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#I have almost as many thoughts about him as he has insults for other people
aaagustd · 15 hours
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room for two | jjk: prologue
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a series from the "Misfit Parent Collection"
⌞banner and dividers by @itaeewon
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title: room for two
pairing: heir/retired boxer!jeon jungkook x single mother!reader
genre/rating: angst, slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, ceo!jungkook, divorced!reader, aged up characters (in their mid thirties), surrogacy/pregnancy au; 18+
summary: As you signed the contract, you thought all your problems were solved—and so did he. However, no one can predict what life will throw your way. 
Despite your prejudices, this journey will reveal that the bond you share goes deeper than your womb.
wc: 1.7k
warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions a sh*tty parent, character death, borderline inappropriate workplace relationships but nothing has exactly happened, swearing, mentions boxing & knockouts, people either like jungkook or they hate him, let me know if i missed anything 
release date: april 26th, 2024; 10:50pm est
note: the prologue is here !! i hope you all are ready for this ride. it's been a two year journey for me and i'm so happy you all get to join me. we have a lot to cover and so many people to meet. i hope you're ready !!
series masterlist | main masterlist | inbox | join the taglist? | read on ao3
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One year ago.
The doors open to reveal the setting sun on the horizon. Shades of orange and red paint the sky as the faint presence of stars patiently awaits the giant orb's departure. 
Jungkook steps out into the crisp evening air without regard for the gusts that violently displace his perfectly styled bangs. 
His urgent steps have nothing to do with the conditions. After a long and exhausting day, he tends to enjoy a nippy pre-spring breeze. 
When he approaches the exit, his energy is almost completely drained. The first step he takes out of the building is like an instant charge, and the wind hitting his face is like a slap that brings him back to reality.
If that isn't enough to wake up his brain, the sharpness of his security personnel's tone will surely have him alert. 
Two men of large stature guide him to his Porsche. He can only imagine the twinkle in his eyes when they land on his baby—resting idly while she waits for him to claim his rightful seat behind the wheel.
Jungkook nearly bypasses his guards as he takes excited strides toward his vehicle. However, a muscular bicep forms a barricade directly in front of the young CEO, reminding him of the dangers of wandering ahead of them in public. 
Only authorized staff are allowed on the premises. Still, even a company as large as Sport's 5 cannot dictate who stands on a public sidewalk. Fortunately, most of the people who choose to spend their time out here are harmless. However, he still understands the importance of safety.
Some people are so desperate they'd do anything to get a picture with the Big 5—a panel Jungkook used to sit on before being offered an executive position. 
Sport's 5 comprises five individuals who have had exceptional professional sports careers. These are mainly retired sportsmen and women who still love the game.
Jungkook was offered a seat at the table before he could properly hang up his gloves. Everyone wanted to know his story, his input and opinions, and his firsthand account of the KO he delivered right to Joey "The Rhino" Reese.
Although it was the best highlight of his career, he's never publicly spoken on that night out of respect for the legend and his family. It'd be pointless to keep retelling the events when they're online for everyone to see. 
Despite keeping his mouth shut about the fall of an icon, he still receives his share of hate from the boxer's diehard fans.
"Coward!"
He hears a man shouting insults from across the street, but most of his words are inaudible due to the distance. It can't be anything good because a family walking by promptly covers their child's ears every time the man opens his mouth.
Like on any other occasion, Jungkook shrugs off the spew of hate and gets into his car, wishing security a safe night. The engine roars as he pushes start. The sound of purring grasps one of the men's attention, and he turns around with a point, a silent compliment that Jungkook accepts with a nod as he speeds away.
With only headlights in his rearview mirror, Jungkook zooms through the city—wondering where his journey will take him. After the day he's had, home seems like a great option, but he isn't in the mood to spend a weeknight surrounded by silence in a large penthouse.
So, he drives downtown, aiming for any bar without a crowd. That shouldn't be too hard. Most people have work tomorrow, and they aren't in the mood for a party, and neither is he. 
A distraction is all he needs to ease his restless mind.
He reaches the heart of the city and parks near the curb. Heads turn as he exits his vehicle, wondering who he could be. With his shades on and natural hair color, it's hard for people to recognize his identity these days. 
Still, everyone is captivated by the car he steps out of. They could care less about his appearance. The real attention grabbers are the wealth that oozes from his body and his Porsche. Without money, he's just another guy.
Jungkook adjusts his suit as he scopes out the area. He notices the establishment across from him has upbeat music blasting through the speakers. Judging by the people lined up, waiting to get in—it's more of a nightclub than a lounge.
He sighs as he eliminates one place after another, eventually deciding to walk the strip and see what it offers. 
He nearly misses it as he strolls aimlessly, but tucked in the corner—dark and rustic—is just what he's been searching for.
Somewhere laid back and secluded; just somewhere you go for a drink and maybe a few rounds of pool.
He can count the number of occupants in there on one hand, so before anyone can figure out who he is, he steps inside and removes his glasses. He scans the room and acknowledges those who randomly lock eyes with him.
Jungkook can't help but admire the way this place is set up. The outside doesn't do it any justice; he can't even remember the name on the sign. He'll have to check on his way out; tell some of his colleagues to visit so it can gain some more customers.
He'll have to look into that another time, though. He wants to spend only a little time here, so he makes his way to the bar. 
Two women stand on each side; one is at the register printing someone's bill, and the other is already waiting for him to order.
The greeting he receives is warm and sincere. One you will only find in a few places. He offers a smile, the best he can give, at least.
"Hey. Just a Jack & Coke for me," he replies.
With a slight nod, the bartender begins preparing his drink. 
While Jungkook waits, he starts going through his phone, checking texts he missed while he was up to his neck in paperwork.
Most of them are from associates, his trainer, and…
His assistant?
The number isn't saved because he hasn't used it, but he sees the name in a previous message—letting him know he's speaking with the woman he hired four months ago.
6:54 pm (###) ###-####: Hi! I think I dropped my earring in your car when we grabbed lunch today. Can you check?
He doesn't have to.
Jungkook saw when the earring "fell" between the center console and the passenger seat. It happened right after its owner dropped it there. 
He can't help but laugh at the whole thing. Had he remembered, he would have said something immediately, but he has to admit that the low-cut blouse was a great choice. He can't count how many red lights he almost ran, sneaking glances.
Usually, he has no problem keeping things professional, but with all the flirting and teasing over the last few weeks, the temptation is becoming a bit unbearable. 
Maybe he should take a detour on the way home and return the "lost" item.
7:49 pm Him: I'll look in a few
After he sends the message, his drink is placed before him, and he abandons his phone without hesitation.
"Tab or no?"
"No, love. That's it for me.."
He places a twenty-dollar bill on the bar and pushes it toward the woman behind the counter.
"Keep what's left," he insists.
She takes the cash and walks to the register, leaving him alone to sip his liquor and bob his head to some classic rock.
As soon as the glass touches his lip, he takes a large sip, and regret washes over his entire body.
"What the—"
"Don't drink that," the other bartender whispers sharply.
She rushes over and takes the glass from his hand, instantly replacing it with a new one.
"She's trying, but…"
Jungkook understands entirely. She's still learning. Everyone's been there, even him.
"Don't worry about it," he insists. "Let me grab my wallet—"
She declines.
"It's on me, sweetheart."
Before he can argue, she walks away and disappears with the horrible drink her coworker made.
Despite the little hiccup, Jungkook is glad he found this little gem. It seems like a nice place for a good time, but also somewhere to unwind. There's a bar, a dance floor, a billiards table—and whoever is in charge of the music has great taste.
He'll definitely be back, maybe even tomorrow.
The next sip he takes does exactly what it's supposed to do. "Goddamn it."
The liquor makes his mouth and throat tingle as it travels into his body. He can feel his body relaxing already. Now, all he needs is a shower and—
His phone buzzes in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
Once again, the number is unknown. 
Jungkook intends to ignore it, but his thumb accidentally presses accept. He stares at the screen in disbelief as he hears the faint sound of someone's voice on the other end of the call.
Slowly, he brings it to his ear and acknowledges the caller.
"Hello?"
"Hi, son."
Great, this is just what he needs right now. A call from his father, someone who basically disowned him for chasing the same dream that led to his wealth and success. 
"Yeah, I'm kind of busy. Can I call you back?"
He lies so he can end the call. There isn't a drink here that can give him enough strength to put up with this man. He can't deal with this tonight, and he won't.
"Hold on!" he shouts through the phone, making Jungkook release a defeated sigh. 
He's entirely prepared to hang up in his father's face if he has to, but he'll entertain him for a few more seconds.
"Look, I don't know who pumped your balls up so large that you have the audacity to call me, but—"
"It's your grandfather, Jungkook."
There's a pause.
There is a long, dreadful pause. It's as if Jungkook already knows what he's about to say, and unfortunately, his instinct is right.
"He's dead."
103 notes · View notes
kwillow · 6 months
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what kinds of gestures would theo appreciate the most? it seems like he's generally uncomfortable by expressions of affection (physically especially) and it would be neat to know what would actually make him feel happy. perhaps little gifts and such? would he keep said gifts? so many thoughts about this Strange man
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I thought of some other common ways people demonstrate affection and make friends besides physical touch: kind words, gift-giving, acts of service… all to try to show that Theo is a dire prick.
Theo is an intractable misanthrope - miserable, spiteful and prone to seemingly random acts of aggression. He is deeply uncomfortable with other people, and if he can't keep them at arm's length, he goes for the throat (or, at least, snaps at their ankles with petty jabs and demeaning remarks).
I think I have erred in mostly drawing his Amaranthine self with his mother or Hyden, two people he greatly admires and devotes himself to. Frankly, Theo does not appreciate affectionate gestures (or any interaction) from anyone besides his chosen person(s). He doesn't trust such gestures, he doesn't really want them, and he feels a certain bitter satisfaction in throwing kindness back in people's faces.
Being kind to him might keep him from being as hostile as he would be to someone unkind, but that's not a guarantee. He often sees kindness as manipulative, condescending, self-righteous or just plain stupid. He may be increasingly cruel to someone of a gentle disposition just to see how much they can take before they snap back and show their "true colors", vindicating his initial dislike of them. Trying to bond with him is almost as likely to earn his ire as antagonizing him. All that to say... I wouldn't waste gifts on him if I were you.
(Now, obviously, he is capable of bonding with people, but it takes some very rare and particular qualities and circumstances. If someone is one of his chosen few, he does appreciate gifts - and keeps them forever - and he may be grateful for flattering words, and maybe he will even tolerate being touched, but he doesn't demand or expect much in the way of affection. Being trusted and relied upon is often enough for him to feel fulfilled in companionship. BUT I've prattled on enough for now, don't you think?)
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luveline · 2 months
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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 
cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 
A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 
“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 
“I wanna see Max.” 
“She has to be here somewhere.” 
That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 
Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 
Steve frowns at you worriedly. 
“Who died?” asks a new voice.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 
“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 
“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”
“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 
“Is it awful?” you ask. 
“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 
“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 
“Dustin. He’s outside.” 
Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 
He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 
“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.
You school your impression. “Like what?” 
“Like you like him.” 
You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 
She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 
“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 
“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 
“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 
“He was touching you a lot.” 
“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 
“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 
“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 
“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 
You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 
“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 
Oh, boy, you think. 
As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.
From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 
Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 
“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 
“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 
“Steve.” 
“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 
“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 
“What?” he asks. 
His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 
You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 
“Are you okay?” 
“What?” 
“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 
“I sounded weird?” 
“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 
You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 
“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 
“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 
Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 
You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 
After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 
“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 
You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 
“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 
He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 
“You were in the way of the light.” 
“That what it was?”
“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 
“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 
Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 
“It’s good.” 
“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 
He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 
Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 
You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 
You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 
He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 
You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 
“You okay?” he whispers. 
You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 
Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 
A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I really like you, Steve.” 
He stares at you. “…But?”
“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 
“I thought…” And of course he did. 
“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 
He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 
“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 
“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 
“Yeah.” 
Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 
“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”
“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 
“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 
“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 
“I like you too!” he says loudly. 
A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 
You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 
“You okay?” he asks tightly. 
“I’m sorry.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 
You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 
He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 
“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 
You nod vehemently. 
Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”
—♡—
The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 
A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.
“I think I might melt.” 
“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 
“You can be my parasol.” 
“Your what?” 
“It’s a sun umbrella.” 
“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 
You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.
He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 
If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 
“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 
He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 
“That’s perfect.” 
“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 
“No… I’m thinking.” 
“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 
“I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 
You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 
“It’s a question.” 
He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 
“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 
“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 
“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 
His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 
“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 
“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 
His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 
You tip your head aside to catch your breath.
“Better late than never,” you joke. 
Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️
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normspellsman · 1 year
Text
A Lesson in Pinky Promises
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part one | part two (wip)
pairing: jake sully x daughter!reader
genre: angst to fluff & comfort (from jake to reader)
word count: 3.3k+
warning(s): mentions of reader being bullied for looks – reader has 5 fingers, kids being mean, physical + verbal harassment, reader being sad, reader feeling like she doesn’t fit in, jake calling reader babygirl (cuteness overload fr), mentions of self inflicted injuries, mentions of children hurting you, reader looks up to jake + feels unworthy of being the heir of the olo’eyktan title, jake being angry, cursing, both jake + reader crying, & reader having self-loathing thoughts / being mean to herself
request details: here!
taglist: @aonungsmate @optimisticblazetrash @dearstell @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @minkyungseokie @universal-s1ut @goodiesinthecloset21 @amortencjja @blushhpeachh @sweetirilly @liyahsocorro @arminsgfloll @iwannahaveaprettyaesthetic @bigdikzaddy @cheyehc @ihave500hubbiez
word bank: sempul — father, sempu — daddy (term of endearment), ‘evenge — girl, sa’nok — mother, eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, toruk — last shadow; large winged creature jake rode in the first film, syulang — flower, & ‘angtsìk — hammerhead titanothere
note: the reader is the eldest child of jake in this fic & is around 11-12 years old. set wayyy before the events of atwow. there will be a part 2 to this since someone requested something similar to this but w/ lo’ak & i couldn’t pass up the opportunity 🤭. be on the lookout for part 2 <3
You wished that you were more like your Father.
