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#I don't know. like if he can turn it on someone else that means /he/ is finally beyond the reach of someone doing it to him
rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
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followed (part one)
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words: 1.2k
warnings: stalker (not rafe), violence, rafe beats someone up but the guy is a creep
followed (part one) / accused (part two)
“hey.” you whisper, ducking under the man's outstretched arm as he looks at the various snacks on the shelf. “pretend you know me, please. i'm being followed.”
rafe doesn't really question it, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and smiling down at you, just as a man turns down the aisle. 
“there you are, baby!” you put on a big smile, eyes still wide, telling the truth of your feelings as rafe can see how nervous you are. “been looking all over the store for you!”
rafe can see the guy, overdressed in lots of layers of jackets, physically deflates when he sees you're no longer alone and defenseless.
“sorry, babe. i got caught up with the snacks.” rafe laughs, grabbing a random bag off the shelf and dropping it into his basket. 
“its okay.” you shake your head. “just happy we're back together.”
rafe keeps you close to him, arm wrapped around your shoulder as the man moves away. you let out a sigh of relief, head tipping forward to rest against rafes chest.
“thank you.” you say before straightening up and taking a step back.
“no problem.” rafe could tell how pretty you were from the moment he saw you, but now that you're not riddled with nerves, he can see that you're gorgeous. he shifts the basket to his other hand as he reaches out. “im rafe.”
“y/n.” you shake his hand, palm still slightly sweaty.
“let me stick with you while you shop, yeah? just in case he comes back.”
“oh my god, i would really appreciate that.” you lay a hand over your chest. “i dropped my basket a couple aisles back when he turned down the same row.”
rafe follows you, keeping his head on a swivel. he knows he can take the guy, he looked on the older side from the brief glance rafe had at him, but that doesn't mean he wants to get surprise attacked.
“i don't have much more that i need to grab.” you explain to rafe, walking just a step in front of him, causing you to turn down the aisle first.
you gasp and back up into rafe when you realize the same man is now hovering over your basket, waiting on you to return to it.
“i got you.” rafe whispers, dropping his basket, causing it to clatter against the floor. the man glares and doesn't back off like rafe was hoping he would.
“back away from my girls shit.” he growls out, dropping his voice. 
“oh yeah, what are you gonna do? beat me up and then get arrested? there's cameras everywhere.” the man says, taking a step forward.
rafe is quick to reposition himself to stand in front of you. “and then those same cameras will see you following my girlfriend all over the store. get out before i beat your ass.”
the man looks rafe up and down before rushing away, hopefully finally actually leaving.
“shit.” you let out a whine, causing rafe to quickly whip around to face you, seeing tears welling up in your eyes.
“hey, you're safe now.” rafe says, placing his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them. when the tears break loose and slide down your cheeks, he pulls you forward into his chest, allowing you to sniffle until you've got yourself under control.
“sorry.” you laugh awkwardly, wiping away the tears before realize you'd left most of them as a stain on rafes shirt.
“it's okay.” he says. “men who mess with women and kids are the worst.”
you nod in agreement. “i don't know how to thank you…”
“you can thank me by not wasting your tears on that creep, alright?”
you nod as rafe grabs your basket, not handing it to you as he picks up his own. “what else do you need to get?” he asks.
“um, just some snacks.” you follow rafe as he confidently walks through the store.
you finish your shopping together before heading to the checkout. rafe doesn't even let you argue as he pays for what you have in your basket, a little shocked by how much he makeup costs, but he knows it won't dent his bank account.
“shouldn't i have paid for you since you helped me?” you ask as you walk out of the store, glad that the parking lot is lit up with street lights, as the sun has set.
“nah.” rafe just smiles at you. “now where's your car? wanna make sure you get in safe.”
you lead him towards your jeep, watching his muscled arms as he puts your couple bags into the trunk.
“thanks so much. i… i don't even want to think about what would have happened to be if you weren't there.” you take a deep breath.
“hey, don't worry about it.” rafe watches you climb into your car, giving him a small wave before taking off. rafe watches you leave, turning out onto the street before walking to his car. 
hes about to pull out of his parking spot himself when he sees a beat up sedan sat in the darkest spot of the lot, right under a burnt out light. rafe squints into the darkness, letting out a growl when his suspicions are right. 
he leaves his car, not bothering to sneak as he walks up and taps on the window. the man is disgruntled but rolls it down.
“there's cameras in the parking lot too.” he says.
“yeah, but it's pretty dark right here.” rafe looks around before reaching into the open window, holding the man by the collar while his other fist pummels into him, hitting his face over and over until it's a bloody, bruised mess.
“that'll teach you to never mess with poor defenseless women ever again, fucking creep.” rafe isn't finished yet though as he spits onto the man, taking the keys out of the car and tossing them away, leaving the man to have so scrounge on the ground for them later.
“shit.” rafe turns around to see your car is back in the parking lot, your eyes wide as you watch him from the drivers seat.
rafe wipes the blood off his knuckles onto the guys shirt before walking over to your jeep.
“im sorry you had to see that.” rafe says as you step out, piece of paper in hand.
“it… its okay.” you shake your head. “im glad you did that.” you're not one for violence, but the creep had it coming.
“are you okay?” rafe asks, not sure why you came back, but he's glad to see you again.
you stick your hand out, giving the paper to rafe. “came back to give you my number. can't believe i left without doing that.”
“ah.” rafe smirks. “seeing me beat up that guy didn't make you change your mind?” he sticks the paper into his pocket, knowing he's going to pull it out the second you're gone to save it to his phone then memorize the digits.
“not at all.” you admit, looking down at your feet. “if anything, it makes me like you more.”
“dinner this friday?” rafe doesn't want to wait to plan out your date, needing to know before letting you go when he will see you again.
“that's too far away. how about tomorrow?” 
rafe is surprised how forward you are, but grateful for it as he nods. “ill text you.”
“ill be waiting.”
sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie
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polly-pocket13 · 2 days
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Give me a chance to show you how beautiful you are
bakugou katsuki x fem!chubby!reader 
tw: weight, self-doubt, self-hate, eating disorder, cursing, acne, bad english and bad grammar
a/n: just a friendly reminder that you are enough and beautiful just the way you are.
You are standing in front of your mirror and looking at yourself. 
You sighed. 
Your skin is getting worse again.
You gained weight.
Your tights are too thick.
Your belly is too chubby.
Your arms to giggly.
Slowly, your eyes started to tear up.
Why couldn't you be like the other pretty girls?
Those girls with the flat stomachs and clear skin. 
Those girls with beautiful tights and slim arms. 
Those girls who always look and act like a real lady.
Those girls who always seem perfect.
The next day, you started eating less and exercising more.
You began to isolate yourself from others and feel more and more ashamed about yourself.
Like right now, you were in your room again and stood before your mirror and looked at your imperfect body.
“Y/N? Is everything okay?” you suddenly heard Bakugous voice behind you.
You didn't even notice that he knocked or entered your room.
“Bakugou, what are you doing here? Of course, everything is alright.” you told him and forced yourself to smile.
“Y/N, stop fucking lying to me. I can see that something is wrong, and I can see how, you force yourself to smile. I have known you long enough, to recognize a real smile.” he grumbled.
“I don't know what you mean.” you said to him.
“Don't play dumb, Y/N. Please tell me what is wrong.” he spoke to you.
“I am fine.” you lied again. 
You weren't fine at all. 
“Fine? You look to me like the absolute opposite of fine.” he said to you angrily.
You were overwhelmed with emotions.
You slowly started to speak, “Can't you see? I am the problem. How I look. How I act. Everything about me is just imperfect.”
You started to cry again.
“Who the hell told you such a bullshit. Tell me so I can break his nose.” he told you aggressive.
You replied quietly, “Kacchan, just forget it.”
“You don't want me to know? Well, then I will find out myself. It can't be that fucking hard to find an asshole without eyes.” he slightly shouted and wanted to leave your room.
“It was me, okay! I tell my self everyday I am not enough! So if you want to break someone's nose, feel free to break mine.” you said to him. 
He immediately turned himself to you. A second later, you could feel his arms wrapped around you.
Now, you started to cry even more.
He pulled you closer to him.
He whispered in your ear, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life.” 
“You only say it because we are friends and I am crying. You don't mean it.” you mumbled.
“Tsk, stupid gorgeous Woman. Why don't you believe me? I would not fall in love with you if you were not the most perfect human being in the world,”
he started tell you.
“I wished you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you would see that you are perfect from the bottom to the top. 
You would see how your eyes sparkle, when you talk about something you love. How you smile makes everyone else smile too.  How you just make everyone else to a better person, especially me. You would see how all stare at you if you dress up in your pretty dresses.  Damn it, Y/N yo drive me crazy every day. Your curves, your beautiful thighs, your soft belly. Just fucking everything.” he ends his “speech”.
You were shocked. You just stared at him for a moment.
“You like me? Like, really like me.” you asked him. 
“Typical Y/N. I told you lots of other important things and you just remembered one. Yes, I like you. Like, really like you.” he answered you. 
“I think I like you too, but I can't see myself through your eyes. I am just imperfect for me.” you told him.
“Give me a chance to show you how beautiful you are. Okay?” he asked you. 
“Okay.” you answered. 
Since that day, he has been proving to you every day how beautiful you are to him. 
And you slowly start to believe him and love yourself as you should because you are truly beautiful just the way you are. 
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bymarara · 2 days
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Will and the Boys Don't Cry.
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Remember the picture when we were first shown Will on his birthday? In case anyone hasn't noticed, there were headphones in the picture and let's think, who else was wearing headphones and under what circumstances? Uh, Max! Max wore them so that she wouldn't fall under the full influence of Vecna and become his victim, music helped her so called survival.
Now let's get to why Will carries them around. I have two suggestions.
Everyone on the team has headphones now just in case Vecna decides to face someone.
Will is scared. Will himself realizes that he can feel Vecna's presence, in addition he will probably hear him, his voice and his thoughts, which will be very frightening to Byers. Because of the fear, he may choose his favorite song and walk around with headphones on at all times, so that if anything happens, he won't be influenced by Vekna and Vekna won't take over Will's mind. I also think that there will be a similar situation as with Lumax, that Mike will have to turn on these headphones in case of anything, I think Will will warn him alone about it all, thus trusting Mike.
Now something I've been thinking about very, very hard. Most people, and I think or thought that Will's song would be “Should I Stay or Should I Go”, but if you notice the details, you can see the poster in Will's room! “Boys don't cry”, this song references Will in a lot of ways, and if it's in season 5 in his headphones, it will be very symbolic, and will show the meaning of everything we've seen.
Let's take Max as an example. She has “Running Up That Hill” in her headphones. The lines from the song literally refer to what Max is feeling and it also shows how she feels about Billy and how she regrets what happened at the end of season 3 and how she would take it all back. The chorus from her song, literally speaks to Max's morale and what she wants. -And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building. If I only could, oh These lines literally refer to the fact that if Max had known what would happen, she would not have stood still, but would have tried to help her half-brother. She would have been ready even for the same death as her brother, as long as he did not die. Also, there are very interesting lines like.
“You don't want to hurt me,but see how deep the bullet lies.” which refers to their relationship while Billy was alive. The guy hurt his sister, which she hasn't forgotten, and that deep down inside of her, she wished him dead inside of her, which she now regrets.
What about Will? I know most people have already figured this out, but for those who haven't and don't know the context - this song is about the inner thoughts that guys have when they're going through an unpleasant/transitional moment in their lives. It's also popular in the LGBT+ community. Let's go through the parts that I find most interesting and start from the beginning. -I would say I'm sorry, If I thought that it would change your mind. But I know that this time, I have said too much. Somehow it reminds me a lot of Will helping Mike with his relationship with Al, while ignoring his feelings and even confessing his feelings while hiding under his sisters name. Also, I think there's a season five reference here. I mean, Will could talk about the painting and the speech, but not say what he meant about his feelings! And the lines “I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind.” show that Mike could have left with some anger and it left a mark on Will and that he can't even apologize now, and that apologizing won't change anything. (Yes, I know I sound creepy, please.) Now let's get to the chorus. -I tried to laugh about it,
Cover it all up with lies. I tried to laugh about it, Hiding the tears in my eyes. Cause boys don't cry. Boys don't cry. Sounds like Will's confession to Mike to me. He's not showing his real feelings, he's hiding everything under the “Al” mask. and underneath the mask, he keeps his feelings hidden, not showing them. He himself, quietly crying, quietly suffering, realizing for himself that his feelings will never be reciprocated, that he will have to live with it and come to terms with it, and he buries it all by himself and tries to cope with it all by himself. -I would tell you, That I loved you, If I thought that you would stay. But I know that it's no use, That you've already, Gone away… Again he says that he has buried all his hopes and feelings, he sees Mike pulling away from him and as if he is walking away from him, so talking about feelings, about declarations of love is useless in his opinion. Literally the whole song shows Will, shows a guy who in his opinion has already missed his chance, he realizes that he can't change anything and hides himself and his feelings only deeper into himself.
I hope that Will will have this song in season 5, but I will also say that there is a possibility that in case of anything, Mike can play this song, so much in this song refers to Mike.
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leclerc-s · 20 hours
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paint the town red - part thirteen
TONY, PLEASE DON'T KILL YOUR FIRST DRIVER
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series masterlist
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"LECLERC I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW-" tony was cut off by hurried steps. the steps came to a stop at the front of the door, bianca and charles stood silent, hoping it was cause tony to go away. they prayed to every deity out there that it wasn’t a paparazzi or a hotel staff member.
"what on earth are you doing?" pepper potts' voice is heard asking tony. the couple on the other side of the door let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding in.
bianca and charles turned to frantically find a way out of their current predicament. they were trying to figure out what on earth they're supposed to do next. charles turns to look at bianca, "what do we do?"
"how am i supposed to know? i've never been in this position before? do i sneak out the window? what do i do?" bianca frantically asked.
"do not sneak out the window," charles said, "we're thirty stories up!"
"i got kidnapped by obadiah stane when i was a kid. i can easily get to my room from here," bianca paused for a moment, "and we are way higher than thirty stories."
"we don't have time to unpack that right now," charles said, "am i potentially going to die right now?" bianca shrugged, "what do you mean you don't know?!"
"LECLERC! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! OPEN THE DOOR!" tony shouted again.
"tony, calm down," pepper pleaded.
"CALM DOWN?! MY DRIVER HAS BEEN DEFILING MY BABY! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO JUST CALM DOWN?!"
"ooh," a different voice is heard saying, probably harley, "you're dead tony," that had definitely been harley.
pepper is heard chuckling, "did you just yell at me?"
"no, i-" tony cuts himself off, "pepper, that- he- my baby."
"she is a grown woman anthony," pepper tells him.
"but he's a whore," tony rebutts, "my baby deserves better than that."
the door to charles hotel room opens, bianca and charles stand on the other side, both shocked. the ferrari team, tony, and pepper stand opposite of them. carlos looks close to tears from laughter, harley is holding him up, truly the only reason carlos hasn't collapsed. sebastian looks like he would rather be anywhere else then there, while isaiah looks constipated, but that could just be the hangover.
"i am not a whore," charles argues.
"anyone who dates my daughter is a whore unless proven otherwise," tony says nonchalantly, his gaze set on pepper. realization dawns on him, he slowly turns to look at charles, the monegasque freezes, "you."
tony launches himself at charles, before sebastian jumps to grab him, isaiah helping him. bianca pushes charles behind her, carlos and harley being no help. peter is simply watching the situation with wide eyes, while pepper rushes to pull her phone out, calling someone.
"dad," bianca begins, "think very wisely about what you're about to do."
"oh, i am thinking," tony says, "i'm thinking that i should be asking f.r.i.d.a.y. to bring my suit. i'm about to murder that- that- twink!"
"twink?" charles questions, cocking his head to the side, "what is a twink?"
harley snorts, "tony, you can't go around calling people twinks."
"sure i can!" tony argues, "he's a twink whore who defiled my baby!"
the sound of the elevator opening is heard, several footsteps come running down the hallway. the sight of tony being held back by sebastian and isaiah send bucky and sam into a fit of laughter. steve smacks both of their heads, causing them to calm down. with them are also yelena, natasha, and joaquin.
"great!" tony says spotting steve and bucky, "bucky, can i borrow your metal arm?"
bucky stares at tony, before staring back down at his arm, “i’m afraid to say yes. what are you going to do with it?”
tony turned to glare at charles, who is still partially hidden by bianca, “i’m about to pulverize a twink.”
sam quickly realizes what’s going on, “LECLERC! IT’S LECLERC?! OH I JUST LOST SO MUCH MONEY!”
joaquin laughs loudly, “I JUST WON SO MUCH MONEY!”
“i’m not giving you my arm so you can kill your 1st driver. i have been apart of enough murders against my will, ferrari’s golden boy will not be added to that list. i already have a president on that list.”
“you people have a so many issues,” isaiah muttered, before pausing, processing what bucky had said, "you killed a president?" bucky winked at him and isaiah began wondering which president it could’ve been.
“do you maybe think, you’re overreacting tony?” steve questioned, “it’s charles. you like charles.”
“i liked him better when he wasn’t sleeping with my daughter!” tony shouted.
“who said we’re sleeping together?!” bianca questioned.
“harry!”
“you two were in the same hotel room,” sam pointed out. bianca glared at him, “because we were drunk samuel! people who are dating take care of each other!”
“i would never do anything-” charles began but was cut off by pepper glaring at her husband, “since when do you believe a thing an osborn says?”
“this is not something that should be happening in the middle of a hotel hallway,” sebastian said, “maybe we could head inside?”
“yelena stop giving everyone a play by play! put the phone away!” natasha scolded as they headed inside charles’ hotel room. yelena scoffed, “the people deserve to know.”
suddenly the elevator dinged, alerting them to the presence of more people arriving soon. everyone froze, waiting to see who it would be. clint, alex, kate, lando, max, america, scott, and george all ran out of the elevator.
“don’t kill him!” lando pleaded, “he is but a man in love!”
“kill him,” max argued, “that puts him out of contention!”
“i can’t believe you would stoop so low verstappen,” kate muttered.
“oh shut up,” max argued, “you said you would enjoy watching charles get beat up by an old man pushing 70.”
