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#tho everyone should yell at me for how long this is

the-engdyssey · 1 year

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Day 4 OC-centric

Title: In Misery

This is a fanfic I don’t really have time to write, but I thought it would be interesting to share the idea with everyone and see what they think! I've tried to add as much detail as I can for this, and I hope you enjoy it!

Gif credits: Tangerine: @peachyspaceslvt Elizabeth Olsen: @may0osh and @elizabethlailolsenfan

Tag List: @bullettrainpromptweek @phantom-wolf

Prompt filled: Mainly OC centric prompt, pre-canon, and butterfly effect prompts. It’s also an opportunity to flesh out some headcanons about Tangerine that have developed because of the course of this story.

Pairing: Tangerine x Sarah (Female OC)

Warnings: Major character death, canon typical violence (there's a scene with a stabbing)

Note: I have included gifs for some visual reference/inspo. My “face claim” for Sarah is Elizabeth Olsen which might be an odd choice to some people. But for context: I didn’t know that Aaron Taylor Johnson and Elizabeth Olsen had played siblings in a Marvel movie before. I first saw them and really enjoyed their acting together in the 2014 Godzilla movie where they play husband and wife. I thought they were really cute together, and I was disappointed that they didn’t get more screen time with each other. I like their chemistry together, and I hope they act together again sometime. So, when my brain thought of a fic where Tangerine has a girl he’s in love with, I thought of her character looking like Elizabeth Olsen. That said, here’s a bullet point run down of my Tangerine and Sarah fic! (Partly under a cut due to length not necessarily content.)

Sarah meets Tangerine purely by coincidence. She is not involved in the world of assassins or the criminal underworld whatsoever. In some regards, it’s almost as if she “cleans up their mess”. She’s a young doctor for the NHS, and she works in A&E (the emergency room). She often deals with trauma patients, but she encounters just about any kind of sickness or injury in the emergency room of a hospital. She has a few friends lovingly drag her out to a pub one night to let off some steam, because she constantly works, and they fear she never has much fun. She meets Tangerine in that pub, and perhaps she’s a little tipsy, and he’s very handsome. Tangerine on his part clocks onto Sarah instantly. He can’t help himself—she’s exactly the kind of girl he likes. She’s sweet, a little shy at his open flirting but incredibly receptive, the cocktails have her a bit tongue tied (but it's also her nerves at talking to him), but she’s well spoken and intelligent. She’s pretty and cute. He likes her smile, he likes her laugh, and he simply has to have her. Which is fine with Sarah, because he’s the kind of guy she dreams of but thinks she’ll never have because he’s too good looking. There’s instant sparks, instant chemistry, and they wind up sleeping together that first night. And it’s incredible for both of them. Tangerine is an attentive lover in her opinion. He checks before he does anything, but he knows how to navigate his way around a woman’s body. Sarah feels safe with him, which means a great deal to her because she's never slept with anyone she just met, she always waits. She feels confident and sexy with him, and it’s a reminder of how it’s supposed to feel to be with someone. But surprisingly for the both of them, there’s an innate intimacy to being together which neither of them was expecting. There’s a care and a passion for each other that catches them both off guard, but it’s not entirely unwelcome. Despite thinking it’s a bad idea, Sarah slips her card into Tangerine’s shirt pocket and says he can call her anytime before she heads home that night. She assumes he won’t. But he does the next day wanting to take her out on a real date. He promises that he'll be just fine with giving her a kiss goodbye if she wants to take things slower. He really likes Sarah, he wants her, and he’s all in. It doesn’t take long for him to make her feel the same.

Personally I love the duality of Tangerine dating a doctor, someone who spends their life trying to ease the suffering of others or preserve life, when Tangerine is primed to do the exact opposite. He doesn’t mind hurting or killing other people, the only thing stopping him is an increased likelihood of getting caught. Sarah is an inherently good person who tries to navigate her life according to the edict of “do no harm”. Tangerine most certainly doesn’t. Sarah doesn’t know what Tangerine does for money as their romance blossoms, but her kindness and compassion is what draws Tangerine in further. She is everything he’s never had in his life; true romantic love, friendship, loyalty, compassion, care, tenderness, support. He’s not looking for a woman to take care of him, but part of her loving him is doing exactly that, while he takes care of her. (Being a doting and consistently caring boyfriend is part of his love language, but it’s also him knowingly struggling with his abandonment issues having grown up in the foster care system. He feels like he has to prove to his lovers why they shouldn’t leave him, prove himself worthy of them, but Sarah silently and patiently reassures him that she’s not going anywhere.)

Tangerine is honest with Sarah about a great many things, honest to the point that Lemon thinks he’s an absolute idiot. He tells Sarah his real first name which is Tom. (Yes, I imagine his name is actually Thomas, and everyone who actually knows his name calls him Tom for short. Because Aaron Taylor Johnson was in a movie called ‘Tom & Thomas’ when he was little and because Bullet Train likes to make references to actors' previous roles in other films, this is the hill I’m dying on. Especially because it makes his annoyance with Lemon’s Thomas the Tank Engine obsession all the more infuriating as adults, and because Sarah can harass him by calling him her ‘Tom Cat’, and it makes him cringe so bad his stomach hurts while she’s crying with laughter. To which he inevitably runs after her fully intent on tickling her until she can’t breathe as revenge.) He makes up a last name for him and Lemon to go by, but he also tells her his actual birth date, he tells her honest stories about when he was younger and the people who mattered to him in the past. He even opens up about some of his worst experiences in school and foster care. He tells her the truth of who he is as a person, something that no one really knows except Lemon. Everyone else who does has left him behind in one way or another. He does not tell her anything about his real work, he hides that incredibly well from her. But he actually feels like this girl could be in his life long term, something that he never thought would actually come about, and not lying to her feels important to him even if there are certain key details that he leaves out.

If I could summarize this story in a single sentence it would be this: No matter how deeply and truly Tangerine loves Sarah, he is nothing but an absolute poison in her life. Because Sarah is inherently good, and Tangerine is someone who is morally gray at best. He is the very antithesis of what she is, what is important to her, despite the fact that he matters to her dearly. Despite cherishing and wanting to protect her gentle and kind nature in a world that easily makes people become jaded, he is an incredibly selfish and manipulative man. He wants Sarah in his life because he loves her. That's the simplest and honest truth. But he also explains to Lemon that having a doctor as a wife would come in handy for the both of them. No more shitty patch up jobs themselves, or hoping that established organizations will take pity on them and let them utilize their resources for a fee, they’d have a trained medical professional to help them out. (And I’m not entirely sure of the legalities of it in the UK, but sometimes spouses can’t testify against each other in court, and if that’s the case, that's an added bonus). So, Tangerine asks Sarah to marry him. Because he loves her, and if Lemon asks him about it, she’s useful. And Sarah, none the wiser and utterly adoring him, says yes.

But a relationship with a man like Tangerine is not sustainable. The violence that he so desperately tries to keep under control around her exposes itself more and more over the course of their relationship. Getting in the face of someone here. Shoving someone or nearly getting into a fight there. It’s subtle at first, to the point where Sarah doesn’t question it. He's had a past where picking fights was a way of coping and oddly enough, protecting himself. He's always been protective of her as well, but it's become more intense. It’s something she notices, but she misses it for what it really is. She’s never had any reason to believe that Tangerine is a truly violent man. Until she finally sees it for herself one day. She sees the man she’s going to marry kill another (for a quick local contract). It’s not an accident, it’s not a mistake. It’s something bloody and brutal, something she was never supposed to see. Something that brings her whole world shattering down around her.

Tangerine knows that Sarah knows. He realizes too late that she saw what happened, and he rushes over to her flat to try and talk to her when he can't catch her on foot. He’s a tad arrogant enough to think that it’ll take some time and effort, but he should be able to soothe this one over. He thinks Sarah is probably shocked and scared, but he can calm her down, surely. Tangerine underestimates the effect this has on Sarah. He underestimates the Pandora’s Box seeing such an act of violence opens within her. She’s got a head start on Tangerine. She’s able to get to her flat and barricade the door before he gets there. She’s panicking and rightfully begins to question everything. As she begins to look through Tangerine’s belongings that he’s brought over to her flat (he's essentially been living with her for some time), she realizes just how deep the lies run. Fake passports and driver's licenses, numerous burner phones, foreign cash, dozens of weapons all hidden carefully in various pockets of his duffel bags in the bottom of the closet. All things lingering in her space, her life, right under her nose, and she never had a clue. She realizes the man she loves is an illusion. The man she loves is in fact a total stranger, someone violent, a killer, and seemingly a professional no less. Tangerine isn’t stupid enough to leave copies of the contracts or mission briefs around, but she doesn’t need them to understand how dangerous Tangerine is. He’s a murderer, and she’s a witness. So Sarah does the only thing she can think of: she runs.

It is because Sarah still loves Tangerine, despite knowing that everything he’s ever told her or shown her could very well be a lie, that she runs and instead of contacting the police. She’s scared, but more than that her heart is broken. She doesn’t realize that what Tangerine always showed her was his real self, but the darker, more violent side of himself is his real self as well. While wrestling with the realization that the man she wanted to have a future and a family with wasn’t real, she also begins to question and berate herself. How could she be so stupid? How did she not have any inkling of what he was? What kind of woman loves a man like that? Is she not as bad as he is? He makes a wave of guilt wash over her for loving a man who causes the very harm to others she tries to fix in her profession. Her phone has been buzzing non-stop since Tangerine came back to the flat to find it empty and his things rifled through. Sarah is in a taxi on the way to the airport to catch the first flight out of the UK. She answers though she can’t even see the screen with the tears swimming in her eyes. She should yell at him, curse at him, do anything but already miss him terribly. She can’t. Before Tangerine can even say anything, she simply says, “I’ll never say anything to anybody. I still love you, Tom. I'll always still love you, but I can't stay. Take care of yourself.” She pulls the SIM card out of her phone and chucks it from the taxi cab. Her plan is to head back home, her actual home. Her dad is English, but he met Sarah’s mother and settled down with her in Canada. Sarah has dual citizenship, and the only thing she can think of or wants to do is go home in her time of greatest need.

Sarah makes a prudent decision by running away from Tangerine, but the problem is she’s not good at running away. Why would she be? That’s not a skill set most people learn. And while Tangerine and Lemon are not as skilled or “professional” as they are by the time they step on that bullet train, they have no trouble figuring out how to track Sarah down. Between budding connections to other operatives with handlers or “independent contractors”, and the fact that Tangerine enabled things like ‘find my phone’ on Sarah’s electronics without her knowing, it doesn’t take long for them to find her. Lemon has had about enough of all of this. He’s met Sarah, he actually likes her very much, he appreciates that she listens to him talk about his interests, he's grateful that she loves his brother like she does, but according to him, “I’m the one thinking with my brain. Unlike you. I don’t know what you’re thinking with, mate, but it’s gonna get us both in trouble.” Tangerine either needs to win Sarah back or he needs to take care of her, because leaving a witness behind is bad for business. Tangerine understands the situation they’re in, but he also refuses the idea of doing anything to Sarah. He can frame it in the context of wanting to preserve her usefulness, but it’s because he loves her. It’s as simple as that. And Lemon isn't stupid, he knows that.

Sarah leaving causes Tangerine’s emotions to go all over the place. He’s stressed because of the implications to his and Lemon’s safety and freedom. He’s a little angry, but more than anything he's hurt that she left. She promised him she never would. And though logically he understands why, it still feels like a rejection of some sort. And he misses her. Her leaving reminds him of all the other times he's been left behind. That same feeling of being a scared little boy who will never see those he cares about again settles in his chest. He hates it, but it shows him how not having Sarah in his life just isn’t an option. It’s a rather warped and selfish way of loving her at this point. When he finds Sarah the first time, he doesn’t confront her right away. In fact, he spends a great deal of time simply observing her from afar as she tries to navigate a life without him. He sees her parents and wishes he could have met them and tried to impress them properly. He sees her settle into new work. He watches her interactions with those around her. He sees the smile on her lips doesn’t reach her eyes anymore, he feels sick that it’s his fault. He sees Sarah safe and helping people as her true calling encourages her to do, and for some time, he considers leaving her be. Trusting her word and letting her have a life without him. But then he sees that she’s still wearing the engagement ring he bought her (and he did buy it, it felt wrong to steal it, he has a sense of pride that he actually bought it in an honest transaction for her), and the choice is made for him. When she’s out, he sneaks into the flat she’s renting. And he sees that she still has room for him in her life. She’s wearing the ring he gave her. There’s space in the closet for his suits to hang up. The double sink in the bathroom has everything sequestered to one side. He can tell she's only sleeping on one side of the bed. He likes to hope she is waiting for him and will be glad to see him.

She was, and she’s not. She’s been waiting with baited breath for Tangerine to come find her, terrified that he’ll kill her if he does. She hasn’t stayed with her parents because she doesn’t want them to get hurt. When he’s there in her flat when she comes home, she immediately tries to run, but Tangerine is faster and stronger than her. He overpowers her, but he doesn’t hurt her. He tells her to be quiet, but his voice is gentle and loving as always, his warmth is reassuring, the strength in his hands and arms is familiar and comforting. When she goes limp in his arms, crying and defeated, he thinks he might be able to finally reach her. She asks what he plans to do, and he says he wants to take her home. He wants things to be like they were. He loves her, he would never hurt her, and he’s never lied to her. But he continues to lie by omission, never really answering the questions she demands of him about what she saw, what he does, who he is. She asks him if he loves her, and he says yes. She asks why she should believe him, how can she possibly know he’s not lying. He kisses her because he doesn't have the words, and she knows. She knows deep down that maybe he does really love her, but that doesn’t change anything. But she lets him love her for that night. She makes love to him again and again, telling him that she’s missed him, she still loves him, that there’s no one else for her but him. She means every word she says, they're a declaration of love and a confession. But they're also a goodbye. When he wakes up in the morning, she’s not there. She’s not even in the same province anymore. Tangerine is simultaneously furious and amazed that she managed to slip away from him again. He steals something small from her apartment, a little trinket that reminds him of her, and heads out to find her again.

Every time Sarah runs away, she gets a little better at it. A part of Tangerine is proud of her, but he’s also getting sick of this game. Especially when other men start showing their interest as soon as she's settled down somewhere. Sarah rebuffs them every time. She doesn't want anyone else, her heart still belongs to Tangerine. She also knows full well that if Tangerine caught her with another man, that other man won’t survive the interaction. And after her father has sent a private detective to look into this man he sees as harassing his daughter, Sarah realizes that she might not survive him either. She learns more about Tangerine than she ever wanted to. She knows about the murders he’s been suspected in, she’s seen his previous arrests, mug shots, learns about his dealings with the fringes of organized crime, and it's enough to knock the wind out of her. She knew it was bad, but she never dreamed it was this bad. The private detective, a retired cop, looks at Sarah and asks her, “Honey, how’s a girl like you gotten involved with a man like that?” She takes the silver chain holding her engagement ring off from around her neck and places it on the table. “I said I would marry him.” The private detective just sighs and closes his eyes despairingly, but he’s a decent man and wants to help. “That’s okay. We have places that can help. There are damn good women’s shelters around here, we can protect you—“ “I think you’d better go.” “I’m sorry?” Sarah just looks at him as she places the necklace around her neck once more, resigned to the fact that it’s too late for her. The only thing she can do is try to make sure no one else gets hurt. And this man being here is putting his own life in danger. He leaves very reluctantly, but he can’t force Sarah to do anything. And he promises that if he doesn’t hear from Sarah within a certain time frame, he'll give a letter to her parents telling them that she loves them. After that, she cuts off contact with everyone she cares about, and goes as off-grid as possible. She has to get serious about hiding and running now.

Tangerine can still find her. He finds her a total of three times. She manages to slip away two. Each time he tells her that he loves her, he’ll never hurt her, he wants her back. Upon discovering that she knows everything, he assures her that he’s never truly lied about anything. But he’ll tell her everything from now on. He won’t keep anything from her if she wants to know, but he won’t say anything she doesn't want to hear. She knows everything now, she sees him in his entirety, will she please come home with him again. And Sarah does see the real him. She sees the man that utterly adores her, and the monster that makes her question her own morality. She’s never taken kindly to people accusing doctors of playing God, and she doesn’t think it right for him to play God with other people’s lives. She doesn’t like the pseudo moral righteousness of Tangerine more often than not killing those involved with organized crime, men who often sell, beat, rape, and murder women and children. He kills men who are scum, and thus his actions could be framed as some sort of service unto humanity. But she doesn’t enjoy the notion of justifying murder– for do those same men not have wives and children who will mourn their loss? It's not her right to place a value on another life or to end it, her calling is to ease the suffering of others. She still questions herself, berates herself for still loving him like she does though she's helpless to stop it. She’s still trying to fight the inevitable, but it’s a losing battle. The fear is waning every time he comes to her, the longing for him is ever growing, the relief at seeing him is near overwhelming. It’s getting harder to leave every time. So when he finds her at a train station that final time, both of them have reached the end of their rope. Tangerine catches up to her but keeps his distance lest he spook her. He's out of breath from running, his three piece suit a disaster in his rush to get there before she slips away once more. And he finally tells her, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for all of this! I never wanted this for you. Please, love, I want you with me… But I…I understand if that’s not what you want. I love you, but if you step onto that train, I promise you’ll never see me again.” He means it, and he’s willing to keep his word. For the first time, he is willing and able to love Sarah unselfishly, and in turn Sarah is finally willing to be selfish. “Do you still love me, Tom? Really love me. Not because you want me to keep quiet. You really did before, didn't you?” Tangerine can’t help but snap a bit because, “Of course I fucking do! I never stopped! Bloody hell, woman, why do you think I’m here chasing after you?! Why do you think I asked you to marry me?! Sarah, I love you!” She can’t help but smile even if the tears are running down her cheeks. Tangerine prepares himself for his heart to leave with her on that train, only for the girl he loves to run and jump into his arms. The cold air of the train speeding past washes over them as does the relief and elation of finally coming together. He kisses her slowly, adoringly, and asks again if she’ll be his wife. She says yes. He tells her to be a good girl and put her ring back on then. She laughs and waggles her ring finger in front of him, showing that she’d been wearing it the whole time.

Sarah and Tangerine begin to settle back into their life together in London, though it takes time for Sarah to put the pieces of the life she left behind back together again. There was always open communication between them before, but this time it's easier with no secrets. Sarah can establish the boundary that if Tangerine is going to continue with his work, she'll never help him and Lemon with a job. She'll never be a part in harming someone else. But she will always patch them up when they come home, and he better not get himself killed or he'll have her to answer to. She's got a cute little stern frown on her face and her hands on her hips as she tells him this, and Tangerine just melts. He agrees, because he doesn't want Sarah involved in his world. She's too good for that. But taking care of others, especially those she loves? That's just who she is. Yet a man like Tangerine in Sarah's life is a poison, regardless of how much he tries to protect her. Lemon and Tangerine tend to not see the long term consequences of the various jobs they take. To them, each job is an isolated incident. They feel as outside contractors, they retain the right to bounce from contract to contract without any sort of comeuppance from the various crime syndicates they interact with. Things don't work that way. The Twins work in the fringes of organized crime, but mob bosses do not take kindly to losing their underlings at the behest of another mob. Tangerine and Lemon can take contracts from the Italian/Russian mobs and the Yakuza all they want, but they really are foolish to think there won't be consequences. Especially when they have people in their lives they care about. So when Tangerine and Lemon take a contract to get rid of some Russian mob members for other organized crime bosses, they set off a sequence of events that seals all their fates.

