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#I still do think I’m just lazy. so it hurts extra bad. thanks a lot random internet stranger
moonstruckme · 7 months
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In a Week - send a character + au and I'll write a blurb for it (like vampire!Eddie, bodyguard!Sirius, etc.)
Pirate!Steddie🤭 (or just eddie, your choice)
-🔮
Thanks for requesting gorgeous!
join the party
pirate!Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 897 words
You keep your eyes steadfastly on the horizon, scanning for any sign of land. The water gleams blue-black in the moonlight, and you’re not sure if you could make out a landmass even if there was one, but you don’t have anything better to do. 
“You gonna stay there the whole time?” The boy drawls from his hammock. It’s the same one who’d helped you onto the ship earlier with long-fingered, calloused hands. “You sea sick or something?” 
“No,” you huff. “Just thinking of making a swim for it.” 
The pirate snorts. “How far are you thinking you can swim, sweetheart? The closest land is the island we picked you up on.” You turn to him, and you must look as ferocious as you feel, because he raises his hands in a lazy don’t-shoot gesture. “Hey, you’re welcome to go back if that’s what you want. Since apparently being rescued doesn’t suit you.” 
“But rescued by whom?” you spit. “Being stuck with pirates doesn't seem like a very good alternative to being stranded.” 
His mouth curls up on the right side. “You make us sound so nefarious, gorgeous. We’re trying to make ends meet, just like everyone else.” 
“Everyone else seems capable of staying within the law.” 
“But whose law?” You make no answer, and after a minute, he climbs out of his hammock. You stiffen as he comes towards you but don’t allow yourself to move away, even when he leans against the edge of the ship, barely a foot from you. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he says, and the gentleness of his tone surprises you. “What’s your name?” 
You narrow your eyes. Isn’t that sort of thing valuable information to a pirate? What if they think to hold you for ransom?
If he’s put out by your silence, he doesn’t show it. “Fair enough. Mine’s Eddie.” 
He sticks out a hand, and you shake it warily, eyeing the knife at his belt all the while. 
“Listen,” he goes on, undeterred by your hostility. “I know you probably have lots of ideas about pirates, and how we’re all wild, evil brutes, but no one here is going to hurt you.” He looks you in the eye, raising his eyebrows imploringly. “I promise, okay? We’re hoping to make land by the end of the week, and then you can run if you want, or I can help you figure out how to get wherever you wanna go. Sound good?” 
You look at him, the contrast between the warm brown of his eyes and the cold steel of his knife confusing you. You don’t know if you can trust him, but you suppose you don’t have much choice. 
“Okay,” you say finally. “Why would you do that, though? Why even bother taking me with you?” 
Eddie shrugs, relaxing a bit now that you no longer look like you’re going to take a dive over the edge of the ship. “Why not? We’ve got enough food to feed an extra mouth, and we’re still making money whether we help people out or not.” 
Making money…”Through robbery, you mean.” 
Eddie doesn’t bristle like you expect him to. “Depends on who you ask. If one group of people takes money from another and we intercept it somewhere in the middle, is it any more stolen than it already was?” 
You go quiet again, and Eddie gives you a soft sort of smile. “I’m not trying to lecture you, sweetheart, I just want you to understand that we’re not bad guys. At least,” he allows, “we don’t see ourselves that way. You’re safe here.” 
“Alright,” you say quietly, finding yourself closer and closer to believing him. “Thank you.” 
Eddie’s grin looks almost goofy. “No thanks necessary,” he assures you. “Think you might be able to sleep now, though? I find being stuck on a ship with the same people every day does not mix well with sleep deprivation. Don’t need you getting snappy with the Captain tomorrow.” 
You gnaw on your lip, looking warily around the ship for a safe corner to curl up in. You don’t want to go below deck with the rest of the men, but you don’t like the idea of one of them stumbling upon you up here in the morning either. 
Eddie seems to wisen to your dilemma, nodding pensively. “You can have my hammock, if you want. I’ve got an extra few blankets, I could make myself a bed right next to it so nobody bothers you.” 
You look at him hopefully, too exhausted and on edge to feel guilty. “Really?”
He chuckles, nudging you in the direction of the hammock. “Sure, sweetheart. We’ll figure out something better in the morning.” 
You climb into the hammock, shifting around awkwardly until you find a comfortable position. You watch over the edge as Eddie folds the blankets he’s stored nearby, making a little sleeping pad for himself. You try to imagine this boy holding his knife to a sailor’s throat, laughing at bloodshed, burning villages to the ground. He looks up at you as he gets settled, flashing you a smile and a dorky thumbs-up. You can’t picture it. 
“Goodnight,” you say quietly, letting your body relax into its fabric cradle. 
“Sleep tight,” Eddie sing-songs, and with that last reassurance, you let the shushing of the waves lull you to sleep.
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writingwithcolor · 3 years
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Tragedy Exploitation and Characters of Colour
hi! i've browsed your blog for a while now and it's been really helpful to me, so first off, thank you. i was wondering about something tho, i recently saw your response to a person explaining their story idea that revolved around two lovers, where one was cursed to kill the other and the other was always resurrected only for it to repeat, and i believe the characters were POC. in your response you seemed quite upset that such a plot was happening to POC characters specifically and it confused me because it sort of read as if you were mad that a bad thing was happening to a POC character in a story, which i genuinely didn't understand (i really don't want to sound rude, i'm being sincere), because it came off as advocating for only good and happy and nice things to be reserved for POC characters and if an author dared write something bad or traumatic happening to a POC character it's immediately 'poor narrative', and i personally don't agree with that take, because i feel like that reduces a POC character to just being POC instead of a person, which I feel like hurts POC rep in fiction, because being upset someone wrote something bad happening to a POC character makes it all about just that character being POC instead of just a regular person something bad has happened to in the story that just happens to be a person of color at the same time. my god this has gotten long, i got very interested in hearing more about this because i personally didn't quite understand and it sounded wrong to me, your original response. if you do reply to this, thank you, i hope i didn't sound rude, i do genuinely want to learn, because even tho i typed all this out i still feel like i'm wrong about this & missed the point somewhere
Disclaimer: please do not pile onto the ask about a Black woman murdered by her lover, as the asker has realized the issues with the ask. We are presently addressing the attitude of “why can’t bad things happen to PoC?” in this comment, with the name retracted, because it’s an attitude that crops up every once and awhile.
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You have missed our extensive backlog of posts about double standards re: PoC and white characters, wherein we describe, at length, how we are uncomfortable that PoC characters get extra bad stuff that’s treated as “organic” because our history is full of suffering, when white characters often don’t get that same thing.
like White Authors and Topics to Avoid/Tread Carefully
and Writing About PoC Trials and Tribulations
We ask that people question why they decide to automatically make someone suffering a violent constant-death-loop be a person of colour, especially multiply marginalized (Black, woman, LGBTQ+). Because there are already too many stories of characters of colour (especially multiply marginalized) suffering needlessly and oftentimes worse than the white characters for the sake of a plot.
You completely misread the heart of the reply, which was “why are you forcing Black women to suffer the worst fate imaginable (murder) in one of the most emotionally heartbreaking way imaginable (at the hands of your lover) multiple times in order to “earn her happy ending”? this is tragedy exploitation and is making a mockery of trauma”
PoC already have enough stories about us traumatized by circumstance. And while we can suffer, narratively, part of systemic racism is only telling stories of PoC when we are suffering as the sole marker of the plot. Especially when characters of colour are suffering disproportionately to lighter skinned characters.
You also missed the part where Marika said that even if it were white characters, they would be uncomfortable because constantly pulling out murder as a curse is lazy writing.
All we ask is: why did the asker decide that a woman of colour must suffer to the point of repeated murder before she can be happy? Why does she have to forgive the person who did it to her? Because that is a logic born of passive racism that tells people: women of colour, especially darker skinned/Black women, can “handle anything”. And that is a lie.
~Mod Lesya
Echoing Lesya, I’m puzzled as to how you came to the conclusion that “If an author dared to write something bad or traumatic happening to a POC character, it’s immediately a poor narrative” when I explicitly said I thought this was cheap theatrics and tragedy exploitation even if both characters were white, particularly as the ask had given me no conception of the author’s motivation in using the curse as a dramatic device. In Japanese, we jokingly use the word 中二病 (Chuunibyo) or “8th grade disease” to describe edgelord phases for teens. This is a 中二病 plot device. It’s perfectly fine for niche angst addicts on ao3, but not something I would be able to take seriously in a more substantive work aimed at a larger audience. I think it is also telling that even the original asker has commented that they independent of our answer concluded this was a poor plot choice.
Finally, with respect to your question of the usage of negative tropes like the ones mentioned in this ask (Misogynoir and Bury Your Gays), I am concerned that you do not understand the motive for this blog. Our purpose is to provide instruction to those who wish to use diversity in their writing in an inclusive manner in ways that resonate with marginalized populations. We are not proposing a ban on tropes. They are tools, but like all tools, they have appropriate forms of use. Do you honestly think that many BIPOC individuals would be happy to read a story with this kind of tragedy exploitation? And how would you, as an author, factor in their impressions when writing your own works?
No one can stop a writer from pursuing the narratives they wish to pursue, but the opinions a writer is primarily concerned with says a lot about who a writer believes their work is for. Let us say I were to write a story with a gratuitous depiction of sexual assault purely for the shock value, despite never having experienced sexual assault myself? How might survivors of sexual assault regard both me and my work? Now imagine BIPOC individuals whose main experience with representation in media is seeing characters look like them die from the kinds of violence that are common for them to experience, and it should become clear that an author who adopts these approaches, at a bare minimum, is being exceptionally tactless. A writer who finds no issue with tragedy exploitation involving BIPOC characters is likely not a writer who cares about what the BIPOC members of their audience think, or, even worse, does not even factor BIPOC perspectives into their writing.
- Marika
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Hello! I saw an old post of yours abt sex and chronic pain and I guess I wanted to see if you or anyone else would have any advice for me!
I'm unfortunately having a bad flare day- and I think a large amount of it is because my partner and I did stuff yesterday. My partner is very sweet and kind about my condition, and always asks me during if the things we're doing are okay. The thing is, I always want to try even if it hurts because I love doing it and I miss being able to do it without such awful pain.
I can't find a position that doesn't make me hurt a lot afterward. Him on top of me makes my legs and hips hurt (legs in air), me on top of him makes my hips and knees hurt, from behind makes my hips and knees hurt, and forget any of my weight being on my hands. My disability has taken over every aspect of my life and I'm so frustrated. I just want to enjoy myself for once.
If you or anyone else has some advice on positions or pain relief I would really appreciate it!!! Thank you so much 💜💜💜
SEX AND CHRONIC ILLNESS;
Hi, there love,
I swear I have a defective Tumblr and I never get any noti's from my inbox, so I'm sorry if you sent this months ago!
I'm gonna try to give my best advice and hope that my followers will also help with advice.
First of all, pretty much any physical activity can throw me into a flare so I can understand that sex can definitely have a real impact on flares. You are most definitely not alone. I can also empathise with the frustration of your disability taking a lot from you and your life. I am so happy you're partner is supportive too and I hope that you guys are great at communicating with each other about sex which is probably the MOST important thing in this. I am going to give my advice under the assumption that you guys have great, healthy communication.
Sex positions that could be worth a try, it seems as if any stretching of the hips and pressure on the knees and hands are out of the questions so here are not only some of my all-time favourites, but also should be friendly for these issues:
Lazy doggy (lying face down on your stomach with your legs together): that way you don't need any weight bearing on knees or hands, no stretching of the hips and you basically just lay face down, I like this position as it also takes little energy and it's quite easy for you or your partner to stimulate your clitoris at the same time. you can also try this position with a pillow or wedge under your hips for a different angle and extra support on your hips
Spooning sex: I find this a great position, you just lay on your side, your good side that day, and sometimes putting a pillow between your knees can help with that.
I personally don't fuck with this position but standing up sex facing a wall is also considered to be pretty easy on these joints.
This one is slightly harder to explain (its a modified missionary variant) but if you are laying on your back and you put your legs straight or bent vertically and lay them on your partner's chest (kind of like an L position with the legs up), and then he would be either standing or on his knees (so your partner would be the P and u the L; PL). This means your hips aren't stretched outward, your knees and hands don't have pressure on them, your partner does not have their body weight on you and your partner can hold onto your legs for extra support. You can add a pillow under your hips for extra support. I really hope this makes sense, and if someone knows if this has an actual name, please help!
You could also try a seated position and you could face away from him to keep the hip angle easier
other general tips;
Take MAD advantage of pillows and wedges; this could help with him on top of you if you bulk up on either side of your hips so you don't have to strain or stretch as much.
Rethink your idea of sex: some days there may be no position that is comfortable. Sex is whatever feels good for you. You don't need penetration to have sex. Have your partner go down on you or stimulate you with their hands. If you really like the penetrative feeling, buy some toys and your partner can use them on you in any position that's comfy for you. Buy lots of sex toys, to be honest, that can be super fun and accessible. You can get full pleasure and give full pleasure without vagina/penis penetration.
Something my therapist has taught me is to pace myself and practice patience with MYSELF! I can tell you probably push yourself because you always want to still try even if it hurts. For example, I don't exercise, but one day I decided to go to the trampoline park and do gymnastics (i used to do gymnastics) and then was fucked for a week. Another example, I tried to do gymnastics at home and broke my foot. Just keep throwing myself into the deep end and end up making it worse; 1 step forward, 12 steps back. So pace yourself, and practice patience, and don't be too hard on yourself. Treat yourself with kindness.
I know sex is often spontaneous, but honestly stretching and warming up could help, and maybe even during foreplay, you could get a massage to warm up and connect with your partner. Also if you know you're going to have sex, you could take some painkillers or weed (if you're into it) beforehand.
I really really really hope that a) everything made sense and b) that it would actually help! Please send me a message if you feel comfortable if this helped at all.
Please leave your most accessible sex positions in the comments or reblog with advice!
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Klutz
MAIN MASTERLIST
Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 1,100ish
Summary: You’re a major klutz. Luckily, Steve is always there for you. (Klutz means a clumsy, awkward or foolish person.)
Notes: I think this is gender neutral!!! Let me know if it isn’t, but I’m pretty sure we’re good!
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You were known to be a klutz. Tripping over yourself, spilling things, the whole works. The team always got a laugh at it, even when you got hurt. Though you never got too hurt, which they were grateful for because they really did worry. Especially your boyfriend Steve.
As the leader of the Avengers, Steve took it upon himself to worry about everyone. You he worried about a lot more than the others. He was always extremely worried about you on missions, but very thankful that your clumsiness never entered the battlefield. Steve couldn’t imagine what it would be like if you were like that during a mission. He might never let you leave the compound, let alone the quinjet.
You and Steve were currently walking out of the quinjet together, just coming back from a tiring mission. His arm was carefully placed around your waist to keep you close and so that he could easily catch you if you fell.
“Can we go straight to bed, Stevie?” You mumbled as you leaned on him for support. “‘m tired.”
“Of course, sweetie,” he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your head.
As you walked, leaning much of your weight on your boyfriend, you tripped on your own two feet. But before you could go crashing down, Steve had you pulled up into his arms to carry you the rest of the way. 
He chuckled. “How you don’t ever hurt yourself on missions is beyond me.”
“It’s my superpower,” you replied with a sly smirk. You buried your face in his neck. “And thankfully I have you to save me the rest of the time.”
“Always.”
~~~
That night, your mind was being mean to you. The mission had gone great, but for some reason your mind was reminding you of all the ways it could have. Steve dying. Restart. You dying. Restart. The people you were trying to safe dying. Restart. Repeat.
You finally startled yourself awake, panting and sweating slightly. You turned on your side to face your personal furnace, only to find him peacefully asleep. You longed to be pulled into his arms and held by him but you also knew how hard it was from him to get sleep. With a quiet sigh, you brushed his longer blonde locks from his forehead.
After one quick run through his hair with your fingers, you determined that you weren’t going back to sleep anytime soon. You slipped out of bed, grabbing an unused blanket and wrapping it around yourself as you exited the room. Too lazy to turn on the lights, you snuffled down the hall towards your and Steve’s private kitchen.
With your mind still muddled from sleep and the dream, you failed to remember the four steps you needed to go down. In a mixture of tripping over the blanket and missing the first step, you fell down the stairs. You cried out in pain as you hit your head against the wall. Coming to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, you inhaled sharply as tears pricked your eyes. Your head was pounding and you cradled your ankle, clearing having done something to it.
You had tried to not break into sobs, but you couldn’t help yourself. So caught up in the pain, you failed to hear Steve’s running down the hall.
“Y/N!” He called, worry heavily laced in his voice. “Honey!” 
Steve came to a skidding stop on top of the steps, taking in the sight before him. Though he was heart broken at your state, he was relieved that no one had hurt you. He quickly came down to you, checking you over.
“What happened?” He asked softly.
“I… I had a—a nightmare,” you stuttered between trying to calm your hiccuping sobs. “And then—I tried to head to the k-kitchen. I forgot about the steps… I missed the first one while I tripped over the blanket.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He cupped your face, wiping your tears with his thumb. “What hurts?”
“My—my ankle and…” you swallowed. “My head.”
Carefully, while still cupping your face, Steve moved your head so that he could examine it. He ended up using one hand to check for any bumps or bleeding.
“Looks like there’s a small bump,” he said. “No bleeding. But the bump will probably be bigger in the morning. Let me see that ankle now.”
You moved the corner of the blanket that was covering your ankle, confirming your suspicions of an already forming bruise. Steve clicked his tongue and shook his head slightly. He gently lifting your foot up, causing you to whimper.
“And I think you twisted that pretty bad,” he continued. “We’ll have Bruce check it out in the morning. Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”
Steve carefully picked you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Laying your head on his chest, you closed your heads, trying to focus on something other than the pain. He took you into your room and laid you down on the bed. He grabbed some extra pillows, putting one under your head and two under your ankle. Leaning down, he kissed your lips softly.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” Steve whispered. “I’m going to go grab ice and painkillers.”
He rushed out of the room to get the promised items. Steve was back quicker than you expected. He handed your a water bottle and pain meds for you to take while he got ice situated around your ankle. After that, he pained place an ice pack behind your head.
“How are you feeling, my little klutz?” He asked sincerely, but was trying to suppress a smirk. 
“Better,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He gave you a quick kiss. “Need anything else?”
“Cuddles?”
Steve smiled with a nod. He moved around the bed so that he could lay on his side. He slid over to your side, carefully wrapping his arms around your waist. Unfortunately, he couldn’t hold you as close as you would like, but it was good enough.
“Good?” He confirmed.
“Good,” you responded, eyes getting heavy.
“Wanna talk about the dream?”
“No… it’s fine. It was just my brain playing tricks on me.”