“HOW OLD DO YOU THINK I AM?!” tony shouted.
“old enough to live through the great depression?” america tried.
everyone stifled their laughter as tony made a sound of disapproval. tony turned to glare at charles, “i know you’re not laughing twink.”
“stop calling him a twink!” harley scolded the older man. tony rolled his eyes. bianca smiled politely at her dad, tony shook his head, “don’t give me that smile.”
“dad,” bianca tried, tony cut her off, “a driver? you just had to date a driver? you couldn’t go for an engineer or something? what about isaiah? he’s a great guy!”
“dad,” bianca tried again, tony once again ignored his daughter, "i mean seriously, anyone would've been better than my driver! you couldn't have picked like oscar? or logan? hell, i would've settled for max."
"i have a girlfriend," max pointed out. tony waved him off too, "or you could've gone for fernando. maybe jenson? or mick? or even lewis!"
"i'm pregnant!" bianca shouted. the room fell silent, before it exploded into a flurry of words and emotions, "i'm actually not but no will listen to me!"
"i'm about to die and you're making jokes?!" charles questioned, running around the room, being chased by tony, "i'm going to kill that monegasque twink!"
"why is he calling him a twink?" america asked, no one answered her question, being to occupied with trying to separate tony and charles. tony, who was currently trying to smother charles with a pillow while charles was trying to carefully throw tony off of him. carlos and harley were still in a corner of the room laughing as tears streamed down their faces.
"ANTHONY EDWARD STARK!" pepper shouted, causing the room to fall silent again, the only sound being carlos and harley's giggles. pepper marched towards tony, prying him off of charles, "you will leave that boy alone, sit down, and listen to what your daughter has to say," she turned to look at the crowd in the room, "as for the rest of you, all of you will get out!"
the small army that had been gathered in charles' hotel room quickly ran out, all of them pushing each other to try and get out of the room faster. pepper approached charles and helped him stand up, she quietly led him out of the room as tony sat on the couch.
charles stopped at the door turning around to stare at bianca, before turning to look at pepper, "will she be okay? he won't- he won't hate her, will he? for being with me?"
"oh," pepper quickly realised, "oh no, he won't hate her. tony's just- he has a flair for the dramatic. when it comes to any of his children he's quite over protective," she led charles out of the room without him realising it, "you should've seen him when he found out peter was dating mj."
the father and daughter duo sat quietly, one on the bed and the other on the couch. tony finally turned to look at his daughter, "why him? i don't mean why a driver, why charles? you could have anyone els-"
"i don't want anyone else," bianca cut her father off, "i'm happy with charles."
"bianca, it's charles."
"that's exactly why i want him, because it's charles!" bianca shouted at her father, "the same charles who texts me good morning and good night every day. the same charles who has memorized my coffee order, no matter how complicated it is. the same charles who begs for just a few more minutes of enzo’s cuddles with a giant pout on his face. the same charles who’s been asking me for weeks to tell you about us because he thinks i'm ashamed of him!"
“so why didn’t you?”
“because once i tell you that makes it real and when things are real people get hurt. i don’t want to get hurt, not again.”
“oh tesoro,” tony softly said, rushing to hug his daughter. bianca wrapped her hands around her father, crying as she told her father, “i don’t want to get hurt again.”
they sat there for what felt like hours, but was only minutes, "are you ashamed of him?" tony whispered.
"no dad, i think i love him."
"you think or you know?" tony questioned, "because if you think i'll give him crap for the longest time but if you know, i might learn to accept it. of course, i will give crap sometimes."
bianca looked up at her dad, eyes wide, tears falling from her eyes. tony swore she looked so much like the little girl she once was. the same little girl who cried when she accidentally crushed a worm or who cried watching marley and me. bianca always wore her heart on her sleeve but this it was difficult what she felt.
"oh," bianca whispered, "oh. dad i love him."
"and what are you going to do about it?"
"buy him a dog."
"what?" tony asked, "why would you get him a dog?"
"that's not important dad!"
"okay fine, get him the dog."
"dad," bianca said grabbing her dad's face, "i'm in love, be happier for me!"
"i'm happy for you, but i will pulverize that twink if he ever hurts you."
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when i get my hands on you, you're fucking dead osborn.
is that a threat stark? i don't think daddy dearest would love to learn through the media that you're threatening me.
oh i bet you would just love that. but i know how to make you disappear osborn, you're own father would never even question it. don't fucking contact my father ever again.
maybe i should show charles what a psychotic bitch you are
that's psychotic to you? personally i would think it's the giant purple space man who loved shiny rocks but to each their own 🤷🏻‍♂️ - charles
you're both insane and you deserve each other.
bisous 😘 - charles
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daniel ricciardo is he still alive? or did he get killed by tony stark?
lando norris as much as kate would've loved to see that, he's still alive.
max verstappen well as far as we know. when we left the room and he was still alive.
daniel ricciardo YOU PEOPLE JUST LEFT HIM THERE??
daniel ricciardo HE COULD GET PULVERIZED BY IRON MAN?
alex albon not pulverized but he did get called twink repeatedly. oscar piastri charles got called twink by tony stark? lando norris it was honestly hilarious.
charles leclerc i lived bitches!
charles leclerc thanks for having fucking confidence in me.
charles leclerc i can still hear you laughing carlos.
carlos sainz the highlight of my career
carlos sainz this was better than winning my home race.
george russell okay as hilarious as it was it wasn't that funny. carlos sainz george you don't get to have an opinion. shut up.
max verstappen it was pretty funny.
charles leclerc I ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF IRON MAN!! STOP MAKING FUN OF ME ASSHOLES!
alex albon okay, twink, shut up. it was hilarious.
logan sargeant imagine getting beat up by a man in a coca cola suit.
lando norris why the hell does he get to make fun of the avengers?
logan sargeant I'M AMERICAN BITCHES!!
logan sargeant except for natasha and wanda. i'm actually terrified of them. and nick fury. they are very scary.
oscar piastri he gets special privileges because he's american.
daniel ricciardo i think the avengers might cry when logan gets a podium.
logan sargeant you bitches wish you could be supported by the avengers.
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tony stark ALL OF YOU KNEW AND YOU SAID NOTHING??!!
peter parker i didn't know.
harley keener okay, in my defense, she said she would take my lab privileges away and you know how sacred those are to me.
isaiah atkins i just wanted to know how far those two would take it. same goes for seb.
carlos sainz it was funny to watch them scramble each times someone asked who they were dating.
ollie bearman harley kept dropping hints and i put the piece together
arthur leclerc i wanted to see my brother get pulverized by iron man.
sebastian vettel you told me, and i quote, ‘i don’t need her to tell me who it is, i’ll figure it out on my own. i’m a genius like that.’ so i didn’t tell you.
sebastian vettel you can only blame yourself for this anthony.
tony stark STOP! I CAN'T BE BLAMED FOR THIS SEBASTIAN!!
charles leclerc is this a safe space?
tony stark go away you twink.
isaiah atkins tony, you can't call him a twink.
tony stark i can in private. in public it's a different matter.
charles leclerc listen. i can deal with him calling me a twink.
bianca stark-potts father you will be nice to him or so help me i will tell mom.
ollie bearman does this make me their child??
arthur leclerc tony's going to kill him now because he's a grandpa.
harley keener tony, there had to be a reason enzo loved him so much.
tony stark I AM A GENIUS HOW THE HELL DID I NOT PUT THE PUZZLE PICES TOGETHER?
sebastian vettel clearly you're not as smart as you thought you were.
tony stark i can still fire you sebastian.
isaiah atkins do you know how many italians and tifosi you would piss off if that were to happen?
carlos sainz i'd quit.
charles leclerc so would i.
tony stark i could care less about you charles. bianca stark-potts dad. tony stark i mean, oh no charles, what would i do if my 1st driver left the team?
isaiah atkins i should've gone to mercedes when i had the chance.
peter parker I KNEW YOU WERE A BLOODY TRAITOR! YOU WOULD WORK FOR TORGER INSTEAD OF US?
isaiah atkins THIS PLACE IS HELL! T
isaiah atkins HE OWNER IS CONSTANTLY CALLING HIS 1ST DRIVER A TWINK! CARLOS IS ALWAYS FLIRTING WITH DEATH (NATASHA)
isaiah atkins AND CHARLES IS DATING BIANCA (SAID OWNER'S DAUGHTER)
isaiah atkins THIS IS HELL FOR ANY PR MANAGER!
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joaquin torres PAY THE FUCK UP BITCHES!! I WAS SO RIGHT!!
sam wilson of course she had to go for the silly little monegasque man.
sam wilson YOU COULDN'T GO FOR THE AMERICAN OR A BRIT??
clint barton SHE'S DATING CHARLES?? WHY NOT FERNANDO??
queen shuri and how exactly did you people figure it out?
america chavez osborn told tony, who caused a scene at the hotel.
tony stark i did not cause a scene...
harley keener you called him a twink repeatedly. and threatened to bust out the suit to pulverize him.
scott lang honestly the signs were all there, it's on us if we didn't put them together.
bucky barnes the best part was when bianca nearly gave tony a heart attack by declaring that she was pregnant
tony stark that was not funny barnes
bianca stark-potts oh but the look on your face was hilarious.
america chavez i got excited i thought i was going to be a godmother.
wanda maximoff if anything i would be godmother.
peter parker well who gets to be godfather. it's me right?
kate bishop they have children what are you people talking about?
tony stark WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT BISHOP?
yelena belova she is clearly talking about enzo and oliver. they are bianca and charles children.
harley keener funny, ollie said the same thing earlier.
bianca stark-potts add anthony jr to the list.
joaquin torres wait, are you actually pregnant?
bianca stark-potts look it's anthony jr!
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tony stark what kind of ugly rat is that?
natasha romanoff aww he's adorable. is he for charles?
peter parker should i be getting my girlfriend a dog?
wanda maximoff she's an mit college student living on campus. a dog is not a good idea. peter parker oh, maybe a snake or spider is a a better idea. carol danvers do we need to remind you of what happened the last time you were near a spider?
cassie lang OH CAN I GET A DOG??
hope van dyne NO! scott lang no freakin' way. cassie lang booo!!
harley keener please tell me you were able to convince charles to name the dog anthony jr.
bianca stark-potts i haven't given the puppy to him yet, but i will try my hardest to get him to name the puppy anthony jr just to piss off my dad.
tony stark this is why i'll never like your boyfriend
steve rogers he's leading the championship and he is part of the reason why ferrari is constructor's champion. cut the guy some slack.
yelena belova so who won the bet?
wanda maximoff joaquin.
joaquin torres ALL OF YOU THOUGHT I WAS CRAZY! BUT I WAS FUCKING RIGHT!!
sam wilson he's never going to let this go. ever.
bucky barnes oh good. and i have a mission with him next week. i'm going to suffer.
america chavez i just don't think it's unfair that i wasn't allowed to bet
riri williams you knew who it was! america chavez i still would've loved to win some money riri!
stephen strange this. this is my personal hell.
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may parker so tony finally figured out who bianca was dating?
tony stark WAS THERE ANYONE WHO DIDN'T KNOW?!?!?!
happy hogan i didn't know james rhodes i didn't think she was dating charles. i was confident it was lando. peter parker i also didn't know.
may parker what gave it away was the monaco post.
tony stark HOW THE FUCK DID I NOT SEE IT COMING??
pepper potts tony, he's exactly her type. i don't know how you didn't see this coming from the start. tony stark I DIDN'T THINK IT WOULD HAPPEN!
bianca stark-potts dad, you said you would stop being so dramatic.
tony stark i said i wouldn't give charles anymore shit. i never agreed to stop being dramatic.
tony stark my oldest daughter is dating a driver. i'm allowed to be dramatic.
harley keener that was the highlight of my day. best choice i've ever made working for ferrari.
harley keener i've never seen tony turn that shade of red. it was glorious.
tony stark i'm telling nebula.
bianca stark-potts YOU ARE NOT TELLING YOU ASSASIN ALIEN DAUGHTER ABOUT MY BOYFRIEND! IT'S BAD ENOUGH NAT AND WANDA BROKE INTO HIS APARTMENT tony stark NATASHA KNEW BEFORE ME? THAT'S BETRAYAL BIANCA!
tony stark i can be a dick to him all i want and no one can complain.
pepper potts anthony stark, you will be nice to that boy or so help me.
pepper potts he's a good kid and it could literally be worse. so please. shut up about it already.
tony stark but pepper
pepper potts anthony, that boy was terrified you would be upset with bianca for dating him. as i said, he's a good kid, stop worrying.
may parker well, i managed to get time off for texas so i expect to meet the boy there.
james rhodes pepper's right, it could be worse, she could be back with harry.
happy hogan you do realize this is the exact reason she never told you.
tony stark all of you are against me.
bianca stark-potts you're so dramatic dad. this is why i didn't tell you in the first place.
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i may have done something rash and i need your help.
once, again. i am not helping you hide harry's body if you've killed him. i wouldn't survive in jail.
he's still alive.
unfortunately.
okay, so what did you do? and does it involve anything illegal?
why do you automatically assume i did something illegal? i can do things legally!
well did you do something illegal? also, i’ve met harley
well between us harley is the idiot not me. he’s the one who decided it was a genius idea to send peter after the former us president.
bianca, what did you do?
i got another dog. he's so little that i'm afraid enzo might crush him.
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mon chou, he's adorable but what does that have to do with me?
do you want him? if you can't then i'll give him to someone else or even morgan.
she's been asking dad for a dog. apparently the llamas aren't enough for her. it also doesn't help that kate has pizza dog.
kate named her dog pizza dog?
his name is lucky but he loves pizza so we call him pizza dog.
CAN I HAVE HIM?
okay, here's the truth, he was originally he was for you but i chickened out so i told you a lie.
oh mon dieu. i get a puppy??
oh i could seriously tell you i love you right about now.
do it.
i dare you.
i will. i swear.
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liked by biancastark_potts, michellejones, cassie_lang and others
charles_leclerc the best present i could ever receive.
view all comments
username now who gave you that dog mr.eclair?
↳ username i think the better question is who's hand is that mr. eclair?
username HE'S A DOG DAD GUYS!!
maxverstappen1 cats are still better. make sure your girlfriend knows that.
↳ charles_leclerc she wants me to let you know that you're wrong. she's ready to fight you.
↳ maxverstappen1 tell her we'll settle this on the track in baku.
↳ harleykeener LMFAO!! YOU'RE GONNA LOSE VERSTAPPEN!! YOU SHOULD BE USED TO THAT BY NOW!!
username oh how cute 🥰
username charles leclerc becoming a dog dad in 2024 was not on my bingo card but it is so fucking adorable.
harryosborn hmm. seems familiar
↳ biancastark_potts i will fucking drop kick you osborn.
↳ peterparker i will tie you to the red bull garage. i learned that threat from isaiah!
↳ harleykeener i will send the cavalry after you bitch. fuck off.
cassie_lang oh do tell what is the adorable pooch's name.
↳ charles_leclerc undecided, it's all depending on how much i want to live.
↳ tonystark leclerc i swear to god.
landonorris you win the constructors championship and your girlfriend gets you a dog. it's not fair, i want a dog.
↳ alex_albon then go adopt one lando
↳ landonorris it's not the same alex.
michellejones i've been informed of what the calvary planned. i vote you name him leo anthony, to upset tony.
↳ charles_leclerc it's not like he can kill me without being the main suspect. leo anthony it is.
↳ joaquintorres THE CALVARY WINS!
↳ tonystark if charles goes missing, it wasn't me.
↳ pepperpotts anthony. behave.
↳ tonystark yes ma'am
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series taglist: @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @be-your-coffee-pot @vellicora @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @nothaqks @nataliambc @prongsvault @georgeparisole @kailyn-g05 @bella-1 @butterfly-lover @emilyval1 @winchesterwife27 @namgification @octopussesarecool @jensonsonlybutton
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¡leclerc-s speaks! i love just randomly throwing in taylor swift references.
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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Text
Love Bites - Chapter III / Sneak Peek!
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! This sneak peek is almost continuously about sex, isn't it? But don't worry, the whole chapter also contains other topics. (Known topics - blood & gore, bit! soft Feyd- as usual only to you etc.) Even though I think this will be the chapter with the most smut content. It's going to be disgusting... I think... And mean. Him to you. :p
But also extreme soft, you'll see.
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I hate his uncle, everyone hates Vladimir! ಠ_ಠ
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❝Then I'll give up the nights with her. But only, when I can talk to her during the day. And by that I also mean outside of training.❞ Feyd spoke more and more firmly with every word. 'Talk' , Vladimir thought mockingly. His nephew shouldn't have mentioned that he had just disturbed their intimacy. He nodded to Feyd, but already had new plans in mind. ❝Make sure you don't make any more mistakes, nephew.❞
Mistakes? Him?
Feyds eyes met the Barons with full force. Anyone else would have pissed themselves in fear. But no matter what Feyd did, Vladimir didn't care. Especially not when you were the topic. Feyd had nothing to say, it was as simple as that. At least as long as his uncle was present. ❝I should have let her kill you yesterday!❞, he said angrily. His voice almost cracked, though he wasn't loud. Yet everyone here could hear his words. The Na-Baron didn't dare to move in those seconds. If he took only one step forward now, he was sure that even the guards wouldn't be able to hold him. He saw one of the ladies next to his uncle dare to raise her head and glance briefly at the young Harkonnen. Feyd recognized her immediately. It was the waitress from last night who had offered you and him the drinks on his celebration. ❝Yes, the offspring will be beautiful. That's for sure!❞ He answered her now. Surprisingly calm, in contrast to his previous words. And he knew he had said the words out loud. The lady smiled gently, but lowered her head again. Vladimir turned to the ladies, but did not recognize who had raised their heads. ❝One of them complimented the Na-Baroness yesterday... no, us.❞ Feyd grinned nastily at his uncle. ❝If you continue to make mistakes, she will not bear your offspring!❞ Vladimir continued to clarify.
