaten. What's worse was that when he returned to NRC, showing the persistence of an NRC student, he was about to be thrown again. That would be the case if it weren't for (Y/N) sticking up for him. He wasn't a sentimental monster and he hated to be called cat by (Y/N) despite his catly activities as they called it. However, deep down he knew it was because of (Y/N) that he became a student in the NRC, getting one step closer to achieving his dream. Heck, he and (Y/N) were considered one student together.

It wasn't just (Y/N) creating him an opportunity that made him care about them, it was everything. They studied together; they slept on the same bed, shared meals and snacks, played games, did homework, complained about the school and students together. Not to mention, how much he enjoyed getting petted, belly rubbed and washed by them. They had each other when no one was around and always stood against overblot student together. In Grimm's eyes, they were an inseparable and astonishing duo; even a family he never had, not that he would say it out loud.

Maybe that was why he was miffed by everything that was going on... What would happen to me if (Y/N) were to go back? Become alone again? Get kicked out of NRC? Have no friends and family? No, that's not going to happen!

As the days passed, the attention he got from (Y/N) diminished gradually, came to a point that he only saw them in classes and when they got back. They were out with another person every day, not sparing enough time for the Great Grimm. 

How dare they, he thought while heatedly huffing and puffing on the couch.

Grimm dearly missed the old times when (Y/N) wasn't obsessed with going back. He didn't even receive enough petting last few days nor they studied together. His mind wandered to their time spent together when he noticed something. (Y/N) would leave everything behind regardless of how important it was when he got into serious trouble or got hurt. They would sweep in to save his neck. It just clicked at that moment. 

He would get into trouble or injured to get their attention on him. However, then the other minions would gather around them too and their attention would be divided. It was not something he wanted. An idea struck in his head after a few minutes of thinking. As expected out of the Great Grimm, it was a brilliant plan.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

"Oh my goodness, Grimm! What happened to your paw-paw?!" (Y/N) rushed to his side, kneeling and examining his paw.

Grimm grumbled acting as if he didn't want to tell them. "Nothing, Great Grimm is fine!"

"Don't be ridiculous! It looks broken!" The worry on (Y/N)'s face was gratifying since he got their attention back.

"Ask your best friends," He answered with faux melancholy, withdrawing his paw near his chest and turning back as if he would leave.

"What does that supposed to mean?" They asked, confussion evident on their face just like Grimm wanted.

"Azul tricked them into doing his work and asked them to collect all the feathers on the roof. Ace and Deuce took me with them then we got into a fight and I fell off the roof." He lowered his head for extra effect.

"And they didn't even take you to the infirmary?!" He managed to get them riled up.

"It was my fault th-"

"That's not an excuse! For fuck's sake! C'mon, we are going to the infirmary." (Y/N) wrapped their arms around Grimm and lifted him en route to the hospital wing.

"Hey (Y/N)! Do you -"

"I can't believe what you two did!"

"What we did?" Deuce mumbled, fearing their wrath.

"Don't talk to me for some time and at least take responsibility and apologize!" (Y/N) stormed off before Ace could finish his sentence. Both Ace and Deuce look perplexed as (Y/N) marched away. Grimm was looking at them over (Y/N)'s shoulder, taking in their puzzled looks and flashing a grin as (Y/N) walked away.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

For the next two weeks, Grimm continues with his plan.

"I swallowed a lot of soapy water." Grimm said as he was rubbing his belly, it genuinely hurt. Swallowing soapy water was more awful than hurting his paw.

"Azul! You promised to not do this and shame on you Jade, Floyd!"

3 more down, plenty to go...

"Leona, have you seen Grimm? He is way smaller than you! How couldn't you realize what your claws would do on Grimm?"

"Ruggie, Grimm got food poisoning because of you! You could have just stolen his food instead of replacing them with expired ones."

"Jack, I've never expected this from you. I'm very disappointed."

"What? What are you talking about?" Jack asked hastily but it fell on deaf ears as (Y/N) didn't even listen to him, grabbing Grimm and leaving them standing.

Woo hoo! My plan is working fantastically! 

"He could have died Kalim if it were higher!"

"Jamil, I thought you would stop making people poison taste. Grimm has been puking all day long because of you!"

Grimm grinned wickedly as he was once again carried by (Y/N).

Wait until I'm done with all of you! HAHA, You cannot defeat me!

Grimm was thinking of new original ways to distance (Y/N) from the rest of Heartslabyul, Pomefiore, Ignihyde and Diasomnia. The last one would be the hardest as he had a powerful competitor who also sought (Y/N)'s attention but it didn't matter, Grim would be the only one!

That was what he thought until Birdman came bearing the news...

"(Y/N)! Good news! All the tests we did on the mirror worked! You can go back now!"

Everything stopped right there and then. 

Grimm was so focused on getting (Y/N)'s affection and attention that he forgot about the tests they were doing on the mirror.

Now I am too late...

"My goodness! Thank you! I missed my home so much! I'll start saying my goodbyes!" (Y/N) spoke rapidly, they truly were happy to hear the news.

Happy to leave me all alone!

"No worries, they all gather around the magic mirror, waiting for you." Birdman informed, "Are you coming now?"

"Yes!" (Y/N) said before turning to him, taking him in arms and carrying him outside.

That is not how it was supposed to go...

As they were walking outside before leaving the Ramshackle perimeter, Grimm jumped on the ground.

"What's wrong?" (Y/N) stopped to ask.

"What's wrong?!" Grimm couldn't contain it anymore. everything was too much.

"(Y/N), do you need a moment to say goodbye to the dorm?" Birdman questioned, getting closer to where they were standing.

"Uhm... yes... I mean I spent months here so I should say goodbye to it. You can go, we will catch up in a moment."

With that Birdman walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Grimm alone.

"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" They asked idiotically. 

Are they too dumb to understand?

As Grimm was about to tell them what was on his mind, unfiltered, he felt a power within himself. A power that wanted to surge out of him and he let it since he had nothing to lose anymore.

"You will leave me all alone!"

"But you already knew that, Grimm. This place isn't my home and if I took you with me, you would be discovered and people would do experiments on you." Their voice was so soft as they tried to reason with him but none of them mattered.

"We are one student together, you can't leave until I graduate!" The power inside of him grew even more.

"Well, Crowley said he-"

"We fought the monsters together. We are a team, you called me your son!" He could feel that power getting closer

"I-" He wasn't going to let them speak anymore!

"So you see me as a family but you abandon me!" He felt the power leak outside and he didn't even care about it.

"GRIMM!" (Y/N) yelled, taking a few steps back. "I, I, I changed my mind, we will be together!"

"You want me to have no one again!" Grim screamed, not even noticing how his voice changed. "AAAAAHHH!"

Everything went black for a moment and the second he reopened his eyes, everything was different. He was no longer looking up to (Y/N); he now was looking down on them. They were so tiny.

"YOU CANNOT LEAVE!" Grimm screeched when he saw (Y/N) backing and running away. He jumped, landing right in front of them who fell on the ground from the shock and still trying to crawl away.

"G-Gr-Gr-Grim, i-i-it's me! We are friends, remember? I know you wouldn't hurt me because we are family, innit?"

"It is too late for everything but you are right. We are family..." Grimm said, his voice echoing, giving it more menacing feelings. 

Grimm was no longer waiting for (Y/N) to understand that they couldn't leave him. He had no intention of waiting anymore. He leaned towards them slowly, biting their clothing and lifting them.

It was always (Y/N) who carried Grimm around relentlessly now it was Grimm's turn. Once he was sure that they wouldn't fall, he took off, running away from the Ramshackle, leaving NRC behind.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst grim #twisted wonderland grim #twst mc #twisted wonderland mc #mc/yuu #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland yandere #yandere twst #twst yandere #yandere #yandere grim

[pascalpanic]

Winnie the Pooh Pajamas (Maxwell Lord x f!Reader)

Summary: You don’t see your body the way Maxwell does: you see it as undesirable, Maxwell sees it as the epitome of attractiveness. After a tough body image day, you ask Maxwell if he thinks you’re sexy. W/C: 4k Warnings: SMUT (18+), language, body dysmorphia, food, mentions of anxiety, oral sex (f recieving), p in v sex, brief joking mention of a daddy kink, rare soft Maxwell -> sarcastic asshole Maxwell again. reader is afab. A/N: Well! This is inspired by feeling like shit after a long day, and wanting to get some much needed love and attention. Lots of love and thanks to @mandoalorian​ and @ilikechocolatemilkh​ for helping me with the ideas (and specifically, shout out to Rach for having Winnie the Pooh pajamas just like I do 🥰) Additionally, it’s only briefly mentioned but this is an AU where Maxwell’s company actually did find oil, and he’s successful and happy. I just think he deserves it.

Today was shit. Plain and simple. It all started when you picked out a shirt that didn’t cut like the normal things you wore to work. It was tight and you felt like it exposed your rolls, and the tight jeans you wore felt painfully confining. The coffee shop you work in was busy, leaving you frantically scrambling around. You were bent over a steaming espresso machine for half of the day, and running drinks around when you had a moment. Rude customers had abounded, enough that you ended up crying in the walk-in fridge for a while, sobbing amongst the rising dough. The coolness had only accentuated the heat of the coffee shop when you returned to the floor to finish your seemingly endless shift. Needless to say, you were hot and tired. When you got home, you immediately changed into a pair of comfortable pajamas and slid into your sheets, enjoying the coolness of the satin your boyfriend had gifted you.   Maxwell was a wonderful boyfriend, always showering you with gifts. He even told you that it was unnecessary for you to keep working at the coffee shop, that he’d take care of your bills and do anything you needed. He was the CEO of a newly successful oil company, after all. Money was not an object to him, and he wanted to do anything he could for you. As tempting as it was, you felt like it would be taking advantage. Hell, the two of you haven’t even slept together yet. Plus, something in you was determined not to be a housewife, to break the mold of the 1984 woman. More and more women were going to work, yes, but you were determined to be one of them. Your messy hair is in a ponytail, and you feel bloated and disgusting as you look down at your body. Your pajamas hold nothing in, accentuate nothing, simply loosely sheathe your body. Your breasts feel ridiculously saggy, your stomach feels too thick, and everything else simply feels terrible too. The pajamas, patterned with Winnie the Pooh, make you feel childish and upset. That’s probably why Maxwell hasn’t slept with you yet, you tell yourself. You’re not attractive to him. He’s stringing you along for some emotionally manipulative fun and will probably dump you sooner rather than later. You’re a child to him, being a bit younger. He’s only doing this to be nice, to indulge your childish crush. Normally, you are far from easily distraught. You’re sarcastic and witty, always teasing your millionaire boyfriend. Rare is the moment you feel the man’s power over you, always treating him like an equal, despite his wealth. That’s why he was drawn to you, your sass and spunk and spitfire attitude. You can face anything with a deadpan joke and power through, but the day you’ve had makes everything worse. Your eyes well with tears and you roll on your side, clinging to the sheets like you’re hugging them as you allow yourself to cry it out. A few moments into your little pity-party, you hear something moving in the apartment. The jingle of keys. “Fuck,” you whimper as it hits you. Maxwell had planned on coming over tonight, bringing takeout for the two of you to eat while watching movies. Eating something was the last thing on your mind right now, wanting to stay far away from anything that could make your body feel as miserable as it does.