After Tangerine and Lemon kill a group of Russian mobsters in London, the mob’s first instinct is to kill them. Until the local Russian boss (naturally someone who falls under the umbrella of the White Death's control) realizes they're talking about The Twins. This guy likes The Twins, they've done good work for him in the past. It's a shame that they accepted a contract against the Russians. Instead of killing them and losing their future value completely, the boss decides to remind the Twins why loyalty to a good paycheck should never be broken. To not bite the hand that feeds them. The order is given to hurt the people close to them as a reminder to behave themselves. (Can't have Tangerine and Lemon badly beaten, then they'll be useless for any upcoming jobs.) After a couple of the Russian mobsters have been tailing the Twins for a while, the only person they see with them consistently is Sarah. And considering the one with the mustache is the one who seems to be in charge of accepting contracts and she's his girl, all the better.

Sarah never saw it coming, and Tangerine wasn't there when it happened. Sarah has just finished her shift at the hospital and is just about to pop into one of the shops, before heading to where Tangerine and Lemon plan to pick her up. Sarah walks along a little side street, a short cut to the closest convenience store. A route she has traversed dozens of times without incident. A sudden large hand on her shoulder forces her to turn around, two hulking men with tattoos before her. Before she can pull away and run, before she can fight back, or yell for help, one of the Russians has a knife buried in her belly. The shock of the injury leaves her dazed at first before the knife is pulled out, warm blood following in its wake. She's stabbed again, the agonizing pain that suddenly hits her would make her scream. Instead, it steals her breath as does the force of the blade being driven into her. Five stabs in total, four in her abdomen and one in her chest. Sarah collapses after she staggers away a few steps. The other man roots through her purse taking her ID as she struggles to breathe, struggles to speak past the searing pain with every movement. Her scrubs are soaked in her own blood, and she focuses on not passing out. She hears the two men speak in Russian, doesn't know why her mind latches onto that detail. She tries to look at their faces, but it's a fog, and she knows it's because her blood pressure is dropping. She also knows the signs of various organs and blood vessels sustaining damage during a stabbing. She knows that her injuries aren't good. But she just has to wait for them to leave, wait until they assume she'll be dead soon, and then she can properly put pressure on the wound, call an ambulance, call Tangerine– her phone smacks onto the pavement before a heavy boot crashes down onto it. A heavily accented voice tells her, “Tell him he should have known better. Tell him to be on his best behavior. We know where you live.” Sarah nods weakly and finds herself alone. If not for her injuries, she'd question whether or not those men had even been there at all, or were they just phantoms from the shadows? She yells for help as best she can. She tries to get her phone to work to no avail. She tries to get up but realizes that sensation in the lower half of her body isn't as good as it should be. She can't rise to her feet, and she doesn't have the strength to drag herself along the pavement. Her breathing sounds suspiciously wet. The only warmth she can feel is her own blood. She puts pressure on the wounds with what little strength she can muster, forcing herself to stay awake. It's a losing battle. She's slowly dying.

Despite Lemon’s rebukes of needing to trust Sarah more, that she's just running late, she hasn't run off again, Tangerine can feel something is wrong in his gut. As Lemon is chastising his brother, Tangerine pulls up the tracking app that he's once again put on Sarah's phone. The one she still doesn't know about. Lemon is about to tell Tangerine off further when the look on his face makes him pause. He glances at the phone. The little dot signifying Sarah's phone is stationary. Lemon assumes it's because she's in a shop, while Tangerine feels his heart drop into his stomach. She's stationary in an empty side street at night. Tangerine can't help himself from rushing out of the car to where Sarah is according to his phone. He keeps calling her, and she doesn't pick up. A visceral fear takes hold of him, worse than the turmoil he felt the mornings he would take up to discover Sarah had run away from him again. He gives up using the phone to call her and yells out for her instead. It's a flash of teal, the color of her scrubs, in his peripheral vision that allows him to find her in the dark and quiet of the side street. He's on his knees beside her in a second, and his heart is pouring out over the pavement along with her blood. He doesn't even recognize the tears in his eyes as he dials 999 and tenderly takes Sarah in his arms. He gently encourages her to wake up, holding her close to give her his warmth, her blood soaking into his clothes. She's pale and clammy, she's groggy and her eyes are a little unfocused, but she's alive. She's looking at him and saying his name, and therefore she's as beautiful as she's always been. His lips are all over her face and though Sarah can't return the affections, she's appreciative of the warmth. He asks Sarah to tell him what to do to help her while they wait for the ambulance. Instead, she tells him about the men who attacked her. All the fragmented details she vaguely recalls and the warning they had left her with. Sarah asks Tangerine to be careful, and the fact that the woman he loves is dying in his arms but her kind heart is more worried about his safety, breaks him. She's never seen him cry. Very few people have. But he holds her close and weeps in worry and regret, kisses her lips to cease the gentle reassurances falling from her lips. “It's supposed to be me telling you it's okay, not the other way around.” “Tom, tell me everything is going to be okay.” “Everything is going to be fine, love. You're going to be fine.” And he makes a silent promise that he'll kill them for this, but saying it out loud will make her worry. “Love you. Always have. You know that right? Love you so much Tommy.” “I know. I love you too. So much that I won't get mad at you calling me Tommy.” It makes her smile but barely. His voice is barely above a whisper as he continues, “I've never loved anyone like I love you. You're my dream girl, you know. I've…I've wished for you my entire life. Please don't leave me yet. Stay awake for me Sarah.” Her eyes fall closed, her breathing shallow. Lemon comes to his side as the sirens draw closer. Tangerine’s desperate pleas for Sarah to wake up go unanswered.

Lemon has to help the EMTS to get Tangerine to let her go so they can get Sarah in the ambulance, and he drives them both to the hospital. He sits with Tangerine the entire time as they wait for updates of Sarah's condition, squeezing his brother's shoulder or neck in reassurance. Tangerine lets him do it more than once, a sign of how distraught Tangerine is. Lemon apologizes to the nurses at reception when Tangerine snaps at them if they refuse to give him any information for privacy reasons. Lemon helps ease the burden of the brief encounter with the police asking initial questions about the incident. But they won't know more until Sarah is out of surgery. Lemon urges Tangerine to clean himself up in the bathroom, because Sarah will hate to see him look like such a mess. Lemon is also right beside Tangerine as one of Sarah's closest friends at the hospital comes out to speak to them. The look on her face says everything before the words tumble from her lips. Lemon is there as his brother's heart shatters before his eyes. Sarah died during emergency surgery due to the severity of her injuries. Lemon takes hold of him as a grief so profound overtakes Tangerine that he nearly sinks to the ground. The last of Tangerine's strength is the only thing keeping a scream erupting from his throat and sobs wracking his frame. Tangerine never liked to cry, not even when they were kids. Lemon never had that problem, and he still doesn't. His eyes shine with tears for this brother and the girl who he looked forward to having as a sister in law. His friend. Lemon pulls Tangerine to a quiet place and says nothing as his brother falls apart. It's the first and last time Lemon has ever seen Tangerine mourn anyone in their lives like this. And he realizes with the greatest despair, that Sarah was the first and last woman that Tangerine had ever or would ever truly love.

Tangerine is never the same after he loses Sarah. His hurt morphs into anger, a wrath against others that reaches new levels. Tangerine was not Sarah's husband legally. He was not her next of kin. He had no say in where she would be buried. He was certainly not welcome at her funeral. Regardless, he lingers in her Canadian home town to visit her grave, leaving flowers every time, often as he can before he leaves again. He and Lemon have another job coming up. Lemon thinks it's a bad idea. Tangerine has to work otherwise his grief will swallow him whole. It's wet work. And a part of him realizes that Sarah would be disappointed to know it's work that demands he takes the lives of others. But the ember of compassion Sarah fostered within him left along with her. The next job the Twins take is the Bolivia job. Tangerine accepted it because the group down there supposedly had connections with the Russians. The Bolivia job was an absolute blood bath due to his rage born from grief. A showcasing of his wrath. There was no compassion. No humanity. The rumors spread about The Twins begin to refer to them as “insane” and “psychopaths”. Tangerine likes that. The Bolivia job made him start to feel better, though it can never begin to fill the empty space inside his soul. The only regrets Tangerine has about the Bolivia job is how unprepared Lemon seemed to be for it. And that his newfound reputation as a psychopath was not given to him in time to save Sarah. He often thinks that if they all knew what he was really capable of, then maybe they would have thought differently about touching what was his. Maybe Sarah would still be alive.

The butterfly effect of Sarah's death leads to Tangerine being how he is by the time he and Lemon step on the bullet train to Kyoto. His anger lingers. He snaps at Lemon much more than he used to, but Lemon doesn't really take it to heart. He knows when to push back and when not too. Tangerine’s fuse is a lot shorter than it used to be. He's polite for the most part, but cold with others. He's always attracted the attention of women, and even a few men, but his overall demeanor shows that he is completely unavailable. Tangerine can't even begin to think about being with someone else. But Lemon also knows that Tangerine's heart has not gone cold, it's broken. Where Lemon forgot the innocent civilian they caused the death of, Tangerine remembers. Mainly because he thinks of how upset Sarah would be over it. What little conscience he has left is the small piece of Sarah that lives on inside him. But at the same time, he can be derisive towards the pain of others. He's remarkably callous when talking about the fatal accident of the White Death's wife. Tangerine understands that pain, to him Sarah was his wife, but he doesn't feel sorry for the White Death. To Tangerine, he's part of the Russian mob, so there's a sense of vindication. A sense of ‘it sucks to lose her, doesn't it?’ But the irony is, Tangerine couldn't possibly know how full circle things have come. The Russians took Sarah away from him, he played a part in the chain of events that lead to the White Death's wife dying, and by stepping on that train, he's signed his own death warrant. Tangerine also holds no sympathy for the White Death not having left his compound because Tangerine has a thought process of ‘Well I got over it and got back to work. And you have kids. You've no excuse to hide yourself away.’ It's a thought process that holds the bitterness and anger of grief and a distinct lack of self awareness. Sarah's death is also why Tangerine frets over Lemon like he does. He wasn't there for Sarah. So when Tangerine finds Lemon knocked out in the silent car, he assumes the worst. It causes the seed of anxiety to bloom in his gut. By the time Tangerine gets kicked off the train and has to punch his way back in, his fear of it happening again has run away with him. He knows Lemon can take care of himself, but Lemon is the only person Tangerine has left. Tangerine's worst fears are realized when he finds Lemon in the bathroom. Lemon has been shot, and Tangerine wasn't there. He wasn't there again. He failed those he loves again. He's lost a loved one again. He's all alone. And something inside him snaps, the last link in the chain of events leading to the end of his life.

Lemon has Tangerine cremated after his body is recovered from the crash site. He thinks about keeping the urn so he doesn't have to let his brother go. He thinks about spreading his ashes in numerous special places in England. They never talked about what to do if one of them died. Talking about it made it seem too real, but Lemon thinks that's silly now. He just wants to do what his brother would have liked, and the only thing he can think of is to let Tangerine finally be with Sarah. To let them both rest. Lemon goes to Canada, goes to Sarah's small town and sees it with different eyes than when he accompanied Tangerine with the intention of getting Sarah back. It feels like a lifetime ago. He almost breaks down at the realization that for Sarah and Tangerine it truly was a lifetime ago. He goes to the cemetery in the evening with a shovel, intent on burying the urn with Tangerine's ashes on Sarah's plot. An unmarked grave, but not alone. Lemon is interrupted by Sarah's mother. He hurriedly explains that he knew Sarah. That they were friends. Recites details about her that make her mother's face melt from confusion and horror to a bereaved smile as Lemon says a silly little phrase that Sarah used to say all the time. Someone else who really knew her daughter, bore witness to the wonderful person she was, gives her an odd comfort despite the bizarre circumstances. She nods at the urn, “Who's that?” “His name was Tom. He was in love with Sarah. He wanted to be her husband.” “Is he the Tom she was running from?” Lemon can't look at her as he nods and says, “Yes, Ma'am. But he loved her. He really really loved her, and he never hurt her. I promise you that.” “I know. I could tell by the way she talked about him. She was just as crazy about him. Even when she was scared of him, she adored him.” Lemon can't speak due to the tears, and Sarah's mom comes closer. “Were you going to leave him here with her?” He nods. “Yeah, but…I'm sorry, I'll go–” “Don't go,” she gently reaches out to touch Lemon's arm. Loss is a universal language, the companionship and understanding of another going through it a precious commodity. “I don't mind if you let him stay with her. I'd like that. I think they would have too.” Lemon is amazed at how kind she is, how giving and forgiving. But he realizes Sarah must have gotten it from somewhere. He can see Sarah in her mom, and as she helps Lemon dig a small hole to nestle Tangerine's urn into, he thinks about how he would have enjoyed getting to know her family. Would have loved the idea of him and Tangerine having a family with Sarah and her relatives. When they're done, and before he can awkwardly shuffle off, Sarah's mother asks if he'll come have dinner with her and her husband. A friend of Sarah's is always welcome in their home. Though she also asks that this be their secret for now, Sarah's father isn't ready to forgive Tangerine. And she also asks that Lemon keep the fact that Tangerine was his brother a secret for now once she finds out. Sarah's father isn't ready yet, but in time he will be. For now, it's important for those that loved them to be together. Because for Tangerine and Sarah to be remembered by the ones that love them is the surest reminder that they existed.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I hope you liked it! I swear I do love Tangerine and I do love Sarah despite the ungodly levels of angst. They are together forever at the end, and Lemon and Sarah's family have each other from that point on. In the spirit of Bullet Train, something good always comes out of something bad.

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x oc #tangerine fic #bullet train fic #this is a story that's been with me for a while now but never planned to write #i'm glad i can share it in this manner for people to enjoy #tho everyone should yell at me for how long this is #i am ashamed....kinda #but i hope you guys like sarah #and i hope you like this story idea

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months

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me: i'd like a little chaggie angst in my life.

me: nothing major. no blood or screaming or anything like that.

me: maybe something that could slot into canon without much trouble? something quiet. something sad. a small gut punch, is what im after

my brain: On in boss! Give me a sec.

my brain: .....

my brain: Okay how about this- Charlie was so hyped and determined to have Vaggie come with for the heaven trip not just bc they're partners, but also because- Charlie was gonna propose.

me: .... why would she propose? and in heaven? aside from it just being a nicer less gory place in general, i mean

my brain: Well Charlie was super excited about the trip, right? She thought there was a good chance they'd win their case, confirm Angel Dust's path to redemption, show their hotel could work, and prove the exterminations aren't needed and should stop. That's HUGE! That's her and Vaggie's current life goal getting checked off- and if they can stick together through making a hotel for redeeming sinners work, then marriage is kinda just yelling that for everyone to hear.

me: wouldn't charlie be freaked out by marriage tho. her parents are separated, and her family fell apart for while afterwards. she's only just started picking up the pieces with vaggie

my brain: EXACTLY!!! Vaggie got her talking with her dad, talking with him got him kinda onboard with the save sinners plan- the plan Charlie is trying to make her mom proud with! So her mom and dad aren't together, but they're least on the same page now! As far as Charlie knows anyway. Meaning them being married had REASONS behind it, reasons that haven't gone away even after they separated- so it's not like them being married to each other was for nothing or a mistake. It was good! It can still end good! And having Vaggie in her life is what helped all of that happen in the first place. Soooooo....

me: marry that girl?

my brain: Charlie was expecting her and Vaggie to get a great win up in heaven, together, as partners. What better time and place to say how much she wants to keep doing that with her?

me: hmm

my brain: Plus if Angel Dust got the green light for an eventual move to heaven, having the wedding before then would be kinda important if they wanted to be SURE he could be there for it. And Charlie would DEFINITELY want Angel there for it.

me: true, true.... so, what are we picturing here tho? how does all this... become a thing i can feel sad over?

my brain: Well first, imagine Charlie planning it. Being exited for it.

me: oh she'd be so very excited

my brain: Imagine her the entire time they're headed to and are up in heaven, checking her pocket whenever no one's looking, triple checking on the ring, grinning to herself- physically straining under the urge to just blurt everything out to Vaggie like she usually does BUT wanting SO MUCH for this to be a special surprise for Vaggie!

my brain: She goes on the heaven tour while Vaggie stays behind, and Charlie's a little relieved to get a break from the constant urge to get down on one knee whenever she looks over at her girlfriend- she spends the whole tour of heaven gushing about Vaggie, barely taking in the sights- maybe even lets slip, to her HORROR, what she's planning to ask (a beaming Emily SWEARS not to say a word)

Getting back to their room Charlie has to spend ten minutes pacing outside, muttering to herself and checking the ring and REMINDING herself NOT to just pull it out the moment she walks in and sees Vaggie again after a whole two hours apart- She goes in, buzzing with pent up marriage proposal energy, not sure she WON'T just say it all right then and there, and...

Vaggie's curled up on the bed, asleep, luggage open next to her and one of Charlie's spare shirts tucked around her like a blanket, a small stressed frown on her face as she naps.

Charlie melts. She takes a slow deep breath, lets out a long happy sigh, and tip toes quietly over. She does get down on one knee- to be on a level with Vaggie so she can smile at her and stroke her hair and smooch that pinchy frowny face, chuckling softly about how Vaggie never stops worrying about things, even in her sleep. At least Vaggie IS sleeping now. She hadn't gotten much of it, leading up to the trip here.

The ring is pulled out of Charlie's coat and slipped into pants pocket instead so Charlie can safely drape the coat itself over Vaggie, who's curled up as if Heaven's perfect temperature feels a bit chilly- and Charlie moves the luggage to make room on the the bed so she can snuggle in behind Vaggie, arms wrapped around her, maybe not able to resist playing with her girlfriend's left hand a little before dozing off herself.

Imagine Vaggie had been working up the courage to tell Charlie the truth when Charlie came back.... but she wakes up already safe in Charlie's hug, and it's- it'd be one thing to face Charlie across the room and see her turn away- it'd be another to FEEL her let go. Or to be the one who breaks the hold, maybe for the last time

So Vaggie doesn't tell Charlie.

And the trial goes, the way it goes, and Charlie- never tells Vaggie what she wanted to say either.

Instead of asking a question, Charlie gets answer, and they both find themselves on their knees in heaven- but for all the wrong reasons.

Then its bad. Charlie's up in their room alone with Razzle and Dazzle- and the RING- and she keeps trying to put it away or even chuck it out the window... but it always ends up tucked in her fist. Slipped safely back in her pocket.

In Cannibal Town, at Rosie's, when asked if she loves Vaggie, Charlie stumbles over her answer- not because she doesn't love her or doubt it, but.

She almost blurts out, at the worst moment- yes she loves Vaggie. She was even going to ask her to....

Everything all flies out the window back at the hotel gates.

They've got a fighting chance against heaven, hungry cannibals to arm with angelic steel, friends who chose to stay and FIGHT for their home and each other instead of running for cover- it's not what Charlie wanted but she'll damn well take it and she means to KEEP IT- there's no time to think about what the actual battle will be like or what (or if anything) comes after.

Charlie doesn't remember the ring again until days after the After.

At night in bed, after a long day doing more minor endless finishing touches to the new hotel (with Vaggie) and an evening writing out thank yous to everyone who helped hoping none of the overlords suddenly think of an extra cost to that help, rewording until her hand ached (and Vaggie took it gently and tugged her away with a "we'll finish them tomorrow, sweetie")

Charlie wakes up at night, in bed with Vaggie, and lays there staring up at the dark ceiling, frozen in panic- until she not frozen anymore but slipping out of bed and into carpeted middle of the room, hooves muffled as she paces, picking up KeeKee on the way and petting her frantically as she tries to THINK-

The ring, the fucking RING.