Your Father held this kind of confidence wherever he went. You guessed being Olo’eyktan would do that to you over time. He took every insult and objection to his rule with stride. You wanted to be like him one day, especially since you were the next in line for his position when he decided it was time for him to step down.
But it was hard. Really hard. The children around your age loved teasing you for your ten fingers and ten toes. They often pulled at your pinky and tried to pry it from your hand, giggling at how it looked and your reaction to it, hissing in pain as they basically almost dislocated the finger. They also reached out towards your hairy eyebrows, plucking at them to observe the strange hair further. Many had also called you demon or fake due to your mixed heritage. They loved making your life hell and took joy in hurting your feelings with their harsh words. Of course they never dared to do anything like that around your parents or siblings, deciding to do it whenever you were alone or training.
You felt insecure about your five fingers, often trying to hide it or make it look more like the other four fingered hands of your fellow acquaintances. You’ve injured yourself a couple of times trying to hide your pinky, bruising it or spraining it multiple times. You never meant to hurt yourself but it always happened whenever you did it. You just wished you looked more like the children your age than your Father.
You absolutely loved your Father and looked up to him so much. But it was hard looking like him when his past kind had caused so much pain and suffering to your Mothers people. It was a constant reminder that you had to work twice as hard as compared to your younger brother, Neteyam, to get the acceptance of The People. They always had their eyes on you, watching your every move, ready to criticize everything you did wrong. Nothing was ever good for them. Not good enough to live up to your Father, to be the next leader of your clan.
You never told your parents about how you felt or what the children your age did, dealing with it yourself. It wasn’t very good that you kept it to yourself but you felt like you had no choice. You didn’t want to worry your parents with what was happening, didn’t want to seem weak in front of them. You wanted to be strong like your Mother and Father, strong heart like those before you. Surely both of your parents experienced more traumatizing things throughout their lifetime than what you were going through. You could handle it yourself.
But, alas, you failed at having it handled.
Hours prior to where you were currently, crying as you cradled yourself with your knees to your chest, was probably one of the worst things you’ve experienced throughout your whole twelve years of life.
The regular group of bullies that teased and hurt you had taken it to the extreme, encircling you as they pushed you around and yelled insults at you, eventually grabbing at whatever body limb they could and punching it with as much strength they could muster. At the end, you were covered in bruises and bloody. You were pretty sure your right pinky was broken, it being stepped on by a kid you sure was named Keno.
You limped all the way to your secret hideout, delaying going home as much as you could. You had the plan of cleaning and patching yourself up with the limited supplies you had stashed away before going home late into the night. You were probably going to stay hidden for another hour or so, way past when you’re supposed to be home and were probably going to do that for the next couple of days before you healed completely. You didn’t need either of your parents to fret after your every move if they found out.
What you didn’t know was that your Father had seen you rush out into the thick foliage of the forest, calling out your name, which you didn’t hear. So, he followed you.
Jake had tried his best to stay quiet, expertly stepping over rogue twigs and sticks that were strewn across the forest floor. He kept his breathing steady as he urged forward, staying far enough behind you so that your enhanced senses couldn’t sense his presence but close enough to still see where you were going. He knew that he probably shouldn’t be following you, but his Father instincts were telling him to follow after you. There was something clawing at Jake that told him you were not okay.
Growing up, you told your Sempul everything. There was nothing that you kept from your Father and he felt his heart swell every time you ran up to him, bouncing with excitement as you hurriedly told him everything about your day or something new you just learned in training. He’d always scoop you up in his arms and tickle your belly before lending a listening ear to you, hanging on to every word you spoke. Jake missed the days where you would come to him and just talk. Recently, your visits had become few and far in between. Of course he acknowledged that you were growing older and needed to keep some things to yourself, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something else that was keeping you from reaching out to your Sempul. And he knew that following you to wherever the hell you were going was most likely going to reveal the reason why. At least, he hoped so. He just wanted to help you. You were his little girl and he’d do anything to make sure that you were safe and sound.
You stopped before a small clearing, discreetly checking over your shoulders in paranoia. You knew that no one had seen you rush out to the forest, but still, you needed to make sure of it before continuing on. Once you were satisfied that no one was around, you continued forth.
Jake wasn’t necessarily shocked to say the least when he saw where you were going. He was pretty sure that some kids came out here to do whatever the hell children did, but didn’t suspect you to be one of them. Lo’ak seemed to the one who would.
A few years back, when still dealing with the aftermath of the RDA’s equipment and all the shit they left behind, the clan had decided to leave alone some of their labs or established campsites, marking it as outskirts of the forest where children were not allowed to visit. And you had claimed the closest one to Home Tree. Well, it wasn’t completely yours but you were the one who frequented it the most so you found it suiting to call it your hideout.
The Olo’eyktan shook his head as he watched you open the metal door with a small grunt, walking inside while holding your side in a pained expression that Jake missed as your back faced towards him.
Every inch of your body ached. You were more than certain that multiple bruises covered your azure skin and that scratches from your bullies' pushes and nails littered its expanse. It sucked. Being treated this way by people who you were supposed to lead one day. Feeling like you weren’t enough to become clan leader when the Great Mother deemed it necessary. It all made you feel like perhaps Neteyam was more deserving of the title, albeit him being only eight years old. In your eyes, he was the perfect image of what a true Na’vi should be. Four fingers on each hand and foot, no eyebrows on his brow bones, and he practically oozed confidence and leadership whereas you, you were you. A five-fingered freak who will only ever be seen as outcast, alien, and a monster. Your entire existence was a reminder of what the sky people did to the natives of Pandora. Of what they stole from them. Of the lives they greedily took. How could you be a leader to people who only ever saw you as such? Who didn’t even want you there in the first place?
“Fuck!” You hissed, hot electric pain shooting up your entire body as you attempted to clean the wounds scattered across your skin. It didn’t help that you only had one working hand as well. It hurt too much to move your right hand, your pinky always wanting to follow its fellow fingers in whatever movement you did. So, you opted to just use your left for addressing your wounds, which was a much harder task than you thought.
Fucking pathetic, you thought, getting angry at yourself. You couldn’t take one little beating without crying and groaning in pain. What kind of future leader are you? You’re supposed to be strong. Take beatings in stride.
You were abruptly pulled from your self-loathing thoughts with a loud cough, making you freeze in your spot. As your eyes slowly traveled to your Fathers figure in the doorway of the metal infrastructure, you knew that you were fucked. Like, really fucked.
Anxiety exploded within your chest, causing you to gulp, trying to swallow it down so you didn’t seem weak in front of your seemingly impenetrable Father. He was everything you wanted to be. Everything you couldn’t be.
“What is this?” He asks, voice surprisingly calm. He hadn’t been able to properly see your figure when he followed you through the dark forest, not seeing the full extent of your injuries. He didn’t even know that you were injured.
“Uh, nothing, just…got done with sparring and needed to clean myself up,” you responded, eyes never meeting those of Jake’s. You knew better not to. For if you did, you’d spill everything that happened to you and how you felt. You could never lie to your Sempul, which is why you tended to avoid him whenever you got into another scuffle with the other children.
Jake puts his hands on his hips as he stands there, not believing your words. You knew he wouldn’t. Your Father was great at knowing whether or not you were telling the truth, the avoidance of his gaze being one of them. His shadow from the door seemed towering and all consuming as it nearly reached your dangling toes from where you sat atop of a metal table.
“Do not lie to me, ‘evenge,” he grumbled, face scrunched into an unreadable expression. “What happened? Why are you bleeding?” He continued, serious concern laced within his voice. Jake didn’t even need to take a handful of steps before he was in front of you, kneeling to match your height.
You refused to speak, eyes looking everywhere except for your Fathers face. You just couldn’t. You needed to be strong, strong heart at this moment. For if you didn’t, you’d feel as if you were too weak for your birthright.
The man in front of you sighed out, moving his head to try to catch your gaze, “Baby girl, please. Tell me what is wrong so Sempu can fix it,” he pleaded. He was so desperate to help you, you could hear it evident in his voice.
You shook your head as tears stung your eyes, tightly screwing them shut to prevent them from spilling out. But, your Father pleaded with you again.
“Please, baby girl. What happened? Why are you hurt?” He softly asked, tears pricking his own waterline as you refused to tell him anything. He felt like he did something wrong for you to not want to tell him what happened. Like he failed at being a Father. Was he not there enough for you? Did he say something to you that made you scared to open up to him? He racked his brain for a million things.
Hearing the crack of emotion within his voice is what persuaded you to break in front of your Father, tears continuously falling down your cheeks as they escaped from the corner of your eyes.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Jake cooed, bringing you into his arms, now fully seated on the cold floor as he brought you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you, gently running a hand through your hair in hopes to calm you down. Sobs racked your body and Jake felt helpless. He wanted to help you so badly but he couldn’t do anything without knowing the reason you were upset. It broke him to see his little girl like this.
“It’s okay, princess. Whatever it is, I swear Sempu won’t be mad. I just want to make it better,” he whispered, gently and slowly rocking from side to side, something he did frequently when you were a toddler and had trouble falling asleep. It never failed to make you sleepy and passed out in his arms when you were smaller.
Eventually, you caved and told him everything. How mean the other kids are. How they like to pull and tug at your pinky. How they routinely pick at you and beat you. How they beat you an hour prior and probably severely hurt you. How they love calling you colorful names. How small and insignificant they made you feel. You told him how inadequate you felt as the heir to his title. How much of a freak you were and how the People deserve a true leader, someone like Neteyam. How it felt like the whole world was on your shoulders. You let it all out. And by the end, you ran out of tears to cry and your body stopped shaking, hiccups escaping past your lips as you laid there wrapped up in your Fathers arms.
Jake listened as you cried and sobbed out how you felt and what was going on. How you felt like you had to hide what was happening in order to seem strong and worthy of being a leader. How you wanted to be strong like him and Neytiri. How you felt like you needed to deal with all of this on your own in order to feel like you deserved the title of heir to the Olo’eyktan throne. The more you spoke, the more Jake felt his heart break into two. He felt awful for not noticing how you were struggling. He was your Dad, he was supposed to know when you weren’t feeling well and coke comforted you. But instead, he became too consumed with his duties to the clan and neglected you in the process.
“Oh, my little star, I am so sorry,” Jake utters, tears falling down his face as he finally got you to break and bare your troubled spirit to him. He felt saddened at how you felt but angry towards the children who relentlessly teased you about your differences.
“You are not a freak or a monster. You are my daughter. A product of your Sa’nok and I’s love. You are a part of me as you are your Mother. You are a result of a story that will forever be known by the people of Pandora. You are the new hope for the future. You are every part Na’vi as the rest of your siblings. You are the fruit of those who came before you and proof that you are meant to be here, to be the next leader of your people,” he gently said, tone firm and serious. He meant every word that he said.
“Your spirit is strong, so is your heart. Strong heart,” he added, making you pull away from the safety and comfort of his neck to face him. You’d never thought you’d ever hear those two words come from his mouth. You never thought you were worthy enough to bare those words on your shoulders like your Mother and Father did. You felt comforted by his words, validated by them.
“I need you to promise me that you will tell me the next time you ever feel this way again, baby girl,” he commented, bringing up one of his hands as he extended his last finger and balled the rest up into a fist, “Pinky swear it.”.
Your eyebrows furrowed at the action, not knowing what it meant or what you were supposed to do. “A what?” You questioned, voice hoarse from all the sobbing you did.
“A pinky promise,” Jake answered, a small smile on his face, “It’s something humans did back on Earth. They did it to make promises together and ensure that no one breaks it.”.
You nodded in understanding, bringing out your non-injured pinky and wrapping it around your Father’s, giggling as he slightly tugged your intertwined fingers to make sure that the promise you made him was stable and unbreakable.
“You cannot break this promise, ‘evenge, or there will be consequences,” Jake commented, tone mixed with playfulness and seriousness.
“What will happen if I break it, Sempu?” You asked, slight worry laced within your voice. Your Mother always warned you to stay away from tawtute things, or things that were foreign in general. So Jake introducing something human to you made you nervous. A million things ran through your head as to what could happen to you if you broke the promise you just made with your Father, temporarily distracting you from your chaotic thoughts.
Jake smirked, the tip of his fangs poking out from his lips and catching on the flesh of the bottom one. “If you break the greatest oath there is, the pinky promise, then the great toruk will come down and snatch you up!” He exclaimed, head going in between your neck and shoulder to blow raspberries into your jugular, causing you to shriek out a giggle.
Your feeble attempts at trying to push away your Father from your sensitive neck were all for nought, shrieky giggles escaping your lips as he continued his attack on your neck as he brought up his free hand to tickle the side of your stomach, his other one still intertwined with your pinky.
“Okay! Okay!” You panted, finally pushing your Father from your poor neck, “I won’t ever break our pinky promise!”.
Jake laughed at your reaction, smiling as he brought up your still connected pinkies, “Good, I’d hate to lose you to the mighty toruk.”.
You giggled out in response as well, wiggled your small finger from your Fathers much larger and stronger one, placing it back into your lap. You had a big smile on your face, matching the one of your Fathers as he lovingly gazed down at you.
The relaxed atmosphere didn’t last for long though, your face dropping once the painful throbbing in your body returned. You forgot about the events that happened hours prior, your Father being a great distraction. But nothing sweet lasts forever.
Jake seemed to catch onto your now saddened mood, frowning along with you. He hated seeing you in pain, whether that be physically or mentally. He hated it.
“Want me to help you clean up, syulang?” He softly asked, pushing some of your braids away from your dropped face, hooking two of his fingers underneath your chin so you looked up at him.
You only nodded in response, wrapping your arms around the back of your Fathers neck before placing your head on his shoulder, seeking his warmth as comfort. Your body was no longer running on adrenaline and all of your injuries seemed to hit you like an ‘angtsìk. Pain and sleepiness was the only thing you were able to feel in the moment, letting out a little yawn against your Fathers azure skin.
“Okay, baby girl,” he whispered, putting one of his hands behind your head as he began to sit up, “I got you. Just sleep, okay? Sempu’s got you.”.
