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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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Hunter's Delight

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, violence, blood, coercion, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A peaceful getaway turns to horror when you encounter a strange man in the woods.

Character: Kraven the Hunter

Note: So, this isn't what I was planning as my birthday fic but my other fic was just not happening lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The smell of cedar tinges the air. Birds wing across the pale blue sky and critters rustle in the twigs and leaves that trim the forest floor. Shadows nestle between the trunks and lend an ominous hue to any otherwise harmonious landscape.

It’s a long needed escape from urban crush. The fatigue of your nine to five recedes as your brief getaway frees you of the unseen cuffs of modern survival. There are no emails, no memos, or stuffy meetings. There is only you and naked outdoors.

Oh, and your friends.

You never traveled much. Most of the time you had off, you were too tired to do much more than the bare minimum. You hadn’t even thought of it until Larissa invited you. It just never occurred to you to spend the money or the energy. Now you’re more than happy you did.

You follow the snakish path that dips between valleys and over hills, up steep walkways and across sprawling plateaus. The lush green is endless, littered with patches of thick forest, and the occasion running river crested by an old wooden bridge.

Larissa chatters loudly about your eventual return to the cottage. She dreams of kebabs cooked over the campfire and some fruity sangria. You trail the others, four of you in all. Jodi and Cameron ahead of you as your host leads the way. Work friends, but you suppose more now that you’re here.

The river water sends up a fresh scent from behind the looming trunks and you glance over at the gleaming ripples, almost twinkling as you admire them between the trees. You could do this every day. Just wander until you can’t move anymore.

“I can’t believe this is your first time up north,” Jodi says, drawing you from your mind.

“Uh, yeah, never did much exploring I guess,” you shrug.

“Even as a kid?”

“Nope. I think we had one family trip and we didn’t even make it to the amusement park,” you chuckle dryly, “ah well.”

“Ugh, I remember one time, when we were camping, my brother, Toby,” Cameron begins, “he put a frog in my bag. I screamed so loud. My mother didn’t even believe me.”

“Damn,” you remark. Cam tends to do that. Everything in some way relates back to one of her stories.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Larissa stops and faces you, “we have to decide who’s cooking.”

“It’s fine, I said I would–” You begin.

“Boo, that’s no fun,” she snips, “we used to play this game when I was a kid. I always won. Whoever collects the least acorns in ten minutes cooks.”

“Acorns?” You look around nervously. “Where?”

“You shouldn’t get lost. If you go too far, just stay still and we’ll find you,” she brushes off your concern, “it’ll be fun. And I know all the best spots!”

“That’s no fair,” Jodie pouts.

“How about I start after you. I’ll only do five minutes,” she barters.

“How do we know time’s up?” Cam picks a fingernail.

“Like I said, if you don’t show up, we’ll come find you.”

“I guess…”

“Alright, how about, whoever collects the most gets princess treatment for the night. The rest of us will have to serve you drinks and get you whatever you want,” she offers with a smug grin.

You bite your lip but don’t argue. It’s obvious she’s going to win but you wouldn’t mind the chance to explore a bit more. Besides, you never complain about time alone. It’s so peaceful here, that might just be a reward of its own.

“Come on!” Larissa claps, “bragging rights are included.”

“Fine,” Cameron sighs, “I guess it’s not completely stupid.”

“It’ll be fun just to wipe that look off your face, Lar,” Jodi snorts.

You shrug and give a nod. You have little faith in your foraging skills but you don’t mind running to the cooler a few extra times that night. Besides, the cottage did get a bit suffocating with all of you there. This might be your only chance for alone time.

“Alright, on three,” Larissa declares, “one, two–” Jodi sprints off and Larissa holler, “I didn’t say three!”

Cameron runs after her and Larissa scowls. She puts her hands on her hips and drags her foot over the grass. You give a sheepish smile and awkwardly sway.

“Guess they won’t know if I start early,” she says and sets off in the opposite direction.

You slowly putter away as you head for the river. You have no intent of gathering acorns, you just want to watch the water. You weave between the trees and come out to the shore along the winding river. You watch the lazy flow and the little minnows flitting beneath the clear ripples.

You get closer and sit on your knees in the dirt. You drag your hands through the water and push your fingers into the silt. You bend slightly and look at your reflection. You're almost hypnotised by the ambiance.

You close your eyes and pull your hands from the water. You place them on your shorts and take a deep breath. You want to hold onto this moment, to remember it once you're stuck back behind a keyboard.

You smile and your lashes flutter open. You see your reflection again, then it suddenly darkens as a shadow comes up behind you. At first, you’re confused, but you assume it’s one of the girls trying to scare you.

“Very funny–”

You fly forward into the water, arms flailing out as you splash into the shallow depth. Your head is pushed down to the riverbed as a foot crush your skull. You cough and gag, gulping down water as your breath bubbles out of your nose. Your head begins to thrum as you choke until at last, the weight relents and you rip your head from beneath the surface.

A sharp boot cracks into your ribs and sends you onto your back. You heave as you land flat, keeping your head just above the water. A man stands above you, crystal blue eyes boring into you as a growl creases in his forehead. He squats and grabs your chin, unsheathing a large knife from his belt.

“Scream and I’ll cut your throat out,” he warns as he pokes the knife tip along your lip, hushing you as he turns it slowly.

You shut your mouth, eyes rounding in terror as you watch him. Who is he? What does he want? You can’t let him know about the other girls. At least, you hope he doesn’t already.

“Listen to me,” he traces along your jaw and down to your throat, “you will do exactly as I say.”

You blink, saying nothing. His voice is gristly and unbending. His dark hair curls behind his head and he wears a thick beard that thins to coarse stubble. Around his neck is a thick cord with a single fang hanging from it.

Your eyes nearly cross as you try to see the knife in his hand..

“Gold locket. Pearl set in the middle. Bring it to me.”

You stare at him searchingly. It’s like he’s speaking another language. Or your brain just won’t hear them as fear courses through your veins.

“She wears it around her neck.”

You see the golden chain around Larissa’s neck. You noticed it once or twice, never really thinking much of it. You just thought it must be sentimental. Your lip trembles as the man clutches the back of your neck and leans into the blade.

“Why?”

He chuckles, “you want to live. I can feel it. So no more questions and I might let you. The locket, midnight. I will wait here. If you do not come, I will come to you. And you can weep with their heads in your bed.”

You gulp as he smirks at you. You nod slowly as he loosens his grip. He releases you. You almost sink back under the water as he stands and you push yourself up. He swirls the thick knife then holds it up to reflect the sunlight.

“Such a beautiful day, it would be a pity if it were to end in blood.”

“I will bring you the locket. I promise.”

“I know you will,” he says as he struts towards the trees, “it is why I chose you.”

You sit dumbfounded, staring after him until you can see nothing but the trees. You shiver as the water stirs calmly around you, soaking you through to the point of discomfort. You climb out of the river and wrings out the fabric of your shirt.

As you look around at the serenity of the pastoral bliss, you can’t fathom that the man had ever truly been there. The tenderness in your neck assures you otherwise. He was and he will be back.

☀️

“What happened to you?” Cameron giggles as you appear from the trees.

“No acorns, huh?” Jodi boasts.

“I uh… dropped them in the river. Tripped,” you lie. You’re too stunned to explain further.

“You okay?” Larissa asks.

“Yep, fine,” you utter.

“Well, Jodi got eleven and Cameron got eight, and I… got twelve.”

“Cheater,” Jodi mutters under her breath.

You’re thankful they’re too distracted by their child’s game to be very concerned. You throw up your hands. “Looks like I’m cooking,” you resign dully.

“And I get to be pampered,” Larissa trills tauntingly.

“Whatever. You’ll be lucky if I don’t dump the sangria on you,” Cameron warns.

Larissa laughs. The girls might play up their cattiness but it’s just friendly competition. Another thing you never really had growing up. Friends.

They leave the acorns in the grass. You’re quiet as you follow them onwards. You look back just before you’re out of sight of the river. You don’t see the man but you have no doubt he meant what he said. He knew about Larissa and the necklace, that’s enough for you.

🌄

As a gracious loser, and a terrified individual, you volunteer to make a pitcher of sangria for the other girls. They happily accept the offer and go out to get the fire started. The night is quickly setting in as you watch the time on your phone. As there is only one solar charger amongst the bunch of you, your battery stays at fifty percent. Without reception, it isn’t of much use anyhow.

You mix the wine, brandy, lemonade and fruit together with a wooden spoon. You hear Larissa giving orders outside over the crackle of the fire. The locket with the pearl. You know she’s still wearing it, you looked for it and there it was, around her neck. What use is jewelry all the way up here.

Your thoughts are split by the snap of the spring door. Jodi tramps inside and huffs.

“Is the wine ready yet? She’s driving me nuts.”

“I’ll bring it out,” you assure her, “why don’t you grab the kebabs, they’re ready to go.”

You nod to the pan of skewers and she lets out a disappointed grumble. She takes the pan and leaves you again to ponder your impromptu mission. You’re not stupid enough to ask for the locket. You watch the oranges swirl in the wine mixture…

You can’t. Can you? You peek over your shoulder and peek through the window. They wouldn’t notice. You could say you used more wine than you thought.

You turn your back to the window. The girls can survive a few bendaryls, they won’t survive that man and his knife. You can deal with hating yourself. That’s never been hard.

You tiptoe across the kitchen. You don’t know why you think they’ll hear you, your guilt just makes you paranoid. You go down to the room and search in the lower bunk for your bag. You take out your box of emergency benadryl and slide out a full insert. Just enough for an edge, nothing deadly.

You sneak back out and drop the pills one by one into the sangria. You stir and you stir and you stir. Finally, you’re content that your potion is complete. Your curse is pharmaceutical allergy relief with a side of drowsiness. The girls are probably too thirsty to notice you’re not sharing.

🌙

Jodi stumbles back from the outhouse. You watch her cautiously, ready to hop up and catch her. She manages to make her way back to the fire and falls into the folding chair with a burp.

“Damn, that sangria is strong,” Cameron chimes.

“And it’s going right through me,” Jodi slurs into a giggle.

“Me too,” Larissa stands up and puts her hands in front of her shorts, “my turn.”

You listen to her go around the side of the cottage, her sandals scraping and scuffling. Jodi leans her head back and snorts, waking herself and lurching forward. You get up and keep her from falling out of her chair.

“Hey, you should lay down,” you say.

“Lightweight,” Cameron teases and gulps down a mouthful. You try not to cringe.

“Whatever, I’m fine,” Jodi babbles.

“Come on,” you get her up, letting her lean on you heavily.

She’s dragging her feet as you get her across the yard and to the steps of the deck. You haul her up and through the back door. Inside, you feel her slacken on your arm until you're pretty much carrying her. You get her into her bed and roll her onto her stomach, already snoring.

You check the time. It’s late. Just after eleven.

You go back out, the blaze of the fire obscuring your view of the yard.

“Not you too,” Cameron chortles as Larissa falls past the chair trying to sit.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Bleh, listen to the office administrator, she never gives it up,” Larissa sneers, “isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agree softly. You want all the abuse she has to offer you. You deserve it.

“You wanted to be princess for the night,” Cameron calls over, “let her carry you to bed.”

You ignore Cameron as you steady Larissa and direct her around the fire. You take the same path with the same end, dumping her in the singular queen she claimed for herself in the main bedroom. You make sure she’s on her stomach and shake out your nerves.

You flip on the flashlight built into your phone and shine it over her. You apologise before you unclasp the necklace. It’s heavier than you expect. You tuck it in your pocket and leave her.

One more.

Cameron meets you at the door to your surprise. She’s yawning and staggering. You let her pass as she mutters about the fire. You follow her, making sure she gets to her bed before you go outside to kill the fire.

When all is dark and still, you look up at the moon and measure the journey ahead of you. What if you get lost? What if you can’t remember the way back? You think you do. Doesn’t matter. It’s almost half past and you need to get going.

You grip your phone as you come out around the front of the cottage. You remember that you came from the right… didn’t you? You turn on your flashlight again as the darkness consumes you. You tremble at the sheer endlessness of the night.

As you set off, you hear every twig snap, every branch sway, every bat squeaking from some hidden nook. You are exposed to the unseen. Easy prey.

You hear the low trickle of water, louder in the dearth of night. You use it to guide you, flinching as leaves brush against you. You shine the light around you, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings. It only illuminates the shadows and adds to the depths of the blackness.

A noise rolls in the darkness. Thunderous as it grows louder, footsteps making themselves heard, a beast closing in. His laughter comes from all around you, dizzying you as you spin and try to find him.

At once, he quiets and you hear nothing but the stirring of the breeze. No footsteps, not laughter, only the frantic beat of your heart. You stop and squint as you shakily raise your phone, making out the thick trunk of a tree.

There is a sudden warmth behind you. His hand is on yours, squeezing before he rips away your cell. You hear it land in the grass. His other arm hooks around your middle. His breath seeps through your hair and across your scalp.

“Give it.”

You reach into your pocket, squirming as you dig out the necklace. You hold it up with a whimper and he wraps your hand up in his again. His rough skin sends a shiver through you. He hums above the soft tinkle of the chain.

“Very good,” he keeps you close, “you are an obedient little pet, aren’t you?”

You don’t move, you don’t speak. He has what he wants. Now you want to go.

“I’ve decided,” he says bluntly. You hold your breath, trying to decipher his meaning. You try to pull away and his arm hooks tighter around you. “I will take you too.”

“What?” You quiver and grasp his arm, shoving on it without result, “no, let me go–”

“You can scream for me,” he walks you forward until you collide with a tree, putting your hands out to keep from being crushed against the bark, “the louder, the better.”

Your fingertips curl painfully against the tree. He traps you against the tree as he lets out a grow, the heat of his breath and body enshrines you. You shake and whine as panic sinks into your chest.

“Please, let me go. Please, I did what you asked–”

“I’m not asking,” he snarls and grabs your shoulder.

He spins you so violenly you can’t help but fall back against the tree. The subtle friction of metal on leather cools your blood as a sliver of moonlight gleans off the knife’s edge. You brace the tree as you babble dumbly. You don’t want to die.

He brings the curve tip of the knife to the hem of your shirt and yanks up, shearing open the front so that it falls open, revealing the bralette beneath. He makes as quick work as that, slicing up the middle and exposing you to the night chill.