She doesn't know where the ring went.

Where she put it- still in her pocket when she was changing into her dress for the battle? Which pocket- pants or coat? Where had she put those- no one had bothered much with stuff like laundry when there were fortifications to be made! Not with Vaggie running daily drills on how to fight exorcists, not with Charlie scrambling to learn how to fight after a life of not ever wanting or needing to, but heaven had done those things to Vaggie, had hurt her, and wanted to do worse to their friends and Charlie would be DAMNED if-

had Charlie's one random set of clothes survived the blasts from the battle? Had they been sitting in the rubble somewhere? The ring- the ring should have made it- it'd been made to LAST after all-

Had someone else found it? She would've heard if anyone from the hotel had picked up a fancy ring though- a random cannibal or sinner maybe?

Or...

... maybe it was just lost. Just, gone.

Fallen in some crevasse or crack into some deeper part of hell, if it hadn't been melted and shattered with all the holy and unholy power being thrown around.

She knows exactly what that would look like, after all those times spent checking the ring, staring at it and trying to picture Vaggie wearing it without squeeing too loud. It would've looked good on her- but that daydream is gone too, and Charlie just sees the ruins of it.

Black obsidian band broken, gold edging melted, inner inscription burned away. The paired musical notes articulated with fermata like little rising suns above them (the pause, to be held as long as they wanted it to be) bracketed and bracketing the blood red, small, heart-shaped diamond....

All of it now probably just one dulled chip of rock lying somewhere no one will ever see.

Charlie, standing in the middle of her and Vaggie's new bedroom, staring at Vaggie asleep in their bed- her exhausted girlfriend planted face-fist into a pillow, silver gray angel wings flopped awkwardly over the covers and spreading out so long and slack (relaxed) they droop over mattress on either side, flight feathers brushing the floor.

The scars are still there too. Also silvery pale in the dim glow of hell outside the windows.

But when Charlie finally releases KeeKee and slips over to adjust Vaggie's pillow (she'd get a cricked neck otherwise) she has to stop and kneel down on the floor for a bit (down on one knee again too) and stare.

Vaggie's smiling in her sleep. Her eyepatch is off for the night, thin slit of black nothing peeking out under the lashes of that eye, and Charlie can see the fresh scars on her left arm from fighting off Lute.

Charlie, picking up Vaggie's left hand playing with it again, like she had up in heaven. Pressing a small kiss to the stab wound in it's palm.

It would've been nice to put on ring on that hand instead.

But Charlie finds herself smiling anyway, softly, as she squeezes into the thin strip of space between Vaggie and the edge of her side of the bed. She snuggles in close, Charlie's cheek on Vaggie's scarred hand and her arms wrapping tight around her own small piece of something way better than heaven.

Vaggie's wing stirring and drawing in, folding over Charlie like an extra blanket and a dreamy hug, not even having to be awake to want her closer.

"Next time," Charlie whispering as she falls asleep looking at her partner- her partner in every way that matters. "'m gonna wait for you to ask... 's your turn to worry about stupid rings, and, stuff...."

On the carpet in the middle of the room, KeeKee licks a paw. Stops. Coughs. Spits something out- something that chimes metallically as it bounces and rolls off the edge of the carpet an onto the floor-

KeeKee sniffs the thing curiously. Bats at it with one paw, pushing it under a dresser drawer. Then, bored, licks said paw and saunters off.

Vaggie's startled wings will fling herself backwards so hard and fast into the bedroom wall she'll end up giving herself a concussion, later, when she finds the ring.

it's her turn to worry about it, after all

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #au idea #silly headcanons #maybe?#fluff and sad and angst and fluff again #uhhhhh so charlie's day up in heaven!#can we make it Worse?#maybe... maybe......#maybe she'll still be okay afterwards anyway #if she has vaggie to snuggle with #<3

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desparaic · 2 months

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Imagine Rengoku's son traveling to the past pt.2

Rengoku X Fem! Reader

Also in the future, there’s a long pause after red light arc. Hence tengen already retired in Future Son’s timeline. and [spoiler alert] yes we will absolutely ignore the mark curse

read part 1 here.

“Oh, what breathing technique do you use?”

You ask your…. son? kid? dang you never thought you would be able to say that to a teenager this early in your life, especially when you’re not long into the marriage

“Flame breathing!” He says with a proud grin (why this kid so cute you wanna coddle him to death)

“Following your father’s footstep, I see! Did he teach you personally?” You smile, thinking about your husband teaching your son swordsmanship. Ugh the thought of it makes your heart melt.

“Nope. From Grandfather!”

huh?

tafa???

Grandfather??? Like Rengoku’s father??? Your father in law???? The man who can’t even get up and do something else other than drinking and yelling at other people?????

He taught your son flame breathing?????

You are confusion

You ask why didn’t his father teach him instead

“… Anyway! Do you want to spar?”

This kid—

okay, well, clearly he doesn’t want to talk about it. Maybe he’s on bad terms with his father???

But you can’t imagine Kyojuro being a bad father or someone who has a tense relationship with his kids. The last thing he wants to be is to be like his father. You know that. He himself told you that before.

So maybe he’s just in the middle of an argument with his father??? Like… a really long one…

yeah that could be it

So you decide to spar with him (you don’t have anything else to do anyway other than walking around the nearby village)

you kick his butt

It feels refreshing and fun. not because you’re beating your future child.

You never have this feeling sparring with anyone before. It’s cute. You’re experiencing a mother-son time except…. you ain’t a mother yet… but you are— will??? idk

In the middle of sparring (how many rounds has it been??), Kyojuro appears with a big grin, before it fades and he tilts his head confusedly.

“MY LOVE! WHO IS THIS PERSON??”

Hooo boy

Both of you whip your head to see him

“HE LOOKS JUST LIKE ME! HAHAHA!”

Bless your husband, he isn’t even phased that there’s a rando lookin like he’s his clone

BUT YOU HECKAAA EXCITED, about to tell Kyojuro that he’s—

You see your (future) son’s conflicted face contorted to anger, then calm. “Ah. I’ll take my leave right now. I’m thirsty.”

He leaves just like that.

You’re confused

has future you ever taught him manners

Is… Was the argument that bad????

Poor Kyojuro is so confused, looking at the boy leaving.

“Who was that young fellow?”

You explain that that’s his son

His face shows a split second of surprise before it immediately switches to excitement

(he doesn’t even ask how that’s possible like ok)

“HE’S MY SON??? OH WHAT JOY! S/O. THAT IS OUR SON!”

Yes, yes you just told him that of course you know lol

But you’re so confused as to why your son would just leave like that. You honestly expect him to be just as excited to see his dad like he did with you

and so

the chaos and conflicts and confusion and everything related ensues

Practically everyone knows your future son is here

They’re dying to meet him

Uzui is proud of what he has become. Man’s flamboyant. can even take a hard pat on his back! (he nearly died)

Mitsuri is so excited!!! She keeps giving him sakura mochi and all other snacks and talks to him a lot!!! Sees him as her lil bro ngl (tho technically it should be nephew)

Shinobu too is very sweet towards him and tells him he’s welcome anytime to the Butterfly Estate to just have tea and chat (every time they interact your son’s face turns tomato red. does he have a school boy crush????)

Tomioka is just happy the boy talks to him often

its cute. you can tell he admires the water hashira a lot

Sanemi scoffs and thinks he still has a long way until he is strong

like who tf think does this kid think he is

but he supposes the kid has potential

Obanai acknowledges him and greets him even though he scares your son sometimes

Gyomei. Cats. lots of pats. lots of fluff. nuff said

Muichiro always forgets his name

Tanjiro is super shocked but is happy to get along with Rengoku’s future son!! Nezuko takes a liking to him immediately and warms up to him (Zenitsu seething rn)

surprisingly inosuke oddly silent around him at first…. before he inevitably challenges him to a fight

The son ofc know who they all are (he still does not like young Zenitsu)

Also, he nearly spilled Tanjiro and Kanao’s future relationship oops ig at the present they aint tgt yet 🤷‍♂️

They all think he’s great!

But… there is one thing for sure

And what confuses them the most

is that he absolutely hates the mention of his father

Whenever someone brings up the fact he looks just like Rengoku or they compare the father and son, boy gets real upset and angry

Like??? huh???

You’d thinking a kid would be proud to have someone like Rengoku as their father

Apparently not

Kyojuro catches on to this.

I mean, its hard not to tell that every time he approaches the boy, he just pretends the hashira never exist

Kyojuro kinda concerned and worried

And frankly, he’s kinda sad too.

He wants to spend his time with his future son before who knows when he’ll return back to his time!

Eventually, Rengoku catches him a place where the kid can’t escape easily

He asks the kid what is wrong and what is really going on

Dang… it really hurt seeing your own kid (even though technically not yet) glaring at you like that

The kid only grumbles excuses and that’s it

Kyojuro gently tries to push him to open up

Really wants to know what’s going on poor man please give him a break

“I can tell you don’t like to converse with me… why is that? I would love to get to know my own son!”

Rengoku Kyojuro would never expect that sentence would completely make his own future kid snap.

“Son??? Hah. Sure.”

???????????

The??? Audacity???

My man Kyojuro isn’t even phased (again, bless his patient heart) he’s just confused

What does that mean?

“Did… I do something…?”

“Something???? Something…?????” the boy clenched his jaw, “Don’t act like you care.”

… But he does tho.

At this point the flame hashira just wants to know what he did wrong to make him so mad

“Oh, you really wanna know what you did?” He says in such a bitter tone. Whatever Kyojuro did, he musta pissed him reeaaal off.

“Y…Yes…?”

“… Fine. Not like it’ll change anyway considering how easily you threw us away.”

pardon?

“You hurt Mother. You left her when she needed you the most. You left us! Because you think your job is better than this little family!”

….huh?

“I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t und-“

“When she needed you the most, you just up and left her! Just like that! What do you think I’ll feel about that, huh?”

Kyojuro… did that? He can’t even fathom leaving you for a split second! What was future him thinking?

“You left Mother! When I was still… When she was still pregnant and needed you… You chose to go on a mission instead of being there for her!”

“Do you know how much my mother begged you not to go? How she endlessly express her worries and concerns, even though she never doubted you before??”

“Do you know how much it hurt her when you promised her nothing will happen, only for some crow to announce that you died in a fight with an Upper Moon, a fight you could’ve avoided! A FIGHT THAT YOU SO SELFISHLY WENT ON AND JUST DIED?!”

…

Hold on…

Hang on—

What?

—————————

I was supposed to finish this all in one post, but I reached the limit… Gonna post part 3 soon

#demon slayer #kny rengoku #demon slayer kyojuro #kny #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku my beloved #rengoku x reader #demon slayer rengoku #kyojuro x reader #kny kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku x you #rengoku x y/n #rengoku kyojuro x reader #hoo boy its angst time

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sommerflue-22 · 1 year

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Watch It! - KNY Headcanons

Somebody just shove you aggressively in a club. They spare you a glance, laugh, and walk away. Of course, your partner will not let it go just like that... In other words, what KNY characters say and/or do to defend you from intoxicated, insufferable people in a club.

Featuring: Aged up Kamaboko Squad (-Kanao), Sanemi, Kyojuro, Tengen, Giyuu

Warning: Mention of alcohol

Word count: 533

Somebody shoves you aggressively when you and Tanjiro are hanging out by the bar. I don't think he will initiate any fight or whatever, he'll just yell "What's your problem, dude?" before turning to you and asking whether you're okay. He will definitely have a handkerchief ready in case somebody spill their drink on you.

We all know Zenitsu is not an aggressive person. If someone bumps into you a tad too aggressive he will pull you to his side. "Oi, back off! Stay away from my partner!" Might not sound too scary, but he will give them an unwavering stare, ready to knock him down even because he's kinda drunk himself.

Inosuke, on the other hand, will definitely provoke the other person to fight. "What the fuck? Oi, come over here! Who do you think you are, shoving my mate like that? Over my dead body, fucker!" It gets rowdy real fast, mate. Sober or drunk, he will fight.

Similar to Inosuke, Genya will not hesitate to fight back the other person. He'll shove them back, "Watch it!" What happens next depends on how the other person reacts. If they back away, Genya will only tell them to get lost. If they taunt him, they better run. Genya will drag them outside, god knows what will happen next.

Sanemi is definitely Genya's role model in this whole "how to defend your partner in a club" thing. Sanemi will pull the person's collar back, forcing them to look him in the eye, "You're messing with the wrong people, you pathetic shit." Of course, his scars will most likely intimidate the other person. If they're trying to fight him, though... You better not let him fight, honestly. He might break the other person's bone(s).

Tengen despises drunk assholes. He thinks everyone should drink flamboyantly. Being drunk is fine, as long as they don't pick a fight with other people. Which is why he can't tolerate the person who shoves you or any of his wives. "That's soooo tacky of you. Are you sure you're supposed to be here? Should I kick your ass flying to the nearest landfill? Yknow, since you're acting so trashy like that..." Again, not that intimidating but don't forget this man is almost 2 meters tall.

I believe Kyojuro will make sure you're alright before he turns to the person. "Hey, you! Yeah, you! We need to talk!" It doesn't always work, of course, considering the other person was hella drunk or just rude. Not the most aggressive man, but he's there to have fun with you and he will make sure you do have fun. So, he'll just take you to a less crowded area and buy you another drink.

At first you might think Giyuu won't do anything since he just froze in his place as the person walks away. However his eyes widens and trails the person's move. Before you can say or do anything, he already follows them and delivers a hard slap against the back of their head. When the person turn around to find the culprit, Giyuu already walks away like nothing happened. He gets back to you and pull you closer to him.

Author Note

This is not beta-read. I'm just having a pre-party anxiety cus my friends are about to drag me to a nightclub but honestly I'm not a party person Idk what to do, what to wear UGH

Hope you enjoy tho <3

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny headcanons #demon slayer headcanons #reader insert #kny x reader #tanjiro x you #zenitsu x you #inosuke x you #genya x reader #tengen x you #kyojuro x reader #sanemi x reader #giyuu x reader #not beta read #clubbing #alcohol #headcanon #new blog

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 5 months

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rating luxiem and noctyx by how good they would be at taking care of bugs

my name is unit 4402 and i’m typing this on my phone. autocorrect’s suggested emojis are going to go crazy wish me luck

tags: ambiguous relationship, can be read as platonic or romantic, gender neutral reader, fluff, humor, bugs and spiders

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🖋 Ike Eveland: 4/10

he’s neutral about most bugs. he’ll pick up critters like beetles and caterpillars with his hands and set them outside

gets grossed out by the nastier bugs though. won’t touch ‘em himself, they’re lucky if he can gather himself enough to get a paper and cup. otherwise it’s swatter time with gritted teeth and barely mustered courage

SPIDERS. HOWEVER.

certified spider hater. absolutely terrified of them get out of here!!!

he'll use a swatter, pesticides, everything. but he’s so afraid of how they disappear when he’s not looking

you’ll have to keep an eye on it while he finds the pesticide or vice versa

if he’s unfortunate enough to be the one to kill it you’ll have to hype him up, calm his nerves, and then tell him it’s okay once the deed is done

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🦁 Luca Kaneshiro -100/10

this guy… easily the worst of both units at bug duty. you might just have to take the bullet

he gets sketched out by even the cute ones like butterflies and ladybugs if he looks at them for too long. there’s no way he could even take a moth with a level head

he even reacts to all of them the same. “AAAAH! T-t-there’s a [BUG NAME] in [room name]!”

even so he tries to be nice to them with a cup and paper, or some other method to get them out of his space

unfortunately australian wildlife has prepared him so smaller bugs are still scary but he’ll be a big scared scary mafia boss and take action

and everyone says they’ll leave the house as a joke if they can’t find the spider but it’s luca. there is a solid chance that he will invite you to stay with him in one of the kaneshiro vacation homes for about three days. that’s enough time for the bugs to leave, right?

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino: 10/10

oh! a bug!

is rather delighted at bug!

honestly if it’s a cool bug he might just take a video of it doing its thing and give it a personality!

he has a out-of-sight, out-of-mind philosophy with bugs. he’s fine with just about anything as long as they aren't annoying

harmful pests will get swatted tho ofc

everything else, he’s fine with bringing outside himself without much fanfare

some of them are a little creepy but he tries to rationalize it. they’re just tiny animals and he’s a big strong sorcerer, it’s fine. what are they gonna do, infest him to death?

…he’s going to spray the house down later just to be sure.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👹 Vox Akuma: 9/10

a wild card. and also VERY emotionally invested in any bugs that come his way whether that’s good or bad

if they manage to sneak up on him he’ll probably yell “WOAH” or curse out of surprise, then figure out whether he should be scared or not

surprisingly fine with the nastiest of them. he actually loves worms, centipedes and similar critters, and he’ll even admire them if they stumble into his territory

“look reader this is me if i were a worm. would you still love me if i was a worm 🥺” “vox please just get that thing outside”

spiders have a 50-50 survival chance. he’ll kill small spiders but bring the big ones outside because the big ones are like full Animals to him and slaughtering animals is not something he can bring himself to do (tiny ones don’t count)

are scorpions bugs? do they count? either way that’s his one objection. he wouldn’t touch them with a ten foot pole if he had the choice, but if you’re really that scared, then he’ll put on a brave face and hide his fear

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🎭 Alban Knox: 2/10

if he’s going to take care of a bug you need to make peace with the fact that he will whine the entire time

not a cute fun whine either. he’ll complain the entire time that it’s gross and nasty and ewww yuck ugh!

and that’s just for beetles and caterpillars

show him a spider or something else just as creepy and he will actually scream

and yell as he fumbles around to take care of it

and yell as he eventually grabs it with his hands (he’s panicking a little too hard to get a tool)

and yell as he tries to open the door and throw it outside

this is assuming he doesn’t find a slipper nearby. if he has a tissue or something he’ll smash the bug over and over until it’s pulverized

and he’ll STILL be yelling while he does that

the job gets done but at what cost

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🐑 Fulgur Ovid: 6/10

he’s not a 6/10 because he dislikes bugs. he’s neutral towards them, not really creeped out by them but not a fan either

he’s a 6/10 because he’s a dick about taking care of them for you

here’s how it usually goes: you summon him to save you from a creepy crawly. he’ll inspect it and go “really, you’re scared of that little thing? look at it closer, it’s just a bug”

and once he quits fooling around he just swipes it up. his fingers are solid steel which allows for Precise Bug Snatching

but he’ll act unsure and go “i think i got it. here, reader, look inside my hand and tell me if you see it”

or even the dreaded move where he pretends he’s bringing the bug closer to you so you have to see it

and THEN once he’s outside he’ll open his hands and go “wait i think i lost it” just to get a rise out of you until he confirms yes, it’s safe and out of the house

if you’re legitimately terrified then he doesn’t even bother with the jokes. just point out the bug and close your eyes, and he’ll be washing his hands while you stare back at a smudge on the wall before you can even get out a sentence

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🔗 Sonny Brisko: 8/10

somehow both a gentle soul and a complete menace

he's very matter-of-fact when you point them out. "it's just a little jumping spider, no big deal ¯\_(ツ)_/¯"

in fact he's almost adorable with how he quietly talks to the bugs and coaxes them to crawl on his hand so he can get them out of your way

and then he prods and begs you to take a picture of the bug bc it's a cool little guy

surprisingly knowledgeable and can identify bugs easily, so once he's got one in his hands he'll show it to you and tell you some facts about it

which is very sweet except for the fact that it's still a nasty bug and you want it out of your face!

he'll lightly tease you over being so scared of a little bug while he takes them outside. and if it's a pest-eater like a spider he'll hide it in a dark corner out of your sight

overall very kind to bugs and thinks they're friendly

which is why it throws you so hard that sometimes after he coos over them he just FUCKING SMASHES THEM IN HIS PALM?