And sleep you did. You soundly slept as Jake quietly and gently cleaned the blood and dirt off your skin, promising to deal with the children that did this to you. No one would hurt his little girl and get away with it. He’d personally see to it that they won’t.
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gatorbites-imagines · 3 months
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Hiya I saw your requests were open so I was wondering if we can get a Tim Drake x male reader
The reader is a bigger older guy, like not too older than Tim but reader does have a streak of gray hair due to the stress of taking care of Bruce's dumbass.
Reader is kinda sly and fox like.
Idk why but I can see Tim liking someone older than him
Tim Drake x older male reader
Headcanons
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I feel like tumblr has been deleting requests from my inbox, I swear some go missing. This one didn’t though, so here you go.
It’s been a while huh? Who’d have thought getting ready to graduate would be so stressful.
Reader is about Dicks age, so around 26.
You didn’t meet through hero work or anything like that. You were actually the CEO of a larger company called Aces co. It had been in your family for many years, and your father and grandfather had worked with the Waynes.
So, when you took over at 18, you started working with Bruce Wayne, even though you thought him nothing much more than a himbo at the time. Later, when Tim took over, you’d work side by side with the younger man.
One way or another, you learn Bruces secret identity, and soon you end up mixed up in the vibrant and extremely stressful world that is heroes and vigilantes, you’ve lost count how many times you have had to cover for any of the batclan.
You almost burst into tears when you see the first grey hairs appear at your temples. Your father had gone grey much later in life, and here you were, 24 and greying, all because of the bats. Of course, it wasn’t all the bats, running a billion-dollar company was stressful too, but they sure didn’t help.
The media called you the fox prince, because of the sharp look in your eyes and how sly and underhanded you could be, insulting someone straight to their face and they would first realize days later. Or somehow tricking someone into revealing all their secrets to you.
None of the bats can ever seem to reach your level of mingling and information gathering, even Bruce who has been doing it longer than you’ve been alive.
You never become a hero, or a vigilante for that matter, but you do get involved every now and then if needed. You didn’t take over Aces co. for no reason at 18, you have always been a genius, but a sly and cruel one in the eyes of many.
Unlike Bruce, you don’t feel a soul deep duty to save the world and save as many people as possible. You simply do what you can, without putting yourself in too much danger. Which mainly resolves to you gathering too much information, and enough blackmail to have the entire congress of America and the EU buckling under for your whims.
You are an extremely cold and calculated businessman as well, to the point where underhanded companies like Lexcorps won’t work with you because they know you’ll rip them apart and leave them with nothing.
It was your cruel but very effective business methods that drew Tim to you, especially when it turned out you were a lot more friendly behind closed doors. He did get to hear you complain about him and his family a lot, and it gave him a good laugh to see Bruce open a bill for your hair treatments to get rid of your greys.
The alliance between Wayne enterprises and Aces Co. only grows stronger between you two, and you end up closer to Tim than you’ve been any other bat, even Dick, despite the fact that you two are the same age and have been around each other the longest.
It ends with you going out of your way to score the best deals for (Tim) Wayne Enterprises, and Tim finds ways to benefit (you) Aces Co. Its like flirting and foreplay at the same time between very powerful rich businessmen.
For some reason I can imagine most of the batfam is shocked when Tim and you started dating, whilst some of them aren’t surprised at all. Bruce is uncomfortable in the beginning that one of his former business partners is dating his son, until someone (most likely Jason) points out that you aren’t even 30 yet and took over your company the moment you turned 18.
Your relationship is kept a secret for the media, mainly to keep the drama and paparazzi away. You aren’t a very publicly affectionate person, and Tim doesn’t really like mingling with the media if he doesn’t have too, so it’s a win-win.
The two of you don’t go out of your way to be super secretive though, you just aren’t all lovey dovey all over each other. Some people may notice you getting a lot crueler and colder to those trying to cross Wayne Enterprises, and Tim striking down hard on anyone who tries Aces Co.
It’s assumed it’s just cuz you two are both young CEOs who are trying to strengthen the relationship between your companies. All your mutual friends and families knows its cuz you are both protective and a little possessive.
You are most likely the one in the relationship with the most experience since Tim has spent most of his time being a vigilante, so you’ll have to guide him in the beginning. He’s a great and enthusiastic learner though, so Tim probably ends up doing all kinds of research.
He lovingly calls you his old man, or jokingly calls you a cradle-snatcher, since you look older than you actually are cuz of your greys. It probably causes some drama online when your relationship finally gets out, until people are like “He’s literally only 26, he’s just greying early”.
Tim will comfort you when you end up with your face in your hands because of those comments, weeping for your once beautiful and not grey streaked hair. He loves it though, and always tells you.
You tell Tim he likes it cuz of his daddy issues, and he ends up being all “maybe so”. Doesn’t stop him from loving it though, or loving to see that foxlike glint appear in your eyes when you are about to strike on a deal.
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rynfiles · 6 months
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dad next door !
✎ᝰ — your brand-new apartment has brought you peace, calm, and freedom. but no one mentioned of a father of a two
★ — satoru gojo x gn!reader
★ — word count: 1.6k
★ — genre + warnings: fluff + dad!gojo, gojo is in his early twenties (21-23), gojo is a nervous mess, megumi and his smart antics, tsumiki is y/n’s number one fan
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The space is small, yet livable. Your new apartment brings you this sense of freedom and independence from your loving, yet overbearing, parents. As much as you love them dearly, the thought of continuing to live under their roof was going to drive you mad. Which led to your brand new apartment, not the best but you made do with your stay.
As you continue to unpack your things, you hear noises coming from the other side of your living room wall. You ignored them by putting on your headphones and playing music as time passed.
Yet some hours passed, only three, and the noise continued. You moved closer to the wall to decipher what was creating such a loud noise. The only thing you could make out was a loud TV, yelling from multiple people you assume, and children. Your heart grew soft and sympathy grew in your heart for the assumed noise of children, since you know how children can be, especially at young ages when their emotions run rampant.
Though, as much as children softened your heart, the noise was becoming unbearable and you wanted your first day in your apartment to be perfect. You planned to be nice, introduce yourself, and ask your neighbor to possibly lower the noise coming from their apartment.
You paused your music and took off your headphones. You grabbed your phone and headed out the door, only making a few steps to your left until you reached the next apartment door.
You knocked gently, as you waited you heard the noise more clearly. You realized it was an adult and a child going back and forth while the TV was playing a children’s show. You heard some of the argument and giggled to yourself at some of the insults that were sent.
You continued to wait yet the door hadn’t opened nor had there been any indication that someone was going to open. You knocked again, a bit louder this time, and someone, you assumed was the adult, yelled that they were coming. Not long after, the door was opened and you were met with a man who had a staggering height, but that didn’t bother you.
The man had hair as white as the winter snow, which was decorated with those ball scrunchies and small heart clips that should be found on a small girl, not a grown (potentially over twenty) man. He wore a fitted tank top that had a dad joke on it and black shorts to accompany the outfit. His face in particular was graced with lashes that were thick and lay beautifully above his blue eyes. Also, his youthful face is currently covered in stickers galore, many of dinosaurs and flowers.
He greeted you with a smile, it brought youth to his face and gave sincerity, and apologies for taking so long to answer.
You reassured him that he was okay and also introduced yourself. You explained to him how you were his neighbor but also reported to him the noise from his apartment was bothering you. You tried not to come off as rude, since it is your first day.
He apologizes almost too quickly, mild stutters as he speaks, “Sorry sorry, my two- I mean these two kids have been hauling my ass since seven am.”
“I assumed it was younger children that were in there. Though, could you do me a favor and turn down the TV as well? The whole apartment doesn’t need to hear what you guys are watching.”
The man turns in the direction of the TV and lightly smacks his forehead, “Ah, that must’ve been Tsumiki with her runway model shows. I don’t know why but she always excuses that she has terrible hearing and always has the TV-”
“What about Tsumiki?” A young boy with spiked hair appears behind the man. The boy wears an expression that debates whether to tussle with the tall man or mind his business. With his presence now here, he chose the first option. Yet the stickers and hair clips placed on his hair and face don’t make him serious enough to take.
“Kid-”
The boy scrunched his face, showing a sign of annoyance to the man in front of him. “My name is Megumi, Meh-gu-mi. Don’t try to be all “mister cool” cause you think our new neighbor is hot.”
The man’s jaw dropped and all you could giggle at the compliment that was given. You spot his cheeks beaming with a light shade of red but disregard it as the man clears his throat. “Megumi, do me a favor and stay out of adult spaces.”
The boy sucked his teeth, “You were literally a child not many years ago, in dog years if you count.” The boy mumbled the last part but it was loud enough for the older man to hear.
The two males continue to go back and forth until a small girl approaches next to the small boy. From the height alone she could be the eldest of the two children, and her face was also decorated with stickers. It was cute to see the tall male and the two children behind him covered in all kinds of stickers on their face and their hair styled in hair clips.
The girl comes over to see what all the commotion is. But instead, she turns to you and immediately starts complimenting you, she smiles with such fondness to your beauty. She starts to compliment your hair, even if it is simple for the busy day, your outfit, and how you look so perfect. She believes so deeply that you came out of a magazine and all you could do was thank her and smile back. The girl just seemed all admired about you, even if she only met you about two minutes ago.
She turns to the older male to ask, “Can they join us for dinner papa Gojo?”
The boy scoffs at the question, “Don’t give him any ideas, he might scare the new neighbor away.” The blushing from earlier returns and the older man, named Gojo (?), seems to be slightly offended at the boy's remark.
The girl ignores the boy and pleads with Gojo, you continue to watch the two children and the man banter with one another. The interaction seemed to look serious from an outsider’s perspective, but up close, it was adorable watching them interact. Even if the boy seemed very annoyed with the entire situation, the girl poked his cheeks and played with his hair to uplift his mood, while the man told the two children to turn down the TV and check on the food cooking.
Gojo brings his attention back to you and smiles nervously, he laughs nervously as well. He brings his hand to comb through the back of his hair, “Sorry about them, they’re not usually this noisy on a Friday afternoon. Especially Megumi, he’s usually playing with his figures with Tsumiki, never this intrusive.”
“Don’t worry, I have younger siblings and we bicker quite a lot, so I get it. But I will admit that you guys are an adorable little family.”
The man blushes quickly but tries to hide it quickly, “Ah, thank you.” He grows nervous and lets the air become this sense of nervousness. He will admit, he wouldn’t have thought to have a neighbor as stunning as you and comfortable around his children. Then again, his two children take too much of his time to even pay attention to the people in his environment.
He clears his throat, “Umm, you don’t have to join but Tsumiki, the little girl, is gonna keep asking about dinner and I’m already in trouble with her. If you don’t mind, you don’t have to, but you can join us for dinner if you’re not too busy.” The blushing on his cheeks stayed yet you notice his ears turning into a light hue of pink as well, nervousness is ruining this man.
You think for a little while, letting the man watch you think and his face shows more and more signs of nervousness. You answer with a nod and a small smile, “I don’t mind at all. It would be nice to learn some faces in this town.”
Gojo seems more than happy to hear your acceptance, “We’d love to welcome you, Tsumiki loves making new friends and Megumi could get a friend or two. Geez this kid.”
You gave a small laugh and thanked him, you turned to make your exit until Gojo stopped you. “Oh umm, by-by the way, I didn’t get to properly introduce myself. I’m Gojo, umm Satoru Gojo. I’m right next door, literally, if you need anything.”
“Oh thanks, it was nice talking to you Satoru, and your two kids I assume, Megumi and Tsumiki?” The way you said his first name had Gojo going from a blushing mess to a flustered, stuttering mess. He feels heat rising in his cheeks and ears, embarrassment adds in as thinks that he shouldn’t be this nervous around his new neighbor.
“Yeah, that’s their name.” He pauses and lets his nervousness settle between the two of you, “Umm, well it was great to meet you y/n, and uhh gotta get back to finishing dinner, two hungry children aren’t the prettiest sight to see.”
“I would love to be the judge of that tonight,” you turn to walk away from his doorway and wave him goodbye, “have a good day Satoru, see you tonight.”
Gojo waves back and closes the door once you step into your apartment. He roughly combs through his hair and sighs heavily, “I don’t know who’s gonna end me first, these damn kids or dinner with y/n.”
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★ I got this fanfic idea from this fanart actually ! I thought gojo and the kids were so cute with their stickers and clips on their face and hair 🫶🏽
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© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝗋𝗒𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗌. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽
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bakuhatsufallinlove · 2 months
Text
Omae Part 2 Electric Boogaloo
Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of my post Omae: Complexity of Self-Expression and Intimacy in the Japanese “You.” In honor of it, I’m doing a follow-up post.
Why? Because I made two claims in that post:
“as far as I can tell, Izuku is the only person Katsuki has ever used the pronoun omae (おまえ) towards in-canon”
“Furthermore, he has only used omae towards Izuku on three occasions.”
I prefaced both with “as far as I can tell” because I had some doubts that Katsuki’s use of omae was exactly that exclusive, but I knew it was pretty damn exclusive, so I went ahead and wrote the meta anyway. And I still stand by my assessments of how he uses it and what those moments mean.
But I was wrong on both counts.
Katsuki has used omae towards people other than Izuku.
He has used omae towards Izuku on five occassions, as of chapter 409.
Of course, chapter 409 wasn’t released until months after I wrote my pronoun meta, but at the time of my post, I had in fact missed one pivotal omae directed at Izuku that occurs much earlier in the series.
I wanna talk about those two extra omae towards Izuku and who else he has used omae towards. Much like Katsuki, I am a perfectionist, so if I'm gonna revisit this topic, I'm gonna go all the way.
So, I went through 409 chapters and catalogued every single time Katsuki uses a second-person pronoun.
STRAP IN, BUCKOS.
An Exhaustive Analysis of Bakugou Katsuki’s Second-Person Pronoun Usage
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These are all the “you” pronouns Katsuki has used in the manga. We’ll go over them one-by-one and talk about who he uses them for, when, and my thoughts on why.