He stands over you, bearing in on you as he bends slowly. You gasp as he clutches a handful of your hair and pulls your head to the side. He leans in and grazes your throat with his teeth. You writhe, caught in the arrest of his gruff touch.

He bits down, pinching your flesh until you cry out. He snickers and unclenches his teeth, trailing further down, teasing along your collarbone and over the tender flesh of your shoulder, once more nipping into you. He tortures your flesh, sucking it until it throbs.

He goes lower, tracing his path first with the metallic cold of the blade, then piercing with his teeth. He bites into the curve of your tit, he leaves sore marks blazing all around, at last taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around your hard bud, toying with it, sucking, flicking, until finally he bites again.

You sob as he sinks his teeth in. You feel the flesh break and the warmth trickles from you into his mouth. He hums as he drinks it in, unlatching to let your rough skin turn fiery in the open air. He tends to the next, just as cruelly, as your body wracks in shock and agony.

How can this be happening? It can’t be real. You don’t understand. Who is this man? Where did he come from? You close your eyes, trying to hide from reality as it nips at your flesh.

You drone as he leaves a trail of spit and blood down your stomach, biting again and again, a tortured trail down to the top of your denim shorts. Your legs shake, threatening to give out.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tisks and pinches your thigh, “you are weak but you will not give up, pet.”

He cuts along the seams of your shorts, left then right. You tremble with bubbling, teary gulps. The denim falls to your feet and he uses the end of his knife to play with the cotton elastic of your panties. He clicks his tongue but does not voice his amusement further.

He drops to his knees, a hand framing your hip as your legs quake. He squeezes, his thumb jabbing into your pelvis. He drags his knife down the front of your panties and hooks the fabric along the tip. He tugs until they rip, breaking through the fabric, cutting a line along your cunt.

He turns the flat of the blade against your flesh, grazing the folds before pulling it away. You bat your lashes as terror overflows. Your head lolls as your muscles twitch. You see the man’s faint shadow in the slats of moonlight breaking between the cedar trunks, you hear him lick the blade with a purr.

A silver shine reflects the eerie night glow as he raises his knife. You scream as he aims it toward you, stabbing into the wood just beside you. Your heart hammers to cacophony as he laughs at your fright.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, his calloused fingers mean against your soft skin. He feels along the shorn cotton and dips two fingers into the opening. He delves between your lips, flicking his fingers up and down your cunt. Your legs quiver and you clutch onto the divots in the bark, fighting not to fold into a heap.

He slides his fingers back and forth, feeling every part of you, doting on your clit, only to trail back to your entrance. You suck in air sharply and sob. Please just do it. Just let it be over with.

He pushes into you. Slowly, Deliberately. He leans forward and nuzzles the soft vee of hair along your cunt and sighs into you as he wiggles his fingers deeper and deeper. You groan as he stretches you. Even as your body reacts, even as the slickness welcomes the intrusion, it hurts.

He growls as he meets some resistance. You clench around his knuckles and he rams his fingers into you, to their limit. You shriek and your sandals slip in the dirt. Your nail catches in the veins of the tree and snaps.

The coolness of his tongue frightens you as it pokes out and slides along your lips. He tilts his head and glides between your folds, doting on your clit with furious flutters. You gulp and gasp, panting as a new heat blooms inside of you. Your pulse races with more than adrenaline.

He eases his fingers back then in again. Your cunt clenches around him, constricting as his tongue toys with you, flurries your nerves to an unbearable storm. Your insides clutch as rivulets of hot and cold gather in your core, mingling to a fiery roil.

You spasm, stunned by your own body. You stand on your toes as your muscles tauten and your nerves ping off each other. You cum with a raspy whine, forced over the edge by the battle of his thrusting fingers and diligent tongue.

His laughter rumbles through you as he indulges in your dissemblance. He slows as you heave helplessly. He slides his fingers out of you, leaving an emptiness there, and wipes your cum down your leg. He parts from your cunt entirely, a rocky snarl as he stands.

You smell yourself on his breath as he comes close again. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you away from the tree. Your legs tingle and shake beneath you. He turns and hurls you down to the ground. You land on your knees, hitting your elbows in the dirt.

He grabs your hips, keeping them up. He kneels behind you, one hand brushing up your back and forcing your chest down to the ground. You don’t fight him, you have nothing left.

He feels along your panties, hooking his fingers in the rent of the fabric and tears it further up your ass. He gropes you roughly, digging his nails into your skin and dragging them up, leaving hot scratches along your ass. He runs his hand from your shoulders to your hip, gripping you as his other hand retreats from your ass.

The air stills and your ears ring as each breath scalds in your chest. You stare into the deep void of the forest as his zipper splits through the silence. Time slows as dread suffocates you. This is it. This is really happening.

His fingers tickle along your ass and you twitch. He reaches your cunt, rubbing and spreading your lips, taunting you as he curves his fingers along it. He edges closer on your knees, pushing yours wider, and he pulls his hand away.

He prods you with his tip, making a slow path down to your entrance. He circles it as he groans, basking in the tension of that moment. He leans against you until his tip slips into you. You strain around him, heaving into a horrifying wail as he pushes deeper.

He reaches to your neck, pinning your face in the dirt as he jerks his hip, filling you with the single, agonizing motion. You cry out louder, your horror echoing into the sky. Your head quakes and your ears vibrate with the volume of your own grief, rising from you without restraint.

He slides back and snaps into you again. The slap of flesh underlines your breathy weeps. His weight puts an ache in your neck and down your spine. Your fingers dip into the dirt as you clutch at handfuls of dirt. He bucks again, again, again, each time growling with delight.

His palm cracks against the side of your ass, a new pain radiating through your hips. With each thrust, he smacks you, curling his nails into you, pinching, only to do it again. You whimper and wail, trapped in his fervour as you taste soil and the salt of your tears.

He bends over you, hooking his arm around your middle and the other around your neck. He sits up with you against him. His hand brushes up your side and kneads your chest as he rocks you in his lap. Your head lolls as you hiccup through your tears.

He ruts from below, splitting you in two as his muscle bulges around your neck. You wheeze as he squeezes tighter and tighter, until the world speckles to grey and black. You feel his final, jarring rams as they throb in your core, and the sudden burst of heat inside you. Almost soothing as it assures you of the end.

But it is not. He puts you on your back. Senseless, dazed, he’s on top of you, crawling over you like an animal. He fucking you against the ground, holding your leg bent against him, biting into the flesh along your shoulder. Torturing you from the inside until he’s spent again.

Not spent, not done. You’re on your side, the world flickering beneath teared-webbed lashes, each ruts shaking you. Legs together, he claps against your thighs until again he empties into you with a raucous roar.

Again, again, again. Until you’re smeared with dirt, grass, sweat, and cum. Until you’re left an empty husk across the forest floor.

Your eyelids part as he pulls the blade from the tree, a softer light emanating from the sky as the dawn approaches. He sheathes the knife as he marches around you, poking you with the dirt of his boot. He stops and squats at your side, a crooked smile on his lips.

“This hunt is not over, pet,” he reaches to brush a roughened thumb across your cheek, “I know you are stronger than this.”

He stands again and rolls his shoulders as he shakes out his mussed curls. He takes a step forward, then another, and another, striding into the sunrise without a look back. You lay prone across the lumpy ground, trying to untangle his words. They are more than a warning, they are a promise.

#kraven the hunter #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #kraven the hunter x reader #one shot #marvel

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thementalshawty · 5 months

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Who’s Your FS PT. 2

Heyyyyyyyyy happy ‘24!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m back with the awaited pt2 to who’s your FS. Now if I’m guessing most of you saw pt1 and just back here for confirmation or for more information, now for those who are new here hellloooooooooo! This is a shorter version of p1 only I’m using one deck for this reading. @silvershiningtarot gifted me the tea leaf oracle deck so that is what I’ll be using for this reading! Thanks baby!! Now REMEMBER THIS IS A GENERAL READING! Take what resonated and leave the rest for others to take in you want something more personal, you’ll have to purchase a reading from me, or any other great reader on here, mmk? Til then just take what resonates with you in this general reading! Choose an emoji and let’s get started and TAROT IS A SUGGESTIVE METHOD, DO NOT RELY ON ANYONE OR ANYTHING TO MAKE OR DICTATE DECISIONS AND MOVES FOR YOUR LIFE! YOU’RE THE POWER!

P4: 🖤

P5 :💞

P6:🫶🏽

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Pile IV

Your spouses have faced major challenges and obstacles in their lives, they’ve climbed many a mountain basically. They aren’t a weak minded person, they got heart p4 and they’re brave! They’ve faced so much they don’t back down from shit! This person is a survivor, a soldier, a warrior lol! I can’t stop bragging about how strong and fierce they are! They’ve been hit with so much shit and they’ve climbed it, I feel like right now they’re facing yet another major challenge in their lives. There’s rats around them, people that are secretly working against them behind their backs, they’re not even aware of it or who it could be cos they’re so focused on what they’re facing. Poor babies! These are my survival mode babies! They have paranoia, they think everyone is after them most likely, they are afraid of peace cos they don’t trust it, they had to defend themselves their whole lives. “All my life I had to fight.” Maybe they had a color purple kind of life, like Celie, or Sofia, but don’t look at the gender of them, it can be male, female, gender less, this person has been through some shit and they still are needing to defend themselves, don’t feel bad for them tho, they can handle it I feel, they’re hella strong but they shouldn’t have to be going through shit just cos they can handle it or they’re strong you know?? They’re a bit defensive too only cos they always had to defend themselves so they don’t understand the concept of constructive criticism or advice from bullying or trying to tear them down, they never had anything healthy to compare the toxicity too. So be mindful of that. They’re successfully overcoming a problem right now! They always land on top! They are the type to get kicked down but have the last laugh. They cannot be defeated, they lose battles but they WIN WARS! Maybe some of them live over a bridge or live where there’s a famous bridge (golden gate bridge I heard so maybe some of them or you are in cali). This person is a new person entering your life not an ex or someone you have met already, you haven’t met this person, you can possibly know of them, but you didn’t meet yet. They are arrogant and boastful and it’s cos what they went through. They are high! Very cocky they got an ego, and it’s cos whoever or whatever crossed them or tried to cause them harm failed and was destroyed leaving them way better than before. So they feel untouchable. They’ve been grieving some kind of loss, they have sorrowful moments especially when they relive or reminisce about what they went through and lost. They’re starting over and recreating their lives, venturing out into new territory or new methods of life, they’re hella creative and idealistic so they are now coming up with new and impressive ways of going about things. They may like watching the sunrise, could’ve been born at sunrise? They’re an early bird most likely. They’re a king/queen to themselves and they don’t need any validation from anyone! EVER! They persevere and never give up, this is how they overcome issues, they’re not the type to just take shit lying down, they’re a fucking fighter. They have plenty of material things, they have a lot of stuff, I’m not seeing hella wealth but they have plenty of money, they can afford whatever they want in that moment. They’re cocky cos they know they fought for everything they have so they feel they’ve earned the right to be cocky. They have been disappointed by friends and lovers in their lives who I feel have plotted behind their backs, it’s almost like I’m getting the rise of Tony Montana from Scarface, maybe they like that movie, they have a nice house and nice shit in their homes (random). They’re over thinkers, I told you they’re paranoid, they think that everything may crash and burn and they will have to struggle again like they’re used to but they are getting better and better each challenge or obstacle. I think that they’re bigger than you, some of them are tall, heavier, curvy, just bigger than you some in height some in weight. They are coming out of their cocoon a butterfly they are going through

Yet another transition and transformation, it’s for the better they are going to emerge from this so much better, stronger and more abundant I feel, I think that they always end up financially secure or blessed after every challenge they end up gaining some money that’s why they have so much shit I feel, they love to celebrate themselves. They are a happy go lucky type of person because they have been through shit and they have won every single war they’ve been in so they feel like they’re blessed and have good luck, others may gossip and say that they’re a lucky person but they’re really just good like that! They deserve their position in life, I promise you they do!

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

Pile V

Happiness is important to this person. This is the type of person where money doesn’t matter to them. They just want to do what makes them the happiest, not that they aren’t taken care of financially, but they aren’t a shallow or materialistic individual. They love standing in the sun, they probably laugh loud and proud they are one of the happiest people you’ll ever meet in your life, they hate being upset or angry, it takes a lot to make them mad I feel. They have built a nest for themselves, they have a cozy home I feel, they are filled with so much love, they’re emotionally secure and they come from a loving family, or they want to create a loving and emotionally secure family. They definitely want kids, family is important to them which is why I think they were indeed brought up in a loving home at least some of them did, very warm and fuzzy person. They believe in love and happiness they believe love will bring them true happiness! I love them! They have a two faced friend in their life right now tho, this person around them is a fake ass person being fake but they only see the one face right now, idk if they don’t wanna face it or they genuinely don’t know about this person but they have a fake ass friend amongst them P5. They can be a cat person, they can even feed the birds or have a bird house at their house, you know what I feel too, they have one of those fountains for the birds outside their house, a family of birds could live outside their house. They have great fortune, like I said they are taken care of financially, I feel like because they don’t chase money like how everyone else is so obsessed with the bag, they’re not which is why money and fortune finds them simply they don’t chase anything but their happiness honestly. They are a very blessed person, a human four leaf clover 🍀! You’ll feel blessed around them too, maybe some of them are born in march, I do get wager sign vibes from this deck. Their skin is on the darker side, especially if you’re looking for a wife she’s got a darker complexion than you or her hair! It can also be their mom, or sister only because family is hella important so is their culture too, I feel some of you guys share the same culture others differ but even the ones that share the same culture you may not be into it as deep as they are they are devout to their culture and family. They may have gotten their money through inheritance, or winning something it could’ve even been some kind of windfall either way it came to them very naturally and it was like a stroke of luck or a blessing they are wealthy, they could’ve even inherited a beautiful piece of property. Something wealthy and grand they have! Money or some grand property. They are protected from negative forces, their guides and ancestors don’t play with them, anything negative that comes their way doesn’t affect them directly or heavily! They’re blessed frfr, truly lucky person! I’m happy for this person! Fuck that fake ass friend tho. P5 you gotta winner here! They may own a boat, 🛥️ yacht? This pile I’m getting old money vibes, wealth, old Victorian homes and castles type of background with this person. Idk. I see that because this person is so blessed and rarely sees any negativity, they aren’t very used to being told anything less than great, they need to learn how to accept valid criticism, I feel they feel anyone telling them anything less than satisfactory is a hater. They don’t want their happiness interfered with. I feel like there is some criticism that they need to listen to. So they have some downfalls in this person. Some of them could’ve been born rich. I feel like they are spoiled, the silver spoon ones. They are only used to having the best so anything less is not what they pay attention too. Others I feel they inherited money but before they did they accepted the fact that things suck sometimes so when anyone come to them with it they try to brush it off cos they know life sucks sometimes but they pay no mind to it which is a high vibe but also low too. They’re a fucking soaring 🦅 EAGLE! They