NO HESITATION AT ALL??

WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM???

also when the bug is taken care of he'll sneak behind you and lightly tap his fingers up your arm like a creepy-crawly and then laugh when you get scared. what a shithead

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

🔮 Uki Violeta: 15/10

the very essence of "i'm not locked in here with you, you're locked in here with ME"

it's like watching a cat hunt an unaware mouse. he's so quick about it

and he's so good at it too?? he'll find the bug, swat it, and throw the remains away in less than a minute on a good day

doesn't even act like it's a big deal either, he just goes back to what he was doing before you asked for help

he uses tissues or shoes on the big ones like roaches, but anything small, he's surprisingly good at crushing them with his bare hands. this is especially funny when he has acrylics on bc those nails never get dirty nor in the way

spiders get the relocation pass, and he'll insist they stay inside, just out of sight

non-zero chance if you complain about it, he'll go on a lecture about how spiders are how you prevent other pests from invading the house

honestly you only see this side of uki once. the bugs are too scared to show their faces after this stint

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

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winterxisxcomingx · 3 months

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How would sera react to Emily dating Charlie and vaggie

ready for some angst?

to put it simply, Sera wasn't happy to hear the news

and Emily was afraid to tell her, but... but they already told Charlie's dad and Vaggie's friends... Emily couldn't be the only one to back out

she went alone to talk with sera, her girlfriends waiting for her behind the closed door

(she & her girlfriends were later so thankful for Charlie's good hearing)

Sera expected to hear something she won't like. She expected that Emily committed adultery. Maybe even with woman - after all, she was in hell for so long, bad influence could badly affect her

but it was worse, so so much worse

Sera's first reaction was disgust and resentment. She was looking at younger seraphim with terrifying fury in her eyes, and she didn't think for a second before she slapped Emily's cheek,

"How dare you, Emily, you, the daughter of Heaven, one of God's children, to commit such a sinful sin!"

Emily was too surprised, too confused, to even answer Sera. And Sera never stopped talking, or yelling, really

"...-aughter! You know what Holy Bible said! 'But because of the temptation to sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife and each woman her own husband.' and you're not even a Human nor a soul nor a daughter of both! This is another sin to your growing list of them!"

At that moment, Emily, touching her already swollen and red cheek, started crying. She knew, she knew, she never forgot Heaven's teachings but... but how could that be wrong, this, this shouldn't be wrong! Everyone involved were happy so how-? But she was silenced by Sera, couldn't say a word against her angry monologue

"... Tell me, did you commit adultery too? And with a demon and fallen angel to that? Are you proud of yourself?"

Sera take a hold of Emily's arms, squeezing it way too hard

"S-Sera, please, I beg you, s-stop, I didn't mean to, It isn't like that-"

"Was it worth it, Emily? WERE THEY WORTH IT!?"

The last thing Emily saw, were her girlfriends breaking through the closed door. Charlie already in her beautiful demon form, Vaggie's weapon ready. She heard their voices as her vision was going black. Before she fell onto the floor, she could hear their panicked voices and two pair of hands holding her from falling on the hard floor.

After that, Charlie and Vaggie didn't let Emily see Sera for a long, longest time. Who could blame them, tho?

#two and half halos #charlie's angels #charlies angels #chaggily #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #charlie morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel emily #emily x charlie x vaggie #vaggie x charlie x emily #emily x charlie morningstar #emily x vaggie #chaggie #hazbin hotel sera #sera & emily

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darksxder · 1 year

Text

the good plant pollen

pairing: fem! recom reader x na’vi miles quaritch

summary: getting hit by a sex pollen on your first mission as a recom was not exactly ideal, but thankfully your colonel helps you out

warnings: dubious consent (due to sex pollen), pwp, masturbation, sexual tension, p in v sex, public sex, voyeurism, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, na’vi heat cycle/sex pollen, power dynamics for sure (you’re his subordinate)

word count: 12.5k (HELLO???) not even sorry, my hands ache tho (from typing, not anything weird)

a.n: i requested something similar from @shadowshart but realized I wanted to play with this idea myself also lmao (read their story it slaps!)

GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH BACKSTORY I'M SORRY OKAY.

also thank u to my roomie for helping me with ideas, love u s.

dts: to the lovely @shadowshart herself (im ur biggest fan fr, sorry i flood your inbox) & @tarrynightss for beta reading, love you bae <3, @spiderlover03 for wanting this fic so bad and always, @belle82devart

*******

You wouldn't be in this situation if you paid attention.

You swear it.

You knew you should have been paying attention to Darcy as she pointed out things from the slideshow of venomous and otherwise deadly plants and wildlife on Pandora to avidly avoid, but you swore you knew it all already. Or at least you think you did from your other life.

You remember certain blurry flashes of colours and ramblings of a safety meeting, the dim room packed with row after row of benches full of whispers and muddled mumbles of ‘dangerous’, ‘claws’ ‘toxins’ ‘ leaching from skin’. Just a monotonous repeat of: ‘deadly’, ‘deadly’, ‘deadly.

All you could truly remember was watching Quaritch’s arms flex as he addressed you all, the way his face tensed as he spoke, just an octave under a yell, always. The strain in his neck. You were in the front row, leaning in, all for the guise of catching every word he spoke and you had at the time, but still, he was the major thing on your mind even then.

And now he was still a distraction, with his thick thigh pressed against yours, his heat leeching off of him and gripping at you, travelling up your side, up your neck, tingles spreading through your extremities. If you moved away an inch you would be on Lyle’s lap. That was not an option despite the constant light flirtatious jokes shared between you.

And no matter how sick it was, you enjoyed this stolen touch. It still felt forbidden. Probably because it still was.

He was still your colonel, you were still his subordinate.

How unlucky to be given the chance to live two separate lives where you were infatuated with him, and in both, you could not have him.

He didn't seem to mind this touch now so why would you? Honestly due to this you truly had no chance of paying attention to this safety presentation before the mission. It would have usually had your rapt attention, but something about this morning had you anxious and the touch of Quaritch had your stomach all fluttery and your mind wandering as the scientist spoke.

She was a mean woman, about your age, or at least the age you were as a human, your na’vi body was only 20. She had fierce red-brown hair that hung in long, frizzy waves. A headband pushed the bangs back from her face harshly as she rolled up her sleeves and continued talking. On her pale face, she wore teal eyeliner, and you suspected it was a strange way to place herself firmly in the recom team spirit, but what got you was her personality. She was fiery, she bit back at everyone, insults that went a toe too far, were her supposed comfort, terrorizing her fellow scientists through nitpicks and badgering in sickly sweet mocking tones in the morning and dragging them to the lab past reasonable hours.

Overall just metaphorically making them bend to kiss her feet.

Quaritch liked her. Not enough to like her as a person, but enough to appreciate the snark, the tone. Enough to ask general Admore to put her on their team for good the first week when she yelled at one of her many scientist underlings who got in Quaritch’s pathway.

Sometimes you wondered if he fucked her.

But when you did, you got sick at the thought and quickly extinguished it.

You focus back, feel the rumbling of the bench underneath you. Lyle was laughing beside you so loud it reverberated through the metal. Your eyes snapped up to see a deep red, long-leaved plant displayed on the screen and all of the recoms laughing. Darcy looked a bit too pleased with her ability to make Lyle wheeze.

“Overall it's not exactly supplying the good type of plant pollen if you know what I mean.” A wink. You did not indeed know what she meant and you heard Quaritch huff a laugh behind you.

“ Unless you like being on a rock for hours, I guess. There is a reason the na’vi call it the tsewtx toruk ”

Mansk spoke behind you. “The fuck does that mean?”

You laughed, which made Darcy glare at you. “It means dirty dragon. Its namesake is for its potency, strength and umm… tenacity or stamina it gives the user. As well as the physical symptoms of intense fever and hot flashes. But again like everything else, it is deadly. You would fuck till you drop essentially. Stay away.” A click and she was onto something new and you tuned her out again. Willing yourself to soon be able to make it out of the room, to be without her nasally voice if even for only an hour’s reprieve.

You were still focused on other things, panic flaring as you remembered you got up late this morning. Now mentally calculating how fast you would have to be after the meeting to make it back to your bunk and clean up your station before bed check later when you got back. But you focused pivoted again.

Not very far, just to your right.

Your colonel was so very close to your side. You were trying not to stare, truly, but you knew you weren't doing a good job. Your side eyes were never particularly subtle, Mansk and Lyle told you this for years and yet you continued. You couldn't control it. And it didn't help that you were much more noticeable in your na’vi body.

******

You were used to being firmly human and tiny for your age.

You were a stealth operative under Miles Quaritch for the RDA at twenty years old nearly 14 years ago. A lifetime ago. Able to even sneak past every na’vi and even Eywa herself they swore, but you never thought that was quite true. They nicknamed you Ghost anyways.

You pretended to hate it.

But when you had snuck into their village one day when they were gone to the river for a ceremony, taking pictures of the internal structures undetected, the team had celebrated you. Seriously celebrated, and even made a makeshift cupcake to commemorate the breakthrough. But it was not something done lightly and the cupcake was neither edible nor good, but you had eaten it. Had smiled, and allowed yourself to be jostled by firm slaps and pats on the back of Wainfleet and the rest as the guilt gnawed at you slowly.

But Quaritch noticed, he always did.

He found you out on the bridge that night, leaning against the rail as you gazed at the depths of emerald tones that made up the forest.

“You did well today. I know it’s difficult, soldier, but you did well.”

You looked up, startled to see him at your side. So much taller than you, even as a human. White hair cropped short and clothes pressed even at the late hour. Not a single wrinkle.

The deep scars on the side of his head caught in the blue-white light of Hell’s Gate’s fluorescents as he talked. They almost shined as if they were a platinum badge. His blue eyes lit up an icy hue. You felt your palms sweat as you readjusted your grip, feeling yourself shake just slightly. The once-chilled air of the brig was warm as you felt him step beside you.

Always on your right side, after having noticed you tense the first day, when he saddled up to your left. You had bad hearing on the left side and hated the anxiety of someone being on that side. He switched wordlessly when he saw you tense. His jaw set, eyes facing forward. He did it wordlessly and never left that right side view since then, even when agitated at you.

Especially then.

If he didn't like you, which you were sure he didn't, he at least respected you.

That was rare for him and it was enough.

It was enough.

But now as you try to shove images of burning forests and screaming na’vi from your mind you could barely see him. You were so tangled, knotted and sick at the way you would be and always were in a way a part of it. All of the atrocities, the death. Once you had been passive but now you had chosen to be firmly active.

He followed your gaze to your hands, you could feel it before you matched his stare to your white knuckle grip on the metal rail. You unclenched, shaking out your burning hands. A deep sigh rumbled from his chest, the sound seemingly following the curve of your spine as he leaned back. Dog tags clinked as he leaned farther forward over the rail to properly see you, to meet your eye. You indulged him only just to see his gaze be soft if only for a fleeting second as you gave in. You were always nervous about its absence, but it was always there. For you, at least.

You tried to smile, but it was barely a twitch of your lips, your knees aching as you tensed next to him. You had been standing here for hours after the so-called ‘party’ had died down.

Music booming in your ears, rattling your hunched frame in the corner as a small smile twitched at your lips to assuage that you were okay as the world fell apart around you. Breathing in the stale air of the gym in the brig, smelling dust, metal and sweat and of course the sweet vodka peach drink Zdinarsk spilled on your elbow as you moved past her. You took in everything as you sunk into the concrete behind you, revelling in the cold bite of the chilled material. Just watched as Zdog and Prager shouted lyrics to a Jay Z song, fingers pointing up to god knows what, rotating between gesturing the song out and rounding Lyle and Mank's shoulders as they laughed, half belligerent, drinks sloshing onto the concrete ground from battered red plastic cups. Since slipping out the back and avoiding the colonel's eyes hours later, you were just here.

Unmoving as the base winded down further and people prattled around its large expanse. All flitting about with briefcases and files as they rushed past you to their makeshift homes. Tired eyes focusing on the idea of their beds as the day was wasted and the next promised to start just as early. They filled the once cold lifeless gray space with life for a time until the night truly dwindled. The eclipse lit everything a bright purple. Awash in colours of magenta, and violet you just breathed, hands shaking as you inhaled. Your gaze never leaves the wonders beyond the glass surrounding you.

Now you were here and he had finally found you.

“You know why you're so good at your job, Ghost?”

A sigh slipped past your lips. Your shoulders caved in as your eyes slid shut once more at his deep raspy voice. At the use of your moniker, a remembrance of reality. He was your colonel. You were but a soldier. You were no hero, certainly not now.

No woman he had met by chance. Not a friend of his, of anyone, no longer a sister, no longer even your first name.

Just Ghost.

“No. Why, Colonel?”

And he hated how weak your voice was as he brushed calloused fingertips against your hands. So slight you were sure it was an accident. Your gaze shot to his, heart jumping painfully, back straightening as you stiffened. His eyes kept yours as he pried your hands from the rail none so gently, turning the right palm up and sliding something small and cool into your hand before closing your fingers around it, softer than the initial yank from the rail. But only by a fraction. All he could afford you.

Shivers raced up your spine, your chest aching at the touch, lurching with it.

“Wh-”

“It’s because you care. The animals out there don't notice you because they know you care. Like they know you wouldn't hurt them, even when vulnerable and squattin’ in the mud. You just have to remember to care for your kind more, alright?”

Your lip wobbled, voice much too weak to speak as you merely nodded, gaze trailing down again. Heart racing and fear clawing at you as you just stood there, weak and mortified, scared that he knew it all. Had the power to have you called a potential traitor for your empathy.

You wondered if when he said animals he meant the na’vi or the wildlife. You swallowed hard, eyes burning, squeezing shut as if you could wring the horrible thought from your mind, keep your heart from sinking to the depths alongside your stomach. You did not want to ask, for you knew already.

Your eyes tracked your beaten-up converse on your aching feet as you shuffled from your left to right leg, ignoring the prickles that raced up your shins. Caught on the only remnant of your sister left. She died in failed cryo on the way here. The heart drawn in sharpie on your left toe from your last day together. After, you both collapsed in exhaustion from packing your small joint carry-on bag the night before shipping off. It was glaringly bright in the white-tinted light illuminating the large hall now.

Still muted, smudged, and fading, but it made you smile anyways.

They were the first thing you put on each time you got back to base. The first step after a shower.

All of this, you realized you did for her. All of those like her, those left on earth. Trapped there, on a dying planet with no solution, no real plan or power to change it.

You finally braved a look at your palm, seeing a carved metal charm sitting there amongst callouses. It was crudely carved from the material but still startlingly smooth. It was a small ghost resting in your palm. No longer than your finger pad. A small hole was punched near the head with a link there to attach to your dog tags.

You let out a laugh at the sight and Quaritch was sure he had never heard anything so sweet, so close to shattering.

Your hand, gentle but rough like his, brushed against his knuckles. But this was no accident. It could never be construed as such and that was the true danger. You focused on feeling the strength there in those three seconds before your hand fell back against the now icy rail, missing the fleeting warmth he always seemed to radiate.

You just have to remember to love your kind more, alright?

“I do.”

A nod followed your soft words and he saw then just how young you were. With your two braids falling over your shoulders as you rocked back on your heels, forearms poised on the rail as you held the charm gently, close to your hoodie-clad chest, like it might break, like someone might take it from you. He focused on the light highlighting your features, and he felt his breath still for a mere moment. All at that moment it clicked in his head as if it was invisible until now, at this moment.

You were barely past being a teen, having signed on for a suicide mission with a sister who was long dead now, with few other choices six years ago. You were an excellent sniper and a keen strategist. A good follower, who took great orders. Loyal as shit. Throwing yourself in front of many projectiles from day one for strangers, colleagues and your team alike. Hell, you were probably a better soldier than all of them combined.

But you were too young. Painfully young.

Much too sweet to have calluses so deep and eyes so pained and a voice so hollow. Too young to have lost so much.

His gaze fell to your shoes, then back up as you looked back out to the horizon. He just wished you didn't wither away, yet. You were all so close to an answer. He knew it. A solution. Pandora was it. He knew you just needed a reminder and he would give you one, just this once.

You were just a kid.

Yelling never worked with you and he could never bring himself to do it anyways. You were a motivator for everyone, always picking them up with words or hands if they fell, but you were also easily motivated yourself. Easily swayed by a belief that what you were doing was good, or right. So he would give that to you. Because he needed you, he needed this whole team.

And that's all he thought when he had found that metal shard in the yard a month ago, in the vast grasses that tickled his hands as it sat in the very middle of it all. The whole operation and base. And he took it back to his room to carve. Immediately seeing the small timid ghost in the shape. It was barely the size of the pad of his thumb when he was done, whittling it to near nothing, slivers embedded in his palm, his skin. It only took him a night. He worked in between sets of weights and paperwork he barely dared to usually do, fingers always itching to pick up the tools again. Its creation in itself was motivating.

He tried not to think of why he was doing it. Pondered why he couldn't put it down when he started.

Why did he wait so long to give it to you? Why did he dread how you would react? Why was he so sure of how you would?

Just as you were now.

Soft, kind and something else he wished he didn't see. He refused to see as he too looked at the expanse of stars above your eyes, past your stare. He wished he saw what you did there, what you talked of seeing, of feeling. You talked of a vast expanse, a deeply instilled hope, a timid purpose, a reminder that although time was not infinite, life beyond them was, the cycle of everything and anything was so endless and it didn't scare you. It brought you peace as you gazed at the bright twinkling gems cast in the inky dark.

But instead of an expanse, he saw a dome. A prison. And that charm you cradled is just the same. It was just manipulation, a trap to get you to stay.

That’s all it was.

That is all it ever could be.

******

Now you sat there trying desperately to ignore the near euphoric scent of him beside you, and how your ears were twitching towards him whenever he made a slight noise, even if it was just a deeper breath than those previous. You noted all of them and swore you could feel them in your veins.

He smelled like a bonfire, a forest after a harsh rain, coffee, something like his old cologne with tangy twists to it along with gunpowder, metal. It was perhaps what his soul could be summed up as if he had one. But you were very much sure that he didn't.

But you still managed to focus upfront once more, on Darcy’s grand hand gestures with the clink of her bangles at her thin wrists as she pointed to the moving 3D images of frightening pandora fauna. Her green eyes were bright even in the dimmed light of the command room. The hologram was now focused on a palulukan.

A leathery wolf-like thing that caught your eye. Its teeth were so large and it was around ten feet long in size, taking up the whole room. You felt your tail thwap hard against the ground, curling around your left leg as you jiggled it harshly. Lip caught in between your teeth as you tensed, but no one paid you any mind. All you felt was your heart racing so fast you swore it might break your chest open, might splat on the ground still beating its erratic rhythm. Your fingers tighten on your empty holster as if to reach for a gun to protect yourself against the hologram threat.

“Y’know, they’re not all bad up close.” Quaritch laughed beside you, a low mocking thing that did horrible things to you.