“Okay. Next time, wake me up before you try to venture the hallway without bothering to turn on the lights. You know that FRIDAY could do that for you, right?”
“It was too hard,” you slurred, almost asleep.
Steve let out a soft chuckle before kissing your temple. “I’ll let you sleep now. Good night my little klutz.”
TAGLIST INFORMATION
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kybee1497 · 3 years
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Julie likes to borrow people’s clothes as a comfort thing. A visual, sensory, physical reminder that she’s loved and she has a little piece of that person with her sometimes. It helps her feel more grounded and present and it helps when she has bad days.
Before her mom died, it was less about comfort and a little more about being one of her love languages.
She was only friends with Flynn for four months before she ‘stole’ Flynn’s monster slippers for a few days. Now it’s a standard part of their Christmas presents to each other. They get a new pair of slippers and wear them once or twice before swapping for the new year.
Before things went down with Carrie, the three of them had clothes stashed at each other’s houses and weren’t shy about wearing whatever they grabbed first. Julie came to school once when she was 12 wearing Flynn’s cheetah print hat, Carries pink sweatshirt, and her own jeans she’d doodled on.
She borrowed her dads shirts for playing pirate queen when she was little.
But after her mom died it became a little more about keeping the people she loved closer to her. A reminder that they were there and loved her and everything was okay. And she wears her moms clothes sometimes to help her feel a bit closer. Her mom was gone but sometimes, when julie pulled a sweater out from the back of the closet, it still smelled like her moms perfume, and when she wrapped herself up in the warm, soft material it almost felt like being wrapped in her moms arms when she was small. For just a minute, it’s like having her back again. Then the feeling fades and Julies left with a time worn sweater with its fading scent, and it’s still enough, for now. It’s not the same, not at all, but it makes it a little bit easier to get through the day when all she wants to do is crawl back into bed with her head under the pillow and forget the world for the day.
She wears one of Carlos’s hats the entire week he’s gone at baseball camp the first summer after her mom died, reminding herself that it’s fine, and Carlos is fine, and he’ll be home in a week, and everything will be fine.
We already see in canon that she wears a lot of her moms clothes for performances because it helps her to feel closer to her mom. You can’t tell me julie wouldn’t have her own. Eventually she stops wearing her moms clothes for everyday activities, but even years down the road, Julie still incorporates something of her moms into each performance outfit. A dahlia pin, a necklace, a belt, etc.
Slowly as Julie heals and grows, borrowing clothes slowly regains some of the playfullness and affection it had before. It’s still got some of the needing an anchor bit that it had before but it’s not the only thing keeping her afloat anymore.
The first summer after Julie and the Phantoms was formed. Julies summer wardrobe consisted half of her own clothes and half Luke’s cut off shirts because “It’s really fucking hot outside Luke and these are more comfortable than anything else I own.” Luke just about dies a second time the first time he pops into Julie’s room while she’s laying across the foot of her bed, scribbling in her song book, and he sees that she’s wearing a pair of cut offs and his Rush shirt. You would think after the first few times he would be used to it but the boys brain glitches every time. Flynn thinks it’s hilarious.
She falls asleep in the studio one night and walks up warm and content with Reggie’s leather jacket draped over her. The boys are out for the morning and she’s running late so she slips her hands in the sleeves and wears it to school for the day. Luke trips over the air when she walks in that afternoon wearing it because Julie and leather jacket and pretty and adorable. He doesn’t even clock that it’s Reggie’s until Julie is handing it back at the end of the night with a soft smile and a thank you.
Julie wouldn’t dare to borrow Alex’s fanny pack, it’s sacred. No ones really sure exactly what he keeps in there but he always has exactly what they need. Reggie’s convinced it’s magic and Julie almost agrees, but Alex’s pink sweatshirt on the other hand, that’s fair game. It’s softer and cozier than it looks and it becomes julies new favorite thing. Alex is fine with it. Sometimes he grumbles about being cold but he just curls into Willie instead and always cuts her off when she offers it back.
Flynn won’t say it out loud but sometimes she buys clothes that are more Julies style than her own because Julie hates buying new clothes but she loves borrowing (and keeping) them and Julie needs some new, cute clothes in her wardrobe because while her boys may be cute, none of them have good fashion sense. Except for maybe Alex, but his style is more 90’s gay icon which is incredible but not really Julies thing. So flynn gets a new sweater or a dress and wears it a few times, maybe leaves it out when julie comes over or throws an extra jacket in her backpack on days that she knows julie was up late writing with Luke and would likely forget her lunch, a text book and at least a jacket on her mad dash out the door. It’s what Flynn called working the system. Julie got to show her affection and cute clothes, and Flynn got to play stylist. It was the best of both worlds.
A year later, when Carrie wants to talk and apologizes, when they slowly work their way back into a friendship. Julie fishes one of the triple threat shirts she had stashed in the back of her closet that she liked to forget she kept and pulls it on under a hoodie before school that day. Thankfully they’d messed up when they were ordering the shirts and ordered adult sizing instead of youth. So it fit perfectly at 17 where they’d been night shirts at 8. Interestingly enough, Carries also wearing a sweatshirt that day and Julie catches a glimpse the familiar lettering of -antoms on the back of the shirt underneath when they’re changing for PE. The day they both wore something that reminded them of the other without talking about it or showing it off, was the day the tentative part of tentative friendship was finally removed. There’s still some days where old hurts ache a bit more than usual because even small wounds leave scars, and some of the wounds were far from small. Sometimes Carrie starts to mention rose and Julie flinches. Just a bit, it wouldn’t even be super noticeable if they hadn’t known each other that well, if carrie hadn’t spent a year watching Julie flinch every time she opened her mouth. Carrie hates a lot of things about herself, but that one, that one was by far the worst. Not everything can be forgiven, but they can move forward and sometimes that’s enough.
Idk this got super long and idk if it makes sense anymore and I’m too lazy to edit it but JULIE MOLINA IS A CLOTHES THIEF and I love that for her. Also I might fuck around and flesh this out into a fic later when I’m not so slammed with wips.
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atlabeth · 3 years
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transferred part 20 - atla smau
part 19 | masterlist | epilogue
summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.
a/n: me when i have to write more than 5 words in a series thats supposed to be a smau
anywho! basically the last chapter?? which is crazy?? filled with heartfelt emotions and the moment that you've all been waiting for, it's a wild ride. so strap in and enjoy. the epilogue will be posted later today so i can finally wrap this series up!! and dont worry theres a super long sappy authors note on the epilogue. LETS GET INTO IT
wc: 2.3k
warning(s): cursing, mentions of alcohol, hurt/comfort, one suggestive comment, mentions of toxic relationships, reader talking about her self sabotaging behavior and burnout, Bad Coping Methods (dont disappear kids)
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“You haven’t seen her?” Zuko sighed as the same words he had heard on repeat for the past hour played through his ears again. “It’s alright, thank you. Have a good night.”
He shook his head at his friends, their defeated expressions mirroring his own as he leaned against the kitchen island. He ran an exhausted hand through his hair, and he couldn’t help but think of the countless times you had done it for him.
“Your sister doesn’t play when it comes to theatrics,” Aang lamented as he plopped on the couch next to Sokka.
“Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I mean, she doesn’t pull stuff like this. Sometimes she went over the top when she was younger, staying out a little too late or doing something stupid, but she never just… she never just tried to disappear like this. I.. I guess she was too worried about Katara and me to do anything like that, but still.” He knocked back the rest of the seltzer and tossed the can on the table — alcohol was tempting, but none of them wanted to be any less than completely aware tonight.
“We all knew she was hurting,” Sokka continued. “Not even she could be fine after everything that happened with Hahn, especially the day after, but I— I guess I thought that she would open up before just dropping off the radar completely!
“No news from the girls,” Aang announced, prompting a collective sigh from the other two boys. “I gotta give it to her, she’s been very thorough with this.”
“Of course she has. It’s classic Y/N — she can disappear without a trace, sure, but she can’t put enough effort into picking up some supplies for my project on her way home.” It was a lame attempt to lighten the mood, and though he got a weak chuckle out of Aang, it was radio silence on Zuko’s part.
“Hey, buddy.” It didn’t snap him out of his reverie, and Sokka seriously contemplated throwing his empty soda can at him. “You okay?”
“She didn’t even say anything to me,” he finally murmured, eyes trained on his phone screen. “She said she would tell me if she was having a hard time, but she didn’t say anything to me. Just suffered in silence until it got so bad she just up and left. She just… left. Without a single word to anyone. To me.”
Aang’s eyes softened and he let out a loose exhale. “Zuko, she didn’t mean to hurt you — I know that much. She’s just been under a lot of stress lately, and… I guess it didn’t manifest in the best way.”
“Stress...” he muttered, trying to piece it together. There was something nagging at the back of his skull, something on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t get it. “And you guys are sure she hasn’t put anything anywhere? No texts that you missed, nothing?”
“Believe me,” Sokka said. “I’ve refreshed her pages a thousand times by now. It’s radio silence on her side. God, I wish I was more invasive and put like, a tracking device on her car or something! For all we know, she could be back to Kyoshi.”
Kyoshi. Stress. This whole thing, your disappearing act.
And suddenly, it clicked.
Zuko stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the stool in the process and warranting puzzled looks from both of his friends as he grabbed his keys off the table and practically ran to the door.
“Zuko, where are you going?” Aang questioned.
He tugged the door open and shot a glance back at them, tension having noticeably dissolved from his shoulders.
“I know where she is.”
-
Zuko tapped idly against the steering wheel, once again glancing down at his phone screen but to no avail. His relationship with you had become infinitely more complicated since the kiss through fault of both of them — he supposed that was what happened when two people who didn’t know how to talk about their emotions caught feelings for each other. Zuko was very skilled at sticking his foot in his mouth whenever he tried to talk about anything like this, and
But you had accepted his offer to talk on the way home, so that meant something.
He had originally suggested just talking on the way home like he had proposed earlier, but you had a different idea. ‘Trust me,’ you had told him. ‘It has a good track record with making people feel better.’
Your proposition was a wildflower field on the outskirts of the city, just out of the way that someone would go en route to the university. Far enough from the city to emanate an aura of peace, but close enough to be a feasible trip.
“I found this place when I was missing home,” you smiled as he parked the car. “I love it here, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I just feel homesick for Kyoshi. You passed a field like this on the way into town, and when I stumbled here, it just kinda felt like fate. So now whenever I’m stressed, or overwhelmed, or just need a break, I come out here. And I think this is the perfect place to talk about… well, whatever’s going on with us.”
“Sounds good.” He returned the sentiment then cleared his throat. “As long as we don’t go in there. I can admire it from afar, but just looking at that field is making my skin itch.”
You laughed and nodded amiably. “Deal.”
-
One hand was splayed against your chest, the other trailing lazy circles with the pads of your fingers against the metal as you gazed up at the sky. You had the best and only seat of the view, the flora drifting softly in the night breeze as the stars twinkled from above.
You didn’t know what you were thinking, being here. The past couple of weeks had just been… crushing you. It was like your heart was stuck in a vice and no matter what you did, it just got tighter and tighter.
You had been treating everyone you knew horribly, but you couldn’t stop. It felt like a game — how terribly could you act towards them until they snapped too? Until your friends, your siblings, Zuko, recognized that they had made a mistake by trying to help you?
And you didn’t know what it was about today, but… something inside of you just broke after that morning with your roommates. So you did what you were best at, and you ran. Skipped class, skipped work, just drove around aimlessly until even that was starting to feel like too much of a trap.
And then you ended up here.
It would’ve been laughable if you weren’t on the verge of breaking down.
You had been here, just laying on the hood of your car parked a few feet away from the field on an off road path, for the better part of an hour. If you were going to drown underneath the weight of your thoughts, it was better to do it alone.
But as you heard the crunching of gravel underneath car tires, your eyes instinctively shot towards the noise — so much for being alone — and you sat up. Your brows furrowed in recognition, you knew that car, and it felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest when Zuko stepped out.
“You remembered,” you breathed after a moment of silence. “You’re here.”
“Always.” He said it so obviously, so easily — why wouldn’t he remember? Why wouldn’t he be here?
You scooted over to make space on the hood and patted the space next to you softly, pulling your knees up to your chest in a moment of shame as he walked around to the front and pushed himself up next to you. What were you going to say to him? What could you say?
“I’m sorry,” you said out of the blue, your words pouring out of you like an emotional waterfall. “I’m sorry for just— for just leaving, I know it was stupid and I know they’re all probably worried out of their minds, but I couldn’t do it, Zuko. I-it was like I was trapped, and I know it was irrational, but I had to get out of there—”
“You didn’t have to,” he said quietly, effectively stopping your rant. “If you really had to get out, you could’ve at least said something to one of us. I don’t know what things were like back at Kyoshi, but here— here, you can’t throw yourself back onto the knife every time something goes wrong, because— you just can’t do that anymore.”
“I’m not mad, believe me, I’m relieved that you’re okay. I just..” he sighed and glanced up at the night sky, the light of the moon illuminating his features as he faced you once more. “I know you’ve felt alone before, but you’re not. You have Katara, and Sokka, Suki, Toph— you have me, Y/N! And I’m not going anywhere, trust me, but— but you can’t keep doing this to yourself, because they care about you, and I care about you.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and chose to concentrate on the hood of the car, tapping your fingers against the metal as a way to use up your nervous energy. “You’re… you’re right,” you said after a long moment of silence, the beginnings of a mirthless smile on your lips.
“After that night at the party, I just— I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. There was a part of me that just wanted to lock myself in my room and never come out, but I— I told myself I was better than that, and I refused to let myself fall back onto any of it. So I worked. I took extra shifts, I helped out my professors, I did anything and everything I could to try and keep my mind off of Hahn. But I wasn’t helping anything, I was just… I was destroying myself. It was just like you said. I was a candle burning at both ends but still convinced that I was doing the right thing, and eventually.. I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I ran.”
“And— there’s always been this… this voice in my head that pops up after things in my life are going good, and it tells me that something is going to go wrong. A-and it tells me that if I’m the one that ruins it, then I don’t have to ask myself what I did wrong, if I could’ve stopped it from happening— if it’s inevitable, then I should be the one to ruin it. It’s how most of my relationships ended, and— well, the only thing it’s succeeded in is making me miserable.”
You don’t even notice your hands are shaking until you feel Zuko placing his own over yours — a simple gesture asking an unsaid question, one you answer by intertwining his fingers with your own.
“That same voice popped up again once I started getting close to you,” you admitted quietly. “And this whole time, I’ve been so terrified of falling that I never considered you would catch me. But I’m tired, Zuko. I’m tired of constantly looking over the edge.”
As you turned your head to meet his eyes again, your breath caught in your throat at his close proximity. You were sure that no matter how much time you spent with him, your heart would never stop beating out of your chest for Zuko.
“I will always be there to catch you,” he affirmed softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
And just like before, he brought his hand to the side of your face and tenderly brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hand, slightly calloused but emanating comfort all the same, lingered on your cheek for a moment before he posed the question.
“Can I kiss you?”
You nodded, and his lips captured your own immediately. You reciprocated with an almost desperate fervor and— and it just felt so right. You had grown so accustomed to the constant warmth he carried with him that it had become a part of you, he had become a part of you, and now a life without Zuko was just unimaginable.
He was right — he already was there to catch you, each and every time. Giving you endless rides when your car broke down, sitting through the world’s most boring anthro projects, letting you bare your soul to him, telling you it was all going to be okay when nothing felt okay, and managing to find you when you had gone out of your way to not be found. And all of it— it all made you realize.
You didn’t want to keep running. And you didn’t have to. Not anymore.
Zuko pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, breathing slightly labored as the two of you sat in comfortable silence. That is, until you broke it.
“So,” you started, a nervous chuckle following. “Are we… are we a thing now?”
You could tell that caught him by surprise by the laugh that escaped him, a sound of unfiltered joy. “I’d say that we are.”
You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks once more as he slid off of the hood of the car and held out his hand, an offering you took happily. “We should get home,” he said, somewhat reluctantly. “It’s past midnight, and—” Zuko glanced at his phone and grimaced. “They’re all still worried out of their minds.”
“Right,” you muttered. “I’m gonna get the lecture of my life from Sokka and Katara.”
“Probably,” he chuckled. “But they’re just doing their job as concerned siblings.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and glanced back at his own car. “I’ll see you back at the apartment?”
You nodded, an uncontrollable smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you, Zuko. For this, and— for everything.”
He returned the sentiment, golden eyes filled with adoration.
“Always.”
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if your name is crossed out it means i can’t tag you!
perm taglist: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin
transferred: @ourbestfriend-mishacollins @lil-lex1 @xxshad0wxb1rdxx @zuko-is-the-sun @akiris @irohs-teapot @thatarthistorynerd @charlenasaxen @minninugget @marvel-ousnesss @count-thotticus @what-ye-egg @furblrwurblr @thesstuff @mariachiii @ietss @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @xbarrjallenx @tommy-braccoli @dreamsluvrr @floofybread @thelovelylolly @lin-biefong-is-my-life @tiffanyy-21 @sistheselenophile @theincredibledeadlyviper @bakugouswh0r3 @loganrwebb @mikaslilworld @matsunshine @iris-suoh @aizameow @h3llbun @kozuelle
atla: @marianne1806
191 notes · View notes
equizona · 3 years
Note
Hiii!! How are you? I hope you are doing great💕✨
I wanted to request headcanons for the bros having a normal dinner at the HoL until Mc who used to have really long hair shows up with a self-cuted bob, you can tell they cutted it by themselves but it’s still cute. When the bros asked about it they responded that they were having a really bad day and they cut their hair as an alternative to self harm.
If you feel uncomfortable you can skip the self harm part! I understand! I was just having a bad day and I decided to cut my hair for the same reasons and my Mamá didn’t take it really nicely, and idk i guess I just want comfort. Thank you I love your writing and again, I hope you have a nice day💕💕✨✨
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Scenario: cutting your hair as an alternative to self harm
Note: Hello there! First, I wanna say how proud I am of you, even if I don't know you. The fact you cut your hair instead of cutting is amazing and I am so proud of you. I hope you continue to stay strong, and I'm sorry this took so long! Feel free to contact me if you need someone to talk to. [P.S: I did change the request up but it's mostly the same!]
Fandom: Obey Me!
Character's: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor.
Reader: Kinda G-N! But also has hints that you're most likely a female in this.
Warnings: self harm mentions?
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He's very confused.
He does NOT remember you ever leaving the house of lamentation, and your hair was still long earlier this morning.
What happened?
He'll ignore it though.
He'll give you compliments about your hair, and he'll be surprised when you say you cut it on your own.
Tells you that you have talent.
After dinner, he'll ask for you to meet up with him in his office.
He'll immediately ask you why you cut your hair.