faced obstacles, struggles and troubles and they triumphed over it, beautifully, so they may be spoiled but they are strong and resilient! They will handle what they need too! Eagle could be a bird they love or I’m hearing maybe some of them have an eagle tatted. This fake ass friend I feel like they are undependable and insincere but they make excuses for them, only to avoid facing an issue, this may be a family friend? I feel there’s a hesitation to cut this person off, this person your spouse cannot depend on yet…….. that person still around I bet. Ugh! 😩! Your person needs to stop being so nice, they are sweet as fuck and I feel this person uses the family and your person. They are the type to get warnings ahead of time, whether it be their intuition or an actual person warning them but I feel like they always get the heads up! They are about to face a problem in the near future if they’re not facing nothing now. Some of you will be dealing with a person with white, blonde, or gray hair, some could dye it, some older, shit some is both! They’re the type of come from the families of legacies, like fashion companies, hotels, inventions, etc. They could have been next in line? I feel like with others who gained the wealth I feel like they worked but it came rather quickly, your spouse found what they loved and made millions off it. This pile is a lot about their possessions because even the next card is letting you know that right now they are increasing in material wealth right now, spiritual growth as well, which why I feel like this fake ass friend will be seeing the door soon this year! They could’ve had a goldfish as a pet or they do right now (Random). They love to vacation and take time away from everything. They’re a traveler! They are the type to drop everything and go to the fuccin Mykonos or Fiji just cos they can! They are extremely wealthy! Billionaire status to some of them I feel the ones that come from money in their family. Others they are millionaires or damn near close asfcc they could be on vacation right now, or they’re in desperate need of one.

🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Pile VI

They are highly praised and thought of, this may be the fame pile and nah not entertainment celebrity but a celebrity in their fields. They’re know as probably gods/goddesses in their field of work. They’re very loved and adored by many, they have lots of fans and people throwing themselves at them. They’re very loved! 🥰 Love is hella important to them. They want to love so much! They search for true love, they may wear bows in their hair, remember bows are just accessories for any gender!!! They could be born in November or you may meet them around that time. I feel like Thanksgiving may be important to them too, they may love helping others, volunteering, I am hearing turkey drives. This is your true love by the way P6. They are in some trouble right now or have gotten into some trouble, either they were making accusations or someone was making accusations against them. I feel they’re in the hot seat at the moment or they’re putting someone else in the hot seat. I feel like it’s the first one, lots of people may be jealous of their fame, success so they’re doing anything they can to make them fall and suffer, lose that credibility. They feel like something is lacking in their life, I feel like it’s love but it can be anything, from money or goals, they just feel like they’re lacking something in their lives. They also I feel keep their emotions tucked in a barrel, I’m hearing some shit about image so maybe that’s how they move, they move the way they think they should to keep the fame. Opportunities are waiting for them at the door, opportunities that they create for themselves. Great businessmen/women! They handle the shit right! I’m not sure if they have a lot of money I don’t think they do I think they have a lot of fame, and notoriety but I don’t feel like they are rich or wealthy enough yet, they aren’t struggling they’re building up but they’re not where they want to be right now. They are about to have an exciting event that I feel will bring them in everything that they want. I feel like you guys may meet an exciting event. I feel like they may have a gong or like the sound of them ? (Random). They will be successful that’s guaranteed I’m seeing, they took their time, planned right and worked their fucking asses off they will be hella successful this year !!! This is a NEW PERSON! You don’t know them, you haven’t met them, like p4 you could’ve heard of them but you haven’t met them yet, this person hasn’t entered your life yet but they will, I think this year!!!! As soon as I said that a month card came out man!!! May!!!! They can be a Taurus, or Gemini, Scorpio or Sagittarius. They hella sensual. They may like to eat! You may meet in May. They have flopped a few times coming up in their lives, they’ve tried many different approaches and ways and have been unsuccessful. They didn’t give up they kept going and told themselves that they would be better next time and they were going to make it! They’re very focused i am getting earth sign energy major Capricorn energy especially! They are very poetic. Some of them are writers, or write with quill. 🪶. They are so creative and they are getting the start they deserve, they just want to make it, they just want to make it in what they love and continue getting the love for it, I honestly hope they do. Things are going to change for the better for them, they will make it and be successful and they will be triumphant and whatever they are facing in life. They are a bit arrogant and boastful, they aren’t a dick but they’re very egotistical and they don’t play about what they have, don’t cross these people either I feel like bad karma happens to those who cross your spouses, hella protected in the spirit world and I feel they know that and that’s why they are so cocky well a part of it, they are loud and they are goin to be heard no matter what, they show off too, I’m telling you major Capricorn vibes, this person is on their way to becoming CEO’s and Bosses this year yahhhhhh!

📖 📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

Well thanks for tuning in!

Happy fuccin new years🎉

Get ready for the new year it’ll be killer!

Up’s and down’s but you’re a lot further than you were before so don’t forget it!!

I hope you enjoyed the reading and it brought you confirmation and clarity. TRY NOT TO COMMENT ANY THING ABOUT WHAT YOU READ! Some people look at the comments and are swayed to choose a certain pile based on someone else’s confirmation so please! If you have anything you want to say dm me, send in an ask, please try to comment only your feelings about the reading not any revealing information if that makes sense! Thanks babessss!

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anisespice · 1 year

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“ headshot ” || tokyo rev.

synopsis: how the bonten execs. would react to a gun being pointed at you/your head.

pairing: bonten x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, gun violence, reader cries in some, mentions of bodily harm (only on the antags), and i think that’s it

notes: thought of this while on a car ride, staring at trees…not sure what that says about me, but here she is lol i’m a little iffy on mikey’s since i think his was the shortest, but i liked keeping some of these open-ended. hope you enjoy!

manjiro ッ

Wouldn’t react much on the outside, but on the inside that man could probably melt a building with his rage alone. It occurred during a small gathering amongst investors, corrupt and all. You had been by his side throughout the whole night until you left to go to the bathroom…that was several minutes ago. He’s already a paranoid man, so the moment the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, he gave Sanzu a pointed look—Find her.

However, that wouldn’t be necessary.

Before the cotton candy-haired gangster even had time to get excited about the potential hunt, some bootlicker came barreling through the crowd with you in a headlock, and a gun pressed into your temple. Both of you looked disheveled, no doubt your doing from putting up a good fight, he proudly noted. The fucker probably ambushed you in the bathroom, taking his opportunity when you left Mikey’s side—Pussy-ass bitch. He didn’t know if the guy was bold or just plain stupid standing smack-dab in the lion’s den, threatening the only life Mikey found precious.

“Nobody moves! Or I’ll blow her goddamn brains out!”

Didn’t matter, though. He’d surely pay with his.

sanzu ッ

Over a game of poker, some guy whose luck just wasn’t on his side decided he deserved retribution—And you were unfortunately the one to pay it forward. You were perched on Sanzu’s lap, sitting prettily as you laughed at the silly men crying after taking a heavy loss from your man. For him, it was like nails on a chalkboard hearing you mock the table alongside that crackhead, his inferiority complex spewing venomous thoughts in his head that you needed to be taken down a couple notches.

A death wish. That dumbass had a death wish.

He abruptly stood, knocked the table over and aimed his sorry excuse of a gun right at you, rendering everyone else speechless. Sanzu barely reacted but felt you startle, cooing softly in your ear as he lovingly tapped you on the thigh in reassurance. You relaxed instantly, eyeing down the barrel of the gun with mirth as the guy began to shake. Blame it on the alcohol, blame it on the heat of the moment, or even the bottomless debt he just put himself in, but one thing was for certain—He fucked up big time, no rush.

You couldn’t see it, but Sanzu had murderous intent hidden behind his calm exterior. And everyone at that table knew it as they scattered from the scene. Probably wasn't the smartest choice to bet his luck against yours, though. For someone who was already absolute dogshit at poker, Sanzu figured he’d be doing this guy a favor anyways.

“How ballsy of you. Guess I’d better cut ‘em off.”

ran ッ

Not gonna lie, whoever decided to test his gangsta like that would surely need to evaporate IMMEDIATELY after because there’s absolutely no SHOT of them, they mama, they second cousin, or even that one neighbor who used to live by them, surviving this man’s wrath.

Especially if they tried it in his own home.

The poor guy didn’t even get to make his demands, Ran was on him so quick he damn near broke the laws of physics. You’d never seen a grown man beg for mercy to the point of literally pissing himself before, but it definitely lightened your mood. You even pointed and laughed, despite the tears still falling down your face from the unpleasant experience. Ran merely grinned adoringly at you as he twisted the assailant’s arm in three different ways.

“There’s my favorite smile ♡. I’ll make sure this fucker suffers for almost taking it away from me, angel.”

rindou ッ

It’s always the younger siblings that are the more unhinged. He already don’t play that bullshit when it comes to you, your safety becoming one of his main priorities the moment you agreed to be with him. Anyone who dared to compromise that would fuck around and find out.

And eventually, someone did.

To be fair, the guy who pulled the gun on you didn’t know any better. As far as he was concerned, he was doing his job in making sure unauthorized civilians in the building were to be eradicated immediately. Especially those who claim to know anyone from Bonten without some sort of proof.

Because your relationship was hush-hush to most, if not all staff, it was no wonder homie didn’t believe you. But, it didn’t matter. As soon as Rindou found out the commotion going on in the lobby had to do with you, and some dumbass subordinate holding a gun to your head???

That walking mullet made that guy’s trigger finger into a necklace and forced him to wear it as a reminder.

kakucho ッ

A wild card, truly. He can’t afford to be anything but mr. calm and collected, especially in hostile situations. On one hand, he knows that getting worked up will do neither of you any good. And on the other hand…

When he got the video of you being held for ransom by some backstreet lowlife, gun pressed to your temple as you’re forced to read out their petty demands, Kakucho wanted to set the whole city on fire. His entire being vibrated, teeth clenched so hard you’d need a crowbar to unhinge it. Even Mikey eyed him sideways for a moment before reassuring him that you would be found, and that those amateurs would be handled. Kakucho growled lowly, dual-colored eyes piercing through the souls of every subordinate in the room.

“If she doesn’t make it out of this alive, none of you will.”

#🍁wasabi #tokyorev #tokyorev scenarios #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #mikey #mikey x reader #bonten #bonten x reader #sanzu #ran and rindou #kakucho

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breekento · 3 months

Note

hello! I love your fics on Higuruma on AO3! wanted to ask if you take any requests for Prisoner!Higuruma who survives culling games and turns himself in jail, but reader regularly visits him and waits for his release ?🥹 A bit of angst but fluff at the end please 💞

thank you for being my first fic request! I probably won’t write these as long as my fics on AO3 because it would take me months lol! But these are fun writing practices for me!

(wc: 1.6k, no smut, just pain and fluff)

“How are you sleeping, doll? Are you getting everything you need?” His voice crackles through the phone.

Your fingers tremble, squeezing the phone so tightly you were surprised it didn’t crumble in your grasp. “I guess so,” you reply in a small voice.

“I don’t like the sound of that, baby.”

You knew better than to lie, he was intelligent and ever observant of every hitch or quirk in your voice. “I just miss you, Hiro,” you say shakily.

He sighs deeply on the other line. “I miss you, too, doll. More than you can ever know. You’re still coming to see me tomorrow, right? I need to see that beautiful face.”

“Of, course.” How could you forget? It has become your weekly routine. Every week, the night before your visits with Hiromi, tossing hangers draped in clothes over your head in search of the perfect outfit. Open toed, too short, mesh, crop top. At some point you would need to go shopping for appropriate clothes to visit your boyfriend in prison but for whatever reason, it felt as if you were accepting defeat.

You knew very little of Hiromi’s mysterious work-life and he liked to keep it that way. The world of sorcery was foreign to you and your knowledge was shallow. Hence, the ringing in your ears, the numb feeling on your fingertips as your brain struggled to connect the dots on that day.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, Hiro,” your voice was raspy, tears flowing down your face as you followed him out of the door.

“I can’t tell you,” he says, cold and distant as if he were desperately trying to disconnect from the harsh world around him.

“Look,” his voice is softer. His hands cup your face, lip distorted and eyebrows twisted upward in agony. “I’ve done bad, bad things. I can’t live with myself like this. You don’t want me here.”

“B-but how do you know? You don’t know,” you fumble over your words.

“I’ll be gone for a while, doll,” his forehead pressed against yours. At that moment, it felt doable. How long? Why? What have you done? You never asked, worried that you wouldn’t accept the answer.

Years had passed and it was doable. Not short of late nights, curled under the covers, fingers searching for the smell of his cologne and hair gel. Elbow stretched as far as you could reach, hand fumbling for the zipper on the back of your dress. Shit, if Hiromi was just here. Small tasks felt big.

Sitting behind your desk, mindlessly searching through your emails as a thinly faced coworker pops her head over the cubicle. “Are you going to the office pot-luck tonight?” She beams.

“Oh,” you jump in your seat. “I have plans.”

She frowns, resting her head on the half-wall. “You never do anything.”

You shrug, looking toward your computer screen. Explaining that you’re visiting your prison boyfriend was not something you cared to delve into with a superficial level of coworker.

The clock strikes 5:00pm and you are your own version of Cinderella, tossing your purse over your shoulder and striding towards the door. Only in this story, you weren’t running away from the probability of your carriage turning into a pumpkin. You were running toward your murderer of a boyfriend, clinging to that 30 minutes of quality time.

It couldn’t have been Hiromi. Not your Hiromi. The Hiromi who stayed awake late at night, holding your body close as it ached on your monthly. The Hiromi with tender fingers that grazed your skin covered in bubbles as you leaned against his skin as warm water poured over the two of you. The Hiromi who replaced the fresh flowers on your dining table every week, knowing you loved the scent. He couldn’t have been a killer. Surely it was for a reason. Was there such a reason?