Shaking with rage again, Feyd left the hall without a word. He felt like you did yesterday, when you walked away suddenly. He swallowed, his eyes wandering back and forth, left to right, wondering how he could avoid his uncle's order. There wasn't much time for intense intimacy during the day. Today the training hall had been an exception because you had been in the same place at the same time and you had teased his ego. Maybe it wouldn't have occurred to him to touch you otherwise. Since he preferred to do it in a bed with you anyway. Or in the thermal, as he had discovered last night. And in that moment, he realized what the strange feeling inside him was. Grief. Even if it wasn't every night, he loved it having your body by his side. No matter whether it was in his chambers or yours. Holding you in his arms. Knowing that you were his property and there was nothing you could do about it. And he had to admit to himself that he liked it when someone felt comfortable in his presence. Except for his whores.
He knew that if Vladimir told them about his words, it wouldn't matter at all that he had only given them to Farris yesterday. And they would certainly be happy to be allowed to pleasure him again. No, to should. Feyd remembered your words, how you had told him in the thermal that it would be fine with you if he became intimate with them again. As long as it would put his uncle in a 'better mood'. And it really did seem that way. That it would make him feel better. The Na-Baron wondered if he could just refuse them. Or would they tell Vladimir? Feyd couldn't think straight at the moment.
-
❝Apologize, my Baroness.❞ , he said as he re-entered the training hall. You hadn't moved a bit, or so it seemed, during his absence. You realized immediately that something was wrong. ❝What happened?❞ , you asked, startled, when you saw the blood on the dagger. ❝My uncle was... talking.❞ Feyd explained as he knelt down to you and cut the tape from your wrists. You shook your aching joints once before he took a look at the irritated skin himself. ❝What did he say?❞, you asked, wanting to know for sure. Feyds appearance had changed. The previous grin was completely gone, now there was anger in him. Maybe even rage he tried to hide. The young man sighed, thinking about how he could explain it. ❝We're not allowed to see each other. Not at night anymore. He doesn't want us to be intimate with each other. The fact that you are my fiancée, the Na-Baroness, doesn't interest him in the slightest. From tonight, there will be guards outside our chambers at night.❞ , he began, kissing your skin below your belly button before pulling your pants back up. ❝Guards?❞ , you asked with wide eyes.
❝Mh-hm.❞ Feyd only said. ❝During the day, I think we can see us... still. But I don't know if he'll stick to those words.❞, he continued. It was hard enough for you to see each other during the day either way. You both couldn't spend the whole day in the training halls either. And even here, you didn't always meet. You looked again at the bloody sword. ❝It's not his blood. Unfortunately.❞ Feyd said. ❝It's from someone insignificant.❞ He took your face in his hands, stroking the dark circles under your eyes again. ❝I'm taking you to bed. You don't look healthy, you're pale. Training won't do you any good, or very little, if you're not in good shape.❞ He spoke as if he were talking about the weather - he sounded uninterested. Confusion spread through you. Mixed with a little fear. You still found it difficult to assess him and his emotions. His strong arms picked you up with ease and you leaned your head against his warm shoulder and, to be honest, were glad that you didn't meet anyone on the way. It must have looked pretty strange the way the Na-Baron was carrying you on his hands.
When you arrived, he carefully lowered your body onto your bed. ❝Drink.❞ , he spoke and gave you the glas bottle of water that was next to your bed. ❝Do you need anything else? Should a servant bring you something?❞ Feyd asked you, resting his head on your thigh. ❝I don't think so, thanks.❞ , you replied after a few sips of the cool liquid. Feyd took the bottle from you and took off your boots. Your pants and top followed, he didn't want you to sleep in those clothes. His eyes were glued to your naked chest, seeing his love bites and hickeys. And it aroused him far too much. ❝Fuck.❞ , he growled as his hands stroked your skin. ❝How dare he rip you from me?❞ , the Harkonnen murmured, slowly settling down and burying his nose in your neck until he finally started to spread kisses over your blotchy skin. ❝I'm going to kill this scum! Slash him open and let him bleed out long and agonizingly! A quick death would be a gift for him, but I won't give him that!❞ Feyd pushed your jaw back up to kiss the thin skin under your chin, down your throat. Marked you with more hickeys.
Only his.
He growled deeply, kissing the soft skin of your breasts. You sighed comfortingly and your slender fingers caressed his muscular shoulders. ❝You have to go.❞, you said quietly. The words hurt yourself as you uttered them. ❝I don't want to!❞ Feyd growled menacingly and his hands gripped tightly around your waist. He wanted to feel that you were with him here and now. He took the dagger with the dried blood from his belt and placed it next to you on the mattress. He didn't want to hurt you now.
You looked at the blade as Feyds lips made their way down your body. The bloody dagger had you so mesmerized for a moment that you hadn't even felt Feyds touch until he pulled your underwear off your legs. He knelt to the floor, pulled your body closer to the edge of the bed and kissed your lower lips as he spread your legs a little more. ❝What about my punishment?❞ , you asked breahthless. ❝That's off topic now!❞ , he snarled and gripped your thighs tightly with both hands.
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(☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞
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yanderes-galore · 2 days
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HI- I know I'm super late- But I hoping I could get this in- I was hoping for Y!Kugo Sakamata from MHA, romantic Hc's and if it's too late please go head and ignore this
It's been a bit since I've seen MHA and I don't recall Gang Orca having a big role plot-wise. Despite this, I'll try my best to write him using the personality I found on the wiki. I hope you like the HCs I came up with regardless, even if they aren't intense.
Yandere! Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca Concept
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Possessive behavior, Animalistic behavior, Animal-like courting, Violence, Stalking, Brief blood mention, Dubious relationship
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According to what I've read, Kugo is a calm and focused Pro Hero.
He's friendly and good towards his fellow Pro Heroes.
Although when he was pretending to be a villain, he can put on a cruel and ruthless persona to fit the role.
He likes to see students improve in UA and learn from their own mistakes.
He takes teaching seriously.
Under the intimidating appearance, Kugo is actually quite soft.
He would be this way with his beloved, too.
I like to think due to his quirk he displays orca-like courting with his obsession, even if he doesn't mean it.
I'm talking like... he makes small vocalizations towards you when he holds you and stuff like that.
Kugo may be possessive with you, too.
I actually imagine most heroes who have animal quirks act like that animal at times.
In terms of how you could've met Kugo, maybe you're a new Pro-Hero or are working alongside him in some way.
His obsession starts as just him wanting to watch over you and protect you as a fellow ally.
It's then his feelings would develop once he realizes he isn't staying professional.
For example, when around you he makes small clicking sounds when talking to you.
Or when you're talking with someone else, especially someone you may have an interest in, he seems oddly moody or aggressive.
Others are a bit concerned about it but Kugo does his best to brush it off.
While he has the ability to paralyze his enemies, I don't imagine he'll use such an ability on you.
That or if he did, it would be nearly unheard of.
He cares too much for his partner to harm them.
Kugo is durable, strong, and fast.
If I remember correctly, he also uses sidekicks to his advantage.
If he was worried about you, he'd probably send you a few to watch over you.
That would also be his only way of stalking you since I imagine he can be busy.
I like the idea that he's soft with you despite his intimidating nature since he is fond of being a teacher for kids.
He'd never mean to scare you on purpose.
In fact, due to being a Pro Hero, I doubt he'd fatally harm anyone unless he had to for your safety.
Even then he'll reassure you that you're safe and tell you he had to in order to protect you.
If you were already in a relationship, Kugo keeps you in his home.
He likes you safe and often uses that as an excuse.
In reality he may just like you away from prying eyes.
Talking more about orca characteristics, when he holds you close and you're alone he definitely makes noises.
If he's flirting with you or showing affection, he'd make vocalizations towards and love it if you touch around his eyes or mouth.
Not going to lie, a possessive and protective yandere fits for him.
If you say you want to go outside and continue your work, he turns it down.
If you wanted to teach young heroes he may relent though.
He'd adore you if you were good with kids.
If you ever got hurt, Kugo would go ballistic.
He may not even care who else gets hurt as long as it means he can protect you.
At the peak of his obsession, you may be isolated and under watch by your "partner".
Doesn't matter if you were dating prior to this or not, you'll be in his home where you belong.
He tells you not to worry... that he'll protect you no matter what... you should only rely on him as your partner...
Just listen to him and nothing will hurt you in this cruel world, he'll guarantee that even if it means there's blood on his hands.
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smartycvnt · 22 hours
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Title: Talk It Out
Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader
Word Count: 984
You felt like everything was a bit too much. You had been fed loss after loss on the biggest stages offered. Tonight, however, it felt a little more personal. You hadn't been up for a championship, but it was your first time wrestling in your hometown in nearly five years. You had hoped for a win, to be hailed as a winner in your homecoming match, but instead, you had been humiliated.
You didn't know where you were going as you stormed off backstage. Everybody avoided you like the plague. Anger and discontent radiated off of you in waves. The looks of pity only made it all worse, so you went to the one place where nobody else would know to go.
The years spent working at this venue as a teenager had paid off well. All of the old secrets you had discovered were left how you remembered them. The stairwell leading up to the roof was still well hidden behind a janitor's closet door. You made your way up there, not expecting to be followed. It was supposed to be your chance to truly be alone for a few moments.
"Ash," Rhea called out softly. You didn't turn to look back at her. Still, she approached and sat down next to you. "How are you feeling?"
"Like a fucking loser. He told me things would be different, and the first major live event we have here, I get fucking squashed," you ranted. Rhea placed her hand on the small of your back. Usually, you would have leaned into the touch, but you couldn't handle any more humiliation. "Rhea, don't."
"What?" Rhea didn't bother hiding her surprise. You always leaned into her embraces and touches. It was a simple pleasure that Rhea could always count on. Her feelings for you had always kept her up at night. There was always a little voice in her head shouting at her to say or do something, but Rhea never did.
"I can't handle any more humiliation, so please just don't. Go downstairs and forget that I even came up here," you told her. Rhea's brows knit together in confusion. You sounded desperate and conflicted.
"What's humiliating about being comforted?" You had always been one to champion getting help when you needed it. Rhea knew that she'd be so much worse off mentally if it wasn't for you. You preached self love and care like nobody else, so Rhea really didn't understand why you were pushing her away when it was obvious that you needed someone.
"What happened to being kind to yourself? What happened to accepting love and comfort when you can't give it to yourself?" Rhea asked. She didn't mean to sound so angry with you, but she couldn't help the raising of her voice. You flinched away a little, just as much as you could without moving out of her arms.
"Rhea, please," you pleaded.
"Talk to me. Tell me what's going on," Rhea said. You dropped your head against her shoulder and turned to try and hide your tears. Rhea could feel them soaking through the fabric of her shirt. In that moment, everything around you was Rhea. You relished in the momentary comfort that her presence granted you before it was ripped away. You hated that you got so in your head about Rhea. The two of you had been friends for years, and your feelings had never gotten in the way before.
"I love you," you mumbled against Rhea's skin.
"I love you too, Ash." The way that Rhea said it broke your heart. You had heard it a million times before, and it didn't sound any different. She had obviously heard you, but Rhea didn't understand. Once again, she felt your hot tears begin to soak into the collar of her shirt. "What's wrong? I hate seeing you like this. Tell me what I can do to help."
"You can't do anything. You've got Dom, and I'm stuck here by myself. There will always be a long line of people who come before me, and I thought that I was okay with it, but I'm not. I love you, and I want so much more than what we've got." You were practically sobbing into her at this point. Rhea gently cupped your cheeks as she pulled your face out from the crook of her neck.
"I need you to look at me. I need you to listen to me, not just hear me, but listen, okay?" Rhea gave you a moment to compose yourself before she spoke again, "I love you too. I feel the same way about you, okay?"
"Y-you do?" You couldn't believe it. You needed to hear Rhea tell you again. It would have been your luck for her to not mean it and start laughing in your face. However, that never came. Instead, you felt the gentle press of her lips against yours. You kissed her back, just as gently as she kissed you.
"I love you. I'll say it a million more times if I have to, but there are better ways for me to show you," Rhea laughed nervously. Your eyes lit up as her words registered in your brain. "Let's get back down there. A lot of people are worried about you, and if I kiss you again, I'm not sure that I'd be able to stop myself from doing more. I've wanted this for a long time."
"Me too." You smiled at Rhea as the two of you stood up and made your way back down to everybody else. Rhea had you tucked under her good arm as she walked you to the locker room so that you could get out of your gear and into your regular clothes. A few people came up to check on you, but they kept a decent distance because of Rhea's proximity to you.
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jujutsukgojo · 3 days
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My gifts to you
feitan portor x reader
Summary: You knew him for years for only moments at a time. Yet, you take it upon yourself to love and mourn him anyway, even when the world won't. tw: light smut, slight yandere feitan, spoilers, mentions of murder, light angst, fluff(?), injuries, cheating, time skips an: didn't mean for it to be this long. Feitan is a bit tricky for me but oh well :) kind of inspired by criminal minds 'no way out'. 10.8k
“If you tie it like this, it should stay, okay?” You tap the boy’s foot. Although he is smaller than you in height, his feet are bigger. It’s quite comical but you don’t dare laugh. In this blasted city, you’d be bound to die for such a thing. Especially if you laugh at someone with crazy hair and carries a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.  
  He says something in a foreign language that you can’t understand. If you are correct, it may be inverted Japanese. In the books that one kid collects, there is a country, Japan, where the common language originates. Since the common language isn’t his mother tongue, it makes you wonder where he’s from and why he’s here. 
  The boy stands up to his full, but short, height. You sit on random rubble and look up at him, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he call over Phinks or even bring Uvogin? He hangs out with Phinks mainly but who knows these days. 
   Instead of swinging the bat at you or calling over his friends, he pats your head awkwardly. You don’t make any sudden movements or noises. The boy leaves right after. A sigh escapes your lips after he leaves you behind.  
   What's his name again? Feitain? 
__________
  In your hut, you slightly stir the food that sizzles in the pan you found. It’s rare to come across tomatoes and eggs but you managed this time. The smell is mouth watering. You hope no one else can smell it. 
As much as you want to live elsewhere, this is what you settle for at the moment. In another world, you’d be out of this city and somewhere clean and safe. Like the church or something. No, even better than the church. You’ve heard of the outside where there are bright flashing lights and diamonds and pearls on people’s necks. There are flowers of all colors out there. Different shapes, smells, and meanings, they’re all beautiful. You hear that food isn’t scavenged but bought or given to people without a price.  
   People said they’ve seen the safety of children your age that play without a care. There are parents for the lost kids and doctors for the injured. Clean clothes and showers on the regular. You can even see the sun clearly and the big, round moon that doesn't bring out the wolves in men. 
There are pastors and priests that don’t turn people away, either. Hell, you have even wondered if there were schools there that allow everyone to get in. You're sure that you are reading and doing math wrong. How embarrassing.  
Finally done, you place the food on a plastic plate you found. You made sure to wipe the grime off the plate and rinsed it with clean water before using it. Even though you can just eat out of the pan, you want to seem sophisticated like the outside. They don't eat out of pans or use dirty plates. 
  The food steams and is welcoming. Without a lot of utensils, you pick at it with your hands. It burns at first but you’re too hungry. The flavor bursts in your mouth. Even without the proper seasonings, it’s still heaven. You haven’t eaten in a while so you’ll take what you can get.  
   Suddenly, the boy, Feitan, enters your hut. You gasp and protectively cover your food. He brings his foot out. His shoe, which he stole, is untied again. You swallow the substance and point out, “I taught you how to tie them.” 
“Tie.” 
“I taught you.” You set your plate down.  
“Tie.” You roll your eyes and pat your thighs. He walks over to you and places his dirt caked shoe on your lap. Slowly, you tie them.  
“There, see? Come on now, you need to learn. A little boy can’t grow without tying his shoes.” 
“I’m not little boy.” You give a breathy chuckle. “Of course you are, honey.” 
  He leans in close to your face. “I’m older than you.”  
...He does hang out with Phinks, who is a couple years older than you. In fact, it is rare to see them apart. Is it possible that it’s true? Is Phinks the type to be friends with someone who is younger?
 Curious, you ask, “Then why are you so short?” His eyes widened in shock. Then, strangely, he laughs while patting your head harshly. Studying his face revealed what looks like the beginning of a sinister smile.
  He looks at your plate and sits down in front of you. You’re both on the dirt floor. 
 “Give me.” You scoff and snap at him. “No! Find your own!” 
The little beast decided that the two of you should ‘share’. He smacks on his food, making you want to punch him repeatedly. He’s gaunt and bony, but not really bad like last time. His face has a tiny bit of roundness to it. 
  “Stop staring.” He inhales a tomato. “You look better than last time.”
“Better?” He cocks his head to the side. The remnants of the tomato smeared a little on his cheek.
“Yeah, healthier.” He stares at you for a second. “Thanks.” His accent is thick, and you still can’t place it. Nevertheless, you understand. Afterwards, much to your surprise, he sleeps in your hut now that his belly is full. Satisfied and strangely not afraid, you follow suit. It’s nice to have a friend, however strange.
You are barely awake, sleep still heavy in your eyes, when you see him pop up. Drool is crusted on his cheek, and he rubs his eyes. He yawns and then spots you next to him. Feitan eyes the entry of the hut then back at you. He puts the only cover you have on you then pets your head. 
  Before he leaves, he places his bat in your hand. Feitan secures the entry as he exits the hut. 
_____________
  It’s been years since you and Feitan have talked. You've gotten familiar with him but when Sarasa had died in such a disrespectful and gruesome way, he withdrew. In the meantime, you waited for him and studied a power you discovered. No matter the eyes that were always on you, you didn’t care about the mysterious and hidden audience. 
  You don’t know what it’s called but it started when you witnessed some kid about to get her ass handed to her by some thugs. The man had moved a pair of scissors without using his hands. They aimed right towards her and in a moment of instinct, you rushed to push her out of the way. Unfortunately, the scissors stabbed you in the shoulder.  
  It was then did you feel the rush of a force so strong, that it knocked everyone away from you. A faint white light that glowed from your skin that only your eyes could see. As you looked around in shock, you saw that same glow coming from that man and his friends. 
  You were gasping when you fell to your knees. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t be here!” The girl your age ran for her life and left you behind. In a moment of fear, you call out to her to help you. You were so afraid; you couldn't tell if the screams were hers or yours. Given the situation, you were too rattled, terrified and hurt, to focus.