Was something wrong? Did you simply want a change? Are you sure you won't regret it? He could find you someone who could grow your hair back out for you if you did?
When you tell him you did that instead of self cutting he's... uncertain on how to feel.
Firstly, he is EXTREMELY proud of you for deciding to do that rather than cut yourself.
He's also a bit disappointed in himself that he didn't notice.
He'll pull you in for a hug, and tell him how proud he is of you for doing that. And how lovely your hair looks short.
He'll tell you to talk to him if you ever feel that you need to cut, and you don't have any other option.
Or if you are simply sad.
He'll get you a therapist if you don't want to speak to him or his brothers.
He'll do almost anything so that you can feel better.
Won't get you knives or things that you can hurt yourself with, but anything else is fair game.
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Shocked because why???
Your hair was so nice, and silky! And he loved running his fingers through it and making different hairstyles and all that fun stuff.
He's kinda sad.
But also, you look really good with that hair style?
And you did it on your own?
....ever thought about opening a hair salon? People would pay so much if you had that much talent and skill.
Now, Mammon is most likely the one that is the best on emotions of ALL his brothers.
He can tell when you're not feeling yourself, and it's only like 100 times stronger thanks to the pact you both have.
He'll talk to you when you're both cuddled up in your room, asking you what happened.
When you tell him he'll put the mask he usually has on down and let you know how amazing you are and how proud he is.
Will offer to speak to Lucifer about getting you a therapist, if you'd like.
It won't matter if this is a common way you feel, it only happens once or twice or this only happened once.
He'll do anything you ask of him.
'Cause he loves you more than even money.
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Kinda jealous because he' never be able to look good with a hairstyle like that.
And then you're just like
"Oh, I cut it myself."
And he just shirt circuts.
You can cut hair? And even more importantly, your own hair!?!?!?!??!?!
That's so cool!
Why did you never tell him?
At least he's happy that it doesn't seem like any of the others knew about it either.
Now, I honestly feel like Levi's bad thoughts about himself has led him down the path of self harm.
He's surpsingly strong willed, and almost always manages to catch himself and do something else.
And he recognizes what you did as a common thing to do instead.
Asks just to be sure.
And when you tell him that yes, that was why you did it, he's heartbroken.
You don't deserve feelings like that. Actually, you deserve everything good and only the good.
He'll be a lot nicer, doing his best to give you compliments on the new hairstyle and telling you how proud he is.
Mainly fails, but it's okay.
He's trying, and he'll try his best for you to be happy.
<3<3<3<3<3
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This man feeds off of anger, so if you did it in a fit of rage or anger, no matter small, he's there in a second to ask how you're doing.
If not? He won't notice. It's only anger he can feel, much to his dismay.
He'll have troubles connecting the dots at first, and will only be handing you out compliments next to Asmo.
Then it hits him that it might be more to it, considering how you're acting.
He'll wait until after dinner and claim you have to help him with something.
Get's really angry when you tell him why you did it.
Not at you though, never at you. At himself, and lucifer, at everything.
He won't keep it up long though, calming down really quickly.
He'll ask you to sit down and read with him, or he'll read to you. Or you can do something on your D.D.D while he reads.
Whatever you want.
Hell, he might decide to let you drag him out somewhere.
Whatever it takes to make you feel even a tiny bit better.
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Immediately gushing about how amazing you look with the new hairstyle.
He wants to know where you cut it in the first ten seconds he sees you.
Super shocked when he finds out you did it on your own.
Will ask you to trim his hair sometime.
To be fair, he's no stranger to doing things about his appearance in a fit of strong emotion.
Something Lucifer isn't always the happiest about.
He won't point it out though, if you want to talk, you know he's there.
He drops hints like that, just to be sure.
If you do tell him the reason, he'll immediately pull you in for a hug and shower you in compliments.
Not only on your appearance, but on how amazing you did to cut your hair instead of cutting your skin.
Self care day
He'll push away any of his brothers, doing his best to make you feel the most confident you have ever felt in your own body
Also, he'll make sure you know he's there for you and offer to get a therapist if you'd like one
When it starts to get late he'll put on a movie in the background and cuddle you💞💞💞
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He thinks you look great with the new hairstyle!
You looked amazing before as well, but you also look amazing now!
Honestly, he kinda forgets about it during the dinner, a hair cut doesn't change who you are and you're still his very best friend and love of his life
He'll do his normal "get up at 12am and drag you for midnight snacks."
And if you tell him, he'll drop his food and pull you in for a hug
He doesn't say much, but offers you his food.
Whenever he's sad, food makes him feel better, so he does what he knows and hopes it'll share you up too
He'll also be willing to do anything you ask
Want him to carry you? Hug you? Cuddles? Want him to talk to lucifer for you? Want to vent? Want to cry?
He's there for you
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Honestly, I doubt he even notices.
He's to busy sleeping to care.
When he DOES notice it's when he drags you down to sleep and tries nuzzling his face into your long hair-
Wait it's gone?
He'll get kinda pissy, 'cause he liked your long hair, but then he noticed it's still super soft and just goes back to sleep
He won't even bring up the possibility that you did it as an alternative to self harm
It crossed his mind but he refuses to believe it
If you tell him, he'll react kinda negatively, and won't talk to you
For like 30 minutes max
Most likely only for like 5 minutes though
He'll realize that he should be there for you
Isn't sure what to do, so he just kinda cuddles you and apologies for how he reacted
He's very lazy put he puts in an extra effort to tell you how proud he is
Because cutting your hair is way better than hurting yourself and you did super good doing the hair cutting instead
He'll let his brothers help you during the day, and have you cuddle with him at night so he can make sure you have the best dreams
I'd say he's horrible at it, but the effort is actually pretty obvious and he makes sure you're guarded in the night
He tries
His best
And it works to some degree
<3
596 notes · View notes
ncssian · 3 years
Text
A Favor: Part Seventeen
Nessian Modern AU
Masterlist
a/n: 70% of this fic is written on my phone lying on my side in bed while using swipe typing bc im too lazy to type out words and it shows
TW: discussion of SA
***
Nesta has an easier time adjusting to a third person in the cabin than she thought she would. Maybe it’s because Azriel indeed minds his business, and half the time Nesta isn’t aware he’s there at all.
Cassian seems to be more irritated by it than anyone else—not his brother, of course, but the fact that he and Nesta no longer exist in their own little bubble. Which is how he ends up at Nesta’s apartment with an overnight bag, sprawled out stomach-down on her mattress while she gets ready for bed.
“TV show or movie?” he asks, clicking through her laptop. Shows are Nesta’s thing and movies are Cassian’s; she feels generous enough tonight to say, “Movie.”
“Thank god,” he mutters, typing something on the laptop. “There’s a Turkish horror flick that I was saving for you.”
“Where do you even find these films?” Grabbing her hairbrush, she flops onto the bed beside him and starts brushing out her brassy locks. Before he can answer, Nesta’s phone buzzes from the stool she uses as a bedside table. Feyre’s name flashes on the screen.
Nesta frowns, but picks up without a second thought. “What is it?”
“Nothing serious,” her sister replies. “Just checking in.”
Before Cassian, Nesta didn’t very much understand the purpose of “checking in” without reason. Now she empathizes with Feyre a little. “I’m fine,” she says.
Deciding she can do better than that, she adds, “Cassian and I are about to start a movie.”
“Is it his choice? I’m so sorry for you.”
Nesta peeks over to where Cassian is still intently searching for his obscure movie and smiles a little. “I like Turkish horror,” she replies.
Cassian overhears and grins approvingly.
“Well, I’m looking at wedding dresses with Rhys so he can prepare for when he inevitably proposes,” Feyre says. “In case you wanted to know.”
Nesta did not particularly want to know, but she doesn’t say this. “Sounds fun. Is that it?”
“For what?”
“This conversation.”
Feyre sighs over the line. “Yes, I’ll let you go now. Thanks for picking up.”
The bar is in hell, Nesta thinks. Mostly because she put it there, but she still feels embarrassed to be congratulated over such small things. “Thanks for keeping it short.”
She’s about to hang up when she hears a male voice speak up in the background, and Feyre interrupts, “Wait—before you go, can you tell Cassian to call Rhys back? He wants Cass’s help picking a new team leader for the Italy project.”
Nesta has no idea what that is, but she says, “Sure, fine.” They say their goodbyes and hang up.
“What’d she want?” Cassian says without looking over at her.
“She said Rhys wants you to call him about the Italy project.”
Cassian turns toward her, half sitting up. “Really? What for?”
“Something about picking a team leader.” She returns to brushing her hair. “Why? What’s the Italy project?”
“Something I thought we put aside for good,” he grumbles. “It’s a year-long overseas project in Milan. Rhys thinks it’s gonna bring in a shit ton of money.”
“Sounds big. What do you have to do with it, though?” She’s never heard of Cassian being involved in Night Court’s international operations, even though he takes on more work than the usual employee.
Cassian shrugs, going back to movie searching. “He wanted me to be the one leading the team, and I guess he still feels petty about me turning him down. Honestly, choosing team leaders outside of my department isn’t even part of my jurisdiction.”
Nesta hesitates. “He offered you the job? When?” She didn’t know this.
“On New Year’s.”
“And you turned it down?��
“Yeah.” Cassian clicks on a link that looks like it’ll plant fifteen different viruses in Nesta’s laptop. “Found the movie,” he says.
“Why would you do that?” Nesta demands.
“The movie?”
“The job offer! Why would you turn down such a big opportunity without even telling me?”
Cassian laughs in confusion. “Are you angry right now?”
She’s astonished at his nonchalance. “Cassian,” she says. “It’s Italy.”
Italy with the art and history and seaside beauty—it’s on their top five places to see before they die.
“It’s Milan,” he says like there’s a difference, “and it’s an entire year away from you.” He shakes his head, sitting up to face her. “Are you out of your mind?”
She goes still. “Don’t tell me you said no because of me.”
“Of course I said no because of you.”
“It’s your dream job!” she bursts. “Traveling, exploring, being on your own—”
“Those are our dreams. I made those plans with you. The hell am I supposed to do all the way in Italy without you?”
“You sound codependent,” she retorts.
He narrows his brows. “Like you wouldn’t do the same thing in my position?”
He’s right, of course. Nesta would do the exact same thing for him. But Nesta and Cassian are not the same, and they both know it. “You can’t make that comparison,” she sighs.
“Why not?” he demands.
“Because—” She struggles to put it into words. “I would give up a long distance job for you because it would be worth it. You’re worth it. It doesn’t work the other way around.”
“Again: why the fuck not?”
So he’s really going to make her spell it out. “Because you’re a good boyfriend. You’re affectionate and caring, you always go the extra mile for those you love, and you come with all these free perks. It’s a great deal. And I’m not anything terrible, but I’m the bare minimum compared to you. Why would you give up Italy for the bare minimum?”
Cassian looks at her in disbelief. “I don’t even know how you can say so many wrong things in a row.”
“He’s blinded by love,” Nesta mutters to herself.
“First of all,” he holds up a finger, “I don’t know where you learned to compare yourself to me, but I don’t like it. You make it sound like I need to be paid back for every half-decent thing I do, and that is not the case at all.”
“Of course you think that,” she says. “You wouldn’t be a good person if you didn’t.”
“Then let me be a blunt person.” He puts a hand on her knee and looks her in the eye. “You will never be like me. Very few people are; you can’t take it personally.”
“Oh my god.” Her eyes might roll out of her head.
“But you’re not the bare minimum. Not even close.” He states it like an undeniable fact.
“How so?” she challenges.
“Like how Elain told me about this boy who broke her heart in her high school, and how the next day he walked into class in a leg cast. And how she just knew you had something to do with it, and you two had a huge fight about it that lasted a week.”
Nesta does not enjoy that memory being brought up. Elain called her a psychopath for the incident, and to save her feelings, Nesta (rather unconvincingly) said it had been an accident.
“I didn’t push anybody into a creek,” she maintains the lie. “Sometimes people just fall down there.”
“To be fair, you’re a lot more stable now than you were then. Now when people hurt those you care about, you find sneakier ways to hurt them back. Don’t you?”
“I do not,” Nesta defends.
“Really? Because Eris texted me earlier saying you’ve been ignoring him since New Year’s, and he’s starting to get worried that you have something heinous planned for him. I asked him why he would ever think such a thing of you.” Cassian leans forward and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Why would he think such a thing of you, Nesta?”
Cassian looks pretty well off from here, doesn’t he? She remembers Eris’s smug face. Did you know Rhysand’s parents found him sleeping in the streets?
“Because he said a bad thing,” Nesta says, looking down at her fingernails. “And I have an unfortunate reputation at school for getting back at people who say bad things.” Like the time Brian O’Connell made jokes about a rape trial the class was studying, and then couldn’t find an internship at a single firm the following summer.
“And what did he say? Because I can’t imagine he would directly insult you. He actually likes you, ass that he is.” His face is warm so close to her neck.
She looks away. “I won’t repeat it.”
That seems to be all Cassian needs to get an idea of what Eris said. “And how long are you planning on holding it against him?”
“Forever.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Nesta meets the eyes that haven’t left her face this entire time and snorts. “What’s your point?” Seriously, she’s starting to redden at how close he is.
He buries his face in her neck, his stubble rasping against the sensitive skin there. “The point is that you also do a lot for the people you love. Just in a different way.” He pulls away to look her in the eye. “Don’t do anything to Eris, though,” he says. “Not that I care for him or his shit opinions, but whatever you have planned isn’t worth it.”
Nesta wants to scoff in disbelief at the sincerity on Cassian’s face. He’s always choosing kindness, even at the worst moments. “So that’s your argument?” she says. “You won’t go to Italy because your girlfriend has a bad temper and a taste for revenge?”
“That’s my final argument, Your Honor.” He takes her hand. “Forget Milan, will you? One day I’ll take you to Portofino.”
The longer Nesta knows Cassian, the more she finds it useless to hide from him. Which is why she lets him watch the thoughts flit across her face as she considers his words, deciding whether she believes him. Deciding whether he’s right to give her so much devotion.
“Fine,” she finally says. “You’re right.”
A slow smile spreads across his face as he realizes he won. Wrapping his arms around Nesta’s waist and legs, he hauls her into his lap and shifts around until they’re both comfortable. The movie is forgotten for now.
“Out of curiosity…” He noses at the nape of her neck. “What did Eris say about me to make you so angry?”
When Nesta doesn’t answer, he says, “I’ve already heard everything that could possibly be said. The shit that used to get me when I was eighteen doesn’t have the same hold on me a decade later.”
She lets herself relax into his hold. “It was about the time you spent as an orphan.” Technically, he’s still an orphan, but it was different back then. “I didn’t like the tone of his voice.”
Cassian’s answering hum is a low rumble against her shirt. “Did you know my biological father was from Italy?”
Nesta perks up at that. “No.” She assumed he was entirely Algerian, even though he and Azriel probably look ethnically ambiguous to most. “Isn’t that all the more reason to see Italy someday?”
“Not at all,” he says. “If I could pretend that half of me didn’t exist, I would.”
She can’t think of a response that doesn’t involve a question, so she doesn’t reply. She waits for Cassian to speak on his own terms.
“I went to Italy once,” he admits. “For less than a day while my brothers were partying in Monte Carlo. I was young and stupid, and thought I would never be complete if I didn’t know who my father was.”
“Who was he?” She doesn’t know why she’s whispering.
“No one worth remembering,” Cassian says, his arms unconsciously tightening around her. “I put some dots together and realized how he and my mother must have met, how he must’ve—forced himself on her, and I decided that I didn’t care about bloodlines at all. I never returned to Italy after that.”
Nesta’s hands want to reach out and touch him, soothe him. But her muscles are suddenly very cold, and she can only stiffen. “And what about now? Do you… not want to go back?”
“It’s just a place to me,” he says. “Nothing special, nothing terrible. But I like the way it sounds when you talk about it.” His eyes sparkle. “I’d like to pretend it’s my first time going with you.”
“Alright, then.” She nods. “One day, we’ll go together. It’ll be our first time.”
***
Cassian refuses to let Nesta leave bed the next morning, dragging his heavy mouth across her body whenever she tries to get up. She’s about to surrender to him altogether when her phone starts vibrating loudly, insistently.
Breaking away from Cassian’s attempt at cuddling, she answers without checking the caller ID. “Yes?” she croaks sleepily.
“Where the hell have you been?” Emerie demands.
Nesta shoves Cassian away despite his protests, untangling her legs from the sheets. “At home,” she says, getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”
“We haven’t seen you in two weeks,” Emerie says. “Gwyn thought your boyfriend’s weird family killed you.”
“That’s not what happened,” Nesta assures, pulling her shorts down and sitting on the toilet. “I just needed some alone time.” People are all around her these days, it seems. Her body still can’t quite adjust to it.
“Well, have you had enough—are you peeing?”
“Yeah.” She wipes and flushes the toilet.
“Well, clear your day and kick your sorry boyfriend out of your place. I can’t remember the last time I went out.”
“Why does everybody always want to go out?” Nesta says as she washes her hands. “What’s wrong with staying in, being safe, never leaving the house?” She dries her hands on a towel and returns to the bedroom, where Cassian is now sitting up and checking his emails.
“You’re preaching to the choir, but this actually wasn’t my idea,” Emerie says.
Nesta and Cassian alert at the sound of a knock from the front door. Nesta never has uninvited guests.
“Hold on a second, Em,” she says, jogging up the short set of steps to the door. She opens it to the sight of an exasperated-looking Gwyn.
“Jeez, next time send a text that you’re alive, will you?” Gwyn says, shoving past Nesta to enter the apartment. “Do you know how worried I’ve been—” She halts midsentence, one foot hovering above a step as she realizes that Nesta isn’t alone. As she sees Cassian in her bed, bare-chested and highly amused.
“Hey.” He raises a hand in greeting.
Gwyn pales.
“Hello?” Emerie calls over the line.
“You girls both share the same brain,” Nesta sighs. “Let me call you back, Emerie.”
Gwyn whirls around just as Nesta hangs up. “That won’t be necessary,” she says quickly, looking embarrassed. “I’ll be outside. I’m sorry.”
She hurries out of the apartment even faster than she came in, ducking her head to hide her face.
Nesta tosses her arms up in the air. “Great,” she says to Cassian. “Your abs scared her away.”
“But I didn’t do anything—”
She shuts the door behind her as she follows Gwyn outside, barefoot and all. She barely notices the freezing cold air or the awful press of damp grass beneath her feet as she catches up to Gwyn and grabs her elbow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Gwyn jerks suddenly, yanking out of Nesta’s hold. Her breathing seems a little shallow, and she looks even more embarrassed for it. “It’s nothing. I just didn’t know you had someone over.”
“Cassian? He’s cool, you don’t need to be weird about him,” she tries to reassure Gwyn. “Though I did use to tell him that not everybody wants to see him shirtless all the time.”