“I’m here for Hiromi Higuruma,” you say through the window.

The guard’s eyes flicker to yours. Nodding before lifting the phone to her ear. Taking your cue, you sit in the waiting chair. Your legs bounce in anxiety, it never got easier.

The door swings open, a large guard standing in the doorway. Gathering your things, you walk toward the room. The room you knew too well. The tension in the air dissipates as the tall, dark-haired man stands before you. Even in this state, he was strikingly handsome. His hair, slicked back with strands falling forward onto his brow. His lips curl into a smile, eyes twinkling at the sight of you. His orange jump-suit hangs off of his body, wrists clasped together by handcuffs.

“There she is. My beautiful girl,” he purrs as you join him at the large table. It was just the two of you, and the guards that lined the perimeter. How romantic.

In his usual gentleman fashion, he waits for you to find your seat before sitting down himself. You adjust in your seat, face heating up as you scan his face.

“I missed you,” you say bashfully under his intense gaze.

“God. You get more beautiful every time I see you.”

You lean against the table, propping your head on your hands, “When are you ever going to get out of this place?”

“Funny you should say that,” he says with a grin. Your eyes widen, lifting yourself off of the table. “I have a date.”

Your mouth dries. “A-a date?”

“Doll, I’ve been here for 6 years. In a few months, they’re letting me out early for good behavior. Well, parole,” he says with a grin.

You stand from your seat, jaw slack and eyes rapid fire scanning his expression for any sign of a joke. “Y-you’re coming home?”

His eyes soften, looking up at you with those gorgeous sleepy eyes. “I’m going home, baby.”

Every muscle in your body wanted to lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and tackling him to the ground. You haven’t even touched the man in years. You opt for covering your mouth with your hand.

“Keep holding on for just a few more months, doll. I’ll be home before you know it,” his eyes are kind.

“15 minutes,” the voice from the guard echoes throughout the empty room.

“My life here is boring. Tell me about yours. How’s work? How’s the house?”

He had truly set you up for success. You stayed in his home, completely paid for and taken care of by him. You didn’t have to work but you feared insanity spending your days alone in his large house. Brushing your teeth and watching his, dry and unused black toothbrush beside yours. His loafers that sit in the doorway, unworn and clean.

“Work is boring. They had a potluck tonight. My boss somehow thinks I’m the biggest idiot in the world while also piling more on my workload,” you say. It felt silly to complain about your mundane work tasks while he lived here. But he hung on your every word, soaking in the way your lips curled and eyes creased.

“Oh and I spent hours getting rid of weeds last weekend. The second you’re out of this place, that’s your job,” you say with narrow eyes.

He chuckles, leaning forward in his seat, “It will be my pleasure, baby.”

“It’s time,” the guard says. Each week, shattering your heart little by little. You stand, unable to stop the tears welling in your eyes.

“Don’t cry, darling. Not much longer. Just stay strong for a little longer,” his voice pleads.

You nod, using balled up fists to wipe your face. You watch him stand, towering over you as the guards guide him back to the mysterious place he now lived. He turns his face to catch your eyes, face sad as he watches the human form of his heart shatter before his eyes.

The door shuts and once again you are left alone. Only a few more months. Those words propelled you, every action you performed had a meaning suddenly. When you couldn’t reach something on the top shelf, when you couldn’t lift the garbage bag over your head, when you ran out of toilet paper you thought soon he will be here.

And soon came quick enough. You stood in front of your full length mirror, adjusting your sundress that fell over your curves. Your hair was fluffy and soft, draped over your shoulders. He knew what you looked like but you needed his first sight of you to be special, breathtaking.

With shaky hands and clammy feet, you stand outside the prison. If you weren’t leaning your body weight against the car door, you probably would have fallen over. You tap your foot anxiously, any minute now.

The door creaks open, a tall, lanky man dressed in black jeans and soft white shirt, the outfit he had left on that day. Before you could tell your feet to quit, you were running, no, sprinting towards the man.

He matches your speed, arms wrapping around your body as he lifts you from the ground. You bury your face in his neck, giggling through tears that coat his white t-shirt. His muffled laughs find your ears as he spins you, holding your body tightly. It had been years since you felt his hands on your back, his breath in your ear.

“I love you, I love you,” he chants against your face. He set you down, pressing both of his hands on each side of your face. “Let me get a good up-close look at my beautiful girl.”

Your cheeks blushed red under his gaze, “Let’s go home.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #jjk fanfic #higuruma hiromi #jjk x you #higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #hiromi x reader #hiromi jjk

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constantcrisis19 · 8 months

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Home

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

AN: I don't normally write smut, but things do get a little heated in this particular fic, so... enjoy the treat I guess, lol. Though, that being said, I can't say that adding smut is going to be something that I’ll do often, but on the off-chance that it does, I'll be sure to tag properly just to make sure that I don't catch anyone off guard. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,544

Main Page

You had just started on wiping the dust off of the kitchen countertops when you heard the shrill squeak of the front door opening, intentionally left unoiled to act as an alert for uninvited visitors. You and Ghost had installed a proper security system of course, but it didn’t hurt to do things the old fashioned way either.

The flat that the two of you stayed at while on leave was modest, rented mostly because there was a fire escape outside the living room window and another window had a good view of the entrance to the building.

So Ghost would often occupy himself by watching the door when he couldn’t manage to sleep, tormented by memories of things he wouldn’t speak of. But he didn’t keep pieces of his past from you out of distrust.

He refrained because, by the time he’d finished telling you about how he’d been betrayed by his CO and was tortured for months as a result, you were in tears at the pain and suffering that the love of your life had endured, despite your best attempts to be strong and keep the tears at bay as you listened.

Though, it seemed that Ghost didn’t really mind that you were crying instead of being the solid support that he deserved and could lean on while recounting something so horrible, the man simply pulling you into his arms and sitting down right there on the floor while holding you close.

He never brought it up again and you were hesitant to ask if he wanted to talk about it since you had reacted so poorly to just one of the many horrors that he had survived, especially for a soldier that was chosen to be on the most elite task forces that the British military had to offer.

In your defense, you had been on leave -in this very flat, actually- when that disaster of a conversation happened, miles away from work and allowed to be human for a few weeks. So you had made no attempt at suppressing the onslaught of emotions that had torn through you like a bullet, leaving a gaping mess of grief in its wake.

You were dragged out of your somber reminiscing when your ears picked up on the crinkle of weighted grocery bags as they were set onto the small kitchen table for two, followed by the nearly inaudible tap of Ghost’s worn black combat boots drawing closer to your turned back.

You hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped cleaning -just blankly staring down at the damp rag being strangled in your grip- until one of Ghost’s hands tentatively settled on your back, his warm touch grounding.

“Solid, love?” He asked, his pleasantly raspy voice having dropped to a low timbre that was gentle and reassuring all at once.

“Yeah, sorry. Got lost in my head for a minute.” You sighed, leaning into the contact with a slow inhale, your attempt at controlled breathing rendered useless when your exhale turned into a soft huff of laughter as soon as you felt Ghost press his scarred lips to the back of your neck in a fleeting kiss that made your chest ache with affection.

You found yourself awfully tempted to turn around and kiss that reverent mouth until neither of you could think of anything beyond finding the bed but, before you got the chance to act on that particular desire, the hand that was on your back suddenly slid down to your hip and pulled you backward as he simultaneously stepped forward in order to crowd up behind you, his body a solid wall of muscle.

"You're a menace, Simon. I never get anything done when we're on leave because you try to get into my pants every five minutes." You laughed good-naturedly, your hands reaching behind you to grip the back of his thighs, just under his deliciously round ass.

“Don’t know what you’re on about. I’m just comforting you, you’re the one copping a feel.” Ghost retorted dryly, though there was a noticeable heat to his tone now, his short stubble scratching against your skin as he nuzzled the back of your neck.

“You don’t seriously expect me to believe that, do you? I can feel your dick begging for attention, Simon.” You deadpanned, your brow raising as you leveled an unimpressed look at the cabinets directly in front of you, knowing full well that Simon would know exactly what expression was on your face despite not being able to see it.

Lord knew that he had gotten that exact same look from you enough times to have it memorized.

“Well don’t start neglecting it now.” Ghost grunted with a particularly dirty grind of his hips and you tightened the grip that you had around the back of his thigh, heat pooling in your gut as your lips parted on a silent gasp.

You could feel Ghost smile against the sensitive skin behind your ear -the smug bastard- and just for his cheeky attitude, you decided to be petty and play hard to get. You allowed Simon to do as he wished for another minute or two before turning in Simon’s grip in order to face the man, who had immediately loosened his hold the moment that you began to move.

“Get off me, you slag. I have to finish cleaning the kitchen before we can cook.” You stated as you met his questioning gaze, the man staring at you blankly for a moment as he processed your words, his eyes darkening when he finally caught onto your scheme.

“Slag? Must be rubbing off on you.” Ghost said with a low chuckle that never failed to send a bolt of pleasure down your spine and, going by the amused twinkle in Simon’s eye, he knew exactly what his voice did to you and was shamelessly using it to his advantage.

You resisted the urge to squirm under his calculating gaze, since that would mean losing this little game that the two of you were playing, as the man’s fingers teasingly brushed over the slip of skin visible where the hem of your shirt came untucked from your jeans.

“Not yet, you’re not.” You mused with a wicked grin as your hand darted down to catch his wrist before his fingers could slip up under your shirt. You traced the delicate blue lines crisscrossing under the thin, pale skin of his inner wrist with your thumb, your smile reaching shit-eating levels when Simon’s breathing visibly became more labored, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you like you were the sole object of his desire.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost murmured breathlessly, the fingers of his free hand twitching like he wanted to grab you and pin you up against the nearest flat surface, and you didn’t bother repressing the smug grin that spread across your lips as you watched every individual thought that went through his head, every sinful things that he wanted to do to you clearly advertised on his maskless face.

Simon really wasn’t as hard to read as he wanted people to believe, he was actually quite easy once the mask was off. So while Simon greatly enjoyed when you were rough with him, easily following your lead as you manhandled the man where you wanted him with a firm grip, more tender and reverent contact always had more of an effect on him.

“You love it, you insatiable bastard.” You said with a laugh, Simon leaning forward in order to rest his forehead against yours and you didn’t hesitate to curl an encouraging hand around the back of his neck, letting him have a moment to collect himself since you felt pretty bad for teasing him when you weren’t able to follow through right away.

“Yeah.” Simon admitted quietly, his tone openly affectionate as he tilted his head in order to draw you into a kiss. Words were no longer necessary since the press of his lips told you everything you already knew, the heat that had been bubbling up between the two of you easing as the intense bout of lust that came from your mutual flirting transitioned into something softer, slower.

You were the first to break the kiss when the lack of oxygen made your lungs burn, though you didn’t go far, choosing to instead linger in his personal space. Your nose brushed against his as you basked in the euphoria that came with being with Simon, each of your breaths mingling with his in the small space between the two of you, creating a sort of peaceful bubble where only the two of you existed.

“Didn’t you have some pressing matter to attend to?” Simon’s voice pierced through the quiet and you startled, flinching a bit as you sobered from the trance you had been in, before the words registered and you leaned away in order to scowl at your grinning husband.

“Very funny, Simon.” You said with a fond roll of your eyes, giving his solid chest a friendly pat before finally prying yourself out of his grasp, turning on your heel and making your way back to the kitchen in order to finish what you’d been doing before you got distracted.

Home

A place where I can go

To take this off my shoulders

Someone take me home

Home - Bebe Rexha, Machine Gun Kelly, and X Ambassadors

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod mw 2022 #reader insert #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #married y/n #reader is in the 141 #childhood friends #friends to lovers #military leave #domestic fluff #banter #light smut

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hoeratius · 6 months

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okay, asking this question is maybe the dumbest i've ever felt bc it feels like there should be a straightforward, obvious answer here, but every time i've tried to look it up, i've found nothing but pages upon pages of what feels like people talking in circles and only serving to make me more confused in the end. since you're the most knowledgable person i follow when it comes to the Classics, i figured this might be a good place to ask and maybe get an actual answer? (that being said, it's fine if you don't want to/don't have the time to answer this! obviously!!)

where can i read about the older greek myths? as in pre-trojan war. mostly, i'm interested in theseus but also just pre-trojan war stories in general. i know not everything got the iliad/odyssey treatment and there's probably not any surviving text to point at in a lot of cases, but there must've been something. every time i try to look up where to read about the history of theseus, i'm being directed to a bunch of modern retellings, but google has gotten so bad as a search engine, i literally cannot find anything about the origins of this thing everybody's retelling

from what i understand, theseus was sort of everywhere sticking his nose in everything at all times, so i'm not asking for a comprehensive timeline of his whackass life and everything he ever appeared in or anything, but if you could point me in the direction of anything about him--actual plays or academic texts, anything like that--that's more credible than, like, a self-published, self-described "bold new reimagining" with a stock image of a dude in party city roman cosplay as the cover, it would be MUCH appreciated 😭

(again, sorry about how... basic this question is i guess lol? i'm very new to classics in general and still pretty ignorant about everything, so it's EXTREMELY likely that this is a very dumb question with a very obvious answer, but thank you regardless!)

Hello! What an exciting ask (and apologies for my excited and maybe incoherent answer)!

Since you seem to be most interested in Theseus, I’ll use him as an example but much of this can be applied to other Greek heroes/myths/stories more generally.

As you noted, few get the Iliad/Odyssey treatment. In fact, even Achilles and Odysseus don’t, considering the Iliad spans only 7 weeks or so, and the Odyssey misses out on Odysseus’s actions before and during the Trojan War, and after he came home – and he did a lot after he came home. So where to go to find all the other stories that happened?

Some things to keep in mind:

Writers assumed their audience was familiar with the hero’s greatest deeds already

The big boys – Achilles, Odysseus, Theseus, Perseus, Heracles, Oedipus – had their stories shared in many formats. Think of the Parthenon metopes, which show Theseus’s key deeds in sculpture, or vases, hymns, public performances, bedtime stories, etc. People would encounter these often enough that the outlines of these heroes’ stories were known to them from a young age.

One of the Metopes of the Parthenon, showing (probably) Athena and Theseus.