“Darling,” Maxwell calls as he opens the door to the apartment, his face falling a little as he doesn’t see you in the living room. You remain quiet, suddenly embarrassed by your state, and Maxwell closes the door behind him as he walks in. He spots your keys, knowing you’re home, and walks into the kitchen, not finding you there either. He sets the food on the counter and continues his little search. “Where are you?” He calls out, finally wandering towards your bedroom. “In here,” you say weakly and peek up from your duvet. Your eyes, reddened and damp, meet his and his heart sinks. “Oh, my dear, what is it?” He asks, coming to the side of your bed and sitting next to you on the edge. He pushes the covers back from your head and cups your face gently. You try to speak but your voice chokes on tears, simply crying more and leaning into his hand. He pouts softly and caresses your hair with his other hand. “Talk to me, my love,” he says gently, his heart breaking for you. Biting down on your lip, you swallow hard. “Just… shitty day,” you manage out before another sob comes out of your throat. Maxwell sits fully on your bed and pulls you up to sit next to him. You collapse into his chest, making his polo damp with your tears. He doesn’t seem to mind, just strokes your back and presses a kiss to your head. “Can you tell me about it?” He asks gently, his lips still pressed into your hair, breathing in the scent of your perfume and the espresso of the shop. You shake your head, and he simply nods, holding you close. “Let it out, and I’ll be here to talk when you’re ready,” he murmurs, making his breathing purposely slow in hopes to calm you. After a little bit, your sobbing does slow. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, lifting your head to look at him. You’re a complete mess, and you know it, tears and snot coating your face, but Maxwell simply wipes your cheeks with a tissue and smiles gently at you. “What for?” He asks, tossing the tissue aside and grabbing another, allowing you to blow your nose into it. “You brought food and it was supposed to be a date night and-“ “It still can, my dear,” he chuckles softly, pushing the stray hairs of your ponytail back down against your head. “Let’s get you to the couch and we’ll eat. We don’t even have to talk about whatever it is that’s upsetting you, okay?” He asks kindly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You nod and that earns a small smile from him. “Good. You wipe your face down and meet me on the couch. I’ll grab the food,” he tells you and stands from your bed, squeezing your arm before retreating to the kitchen. You look down at yourself and your lip quivers again. These are your favorite cozy pajamas, the furthest thing from sexy. You had been hoping to finally consummate your relationship with Maxwell tonight, and here you are, in your tattered and cozy pajamas. You bite back tears and wipe your face, taking some deep breaths and a sip from the glass of water on your nightstand. You finally pad out to the living room, and Maxwell’s eyes light as he spots you. “There you are. Come here, my darling,” he offers, opening his arms. You gladly slide into them, sitting next to him, and he kisses your head. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks. You shake your head. “No. I just want to eat and be with you,” you tell him, making yourself smile. He smiles back and nods, handing you your container of takeout and a fork. Even though it’s your favorite meal, it’s hard to eat tonight. You pick at your food, taking small bites, looking up at him every so often. It’s a comfortable silence for a while, before he interjects. “You’re not eating like normal,” he points out, noticing that your food is hardly touched. “It’s your favorite. What’s really wrong?” He asks, cupping your face and turning it to face his. He sets each of your meals aside on the coffee table, that signature little pout on his lips. “It’s nothing, Maxie, please,” you shake your head, not wanting to meet his eyes. You know yours will start watering again. “It isn’t. I know it’s not, so don’t tell me that. Talk to me,” he pleads, holding your face so that you have no option but to look at him. You swallow hard before nodding. “I just… had a bad day at work,” you shrug and look into his eyes, but you can both tell it’s not true. He raises a brow and you sigh. “Just… tough day in general. I don’t like my body, and my shirt felt disgusting on me, and everything is gross about me and now I’m in front of you in my ugliest pajamas,” you start, face contorting as you hold back tears. His heart is broken, truly. “What are you talking about, dearest?” He asks gently, his fingers toying with a loose strand of your hair. You bite your lip and look down, but he tilts your chin up to face him with one ring-clad finger. “You don’t ever need to doubt how beautiful I find you. You know that,” he tells you softly. He sighs gently. “I have those issues myself. I don’t like the way I look on camera. I highlight my hair so their eyes are drawn to that, and not my stomach. I wear big suits to hide my rolls, to hide my arms. I don’t like them,” he admits, swallowing hard. “But this isn’t about me. You don’t need to worry about how beautiful I find you, ever. I think you’re the most beautiful creature to ever grace the earth.” “Then why haven’t we done anything yet?” You finally blurt. He‘s taken aback. He didn’t expect that to come from you, most certainly not now. “Do you think I’m sexy, Maxwell?” You ask, your self-hatred evident in your eyes. “Because I don’t. I don’t see how any of this can be attractive, and I totally get it if that’s why we haven’t done it yet. Because I’m not anything special, I’m really not, I look like this in front of you, this powerful handsome man, and I’m just-,” you’re cut off by a hitch in your throat, hands covering your face as your rambling comes to a stop. The tears are close to spilling from Maxwell‘s eyes as he calls your name gently, removing your hands from his face. His sadness is clear in those beautiful brown eyes of his. “Of course it isn’t, and of course I do,” he shakes his head, his eyes scanning your body. “You’re probably just saying that because I’m crying in front of you, I put you on the spot with that, and that’s not fair, and I-,” you ramble again, rubbing your eyes and daring to look up at him. Maxwell grips your arms, pulling you close to him. “Listen to me, my dear,” he commands you, still gentle yet demanding. “Do you want me to tell you how sexy I think you are?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. He’s serious now. You simply nod. You could use some reassurance right now, even if you probably aren’t going to believe it. “Then I will. I think about you every night when I lie in bed. I touch myself to the thought of you. Is that enough?” He asks, his voice tinged with lust. It sends a shiver down your spine. “I picture you in those sheets I bought you, spread open for me. Do you touch yourself to me too? I wonder that every single night, those perfect lips against mine in my mind.” His hands slide down your arms until they reach your fingers, his lacing between yours. You gulp, but not from holding back tears this time. You nod softly, your eyes looking up at his and seeing how they’re almost hungry. “I don’t care what you’re wearing. I don’t care if you’re wearing pajamas with Winnie the Pooh on them. I think about your body and your body alone. How good you’d feel around me. How perfect those tits would feel to squeeze while I’m eating you out.” The thought of it makes you shudder. You flutter your lashes, his eyes never leaving yours as he tells you everything. “There’s never a moment where the image of you fingering yourself is not in my head. I get hard during business meetings wondering if you’d call me Max, Maxie, or Maxwell in bed. Do you understand now?” He asks, and you nod again. “Do you need me to prove it to you?” He asks in a low voice, leaning in until his lips are just next to your ear. You can’t help yourself: a small whimper slips from your lips. “Please,” you whine to him, removing your hands from his to cling at his shirt desperately. He smiles softly, his chest already heaving as he pulls his head back to look at your stunned face before kissing you deeply, unlike he ever has before. It’s passionate and needy and you can’t get enough of it, pulling yourself closer to him by the polo. “Maxie,” you mumble into his lips, sending a rush of blood directly to his straining cock. “You want me, my love? Because I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmurs for a moment between kisses, then kisses you again. Again and again, the harsh kisses grow even harsher until you’re practically smashing your faces together. He finally breaks away, panting. “Your room, my beautiful girl,” he nods, standing quickly and planting a kiss on your head. You follow quickly, pulling him along to your room, a grin finally on your face. “That’s what I like to see,” he chuckles at your grin, stopping in the doorway to kiss you contently, undoing the buttons to his polo with one hand. Breaking away, you look up again, into his eyes. “You meant everything you said?” You ask, the anxiety still lingering in the back of your mind. Maxwell pouts. “I’d never lie to you, my dear. How could you break my heart by insinuating such a thing?” He asks, hands tracing your waist and sliding under the pajama shirt. “I have never wanted someone more than I want you right now, those pajamas and all,” he tells you, voice deeper, kissing you hungrily. The passion and fervor of his lips are enough to convince you. You moan softly into his lips, the two of you finding your way to the bed. Maxwell pushes you down onto it, making you giggle, and gets on his knees at the foot of the bed. “I am going to make you feel so good that you’re going to forget anything negative you’ve ever felt about yourself,” he promises you, pulling down the elastic-waisted shorts and finding that you’re wearing no panties beneath them. “Power of positive thinking,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee. “Maxie,” you whimper as he spreads your legs, pressing the softest of kisses up the inside of your thigh. Before he reaches the top, he spreads your legs wider and sits back on his heels, simply enjoying the view. “You are magnificent,” he murmurs in a hushed voice before being drawn to your core like a starving man to a feast. He treats you just like that: a feast. Maxwell slowly traces his tongue through your folds, causing you to moan helplessly and let your head fall back into your sheets. You grab at your breasts through the shirt and Maxwell breaks away for a moment. “Take that off and keep playing with them for me,” he chuckles darkly before going back at it, his tongue circling your clit in a deliciously slow motion. You nod and peel off the shirt, tossing it aside. You grab at your breasts, toying with the nipples and sighing at how perfect Maxwell’s mouth feels against you. He slips in two fingers and you groan helplessly, one hand finding its way into his highlighted waves. The other grips your comforter even harder as he curls the fingers inside of you. “Oh fuck, Maxie,” you whimper helplessly, toes curling, one leg resting over his shoulder. He continues his motions, everything slow and dragged out but perfectly teasing. He moans against you and you bite down on your lip to stifle a helplessly loud cry. “Feels so fucking good,” you whine, earning a content hum from the man between your legs. Maxwell sucks on your clit gently, swirling it with his tongue again a moment later. It all feels so good, everything he does. Your eyes slip open in the lust and find his immediately. He looks so fulfilled and happy to be doing this, completely blissed out. “Oh fuck,” you shudder as he winks in time to a particularly hard curl of the fingers, hitting just the spot inside of you. “You cocky- ah,” you whine and your eyes slip shut again. “Gonna cum, baby,” you groan out. Maxwell makes a noise of approval into you and the sensation is just enough to push you over the edge, crying out his name. “Maxie, Max, so good,” you whine, fingers gripping his hair tight. “Ah, oh shit,” you coo, coming down from your high. When you’re finished, Maxwell pulls away with a shit-eating- well, pussy-eating- grin. “How was that?” He asks, pressing a gently kiss to the inside of your thigh. You laugh happily, your head spinning. He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair. “I could spend hours doing that, darling. You just make me want to destroy you.” The words are enough to immediately arouse you again. “Then come do it, please,” you giggle, looking down at him shyly and wiggling your eyebrows. He laughs and nods, standing. “Wait. Strip for me, give me a little show,” you tell him with a smile. “You told me everything you think about me. It’s my turn.” He almost looks shy, a rare look on the man. “Well, it’s nothing impressive,” he chuckles, looking down at the ground. “I’m sure I’ll love it,” you nod, smiling sweetly at him. “Come on, please, Maxie.” That nickname drives him wild, increases the tenting in his pants. “Well, alright,” he chuckles, shaking his head and pulling his polo over his head. He’s not incredibly well sculpted, but it’s easy to tell he’s strong. He does have a little tummy, but it’s endearing. He pushes down his pants and steps out of them, and you raise an eyebrow at the outline of his hardened cock in his briefs. It’s large, you can clearly see, a little damp spot where his precum has leaked. “You are so fucking hot, Max,” you tell him, adoration in your voice. He smiles softly at that, raising an eyebrow and chuckling. “It’s much appreciated, my dear,” he shakes his head and smiles. You grab a condom from your nightstand and toss it to him. He sheds his boxers and dear Lord, you are going to be destroyed in the morning. He’s slightly above average in length, but he’s thick as can be and you lick your lips in anticipation. He catches a glimpse of your look and smirks a little to himself. He rolls the condom on, tossing the wrapper on his discarded clothes. You scoot back to be slightly propped up against the headboard and Max climbs over you, kissing you slowly and deeply. He’s a wonderful kisser, you’ve known that, but he’s even better when he’s consumed by the lust deep inside of him. Your hands cup his face as you open your mouth, allowing his tongue in. He breaks away with a soft moan as you reach down to slowly stroke him. “My darling, are you ready?” He asks, your faces close together. “So ready,” you nod in agreement, smiling softly. He smiles back at that and lines himself at your entrance, his eyes slipping shut as he pushes into you. His mouth falls slightly open at the feeling, and you moan back at the sensation. “Oh god, you’re so thick,” you moan, picking your head up and kissing along his neck softly. Everything about you is soft, he notices: your skin, your lips, your lush body, your perfect pussy. He groans at the feeling as he slowly bottoms out, and you match his noises and cry out gently. “Please, Maxie,” you moan softly, your lips pressing gentle kisses behind his ear. He nods and pulls out just as slowly, almost all the way before he pushes back in. He isn’t gentle, but he takes his time, moving painfully slowly. “You feel so good, so so good,” you whimper, flicking your tongue across the shell of his ear. Maxwell lets out a genuine moan, his hips speeding up ever so slightly. One of his hands moves to trace circles into your clit with two fingers, in time with the thrusts he pushes into you. It feels perfect, the man’s strength evident in how he thrusts. “I love your body, my dear,” he mumbles as he pushes in and out of you. “You are so beautiful. Not a single flaw on the entire thing. So tight around me, so soft,” he shudders as you unintentionally clench around him. “So tight,” he nearly hisses, his fingers working harder into your clit. “You make me feel so good,” you nod frantically as his head drops to kiss along the curve of your neck. “You’re so strong, so good at this- fuck, so good,” you moan as he hits your g-spot perfectly in time with his fingers. “Ah, right there, hm?” He chuckles breathlessly, thrusting at just the same angle and earning a strangled cry from you. “Right- there-,” he grunts with harder and harder thrusts, pushing harder and harder against that perfect spot. “Maxie, please,” you cry now, tears leaking from the corner of your eyes. “I’m gonna- fuck, I want you to come with me. Want you to feel what I feel,” you whine, frantically grabbing at his back. “I’m close too, my love,” he murmurs, thrusting harder. “Come on, cum with me,” he nods. His words are all you need, his tone triggering the release as your walls flutter around him. The sensation causes him to let go too, finally feeling the perfection of his orgasm. He keeps thrusting against the spot he knows makes you weak, shuddering as he feels you gushing around him. Once you’ve both finished, he slows down and sighs, pulling out of you and lying next to you in your bed. He’s flushed and sweating, and he looks absolutely perfect. “Maxie,” you coo, resting your head on his chest and pressing a kiss to his warm skin. “That was… fantastic,” you admit, already missing the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you out. Max smiles, eyes fluttering shut. “You, my dear, felt absolutely amazing,” he chuckles softly, wrapping an arm around you, the other going under his head. He presses a kiss to your hair, smiling softly. “I hope you know I’m not done with you yet. I told you I was going to prove to you just how sexy I think you are, and we’re going through with it.” You laugh a little, noticing how tired he already seems. “Okay, old man,” you tease, and he swats your ass lightly. “Watch your words,” he laughs, kneading at the skin he just smacked. “I might have to get mean with you,” he half-teases, raising his eyebrows as he looks at you. “I wouldn’t mind being absolutely destroyed tonight,” you smile innocently, scrunching your nose and bringing your face close to his. “Daddy,” you say flirtatiously, wiggling your eyebrows. Max’s smirk grows even wider. “Oh no, now you’re asking for it,” he chuckles, giving your ass another little slap and smiling at your reaction. “Careful, my dear,” he murmurs before bringing your face to his to kiss him deeply. He’s already deeply aroused again, you can tell from the way he’s kissing you, and you giggle as you break away. “Mm, there’s your usual self,” he says with a grin and rubs your lower back. “I’m glad to see it. I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into you more often,” he winks, laughing at the fake gasp you give. “You asked me if you thought I was sexy, I gave you my answer,” he says defensively, smiling still. “Even in those Winnie the Pooh pajamas, you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, darling,” he tells you earnestly before pressing one more kiss to your lips.

#maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord #WW84 #wonder woman 1984 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Better Now

A Bla/ck Tap/es podcast sickfic.

I have so many wonderful prompts in my inbox but the only thing I  wanted to write was this wildly self-indulgent and overly long fic that's jam-packed with all my favorite tropes. I blame @matilda3948 for her recent amazing Dr. Strand sickfics for inspiration and @sanquintina for getting me into the podcast in the first place

This is technically Bl/ack Ta/pes fanfic, but you don't need to know anything about the series other than Dr. Strand is a persnickety, serious, stoic, skeptic with a very deep voice and troubled past. 

Set after the end of the series as it stands currently and written in 1st person from the perspective of Strand's unnamed female partner. Could be Alex if you want, could be someone else with whom Strand finally found happiness and contentment. I kept that part generic on purpose.

Richard Strand is many things, but clumsy isn't one of them. So naturally I had to go investigate when early one morning I was startled by the sound of a tea mug shattering on the floor followed by a hastily bitten-off swear word.

In the kitchen I found my husband, the world renowned Dr. Strand, kneeling on the floor mopping up spilled tea. He glanced up with a sniffle as he heard me approach.

"Had it too close to the edge. At least it missed my pants. I think I got all the ceramic bits, but be careful."

His voice was even deeper than usual, low and gravelly from the cold he'd been developing over the past few days. That, paired with his heavy, reddened eyes and generally haggard appearance, gave me concern.

"You look like you hardly slept. How are you feeling?"

"I tossed and turned a bit last night. Couldn't get comfortable."

"Couldn't breathe I think would be more accurate. You were snoring and breathing through your mouth all night."

He sat back on his heels and frowned. "Sorry if I kept you up."

"You don't have to apologize. I'm just worried about you," I added as he winced when he stood, massaging the space between his eyebrows.

He shot me another irritated glance. "I'm fine. I just have a bit of a cold." I couldn't help but notice the weary slump of his shoulders, however. Even his suit looked less crisp than usual. 

I summoned all my wifely tact and tried to make my voice persuasive: "Maybe you should stay home. You don't look like you'll be much use to anyone today."

He made an annoyed sound. "That's very unnecessary. I'm not staying home for a cold."

I looked pointedly out the window where a chilly November rain was pouring down steadily. "You really want to go out into that when you have a perfectly valid excuse not to?"

He too glanced out the window. After a moment he shook his head and cleared his throat, meeting my eyes again. "I'll be fine. It's just a little rain."

He headed toward the door, massaging his forehead once more.

"Don't you want your tea?"

"Oh, right." He whirled around quickly, grabbed the thermos, and headed toward the door again with a wet sniffle. I could only roll my eyes and sigh as the door closed behind him.

Most workdays I left after him and returned before him, and this Thursday was no exception. The rain was still pouring down when I arrived home from work that evening. I decided dinner was going to be vegetable stew and biscuits, not only for his cold, but also because I wanted some rainy November comfort food. Everything was nearly ready when I heard him coming up the steps. He opened the door, bringing with him a chilly gust, and I turned to greet him, but instead my mouth dropped open a bit at the sight of him. 

His hair and clothes were completely soaked with rain, to the point of dripping puddles onto the floor as I watched, and he was visibly shivering, something I'd never seen him do before. Inexplicably, he was also shaking the loose drops off of his soaked umbrella, his expression drawn and miserable. I was noticing how diminished he seemed when suddenly his breath hitched violently:

"HehZIHH'shiew! HrrUUHHZchoo! HehhGIHH'nkkchoo!"

I rushed to his side, relieving him of his umbrella and briefcase and pulling his sodden coat off of him as he slumped down onto the nearby stool. Beneath the coat, his suit was nearly just as wet and cold.

"Oh, Richard, bless you! You're soaked to the skin. Ugh, and your hands are freezing. How did you manage to get so drenched?"

"A w-woman and her ch-children were w-waiting for the b-bus without c-coats. I held my umbrella f-for them until it c-came," he said, his teeth chattering and his lips blue with cold. 

I toweled off his hair and clothes as best as I could before helping him undress. Any other day he would have brushed me off, saying he was perfectly capable of doing that himself. The fact that he allowed me to assist him spoke volumes to how poorly he felt. 

I was behind him, trying to peel off his sodden linen shirt when he lurched forward for another volley of sneezes:

"HrrUUSCHH! HnnxXT! HHGGTchh!"

"Bless you again, poor love. You've made your cold worse going out in this," I gently chastised.

"I'm f-fine," he sniffled, still barely able to speak around his shivering. Yet he leaned back against me wearily as I removed his undershirt and replaced it with a blanket, and I thought I heard the softest hint of a groan.

I used my fingers to comb his disheveled hair, but frowned when I felt his forehead. "You're running a fever. You weren't feverish this morning."

He merely shrugged, wordlessly asking me to continue massaging his scalp, which I did. Slowly his shivers subsided, but he was clearly exhausted, and sniffled wetly every few moments. 

"You look like you could use a hot drink and a warm bed," I said eventually.

"I'd start with a hot shower," came the mumbled reply.

"Hmm… what about a hot bath? I was thinking of taking one myself tonight, and I'm willing to share. No reason to waste the hot water. Dinner will keep for a bit longer."

He turned slightly, giving me a curious look. It wasn't that we had never bathed together before, but it was usually under very different circumstances. However, I happened to know my husband craved physical touch when he wasn't feeling well, though he would never ask for it. I was simply making life easier on both of us by preemptively offering it. 

"I suppose that might be nice," he finally said. "But I'm very tired…."

I kissed his cheek. "No strings attached. Bath only. Then dinner and sleep. No funny business, I promise."

He relaxed slightly. "That's fine then."

"Good. Let me go run the water." I kissed his hair once more, then headed to the bathroom. He joined me there with a cup of tea after a few minutes. While the oversized tub finished filling, he leaned in the doorway, rubbing the back of his neck and looking distant and hazy, not to mention sick.

I shimmied off my clothes and slid into the water, gesturing for him to join me. He sluggishly obeyed, hampered in finishing his own undressing by his dripping nose. He set his mug of tea and a handkerchief on the little table beside the tub, then slid into the water in front of me.

His sigh of ecstasy as the hot water surrounded him was exactly what I hoped to hear, and he leaned back against me readily with a satisfied groan.

"Better?" I murmured in his ear.

"Much," came the rumbling reply, followed of course by a sniffle. 

I pressed my lips into his hair again and again. He hardly moved as the heat soaked into him. I let my nails trail all over his skin and gave him a gentle massage, trying to help him relax, a feat he was rarely able to accomplish on his own

"Would you like me to wash your hair?" I murmured after a while.

He gave the barest nod in reply. Wordlessly I did just that, something else he would never consider allowing in any other circumstance.

I kept the soap far from his face, but the fragrance still had its way with him. I had nearly all the suds rinsed out when he suddenly jerked forward and leaned over the edge of the tub.

GihhIIISSHH'UH! Hhigg'CHUH! HihYEHSH'ooo!" He directed the spray as far away from me as he could, grabbing for the handkerchief to catch as much of the mess as possible. He mopped his face with a growl as he slid back into the water, but the spell was broken. He fidgeted against me, sniffling in irritation again and again as I finished rinsing his hair. 

I suppressed a disappointed sigh. "You might feel better if you went and laid down now that you're warmed up. Get yourself a bowl of soup while I finish up here."

He grunted his assent, lifting himself out of the water and quickly toweling off as he began to shiver again right away. He donned his robe, took his tea, and went to get his supper.

The evening came to a quick close after that. Richard ate a small portion of soup, drank two mugs of tea, and refused any medication, but did little else. He wouldn't be described as loquacious on his best day, but he spoke even less than usual. The only noise he made was the occasional soft cough or explosive trio of sneezes and his perpetual sniffles as he attempted his usual evening reading. His eyes never lost their weary, hazy look though, and he was constantly shaking his head or wiping a knuckle under his nose, so I wondered how much he was actually absorbing.