The men shook for a second then got up to face you. The blood from your shoulder wasn’t stopping its flow. Crimson red stained your clothes and the ground. It was all so strange, such an unusual feeling of adrenaline that you couldn’t help but memorize. Almost as if the world had finally made sense. Every single thing became so much clearer to your dismay.  
  The men came towards you with malicious intent. While putting pressure on your injury, you managed to kick one of their legs, causing them to buckle and hurt his knee. He screamed in agony. 
  “G-get away!” You try to stand. The press of your hand on the wound isn’t helping. Is it supposed to bleed this much? It hit your shoulder, but did it nick something?  
  You need to stop it, to heal and get away from them. In this city, people like you are in danger from men like them. If you don’t get away, you’ll end up like Sarasa. She was never really close to you. She was a nice girl who always looked for video tapes, so you'd help her from time to time. Yet, her death scarred everyone since it was so close to home. And now, you no doubt are facing the exact same situation. Wrong place, wrong time.  
   Same fate.  
You fell back on the ground and looked at the sky. It has always been so dirty, just like the city due to pollution. Still so young, you know you won’t see what it really looks like. In the corner of your eye, you spot something green. A small clover with four leaves. 
  One time, an old man told a story of how four-leaf clovers are a sign of good luck. By the intense feeling and pressure of your eyes, you know it’s not true. Pain in all ways makes tears fall from your eyes. Lips wobbling at how unfair everything is and that you will never see the sun. The outside must really be heaven, and for someone so young who hasn’t committed a sin, you are wondering if you can go.
  Suddenly, flowers that you never knew blossomed around you. The soft petals touched your filthy skin and got rid of the aches. The blood on your shoulder faded from view as well as the pain. A soft and beautiful hum whispered in your ear. You truly believed it to be in your head, an imagination of paradise as you leave. Heaven, they call it. You must be close to the outside world then. 
  This must be it, you thought. There was no pain from a strike or fear. Just closed eyes and peace. Something you know you couldn’t get in the atrocious city.  
It ends. You were shocked as the beautiful flowers disappeared. Heaven, would you reject someone? 
  The men didn’t hurt you. The one whose knee was broken was able to move his leg. His red hair kind of glowed in the sun, and brown eyes were wide. He muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and walked away without a limp. His friends followed.  
   After that, you had realized that your ability wasn’t anything like scissors or something scary. It was to heal and be healed.
Although after immediately learning this, you didn't go out of your way to find the source of the screams in the direction the people went. First was the girl, then the group of men. After what you went through, it didn't seem like a good idea. 
 Feitan, somehow, got wind of it. Now in his later teen years you both estimate, he sits still and points to his arm. There’s a gnarly gash oozing blood. You wonder how he’s not feeling this and if he is, how he isn’t even fazed.  
  You gently pick up his arm and inspect it. He's thin but has clear definition in his arms. You haven’t seen him in so long that you are surprised by his growth. Hell, he’s taller now. Still short, but at least he grew.  
  In a jar, you take a premade petal. This is a way for you to save energy and reach people when you physically can’t tend to. Acting as a pill, you make sure that people can get infections out. For some reason, illnesses and infections are particularly tricky and tiring for you.  
  “Eat this, Feitan.” He frowns. “No.” You sigh. “It’s infected. You need to eat this so I can heal it right.” 
  “It’s not.”   
Rolling your eyes you bring his wound to his face. “This, this is infected. It's literally oozing pus.” How long did this go on? Was he really that hesitant to just come and see you?
  He growls and takes the delicate petal and places it in his mouth. “Stop pouting.”  
“Not pouting. It’s nasty.” He’s not wrong. It has a bitter taste and when chewed, a slimy texture. The color of the disintegrating petal leaves a stain in the mouth as well. If not for the benefits, no one would even bother. They'd be just as offended as Feitan.  
  The pus stops and clears up. “Alright, this’ll leave a scar.”  
You blow on your hand so that flowing blossoms surround him. Beautiful shades of pink and white go through his hair. With a gentle caress, you see the flurries touch his wound. It starts to encourage his own healing.  
  As much as you want to do the full thing, you’re tired. All day you’ve been working and collecting payments. Not to mention facing the disappointment of them being useless. You want to kick yourself for not getting paid first. But the sight of those grateful people and healed kids softens your heart.  
  Soon, it stops once the injury becomes manageable. You’re about to wrap it when a hand stops you. “What’s this?”  
  “Feitan, I'm tired. You caught me at a bad time.” You try to move your hand but he stops you. He's a lot stronger than you remember. “Heal.” 
His fluency isn’t the greatest still.  
“I’m tired! Just let it heal the rest of the way.” No matter how much you try to yank your hand away, his grip is too strong. “Please, Feitan...”  
  Surprisingly, he lets go and from what you can see, the subtle white glow appears and heals him the rest of the way, leaving small flames. “Feitan...what was that?” 
  He rolls his eyes and plops down on a chair. He says nothing and just relaxes, or at least that’s what he’s trying to make it seem like. It has been a while since you’ve seen him, but that doesn’t make you blind to his behaviors…sometimes. 
   “As a transmuter, I can heal a little by using enhancer,” He looks at you suspiciously. “You know nothing about nen?”
“Nen?” You put the gauze and other items in a black bag. It was found in the safe zone by the church. Apparently, it belonged to a doctor from the outside. The bag had all kinds of necessities. Gauze, medicine, some syringes, disinfectant, a thermometer, all kinds of stuff that you’ve had to use sparingly. What you save in the bag, you make up for with your ability. 
  He smacks his lips and calls you a ‘dumb brat’. “You use nen but don’t know it?”
Sighing, you ask, “What is nen, Feitan?” 
“What you do. Use your aura and stuff.” His arms are crossed, and he looks at you expectantly. You gather that he likes knowing things you don’t. It’s like a weak power trip. 
  But it is nice to finally have a name and explanation for it. And that’s what he did this time. Visiting you for a moment just to pick with you while teaching you something you should have known. 
“Wait, if you could do that, why’d you come here?” He just shrugs.
------
When you see him again, he brings his friends along. You immediately recognize some of them. Phinks, who ran with Feitan, the boy who always collected books, and Uvogin, the giant who was always claiming territory and beating people up. 
  Feitan should be twenty now. It’s hard to tell since he looks youthful. He points to his friend, the boy with the books, and orders, “Heal.”
“You can do it, Feitan, remember?” You were in the middle of cleaning when he and the rest of his posse pop up. They look flustered and a little worse for wear. 
  “Heal.” He always does crap like this. You roll your eyes at first. The body they carry tugs on your strings a bit. 
“Fine. Put him on the table.” Thankfully, it’s cleaned, and a new wrapping has been placed on it. Gently, the man is put on it. You spot the cross tattoo on his forehead. Ah, that’s where Feitan has been. Lately, there’s been whispers of the Phantom Troupe. Merciless killers and thieves from Meteor City that have been gaining respect over the years. Your opinion of them isn’t the greatest but it also isn’t the worst. You appreciate them for standing up for Meteor City, but their methods are questionable.
   You sigh and begin to undress the boy with the cross. “Is that necessary?” 
You continue to pull off his clothes, not bothering to answer the question the girl asked. If she can’t understand why you need to remove his clothes, then that’s on her. She scoffs after another female voice answers her question. 
  You finally see his wound. Feitan can heal himself to a degree, but you don’t think this guy can. The gash is deep and sewed with makeshift stitches. There’s no nen involved, surprisingly. Given that Feitan is an avid user, you thought his friends would be keen on it too. 
“He’s a specialist. Enhancer techniques are harder for him.” Phinks spoke. He must've understood your confusion. 
“And the stitches?” You gently investigate the area. It’s an angry red around it and, like you suspected, infected. It wasn’t properly taken care of. You begin to remove the stitches. You wonder what the thread is made of and how long this has been going on. 
“He,” Phinks points to Uvogin. “And him,” He then points to another large man with long ears. “Thought they could do it. Normally, Machi heals us but they were away from her. Her stitches would have helped him but not any infections.”
  “Ah, well this requires more than I thought.” You touch the ground and out comes a beautiful swirl of flowers. Underneath the moving petals is a blooming sunflower. It picks the guy up so he rests on it. The bed of the flower glows softly and becomes warm. His once wincing face is now peaceful. His injury is slowly closing and the red is beginning to turn pink. 
“The downside of this is that it takes a while. It’ll be all healed up in about an hour or so.”
“ An hour?” Uvogin, who has abandoned his afro and traded it for long standing hair. “Feitan, I thought you said she was good? We could’ve gone to that one guy and got it done right then and there.”
“She’s the best. Wait.” His hands are in his pockets and he moves. Feitan looks around and touches whatever he pleases. You try not to focus on his compliment. You wonder if the reason he moved from your line of sight is because he got embarrassed. If so, you won’t tease him. The Troupe are killers, afterall. 
   You start to feel the weight of your nen. This technique requires more effort than the others. Feitan explained it to you but you never did get the hang of it. You just know what to do instinctively. You were proud that you could do any of this without a teacher.
 What you’re sure of is that this man, whatever his name is, is giving you a crap ton of money after this or there’ll be hell to pay. 
   You feel something tickling the side of your face. The wrapper is red and unopened. You take the energy bard gratefully. “Thank you, Feitan.”
A couple of the Troupe members complain about the time. Machi or Mochi or whatever, the pink haired one, especially complains and criticizes for some reason. You have never seen this person before in your life yet here she is pouting. 
  “You okay?” You see the blond boy with big blue eyes study you closely. He moves closer to your face. A smile never leaves his face. Before you can answer, Feitan, who hasn’t left your side since you ate the bar, answers for you. 
“She’s fine. I’m watching her.”
You hear a couple of snickers. Feitan glares daggers at the offenders. You take a deep breath and ignore the friends who decided to crowd inside your hut. The boy with the forehead tattoo lies peacefully. Although you are running out of steam, his wound is healing nicely. One of the women, you believe it’s Pakunoda, comes to you and bends down. 
“Can I get you anything?” You discover that your throat is absolutely parched. “Some water, please.”
  If you remember correctly, the last you saw of her was when her head was shaved and some outsider kid did it. She had always kept it short. And now, it’s on her shoulders and very sleek. Over the years she’s drastically changed.
  You drink the water, which to your surprise, is clean. “Hey, how did this happen anyway?”
  “Don’t ask questions.” Feitan quickly shuts you down. Before you can ask anything more, you notice the entire group of friends are quiet. 
  “It’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” You nod at the blonde boy with blue eyes and a permanent smile. Completing the hour, the tattoo guy is up. He’s immediately impressed. “My name’s Chrollo Lucilfer. Yours?” He puts out his hand for you to shake. 
  “Yeah, the book collector-theater nerd-kid, right? My name’s-” Before you can even answer, Feitan does it for you. 
  He gives your name and how your Nen works. He’s quick with it, too. You side eye Feitan for a second. “Thanks, Feitan. I, uh, really needed a spokesperson.”
“Ah, I guess it can’t be helped then, Feitan?” There’s tension in the air. It’s thick and heavy. By the looks of it, neither one is backing down. “Um, it’s not a big deal that he answered for me, you do know that, right?”
  Seconds pass through this. You look around for anyone to intervene with this. Whatever the hell is going on, it’s deep. “Since Fei explained it, why not have her join?”
“Positions are filled.” Chrollo still stares directly into Feitan’s eyes. Phinks nervously chuckles, once again trying to defuse the situation. “Fei, come on. No fighting. Right boss?”
  Suddenly, it’s lifted. Chrollo has what looks like a practiced smile on his face. “That’s true. That’s a rule.”
  Chrollo takes a glance at you. “She obviously means a lot to you. Clearly, she’s an asset, too.”
  “I’m right here, jackass.” Feitan smacks you on the head. “I’ll handle her.” 
  The others sigh in relief. Momentarily, you’re a little offended. “It was nice meeting you.”
They exit your hut right after, leaving Feitan behind. “So. those were your friends, huh?”
“Watch tongue.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes. There is blood on the floor and on the table. The furniture is in disarray due to all of his friends having no home training.  “I haven’t seen you in forever and this is how you greet me?”
 He frowns. “I say hello all the time.” You turn to him. “When? I didn’t see you.”
Feitan huffs and kicks the ground lightly. You get up to move the furniture back to place. Your movements are slow and everything seems so much heavier. Everything is swirling right before your eyes. Your head hurts and yet feels so light. Before you meet the ground, Feitan takes you to the couch and lays you down. 
  “I haven’t seen you in so long, little boy…” Those were the last words you say before you drift to sleep. 
Hours later, you wake up at the sound of birds. There is a beautiful blue blanket on you with golden yellow designs. It’s thick and so warm you could stay forever. You’ve never owned anything like this. 
  Slowly you get up and search for Feitan. He’s nowhere to be found much to your dismay. Last night’s conversation still stays with you. He insisted that he says hello all the time. That he sees you regularly, yet, you haven’t seen him at all. 
  The blanket, the wind chime, the medical supplies, the various decorations with stones, paint and if you weren’t smart, you’d say gold. Could Feitan have been the one to give you gifts? Silently watching over you and in his own way, saying hello? You have felt like you were being watched for years. 
____________
  “Do you understand why I didn’t welcome you?”
“No, and I never will. Now please, leave me alone.” You feel convicted by turning a man of God away, but can he truly be one when he left a child to suffer? You were in the cold, wind, and rain, alone in one of the worst parts of the city. All you had was Feitan, and he was there once in a blue moon. After the rejection from the church, you took it upon yourself to care for others as no one had ever cared for you. Although hurt and afraid, you chose not to spread that toxicity. You decided that no matter the size of change, it still works. 
 However, you will not fall prey to the same people. For instance, that girl you saved and this priest. How can he expect your services with no repentance or atonement? You forgive, but like hell will you forget. 
Damn…you were so sure you were over the pain of your past. That the change you made within yourself and how you treat people so no one else suffers like you, would stick. Alas, all it takes is one person to bring it down. You want to kick yourself because of the regression. Then again, the hostility isn’t your fault.
You walk into the hallway with small statues, stone walls, and large windows. The sun shines brightly through them, making the church seem prettier than it is.
“Please-”
“She said no.” Feitan stands with his hands in his pockets, the sun shining on his pale skin. It has been a few months since the incident with Chrollo. You haven’t seen any of them but have felt eyes on you, which you have deduced was Feitan. However, you learned the truth of the blanket. The name stitched on it belonged to an old clan, the Kurta, that was mutilated, tortured, and murdered by the Phantom Troupe. It disgusts you. The blanket is comfortable but still. 
Feitan, the boy who you taught to tie his shoes, gave you a trophy of his crime. You wanted to burn it, or bury it in the memory of the Kurta, yet you couldn’t. It’s a gift from the one consistent person in your life. Your protector and giver. So, you folded it and put it in a box. 
   Now, here he is like he’s done nothing wrong. Defending you and putting the man that’s been with the city for ages in his place. You’re shocked at his behavior. 
  “Feitan, surely you must understand!” 
“Shut up.” Father Rizole took a step back in surprise. Feitan was one of his regulars, if you remember correctly. This must be a surprise for the aging priest. 
You hum at the scene. Even though the rumors of what the Troupe has done bothers you, it doesn’t mean you aren’t opposed to the benefits. The priest backs up and sighs. 
“If you ever reconsider, please, let me know. We could use your help.”
“I could’ve used it too.” You end the conversation there and leave. Feitan soon follows you. He’s silent on his feet and very fast. Feitan was behind you but his quick feet caught up in less than a second. Now, he walks right at your side. 
“So, you just decide when you want to see me?” 
Feitan shrugs. “I don’t know.” 
Sighing, you turn to him and ask, “What do you need this time?” The lower half of his face is hiding under a plain cowl now. His eyes show all of the emotion needed. “I just hang out.”
  The sun is too hot for this nonsense. Sweat trickles down your face and back, becoming sticky. “So that’s why you’re here, right? I’m shocked.”
Before he can say your name, you continue. “Oh! And let's not forget the little massacre that took place, huh? Yeah, being used to heal your friend from that was really fun.”
“I didn’t.”
 You roll your eyes. “No, just that one guy. That’s who to you, again?”
“Boss.” You scoff at his short answer. Then, you think about the possibility. “Your boss? Then…doing that to the Kurta, wasn’t your idea, was it?”
“No, not mine.” His hands remain in his pockets. His hair blows in the wind slightly. You realize he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while. 
“If you could, you know, go back in time…would you still do it?”
“Yes.” No hesitation, no thought put into the answer. Just a plain as day answer and a tone that leaves no room for an explanation. 
“So whatever he wants he just gets? As long as it aligns with your twisted mind, right?”
  His eyes grow darker. “I save you.”
You point to the church. “No, no you didn’t. That guy wasn’t going to do anything to me. I had it handled.”
Shaking your head, you go to leave until a hand wraps around your wrist. “Boss takes nen. I didn’t let him.”
  Was that what that was? That tension that day that was suffocating? Remembering that day, you start to form pieces. “Would he hurt you if you didn’t go along with his schemes?”
“No.” 
Well there goes that idea. “Nevermind.”
You try to yank your wrist from his grip, but it’s iron tight. “Let me go!”
“I protect you, always. Bad people here, everywhere. I get dirty for you.” His face is indifferent but his words give it away. The plea for you to understand and realize, dare you say, his devotion to his friends. Does this include you?
Is that what it is? What friendship, this connection is? You are aware of the deeds the Troupe do. You understand why they thought it would be a good idea (somewhat anyway). 
“Thank you, then.” He lets go of your wrist which was grabbed painfully tight. He trades that in for holding your hand instead. You are shocked at first, but if you make it a big deal, he’ll stop. You don’t want him to right now. 
  Not when you feel safe. You still want to kick yourself… and maybe throw in a punch.
_____
Apparently, the Troupe have gone their separate ways for now. They don’t cling onto each other for a long period of time after a job. It’s better that way since it has a lesser chance of them getting caught. They still hang out from time to time, though. 
For you, you managed to get out of Meteor City after the argument with the priest. Feitan had gone to do another heist with Phinks, if you remember right. You took that moment to skip town. You never wanted to stay in the trash, anyway. 