“It’s not that,” Gwyn says, waving her off.
Nesta gestures to the apartment. “Do you want to come back inside, then? I’m sure he has clothes on by now.”
Gwyn clears her throat uncomfortably and looks down. “I’d rather not. I’m—I don’t like being around men.”
Nesta pauses, not sure if she heard right. “Like, in a ‘check the backseat of your car before getting in’ way, or…?”
“No, like I can’t be alone in a room with a man without feeling sick. It activates my fight or flight, it’s weird.” She’s carefully stiff, like she’s ready to be met with humiliation.
Nesta remembers that Gwyn has never told her about her therapy sessions before, but she knows they’re more intensive than her own weekly conversations with Lana.
“Not that I think your boyfriend is a bad person,” Gwyn adds when Nesta doesn’t respond. “He looks really nice. He sounds nice, too.”
But Nesta doesn’t care about any of that. Unsure of what to do next, she reaches out and awkwardly pats Gwyn on the arm. “Good thing you’ve never been to the cabin, then. Cassian’s brother is staying…” She trails off when she realizes none of this is relevant. “Why are you here so early?” she asks instead.
Gwyn eases up a little at the change in subject. “I missed you. We’ve barely talked since Christmas.”
Nesta didn’t realize people would take such notice to her absence. “Yeah.” She flushes. “I do that sometimes. I’ll send a message next time I go into hibernation, though.”
“You’re freezing,” Gwyn suddenly scolds, noticing how Nesta’s goosebumped arms are wrapped tightly around herself. She unzips her red hoodie and shrugs it off. “Go back inside and get dressed.” She flings the hoodie around Nesta’s shoulders before Nesta can protest. “Meet me at my car. We’re hanging out.”
Nesta knows that a last minute change of events is not the end of the world, even if it sometimes feels like it. For Gwyn and Emerie, she can bear the discomfort of unexpected plans, same as she does for Cassian. But she at least has to know: “How long will we be out?”
“You can come home after lunch.” At Nesta’s face, Gwyn adds, “Lunch will be at two and shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
Looking her friend up and down, someone who has such an easy time understanding her, Nesta nods in satisfaction. She turns around to go back inside.
***
They end up at the library where Gwyn works, in the stacks of the long-abandoned encyclopedia section.
Emerie takes a loud sip from the huge McDonald’s soda she snuck in. “So all this show was because Gwyn didn’t want to work her shift alone?”
“I just have some last minute cleanup to do,” she hisses for the third time, shoving an old book back where it belongs. “Go to the porn section if you’re so bored here.”
“Oh, I definitely will,” Emerie says. “But I’m glad that we’re congregating now, even if it’s in the most depressing part of the library. I have a present for you girls.” She hands Nesta her drink so she can dig around in her purse.
Nesta personally has no complaints. The library is quiet, it smells of paper and old ink, and it holds all her favorite books. It’s almost better than staying in.
Emerie successfully pulls out a handful of folded and wrinkled papers from her bag, smoothing them out as best she can. “One for each of us,” she says, passing the papers around.
Nesta takes her paper and stares at the header. Gwyn is the first to speak. “Pole dancing classes?”
“Why?” Nesta says.
“Well, I originally offered them to Justinian and Isaac but they said no—”
“It’s really not for me,” Gwyn interrupts, trying to pass the registration form back to Emerie. “Sorry.”
Nesta doesn’t give her form back.
“Look,” Emerie says. “I get the hesitation. We’re a handful of boring bitches who hate having fun. But don’t you think that has to change at some point?”
“I’ve known you guys a month,” Gwyn retorts. “We’ve only been boring bitches for a month. This is too much.” She turns to Nesta for help.
Nesta is still staring at the paper. Dancing—on a pole, yes, but it’s still dancing. “I’ll do it,” she says.
Gwyn looks betrayed and Emerie looks elated. “Really?” She hops up and down. “That’s two against one, Gwyn. You have to do it, too.”
Gwyn’s cheeks are turning red in frustration. “You can’t just force this on me—”
“Gwyneth,” a sharp voice interrupts their conversation. Nesta spins around to find a young woman with dark skin and bleached white curls heading in their direction, a stack of books in her arms.
She halts before Nesta and glares. “No food or drink in the library.” She looks pointedly at the 32-ounce in her hand.
“It’s not mine.” Nesta shoves the drink back to Emerie.
But the librarian has turned to Gwyn, who hides the dance class form behind her back. “And what are you doing here?” she demands.
“Just putting up a few books, Merrill,” Gwyn answers quickly.
“While socializing?” the woman named Merrill sneers.
“We were just asking for help finding the romance section. Is that a problem?” Emerie crosses her arms and steps forward, letting a little of her beautiful deadliness slip into her stance. It’s the deadliness of someone at the top of her law class, someone who will graduate in a few months with all the power she could want in the palm of her hand. Nesta gets a rush from playing the lawyer game, too, but she’s never had the kind of ambition that Emerie has. Emerie is a shark sitting around in a small pond.
Merrill is not impressed. She snatches the styrofoam cup dangling from Emerie’s hand and tosses it in the nearby trash can. She turns back to Gwyn. “Hand your badge over and clock out.”
“But I’m not done yet—”
“Now.”
“Okay,” she squeaks. She pulls her ID badge off her neck and hands it to Merrill.
Nesta gapes in disbelief. Before she can speak up, Merrill says, “No loitering in the library. If you don’t have anything you need to check out, leave.” With one final judgmental look, she turns down an aisle of dusty books and disappears.
Gwyn makes a face at her back.
“That woman is not old enough to be acting that misanthropic,” Emerie says after Merrill is gone.
“Whatever,” Gwyn mutters. The registration form is still in her hand. She crumples it into a ball and throws it into the trash. “Let’s get out of here.”
Nesta stares at the trash as Gwyn turns to leave. “Coward,” she says.
Gwyn’s head snaps toward Nesta, her auburn hair swinging. “Excuse me?”
She shrugs. “You heard me.” Emerie’s eyes bounce back and forth between the girls.
“I did,” Gwyn says. “I was just making sure this wasn’t coming from the woman who would sooner bite someone’s head off than do something she doesn’t want to.”
“Girls,” Emerie snaps before Nesta can bite back. “It’s just a stupid dance class. I thought it would be fun to do together, but it doesn’t matter anymore.” Taking Gwyn by one arm and Nesta by the other, she starts steering them out of the stacks like a stern mother. “Now let’s go eat. I’m fucking hungry.”
Gwyn’s mood from the library doesn’t recover, even as they sit down for lunch at the local diner. Nesta thinks Gwyn might actually be sick when the male waiter winks at her while taking her order, and it’s not until long after he’s gone that color returns to her face. When their food arrives, Gwyn only picks at her plate.
“What’s wrong?” Nesta finally has to ask bluntly. “You look pukey.” Did the coward comment affect Gwyn more than she let on, or was it Merrill’s attitude that threw her off?
At Nesta’s words, Gwyn becomes even more pallid. “I just don’t feel great today,” she murmurs, looking around like she’s seeking a way out of the diner. “Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to be such a buzzkill. Maybe I should go home early.”
“Absolutely not,” Emerie says. “If you’re going home, we’re going home with you.”
Gwyn bites her lip, trying to decide if she wants that or not. But something about her antsy demeanor is too familiar to Nesta, because she says, “If you really want to be alone, do you mind driving me home first? Emerie’s car is a mess.”
“You just need to move around a few papers,” Emerie protests.
But Gwyn nods distractedly, already gathering her things. “Sure, no problem.” They pay the bill and go their separate ways.
During the ride home, the sky that’s been gray all day finally breaks open, unleashing a spattering of rain over the town. Nesta watches it sprinkle while Gwyn drives in silence.
“Why are you scared of Merrill?” she eventually asks. “She doesn’t look much older than you.”
Gwyn snorts, but there isn’t much heart to it. “Merrill is my superior, but I can handle her on most days.”
“Just not today?”
Gwyn eyes Nesta warily from the corner of her eye. “No, not today. Or this week.”
Nesta chooses not to push. The dull metal of the cars surrounding them glints under the rain, and they arrive at a red light.
After a minute, she takes a breath and blurts, “I’m not always like that around guys, you know.”
Nesta watches her closely, remembering how ghostly she seemed around Cassian, then the waiter. “Keep going.”
Gwyn stares straight at the traffic ahead, her fingers turning bone white on the steering wheel. “I’m just going through a hard period. Everything upsets me and I don’t know how to think straight. It’s like my brain accidentally traveled to the past and now it’s stuck there.” She sounds shaky, breathless, and it makes Nesta wonder what exactly her mind is experiencing.
Nesta knows what it’s like to be unable to move on. Her own brain has only recently started looking toward the future. “Where are you stuck, specifically?” she asks hesitantly. Maybe she can help Gwyn navigate her way out.
Gwyn’s chin quivers. “In a dark room.” Her lips form a tight line. “Being held down. I’m outnumbered.”
Nesta’s stomach turns. “How far back is it?”
“Two years,” Gwyn whispers. “Lately I can’t even look at anything without—remembering it. Thinking about it. Every time I feel like I’m moving past it, I end up being wrong.”
The light turns green, and Nesta puts a hand on Gwyn’s knee in an attempt to ground her. “Drive,” she commands softly.
Gwyn presses down on the accelerator, but Nesta can feel her leg trembling beneath her hand. She squeezes her knee hard. Even with the dark parts of her own past, Nesta has never felt what Gwyn is feeling right now. So she tries to stick to what she knows.
“It’s like you said,” she says carefully. “You’re going through a period where your brain isn’t being friendly to you. It’s horrible, but you can live with the knowledge that it’ll be over eventually.”
Gwyn shakes her head, holding back tears. “It doesn’t work like that. Once it goes away, it’ll just come back again. And it’ll be like that for the rest of my life.”
“You’re right.” Nesta doesn’t have a solution for that, and she hates it. “You’ll never forget. You can be at the peak of your life and still remember all of it. But,” she says slowly, “whether you reach a point where it barely fazes you, or if you keep crippling under the weight of it decades later, you’ll still be normal. You’ll be a perfectly normal human.”
Gwyn lets out a tearful laugh at that. “What does that even mean?”
Shit. “It means…” Nesta tries to explain herself better. “In case you’re worried that there’s something very wrong with you, I’m here telling you that there’s not. There will never be anything wrong with you.”
Gwyn eyes her skeptically as they turn onto a residential road. “Even if I never get past one nightmare I lived years ago? Even if that nightmare defines me until the day I die?”
“That won’t happen.” Nesta’s tone is simple, factual. “But yes, even then.”
“Really? You’re not gonna tell me to live for the better days or whatever?”
“Does that sound like something that would help you? Because I can say it if it does.”
Gwyn snorts. “No.” But her limbs are steady and her eyes are clear on the road. She clears her throat. “Thank you for listening. I think I might feel a little better now.”
“Was it because of what I said?” Nesta tries not to be too hopeful.
“I wouldn’t give you that much credit,” Gwyn says, crushing her hope. “But I’m glad I told you. It makes things…a lot easier for me.” She exhales deeply.
“You know my plate is mostly empty these days.” Nesta pats her knee. “That means I’ll always have room to help carry your shit.”
They pull up to Nesta’s apartment, and Gwyn parks at the curb. “Give me your dance class thing,” she says suddenly.
Frowning, Nesta pulls the wrinkled paper out of her purse and hands it to Gwyn.
Gwyn smooths it out on the steering wheel and grabs a pen from a cupholder, clicking it. “If you’re going to help carry my shit, I guess I have time for pole dancing now.”
“But that’s mine,” Nesta protests as Gwyn starts filling out the form.
“It can be both of ours,” she says, writing Nesta’s name under hers.
“Really?” Nesta grins with an excitement that she doesn’t easily feel. “You’re going to do it with us?”
“Why would I let you do it without me? So I can become the third wheel in our girl group?” She gives Nesta a look that says No way in hell.
Nesta rolls her eyes. “That would never happen to you.”
“Sure,” Gwyn drawls. She finishes the form and folds it in half before pocketing it. “I’ll give this to Emerie as a gift.” She leans over to peck Nesta on the cheek. “Now get home. Love you.”
Nesta turns red at the words and coughs. “Thanks for the ride,” she responds, getting out of the car.
“Say it back!” Gwyn calls after her. But Nesta shuts the door in her face and waves, pretending she can’t hear her. Gwyn mock-scowls at her through the window, but lets her off easy and drives away.
That’s enough feelings for today, Nesta decides. Even if her chest is swelling with emotion for her friend. It’s a sweet hurt that lingers long after she returns to her empty apartment.
***
a/n: i’m back in my no plot, just vibes era
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mrs-march-ahs · 3 years
Note
Hey beautiful!! If you have the time/ inspo could you pls do a full Kit fic based on that nipple clamp scenario you described?? It would be greatly appreciated but no pressure if you cant! Thanks and love you!!
Mr Walker’s Treat, Your Punishment
Yes queen, I’m sorry it’s been literally 6 years since you sent this request, I hope you love it. I chose to use clothes pins instead of nipple clamps, and decided against a daddy kink since y’all brought up a lot of good points. Mr Walker is it.
Summary- After losing a bet with Kit, his dark kinky side comes out and he punishes you with the one thing he’s dreamt of since the day he met you.
Words- 2k. I’ve been writing too many headcannons, need to stop being lazy and start writing longer fics for y’all😤
Another request that was a similar was- “Hi! I don’t really know how to work tumblr so if this is bad or something, sorry but can i get a smut about Kit Walker having a boob kink? I loved your Kai one with the mommy kink and all that but if you don’t wanna write it ofc you don’t have to. thanks <3″, I hope you’re here! I hope you enjoy! 
No cap this might be the hottest thing I’ve written, enjoy! 🥵
--
“This isn’t like you, I kind of like it”, you giggle, as Kit ties your hands to the bed frame with the only two ties he has. He smiles down at you, straddling your stomach, fumbling with the ties before he finishes, and looks around the room.
“Hm?”, you ask.
“I need something to cover your eyes”, he says, before getting off the bed and looking at the pile of dirty clothes by the wall.
“Ooo, kinky”, you can’t help but giggle at how unusual it was for Kit to be this adventurous. Not only a few days ago did he propose a 69, but he also was willing to make it a game. Whoever came first lost, and the winner could do whatever they pleased with the loser. The second the proposal left your lips, a certain dominant twinkle sparkled in his eye and activated the horny young man he had inside of him. You pulled out all the tricks you had, but no matter how deep you took him in your mouth, and how much you choked on him trying to make him let go, nothing seemed to work. He was so focused on slurping you up and licking you raw that he barely realised your mouth was on him. All he had in his mind was the sight of you, tied up, and your kitchen timer set for him to do with you as he pleases.
You could’ve never expected what was to come, since Kit never showed a particular interest in anything kinky. But your body was ready to be at his mercy.
“How about these?”, Kit asks holding up a pair of dirty underwear to cover your eyes with. You scrunch up your nose in disgust and shake your head.
“Absolutely not, do you not have any more ties?”. Kit throws the pants back on the dirty pile and takes some sweatpants out of his drawer.
“How fancy do you think I am, doll?”
You chuckle at the way his accent proved his point, before looking up at him in awe when he returned to his position on your crotch. He shuffled around as he straddled you, before putting the legs of the sweatpants around your eyes, poking his tongue out slightly as he tries to tie a knot. After a minute of struggling, Kit becomes impatient and takes the makeshift knot off your face, and puts your face inside of the pants where his butt would go, making you both laugh at how unsexy your homemade blindfold is.
“Hey, it works”, Kit laughs before reaching over to the kitchen timer on your bedside table. He twists it to an hour and sets it down, then proceeds to get off you and leave the room. You wriggle around the bed as you hear Kit walk out.
“Is this what you wanted? To tie me up and leave me for an hour?”, you whine loudly so Kit can hear. He collects his desired (and prepared earlier) items before shouting back to you from the kitchen, “More whining like that and I’ll leave my naughty girl tied up for two”.
You become visibly aroused at the new dirty nickname and bite your lip at what Kit has in store for you. Just as your mind is about to wander to the filthy things you ache for, Kit comes back and puts, what sounds like quite a few, things on the bedstand.
He kneels at the end of the bed and crawls over to you slowly, admiring the sight of you bare chested and rubbing his body against yours. He presses his lips to your neck and kisses you slowly, the quiet sounds right against your ear making you open your mouth. Admittedly, not being able to see heightens the pleasure, and makes even the simple activity of being kissed down to your chest even more erotic than before. You’re both very touchy and affectionate to one another, so you quickly feel the effects of being tied to the bed, when you tug slightly against your restrains wanting to run your fingers through Kit’s hair as he softly sucks on your collarbone. Kit closes his eyes and breathes against your skin as he moves down to attach his lips to the sensitive skin around your nipple, teasing you before he gets to it. He uses his other hand to wrap around your other boob, not wanting to waste a minute of the hour he has with your girls. You rub your thighs together slightly, aroused from the feeling of Kit’s mouth inching closer to nipple, but Kit stops you when he presses down, putting his body weight on you, only propping himself up on his elbows to be face level with your naked chest. The extra restrain of not being able to move frustrates you; Kit’s chest pressed down on your still clothed crotch stops you from creating any friction.
Kit never makes it to your nipple, after kissing around it for the longest minute of your life, he grazes his lips against it, before sitting up slightly and reaching over to the bedstand. The teasing lack of contact makes you huff.
“Don’t be impatient, you lost, deal with the consequences”, Kit says, now completely sat up fumbling with something in his hands, squishing your lower torso, stopping you from moving.
“Yes, Mr Walker”, you mockingly say like a child. But the term of endearment shows you respect Kit’s new dominant authority, and he swallows it up.
“Mr Walka’s got you, just sit back and relax”. Kit flicks open a cap and drizzles some liquid on your chest, making you gasp. He shushes you softly, and puts his large hand on the edge of your boob, to ensure it doesn’t drip down to the mattress. He places the bottle down and runs his fingers around in the pool of cool oil and slides them around your tits, soaking in the sight of the trails he leaves glistening. He purposely still avoids your nipples, instead circling his fingers around them. Even when he finally places his hands on either breast, kneading them and rubbing in the oil into them, though distracted by the gorgeous sight, he doesn’t give attention to the one place you yearn for it most.  
“Please…”
“Please what?”. You open your eyes under the cover, not even realising when a whimpering please left your lips. Although you wanted Kit to do anything he wanted to you, your body was tingling and tired of being teased.
“Touch them, Mr Walker”
Kit smiles at your eagerness and how easy it is for him to dominate you and have you begging, and holds back from the urge to rip your clothes off now and pound you into oblivion, knowing that if he can have you begging already, there’s more to come. He cups your tits and rubs his thumb over your hard nipples. The slightest touch makes you bite your lip, feeling overwhelmed by how such simple affection can send a rush of arousal through your whole body, making you resist the need to arch your back.