When I suggested we go to bed, he didn't argue though, which was very unlike him. He fell into bed wearily, and it seemed he was asleep even before his head hit the pillow. I silently wished to myself as I drifted to sleep that he would either be recovered in the morning, or else have the sense to stay home if he was worse.

~~~~~~~~~~

Richard's alarm went off at the usual hour the next morning, and he shut it off right away. Normally he was out of bed in moments, but today he lingered, pulling the blankets closer around himself with a little groan.

I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but he continued to shift restlessly. After a moment, I heard him take a wheezy inhale and then break into a coughing fit, wet and hoarse. I turned to look at him again. He was on his back now, with an arm flung over his eyes.

"Aww, love," I murmured. "You ok?"

"I'm not feeling quite like myself," came the mumbled reply.

I reached out to stroke his cheek, letting my hand rest on his neck where I could feel his hugely swollen lymph nodes. He was well and truly sick now, and he needed to stay home from work. However, I couldn't be the one to suggest that, or else he would turn me down immediately and insist he was fine, as he had the day before. It needed to be his idea. I went with a different approach.

I nestled close to his side, kissing his shoulder softly. I could tell he was still feverish even through his clothes. "Busy day today?" I murmured.

He grunted wearily. I couldn't tell if it was affirmative or negative.

"I packed a big bowl of soup for your lunch. I hope it's enough to keep you full through the whole day. And don't forget, I'll meet you at your coworker's reception tonight. Was there anything I needed to bring to that?"

He slowly uncovered his face. "I was… actually considering staying home from work. It shouldn't be busy today, I can afford to miss. And… I'm really not feeling well at all. I'll make our excuses to John about his reception. 

I did a silent victory dance in my head. "Oh, are you sure? I thought you had some important meetings."

"Nothing that can't be rescheduled." He cracked a red eye open, glancing at me suspiciously. "Why? Do you want me to go in?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, kissing him again. "I want you to do what you think is best. If you're not feeling well, you ought to stay home so you don't risk getting other people sick though."

"I suppose." He coughed hoarsely again, rubbing his chest with a grimace. "Yes, I'll stay home today. Let me call Carol and John."

He slowly stood and made his unsteady way to his phone, sniffling and coughing the whole way. The two phone conversations were very brief, for he hardly had to try to make a case for his illness, congested and hoarse as he clearly was. After he finished the calls, he shuffled back to bed immediately, heaping the blankets back over himself with a shuddering cough. I rubbed his back as he got settled.

"Can I get you anything, hon? Water, medicine?"

He shook his head. "Going to try to sleep this off," he mumbled, sleep already (or still?) heavy in his voice.

I knew medicine would almost certainly help his endeavors at sleeping. At minimum it would improve the quality of his sleep. However, I also knew he was stubborn about such things, so I didn't press the issue yet. "Alright." I kissed his hot cheek gently. "Then I'll leave you be for now. Let me know if you need anything. Sleep well."

I made the bed around him, straightening my side and tucking him in, then quietly left. The sound of his deep snores followed me out. So much for me sleeping in today.

He emerged again later that morning. I didn't notice him at first when he did, though. I had my headphones in and was dancing around while dusting. Turning around, I almost bumped into him, scaring us both. I yanked my headphones off right away, taking in his disheveled, sickly, blanket-wrapped appearance.

"You're awake! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come out."

"Clearly," he rasped with the tiniest ghost of a smile. "You stayed home too?"

"It's my normal Friday off."

"Right, right," he sniffled. He then shuffled to the couch, collapsing onto it with a yawn. I went to sit beside him, unable to keep the concern from my face. I felt his forehead again, noting how he wearily leaned into the touch. I was forced to jump back though as he erupted into a volley of thick, chesty coughs. 

I sighed, surveying him with worry. "You're running quite the fever, love. And the cold has obviously settled into your chest now too."

He nodded limply with another sniffle.

"I'm not taking no for an answer this time, I'm giving you medicine and you're going to take it."

He managed to fix me with a condescending look. "Medication for a cold is essentially pointless. It just treats the symptoms."

"You think making yourself more comfortable is pointless?"

He opened his mouth to answer, or so I thought, but instead he lurched forward into a trio of wet, spraying sneezes:

"Heh'YEISSHH'oo! YEEIISH'uuh! Gih'HIH-shoo! --ugh…" The forceful snapping motion of his head when he sneezed looked incredibly painful, so much so that he pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead with a groan in the aftermath.

"Bless you, hon!" I waited a beat as he composed himself. "So… what was it again you were saying about the futility of treating the symptoms?" I asked, admittedly snidely.

He only grunted softly. I couldn't keep the smug look from my face when he met my eyes once more. However, seeing how thoroughly miserable he was reawakened my sympathy immediately. I reached out to caress his hair and cheek yet again.

"How about I make you some tea, yeah? And maybe a bowl of soup?"

"Please," he mumbled.

"Coming right up."

Another round of his thick, exhausting coughs followed me into the kitchen, and I couldn't help but wince in sympathy, even though he couldn't see me.

In a matter of minutes I had his meal ready. When I brought it back out to him, I placed the soup on the table and dropped a handful of pills and a capful of medication beside the bowl with a meaningful look. His only reply was a small frown. I resumed my seat beside him and was about to hand him the steaming mug when an idea occurred to me.

"Is your throat hurting badly?"

He nodded heavily with a little scowl, as if he hated being reminded of it.

"Here, this may help a bit." I raised the mug to the level of his neck, pressing it against his visibly enlarged lymph node.

His eyes widened and he half-jumped back from the initial sensation. 

"Trust me for a sec," I said gently, placing it against the swelling once more.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, but allowed it. After a moment though he visibly loosened. Making a sound between a whimper and a groan, he leaned harder against the heat. 

"Better?"

"Mhmmmm," he sighed.

After another moment I switched to the other side of his neck and repeated the process. He angled himself here and there to get the most heat coverage over the tender areas. Finally I slid the mug into his hands, kissing his forehead.

"Thank you," he breathed. "That was… relieving."

"You're very welcome. Now, can I do anything else for you at the moment?" 

"I'm fine. You don't need to fuss."

"I may not have to, but I want to, first because you're my husband and second because I know you're not 'fine.' But if you're going to insist you are, I'm going to go fold some laundry. Holler if you need anything. Or cough loudly if that's easier."

That earned me a Dr. Strand signature, the 'amused huff.' "I will. Thank you again."

"No thanks necessary." He received another kiss to the temple before I stood and headed to the laundry room with a last pointed look at the medicine. It occurred to me as I walked away that I was likely giving him an overabundance of kisses considering how contagious he clearly was, but he was just so darn pitiful.

Twenty minutes later, I returned to check on him, bringing a glass of water as well. The tea mug and soup bowl sat empty on the coffee table, surrounded by a few scattered tissues. The medicine was untouched. The doctor was huddled to one side of the couch with another tissue held loosely in his hand and one pajama-clad leg tucked under him, staring listlessly at the wall. However, at the sound of my footsteps he stirred with a sickly sniffle, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily. I smiled in greeting, and though he didn't return the smile, he did brighten a bit upon seeing me.

"What were you contemplating so deeply just now? You looked very lost in thought," I asked, handing him the water, then tidying up his little mess on the coffee table, leaving the pills.

He huffed a humorless laugh, looking self-conscious as he fiddled with the glass. "I was actually imagining how extensive the trial and error process must have been to determine how best to brew tea versus brewing coffee versus, for example, brewing beer. Roasting the ingredients versus drying versus fresh versus ground and boiling versus steeping versus fermenting. The amount of time that must have been necessary to perfect something so simple is rather astounding," he rasped, with many sniffles and throat-clearings thrown in.

I raised an eyebrow at him curiously. Aimless ramblings about random topics were not the norm for my painfully disciplined husband. "It is astounding I guess. I'd never thought about that before. Anyway, how are you feeling after eating?" 

"I'm fine," he said, finally setting down the untouched water, though the nasty cough that immediately followed his statement contradicted him.

This time I audibly sighed. "You do realize that you saying you're fine all the time is very counterproductive to helping me assess your needs? You don't have to be fine, love."

He gave me an odd look. "Conceptually, I know that. But you have to remember, for a long time I *did* have to be 'fine.' I didn't have the option to be otherwise. You, all of this… still feels like a new development or a dream at times. Old habits die hard, I suppose."

I sat on the arm of the couch beside him. He wordlessly leaned in toward me so I could lightly run my fingernails over his scalp. He softly groaned in pleasure.

"I'm not going to waste my breath telling you that I'm not going anywhere and I'm here for you, because you already know that. So I suppose I'll just have to keep showing you." 

I went to press a kiss to his head, but I caught a glimpse of his face and changed my mind when I saw he was about to sneeze.

"Gihh'chuuh! Hehh'choof! Ghnxt'choo!"

The sneezes were brisk and wet and left him breathless. He blew his nose with a wince before he spoke. "Sorry, could you repeat that? I missed most of it," he said, sounding stuffy and a little peeved.

I chuckled and complied, going for the kiss this time. He had no reply, but instead leaned against me wearily as I massaged his neck, yawning deeply. 

"You should rest again, love. Take a nap if you can. It's either that or watch TV, which you'll never do. I'm not sure you should attempt much else."

He wrinkled his nose. "I hate being so unproductive. I don't want to sleep the day away."

"Sleeping when you're sick isn't being unproductive, it's being wise."

"HehhGIH'choo! HEHHH-choo! Hihhh'YESSHH'uuhh!"

I was quite sure he didn't hear most of my statement, since he sneezed right in the middle of it. With a pitiful sound he tended to his nose yet again as I blessed him earnestly. Eventually his watery, heavy lidded eyes met mine. I couldn't help but notice yet again how flushed and disheveled he was and how utterly pathetic he looked, quite the opposite of his usual cool, collected self. 

"Guh. Sorry. What was that?" he asked with a pathetic sniffle, sounding very annoyed now.

"Aww, your nose. You really are sick, huh? Poor guy," I said, continuing to stroke his hair. 

He looked slightly offended. "You were having doubts about that?" 

I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "It's just something you say, dear. 

"I'm aware of the colloquialism," he grumped. "But I find it a very odd one. And it's never been directed at me before."

"There's a first time for everything, then."

I was rubbing his back now. He yawned again, grimacing after, I assumed due to the sore throat. I also noticed he was starting to shiver.

"Ok, now seriously, tell me what I need to do to convince you to nap."

"I'm not sure," he said with a chesty cough, nestling deeper into the couch.

"Hmm. I accept that challenge." 

"And what challenge is that?"

"You won't tell me what I can do to help you, and perhaps you don't even know yourself, so I have to figure that out for both of us."

"I don't think there's anything I need though."

"You need to sleep."

He rolled his eyes with an annoyed huff, but I could tell he knew I was right.

I stood and went to put some smooth jazz on the record player in the room. Sitting down again, this time on the couch on the other side of him, I gestured to my lap.

"Come lie down."

"Wait-- lie down… right there?"

"Correct."

"Why?"

"Because you love hair scratches and neck rubs, so I'm making it easier to give them to you. Also you're apparently freezing and need to share some body heat."

He frowned, suppressing his shivers as best he could. Still, I knew he wouldn't be able to resist for long, tired and miserable as he was. Sure enough, after a moment he slowly levered himself down with a resigned sigh. 

I quickly threw a blanket over him, and then began the hair scratches. He made a tiny, appreciative sound. 

"Better?"

"Mm," he grunted.

"Good. But you're sweating, love," I murmured.

"I'm not sure how since I'm freezing," he mumbled with a cough.

"Your fever is higher. I can feel it just by touching you."

He groaned, snuggling deeper against me.

I massaged his neck for a while longer, trying to ease the tension from his muscles. He continued to be restless though, and apparently unable to regulate his body temperature. One moment he would be shaking with chills pulling the blanket closer, and then the next kicking it away from his legs with a moan of discomfort. 

The final straw for me was when he was overcome with yet another hacking coughing fit, curling in on himself miserably, trying to muffle it into his arm, the other hand clutching his chest.

Before he settled again, I leaned forward to grab the untouched pile of medication and glass of water from the coffee table. When he was again lying against me, I wordlessly held it out to him. He of course made a sound of irritation.

"Why are you being so stubborn? You need to sleep, and you can't sleep in the state you're in, at least not well. This will help your headache, fever, sore throat, everything so you can rest. I can tell you're exhausted."

After a final moment of consideration, he held out a reluctant hand. I handed him the items and he swallowed them without comment.

Neither of us spoke again for a long time, and didn't move from our places. I soothingly stroked his hair or rubbed his back, putting myself in a trance almost as much as him. 

I could see the medication talking effect. His restlessness slowly eased along with his coughing. It seemed I could even feel his body temperature decreasing.

"Hnnkkt'CHUH! Hehgg'CHUHH! EHHG'choo!"

Just as I thought he was asleep, his body twitched with a trio of sneezes, the quality of which could only be described as lazy--slow, thick, and dulled. They hardly seemed to stir him from his stupor.

"Bless you. Are you ok?"

" 'm fine," he croaked tiredly. We were both quiet for a while, then he spoke up again. "You know, one of the reasons I keep saying I'm fine is because I can't begin to describe what an improvement it is to be with you while being sick compared to being sick in bed alone. The difference is as drastic as night and day--better doesn't begin to describe it. Asking for anything more than what I already have just by your being here feels selfish."