  And you were right to! Everything you thought of as a child about the world outside was true! Sure, people can be rude and things can be corrupt, but you’re fed and resting. There are bright lights and kind people. It can be clean and the soap smells so good. Just the other day you got to experience a nail salon. Rather than stealing from you, the lady next to you, Jade, talked about her family. Her daughter is Ruby and her wife is Scarlet. Jade and Scarlet want another child. You offered the name Emerald. 
  In Meteor City, you would’ve had to fight. Now, you are making friends and offering beautiful names. It’s a stark contrast that is fully welcomed. 
  The sun is bright and the moon is sometimes round. It doesn’t always attract evil and can sometimes sing such a beautiful melody. There are pearls and diamonds. There are seasonings that make the food taste unbelievably good. It’s all expensive, but infinitely better than Meteor. 
And Nen is a secret here. In the city, many knew about it and used it without discretion. Here it’s different. Like a secret identity for a hero. Your nen in particular isn’t used as much as it was before. Your ability was so tiring. Pretty and incredibly useful, but exhausting nonetheless. 
  It has been a few years since you saw him, but he’s seen you. He found you quickly, too. When you came home from your office job (which you are still ecstatic about, by the way) you noticed a new painting in your house. It was dull and in black and white. The painting is of a few plants that take the center stage. Actually, they’re your nen plants. In the background is what looks like your old city. Piles of rubbish and polluted air in black swirls. There are clouds above and a dark sun barely poking out. 
  It’s sad. Beautiful, but sad. You have wondered what he meant by it. You open the door to your apartment. It’s not much and one day you want to get a house. 
  The keys make a jingle when you set them on the countertop. The apartment is still dark, so you scramble to flip the switch. “Why you leave?”
You scream at the top of your lungs. Standing there nonchalantly is Feitan, who you haven’t had contact with in a hot minute. His hair is even longer than before. He wears a new cowl that has a skull on it over his face. His trench coat looks a little too big for him but he wears it well anyway. 
  “Uh, because I live here? What are you doing here?” You set your bag down and take off your short heels. Although he’s a murderer, you still feel safe with him. 
 He takes slow strides towards you. “ Why? I looked for you and you weren’t there.”
“You knew where I was. I got your presents,” You point to the painting. He hides his face a little in the fabric. “I like it by the way. Did you do it?”
“Shut up.” You sigh and walk into your kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
 You begin to wash the rice. Your eyes switch from looking down to taking obvious glances at him. Right about now, he should be in his mid twenties. It’s amazing how long you’ve known each other. You remember him as that kid who didn’t know how to tie his shoes and him teaching you about Nen. Time flies so fast when you least expect it. 
  You crack the eggs and whisk them. The sound of the utensil against the bowl and the sizzle of the tomatoes in the pan is all that is heard. Feitan doesn’t make one sound. He opts to stare at you working and even has a glint in his eye which you think could be satisfaction. 
  “Do you still like this, by the way? I remember you snatching it.” You try not to smile at the memory. 
 “I do.” He hovers in your kitchen, just waiting, watching you do all of the work. Stingy bastard. After adding the seasonings, you could have never gotten in Meteor City, you fix him a plate. He happily accepts it and sits down on the floor. 
“I have a tab-” Oh, the memory. Allowing yourself to smile, you sit with him and eat off of his plate. “We’re sharing. ”
 He gives a slight growl but doesn’t do anything. “So, what brings you by?”
“I say hello.” You hum with a mouth full of food. “Well, hello to you too, little boy.”
He gives you a light kick. The two of you finish the plate. Both full, you just lay back and talk. 
“How long are you staying?” 
“Not long.” You’ll miss him. “Running from the cops again?”
“Need to hide out for a bit.” You nod, accepting his answer and that your connection will probably always be sweet moments. “It’s nice to have you here, even only for a moment.”
  Feitan taps you again with his foot. “I’m always here. I say hello all the time.” You know and are fully aware of what he means. His odd little gifts decorate your house. To bones, to rugs, even a china set he stole. It’s routine for him to give you something, even when you don’t see him. 
“Even though you run.” He kicks you again. The more you watch him, the more your chest tightens. He’s the only consistent thing in your life. Everything is fleeting. Your job is new as well as your relationship with your coworkers. But there is a line with them. Feitan is different.
  “How long are we going to do this dance?”
“I don’t dance.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “I mean you coming by once in a blue moon.” 
  He shrugs. “I don’t know.” You nod. “Figures.”
He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, that this whole thing is tiring. You come and go like some kind of feral cat.”
  “So?”
You sputter, “ So I don’t appreciate it.” He takes off his long coat and reveals his chest, next goes his shoes. “I sleep here.”
“You can’t use me!” He gets up and goes in the direction of your room. “Feitan!” You pick up his clothes and set them aside. “Do you hear me? I wasn’t done talking!”
  On your bed is a sprawled out Feitan. He looks at you with squinted eyes. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”
  Like always, he makes himself at home. You sigh, giving up on trying to talk to him. “Move over.” 
  He scoffs and reluctantly moves out of your way. You feel him tense up as you lay down. “This is my bed. I can sleep here.”
  You face each other as you lay down. Neither of you say anything about how close you are. This is probably the closest you’ve ever been since you helped him tie his shoes the second time. You feel his eyes on you, making you nervous. “Stop staring at me.”
  “Never sleep with someone in a while.” You know. The last time was with you, no doubt. At the time, you didn't think about it, if you remember correctly. It's hard to tell since it's been so long. 
“The couch is that way.” He smacks his lips. “No, you go.” You open your eyes. 
“Like I said, this is my bed.” Feitan doesn’t say anything about your ownership. Instead, he’s honest with you. “I’m tired.”
  Instantly, you start to feel a little bad. In the city, no child was ever able to fully sleep. It was too dangerous, especially in the more dangerous districts. Him being honest about his state, you take it as a step. 
  “If you want to, I’ll be on the lookout.” His hands are next to yours. You grab them, just like he did those few years ago. “You can sleep now, Feitan.” 
  You don’t know when, don’t know how either, but you two do end up sleeping. His eyes are closed and his breath even. Your eyes flutter open and see that he’s got slight dark under eyes and his mouth leaking drool. Feitan looks peaceful, sleepy, like he hasn’t done this in a while. 
  The next morning, he’s gone with no evidence he was even there.
_________________
  You watch on the tv screen above the bank about the attack on York New, a city not too far from you. The attack happened a few days ago but it’s still in the headlines. You don’t blame them, to be honest. It was an insane event that over two thousand people died! 
  You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm. He touches your hand reassuringly. His watch gleams in the moonlight and his suit is perfectly pressed. He's the entire package, he’s perfect. A good job, good manners, an honest man, and treats you well, too. He always holds the chair out for you and gets up when you leave the room. Just like a true gentleman. 
  When you first met, it was a classic coffee shop romance. Then it blossomed into a romantic and expensive dinner, the movies, a nighttime walk in the park, all of the classic dates. In every single one of them he was the perfect gentleman, the perfect man. You like him and how he treats you. How consistent he is. He's the type of man you can rely on. 
  Nevertheless, there is a bothersome voice in the back of your head that reminds you of someone he just isn’t. He’s not Feitan Portor. You don’t feel the contentment Feitan gives when the two of you sleep. You don’t study your boyfriend’s features like you did Feitan.
Dammit, why are you thinking of him? He’s not around and you haven’t seen him in what? Two or three years? So why think of him now. Plus, you haven’t received a gift or a ‘hello’ from him. For all you know, he could be dead.
  “Are you alright?” You wake from your thoughts and look at your boyfriend. His hair is dark, blending in with the night. Eyes kind and green, a Grecian nose, and average sized lips revealing a dazzling smile. Not only is the very essence of him suave, but his looks are also perfect. Tall and handsome, well dressed and a smooth voice. 
It's just that one five foot one pest that won’t get out of your head. 
  “Y-yeah just…it’s all so shocking. York New is literally over there.” You point past the river where more tall buildings reside in the distance.
“I know, I know.” He brings you in close to him. He places a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.” 
Suddenly, the newscaster stops mid sentence and gasps. Before you know it, the Phantom Troupe have been named the offenders that caused all of this. Two thousand people. Feitan, did you really kill that many people?
“I would like to go home. I don’t feel the greatest.” He rubs your arm, you still being tucked into his side. Your excuse was a lie to cover the gnawing feeling towards Feitan and his deeds. Although the Phantom Troupe’s original intentions were from a decent stand point, it seems they’ve lost their way. Feitan has lost his way. 
  The gifts have stopped coming, him no longer saying hello. After the last time, when you made him familiar food and sat in a comfortable silence, he disappeared. This time, there was something about it that hurt. Like he didn’t want to come around. He didn’t want to say hello anymore. Or perhaps, he died which if confirmed, you would ache beyond help. 
  “The Phantom Troupe is dead.” The newscaster said. The crowd gasped, shocked that the most feared criminals in the world are gone. Did you jinx it? Curse the little boy who needed you to tie his shoes. The boy who liked your cooking and made sure you rested. Had strong faith in you, never doubting. Protected you from the shadows and held your hand. 
  Is he really gone? 
You hide your face in your boyfriend’s jacket. Tears stream from your eyes at the thought of his grave. With the Troupe, his friends dead, you’d be the only one to truly mourn him. To remember his name beyond his violence. 
You clutch your chest. “Are you okay? Does your chest hurt?” He grabs you by your shoulders, making you face him. He’s such a kind, decent man. But he’s not Feitan Portor. 
  “I just need to rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You give him a chaste kiss goodbye. Once he leaves, your chest hurts even more. You slide down as you look around at all the menace’s little gifts. The painting, the skull, the windchimes, everything he’s given you. Why, oh why, couldn’t you stay here long enough for your gift, Feitan?
Wait, what could you have given him anyway? He’s a thief that takes what he pleases and has nothing to wish for. 
You lay on your couch and put your arm over your face. The tears refuse to stop for even just a second. You don’t know what you’re crying harder for. Feitan or the confusing feelings for him. Now that he’s gone, you can’t properly tell him. How can you explain it? 
  It’s heavy on your chest and tightens it. You want to feel his body heat no matter how hot the day is. There are no small flutters in your stomach at the thought of him. No, it's something in your heart. You want to stare at him, to memorize every feature he has. To hear his soft voice that is just a centimeter away from a whisper. Just melt in his touch, his presence. Wait, why is this happening? You barely knew him! Does that fact even matter though?
 You slip your hand in your underwear, still staring at the ceiling, sniffling at the news of his death. You imagine the future. Seeing him walk into your house and setting his belongings on the table. Wrapping his arms around you and kissing your back. No matter how long you’ve known him, his stature never fails to amuse you. He’d paw at your body, tearing off your clothes. Feitan wouldn’t hesitate to use his hands for your pleasure. 
  You trace your fingers in the direction you think he’d go. Curling your fingers inside, thrusting them in harshly, knowing that he can only be gentle in his own way. Your back arches from the couch. You swear you can smell him and the faint metallic scent that he holds. The feeling of his ragged breath on your cheek you could swear is real. 
  You moan as you take that jump you’ve searched for. Thinking of how good Feitan would make you feel. You're relentless on yourself, still going as strong as he’d be. Adding another finger, going faster and faster on your clit. Your moaning gets louder as the indiscernible amount of time goes on. 
‘ The Phantom Troupe is dead.’
You crash on the couch with one last gasp. The dream of the two of you ends in flames. The house, the passion, the years that go by in that home. Maybe even a child or two. Seeing him in the morning with a groggy voice is gone. Rubbing his eyes and saying he wants more eggs and tomatoes is no longer there.
  What would your gift be to Feitan? Memories? Sex? Food? Nothing fits. He can have those with anyone. 
  You slip yourself out from your underwear. It didn’t distract you. Perhaps if you thought of your boyfriend, it would have. But the feelings you have towards Feitan went beyond physical. What is this? What do you call this?
  Love? Time stops at the realization. It has to be that. That would have been your gift to him. Love. You cover your mouth as you admit it to yourself. 
'I love you Feitan Portor. I won’t forget you. I love your messed up hair and soft voice. For how you didn’t reject me when the world did. I will do the same for you. I’ll look past your torturous ways and miss you anyway. Maybe the world will curse you, but I’ll mourn you. Bury you so no one can spit on you anymore. I love you Feitan. 
   I’m in love with you Feitan Portor. This is my gift to you. For you to know that you will not be forgotten even though I never got to tell you, to thank you for everything. For leaving the baseball bat with me to protect myself. For painting that picture for me. All of the little gifts you thought I’d like, too. Thank you for protecting me from the priest and the wolves that hunted me every day when we were young.'
You stare at the ceiling till the earliest of mornings. It’s still dark, still heavy with the night sky. There’s some rumbling in the distance, a flash of light in the sky. You don’t bother to confirm anything. 
Just as you close your eyes, the window opens with a creak. You move your eyes to see the figure before you. The darkness covers it, only leaving the silhouette. “Why cry?”
You squint, trying to make out the features.  “Are you real?”
“Very.” It must be a lie. A cruel humor the world has. “Stop crying.” 
“I can’t. Not when you sound like him.” The figure cocks his head, that much you can see with the flash of lightning behind him. “Him?”
“Someone who can’t tie his shoes.” Your lip wobbles again. “I can tie them now.” The moon glows enough to show his face now as he steps up to you. Feitan’s delicate features peek out from his cowl. 
 You shake your head in denial. “It’s not real. It can’t be. You’re dead, Fei.” Your voice is hoarse from your sobs. 
  He looks shocked at your words. The man who looks like Feitan smacks your feet off the end of the couch so he can sit. 
“I’ll miss you Feitan Portor.” The longer you stare at the imaginary man, the more you hurt. “Well, stop.”
  He roughly wipes away the tears. “Ugly when you cry.” His face is close to yours. Since he’ll be gone by the time you come to your senses, you grab his face and kiss him. He sharply inhales, not expecting your sudden decision. 
  He growls against your lips, “Stupid brat.” 
  He feels real. He smells real, familiar too. You tell him such and with furrowed brows and a strong grip of his hand, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. “I’m real, you idiot.”
“They said you died…” You comb his hair through your fingers. It’s real, he's real . So, what’s going on? Before you can ask him, he cradles you. “Stop crying or I’ll go.”
  Your lips wobble at his threat. Rather than listening to it, you hug him. He nestles on top of you, hips placed between yours. He’s light, lighter than you thought so it isn’t a bother.
  “You’re so ugly when you cry. Don’t cry.” He holds you closer and kisses your head. Against your ear, you feel his lips move. You can’t tell what he’s mouthing. When the two of you comfortably slept those years ago, that was the closest you’ve been. Now, this beats that record. Face to face, body to body, and sharing breaths. 
  After a few moments of thunder and lightning, he kisses you gently. Not at all like the desperate one like before. Realistically, you know these feelings you have for him seem fake. You’ve only had a few moments with him. So, why are they so significant? Are they with him too? Is it possible that love can blossom quickly?
  Gentle kisses turn passionate, never wanting to separate. Little nibbles on the right places and sucks on all of the best ones. Clothes leave, not wanting to get between the two friends, those who dance around each other. For the first time, they meet. 
His hands reach your throat as he kisses you, making sure to give it a light squeeze. His weight is still on you, not hurting in the slightest. Feitan makes sure his hand reaches below and swirls his thumb on your bud. You gasp, surprised you were right about how he’d do it. Every ministration he does is exactly how it was pictured. Your hands don’t compare to it. Not by a long shot. 
  Despite his size, his hands are still bigger than yours. They reach deeper than you and are thicker too. In no time, you come, the bliss lasting a good minute before he sheathes himself inside. His thickness is more than you thought. It’s a bit of a stretch, but in a good way. 
  His gasps quicken with every thrust. You can tell that you're being loud, way louder than when you touched yourself. Feeling the rush and strength of his movements has you claw his back in ecstasy. He groans at the sensation. Finally, after this time of passion and intimacy, you both hold each other as you fall off of that cliff.
  Feitan looks into your eyes. With a softness that no one in the world could’ve predicted the torturer of the Phantom Troupe to have, kisses you. “Don’t cry anymore. Don’t cry.”
 “It’s hard not to when I know you’ll leave.” Silently, Feitan removes himself from inside you. It’s become routine, so you expect him to walk out. He lays back down, his head on your stomach. You run your fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut. 
--
 You wake up, not realizing that you went asleep in the first place. Before you can get up, you feel pressure on your stomach. Feitan rests on you still, eyes completely closed and his face peaceful. The two of you are naked and the only source of heat is each other. As much as you want to wrap your arms around him, you know he’ll react negatively or at least flinch. 
  Soon after, he stretches and rubs his face against your stomach. Like before, he drooled in his sleep. “Good morning.” 
He grunts in response and sits up on his heels. It takes him a moment to remember the night before. His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, making you highly aware of your current state. You cover yourself with a blanket draped over the couch. 
  “I have to go.” Ah, right. He’s a cat. 
He gets dressed. Once he has his boots on, you see him tie them the way you taught him. “Proud of you. You finally learned huh?”
 “Brat.” You laugh a little at him. Once he’s done you ask, “Will I ever see you again?"
He cradles your face. “I come back.” You nod, holding back tears. He studies your face and settles on your eyes. He must have realized that you were trying not to cry. His hands still remain on your face as he kisses you. He lingers there for a minute. A parting kiss, a meaningful one. 
  Something tells you that this feral cat isn’t going away anytime soon. That he’ll always be constant and you won’t be totally alone. A companion you won’t see everyday and only for a night. 
 This is the gift you’ll give him. You’ll be home for him. 
___________________
Months later, news about the Chimera Ants came out. You had already broken up with your boyfriend and heard he had left town to avoid them. Of course, you followed suit and got the hell out of there. 
  Without any plan, you moved back to Meteor City, where you thought that they wouldn’t be. Alas, that was stupid. You made a home base in the residential area. Not knowing that Meteor City was plagued by the wretched beasts. 
  By God’s grace, you managed to avoid them due to you being in the residential district. News that the Phantom Troupe were home to fight them ran rampant. The thought of Feitan made you nervous and you don’t know why. 
  Suddenly, right as you put away your dishes, the door opened. You grabbed a knife and faced the intruder. Standing there was the Phantom Troupe, who once again, barged into your home like they owned the place. 
  “What the hell?” You shout. The first one is Phinks with a wide smile. “There she is! Fei, I found her!”