That had your head snapping to his. Jesus, he was beautiful, that's all you could think, the anger giving way to awe as you watched his nose twitch, a look of confusion on his face, but it was gone as soon as you noticed. Like it was never there.

The stripes on his face matched his nature, sharp and melted into his bone structure. Highlighting the high cheekbones and strong jaw. His recom tags twinkled as they dangled with his strong lean forward, forearms resting on his knees. It gave you a horrible sense of deja vu you couldn't quite place. You always shoved memories of your past life away and you knew why you shoved that one out quickly. The tiny ghost charm still around your recovered dog tags felt like a collar then, even if it was tucked into your shirt, away from his view. You swore he knew. Knew he owned you.

“I’m not sure I believe you. I mean this is coming from the man who was once permanently scarred by one.” You said.

A huff.

“Plus I’m not concerned. Nothing on Pandora scares me like that.” You paused, frowning. “Not anymore.”

Not since dying. He knew what you meant.

His face was stern, but playful at the edges. It was evident in his eyes that he didn’t buy it. No muscle shifted in his face or his body, not a single hue of change seen, even of a minuscule sort, and yet you knew he was aware you were full of shit.

His eyes fell to your hands twisting in your t-shirt and you stilled them.

He laughed.

“That’s not what gave you away, Peach.”

And he leaned in, the smell of him was overwhelming, intoxicating, you felt like you were suffocating, fighting the urge to take a deep gasping breath in. He smelled so good, your ears perked up, flattening against your hair, then ruffling up again as his raspy voice whispered in your right ear as it twitched at his warm breath,

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

That only helped to increase its speed, you felt like you would faint, sure you would, but it was the least of your problems as you heard the recoms shuffle and make to move out. The dim lights now burning bright. All grabbing weapons off the table and suiting up. You hop up quickly, eager to get your hands on a gun, to then check and make sure that your bed was expertly made before inspection later, excited to get out and far away from Quaritch, from the itch he left under your skin. But the firm yank to your tank top collar had you gasping and collapsing back into his chest, your nose filled with his rich scent. You could feel his strong arms around you, one at his side, flush with your body, the other at the nape of your neck like you were a rogue kitten. You could feel his breath, your body moving, arching as his chest expanded with his inhales, could feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your tailbone, digging into the soft skin there deliciously. Heart still racing.

“Where you goin’ Rookie? Chopper’ is that way.” His eyes met yours over his shoulder, your breath stalling as you felt his eyes wander like a physical touch branding you, brushing against the hemline of your top, your heaving chest. He grunted, making an exaggerated gesture to the right side, in the direction of the hangar.

“Right, I- I just forgot something.”

He snorted. “Well tough, we gotta head out. ” And that was that.

You heard Lyle laughing at your expense, pointing at your flicking tail which you grabbed from behind you in fury at the blasted thing. It was giving away way too much to devious people around you.

The Colonel just charged ahead of you all, shoulders squared and ears flicking in irritation. He looked so mad and you had no idea why. Well, hopefully, he’ll let you off easy later at the sight of your messy sheets.

Hopefully, that scary palulukan bastard won't kill you… Hopefully, it will all go fine.

********

And it was all going fine until you spotted a viper wolf from the corner of your eye. You were a mile into the journey since drop off, muscles tight and burning from hacking at plants and hiding from leering beasts. The animals still attacked people they recognized as na’vi, just not as much as an avatar driver or god forbid, a human would. None of you were as accurately attuned to silent threats as the people of Pandora were. The recom bodies were new and native in theory to this planet, but you did not grow up as they did, hell you all grew up in a tank technically.

It had been stalking you all for a long time you gathered, it had to have been, what with the way it effectively cornered you as you all were nearing a ditch drop-off along with the certain confidence to the wind up of his body. So when it finally dashed with a horrible high-pitched laughing sound everyone turned to it, but it was already in the air.

Your hand grabbed your knife from your sheath with ease, throwing yourself in front of Quaritch and swinging your arm up with a cry. The thing launched itself with so much force that it bent nearly into a c shape as your hand slammed into its abdomen, sickly thin ribs curving over your hand, teeth snapping at your face as you swung it around, twisting the knife deep, teeth gritted in a yell, neck leaned back to avoid its teeth. Blood soaked your hands as jaws snapped at you, continuing their attempt at your face. You didn’t realize you were near the edge until it was too late. A strong kick of hind legs to your ribs shoved you off the grassy hill. Your grip slipped from the knife, and the creature it was buried inside as you went down screaming, tumbling down a rock covered slope. Wind and grass whipped past you, rocks crushing bone as you rolled, limbs flailing as you fell from various heights in between harsh slopes of land. Arms tucked around your head near the end. Muffled gasps and breaths wrenched from your lungs, various hard things crushed in your chest, and mud slid into your eye, leaving you with no sight on your left side, and with no air.

You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see.

All throughout you heard constant shouts of your name, “Ghost!” and whether it was a minute or truly an eon, you finally stopped moving, collapsing on your back, wedged under a sharp rock and something delightfully soft in contrast. Your head pounded like your heart was there.

The world was truly spinning, your stomach turning violently. The taste of metal and grass in your mouth. Splinters of sunlight fractured your vision as you pried your eyes open, looking up the long hill to the sea of blurred faces. With a groan you assessed the damage quickly, and stood shakily, trudging over with only a slight limp to the clearing next to you so they could see you were alright. But with blood running down your forehead, arms swinging around for purchase as your knees buckled, you can imagine it was not exactly affirming.

“I’m okay. Is the thing dead? Are you all alright?” You asked, voice shaky.

The clinks of rocks and mud had your heart jumping as you moved back, falling on your hands and knees, moving backwards like a crab then standing again when sense came back to you.

Someone, no idea who, was making their way down the hill, at the very loud and very kind protest of your teammates.

You found your voice as your head swam with worry, your vision still too blurry to make anyone out. You didn't want them to get hurt. “No, no it's okay. I'll find my way up. Is it dead?” You called, wondering if you had asked that already, but truly unable to remember.

Your head was severely pounding. And perhaps you were fine until a wave of dizziness blacked out your vision, and your legs gave out from underneath you. Pain ripped up your tailbone to every single cell of your spine. You felt like you might throw up as you yelped. But after wincing, and back bowing in, eyes squeezing firmly shut, your gaze met a lovely red flower beside you. With a deep blue and orange center. With oval-like petals the size of your actual face. It was ripped in half savagely and you felt the ground around you in a panic, calloused fingertips meeting soft petals wedged under your ass.

Oh no. “Shit, I’m sorry.” You whined.

A laugh. You had no idea where it came from. “What is she apologizing to? A plant?” You paid them no mind, tears welling in your eyes at your destruction of the life here. It felt like you were still the same. You huffed, gazing at the horrible tear in its side. It was nearly as tall as your waist and it looked heavy, naturally leaning against a mossy tree. A thick white substance was flowing from the flower's core. It was bleeding.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry.”

Combat training takes place before logic it seemed, as your shaking hands dipped into the flower, pressing against the center as if trying to stave it from bleeding out. But as you did so a burst of yellow dust slammed into your face. You choked, stupidly taking a deep breath in through your nose as you slid your mouth firmly shut, feeling a burn in your lungs, an itch in your nostrils. You sneezed, some of the powder falling out, dusting off of you. The flower’s essence was now burning on your hands and Darcy’s warnings kicked in much too late. You rubbed them against your rough pants, with the feverish feeling sinking in. They were no longer wet like though, almost like you had absorbed the thing.

Tingles raced up your arms as you winced, moving away quickly, truly just staggering around. Wiping your hands on the ground quickly again. But as soon as you stood on your feet your vision cleared, and everything became so much brighter.

Woah.

All of your pains faded away, almost healed. You felt great honestly. Nothing felt tilted or like a scene with a film filter on now. You felt alive, it was the only word for it. And so when Quaricth made it to the bottom finally, an almost scared expression on his face, eyebrows once furrowed in worry, scrunched in confusion. Lending to genuine shock as he watched the gash on your forehead heal itself, sealing with a pink glow, leaving your blue skin perfectly untouched.

His mouth went dry, gaze straying to the plant beside you. It looked quite familiar. Then back.

“You okay, Cupcake?” You throbbed at the nickname, deep in between your thighs, so sharp you almost fully folded over. What was that? You cleared your throat, feeling the tingles from your hands race up your windpipe as if you had just drank something fizzy, coaxing your words to slow, the octave going just slightly deeper. It didn't go away, the feeling flowing up your arms and wrapping around your waist like an embrace. Oh god. “Yeah, Let’s go.” He handed you your knife, neatly cleaned on his shirt and you stashed it back at the garter on your thigh with a wink.

He felt his steps still as you moved around him, grabbing at the rope Mansk threw down as you started to climb. You looked utterly fine, but he knew you weren't. It wasn't because he watched a gash heal itself on your skin, but instead for the fact that you had winked at him. You would never have dared.

His ears twitched, his tail flicking leaves harshly before he reined himself in again, determined to keep a firm eye on you.

*******

You knew something was wrong. Knew as soon as you touched that fucking plant. As soon as your vision cleared you knew what it was, what you had just properly and thoroughly infected yourself with. The so-called “dirty dragon”. You wish you had paid more attention, wished you didn't roll down a hill and hit your head making you delirious. Wished you were not stupid enough to try to save a goddamn plant as Lyle suspected. But here you were.

Maybe there was a cure.

Maybe you could make it back in time before it kicked in. You would never tell Darcy, she wouldn't help you anyway, but the chances of no one else noticing seemed slim. You stayed at the back of the pack, covering their backs as Quaritch led them once again. His search of the forest in front of him interspersed with glances over at you that you never failed to notice.

The recoms were just as distracting, but in an irritating way. You could smell all of them, all of their signature scents like they were pressed against you, nuzzling your face. It made your head hurt. You chose to focus on the best scent, his. It was intermingled with all of the other recoms, but it was the strongest, the best.

Your heart raced as you took deep breaths in, feeling the tingles spread from your lungs to your breasts with the action. Your gun kept slipping from your grip from sweat, it clung to your skin like a film, the relative cool of the morning in Pandora wrenched from you as heat wave after heat wave hit you. Sweat sliding down your forehead and teasing your parted lips. The rub of your thighs together as you moved in a low crouch was so intoxicating. A zing of electricity flowed up your body each time the seam of your camo pants met your center.

You were wet, so wet you could feel it. It felt like a period at first and you had panicked a little before realizing na’vi women did not get those, they reabsorbed the uterine lining as all animals should. It felt almost like a weight in between your thighs, as you noticed your arms shaking beside your head all whilst you kept the gun raised. On guard still even when you felt dizzy and faint. Hot and cold. Core aching desperately.

Quaritch raised a clenched fist and you all paused immediately as if in sync. His glance over a broad, muscled shoulder was quick, “Take the gear up three clicks and wait for Ghost and I there. Make camp.” Your core pulsed at his mere voice, an urge to be closer to him undeniable as you were still at the back of the group. Confusion marring their faces. He had an order against night ops, or at least he had as a human.

“What? Stay the night here? Are you crazy?”

It was Lopez, never shy to disagree with the Colonel's orders. But the look he gave him shut his mouth up real tight, sealing his attitude off.

“Nevermind. Let’s go. Move out.” Lopez grunted, picking up Colonel's dropped pack too before leaving. Struggling with the weight Quaritch didn't even bat an eye at.

Quaritch looked so good, hand loosely poised over his comm collar, the other resting on his cocked hip, braid swinging behind him with the motion. He looked delicious and you ached at the sight of him.

“General Ardmore, we're making camp. We’ll be back at 0600 sharp the next morning.” It was not a negotiation. You would have laughed at his gall, but it was no surprise to you and the snappy talk made you bite your lip, focusing on the deep timbre of his voice, basking in the sound.

You only snapped back to reality when you noticed the silence. Your group now a blurred mess in between faraway leaves, too far away, much farther than you remember them being. The colonel's words came back to you.

Take the gear, wait for me and Ghost there.

Leave us alone basically.

Oh god.

“Looks like you got yourself into some deep shit huh, Cupcake?” You sniffed, wiping at the sweat on your hairline frantically. “I don't know what you mean, sir. What did I do?” You squinted up at him, light spilling through long leaves to illuminate his figure, his eyes burning a bright gold in its rays.

You tasted your sweat as you took deep breaths, fists clenching as you felt your nipples rub against your bra with the move, thighs clenching slightly.

“I can hear your heartbeat, remember?”

Your face blanched, going still, eyes wide as he grabbed the strap of his vest, leaning into a hip, his lowered eyes travelling down your shaking figure.

“What plant did you fall into exactly?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. He sounded smug. The bastard.

Shaking your head, you moved around him quickly, the movement matched the slight wind, bringing his scent over you in a rush. It was so sudden-so strong and good that you gasped loud and harsh. Your pupils were blown as they stared ahead at the foliage, praying something would come out of it and eat you. End your misery as you feel your cheeks burn. Jaw clenched.

You ignored every tingle and jolt as you trudged on, hearing him fall in step behind you.

“Ghost, just tell me what it is. One of the scientist freaks can help.” You scoffed, turning back sharply, almost colliding with his broad chest, your own heaving, each breath harder to grasp. You hated this, every single part of it. Hating how every part of you wanted to be plastered to him, wanted to feel all of him. How hard you had to fight it.

“No. They couldn’t. They wouldn't.” You cry, gaze, meeting the ground in shame.

“What do you mean? They have cures to nearly every poison on this dam’ planet by now.” He moved forward as he spoke, cautious like you were a wounded animal. You bit hard enough on your bottom lip to split it, tasting metal once again as you smoothed sweaty palms down your thighs, tensing as shivers racked your body with the action. He moved even closer and you backed up five quick steps, they could nearly be counted as hops, your eyes wide with alarm.

He did not understand the danger he was in. How badly you wanted him. What you would do to have him and if he kept trying to come into your space you were not entirely sure he wouldn't find out.

“It's not a poison, Quaritch.”

A breath of silence stretched between you, both of you instead focusing on the chirps and caws of Pandora wildlife around you. And that's when he noticed it. The shaking of your hands, your voice, the blown-out pupils eating away at the gold of your eyes. The sweat. The wink. It’s not poison. What else could it have been? A healing plant was unlikely to cause these side effects. What else did Darcy-

Oh.

“Take care of it.”

You scoff, cheeks burning, tail whipping behind you sharply.

“Excuse me?” It was shrill, the embarrassment rationing off your shy side to near nothing.

He gestured to the base of a large and thick tree trunk. Made a show of turning around, arms out wide, walking twenty paces out and stilling, gun at his side. Guarding you. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't. But the thought of actually doing it, sinking into the bark, tearing off your belt and slipping your hands under your pants, feeling along your cunt all whilst he listened, watched out for you? It was insane, and you refused to give in, but despite that thought your body moved for you. Your hands were moving and your knees locking before you fell to the grassy heap at the base of the tree.

******

Quaritch was sure he would pass out any minute now. He was tense, still, waiting, a part of him hoping you’d refuse, another knowing you would not be able to.

He could smell you for miles since the fall and the collision with that damn plant. He had been hard for hours, only taking point so no one else would see it. But you never noticed, you never did.

He wasn’t looking forward to the hell General Ardmore would put him through when he got back, but he knew you would not have made it back in time. He may have been distracted during the safety presentation by your scent, your warmth, and the touch of your soft thigh through his cargo pants but he paid attention, and it paid to do so. So he knew the shit you were in and it was deep. This was meant to be agony. He just knew- His ears swivel at the clink of your belt, followed by a rush of soft breaths.

Rustling has his tail twitching up, flicking side to side, nearly hitting his bent arm on the downswing. But it goes silent again and he can't help it. “You okay, Peach?”

Your moan is loud and he chokes, nearly falling over, fighting the urge to look, already perfectly picturing what he would find. He could hear you. How slick you were, he could smell it, his mouth watering, heat pooling in his stomach, fists clenching.

“God please keep doing that, Quaritch.” You gasped. His dick twitched. He stops, stomach flipping. “Doing what?” He drawled, bringing the last syllable on a walk, loving the squeak you made in its favour. His voice came out deeper, more rasped than he would have liked but he just swallowed, hard. Fighting to not look over, slightly failing and getting a sliver of blurred blue in his peripheral vision, a glance at scattered clothes nearest to him.

“Talking.”

God. Someone save him.

It was wrong, all so wrong and yet he would do whatever you wished at that moment. He would say anything you wanted.

“What do you want to hear?”

A slick sound and another gasp and he swore he cracked a tooth with how hard he clenched his jaw. “Anything. Just need your voice. I love your voice. Fuck!” And he groaned, ears twitching against his head, eyes squeezed shut as he fought the urge.

He wouldn't do this, he wouldn't. It wasn't right, but still, he talked.

“I can smell your cunt.”

A moan.

“I could smell it for fucking miles ever since you ran into that fuckin’ plant. Could smell you. Could hear your heartbeat…both of them.”

He couldn't breathe because every time he did, he smelt you, he breathed you in and he was one step closer to losing it. To breaking.

“Never wanted to fuck something so bad in my life. Wanted to pin you up against a tree, rip all the damn' clothes off of ya’ until you admitted what you need.” He could hear your heightened breaths. “Please, I'm so close.” But he stopped, shaking his head.

“What-why?” you called, voice vulnerable. It was a whine and he was delighted. This was power and he knew how to wield it. You always wasted yours.

You could have had him back there at the bottom of the hill if you asked, in front of his whole damn team if you wished. Hell if you jumped him he would have gone for it, no questions asked. You could have had him at fifty one when you wanted him. He would’ve fucking taken you. It would have been wrong, but he would not have cared. But you never did try, never even got close when you could have. You never did the wrong thing, the thing you wanted. Needed.

But he was not you.

“I'll keep talkin’ till you cum all over those pretty fingers enough to be cured Cupcake, even if it takes till fuckin’ sunrise. But only if you let me watch.” His voice came out as a drawl, southern accent sticking to every syllable. His ears twitch to better hear you reply. It was immediate.

“Turn around.”

And he does, slow and sure like. It takes everything in him to do it that way. To not seem too eager, like he hadn't been thirsting for your pussy since you were first placed on his team, when you were barely more than a teen. You were barely twenty and he was starting fifty, and yet he had wanted you. Human or not, Miles Quaritch wanted to fuck you and he was convinced that would never go away. You were not simply something he could get out of his system, but he would try.

Good God.

His heart stopped as his gaze met yours. Your eyes half-lidded, wobbly knees pulled apart, showcasing your drenched fucking cunt. You were wearing nothing but your dog tags. He found himself walking towards you, focused on the many strands of hair that fell from your braid, plastering themselves to your body, your neck, and your arms. Your face lovely and flushed, lips parted and swollen, but not as much as they ought to be. He drops to his knees in front of you, uncaring for the gun he throws in the grass somewhere around behind him, gaze never leaving you. Your heaving chest, your heavy breasts, your full blue curves in the sunlight.

“Talk.”

It was a demand and he could meet it.

“Yeah, whatever you want, baby. I’ll do anything you want.” He was stomach to the ground, palms gripping at the earth beside him as if for solace as he took a deep breath in and held it. His eyes flashed open as he watched your small lean fingers messily draw circles on your clit, hips jerking up, chest heaving. It wasn’t enough and the scrunch between your brows was from pain, not pleasure. He was breaking as your eyes met his. It was not the first time you looked at him like that, with enough lust to make his stomach flip, but it was certainly the first time he had ever been able to do something about it.

Jesus, he needed you.