Richard would never express such sentiments under normal circumstances, and hearing it said so plainly overwhelmed me with emotion. Yet I knew he wouldn't want me to reply in kind. He would prefer to state his piece and let it be. And indeed, I saw his eyes drooping heavier by the second, so I kept my thoughts to myself for now, but leaned over to plant a series of kisses all over his hot face. 

He hardly moved and didn't respond even when I finally stopped, but I couldn't help but notice the tiny smile playing around his lips as he drifted off to sleep.

#Sickness #sicknario #sickfic #snzblr #snzario #snzfic #everyone is hotter with a fever

[sapphicwhxre]

tiny pansy rant, cut short so it’s *hopefully* not too long:

i. wanted. to. see. her. change! and in my opinion the reason she never got the chance was because jkr used her character to make fun of people she disliked :/

pretty much all the other noteable slytherins had some sort of redemption arc,, and yeah they’re still mostly problematic people but they got chances: snape, draco, narcissa, regulus, slughorn, leta and technically andromeda? you get the point i just—

like miss ma’am decided to make pansy,, the like slytherin stereotype? and have her want to betray harry? she was seventeen ffs, not bellatrix lestrange. she was in the middle of a war? in my personal opinion i don’t think that she wanted to hand harry over out of cruelty like. it’s possible? but maybe she was just scared? also don’t we know that pansy was terrified at the thought of like. voldemort coming to hogwarts? again: everyone expects all of the children in harry potter to be these selfless brave individuals,, they’re kids :( yes ik it’s ya fantasy but cmon. they were supposed to be stressed about the N.E.W.T exams not the upheaval of their society?

and don’t get me wrong i know that she was. not a good person. she was a bitchy teenage bully who was taught hateful views. but i wanted to see her change even a little– even draco marries someone who presumably teaches him how to treat people equally? like. there was so much room for change: she was a prefect, she was capable of some kindness seeing as she liked draco, or alternatively, we could’ve seen her break away from draco and potentially stop hating harry/all his friends quite so much or develop her own opinions. or maybe her group of friends that she used for validation throughout her school years was uprooted during the war and she had to learn that independency? or her pointing out harry could’ve been turned into trying to be selfless, like she thought they’d be safe that way, or she returned later fighting with reinforcements to show she was on Hogwarts’ side. jkr is always like "well they technically came back to fight, if you squint » but that’s not enough. also? let’s say we did get a glimpse of her during the actual battle: there could’ve been anything, the smallest scene, that showed some sort of support or reconciliation or something between her and hermione, considering how hermione was often pansy’s target. everybody wants to see forgiveness between draco and harry because of minor events/details (i dislike drarry but that’s besides the point), but imagine what could’ve changed with some semblance of apology or assistance from pansy to hermione. there were so many chances for r*wling to give her a smallest redemption

but instead we got her characterized as evil and a stupid, cowardly traitor. she the only person we ever see her care for marries her friends younger sister. she’s the written depiction of jkr’s bitterness and her arc is jkr’s vengeance.

also, another reason that i’m so mad she got nothing is because of the whole slytherin=evil thing. she’s made into a stereotype of a “slytherin”— cruel, selfish, shallow, ugly, and asinine. (also i could rant about slytherin forever, but can we just mention that jkr consistently refers to slytherins as physically ugly and just how fucked up that is? i– wtf). but anyway: to give pansy a chance to change is to give the slytherin house a chance to change its reputation. trying to justify that the slytherin house got its redemption because of the actions of ppl like snape or regulus, etc isn’t possible. because all of those “slytherin heroes” were described again and again as being “different from all the other slytherins”. they set themselves apart by being decent. they weren’t normal slytherins, no, they were set apart, they were brave and smart and kind— not evil. there’s no redemption to be found there. i wish jkr would just fucking say that being sorted into slytherin was being made into a villain. she dodged around it with rhetorical questions and pointing out how not All of them are bad,, and then will go on to mock the other slytherins and talk about how the heroes were Not Like The Other Snakes... again: there’s no redemption of slytherin as a house, as a quality, as a concept there. it’s just the redemption of an individual.

in pansy, however, we could’ve found so much more. like i said, she’s The Average Slytherin: not a hero, not a villain like voldemort. she’s made out to be a depiction of the typical slytherin student, one without a “destiny”, so to speak. and so to give her the chance, to see her change, to have her redefine herself? that would be a starting point for restoring slytherin as a whole (obviously not the best way, and the real best thing to do would be not to make an entire house be the bad guys in the first place, but–) to have someone who’s the figurehead of slytherin (like actually a figurehead,, girl is a even a prefect) show remorse and growth gives the entire house the seed of redemption. it would mean that after over a thousand years there could be peace between the houses. obviously not the only factor in reconciliation but still so important.

and not to just continue to heap on my own issues with it, but look. i know that there are so many other ways to introduce “mundane” antagonists without making them a symbol of anything. pansy could’ve been a bitch without representing slytherin. also pansy doesn’t have to break character and become kind for amends to be made. they don’t even have to be fully made, just started. but jkr chose to:

a.) go with bullying as a minor antagonistic element

b.) create and develop a character around that theme

c.) make this character only based on her own negative personal experiences

d.) turn that character into a representation of a much larger group of people

e.) deny that character any final moment that could begin to make amends for her actions and instead, chooses to make her “defining” moment an act of evil and cowardice

f.) either neglects the character or chooses plot points that would humiliate the character in all the glimpses of the future we are shown (ex. how dracos marriage is)

g.) openly mocks and insults the character repeatedly and never directly comes out and proves she didn’t write slytherins as evil

h.) to the best of my knowledge, ignores that pansy personifing slytherin, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and then characterizing both as “bad” and not giving them a chance to grow, is a summary of her thoughts on slytherin ls and is a possible interpretation of the text (i mean her opinions are already TRASH)

i. ignores the consequences of this or the possible effect it has on her entire fanbase and doesn’t seek to remedy it

but yeah, jkr, it was such a good idea to base a character off of your loathesone memories, take your anger out on her, and that choose to have that character partially represent a large percentage of your fanbase. thank you sooooo much. i really appreciate it!

summary:

I. Pansy— deserved an opportunity to have some character development. everyone else’s mistakes get overlooked to some degree save hers. had so many places to draw inspiration/opportunity from. could’ve progressed other ideas in the book and the analysis of her house while still remaining a “dislikable” character

II. Writing— from a “technical?” aspect, Pansy is underdeveloped and stagnant, used for personal reasons instead of as a plot device. perpetuates the slytherin=bad idea via a sloppy and repetitive characterization and emblem. there are ways around this that weren’t used.

III. I have no qualifications to be saying any of this lmao. Am I reading to much into it, knowing that Rowling tends to be shitty with writing details? Am I being dramatic and repetitive? probably!

IV. Fuck JKR (for everything. she’s an awful person)

anyways this has been: my mini-rant on pansy and her analysis,,, and i am terribly sorry,, i offer my apologies in advance for randomly dumping this into your inbox. it’s long and opinionated and there’s no real reason behind it! i just thought of it and then thought about it some more and then. here we are

ilysm mwah <3 should’ve definitely done something more productive but shh😭 rat brain hours

this is everything, you're completely right. i don't have much to add but i agree all the way. and people give pansy so much shit for the harry thing but she seemed genuinely scared of voldemort coming back and i really think that she believed he would leave them alone if they gave him up. from her perspective, it's either her and the people she cares about get to live or this guy that she not only isn't close to but probably sees as the bad guy considering she dated/was best friends with draco and witnessed their rivalry from his side. did she make the best decisions? no, not at all but i see her reasons and i don't think it makes her this antichrist that jkr makes her out to be. she pulled the “he's just a boy” with draco and had people sympathise with him when he did so so much worse than pansy did so why doesn't that apply to her? she's a kid. they all are. i love harry, ron, and hermione SO MUCH but jkr really said fuck everyone who isn't them ─ especially any girl who isn't her precious hermione. she projected her own pettiness onto fictional characters who are CHILDREN and proceeded to get upset when people connected to and loved other people that she herself made. creating such an underdeveloped character and expecting people to hate her just because she imagined her as her bully is beyond immature and ridiculous. anyways. jkr take a fucking chill pill and leave my girl alone.

#pansy parkinson

[mindblindbard]

I asked but honestly idk if tumblr ate it or you preferred not to answer (which is ok!!) but I love lore and I would love to know about the Korean Unification war? In this world is Korea reunited? Are dinamics with the USA different?

I’m so sorry! If I don’t answer something, it’s usually simply because I don’t have time. In a perfect world, I’d be able to write and interact with readers fulltime (maybe someday), but right now I currently have 1,028 unanswered messages in my tumblr inbox. I do read all the questions, but which ones get answered is based off either when they're sent or where my finger stops randomly scrolling. I often lose asks that I wanted to answer, since at this point there’s too many for me to even re-find them using ctrl+f since they don’t load at the same time.

(This is NOT a complaint. It means the world to me that so many people are curious about Mind Blind. Asks and comments are a HUGE source of motivation that keep me writing!)

Please feel free to keep asking questions via tumblr, but the COG forum may be a better place since it’s easier for asks not to get buried: https://forum.choiceofgames.com/t/mind-blind-9-30-demo-update-a-story-where-you-are-mostly-not-the-chosen-one/79890.  I personally like the fact that I can quickly “heart” comments; I am reading and processing all your feedback, even if I don’t always have time to respond!

Now that ramble is done: about the Korean Reunification.

(Actual answer under the cut, because I already went off on a long-winded tangent, as I’m prone to do. But here’s another really, really, REALLY long-winded essay. No, seriously. It’s too long.)

When I lived in Seoul, I was somewhat surprised that most my friends there really didn’t like the idea of North and South Korea reunifying. Granted, my perspective is limited since most my circle a) lived in Seoul, b) were Millennials, and c) had jobs where they either used a lot of English, or had once lived/studied abroad outside Korea. They worried about the expense of reunification, and also that the cultures of North and South Korea had strayed too far apart at this point for the two to easily be one country again. Many viewed South Korea as having more in culturally common with the USA than with their northern neighbor.

Older people seemed to have a different viewpoint (again, this is generalizing based off my personal experiences). Most didn’t remember the Korean Division in 1945, but they're acutely aware of the fact that they had an uncle/grandparent/cousin who lives in North Korea. Reunification is personal--a familial, rather than economical, crisis.

(I encountered a similar generational divide of viewpoint when I lived in Ireland. But again, my perspective is that of an outsider looking in, so take what I say with a shaker of salt.)

I can’t begin to guess how Korean reunification would happen at this point (or even if it could, despite the inspiring speeches of South Korean politicians). It’s been almost 100 years since the two split. Rather than speculate the future, I changed the past. In Mind Blind’s universe, Korea Reunification was fought between 1995-1998, sparked by the beginning of the North Korean Famine. 

This is because MB’s United Nations is a lot more . . . *cough* . . . uh, militaristically proactive? This is a very double edged blade, as will become clear in later chapters. But MB’s UN functions more like Model UN in the States, where high school juniors “solve” all the world’s problems in a week and then feel naively smug because adults can’t figure this stuff out. (My time at Model UN had Germany and Guatemala uniting to put an end to torture. I also lead a motion to experiment on and weaponize David Hasselhoff as a Superman-esque nuclear deterrent, which gives you an idea of how realistic our teenage expectations were and how seriously I’ve always taken things. But in a way, Hasselhoff was my first attempt at a proto-Ment. Superpowers change political landscapes.)

Reunited Korea maintains close trade ties with the USA, but some of the modern-day resentment has faded since the USA no longer has a military presence in Korea. It’s more an equal partnership. Korea maintains South Korea’s political structure, and, much to the relief of male K-pop stars, the draft has been done away with. (Many Korean superstars are Ments, since it further “glamourizes” them. Faking a high Pollard Score has become the new plastic surgery.) 

However, the Reunification also lead to problems.

One of the reasons Rosy happily left Korea is that they’re looked down on due to being North Korean. The region that used to North Korea is much poorer, and some modern Koreans in Mind Blind’s world feel resentment towards the UN. There’s a belief that that reunification slowed down their country’s economic growth, and was more an act of virtue signaling by the Western allies . . . and worse, that it was the UN’s testing grounds for Ment military use. After all, it was during the Reunification when Ment soldiers were first utilized as special agents by the newly-formed Unity.

And holy crap this is too long. Sorry!

#Mind Blind #Korean Reunification #Lore Ramble

[ltleflrt]

So I was having a conversation on Discord about omegaverse tonight, and my brain won’t shut up about it, because as usual I come up with my arguments after the discussion is over.  I should have been asleep 3 hours ago, but it’s hot and I can’t unwind, so I’m going to stay up EVEN LATER while the a/c brings things down a few degrees, and I try to get these thoughts out of my head.