  You put your hand on your hip. “Seriously, what are you doing her-you’re dragging in mud, take off your shoes!”
 “It’s only a little.” Phinks pouts. “I don’t care! You don’t live here.” 
Phinks and his friends grumble as they do as they’re told. The last one to enter the house is Feitan, who is notably holding his left arm. Without being told, he removes his shoes. 
  “Feitan…” He hasn’t faced you yet. “What happened to your arm?” 
“I’m injured too, (Y/n)!” The smiling boy with round eyes whines. You have no idea what his name is. Only that he and the rest are in Feitan’s gang. 
  “Alright, let me see.” He lays down on your clean table and says, “It’s all over. I need the full treatment!” 
  “Ugh, fine.” You grumble under your breath about the disrespect and your poor table. Finally, Feitan sits on one of the pushed aside chairs. He says, “I need it too.”
  “Big babies.” 
You heal the biggest cry baby completely. The blond, whose name you now know as Shalnark, stretches. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been hurting all day!”
  Rolling your eyes, you turn to Feitan who has been silent. He holds out his arm for you. You take the limb and inspect it. 
 “Completely shattered.” He grunts in agreement. He stares into your eyes and gives you a familiar slight smile. You notice that his friends are quiet, not a sound or word among them. 
“You guys alright?” You ask. The girl shakes her head yes and ‘whispers’ to the rest. “Should we leave them alone?”
  “Probably.” A mummy with boxing gloves answers. You’ve never seen him before in your life. 
“Uh, we’ll check the place out. Y’know, make sure it’s safe.” Shalnark shoos the little kid out and into a separate room, your bedroom. “We’ll clear this out in case you guys need it!”
  You huff and roll your eyes. Feitan’s cheeks are red and he’s glaring daggers at his friends. The girl goes outside with the remaining three to check the area. You and your feral cat are alone. 
“What are they checking for? I’m in a residential area.” 
“Ants.” 
  “They’re here? In the safe zone?” You begin to panic until he grabs your hand. “You’re safe now. They’re not in the city anymore.”
“Wha-how? What’s going on?”
  He pinches you lightly, encouraging you to heal his wounds. “Oh, right, right.” Flowers of all colors circle around. They begin to smooth over Feitan’s wounds. You take a second to wipe the blood off of his lip, letting there be some room for the petals to go. 
“How’s the other guy look?”
“She's toasted.” You smile. “Atta boy.”
  He’s healed, the petals and flowers disappear. You lick your lips at the sight of his bare chest. You didn’t notice before due to the audacity of these heathens barging in. 
  His heart rate quickens. “You leave again.”
You nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I had to, Fei. the Chimera Ants invaded. I had to run.”
“With your boyfriend?”
You let out a small gasp. “ No. How do you know that?” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You lie.”
“I didn’t lie to you. I just never said anything.”
  “Words of a liar.” You scoff at him. “I did not lie to you. I lied to him. You don’t have any business with our relationship.”
At first, he was looking at his lap. Those grey eyes of his immediately found a new target to glare at. “You’re not with him anymore. ”
“No. Why does that matter?” He begins to tap his foot lightly. “Why did you break up?” 
  “You hungry?” You start to get up until you’re tugged down. “Why?”
When you don’t answer, he whispers in your ear. “Because I fucked you?” Your face is so warm. 
“If we run, we can still make it out.”
“Why are we running?” A small voice asks.
“Because I think they need the room.” 
“Will you two shut up?!” You are two seconds away from running out of your own damn house. You stand and his hands hold you by your hips. “Tell me why you leave him?”
  “Because of you.” It’s embarrassing to tell him your feelings. Hopefully, he can read your mind or something and shut up. He sighs and stands, walking over to you without a hitch. He kisses you. 
  “That’s what you get for lying.” He’s not remorseful or even boastful. Feitan takes your answer in stride. “No more leaving. Stay so I can find you.”
“You’ll always find me, remember?”
______________
Time after that, you were stuck in charge of Chrollo’s lover or something. She’s not too bad but clearly traumatized. Anytime you’d tell her to go with you, she’d look shocked. Like she was surprised she could leave. You were suspicious of her relationship with Chrollo. Something didn’t sit right with you whenever he or Feitan came up. She’d tense up. She never talked about it either. From what you understand with the little information you have, is that she was a former member that raised an orphan and that Chrollo loved her immensely. Perhaps too much.
  From what you know, there was a big showdown on the Dark Continent and the boat that was taking a voyage to the fake one. The Phantom Troupe were on that one at first, fighting Hisoka Marrow. He was a sore loser that got humbled and decided to attack again. 
  Amazingly, only a few died. You didn’t want to know the details or anything. You can’t go through that again. So, after that news, you and Chrollo’s lover parted ways. She went on to find a kid she raised. You, on the other hand, decided to settle out of Meteor City. This was almost a year ago.
  You have an apartment now in the town where you and your boyfriend lived, right next to York New. It’s basic, not fitting any aesthetic or anything. The good thing about it is that it’s bigger than your first one. It’s two bedroom and has a good price. 
   Feitan hasn’t reappeared. It tore you to shreds. You’ve managed to piece yourself together bit by bit, but you are a hollow version of yourself. Surviving and not enjoying the little things you used to. You even saw Jade, Scarlet, Ruby, and the new child, Emerald. Even that heartwarming moment didn’t fulfill you. However, it was the first time you smiled in a while. 
  You stir the food in the pot. Since it’s a little chilly, you made soup. You put the lid over the pot, letting it cook. There’s a knock on the door. You open it and see the man you’ve waited for. 
  Feitan is in dark clothing and has a large scar on his face. There’s no cowl over him, or a large trench coat. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks at you expectantly. You realize that you’ve just been standing there, you move to let him in. Once again, he makes himself at home. 
  “How’ve you been?” 
“You leave again.” He states bluntly. His eyebrows are furrowed and has a frown on his face. 
“Bold of you, very bold.” You move around him. “Why did you go?”
“Because I’d never stay in that city forever. The Ants were gone, the world settled. So why couldn’t I? That place is gross anyway.”
  He sits on the barstool and cracks his neck. You ask a question right after he sits. “How long you here for?”
You don’t know why you asked that. He’ll only be here for a moment. A while ago, you had made the decision to accept it as your gift to him. To love and mourn him when the world won’t. When news about the Phantom Troupe hit, you couldn’t bear to hear it. Their trip to the fake Dark Continent, then their corrected course to the right one, ended in a battle with them facing Hisoka and Illumi and everything else over there. 
  It was too hard for you to think about. That doesn’t mean you didn’t mourn and that you’ve snapped out of it.
   “For good.” 
You look up into his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he’s smiling with soft eyes. You see that he has a dimple on his left cheek. “W-what about-”
“Done for a while. Maybe forever. I know I’m staying.”
   “But your friends, where are they?” He shrugs even though you see the tension. “Separate. We split for a bit.” 
  He rubs his shoulders nervously. “Can I stay with you?” 
“Wow, you’re asking? Shocked.” You tap on the counter. The weight you’ve been carrying is lightened. “Feitan?”
“Yes?” He gets off of the stool and makes his way around the counter. “You know how you give me all those gifts?”
  He nods his head. “Well, this is my gift to you, Feitan Portor. You can stay as long as you like.” 
  He wraps his arms around you. He’s hugging you. This time, you aren’t afraid to hold him back and squeeze. Maybe, just maybe, this is what home is? 
  If the Phantom Troupe resurrects, at least you know he’ll always come home. That you two will be a constant force for each other. No matter if it does or doesn't, you two aren't dancing but admitting things you couldn't. This is home, a gift for each other.  
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starpirateee · 2 days
Note
Hi!! Could you write one of the Curtwen prompts I made, yet didn’t cut it? I love your writing style!!
Honestly there was a bit of deliberation here because you put some really good ideas out there on the form, but I did say I'd write em myself, and by all means, I'll still do it! So, I decided to go for this prompt:
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Would you take a modern au from me? Can I do that?
I mean, I'm going to anyway, because I have a dire need to call Curt and Owen husbands (and also for wider Starkid lore), but i just thought I'd warn you beforehand!
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"Agent Carvour, have you found anything yet?"
Owen leaned back away from his research. He'd been looking at the same page now for a while, trying to make some sense of it. Redacted government files were hard to get hold of, but even harder to make ends of. His system had been trying to translate it, but not even he had the software for that.
"Quite possibly, sir. I have a few sources, at least."
"What have you got?"
With an air of something that was almost excitement and almost elation, Owen pulled up a series of documents and started the walk through them. "Well, sir, the easiest source was from a few years ago. There's a company in Michigan that's been trying to conduct various temporal experiments under their parent company— some kind of analyst company, I think. They're surprisingly ordinary. Anyway, apparently the experiments just… Stopped. They never drew a conclusion on whether or not their research was connected to what was on the other side."
This had all started when Chimera had dug up a series of centuries old reports about people claiming to have looked into the eyes of old gods. None of the people had known each other, but all of the reports showed some form of consistency, and all told of great, unknowable power.
So, they had decided to look into it, to see if there had been anyone else who'd dared to brave the process of trying to find an answer. Owen was one of those lucky enough to find himself with the resources to start a thorough investigation.
"They didn't finish?"
"No, I don't know what happened, but the reports just stopped one day."
"Is there anything else?"
"An american government report, but it's as hard as you can imagine to decipher. Most of it is redacted…"
"Anything worth noting?"
Owen nodded, carefully turning back and switching the tabs. This felt a little like he was giving a presentation that he hadn't prepared for, and he hadn't felt like this in quite some time. He took a breath, trying to slow down the rampage that was going on in his head. "They started in the early noughts. 2005, to be precide. That's the earliest I'd gotten without looking at those old reports from the pioneers. A branch of the military tried to build a gateway to the other side, to investigate what existed outside of our plane. I don't know names, only one. The name of the man who performed the experiment."
"They got this gateway open?"
"Yes, sir. And they sent someone through. I think there's a good reason why his is the only name they disclosed."
"Why?"
"Because he was declared dead, sir."
His screen still displayed the document, and the man's name sat among the black markouts, clear enough to see. Cross, W.D. Apparently, he'd ventured into the portal, and nobody heard from him or saw him after the date of the experiment. They gave up the search after a month, and after that, Colonel Cross was indeed declared dead.
"So, another dead end?"
"Maybe not. I'll do what I can to uncover this with what I've got available, but it was scanned, so…. It might take some time." Owen was normally confident in his abilities, and uncovering government documents was a difficult yet necessary part of the job. There was something almost genuinely enthralling about scraping off the parts that the world's governments wanted to keep secret. It felt like giving people a small yet surprisingly effective slice of justice every time.
"Keep looking, Carvour. We need to know if this is viable, or even worth our time…"
If Owen had any kind of normal life— if he and his husband didn't both do the dirty work for secret operation services— he would have a blast trying to decide how to describe the intricacies of what he'd been researching lately. The throws of domestic life confounded him to no end, which was why it was so funny when he and Curt tried to imitate that.
The otherwise simple question of "how was your day" turned into a battle of who could craft the most believable lie that better concealed what they'd actually done. Neither wanted to jeopardise their jobs, and Curt had always been brilliant at crafting stories, so it was never dull.
He started to think about what today's excuse would be. Something about pioneers, or the Oregon trail, or perhaps he could bring up that old, dead colonel somehow, that would be interesting to add to the pile.
--
"You know what I'm gonna ask already…"
By the time he got home, Curt was already waiting for him, and the mid-spring sun was starting to set. For anyone else, it was a day at the office, but the trails he had begun to uncover had really put all other days at the office to shame.
He laughed softly, having prepared this answer a number of hours before, and took up a position on the couch. "No, love, you first. I insist."
"Fine, okay," Curt answered with a chuckle. "It was nothing really, just your standard… But, the bear returned, and in about a month, I'm gonna get really rich and run off to central Europe, with a really pretty lady and a dollar store box of magic tricks."
"The same bear from last month?"
"Yeah. Bastard won't leave me alone."
"Sounds wild. Are you coming back after your plans to run off with this really pretty lady?"
"Plan is to cut myself off after three weeks, but at this rate, I might not make it two."
"Not good enough?"
"Owen, I'm a bit too gay for that." To sell his point, he flashed his wedding band, and Owen laughed harder. "Besides," he added, covering his own bout of laughter. "Who needs a fake wife when I've got my own right here?"
Owen shot him a faux-offended glance. "How dare you!"
"You might fool the guys at work, O, but you couldn't pretend you don't think about it…"
Or that he hadn't been experimenting in that part of himself in little segments since he was seventeen. Turns out he suited long hair better, and he wouldn't hesitate to admit that he both looked and felt rather good with the occasional flourish.
"You know me well..."
"I should hope so! Anyway, what're you keeping from me? How was your day?"
"Office, just like you. I've had a conversation with a pioneer, and tried to erase marker pen over the body of a dead soldier. Oh, and I tried to teach myself statistical analysis."
"Jeez, that was— that was a whole rollercoaster there, huh?"
"Mhm, I've been busy."
"You can say that again, god… So, a pioneer? Like those guys that travelled to Oregon?"
"Yeah. Quite interesting people, if a little paranoid." Something other than their oxen might be watching them would've been a perfect addition to the statement, but Owen felt that was a little too close to the line to pass, so he decided not to add it.
The important part was, apart from the knowledge that Curt was on an assignment in a month's time, both of them were none the wiser. Curt didn't need to know that he had started the deep dive into a pack of eldritch gods and was even slightly nervous about the outcome.
He didn't sleep well that night. He knew that he had right to believe that this was all one great hoax, that there was something in the water that made the pioneers mass hallucinate this supposed watcher. They all travelled on the same trail, it was entirely plausible that all of them found the same hallucinogenic and envisioned a thousand eyes watching them and their familes. It was less of a coincidence when two subsidaries of larger companies started describing details of experiments that led them to discovering other beings beyond just the watcher, of course, but he still wasn't sure whether he was privy to believing any of it.
There was something about redacted government files, though, that were meant to be believed. There was a reason they hid information from the public, and that was often because they had found something worth disclosing in the first place. That meant huge news, large press cover ups… The whole works… And that was the last thing any self-respecting government with something to hide would want. Owen imagined the size of the initial press conferences for dealings like Roswell, how many people must've shown up to that conference, under the impression that they were going to get answers, only for the press to redact the next day and claim that it was no more than a weather balloon.
He felt like he was dealing with a weather balloon of his own right now. This was something that this branch of the military clearly didn't want people knowing. The only reason they'd had to disclose any information at all was because one of their own had died looking for this information, and they had to provide the closure for whatever family he had left. Part of him wondered what they'd said, how they'd tried to cover up this man's imminent demise at the hands of another dimension. What did his family know? Was he ever given a sendoff?
When Owen tried to sleep that night, plagued with the thoughts of how much his research was worth, and what really happened on the other side, he couldn't get his head in the right place to take a suitable rest for long enough. Flashes of colour— brighter than anything he'd ever seen— danced behind his eyelids, chasing each other in sequence. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Pink. Green. White. Blue…. He didn't have much of the capacity to think, not when those colours started consuming his subconscious thought, but he spared a moment to the hope that he may get answers of his own if he stuck around long enough.
"He thinks he's brave… He thinks we don't know about him…"
Whatever dream he had been having was taken over by blurred edges and violent pangs of pain that he was sure he could feel outside of this existence. Everything faded out, leving only ruin in it's wake. Broken pieces, scrambled signals… Owen didn't even try and make sense of it, he already understood the futility of trying. There was nothing left in his mind but those colours and those voices— for he was sure there was more than one. A sickening chorus, holding perfect time with each other.
"He's foolish, if he thinks he can go further without us finding out."
"Owennnn…"
"We know what you're doing, Owen…. It's not going to last."
He'd thought about meeting his maker before. He'd thought about the possibility of death, the idea that he may not live to see another day eventually. It was hard to deliberate something so serious in his early thirties, but his line of work called for it. He knew that he had a dangerous job, and that there were few who would be able to save him if something happened.
But, he'd never considered the possibility of his own demise to this extent before. In the formless remains of his dream, where he was forced into hearing these voices talk about his death and how soon it would be to coming, he had pause for deliberation. And it wasn't good.
He had to strain to take control of his own voice, in this space that was once his own. Once so sacred, now scarce and left entirely to the whim of whatever was taking residence in his mind. This was a bad idea. All of this research was a bad idea, and he was suddenly more aware of that than he was anything else. Never before had he had such a violent urge to overturn everything he'd worked on for the sake of something this seemingly trivial.
"There's nothing you can do. It's already started. This is bigger than me…"
"We know that. You're not the only one we have heard trying to work your way into what is ours… Choose your next step carefully, Owen. I'm sure we would delight in taking you in the same direction as the others…"
Before he could really ask what that meant, he was left entirely alone. The ruin of his dream still stood strong, which was strange enough given that the voices had left him alone, but he had the strangest feeling that there was more to this landscape than just what he was being shown. He started to wander, to look around in an attempt to find the real end to all of this. His mind was a wasteland, taken over by the lack of colour and the apparently deafening absence of those voices that had only appeared a moment before. He felt empty without them, although he knew nothing more than the sequence of colours that paraded through his vision.
Blue… Purple…. Yellow…
The pattern was familiar, like he'd seen it before somewhere. And while he wasn't resting easy, he couldn't force himself to wake up, either. No matter how hard he tried, he was just left stuck, wandering the expanse until he found what he was apparently looking for.
Pink…. Green…. White… Blue…
The expanses of his mind stretched out into a road, occupied by nothing but empty space. He supposed that was mostly his own fault; he had known for years that his imagination was never one to be put on par with anything else. He couldn't so vividly picture that which others could, and he'd never really had much of a capacity to dream, either.
So, this warning was strange. Seeing such vivid, bright colours in the back of his mind, knowing that he couldn't have conjured them himself…
He started to walk the road, curious enough to want to know where it went.
"Owen?"
That voice wasn't like the ones who had left moments before. That voice had a personality, and a person to go with. It was warm, though scared. Human all the same. And Owen knew the shape of it.
"Owen?"
Owen let his instinct lead him down the road, through it's many curves and winds. Eventually, the road gave way to what could only possibly be a stage. There was a set of stairs to one side, that he let himself climb before he could think to wonder where they led, and then the familiar voice gave way to a man in the wings, staring at him with desperate, fear-lined eyes. Of course he knew the voice, and of course he had never tried to doubt himself on the matter.