As a result, ancient texts never show the entire story; they select the moment they want to tell and focus in on that. Hence the Iliad focuses on Achilles’s wrath, the Odyssey emphasises his homecoming, and the Argonautica tells the story of the Golden Fleece. Similarly, tragedies will choose a meaningful moment: not all of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra’s struggles, but his return home in the Agamemnon, or the events that lead directly to Pentheus’s dismemberment in the Bakchai.

So finding one text that will give you a useful overview will be hard!

These heroes are often also connected to so many other famous characters, that sometimes they show up as a side character in their stories, so it depends on which stories capture your interest most.

Pre-Homeric texts are few and far between

But this is not to say there aren’t pre-Trojan-War myths!

There are loads! Anything with Heracles or Theseus is pre-Iliadic, and others, like the house of Pelops, link more to the Trojan War but are also separate from it. Plus, there is Hesiod’s Theogony (roughly contemporary with Homer), which tells of the births of the gods and goes all the way back to the start of the universe.

The Ovid situation

Many Greek texts are lost, and we’ve only got allusions to this or that part of the myth in the existing fragments, etc. etc. So how do we still know so much about so many of these stories?

Enter my fave: Ovid.

Far later than Homer (1st century versus 8th century BC), but with access to all the Greek texts and them some, he wrote a lot of fairly comprehensive stories. These include the Heroides, letters written from the perspective of female characters trying to connect to their male lovers, with letter 10 coming from Ariadne to Theseus, and Metamorphoses 8 with parts of Theseus’s story.

If you’re looking for a high-level overview of what was what in ancient myth, starting with the Metamorphoses will give you all the big boys and many of the smaller ones.

Theseus specifically:

I must admit that Theseus is not my strong suit, but sources I’m familiar with that I would recommend:

Hippolytus, by Euripides and Phaedra by Seneca: these both tell of Theseus’s second wife Phaedra falling for his son Hippolytus and causing his death

Catullus 64: A lament from Ariadne after Theseus has abandoned her on Naxos

Metamorphoses 8, 12, by Ovid: Snippets of Theseus’s life, incl the Minotaur

Ones I’m not as familiar with but might be up your street:

Life of Theseus, Plutarch: a historian/scholar’s biography. He had them in pairs, where he compared the two; Theseus is linked to Romulus

The Argonautica, Apollonius Rhodus: Follows Jason in his quest for the Golden Fleece; Theseus is one of his heroes

Oedipus at Colonnus, Sophocles: apparently Theseus is a major side character here but I don’t remember!

There is also The King must Die by Mary Renault, a modern retelling from the ‘80s that blew me away. The only book set in ancient Greece I’ve ever read that doesn’t shy away from how alien their culture and values are to us today and doesn’t try to sugarcoat things.

And if you’re looking for more heroes: Wikipedia is your friend!

The Classics-related pages are pretty reliable, and they often mention the main sources per character.

I hope this gets you started but please do hit me up with more questions, I always love diving into these things!

#tagamemnon #classics #asks #theseus

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ryuichirou · 4 months

Note

Hi! So i was wondering have you guys ever thought of- danganronpa au for twst cast?

Anon, this is such a good question. Twst guys are the worst, they’d fit perfectly into the dangandonpa world.

Although the ultimate talents for some of them are a bit difficult to pinpoint, but then again, ultimate talents in the games makes no sense sometimes, so I’ll try not to take it too seriously lol

Wow, twst cast arguing about who is the culprit and killing each other off is a fun concept..

Riddle – Ultimate Housewarden, although I’m torn because there definitely must be another more fitting name for him. He is one of our main detective guys, at least in the first part of the game, but then he might get killed off… He worked really hard to get Ace executed before calming down and realising that their real enemy is Monokuma and they need to work together to find a way to escape the game.

Ace – Ultimate Card Trickster. Is that even a phrase? Anyways, he both shows tricks and cheats in poker lol He is also definitely the main suspect of the first case, but he is probably going to survive until the end.

Deuce – Ultimate Delinquent, but he doesn’t even look like one. He’s trying to get his status changed into the Ultimate Honor Student, but it’s easier said than done… So for now he just hides his status, even though once again, it makes no sense.

Trey – Ultimate Baker, easy. He seems either like someone who would try to go with the flow for as long as he could while hoping for the best (and helping out those in need), or just snap at some point and kill someone. Simply because the twist of Trey being the culprit would just be way too fun. But I guess the perfect balance would be to make Trey a suspect and then reveal the killer to be some other guy…

Cater – Ultimate Magicammer, although it would mean that he should have more followers than either Vil or Neige… Maybe it’s not about the numbers but about Cater’s knowledge of the latest social media trends? In any case, I’m afraid poor Cater won’t live for long, but he’s also very likely to try to kill someone.

Leona – gee I don’t know, Ultimate Magift Player? He could be very useful during the investigations if he wanted to be, but he doesn’t. He’ll try to trick his way out of the game, but ultimately get himself killed because he would miscalculate things.

Ruggie – Ultimate Hustler because it sounds better than ultimate pickpocket lol He works all the jobs and is very street-smart, so he’ll be surprisingly helpful at times. But unfortunately, he probably won’t last for long. Maybe Leona would throw him under the bus…

Jack – Ultimate Athlete. He is super against killing anyone, super against playing along Monokuma’s games, super aggressive about it, and could actually get killed pretty early on because of that.

Azul – Ultimate Entrepreneur (real: Ultimate Mafia Leader), the game wasn’t a part of his plans at all, so even though he’ll do his best to act as calmly and smugly as he always does,it’ll take a toll on his psyche.He’ll definitely try to trick his way out of there, probably with the help of the Tweels, but with the way the game is built, there is no way all three of them survive this. Azul knows it and gets more and more paranoid. But even if he gets killed (as a victim or as a killer), he’ll be around for quite a long time. He’ll also be very helpful… but still try to play mind games with everyone.

Jade – Ultimate Secretary (real: Ultimate Poison Master) and Floyd – Ultimate Bouncer (real: Ultimate Slaughterer) –while these two also aren’t very into the fact that they’re in danger, they’re way too happy with this chaos. They won’t kill anyone because that would be way too easy and boring: they kill people all the time. But seeing all the other boys, some of whom are all gentle and sensitive, get all murderous and stuff? This totally makes everything worth it.

Both Jade and Floyd would be smart enough to figure out some of the very important things during both trials and investigations, but they won’t share everything – only if they feel like it… They also might backstab Azul at some point but only if the whole game gets suuuuuper boring and Azul himself stops freaking out (he won’t, so it’s all good).

I honestly can’t picture either of the two dying, but it would also be too easy of both of them survived until the end. I guess they’re just that good lol But at some point we could get a murder mystery where everyone would think that it was Floyd who snapped, because Jade prefers poisons and stuff, but then it’d turn out that it was actually Jade. Something among the lines.

Jamil – Ultimate Servant, and of course Jamil is absolutely ecstatic about this status (nope). I feel like he would act protective with Kalim, getting all nervous because the heir of the Asim family shouldn’t be stuck in a situation so dangerous. He’ll also join Trey in cooking stuff, taking care of others, trying to keep people calm… but then he’ll get executed because he’d kill someone. The truth is, his plan was to kill Kalim and trick everyone into thinking it was Azul who did it, thus winning the game and saving himself. But Jamil is super unlucky, so somehow he messed up… and it was probably also Kalim’s fault lol

Kalim – Ultimate Affluent Progeny, just like Byakuya, but of course with an entirely different situation. He’d try to keep everyone happy and relaxed despite the horrors happening around them, but then he’ll be absolutely heartbroken about Jamil’s fate. He could even try to sacrifice himself to save him (despite the fact that it was him that Jamil tried to kill), but this isn’t how the game works sooo. I can see Kalim surviving until the end, ironically.

Vil – Ultimate Celebrity. He is an actor, a model, a singer, a make-up mogul, and many many many other things. I honestly don’t know what kind of fate he would have in the game, but I can see him being a suspect in a trial. I could also see him getting killed right after the trial that proved his innocence, in a sick twist of fate. But maybe he’ll survive until the end….

Rook – Ultimate Hunter, duh. He would be SO HELPFUL during the investigations, but not really during the trials. He is the type of character to figure out what’s going on way before the main characters and keep quiet about it, just because he wants to see if anyone would figure it out too. He would probably get executed as a killer, but he’d be excited about it, so the whole thing would be… kind of yikes. He is the one to yell about the kibo-zetsubo thing in this cast lol

Epel – Ultimate Farmer, he farms apples! Unfortunately, I don’t think he’ll last for all that long, but you never really know with Epel. He might outlive all of us lol He’ll definitely try to avoid killing anyone or getting himself killed. He’ll also yell in his dialect during trials…

Idia – Ultimate Inventor/Hacker. God he’d be insufferable and amazing, he’d be such a big help during both the investigations and the trials. But sometimes he would be the pain in the ass, provoking everyone instead of helping because he is pissed and done and honestly quite scared about this whole thing. He is going to be a suspect of Ortho’s murder (someone kicked the robot down the stairs or whatever) and then we’ll get confused because well technically Idia did kill Ortho at some point, and then we’ll get their depressing backstory, and then we’ll feel super bad for Idia, and then we’ll find the true culprit, but Idia would honestly feel like dying himself, until Ortho (he’s an AI he can’t really die…) stops him. So yeah basically ch6 lol I hope Idia survives until the end…

Ortho – Ultimate AI and boy oh boy are we doing to get some bullshit about him being both dead and alive at the same time. Because he could get killed pretty early-on but he’ll still be around as an AI inside the computers… He could also try to kill someone in a way that would free Idia from the game, but that wouldn’t work.

Lilia – Ultimate Prankster (real: Ultimate General). He actually graduated a long time ago, and he definitely knows more about the game than the others do, but for some reasons he doesn’t share this knowledge. Maybe he wants the younglings to come to their own conclusions. He’ll definitely die in the middle of the game (or closer to the end?), but while he’s a part of the game, he’ll participate in the trials and be quite helpful.

Malleus – Ultimate Prince (or King). Leona is probably pissed about this one lol He is definitely the one who suggested to just destroy the whole place and escape, and is always the first one to get confused when he’s being told that there is no “brute strength” way to get out of the game. He’s not going to kill anyone, and he’s not going to let anyone touch him, so he is just enjoying the amusing situation, while also being kind of pissed about being treated that way. He doesn’t like Monokuma very much.

Silver – Ultimate Knight. His and Sebek’s Ultimates are pretty similar, but I guess Silver’s more about the Code of Honor of sorts, and Sebek’s more about protecting his liege. I want Silver to survive until the end, but he could be murdered at some point, probably trying to protect some other person.

Sebek – Ultimate Guard. Super anxious, super mad all the time, super nervous and protective over Malleus. He is even worse than his usual self, because the situation is too desperate. He could kill someone on accident and get horrified not because he’s about to get executed but because he wouldn’t be able to protect Malleus anymore… And you’d think he’d confess immediately just to save Malleus from failing the trial, but why is he hesitating to die like this?..

#replies #headcanons

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transmasccofee · 8 months

Text

mini fic about Kusuo and Kuusuke bc I am a little crazy about them — tw for suicide attempt and suicidal ideation, as well as kind of gruesome injury and probably incorrect medical practices lol

also it’s 1st person bc I wrote a lot of this while half asleep and I guess wrote it in 1st person, and then when I woke up it was too woven into the narration to change it to 3rd. Sorry lol.

“I like this look on you,” Kuusuke says, a tinge of excitement in his voice.

I don’t know what he means by that, he must notice my confusion, because he laughs. “You’re at the end of your rope, you’re gonna snap soon and do whatever you can think of that’ll make this all go away.”

I shudder. I don’t want to kill him, but I’m worried at this rate he won’t stop until I do. I don’t like being part of this new dynamic, wherein my own brother views me as a weapon he can do whatever he pleases with.

He blasts his gun at me again, and it grazes my arm, singeing it. As this fight’s gone on, it’s almost like his machine has gotten more powerful. Or maybe I’ve just grown weaker to it…in any case, it hurts. It hurts so badly. I clench my teeth and try not to show it.

“Hey. Do you think if I shot him he’d survive?” He grins, gesturing to a certain fallen esper who up until now has gone relatively unmentioned. My blood runs cold and the second I start running towards Toritsuka, another blast can be heard. Panicking, I teleport in front of him, blocking him with my body. The bullet hits my chest and stomach, and the only word I can use to describe the feeling that follows is agony. I want to scream, but I bite my tongue.

Kuusuke looks at me, his expression different now. “You’re really not gonna kill me, are you?”

I don’t know what to say. It’s hard to think of words right now, I kind of just want to throw up and fall asleep forever. My ears are ringing. Of course I wasn’t gonna kill you, just how do you view your little brother? How have you viewed me my whole life?

Suddenly he seems frustrated, he starts shooting faster and more randomly, he looks like a madman and in the moment it’s terrifying. About 30% of his shots are hitting me, and at some point the pain gets too great to be interpreted as pain anymore, and instead mellows into a dull aching numbness. I’m depleting my energy to get my limiter back, but in this moment it doesn’t feel worth it. If I had my full powers it might be easier to dodge these bullets consistently.

I slump over slightly, and he makes some taunting comment. I don’t bother listening. It all hurts so much. I wish I’d been born normal so then maybe we could be playing video games together instead of doing whatever this is.

I wish we could be doing that. A bullet scorches my hair, and this imaginary world where me and him are friends starts to consume my thoughts.

Despite myself, my shoulders shake. I can barely stand up anymore, in this imaginary world where I’m not ruining everything, Kuusuke notices and runs over to help.

I know I’m not there, though, when I look up through watering eyes and see a bright light pointed directly at my face.

If this hits me, I’ll die. I don’t know how exactly I know that, but I know I know.

Without thinking, I half duck half collapse to the ground. It misses and crumbles the wall behind me. Now I just have to get back up, I still need my limiter back, and Toritsuka is still in acute danger.

…I find then that I can’t get up. I try but everything my body refuses and I slump back down to the cold stone floor. Great.

It’s my fault, I overdid it. Now Toritsuka is probably gonna die, and I’m probably gonna die, and it’s my fault. Helplessly, a choked sound escapes me. I don’t want to die here, I don’t want Toritsuka to die here. Shit, I completely failed him.

After a moment, I notice that I’m the only one making any noise. The bullets have stopped coming, and Kuusuke is silent.