I was pro-omegaverse, and trying to explain why *I personally* like the genre, and why I think even with it’s problematic origins and frequently used elements, it’s still a cool genre.  I was essentially having 2 discussions, but they were both using my answers to their questions, even though I was usually addressing them 1 at a time.  That happens when you’re in a Discord chat, and I wasn’t @ing my answers to them, since we were all in the room together.  And I think that cunfuddled the discussion and my thoughts.  So here’s a breakdown.

Issue 1. Biological Essentialism is gross and rapey.

Answer:  Yes, it is.  But so what?  Some people like pure rape-fantasy.  Is it healthy?  That can be argued either way, and it definitely depends on the person writing, or the person reading.  People like gross and rapey stories to get their rocks off.  Whether we like non-con or not, rape fics should be allowed to exist because some people like it.  It doesn’t matter if I think their reasons are valid.  As long as they’re not actively trying to harm someone, let people get down and dirty with their rapey fantasies.

Also, the whole biological imperative to mate isn’t that far off from Soulmate AUs.  Truemates = Soulmates.  Whether we like Soulmate AUs or not, are we also arguing that they shouldn’t exist because they’re problematic?  No, we’re not.  Soulmate AUs are romantic for a lot of people.  Let people have their uncomplicated, fluffy, 1 Destined Love stories.

Something to keep in mind though, is that not all omegaverse fics use the true mate trope.  And quite a lot of fics have characters with a lot more self control during their mating cycles than what you’d find in the short smutty one shots.  It’s common for them to avoid each other during heats, and only share their mating cycle as an act of love, trust, and devotion.  After they’ve been dating for a while.  (I love it when the alpha brings over snacks and water for the omega, and immediately hightails it out of there once they get a whiff of their sexy love interest.  “Take care of yourself, text me when you feel better, loveyoubye! *nyoooom*”)

Issue 2. It’s transphobic.

Answer:  This one is harder to argue, because yeah.  It can be.  But so can non-omegaverse.  Transphobia is, unfortunately, everywhere.  Exploring human gender through non-human gendered beings isn’t a bad thing though.  Cis people should be allowed to explore those things too.  This is step 1 to fighting the Patriarchy.  Questioning it.  Someone may come out of the experience still cis, but they’re going to be more open minded to trans people.  Not to mention, all the trans and enby folks who probably figured themselves out through the gender exploration to be found in omegaverse.

Now, if someone’s into omegaverse and they tell you they won’t read a story about a trans character?  Red flag.

Personally, I like the gender exploration in omegaverse.  Not just in the hormonal stuff, although I do kinda love the idea of seeing cis male characters suffer cramps once a month lol... but I like the stuff about social inequality that women have to go through mapped onto a male character.

I brought this up in the chat, and my use of the term “women’s issues” raised a terfy flag I think, which upset me and made it harder to make my point.  Cuz if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s terfy.  But I do see women’s issues as also trans issues.  Trans Men are treated differently after they start to present as male.  There’s a marked difference between their treatment as a woman pre-transition, and as a man afterwards.  And they still have to be really careful about accidental pregnancy.  I cannot fathom how awful the dysphoria would be for them if they get pregnant.  Trans Women are treated horribly pre-transition if they give any hint of feminine interests.  There’s a reason “girly” is an insult, and it’s because Toxic Masculinity Is The Worst.  And then when they transition?  Hooooboy, gods bless those ladies because Trans Women are treated worse than Cis Women on the social pyramid.  And Enbies?  Oh you sweet things, how the hell do you deal with the rest of us bastards? 

When I say that I am interested in seeing the characters I like deal with women’s issues, I am talking about social inequality, not just periods and cramps (although that a little bit too, because I wish a cis man could just fucking UNDERSTAND why I need a goddamn nap okay? lol), but also sexual health rights, including birth control, including the right to choose whether or not to take hormones, the right to equal pay, the right to equal education.  Feminism, for me, includes trans and enby folks at the table. 

But anyway, the characters I like right now just happen to be men.  I see Dean as a man.  That could mean he’s a trans man too, because trans men are men, yo.  Castiel I see either as a man or non-binary.  So if I want to put them through “women’s issues”, I have to plunk them in a special universe for that.  No one is writing Matriarchy AUs, so Omegaverse it is!

(Side note: If my OTP were f/f, I’d still like omegaverse.  And I could see lots of interesting ways to use all those same tropes for 2 female presenting characters.  So it has nothing to do with genitalia.  Unless it’s smut.  But I swing all the ways, so still not an issue for me lol)

(Side note part deux: I like to read trans stories too.  They have unique things about them that cannot be found in stories about cis characters, even in omegaverse.  And when I see Dean and Cas as men or enby, I’m not putting down people who like them gender flipped.  I just see myself enjoying Trans Woman Claire dating Enby Kaia, more than I’d like to see Dean or Cas written as cis/trans-women.)

Issue 3.  Internalized misogyny!

Answer: This is an argument used against women shipping m/m in general, and has nothing to do with omegaverse.  It just so happens that omegaverse was created for m/m pairings.  But there are TONS of reasons we ship more m/m than any other pairings, ranging from those are the most interesting characters presented to us, to--yes--internalized misogyny.  But I’m tired of that one.  Internalized misogyny is rampant, and telling women that their fantasies are problematic isn’t going to cure them.  There’s better ways to go about it. 

Omegaverse now covers m/f and f/f pairings as well, sooooo... yeah, this one just doesn’t hold water like it used to.  We just need to yoink the media out of the hands of the cis-men who are mostly in charge, and make them give us more compelling women to ship.

Issue 4: That’s not how human bodies work.

Answer: They’re not human lol!  Okay but real talk here.  This issue actually sounds transphobic to me, because it strikes very close to the XX vs XY chromosomes argument.  Omegaverse characters have intersex variations.  Alpha females and Omega males can have both a penis and a vagina in some fics.  It depends on how the author wants to write it, of course.  I usually go with the (horrifying) cloaca for omega males, and the (hyena inspired) psueudo-penis for alpha females instead, but to each writer their own lol

But again... not human.  Let wet buttholes be a thing, lube is expensive and sometimes the bottle gets tangled in the sheets, and you have to stop what you’re doing to find it and... anyway, convenience in fantasy sex is nice lol

In Conclusion: 

Personally, I only like non-traditional omegaverse.  The stuff that subverts the “problematic” tropes.  I was asked what I liked about the genre, and when I explained, it devolved into discussion of the topics above.  But I think what was forgotten in that discussion, was that I kept saying I don’t like the “problematic” things.  I like flipping the tropes.  Which I like in general, when I’m looking for things to read.  I mean, how many Castiel Thinks He’s Straight fics are there?  Not many!  So I wrote one!  Because flipping tropes is my jam! 

I don’t like Soulmate AUs, but with the proper twist I can still enjoy it.  I don’t like Highschool AUs, but I’ve read some that touched me so deeply I still think of them years later.  There’s always someone subverting the tropes I don’t like and turning them into something I do like.

And yet even though I kept saying I liked the subversion of the genre, the discussion kept coming back around to the parts of omegaverse that I *don’t* like.  I will still defend anyone’s right to like the parts of it that aren’t for me though, so I argued away XD

And? Sometimes I like the dark problematic stuff when I’m in the mood to get my rocks off.  Don’t judge, you’re all a little weird in some way or another ;D

Anywho, now that I got this stuff off my chest, hopefully I can sleep.  It has also cooled down by like 4 degrees, and I no longer feel like I’m going to melt in my sleep.  Tomorrow is going to suck, because I have to get up in 5 hours.  Yay!

#ltleramblings #i enjoy thinking about these things #i was enjoying the discord discussion #i just couldn't keep up with 2 people at once #especially 2 people who are much better at thinking on the fly than i am lol

[monst]

Uhh can i request for iida, momo, todoroki and bakugou (sorry if its too much you can just pick two) comforting their angry s/o after their so called "friend" betrays them/uses them etc... love your writing 💜

^.^  In order:

Tenya, YaoMomo, Todoroki and Bakugou x reader

Warings: None 

Tenya Iida -

Tenya thought you were going to wear a hole into the floor with your furious pacing. You had barged into his office and had begun ranting. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your face was scrunched up in anger. “I still can’t fucking believe it!” you hissed. “The fucking nerve she has! After I spent so much time and effort on that campaign! She didn’t do shit! I was the one who worked my ass of for weeks and she just swoops in and takes all the fucking credit!”

After letting you vent Iida finally stood up. He sighed and stopped your pacing by grabbing onto your hands. You stared into his warm eyes and felt frustrated tears escape your lids. 

“I-It’s just that, I didn’t...Why would she just u-use me like that?” You hiccuped. 

“Shh it’s okay.” He drawled resting his forehead against yours. “This campaign why’d you do it?”

“F-for the children of c-course.” You sniffled. 

“Then think of them. It sucks that she did something like that but at the end of the day the money raised is going to the neglected villain children fund.” He rationalized. 

“I-I know that.” You sighed. “A-and I guess you're right. The money raised was for a good cause and.. It shouldn’t matter that she took all the credit.” 

You felt much better after thinking of the ordeal with that in mind. “Tenya what would I do without you?” You sighed.

“Wear a hole through the floor?” You snorted at his answer. “Also.. You are aware that the check has our names on it right?” 

Yaoyorozu Momo -

Your sobbed tugged at Yaoyorozu’s heart. You had finally calmed down after throwing a tantrum. You had tossed furniture across the room and tore apart every gift your so called friend had ever gifted you. But after you wore out your anger you were left sobbing in Yaoyorozu’s arms. 

“H-he said that he’d never use my past against me.” You wailed hurt and anger lacing your wavering tone. “I-I trusted him b-but all he wanted to do was be fucking famous!”

“Oh (Name) I’m so sorry.” She frowned tearing up at the frazzled state you were in. 

“I-I thought that telling him might inspire him to be better but he j-just used my story. Sold it to the fucking press for some quick cash!” You hissed. 

“H-Hey, hey.” She called out swiping her thumbs under your eyes to brush away your fallen tears. “Are you ashamed of who you are?” 

“N-no.” You muttered burying your face into her chest. Her fingers quickly went to your head gently stroking your hair. 

“Your past made you who you are now.” She smiled. “And I couldn’t be any more prouder of who you are. You are amazing (Name) and when it airs everyone will know how strong you are. Ad there going to be so jealous of me for managing to snag your heart.” She hummed. 

“Momo” You mumbled into her chest. 

“Hmm?”

“I really love you.” You smiled. 

“I love you too.” She paused. “You know. If you really don’t want it aired I could always make a call.”

“Seriously?” You asked looking at her in shock only to remember how influential she is. “Y-you’d do that for me?”

“That and more.” She smiled “Besides that asshole made you cry it’s only fair he doesn't get away with it.”

You snorted. Wrapping your arms around her tighter. YaoMomo cursing was always amusing to you and you knew she knew that...

Todoroki Shoto - 

The beeping of the machine only served to tick you off even more. You had scared off three nurses already and Todoroki didn’t know what to do. When he had gotten the call that you were at the hospital his heart dropped to his feet. He raced to the hospital and expected the worst. Thankfully you weren’t injured bady. You had received stitches on your arm but the pain and meds didn’t quell your rage. 

“I feel so fucking stupid!” You hissed gripping the t.v remote tightly. 

“You shouldn’t. How were we supposed to know.” He tried to reason.

“I Should have known! He was my supposed childhood friend!” You snapped.

Todoroki really didn’t know how to call you down. After all you were also watching the broadcast on t.v. The moment in which your childhood friend stabbed your arm was censored but his words clear as day. ‘Without you I wouldn't have been able to steal this’. Todoroki felt sick. The image of the knife cutting into your skin would definitely haunt him. It didn’t help that he felt guilty as he was the one who told you to go ahead and team up with him for patrol.

“If there is anyone to blame it’s me.” He sighed. 

“What?!” You shouted. “Hell no Shoto!! If it wasn’t for you telling me to go it would have been another unsuspecting hero sitting here or worse lying in the morgue!” 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. Your anger was quickly forgotten as you tried to comfort him. 

“I'm telling you. It wasn’t your fault. I should have seen it coming. He was acting shifty the whole time but I kept playing it off saying that he was probably nervous since we haven't hung out in ages.” You sighed. “Maybe if I would have been there for him more. We just drifted apart and I never took the initiative to see if he was doing okay.”

“That’s not your fault (Name). People have freewill and he chose this. I- I’m just glad your okay.”

You both stood in silence for a while and a grateful smile crossed your face when Todoroki had spoken again. 

“When your arm gets better, let’s own up to our mistakes and catch him okay?”

“Right. If this is what he chose then we only have one thing left to do.” You sniffled. “Our job.”

Bakugou Katsuki - 

At this point you didn’t know who was more pissed you or Bakugou. Your so called friend had used you to get access to Bakugou’s agency. She said that if she didn’t get an interview and a tour that she would be fired from her job. She begged you to ask Bakugou and you felt bad for her and managed to convince him. The interview questions were half assed and you began to wonder if that was the reason she was about to be let go. 

As she continued the interview with your lover you called the firm she worked at to ask if she needed any pictures since you had realized she was terrible at her journalism job. What they told you next surprised you. Apparently she had been fired three weeks ago. You wanted to help her save face and figured that you should bring it up the next time you met. ‘Maybe she’s trying to do this so that they can take her back?’ 