Unexpectedly, Kit takes his hands off your chest and takes a few seconds to look at them, making you even needier than before. He flicks your right nipple with his finger, making you flinch at the feeling. The minimal pain it brings subsides quickly, but the lingering touch stays and is only reset when Kit does it again, and again, and again. He takes it in turns to flick each nipple, biting his lip hard at the sight of you flinching every single time. When he stops and puts his hands on his thighs, you relax your body, savouring the slight sting from the consistent flicking.
Kit puts his hands above your shoulders and leans down, not touching you but admiring how pink your nipples turn, satisfied knowing that they will be sensitive and ready for the next activity planned. Kit leans over to the night stand, and messes around with the multiple things he has, leaving you motionless and completely submissive to whatever else he wants to do to you.
Kit sits back up and clears his throat, making you nervous slightly. He cups one boob, and you feel a sudden harsh squeeze on your nipple, making you wince. He takes it off and puts it on further, the uncomfortable nipping turning into a constant pinching of your nipple. The sensation feels weirdly sexual, and leaves you holding back a moan at first, but letting it out when Kit puts a clothes peg on the other nipple, too. Though the sight of you being used is enough for Kit’s bulge to protrude through his white underwear, desperate for attention, Kit’s intention is only to tease you, not to hurt you.
“Is this okay?”, Kit says awkwardly. You can hear the quick slurp Kit has to do as whatever is filling his mouth almost escapes.
“It’s… amazing”, you breathe out.
“Who woulda thought you’d be so naughty, hm?”. You furrow your eyebrows at what he could possibly be eating right now, but quickly melt under the weight of his lewd description of you.
Kit steps off you and stands up, chuckling darkly at the helpless view of you trying not to wriggle from the intense feeling at your sensitive buds. He takes off his shirt and drops it by the bed, not being able to rip his eyes off you laying there, wondering what he’s doing and when he’ll be back and close to you again. He slides his underwear off as silently as he can, before stepping closer to the bed, his hand wandering to his crotch, stroking himself looking at you.
When he kneels back on the bed and flicks the clothes peg, you whimper out at the endurance needed to take the uncomfortable pinch for so long. Kit moans quietly at you whimpering, before quickly slapping away the clothes peg, letting them rip off your nipples and fly across the room. You hiss at the painful turnout, making Kit instantly soothe your pain with an ice cube he holds to your nipple. You cry out at the action, and Kit smiles, before latching his mouth to your other nipple, settling the pain he induced with his freezing cold mouth and lips, swirling his tongue around your pink nipple. Tears escape your eyes at the unexpected pleasure, and a shiver breaks through your body when the ice cube between Kit’s warm fingers begins to melt and run down your side, giving you goosebumps.
Your breaths become hitched as swaps his hands and mouth, softly suckling on you with his cold lips, humming at the way you moan when he suckles harder. Your thighs can barely stay still on the mattress, moving around hoping to feel something and release the pool of pressure you feel between them. But Mr Walker doesn’t accept that, immediately sliding his hand between your legs and squeezing your inner thigh, not letting them touch and not giving you any more release than necessary. You completely let go and quickly become a whimpering and moaning mess when his hands and mouth work wonders on your body, squeezing and licking everywhere but where you need it.
“Mr Walker”, you whimper out, not being able to handle the punishment any longer.
Kit rubs his fingers against your freezing nipple as the last of the ice melts away, and removes his mouth off you with a sucking pop. He slides the sweatpants off your face, revealing the tears filling your eyes and running down your cheek. Alarm bells ring in Kit’s mind and he leans down close to you and wipes your tears away.
“I’m so sorry doll, did I go to hard on you? You shoulda said something”
“No, Kit, I need more… please”
Kit smirks at you begging once again, but sits up cockily and looks down at you.
“Sorry darling, but this was your punishment, you lost, remember? Besides…”
Kit stops in his sentence and you furrow your eyebrow in question, before, as if on cue, the kitchen timer dings.
“Sorry doll, we’re outta time”
You whine in annoyance and look up at Kit, who stands up and twists the timer again. He sets it back down before walking towards the bedroom door to exit.
“Are you not even gonna untie me?”, you whine loudly. Kit stands in the door frame with his hand on the door handle, ready to leave.
“Why? So, you can touch yourself the second you’re free? I told ya darling, if you’re whiny and naughty, imma just leave you here”
You look up at Kit in disbelief before pulling at the secure ties on your hands.
“Have fun”, Kit says, before winking at you and leaving.
━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━
@milly-louise  @amourtentiaa  @kitwalker02  @tatestripedsweater  @therenlover  @maria-akira         @tatesimper  @sallyscigarettes  @mossybank  @ahsxual  @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess  @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan  @kitwalkerangel  @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt  @blackbat2020   @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash @kaismessiahbb @elaineygrace @divinerulerluvr
326 notes · View notes
orenjikaraka · 3 years
Text
I’m Truly Sorry, please Forgive Me…
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Rengoku Kyojuro x reader angst
Warnings: slight manga warning aka mainly akaza just slightly though, cursing, concerned for weight, angst
word count: 4279
AU: modern
(Y/N) woke up to an empty side of the bed, She wondered if he’s at work again, she sighed, she got up, she actually kind of disappointed that he's not here , ‘Kyojuro…’ she thought, she still felt tired, but kind of relieved in the same time, because she was on break, it was only for a week, but she’s glad that she doesn’t have to go to work today, ‘I should make dinner for him, because he usually comes back late at night’, when she got up, the floor was cold, ‘well crap now I’m awake’, she got dressed and went to the kitchen, she made Kyojuro’s dinner and made her breakfast, she put his plate in the fridge, and ate her breakfast alone while watching some shows.
After she finished her food, she was wondering if she should call him, to see if he was alright. But before she could even try, Genya was calling her, ‘weird timing’, and she answered “hi Genya, what’s up?” “O- oh hi (Y/N), I was wondering if Rengoku-San is doing ok, because he’s been working on a lot of paperwork, he usually be finish with it, and head to your home, but- but he been like this yesterday morning and I don’t- don’t think he left school?” ‘Now that you think about it, Kyojuro left early yesterday in the morning, I thought it would be like a meeting, but who takes meetings that early in the DAMN morning’ “maybe he just has extra work, he needs to do Genya”, “ trueee, but he looks exhausted, so I wondering if you could check on him?”
‘Awwww, Genya, still acting like a little brother, it’s no wonder he’ll be worried, heck I'm worried too, but usually when these things happen like this, he comes the next day, sleeping soundly on our bed…’ “Genya, sweetheart, don’t worry about it, he’ll be back probably late at night, and be sound asleep in my bed, so don’t worry” “but- but (Y/N)” ‘this boy…’ “Genya I’ll tell you what, if he doesn’t come this midnight, and if morning happens and he’s still not there, can you ask Sanemi to go check on him, because I’ll be busy tomorrow, and you know, some errands for the house and grocery stopping, also I chose Sanemi, because you’ll be busy with school you know” “i- I know, and o- ok” … “OH, (Y/N), I’m celebrating my birthday today. Would you like to come, Tanjiro and his sister will be there, and Sanemi of course, “oh I would love to, I don’t really have anything to do today anyway so sure!” “YES- wait I mean thank you… for… coming…” ‘hehe poor boy, probably made his classmates scared’ “your welcome Genya, also happy birthday!” “Thank you, (Y/N), bye” “bye”.
‘Oh, before I do anything I should go buy him a gift’ so (Y/N) put on some casual clothes, instead of just wearing Pajamas, and went to the mail.
—-
All the classes has ended, and Rengoku just finished a big batch of paperwork, he yawn, and checked if he was finished, he looked on his schedule and saw more paperwork has been placed with a big sticky note that says ‘Teacher of history class: Rengoku Kyojuro; must be finished by tomorrow!’ “Fuck…” he just wanted to go home and sleep with his beautiful wife, on that soft bed, “guess this will be my 4th coffee for the day…” he got up and yawn again, and stretched, his back pop, but not in the good way, “ow, ow, ow, never doing that again…”, he walked over, and picked his stack of paper he had to do, he sat it in his desk, and walked to the teachers lounge’s door, and opened it to the hallway, before he stepped out, he saw Genya with Sanemi, most likely walking home, he guessed, but he heard Genya saying before they left, “(Y/N), is coming over, for the party, I’m so glad she’s free today!” And as they left, Kyojuro felt frustrated, ‘why didn't she tell me anything…’ he yawned again, “God, these yawns are getting on my nerves, I need my coffee…”
When he made it to the teachers lunch room, he started to make his coffee, when it finished, he drinks it, unusually fast, but unsatisfied, by the results, ‘ima have another’ so he made another, and drink it the exact speed as the last one, satisfied by the 2nd coffee, he was gonna go back to the teachers lounge, but saw a small box that had some sweet rolls, on the box it said, ‘you may only take one’, but Kyojuro had a craving to eat the whole damn box, all those coffees are really messing up his appetite, ‘who’s gonna notice these anyway, I eat most of the stuff here, so who gives a damn’ ‘but then again… I’ll gain some weight…’ he put one hand on his side, and felt some fat, it’s not noticeable, but it’s still pudge, ‘maybe I regret being a teacher, all this damn paperwork, and exhaustion, and drinking all this coffee really affecting my body…’ when he was thinking about all this stuff and he was about to ditch it and left,  but hunger was just raging in his stomach so ‘ok, ok, maybe some won’t hurt’ and took the whole damn box and left for the teachers lounge.
—-
(Y/N) was at Sanemi’s house celebrating Genya’s birthday, everything was going great and to (Y/N), she was surprised that Sanemi was having a great time too. It was kind of sad that Kyojuro wasn’t there, he would be giving Genya tons of gifts, but sadly he’s still at work, it made (Y/N) a bit disappointed again, but she wanted to just hope, he’s doing ok, “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” “Oh, Sanemi, I’m just worried for my husband is all…” “don’t worry about it, like you said to Genya, if he doesn’t show up to your house tomorrow morning, I’ll go check on him, just relax and don’t worry about it” “ok…” “quick (Y/N), I’m blow the heck out of the candles!!” Genya said, (Y/N) laughed, “ok!!, come on Sanemi, get off that couch of yours, and stop being lazy” Sanemi smirk “ohhhh really, I’ll prove to you, that I’m not” he gets up, “I like to see you try!!” Sanemi and (Y/N) laughed after that, and went over to the kitchen to celebrate Sanemi’s little bro's birthday.
—-
After Genya’s birthday celebration was over, (Y/N) went straight home, to relax and just vibe at home, when she took her shower and other little chores and pajamas on, she was about to fell on her bed, but she heard a knock on her door, she immediately turned around and hope it was Kyojuro, when she opened it, her excitement immediately stopped, she saw akaza, “sorry to bother you Mrs. Rengoku, but I’m just here to drop some stuff off”, “who stuff is it?�� “Just Rengoku-sans” “oh ok, thanks akaza, oh also is he still at work?” Akaza sighed “yeah… I kind of feel bad for the guy, been working his ass off over some stupid extra paperwork…”, ‘I’ll remind Sanemi tomorrow to go check on him’, “akaza, before you leave, thanks again I appreciate it”, “your welcome, and have a great night!” Akaza waved goodbye and walked away, ‘akaza, I hope that boy relationship is better then mine, because he needs it, he’s such a sweet boy…’ (Y/N) closed the door, and looked in the box, it had finished paperwork inside it.
‘Ren… you really need to take a break…’
—-
The next evening is even more tiring than before, Kyojuro looks more warned out; he looks like he's gonna faint any minute, but that coffee stops him from doing so. ‘Fuck me… my eyes hurt so much…’ Kyojuro yawned again. The teacher's office door opened, Kyojuro didn’t give a damn who it was, because he felt like passing out. “Rengoku”, … “Kyojuro”, … “HEY, I know you can hear me, don’t play du-“ “how about you shut your mouth Sanemi” “tch, hey I’m only here because your wife sent me here to check up on you, not for you to be a asshole to me” that annoyed Kyojuro “why the hell are you with my (Y/N)” “Ren, she’s like a sister to me, even though we’re not related, I still see her as family, so why the fuck you think, I be behind your back with that” Kyojuro sighed and stood from his chair “where is she” “she’s out doing errands, she wanted to come over here and check on you, but house chores and grocery shopping” Kyojuro sat back down and trying to finish what he was left off “ok, leave, I have work to do, so buzz off”.
“Are you listening to yourself right now, your just gonna go back on your work instead of paying attention to (Y/N)” “no, I need to finish it, for my job, someone needs to pay the bills in the house” Sanemi got pissed off by that, then he chuckled “tch, no wonder (Y/N) comes to my house, when she’s all tearing up, because someone needs to give her attention and that someone is not you” Kyojuro stood up and put his hands by Sanemi’s shirt, Sanemi can see that flame in his eyes, the rage… “Sanemi if you lay a finger on-“ “maybe I should, I can treat her better than you…” Kyojuro was about to punch him, but the door opened again, and Genya was there, poor boy was shocked, “let go, Rengoku” Sanemi made Kyojuro let go, Sanemi walked over to Genya, and reassured him, Kyojuro just stared back and a overflowing guilt fell on him, Sanemi looked back with rage and discuss in his eyes, “Ren, you need to get your act together, if you can’t do that, she’s gonna move on, and divorce you…” then slammed the door. 
Sanemi walked out with Genya and head home, but before he touched the door knob, his phone rings, he got his phone out of his pocket and saw (Y/N) on the screen, he answers, “hey what’s up” “hey can I come spend the night at your house” Sanemi was surprised, “oh… why-“ “Genya texted me, that the talk you had with Ren, didn’t go so well…” ‘she sounds depressed’ “hey… is everything ok…” ‘wait, why would I ask such a dumb question’ “kinda… I'm just sick of being alone at home…” “yeah, want me to come pick you up” “yes…” “ok, I’ll come pick you up in 10 minutes from now” “thanks Sem Sem, I appreciate it” Sanemi chuckled, “your welcome, (Y/N)…” 
—-
It was late at night again, and Kyojuro was still at work doing paperwork, he felt like knocking out, his eyes were drooping and his back hurts, ‘me, an jerk, fuck off Sanemi…’ ‘maybe I should call her…’ Kyojuro stop doing his work and picked up his phone off the desk and started to call her, it rings and rings and rings, until a voicemail happens, “hi this is (Y/N), I might be busy with my husband, so please understand, leave a message after the beep”, *bee-* He canceled it before it even tried to go to voicemail, ‘why should I even try again, it’s midnight’ he put his phone down and he wanted to rest his eyes ‘maybe, I am a jerk’ then he denied it ‘no, I need to finish this work…’ yawned again, ‘actually maybe a small nap won’t hurt, right?’ He laid on his arms, and wondered ‘am I really a bad husband, mom if you were here, what would you say about this…’ Kyojuro slowly fell asleep on his desk.
—-
It was midnight and (Y/N) didn’t want to call back Kyojuro, she saw the missed call from him, but she was shocked to think he would call her, she sighed and tried to go to sleep but couldn’t, maybe she’s overreacting about Kyojuro, she knows his job can be overwhelming, but… but… she’s tearing up, she’s sobbing, she’s quivering, she lift herself up, and put her arms around her legs. 
Sanemi was fast asleep in the living room couch, Genya couldn’t really sleep because what happened in the teachers lounge, what Sanemi said and what Rengoku said, he felt guilt swelling up in his heart, then he hear (Y/N) sobbing in Sanemi’s master bedroom, he sit up, and opened his door, and quietly walked to his brother’s room, slowly opened the door, and saw (Y/N), he felt horrible, he closed the door behind him, and slowly touched her back and slowly rubs her back, “hey, (Y/N)… everything will be ok…” (Y/N) let go of her arms and slowly hugged Genya, she was sobbing on his shoulder, he hugged her back, and give light rubs on her back, and whispered “everything is going to be fine”, it slowly calmed her down, and she looked up at Genya, her puffy eyes made him felt terrible, “I’m sorry I woke you up Genya, it’s just so much is happening…” “no, no, no, it’s fine, your stressed out because what’s all happening and I completely understand that'', “thanks Genya…” “do you need anything else, (Y/N)” she paused and still looked gloomy, “can you sleep with me, It’s hard for me to sleep”, Genya spaced out and it was a little out of the blue for him, “sur- sure, if it- it helps you sleep- I com- completely understand” his cheeks were slightly pink, (Y/N) laughed because he looks so cute, when’s he’s blushy, “thanks Genya'' she made a small smile, that made Genya stop blushing, he smiled back, he stood up, and started to fix his side of the bed, and he walked out and walked back in for his phone, (Y/N) layed down on her side of the bed, and Genya rested on the left side, “thanks again Gen Gen…” “your welcome (Y/N)…” and they both fell asleep. 
—-
Sanemi woke up first, because he needs to get Genya ready for school and everything, like make his breakfast and stuff, he left his main clothes in the living room because he didn’t want to wake up (Y/N), he got dressed and he head to Genya’s room, to wake him up, when he got there and opened the door, he wasn’t there, ‘where you go?’ Then he look at his room, and slowly walked to his room and opened it, and saw Genya sleeping on the left side and (Y/N) on the right, ‘she must’ve had a hard time sleeping, so she asked Genya…’ he still felt frustrated from yesterday, ‘maybe I should call for a day off today, because of (Y/N)’ so he slowly closed the door and called his boss, he said Genya’s not feeling well and that Genya has to stay home, and he had to stay home and take care of him, he ended the call and started to make breakfast for the both of them, he made there plates first, then he made his, his room door opened and Sanemi’s head looked at the direction, and saw Genya walked out then (Y/N), they both yawn, “I smelled pancakes, so I woke up first” (Y/N) said, Genya just shook up, “wait!, ima be late for school!”, then Sanemi quickly said “you dork, I told them we have a day off!, so calm down…``''oh…”, (Y/N) laughed on the two brothers, “why did you call a day off Sanemi?” “Because of you, I saw Genya slept on the other side of the bed, so I thought, you had a hard time sleeping” “I did and Genya helped, isn’t that little dude” “HEY, I’m not around the same age, but I am like twice your size!”, (Y/N) laughed, it made the brothers smile, because it’s better to see their friend happy instead of so sorrowful, “hey, Sanemi… later from today, can you drop me at the school, I need to talk to Rengoku'' Sanemi was a bit surprised to hear her say his last name, “sure, I can, but if anything happens I’ll be in the hallway, and if anyone ask why I’m there, I’ll just say, I’m waiting on someone” “thanks Sanemi” she smiled softly “your welcome (Y/N), if anything happens I’ll rush in there” 
“Thanks and I appreciate it”
—-
It was the afternoon and Kyojuro woke up from his nap, he felt all horrible, his back still hurts, his eyes has deep bags under them, and his body has a trill to drink more coffee, he tried stretching again, but the aches on his back felt like needles piercing through his skin “well that just fucking hurts” he touched his sides and his back, because they were hurting like hell, ‘hope this day, won’t get any worse as it is’, the teacher’s lounge door opened and right when he looked up, he saw his beautiful (Y/N), she looked dreadful, “hi…” she spoke, he felt guilt in his heart because how sad she sounds, “hi…” “can we talk, Rengoku…”, Kyojuro felt even more guilt, why is she calling me that, like we’re strangers all over again he thought, “baby, why are you not calling me by my-“ “Ren, why aren’t you coming home” that guilt slowly turns into frustration, “because I have a job, and I need to pay the bills for us to survive…” “yes, but doesn’t mean you stay up and at your job for three days straight”, “so-“, now (Y/N) slightly raising her voice “what do you mean so!, look at yourself, you been sitting in your desk, drinking coffee, have horrible bags under your eyes, you look like your gonna knock out, Rengo-“ “STOP CALLING ME BY MY LAST NAME” that terrified her, but she still stood her ground, “why should I!! I have been ignored for the past three days! You don’t even give me a text that ‘I’ll be still at work!’ Or at least something comforting!” “Oh (Y/N)!, why don’t you stop being a sensitive little bitch!, and just grow up!” 