First, a note about rudeness: In many languages, and certainly in Japanese, familiarity and rudeness go hand-in-hand. In dictionaries and on grammar websites, you’ll see advice about using a term only with “people above you” or “people equal to or below you.” In general, you are either talking up to someone (polite speech) or you are talking down to them (casual speech). Excluding outright derogatory language, talking down to someone is the same as treating them as your equal.
Talking up creates or maintains distance between parties. Casual speech, familiar terms, and directness are nuances that generally get introduced into relationships as they deepen. Basically, being close to someone gives you the “right to be rude” to them. To speak this way with a stranger or people who are your hierarchical “social superiors” is considered rude in part because you lack an established (or equal) relationship with them.
I mention this because I think some people are under the misapprehension that for Katsuki to show someone he cares, he would have to speak respectfully towards them—that is, talk up to them. That simply isn’t the case, and in fact such behavior might convey callous indifference instead, because switching from casual speech to formal speech with someone you have history with puts distance between you, pushing them away.
Instead, there are more nuanced ways to connect and affirm bonds. Katsuki using omae rather than temee, for example, is not him being more polite, he's just being less insulting. He is still talking down, and one could argue that by refusing to talk up to anyone, Katsuki treats everyone equally. I mean he is still a foul-mouthed little monster, but you know, at least he’s consistent about it.
Anyway, keep this “right to be rude” in mind.
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As mentioned in my first post, temee is basically Katsuki’s default second-person pronoun. If he’s addressing someone directly and he isn’t using one of his mean nicknames, it is almost guaranteed to be this word. This graphic is the only one that is not exhaustive, featuring just the top three.
Temee is derogatory; it is often translated as “you bastard,” and even when it’s not, its presence encourages translators to slather a veneer of rudeness across the sentence as a whole. Unlike the other pronouns we’re going to talk about, there is basically no scenario where you could use temee and not come across like an asshole. You could use it with friends or family to joke around, but you’re still being an asshole, just a funny one.
And... can we just acknowledge the vast gulf between Izuku’s 62 and runner-up Todoroki’s 14? Obviously Izuku is the protagonist, so it makes sense that much of the dialogue we are shown from any character is about him or directed at him. But it’s also just really funny.
No single use of temee is particularly notable since it's so common, but it is obvious why these two are at the top of the list: Katsuki has a lot of scenes with them, and he considers them his rivals. As a result, they tend to throw him into a tizzy often.
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Anta is a contraction of anata. If avoiding a “you” pronoun entirely is the most polite way to refer to someone, anata is arguably the next most polite way. It is considered polite towards someone of “equal or lower status,” but can seem distant—you hear it in commercials when the narrator has to address the audience, “you, the customer.”
Anta strips away that distance and expresses either familiarity or contempt, depending on how you want to read it, which makes it pretty fucking funny that Katsuki uses it for his mentor figures. It is worth noting that anta is significantly less offensive than his typical temee and arguably even omae. A normal person would never use anta towards their boss or teacher—or their lifelong idol, for that matter—because it is talking down, which puts them on your level. But Katsuki’s whole persona is built around rebellious superiority, so out of all the options, he affords All Might and Best Jeanist the least offensive pronoun he can stomach using. Essentially, “I’m not gonna be fuckin’ polite but god, fine, I’ll be LESS rude, I guess” while still maintaining plausible deniability.
I also wanna note that there are instances where Katsuki technically uses temee towards All Might and anta towards Izuku, because he uses them in the plural form to refer to both of them at once. It’s actually pretty interesting to see who is framed as the “primary subject” of his scolding based on which pronoun he uses.
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Chapter 257
All Might is the one droning on and on, so Katsuki’s response pluralizes his All Might pronoun anta into antara, lumping Izuku in with him. Basically: “stop wasting my time and get to the point (and that goes for you, too, Deku).”
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Here we’ve got him pluralizing temee and, between All Might and Izuku, it’s definitely more the Izuku pronoun. So this reads a little like “dammit Deku you kept this secret so badly I found out and then you swore me to secrecy but you’re STILL UTTER SHIT AT HIDING IT so you are MAKING MY LIFE EVEN HARDER (and you, All Might, don’t you fucking know better??)”
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Aaaand now we’re at the good shit. Okay, let’s break it down.
Ochako
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Chapter 36
Katsuki addresses Ochako with omae at the very start of their Sports Festival battle, and this is in fact the first time he addresses her personally with a second-person pronoun. It’s a great writing choice: unlike every other fight we’ve seen Katsuki in so far, he isn’t busting out his typical boisterous insults. Rather, what he says reads as a measured assessment of her as a threat, and omae contributes to this. Had he used temee, he might still have come across this way on the whole, but the use of omae as the first word out of his mouth—when the audience knows he uses temee—sets this moment apart even more.
The text of Uraraka vs. Bakugou isn't ambiguous: Katsuki takes Ochako seriously, immediately, when no one else does. This is of course a rejection of sexist assumptions about girls, but it is also because Katsuki is smart. Kaminari’s battle is the foil to this fight. Where Bakugou succeeds, Kaminari failed, having been too sexist, cocky, and just plain dumb to properly assess his opponent and the danger they pose to him.
I said in my first post that Katsuki’s omae towards Izuku immediately after Deku vs. Kacchan 2 reads as him addressing Izuku as an equal, and I would say the same is true here.
After Ochako tries to execute her plan and Katsuki accuses her of colluding with Izuku, he uses temee towards her. It’s his standard choice, of course, but the change feels a little loaded in hindsight. She might have been afforded a different pronoun once, but she quickly gets lumped into the temee pile at least partly due to Proximity To Deku.
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Katsuki talks the most shit when he’s on the ropes—a strategic, cocky camouflage for his vulnerability. We know from his thoughts watching Todoroki vs. Midoriya that at this moment, he was pretty worried he was at his limit. But Katsuki also likes a good challenge, and he respects people who can give it to him, so in gearing up for the climax of this fight, he calls her by her surname.
The progression: omae + mean nickname → temee → surname.
In later scenes, he addresses her with his typical temee, which just goes to show you that Katsuki really picks and chooses his moments.
Or, as All Might put it:
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Speaking of picking and choosing his moments, this next one was a delight to discover.
Jirou
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Chapter 182
As with Ochako, this is the first time Katsuki uses a "you" towards Jirou personally. To be precise, what he uses is a sound-shifted variant of omae pronounced omee (written variously as おめえ, おめー, and おめぇ). We’ll talk about whether that means anything later.
This occurs during the school festival when Jirou belts her heart out suddenly. Katsuki thinks back to how the band had criticized his improvisation and her specifically telling him not to do it during the show. So he says out loud, to himself, “omee ga surun kai,” for which I think the funniest translation would be, “OH BUT YOU CAN DO IT, HUH??”
The official English translation is “hypocrite!” which isn’t bad, but yeah, he is being such a grumpy little sarcastic baby about it, it’s very funny. Just muttering complaints under his breath, with no actual ill-will attached. The fact that he uses omee reinforces the sense that this is not a serious complaint; it’s good-natured ribbing and contributes to the reader’s awareness that Katsuki likes and respects Jirou.
While Kaminari and Sero mischievously try to trick him into participating in the festival, Jirou earnestly asks for his help while acknowledging his skill.
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Chapter 171
On top of outright asking "onegai" (please, but literally: "a request"), the verb construction she uses (やってくれたら, yatte kuretara) frames his participation as a favor; kureru is basically “to do for the benefit of someone else [often to your disadvantage or inconvenience].” And then she personally works her ass off to make their performance the very best it can be.
Later during the Joint Training Battle, Katsuki relies on her, uses a nickname for her (to her annoyance), and saves her. Kirishima and Kaminari both astutely comment that the festival band reinforced Katsuki’s trust in his classmates and his willingness to work with them towards success.
In this moment during the festival, Katsuki is letting Jirou shine, because each of them doing what they do best is what makes the performance a triumph in the first place.
But the boy’s still gonna be a bossy little tsundere about it.
4th Grade Bullies
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Chapter 62
In Izuku’s flashback, little Katsuki uses omaera (plural form) towards the 4th graders who pick a fight with him.
You might be thinking, “Hang on, haven’t all the omae uses so far been for people Katsuki likes or at least respects? So why is he using it for these two?” And you’d be right, at least when it comes to present-day, teenage Katsuki using omae, because it’s no longer his default.
Flashbacks to Katsuki and Izuku’s childhood tell us that Katsuki’s default peer address as a kid was most likely omae, and that he switched to temee as he got older and became more of an obnoxious little shit. I emphasized in my first post that omae seems softer coming from Katsuki because it’s a departure from his normal way of speaking. The flashbacks show us a time when he was... kinda just a regular kid using language common among boys his age.
Still, there is a “cool tough guy” air to this moment, because omae can also come across as contemptuous—which is how Izuku uses it towards villains in present-day. Izuku uses boku for himself and kimi for peers, the combination of which tend to be seen as kind of soft and boyish, rather than macho and cool. Little Katsuki uses the boastful pronoun ore for himself and omae towards the bullies, who are both older and therefore technically "above" him.
So Izuku marvels at Kacchan, who talks big and tough like a grownup. Kacchan who can do anything, who stands his ground, fights to win, and invokes the heroic ideals of All Might.
Izuku
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Chapter 9
The first time we see Katsuki call Izuku by his name is when we learn the origins of the nickname Deku. It also happens to be the first time we see Katsuki address someone with something other than temee. This scene shows us a glimpse of what their relationship looked like before it totally fell apart: before Katsuki nicknamed him Deku, he called him Izuku. And before Katsuki started hurling insults and screaming “you bastard” (temee!) at Izuku all the time, he used a different “you” word for him, too. Little Katsuki addressed him as a little boy would address a peer or a friend.
It made me wonder… is the aftermath of Deku vs Kacchan 2 the first time Katsuki has addressed him as an equal since they were little kids?
And, furthermore, little Katsuki uses the sound shifted variant, omee.
You might be surprised to learn that temee itself is a sound shifted variant of temae (手前, てまえ). Temae literally means “before the hand” and historically, it was a humble first-person pronoun, meaning “me, who stands before you.” Omae (お前) literally means “the one before [me],” it was historically very polite and only used for extremely high-class people. Somewhere along the way, temae became a second-person pronoun like omae, and both started to be perceived as quite rude.
Tough guy Japanese speech patterns are epitomized by sound shifts and bitten off words. Supposedly, this dialect originates in Tokyo’s historic Shitamachi area, which is characterized as rough and working class in sharp contrast to the wealthy, high class Yamanote area.
So, does omee mean something different than omae? Maybe, but not always. Does it mean something different when someone says “Thank ya” rather than “Thank you”? Or when someone says “y’all” rather than “you all”? Not exactly, but… does it feel different? It can.
Little Katsuki’s sound shift links this moment to our last example:
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Chapter 409
As you acquire language, you develop a personal relationship with it informed by your experiences. More than just dictionary definitions, you gain cultural and emotional associations, and that impacts how you interpret media and other people. I don’t think anyone can say that omee definitively conveys something different than omae, but I do know that when I personally read Katsuki use it in 409, the shift feels like casual fondness. Like letting down your guard. A reassurance spoken softly. It somehow feels just a bit softer than if he had enunciated omae.
Years ago, Katsuki used it to tease Izuku about how he can’t do anything. And four hundred chapters later, he uses it to say “I won’t get in your way anymore.”
You should read pikahlua's really, really good meta about what this line means.
Whether it was intentional on Horikoshi’s part or not, I think it is a meaningful callback. These are the only two times Katsuki has ever used omee towards Izuku. It emphasizes how he has changed, yes, but it also ties in the context of his own past "uselessness" and how he has surpassed it, that he won't ever again be "a weakness others can exploit" to get to Izuku. But also, as pika says:
(And I read that he’s ready to let Izuku be the main character.)
The only other time Katsuki has used omee is towards Jirou, when he affectionately teased her for being a hypocrite while also making sure she got her time in the limelight.
And what does Katsuki think in the next chapter?
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“Izuku, do your best.”
Izuku gets his time in the limelight. They each brought their own strengths to this final battle, and Katsuki has held up his end. He wasn’t a burden, he didn’t hold Izuku back—he came back from the dead, saved their hero, and took out All For One. Now Izuku has to do what he does best.
A lot of the things I said in this post simply reiterate the meaning of the text itself, and that's because the nuances in Katsuki’s dialogue support the narrative. They reinforce what the story tells us about him and his relationships, and I think that's pretty amazing.
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aestherin · 1 year
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privacy
34: one mistake
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When did it all start?
Ah, it was when he first heard your singing voice during eleventh grade.
It was the during the time of the day when most students would flock to the cafeteria, rushing to eat their fill after half a day's worth of academic torture. Even before then, he already disliked crowded and hectic places. And so, he went the opposite direction of everyone.
Turns out he wasn't the only one with that idea.
The sweet and enchanting voice of a nightingale was what welcomed him the moment he arrived at the school's courtyard. Not rushing to eat lunch just to hear this was worth it, he concluded.
He didn't even know your name at the time, for you two were not in the same class. And when you turned around — good lord.
Your face was beautiful, but it wasn't familiar at all. It was odd, how this was the first time he saw you. He thought for sure that with an appearance like that, if he had ever met you prior, he wouldn't be able to forget you.
Was the school really that big for you two to miss each other every single time?
"Oh. A person. Uhm, hi?"
Fuck. Even your speaking voice was attractive.
Kunikuzushi was damned.
And he has been, for many years. Even up until now.
The present him looked up at nowhere, quietly laughing at himself.
How pathetic.
'You've liked her since you were still students, and you still haven't got the guts to even confess.'
'You're both famous people now, hundreds of thousands of people — maybe even millions — wanting the two of you... yet you're still stuck simply being her friend.'
Boy best friend, he argued with himself. But Scaramouche himself also did not know if that was better or worse.
"I have arrived," he heard a smooth voice. Kunikuzushi instictively frowned. This? This was the voice of the man you fell for?
He almost rolled his eyes. He could do better than this guy in front of him. He bets Ayato couldn't even sing.
"Sit."
Ayato looked around the area but found no chairs. "Where?" All he could see was cemented grounds, ramps, and curves. Why did they have to meet at a deserted skateboarding area anyway?
Scaramouche smirked. "Ah, sorry. I forgot you're a rich boy. We can't have you sitting on the dirty floor now, could we?"