Tentative, he leaves the machine, then he must see my sorry physical state because he breaks into a run towards me.

Unwittingly I flinch back. He notices this too, and slows. Then, he pauses and throws off his mask. His facial expression is one I haven’t seen him make before.

“I went too far, didn’t I?” Is all he says. I don’t understand, but I can’t do much as he grabs me and flips me onto my back. He makes a hissing noise, which I curl inwards at. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m gonna need to take your shirt off.”

What…? I shake my head vigorously. Of course it’s just another game. Honestly, how was I so stupid as to think he was actually concerned for a second?

“Kusuo,” he pleads. “This is kind of serious, I need to be able to see the full extent of the damage.”What damage? Does he mean my stomach? I’m fine. I mean, it hurts, but it’s fine.

He takes off my jacket anyways, then curses and peels off my undershirt too. I’m waiting for something to happen, someone to pop out and upload a photo of me at my weakest to the internet as some awful prank, my friends (sans Toritsuka) to come walking out and see me like this, anything. For some reason none of that is happening, Kuusuke is silently surveying me, his whole face is pinched in some unreadable expression.

“Here, stay here,” he orders. I want to laugh, as it is I can’t even stand, what does he expect me to do?

In my peripheral, I see Toritsuka. He seems to be stirring. Internally, I beg him not to. I can’t do anything right now, he could kill me if he wanted, and then Kuusuke would probably kill him.

When he comes back he’s carrying an array of things. Bandages, water, a cloth, some kind of disinfectant, and a black blanket. It’s odd, despite everything, despite all our fighting, I never feared my brother until now. It’s a potent feeling, and I have to look away. I don’t know what he’s planning. Without a word he hoists me onto his knee, and begins doing something. I can’t stop him without killing him, so I don’t.

I can feel water, then the cloth dabbing at my chest and arms shoulders, then something cold and sharp touching me. It hurts more than I except. Part of me just wants to surrender, let unconsciousness spare me from any more of this, but then I’d really be powerless against him, so I fight it off.

I feel something wrap tightly around my torso, and then he murmurs something and puts my undershirt back on, before wrapping me in what is definitely that shitty blanket he brought out.

For a brief moment, I let myself feel relieved. Then he climbs back onto the machine, and I feel my stomach sink. Tears spring to my eyes. I knew he didn’t like me, but isn’t this…too cruel? Letting me feel safe before destroying me? I brace for the killing blow, knowing that even if I try to teleport away, i won’t have enough control of my muscles to protect myself.

But it never comes.

Instead, I hear a turning of keys, and it powers off. He walks back over to me and sighs. I feel small, curled up in this thin blanket on the floor, shaking uncontrollably under him. I’m not meant to be this useless, nor this out of my element.

“Shit…” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I really did go too far. Look at you. What am I even doing?”

I don’t know what he means.

“Are you in any pain?” He asks. I want to scoff at him, but I’m still a little on edge and my mind is still numb from the earlier agony it faced. I nod slowly. He inhales.

“I’m sorry.”

It catches me off guard. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard him apologize like that. I’m dumbfounded.

“You’re my baby brother, I don’t- I don’t know how I could stoop to something like this. What if I’d killed you…?”

I blink at him. I…I don’t understand. I want to go home. Looking around me I notice the not insignificant amount of blood that had pooled where I was laying. Kuusuke is also covered in blood. Wait, how bad were my injuries?

I look at my shirt, and with sudden horror, I throw up. I wipe my mouth with my sleeve and in the corner of my eye I see my brother’s eyes are as wide as saucers.

“Shit,” he apologizes again. “Yeah. I guess I really really hurt you. You’re even throwing up…On the bright-side, your friend over there is awake.”

That’s not a good thing, I glare at him hoping that’s conveyed. He looks at me and shrugs, nonchalant. “Don’t worry, he’s not gonna hurt you.”

This time I do scoff out loud. What the hell is he talking about? He just tried to kill me, he’s always hated me, you were the exact person who caused him to realize that.

Toritsuka looks around blearily, then he makes eye contact with me. I steel myself, waiting for him to laugh, take advantage of my current state, mock me at least.

He doesn’t, in fact, I’m surprised to see his eyes grow wide with horror. Suddenly he’s crying out my name and barreling towards me, he looks devastated. I don’t know how I’m meant to react. Yet again I don’t understand, I haven’t understood anything that’s happened in the past few minutes. Why are people suddenly treating me like I’m fragile?

He’s at my side, prodding around at my injuries and then the stained floor around me, and then my face. His eyes soften and fill with tears.

“This is all my fault,” he hiccups. “I- the scientist… he- I’m such an idiot for ever listening to him. Now you’re all hurt, and it’s- I caused it…”

I don’t say anything, none of this is anything I’m used to. He looks at the intact wall where he was a moment ago, then at me. His whole face sinks into something genuinely pained.

“You protected me, didn’t you.” He sounds really unlike himself, and it creeps me out. Apprehensively, I nod. I did, but it’s not a huge deal. He doesn’t have to make it a huge deal.

“Why…?”

Why? I pause. I don’t know. Looking up at him, I shrug. You’re my friend. I guess I care about you. That’s why.

He shakes his head, then his gaze focuses in on my chest. “Shit…P-Please don’t tell me that’s not where that came from.” He points to the blood soaked bandages hugging my torso. I resist the urge to gag looking at them again. This kind of devastation on my own body is admittedly fascinating, but to someone like me it’s also disturbing. I’m kind of miffed that he’s decided to remind me of that area so blatantly, what happened to manners? Don’t point out the gaping hole in your friends chest so crudely, Toritsuka.

My lack of response clearly functions as a response for him, because he eventually chokes back a knowing sob. “Shit, fuck, goddammit,” he cries. “I’m the worst, I’m seriously the worst. I’m so sorry. If- if you don’t want to see me again after this…I-“ he trails off.

I’m a little stunned. It’s really not a big deal. It’s not like he was the one shooting at me, that guy’s lingering a few feet away like a creep. I try to explain this to him, but it just makes it worse. He’s actually crying now, which is making me all sorts of uncomfortable. “Don’t forgive me so easily!” He sobs into my arm. I sigh. This is a pain, all of this is. I’m tired, at this point I just want to go home and sleep.

Kuusuke must notice, as he takes a step towards me. Suddenly, I notice that I can hear his thoughts.

Toritsuka catches him moving, and jumps in front of me protectively. “St-stay away!” He snarls. Kuusuke looks amused for a second, but quickly his expression shifts into one of irritation.

“You’re bothering him. Let me take him home.”

“As if i’d trust you! He almost died because of you! I mean, just look at what you did to him!” Toritsuka gestures widely at me and the area surrounding me. Kuusuke doesn’t answer, and now that I can read his thoughts, I can tell…he’s feeling guilty.

Well, of course, He had apologized earlier, but it takes me aback just how potent it truly is. For most of my life I assumed he hated me, assumed he didn’t care about me at all, but now…I don’t know if knowing he does makes me feel better or worse.

“I’m sorry,” he says at last, not really directly to either of us. He’s looking past me, straight at the destroyed walls behind us. “I know I went too far, but he can’t stay here.”

“So I’ll take him home!” Toritsuka argues, unwilling to trust him. It’s understandable, I wouldn’t. I don’t.

“It’s better if I do. You’ll jostle him. Plus, he’s my brother, so if It’s me our parents will be more understanding.”

That last part’s a blatant lie, I know it and I know he knows it. The first part is reasonable, though. Toritsuka is only a little heavier than me, and he’s not very physically fit. Carrying me all the way back to my house on his own would be difficult and potentially dangerous for both of us.

“You’re his brother…??” He gapes, then rage takes over his shock. “How could you do something like this, then?!”

He yet again doesn’t answer, and his thoughts grow even heavier. Honestly I find that I kind of miss his limiter.

Annoyed, I attempt to sit up, the sharp stabbing pain that jolts through me makes me regret that choice, as I slam back down against the floor. Both of them whirl around to look at me with considerable distress.

“Don’t move,” Kuusuke is the first to speak. I glare, wanting nothing more than to punch him right now. My injuries should’ve healed by now, right? Why haven’t they?

He looks sheepish. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “Er, about that…the way my invention works, those are gonna stay for a while. Sorry.”

I stare at him, Toritsuka does too.

“I created it to weaken you, so…it sort of overrides everything about you, including the mind control you’ve done.”

I blink. I’ll ask him how he even did that later, right now I’m just furious. Seriously, what was he thinking? My mind is more clear than it was earlier, and I at least feel enough in my element to be angry, even if physically the bets are still off.

Internally I beg Toritsuka not to ask about the mind control thing, I’m too tired to even attempt explaining that.

Fortunately he doesn’t, though I’m all too aware of how he shelves it for later questioning.

“By weaken, don’t you just mean destroy?” Is what he asks instead. I now wish he’d just asked about the mind control. What kind of loaded question is that? He realizes I’m right here, doesn’t he?

“I created it to destroy myself,” he says honestly. I already knew, but hearing it out loud, so blatantly is still hurtful. Toritsuka looks confused, so unfortunately he elaborates. “I was hoping if I drove him low enough, he’d snap and destroy me.” Too honest. Dial it back a bit for the readers at home.

“Oh,” is all Toritsuka can think to respond with. I really can’t blame him. I want to go home, I don’t want to be here anymore.

“It was a mistake, though, and now look. My baby brother is badly hurt, all because of me.”

“…yeah. He really is.” Not helpful. Both of you should leave, just let me die here, it’s better than having to listen to this exchange any longer.

They stop talking, though their thoughts are both still so loud. It’s all too heavy, I can’t deal with this, especially not presently.

“…fine,” Toritsuka says. “Only If Saiki-san is fine with it, we’ll accept your help.”

I kind of want to ask where he got the idea that he had stakes in this decision at all, but honestly I’m a little relieved he’s here acting as a middle-man.

“Okay. And? Is he?” Kuusuke questions, peering over at me. I shrug. “You don’t know?” I shrug again. I don’t want to interact with him.

“You’re upset, you don’t want to talk to me,” he says matter of factly. I forgot that he’d gotten kind of skilled at reading me. “I get it, but I really do need to know where you stand on this, otherwise there’s not much I can do for you.”

I sigh. As much as I keep telling myself I want to go home, the idea of my parents seeing me like this is mortifying, especially if he’s there too.

“You don’t want to go home? You’re scared of our parents seeing you like this, especially when I’m there too?” He parrots. I flinch. know I said he was skilled at reading me, but that’s basically just telepathy. Toritsuka makes a face like he’s just had an idea.

“He can go to my house! I have a lot of first aid stuff.”

You do? Why? Actually, I don’t want to know. Admittedly, it’s not an awful idea if I ignore the fact that I’d be inside Toritsuka’s house. The one good thing about being in a situation like this with these two is that they both know not to suggest the hospital. Hesitantly, I nod.

“Great, that’s settled then?” Kuusuke sounds tired too.

“I guess so.”

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, right. Erm…I’ll just lead you guys there.”

“Ok then.”

Kuusuke, without much warning, scoops me up off the ground. “Lead the way!” He chirps, presumably trying not to sound too annoyed.

Surprisingly, Toritsuka actually manages to lead us to where he lives without much issue. Maybe he’s more reliable than I thought. That, or my bar is just way too low for him. Probably the second one.

“He can go on the bed,” he says over his shoulder. Kuusuke nods and sets me down. “So…now what are we doing?” He comes back with way more first aid supplies than any one person should ever need. Now I really feel the need to know why he had this stuff in the first place…

“Stitches.” Kuusuke replies, completely distracting me from Toritsuka’s stash. Did I hear that right? How does he intend to do that, an ice pick can’t break my skin, so really, how does he expect a needle to be able to??

He laughs. “Are you curious about how I’d be able to break your skin?”

Yes, but stop reading my mind, please.

“Don’t worry, I’ve studied you enough to know this isn’t an issue. See, it’s not actually that your body is impenetrable…it’s a protective shield, a very thin protective shield.”

I’m confused by what he’s trying to say.

“Basically,” he explains. “Your body naturally stops anything from harming you, of course it’s not impossible to bypass this shield, but most things that would kill a regular person won’t really affect you...”

I’m about to ask where he’s going with this, but Toritsuka beats me to it. “Sorry, but what does this have to do with giving him stitches…?”

“The stitches wouldn’t be harming him, they’d be helping him.”

“Ohhh. Right. Okay, I get it.” He lies.

I’m skeptical. Kuusuke knows more about my body than I do, but it’s hard to trust him. I guess there’s not any other options, and I don’t really know how he could use this to beat me anyways. Reluctantly, I give him permission to attempt this.

Against all my expectations, it kind of works. I mean, the first needle shatters, as do the second and third, but once I manage to relax it becomes almost too easy. Of course, it hurts, though strangely not as much as him cleaning the wound in preparation had. Toritsuka is talking to me about something stupid, I couldn’t make out what he was saying even if I wanted to, my mind is swimming too much. The sound of his voice is a decent distraction, though.

Eventually, after what must’ve been a few hours, as well as the tragic loss of many needles that shattered the second I tensed even a little, Kuusuke finishes up.

“Good as new!” He says, which is objectively untrue, but whatever. “…How do you feel?”

Bad, but less urgently. I don’t know if I can sit up yet, the thought of trying makes me shiver. Right now I’m tired, all I want is to sleep.

“I’ll check in tomorrow. You’ll look after him, I assume,” he asks Toritsuka, who nods. “Alright.”

And with that he’s off.

Toritsuka looks at me, all I can hope is that he won’t try to engage in serious conversation with me. He doesn’t.

He doesn’t say anything, actually. He thinks a lot, a lot of apologies, but he says nothing aloud. Silently, he lays on the floor and closes his eyes.

I roll my eyes, he’s punishing himself. That’s annoying. Do what you like, but in front of me? over something that wasn’t your fault…? When he falls asleep I’ll be sure to give him at least a pillow and blanket, it won’t help anyone if we have two people in pain tomorrow.

Once he’s asleep, I finally let myself drift off too.

I’m woken up by Toritsuka’s miserable thoughts. It seems Kuusuke isn’t here yet, in the meantime I wonder if there’s anything I can do to make Toritsuka realize he doesn’t have to be so hard on himself. It’s fine.

“Can you sit up yet?” He asks, I blink at him. It’s too early for this, seriously. I just woke up.