“Use me, baby, please. I can give you what you need, y’know I can. I’ll fill you up, fuck that pollen right out of you if you want me.” A shocked sound came from you as if personally offended, hands falling off your body. You stood on wobbly knees and he joined you, cock aching as he stared down at your small flushed frame. You were beautiful like this. Perfect.

He was giving the power to you. Addressing the imbalance. You could refuse him, you could shove him away and he would willingly go, but he knew you wouldn't.

“ I want you. I a- I want you. Please.” It was a rasp, your voice near gone, throat parched. And your hands, hot as the sun gripped his tank top in fistfuls under his vest. He could feel your touch even above the cloth. At first he thought you were pulling him in until you whined when he tried to close the space. Hand smoothing up his shoulders. “Want this off?” He asked, hands on his vest. You only nodded and he unclipped it, not needing to be told twice, dropping it slowly to the tree beside him, your hand now laid on his bare shoulder.

“More.” Another demand.

He barely refrained from ripping the thing off. Settling for grabbing fistfuls on the back of his shoulders and pulling it up and over his head. Before he even tossed the shirt to the ground you were kneeling, thumbs dipping to rest on his hip bones. Your nose sliding up the line of his abs, inhaling deeply. He gasped, hand finding your hair, feeling the sweat there as you licked and kissed up his stomach.

One of his hands falling to the tree to keep his knees from fuckin’ giving out. You devour every inch of skin he showed. It was perhaps the first time he ever felt worshipped, with hands the heat of the sun gripping at his lithe waist, pulling and tugging him how you wanted, as you kissed, licked and bit at him, taking your pleasure with his. Your face rubbed along his hard-on through his pants nearly every third time you kissed his abdomen or sucked on a spot of his waist.

Butterflies. He got fucking butterflies like a teenage girl when you met his eyes, smiling before pressing the softest touch he had ever experienced in both lives, above his belly button.

That was it. “Oh, fuck it.” He rasped, pulling you up by the hands still on his waist, smoothing them up to rest around his neck, soothing your confusion with shushes as his hands tucked under your thighs, yanking you up as you yelped, a giggle falling from your lips. But you were not deterred, lips attacking his neck on the left side, under his jaw right by his chin and ear, and he nearly collapsed at the feeling, the pleasure that shot deep through his veins. With a deep breath his forehead met the tree. Fucking damn it, you would be the death of him. He overestimated how much strength he needed to carry you, to fuck you standing and you landed on his big blue chest, center landing on his sternum as gravity slowly pulled you down, the ridges of his abs rubbing into your puffy clit.

*******

You threw your head back at the feeling. Your thighs squeezed his sides as you slid down to rest on his hips. His head tilted back too then, a small huff leaving his nose as he went to gaze at the sky, as if to ask for mercy. You licked a hot line up his throat, sucking hard and he moaned, vision breaking to land back on you. Furious, he looked furious and it made another honest to god giggle leave your lips. The sound made your stomach flip, your core aching as you ground your hips into him hard. But with your look at the blue sky next when he dove to kiss your neck, reality cut through the pollen-induced haze.

You were taking advantage of the situation. He was only doing this to help you, a member of his team, that was all.

“Wait, wait,” you called, breathless and panting and he did, pulling back immediately, alarm on his face. A question in his lust-blown eyes, the golden green hue nearly swallowed by the dark pupil.

“You don’t have to do this. I don’t want to infect you” You said, tears in your voice. He tensed, hands readjusting you as he aimed to meet your eyes. He hadn’t even considered you infecting him, he knew you couldn’t. But you looked so sad. Then he got it. You had to be kidding. You thought-. Fingers firm but gentle on your chin made your gaze match his. He looked down, heart nearly stopping as he saw the ghost charm glint in the sun, newly attached to your dog tags.

A gasp left him. His gaze matching yours, now electric. He would devour you. “I’d fuck you whether or not I’m high on some plant, Peach. I’ve wanted to fuck you for ages.” It came out as a purr against your cheek as he leaned in, finally admitting it.

And you know he means it. You see it in his eyes, and you swear it’s enough to do you in.

You laugh, a truly mean-sounding thing. A smirk slides onto your face. His face tucked into your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you whined, hips jerking. He could feel your wetness on his fingers, sliding down your thighs, the hard pebbles of your nipples and your heartbeat roaring against his chest in tandem. Your short breaths caught against his ear as he ground into you. You sounded nothing short of heavenly, heat curling in his abdomen, an ache forming in his chest and navel, electricity smoothing up his arms at your feverish touch.

But he felt you pulling away. He took a long time to pull away from you, even longer to open his eyes. “What, what’s wrong?” His voice was nearly gone, cracking at the seams, it was all pure ecstasy.

Another laugh met his ears as your shaky legs met the ground. You turned so your back was to him. A flush of heat slammed into him as he took the view in. He marvelled at the slope of your spine, the dips at your blue hips, the stripes on your skin, the glowing dots across your shoulder blades. You place your palms on the tree, feet spread just slightly apart and then you lean back, putting just about everything on display.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want you to fuck me from behind.”

And his hands are on your hips before you even truly finish your sentence. You hear the clink of his belt, hear it slide out of the loops, falling to the grass carelessly behind you.

“Can you do that?” You ask, hips swerving. It was a taunt. He wanted you, he could come get you.

Your back arched, pussy aching, truly dripping, heat plastered to your sweaty skin. You were fearless then, for the first time in your life. It came from being truly wanted, even if for a brief moment. A brief dalliance would be all this ever was anyways.

A quick yank to your braid as he wrapped it around his fist had you gasping, pleasurable pain ricocheting up your spine, your ass rubbing against his crotch as he pressed into you, the tree bark just barely brushing your nipples and you nearly screamed. It was too much.

“I can and will fuck you anyway you want. I’d fuck you standing.” He nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his tongue sliding along your tendon, the cool wind latching onto the saliva and making you shiver so hard you squeezed your eyes shut, knees locking, bark digging into your skin. He chuckled, “I’m gonna be buried so deep inside this cunt you'll never be able to forget it.” His filthy words were accompanied by one strong palm smoothing over your left hip, pressing against your abdomen, ghosting your navel. “You’re gonna feel me here.” You whined. Clenching around nothing.

It was painful. The plant coming in full force, demanding to be bred and fucked. Waves of pain spread the feeling of knives along your skin and he seemed to notice the switch from pleasure to pain again. His mask dropped. He didn’t ask what you needed, he already knew. Fingers slipped down to your cunt, and he swore, his hand slipping almost past it with how slick you were as if moving through water.

“Fuck, you're so wet.” One hand gripped at your breast, acting as an anchor to his chest, to ensure you stayed steady, ready for him as he thrust three fingers inside you. He swore as he felt your tight, slick heat.

A gasp and a moan met his ears as your back arched, ass pressing into him, one hand gripped at his wrist, begging for what you were not sure about- but he did. His fingers were so thick, so good and you couldn't even think as he pressed three inside you all at once with a deep groan, slowly pumping them in and out, the sound of it almost comically loud as he focused on pressing up at just the right angle and depth to have you screaming, clenching around him so perfectly.

Fuck, you were going to absolutely milk his cock.

You fell forward, pleasure rushing over you like waves. You grasped at the tree desperately, knees going weak. “Please,” you moaned as his thumb slipped over to rub small tight circles around your clit. You went higher and higher, breaths lasting mere seconds as you gasped, voice high as you moaned. It was so fucking good, your tip toes pressing into the ground as you leaned up into his touch, hips grinding on his huge fucking hand. His thrusts turned faster, harder, hitting the perfect spot. A sharp press of his fangs to the back of your neck, the broad base of his chest against you, pressing your nipples just slightly against the rough bark and you shattered.

He had to hold you up as he kept pumping his fingers, barely able to move them as your orgasm took over, clenching around him in waves as he continued to fuck you. It was a momentary reprieve. He could tell that was not enough because your breaths just picked up speed again and you arched your back further. “Inside, please. I just need you. I’m ready.” He wasn't sure if that was true, but he also couldn't imagine you could be more prepared. He pulled his fingers out of you, watching your essence fall to the forest ground.

He gripped your jaw, pressing you hard against the tree, your wide eyes meeting his, cheeks flushed purple, drool spilling from your lips. He nearly came at the sight. Quaritch pulled you back against him hard and you gasped, limp in his arms. Brought his arms in front of you, his right hand covered in your slick, his pointer finger trailing your lower lip and your tongue snuck out to taste. But his hand was gone, pulled away with a click of his tongue, head shaking down at you. “You’re so messy. Look at you, such a slut.” He spat the words out and you ached. He heard your heart beat jump and he laughed, bringing his hand to his mouth instead, tongue swirling around his fingers.

Eyes closed, he moaned at the taste. He was starving for it. You tasted so sweet. Truly like a peach. He licked every bit of it off of him as you whimpered at the sight. You tasted like heaven. He needed more, but he knew that wouldn't satisfy what the pollen induced lust was craving, so he shoved you forward again, your shoulder meeting the tree with a wince, pleasure shooting down to your cunt at the roughness.

“Finally fuck me.” You pleaded, ass wiggling back, voice edged in anger, frustration. And he broke. He yanked the rest of his clothes off faster than what should have been possible, bare feet bracing inside of yours as he rubbed himself along your pussy. You were plenty wet and smiled at the feeling. He had been fully hard since he turned around and saw you, since then just pulsing, feeling as his pants tried to stretch to accommodate him.

It was a mild relief. He could give you more of it.

He tapped his head against your clit just to hear you hiss, see hints of your fangs. Moving down he lead himself to your cunt. The slide inside you was immediate, and he swore, tensing every muscle in his body in an effort not to cum immediately. “Oh fuck, Peach.” He tried to think of something else, something other than your perfect fucking pussy clenching around him, tugging him in further like he was meant to fit there inside you near to the hilt forever. You felt like warm silk and he could feel himself get close, all as your hips moved back and forth, still struggling to take him all in. “Don’t.” he rasped.

You stilled, smile falling as you peered back at him, worried he changed his mind, worried you would never get the release you needed for the pollen to leave you.

“If you move, I'll cum.”

But that did not deter you. Actually, it seemed to make you move faster. You pulled off him, nearly hugging the tree until just the sensitive tip of his cock was inside you before sliding all the way back with a roll of your hips that had his hands seizing, his abdomen lurching in pure pleasure. “Fuck sake, stay still, girl.” You clenched around him at the nickname and he chuckled. He saw how it was. Two could play this game. If he would come quick, he would make sure you did it first, as many times as he could wrench from you. And his words always seemed to do the trick.

“Should have known you were a fuckin’ freak. The way you looked at me back then was absolutely filthy, baby. You wanted me even when I was fifty, isn't that right?” The southern drawl sounded so mocking as he thrust into you. It wasn't really a question, but he stilled, waiting for your answer.

“Yes!” You yelled, shame burned your cheeks as he slid his own against yours, leaning forward over you making you moan. He was so nice and deep. You could feel his smirk. But you were rewarded for honesty.

He thrust into you so hard you saw stars before falling into a nice rhythm. Staying slow and hard with his thrusts as he spoke, his sweaty chest plastered to your back as his balls slapped against your clit. In between grunts and gasps, he spoke near your ear, but it was nowhere near a whisper. There was a bigger thrill because he was so loud. Anyone could hear, anyone could see. “Y’would’ve let me use that perfect young cunt any time I wanted, huh? Let me bend you over my desk right before a meeting, fuck you full. Have you leave with my cum’ still drippin’ down all over your pretty legs.” His words and a fast circle to your clit have you cumming again, this time around his cock.

He swore, veins in his neck popping as you bared down on him, squeezing him for all he was worth. His own high closing in as he thrusted harder, slamming deep inside you, brushing something you didn’t even know existed. A gasp falling from your lips, eyes rolling back. He pushed a large hand into the divot of your back to force a deeper arch, your head falling forward as you braced for him. And he fucked into you hard and fast through your orgasm and past that, when you were so sensitive you barely realized that the heat was almost gone, the excess of sweat slowed to nearly nothing but from the exertion Quaritch was putting you through.

“Where do you- damn, “ a huff against your back, “I’m gonna cum, fuck-, where do you want me?” His hips moved as if to pull out of you as he asked, but you let go of the tree with one hand, grabbing the back of his thick thigh, getting half a handful of his ass, pushing him closer to you as you rock back on his cock, rolling your hips, making an effort to grind against his pelvis with fervor.

Head tilted up, fucking begging internally for him to grab your throat, to lean down and kiss you, but you knew he wouldn’t.

Not on the lips. He would never.

“Inside Miles, cum inside me.” And it was you saying those words, your sweet voice breathy and the feel of you around him that did him in. Warmth flooded your core as he fucked up into you, in three hard slow thrusts, the sofest sounds you have ever heard from him escaping his lips as his head fell against your shoulder, shaking against your back, his ragged breaths making your hair stand up as you shivered, grinding back into him in slow circles. And he winced, making a noise that could almost be construed as whining if you were listening.

He was all over you, his scent flooding you, his seed inside you, spilling around his cock and down your legs. His sounds were so sensually sweet and it made your heart ache. He was yours. You would make sure of it. And you felt the heat rise in your body again, undeniable and painful.

When he pulled out, you turned, and in the last burst of a pollen-induced haze you grabbed the back of his neck, bringing his neck to your mouth, your fangs immediately piercing into his skin, tasting blood, marking him. He grunted in surprise, wincing as his arms grabbed your elbows, not pulling you away but holding you all the same. It was a primal thing, an urge you weren't even sure you could have, until you fulfilled it. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, lapping at the blood, delighting in the absolute pained sign-turned-moan that left his open mouth as you sucked at his blood, tearing slightly into his skin to affirm your mark.

A sudden shot of cum shot out across your abdomen as he wrapped your legs around him, his arms firmly around your back. Promptly falling on his ass with the force of his orgasm, moaning as his hips bucked into the air, chasing something that already passed.

You had done that.

The feeling of your fangs piercing his neck, marking him as yours had brought another orgasm right beside his last. Not even a minute later. That would not have been possible for any being other than a na’vi, and at this moment you were grateful for it. His strong arms held you tightly against him, your rapid deep breaths matching his, your ear plastered to his slick chest, the uneven rush of his heartbeat having your lips curl up. You looked up to see his eyes closed, squeezed shut as if in pain, rough hands slowly rubbing circles into your back, tracing the points of bioluminescence there, dewy grass tickling your knees on either side of his hips.

You felt the ache from the rough sex before the soreness in your muscles came over you. A side effect of the way he manhandled you or from the pollen you were not sure. You can't believe you just did that. You were in such shit. But it was not over yet. Both of you refuse to get up, to leave this haven and return to the realm where this is forbidden.

Your palm smoothed up his pec and farther to his neck, landing on the fresh blood there. You looked up, moving slightly off him, taking his jaw gently in your hands. His eyes looked calmer now, but his pupils were still very large as he watched you, breathing hard through his open mouth. You felt his breaths under your left hand on his chest, rising up and down with its force, gazing at his muscled figure, taking in every inch shamelessly. And he looked back at you tentatively, but not guarded.

Trusting.

Your other hand tilted his jaw to one side as you leaned against him, sweaty chests meeting as you felt his breath hitching. You placed a kiss on the bite mark and he flinched.

“I’m so sorry.” You said, voice tired but sincere. He just squeezed your hip, unable to talk. Not now, not like this. He was too vulnerable.

Your pointer finger found the spot you were looking for. The small freckle on his neck to the left side, on the edge of his adam’s apple. Dipping further down, strands of your hair tickling his chest you ever so softly kissed his beauty mark. A whisper of a touch. A loving touch.

Quaritch breathed sharply through his clenched teeth, like he was in pain and your eyes watered.

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling away, hands sliding down his chest to his abdomen where your hips sat. It was such a soft gesture, your lashes fluttering as you met his eyes once more.

It was too much.

“No problem, Ghost.”

You tensed above him, but forced yourself to relax again. Your throat burned with the tears as you pushed up off of him. Still slow and cautious. You didn't want to give too much away. Not anymore.

That use of your alias was deliberate. It was a placement of the iron wall between you once more and although you knew it was coming, expected it even, it still felt like your heart was collapsing, wildly jumping all around your body as pain laced through your every shaky breath. Your jaw clenched tight, leaving him in a pile on the grass. It was hard to angrily walk away after taking a pounding like that, if anything you angrily wobbled away, but still, it was done. You wiped the cum off your body with leaves, and roughly stepped into your clothes. Your braid was undone, brushed with your fingers and redone. No need to keep it down.

You were sure he didn't leave any marks on you anyway. Harshly, you looked back, stopping mid-tie of your combat boot to see him. He was refastening his belt silently, nearly a half yard away and you just stared at his chest, his arms, catching on his tattoo on the left bicep. You never got to kiss it, and that thought nearly killed you. The yearning was a stabbing pain in your chest. It felt like being torn apart.

You noticed the marks, he had plenty to pass him by and you felt almost guilty, at least a little.

How would he explain it all?

But another part of you, the part of you that felt compelled to bite him in the first place grinned, smirking like a Cheshire cat with all the milk in the world at her disposal. It was like you had written ‘mine, mine, mine,’ all over him in the red and blue-black bruises scattered along his abdomen, along his v line dipping into his pants. The scratches on his left thigh, and of course the fucking bite mark on his neck, carved into the perfect blue canvas there from your fangs.

But if he minded it, he didn’t say a thing.

He could heal it at base camp easily with a nice blue gel, with no scars involved. You knew he would, but wished he wouldn't.

He didn't even acknowledge it as he walked into the set-up camp an hour later with you in tow. Did not even make to explain both of your absences. He wouldn’t. He didn’t need to. They knew.

You looked more put together than the Colonel, and that was the most obvious tell of what had happened. No one was more put together than him. It was like the man was born a military man, created from strict order and perfection.

Besides that there was the fact that you reeked of each other. No one could tell which scent was who’s, or even tell who you were by scent alone anymore. Then if they somehow missed that, the ripped shirt sleeve on your left side and the missed belt loop on Quaritch’s right hip was a good clue. Along with the uneven gait from you as you walked up the hill beside him to meet them, gun slung over your shoulder.

But the best clue- the one that did them all in, it had to be the fucking bite mark.

No, the declaration of property,

plastered on the left side of their colonel’s neck.

******

bonus:

It was five hours since they landed back at base and all the recoms were playing cards in the deserted cafeteria, all eerily silent.

Lyle could feel the tension in the air ever since you and Quaritch separated like the sea when Bridgehead came into view. You go to the showers probably and Quaritch heads off to explain himself to general Ardmore, looking only slightly more presentable than yesterday.

They all wordlessly looked at each other before Lopez spoke up, the sound of the helicopter still ringing in their sensitive ears.

“So… cards, anyone?” Lopez asked. Everyone immediately agreed, a series of frantic nods and a chorus of affirmation as they all moved to the cafeteria.

They didn’t even bother changing, showering, eating, just walked to the cafeteria jostling each other, sharing tidbits from the mission in small laughs, but they never dared to speak about you. Or at least not what they were all actually thinking about in terms of you.

“Did you see the way she jumped in front of Quaritch with the-“

“-yeah. Just like old times. Stepping in front of shit, for that old goat.” Prager laughed, shaking his head roughly, disbelieving. He never understood that. He never would.

“The way the fucking thing kicked her off a cliff and she like got up, like she was fine??” Lyle exclaimed with a scoff, hands motioning in front of him wildly.

“Yeah that’s Ghost, alright.” She huffed a small laugh. “Y’know, i’ve never seen the Colonel throw himself in danger for anyone. But he cleared that fucking hill immediately after she fell.” Z-dog sounded almost awed as she finished speaking, still chewing her gum that had long since gone flavourless.