He tried to advance towards Curt, but he took a hasty step back, shaking his head.
"Curt?"
"Prove you're Owen."
"I'm sorry?"
Curt hesitated, and then slowly emerged from the wings. Even though he stood on the light of the stage, it still looked like he was carefully enveloped in shadow, like the darkness was a comfort to him. Owen looked around, wondering what had made him so cautious, and whether it was still around. Had Curt seen what he'd seen? What had those things whispered to him?
"I'm not falling for it again. Tell me you're actually Owen…"
Owen frowned, not wanting to dwell too much on why Curt was so afraid to reach out to him and realise that all of this was as real as they could get it. "Curt, love, I don't know what you want me to say…" There was a certain desperation about him too. Improvisation had never been his strong suit, but he wass confident that, given the right prompt, he would be able to convince his husband that he was who he said he was, to quell any discrepancy that it may have been otherwise.
"Don't. Show me… What happened on your 25th birthday."
The pieces fit into place, and Owen nodded dutifully. He had been out in the field that day, a strikingly hot day in the middle of June. The two of them had barely ended up with three hours together by the end of it, and they'd gone out drinking to celebrate what little time was left of his birthday. He'd never been particularly big on celebrating, but Curt had insisted. They were newly married then, and getting used to the idea of sharing a life with someone else. That was one of the first nights following their wedding when Owen truly came to realise that he'd made entirely the right decision, and that there was nobody he'd rather share his life with than Curt Mega.
"My 25th… That was a home ground mission. I was in the state."
"What happened to you?"
Owen smiled, somewhere between fondness and a need to hide the melancholic air that hung about that question. He pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and huffed a weary breath of laughter. "I was trying to make my exit, but the suit jacket caught on a fence. Here…" With his sleeve rolled to just the right length, Owen held out his arm and pointed out a pale flash just below his elbow— a jagged scratch that had never quite healed right. "That's what happened after the fabric tore. Is that enough?"
Curt had known about the scar. He'd also known about the story. He was pretty sure that nobody else knew, though, so in his head, that had always been his fallback option in the event that he was ever sure Owen needed to prove himself. Those stories lined up perfectly, and while Owen had missed out on some of the details, in the grander scheme of things, he'd gotten it exactly right. He shifted, letting a knowing smile cross his face through the fear that still gripped him.
"It's really you…"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
Curt's approach was still careful, premeditated. Even though he knew the truth now, there was still something about him that screamed a lack of trust directly into his ear, and it made actually reaching out for Owen so much harder. "You… You were trying to kill me."
"What now?"
"I know what I saw…"
"I don't doubt you, but I would never… I swear it on my life."
"I know, that's why it was strange… I— What the hell's happening?" This stage was the only thing connecting the two of them to reality. There was nothing beyond it but the end of the road that Owen had travelled down, and nothing behind it but black, empty space.
Owen let his instinct take over. If the two of them were going to face the unknown, whatever and wherever this was, then they were going to do it together. They always had, and they always would. That was the way things worked, especially for the two of them, because their lives were built so heavily on the idea of distrust that any semblance of the opposite they could get, they would cling to. Normally that was exclusively each other, and so the world wasn't usually much larger than the two of them.
Their hands connected in the middle of the emptiness. Owen pulled Curt Closer to him, and the two of them stood side, performers to an unknown audience, marionettes for something larger than themselves. They exchanged a glance, and Owen registered the warm, homely spark residing in Curt's eyes.
"I think we're trapped in a nightmare, crazy as it sounds," he tried to respond, but he wasn't entirely sure where this was going to go. "I can't wake up, but I remember falling asleep last night."
"Me too. I fell asleep before you did, you were still reading."
"Right, and now there's this. Whatever this is. did you, by chance, see those colours too?"
Curt nodded. "They came before you did, before the- other you. Blue, and purple, and yellow…"
"…Pink, and green, and white..?"
"And then blue again."
Owen heaved a sigh. "Curt, there's something I have to confess. It's safe to do so now, there's little that could get in the way of what I have to admit, but this is one of those things I wouldn't be able to tell you awake, you understand?"
There was a moment's pause, in which Curt tried to work around Owen's phrasing. Both of them felt the incredibly revealing sense that they were being watched, so Curt understood that Owen had gone into the professional mindset— switching off his senses for the sake of making as much sense of something as possible. It was always how he rationalised his way through situations, and it hadn't failed him yet.
Eventually, Curt nodded again, as the words started to sink in and he started to get a sense of what was being said. "This about what you told me this evening?"
"Yeah, I'm afraid there's a little more to it than what I told you, but I suppose that was rather obvious."
A nervous breath of laughter left Curt, only partially voluntary. "I thought there'd be a bit more to it than erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier…. What the hell kinda explanation was that, anyway?"
"One I spent a good hour crafting, thank you very much. I thought it was clever."
"Better than a pretty lady and a box of tricks?"
"And a bear, yes."
"… And the bear. Right. Well, what's that mean? erasing marker pen over the body of a dead soldier, what're you saying there?"
"I've…" This is not going to get you done for. Those documents were already top secret before you saw them. And if it gets you out of this nightmare prison, then surely it has to be worth it. "I've been uncovering sealed military case files that might explain what's happening to us right now."
Curt's eyes went wide. "Fucking what?!"
"It's all part of the job. I can't… I can't elaborate. Know only what everyone else knows: that the only reason any part of this is disclosed at all is because someone died during one of the experiments."
"What's that got to do with what's happening here?"
"That's what they were researching."
That seemed to click to some degree. At least, Curt seemed to understand a few of the larger pieces, perhaps the more obvious ones. "The colours?" In his head, there was an experiment, someone tried to make sense of whatever that was in their shared mindscape. Someone— a soldier, presumably, had died in the middle of these experiments, and now Owen had gotten tangled in this mess through his agency, and the two of them had been dropped into the same nightmare.
Owen nodded. "The colours."
At the moment he said that, a loud rumble disrupted their moment and forced their attention out into the expanse of nothing. Laughter— multiple sources with varying shrieks and gasps that couldn't be placed to a single source— burst from behind the wings, and from in front of them, and from the endless expanse of black that surrounded them. A loud crack followed, and Curt swore as the stage splintered beneath his feet. For a split second, his grip loosensed, and the next time the ground rumbled, they were torn apart by the growing crack in the stage. He staggered back, and the two of them ended on opposite sides of the stage, the crack between them growing and delving deeper into the unknown.
"Owen!" He called, trying to regain his footing but falling back.
"Curt! Hold on!" Owen yelled through the growing laughter, scrambling back to reach out for the pulley system backstage. He needed a foothold on something, a way to sturdy himself so he could regroup and think. It was too loud, he couldn't think in this kind of heat, with this kind of mess, and Curt, and-
Another crack. The stage was starting to fall away from itself, split not quite perfectly in two. Owen's breath ran short. In the swirls of colour and mayhem and possibilities, he saw a way out. One chance to get this right, and to make sure that they both survived the fall while they were still stuck here. He gripped the rope tight, levering himself further towards the crack, and looked to Curt. "You're gonna have to jump it!" He called, desperation winning over any attempts to stay sane. "Don't worry! You know I'll never let you down!"
"Are you crazy?!" Curt managed, staring into the gap. "I can't jump that, it's too far!"
"Curt, before the whole place splits in half, you have to get over here!"
"What if I don't make it?"
"Trust me! Please!"
Curt backed off a few paces. Owen stood ready, one hand gripping the rope wrapped around his wrist, and the other reaching out as far as he could, waiting for a move to be made. After a singular preparatory breath, he sprinted for the gap, and pushed off from the splintered wood at the edge.
He reached out.
Owen reached out.
Their fingertips connected briefly in the space, and then Curt slipped away beneath his grasp.
Owen threw himself forward, feeling the rope worming itself free and burning his wrist in the process. He'd promised. He wasn't going to let Curt fall. And he was nothing if not a man of his word.
Curt's eyes squeezed shut, preparing for an endless fall through the ineviatble. Something laced around his wrist and he felt himself stop moving. Exerting all the caution he knew to exert, he looked up, and caught a familiar whiskey brown staring back at him.
"I've got you!" Owen breathed, and Curt fought to angle himself so that he could get a better chance to grab the broken stage floor. When Owen started hauling backwards, Curt managed to get a hold of the edge of the stage, and made it a joint effort to haul him to his feet. "You're alright… You're okay…"
Curt essentially fell into Owen's arms. Owen held on tight, like he could lose his partner at any second to the swirls and the crevice. He stared out into the emptiness, ignoring the very real pain that he could feel at his wrist but cherishing the very reel feeling of Curt's shirt underneath his hands. The very air seemed to shift. Owen wasn't previously aware that colours could get angry, but this green that flooded the space behind his eyes was pissed. He could feel it.
So was he. Pissed, and way more desperate than a man ought to be.
"Alright," he muttered once, and Curt drew back ever so slightly. He noticed Owen was staring off into the greater expanse, and hoped for all it was worth that he couldn't see something out there.
"Alright!" His voice got louder, and he tried to mask his utter despair in an authorative tone. "I get it. You hear me? I get it!"
Everything fell eerily silent. The only sound that remained was the pounding of Owen's heart in his ears. He took a breath, strangely certain of himself. Glanced at Curt. Spared his attention on the void again.
"That soldier… Wilbur Cross? That was your fault, wasn't it? There's a good reason nobody can get very far into digs like these, and it's because you strive to kill them before they do. Nobody ought to know what's on the other side, and that's why nobody does…"
"Owen, what're you doing?" Curt whispered, but to no response and little avail. Owen was lost in whatever he was about to say.
"… But, I've heard talk of bargains being made here, so how about it?"
"Your desperation speaks for itself."
Owen had to pretend that that— the voice from the middle of nowhere or what it had said to him— didn't bother him in the slightest. He steeled himself, not sure where to direct his attention but knowing he'd probably have it right no matter what he chose. "What do you say, am I allowed to make a deal?"
The air shifted. Owen didn't receive a direct answer, but he knew that he'd been allowed to continue. "If I don't continue— if I go back, and tell my people that it's an impossibility, that it can't be done— would you let him go?" Another quick glance at Curt, as if the green something needed clarification, or as if he knew what he was signing himself up for.
Curt was frozen in place, his eyes wide. He'd heard every word as it echoed in the void, and he hated what it was implying. His gaze was fixed on Owen, fear blazing through his face. "No, Owen—" his voice came out weak. As far as literal interpretations go, that was not a good one. He didn't understand what was happening, but it terrified him to know that Owen was being so calm about this, while he could be selling his life away with nothing more than a few choice words.
Owen frowned, and muttered an apology he was sure only Curt would catch. The green grew angrier, setting a violent fire behind his eyes and forcing him onto his knees as the pain flooded his body.
"You better not be fucking with me."
"No! I— I wouldn't! I'm serious! I'll call it off, I swear on my life, just… He has nothing to do with any of this. It's not his fault."
The thing considered, holding Owen firmly in place while he deliberated. Curt couldn't move— he didn't dare, lest something happen to Owen that put him in more danger than he was already in. All he could do was force himself into keeping his breath steady, and not thinking about what a single wrong move could do to either of them. His eyes landed on the friction burn winding neatly around Owen's wrist, and he decided to focus on that for a while; the only other colour in a void of blackness and green.
"Very well."
That was the last thing Owen heard. Some part of his mind just shut down, and he collapsed to the floor of the stage. He didn't hear the way Curt screamed his name, or the return of the chorus of laughter. His eyes closed, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with a start, underneath the sheets of his own bed, gasping for breath. He sturdied himself out, and once he was sure that he was real, and definitely in a familiar space, he looked over to Curt, and found him still asleep.
"Curt?" His voice was soft, but his mind was a knife point of tension. If that had gone wrong, then why was he the one to live through it ant not Curt? He tried again, biting his lip. "Curt..?"
Curt groaned. His eyes opened slowly. The relief that Owen felt hit him like a tidal wave.
For some reason, Curt was entirely surprised to see that Owen had made it through to the other side. He managed a weary smile, and tried to get his vision into focus. That was one of those decisions that he immediately came to regret. As soon as he brought himself a little more into the real worls, he noticed that the brown in Owen's eyes was stained with something else, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. Dripping down his irises was a flash of toxic, unsettlingly bright green.
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chifuyusun · 3 days
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Negai no Astro Chapter 3: Some Thoughts
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Another banger by Wakui. I'm enjoying this story and its characters a lot so far! Wakui always knows how to move me with his complex family plotlines and drama🥹Excited to see what's to come, and also afraid for the siblings and the angst that I'm certain Wakui is cooking, I mean we already saw a glimpse of it. It was resolved quickly though, yay (for now)
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The family all look so tiny and cute aw🥰I really want to see more of their past before the rebellion started, them growing up together, bonding, just soft moments..I feel like Wakui will bring these forward during fights or deaths..we saw him do that a lot in Tokyo Revengers, to pour salt on the wound 😭 Anyway, we have the number of most of the siblings so far except the 4th, 6th and 7th adopted, and as far as we know they are 12, I believe one was shown this chapter but not given a number yet, and it is 12 adopted siblings and Hibaru if I am not wrong, I have a feeling the cute girl from the promo pictures is not related to them, but to the astro power. I would like to meet some characters outside the family, I love the concept a lot as someone who has enjoyed such stories, but I wanna see some friendships etc. like in TR, Wakui knows how to write such bonds so well🥹
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+ Still no news of her..no name, no info, Wakui please..🙏🏻😔
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He's like the little "I choose violence" “peace was never an option” duck meme😭 but damn, seeing a different side to Terasu this chapter sure was interesting..he can be pretty cold-hearted, unlike his angel of a brother..but they complement each other, as one of the TR quotes that I love dearly: "he compensates for what he's lacking."
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While I stand with Hibaru on this, I need to know more about Terasu and his relationship with the siblings aside Hibaru because he does not seem to have any bit of a soft spot for them, and I wonder why. I mean, he went to the extreme immediately, but we also saw that Shio wants them dead, and who knows what else he witnessed the siblings do when Hibaru was in his coma. He definitely just wants to protect himself and Hibaru from Shio and the rest who wish them harm or want them eliminated out of the picture, but I did not like the "we're not blood related we might as well be strangers"..I understand his frustration, but adopted family is a family, and found family is a family..reminds me of the conversation between Shinichiro and Izana, when Izana insisted that blood means everything, and Shinichiro said blood does not matter, they are still family, be it adopted, or the family you choose..but also if your family wants you dead, it is a complicated situation in a dog eat dog world, as Terasu said, it's kill or be killed. I wonder what Hibaru will do when forced to face such a situation, cause surely the power of love and friendship wont stop Shio and the rest
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Hibaru and Terasu's fight was fun to read;not fun emotionally was gonna cry if they did not resolve it but like, seeing Wakui's fight scenes again, I love it + I knew Terasu's astro power is a shield, I mean it was quite obvious since he survived a whole building crashing on him, but nice to see it confirmed lol. + so they are shield and strength, interesting dynamic.
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Angel mc with a heart of gold🩷every chapter I love him more and more, I'll give him the world and keep him in my pocket🥹 I am afraid of him though, "never be so kind you forget to be clever", I hope he knows the limits of love to give those who wish him harm. but it warms my heart, how he says he loves Shio and everyone..my sweet boy, please don't hurt him Wakui..i hope some of the siblings will be on his side. I also love how his purity and kind soul reflected on Terasu and were able to turn things around and end the fight. I'm starting to doubt that Terasu would betray him (mentioning this cause I wrote before some hints that he could be a Judas kind of character later) I love angst, but I hope to not see them fight again. Also the way he sobs and calls him "jerkface" because he was so hurt that the family was called strangers..adorable precious sweet boy🫶🏻
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Angry kitty😠
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Hibaru is so cute and Terasu is like "free me I don't wanna be here"😭
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grandpa is so funny the way he's here for the tea and encouraging the fight , I hope to keep seeing more of him
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I finally know pretty boy's name! Shikaba! and the other brother is Taira, interesting to see they are presented together in both their appearances. they don't seem too mean like the other brothers. Taira so far seems like a Hanma type of character who comments about everything and enjoys the vibes lol. As for Shikaba, interesting to see his eyes are still closed 🤔
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aaand him, Kuran, he sure is intriguing, as Hibaru referred to him as "a real man among men", and it shows he truly admires him and his strength. he's been quiet so far in all his appearances, but does not seem too friendly, we shall see
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that's all, I adore Hibaru and Terasu sm🫶🏻
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mxtxfanatic · 3 days
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sorry if you're done talking about it and don't want to discuss it anymore, but for me the 'trolley problem' post was just a sad note about how xie lian's attempts to stop "the trolley" (who always has a name and we very well know about it) end up in a disaster. not because xie lian did it, but because the trolley is actually an unstoppable force with malicious intent and no one else gives a fuck or doesn't have resources to help
but xie lian also shows us that even if things end up like that, it's worth trying. it's worth it, because you might not save everyone, but might save a child. a village. a little boy. a little girl. but if you don't do anything, you'll never know
I’m gonna go ahead and link this addition to my original commentary plus this response that I had in the notes to someone else with a similar reading of that post:
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All I can say is that some of y’all are nicer readers than I, because I took that post to mean exactly what op said. If op came back and clarified something, I didn’t see it; I’m only talking about the original post and how inappropriate it is to 1) victim-blame a victim of the events in question for apparently having the audacity to not passively accept events he could influence for the better and 2) say this as a “joke” (because the blasé tone, minimalization of the actual events, overexaggeration of the victim’s responsibility for how said events turned out, and the flat-out avoidance to name what was the actual cause of everything that happens to make it into a meme format was fully meant to be taken as a “joke”).
The issue both with the trolley problem and the likening of it to the events of tgcf is that neither the trolley nor anything Xie Lian experienced are “unstoppable forces.” The trolley is not a natural disaster or the act of an omnipotent god: it is just a trolley. And not only is it just a trolley, it is a trolley that was made, owned, driven, and maintained by people. Everything that goes into a scenario where a trolley is on track to run over a crowd of people (tied to the tracks, another thing that is decidedly not a natural occurrence), is one that is 100% manufactured by multiple different people.