I push myself up with my elbows, there’s a significant throbbing pain throughout my body, but I can ignore that.

“Hey, that’s good! Maybe your weird brother was wrong…?”

He probably wasn’t, but one can hope. I give a thumbs up, for whatever reason my hands are shaking.

Kuusuke arrives, he checks in, “supervises” for awhile, then he leaves. At night Toritsuka tries to punish himself by sleeping completely uncovered on the hard floors, I thwart his plans and then fall asleep myself. This repeats for weeks, honestly it’s becoming monotonous. Kuusuke keeps reassuring us that he has all the technical stuff “handled”, and I guess I have to believe him.

Not only that, it’s all frustrating. There’s something nagging at me, it feels like a pit in my stomach, the same feeling you get when you haven’t eaten for a long time, and I don’t know what it is or why it’s happening. There’s something we didn’t address, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.

It comes to me one day, at a point where I’m far enough long in this awful recovery period that I can walk around with only some agonizing pain. The stitches have been removed, I’m probably gonna go to my regular home soon. Toritsuka’s gradually stopped punishing himself, everything is going…fine.

I’m even kind of getting along with Kuusuke, if I ignore everything that lead up to this, I might be able to pretend we’ve always been like this.

Then one day, it’s like he snaps.

“Kill me,” Kuusuke says, grabbing my shoulders. It’s raining, we’re both outside and he’s knocked over the umbrella I was holding. I’m too shocked to respond. “I’m asking you to kill me, however you like, but please kill me.”

I can’t think of what to say to him. Weren’t we over this…? I guess not. That must’ve been what was bothering me so much. He looks desperate, desperate in a way I haven’t seen him before.

“I deserve it, you deserve to be the one who does it. It would be humiliating to die to anything besides you, so please…”

I really thought we were over this.

There’s some kind of cruelty present here, and the worst part is I don’t even know if he recognizes it. I feel the resolve I’ve been clutching crumble just a little.

The reality is I never, never in my life, truthfully wanted to kill him, I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone. I wish I’d made that clearer, maybe we could’ve avoided all of this. I feel, for a moment, profoundly angry, then it’s washed away and all I can feel is hurt. Hurt that even after all this, he still thinks of me this way, hurt that he thinks of himself this way, hurt that our relationship is like this. I want to cry, I want to curl up as tight as possible and cry until all of this melts away. How did we even get here? How did it get this bad?

He looks about two seconds from breaking down himself. I don’t know how to fix this, I don’t think I can. Once again I picture that imaginary reality where I’m normal, and I imagine a Kuusuke who’s offering words of comfort.

Against my will, tears come rushing. I can’t stop them, I’m helpless. I’ve caused all of this, the fault of my existence is why any of us are in this situation. My face is wet, and I don’t care to tell what’s from rain and what’s from me. It’s humiliating regardless.

“Kusuo…? Are you…-” He sounds so far away. Quickly, I cover my face with my arm, stepping back in shame. I wish I’d just gone home when I was first injured, I want my mom, she’d know what to say right now. Then again, I’m sure that would’ve caused her a lot of trouble, so it’s probably good I didn’t. Probably. I don’t know.

“Are you crying?” He asks, I laugh. Obviously I’m not. Or, wait, actually I am. Huh. I’m crying right now.

I’m so tired of all this. I know our relationship will never be like the one I keep picturing, but I just wish it was better than this. I don’t want to be crying alone right now.

He pauses. “I’m sorry,” he repeats. No matter how much he says that, I can’t seem to believe him. “I see now, I’m wrong.”

I don’t know what he means, I don’t want to know. It’s a different kind of pain, this feeling.

“You want a normal brother, don’t you?”

I guess so, Its more that I want to be a normal brother. I don’t want to be someone he feels the need to compete with all the time, I want to be someone he can laugh with and play video games with and not feel like he’s going up against a machine.

The pit in my stomach deepens, and it hurts terribly. Like a child would, I reach out and grab his sleeve. He freezes as I do so. I don’t know what to say to him, I’m just desperate and hurt and alone, and he was there.

“…What are you doing? Why are you grabbing me?” I can’t think of a coherent reply. He was there, is all I can think of. Logically I know it’s probably deeper than that. I don’t respond, I can’t let go. If I let go…I don’t want to think about it.

After a moment, I feel arms wrap around me. He’s hugging me. For whatever reason, he’s hugging me.

I don’t move, I’m scared if I do, that I’ll hurt him. I don’t want to do that. He exhales. “I don’t know why you keep me around, if I was you I would’ve killed me ages ago.”

Huh. I shrug. I don’t know, I say to him. You’re my brother, and I guess I care about you. That’s why.

#Idk if I will post this to ao3 since it’s pretty short #Maybe #for now I’m just gonna dump it here lmao #tw suicide #tw injury #writing #< tag in case I do any more random mini fics lol #Toritsuka is also here and he is miserable. Bc it’s the cat gun arc obv he’s unhappy.

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prince-kallisto · 7 months

Text

An official introduction to my TWST “Yuu” OC: Viktor (*´∀`)♪ He’s a 42 year old man who was accidentally hit by the black carriage instead of the “real” Yuu. Now stuck in Twisted Wonderland, he makes do by working as NRC’s janitor and general handyman. He lives in Ramshackle Dorm and is assigned as Grim’s caretaker. Ramshackle is even less of a dorm now since no one’s the prefect haha, but Grim was allowed to take some limited classes under strict supervision of the teachers. Viktor is fairly indifferent to being in a new world because working for survival remains the same- and so do the stingy employers! (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

Although Viktor seems stand-offish at first, he’s a friendly person who likes listening to people and giving advice when they need it. The troubled kids at NRC reminds him a lot of himself in his youth and he helps them out a lot- which make the sudden Overblots even stranger…However, he isn’t afraid to put his foot down, which he unfortunately has to do a lot at NRC. Crowley’s threats of withholding food, money, or the dorm don’t work on him at all. Whether by eating free leftovers from the cafeteria, haggling over prices with Sam, or just sleeping in Main Street or in front of Crowley’s office…Viktor can become quite the annoying enemy when necessary haha.

Can you guess who he’s (loosely) twisted from? -v-

Cinderella! \(//∇//)\ His color palette is meant to be a mixture of Cinderella’s and Grim’s lol. For months he wasn’t based off anyone, but I recently thought of this and it clicked perfectly in my head. He works, works, and works, but has his own wishes and dreams kept deep inside his heart. That, and I think it’s funny. Surprisingly though, he gets along really well with Trein.

With this in mind, he has a blessing cast upon him- although he doesn’t know it yet. Whenever the clock strikes twelve, any magic cast on him (minus the blessing itself), no matter how powerful, will break. For example, if Riddle casted “Off with Your Head” on him, the collar would magically disappear by midnight. Malleus having the ability to stop time is scary though ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

I was racking my brain to think of how I could fit a glass slipper reference. His initial job title in his world was vaguely a handyman or tradesman, but then I thought about it some more- a glazier! A tradesman that works with installing glass like windows and mirrors. Not only did it have a slight glass reference and give him the physical work I imagined, I think the mirror connection is fun 👀 (even my OC isn’t immune to my theories 🔫)

He is very much a “homebody” type person, with his interest in flower arranging and baking (bread specifically). He also likes collecting silly and unique knickknacks- but has a growing collection of bottle caps and shiny trinkets from Crowley haha.

I think some parts of the main story would change with him as the MC since he’s street smart, extremely stubborn, and is willing to put his life on the line to protect the students. What immediately comes to mind is Book 3. Viktor vs the Leech twins would be so chaotically violent haha. Maybe I’ll make separate posts detailing how I think each book would go down with him as MC

He’s my first OC I’ve ever made for a fandom…I feel a little embarrassed but the TWST fandom makes a lot of OCs so I feel better about it -v- I have a lot more I want to say and talk about character relationships, his origin story to NRC, and how Viktor affects the main story… but I’ll be saving it for future posts and art \(//∇//)\ I hope the more I draw him, the more I can improve!

#poor guy got animefied and disneyfied. tragic #I am cringe but I am free #twst oc #oc #my oc #twst #my art #twisted wonderland oc #KallistoPost

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cha-melodius · 8 months

Note

Hi friend! Congrats again on 100 works! Thank you for offering to write more for us! ❤️I'd like to request 1. firstprince and 2. Kensington as an AU, but only because you dared us to! Alternatively, if someone already requested that and you don't want to duplicate, I'd be interested in a hockey AU set inside the rink! Thank you again, I am so excited to see what you come up with and to read more of your words!

(Thank you so much for taking my bait lol, I've wanted to write this canon-divergence AU where they hook up in Kensington during the damage control trip for a while now. I hope you enjoy!)

Falling Down the Stairs of Your Smile

(firstprince, 4.1k, M; read it below or on AO3) read all the fandom fest fics

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. They were supposed to finish up at the hospital, and then Henry would go back to whatever the fuck he does while Alex went to the airstrip. He’d fly back to DC, so that maybe he’d be able to get some schoolwork done before Monday, and try to forget that this ridiculous weekend ever happened—barring the fact that he and Henry were still obligated to keep up the fake friendship for a few more months, that is.

Instead, Cash comes up to him as they stand outside of Kensington with a slightly grim look on his face and says, “Change of plans.”

“Huh?”

“They discovered an issue with the plane during the flight prep. It needs some part that they’re not going to be able to get until tomorrow morning. We’ll leave then.”

“What do you mean, they can’t get it? Why not?” Alex demands. Surely in a country with fucking royalty, nothing is out of grasp for said royals and their guests.

Cash shrugs. “Didn’t ask. The palace confirmed you can stay another night.”

Alex groans probably a little too dramatically. “What about my classes?”

“I am, in fact, very aware of your class schedule,” Cash says dryly. “You’ll be back in time.”

“I don’t have another change of clothes.”

“Pretty sure Kensington has laundry.”

“I’m really not getting out of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

Alex sighs and looks over to where Henry is standing with Shaan by the front gates. There’s a look of trepidation on his face, no doubt because he’s just been told that he’ll have to deal with Alex for another night. Of course, that’s not a given. Henry will probably disappear into his apartments and ignore him, which suits Alex fine. They may have reached a kind of détente today, but they’re not friends.

“Sorry to hear about your plane,” Henry says as they get back into the car that will drive them further into the palace.

Alex shrugs. “It’s fine. I guess I’ll have to survive the hardship of ten thousand thread count sheets another night.”

Henry huffs a little laugh and grins. It’s kind of amazing how different he looks when he smiles for real. “I know you’ve probably had your fill of me today, so feel free to say no, but…” He hesitates a moment, as if waiting for Alex to shut him down before he even makes his proposal. “I was thinking of ordering in curry for dinner tonight. There’s a place not far away that’s quite good. Maybe watch a film?”

It’s pretty much the last thing Alex expected him to say. He wonders if this is another olive branch, an acknowledgement that it’ll be easier to pretend they’re friends if they’re actually… kinda friends. Surprisingly, Alex doesn’t hate the idea.

“What movie?” he counters.

“Well, I would suggest one of the Star Wars films, but I’m not sure we could agree on one.”

“If we’re not going to watch the best one, aka Empire—”

“You mean Return of the Jedi,” Henry interjects.

“—I guess that leaves the next best.”

“So, Rogue One?”

Alex grins. “Ok, maybe we can be friends, after all.”