It was as if a tick mark appeared on the taller man's head. Feigning a smile, he breathed, "Did you ask to meet me just to insult me, bastard?"
"Wow. Was it that obvious?"
"No, not really."
"I'm just getting back at you."
"Pardon? I don't even know you, aside from you being a celebrity. This is the first time we've met and suddenly you say you're getting back at me?"
"Shut the fuck up. You insulted me first."
"Hah?"
"You getting together with [Name] so easily was the biggest insult I've ever received in my entire existence."
Oh.
Now, Ayato was no idiot. Of course, he immediately realized the underlying message of Scaramouche's statement. Was that why this man called for him? Did he receive news of their so-called 'break-up' and was now planning to tell him that he's going to pursue you now that you're not in a relationship anymore?
Ayato's eyes followed Scaramouche as he stood up from the metal rail he was previously sitting on. Meanwhile, the shorter one looked and turned away, seemingly looking at a distance.
"I knew it was all fake, by the way," he started. "She accidentally tweeted about it on her private account, and I got to see it before she deleted it."
"Since when?"
"That was even before your drama was released."
"That was a long time ago. You knew yet did nothing?"
Ayato was confused. If Scara had feelings for you, why didn't he act on it even after he found out that the thing you had for him was all a fraud? It was not something that he could comprehend.
Not with his way of thinking.
Kunikuzushi, on the other hand, begged to differ. He believed himself to have done the right thing.
He has already kept his affection for you to himself for several years, surely a few weeks, months more wouldn't be that big of a deal, right?
And so he stayed. Stayed observing, kept contemplating — remained being just a friend.
"Of course, the thought of having her for myself crossed my mind at that moment..." He smiled fondly. "...but I still didn't go with it."
He suddenly turned around, not giving Ayato the opportunity to retort.
"Because despite the fact that it wasn't real —"
Scaramouche sighed.
"— even the archons know how in love she was with you."
That left him speechless. For a seemingly inconsiderate and rough guy to say those words...
How can he remain calm? Another person who has romantic feelings for you just told him about your sincerest sentiments for him.
"Why are you —"
Ayato cut himself off with a forced gag.
"What the fuck?" He glared at the man who just punched his gut. He unconsciously hovered his arm over the pained area; though it wasn't too powerful, the sheer unexpectedness of the punch was enough to make it sting.
"Just because she loves you doesn't mean you get a pass. My anger won't vanish quickly, airhead."
Airhead?
Did... did he just insult me?
Me?
Yours truly?
This made Ayato raise a brow. "Oh?"
"Why not punch me in the face then? Scared?" Ayato challenged with a devious grin.
A sarcastic laugh was not what he was expecting in return.
"Are you dumb? With my strength, I am more than capable of landing a punch on your face that would take more than weeks to recover," Scaramouche smirked. "What if [Name] sees it? And her, being the angelic being she is, would ask you about it. Then you, being the conniving blabbermouth that you are, would tell her my name."
The fuck?
"She would be mad at me. That's the least thing I'd ever want."
"So that's why you punched me in an area that isn't visible."
"Precisely."
Ayato made a face. After a while, he attempted to get back at the other man with a punch too, but failed miserably. "Oh? Why are you hitting me back?"
"What kind of question even is that?"
"I thought you knew you deserved that punch in the gut," Kunikuzushi stated in a matter-of-fact tone, both hands inside his pockets. To Ayato, it seemed like the man in front of him was bigger than him at the moment. He was sneering down at him.
"You hurt her. So I punched you."
Yeah, I really did.
Backing down and lacking argument, he opted to just sit down on one of the skateboarding ramps. "Remind me why we had to meet here out of all places again?"
"This place..." Scaramouche followed his actions, sitting on the ramp opposite of him. "This place is special to me and [Name]. I used to skateboard often when I was still a student."
"She would always come to me with drinks and snacks in hand. Then, unofficially, this became our weekend hangout spot."
"So, you've liked her since... you were students?"
Kunikuzushi hummed.
"How come you've never told her in that whole time?"
"I'm a coward," he chuckled. "I didn't want to lose what we have. I was afraid that we would stray apart from each other once I do."
Ayato could do nothing but smile sympathetically. "I bet you wrote songs about her."
"Albums," Scaramouche corrected him.
"Damn."
"Yeah. Damn." Ayato felt the return of an intense glare. "I wrote entire albums for her then you had the audacity to hurt [Name] enough for her to end your relationship despite being deeply enamored with you? Wow. Tsk, tsk. Talk about a big jerk."
"I'm aware," he sighed. "Now, can you stop with that? Unless you really only called me out here to make me realize how much I messed up — which let's be honest I really did, and I honestly deserve every single shit you throw at me, but —"
"Glad to know that you know."
Ayato frowned.
He sensed a shift in Scaramouche's mood. He assumed the other was getting serious now. "I called you here because I want you to fix this mess... and to ask you a favor —"
"— I'm leaving [Name] in your care."
"..."
"However," The man pointed at him. "One mistake, Kamisato. One mistake and I'll make sure she'd want to spend her lifetime with me instead."
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privacy — ayato x reader smau
prev. masterlist. next.
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NOTES -> that was long im sorry ahfbdhd -> also scara pls be mine instead🥹🙏
TAGLIST I (closed) @catsrkool @sukunasrealgf @redactedhimbo @layla240 @mxlkytea13 @itsactuallylina @milza12 @aixaingela @tatiratty @kimiesstuff @laventiseriou @kunihaver @bibisbestgirl @lunaavity @coquettemaiden @opchara @slvdsjjk @cotton-eee @lady-elodie @dearxiiao @wheneverthesunrise @heartswonder @chuduchok @headphonesrlif3 @lleoll @vnderthesunn @lizzardlady1234 @nekogakuro @rifran @atlatcaheart @ani-st @creammpuff @lunastarjay @kittycasie @poisoned-candy-apples @zannivrs @b0bafl0wer @moonlightaangel @elsoleil
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yurislotusgarden · 5 months
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TEACHER/PROFESSOR!DAZAI HC'S
ʚїɞ There are hc's just about teacher Dazai but also some including reader so-
ʚїɞ Dazai x reader
ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!
ʚїɞ word count: 845
ʚїɞ My current ongoing Christmas event
ʚїɞ Part 2
ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just some regular fluff and stuff
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ཐིཋྀ The teacher that all students love
ཐིཋྀ Whatever he would be teaching, no one would mind the subject because he manages to make anything interesting
ཐིཋྀ Speaking of, depending on what institute he teaches at, his subject would differ
ཐིཋྀ If he was in middle/high school he would probably be an English teacher (yes he would be the one to tell the class to read books in English but no one would complain because he’d choose interesting ones)
ཐིཋྀ I feel like he would be a professor at a university more though, he’s giving the vibes of a literature teacher, I would say (still could be the English professor ngl but I think only if there was no free spot for a literature one)
(Yes I know many people who write teacher!Dazai make him a literature prof but it just fits this man)
ཐིཋྀ Let's go with the university professor because I have more ideas for that
ཐིཋྀ There’s only 2 options for cheating
ཐིཋྀ There's absolutely no way you're cheating in his class if he doesn’t let you, probably will allow it ONLY if he likes you though💀
ཐིཋྀ Or he would be one of the teachers who would turn a blind eye to it if he sees that you need a better grade at the moment (if you're cheating while having good grades then that's a no-no)
ཐིཋྀ I picture him wearing black gloves, but I'm blaming it on the Beast novel where he has them
ཐིཋྀ Fucker almost never sits in the actual chair when one would expect him to do it (like when students are writing a test)
ཐིཋྀ He just straight up sits on the edge of his desk or on top and does his stuff in silence
ཐིཋྀ While teaching he either sits on the edge of the desk or walks around a little
ཐིཋྀ Cracks jokes all the time and people always laugh at them or at least smile because he knows when to say them and what kind fits the moment
ཐིཋྀ His students would accidentally find out that he has a drawer with sweets (he sometimes uses it for bribery, for example ‘you turn your work in on time = a candy for you’ when he assigns a hard project, it works)
ཐིཋྀ If Chuuya teaches at the same place then no one is escaping their bickering, the students actually made a bet on how long it would take before Chuuya hits Dazai for one of his insults
ཐིཋྀ There was also another bet that came about after the previous one
ཐིཋྀ At first, students were curious if Dazai was taken because 'how would someone like that not be in a relationship guys, he has to!'
ཐིཋྀ Little did they know some other professor heard it and told Dazai about it so he gave subtle hints but not clear enough, confusing people even more
ཐིཋྀ Going back to the gloves part, he once had to take them off because ‘they got dirty’ right before a break, revealing a ring on his left hand, causing the class at the time to erupt in chaos
ཐིཋྀ “Oh, I forgot to tell you all that I'm married? My bad, guys!” -he said right before he slipped out of the class for his lunch break
ཐིཋྀ The whole school knew he was married the very same day 
ཐིཋྀ Then came the other bet, ‘Who is he married to?’
ཐིཋྀ Some students proposed other professors, others said that it could be someone whom they had never seen, and someone else thought it might be a joke from Dazai's side because he found out about the previous bet
ཐིཋྀ They knew it was real when Chuuya of all people confirmed it 
“Sir I have a question, it's unrelated to the lesson though”
“Don't worry about it, what is the question?”
“Is it true that Professor Dazai is married?”
“Yeah, why?”
“HAH?!”
ཐིཋྀ Yeah he also confirmed it was someone they most likely hadn’t met as the brunet’s spouse works somewhere else/stays at home
ཐིཋྀ They would meet you because you either came to Dazai's classroom because mf forgot his lunch or a few of his students came to the room in the middle of a break, and you were there for some reason (in the 2nd option they probably asked you to come to class once so the class can meet you. They adore you either way)
ཐིཋྀ When it comes to you, Dazai is probably so goddamn soft that if any of his students saw him, they would think it's someone else trying to impersonate him
ཐིཋྀ You make him bentos and stuff and he never fails to eat them <3
ཐིཋྀ He appreciates it so goddamn much when you help him when he has a lot of stuff to grade at once because he procrastinated it 
ཐིཋྀ It can be making sure he isn't dehydrated, doesn't forget to eat or sleep, or even help in grading anything 
ཐིཋྀ Give him those forehead kisses after a long day, don't be shy, I dare you he’s so weak for them
ཐིཋྀ I recommend running your fingers through his hair while he's lying down on top of you or on your lap, he will melt
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Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated
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flowerandblood · 9 months
Text
The Impossible Choice (19)
[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, domination, murder ]
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[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous and next chapters: Masterlist
______
They returned by carriage to the Red Keep in complete silence. She couldn't stop crying at the thought of what had happened, at the thought of who they had just crowned King.
At the thought of how many innocent people had just died in the Great Sept.
She pressed her lips together so that they were almost blue, not making a sound, snuggled into her husband's chest, who was embracing her with one arm, himself resting his head on the other, covering his face with his hand. She had never seen him in such a state.
Pale, terrified, petrified.
They were both in shock.
Aegon was the King.
The queen, despite her almost grave mood, did not give up the great feast that she had organised in honour of her son and the new ruler. Only family members and the most loyal lords with their wives and children attended.
She, however, did not touch the food or the wine and stared blankly ahead, wondering when she would be able to leave without commiting a discourtesy. She saw that her husband was only drinking wine, immersed in his own thoughts; they didn't speak about what had happened.
They were both equally devastated.
Aegon, however, to her surprise, completely changed his attitude. After the applause of the people of his kingdom, he seemed downright delighted with his new role, the new power that was now in his possession. He was strutting proudly in his silver crown, enjoying each toast, drinking to the bottom, Helaena sat beside him but did not look at him, playing with her fingers.
"When the fire summons, the scorched earth will breathe a sigh of relief under the raindrops." She whispered so quietly that she barely heard it; Aegon paid no attention to it, as he made another toast.
Suddenly, however, the king's attention, to her dismay, turned towards her.
"Dear sister-in-law, why such sadness in your eyes? Are you not happy to have a new King?" He sneered, raising his eyebrows as he took a sip of wine from another already full cup.
She saw her husband's hand lying on the table in front of her clench into a fist, her heart pounding in her chest, but her face remained indifferent.
She thought that she would not be drawn into his pathetic game.
"I almost burned alive today. The experience has worn me out, my King." She said calmly, a grimace on her husband's face that could be called a smile.
Aegon laughed at her words, raising his cup to the air, clearly delighted by her coarse, ironic reply.
"So my sister-in-law can speak. Until now, all I've heard from afar in my chamber are the other equally curious sounds that you are capable of making." He said accusingly, taking a sip of wine again, grinning under his breath at his own statement.
Some of those gathered moved in their seats, looking at each other with embarrassment, the Queen stared at him in pain and disbelief.
"How can you say such things in front of all these people? To humiliate your brother's wife in front of everyone?" She said with pain, clearly on the verge of tears herself after all that had happened. Aegon snorted loudly at her words.
"After all, it's no insult. I envy my brother such a wonderful possession."
"That is enough." She said, looking at him impatiently, feeling her stomach clench from the humiliation overpowering her.
She promised herself she wouldn't cry, that she wouldn't give this bastard the satisfaction.
"Your words are insulting to me and your own wife. Your Queen."
Aegon raised an eyebrow, letting out a loud breath, reaching for the grape standing before him on a platter.
"My queen is indifferent to everything. Isn't she?" He asked, leaning over Helaena. His wife-sister looked at him, her gaze dreamy and sad, full of a hopelessness from which her heart squeezed. She heard her husband stand up suddenly, turning away, tense.
"We're leaving." He hissed, but his brother's voice stopped him.
"I order you to stay. You will leave when I allow you to." He said matter-of-factly, washing his hands in a bowl of water to reach his hand for another dish.
She saw her husband look over his shoulder at his brother-king, saw that he was on edge, his eye black, menacing, filled with madness and rage.
She thought that if they were to win, he could not burst now.
She extended her hand towards him under the table, so that no one but him could see the gesture. Her husband looked at her fingers, then at her face, his chest rising and falling in anxious breaths. He clenched his eyelid and swallowed his saliva along with his humiliation.
He turned back, pale with rage, and sat back in his seat.