Sadly that wasn’t the case. As soon as she had left Bakugou had told you that one of his gauntlets went missing. You knew your friends quirk and were out of the door in a flash. After you had dealt with her you came back with a couple of scratches and Bakugou’s grenade launcher. 

“The audacity of that bitch!” You huffed. 

“Get a look at this.” He hissed pointing to his computer screen. “She’s been going to other agency’s and stealing hero props to sell.” 

“Looks like she managed to snag Eijirou’s face guard at one point.” you rolled your eyes. 

“Did ya call the cops.” He asked. 

“Tch no.” You scoffed. 

“And why not?” He sassed. 

“I beat the shit outta her.” you responded. 

“Oh… You still pissed?” He asked. 

“Very?” You said grinding your teeth. “She just used me to steal from my man.”

“Wanna go blow off some steam.” He offered. 

“The ring around the block?”

“Yup.” 

#bnha scenarios #tenya iida #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #yaoyorozu momo #yaoyorozu x reader #yaoyorozu momo x reader #shoto todoroki #todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha insert #bnha fluff

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

hear my stolen lullabies

chapter five of the peter losing wendy series

*inspired by Taylor Swift’s Folklore*

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Original Character (Liz Walker)

Warnings: mentions of parent death and suicide, drug use, emotional/verbal abuse, yelling, PLEASE proceed with caution, smoking

Word Count: 5.6K

Summary: Twice, Liz finds solace at the Chateau during a difficult time.

March 13, 2019

Fiddling with her earring, Liz stared down at her feet as her mother rambled on. Her mother wasn’t exactly screaming, but she was definitely yelling. About how Liz needed to help out more around the house, about how she shouldn’t abandon her mother like her sisters had, about how there was nothing nice left about life. To say it was less than uplifting was an understatement. Liz was beginning to taste blood as she gnawed on her lower lip. After a couple years dealing with her mother’s rage, or her teary outbursts, she had gotten used to tuning it out. Or, at least, trying to. Sometimes, though, it was too loud, too painful, too overwhelming.

“You’re always so fucking mean to me, Elizabeth!” Ruth Walker exclaimed, hands at her sides in exaggeration. “Why can’t you just comfort me? That’s what I need!”

“Comfort you, mom?!” Liz yelled back, finally looking up and tilting her head at her mother. “Jesus, I’ve been comforting you everyday since dad died! Every single fucking day!”

“Excuse me?” Ruth asked, raising her eyebrows. “I’m the mother, and you’re the child! You don’t swear at me!”

Scoffing slightly, Liz shook her head. With her mother staring back at her, brown eyes furious and dark, brows furrowed, Liz couldn’t stomach her anger. As much as she tried to stamp it down, she usually ended with her own tirade creeping up her throat. And the worst part was, she was always wondering if she would one day end up screaming at her own daughter. Full of hypocrisy and bitterness, her life lived entirely different than she wanted. Ruth Walker wasn’t to blame for the way things had turned out, and that Liz scared more than she cared to admit. Her gut churned with anxiety and adrenaline, and she continued despite her better judgement.

“If I’m the child, Mom, why am I the one sleeping in your bed to help you with your nightmares? Why am I the one picking up the milk and the eggs and the bread? And spending every minute of every damn day worrying about you ending up exactly like Dad?” she wagered, pulling out the big guns.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew there was no use. They fought about the same things a thousand times over, and neither of them ever changed a bit. But at least letting off some steam might help in the short-term. Liz’s voice was getting louder, and her face redder, as she stood across from her mother in the dingy kitchen. All Liz had wanted was to get a snack to celebrate finishing her essay. Instead, it was an ambush over the leftovers.

“I lost my husband! My life is...my future is ruined!” Ruth screamed, crying through her words.

She knew how insensitive it was, but Liz rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help herself. “Jesus, I know! You think I don’t know that? Your life isn’t ruined, Mom! You’re not the one who died!”

“Sometimes it feels like it,” her mother said, still angry but beginning to deflate. Her energy was waning.

Liz scoffed, feeling completely impatient. Each time they reached this point in the conversation, when her mother would begin to wallow and struggle through her words, Liz would have to sigh, and apologize, and suggest her mother finally go to therapy. The island’s pharmacist, who had once been a therapist, had offered to help the family in the wake of Liz’s father’s suicide. Out of all five Walker women, only Liz had taken him up on the offer. Though she’d only been able to handle about one session a month, Liz was still going. And she knew it helped. But her mother refused to help herself.

“Yeah, well, sometimes it seems like it, too,” Liz muttered, so utterly frustrated she found her filter (which was not particularly strong to begin with) to be totally gone.

Her mother swallowed thickly, but didn’t say a word in response. She only gaped.

Feeling her stomach flip once again, whether due to general anxiety or disgust with herself she didn’t know, Liz turned around and looked out the kitchen window. Bracing herself with her palms on the sink, she looked at the ring stand on the windowsill. On it, her mother’s diamond engagement ring. She had to avert her eyes from it. Before, the ring had been precious, always on her mother’s finger. But Ruth had taken it off after hearing of her husband’s death, and it had sat on the windowsill ever since. Ruth valued it now about as much as a piece of gravel. Liz uttered a harsh, humorless chuckle.

“What an asshole. It wouldn’t be like this if he was still here,” Liz said. “I hate him.”

Ruth’s jaw clenched as Liz turned back to her. “Don’t talk about your father like that!”

“Stop defending him! He fucking lied to us! He was supposed to be there for us...a-and take c-care of us!” Liz argued. “And then he just left! Real fathers don’t do that! At least not the ones who loved their kids!”

“Fuck you!” her mother screamed in response.

Liz recoiled, grey eyes darkening to storms. She gave a thin smile, devoid of joy, and then began to push past her mother. “Yeah, well, fuck you, too.”

She grabbed her bag and tugged on her shoes, then rushed out the front door in the direction of her bike. Ruth stood motionless in the kitchen, watching through the screen door as her daughter rode away. The evening was clouded over and gloomy, the air just beginning to warm with spring. But an involuntary tremble rolled through Ruth’s body as though it were winter. And, when her daughter was gone, she let out a sob. Then, she collapsed in on herself and began to weep.

.   .   .

A violent shiver made goosebumps rise on Liz’s skin as she finally made it to the Chateau, but her cheeks were flushed hot with adrenaline. The daylight was nearly gone, the sky a cold purple-pink, as she leaned her bike up against the tree out front. The air was filled with spring freshness, but it was chilly. The gray cardigan she wore was proving to be a lifesaver. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stomped up and onto the front porch. She could smell the familiar scent of burnt toast (a telltale sign JJ had tried to cook something, which never ended well) as she approached. And she stopped in her tracks when she saw JJ in the hammock, scrolling absently through his phone. He was freshly showered, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, hair damp. He looked up when her footsteps halted, eyebrows raised and expectant.

“Hey, red. What’s going on?” he asked, not quite concerned, but certainly not indifferent either.

It was Thursday night, and everyone was busy. Sarah and John B were out getting dinner somewhere on the Figure Eight. Pope was working on scholarship applications. Kie was doing a shift at The Wreck. JJ himself had only gotten off of work an hour earlier, sore from an afternoon spent mowing Kook lawns. Liz had texted in their group chat saying she had a big paper to write, which would probably take her until the sun rose the next morning.

Liz blew out a long breath, feeling the tense energy begin to leave her system. She didn’t feel like crying, though. Not exactly. Instead, she felt used up. Trying her hardest wasn’t working. Wringing her hands together, she felt how dry her skin was. She’d been washing her hands too much, using scalding water, despite the harshness of the early spring cold. The breeze was still parched and unyielding. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. The habits came and went, ones she felt like needed to be done or else the world would end. They had existed before her father’s death, and she had always been what her mother called ‘a nervous little girl,’ but things had definitely gotten worse in the past couple of years.

“I just…” she began tiredly. Pausing, she sighed and took a seat on the couch, facing him. “I got in a f-fight with my mom.”

“Oh,” he said plainly, nodding. And she could tell he understood. He’d spent probably countless hours listening to her vent about her family’s issues. Just as she had spent hours hearing about JJ’s father. They had developed a pretty symbiotic system. “What was it about?”

She ran a hand over her face, narrowly avoiding her eyes, the makeup from the school day she had yet to wash off. Then, she shrugged. “I don’t know. The same shit, I guess. I told her...it seemed like she was dead now too.”

JJ hummed, nodding as he furrowed his brows. He put his phone down on the floor next to the hammock, forgotten. He waited for her to continue.

“I mean...I guess I meant it. I know that...I know her worst fears came true. I know that. But fuck,” she said, her knee bobbing up and down. The fingers of one hand drummed against her thigh. “I’m just so sick of all this. This would all be so much easier if he had just like...gotten into a car accident or had a brain aneurysm or something.”

He noticed her fidgeting, and he didn’t know whether it was because she was still so keyed up from the fight or if she was just cold. “Probably,” he agreed quietly.

She barely cast him a glance before she continued. “I mean, what was the point in having the funeral, and saying goodbye and all that bullshit, if we were still gonna fight about him and think about him every damn day? It’s like...everything is different except for that one thing. He’s the dead one and he’s like...the only thing left.”

Shaking her head at herself, not even understanding her own words, she clenched her jaw. Looking out into the yard, she could vaguely see the chickens walking around behind the wire of the coop. The chipped red paint of her bike shone dully in the glow of the sunset. Above the bike, the tire swing Big John had put up years earlier still swung, weathered with age. Liz wondered if John B ever felt like she did. Home was still home, but it would also never be home again. Her house felt more like a mausoleum to her than anything else. The life she had lived before was never coming back.

“She kick you out again?” JJ asked.

“Not really,” Liz said. “But I probably shouldn’t go back tonight. I said ‘fuck you’ to her. Like, literally.”

JJ raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I know,” she said, reading his expression. “But only because she said it to me first. I don’t think I’m ready for round two yet. I’ll take the pullout or something.”

“You want something to take the edge off?” JJ asked, taking his weed pen from his breast pocket and holding it out to her.

She waved her hand dismissively and shook her head again. “No thanks. I just...Jesus I hate this.”

Huffing out a frustrated breath, she got up and slipped through the screen door, into the Chateau. JJ wasn’t surprised a minute later when she reemerged with a battered acoustic guitar in her hands. It had been her father’s in his teen years, and she had been playing since before JJ even met her, when the instrument’s body dwarfed her own and her child’s hands could hardly fit around the neck. She didn’t practice everyday or anything, but could still play songs around the campfire or when the restless energy invaded her body and she needed an outlet for it. Without another word, she began softly strumming out a folk song JJ could almost recognize, but couldn’t remember the name of.

“How was your day?” she asked after a moment, eyes not even on the guitar as she played. It had become a distraction, rather than a passion, since her father had died. Playing it would always be linked with him in her mind. Sometimes, it made her angry that he had ruined yet another thing from the grave. But sometimes, she could tolerate the memories enough to enjoy it again.

“You mean since you saw me like four hours ago?” JJ asked, smirking lightly. Most days, John B drove them both home in the Twinkie, along with Pope.

She nodded, smiling just a little. “Yeah. I’m sure it’s been really exciting.”

“Oh, yeah,” JJ said emphatically. “Honestly, it was a pretty life-changing afternoon.”

“Enlighten me,” Liz said, tilting her head at him.

“Okay, let’s see. I went to the Eight to mow the Westerfields’ lawn. But their kid wouldn’t quit trying to help, so I had to make the lawn mower noises while he used his toy one, and he tired out eventually. Added like two extra hours,” JJ said.

Smiling fondly, Liz nodded for him to continue. A light breeze passed by, blowing her bangs away from her face.

“He’s pretty cute, though. And his mom let me in the house to wash up this time. I got this sick utility tool from the garage when she wasn’t looking,” he said, grin growing with excitement. From the same pocket which housed his pen, he produced a shiny red utility tool, complete with a knife, a screwdriver, and a bottle opener.

She laughed. “What the fuck do you need that for, Maybank?”

“Remember on New Year’s when we couldn’t find the corkscrew so you had to open that wine with a screw and a hammer?”

“One of my proudest moments.”

“Well, next time, we’ll have an extra,” JJ said, putting the tool back. “And I gotta say, I think we should add that house to our list.”

“Really? It’s the yellowish one with the hedges in the front, right?” Liz asked, still plucking at her guitar strings.

JJ nodded.

Since they were kids, they had been considering which houses to move into when they went full Kook. The ‘list’ had never been written down, instead existing as more of a living document in both their minds. There were a few properties on the Eight that were serious contenders, known by the families that lived in them: the Westerfields, the Kitteridges, even the Camerons. Liz was always coming back to the Petries’ place, with the cobblestone path and the tiny pond in the backyard. JJ was partial to the old McKinnon place, with the pristine lawn and the well-kempt dock out back.

“The inside is kickass,” JJ continued. “Like, a TV in every room.”

“Okay, it’s officially added,” Liz said with finality and a little smile.

Before she could continue, she saw JJ yawn into his fist. She noticed the tired glaze in his blue eyes and felt a little bit guilty. She had come over after a long day and bombarded him with all her family shit. She wanted to reciprocate, ask about how things were with his dad and why he hadn’t been back home for at least a week, but she bit her tongue. After so many years knowing JJ, she had learned that he wasn’t going to talk about his family until he wanted to.