He’s absolutely not letting himself think about the warmth that grows in his chest when Henry laughs.

~~~~~

Alex discovers that there’s a room in Kensington that’s pretty much as tricked out as you can get without being in a movie theater—“There’s an actual theater in Buckingham,” Henry tells him, “but Dad had this put in for family film nights”—with a massive screen and a killer sound system. They eat their curry out of take-out containers on a surprisingly comfortable, normal couch as the movie plays, keeping up a running commentary between them that ranges from Star Wars lore to the cast (“Come on, you can’t tell me you wouldn’t follow Diego Luna anywhere. Look at him!” Alex insists, which garners him a strange look from Henry) to random things entirely unconnected to the movie.

Turns out Henry is actually really funny, which is a fucking shock and kind of annoying except for how he leaves Alex in stitches several times. It’s absurdly easy between them in a way that it shouldn’t be, and Alex can’t remember the last time he had this much fun just hanging out with someone. And it’s Henry. What is his life, even.

“I can’t believe you like this one,” Alex says as they watch Jyn and Cassian embrace desperately on the beach. “It’s pretty much the opposite of a happy ending. For the main characters, at least.”

Henry hums, tipping his head slightly. “They give up everything in the service of a cause bigger than themselves, and they succeed. There’s something beautiful about that.”

“God, you are a sap,” Alex teases, bumping his shoulder up against Henry’s. Somehow they’ve managed to migrate closer on the couch over the course of the movie, until they’re practically touching.

“And why do you like it, then?” Henry counters. “The action and spies and intrigue?”

“Not only that,” Alex says. “But there’s a reason I’m a big Bond fan.”

A smile flickers across Henry’s face that’s a little melancholy but mostly contented. “I suppose that makes sense given what I know of your movie tastes now.”

“Also, your dad was a total babe.”

Henry’s eyes go wide as he chokes on a laugh. “I beg you to not.”

They lapse into silence as the final scenes as the credits start to roll. The movie is over and it’s getting late, but all Alex can think of is that he really doesn’t want the night to end yet. Which is crazy. Twenty-four hours ago Alex was actively cursing this man’s name, and now he seemingly can’t get enough of spending time with him. It doesn’t make any sense, but somehow it does; it’s the same feeling that he was chasing all those years ago in Rio, the one that pushed him to go up an introduce himself at exactly the wrong time, the one that made the hurt of that encounter linger for so long in his psyche.

“Hey, uh,” he says eventually, turning slightly to look at Henry, “thanks for suggesting this. It was fun.”

“I hope it made up for being stuck in London longer than you wanted,” Henry replies, his voice low and soft.

“Definitely.”

Henry smiles, a warm and pleased one that stretches his lips and crinkles the corners of his eyes, and Alex feels like he’s being pulled in by the magnetism of it. He wants to get closer, despite how close they’re already sitting. His fingers twitch with the urge to touch—the soft blond hair falling over Henry’s forehead, the sharp cut of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips. He’s always known Henry was objectively good-looking, but Jesus, where does he get off being so pretty? It’s annoying, really.

Alex isn’t trying to make things weird, but he also can’t quite help the way his eyes are drawn inexorably down to those plush lips, still curved in a gentle smile. Who even has lips like that, does he get fillers or something, because they can’t be real, except they look very, very real, Alex hasn’t even ever kissed any girls with lips that nice, that look that soft—

Something short circuits in Alex’s brain and he just— has to know. How soft they really are. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s leaning in and pressing his lips to Henry’s, which are, as it turns out, extremely soft. It only lasts for a second before his brain comes back online and he realizes Henry’s frozen stiff, which is fair, because Alex has no fucking clue what he’s doing. He hasn’t kissed a boy since Liam and this was not the fucking boy to just kiss out of nowhere. He’s gonna get, like, locked in the Tower of London or something.

He wrenches away as quickly as he leaned in, meeting Henry’s wide, stunned eyes (—still so so blue, how can they be that blue—), his lips slightly parted and just a little damp from Alex’s.

“Shit,” Alex breathes in a rush. “Fucking shit— I don’t know why I did that, I’m so sorry, Henry, I didn’t mean anything by it—”

“Alex,” Henry murmurs, but Alex is too far gone in his spiral at this point.

“—I promise, it was just— I mean, I’m not even—”

“Alex.”

Alex stops in the middle of a word, his mouth hanging open. Henry’s got some kind of strange look on his face that he can’t parse at all.

“Did it really not mean anything?” he asks slowly.

The thing is, Alex has no idea what it means. Absolutely none. Something inside him—something he doesn’t really understand—wanted to do it, but like, just as an objective experiment. Except that part of him wants to do it again, even though he already got his answer. Really wants Henry to kiss him back. Which is making him feel a little insane.

Alex closes his mouth, licks his lips, and swallows hard.

“That depends,” he says cautiously, “on what you want it to mean.”

For some reason, that makes Henry growl in frustration and cast his eyes to the ceiling. Then he groans, “Christ, Alex, you’re so—”, grabs Alex’s face between both hands, and kisses him soundly.

Alex’s insides go positively molten. Henry’s hands are gripping his jaw, and in his hair, and Alex can’t help but press closer. His own hands find Henry’s narrow waist, reveling in the dip of it, the heat of his body scorching through the thin fabric of his shirt, and the only thing currently occupying Alex’s mind is a desperate urge to feel bare skin under his palms. That is, until Henry slides his tongue along Alex’s lower lip, sucks it into his mouth and tugs on it with his teeth, and Alex stops thinking altogether.

Their positions are a little awkward, twisted toward each other on the couch as they are, and Alex isn’t sure if he pulls or Henry pushes—or maybe both—but a moment later Henry is unfolding his long legs and shifting to straddle Alex’s lap, which is both incredible and incredibly overwhelming. Especially when Henry’s hips rock forward and Alex can feel his growing arousal pressing into the rapidly tightening region of Alex’s pants.

Jesus, this is— it’s— it’s a lot, but the very last thing Alex wants to happen is for it to stop.

He absolutely does not whimper when Henry pulls back, sending Alex unconsciously chasing after his lips. Fortunately, Henry doesn’t go far. He presses their foreheads together, breathing raggedly into the space between them as his thumb swipes across Alex’s cheek.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Henry breathes, and yeah, Alex had no fucking clue.

His mind is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and he has no idea what to say to that besides: “Fuck.”

Henry chuckles softly, nudging their noses together. “Indeed.” He presses a soft kiss to Alex’s lips, then another to the corner of his mouth and one to the edge of his jaw. “Do you want to… go somewhere we won’t be interrupted?” he murmurs into Alex’s ear, and his warm breath combined with the words makes Alex tremble under him.

Alex swallows hard as his hands tighten on Henry’s hips, but he hesitates a moment too long because then Henry is actually pulling back, a concerned expression creasing his brow.

“Which is not to say— we don’t have to do anything more if you don’t want— I just thought—”

“I want to,” Alex blurts, surprising even himself. He’s not entirely sure what more means to Henry, but he knows he wants it. Jesus, does he want. “Yes. Fuck. Let’s do that.”

Henry grins, wide and nearly blinding in its brilliance, and Alex thinks he would do just about anything to see that smile on his face always.

They clamber off the couch, adjusting themselves with shared, knowing giggles, then Henry grabs his hand and tugs Alex through formal, stuffy corridors lined with portraits and antiques, which just adds a certain something to the absurdity of the whole situation. Somehow it’s not a surprise that Henry’s apartments are just as impersonal and opulent as the rest of the palace, full of hideous floral wallpaper and baroque furniture. Before, he’d have put that on Henry himself, but now it feels wrong despite the fact that Alex still barely knows him. It feels like he knows enough. Henry eats curry on the couch and cracks crude jokes and sniffles at the tragic endings of Star Wars movies (yes, Alex noticed). Henry is warm and soft and feels like he belongs in cozy, simple rooms full of old books and tea and cardigans.

Alex’s musings are cut off when Henry pulls him close again at the foot of the hideous gilt monstrosity that is his bed, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist and tugging him into a lingering kiss. It’s softer than before, delicate and sweet, exactly like Alex would imagine Prince Charming would kiss. From this angle Alex has to tip his head up to kiss him, which is definitely not something he ever thought would do it for him, and yet. Henry’s evening stubble scratches against his chin, and broad hands grip onto his hips and pull him against the hard, flat planes of Henry’s chest, all of it constantly reminding him of the unmistakable masculinity of the person he’s currently making out with.

Alex thinks, distantly, that he should probably be freaking out about this a bit more, but it’s too easy to give himself over it in the moment. He can freak out about what whatever the fuck it means later.

Henry’s hands move to the front of Alex’s shirt, and his nimble fingers make short work of the buttons before pushing it backwards off Alex’s shoulders. His fingers leave trails of fire where they linger against Alex’s bare skin, and even just this has Alex moaning into the kiss, desperate for more. He tugs at Henry’s shirt, yanking the tails out of his pants and nearly tearing the buttons open in his haste, which makes Henry laugh at him, the bastard.

“Eager, are we?” Henry teases, and Alex bites the grin right off his face.

“Shut all the way up,” he huffs before sinking his teeth into the absolutely irresistible collarbone he’s just uncovered.

Henry sucks in a gratifying breath at that, his hands tightening on Alex’s waist, and then he’s manhandling Alex back onto the mattress, which has no business being as hot as it is. Alex kicks off his shoes before scrabbling backwards so that he’s lying against the pillows, his heart racing as Henry crawls up over him with a nearly predatory grin on his face. The way his body fully blankets Alex’s is overwhelming in the best way, making every part of Alex ache with the need to somehow be closer, even as Henry presses the their bodies together from knee to chest and captures Alex’s lips in another deep, probing kiss.

They kiss and kiss until Alex’s lips are almost numb from it, their hands roving over heated skin and through thoroughly mussed hair. Henry’s hips roll slowly against him, almost a question, and Alex groans when he feels the hardness of Henry’s cock pushing against his hip. His own is straining against the front of his trousers, and his breath shudders in his chest when he imagines what it would feel like to have Henry’s hands wrapped around him.

But—

“Hey, uh,” he breathes as Henry’s mouth moves to his neck, and he’s nearly driven to distraction by the feeling of Henry’s teeth scraping lightly over his pulse point, but he wants to get this out, “I’ve never actually—” His voice fails, and Henry pulls back just enough to look him in the eye. Alex swallows. “Done this. With a guy. I mean, kinda, but not really—” He lets out a frustrated huff. “It’s a long story.”

Henry stares at him so intensely and earnestly that Alex feels flayed open by it, like Henry can see all the parts of him that Alex himself didn’t know were there. “We can just do this,” he says as he pushes a curl back from Alex’s forehead. “The last thing I want is to push you into something you’re not comfortable with.”

It’s completely reasonable not to rush things, but Alex thinks if he leaves London without seeing Henry naked he might fucking expire.

“Did I not already fucking say I wanted it?” he retorts, a little testily. Better that than admitting how desperate he really is.

“Well, to be fair, we didn’t exactly specify—”

“I want you naked,” Alex breathes in a rush. “I want your hands on me. Your mouth, if— if that’s something you want.”

Henry’s gaze goes dark and hot, and he actually licks his lips. Alex’s dick twitches in his pants. Jesus Christ.

Henry dips back down to kiss his neck, but a moment later he answers. “That,” he says, pressing it into Alex’s skin as he kisses a path down his chest, “is something I very much want.”

Then Henry’s hands are at his waistband, making short work of his belt and peeling off his underwear and pants in one go, and everything goes very, very hazy after that in the absolute best possible way.

~~~~~

The room is quiet after they subside, after every ounce of pleasure has been wrung from their bodies, after shouted names ease into murmured endearments.

“I should go,” Alex eventually whispers into the stillness, because he should. It would be better if he spent the night in his own rooms. Safer.

He doesn’t want to, though. He doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts right now, doesn’t want to give his brain the space to run wild with this. That’s what will happen if he goes. He’ll fall into a research spiral on google, and text Nora even though it’s too late, and quietly freak out about everything that’s happened tonight. Here, though, Henry’s got an arm thrown over his waist, and it’s not much, but the weight of it soothes something within him. Keeps him grounded.

Maybe it’s just Henry that settles him. He doesn’t want to think too hard about that.

“You could stay,” Henry murmurs back. He leans in, presses a kiss to the outside of Alex’s shoulder. “No one will notice. Tomorrow’s Sunday. The staff come in late.”

This is a terrible idea. This can’t be… anything, really, given who they are. Alex doesn’t even know what he wants it to be, but he knows that.

“You sure?” Alex asks anyway.

“Stay,” Henry repeats.

So Alex stays.

~~~~~

The bed Alex wakes up in is unfamiliar, which is hardly surprising given his travel schedule lately. What is unexpected is that he’s naked, and there’s a warm, naked body pressed against his back, and abruptly all of what he got up to the previous night comes slamming back into vivid clarity.

He slept with the fucking prince. Henry. His nemesis, except not actually, apparently, and oh yes, definitely also a dude. Alex sucked his dick and most definitely enjoyed the experience, so that’s a whole new thing. The freakout about his sexuality that he shoved to the back of his mind last night rockets to the forefront now, and he can feel his breath stutter in his chest.

Except then Henry’s arm tightens around him and he presses a sleepy kiss to the back of Alex’s shoulder, and the tightness in his chest unclenches somewhat. Not all the way, but enough.

He fumbles for his watch, then jolts up to sitting with a new fear once he sees the time. Jesus Christ, Cash or Amy is going to show up at his bedroom any minute now to pick him up so they can leave, and Alex isn’t fucking there. This is a disaster.

Henry grumbles at being disrupted, sleepily rubbing at his eyes in a way that’s definitely not adorable at all. “Time is it?” he mumbles through a yawn.

“Late,” Alex huffs, briefly getting tangled in the sheets and nearly falling out of the bed in his haste to find his clothing.

He’s halfway into his pants when there’s a knock at Henry’s bedroom door, and he almost falls on his face again. That seems to wake Henry up a bit more, and he finally sits up, his hair standing up in all directions and his eyes gone wide.

“Yes?” Henry calls out.

“The Secret Service seem to have misplaced their charge,” comes Shaan’s voice through the door, and Alex would very much like to die right now. Henry stumbles out of bed, throwing on a robe, then opens the door just enough so that Alex isn’t visible. “I told them I would inquire with you to see if you had any idea of Mr. Claremont-Diaz’s whereabouts.”

There’s something very knowing in Shaan’s tone, like he’s perfectly aware of where Alex spent the night and furthermore none of this is exactly a surprise to him, and Alex only barely manages to hold back the extensive collection of curses crowding at the tip of his tongue. What the actual fuck.

“Ah,” Henry says. His cheeks are bright pink. “Just a moment, I’m sure I can help you locate him.”

“I’m not sure I’ve properly conveyed how agitated they are, sir.”

“Tell them I’m ok,” Alex sighs begrudgingly, stepping into view now that his shirt and pants are on. It’s not like he’s kidding anyone; he’s still barefoot in Henry’s bedroom and the bed that two people clearly slept in is fully visible from where Shaan is standing. “I just—”

Shaan holds up a hand. “Believe me when I say that you do not need to finish that sentence. I will deliver the message, but”—he pauses, glancing between them—“you probably shouldn’t linger.”

He pulls the door closed behind him as he goes and, despite the warning, Alex stands there for a minute, rooted in place and staring at the floor. Maybe Shaan doesn’t want an explanation, but the Secret Service certainly will. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” Henry says quietly, suddenly close beside him. Alex hadn’t heard him approach. He still looks so soft and sleep-rumpled, and something tugs at Alex’s chest that absolutely should not be tugging. “I shouldn’t have talked you into staying here.”

Alex huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “I didn’t take much convincing,” he says. “I shoulda just set a fucking alarm.”

“Probably,” Henry agrees, his lips tipping into a wry smile that fades into a look of concern. “Are you… ok?”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he answers, probably a little too quickly. Henry just stares at him in that way that makes Alex feel entirely too seen. “Probably gonna get chewed out for disappearing, but it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“That’s not exactly what I was talking about.”

Alex swallows. “I’m fine.” He offers Henry a little smile. “This was fun.”

“It certainly was,” Henry agrees carefully.

“Where’s your phone? I’ll give you my number, it’ll be easier to plan joint appearances or whatever,” Alex says in a blatant attempt to divert from a discussion about what happened or what this makes them. He’s got to figure his own shit out first. He doesn’t need Henry to know that he’s already wondering when he can arrange his schedule to see him again.

Henry gives him a look, but he fetches his phone and hands it over to Alex with a blank contact page open. Alex types in his number and hands it back.

“I’ll be disappointed if you only use that for booty calls,” he jokes.

Henry sputters out a laugh. “Noted.”

He’s endearingly pink-cheeked and smiling, and Alex doesn’t think before he takes the last step that puts him in Henry’s personal space, grabs the fronts of Henry’s robe, and pulls him into a kiss.

If he’d had any lingering doubts about the previous night, about whether what he’d felt was real or not, this thoroughly dispels them. The press of Henry’s lips to his, the way their mouths slot together as easily as if they’ve been doing this for years, the zip of electricity that fizzles under his skin and spreads out to tingle in the tips of his fingers and toes… Alex has never been kissed like this, has never felt like this being kissed, and it’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Like he’s falling.

Oh. Fuck.

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