Kyojuro eyes went wide, shocked to why he even said that, (Y/N) was trembling, her tears were streaming down her cheeks, Kyojuro wanted to help her calm down, but when he tried to reach for her, she backed up, Kyojuro felt horrible, he felt like he wanted to get punched, his voice was shaky, “(Y/N)…” he tried to touch her shoulder again, but she back up again, “don’t touch me…” his heart shattered when he heard her and how scared she is, “(Y/N), I’m sorry…”, it was silent, until she said “Kyojuro…, no wonder your just like your father…”, and she ran out just like that, Kyojuro was speechless, he wanted to run after her, but couldn’t, because she was right, Kyojuro started tearing up and quavering.
“Am I really…”
——
(Y/N) was running away from the school, the students that were leaving school saw her with sad looks on there faces, Sanemi was behind yelling her name, She just wanted to go far, far, far away from this horrible school, Sanemi chack up, and grabbed her by the arm, “LET GO!!” And Sanemi turned her around, “hey, it’s me, it's me…”, she hugged Sanemi and he hugged back, he picked her up, “it’s going to be ok… shhh.. everything going to be ok… I’ll take you back to my house…”
When they got there, Genya looked worried for (Y/N), she was crying silently, Sanemi wanted to put her down, but she didn’t let go, “(Y/N)?”, “can- can, you and Genya, stay up with me…, be- because I don’t think I can sleep…” Sanemi felt horrible, he should’ve just stepped in, but he wanted to give them space and respect their personal conversation, “sure, (Y/N), anything to make you positive and not stressed, I can do that” ‘hearing that from Sanemi was strange, because usually he’s always stern or blatantly aggressive, but he always would hide his anger on me’ “tha- thanks, Sem Sem…” Sanemi made a small pleasant smile that also made her smile, “hey, (Y/N), how about we watch a movie for the night?” 
“Sure, I would love that…”
——
When Kyojuro got home, he was not surprised that she wasn’t here, his fist clenched, and he slammed the door behind him, he was starving, because he felt like if he ate, he’ll just throw up, but he had to eat something, so he walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge, and saw some dinner, wrapped in foil, and a sticky note on top, he picked up the note, and it read, ‘hi, love, I’m glad your home, finished this amazing dinner I made, I worked really hard on it, so I hope you like it!’ Also ps. When you finish come cuddle with me! <3’, a teardrop fell on the note, and his hand was shaking, it started to become hard to read, because the tears kept flowing, he closed the fridge, and decided to not eat it, the note was now on the floor but he didn’t care, he just wanted to go to sleep, and just hope this is all a nightmare…
After he took his shower and got ready for bed, he wanted to call her again, so he did, but right when he clicked the call button, it went straight to voicemail, he hung up, before her cute voice can say anything, he tossed his phone on her side of the bed, and sat down on his side of the bed, his quivering got worriedly worst, his breathing was uneven, “(Y/N)… please come… back… I’m… nothing like my father…” 
“Please… I’m sorry… please come back…”
—-
The following morning, Sanemi woke up first, he got up quietly, stretched his back and popped his joints. He was gonna start breakfast for everyone, but he heard a knock on the door, “who the hell can that be?”, he opened the door and saw Kyojuro, he looked exhausted as usual, but he was well dressed, his hair looks kind of messy, “can I see her, I need to talk to her…” his voice sounds raspy, “no, also please leave, she doesn’t want company at the moment” Sanemi was about to close the door but Kyojuro put his foot on the side, so it won’t close, “please… I must talk to her…” Sanemi hated being in the middle of this, but he can’t just do nothing, (Y/N) was upset about and to see her not happy, makes him wants to punch the hell out of whoever made her unhappy, “listen Rengoku, I don’t want to beat the living pulp out of you, so if you mind, just fucking leave” “I’m not leaving until I talk to her!” He can see those flames in his eyes again. “Why you-“
“Sanemi, who is that?”, (Y/N) woke up, then Genya woke up after, Sanemi turned around with a sad look, “it’s no one” “that’s a lie, (Y/N) please… come out and open the door so we can talk… please…” (Y/N) was shocked to hear Kyojuro at the other side of the door, Sanemi turn back “dude, I told you-“ “Sanemi, let me go talk to him” she stood and walked over to the door, Sanemi turned back, with sternness, but he couldn’t say no, so he opened the door fully and walked to his room and told Genya to follow, but before the two boys went to Sanemi’s room, Sanemi said this, “if you hurt her, your dead you hear”, and both the both the boys were out of sight, it was just (Y/N) and Kyojuro.
“What is it, Rengoku…”
“Look I know you hate me, but please hear me out…” he stepped in and got a little closer.
(Y/N) sighed and nodded in response.
“(Y/N), I’m sorry, that I ignored your text, your calls, and most of all, I’m sorry that I ignored you, it breaks my heart to see you so sad and stressed out, to see you so scared and frightened of me, I don’t want you to see me as my father, I'm truly sorry, please forgive me… I’ll never treat you like this ever again…” his voice was cracking while he talked, but it truly hurt to see him like this, “I’ll prov- prove to you that I’m a worthy husband to you…” he was quivering, “I- I- love you- you, (Y/N)… please don’t leave me… I’m sorry…” “please… I’ll do better-“ 
(Y/N) hugged him back she was sobbing, but at least she didn’t walk away from him, he hugged her back, and kept saying sweet sorrys, in her ears, giving her kisses, and making her feel loved…
“I’m sorry… my love…”
“Kyojuro… I forgive you…”
“You do!” he sounded like a lost puppy and that make her laughed
“Yes, Koy” she smiled 
Kyojuro had the brightest smile, and it made her even more happy.
She hugged him again and he hugged back, “hey koy~”
Hm~”
“Love the new you~” she hugged around his waist.
He blushed, “(Y/N)…” he said shyly he covered his face on her shoulder.
She giggled, “I love you, koy~”
“I love you too, sweetheart~”
112 notes · View notes
royallyjoon · 3 years
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nephilim (trois)
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you know where the cred goes 💙
cult au, supernatural au
yandere! ot7 x f! reader
warnings: yandere themes, violent behavior
life away from the kims resumed as normal and you warily readjusted to the boys’ presence in your life. although you gained their company, you also gained a new enemy. you should take extra care not to forget your place, as internal and external forces are constantly at work. the question is: do they work in or against your favor? the hours wind on, and strange occurrences only get stranger. after all, ichabod is most awake in the dark.
-----------------------------------------—————
In your dream, you saw Jimin, but he was not the same person that you had met earlier that day. 
He stood atop Ichabod Chapel, combing through his black hair with his hand and looking down at you with brown eyes. But rather than the warm, twinkling eyes you recognized, his glistened in the moonlight, cold and hardened like topaz. 
Despite the distance, you somehow managed to see him clearly. You could see his smile, warm and affectionate, completely unlike the gaze in his eyes. He looked as though he couldn’t care less about what was happening around him--his sole focus was on you.
He was dressed in pitch black clothes from head to toe, which were soaked in some foreign substance.
 The clothes clung to him in a way that should have been uncomfortable, but he looked as though he couldn’t be bothered to change. In fact, he looked as though he relished in the substance.
Strangest of all were the magnificent black wings that rested on his back, curving their way through the shadows to reach up toward the night sky.
You eyes shot open as you woke with a start. It was still early, early enough that you could have gotten an extra hour or so of sleep, but you decided to just stay awake. Your dream had been much too unsettling...
You played around on your phone, internally debating your response to Jimin before typing something and sending it.
That’s so kind of you. I’m glad we met as well :)
You heard your mother’s knock on the door some time later. With a sigh, you lifted yourself from the warmth and safety of your sheets, getting prepared to brave the day.
--------------------------------------———————
The moment you entered the upperclassmen building, you were yanked to the side and pulled into an empty classroom. You looked up in alarm but relaxed when you saw who it was.
Mana gripped you with something akin to fear, glancing around suspiciously to make sure the coast was clear. Once they were satisfied, they closed the door and hugged you tightly. “(Y/N), you whore! You have no idea how worried I was. How dare you not text me last night? How long did you spend over there? What happened?”
You smiled at your best friend’s antics, their overprotectiveness chipping away at your lingering unease from this morning. 
You recounted your experience at the Kim household, telling them about the beautiful, secluded home in the woods, the brothers’ actions, their graceful talent of a mother, and the demanding presence of their father.
“Honestly, I was a little scared.” you recounted, sliding your bag off your shoulder. “There were so many things to be wary of, but I just spent the whole evening being as polite as possible.” 
They nodded along, engrossed in your story.
“Mayor Kim is seriously intimidating, and Mrs. Kim read my fortune—said something about power and being careful of the people around me--and the library, Mana, you would have loved it-”
“Hold on, girl! Back up.” Mana interrupted. “The mayor’s wife said what?”
“Oh,” you slowed down. “Mrs. Kim touched my palm and said I held a lot of wisdom and power, I guess within me, and that I should be wary of those around me because they may try to take it.”
They gave you a pointed look. “I knew it. The second I saw Jimin look at the empty seat next to you from the front of the classroom, I got a bad feeling. To think the warning would come from his own mother...”
“What does that mean?” You asked, furrowing your brows.
“I think you should just continue to be wary of the Kims...” Mana murmured, crossing their arms. “I know we always play it safe, but the closer to them you get, the more peril you’ll be in.”
You sat down in an empty chair. The possibilities for being hurt in this town were certainly far from rare, after all. But for them to claim the brothers would try to hurt you, even though you did nothing to provoke them...?
“Mana, do you think they might try to do something to me?”
They shrugged. “I’ve said what I felt I needed to say.”
“But steal my ‘power’?” You held up two fingers and scrunched them for air quotations. “What could the most influential people in town possibly want with me or my supposed power? What would they even do with it?”
What power do I have?
Mana looked at you concernedly while you pondered your own question.
Power? To you, it was overrated. Power was nothing but an elite show of force, all over the world but especially in this town. It was used and lorded over others, and ripped families apart. You did not consider yourself very powerful. 
You remembered your obedience toward Mr. Kim in spite of your fear and suspicion, and the way you had to rub your mother’s back as she heaved up everything she ate on the side of the road after leaving their house.
Yeah...power was currently far from your grasp.
You shrugged. You were going to follow Mrs. Kim’s warning either way; after all, nothing good came of being too expressive or open in this town.
Mana turned away from you as you both heard the bell ring for the fifteen minute warning. You picked up your bag as they led the way out the door and up the stairs toward your classroom.
When you stepped into the door, you glimpsed Jimin sitting at his desk with a disturbed frown on his face. The moment he met eyes with you, however, he was all smiles.
“(Y/N)!”
You walked down the other side of the aisle and sat in your seat, turning toward him with a smile. “Morning, Jimin.”
“Good morning! Thanks for replying to my text! How was your rest? I hope you got much more sleep than yesterday night.” His eyes wouldn’t move away from yours, all big and awestruck like a puppy’s.
You nodded. “Of course! Thanks for worrying, though. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did. I’ll always be concerned for your safety and well-being, (Y/N). If you feel like you ever need somewhere to go or someone to confide in, feel free to reach out to me, okay?” 
His tone turned strangely serious in comparison to how he greeted you moments before, you thought. Still, you gave him a small smile. 
“Sure, Jimin. I really appreciate your concern and the offer...”
He beamed and nodded, turning to give his greetings to Mana, who seemed surprise that they were being spoken to at all. As they conversed, you reached into your bag and pulled out your materials for the morning lesson.
“Did you end up choosing a mythological creature for your project yet?” Jimin asked.
Their mouth twitched upward. “My partner and I decided to research nymphs...I don’t know too much about them, he pretty much chose our project topic.”
They reached over and ruffled your hair. “You lucked out with (Y/N) here, she really knows her stuff.”
You scoffed and swatted their hand away from your head. “You mean I lucked out by not being partnered with your lazy self? You’re absolutely right.”
Jimin watched the two of you bicker back and forth, fighting the urge to smile.
The teacher entered the room, placing her materials on her desk. You and your peers silenced as you prepared yourself for the long day of classes.
Right here, surrounded by your community, your classmates, and your best friend...yes, this was the time where you felt the most normal. 
Deep down, you knew you wanted to leave Ichabod--without a doubt. But you feared the outside world all the same. 
The people outside wouldn’t be able to understand the things you had went through. They would giggle away your paranoia and reassure you of your safety, having no perception of the actual dangers you faced. 
They didn’t know the things that could set you off, the things that the people around you could understand with the simple exchange of a glance.
But you quieted the thoughts of your precarious future as the teacher began her lesson, falling into the routine once more.
----------------------------------------——————
Before the Kims even stepped foot into town, it was the Augustuses who ruled Ichabod with an iron fist. Their family came from old money. They had lived here for generations upon generations, their stature being crucial to the survival of the town. They oversaw the law enforcement of Ichabod. 
Nearly thirty years ago, when the town was still overrun with violence, miscreants, and chaos, the Augustuses did nothing to keep the peace. They sat from their high horse with other prominent families and watched the middle and lower classes struggle.
The then-head of the family, Rufus Augustus, was especially known for ignoring his duties.
Then Kim Moonsik stepped into town and established his position as mayor and, more importantly, as a servant of the divine Wylynne.
Once he saw how poorly Rufus acted, he fought to remove him from his position.
The man was too proud, too unwilling to give his position and title up to this “holy”, foreign newcomer. 
Mayor Kim had wanted to execute Rufus. It was his son, Aloysius, who had gotten down on both knees and begged for his safety. 
Two months later, both Rufus and his wife were sent to Wylynne as divine warriors, leaving the new head and his family to take his place.
The Augustus family were now the Kims’ right hand men: their enforcers and watchful guards within the walls of their kingdom.
The current head, Aloysius, was the chief of police, his wife, Domitia, a commander of her own squad.
Their daughter was Kim Namjoon’s aide, the vice president of the student body.
While the majority of the citizens of Ichabod feared the Kims, there were those select few who would cross the line between fear and respect. These subjects knew well enough to keep their distance away from that dangerous family, but revered them with an eery obsession.
Aemilia Augustus was one of those select few.
She was raised in luxury and privilege. The luxury of complete ease in her environment and the privilege of knowing that, no matter what she did, no normal citizen in this town was powerful enough to go against her or her parents. 
She grew up adhering to the law. The laws of Ichabod specifically, as they would apply to no other.
Aemilia thought of herself as town royalty. She essentially was, considering her family was only a step down the hierarchy from the Kims. 
Her parents were, in short, bootlickers. They trembled underneath their cloaks every monthly meeting, clutching the sophomore’s arms with grips strong enough to rival coconut crabs as they waited to see which poor, unfortunate soul Mayor Kim would call out next.
But when he called them in the middle of the night, ordering them to dispatch officers to “discipline” yet another citizen, they readily responded as if they were family friends carrying out an old grudge on behalf of the other.
Yet another reason why Aemilia found her parents’ subservience so utterly pathetic. They were subjugated to become nothing more than mindless, fearful followers.
She found her grandfather’s actions absolutely foolish. The opportunity for power and reform was well within his grasp, but his narrow mindedness prevented him from making the proper preparations. 
She did not want her parents’ life for herself, nor did she see it anywhere in her future. 
Aemilia wanted to rule rather than be ruled. She had no intention of leaving Ichabod--rather, she saw herself marrying one of Mayor Kim’s sons, the best son, and ruling beside him as his queen.
All of the students at Ichabod Academy knew her name and prestige. She felt that she had the entire school underneath her beck and call. 
She never had to explicitly say what she wanted, because everyone else was already prepared to grant her wish. After all, who was brave, or stupid, enough to go against her? 
Imagine her surprise when she walked into the cafeteria the next day and spotted you, seated with Kim Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Kim Jungkook, smiling up a storm.
A little nobody doing something no one, not even she, had ever gotten to--she’d never heard your name before, she thought to herself, whispering to one of her friend’s to tell her who you were.
You were driving a nail into her carefully crafted plans.
And if you thought you would get away with it, you clearly had another thing coming.
-------------------------------------———————
Your cheeks were starting to hurt.
All you had wanted to do was go get lunch with Mana and Jimin. You skipped breakfast this morning, as usual, and your stomach was growling throughout the majority of morning classes.
When you had jumped up to run off to the cafeteria, you slammed into Taehyung, who had been waiting for you by the door. He in turn backed up into Jungkook, who was standing silently behind him. 
The long, black haired boy caught his older brother with one hand and prevented you both from falling. 
Apologies spilled out of your mouth and Taehyung grinned his boxy grin, apologizing for scaring you. He pounced on Jimin soon after, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
“Jimin told me about you guys going to the cafeteria for lunch! I really miss the three of us eating together, and getting to know you yesterday was so much fun, (Y/N)! Would you mind if we joined you...?”
He turned those puppy eyes on you and you found yourself with no reason to refuse. You nodded yes, despite feeling Mana’s laser vision tearing into the back of your skull.
Thus, here you are.
If entering the cafeteria with one Kim yesterday caused some whispers, you knew today would cause full on conversations.
You smiled awkwardly at the brothers with your lunch tray in front of you, suddenly having lost your appetite. Then you clapped your hands together.
“Ah! How rude of me--Taehyung, Jungkook, please meet Mana. They’ve been my best friend since childhood. Mana, this is Jungkook and Taehyung.”
Mana waved in a good natured manner at the boys. You tensed as you watched the interaction. 
Taehyung eyed them suspiciously, and you surmised that he was giving them the same “test” that you received yesterday afternoon. Thankfully, his lips split into that broad grin once more as he leapt across the table to pull them into a hug. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” He cheered.