They all nodded, silence falling again. Mansk pulled a very serious face as if he was thinking hard enough to hurt before he spoke. “It’s because he never has.”

They all turned to look at him, stilling as memories washed over them. It was always Colonel and Ghost. Always. The clatter of the dining hall got so loud as they were awash in melancholy. He was right.

They took off their gear and rounded the benches, the cards came out and it was dead quiet once again, but the tension was thick. Hard to breathe. The only sound was cards shuffling, the rhythmic pop of Z-dogs gum, and Prager’s huffs whenever he lost (which was always). It was enough for Lyle to finally break after two rounds. “So we all agreed they fucked each other, right?” His voice not even close to a whisper.

“YES!” The group yelled, in unison again.

Relief went through them so fast, like a huge wave that crashed over and through them, their tired shoulders hunching forward like a weight fell off of them. And excitement rushed in to take the tension’s place.

“I knew it!-”

“I called it!” Z dog laughed, “Pay up you leeches!” Her hands spread out, cards falling to the metal table as she made a mock grab for Prager’s pockets. He only snorted, batting her away with a soft ‘fuck off, z-dog.’

They all laughed, feeling the buzz return to them, the camaraderie. “I just can’t believe it. I thought she’d never do it.” Lyle laughed, almost a sense of pride in his tone.

Lopez snorted. “Why not? He's always wanted her.” Nods all around the table.

“Yeah, they just both would never admit it.” A chorus of agreement once again, but the silence dipped into their group again. An unspoken thing still hanging over them.

“So… what changed?”

No one had an answer. They were shocked seeing you guys trudge back up that hill an hour after Quaritch told them to set up camp. After they realized you had fucked the hell out of each other. But for some reason it seemed so normal. Natural. The tension had to break at some point. Everything gives in eventually. And they had been waiting for you two to break for years. It took two lifetimes.

They didn’t want an answer. Not really. None of them would ever talk of it outside the group. They were not snitches and they cared for both of you far too much to even think of it anyways.

They just hoped you two fucking didn't make your relationship worse, or even more complicated than it was naturally.

But perhaps it already had…

*******

a.n: if you made it this far: I am impressed! I have had this idea since the first week of January and finally getting it out was great! I read it too much to like it, or tell if it’s even good lol. But lmk what you think, or if you want a pt.2 👀 cause I’m thinking about it tbhhhh

#quaritch fanfic #miles quaritch #miles x reader #miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #recom quaritch fic #avatar fic #avatar x reader fic #avatar James cameron #quaritch x reader smut #avatar smut #filthy #nasty #fr

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goblinratman101 · 1 year

Note

back with another request for you <33

feel free to pick whoever you want for this one :)

haikyuu boys (or girls) with a partner who’s socially anxious or shy, like “terrified of asking for help because they don’t want to seem stupid” level

their partner is trying to find them after a tournament but some people from a rival school spots them and starts hitting on them, how would the boys/girls react?

| This is me fr fr. Sorry if it isn't exactly what you asked for |

| characters: Kyotani Kentaro, Yamamoto Akane, Akaashi Keiji, Miya Osamu, Aone Takanobu |

| Genre: Fluff |

Kyotani Kentaro

Let me start by saying Kyotani thought you were a spineless pushover when you two first met

He didn’t really like you is all I’m saying

Until one day he saw you feeding the stray dog he usually feeds

And instead of cowering in fear and running away like he thought you would do when you saw him

You smiled and waved him over saying he should come look at the cute pupper

And that was it for him you being too cute sent him into puppy love this is your fault! 😡

This boy is so protective I swear

If he thinks anyone is looking at you too long for his liking then he about to beat their ass

God forbid anyone that teases you about being too shy you have scary dog privileges use it

Now Aoba Johsai were going to a match so as the supportive partner you were you of course went to cheer your boyfriend on

Kyotani was currently taking a break while you were talking with him and he looked away for a second and you were suddenly swept away in the crowd

Kyotani = PANIC MODE!!!

The crowd was pushing you until you found a way out

Now to the real problem, where the hell were you

You didn’t have your phone on you since you left it in your bag that was sitting with Kyotani so you couldn’t call him

And your crippling social anxiety was ever present so asking someone for directions was out of the question

That was until someone had come up to you

'Are you lost? Why don't you come and watch me play. You're pretty cute'

Your anxiety has skyrocketed

‘Oh, n-no I’m fine’

You spoke trying to get this guy away while also trying to spot Kyotani in the crowd since he was probably tearing the place up looking for you

‘Are you sure I don’t bite’

He spoke leaning closer to you while trapping you against the wall right behind you

‘I do’

Looking towards the voice you saw your very angry boyfriend

‘Taro!’

You yelled out happily while Kentaro tried with all his might to not blush at such a cute nickname

He’s trying to be intimidating Y/N! Stope being so cute!

He then walked up to the guy and grabbed him by the collar

‘You better leave my partner alone or we’ll have a problem’

Kyotani warned as the guy nodded and hastily ran away

Immediately Kyotani looked you over and asked if the guy did anything to you

You shook your head then smiled up at him

‘You looked so cool Taro! Like a knight in shining armour!’

His face erupted into flames as he looked everywhere but you

Why’d you have to be so cute Y/N he can’t think anymore

He would just grab your hand still incredibly embarrassed as he walked back to where your stuff was

Kyotani wouldn’t mind if you got lost again so he could save you like a knight

Yamamoto Akane

Why does no one write for this cutie?! Look at her!

Honestly you two are so different everyone questions your relationship

The both of you are pretty cute

I can totally imagine Akane being super nervous around you

She just thinks your so cute when your shy

Especially if you ask her for help

She will not hesitate to help you with anything social

She’ll be loud enough for the both of you 😌

She has a hair clip and scrunchie collection that she lets you use and even gets the both of you matching hair clips and scrunchies

Onto the actual request tho

Akane is the captain of the cheer squad for Nekoma

Akane wanted you to see how cool the boys volleyball club was she also wanted you to see how cool her older brother was ngl

But with this being the first time going to the volleyball arena that was filled with people you were very nervous

It also didn’t help that your girlfriend had to arrive early to set up the cheer squad and make sure everything was perfect

So Akane was calling you to help you get to the right area where the Nekoma game would be

That was until some guy approached you

‘Hey you’re pretty cute! Do you wanna go out’

You immediately got nervous but was able to tell the guy you weren’t single

‘Really? You’re dating someone? I don’t see them anywhere though’

The guy spoke stepping closer as you also stepped back

‘I-I’m actually busy trying to find the volleyball arena…’

You spoke nervously as you were not mentally prepared to talk to anyone other than Akane her brother and the Nekoma teammates

‘Hey asshole! Get away from Y/N!’

You looked over to see Akane puffed out from running but still standing her ground

‘Who are you ? They’re friend?’

The guy spoke but Akane stomped over to you two and stood in front of you protectively

‘I’m their girlfriend so back off!’

It was honestly funny how Akane was almost half the guys height but still managed to drive him off with her enraged face

‘That’s right you better run!’

Akane yelled as you giggled taking her hand in yours

‘Thanks Akane for saving me there’

You thanked them gave the girl a kiss on her cheek

‘Y-Y-Y-Y/N! You can’t just kiss me so suddenly! Warn me first!’

She exclaimed red in the face then hugged you tightly while hiding her face in your chest

That was until Akane realised you two would almost be late for the game

‘S-Stop distracting me Y/N! We’re gonna be late for the game!’

Akane yelled tightening her grip on your hand as she full on sprinted to the arena as you tried to keep up with your energetic girlfriend

Akashi Keiji

Man dating Akashi Y/N

You’re so lucky, wish it was me

Let me just say Akashi is so understanding of your crippling social anxiety

He would speak up for you if you had a question and if you didn’t get anything in class he would explain it to you himself

This man is so incredibly patient he would wait an entire 15 minutes just for you to ask if you could get help with your homework

He has experience with Bokuto

He would try to help you with your anxiety but would immediately stop if you became uncomfortable or too nervous

But he is friends with Bokuto so you’ll have to get used to his energetic personality

So Fukurodani had just won against Nekoma so you wanted to congratulate Akashi for the win

Until you remember how confusing the layout for the arena was and you were currently lost

Luckily you were able to text Akashi where you were so all you had to do was wait until he arrived

That was until a certain setter came up to you

That’s right

Koganegawa Kanji

Bet you didn’t see that coming

This boy saw you looking real cute and probably got a crush, so of course he ran up to you to talk

‘Hi there! I’m Koganegawa Kanji. I’m a first year setter for Date Tech! Your really cute! What’s your name? Could we go on a date?’

Honestly you couldn’t keep up with what he was saying

Even if you didn’t respond to him he would still talk

You were kind of just awkwardly standing there as a golden retriever in human form was excitedly talking to you

Looking around you tried to find Akashi in the crowd, when you did you immediately called him over with a worried look

You didn’t really think Koganegawa would do anything you were just too socially awkward to say a word to him, and you were just overwhelmed with all this excitement on you that you were basically on the verge of a panic attack

Akashi immediately seeing this quickly walked over to the both of you and standing in front of you, then grabbed your hand and just dragged you away from Koganegawa

Akashi knew you were overwhelmed so he decided the best option was to take you away from the situation so you could calm down

‘Your ok now Y/N. I saw this ice cream stand on my way here, do you want to get some?’

Miya Osamu

I’m pretty sure Osamu wouldn’t really understand why you were so anxious all the time

He just didn’t really get it probably still doesn’t get it but he’ll try his best to help you!

Osamu is definitely in love with you though

I 100% believe this man would fall in love so hard, especially if you encourage him with his cooking dream and tell him he would be a wonderful chef

This boy would spoil you with so much food, you literally don’t have to buy food

He absolutely adores you and is extremely protective of you for how anxious you can get

Lets say you were hanging out with Osamu before the game started and noticed his water bottle was getting empty so you offered to refill it

Osamu would say he can do it but Atsumu got involved so a fight was bound to happen between the two, so you just decided to refill his water bottle and get back before he noticed

Now while the game was almost going to start you would assume that outside the arena would be very empty…

You assumed wrong…

Many stalls were around for merchandise as well as many people walking around the place, which honestly put you on edge with how many people were here

But you were on a mission to refill Osamu’s water bottle and you would not let him down! So after hyping yourself up you walked into the crowd and immediately regretted your decision

You were at least able to avoid people enough to refill the bottle but as you were making your way back you accidentally bumped into someone

A certain stingy germ fanatic

‘I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to bump into you! Here take some of my wipes, again I’m super sorry!’

You apologise bringing out your cleaning wipes and offering the packet, your hands would always be really clammy and sweaty from your anxiety that you now carry cleaning wipes to clean your hands

Now Sakusa seeing such a cutie worry over him and offer him some cleaning wipes he was totally blushing under his mask

‘T-Thank you… are you a volleyball player or manager? Do you hate germs? What school do you go to?’

Sakusa was asking so many questions he was just a nervous baby who thought you looked really cute

With so many questions you got a bit nervous but you managed to answer them all until you brought up you came to watch Inarizaki

‘Oh, so are you an Atsumu fan?’

Sakusa asked but you could tell he was upset when talking about the Miya

‘No, Atsumu is more… how do I say this nicely… Atsumu is a bit too loud for my taste, I prefer quite people like his brother Osamu!’

You spoke happy you were able to say a complete sentence without stuttering

At your words Sakusa lit up, you prefer quite guys! That’s perfect if he hadn’t of bumped into you he would probably be brooding in a corner quietly right now!

But before anything could happen Osamu was here to the rescue

‘Y/N! There you are, the match is gonna start soon’

While saying this with the most calm voice ever and glaring daggers at Sakusa

The both of them kind of had a stare off until you had to walk away and drag Osamu with you, the both of them continued to stare until they lost sight of each other

As soon as Osamu lost sight of Sakusa he quickly turned to you

'Y/N! I don't want you talking to other guys! You're too cute for your own good! I'll have to fight off every guy that looks at you!'

Even though Osamu said this he was fine with it as it was a way he could protect you and show everyone his yours and your his

Aone Takanobu

I feel like Aone can relate to you on this

Not so much the anxiety part

But he is 100% ready to sit quietly with you

Quite café or study dates are his favourite especially if you become more comfortable with him and get more loud and carefree

He would definitely intimidate anyone being rude to you, probably just stands behind you while glaring at the person

Aone would be your silent cheerleader

You were able to ask a question in class, you receive so many head pats

You talk on the phone with someone, boy Is very proud

Able to order lunch by yourself, Aone will pay and give you more food you deserve it ☺️

Now we all know Aone is basically a teddy bear, but when it comes to you bro is so protective

He just loves you so much and hates to see you stressed or uncomfortable

would literally stare someone down if they complimented you with ulterior motives or stared at you for too long

which is why he suddenly got so angry when he saw two guys caging you between the wall and themselves

He walked as quick as he could with his long ass legs to stand behind the two guys

Once the both of them noticed Aone's shadow towering over them they turned and saw the scariest glare they had ever seen

Of course the two guys ran away almost pissing themselves

You immediately wrapped Aone in a hug as you looked up to him

'Thank you so much Aone, no matter what I said those two wouldn't get the hint and leave!'

Your cheeks had squished up against Aone, after seeing this he lifted his hands and began to play with your round cheeks as he wore a smile

#haikyuu #hq kyotani #kyotani kentaro #kyotani x reader #yamamoto akane #akane x reader #akashi keiji #akashi x reader #miya osamu #osamu x reader #aone takanobu #aone x reader

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nyx-v1 · 1 year

Text

TWST boys at your funeral Headcannons tw-mentions of deaths and funerals

[Heartslabyul],[Savanaclaw], [Octavinelle]

a/n-might be a little ooc

Riddle

Planned to whole thing, from the flowers, to what kind of clothes you would be wearing.(it’s not weird I promise)

Insists that you are buried on campus.

Stands by the casket the whole time, he also give the eulogy. The eulogy was surprisingly heartfelt.

Riddle also makes a point to not cremate, or anything that like that. He wants to make sure that if there's a way to send you back home it's in one piece even if you're dead.

takes no disrespect towards you at all, any students who say anything get collared (for like a week before trey tells him it’s been long enough.)

Deals with everything after the funeral too

Riddle personally cleans your grave every week, and if he doesn't have to time he sends other students to do it.

Doesn't know how to grieve so he just takes on a lot of extra work. Basically he spends his life now studying, working, and then sleeping.

Overall 10/10- he makes sure Crowley doesn’t put you in an unmarked grave.

Bonus: What kind of flower they would leave you+ what they would say

Pink carnation, meaning- I'll never forget you.

"Please forgive me for not being there perfect, thank you for all you've done."

Trey

Helps Riddle organize everything

Makes sure all students are well behaved

The one who says they should have grim in their dorm

Makes sure to regular check up on everyone else in his dorm, especially the Adeuce duo.

Trey makes the food, if there is a need for food.

His way of grieving is by taking care of everyone else, ignoring his own needs.

10/10

Bonus: What kind of flower they would leave you+ what they would say

Rosemary- remembrance

"Sorry, it has to end this way.”

Cater

makes sure to backup all photos of you he has, picks the best photo of you for the funeral.

Surprisingly does not take photo during the funeral at all in fact he's off social media for like 2 weeks, before he decides to look at it

Before he takes the break he makes one last post dedicated to you.

Doesn't talk about what happened, in fact he goes out of his way avoid the convo about how he feels

during the funeral he makes sure to dress apparently, he is also super quite when talking

After like a week he's pretending to be over your death

What kind of flower they would give you+ What they would says

A pink rose- thank you

Ace

tbh would probably be in denial for a while, that or he gets extra annoying no in between

Has to be dragged to the funeral by riddle

Yells at crowley for your death, then gets lectured by riddle

oddly quite during the whole things

leaves right after the ceremony is done, Ace goes right to ramshackle after he leaves.

Straight up refuses to go to your grave, and to talk about you

Ace does grieve tho he does this by spending all his free time in ramshackle, more specifically your room

5/10

Bonus: What kind of flower they would leave you+ what they would say for a final goodbye

dark crimson Rose - mourning

Won't say anything instead he gently place the flower down, before taking once last glance then walking out.

Deuce

offers his and aces room for grim to stay in

takes 2 hours getting ready. Has also never been to a funeral before

Offers to help with anything, because he's not the best academically he decides to help set the venue up

Deuce is on his BEST behavior during the whole thing, he remains quite and by Grims side

Cries a lot, but denies it

During the whole thing he's super emotional, and when ace goes off he can't help but agree

Wants to fight Crowley but doesn't bc he doesn't want to disrespect you like that

overall

11/10 give him a hug

Bonus: What kind of flower they would leave you+ what they would say

Statice- I miss you, compassion, remembrance

"I might not be good with words, but thanks [name]."

#twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twsited wonderland x reader #angst #twst angst #x reader

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mazdoe · 2 years

Text

When you Cry.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem! Reader

Summary: Wednesday is trying her best to comfort their Girlfriend through a panic attack.

Warning: Non just Fluff really. Possessive and protective Wednesday if you squint.

Notes: I aged up Wednesday to 18/19. Also English is not my first language.

"I didn't know where else to go" you whispered, noticing how Wednesday is avoiding you since you stormed into her room. You can't blame her tho, after all you just interrupted her writing time. But tears are still rolling down your Face leaving tiny wet spots on your Uniform. As you curled up in her Bed knees pressing almost painfully into your chest.

"speak now!" Finally facing you Wednesday's usually oh so emotionless Face drops as she analyzes your tears. "You are crying" she states, stiffing up in her chair, not moving a muscle. Already over stimulated to the max you turn to face her knowing she is not going to ask what any further questions " Today in Fencing, I..I took a wrong step I think. I don't know what exactly but as soon as the teacher left for just a second Xavier started yelling at me. And humiliating me in front of everyone. I Ii didn't know what to do so I came here" She nodded, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder.

Wednesday's mind is running in circles, how could he do that to y/n he knows how much she means to her. In fact he was one of the first people she confessed her love for y/n too. He should know better than making her angry by hurting you. She swallows down her anger in an attempt to give you what you need the most right now. Comfort. Oh how she hated that word, sounds weak. But she knows you need it. So she lets her Hand wander down your arm giving it a light squeeze before letting to entirely. Appearing right behind you and gently wrapping her Arms around your waist, pushing you into her lap, resting her Head oh so lightly on yours and pressing a soft Kiss onto your hair.

Her arms tightened around you with every light sob and sniffel. You could tell she is trying her absolute best to give you all the Comfort she was able to unleash right now. Turning around in her lap you reach out to cup her face, gently caressing her cheek with your thumb. Giving her the most generous smile you could offer. "Can I kiss you?" You can feel the heat crawling up your face, as Wednesday leans in closer connecting your foreheads. "Yes" you mumble, it's a surprise she even heard it. But her soft lips on yours confirm that she did. The kiss doesn't last long but was long enough to make the Butterflies resting in your stomach go wild. "Do you feel better know?"

"Yes I do, thank you love" Wednesday's nose scrunches up at the nickname but she lets it slide with the argument that your head must still be foggy from all the crying. "Good, so now we got time to plan the Murder on Xavier" she said a smile caressing her beautiful face as she absentmindedly plays with your hair, immersed into her imagination as you rest your head on her chest drifting of to sleep.