She placed her hand on his knee, stroking it up and down, and he placed his own palm on hers, intertwining their fingers, clasping them almost painfully in a tight embrace.
She straightened herself proudly, feeling that they must support each other now more than ever.
She could not leave him.
Aegon cocked his head seeing this.
"See? The younger brother should always listen to the older brother. I want the best for you and your wife." He said, looking at her with such a look that she felt her stomach twist.
Even from the feast after their wedding, after he said the door to his chamber would always be open to her, she knew that she had caught his eye.
She had pretended over the months that she did not see his surreptitious glances at her when her husband was not looking, that she did not feel his burning gaze on her lips and breasts.
The thought that he was now King, that he could send her husband off to war just to left her alone in the keep, terrified her.
She would never give him what he desired, but what if he wanted to take it by force?
She swallowed loudly at the thought, weak and pale, trying to focus on the warmth of her husband's hand, stroking his skin with her thumb.
They returned to his chamber in sullen moods; Lyanna helped her remove her gown and unbraid her hair. When she had finished, she dismissed her and glanced over her shoulder at her husband. He was sitting by the fireplace again, thoughtful, his face expressing nothing.
Since she slept in his quarters it was she who helped him remove his clothes to sleep.
She approached him slowly, but he did not even look at her. She knelt down in front of him and saw that he opened his mouth to protest, but only swallowed loudly as she pressed her cheek against his thigh, embracing his knee with her arms, closing her eyes.
She needed his closeness and protection.
She was as scared and frightened as he was.
She felt a pleasant shiver as she felt his fingers slide into her hair, their tips combing through her dark curls so tenderly that she felt like she was about to cry.
"Come here." He said quietly, calmly, softly. She rose slowly, climbing onto his thighs, and he drew her to him like a small child, pressing her head into the hollow of his neck, the other holding on her back, stroking her.
She knew that they both needed something more than intimate lovemaking right now, even if he would never admit it.
They lingered like this, comforting each other with their closeness, thoughtful, the darkness around them illuminated only by the flames and the sound of the fire. She was snapped out of her blissful half-sleep by the quiet voice of her husband.
"One day I will make you my queen." He whispered softly, as if he were speaking of something forbidden, defiled, cursed. She rose slowly, looking at him in pain, placing her hand on his shoulder.
They looked at each other for a moment, she could see on his face that he was waiting for her reaction.
For what her response would be to his indirect admission, to his most dangerous, darkest desire.
She stroked his cheek with her hand, running her fingertips over his scar and he squinted his eye at her gentle touch, letting out a quiet breath. He trembled and quickly caught her wrist when he felt her wanting to remove his eye patch.
"No." He said dryly, nervous and scared at the same time, suddenly all tense, his lips tightened into a thin line.
She was not frightened.
She had long since stopped being afraid of him.
"If I am to support you with my whole self, if I am to become your Queen, you can no longer hide from me who you are." She mumbled quietly, his pupil narrowed in surprise at her words, utterly not expecting it.
She could see that he was in complete shock, pale and terrified, she saw how hesitant he was.
He wanted to say something but couldn't, his hand holding her wrist trembling slightly.
"… it's a repulsive sight." He choked out finally, uncertainly and weakly.
She knew what he feared.
He feared that she would stop desiring him.
And along with her desire, he would lose all her tenderness, everything they had managed to build between them.
She felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he had feared this all this time, all these months strenuously checking that his eye patch was fastened tightly enough not to slip off his face as he made love to her.
That's why he took her from behind.
Then he didn't focus on the fact that she might accidentally see him.
"I find it repulsive to see your brother-king, even though he has two eyes." She hummed with a smirk; he snorted at her words, amused, shaking his head, lowering his gaze.
She felt his grip on her wrist loosen, his gaze directed at her again, watching vigilantly to see what she would do.
He drew in a quick breath as her hand slid his eye patch off his head in one, sure flick of her wrist.
Her heart stopped for a moment, her lips parted in surprise when she saw that in the pocket of his skull where his eyeball had once been was a large, polished sapphire, shimmering ominously in the fire.
She thought that it was the most demonic and arousing sight she had ever seen in her life.
She felt his chest rise and fall in uncertainty, searching her face with horror for any sign of disgust or fear. Her hands cupped his cheeks, her face leaning over him to kiss slowly every inch of his scar and eyelid, running slowly downwards, drawing a loud, exasperated sigh from him.
"Ābrazȳrys (wife)…" He whispered, and she smiled, renewing the caress again, his hand tightening on her back against the material of her nightgown.
She felt his cock pulsate hard between her thighs, clearly delighted by her gentle, tender touch and by her reaction. Encouraged, she began to rub against him with slow rocking of her hips.
She heard him begin to breathe loudly, his manhood becoming completely hard after several such strokes. She felt him throbbing between her thighs at this unforced closeness, her nipples hardening completely, shining through the thin material of her gown.
He saw this and clung to them as he had on their wedding night, slipping her chemise off her one shoulder, pressing his lips to her exposed breast, sucking on it almost immediately.
She moaned in delight as she felt the tip of his tongue trail around her nipple, sucking on it once in a while, making her sticky wetness run down her thighs, his free hand tighten on her buttock, forcing her to speed up.
"− one day I will caress your soft breasts like this on the Iron Throne, sweet wife −" He muttered low, panting heavily, his words making her clamp her hands in his hair, pressing him closer to her. She felt him quickly untie his breeches, his erection all swollen, twitching with desire, ready to possess her.
She lifted herself quickly, thirsty and flustered, and sank down on top of him, stretching her fleshy insides with the fat head of his cock, both of them letting out a gasp of delight. She began to ride him with a wet click of her moisture, involuntarily watching his face, his sparkling sapphire eye, her husband's face, whole as he was, sucking on her breast.
"− is that so? − the King will not fondle his mistresses in the privacy of the Throne Room −" She hummed, smiling coquettishly, panting quietly, rising and falling on thick, throbbing mannhood in an unhurried, soft pace, sliding it inside her to the very end each time, moaning quietly as it's tip pressed the front wall of her fleshy core.
She heard him chuckle lowly, as he was clearly amused by her words.
"− as a king, I could indeed have a mistress −" He muttered, running the tip of his nose over her nipple, playing with it between his lips, sucking and licking it, drawing a loud whimper of pleasure from her. "− she would have to meet a lot of conditions to satisfy me though −"
"− to have your firm breasts −" He breathed out, and she moaned at his words, surprised and aroused, pressing him tighter to her chest, holding her hand in his white, pearl hair as he began to rock his hips inside her.
"− to have your soft hips − your small hands − your shiny hair − your bright eyes − gods, your tight, hot insides −" He growled out, clenching his hands on her hips, forcing her to speed up, thrusting his cock into her brutally and quickly, panting loudly, feeling her hot, soft walls tightening on every inch of his hard length.
She wasn't sure she'd ever been aroused like this before in her life, his words made her feel as if she were burning from the inside, their closeness, his face that he dared to show her at last, his eye looking at her ominously, making a shiver of pleasure run through her every time with a wet, perverted click she fell against his cock again, panting along with him.
She parted her moist, swollen lips, brushing the skin of his face once in a while before catching her breath again.
"− and if she had it all − would you fuck her? −" She mumbled sweetly, softly, almost on the verge of her peak, her insides beginning to pulse hard against him, craving fulfilment, his thrusts sloppy and messy, sticky and loud from her juices.
She could hear how aroused he was by what was happening between them, by the fact that they were speaking about things that shouldn't be said about.
"− no − fuck − she wouldn't have your voice − your scent − she wouldn't moan like you −" He gasped, clenching his eye, tilting his head back, she knew that he imagined they weren't sitting in his chamber now, but in the throne room, and she was just riding him on the Iron Throne.
She felt her nipples harden painfully at his words and that thought, she knew that a few more thrusts of his length and she was about to come as hard as she had never come before in her life.
"− my king-husband deserves it all −" She cooed, her lips parted wide, her eyes clenched, his pushes loud, fast and sticky, his fingers clenched painfully tight on her hips, seeking fulfilment.
"− he can fuck me on his throne whenever and however he wants − ah, Aemond, please! −" She sobbed, tilting her head back, feeling a powerful wave of hot, tickling pleasure pass through her, the delight she felt, the heat that spread through her body made her unable to calm down, writhing on top of him.
"− fuck, yes, just like that − oh, gods −" Was the only thing he managed to get out of himself before he came inside her with a loud, low, fulfilled groan, tilting his head back, clenching his eye, consumed by his own dreams and desires, the sight of them, fucking on the throne that was his right.
They lingered over each other, enthralled by the experience, at least for a moment able to escape the cruel, dark reality that enveloped them like a night that was never to end.
However now, in this moment, they were both happy and fulfilled.
She pressed her forehead against his and felt that they were both hot and sweaty, their eyes closed, their breaths loud and raspy.
She felt him embrace her and pull her close, hugging her to his chest, hearing his whisper.
"You're the only one I trust."
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu @yentroucnagol @valeskafics
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elsa-fogen · 1 month
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Oh, Husk and Alastor?
Their dynamic is also pretty interesting, they kinda feel like two people who everyone thinks gets along great and are the best of friends. While in reality their friendship is fueled but a fire born from their hatred. They just have many decent moments and have a easy time understanding each other, through they often use that information to serve a selfish endeavor.
Like Alastor would mess with Husk, tease him and Husk would tell Al to get his act together so that he(Husk) doesn't have to deal with some sort of fallout (ref. when Mimzy comes by)
In general, I feel like they do get along really well, but they are in no way friends. Kinda like how you can get along well with your boss, but wouldn't really consider them a friend. And you wouldn't really want them to involve themselves in your life, but that doesn't stop Alastor. (Social conversions? What's that)
This also makes me curious, wonder what kind of dynamic Husk has with Rosie, or rather, how do you think Rosie sees Husk? Just like a pet Alastor has? Or does she actually see the person that is there? (Leaning more towards her not really seeing Husk more than a errand boy or pet of Alastor)
Though it would be fun if the first time Husk meet Rosie he thought that she might actually be willing to help him because she gives of the energy of being a very kind person around people she cares about (aka Alastor). So he tries to talk to her without Alastor present and he finally understands how they get along so well, they are both the same kind of crazy ᵔᵜᵔ
So, um- what are your thoughts on the dynamic between Alastor and Husk?
HEEEHEHHE YOU GOT ME A REASON TO TALK ABOUT MY FRESH HEADCANON ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIPS
OKAY SO!!
I saw a theory that Husk had children when he was alive. Keep that in mind, it's a secret tool we wanna use later
So, little bit about Alastor. He is not the guy who owns many souls. In fact, he doesn't own any (well... i have some headcanons, but it's for another time). The only soul he has is Niffty, and she's... she's whole another level.
So one day Alastor get's Husk's soul in posession and he has no idea what to do with him. Their contract is basically "you'll have to do anything i order you" but it doesn't set any boundaries for Husk. So he can insult Alastor, argue with him and so on. The only thing he cant is to try to kill Alastor, but it's obvious.
So, Alastor's just... drags him around, and Husk has to just be there all the time, and watch Alastor do stupid shit without thinking, being manipulated by Mimzy into some shenanigans and so on, because he's too powerful, kinda don't afraid of anything and little bit unhinged. And Husk is trying to be that voice of sanity for Alastor (and maybe Niffty). Like in canon, he tries to warn Alastor about Mimzy nd at some point seems genuinely worried about him. Just a bit. And also, in that scene in final song, when Alastor appears again, Husk doesn't seem happy but still goes for group hug.
I think he sees Alastor as a child he has to babysit, but the child is so spoiled, that he doesn't give a shit about his warnings. Maybe Al reminds him of his own children at some degree. And so Husk is attached to Alastor in some weird unhealthy way, he cares about him and tries to protect, even if it pointless.
The worst part of it is that Alastor doesn't see him more than funny fluffy cat-guy-pet. He almost never takes him seriously and doesn't listen to what he says. So Husk may try to reach out to Rosie, to make her to reason with Alastor. But she's basiclly "i could fix him, but whatever is wrong with him is way funnier". I think she listens to Husk's worries about another Alastor's scheme, but she also trusts Alastor? I mean, she belives that he'll be fine. But if something seems to dangerous, she can agree and talk to Alastor.
After all, Husk was an overlord, and i think Rosie could know him before he made a deal with Alastor. So, i think she doesn't think of Husk as just Al's pet, she knows who he is. After all, not every sinner can become an overlord. But still,
So, last thing. I saw that one comic where after episode 5 Alastor admits that Husk was right about Mimzy and i really love this thought. I think Alastor also likes Husk's presence at some degree. Maybe they could build something healtier, maybe Alastor, after losing part of his powers, would listen to Husk more. But still it's all fucked up while Alastor owns his soul.
And also, i'd really love to see something of just Alastor, Husk and Niffty getting into some shenanigans together, this would be so much fun. Al and Niff who are just 2 unhinged gremlins and Husk who's done with their shit, but still cares about them and can't just leave, and it's not because of the deal. Like i imagine when husk is trying to reason with Alastor that he's about do something stupid and dangerous and Alastor's like well i don't force you to follow us this time, but Husk still goes with them because who else would watch after these two idiots?
So i think, i get your point about them!
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mishsymishy · 6 months
Note
Hi there! Could I request Ragatha, Zooble and Jax with someone who already comes kind of insane when they first arrive at the digital circus? Like having some glitches and abstracting for a couple of seconds? Thank you very much!
Thank you for making the request!(I loved the idea)
It is in drabble format, and it is friendship or romantic but it is more romantic
Warnings:Low self-esteem, panic, pain, rejection, handling, corrupted,Horrible jokes, angst.
Digital Circus x Reader having glitches and abstractions¡
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Zooble!
- The first time they saw you, they thought that you were already lost, that you will probably become abstract soon or even now.