They grunted, sending you a look of bewilderment over his shoulder. “Yeah, you too...?”
Jungkook mumbled out his greetings soon after.
After Jimin finished scolding Taehyung and he calmed down, the conversation took off. It was hard not to feel relaxed around Jimin and Taehyung together, for their exuberant natures made for fun conversations. You even felt Mana lowering their guard a bit, cracking some jokes that had the four of you disappearing underneath the tables in giggles.
Once again, you were almost able to forget what life was like in this town. You slipped into a comfortable sense of normalcy, picturing yourself as five school friends who had recently met.
Nevertheless, you never should have let your guard down. You never should have forgotten your place.
And by the time you did remember, it was far too late.
A cold substance spilling over you shocked you into reality, your vision obscured by a bubbly, brown trail dripping down your back, over your hair, and landing in your lap, staining your skirt.
The cafeteria, once boisterous, went completely silent. 
You heard a stifled snicker from behind you just as someone else began to speak.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”
You turned around and spotted none other than Aemilia Augustus, standing there with her spotless uniform and lunch tray held firmly in her hands.
 Behind her were her two best friends, Brooklyn and Constance...one of whom did not have a lunch tray.
It appeared to be on the floor directly behind you, half of its contents spilled over your back and the other half over your head.
“My dear friend wasn’t watching where she was going and ended up tripping.” Aemilia continued, turning around to face one of them. “Constance, why aren’t you apologizing?”
The blonde had one hand over her mouth and another behind her back. She removed her hand from her mouth, which you presumed was meant to hide her smile, and stepped forward. 
She bowed a little. “I’m so sorry. I can get someone to pay for your laundry bill, or I could buy you lunch next time?”
You felt Mana's eyes on you, but surprisingly, the first person you looked at was not Mana or Constance, nor was it Aemilia. 
You met eyes with Jungkook across the table. His dark eyes glinted dangerously, glued onto Constance and her every action. Taehyung and Jimin shared his look, glaring at the blonde. Taehyung’s hand clenched into a fist on the table, crushing the soda can he held in his hand.
The brothers met your gaze, waiting to see what you would do next.
You blinked the brown liquid out of your eyes and turned to her with a politically polite smile. “It’s fine, everyone makes mistakes. I’m pretty clumsy myself. There’s no need to pay for anything, I can just wash my uniform when I get back home. All is forgiven.” 
How extremely like you, the brothers thought. How extremely like you to not draw attention to yourself at the behest of these hags.
The whispers picked back up in the cafeteria and Aemilia sent you a smile right back. She walked over to the table, stepping into the space between you and Jimin. 
She gently set her tray onto the table, picked up the napkins on your tray, and proceeded to wipe some of it off your face.
“I’m glad you forgave Constance for her mistake, but still, sitting in a dirty uniform all day probably won’t be comfortable.” She spoke placatingly. 
You were momentarily frozen, mystified by her treating you like a child. At least you could see clearly again.
She put the napkin down. “Why don’t you come with me to the student council office for now? We can get you a new uniform there.”
“Oh, you don’t have to go that far-”
“She’s right, you don’t want to have to sit in sticky food for the rest of the day. I’ll come with you,” Mana interrupted with a tone that left no room for permission. 
Mana stood, pulling you up with them. They picked up both your bags, kicked the tray back in the blonde’s direction, and followed Aemilia’s lead out the cafeteria and away from the callous whispers.
As you walked out, Constance smirked, squeezing the Pepsi can hidden behind her back. 
After the three of you left, Jimin slowly lifted his gaze, casting it onto Aemilia’s friends.
They scrambled to clean up the mess, bowing multiple times. 
Before Brooklyn and Constance could scurry away, however, Taehyung lifted a hand, pointing his finger at the blonde. He bent it in a “come here” gesture. She inched over, trying and failing to hide her giddy expression. 
She clutched the tray of trash in her hands, her heart pounding in her ears as the younger sophomore leaned toward her. 
He whispered something in her ear, a malicious smile creeping its way onto his face. 
Constance paled and she stilled. The tray she was holding went crashing to the floor. 
Jimin smirked as he looked at the filth, living and non-living, and picked his bag up, swinging it over his shoulder. Jungkook scoffed and glared at them, prompting them to finally leave. 
Brooklyn picked up Aemilia’s tray and pulled at Constance. The blonde managed to unfreeze herself and walked away trembling. What she was trembling from--fear or admiration--no one could tell. 
The brothers looked at each other and nodded. They stood in unison and left the cafeteria.
-----------------------------------------—————
You had thought yesterday was going to be the most eventful day of your life, but clearly, Wylynne had more in store for you than you could ever imagine.
Not only was your uniform left a mess, but your stomach was growling louder than ever, considering you had been too shocked to eat your meal.
You traipsed down the hallway, cringing as you felt the stickiness of the soda travel from your thighs to your socks.
Now that you were no longer in the heat of the moment, you re-examined your response. You seriously doubted just how clean you’d be able to get in the bathroom. You were honestly thankful for Aemilia’s offer and for Mana insisting you take it.
Of course, you could have gone the rest of the day in your soda soaked mess of a uniform out of sheer pride, but now you wouldn’t have to.
Mana kept you right beside them as Aemilia walked ahead, her strawberry blonde pony tail swinging gently with each step she took.
Aemilia Augustus reeked of luxury and privilege. She did so in a way that few could ever come after her for it, you observed.
She exuded grace like Mrs. Kim did, but hers was different. She looked as though she felt she earned everything she got. 
Rather than Mrs. Kim’s gentle elegance, Aemilia was righteous and indifferent. She knew her place, and reveled in it.
“That witch has something to do with this,” Mana harshly and quickly whispered in your ear. “Now you’ve done it. You’ve incurred the wrath of Strawberry Shortcake and her she-devils.”
“It’s fine,” you whispered back. “We know she didn’t do it, and she’s offering to give me a new uniform before class starts. It’s fine.”
You cut Mana off with a look, internally suppressing a rising negative attitude. There were too many eyes on you, too many ears around you.
Aemilia led the two of you to the third floor, walking until she reached a room at the end of the hall. 
She pulled out a key and put it in the door, unlocking it. “Usually, we aren’t supposed to be in here during school hours to ensure that we’re working diligently in classes, but as the student body vice president, I have a key.” She winked and swung open the door.
“Now about that-oh!”
Aemilia stopped short and you walked behind her, peering over her shoulder. 
Several windows lined the room, lighting it up with the midday sun. It was moderately sized, like that of a classroom. A wooden table set up in the middle with black, rolling chairs pushed up against the edge of the table. 
Kim Namjoon sat at the head of the table, several papers spread out around him and glasses perched on his nose. He looked up, peeved at the intrusion.
“Aemilia...to what do I owe the pleasure?”
The strawberry blonde smiled. “Good afternoon, Mr. President. I have a student here who went through a bit of an accident at lunch. We’re just coming to get her a change of clothes.”
Namjoon made no reaction when he spotted you behind Aemilia. He nodded at her, gave his greetings to you and Mana with a small smile, and turned back to the paperwork.
Aemilia waved, implying the two of you could follow her in. The floor was made of a royal blue, lush carpet, and you winced as you dirtied it with your wet shoes. “What are your sizes, (Y/N)?” She questioned.
“I’m a (size) for the shirt and (size) for the skirt.” You quietly stated.
She nodded and walked to the back of the room and disappeared around a corner into what you presumed was an atrium of sorts. You heard a door open and the shuffling of clothes.
Mana entered, sitting on one of the seats lined up against the wall. You stood by one of the walls and peered out of the nearest window.
In the distance, you could see the dark leaves of the forest trees peeking over the tops of buildings and homes. Different students were making their way across the quad, heading back to afternoon classes. You sighed and placed a hand over your stomach.
“Here you are!” Aemilia returned with a uniform shirt and skirt in your size as well as a brand new pack of socks on a hanger. “Usually, the emergency uniforms cost students some additional funds, but you won’t have to worry about paying for it. This one’s on the house.”
You took the hanger gingerly. “Please, you’ve already done so much. The least I can do is pay. I’ll be making it out to the student council?”
Aemilia shook her head. “You really don’t have to, it was Constance’s fault. I’ll do you this favor for her.”
You smiled. “I insist. Please tell me how much is it.”
Aemilia leered at you, her eyes searching for whatever you possessed that made you think you even had the right to challenge her.
This bitch.
“If you insist! It’ll be $30. You can make it out via cash or check to the student council. It’s due by the end of the week.” 
You nodded and gave both students a bow. “I’m so sorry to have disturbed your day. I’ll be going off to class now.”
Aemilia returned your courtesy and Namjoon gave you a small wave.
You locked arms with Mana, left the student council room and headed to the bathroom. 
-----------------------------------------—————
“I’m telling you! There’s something so messed up about that girl!” Mana complained loudly as you stood in the bathroom. You unbuttoned your shirt and proceeded to clean soda residue off your chest, arms, and legs.
Ichabod Academy consisted of three types of bathrooms: men’s restrooms, women’s restrooms, and a gender neutral restroom. There was only one and it was jammed into the basement, and it was your and Mana’s safe space because hardly anyone else ever came down here.
“Even if there is, what am I going to do, call her out on it?” You muttered as you took off your socks, wiping as much of the stickiness as possible off with a warm, wet napkin.
You dried your arms and threw the rest of the napkins away, then went into a stall and took your clothes off completely, changing into the new uniform. “I don’t have the mental energy required to play her mind games today. How much time do I have left?”
“Fifteen minutes.” They said, unlocking and locking their phone. “No, but you seriously haven’t heard of her? Of what she does to people who get too close to the Kims?”
“There’s been someone else getting close to the Kims?” You questioned dryly, pulling the socks on.
“Got, as in past tense, love. Anyone who associates with the Kims excessively, according to her, in any form or fashion has died by her hand.” Mana said. “She practically worships the ground they walk on.”
“She wouldn’t be the only one,” you replied nonchalantly.
“You remember Grace Ster?”
“The girl from our freshman class who left to be homeschooled?” You frowned, buttoning up your shirt.
“Yes! The only reason why she was sent home is because Aemilia blew a fit and ended up tormenting the poor thing until she didn’t want to show up anymore!” Mana said. 
“All Grace did was hold hands with Kim Taehyung. In drama class. For a skit!” You could see them throwing their arms up in disbelief through the crack of the stall door. “That’s why I had you go along with her. If you kept being so stubborn, she might have publicly humiliated you even more in the cafeteria. I wanted to make sure she didn’t get the chance.” 
“Oh...thanks, Mana.” You smiled slightly. 
You walked out the stall and folded your dirty uniform, placing it inside your book bag. You didn’t really have a response, not necessarily shocked by Aemilia’s nature. Something had told you she was different than the persona she made an effort to display.
You washed your hands and slung your bag over your shoulder. “We should just get back before we’re late.”
Mana patted you on the back as you dejectedly walked back to class.
-----------------------------------------—————
When you stepped into the classroom, you got a number of looks and comments, people whispering under their breath about how you dared to anger the queen bee. 
Jimin had, once more, been waiting for you. “(Y/N)! Are you alright?” 
“I’m fine.” You said. “Aemilia gave me a new uniform to change into.”
As you sat down, your stomach growled loudly. 
Jimin’s eyes snapped back up to meet yours. “You didn’t get to eat, did you? She dragged you out before you could even touch your food.”
You shrugged. “I’ll just eat after school. It’s not the first time I’ve gone without eating and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
Jimin eyed you worriedly as Mrs. Hargrove burst into the room, full of nervous energy as usual. “Good afternoon, students!”
You and your classmates chorused greetings in return. You internally sighed at how long of a day this was turning out to be. 
Jimin continued to fret over you throughout the rest of afternoon classes. You kept reassuring him that you were fine. No, you didn’t need anything from the vending machine, yes you would tell him if you got too hungry.
You reminded yourself that he wasn’t Mana or one of your other classmates--you wouldn’t be able to tell him off, even if you kind of wanted to.
The end of the school day finally arrived and you walked out the double doors between Mana and Jimin.
Jimin pulled you toward him. His brothers stood several feet away from the rest of the student body, watching as Driver Bin pulled up to the corner.
“(Y/N).” Jimin smiled at you, but the look in his eyes was serious. “Remember, you’re much, much stronger than you think you are.” 
He reached his hand down to gently squeeze at yours, and held onto your hand for a bit more before letting it go. “Those petty people are nothing compared to you.”
He let go of your hand and walked toward his four brothers, who began climbing into the vehicle. Hoseok and Taehyung lifted their arms to wave goodbye, and you lifted yours in a half-hearted wave as they pulled away.
You stepped to the side and on one of the benches outside of the school. Mana stood next to you, leaning against a pillar.
You eyed students warily as they linked arms to walk home together in bunches or ran to the curve of the street in front of the school to hop into their parent’s cars. 
A glossy, strawberry blonde ponytail soon caught your attention as it hit the light of the afternoon sun. 
You watched Aemilia walk toward a gray car resting beside the curb, her hair perfect as usual. She waved farewell to her friends and made eye contact with you over their shoulders.
The girl glanced at you. Her eyes were teeming with disgust, but all she did was smile at you as she bent down to sit in the car.
Should I be scared? You thought to yourself as her driver closed the door. They drove away, heading toward the Augustus residence at the center of the city.
Mana popped a bubble of their chewing gum. “(Y/N), your mom’s here.”
You lifted your head and spotted your mother’s familiar car making its way down the pickup line. 
You stood up, brushing off the back of your skit and walked with Mana to the car. When Mana entered the backseat, your mother scoffed with a smile. “What’s this?”
They beamed and blinked rapidly at your mother. “Oh please, Aunty (M/N), won’t you take this poor child home?”
You giggled as your mom rolled her eyes. “Just put your seatbelt on, Manareyyn.”
Mana gasped and hushed her. “Not the full name, Aunty! Am I a complete stranger to you?”
You laughed, feeling relaxed in the presence of your loved ones.
When you got home, you had the interesting combination of leftover takeout and your mother’s cooking for a meal. 
You put both school uniforms in the wash and informed your mother of what happened at school. She prepared the funds for the council and handed the check to you. 
You went upstairs and took a shower, washed your hair, and completed some homework assignments.
Soon enough, you both turned in for the night.
-----------------------------------------—————
Later that evening at the Kim residence, Namjoon stood outside of Jimin’s room. The younger boy had summoned him and the rest of their siblings for some kind of conference, but he wasn’t keen on staying too long.
He sighed and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Jimin’s voice sounded from the other side. Namjoon twisted the doorknob and pushed it open.
The rest of the brothers were already in the room, he noted, seated on Jimin’s king sized bed.  
He shrugged in response to their irritated gazes and climbed onto the mattress.
“Now that everyone’s here,” Taehyung stated, side-eyeing Namjoon, “we can properly begin our discussion.”
“How long is this going to take?” Hoseok interrupted. “I have several assignments that need to be completed, and dances to choreograph.”
“Yes, and I have stacks of paperwork I need to finish for student council.” Namjoon sighed.
Jimin leaned back. “You don’t necessarily have to be here-”
Hoseok leapt up, walking over to the door. 
“-unless, of course, you wish to know how to help our angel.”
The senior stopped in his tracks and looked over at Jimin, gaze darkening.
“I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t help (Y/N),” Jungkook said, playing a game on his phone. “Namjoon hyung said that she needed to come to us on her own.”
“I still stand by that statement. The more we pressure her, the more she’ll back away.” Namjoon coolly replied. “She’ll come find us, of her own volition, eventually.” 
“Then what are you talking about?” Hoseok asked.
“It appears that people at school are mistaken about who deserves the most respect from them,” Taehyung said. 
“Your subordinate stepped out of line today, Namjoon hyung.” Jimin followed.
The older boy shifted his gaze onto his younger brothers. He thought back to today’s lunch period when (Y/N) and her friend entered the student council room. The girl had shifted uncomfortably where she stood, and he thought he’d heard the faint sound of a stomach growling.
Hoseok scoffed at his silence and turned to look at him. “Don’t tell me it was the Augustus bitch. I told you to throw her away ages ago.”
“No, it was one of her underlings,” Namjoon stated, recalling the girls’ conversation. “The blonde airhead in love with Taehyung, Constance. She must have ‘accidentally’ spilled her lunch all over (Y/N), no doubt directed by Aemilia herself.”
Taehyung glowered at the reminder. When he leaned over to whisper into Constance’s ear, the idiot was smiling as if it was the best day of her life. The acrid smell of her perfume made him gag. It nearly suffocated him. 
It was nothing like (Y/N)’s. Her scent caressed him from afar and washed over him when they were close, promising warmth and consolation.
Her scent was probably ruined by the stunt that scum pulled in the cafeteria.
When he saw Constance holding the soda can, he’d wanted to reach his hand around her neck and-
“Ah, I see.” Namjoon smiled, his realization coming full force. “So, you want to prepare a lesson of sorts.”
Jimin nodded. “People need to be well aware of how to treat (Y/N) before and especially after she takes her place by our side. This can a good teaching moment.”
“Okay,” Hoseok hummed. “And how are you going to go about doing that?”
“Like Namjoon hyung said, we can’t directly interfere without it being too obvious.” Taehyung said. “But-”
“-there’s no reason as to why we can’t distribute due punishment.” Jungkook finished, his lips twitching into a smile.
Namjoon grinned, nodding. “How about the three of you tell me everything you saw in the cafeteria this afternoon...spare no details.”
-----------------------------------------—————
Chance Pierre was a quiet kid. He never bothered anybody and preferred to focus on his studies.
Students often found him tutoring a classmate in between classes or reading in the library, and they nicknamed him the freshmen class’ Kim Namjoon. Not that they could say it so loudly around the guy’s younger brother, Kim Jungkook.
Chance Pierre dreamed of becoming rich and influential enough to come back to the town, save the people inside, and burn the Kims to the ground.
He wanted to find a way out of Ichabod using his intellect. He would appeal to Mayor Kim, explain how he hoped to bring excellence to the town by pursuing his academic career and spreading the word about Wylynne and all of the moon’s grace.
Surely, the mayor would let him take his intellectual influence outside. And he would be able to escape the hellish nightmare that was this town.
Thankfully, he and Jungkook were not in the same class. Even though Chance was at the top of his specific class, if he wanted to place first in the entire freshman class, he would eventually have to confront the youngest of the Kims. A conflict he’d been readily avoiding.
Still, despite his academic prestige, he was still what high schoolers would call a “nerd”. He was bullied by his peers, the same peers that he wanted to spare. They mocked him for his financial status, for his intellect. The goddess forbid he ever share his dream of leaving Ichabod, for they would mock him for that as well.
Chance entered his home and it was quiet, as usual. His parents worked late hours and he often had no one to talk to. The spirits in the walls were his friends, he liked to joke.