#wednesday × reader #wednesday x you #wednesday × y/n #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams × you #wednesday addams x y/n #wednesday addams #wednesday

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rzyraffek · 1 year

Note

Oh, oh! I got one!

okay okay, so, don’t feel pressured to write this if you do t want to, but what about slashers (Vincent Sinclair, Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, anyone else you wanna add) with a s/o who gets really distracted? Like, in the middle of doing something that should be simple, they zone out and forget what they were doing. (I have really bad ADHD so that’s why I’m asking-)

like, they even have to remind their s/o to take medicine and just nudges to get them back on track-

idk, do what you will with that idea, and again, thank u for ur time!!

btw, u look amazing today!!

You too look amazing today! Thanks for request! Why is everyone so spooked of requesting, the worst thing I can do is not answer🥰

Slashers with s/o that gets distracted A LOT

Sinclair Vincent

Imagine, s/o is in Vince workplace first time, he probably wants to turn them into wax figure, he leaves room for one second to grab some tools. Boom s/o is just walking around judging his wax figurines

Mans gonna be like 🧍in corridor when they are just amused by how cute and pretty some of those lil figurines are🥰

After they get along, Vince really enjoys slow walks thrue gallery or just near area, cuz its very pretty and there's no Bo screaming like child

He saw some pretty leaves, he went to pick them up so he can show them to s/o. He turn around... where.. where are they??!?!? Huuh did they leave him?? Dude will be overthinking hard. But after few minutes of looking for them, they just kinda spawn behind him "hey vince look i found this cool as rocks and then I saw deer's and I kinda fallowed them to this dope river come see!"they just grab his hand and lead him :(tbh vince was this close to mental break down, now he always holds hands

Myers Micheal

My dude is about to buy one of those backpack leashes that some parents have. He's like 80years young, ain't no way he's going to run around city looking for some guy who just saw pretty butterfly and almost got hit by a car 5times.

To be honest they should be ones making sure he won't just walk of and get lost in Forest judging by his age

When he notice that s/o didnt take their daily medicine he just takes it and slams it on desk/table next to them or just throws it at them! Take the pills dummy!

S/o calling him 'heya mickey im lost pick me up' happends twice per week. Really s/o be more careful pls

Voorhees Jason

If you thought that Vincent panicked? Oh this guy will have mental breakdown, cry and then search whole place

In forests signal sucks so they can't call him and screams won't do much cuz echo and Jason is mute so he cant yell back anyways

He won't buy leash but he will hold their hand 24/7 nuh uh you cant go run after those deers, no you can't go swimming we know what happend in 1957

Now he has ptsd and evertime he wakes up and doesn't see s/o in his eyesight he instantly thinks that she's in difrent country or dead

Heelshire Brahms

This dude knows the whole mansion no way he loses them here right?

Jokes on you brahms they are already on the other side of it

Even tho they are in closed space, which is safe and very known to Brahms it doesnt stop his abandment issues and... idk he has a lot of issues tbh. No matter how long he knows s/o he's is 100% sure that they are trying to leave.

He will probably speed run thrue corridors screaming their name and he just stubbles across them just watching paitinings on walls "this you? You were ugly ass baby" "WHERE WERE YOU" "I saw funny rats and i wondered where they have secret cheese hideout" "rats?😰" (its a reference to my old fic where brahms was beaten up by rats and now hes spooked of them)

He has calendar with highlighted date everyday they have to take pills and how many so every morning when s/o wakes up they see his face like few centimetres away from theirs, with aggressive eye contact holding pills "it is time my love" " oh :("

I added brahms cuz hes goofy, have wonderful day person reading this!! And never be spooked to ask for headcanons! We love that

#slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #brahms heelsire #brahms x reader #micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #vincent x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #house of wax #halloween ends #the boy 2016 #brahms the boy #jason vorhees headcanon #jason voorhees #jason vorhees x reader

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mbakuetshurisprincess · 1 year

Text

From My Headphones: Party Tricks

AN: Hey y’all! A while ago I made a post about wanting to write fics based on songs and this is the first fic in that series. They’re gonna be generally quicker reads and just real small cute shit for now. Y’all should fr tho listen to the song, that shit goes hard ngl lol.

Summary: The Queen’s in her own world, would she notice your absence?

Pairing: Shuri x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol think that's it.

Word count: 2,138

Suggested listening: Party Tricks by Äyanna

“Tell me, baby If I left the party would you look for me? Would you wonder where I went? Tell me, baby If I left the party would you look for me? Or would you just keep on Dancing to your own beat.”

Riri’s birthday was a national holiday as far as she was concerned, that’s why she begged and pleaded with you to plan it for her. Before taking a job as a photographer in Wakanda you were a top party planner for you and Riri’s friend group throughout college. You had developed a reputation for being able to throw a banger no matter the budget. When you were all freshmen without a dollar to your name, you managed to make a shitty college apartment look like the hottest club ever. And when you all did finally get some money in your pockets, the parties you were able to plan were things of myths at MIT.

But when you decided to move to Wakanda full time ( Riri splitting half her time between there and the US due to her Iron Heart duties) you gave up the party planning life for a camera and a lens; not regretting the peaceful change one bit. To be honest you hated parties, the loud music, obnoxious drunk people, and just general overwhelmingness left you rarely in attendance at your own parties. That’s why letting it go didn’t bother you that much, if anything it left you with relief knowing it was one less thing you’d have to stress about.

Riri knew this of course when she approached you to plan her twenty-third birthday party, but she also knew after what she, you, and Shuri had been through with Namor you had a hard time saying no to her. That’s how you ended up on a stage in Wakanda’s hottest nightclub that had been themed black and red for Michael Jordan. Dressed in your skimpiest black dress watching Riri blow out her birthday candles in front of everyone. She turned back to face you and extended her arms pulling you into a hug.

“I know this was a lot for you but thank you for all this. You really are the best friend I could ask for Y/N.” Riri squeezed your body tight against hers and you felt the sincerity in her words.

“Of course honey, you deserve it.” You pulled out of the hug and winked at the shorter girl. “Your Jordan year, yeah? Nothing but up from here.”

Riri pulled you in for another hug and you relished the moment grateful you were able to take the time to celebrate your best friend. Other people called her name and you urged her to go continue in the festivities, ensuring that you would be fine on your own till you left. With that you slipped off the stage and beelined towards the bar, needing something to take the edge off the raging headache.

You hopped onto one of the bar stools and ordered an old-fashioned, eyes scanning the room while you waited for your drink. You spotted Shuri easily in the crowd, the silver accents on her suit sparkling underneath the strobe lights. She was dancing like you hadn’t seen her dance before, completely letting loose and yelling out the few words she did know to the American rap music you and Riri had introduced her to. All though she was surrounded by people she looked as if she was in her own world only worried about where the next beat was going to take her body.

The relationship you and Shuri had was hard to describe because there was hardly anything to describe it with. You hadn’t known her for long before you were suddenly kidnapped together and forced to go through traumatic events in both of your lives. You almost died trying to save Queen Ramonda from drowning and your unsuccessfulness meant the death of Shuri’s mother. The attempt left you in a coma for days and it took you a while to feel normal again. Shuri was part of the reason you did though, you two both found unlikely comfort in each other's presence.

It started out slow, she would come and visit you while you were in the hospital and just sit with you while you watched tv. Eventually, when you were released she would meet you in the garden and you would chat while she was on lunch break away from the peering eyes of others. The nighttime meetings were accidental at first, she stumbled across you hanging out on a balcony and was concerned that there was something wrong. When you explained that the quietness of the city at night helped quiet your own mind it prompted Shuri to ask if she could join you.

She found you every other night after that, sitting with you till the wee hours of the morning soaking in your presence. While you said the quietness of the city helped to still your mind, Shuri soon learned that your presence seemed to have the same effect on her. She found herself craving the peace that your energy washed over her and soon she was ready to admit it was a full-blown crush. But what about you? Shuri could never tell if you felt the same electricity when your hands touched or if it warmed your heart as much as it did hers when you shared secret laughs with each other. No. You were too special to her, the last good thing she had left. And Shuri was going to be damned if she let some crush get in the way of your friendship. No matter how strong the crush was.

The music at the party seemed to have increased and the alcohol was doing nothing to help your headache. You reached discreetly into your bra and pulled out a small black case. You popped each of the round circles into your ears before slipping the case back into your bra. Noise-canceling earbuds were a gift from Shuri when she realized how loud noises affected you after the events with Namor. They were a godsend now, allowing you to shut out all of the noise and just watch the partygoers enjoy your event. The brightness of the strobe lights seemed to intensify with the lack of sound and after five minutes you decided it was just best if you called it a night.

You hopped off the bar stool and looked at the dance floor one last time. Riri had made it down finally and she and Shuri were going bar for bar on First Day Out. The sight of Shuri struggling to keep up and Riri rapping with ease almost made you want to stay but an untimely flash of light in your eye had you beelining for the door. You wandered around aimlessly for a while before stumbling on the door to the roof. Perfect.

The roof had a view of the city, unlike the one you had at the palace. This one made you feel like you were immersed in the world, with the soft twinkle of city lights surrounding you from all angles. And the quiet. Once the door shut behind you all of the noise seemed to go with it and you were left with the soft hum of the vibranium trains. It was the best thing you could have asked for at the moment. You found one of the reclining outdoor chairs and sat with your back to the door, outlooking the city and enjoying the silence.

Inside the party, Shuri was questioning if the added respiratory benefits she got from being the Black Panther were anything close to the lungs of steel Riri seemed to have. The Queen had been going back and forth with Riri on all of the classic black party hits for the past twenty minutes. While Riri hadn’t missed a word from Love Sosa all the way to Dreams and Nightmares, Shuri had to pause to catch her breath after the second song.

It was during her pause when she was reflecting that she hadn’t felt this happy and carefree in a while. The only other time she remembered feeling this light was when she was with you. Speaking of you, where had you gone? Shuri knew she saw you at the bar getting a drink but suddenly you were nowhere to be found. The royal scanned the party, relying on her panther vision to see in the darkness of the nightclub. But she came up with nothing. That was when she started to get worried. She knew that you only came to the party because it was Riri’s birthday and that generally large settings like this were not your scene. That coupled with her realizing just how loud this music was and how overwhelming this all could have been sent the Queen into overdrive.

She didn’t wanna alert Riri, especially if it turned out to be nothing and you had just gone to the bathroom. So she elected to slip out of the party, unnoticed hoping to bring you back so she could share in her happiness with you. The Queen started first in the bathrooms but was unsuccessful, she tried the various lounges and VIP rooms all to no avail. You wouldn’t have left without telling her, right? ‘It is not like we’re together’ Shuri told herself. ‘But we’re closer than her leaving without telling me. It would feel wrong.’

Shuri was stumped. She had checked every inch of the building that she could think of and you were nowhere to be found. ‘Maybe you did really go home’ She thought. ‘Maybe I’m reading too much into our relationship.’ Just as she was about to give up and go back into the party an idea popped into her head.

“Griot, where is Y/N?” She spoke into her kimoyo beads.

“Y/N is at the same location you are at night now your majesty. Club Red.” The AI responded.

So you hadn’t left her. “Where specifically is she, Griot? I haven’t been able to locate her.”

“Y/N’s kimoyo beads indicate that she is on the roof, your majesty.”

The roof, of course, that’s where you’d go! “Griot you beautiful AI!” Shuri kissed her kimoyo beads in celebration, a little extra yes but she now knew where her girl was.

“Why thank you my Queen I think I’m quite handsome myself-”

“Hey! can it. I made you.” Shuri cut off Griot’s self-hype as she made her way to the exit for the roof.

Chilling on a roof wasn’t too far off from chilling on a balcony so for you to be out here didn’t surprise Shuri at all. She opened the door and immediately saw you sitting out near the edge. At first, she was tempted not to approach you, it was quiet on the roof and she knew you well enough to know you were probably enjoying it. But selfishly, selfishly Shuri wanted to be in your presence. Light on her feet not wanting to scare you she walked up behind your chair.

“It’s a beautiful night out isn't it my Queen?” You asked when you felt her behind you, you could always feel Shuri. Something became magnetic in the air, like nothing else you’d ever experienced when she was around.

“Mhm,” Shuri said in agreement, walking around the chair so she was now in front of you. “But it’s just as beautiful in there, I know a certain party planner worked very hard to make sure it looked nice.”

An involuntary chuckle fell from your mouth at the Queen’s compliments. “I prefer it out here, you know that I like the quiet.”

Shuri let a beat pass before she looked down at you, noticing how cold you looked in just the black dress. “Are you not cold entle?” Shuri asked.

“Ehh, just a little bit. I’ll take the cold and quiet over the warmth and noise in there any day.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Scoot down,” Shuri commanded.

“What?” You looked up at Shuri confused as to where she was expecting you to go on the lawn chair.

“Just scoot down. For me?”

You gave Shuri another confused look but obeyed her command sliding down the chair and leaving space between your back and the back of the chair. In one motion Shuri positioned herself behind you so that you were sitting comfortably between her legs. While the position was unfamiliar to you both it felt natural, like your bodies melded together in the space they were always meant to be.

“Is this okay?” The Queen asked once you both got situated. You didn’t respond at first but the feeling of your body relaxing into hers was enough to ease her nerves for the time being.

You grabbed her hands which were resting on either of her thighs and wrapped them around your waist. “Stay with me?” You asked, your hands still on hers that rested comfortably on your waist.

“Anything for you.”

Tag List: @shuriszn @sokkasbae25 @verachii @cuddl3s4shur1 @takeyaki @jinnie10101 @letitias-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @beautybyfire @6-noir @mocha-aya @yvxmpire @mysticalmarss @ziayamikaelson @youralphawolf72 @n7cje @inmyheadimobsessed @shurisjournal

#shuri x y/n #shuri x reader #shuri black panther #shuri imagine #shuri udaku #shuri fanfiction #shuri x you #black panther #black panther fanfiction #black panther imagine #black panther fic #black panther fandom #wlw ship #wlw fanfic #wlw blog #jc writes

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pragnificent · 1 month

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Tagged by @tina-mairin-goldstein! Tagging whoever else wants to play.

1.How many fics do you have on AO3?

78.

2. What's your total word count on AO3?

934,933. Wow, maybe I can break a million this year....

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just HANNIBAL right now (and for like the last seven years or so). Been vaguely thinking about picking up a second but nothing has caught my interest strongly enough.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Attachment - 7,592

The Fisherman and the Beast from the Sea - 4,565

Sashimi - 2,807

Hungry Ghost - 1,585

Identically Different - 1,382 <- This is my best series and yall should give it a shot <3

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to, and I enjoy doing so, but sometimes the brainworms win and I don't get stuff done even when I really want to.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Breathless

I don't love this story, but "Hannibal is effectively braindead after the fall, but Will keeps caring for the body and feels that Hannibal is there with him, up until the body dies and Will turns himself in because there isn't any point anymore" probably counts as the most angsty? If you are in the market for a "Hannibal receives a brain injury and he, along with everyone else around him, has to cope with that" story Tina's For Remembrance (Holes in the Floor of the Mind) is a much better pick. And as I continue to think about it, Means of Influence has a pretty angsty ending.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my stories have slightly bittersweet but still mostly happy endings. Part of the thing about that is I think it's really hard to envision a situation where Will is like 100% Happy Happy, his own mind hates him too much and every little scrap of happiness needs to be fought for and then vigilantly guarded. But I put both him and Hannibal through so much that I always want them to be as close to content as they each can be.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have gotten two flavors of Fic Hate. 1.) People calling the five year old kid OC in ATTACHMENT slurs like "r*tard" and saying "he belongs in jail" and etc.

Every time Hannibal or Will fuck someone who isn't each other at least one person decides to Yell At Me.

I think I've gotten the old "you didn't tag for bottom Hannibal!!" nonsense once or twice too, but who hasn't?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

A little. I actually started Hannishark bc I was really intimidated by sex scenes and wanted to see if I could pull off a short monsterfucker story. I feel like I've gotten better at writing these but am generally more comfortable leaving them sparce on anatomical details and big on feelings/conversations.

10. Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one?

I've got a WRONG TURN crossover series that I'm very proud of here: Bear Mountain Road AU. You don't need to have seen any of the movies to read it, or anything, the movies' premise of "a clan of inbred mountain cannibals waylays travelers" is really just an excuse to put Hannibal (and Will and D, as child members of the cannibal family) In Situations. If I counts as a cross over, I've got a universe swap between the novels and NBC HANNIBAL here: Shiloh

I also have a vague idea for a SAW / HANNIBAL crossover but I've been sitting on that for so long, who knows if it'll ever happen?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not so far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several times.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yep, a couple of times.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Hannigram and Reba/D (guys we need a fuckin ship name).

15. What are your writing strengths?

Character, emotions, dialogue.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sex scenes, pacing.

17. Thoughts writing dialogue in another language?

Fine by me, tho I only think I've done it one or twice.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

FARSCAPE.

19. Favorite fic you've written?

Identically Different AU !!!! This it the best thing I've ever written and probably the best thing I will ever write.

#hannibal #hannigram #francis dolarhyde #prag's fic #reba mcclane

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nburkhardt · 1 year

Text

Other parts: One, Two, Three

Eddie Munson is determined and he has a plan. It’s very much thrown together and involves a lot of yelling on his part towards a certain teenager. But he has a plan, maybe.

At least, he has the start of a plan.

After leaving Steve’s house, which took a lot to physically do. He might’ve lingered a little too long in their hug, squeezed a little too tight. Repeated promises and made a new one to be with him the next day.

When he closed the front door behind himself, he had to fight himself to move forward. It took a while to talk himself out of just turning back around and grabbing Steve, to take him away from his house, to get a head start on those promises.

There’s a little tiny idea in the back of his head that maybe someday he won’t have to leave Steve’s side at all. That promise of forever lingering in that idea, sparking up in hope with how Steve held on to him.

Maybe Steve wants the same just as much as him.

For now, he’ll be a good friend that’s starting to lean into being overprotective. Maybe a little clingy on top of that, he did notice the way Steve relaxed faster when they were touching.

After pacing in his room, muttering bits of pieces of his plan to get it together, he finally decided to get some sleep and it wasn’t much at that. His overactive brain keeping him from fully relaxing, too focused on Steve and how exactly he’ll help. Not just with words; the promises. Those he’s already good at. It’s the actions part that has him baffled and thinking it over and over.

Actions has always been rough for him, he's the story teller; can come up with things off the top of his head. It's always been easier for him to speak things out. Running is his thing, granted the most recent he ran; it landed him in a hospital bed for a while. But it also lead him to this moment too, so maybe it wasn't all that bad.

There’s another thing of if he should tell their friends or if he should keep it to himself. He doesn’t want to break Steve’s trust. Doesn’t want to share something that isn’t his secret to tell, doesn’t want to push Steve to saying it either.

He knows what it’s like for someone to break your trust. Knows how it feels when someone gets to know your insecurities and how some people, even friends, can just take it and hurt you the most.

Though there’s always other ways to help them figure it out before he goes on with his plan.

So, how does one hint something to some of the smartest people he knows?

----

hopefully it's up to everyone's exceptions. 🙈

hey, you know the thing about unreliable narrators? yeah that would be me. not eddie tho, he was going somewhere with his line of thinking. also i realized half way into writing this that i never actually planned out eddie's plan fully like at all 🫠. so we'll come back to that next time.

just know our boy (eddie) is so stubborn.

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Part Five

#steddie #steddie fic #Eddie Munson #stranger things fic #Steve Harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fic #desperate prayers of a cursed man fic #Eddie has an overactive brain it’s why he’s so good with stories #now I gotta learn how to write The Party so fun times for meeee #nburkhardt writes

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