Well.., they was surprised to see how you go on and on well, as if the little glitches they gave you were nothing, I was a little admiring how you You still didn't fall into despair and well, end up like a black thing
-After being together for a long time, they starts to care about your constant glitches and abstractions,a little worried more and more that it will really get to the point where you lose control trying to find solutions to stop the glitches or abstracts , even if it is less than before
_You will have many talks, mostly to keep you mentally healthy, although well they too needs that. You tend to go to someone's room to talk or walk around, talking about your past lives or listening to Zooble complain about how unbearable everyone is. Although sometimes you also have talks about what you would do if you escaped and could finally be free
-Jax once bother you because you panicked and almost got a double abstraction eye on the back of your head, Zooble quickly managed to grab him by the neck again and threaten him that if he 'liked' abstractions so much he would be next one
-If you abstracted yourself, they wouldn't cry, but they would feel even worse about herself, as if they had failed you in everything they promised you. Making you believe that you could improve and both get out of there. Over time, they would also end up abstracted
Ragatha!
-She would really be scared to see how abstracted you are, after Kaufmo she's really afraid of being glitched or banged against the walls again. When she sees that you return to normal, she only looks at you strangely while thinking about what she just observed and how is that normal
-As he gets to know you better, he starts to ask a lot of questions about you and your health, etc. You even get the idea of ​​going to talk to Caine to see if he can solve your problem like he did with her and Pomni. When she sees your glitches he asks you if it's hurt. She, maybe, understands you a little And well, she maybe can help you reduce that little by little (At least that's what she thinks), trying to give you advice on what to do in a moment of stress just as she did with Ponmi.
-She worries a lot about you, trying to keep you from doing the hard things, like dealing with Caine's adventures as very difficult missions, and she just tells you to relax while she does all the work. Also try not to let others say bad things to you or even bother you, she really don't want to lose you! She is very overprotective of you like she was with Pomni, only much less so.
- The truth is that she loves you very much, she has captured you with affection and compassion, so if you finally corrupt yourself, She will feel bad too, only she would hit him twice as hard because she never felt too bad about her and now... hate herself a little too much, She feels like her only job was to take care of you and she just failed that simple thing. It will not become corrupt because it knows that there are still people who need her or that is what she wants to think. Oh, and I'm probably less patient now and more worried For your loss she will also have a small offering , like something that reminds her of you in a secluded place in her room.
Jax!
-At first he started insulting you, calling you strange or something like that and trying not to be with you relying on the excuse that you You were a bad and corrupted person and it was better to be away from you , try to convince everyone to stay away from you too using past reference like Kaufmo
-Then after having a mission with you and seeing how black things like abstractions came out of your body ,he was scared (and also worried) because of you.As he got to know you a little more he realized that you were just lost in your mind so you weren't that bad.
-He ends up caring about you but doesn't want to show it, if he gives you a glitch In public he won't say anything but then in private he will probably ask you everything about your mental and physical health.
-Many times he use your abstractions to scare someone, mostly Kinger, by telling them that you are also going to abstract like Kaufmo or Queenie , but if you tell him that you don't want him to make jokes about your problems, he will more or less stop doing it just because he loves you although I don't want to admit it at all.
I hope you liked it! sorry for the delay, a lot of study shit and thanks for make the request!
-If you become distracted, it is more or less that he will feel guilty for not having taken you seriously, for not having helped you so much, for laughing every time he saw something happen to you, thinking that it was not worrying. Surely now I'll stop making serious jokes on people. But he will also be much more depressed and wanting to leave that place.
-
Hope you like it! Sorry for the delay!
Please tell me if any pronoun or spelling is wrong, I use a translator and I don't know if some things are spelled correctly
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starrclown · 6 days
Text
I've see ALOT of LMK angst and I have nothing better to do (cause it's late at night) and I'm not working on my LMK apocalypse au right now sooo-
LMK ANGST HEADCANNONS
Triggerwarning for Violence, Blood, Suicidal thoughts, and other general upsetting topics.
(Feel free to leave yours below. Let's make these characters sad together!)
:D
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Pigsy gets upset when people joke about Wukong being Mk's dad. It's insulting to him, the one that raises Mk since he was so little.
Wukong is someone that craves physically touch but also can't stand it. It stems from all the violence he's been apart of + the crown messed him up alot. He was SUPER uncomfortable with Mk touching him in the beginning. It has to be on his terms if you wanna touch him.
Macaque doesn't have a heart beat anymore.
Because of Macaque never coming back when Wukong needed him, Wukong had no trust that Macaque will come back if they have a argument. He assumes that Macaque is just gone and gets upset about it. Eventually Macaque comes back and realizes Wukong's upset but he doesn't bring it up cause he doesn't know how.
Redson doesn't really understand why his father doesn't seem to like him. He assumed that his dad would be overjoyed to see him again, not how he's acting now.
Mei had many breakdowns because of her grades and the pressure to be a spectacular student.
Pigsy got bullied alot in school for being a pig demon. It wasn't everyone, most people liked him, just a specific group of kids.
To add on to #7, Tang used to beat himself up over not being able to help Pigsy. He HATED seeing Pigsy getting bullied but he knew that if he tried to start a fight he would either get beat because he can't fight or get himself kicked out of school.
Mk gets nightmares of Wukong getting forced into the scroll. Sometimes he wonders what would of happened if Wukong never got out. He usually ends up crying.
The closest thing Sandy ever got to being violent is when one of his cats scared him and he accidently dropped Mo. He cried. Alot. (Mo was fine but he just hates his cats being hurt.)
Sandy still doesn't know Hunstman is dead. He just thinks that Huntsman was scared of him so he never came back. (Guess Hunstmans my favorite and he's dead and i hate it here god dammit.)
No one can say anything about Azure or Azure's death around Wukong because he will get upset. Macaque made a joke one time and Wukong lost his shit. He's still kinda shooken up about it.
Some of the baby monkies recognize Macaque as the one disguised as Wukong that ate the monkey and passed it around. Those monkies REFUSE to be around him. They get violent if they have to be around him.
Nezha wants to see Wukong, Redson, and the others more but his job is so demanding he barely gets to leave.
Wukong physically couldn't be around Tang for long periods of time when they first met. He got more comfortable with him over time but Tang reminded him to much of Tripitaka and he couldn't handle it.
Mei doesn't yell out of anger, like serious anger alot. When she finally yelled at Wukong because of the fire, all Wukong saw was Ao Lie screaming at him. (Stole that headcannon from a friend of mine. Thanks Ainnur you ruined my life.)
Mk brought up the fact that Wukong was willing to put the fire into himself and sacrifice himself, almost certainly killing himself in the process one time. Wukong kinda laughed and just said "Yeah, had to save the world bud. It's a shame Macaque messed up my plan, the world woulda been a little bit more peaceful if me AND Lady Bone Demon died." He wasn't even trying to admit suicidal feelings, he was just being honest. This scared the SHIT out of Mk because Wukong just admitted that he can and will kill himself if he feel he needs too.
Sandy often feels left out of the group and not as important but he doesn't wanna ruin everyone's fun so he stays quiet.
Bai he was ready to die when she was found by the Monkie Gang. She wasn't scared of death anymore.
Bai he was scared of Wukong when they first met face to face. Wukong apologized and explained himself. Over time she got a little more comfortable with him. She understands why he's apologizing but at that point she was so ready to die she didn't care who did it.
Redson wants to be around Sun Wukong again but he doesn't know how to start the relationship again. Same on Wukongs part but he's a bit more forward.
Macaque gets physical in fights fast. Partly cause his fights with Peng, Partly cause of his life before Wukong, Partly cause of Lady Bone Demon. If Macaque thinks a situation will get rough, he'll try to fight but if he thinks he'll lose he'll dip.
Princess Iron Fan unintentionally critiques Redsons's looks all the time. It messes with him alot so he's quite insecure.
Mei feels the need to always be upbeat and cheerful so Mk doesn't sink to far into depression. She can tell when he does this for her but she doesn't bring it up.
Pigsy's worst fear is that Mk won't come back home. The nightmares he's had of this is brutal.
I could make more but I'm sleeeeepppy. I'll make a part two one day though. Leave your own headcannons cause seeing other people break down these characters is so fun.
(How some people think Mk will be in season 5)
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- ⭐️StarClown⭐️
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ever-eilish · 1 month
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hi! I'd love to see how you'd write chishiya. :)
If you don't have many ideas--maybe a simple scenario where the reader has night terrors and sleeps better with someone. So, she kinda just knocks on Chishiya's door, fully expecting him to dismiss her but he actually agrees.
If you want to turn it into smut, you do you!
Good night
chishiya x fem!reader
when sleepless nights are more common than usual, a very familiar face helps with the terror that comes when the sun goes down
author's notes: so, this is the very first imagine that l post on tumblr! I'm excited to know what you guys think about it :) thank you so much for requesting, I hope this is what you wanted!!! english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, enjoy❤️‍🩹
warnings: none! just fluff ;)
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Sweat dripped from my forehead and I could feel my heart pounding in my ribcage. Tears were forming in my eyes and my breathing was. heavy. The feeling of exhaustion gnawed at me more and more, but now it was impossible to close my eyes and rest again. Ever since I arrived in this place, I have had dreams - or rather, nightmares - every night. At first, I was able to go back to sleep; but the nightmares are getting worse. What was once just a distant image of all the horrors I've experienced here, are now people screaming and running after me.
"Murderer! Murderer!" They scream as they run towards me, with disfigured faces and bloody bodies.
I can't run, it's almost like my feet betray me and refuse to move. I get up from my bed and walk towards the door. I don't have time to think straight when I stand in front of Chishiya's bedroom door; again feeling betrayed by my own feet.
My relationship with Chishiya is complicated, we don't really like each other. It all started with a stupid game, in which only he and I made it out alive. However, what should be a reason for rapprochement, has become a reason for repulsion.
I don't know exactly why, maybe he just didn't really liked me, but I know that since then we've gone into a strange spiral of competition. In which every time I come back from a game he looks at me with that look of superiority that I hate so much, and acts as if the fact that I survived another game was a surprise; obviously, I do the same to him.
I can't quite figure it out, maybe for a subconscious reason, or maybe because he's the only familiar face on the beach, but now I'm knocking on his door.
I regret my decision the moment I put it into action, after all, it was obvious that he would not open the door.
Or maybe he'd even open the door and when he looked at my face, he'd give another one of his smirks and close the door. Or maybe he would even insult me for waking him up in the middle of the night just because I needed comfort. Maybe I should just go back to my room and spend another sleepless night trapped in my own thoughts. I was going back to my room when I hear the door open.
I turn around again and see the blond-haired man's face staring at me intensely, with a questioning look. An awkward silence ensues as I stare at him wide-eyed.
"I-I..." I can't finish my sentence.
Idiot, idiot, idiot! Why the fuck did I think it would be a good idea to show up at the door of the last person who would want to be woken up by me?
"You...?" he says, raising an eyebrow and looking in my direction. His eyes showed no judgment, but rather pure confusion.
"I had a nightmare, and..." onde again, I was not able to finish my sentence "I'll just go back to my room! Sorry if I bothered you!"
I and turn to go to my room again when I feel a warm hand touch my arm.
Something about that simple touch was different, it was almost as if with just one touch, he could soothe all my demons.
"Come in" he says in an indifferent tone, giving me room to enter his room. With a little hesitation I walk towards the room.
The place smelled of cinnamon, with a slight touch of sweetness. It was organized, and somehow I felt that Chishiya's room was a good representation of his personality; cold and not so cozy, but at that moment, that was all I needed.
"Are you going to stand there, or are you going to lie down?" he says, walking over to his king-size bed in the middle of the room. It was only at that moment that I noticed that he wasn't wearing his usual sweatshirt, but just a black t-shirt and sweatpants of the same a color.
I walk towards his bed and sit on the right side, suddenly feeling that my fingers were much more interesting than staring at the piercing brown eyes that were looking at me curiously.
"I don't bite" he says, again in an indifferent tone, and I look in his direction, noticing that he was now lying on his back "you can lie down, you look tired"
So I do as he says and lie on my back as well, staring at the dull white ceiling. The situation should be uncomfortable, and I should be wishing I could get out of here as soon as possible, but instead, I felt comforted by the warmth emanating from the body of the man lying just inches from me, and I wondered how long it had been since I felt such comfort.
"So, nightmares, right?" he asks and turns his head in my direction
"Yes, I guess"
"And may I know why you chose to come here?" he asks me.
His tone was not accusatory, but curious. What am I supposed to answer, anyway? I'm not even sure what I'm doing here.
"I have no idea" I answer honestly, and hear a faint laugh from my side, still refusing to look into his eyes. The room is silent again and I feel him moving on the bed to turn off a simple lamp with yellowish light arranged on the small table next to him, a lamp that I didn't even notice was on.
Now, with the total darkness, I can't help but feel more comfortable, my eyes heavy. It was suddenly, so suddenly that I almost couldn't believe it, that I felt Chisiya's arm go over my shoulders and pulling me slightly closer; Now, my head is millimeters away from his chest, and his arms are clinging to me, with his hand making small circular motions on my forearm. I don't dare say anything, I just let myself relax, snuggle into his embrace and focus on the circular drawings he made with his fingers on my skin, as I feel my eyes close and my body fall into a much-needed sleep.
Maybe it's the only time l've really been able to sleep well since I've been here.
Little did I know, that this was also the only time Chishiya had been able to sleep well since arriving in this hell.
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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 months
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I loooove your Minotaur!Konig, mythological AUs are my favorite ❤️
Asterion is such a sweetheart with his love, but I can only imagine how he gets when he's jealous/protective. I see Asterion settling into domestic life as a husband and a sailor relatively easily because it's all he's ever wanted (more than what he wanted/thought possible if he's being honest), but all it takes is one man making aggressive advances on his wife and he's the dreaded Minotaur of Crete who cut through hundreds of soldiers to get through the palace and slaughter the king himself. All those feral, animalistic traits come rushing back tenfold when it comes to her, the center of his universe and the only goddess he'll ever worship. So it doesn't matter if it's a simple fisherman, a famed warrior, a prince from foreign lands, or the son of Zeus himself. Asterion had slit the throat of a demigod before; Theseus, a rival who he disposed of bitterly before he had even met his wife, the unfamiliar poisonous feel of envy trickling through the Minotaur's veins as Theseus mentioned a woman he'd come to the labyrinth with, a woman who would change his fate and make him different from the other heroes who had tried and failed to kill the Minotaur and escape that infamous maze. Yet the divine hero fell as easily as the others, and she ended up changing Asterion's fate instead, guiding him through the hell that had imprisoned him since he was a child, holding out her hand to him and bringing him out of the darkness of the Labrinyth and into the light. Asterion would kill a thousand heroes and kings for his love, become Death itself and burn down the world and the heavens alike just to keep her safe, keep her with him.