She began to play “Polly,” not really singing but humming lowly along with the tune. JJ listened, rocking the hammock slightly. They shared a love for Kurt Cobain, and he always liked it when she played Nirvana for him. Even if he was more partial to the screamo electric songs than their acoustic numbers. As Liz expected, JJ was struggling to keep his eyes open by the time she finished.

“You falling asleep, sunshine?” she asked softly, putting her guitar aside. She would have to make sure she placed it back in the corner of the Chateau’s living room when they went to turn in for the night.

“No,” he said, clearing his throat and blinking harshly a couple times. “Are you kidding? It’s only like eight.”

She shrugged. “You can rest if you want to, JJ. It’s just me.”

“You cold?” he asked, eyes lingering on her hands. They were still a bit shaky, even after she played guitar. Usually, that was enough to make the angry trembling subside.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Answer the question.”

With a stubborn sigh, she relented. “I mean, a little bit.”

He rolled his eyes. She was always trying to put on a brave face, even over something as small as being cold. Even in front of him. “Yeah, a ‘little bit.’ Okay. C’mon, tough girl, you can steal some of my body heat.”

She snorted a laugh as he opened his arms and gestured for her to come lay down with him. “Okay.”

Her cheeks warmed marginally, but he didn’t mention it if he noticed she was blushing. They were touchy with each other. All the Pogues were. But she and JJ had always been a bit more. Lately, it was getting under her skin, in a good way or a bad way she didn’t know. Each time she felt herself crushing, she reminded herself of the perfect, toned Tourons JJ always brought home after a Kegger. She reminded herself that they had known each other forever, and she shouldn’t ruin anything over a silly, fleeting feeling. Recently, though, there hadn’t been as many girls taken home. And there had been lingering looks and moments between the two of them. But Liz figured she was only imagining it. Otherwise, what was it? The whole thing was too confusing to manage.

But she was cold and he was tired. She didn’t feel up to navigating her thoughts on the subject, so she pushed them out of her mind. And one of the comfiest quilts ever to exist was draped over the back of the couch, too tempting to resist. She grabbed it and then kicked off her shoes before she went over to the hammock. She plopped down next to him, taking a moment to cover the two of them with the blanket and settle in. He winced slightly as her elbow grazed his ribcage.

“Sorry, sunshine. Are you okay?” she asked, instantly concerned, noticing as he hissed in quiet pain.

“Oh, yeah, red,” he said, nodding. “Just got a little too sloppy at the Boneyard last weekend. I fell down on the damn dock. Totally knocked the wind out of me.”

“Do you want me to move? You need to tell me if I’m hurting you,” she continued, a hand placed softly on his chest.

“You’re not,” he replied. “I promise.”

He wrapped his arms around her and brought her head to his shoulder. It seemed to be enough to reassure her, and she let the subject drop. Or maybe she was saving it away for a discussion later on. One thing JJ had learned about Liz in knowing her: her memory was pretty damn close to photographic. She breathed out in content as she finally began to warm up, and her body relaxed.

“Did you finish your paper?” JJ asked, remembering what she should have been doing.

“Yeah. It didn’t take me as long as I thought it would. There’s way too much to say about Virginia Woolf,” Liz explained, letting her legs slip between his, tangling them together. It was the closest they had been in a long time, and she could smell his Old Spice. “It actually ended up being like a page too long. I had to go back and cut it down.”

“Good job, nerd,” he teased. English was the only class she regularly got As in.

“Shut up,” she warned, looking up at him through her lashes and smirking a bit. “Just go to sleep, dick.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said playfully. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

When he pulled back, their eyes met again. Liz didn’t think much. She could only feel what she was doing as she was doing it, a bit surprised at herself. It was like her brain short circuited, flooded with butterflies, and she could only act on instinct.

“JJ?”

“Hm?”

Then, after a moment’s hesitation: “Can we kiss?”

His eyes softened. “‘Course we can, Lizzie.”

Before she knew it, they were both leaning in. They kissed gently, slow. JJ’s lips were surprisingly soft, and he kept a small smile on his face as they separated, dimples on his cheeks. Liz’s brow crinkled. Had that really just happened? When they were both totally sober and not dreaming? She uttered a small hum, nodding.

“Huh,” she said. She had never kissed anyone before, besides Kie. Never a real kiss.

JJ uttered a chuckle. “Yeah. Huh.”

“Are you alright?” Liz asked, a smile to match his own creeping onto her face.

“Mm-hm. Are you alright?” JJ’s voice lilted with nervous, giggly apprehension.

She nodded.

Then, some sort of simple understanding passed between them, smiles still ghosting over their lips. Liz put her head back down on JJ’s shoulder, and his grip tightened on her just a touch. They fell asleep.

.   .   .

October 27, 2019

Again, Liz was high as a kite by late afternoon. They sat smoking on the front porch of the Chateau after the midday dress burning, laughing at the mock sincerity of the ceremony. For once, Liz was happy and giggly in the presence of Sarah Cameron. JJ grinned widely at Liz opening up a bit. John B was always quick to accuse Liz of not liking Sarah, but JJ knew it was simply that she needed time to soften. Even with all her confidence, she was still shy. She didn’t like to show herself to people until she was positive she could trust them. JJ could definitely understand that. Leaning back against the couch, he threw his arm over the backrest. Liz, sitting beside him because she knew he would hog the bowl otherwise, tensed slightly. Looking around self-consciously, she didn’t think she saw anyone reacting to her flinch. Hopefully, they hadn’t noticed. The instinct to pull away from JJ was knee jerk. With a harsh swallow, she clenched her jaw and sat back slightly, trying to lean into it.

“Yo, did you guys hear that new Billie Eilish single?” JJ asked.

“Oh, I fucking loved it,” Liz said emphatically.

John B snickered. “Well, damn, I never would have guessed.”

She flipped him off, rolling her eyes. “You’re a loser.”

“Ditto, man,” John B replied, a smug smirk on his face.

Liz scoffed through a breathy chuckle. Weed made John B a bit of a condescending asshole, though sometimes in a charming way. Each time it was a toss-up. The day was slightly warmer than the one before, but she suspected it would likely be the last day the temperature was above fifty degrees. The thought of the season ahead made her grimace slightly. It was bad to begin the winter with a death. It was very bad. And, even amidst her group of friends enjoying each others’ company, she couldn’t help but feel far away from them. Distant. Alone. Maybe it was just the after-effects of her grandmother’s funeral the day before. She didn’t know.

She took the bowl back from JJ and inhaled a long breath. She coughed slightly as she let it out, listening to the others talk about something or other, maybe what Kyle McCormick had said to the calculus teacher the day before. She stared out into the front yard. When she was high, all her senses were amplified. The colors seemed brighter somehow. They seemed to move on their own, alive. The only thing close to the sensation that Liz could think of was reading Virginia Woolf. And even then, it was just the character who was experiencing it. Being mesmerized, really mesmerized, wasn’t an everyday thing. It felt like falling in love. She hadn’t felt it much since she and JJ broke up.

She passed the bowl, filled with grayish ashes, back to JJ. They reminded her of her father’s ashes. They’d spread them in the ocean, out on a rental boat. She’d held them in her hands, felt the smooth, sooty fragments of teeth. The thought made her shut her eyes for a second. JJ furrowed his brows, watching her as he took his own drag, trying to get the dregs of smoke from the bowl.

“You okay, Lizzie?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands. Her cheeks were rosy from the autumn chill. “I just have a headache.”

JJ frowned. He felt her forehead, then put the back of one hand to her cheek. He was relieved to feel the redness was from the chilly wind, not from fever. Every time she got sick, it was because she had been running herself ragged, not sleeping.  “Hm. You’re probably still tired from yesterday. You wanna go lay down?”

Clearing her throat, ridding it from the stray smoky feeling, she nodded. “Sure. I’ll take the pullout.”

“Just take JJ’s bed again,” John B said lightly, catching snippets of the conversation.

“Is that alright?” she asked, tilting her head at JJ.

“Yeah. It’s the middle of the afternoon. I won’t be needing it for like eight more hours at least,” JJ answered, trying to pass the bowl to Pope.

Pope waved a hand at the drug paraphernalia. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t smoked, Liz.”

Liz rolled her eyes as she got up from the couch. “Whatever, Doctor Spock.”

“You’re clouding your mental capacity,” Pope continued self-righteously. It didn’t annoy her as much as it once had, since she knew it came from a place of worry. After so long, she was able to shrug it off rather well.

“Good,” Liz retorted, more sincerely than Pope expected.

He shifted nervously, then turned to ask Kie something.

.   .   .

Slats of sunlight shone on the bed through the gaps in the blinds, making the room feel impossibly cozy. Since Liz had slept in there the night before, she had made the bed. It wasn’t really a cleanliness issue. She could have a perfectly neat bed and then not cast a second glance at the piles of books and clothes, and papers in the case of her desk. It was more that if she didn’t make her bed everyday, it made her want to wash her hands more, with hotter water. It made her want to pick off her nail polish and gnaw on her bottom lip. But she found herself feeling totally content as she laid on the bed, atop the fuzzy throw and the smooth comforter, piles stacked properly behind her. She rested her head on her crossed arms, the sleeve of her worn cardigan soft against her cheek. Her sock feet were raised in the air, one calf crossed over the other. She thought about the morning, when she had woken up with JJ’s arm draped over her. It had been the first time she had anxiously made the bed in JJ’s room in a long time. It had been so familiar that it broke her heart a bit. It broke her heart more when JJ had excitedly begun preparing for the dress burning almost immediately after waking up.

Over breakfast, he had enthusiastically gone over everyone’s duties to put together the “funeral for Lizzie’s funeral dress.” She smiled at him gratefully, but her heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t reconcile the JJ who took care of her after tragedy with the one she had encountered on the last night in August. She thought about the feel of his hand on her waist, dancing with her in the Stoner’s Grove at a party, the warmth of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of her dress. They hadn't kissed, so they could explain it away if anyone asked. That had been before the invisible change had taken place. And she could feel it again where his hand had rested earlier in the day, when they had stood around a bonfire in the backyard, while the remains of her dress smoked in the air and then floated away. She had stared into the orangey flames, so strangely pure against the pristine blue of the October sky, until her eyes were hot and dry. JJ had placed an affectionate hand on her waist for only a moment, giving her hip a comforting squeeze. And she simply didn’t know what to do with it.

But she decided to clear the thoughts of him from her head, running her fingers delicately over the soft throw blanket. Touch, she thought to herself. Touch was her favorite of the senses when she was high. Her feet were up near the head of the bed, her head at the bottom. She had often laid in the same position, feet up in the air, as a little girl. She and John B had made a habit of going out to the edge of the dock and looking down at their reflections in the water, sometimes with their heads leaning completely over the green murkiness below. It was the kind of childhood foolishness you could only see the error in with hindsight. She let herself get lost in the music which played from the bluetooth speaker on the desk. She had turned it down to a medium volume, hoping she could get one of her mellower playlists to lull her to sleep. But the sunshine was too beautiful to miss. She let it warm her back as she laid there, listening to the sound of The 1975’s “Be My Mistake.” Sometimes, it was too sad for her to stomach. When high, though, she could stand it enough to listen. She barely even welled up this time.

The screen door slammed shut, and she could hear the rest of the Pogues reenter the house, likely to finish up whatever homework or enjoy the remnants of the Sunday afternoon. The sound of JJ’s boots approached, and Liz had to prepare herself for a moment before he came in. She didn’t know what instinct she would follow: the softening of her heart or the guarding of her gaze.

He opened the door with a warm creak, smirking when he saw she was still awake, from the way her feet swung side-to-side gently. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replied huskily.

He shut the door behind him and bent over to unlace his boots. He tugged them off and discarded them in the corner absently before he came to sit down next to her on the bed.

“I was just coming to get my earth science homework, but I guess you don’t need quiet like I thought.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, lost in the song.

“You still wanna go to sleep?” he asked.

She may have had a pretty high tolerance, but she had smoked more of the good shit, and it was likely heightened in effect when she was so sleep-deprived. He was surely the more sober one of the two. The gut instinct to hold her hair back, rub circles on her skin, guide her sweetly through her intoxication, overtook him as it had so many times in the past. But he wasn’t her boyfriend, as she had pointed out one morning after he had fought a Touron. And it wasn’t his job to take care of her, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

“No,” she said softly. Her words came out in a pensive whisper. “I’m just having a nice time listening to the music.”

He snorted a laugh. “You’re so adorable.”

“You can’t say shit like that to me, JJ,” she said immediately, though still in that same gentle tone. Raising her head a bit, she met his slightly glassy, reddish gaze with her own to match.

He shut his mouth and averted his eyes, nodding. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” she said. “You just can’t.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

Then after a moment, she asked: “Do you still wanna hang out?”

He smiled. “Yeah. ‘Course.”

“Alright,” she said, putting her head back down.

JJ got more comfortable, back resting against the wall behind the bed, getting ready to listen to her playlist. Liz’s playlists were, in fact, pretty infamous amongst their group of friends. When she couldn’t afford presents for birthdays or holidays, she made them playlists.

“So, since you’re in earth science, tell me again why they declassified Pluto as a planet?” she asked. “I mean, I know it doesn’t have emotions or anything, but imagine being a planet and having your planet status taken away from you. I feel bad for it, y’know?”

JJ laughed.

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