He took his shoes off and just as he was about to turn to go upstairs, something was thrown over his head. 
His vision went dark and he immediately began to struggle. He kicked and fought, his breaths rapidly increasing. The inside of the material was coated in what smelled like bleach and alcohol.
Chloroform.
Chance tried to hold his breath, cursing himself for struggling earlier, but he only delayed the inevitable. The boy’s movements slowed and his assailant pulled the bag around his head tighter and tighter until he blacked out.
Hours later, the police station was visited by his mother in the early morning, the woman hysterically crying and clutching onto Chance’s discarded book bag as she reported her son’s abduction.
-----------------------------------------—————
You were awoken by your mother entering your room. You looked up at her inquisitively, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. 
You both had several hours of rest left, so why...?
She wordlessly approached your bed and lifted the covers, and you scooted backward to give her space. She lay down next to you, slipping her arm under your head.
You felt her press a kiss to your forehead. She started playing with your hair and humming a little, like she used to do when you were little. You drifted back to sleep in the comfort of her arms.
Yet in the morning, she was gone again, off to work an early shift at the hospital. 
It was a gray, rainy day today. 
Mana’s dad had been the one to take you to school that morning, and both he and his child chuckled as they saw you running out the door with a clothing bag and your book bag in the rain. You had entered the car squealing from the cold water droplets.
When you walked into the building, you had almost expected another horrible, suspicious “accident”.
If only that had been the case.
You and Mana entered the lobby to find your classmates gathering around the school bulletin board, where another missing poster had been put up.
A freshman. He’d been taken sometime last night, you gathered from the horde of students in front of you. 
The boy looked slightly familiar to you; he was probably someone you were accustomed to passing in the halls.
You sighed, your heart falling in your chest. That was probably why your mother was clinging to you in your sleep this morning...
You met eyes with Mana’s, whose own flashed with sadness and anger. 
There was no telling where this kid was going to show up again. If he was lucky, he would make it back to his family in one piece. If not...
The double doors opened again, bringing in an icy breeze with them, and the halls instantly silenced. You turned away from the crowd and watched as the Kim brothers walked in. 
Jungkook strolled along with his head held high and headphones in his ears, indifferent to all the stares. 
Namjoon walked through the students, smirking as they parted for him with Hoseok, calm as can be, a couple of feet behind him. 
Contrary to yesterday’s kind and bubbly energy, Taehyung had a dangerous glower on his face. Jimin was expressionless, his eyes glued forward as the brothers made their way to their respective buildings.
If they noted the amount of students surrounding the bulletin board, they certainly did not show it. There was no sign of concern, or pain anywhere in their expression.
This was why the Kims, while so close, felt so distant from the rest of the student body. 
It’s one thing to live in a town like Ichabod and experience the horrible things that happen here. It’s another thing to refuse to look deeper and question everything around you.
It’s another thing to live here and think that these types of occurrences are alright. 
You shivered. Yes, you remind yourself. This is the atmosphere. This is the place I am in.
You were not in a normal high school or a normal town. The law of your land simply could not compare with that of anywhere else.
Never far behind them, Aemilia Augustus entered, her posse at her back. She followed the Kims, a serene, pleased smile on her face. 
No doubt she had knowledge of what had happened to that freshman, but she would never tell.
She passed by you and Mana, looking you up and down.
That one glance told you more than anything you had gathered in your conversation yesterday.
This is the difference between us, it proclaimed. I am safe on the inside, while you are disposable on the outside. 
You are nothing. 
Aemilia walked past the two of you, continuing on her way to class. Brooklyn and Constance followed behind her, staring dead ahead. 
The blonde was far from her usual picture perfect attire--her uniform was wrinkled, she was dragging her feet, and her eyes were red and puffy. She made no move to look at you or Mana, seemingly caught up in her thoughts.
Soon after they left, movement in the halls returned to normal as students walked to their classes. At some point, you finally forced yourself to move. 
The chill from the rain and wind settled in your bones and you shivered on your way to class.
The teacher had not arrived yet, as usual. Your classmates didn’t even have the heart to discuss rumors or joke around. Every movement seemed to break the silence.
You walked down the aisle and sat next to Jimin, waving at him in greeting. He gave you a small smile in return. You silently took your books out your bag, not wanting to bother him anymore after this morning’s display.
The cold couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Your shivers persisted and within a few moments, you were shaking so badly you couldn’t hold your pencil straight.
Mana sent you a concerned look but you waved them off, circling your finger to tell them to turn back around.
You put your writing utensil down and tried to hold your own hand still when you felt Jimin shift next to you.
He caught sight of your trembling fingers and he removed his school cardigan, handing it to you. 
You tried to refuse his offer, pushing the fabric back into his hold, but he spread it out, draped it over your shoulder, and lifted your hand to slip one of your arms through.
What is it with people thinking I don’t know how to take care of myself? You thought as you gently pulled your arms from his hand, slipping them into the cardigan and pulled it closed. 
He watched with a satisfied smile as it draped down your sides and shifted in his seat to resume his staring ahead.
You thought back to the other night. 
His gaze was just as caring, just as frigid as the one from your dream. 
You shivered again, hiding it by shifting in your seat. The class sat in silence until your first period teacher walked in. Without another word, she quickly began her lesson.
------------------------------------------------------
During lunch, Mana had to go to a meeting with one of the teachers, and Jimin and his brothers were nowhere to be found (not that you were dying to sit with them), so you took the opportunity to clear your debt with the student council.
You walked up to the third floor and went to the end of the hallway, fiddling with the paper and clothing bag in your hands. As you approached the door, you tentatively turned the knob and found that it was still locked.
You were contemplating sliding the envelope under the door when a voice sounded out from behind you. 
“What have we here?”
You turned and found Kim Namjoon leaning against the wall behind you. He didn’t have his glasses on today, but wore a playful and righteous look on his face. 
“(Y/N) ah, it’s wonderful to see you. I see Jiminie is still making sure to take good care of you.” He smiled in a good natured manner and you flushed, remembering the sweater your classmate practically dressed you in himself.
“Yeah...it’s been really chilly,” you muttered. You bowed slightly in greeting. “Good morning.”
“How have you been?”
“I’m alright. I didn’t want to bother, I just have the uniform I borrowed yesterday and the money I owe the council.”
Namjoon put his leg down, gently kicking off the wall and approached you. He flicked his hand toward the door. “Oh, is that so? Why didn’t you come in?”
“The door was locked-” You watched in surprise as Namjoon opened the door easily, without having pulled out a key. “...or not, I suppose.”
I must not have twisted the door hard enough because of all the stuff in my hands...
“Come on in.”
You entered the room cautiously. Namjoon took his place at the head of the table, placing his bag at his feet. “The uniforms go in the closet in the atrium, around that corner.”
You nodded and walked the same way Aemilia went yesterday. 
There didn’t appear to be much in the atrium--there were two restrooms, a vending machine, a place to hang coats and bags, and the supply closet. 
“Speaking of clothes, I apologize for not being able to assist you yesterday. I was terribly behind in some student council matters and worked all night to finish it all.” The student council president stated from behind the other section of the wall.
You hung the wardrobe up and walked back out, sliding the check in front of Namjoon on the table. “It’s completely fine, it wasn’t anything important.”
“I don’t think so,” He gestured for you to take a seat in the chair to his right. “Would you mind telling me what happened in the cafeteria?”
You hesitated, prepared to brush it all under the rug, but boy’s gaze sharpened and you found yourself taking a seat.
“It was an accident,” you began. “Someone tripped and spilled their food on me at lunch.”
Namjoon hummed. “Who was it?”
“A friend of Aemilia’s. I was sitting with Mana, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook at lunch and we were talking, and then I felt something cold run down my face and back.” You looked down at your lap, folding and unfolding your fingers.
Namjoon rested his chin in his fist as he looked at you. “I take it that it was Constance, as Aemilia said yesterday, correct?” 
You nodded.
“So, Constance managed to trip and splatter her food all over you, and only you, as you sat at your lunch table, which is fairly out of the way of the center of the cafeteria. A table that had plenty of room for people to walk around.”
“How did you know where I was sitting?” You asked.
“Jimin informed me of the basic details, but I wanted to hear the story from your perspective.” He reasoned with a smile. “This...accident...also occurred well into the meal, when everyone else was already seated.”
You frowned. “It doesn’t sound like you think it was an accident.”
“It sounds as though she were targeting you, (Y/N).” Namjoon said, removing some papers and textbooks from his bag. “I’m simply speculating off of what I know. I’d advise you to be careful of Aemilia and her ‘acquaintances’.” He said, smiling a bit worriedly. 
You looked away, thoughts racing rapidly in your head.
You were already wary of the girl because of her status and the things you’d heard from Mana, but you found something incredibly unsettling about being warned about her from Kim Namjoon himself. 
He’s one to talk.
Namjoon asked you to spend the rest of the lunch hour with him, as he felt he needed some company to complete the rest of his documents. 
He offered to purchase snacks for the two of you, and after that you could hardly refuse. You pulled out some assignments of your own and worked in tandem.
Hazel eyes peered through a crack in the doorway of the student council room. They saw you and the student council president, sitting together as though you were the best of friends, discussing certain books or classes with an intermittent joke placed every now and then into the conversation.
Hazel eyes saw nothing but a repulsive wench taking what was supposed to be her place. Speaking to her future husband, her future king. The longer she gazed upon the heinous sight, the angrier it made her. 
She made a move to swing open the door and announce her presence, but dark brown eyes met hers through the crack and Aemilia stilled. 
She was not surprised that he had managed to sense and spot her, as she had been able to tell long ago that the president was a master of perception. Yet the usual polite warmth that she so loved was gone. It was replaced by unyielding anger. 
His eyes were alight with purple fire.
He was angry because she almost interrupted him being with you.
Aemilia let go of the handle to the student council room, letting the door click closed. She shoved past the shoulders of her minions friends, raging down the hallway until she reached an empty classroom. 
Once inside, she locked herself in there and began throwing around the desks, chairs, anything within her arms’ reach.
After she quelled her rage, she pressed her nails into her palm and decided:  no, she would not be going out like this. She would not allow that pretentious shrew to chip away and what she so carefully built, what she strove for.
(Y/N) (L/N) would soon experience hell on earth. Aemilia Augustus would make that happen. She swore it on her family name.
(Y/N) (L/N) would never return to the school in one piece, of body or of mind, as long as she could help it.
-----------------------------------------—————
~taglist~
@melaninkpops​ @loserwithapen​ @hellaspookystudent​ @ecillartto​ @omgsuperstarg​ @ace-angel-judas​ @jjamsbangtan​ @lovinggalaxies​ @lovesick-heart0​ @ksxmpoison​ @girlmeetsliv3​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @purpuravm​ @oneweirdbean​ @hopelessfountainjoonie​ @mazmaz30​ @enigmaticlove-03​ @uppiespuppy​ @queenceline22​ @kokofikats​ @taeyohonic​ @creatorspalace​
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mochiiwrites · 3 years
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🍁✨Autumn Troupe Headcanons!✨🍁
Hooray for more uncensored swearing! Sorry, this took so long! It’s hard to think of things for the Autumn Troupe since I don’t know them super well!
🍁🧡Banri Settsu🧡🍁
Whenever it's time for practice, Banri begins by smacking the back of Juza's head! (Not super hard, but enough for it to piss him off)
Diluc main, that is all. Before he got Diluc he was an Amber main, and somehow was good. Still uses her every once in a while!
Slightly intimidated by languages sometimes, I dunno how to explain it, so hopefully the dialogue does!
“Banri, come here for a second.”
“Hell no, I’m in the middle of a match right now.”
“Banri.”
“Sit your ass down and wait, Chikage! I’m busy!”
"Halika dito! Huwag kang humintay na papatayin kita at iwanan kitang dumugo sa lansangan! Inumin ng mga aso ang iyong dugo at kukunin ng mga uwak ang iyong laman. Gusto mo yan?!" ("Come here! Don't wait for me to kill you and leave you bleeding in the street! Dogs will drink your blood and crows will take your flesh. Do you want that ?!" ) I'm unsure of the translation, since the filipino was from Irumaaaaa_saaaaamaaaaa's comment on my Ao3! I just put it into google translate
“Damn! Fine, fine, I’m comin! Chill out!”
His older sister gave him a leopard plushie when he was a kid, which is why he’s fucking obsessed with animal prints!
Plays drums and almost broke the coffee table because he “jammed too hard” on it!
Constantly messing up Taichi’s hair, or he’s drumming to songs on his head.
*boom boom bap boom boom bap*
“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place, singin'-”
“We will, we will rock you!”
“Haha! Hell yeah!”
🍁💜Juza Hyodo💜🍁
Likes carrying Muku or Kumon on his shoulders! Sometimes they still parade around!
“Are you sure about this, Ju-chan?”
“Yeah, you’re real light, y’know.”
“What the hell are you doing, Hyodo? Practice is soon.”
Chews on things a lot when he’s nervous! He always has gum or a lollipop to avoid chewing on his shirt, his nails and other inedible things!
Uses shorter Mankai members as an armrest, but only the ones who are okay with it! He’s polite like that.
On nights where he just can’t sleep, he’ll go on walks or drive around on his motorcycle!
Terrible with eye contact and looking like he’s paying attention. Sakyo has to snap his fingers at him to make sure he’s listening!
Y’know the awkward sibling hug from Gravity Falls, he and Kumon have done that...a lot. It’s not actually awkward though, they just liked the show!
“Awkward sibling hug?”
“...Awkward sibling hug.”
*embrace*
“...pat, pat.”
....
“Hyodos, what the hell?”
🍁💖Taichi Nanao💖🍁
Cried twice when he got his piercings, the first time was because he was very, very afraid, the second time was because he was so happy that he looked good with them!
Has Heelys! One time, he tried to 'heely' into the rehearsal room, but he immediately fell over!
Plays the ukulele! He wanted to play guitar because he saw someone serenading their partner with it at school! He borrowed Masumi's guitar but bar chords suck and his hands are kinda small, so he settled for the uke!
"Aghhh! How do you play that! That hurts my fingies!"
"I have bigger hands and more experience."
"But you're only like an inch taller than me!"
"Height doesn’t really have anything to do with this."
Has a Tiktok! He doesn't post often, it's more for looking at memes or sick outfits. (He does the dances though! He's pretty good at them but they're all in his drafts since he's not super confident in them!)
Y’know how kids crawl up the stairs really fast. He does that. Constantly. Kazunari joins in, sometimes. It pisses Sakyo off a lot, but he gave up on trying to get them to stop.
"Taicchan, what are you doing?"
"Kazu-kun! I got the zoomies!"
"Nice! Can I join ya?"
"For sure!"
*Rapid thumping up the stairs*
"Aren't you gonna stop them, Sakyo?"
"...If I had that ability, they would've stopped a long time ago. Those idiots don't listen."
He LOVES Sk8 The Infinity! Langa's his favourite character! He's also probably a Reki kinnie!
🍁💙Omi Fushimi💙🍁
(It's blue like his regular shirt and Tumblr doesn't have any other colours ;-;)
Despite being tone-deaf, he hums a lot when he cooks! No one seems to mind it!
Enjoys scrapbooking! He kind of prefers scrapbooks to albums, since scrapbooks have a more homemade vibe, you know?
Gives the best hugs, and tends to hold hands with the younger members when they cross the street!
Regularly has this conversation!
“Banri, have you eaten?”
“I dunno Omi, have YOU eaten?”
“...I have. But that's not what I’m concerned about.”
“...I had a granola bar like, an hour ago.”
“...I’m making you something.”
When he first joined the company, he took notes on what everyone liked and didn't like to eat, plus if they had allergies! He still has it, he just doesn't need to use it anymore!
I feel like something like this has happened once!
“Ah, Omi! Can you help me grab something?”
“Oh, sure. What do you need, Sakuya?”
“Homare asked me to get some of that tea, but I can’t rea-”
*lifts Sakuya like Simba*
“Ah! Omi, haha! What are you doing?”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Do you want me to stop?”
“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda fun actually.”
🍁💛Sakyo Furuichi💛🍁
Absolutely blind without his glasses, like it’s really bad. He walked into a doorframe without his glasses. Thankfully, no one noticed (he thinks).
He has a bit of bubble-wrap in his a pocket all the time and sometimes he uses it as a threat! (Hopefully that made sense...)
“Settsu, move over.”
“I literally can’t! Your fat ass is taking too much space!”
*pop*
“Just scoot your lazy ass over.”
*pop*
“I can’t I already-”
*pop*
“...Alright, I get it! I’ll shut up! Jeez, how is that so threatening...”
“...Asshole.”
*pop*
“...Sorry.”
Definitely told Azami that Santa wasn’t real when he was like 6.
Sakoda got him a mug that said #1 Dad but he crossed it out and replaced ‘Dad’ with ‘Aniki’! Sakyo still drinks out of it, sometimes!
Azami also made him a friendship bracelet when he was a lot younger. Sakyo doesn’t wear it (because it doesn’t fit him anymore) but he still has it! He likes rubbing the beads between his fingers.
Good at trivia! Like, really good. He somewhat enjoys Trivia Murder Party. (I just watched a play through and skipped to a random question, I have no idea if it’s actually hard lol.)
“Which body of water connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean?”
“Wh- How are we supposed to know that?!”
*Sakyo answers ‘The Strait of Gibraltar’ and is the only one who answers correctly*
“Fuck, my thumb slipped.”
“That shouldn’t be allowed. Sakyo’s shitty and old, he shouldn’t be able to know and remember things.”
“Oi, brat. I’m not that old. You’re not the one who got the answer right.”
“You’re not the one who literally never learned this!”
🍁❤️Azami Izumida❤️🍁
Has smacked too many cans/cups out of Itaru and Tsuzuru’s hands!
“Wh-”
“Drink actual water. And jeez, go take a nap or something. Your skin is even worse than I thought it could get. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one in the Spring Troupe?”
“Ah... I guess, you are right. Thanks for looking out for me.”
“W-well! W-we can’t have you on stage looking like a raisin! S-so!”
Often criticizes Izumi’s eyeliner and ends up just doing it for her. N-not that he minds or anything!
Played Love Nikki at some point, I do not take that much criticism.
Because I think the troupe/play themes are canon, he definitely helped with Shake the Shape and wrote some of RESPAWN!
Always has extra hair ties on him, even though most of the others don’t really need them. Most of the time, the hair ties end up being used for...other purposes.
“Ready.”
“What?”
“Aim.”
“Azami, I swear to whatever god is listening, if you fire that elasti-”
“Fire.”
“...You shitty brat-”
“Oh shi-”
Part of the ‘wears nail polish’ squad! He hates stickers. (Most of the time they somehow fall off) His go-to is an alternating pattern of black and red.
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