Anon you depicted him & his devotion so beautifully…
He has a lot to learn when it comes to society and living among people: the first time they were at the marketplace and she started to barter with some shopkeeper, he thought the bargaining male was insulting his woman. So he marched forward, grabbed him by his clothes and raised him to the chalked wall until she ran to him and explained the situation – amused while the poor shopkeeper almost pissed himself. She got a very good price after that!
And he will absolutely turn into a demigod, this chthonic warrior whenever he feels his beloved is under a threat or if someone tries to take her away from him. It’s not even about him being jealous (although he is that too): he just sees himself as the most able protector she could choose, and anyone who dares to challenge that will get stomped to the ground.
Clearly, she favors him between the furs as well, so it’s no use to try and snatch her away with perfumed beards, shallow promises or playful charms… She always runs her fingers through his hair, chest, head or thigh, looks at him with stars in her eyes. She obviously doesn’t need some shaved “hero” with an eloquent tongue when she has a bull like him.
Bulls don’t have time for philosophy and neither does she: his goddess prefers a strong man who can carry heavy loads and make her moan in bed. And whenever he does talk, he says what he thinks. It always makes her either gasp or smile so at least he doesn’t bore her to death like those oiled, fancy men… She likes his comments in bed, too, he can tell. To him, it’s nothing earth shatteringly special to wake her up in the middle of the night and announce that he’s hard. The thing between his legs was made for her pleasure after all, so why should he keep it to himself?
She always acts as if he has both done something wrong and extremely right because it always ends in her saying that perhaps he should fuck her then. Soon enough she's begging under him, clawing his back like a cat, sighing that she loves him.
He always tells her that he loves her back, as many times as he has to to make her shatter in his arms.
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estelofrivendell · 8 months
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A Change of Heart (Aragorn x Female Reader)
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At first, Aragorn thought you to be the most despicable woman he’d ever come across. In his eyes you were the embodiment of everything wrong with the race of Men. You were in a notorious group of sellswords roaming around the North and you were the worst of them. Rumor had it that you were a rogue as much as you were a sellsword; doing the bidding of others ranging from thieving to killing for the sole purpose of money. Seeing you embrace your lifestyle made him seethe. Actually, seeing you made him seethe.
Men of Bree had enough sense in them to fear you. Being the ignorant people they are, their fear was not limited to mercenaries and extended to the Rangers. Everyone in town knew who Strider was: long legged, creepy and out to come and get you. He had a reputation, a negative one much to his dismay.
One day, a new threat in the region was so large it left Aragorn with no other choice but to contact the very person he hoped he would never have to interact with. As much as he despised everything about you, with your high prices and lack of hesitation to do almost any task, you had a reputation of getting everything done. With a sigh, he lifted his hood and left for the Prancing Pony, bracing for what was to come. 
It is an understatement to say he did not expect how everything turned out in the end for the both of you.
-
“Well? What do you need? I never fancied a visit from you, Strider, so speak. I want to hear it all.”
He explained everything he needed as he watched you smoke your pipeweed, leaning back on your chair to be more comfortable. He didn’t need eyes in the back of his head to see everyone watching you two carefully. His ears were not sharp enough to hear what exactly they were talking about but even the most dense of people can determine it was about them. Each time Barliman Butterbur passed by your table, he picked up his pace as if he had a bounty on his head.
“You’re right, that’s not easy work at all, but I’ve done many jobs that make this one child’s play.”
Grabbing the stash of coins in his pocket and placing it down on the table, you took one look at it and already decided it was a task you can live with. Your decisiveness did not make Aragorn respect you. It did the opposite.
-
One of his biggest philosophies in life is to treat others the way they want to be treated. In his life he has encountered many people that made him want to reject it and punch them in the face for his own good. You were one of those people. He’s known since the beginning that getting on your bad side would do him no good if he got what he needed done and he knew you held him in contempt. Not as much as I hold her in contempt, he thought.
Just as he heard, you were extremely effective in case anyone needed something done. Cover up a murder another person committed? You’ll remove the evidence. Steal something they need? No problem, as long as they tell you where it is. Kidnap someone for questioning? A little difficult, but you’ve done it before. How you never got arrested for everything you did Aragorn cannot tell.
He believed nothing could ever bring him to lose his temper, but everyone has their limits and he reached his breaking point. 
“Tell me, why do you do this? Does it make you feel better when you look back and think about how you live your life?”
You narrowed your eyes. “Do you have to ask? I do it for the money. Nothing else. I don’t care one bit about anyone’s beliefs or who’s going to war against whom or anything else in the world. I don’t ask you why you keep being a Ranger when everyone insults you, both in your face and behind your back. Do you know what that fat man in the Prancing Pony, whatever his name is, says about you?”
Aragorn clenched his jaw. “If you’re doing the right thing, then what people say shouldn’t matter one bit. Even the most unenthusiastic ‘thank you’ would have sufficed but people would rather thank you than me and I don’t get paid for protecting Bree.”
“By all means, join us. If that’s what you think, you would be happier this way. Your skill is unmatched.”
Nothing offended him more. “I would not kill even if it meant I would become the richest man alive. Would you rip a newborn out of its mother’s arms and kill it in front of her if it would give you so much money you would never have to work a day in your life ever again?”
Now it was your turn to become enraged that he was sure you were on the verge of leaving him right there and never do the bidding while keeping all the money you got. He was too mad to care and he thought your angry silence told him what he needed to know.
Until you answered, “If you must know, Strider, I do not take joy in murdering people. This is the only way I make a living. If I could have it my way then I would do something else completely different. I feel nothing but pity when I look into a man’s eyes unless there is good reason for them to be dead. But I have made my word and I stick to it.
You left him there as he processed your words, leaving him stunned. You did come back in the morning; all you did was steal some food and clothes.
-
He still didn’t like you a lot, but he was beginning to be more considerate since that night you told him the truth. Somehow, he never considered that some people have no choice and in this he apologised to you. Still, nothing can bring back all the innocent lives lost from your hand. 
“I think it’s my turn to ask you. Why are you a ranger?” You asked, resting your chin on your knuckles as you leaned forward.
Aragorn took a sip of his wine. “I was born into a family of rangers. This is all I ever know. I cannot decide how I was born nor can anyone else.”
“That explains it then. Have you ever thought of… simply leaving? Not that I’m suggesting you do it, but you always seemed miserable.”
“And where would I go?”
You shrugged. “Like I know the answer to that? I don’t know, anywhere you want. You’re a man, you’ll find a place in no time.”
If he could do things his own way, he would have taken the throne of Gondor a long time ago. He’d waited too long yet it was not the right time to do so.
He thought about how you liked to talk. Silence was not your friend and every time he did not answer you (which happened many times) you switched the topic. Not even Sauron himself can get it out of him but he enjoyed your company because he had someone to talk to. His fellow Dunedain were respectable but they lacked the charm you possessed.
“Am I right in assuming no one has won your heart?” You asked. “You are too pleasant looking for me to ignore.”
For the first time, Aragorn gave you a smile that was neither a sneer or a sarcastic one. “Since you are curious to know, no. What are you suggesting?”
You didn’t need to answer him. The gleam in your eyes told him all. 
-
There were many negative adjectives Aragorn would use for you. He thinks every negative word in the Common Tongue and Sindarin were not enough to describe how terrible you were.
Now, he saw you as a friend. That was an appropriate term. You were beginning to soften up around him and his hatred for you was dissolving. He decided you weren’t so bad after all and had the capability of acting out of pure kindness. After the adventure you went through together, you two kept in touch and indirectly hinted to him you would do him any favor he needed free of charge.
He realised he did not like the idea of you dead the night you stumbled to his place, nearly dead. You fell forward in his arms, feeling blood soaking on his clothes and he saw blood dripping on the floor in the corner of his eye. Immediately gathering that you needed his attention and whatever happened was undoubtedly urgent, he placed you on his bed, giving no thought to his sheets turning red in an instant. You look like you just got beaten in the face with bruises and a black eye but that was no worse than the wound on your abdomen, though you at least applied pressure to it.
“What have you been doing?” Aragorn shook his head. You tried to answer but he shushed you. “No, no, rest. Now is not the right time to scold you.”
You never protested, quickly entering a deep slumber as he tended to you, humming to himself.
-
As he waited for you to wake, he gained an interest in your hair. Combing it to take the tangles out was a tiresome task, but after that, he was mesmerised with your hair and he ran his fingers through it. It was long, fluffy and soft and he thought how he never imagined you with such beautiful hair.
He started braiding your hair while singing a song in Elvish, half because he was curious to see how you look with braids and half because the act comforted him. He couldn’t explain it, but perhaps braiding your hair was his unique way of letting out his stress and worry from keeping you alive.
No words were spoken and no conversation can be held if only one person is conscious, yet Aragorn felt he got closer to you this way.
-
When you awoke approximately five days later, Aragorn was sitting on a chair by the bed. You were showing signs of consciousness and he spent the time reading a book. He put it down as you sat up on the bed.
“How do you feel?”
“Better,” you said. “Thank you, Strider. I never underestimated you but I never knew you had a skilled hand in healing either.”
Calling him Strider no longer felt right and he thought about it for a second before saying, “Aragorn. My name is Aragorn.”
“Aragorn,” you repeated. “Aragorn. That is a lovely name. Fits you. It sounds… kingly.”
That is a story to be told at a later time, Aragorn thought.
“I cheated someone out of money,” you explained as you looked down your wounds. “There was a man who paid me a hefty sum to kill one of his enemies. I couldn’t turn it down, I needed the money-”
“Of course,” said Aragorn, unsurprised.
“Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, when I found who I was looking for, I couldn’t kill him. He was begging for his life, he’s far from the first to do that. But I couldn’t do it and I lowered my knife. He started crying and fell to his knees, saying that he would do anything.”
“I told him to run away. Take on a different name, live a new life. He thanked me over and over again, and when I left, that I was the last I saw of him. I don’t know if he did actually run away, but I like to think he did. But the man that paid me, found out I let him go, and, well, let’s say he was not happy I took his money for nothing.”
“He gave me one hit as you can see and got me in the gut.” You pointed at your black eye then at your abdominal wound. “But if I were to die, I wanted to make sure I would kill the one who did it so I can take them with me, and I did. I cut his throat and he was dead instantly.”
“To tell you the truth, Aragorn, I’m not sure how I lived. Maybe the gods decided it’s not my time to go just yet, or maybe not.” You shrugged. “I’m not even sure why I thought of coming to your place. I guess I thought I wanted to see you one last time. Well, it doesn’t matter, coming here turned out to be the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
Aragorn smiled. “I’m glad you came to me, for multiple reasons. Do you know what I think? You’re starting to see the beauty in sparing others.”
“There was no point in killing him. I don’t think he did anything wrong. The one that wanted him dead? I can name a lot of things he did that would frighten the most brutal of orcs.”
 That wasn’t the point and Aragorn could believe it flew over your head completely, but he knew there was some kindness in you that was not yet lost.
“I know what you’re thinking. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you tell me, and maybe you’re right. It’s not worth killing people over money. Sometimes, I see the families of lost loved ones and it does make me feel a lot of guilt. That’s why I started to cheat people out instead. Obviously, that comes with a lot of uncertainty.”
Nothing you ever did had any certainty in it.
You brought up your hand to presumably push back your hair, but found your hair neatly braided.
“I think the idea of you braiding hair is silly. But I guess I underestimated how little I really know you. You should open up more. Believe me, it helps.”
-
“Me? Aragorn, you want me as your queen? You’re not doing this to make me feel better, are you?”
Assuming you said yes, Aragorn understood he would spend the rest of his life explaining why he chose you over any other woman. Having a better life was your motivation for everything you did, yet when you are faced with the option of becoming a queen, you try to turn it down and avoid it like it was the plague. True, the people of Minas Tirith would most likely revolt if they found out their queen was a once scandalous rogue with bounties placed on her head and was a subject that struck fear in the Northmen’s hearts.
But Aragorn would not want to marry anyone that isn’t you, and if they had a problem with you as his wife, then they had him to deal with.
It was the council at Rivendell where you found out who Aragorn really was and you were upset that he never told you before that. He never thought of an appropriate time to disclose it, however.
“There is no other I love more than you,” said Aragorn. “I wish to marry you and I will give you the security and stability you sought for in life. But if you prefer simplicity in the North and to be away from me, then I shall respect that and ensure you are accompanied by Legolas and Gimli for a safe ride back home.”
“But why me?” You repeated. “I’m not fit to be a queen, I am no queen, Aragorn. Nor do I deserve to be one. Oh, Aragorn, I do love you and I always have! I will marry you, for it is what my heart has desired for years.”
 -
Years have passed and life in Gondor goes on. Frodo has sailed west with the Elves and Gandalf and Legolas and Gimli are enjoying their lives in the country. Recently, they asked Aragorn to give them leave to travel around the realms of Middle-Earth. The remaining Fellowship had left and it was just the two of you.
It took you a while to adjust to this new lifestyle. It even intimidated you a lot. At the end of each day, Aragorn would come to your shared chamber and take care of your hair and braid it, an action that was special to the both of you and makes you think of the past. You did not miss your old lifestyle and you were glad to give it up, but you missed the friends you made in the journey.
“If you were old and dying and could not move, would you let me braid your hair in return? I’m afraid doing hair is not my forte, but I had this sudden thought and I believe you would enjoy it,” you asked, looking up at him.
“I would indeed,” said Aragorn, smiling as he ran his fingers through your hair. “You can braid my hair anytime you want. Practice makes perfect. Who knows, you might be better at it than me one day.”
“No chance of that, if you were braiding since you were a small child.”
The tale of the king and his queen ended the same as any other tale with a happy ending. True, it did not start off as happy if they were initially foes, but they would not change a single thing and they only appreciated each other more for their change of hearts.
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