Likewise, while the Yong’an drought was a natural disaster, everything that led to the fall of Xianle was 100% the machinations of multiple different parties, from the rich nobility of both Xianle and Yong’an hoarding their wealth, the corrupt officials who stole aid, the corrupt religious officials who blocked Xie Lian’s followers from praying to him, Guoshi and the king for keeping all of this from Xie Lian, and to the other heavenly officials who withheld help with the intent to prey on the victims of the disaster. Jun Wu’s contribution could honestly be considered the least in this conversation, merely serving as the wind fanning the flames of a fire that had already started. None of that was a coincidence nor the fault of anything Xie Lian did or attempted to do.
Yes a big part of tgcf is recognizing that Xie Lian’s steadfastness to helping should be a personal goal, but another big message that mxtx pushes in all her works is that 99% of all societal problems can be tracked down to a few select individuals choosing to do evil because they don’t think that their greed, selfishness, insecurities, fears, or entitlements are a bad thing while most everyone else either looks the other way because “it’s not my problem,” tries to benefit because “why let opportunity go to waste?” or actively participate because mob mentality. Mocking good people for doing good under these circumstances will never be funny, sympathetic, or relatable to me.
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rookie-chenford · 3 days
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Don't Do This- Part two of Was It Worth The Risk
Description: @looby1302 This is the second part to 'Was it worth the risk'. I ended it here, because it is getting quite long, but also I wanted to do like a separate one for the months that their apart, if this makes sense lol.
Words: 2202
Warnings: I don't think there are any, but if you see any, please let me know and I'll add them.
Three days later...
Lucy groaned at the sound of her alarm blaring. She reached over and grabbed her phone, turning off the alarm. After placing the phone back on her nightstand, Lucy lays there, her arm on her forehead as the memories of their breakup resurfaced for the umpteenth time. She groaned at the memory and the tears falling down her face. Exhaustion was taking a toll on her body from the restless nights. 
A knock on her door pulls her from her thoughts. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat. "Yeah?" She croaks out. 
Tamara opens the door and stands in the doorway. "Hey, you doing okay?" Lucy props herself up. 
"Okay, as I can be, I guess." She sniffles. 
Tamara walks into her room and scoots Lucy's legs over so she can sit. "You going back to work today?" 
Lucy sighs. She doesn't want to, but she knows she can't avoid Tim forever. "I don't want to, but I need to." Tamara nods. "I mean you could always skip today and go back tomorrow." She smiles. 
Lucy chuckles lightly. "I wish, but I can't avoid Tim forever." 
"You still haven't talked to him about the baby situation?" 
Lucy groaned. "No. I don't even know what to say. I know we need to talk, but I honestly don't even know where to start. I mean, a baby won't change our situation."
"Just talk to him when you feel like it. I mean you do have like 7 or 8 months to talk to him." Tamara shrugs. 
"I know, but I do need to talk to him sooner rather than later. I mean I know he's not going to abandon his kid. We just have to figure out how to work this new dynamic, I guess." 
Tamara stands from the bed. "Alright, well, if you need someone to go with you to doctor's appointments," Tamara points at herself with a smile. "I'm your girl." 
"Thanks." Lucy smiles. "Go get ready for school or you're going to be late." 
"Yes, mother." Tamara mocks and laughs as she exits Lucy's room. Lucy shakes her head and chuckles. 
Walking into the station, she avoids as many people as possible and heads into the locker room. Lucy gets dressed and waits for everyone else to leave, giving herself a moment to give herself words of encouragement. She takes a deep breath and heads out of the locker room and towards the roll call room. Before she can open the door, Nyla is calling for her. 
Lucy lets go of the door handle and heads towards her. "What's up?" 
"I have a friend who needs a partner to go undercover with. You in?" 
Lucy thinks for a moment. She would love to go undercover and put her skills to use since she hadn't been on an undercover op in a while. But she no longer had herself to worry about. "I-I would love to, but there may be a little problem." 
"If you're worried about Tim-" 
Lucy stops Nyla before she can continue, not worried about Tim for the moment. "No, uhm, I'm not worried about him." 
"Then what's there to worry about?" Nyla questioned, not sure why Lucy was so hesitant. Usually, Lucy would jump for joy at an undercover opportunity. 
Lucy groaned and looked around. "Can we talk somewhere a little more private?"
Nyla still looked a little skeptical but nodded and told Lucy to lead the way. They headed towards one of the empty observation rooms. "Alright, spill. What's going on? You would have jumped at an opportunity to go undercover without a second thought." 
Lucy wrung her hands together, trying to form the words to spill out of her mouth. Nyla waited patiently, knowing this was unlike Lucy. "I, uhm, I'm-I'm pregnant." Lucy whispered. Nyla's eyes bulged out of her head. "What?" 
"Yea, I found out a couple of weeks ago." 
"Well, damn, congratulations." Nyla smiled. "But you don't have anything to worry about. I was pregnant with Lyla when I was undercover. You have to be a little more careful. But you and Niko, who you'll be going undercover with, are just going to be running drugs for now. Niko is trying to build rapport with the people he's in with, hoping they'll let him further into the group and find out who's supplying the drugs. But, at any point, if you want to leave, you say the word, and we'll pull you out." 
Lucy considered it for a moment. She could do it for a couple of months and then regroup once she was farther along in her pregnancy. "Okay, okay, I can do that." 
"Are you 100 percent sure?" 
"Yes. 100 percent." 
Nyla nodded. "Alright. I'll call Niko and we'll get started once he gets here." 
About an hour later, Niko shows up in the observation room with Lucy and Nyla. They review the details, what is expected of them, and how checking in will work. 
"One more thing," Nyla pauses, looking at Lucy and then turning back to Niko. "She is pregnant. So, if you feel the need to pull her out, you do it, whether she fights you on it or not. We've also gone over the risk and if it starts to become too much, she'll pull out." 
Niko nods, a little surprised at the news. "Okay. Well, as long as you're all good, I'm good." 
"I'm good." 
"Now that we're all on the same page, you both need to go get your affairs in order and then meet back here." 
Lucy left the observation room and went into the locker room to get changed. She quickly changed and headed out toward the parking lot. She barely made it out the door before she ran into Tim. Lucy quickly sidestepped him as he reached out. He quickly dropped his hand, sadness washing over his features. 
"I've been looking for you. Can we talk?" Tim was hopeful they'd be able to talk since they hadn't after the breakup. 
"I, uhm, not right now. I've gotta go," Lucy said, a little guilt washing over her. She turned to walk away, but Tim grabbed her arm, pulling her back. Lucy pulled her arm out of Tim's grasp, and he quickly dropped his hand. 
"What do you mean, "not right now," Lucy? I have been looking for you everywhere so we could talk. You dropped huge news on me days ago and haven't said anything since. We need to talk," He pleaded. 
Lucy scuffed, her eyes casting down at the concrete as she kicked her foot at an imaginary rock. "Yeah, well, I had something special planned to tell you, but you ruined that." Tears brimmed her eyes as the memory of her planning on telling Tim they were having a baby came to mind. 
A pang of hurt hit Tim in the chest. "I'm sor-" 
Lucy held up her hand, stopping him. "I don't need your apologies, Tim. Now, I gotta go. We'll talk later." She turned and walked to her car. 
Tim sighed as he walked back into the building, heading straight to Grey's office. He knocked on the door and waited for Grey to wave him in. He waved him in as he was finishing up a call. 
"What can I do for you, Bradford?" He asked after hanging up the phone. 
"Where's Lucy going?" 
Grey raised an eyebrow, confused about why Tim was asking. "She didn't tell you?" 
"Tell me what?" 
Grey sighed. "She's going undercover." 
Tim went pale. His world crashed around him as the word undercover passed Grey's lips. "What do you mean she went undercover?" Tim thought of all the worst-case scenarios that could happen while she was undercover. Their baby. How could Lucy put their baby in danger? "She's pregnant! How could you let her go undercover while she's pregnant?" Tim's voice was laced with anger now. 
Grey held up his hand. "We know. Her and Nyla talked about it and Nyla made sure Lucy was going to be okay. Nyla will keep extra tabs on Lucy throughout this operation. If at any point her partner, herself, or Nyla feels like she needs to be pulled out, she'll be pulled." 
Tim was at a lost for words now. He stormed out of Grey's office and headed towards Nyla's desk. Nyla saw the anger on Tim's face, but she wasn't phased by it. "Here we go." She muttered. Angela looked up, a confused look on her face. Nyla nodded her head, telling her to turn around. Angela turned to look and saw a furious Tim heading towards them. She turned back to face Nyla and raised her brow, wondering what was going on. 
"How could you make Lucy go undercover?" He seethed. 
"Lower your tone. I didn't make her do anything." 
"She's pregnant, and you didn't stop her," he accused. Angela's mouth hung open. The news of Lucy's pregnancy took her by surprise. "Lucy's pregnant?" 
Both Nyla and Tim ignore her. "But you sure didn't stop her." 
"Tim, I asked her multiple times if she was sure, and she was adamant about doing it. Communication and check-ins this time around are different. She can pull out in a week, a month, or two months; it doesn't matter. As soon as she says the word, she's being pulled out. The same goes for if her partner or I feel she needs to be pulled; she will be pulled." 
Tim storms off, and Angela hollers for him, but he ignores her. He can't believe Nyla let her go after finding out she's pregnant. He heads towards his shop, needing to drive around and try and take his mind off things. Just as Tim opens the driver's side door, it's pushed shut. He turns and looks at Angela, fury in his eyes. "Back off, Angela." He barks. 
"No, Tim. You can't go out on the streets like this. You need to calm down." 
"I'm fine," Angela scuffs. "Yeah, you sure do look fine. Your jaw is clenched, your shoulders are up to your ears, and there's fire in your eyes. But yeah, keep believing you're fine." Tim rolls his eyes. "What do you want me to say?" 
Angela ignores his question. "Are you driving, or am I?" Tim hesitates but pulls the keys from his pocket and hands them over to Angela. He rounds the shop to the passenger side and gets in with a huff. Angela looks over at him before starting the shop and driving off. 
They're silent for a while, listening to the radio as calls filter through to other shops. Angela is the first one to break the silence. "What's on your mind?" Tim thinks about it for a moment. Everything is on his mind, and he doesn't know where to start. "Everything," he says. 
Angela snorts. "Obviously." She pauses to wait, seeing if Tim will say anything. He doesn't, so she continues. "So," she drags the word out. "Lucy's pregnant?" Tim looks out the window. "Yeah." He whispers. 
Angela's eyes soften a little as she looks over at him for a brief moment. "How do you feel about it?" 
Tim shrugs his shoulders. "I mean, I'm excited." He pauses for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I just, I don't know. I don't know where this leaves us. I don't know if she'll ever let me be in the baby's life. We haven't talked since the breakup and I don't know what to do." 
"You know Lucy would never keep you from the baby. Just give her time. You'll both have some time to think while she's undercover. While she's undercover, go to therapy." 
Tim scuffs and rolls his eyes. "I can't even believe she went undercover." His anger was starting to bubble up again. "She-What if she gets hurt?"
"It's a possibility, and she knows that. But Tim, you also have to trust her and her instincts. Lucy wouldn't just go undercover without weighing her options. So this has to be something that won't put her in complete danger." 
Tim scuffs and rolls his eyes. "I just- I won't get to go to appointments and just be there for her. I won't get to hear the baby's heartbeat. I can't even ask her how everything's going. I don't know how long she'll be gone." His voice cracks at the end. Angela was just about to speak up when Tim's phone rang. He groans and pulls it out of his pocket, his breath catching as Lucy's name pops up on the screen. "It's Lucy." He clears his throat and answers. 
"Hey." 
"Hey, I've got to be quick, but I just wanted to let you know you're stuff is in a box by the living room. I know you know, so keep an eye on Tamara for me, please."
"Lucy, don't do this." 
She sighs. Their conversation pauses for a beat. "It's already in motion. I gotta go." She rushes. 
"Luc-" Before Tim could get anything else out, Lucy hung up. "Dammit." He whispers. Angela placed a reassuring hand on his arm. She knew this would be hell on him; all she could do was be there for him. 
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jahiera · 9 months
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see the thing about Astarion to me is I don't actually think he has a clue who he actually is beneath all of the everything he's got going on. he's got impulses, he's got drive, a will to live, he's got desires and amusements and cravings, but an actual selfhood?? no. there's a blue error screen where the person of him should be, the person -- whoever that was, I'm personally of the mind he likely wasn't good then either, but we'll see where the story takes us -- before Cazador. the man in front of us today is this mishmash of interior delight at freedom and sunlight but also capable of true unapologetic cruelty and willingness to be ugly in a multitude of ways. so he follows the impulse. he follows what intrigues and amuses, and nothing will take that freedom from him again. and he reflects back onto others the violence that was done unto him. a lack of power kept him down? now he wants to accumulate power, so it can never be turned on him again. but he also misses the sun while he's underground. he's mean and desperate and ruthless and it's interesting because he's unapologetic about it, he's unflinching about it. he's vindictive and mean and desperately floundering around throwing stuff at a wall to see what sticks in terms of personhood because who is he now. 200 years of horrific servitude and now he's just out and about and he's in the mud.
and he can be horrible. and yet when you take the routes of prying open the faaairly shallow veneer he has of smug and snark and snappiness, he'll give you pieces of the raw and the desperate -- "I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me. what you see." is a line you only get if you're earnest with him. any other path in the dialogue will have him continue the shallow persona you've come to know. and in all of that I think nothing is "this is real, this is an act," set in stone because I just don't think he even knows, I don't think he has a CLUE what's his and what's the protective measures and what's the real delight and what's the cruel mockery of his surroundings and what he's willing to give vs what he needs to hide vs what he lets slip out on accident. the inconsistencies in his own ideas and what he says and what he does. I think most everything about him is in a weird place of deeply uncertain. is it a lie? is it a glimmer of truth? for me, I like to interpret him in this weird menagerie of half-truths and shallow lies and omissions, because we've only known him a short while and maybe also he doesn't even know the answer yet. who is he? fuck if HE knows. anyways. smash.
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winter-spark · 7 months
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I notice that even though Citron's my fave, I spend more time here talking about Orange and Navel.
I think it's fear of being wrong.
#I can say with upmost confidence that everything I say about Orange and Navel is accurate#that's a joke but I do feel like I can say “whatever I want” and not feel like I'll be horribly wrong about it#I've even discussed with myself why if it turned out Orange and Navel were actually born the same year as Citron it'd still make sense#that's not my fave age breakdown but if someone else or the game said they were I'd be like a'ight that's fine I guess#I don't want to say something wrong/inaccurate about Citron tho because the thing is that no matter where I go I'm the odd one out somehow#and I don't want to know what I think on Citron might be wrong I love him and so I'm extra sensitive there#I even have a whole partial joke post that no one reacted to (okay it's a ship post but he's half the ship so...)#that shows me no one agrees with me so I should keep to myself#also tho Orange and Navel are just easier to come up with headcanons for lol#But like like like when I write Citron he's actually the least independent to himself brother if that makes sense#(I'm not sure it does... it's explained better a couple tags down but I'm not saying he doesn't have his own interests#but rather some of his interests/opinions are somewhat influenced by his brothers & he's like that the most out of the four of them)#I mean I haven't written enough Tangerine to compare him here so he might be more but then again he's very opinionated and sure of things#so who can say yet#(I say as if I've written any of them much at all. Genuinely this might not be an entirely fair comparison but still.)#Citron & his brothers#as for how I write Citron he like like has approximate knowledge & mild interest in certain things bcuz he knows his brothers are into them#which is kinda the reverse of SenriMono huh?#but to me it makes sense for Citron because he doesn't want to be fighting with his brothers he wants to be on good terms with them#so I think in the back of his mind he takes interests in things and has thoughts like: 'maybe I can talk to them about these things one day#or 'if there's a point when we're not fighting I'll ask ____ about ___'#you know?#these tags are too long#sorry for rambling#I legit could've just made a separate post with them#but then I'd be putting my thoughts on Citron on display and that'd be scary so I won't move them#I'm almost certain no one reads my tags anyway#still. sorry to the person who actually does and had to read through all this#idk why you didn't stop but I appreciate you regardless :3#by the way did you know there was a 30 tags tag limit? I just found out lol
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theloveinc · 2 years
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read so many books as a kid that i basically taught myself how to write... and now i always run into the exact same problem in every single writing class i’m ever in, which is that.... i genuinely want someone to pLEASE teach me how to write using a formula😔😔😔😔😔😔😔and no one ever will :((( 
like... i don’t wanna write conceptual, interesting, thematic, literary short stories ... i wanna write janet evanovich style harlequin fanfictions. that’s IT. 
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is it depression or is my appetite gone cause I'm preemptively preparing for when Val gives up on any progress & his relationship for real n starts givin me shit about my weight again
#i mean idk if it's gonna happen but#it might#why do i care what he thinks? ain't that the question#n i mean i know it's not even abt my appearance rly cause he gave me shit about it in my source body too n that one's full heroin chic#it's just abt the control#he likes me weak & he likes it when i starve myself for him#thank fuck our sleep meds make me hungry as hell cause otherwise i wouldn't be eatin at all#just need to make sure i have easy food available so we get some actual nutrition too instead of just junk#even the junk's better than nothing though!#it's not a body image issue for me atm but i'm kinda worried it might turn into one#like pllllssss we already had one ana stint we rly don't need another go at that it fucking sucked#n as a bonus doesn't even make us lose any weight cause our metabolism's fucked lmao#so it'd literally just be me eroding our insides for nothing. except like a brief feelin of satisfaction i guess#i can get that in less dangerous ways too tyvm#so i rly rly hope val's up to speed w/ the way it'd get legitimately dangerous for the body him included. n also make him feel like shit#if he wants that type of control there's other shit he could have me do. nothing i'd like but at least w/ less or no physical harm included#kinda wish my life wasn't like 80% harm management at this point but. it is what it is.#at some point it's gonna change. someone else is gonna take over.#all i havta do is keep shit running w/ as little long term damaga as possible til then#can my sedatives fucking do smth my heart's still fucking pounding for no reason uggghhhh#spdrvent#disordered eating cw
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